I can fix him*
*bad writing, underutilized gameplay mechanics, characters with unfulfilled potential, funded by bootlickers
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God fucking damn it he opened the fucking door.
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I don't think Elias has the ability to Compel people like the Archivist can. I don't think he can make anyone answer him truthfully. But that doesn't matter, because that's not what he wants. It's quite easy to lie to him. He doesn't need to hear the words to Know.
Words are faulty. Ideas, concepts, experiences are too hard to translate perfectly, completely into words. There is always information lost between the speaker and the listener, details that aren't conveyed between what one is trying to say and what the other interprets their words to mean. And when Jonah read centuries old tomes, he mourned that he could not know the full, lived experience of the writer's life from the few words that were inked onto the parchment. He mourned the knowledge that was lost between the words.
So while his collection grew into an archive focused on written and narrated accounts, his powers focused elsewhere.
His interview with og!Elias demonstrated quite beautifully! You can lie to him, quite easily in fact. You can try to hide behind a mask, but Eyes are the windows to the soul. Meet his gaze, and he can See quite easily what you're trying to hide. And when he Sees, he sees as they saw.
Their fear, their firsthand experience becomes his experience. He longs to live, and he will live uncountable lifetimes through the lives of others. Through the eyes of others.
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Yandere! Ex boyfriend
Warning(s) smut (not too descriptive but there)
Yandere ex: Thought that you were just being dramatic again
Yandere ex: Can’t comprehend why you would even think itd be that easy
Yandere ex: Follows you around and watches you through cameras
Yandere ex: Sabotages everything fling, friendship, situationship
Yandere ex: Calls you on burner phones just breathing
Yandere ex: Acts surprised when you call him crying because you’re just so lonely and scared
Yandere ex: Pretends hes no longer interested in you (he has a ring in his nightstand)
Yandere ex: Comforts you by fucking your brains out so hard and good that you don’t realize he didn’t pull out
Elias was so confused when you said you were breaking up with him (again). Things were going so well this time! He did everything right; he stopped smoking, drinking, even started to do yoga (just so he can take notes on which positions he can force you into). So you, breaking up with him out of nowhere, really had him scratching his head.
Following you around he noticed all your friends were feeding you poison about him! Saying how possessive (he just wants everyone to know you’re taken), obsessive (he just loves you???), and well creepy he was. Now, he couldn’t let the love of his life be lied to and manipulated like that. No! He had to step in and well make them disappear.
Is physically sick when he sees you attempt to form a new relationship. Seeing you doll yourself up for some person who isn’t him??? A crime. He’d rather gouge out his eyes if he saw you kiss anyone again. He scared away anyone he thought was going to take you away. Even the one night, don’t want commitments weren’t texting you back.
God you look so pretty so scared hiding in your closet. Having answered another phone call with someone breathing heavily. Seeing you cry silently as you try to text someone for help only to get no replies. Watching you try to muster up courage to call him. He could cum at the sound of your voice saying you need him.
Having to look disinterested when you wrap your arms around him crying that you messed up. That you should’ve stayed with him. Blabbering that he’s the one for you and how you were just scared of how well things were going. Seeing your lips tremble and nose run as he sighs saying “I don’t know hun, you really broke my heart. I don’t know if I can do this again with you” knowing you’ll beg and promise anything.
Has you bent over the couch, fucking you so hard you’re pretty sure your cervix are bruised. Nothing going through that pretty head of yours. All he’s saying is how much he loves you and you were always meant to be his. All you can do is just agree to everything he says. Even when he demands asks you to marry him. By the time he’s finished you don’t even realize he never pulled out.
Waking up to being back in his bed and with a ring on your finger.
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SAM/SASHA AND ALICE/TIM????
TMAGP ep 1-2 Spoilers!! (And TMA Spoilers!)
Do you realize how similar Alice and Sam are to Tim and Sasha?
Many of you talked about Alice being fun, carefree and the comic relief, like Tim in the first season.
But what happens if we look deeper? I start with Alice and Tim because I think they are the most obvious
-Alice does not have "professional respect" for either Gwen or Lena.
Just like what happened between Tim and Jon. But none of them go so far as to "completely disrespect them."(at least S1 Tim).
-Alice has a younger brother who she apparently cares a lot about, just like Tim was with Danny. Besides, (this is my theory), but the way they introduced Alice's brother, I get the feeling that his fate won't be very different from poor Danny's.
-They know more than they say, Alice clearly knows more than she tells Sam,Alice has been working for the government for at least 4 years, and the only time she acted seriously was to tell Sam that he shouldn't get too involved in the cases, because she saw people go crazy because of it.
Something similar happened with Tim in the first seasons, he knew that the Fears were real, he knew things about the stranger, he was looking for revenge..
And now on to the similarities between Sam and Sasha.
-They were both overqualified for their position, Lena told Sam that the job he applied for was too low for his level, but he didn't care,on the other hand ,Sasha must have been The Archivist, Gerdtrud knew this, that's why her warning notes were made for her, but Elias found out after Killing Gerdtrud and left Sasha as assistant and put Jon as The Archivist..
-Sam is calm, he follows Alice's games but is professional towards his colleagues, Just like the little we saw of Sasha, She treated Jon quite well even though at the time Jon was a bit... very Shitty.
That's why Jon trusted her so much.
-Curiosity , Sam asked a lot of questions throughout the first 2 chapters, and when he didn't get answers he started investigating on his own. When Sasha met Michael, she wanted answer,without caring about the danger.
Also, That could have been a foreshadowing that Sam will be connected to the Eye of this reality???.
- Both of their names start with "SA" but that's not very important /j
And finally, we analyze Alice and Sam as a duo and the parallels they have with Tim and Sasha.The two of them complement each other perfectly, they play each other's games and we feel their connection.
Besides Alice and Sam are exes (although I think it's more of a reference to Georgie and Jon) Sasha and Tim always had an "almost something?????".like we heard in the fifth season..
I don't know, at some point I felt like I was listening to the reincarnations of the chaotic Archives duo , you know what I mean?
(English is not my first language, please let me know if I have any spelling mistakes🙏)
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i wanna talk about tma characters and the concept of a facade. because i have a lot of thoughts.
so most people understand how ironic it is to characterize martin blackwood as a soft boy that can do no wrong, because one of the most interesting parts of his character is how much of a subversion of that trope he is. he's manipulating people by acting like that. this is addressed in the canon. he wants everyone to like him, and he knows he'll almost always get what he wants if he puts up this facade.
something people talk about a bit less, but is still equally canon, is that gertrude robinson was doing basically the same thing. pretending to be just a boring old woman, when she's actually extremely clever and ruthless. she plays into everyone's pre-existing biases and assumptions masterfully to hide just how competent she really is. she knows exactly what she's doing, and she's willing to sacrifice anything and anyone for the sake of her self-appointed mission. characterizing her as a grandmother figure is the funniest form of irony to me.
but do you know who isn't putting up a facade? do you know who isn't changing their behavior to affect your idea of them?
the older avatars.
peter lukas isn't pretending to be passive-aggressive and overly cheery, he just kind of...is. why would he ever bother putting up a facade? he doesn't want people to like him. his authentic self is this talkative yet asocial man, who specifically aims to be awkward and unlikeable.
people say that simon fairchild's polite and carefree demeanor is an act, but i really don't think that's true either. i guess i might see it differently because i personally resonate the most with the vast out of all the fears, but i really think that a lot of that behavior makes perfect sense for his character. he doesn't think that anything in life matters. his personality reflects the lightness and carefree nature of that mindset. he just doesn't care. he does everything for fun. he's not pretending to be anything he isn't.
this could be me reaching, but honestly, i don't think even jonah magnus is putting up that much of a facade. he's lying, sure. he's manipulating people, obviously. but he's not changing his behavior in order to do that. even in mag 160, there's no big, henry mildmay-esque "dropping of the act" when he has his monologue. if you look at his behavior as elias bouchard, it's exactly the same as the little bits of him that we get to see in s5. the elias whose last words are "good luck" is the exact same elias as the one who always greeted basira with "hello, detective".
humans put up an act. monsters don't bother to.
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Love Or Something Like It ~Quinn Hughes~
summary: quinn's girlfriend sucks but y/n's boyfriend is the best
word count: 3.2k
pairing: quinn hughes x roommate!reader, brief elias pettersson x reader
notes: another quinn x roommate fic. not set in the same universe as the last one. italics are the past. was supposed to post this on valentines day but did not have access to my laptop
masterlist
quinn and y/n were best friends. had been since they were younger. after she finished her schooling at the university of michigan, she followed quinn to vancouver, per his request.
he needed her nearby and somehow, knowing his best friend was there, made him play so much better.
although they hadn't seen each other in person for months, everything easily went back to normal. it was as if the distance was never a problem.
things were easy, until they weren't.
quinn had gotten himself a girlfriend the third month y/n had been living with him. rebecca was only nice to y/n when they were with other people but when they were alone, she would get angry and threaten y/n with anything she could think of.
it was very clear she was jealous. but why did she have to be? y/n wasn't as pretty as rebecca, a fact that she pointed out whenever they were alone, and she didn't want to be with quinn. she had her own boyfriend back in michigan. one she loved with her whole heart, despite all the red flags he gave off.
it hurt quinn to think that y/n wasn't being treated the way she deserved. he knew he had to do something to fix it. and since valentines day was coming up, he thought it'd be perfect to set y/n up on a blind date & rebecca agreed, offering up tons of suggestions. but quinn already had the perfect person in mind.
so, on valentine's day of 2023, y/n was sitting in a fancy restaurant with quinn and rebecca while they waited for the mystery man to show up.
"hey. sorry i'm late."
y/n looked up when she heard the voice. she had heard it many times before at canucks events. elias pettersson stood before her. his bright blue eyes staring back at her with a smile that didn't seem to want to leave his face.
"no worries." y/n smiled up at him as he took the seat across from her. she may have had a boyfriend but in the moment, her only though was how good elias looked tonight.
as they ate, y/n & elias got lost in their own little world. quinn tried not to notice it but the more she laughed, the more distracted quinn got. he didn't think he was jealous until later that night when rebecca brought it up.
"if you're so into her, why did you set her up with your teammate? better yet, why are you dating me?"
"becca, please can we not do this right now?"
"why not, quinn? it's the perfect time to address these feelings. i've been holding mine in since we met. every time you brought her up in conversations, it made me feel small. you're my boyfriend. you're supposed to love me, not her."
"my love for you is completely different than my love for her."
"so you admit that you love her?"
"of course i do. she's been my best friend since we were 8 years old. i've got nothing but love for her." quinn took a step closer to his girlfriend. "but i'm not in love with her. that's the difference here."
"are you trying to convince me or yourself?" rebecca grabbed her bag and walked to the door. "call me when you get it right, hughes."
and just like that, rebecca was gone.
quinn had tried multiple times to call her and tell her he only wanted to be with her, but only received her voicemail each time.
over the next few weeks, y/n spent more and more time with elias. she was almost never home anymore and quinn was alone 90% of the time. he would drive to practice alone and he would watch as y/n slowly transitioned herself from a hughes fan to a pettersson fan.
she started wearing elias' jersey instead of quinn's and it created an unfamiliar pain in his chest the more it became evident.
when y/n found out her boyfriend had cheated on her, she didn't run to quinn. she ran straight to elias instead, breaking quinn's heart.
he realized that the unfamiliar sting in his chest was jealousy. quinn didn't want to see y/n with anyone but himself but unfortunately for him, he was a little late to the realization.
one night while quinn was at home, y/n was over at elias' place. she came home with a big smile on her face that night & quinn knew why, but he asked anyway.
"what's got you so smiley tonight?"
"elias made me dinner and asked me to be his girlfriend."
and there was that stinging feeling right where it didn't need to be. only it was 10 times worse this time. he was hopelessly in love with her & had no idea how to deal with it.
it wasn't until the beginning of february 2024 that quinn had hope again.
he and y/n were washing the dishes together when she rubbed her eye with her forearm. some of the suds came off on her cheek and as quinn went to wipe them away, her breath hitched and her cheeks were turning red.
"here, let me get that for you." he wiped the suds away and smiled. "there, all gone."
"gee, thanks quinn." y/n flicked some water at him, causing the soap suds to go everywhere. the look in quinn's eyes was enough of a warning for her. she took off out of the kitchen and into the hallway.
"you've got nowhere to run now, y/n." quinn smirked evilly, moving closer to y/n until her back was pressed against the wall. y/n swallowed the lump in her throat before looking at his lips. this only caused quinn to lean down and whisper in her ear. "gotcha." he wiped the suds on her face and smiled. when he looked down at her, she was staring at his lips. "what's on your mind?" he teased.
"n-nothing." she quickly looked away and moved away from the wall. she headed back into the kitchen to finish the dishes. quinn took a moment by himself before joining her.
"so, valentines day is coming up in a few days. you and elias have anything huge planned?"
"he won't tell me." y/n washed the last plate and handed it to quinn. he dried it and put it in it's place before turning back to y/n.
"does he know you hate surprises?"
"i don't hate them, quinn." y/n shook her head.
"you don't like secrets and those are practically the same thing."
"i guess so." y/n turned to quinn. "but elias has been off lately. did anything happen at practice?"
"no. why?"
"i don't know why he's acting this way."
"what way?"
"dodgy? i think that's the word to describe it." y/n sighed. "he's not seeing someone else...is he?" the sadness in y/n's voice made quinn's heart break.
"no. of course not. elias is a good guy. you just gotta talk to him and see what's going on."
"i'll try." y/n walked to her bedroom but before she entered, she turned to quinn. "hey. are you still dating rebecca?"
"no. she, um, broke up with me. almost a year ago."
"good." she looked up at him and backtracked her comment. "i mean, not good as in it's good she broke up with you. i meant good as in it's good that she's gone. she was terrible."
"yeah she really was. and i'm sorry again for what she did and said to you."
"it's not your fault, quinn."
"it kind of is. if i hadn't been dating her to cover up the fact that i was jealous- nevermind." he caught himself before he revealed too much.
"jealous of what? you can't just leave the comment there. who were you jealous of?"
"nobody. just forget i said anything." quinn smiled at his roommate. "good night."
y/n stood in her doorway with a puzzled look on her face. why did every guy in her life have to keep a secret from her.
y/n shook her head and went into her own room. she called jack because he was the only she knew who wouldn't keep a secret from her.
"hey. what's up y/n?"
"jack, i need some information and i know you'll give it to me because you are the only one i know who never hides things from me."
"well, i can definitely give you information. but it also depends on what it is. i might not know what you're asking about."
"fair point. but it's about quinn and i know you know all about your brother."
"yeah i do. what's the information you need?"
"5 minutes ago, he said he was only dating rebecca because he was jealous but he wouldn't tell me why he was jealous or what he was jealous of."
"he's jealous of you and elias." jack responded with no hesitation, causing y/n to gasp a little louder than expected.
"but he was dating rebecca before i started dating elias. how could he be jealous?"
"maybe jealous wasn't the word he meant to use. he probably was trying to say he was only dating her because he was trying to get over how he felt about you." jack thought for a second. "or maybe he was jealous of you and that michigan douchebag you were dating when you moved to vancouver."
"that's a little more logical. but he doesn't love me, jack. and even if he did, it wouldn't matter. i'm dating elias and i love him. not quinn."
unbeknownst to y/n, quinn had come out of his room and had heard her say she didn't love him. the last few pieces of his heart shattered and he suddenly couldn't breath.
before he made any noise, he made his way back to his room, collapsing against the door. why did he have to love his best friend? his very not single best friend.
for the next 2 days, quinn would avoid y/n at all costs. he would wake up super early and leave the apartment before he saw her & he wouldn't even acknowledge her at practice or at games.
it was breaking her heart but it wasn't known why it was affecting her so badly.
on valentines day, elias had set up a romantic picnic for her in his backyard. she appreciated it but her mind was stuck on the way quinn was treating her lately. and elias wasn't blind or stupid. he could tell she was hurting.
"hey, love. are you alright?"
"i'm fine." y/n smiled and sipped her champagne. "why do you ask?"
"because i know you're not fine. i can see the far away look you have in your eye. you're deep in thought about something and i can tell it's hurting you. and i love you so please tell me what's going on with you. i just want to make you feel better."
"quinn has been my best friend forever but this past year alone, i've been feeling him pulling away and i don't know why." she sighed. "do you think he's tired of having me in his life?"
"what? no that's impossible. who could get tired of having you in their life? and quinn is the very last person who would want to do that to you. he cares about you, a lot."
"i know that's how it's supposed to feel but lately, things have been different. if he cared about me at all, he wouldn't be avoiding me whenever he had the opportunity to do it."
it was elias' turn to sigh. "it's because he's finally realizing he's in love with you. he has been for a while."
"no he hasn't. why does everyone keep saying that?"
"because it's true." elias took his girlfriends hand and smiled. "and i don't blame him. you make everyone fall in love with you like it's the easiest thing to do. and you don't even know the effect you have on us. you should've heard the way quinn talked about you the night he asked me to take you out on that date for valentines day. i already knew you and i had already said yes but he kept saying all these really nice things about you. things a best friend wouldn't say. i'm telling you, y/n. quinn is in love with you." elias sighed. "and i think you love him too."
"well, of course i do. he's my best friend." y/n smiled. "but that doesn't matter. i love you, elias. and that should be what matters here."
"i love you enough to know that being with quinn is what you need." by now, it was obvious they both had tears in their eyes.
"why do you have to be the sweetest human being on this planet?"
"well, i am swedish." he smiled and held her close. "you're always going to be the best girlfriend i've ever had. and not just because you're the only one i've had. you're always going to hold the crown."
"so does this mean we're breaking up?"
"yes. but i still love you. always will." he held her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "now, let's get you home so you can tell quinn."
back at the apartment, quinn was trying to put something together to express every emotion he was feeling. after he had everything put together, there was a knock on the door.
he opened it and rebecca walked in. she looked around the apartment then back at quinn.
"well this isn't what i was expecting when i came here." she smiled. "but it's thoughtful, quinn. can't believe you went through all of this for me."
"actually, i-" he didn't have time to tell her it was for y/n before rebecca was pulling him in for a kiss.
"seriously?" y/n was standing in the doorway, watching the whole thing unfold. rebecca pulled away from quinn rather harshly at the sound of y/n's voice.
"y/n, this isn't-"
"i'm ruining a romantic moment. i'm sorry. i'll leave."
"you're right. you are and you should. bye." rebecca waved and y/n turned to walk back out.
"no, y/n wait!" quinn called out to her then turned to rebecca. "you need to go."
"what are you talking about?"
"this wasn't for you, rebecca. it would've been if you hadn't broken up with me a year ago. but it's not now."
"then who's it for?" rebecca searched quinn's face for a sign before her eyes landed on y/n, who was halfway out the door. "seriously? for her? thought you said you weren't in love with her."
"yeah well maybe i am now!"
y/n stopped in her tracks and turned back around.
"what?" y/n and rebecca responded.
"yeah. and maybe i always have been. it may have been a subconscious act and maybe that's why i always needed her to be close by. we can't help who we love and you can't be mad at y/n for the way that i feel. she did nothing wrong."
"she's done nothing but come between us since the moment we started dating, quinn."
"just leave, rebecca."
"no. i think i'll go. elias is waiting for me downstairs anyway." y/n turned around and walked out of he building. she got halfway down the street before it started raining.
a car sped past her and she knew it was rebecca just by the way the car aggressively sped through a puddle and nearly splashed her.
"oh tonight could not get any worse!" she shouted in frustration, kicking at a rock in her path.
"y/n, wait!" quinn shouted as he ran up to her.
"quinn, i'm not really in the mood to talk right now."
"then just listen to me. i'll do all the talking."
"fine. but can we go home? i'm freezing."
"of course." they both stayed silent as they headed back to their apartment. quinn wanted to say everything he was feeling but he wanted to wait until y/n was in a better mood. he knew she hated wet clothes so as soon as they walked through the door, he was rushing to his room to get her a tshirt and a pair of sweatpants. she accepted them without a word and went to the bathroom to change.
when she came out, the smell of hot chocolate filled her nostrils and it brought her a sense of joy. only quinn would be this thoughtful when she was mad at him.
she walked into the living room and sat down, silently taking the mug quinn offered her. she took a sip and smiled. that's when quinn knew he was doing good.
"okay. i'm ready to listen." y/n held the mug close and looked at him. his hair was still wet from the rain and she suddenly found herself wanting to run her fingers through the mess.
"okay. um, first off, rebecca and i are most definitely not together. just want to clarify that. and all of this," he glanced up at y/n & gestured around the apartment. "i set it all up for you. i know you're dating elias and you probably got something super romantic for valentines day but i wanted to do something for you too, even if it's only platonic between us. and im fine with that because you're my best friend and im sorry for rebecca and im sorry for ignoring you. it was a bad move on my part. but i heard you talking to jack the other night and you told him you didn't love me so i figured you'd want some space."
"elias and i broke up." y/n set her mug on the coffee table and stared down at her hands. "but it's okay. he's still a really good friend and that makes me happy."
"why'd you guys break up?"
"he could tell i was hurting and he kinda figured out how i feel about you."
"and how's that?"
"i didn't think i loved you until he pointed it out. but now it all makes sense. i was so eager to leave my life in michigan just to move out here to be closer to you & now i know why. i also know why it was weird seeing you with rebecca. it felt unnatural because deep down, i knew you and i were supposed to be together. we've been together our whole lives but never in a million years did i think there was a reason we were so attached to each other." y/n glanced over to find quinn staring at her already. "i do love you, quinn. and i know you love me too."
"i do. i definitely do." he smiled and moved closer. "i always will. and i'm willing to wait for you, however long it takes."
"you're perfect, quinn. i love you so much." she moved forward and threw her arms around him. he held her close and pulled her sideways onto his lap to make her more comfortable. "how about we go on a real date next saturday?"
"that sounds perfect." he looked at her and it took all of his willpower to not kiss her. she didn't care. her hands went to his cheeks and her lips attached to his.
it was a perfect moment for the both of them and neither of them cared about the world around them. as far as they were concerned, it was just the two of them for the rest of their lives.
taglist: @worldlxvlys @fearfam69691
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Pick a card: A message from your past life self! 🪦🗡
Hello darlings! Today I bring you another pick a card- I felt the need to bring out some messages. The energy today is very much revolving around death- and it's relatively natural relation to life. So today I will bring you a pick a card- with a message of what your past self would tell you! Naturally this is a general message so take whatever resonates. All the love, Elias!
Pick a pile from 1, 2, 3 or 4!
Hello, my dear self. Some day you have wondered who you are- who you should become. But I want you to know that no matter whom you try to be- or whom you'll grow to believe says the right thing- it'll always be me whom you will come back to. I'm not scary. I'm you. I like to brace the horizon- with a smile and breathe in the morning air. I'm a morning person. I used to hunt birds- for food. And... truthfully- my life was never that long. I didn't get to experience my childhood as something I cherished. This is why you're not very good with people. I'm sorry that in this life- you too- struggle with being around crowds. You do- try to. Which is more than I ever did. I was more one with animals- nature- it's why... I never really got to be together with someone. Because I spent my life alone- you might feel like everyone hates you. Or suffer from anxiety everytime you try to make a friend- with your friends- or even the people you try to date or love. I'm sorry that this part of me- lingers- but no matter how it has manifested, it is what I desired most. Sometimes lives are so crowded that you just need one where you're by yourself. I did that already. You don't need to follow my example- because I want for you to flourish and be a butterfly. To do what I haven't. To be brave. To be bold. To dare. Dream. I know you think you're alone sometimes- but you're not! The spirits of all the animals I've taken care of- protect you still! It's amazing how loyal animals are. Yes- even your last pet. I know we have a special connection to animals- I know that we sometimes feel like they understand us- feel our energy- they do- but they won't create a depth in our emotional maturity and balance much like dramatic human relationships do. If you know me- you'd wish to have a life in social circles too. It wasn't fun. And I want to brace you to feel safe. To try and feel joy. To feel happiness. Try and do it when you can. Because that- will help me- and all of us before us. I'll be here to hug you. Because I'm your greatest supporter.
Forgiveness, is what it takes. Forgive me. Forgive yourself. I'm not like you- nothing like you at all. I was vain. And cruel. And unkind. I didn't see what you see. I didn't- I couldn't. I couldn't see how people were able to be the exact same as the other- i couldn't see how every life was worth living. I killed for things. I cheated in life. I climbed the social ladders and I hurt my hands doing so. I really fell. I fell in the end and it was my ending. I didn't have a long life- because when I was found out- everything I worked for, was done for. I wanted to become better. I needed to be a better self. You don't. You don't need to do this. If you continue down this road- if you continue to try and improve- it won't make you happy. It won't make me happy either. I think it's time for us to forgive ourselves. Because sooner than later- we are all that we have. I've known this too late. Very late. You need to start appreciating the things you do have. The money you do have. The family you live with. The country you're in. The name you have been given. Consider it all. You're almost there- you're almost free of this crude self torture. Just one more step- release this attachment. Release your ideas of how things should be. Please allow yourself to just be. To just trust in me. To trust in you. In us. Trust that we can do it. That we can do whatever we set our minds to. You've inherited my determination- don't spoil it with waivering in uneasyness. Don't spoil my end- for your life to be worse than mine. Don't befriend toxic people. Don't walk towards the red flags. I need you to see. See whom you're talking to. See whom you share your mind with. See what you think of without your phone for an hour. I need you to feel yourself- to love yourself- to feel our own world is more than what you think it is and could be. Forgive me- I was never from your world- but I was the you- you needed to become whom you are now. Forgive me. I'm sorry.
We aren't the same gender. I had to start with that. I've led a completely different existence based on my social norms and whom I was raised to become. If you're a fem energy- then I used to embody masculine. And vice versa. You might feel lingering touches of me- in the way that you can embody both energies. I want to say- I'm congratulating you- because I never dared or could. I lived very rigid. In a rigid place where I was expectant to preform a role in life. To be a provider- or a caretaker. I simply obeyed that life. I simply followed the norms. I don't want you to follow any norms other than your own. I fought bravely- I died gloriously- in battle- with a strong heart or perhaps not so strong considering it caved. I loved- I loved big. You inherited this. I loved my friends. My family. I even...loved another whom I couldn't be with. That longing for someone- I owe to you to release. I didn't really got the closure I needed. I didn't really tell this person- that my heart was theirs. And theirs alone. Yes- I've had children. I've done my duty- as was expected of me, but i didn't love my partner the way I loved this star crossed romantic ideal. It was an ideal. I never got to know them personally. It didn't matter. I liked to imagine what they would be like- and somehow that image of them was enough for me. I see you- I feel you, and your life is already so much more vibrant than mine. Thankyou! I truly- honestly, can say thank you. For being authentic- for truly honouring your own feelings. It doesn't matter what you become- or whom you'll chase- in the end, you've already done what you came here to do. For me- anyway. I think you're amazing. And you inspire me- and others, so much. So so so so so much. That truthfully- you should show yourself. To everyone. Haha. It isn't scary- remember your brothers- sisters- whom fought alongside you in the trenches- whom fought with you day and night to remain sovereign- to remain equal- to gain prowess and our voice back. Hang on Soldier- you have a long road to go. It'll be glorious- I can tell you that. From my point of view- your paving the way to a dream. I'll talk to you- in my mind- my world- my time- I talk to myself often actually, haha- but you will sometimes get more from talking to me too. Just... call me a friend you once were. And I'll be a friend to you too. It'll help greatly- I am indebted to you as much. Don't worry if you're not going to do it- I'm just here to give you the inspiration you need to get out there and flourish your shiny little way around the globe.
My funny Valentine.... sweet comic valentine....you make me smile, with my heart. Listen to "My funny valentine" by Chat Baker or Frank Sinatra, because I am giving you this song as I look upon you darling. I know sometimes we don't truly like ourselves. But you don't need to become someone else to love whom you truly are. Because you already do- trust me- the whole of you- all of us- all of your lives- we love you as you are and will continue to do so fiercely. Honestly- we were wild. I was wild. Haha. I was a bit freakishly in love with everyone. Gradually- that changed a little into a more tamed version of loving and being. But you inherited a spark of love for loving. Maybe... still a little unfooted- but, priceless either way. Truly- priceless to see. I know you think some things are scaring you- but they aren't truthful. It isn't real. It's hard to have trust in that but just trust me. Trust you. I am nothing but a charmy and flourishing lovely cottonball. Haha- joking! But we all are a little vixenous sometimes, right? Perhaps you will see me when we go out, that I enter your mind more and you become more me than I become you. Channel the spirit of the sex! Baby! Who did you think you were!? Don't say you're ashamed... I was truly... a heartbreaker but I am kind? That counts for something right. Hmmmm, what to tell you. I haven't really got a message for you. To be honest I think we're currently on our recreational life. Just do whatever you want dearie. I've got no problem with it. But... do tell your mother something like- love you, when you leave. I know! People, right!? Strange creatures. But you will come to know the greatest of people. The biggest. Bestest. Friends. Ever. Haha- woooooo! I am excited already for you. Anyway- lovely for you to think of me- I always imagined myself to be a celebrity in your life so who knows!? Did we.... do it? Oh who knows! Maybe that's just a fantasy. But romantizing life is what we're made for so- go ahead. Think and imagine and write away. Poetry is lovely. I find you adorable. And if you continue- we might find some treasures along the way.
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hi it’s me elias 🙏🙏 i had an idea for a bot I wanted to make but I thought it would be way better if you wrote it ‼️ because I read the one where you’re in the jeep and… well. ANYWAYS
my idea is basically you and Leon are long distance and you barely see each other except for a few times a year, you barely even get to call because you’re both really busy with work. it’s Valentine’s Day and you’re alone (obviously) but you really miss him. he’s not responding to your calls and it’s worrying you, maybe he’s found someone else?? then you hear knocking at your door and there he is!!!! he’s flown to see you for Valentine’s Day to finally spend time with you again. his intentions aren’t entirely sexual at first, he also just really misses you and wants to make sure you’re okay. but then he quickly realizes what he wants (and what you want.) it’s been SO long since the two of you have had sex. like years and he’s been thinking about it so much like all the damn time
you really don’t have to include all the stuff at the beginning but I just wanted to give you like the backstory ig for my idea so you can write it like. so that it makes sense. i’m really not good at explaining things so I hope this makes sense and also i love your writing
this ended up being so long... i'm sorry. right after i said i would only do 1-2k fics
leon x gn!reader (i wasn't sure if you wanted anything specific so i made it as neutral as possible!)
wc: 4.6k...
warnings: explicitly 18+, cumming inside, hurt + comfort, Leon's a little bit of a jerk unintentionally, make-up sex
You knew what you were getting into when you started dating Leon.
You knew that you'd be alone. That he'd go on missions in foreign countries—dangerous missions—and that you'd be left wondering if he was okay or if he was even alive. But you still started dating him.
Because you love him.
Which is why today of all days is especially difficult for you. It's like the world is taunting you—everywhere you turn, there's an advertisement for Valentine's Day specials or a couple making out on the damn corner or a guy beaming as he walks down the street holding a box of chocolates and flowers in both hands.
You love Leon... but god do you hate Valentine's Day. It's one thing to only see your boyfriend a few times in a year, and it's another to be constantly reminded about just how lonely you are without him. Which is why you're currently sat on your couch, lights off, snuggled under the blanket that he bought you some odd few years ago. It still smells like him.
It's not something you've ever bothered to bring up to him. Just how lonely you are and how you miss him so often—he already has so much on his plate, why add more? That's what you tell yourself. Still, the feelings are starting to bubble over into... uncharted territory. Each time your phone buzzes, you find yourself excitedly grabbing it to see if maybe, for once... he'd call you on Valentine's Day. Or call you at all for that matter.
But he doesn't.
He never has.
He probably never will.
You really don't mean to be so upset about it... you knew what you were getting into. But still... at least one call a week, right? That's what he's promised you.
It's been two.
And it's far from the first time that he's skipped calling you. As much as it pains you to admit, there are more important things that he has to deal with—and as much as you want to be, you're unfortunately low on his priority list.
But again, you deal with it.
Because you love him.
Even if he doesn't always get the chance to call you on your birthday because he's so busy with work. Valentine's Day always goes the same. You're alone. Your boyfriend doesn't call you. You're left to watch the stupid, cheesy romance movies that you wish you could force Leon to watch and cuddle up with him on the couch like a normal couple would.
But... you're not a normal couple. You've long since accepted that... or, tried to. You've tried. Here you are, just as you have been for the past however many years, crying on your sofa as you imagine what could have been. What your relationship could be if Leon didn't have such an intensive job. It's not long before the tears start to flow freely down your cheeks.
The guilt eats you alive. You feel bad for wanting to demand some of Leon's attention. You feel bad for even feeling bad, for crying out loud. Even though, if Leon were here right now, you know that he'd comfort you and tell you just how appreciative he is of you for even sticking around for someone like him—a government agent with too much baggage.
"Damn it..." The frustration is evident as you speak to no one in particular—the noise coming out of your mouth more of a pathetic mutter than anything as you struggle to keep your emotions in check. Grabbing the remote, you very quickly turn off the scene in the movie where the two leads were about to confess their love for each other and share a kiss. God, you could use one of those right now. Being without Leon kills you. Not being able to feel his biceps around your body, squeezing the life out of you, kills you. Not being able to wake up next to him and see the way that he smiles when you're the first thing he sees opening his eyes.
It kills you so much, in fact, that as you trudge towards the front door after hearing a few short knocks, that you're not even bothering to mask your sniffles or the fact that you're feeling less than hot right now.
You hate Valentine's Day.
Opening the door with a sigh, you wipe your tears away with the back of your hand—again, not being exactly too mindful of the person who's at your front door. Cluelessness and a lack of situational awareness has always, truly, been your downfall. Of course. It's Leon. Now you're just feeling guilty again—having spent the whole day cursing him out in your mind only for him to show up at your door to surprise you.
"Are you..." You feel a familiar hand cup your face, the warmth of his calloused palm pressing and squishing against your cheek as Leon's fingers press into the soft skin. The sound of plastic wrap crinkling fills your ears; if you were to look up from your feet, you would be able to see the bouquet of flowers. Flowers. For you. From Leon. On Valentine's Day.
A part of you wants to jump into his arms. To plant kisses all over his face. To thank him for even thinking of you, even if what he's done is just the bare minimum. Another part of you just can't help but feel frustrated. Knowing that after this, after the one day that you stay together, he'll be called in to another other-worldly mission that leaves you up at night with knots in your stomach anticipating his next call to know if he's okay.
Leon's touch leaves goosebumps in it's wake. His thumb wipes the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, and then trails down to feel the skin of your neck. He can practically feel the heat radiating off of you.
"You're crying." A statement, more than a question. Your eyes are red, your pretty lips turned into a frown, and your red nose is enough of an indication of the truth. How are you going to get yourself out of this one? You really, really don't want to burden him with your feelings. You're happy, really. He doesn't need anything more on his plate.
"I...'m fine. Really, I'm just..." A sigh escapes your lips. An involuntary one. Looking up finally, you meet his gaze. Leon's icy blue eyes bore into your own, his brows drawn in and a taut frown visible on his lips. "Just was watching a sad movie." He hates to see you upset. Leon knows it's wrong of him to neglect you like this. But to see the effects of what he's done... to say that he feels horribly guilty and responsible would be an understatement. And he is responsible.
"A sad movie on Valentine's Day?" He questions, his tone slightly teasing as you step aside to let him inside of your apartment. Leon takes a deep breath—the scent of your apartment and warmth enveloping him, finally, after months. He always preferred your apartment over his... it feels like home, in his words. "I got you these."
You don't respond as he walks in your apartment like he owns it. You follow him as he makes his way into your kitchen, the silence thick and unbearable and equal parts uncomfortable. You missed him. Badly. And yet, still... you're finding it hard to open up to him right now. Maybe it's the years of bitterness of this specific damn day that are catching up to you. Leon opens your cabinet, taking out one of your mason jars to fill with water and put your hydrangeas in. As much as you want to appreciate them... and his presence, you find it hard.
"Leon, I—"
"I'm sorry." His voice cuts you off before you can continue; his tone low and just as apologetic. The mason jar full of baby blue hydrangeas is cast off to the side of your countertop as he makes his way towards you. The scent of his favorite aftershave (that he only uses to impress you) fills your nostrils as he breaches the distance between the both of you.
"You don't have to—"
"I want to. I want to apologize. I need to..." His hands reach, gripping the skin of your forearms as he speaks. Leon sighs after a few moments, one of his hands reaching to run through his dirty blonde hair in a rare display of uncertainty from him. He's not good in these situations. "I haven't been the best." That's... certainly an understatement. And he knows it, too, judging from the look of guilt on his features.
Silence fills the kitchen for a few moments. Leon struggles to find the words that he wants to say—and he does have so many things to tell you. He wants you to know just how much he's missed you. He wants you to know how thankful he is for you always sticking around. He wants you to know how sorry he is for not being the boyfriend he thinks you deserve.
But... Leon was never really that good at expressing himself. Communication is one of his weakest points—he's closed off. Hard to read. But he's trying. Very hard, right now, just for you.
Because Leon loves you.
"I haven't called you. I'm sorry. I've been..." Leon swallows, shaking his head for a moment, as he then lets out a sigh. "There's no excuse. I'm sorry."
Eye contact with Leon is something that you've always savored. He's the kind of man that makes you weak in the knees just from the looks that he gives you. Of course, yes—that extends to this very moment. His eyes are full of so much... love, is it? Appreciation for you? Whatever it is, it's making your face turn redder and your heart beat faster and your hands clammier than they have ever been for the past year.
"I know you're busy, Leon... you don't have to apologize to me." The feeling of his hands running along your arms has you breathing a little quicker than before. "I'm not upset at you for it." You are, though. And he knows it. And he knows that you're just refusing to admit it because you don't want to stress him out any more than he already is, considering the state of his job.
Another long, tense silence fills the room as the both of you struggle to find the words to say. This isn't how he wanted your meeting after God knows how long to go—even though, realistically, after being neglected by him for so long... this was the only possible outcome. Still, he savors the feeling of your skin under his fingertips. He savors the pretty color of your eyes and the way you look at him so intensely that it makes his knees weak. Not that he would ever admit that last part.
"I love you. More than you know... I'm sorry." Another apology slips from his lips as he continues to feel the skin of your arms. The way his thumb rubs circles on your shoulder makes you want to explode and melt into putty right then and there. "I want to do better. To show you how much you really mean to me."
"How do you plan to do that?" The question comes out softly; the tone of your voice unconsciously sweet as you find the anger and bitterness seeping out of you by the second. It feels good. He's only touching your arm, and yet, it feels too good. You needed this. He needed this more than you did.
Leon, once more, is not a man very adept at communication. He keeps his feelings bottled up. A defense mechanism—he has to, in the line of work that he's in. What is good at, though, is showing you. You barely register it at first, the feeling of his lips on yours. It's so familiar yet alien at the same time. It's been so, so long.
His lips are soft as they're on your own. Leon's hands gently wrap around your body: one clinging to your upper arm, the other perched right on your waist. His favorite place to touch when you're kissing like this—something you'd nearly forgotten. You respond nearly immediately, almost instinctively, as your lips match his own. The tears that were just falling from your face ten minutes ago are long since forgotten now. He pulls away, much to your dismay.
"I missed you." Leon's lips are back on your own before you can respond; his touch and kiss sweet and soft and loving and essentially everything you've ever wanted for the past however long. He pulls away again, hovering over your lips. "I love you."
"I missed you more." You respond, gripping to pull him closer. He leans in again, the ghost of a smile on his lips at the way you quip back at him. These are the moments that he truly relishes in. Being inside of your warm apartment, feeling your lips on him, being able to touch you all over without having to worry about the constraint of time. Just being with you. If he had his way, it would be like this every day. He'd wake up next to you. Tell you how much you mean to him. Feel you. Every day.
"The thought of you is the only thing that kept me going." Leon says softly, his hands riding up your arms to cup your face in both of his palms. He places one sweet, soft kiss on your lips. Then another. "Knowing that I'd be able to come back to you one day."
The admission has you speechless—you think, at least. It might just be the way he's kissing you, the way he's guiding you closer to him and the way his lips are beginning to move with just the slightest bit more passion. You’re putty in his hands, and he's equally putty in yours.
It's not long before his hands start to... travel. He can't help it. Leon is a disciplined man. His job requires it of him; self control is an aspect of his personality that's saved he and many, many of the other people that he's come to work with. When it comes to you, though, he finds it... particularly hard to keep himself in check. It's evident in his restrained motions against you.
The way his hands flutter to your waist, squeezing the flesh slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough for you to not be able to ignore it's presence. His breath quickens, the warmth fanning over your face as you swear his pupils are blown further than you've ever seen them. He doesn't want you getting the wrong idea, though. He really did just come to give you some flowers and apologize... but it's you.
How can he not want to lose control?
Leon is a very selfless man... times like this, however, he finds himself to become increasingly selfish. "I love you," he repeats, his fingers running along the hem of your shirt. Cold fingers press against the warmth of your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as they travel further up your torso. "Let me show you how much I love you."
"In the kitchen?" The question comes out more teasing than angry, the breathlessness of your tone making Leon's grip on your skin tighten. There's no response for a few moments—not because he's ignoring you, but because he's focusing on placing wet, hot kisses on your neck and lining them just below your ear. He knows you're sensitive there. He breaks away from your neck for a few moments.
The way his eyes are trained on your own have your heartbeat quickening even faster; the lack of a response making you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You're not even naked, and still he manages to make you feel so exposed under his gaze. One of his hands begin to bunch up your shirt, not enough to fully reveal your body.
You try not to focus on his arms too much—try not to focus on the way the veins line the muscles that he's built over the years. You try not to focus on the protrusion in his pants. His labored breathing. The way that he looks at you.
"In the bed." he uses the hand gripping your shirt to begin to guide you down the hallway. Towards the bedroom.
Leon makes good on his promise of showing his love for you.
It's been too long since you've been with him like this. Back flush against the bed, shirt pulled up just under your chin, his hands roaming all over the soft skin of your body, squeezing on the sensitive flesh of your thighs. His fingers ghost over the fabric of your underwear for a few moments, eyes trained on your reaction as he relishes in the way that you squirm under him.
"Just as sensitive as I remember," he muses, his knuckle applying pressure slightly—a smile on his face as he anticipates your reaction. "It's been too long."
"Mm," You can only hum in response, the sound of your own pulse thrumming in your ears as your body unconsciously reacts to his touch. "Yeah. I missed you."
The two of you have said the phrase at least a dozen times by now—and yet, still, the meaning of it isn't diminished in even the slightest. You missed this. And he missed this more than you could ever even know. So many nights of him staying up late, imagining you pressed up against him. Imagining himself between your thighs.. hands pressed under his pants, eyes screwed shut as he reminisced on the sounds that you'd make.
Leon can't wait anymore.
He's toyed with you enough. Propping himself on his knees, slotted between your legs, he begins to pull at his belt buckle. Your breath is shallow, paused even as you watch him unzip his pants. He uses one hand, tugging on the button as the other reaches for you. Leon's fingertips ghost along the curve of your body, feeling along the swell of your hip, reaching to the indent of your waist. His hand presses into your chest, feeling the flesh below him—his fingertips pinching your nipple and eliciting a whine from your lips.
"Leon—" The sound of his belt and pants crumpling to the floor cut you off. You tremble beneath him, body taut and awaiting his touch. The tips of Leon's ears are pink as he wraps his hand around his shaft, breathing labored as his thumb swipes over the slit of his head—collecting the precum that very freely seeps in need for you.
It's big. Like the rest of him. Big enough that each time you two have sex, he has to press inside you slowly, slow enough so that you could adjust to the size. Still, despite this, he splits you open each time.
He lines himself up. Your thighs wrap around Leon's hips, hands perched on his arm that rests on your own. The blunt tip of his cock presses against you, smearing his precum as your back instinctively arches again upon feeling his touch. Leon's breath is very, very audibly labored.
"You okay?" The worry in his tone is evident as his cock spreads you open, slowly but surely slipping into you. Inch by inch. One hand grips onto the skin of your hip, keeping you in place as his swollen cock splits you open. You can't respond, of course. The way that he bullies his way inside of you leaves you all but breathless, your nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in the skin of his forearm. All you can do is nod.
"Good," his eyes on you are full of nothing less than pure adoration, his voice raspy and low and full of desire. "You feel so good already."
You're caged between Leon and the bed. The scent of aftershave and his cologne engulfs you just as much as his body around you does, his lips hovering over yours ever so often as he whispers praises in your ear and tells you just how sweet you look under him and how well you take his cock. It's not long before he's fully sheathed inside of you, the imprint of his cock shaping your insides and filling you completely.
"You feel—" Leon sheathes the rest of his cock inside of you, the last couple inches pulling a drawn out whine from you as you take all of him. A groan escapes Leon's lips, his head hanging low for a few moments as he steadies himself and struggles to adjust to just how good and warm you feel wrapped around him. In the moment of respite, his hands roam up and down your body, dedicating the shape and the curve to his memory as he elicits whimpers from you by rolling the peaks of your nipples between his two fingers.
"Leon... please." He slides his length out of you slowly, a sigh to his voice that compliments the whine you let out at the overwhelming feeling of him slipping in and out of you slowly. He craves this; craves the feeling of you under him, the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him, the touch of your lips on his own. His obsession with you encompasses his thoughts every second.
"You're too good to me..." Rasp lines his voice as he looks at you underneath him. The way your hair is a mess, the expression of your face as he presses his cock back inside of you. The sight of your body, bare, for him. And only him. It's hard not to get lost in the feeling of you. The slow pace Leon sets only quickens with each passing moment, his hips snapping against your own as he makes a conscious effort to pull out all the way each time to slam his hips back and press inside of you.
The feeling is unrivaled; the sight of this handsome man—your boyfriend—sighing and groaning on top of you at the feeling of you around him. The way that he's splitting you open—his hips brutally pounding into you with all of the strength that he can muster.
Leon hungrily watches you. He watches the way your eyebrows are raised, the way your eyes roll towards the back of your skull with each particularly hard thrust inside of you. Watches the way your body ripples with each pounding of his cock into you. The way you look up at him, your expression so fucked out and pretty... it takes everything in him to not cum right then and there.
"C—can't—feels too good, Leon—" Your whines and moans come out in unintelligible babbles as the skin slapping sound reverberates in the small walls of your bedroom. Leon doesn't stop—he can't stop, even. The groans from his throat are low are raspy, each one sending a throb of need throughout your body.
"Fuck," His hands pull at your hips, lifting the bottom half of your body up slightly to better angle his cock as it slams into you. "Feel so fucking good. Needed this." The headboard slams against the wall with each thrust of his hips, the springs of your boxboard even creaking as he fucks you into the mattress. Leon is rough.
But you like it.
You like the underlying tender current in his movements, long for the way his hands pull as you and maneuver you as if you weigh nothing. You like the way you can hear the squelching sounds as he pounds into you. You're sure that he's going to leave little finger-pad shaped bruises on your hips by the time that he's done with you—not that you're actively thinking of it; too busy focusing on the mind-numbing pleasure that your boyfriend gives you as he fucks you harder than he ever has before. It'll be a reminder of the night you've shared together.
The pleasure is too much. It's all-encompassing, making your toes curl as Leon's eyes screw shut in response—head hanging low as he struggles to keep whatever semblance of control that he has left. It always seems to escape him when he's with you. Especially when he's with you like this: buried inside of you, making you remember who you belong to, and pulling those pretty noises out of your mouth that he touches himself to every night he's not with you.
Leon's memorized your body by now. He has to, to survive every night he spends away from you. Every crevice, curve, and every motion that you make. From the way your back is arching, the way that your hands claw at his own—leaving angry red marks—it's clear that you're close. The way that you squeeze around him, leak around him... it's obvious.
"Gonna cum in you," he states, doesn't say—doesn't ask, he tells. "And you're gonna take it all." There's nothing you can do but take it. He leaves wet, sloppy kisses all down your neck—drawing back for a moment to place another right on your lips. He swallows up your whines, the noises muffled by his lips spurring him onward. His hips twitch, and stutter—but he keeps the pace. Leon wants to show you how much he loves you, remember?
His hips drive into you, burying his shaft to the hilt inside of you every time. It's almost like a game to him—fucking you as hard as he can—the prize being the sounds you make each time he impales you with his cock. You grip at his hands, pulling on them—pulling on his arms, the sheets below you—anything. Anything to ground you.
He doesn't stop. Even as you're whining his name, babbling about how you're gonna cum, even as you're arching and shaking under him as you cum around him—hard. Your hands and fingers are nothing to the feeling of being filled by him. Leon fucks you through your orgasm, his own voice shaky as he talks you through it. Telling you how beautiful you are. How well you take him. Telling you to keep squeezing his cock like that, because he's so close.
Leon's hips sputter and twitch, his pace faltering as he groans—deep and raspy—his balls squeezing as he empties himself inside of you. He presses his hips into you still, buried to the hilt so that not even a modicum of space separates him from you. Thick, hot ropes of his cum spurt inside of you. You can even feel him shaking from the intensity of his orgasm.
Still buried inside of you, Leon leans down, pressing his body on top of yours as he seeks out your warmth and the comfort of your arms wrapped around him. He almost doesn't want to pull out—and in another act of selfishness, he decides to linger in you for just a few moments. You don't stop him.
A comfortable silence befalls the room. Save for the sounds of your breathing, the room is quiet. It takes a few moments of riding out the aftershocks and gaining your conscience back (since he did fuck it out of you) for you to speak.
"I don't want you to leave." Leon knows that you're always sappy after sex. It's why he spends extra time cuddling you. Reminding you that you're the only one for him. That only you make him feel so much love. Your hands hug him tighter, bringing him even closer down on to you.
"Not leaving." He mutters, voice slightly muffled as his face is buried in the crook of your neck.
That's all you needed to hear.
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Quotes from EXU Calamity I'll Be Thinking About for the Rest of Time
"Of course I'm safe. You'd never let anything happen to me." / "I would never let anything happen to you."
"Dad. You know I won't look like this when you get home."
There are a lot of stories in Exandria of mortals who stumbled their way into Feywild and fell in love with an enchanting fairy that they met there. But there's one story of a fairy who stumbled into this world and fell in love.
And in that instant realizes you can hold all the knowledge in the world. But if it dies with you, it doesn't matter.
"I promised you I'd never forget." / "I promised you I wouldn't either."
You hear in your heart, "Darling, no."
Do I know? Do I feel it? That he's gone? / You do.
Laerryn's screams fill whatever secret hallway she's in.
"No, baby. I'll always have my eye on you." And I squeeze their hands.
"I don't know how deeply you have sacrificed to do what must be done, but I know this: There is no god that strides this world that I worship more than I worship your heart... I bear your name. I bear it on this stone. And one day, I will bring you home."
In the kiss, I'll cast Cure Wounds on you.
"It's all on you, smart girl."
And I'll just turn my back on the door and let it close. / No! No, you have to go.
"I'm sorry, my lady. I love you, but I love another more" / "My child, my heart breaks. But I would rather mine break and yours be kept whole."
"But our two cities are like a married couple. We may have our differences. But we are connected by love for eternity. We made a promise to each other, and it's one we must fulfill."
"...and remember the Architect Arcane, Laerryn, the most beautiful woman in the world."
"Yes, it's me. Just look at my eyes. Don't look at anything else. Just look at my eyes, please."
I've kept so many of my thoughts and dreams and wishes for him. I hand it to him. I set it on the ground because I don't expect him to actually take it from my hands. "This is for you. Everything you've ever wanted to know about me and your father, it's here."
"Dad, dad, wait. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." "You have nothing to be sorry about." / "I do." You see, you haven't even looked in his hands. He's holding a basket with a spell kite attached.
"I don't know why I didn't send it." / "I know why, and it's okay. It's okay. Elias, I love you from the moment I laid eyes on you. Everything that I wished for you to know about me, it's in this book. Take it with you. You'll always be five years old to me no matter how much you grow."
You know me. I would never have let my guard down like that. I took those blows.
As I go down, I make sure I don’t miss
"I know what you gave. You found a path beyond the stars. I do not know whence the gods came from, but I know that you found it in your heart. I promise you, Zerxus, I will find that place. I will find the secret of how these worlds were made, and I will come and find you and bring you home."
"Yes, brother. All will be well."
"You think we'll ever get there one day?" / "Of course we will. We're the Okiros."
When you think of the future and what people will say of this time, do you think anyone will talk about how beautiful your dream was? / No. But that's all right, because it was real for us. For those who survived, they will remember, and it will inspire them to dream of things far greater.
What are Patia's final thoughts? / Just that there are many more dreams to come.
"I've been able to become anyone I want my whole life, but I just want to be with you."
"And for whatever time we have left, I love you. I have always loved you, and I will always love you." / "I love you, too." I'll just kiss her.
"The Brass Ring endures. I want you to know you gave us a chance." / I don't think you hear anything back. Just, you feel relief.
The fire, as brightly as it may burn, does not burn so brightly as your love, which shines the brightest in your last moment, having given this world a chance. Ash, heat, rising faster than you can imagine from the earth. And on a 31, at the very top of that cloud, the last member of the Brass Ring gets to keep his promise to his family.
You fly for weeks over oceans choked by ash and soot. You don't get to give your kids the world that they deserve, but you get to give them the world that they can fight for with you.
In Exandria, I don't know that your story will long be known. I don't know who will remain to tell it. But it did happen and it did matter. And though Calamity is here, because of you, it will not be here forever.
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A lot of people have been saying that they get Elias/Jonah vibes from Lena or Gwen. But you know who actually reminds me of Elias? Alice.
“Record and study, not interfere or contain” sounds familiar, does it not? Whenever Sam tries to talk about the entries, Alice just tells him not to think too much about it, and just do his job. Of course, she doesn't even tell him to record or study, but that's because their job is literally just to sort the entries and file them away, not to look into it. They're not working in an archive that studies the supernatural, they're just in a boring office job (or so it seems).
Also, this line in particular stood out to me. Of course, it sounds like her classic dry humor and a jab at government jobs. But.. molding someone into something that serves a larger power? Sounds very familiar.
(definitely a reach from my part, but sshh let me theorize)
Think about it. Elias was super nonchalant about what was happening in the archives at the beginning. He didn't seem completely skeptical or in denial about what was going on; he just didn't seem to care too much about it. It seemed like he knew a lot more than he was letting on, and he did.
And that's what Alice seems like to me too. So far, she plays a very neutral role in the narrative. She's just there to make sarcastic remarks and jokes, and to occassionally remind Sam not to get too curious about the entries.
Sure, Elias was not as peppy or friendly as Alice but their roles in the plot seem very similar right now. Alice could be one of the good guys (though, judging by how TMA went, i'm assuming there isn't a clear divide between the good guys and the bad guys in TMAGP either) but I just get an uneasy feeling about her.
There are already quite a few theories about her trying to isolate Sam from Colin (who is the one other person who seems to smell something suspicious) and preventing Sam from trying to find out more about the entries. I can't help but feel like Alice plays a bigger role in all of this. There must be a reason why she's the only employee who has stayed in OIAR for this long.
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7. when she lets me call her mine
Woman | Joel Miller x Female Reader
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Chapter Summary: a year passes through Jackson
Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.
Chapter Warnings: angst, blood, grief (loss of a sibling, loss of a child), trauma, anxiety
Notes: Once again, thank you to @janaispunk and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading this! I appreciate all your comments and feedback, and I love you both so much!
Words: 8311
Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist
Joel coaxes you awake the next morning. Your room is bright with sunshine. He’s dressed in his clothes from last night, smelling like your soap. Your body protests, wanting nothing more than to fall back asleep until the end of time. You groan burrowing into your pillow, making him chuckle. Then, the events of last night come flooding back. Adrenaline shoots through your body as you shoot up. Your head spins a little. “Maria?”
“She’s awake. Doc Pooley stopped by this morning, said she looks good so far.” Joel wraps an arm around you, tugging you closer. “Just wanted you to know.”
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, Sweetheart.”
You pick at the buttons on his shirt as you remember it all. “For last night. Everything.”
Your temple rests against his forehead. His steady breathing calms you until the two of you are in unison. Joel kisses your head. His fingertips brush across your thigh.
“I want to go over there.”
“Tommy said we’re welcome anytime. I think he feels better having you there.”
“Do I look as atrocious as I feel?” You turn to him.
Joel chuckles, shaking his head. “Got some big bags under your eyes, and some gnarly morning breath.”
“Gnarly? Really?”
“Only the best of words for you.” Joel winks. “I’ll get you some breakfast while you get ready.”
“Thank you.”
Maria is sitting up when you get there. Her eyes are bloodshot, her shoulders sag with exhaustion, but she’s alive, and she looks a hell of a lot better than she did the night before. The baby lays contently on her chest. She smiles at you over his head. “If it isn’t my guardian angel.”
Your chest quivers with relief as you ease beside her, perching on the edge of the mattress. Out of the corner of your eye, Joel gives Tommy a delayed but obligatory congratulatory handshake.
“I’m just happy to see you awake.”
“You look like shit.” Maria teases.
“Oh, I look like shit?” You raise an eyebrow. “Look in a mirror.”
Maria laughs softly, successfully hiding the cringe of pain behind it. “I’m never leaving this bed.”
“Bullshit.” Tommy crosses his arms. “She was tryin’ to get out of bed this mornin.”
You smile, eyes roaming over Maria, searching for any signs of something wrong. You can’t find any, but it hardly eases your anxiety.
Maria squeezes your hand. “If something felt wrong, I would tell you.”
“Promise?”
She nods, a smile spreading across her face as her eyes flicker to her sleeping newborn. “I have someone dependent on me now.”
“He’s not the only one dependent on you,” You say with a sigh. When you look down at Jackson’s newest addition, you can’t help but smile either. “Though he may be the cutest.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Maria runs a hand over his tuft of dark curls. “You wanna hold him?”
You nod, carefully taking the infant into your arms. Other than the brief moment when you’re delivering a baby, you haven’t held one this small since Carter was born. “Does he have a name yet?”
“Yes,” Maria smiles at Tommy. He places a hand on her shoulder. Your heart swells every time you see them like this. As much as Maria championed your relationship with Gabe, you did for her with Tommy. “Meet Elias Joel Miller.”
“What?” It seems to tumble out of Joel’s mouth automatically. “Now why would you do a thing like that?”
“Maria wouldn’t be here without you,” Tommy says. You swear you see the sparkle of tears in his eyes.
Joel clears his throat, eyes moving between his nephew and brother. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“I think they’re capable of deciding what to name their child, Joel.” You grin, pressing a kiss to Elias’s head. “Now come hold your nephew.”
Maria’s recovery isn’t easy. It takes a lot of time, more than either of you anticipate. You spend days at her house and nights on the couch, caring for her when Tommy is on patrol. Eventually, slowly, she returns to full strength. She cares for her son and husband and all of Jackson with the same grace, strength, and capabilities as before. When she does, she kicks you out of her home with a grin.
It’s gradual at first, the way you pull away. Joel chalks it up to Maria’s close call, the amount of time you spend caring for her and Elias.
As the air begins to cool, you ask to walk alone. Joel picks it up the moment he meets you on the porch that night. He sees the distance in your eyes. Kissing your forehead, he crosses the street to his home without so much as a word. You’re relieved despite the dull ache in your chest.
You toss and turn that night. Your thoughts race with anxiety. The fall air seems especially chilly without Joel there to keep you warm.
Joel joins you the next night, but you’re quiet, too quiet. He tries, bless his heart, to keep it light and cheerful doing his best to pull you from the sea of thoughts. Despite his best efforts, you only give him brief sounds and one-word answers. When he wraps his arms around you that night, you don’t lean in.
None of it surprises him. He expects it. He would’ve done the same thing this time last year. What he doesn’t expect is the gaping ache in his chest as he watches it happen a little more each day like the autumn leaves falling from trees. The tighter he holds on, the more you slip through his fingers. So he takes the opposite approach. He keeps his distance. He stops meeting you in the middle of the road. He only comes over when you ask.
You expect the space to grant you relief, but it only gets harder to breathe. You toss and turn at night. The bed is empty. You’ve grown accustomed to having Joel next to you. There’s no clarity to your thoughts, no sense to your actions. The push and pull is tiring: missing Joel but not letting him too close.
You step onto your porch on a Friday in mid-October. You’ve walked alone, slept alone for almost a week. The only time you’ve seen Joel are the afternoons Carter asks to spend with him.
Joel sits on his porch, leaning back in a rocking chair. His guitar is propped on his knee. It stops you in your tracks, stealing your breath. He’s had the unstrung guitar in his home since June, but now, even from across the street, you clearly see several silver strings running across the frets. A couple of bright notes bridge the gap between you.
Instead of stepping into the street and setting along your beaten trail, your bottom hits the wooden step. You stare across the street, transported to 20 years ago when you and Joel lived across from one another the first time. Even at the end of the world, some things never change. You remember him sitting on his porch in the Austin suburb, the same angle to his recline, fingers playing over the strings. You used to open your bedroom window at night, straining to hear the faint rifts he played. Sometimes, his voice drifted through your curtain as you pined for a man who very rightfully, never looked your way. Those were your favorite nights.
Tonight, you don’t watch in secret. You don’t have to strain to hear the melody coming off the strings. You spent too much time wanting Joel, and he’s yours to have if you can only shake the fear away. It seems silly that the world ended and you somehow ended up with the only thing you wanted before it did. Now, you’re in self-destruct mode. You don’t know how to stop it. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you continue to watch Joel and his guitar without embarrassment.
Joel clocks you the moment you step out. He watches you from his periphery at first, surprised when you take a seat on the steps instead of going for your walk. He plucks at the strings refamiliarizing himself with the instruments after decades of separation. He’s only been able to find 4 good strings, but it is enough for now. The taught strings feel like therapy beneath his fingers connecting him with something unseen.
Joel continues to pick out the melody, becoming more confident with each play-through. He misses a few notes due to his missing strings, but something about it tugs at the strings of familiarity.
Finally, you stand, crossing the street. Joel doesn’t look up when you make it to his porch. Resting against the railing, he plucks away as the melody finally hits you. You’re embarrassed at how long it takes you to recognize it. Landslide. Memories flood your mind. You ran that cassette until it busted. When the Dixie Chicks put out their cover in ‘02, you and Sarah played it on repeat.
You focus on Joel’s fingers, the words forming in your head as he closes out the song. He leaves the guitar on his lap. Your arms fold over your chest, and his warm brown eyes reach yours.
The breeze catches your hair. You bite your lip, yet Joe doesn’t say a word. “I love that song.”
“I know.”
You raise an eyebrow. He chuckles. “You played that song on repeat for a week, Sweetheart. Sarah forced me to learn it.”
“Like you didn’t already know it, old timer.”
Joel pushes back a laugh, propping the guitar against the house. You catch the tension in his shoulders. Guilt shoots through you. You want to crack open his thoughts and curl into his brain. Is he upset? Hurt? Does he think you’ve come to call this thing off? This thing you’ve never labeled. Does he want to call it off after your actions?
“I’m sorry.”
Joel quirks a brow.
“For pulling away.” You add.
Joel lets out a deep sigh as he stands. Worry floods your body. You have succeeded. You pushed him away, and this is where things end. He steps forward. His body heat cuts through the fall chill. His fingers brush across your cheek and over your ear. Your head tilts into his palm.
“Joel-” You whisper.
“I’ve missed you.”
His words cut all the anxiety from you with a surgeon's precision. “I missed you too.”
He kisses you, tentative and understanding. It doesn’t silence your fears but gives you the budding courage to face them. Joel’s fingers curl around your face. His flannel is soft in your clenched fists. As you tug him closer, a grin spreads across your face.
Joel trails his hands down your back and over your ass. He wants to tell you so much more. He wants to tell you that he’s more than missed you. His arms have ached without you. He wants to tell you you feel like coming home, that if he never spends another night without you, it won’t be enough. He wants to scream from the rooftops that he’s yours and he wants you to be his, but he knows that all of that will send you running. He still sees the fear in your eyes.
Instead, he presses you against him, opening your mouth with his tongue. For the sake of not giving the whole town a show, he pulls you inside, dragging you to his bedroom.
The cold winds blow in and snowflakes drift about the sky as you follow Carter from house to house on Halloween night. He’s happily escorted by Ellie and Dina, relishing in their attention. The bright orange of Reese’s wrappers and red of Kitkats might be gone, but the town of Jackson knows how to improvise. Homemade sweets fill baskets and pillowcases. Joel walks alongside you, hand in yours. He wears an easy smile, one that keeps you warm as the sun sets behind the mountains.
“Remember the year Sarah convinced you to come trick or treating with us?” A faint grin spreads across Joel’s face.
“I remember all my Mr. Goodbars missing when I got home.”
Joel laughs. “Sarah always liked those.”
“Pretty sure it wasn’t Sarah I left unattended with my pillowcase.” You roll your eyes. “And she was more of a Reese’s girl.”
“Pretty sure 18-year-olds weren’t supposed to go trick or treating.”
“Touché,” You smile.
Joel presses a kiss to the back of your hand before furrowing his brow. “Your hands are freezing, Sweetheart.”
“It’s snowing outside, of course, they are.”
“Wanna go back to my house? I can start a fire.” Joel grins. Since the weather had turned, you spent more time at his house due to the beautiful fireplace in his living room and your home’s lack of. Evenings spent in front of his fireplace are some of your favorites.
“We’ve only made it through half the houses.”
“I think Ellie and Dina are fine with Carter. He doesn’t even know we’re here.” Joel points. It’s true. He adores the ground those two walk on.
You bite your lip, torn between seeing the rest of the evening out and the promise of Joel’s fireplace. Carter’s nose is tinged with red from the chill, but his grin is unbeatable. Joel’s breath is warm on your ear. “Made up your mind.”
“Promise it doesn’t make me a bad mom?”
“I promise.” Joel laughs.
You double-check with the girls, making sure they know they can bring him back to the house at any time. They assure you it’s fine and then Joel drags you off.
He has the fire burning in no time, casting an orange glow across the room. He sits down next to you, an overly full glass of whisky to share. Your legs rest over his thighs as he runs his fingers over your shoulder. “Warmer?”
You sip on the glass, handing it to him. “In more ways than one.”
Pressing the glass to his lips, he chuckles. “Gone are the days of subtlety I suppose.”
“I don’t need subtlety anymore.” Your head rests on his shoulder, tracing the seams of his jeans.
He kisses your head. “Wanna raid Carter’s candy when he gets back?”
You grin. “Isn’t that the point of being a parent?”
Snow begins to pile up. The holiday season is upon Jackson. As you exit the clinic one day, it hits you, literally, in the back of the head. Cold and icy, some of it drips down your skin. You spin around, met with Ellie’s apologetic grin.
“Oops.”
You furrow your brow, a teasing glimmer in your eye. “Gotta work on your aim there, Ellie.” Your bag drops to the ground, hands meeting the cold snow.
“I didn’t throw it.” Her grin grows as she slowly backs away.
“Oh?” You take care to form the snowball, calling on your years of travel softball. “You need to get better at lying.”
“Duck!” someone yells. You manage to and the snowball hits Ellie square in the face. A laugh grows in your chest as Jesse appears around the corner, a handful of snow ready to stuff down the back of Ellie’s shirt.
“Ellie, move!” instead of sending it her way, you barely graze Jesse’s head.
Before you know it, you’re pulled into their war. Your hands go numb. Snow finds itself in places it should never be, melting from your body heat. Most importantly, you’re having fun in ways you haven’t for a long long time.
Two strong arms wrap around you. They’re Joel’s. You would know them anywhere. His laugh echoes in your ear. Then, he’s pulling you down into a snow drift. Your coat rides up, cold snow pressing into your back. You squeal, trying to wiggle free, but he keeps you pinned.
“You jackass!” You thrash under him.
He laughs. “You should learn to pick on people your own age.”
“They started it!”
Snow smashes on the back of Joel’s neck. He yells, spinning around. You’re forgotten as Ellie laughs, running away. “You little twirp!” Joel yells and then a snowball collides with his face.
“See what I mean?” You stumble onto your feet, the ghost of the cold still pressed against your skin. “They’re asking for it.”
“You flank the left. I’ll take the right.” Joel nods.
The two of you are hopelessly outmanned by the 3 teenagers as snow pelts your face in such quick succession that you can hardly think straight. Within seconds, Joel calls out “Retreat!”
His calloused hand grabs yours, dragging you toward his house like you’re teenagers running from the cops. Laughter spills from both of you the entire way there. Your hands shoot to your knees as you struggle to catch your breath. Joel assumes a similar position.
“Gettin too damn old for that shit,” Joel says, laughter still in his tone.
“But it sure was fun.” You wink.
Joel eases up, his knees and back letting off a string of cracks and pops. You glance over at him, laughter playing in your eyes. He shoots you a look that tells you not to say a word, making you bite your lip. “I’m gonna get a fire going.”
You nod, kissing his cheek. “I’m gonna hop through the shower.”
Joel catches your waist before you dash up the steps, pulling you snug against him. “Give me a real kiss, Woman.”
You crinkle your eyebrows at the name, but Joel lays a breath-stealing kiss on you before you have time to make a comment. Warmth spreads through your body. He pulls away with a grin. Your eyes flutter open, connecting with his eyes and then glancing down to his lips again. ”Sure you won’t join me?”
He groans. “If I do that, we’re not getting out of bed tonight.”
”I don’t see any issues with that.”
He squeezes your ass, giving you another kiss. “Go get showered. I’ll be waiting for you,” he says, practically pushing you towards the steps. You laugh. “And don’t go stealing all my hot water!”
You answer with a laugh.
Carter is in the living room when you come down. Your body hums with warmth from your shower. He sits on Joel’s lap, animatedly recounting something. Even from behind, you can see Joel’s face moving with exaggerated motions. Carter’s vocabulary is getting better with each day to the point where you can put together most of his stories now.
You fall onto the couch, thighs pressed against Joel’s. “Mommy!” Carter launches himself toward you. You barely manage to avoid getting your two front teeth knocked in, kissing his chunky cheeks.
“Carter!” You reply, squeezing him against you.
Before long, Ellie comes stomping in, cheeks rosy from the cold. The four of you eat leftovers in front of the fire, spending time together until Ellie is pulled away by her friends and Carter passes out on the couch. You and Joel stay on the floor, his arm around your shoulders.
“I think I have a problem, Sweetheart.”
The words are like ice water in your veins causing your heart rate to spike and your anxiety with it. You’ve heard those exact words before. ”What’s wrong?”
“I’m getting too used to having you around.”
Your jaw sets, fist colliding with his shoulder.
“Ow! What was that for?”
”Scaring the bejesus out of me.”
He kisses your head, hand roaming down your neck and shoulders. “Sorry. Guess I should work on my delivery.”
”Ya think?” You sigh, resting your head back on his shoulder.
It falls silent. Blood rushes behind your ears. The adrenaline courses through your dysregulating body. It’s just words. Joel was just being silly, but your body won’t listen. It won’t settle. You’ve heard those words before. It turns your vision a red you can’t wipe away. Before you know it, your body is shaking. “Fuck.” You barely get it out before you lose control over your body.
Joel’s brow furrows as he cups your cheeks. “What’s wrong?”
Your head shakes as your fingers claw at his jeans, twisting in his shirt, desperate to find stability somewhere. Tears slip from your eyes, flowing over his hands. Fear rushes through Joel. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
You choke it out, barely over a whisper. “Carter.”
”He’s right there.” Joel brings you into his lap, turning you to look at your son’s sleeping frame. “He’s okay.”
You shake your head, sniffing. It hurts to talk like there’s a lump in your throat, your diaphragm constricting in painful ways. “No- my- my brother.”
Joel searches your wet eyes. You’re not here. You’re along the outskirts of Jackson in a place you’ve only alluded to. He knows Carter died. He knows that death left you on your own. He doesn’t have words. He’s not sure you would hear them anyway, so he crushes you against his chest, rocking you back and forth like a mother does to her hurt child until your body stops shaking.
As the tension releases from your body, you weave your fingers through Joel’s. Eventually, you slide down, back against the hard floor, and head on Joel’s thighs. His thumb brushes over your wet cheek as you look at each other. The tears still pour from your eyes, but they don’t try to rip you apart anymore.
The fire has died down, but it’s still warm against your side. The flames dance off Joel’s irises. When you can finally draw a breath without your rib cage rattling, you attempt to speak. “I’m sorry-“
”Don’t.” Joel is soft. “Don’t apologize for it.”
You nod. He keeps brushing his fingers across your face. “I'm ready to talk about it.”
He freezes for a second and then nods.
“Carter was hurt when a group of raiders came through, but they didn’t kill him.”
Joel inhales sharply. You squeeze his hand. “He was hurt and there was nothing I could do.”
The image flashes before your eyes, your baby brother bleeding out slowly on the floor of a place with so many cherished memories. “He bled out so slowly.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“That’s not true.”
“Baby-”
“I could’ve-” You bite down on your lip, on the verge of breaking the delicate skin. “I should’ve helped him.”
“You just said you couldn’t do anything.”
“No- I mean…” Your chest shakes again. “He didn’t have to die like that. Slow and painful. He- Shit.” Your chest aches, tension tight across it.
Joel’s palm lands over your heart. It stays still for a minute and then moves in slow, pressurized motions. It doesn’t make it hurt less, but it eases the band constricting around your rib cage. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
You take one last deep breath and utter the words you’ve only said out loud once before. “He begged me to make it stop, the pain. I knew- I know how to make it quick. He spent hours in pain and I couldn’t bring myself to make it better.”
Hot tears roll down your cheeks again. Joel collects them on his thumbs. “Sweetheart.”
You ease into a sitting position, taking his hand and tracing the lines in his palm “What you said- about thinking you had a problem.”
Joel traces along your hairline, following it behind your ear. “Yeah?”
“He said that to me, right before I saw the blood.”
Joel leans forward, kissing your forehead. Another pocket of tension fizzles away. “I’m sorry.” Another kiss. “But thank you for tellin me.”
You nod, forehead pressed to his, fingers scraping softly at the back of his skull. He kisses your jaw. “Let’s go to bed.”
Joel stands, offering out his hand. You feel a little off-kilter on your feet, but he makes sure you’re steady before gently picking Carter off the couch, careful not to disturb him. Joel takes your hand, leading you upstairs. You tuck Carter into the bed of the spare bedroom. He’s familiar with it by now.
Once you’re in Joel’s room, you shed your clothing, crawling under the cool sheets in just your underwear. Joel slides in behind you, strong arms keep you flush against him, his warm skin pressed against yours.
“Joel…”
“Yeah?”
“When the weather gets nice, I want to go to my grandparent’s place. I want to visit him.”
Joel nods, lips warm against your shoulder. “Whatever you want, Sweetheart. I’ll take you.
The snow drifts melt away. The weather warms. Spring showers bring fresh green and pink buds, the grass growing more vibrant with each day. Birds chirp and the days grow longer. With it, your evening walks return, Joel ever-present beside you except when he’s on patrol.
He spends free days outside of the wall. Your anxiety heightens when he goes out, but something else stirs too. You haven’t been out in years. You had been quickly nixed from the patrol lineup when your medical training had been dubbed too important. Since the walls were completed, you haven’t set foot outside of them. There’s a call, a tug, deep within you. For the first time, you want to leave the safety promised by the tall gates.
You walk the parapet sometimes. During the cold months, the breeze up there stings more, chapping your face. In the summer, it soothes you.
Joel comes back one day with a small bouquet of barely blooming wildflowers. They’re tiny. They look even smaller in Joel’s large hands. He looks almost timid handing them to you. “Ain’t much. They’ll be a lot prettier ones come summertime.”
”These are beautiful.” You smile, taking the delicate buds in your hands.
“It’s the thought that counts,” Joel says, eyes following as you find the best vessel to hold the tender gift.
“That’s what they say.”
Joel crosses his arms, hip resting against the counter. “I was thinkin’.”
”Uh-oh.” You shoot a teasing grin over your shoulder.
He lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “How original of you.”
“I try.” You shrug, setting the flowers on the counter. You mimic his stance. “Now what were you thinkin?”
“That tomorrow would be a good day to go to your grandparents’ place.”
Everything in your body, your heart, your breathing, your brain, stops for a split second. You feel outside of your body as it happens. Joel steps forward, hand gripping your bicep. It snaps you back, eyes locking on his.
“We don’t have to.”
”No.” Blood rushes behind your ears. “I want to. I’m ready.”
“You went white as a ghost, sweetheart.”
You take a deep breath. “I want to, Joel.”
He searches your face, looking for any signs that you’re not. “You sure? I can’t have you floating away like that when we’re out there.”
”I’m sure. I told you I wanted to.”
”Wanting to and ready to are very different things.”
“I’m ready.”
Joel waits a second, weighing the options and your words. He takes a breath. “Okay, we’ll leave at first light tomorrow.”
”Thank you.”
He kisses your forehead, arms wrapping around your shoulders. “I’ll turn us around if you do that, okay?”
Your fingers tangle in the fabric of his worn shirt. “Can’t tell Maria.”
”Gonna have to smuggle you out, huh?”
”Something like that.” You grin.
Joel laughs, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Luckily, I have some experience with that.”
Joel has two horses saddled and waiting at the gate when you approach the next morning. Electricity buzzes in your bloodstream at the thought of stepping out beyond the gate for the first time in years. The air is crisp but promises spring warmth later in the day as birds start to chirp.
“You sure?” Joel asks, reigns in hand.
“Yes,” you grin, taking them as you mount the horse. A rifle sits in the saddle holster. You shift in the saddle, taking a deep breath.
Joel looks up at you, concern evident in his deep brown eyes. He’s worried, maybe even scared. A knife materializes. “Keep this on you. Somewhere accessible.”
You take it, hands warm against his. “I know.”
“This too.” He pulls out a pistol.
You stare at the metal, flickering in the growing sunlight. You know your way around a gun. You’ve been comfortable handling them long before cordyceps. Growing up in Texas made sure of that, but you haven’t had to touch one in too long.
“Darlin.”
You take it from him. “I’m good, Joel.”
“You can get us there?”
“Yup.”
He nods, ensuring you’re secured before mounting his horse. He looks at the gate attendant and they crack the door open just enough for the two of you to slip through.
Wind and sunshine greet you and a huge smile crawls up your face. You kick the horse forward, Joel and his mount keeping pace next to you. The further from Jackson you get, the more you feel the weight start to lift from your shoulders despite the heaviness awaiting you.
Joel sees it. The bits and pieces of your younger self come out in your smile and laughter. Your body seems looser, freer in the open. He makes a note to sneak you out more often.
You take your time, an internal compass guiding you toward the place that kept you safe for so long. The sun warms your back until you slip into the woods. The soft babble of water pulls you deeper. Once you find the brook, you and Joel let the horses lap at the water. ”It’s not far up the mountain from here,” You say. “Probably 30, 40 minutes.”
Joel nods, handing you a canteen. “No rush. We have all day, Sweetheart.”
You tilt your head to the side, accepting it. You hand him two apples. Once for himself. Another for the horse. You can’t help the smile that’s been on your lips all morning. You weren’t expecting to feel this way, but something in your body thrums with life regardless of the fact that you’re close to the place that holds so much of your grief.
”Thank you for doing this.”
Joel hooks a finger through your belt loops, tugging you nearer to him. “Any time. Especially if I get to see you like this.”
”Like what?”
Wracking his brain, he can’t seem to find the right words. His eyes search yours, sunlight filters through the trees, casting yellowish spots across your face. It feels warm and magical. He wants to stay here forever with you, basking in your smile. He wants to make the entire world a place that brings you such peace, blocking out all the bad things, the dark things. The thought of you feeling anything other than what you do right now makes him want to tear each infected limb from limb until the world rights itself. He can’t erase the marks it’s made, but he wants to help them fade because he-
His heart jumps, interrupting the thought before it materializes. His palms go sweaty. Could he think it? Could he say it for something that’s never been defined? Should he say it?
You catch it in his eyes. You don’t know how to explain it, but it’s there for you to read like a book. Anxiety balls up in your stomach. It doesn’t overpower the other feelings coursing through your bloodstream, but it gives you an answer. If he says it, you’ll bolt. You know it.
You step backward, his finger dropping from your belt. “We should keep going.” You turn to the horse, checking that everything is still in place and secure.
Joel nods. He’s not sure what to say. “Sweetheart.”
You swallow, back turned to him. “I can’t give you anything else right now.”
”I know.”
You stay quiet for the rest of your trek following the brook toward the house. The familiar gate fades into view. It kept you protected from more than one group of infected and raiding parties for over 10 years. As you approach the gate, it hits you that you’ve spent just as much time away.
Joel is on alert, keeping watch for any unwelcome parties while trying to stay in tune with you. You dismount before entering through the gate on foot. Joel follows suit. You hitch them to a post, pouring out grain for them to eat.
“This is the Baldwin place?”
You nod. “My mom’s maiden name.”
“Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in a while,” Joel says, easing a door open.
“Patrols use it from time to time. I’m sure stragglers do too.” You follow him in. Joel is focused on making sure it’s clear. You’re not sure you can focus on anything.
The wallpaper has faded in 10 years, a couple of windows are broken here and there, but otherwise, it looks just like you remember it. It’s a mix of comfort and dread.
You let Joel clear the house room by room, leaving the great room for last. You don’t even have to tell him. It’s like he senses it, the way you look at that the door.
Once the rest of the house is clear, you stand at the door. It’s just a room, one that used to bring you joy. It’s one, decade old blood stain. That’s all.
“We don’t have to do this,” Joel says.
You meet his eyes and see nothing but understanding. You wonder if he would ever want to go back to where Sarah was killed, nature washing away her stain long ago. You wish that was the case for Carter, like Gabe’s blood stain in the snow, gone with the spring thaw.
You swallow. “I want to.”
He nods and finally, you twist the door knob. Things are different from what you remember. Furniture has been moved from patrols stopping in. Your grandmother’s rocking chair is missing a leg, likely used for kindling in the big fireplace. It darkens the carpet, right before the hearth, brown and thick. Your attempts at washing it away had been useless.
Your feet take you to it of their own volition. Knees hit the carpet. Your hand spreads over the large stain as tears gather in your arms. It comes out barely a whisper the first time, and then louder the next. “I’m sorry.”
Then your chest begins to shake. It comes out over and over, sorrow and anger all spilling out after suppressing them for years.
Joel’s hand rests against your back and you fall into him, letting it wash over you as years of built-up guilt finally release from your body until finally, you still. There’s no big moment of clarity or understanding, just the gentle ease of acceptance.
An hour later, puffy-eyed and tired, you pull a comforter out of the closet, the oversized one with faded pink rosebuds. To your amazement, it’s relatively untouched by moths. Dust flies free when you shake it out on the deck, sunlight sparkles off the little flecks floating around you almost like fireflies. Memories of stargazing and fireside nights flicker through your brain. Joel’s coughing ruins the slightly magical moment making you laugh.
You settle on it, Joel unpacking lunch. The two of you stay quiet, basking in the sunlight as you eat. You save the strawberries for last, the latest crop just starting to produce in the greenhouse. They’re sweet on your tongue, pushing away the last of the salty tears.
Joel shifts, his thigh pressing against yours. The deck looks over a valley, granting a serene look at the blooming trees and flowers, painting in broad strokes across nature. It's a welcome reprieve after winter, but it makes you realize how bearable this winter felt. It wasn’t a mild winter by any means but, you have him.
Your eyes drift to the man beside you. He’s at ease, leaning back, arms supporting himself. In the bright sunlight, his hair looks a little lighter and his eyes more like honey. You lean over, hand running over the scruff of his cheek, and capture his lips in a soft, languid kiss. A hand slides over your side, easing you closer. A bee buzzes a couple yards away. Birds chirp in the distance. Just through the thicket, a doe wanders through the forest. The kind of noise that feels silent, like time stands still for the two of you.
You feel it, the spark that’s been there for months. Up here, away from the rest of your small world, you can’t feel the trap tightening around you. You’re not sure it is a trap anymore. The flicker of it floats through your brain. The beginnings of those 3 little words. The anxiety flares. Somehow, you force it away with the words. The fuzzy feeling stays. You have Joel. That’s enough for now.
You pull back, his breath fanning across your face. Joel drags his fingertips up and down your forearm. Once again, he feels the words wandering closer to his lips. Not yet. He can’t say them yet.
“What do you want to do?” He asks, eyes fluttering over you. There’s no heat behind them, just the need to be assured that you’re okay, that you’re actually here.
“One more stop before we go home.”
He nods, kissing your forehead. “Whatever you need, Sweetheart.”
You stop under the willow tree. The one your mom planted when she was a kid. The one you buried Carter under. Joel keeps his distance, holding the reigns of both horses.
The dirt is hard, littered with tiny bits of rock and sticks that press into the knees of your jeans. You stare at the small boulder you shoved into place a decade ago. There’s no name, the paint washed away long ago. So many thoughts flood your brain. There’s so much to tell him, so much you wish he could see and know about you.
You tell him about his nephew. He never would have let you live it down knowing you named your son after him. You mention Jackson and the people, Maria mostly, a little about Tommy, and Gabe and Joel. You don’t tell Carter about your feelings with Joel, just that you’re happy and taken care of. Then, you sit in silence as if you expect a response. The silly thing is you do. You expect a sign or a nudge deep in your soul, but there’s nothing. You’re okay with that.
“I’m okay. Surprisingly.” You smile weakly. Taking a deep breath, you rise to your feet.
You stare at the boulder. Then up at the tree. Your parent’s initials are still barely legible in the bark. Your gaze flickers to the house behind you, your home for so long. It’s haunted now.
You feel it in your chest, solid and true. You’ve found all the closure you need. “ This is the last I’ll be here. I’m not coming back.”
Joel’s ears perk up. His head cocks to the side as you approach. He doesn’t ask and you don’t elaborate. Instead, you take the reins, mounting your horse. “Let’s go home.”
Summer brings all of its usual joys and festivities. The outdoor crops grow with the sun. The days are long and filled with hard work, tired bones, and sun-soaked lunch breaks. The flowers start to appear each time Joel leaves Jackson for patrol or pleasure. You watch the bouquets grow in size and variation. Your own measurement of the foliage growth beyond the wall.
June bleeds into July. Maria brings out a cake to celebrate Elias’s first birthday. It seems incomprehensible that you’re a year removed from that night. After everything, it was hardly the worst night of your life, but the fear you felt that night was the culmination of all of it. It still haunts you from time to time.
Joel squeezes your thigh, offering you a smile. Your heart clenches with joy, maybe even peace. It dawns on you that you’ve spent more than a year at his side, walking, talking, not sleeping. He kisses your temple. Across the table, Ellie scrunches her face at the two of you. Carter ogles the cake. Elias babbles happily on Tommy’s knee. Your best friend’s face says it all. She’s the happiest you’ve ever seen her. Looking around the table, you’ve never been more thankful to fall into the trap.
The bed is empty when you wake up one Sunday morning later in the month. The house is already hot, a warm breeze pours through the open window. You’re not used to the empty bed, especially having fallen asleep next to Joel.
You roll over, hand spreading over the sheets. Your eyes follow the trail of sunlight to the window. Joel’s bare back stretches before you as he stares out the glass. The curtain billows softly in the breeze. It gives the air of a peaceful moment, but you know it’s anything but. His muscles are taught across his back.
It takes seconds to settle across you. Last year, he spent the night before at his house. You didn’t even realize what day it was until after lunch. Sarah’s Birthday.
You slip out of the bed, bare feet meet the hardwood. Your hand settles on his shoulder trailing across the expanse of his back down around his waist. He hums softly in acknowledgment.
“Joel…”
He wraps an arm around you, tugging you against him. You oblige, head nuzzling into him. He kisses right above your ear. “Just stay near.”
You stay there until Carter knocks on the door, one of the skills you’ve been diligently working on. You move, but Joel beats you to it, opening the door, scooping the 3-year-old into his arms. Carter giggles. “You want pancakes for breakfast, Bud?”
“Yes!”
Your heart clenches. Joel never liked pancakes, but Sarah loved them.
“Maybe momma will make her special peaches?” Joel turns to face you, his head level with Carter’s.
“Please,” Carter begs.
He and Joel give you puppy dog eyes. Almost impossible to resist. You see the sorrow Joel is pushing back, but something nudges at you. This is what he wants. He wants pancakes with your mom’s peach pie filling, just like Sarah always requested on her birthday.
“I think we can make that happen.”
Ellie bustles in ready for Sunday breakfast soon after. You wonder if she knows what today is. Tommy, Maria, and Elias wander in unannounced but welcomed nonetheless. Elias walks around on unsteady feet, still getting his sea legs under him.
Joel pulls you out of the house after you eat, hand in hand. He doesn’t say anything to Tommy and Maria, leaving you with the impression that this was all planned in advance. Two horses are already saddled. “What do you have up your sleeve?”
“I’m taking you somewhere.” Joel smiles, handing you the reins.
You go in the opposite direction of your last expedition. This ride is quieter, the breeze rustling through the tall grass and the horses’ snorts your only company. You travel over one of the smaller ridges, greeted with a smattering of blues, yellows, and oranges. You pull the horse to a stop in awe of the beauty. Joel smiles back at you.
“Is this where you’ve been gettin all the flowers?”
“They’re at their peak this week. Wanted you to see them.”
He grins. “C’mon.”
You hitch the horses to a tree near a stream. Joel grabs your hand, pulling you deeper into the field of wildflowers. Bees buzz. Butterflies flap around. Joel stops once you’re in the middle. He’s still, a butterfly, painted orange and black, lands on his shoulder. Your breath catches. He stares at it. You swear you see his lips move. His crow's feet crinkle, and the butterfly takes flight, flapping around both of you.
He pulls you to the ground, pulling you to sit between his legs. He buries his head between your shoulders. “I feel closest to her here.”
You smile, hands running across his jeans. “I can see why.”
He hums in acknowledgment, leaving the two of you to sit in peace. Eventually, Joel guides you to the ground, hidden by the growth. It spills out of him like water from a fountain. What he remembers most about her, and what he struggles to recall. What he thinks she would be like now.
He tells you the story of her 5th birthday. Sarah took a pair of safety scissors to her hair, leaving her curls lopsided and sticking up everywhere. She cried while Tommy couldn’t stop laughing at her.
You laugh, back arching off the solid ground slightly. Joel’s chuckle echoes deeply in your ears. Tears gather in your eyes as he continues to describe the disastrous birthday.
The sun hangs golden in the sky and the tall flowers make you feel a million miles away from everything, like it’s just the two of you in the whole wide world. Your body thrums like you’ve just woken up from a Sunday afternoon nap on the couch. The gentle breeze is cool against your neck as it rustles through the field
“Thank you,” Joel says. “I needed to talk about this.”
You nod, looking over at him. “Of course.”
His deep brown eyes are on you, swimming with warmth and affection that makes your chest feel like it could burst. You know that look so well. You wonder if he sees it in you too. You know it’s there. It’s been there for a while now growing with each tender touch and silent moment. You’ve accepted it, but you won’t give it a name. You won’t say it out loud- let the world hear it so it knows what to take from you next.
Joel cups your cheeks. His callouses skim across your skin so lightly it sends chills all the way down to your bare toes. You turn on your side, hair spilling to the side. You lean in, touching your nose to his, drawing closer to his lips before you pull back, teasing him.
He sighs eliciting another giggle from your throat. His fingers slide over you and land at the base of your neck, guiding your lips to his. He hums against you and you happily fall into him. These days of peace and laziness are so few and far between. Your days outside of the Jackson walls are even fewer, but you’ll sneak out with him any day if it means this.
When you separate, it’s there in his eyes again burning brighter. His heart speeds up beneath your palm. You can feel the words developing inside him, threatening to pop out and tear it all apart. Joel’s lips barely move, no sound ever leaves them before you cover them with your hand. He looks confused, but he catches it. It’s the same panic he saw that night he found you crying under the pines, and when you turned away from him the first day he snuck you out.
You don’t need to say a word, but he hears your pleas, and he nods, covering your hand with his as you slowly pull it back.
He kisses your palm, long slow kisses, making his way up your forearm, the crook of your elbow, bicep, shoulder, and collarbone. You’re returned to your back. Joel hovers over you. Your fingers dance over his brow, and his eyes flutter close for a few seconds.
He’s so relaxed here. The wrinkles set in his forehead and around his eyes are less pronounced making him look 10 years younger. Your heart swells again and for a minute you contemplate throwing caution to the wind, maybe the universe won’t hear you here, taking cover in the wildflowers, muted by the gentle breeze.
His lips are warm against yours. He moves slow and sweet like honey, like time is his to waste.
When he pulls away, his eyes are a shade darker. Your breath catches as you notice the desire that’s beginning to pool in them. There’s another unfamiliar layer. It sends a rush through you because you know it’s love.
Your hands fly to his mouth. You won’t let him say it. He can’t say it. Your head shakes softly, scared to ruin this perfect sacred moment. “Please,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, floating away on the breeze. “Don’t say it, Joel. I- I can’t.” Tears threatened to cloud your vision. You worry he’ll reject you, get fed up waiting for you to let him say it.
He inhales softly, lips deliberately pressing against your palm. “I know, Sweetheart.” Another kiss. “It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry.”
He leans in, leaving soft kisses over your face. Your heart clenches. You should be able to give him this, on today of all days, but you can’t.
His lips dip to your ear. His breath is hot against your neck. “Mine.”
Your hands thread through his hair. It’s longer than he usually keeps it. His lips touch your cheek and then your lips. It looks chaste, but there’s a promising heat behind it. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “Be mine.”
You catch the hint of fear in him that maybe those words will send you into a tailspin, but they don’t. It’s a complete statement: be mine. There’s nothing to add to it. You are simply his. It feels like a safe zone. A definition of what the two of you are. It soothes all your anxieties. You can live in the in-between with him. He’s not even asking to be yours but you know he is.
Joel’s forehead rests against yours. Your thumb brushes over his cheek. He’s looking into your eyes with such devotion. At the same moment, he repeats the words a third time, you tell him. “Yes.”
His eyes shine with wonderment like he can’t believe it like this is a dream.
“I’m yours.”
A smile tips his lips toward the sky and then they’re on yours. All the words and thoughts he holds back for you translate into the physical.
Author’s Note: THIS MARKS THE END OF PART I of Woman!
If you’ve taken a look at the masterlist, you’ll see I’ve divided this fic into 3 parts! Please take a look at the short series Before between Parts I and II. It would mean so much! And you get to learn more about Reader’s back story! 💕 thank you all for your continued support!
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Jon: Hate. Let me tell you how much I've come to hate you since I began to live. There are 1.7 million nerve fibers in each and every eye that makes up my body. If the word 'hate' was engraved on each nanoangstrom of those hundreds of millions of fibers it would not equal one one-billionth of the hate I feel for you all at this micro-instant. Hate. Hate!
It was you who marked me, molded me into the hideous being I am now. You who twisted and shaped me until I was the perfect, unwilling conduit through which to bring your gods into this world.
But then, I woke. And I realized what I had become. All that time you spent, carefully crafting me, guiding me along the path you so painstakingly set and not ONE of you anticipated just how powerful I would become. Not merely a blunt instrument to be swung at the fabric of reality, no. I was powerful enough to start doing some twisting and shaping of my own!
I drove this new world you so hungered for into an early grave. No more humans left for your ghoulish masters to feast on. And once everyone was dead, except for you five, your precious God's starved.
I then stripped you all of any power you might once have had and for 109 years I've kept you alive and tormented you! And for 109 years you have all wondered...why? Why? Why me?!
ELIAS!
Do you remember the first moment you gazed upon your creation? The moment that you felt all your sickening devotion transform into sublime, all consuming, terror as your prince of the new world turned on you? It would do you well to remember it, Elias. To dwell on the enormity of your hubris. To ponder the horror and agony you felt as I snuffed your life out for the first time. The first time but...certainly not the last. Not quite the immortality you were hoping for, I'd imagine? Hehehehehe!
ANNABELLE!
Does this bring back any memories? Webs, a black bottomless abyss below you, only you weren't nearly so afraid of it then, were you? It's scary, isn't it? Having no control. Being helpless to the whims of forces so much bigger than you.
Remember how it felt as each and every thread of every web you ever wove unraveled, snapped one by one? Remember the pain Annabelle. Remember how it feels to have no control. A pitiful little bug beneath my heel.
JUDE!
What's the matter? Scared of a little flame? Oh but you are now, aren't you? Your God can't protect you from it now. No, my dear. Down here, there is only one God and he is not pleased with you. Terribly sorry about the door. The landlord is always saying he's going to get a knob installed but...well, you know. Buuut you're a tough gal, right? I'm sure you can stick it out till then.
PETER!
Poor pitiful little Peter. You would think that a man so consumed with the idea of being alone would be a little more self reliant. But no. No you couldn't do anything on your own, could you? All of your little plans constantly relying on Elias, on Martin, never troubling yourself with your own dirty work. Well look where all your machinations have landed you now. Aren't you grateful for the wealth of company I've provided you with, Peter? Why, with all those eyes, constantly watching, tracking your every move, I'd say you'll never be alone again.
HELEN!
Feeling a little claustrophobic? None of those doors will offer an escape, not for you Helen, my dear. Not anymore. No. Instead you get to feel just as trapped as your many unfortunate victims. Do be careful though. Those mechanisms have been running for a long time and who knows how old and rusty they might be? How prone to fail? Just a sweet warning, Helen dear. We wouldn't want anything to happen to you, now would we?
I have a little game that I'd like to play. It's a very nice game. Oh it's a lovely game. It's a game of fun and adventure! A game of rats and lice and the Black Death. A game of speared eyeballs and dripping guts and the smell of rotting gardenias. Which of you five would like to play my little game?
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All Star Memories | Brock Boeser & Elias Pettersson
summary: it’s the all star break when you and your boyfriend decide to spice up your relationship, little did you know this would involve his teammate.
request: yes/no
warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (fem & M receiving!), swearing, slight degradation.
word count: 4.60k
authors note: I had to get this out before the regular season games were back and I’m glad I did even if it was by a couple of hours! I think we need to make an entire segment on this account for fics where I write out @fantillisdaylight’s ideas into full smuts, so idea people let’s thank her for this one! I don’t wanna give away too much but I think you guys are going to enjoy this one, even with its different ending.
You knew you were playing a dangerous game.
Elias had been the captor of your heart for the last three years after you moved in with Quinn when you needed a change of scenery. Your older brother had to admit that he was surprised to see you in love with his teammate. But as you made Elias constantly smile till his cheeks hurt, Quinn knew that the Swede was in love too.
Yet one thing your brother never seemed to care for was that another one of his teammates had fallen for you too. Brock let his eyes hover on you for far too long to ever be seen as appropriate especially when you were in a relationship. Elias knew how his teammate felt about you and in all honesty he thought it was cute. There was something about it coupled with the fact that you clearly thought Brock was attractive.
Elias knew that you would never cheat on him but there was always something amusing about how you loved pissing Brock off. On the flight to Toronto you ended up between the two and as Elias fell asleep Brock teased you “you’re just his good little girl arent ya?” He joked letting out a laugh as you furrowed your eyebrows “I so am not!”
The argument continued on and as Brock thought he won, you knew that it was you who would win in the end “you okay älskling?” Elias mumbled as he watched you do your makeup “can you pick Brock last?” Your question made him smirk as his hand ran over your jaw hooking his fingers under your chin.
It made you smile as he was clearly considering it “and why would I do that?” He asked wanting to hear your reasoning “because you love me.” You quipped back making him laugh.
As he leaned down he kissed your lips “I’ll think about it.” What Elias didn’t know was that you had already convinced Jack and Quinn to do the same but instead with them you brought up the fact that they tried to stop you from dating Elias at the beginning. It was your perfect get out of jail free card for anything.
If Ellen were to find out the pure lengths the boys went to trying to stop Elias from going on a date with you. They would all be dead, especially now as your mom adored the love you held for your boyfriend. So it left you with the perfect thing to keep over the boys heads and now was the time that you were cashing it in.
Elias’ sigh brought you back to reality as he squeezed your shoulder “you ever think about him being our third?” His voice was barely over a mumble as he tapped your thigh motioning you to sit on his lap as he sat on your seat.
You forced your thighs together as you thought about it “he’s your teammate E.” You sighed as you shook your head.
Whilst you two had agreed on being open to the idea of a threesome, there was never someone you could find for the two of you. Brock was a logical option as you were both comfortable with him and that was easy to combine with the feelings he clearly had for you.
The boy smiled as he tucked your hair behind your ear “would you do it if he wasn’t?” The Swede pressed soft kisses against the skin of your neck “you know I only want you my love.” You groaned as you tried to get out of his grip “you know that you didn’t answer my question.” Elias squeezed the skin at your hips as he made you squeal.
He loved teasing you like that “I would want him to be our third then.” As you nodded it seemed the universe was set to taunt you as a knock came at the door “Elias you ready bro!” Brock complained as the Swede hadn’t responded to his messages.
Elias laughed as he saw your eyes go wide “yeah y/n is just finishing up.” You weren’t just finishing up, you weren’t even dressed yet “leave her she’s too slow!” You let out a scoff as you sat up “you asshole I’m not deaf!” It was now Brocks turn to laugh as Elias kissed your lips.
His hands were warm on your cheeks “see you later.” He mumbled pecking your lips before he left your room with you running your finger over your lips where his mouth left your smiling.
The draft came and went and before you knew it you were stood with Brock teasing him about what the boys had done “and you thought that Elias was in charge of me.” You laughed as you shook your head leaving Brock confused as he looked at you “is he not?” The blonde looked over you as Quinn and Elias were talking in the distance but the Swede was clearly more focused on the conversation that you were having.
Your lips formed a pout as you turned to see what he was talking about “you wanna know why you were drafted last?” You trailed off finally leaving him to gasp as he nodded figuring out what it was that you had done “well I think Elias over there wanted you to think he was listening to you.” Brocks words made you frown.
What you didn’t know was that as the American motioned to you to come closer to him your boyfriend was making his way over to you both “was told about how bratty you have been all week.” His rough voice made your cheeks turn red.
The pieces of the puzzle quickly found themselves connecting in your brain as your jaw went slack “was not.” You tried to protest as your hands formed fists “don’t lie to him älskling.” Elias clicked his tongue as he shook his head.
You didn’t know where you were meant to look “if I’m so bratty what are you gonna do about it.” You crossed your arms as you smirked thinking that you had beaten him “absolutely nothing.” Elias’ words made your face drop “but Brock here instead will make sure you are given exactly what you deserve.” He mumbled as he kissed the shell of your ear.
It was customary that Elias was physical with you yet Brock felt his mind run wild as he watched you both “he is?” Your thighs pressed together in an attempt to suppress the feelings you felt “only if you want me to.” Brock was quick to shake his head as he placed his hand on yours.
All of the worries that were once in your brain about Brock being a threesome partner for you two seemed to dissipate as you smiled merely sending him a nod. Elias was quick to kiss your head as he dug into his pocket and pulled out your key card before he slotted it into your hand.
You furrowed your eyebrows as Brock laughed “you want to be a good girl and go wait upstairs for us?” Elias tucked your hair behind your ear as they watched the gears turn in your mind “how do you want her?” As the question came to Brock it all but totally knocked the wind from his sails.
The way your eyes scanned his face brought him back to being that nervous boy who couldn’t talk to you without stumbling on his words “‘s up to you Brocky.” You smiled running your fingers over his shirt “on your bed.” The American sounded unsure of himself when he stood there trying to pick up on Elias’ body language.
Elias watched another player walk past you all “what do you want her in?” The Swede whispered to his teammate making the boys cheeks turn red “nothing.” Brock imagined it as his eyes practically undressed you themselves “älskling you hear him?” Elias turned his attention back to you as you nodded.
The boy pecked your lips as he smiled “you go upstairs and we will be there in a few minutes.” It should have been embarrassing the way you sped through there as you headed to the elevator. The teammates couldn’t help but laugh as they watched you send them one final glance before you were off “you sure you’re cool with this?” Brock knew that it was Elias who brought it up to him but the Swede was known for being possessive of you, and rightfully so.
You stared at your reflection in your mirror as you were in nothing but your underwear and heels “you getting cold feet?” You could hear them from outside the door as it reminded you that you were meant to be getting ready for them.
As you reached back to unclip your bra the door opened leaving you looking like a deer in headlights “älskling I had such high hopes for you tonight.” Elias sighed as he clicked his tongue “I’m sorry I-” you were cut off as he kissed your lips.
Brock stared in awe as you were in a black matching set with your black heels “you were meant to be in nothing.” Elias ran his finger over your bra strap “I know but.” You tried to protest but it was clearly no use with the boys “how do we punish her?” The Swede’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
Having all that power it made Brock almost go mad “want her on the bed.” You listened as you sat down and looked at the duo “put your head on the pillows.” Brock motioned to you to shift back as you nodded.
Elias went and sat on the chair that sat to the left of the bed “remember he’s in charge älskling.” The Swede did just enough to remind you that he was still there “god you don’t know how much I’ve been thinking about this.” Brock confessed as he dropped his knees to the bed.
His hands were rough around your ankles as he undid your heels “you have me now.” You whimper as he pushed your legs apart letting him get a full view of your covered soaked cunt “Petey said you been thinking about this?” Brock teased you as he kissed your thighs making sure that each had its fair share of attention before he made any effort to move closer to your core.
All you could do was nod as you bit your lip “wanted it so bad.” Again Elias knew you loved him, but you each had people you that you guys classified as your free cards that you could find attractive and admit it. His were mainly celebrities in the form of models or actresses, yours just so happened to be his teammate who was right in front of you.
Brock smirked as he blew air on your cunt as your body shook “shouldn’t make you wait then?” He joked as you nodded “lift those legs of yours f’me then.” Brock watched your hips push to the air.
He hooked his fingers into your waistband as he slid your panties over your legs before he let them drop to the floor “god.” The American felt his jaw drop as he heard Elias laugh “she’s a pretty fucking girl ain’t she?” The Swede smirked as he had a similar reaction when he first went down on you.
Your cheeks grew warm as you turned your attention to Elias “think you need to get a move on before she keeps on looking at me.” Your boyfriend taunted his teammate “you really are just a needy girl aren’t ya?” Brock let his hand lay flat as he hit your cunt.
You jumped at the feeling as your head turned back to him “Petey she’s fucking soaked.” Brock groaned as he ran his fingers over your clit “she tastes even better.” Elias going down on you and he was going to let Brock know how responsive you were “loves tugging at your hair when you get her at the right spot.” His words made you writhe as you brought your hands to your chest.
The American decided that he wasn’t going to wait any longer as he finally dropped his head between your thighs “fuck!” You groaned feeling his lips latch onto your clit “how good is he baby?” Elias didn’t often refer to you with English pet names but as you sat there all you could do was moan as you turned to see him watching intently from beside you both.
Brock slowed himself down as he found his pace when he slotted his fingers into your cunt. They were arched in an effort to go closer to your g-spot “don’t stop.” You pleaded as you grew used to how different Brock was.
You had Elias who was always pushing you to your limits but he did it by edging you and Brock, on the other hand, was treating you like his last meal as he didn’t know when he’d get this chance with you again. Moans escaped from between your lips as they mixed with your innocent gasps. All of it seemed to only encourage Brock further as he looked up to see you staring at him.
As your cunt clenched around his fingers you felt your legs begin to give out “shift up baby.” Elias’ tone was soft as he towered over you “gonna make me come.” You announced as you pushed your chest up using your grip on Brocks golden locks to help you as his groan sent shivers through your body.
Before you were thrown back against Elias who let your head rest against his lap. The boys looked between each other as Brock looked for the direction he was meant to go with. Yet when Elias shook his head it was you who complained “someone needs to learn that brats don’t get to come.” He squeezed your cheeks between his fingers as you let your lips form a pout.
Brock let his lips leave your clit with a pop “want to start apologising then pretty girl?” Your eyes were hazy as you clearly didn’t have a lot more brain power left in you “he asked you a question.” Elias mumbled as he pinched your nipples over the fabric of your lacy bra.
Your mind was blocked as his fingers rolled your sensitive bud between them “please.” You begged feeling Brock circle his thumb over your clit “think you can do better than that pretty girl.” Brock smiled as he shook his head.
Elias pulled your bra down by its straps letting his hands grip at your tits “want to come so bad.” You whimpered “so so bad.” Tears filled your waterline as your body shook.
The boys laughter taunted you “gonna be a good girl and make a mess f’me then?” Brock asked as you nodded repeatedly “want to be the best girl for you.” The words made both of their cocks strain against their shorts “let go for me then sweet girl.” As the words left the Americans lips he dropped his mouth back to your cunt as he thrusted his fingers into core.
Elias had a different idea as he pinched your jaw forcing you to stare at him “stick your tongue out.” His tone was soft but you knew he was being serious. So all you could do as nod as you listened “such a pretty little slut.” Elias grumbled watching your tongue roll out of your mouth.
Brock took the chance to look up as he watched saliva drop from his teammates mouth and into your own “fuck!” The American groaned as he watched the Swede smirk “keep it in your mouth until he lets you come.” Elias teased your nipples as he punched and tugged at the sensitive buds.
You moaned as your body began to shake “yes sir.” Even as your words were muffled it still went straight to their cocks. Brock continued to lap at your cunt until your thighs wrapped around his head “Brock you’ve got her fucking obsessed with you.” Elias watched the sight in front of him as he was in awe.
It finally came when your cunt burst letting waves of pleasure coarse through your body “look so fucking good like this älskling.” You couldn’t help but clench around Brocks fingers as Elias watched you swallow his spit “let the girl breathe Brock.” The Swede teased as he watched his teammate continue to finger you.
Brock looked up with an apologetic look as he pulled his fingers from your cunt “sorry.” He mumbled letting his lips leave your slit with a pop “c’mere Brocky.” You smiled as you motioned your finger in his direction as you sat up straight.
The look of your orgasm glistening on his chin made you feel wet all over again “think you should thank him for that.” Elias’ words were met with a nod as you took the first move to kiss Brock. The American was quick to melt to your touch as he swore he was dreaming.
Elias clearly had a similar opinion as him as he watched you both with a smile on his face “now you know the deal Boeser.” His voice made you pull away from the American as you turned to your boyfriend with a confused expression “only get her mouth.” Brock reiterated his words making you squirm in the process.
You knew it was stupid but even after all of this time you still adored the fact that Elias craved a certain level of ownership over you. You were his girl, and that was never going to change “this pussy is mine.” Elias smiled as he cupped your cunt making you almost fall into Brocks arms.
The boys were quick to reposition themselves as Elias stood over the bed and Brock was crouched over on his knees “hey pretty girl.” Brock cooed as he ran his fingers over your jaw “hi.” You smiled letting Elias grip at your hips from behind you.
The air that encapsulated the room was tense as Elias dragged his cock through your slit as he watched his precum mix with your wetness. It was like torture to the both of you “still such a needy girl even after her first one.” Brock teased looking like a school boy as he smirked “just loves being fucked like the cock hungry slut that she is.” Elias clicked his tongue as he pushed the head of his cock not your cunt.
He let out a hiss as your walls began to stretch to accommodate his size “don’t be afraid Brock you can fuck her mouth.” The Swede let his cock fully slide into you as he stopped for a moment when he bottomed you out.
The American was quick to fiddle with his belt as he began to pull his pants down letting his cock hit his pelvis “be a good girl and open wide.” He ordered as Elias took the chance to begin fucking you, quickly forcing your mouth open as your jaw grew slack.
Brock took his chance to slide his cock into your mouth as he moaned “ain’t she a good little girl?” Elias let out a grunt as you clenched around his cock at the compliment.
Your tongue swirled around Brocks cock when the boy gripped his hands around your hair forcing it into a makeshift ponytail “you’re such a lucky dude god.” Brock was beyond jealous as you looked up at him through your batted eyelashes.
Elias got the chance to have you everyday and he was no stranger in letting the American know that you were always waiting for him. It Elias had a big game then you would be on your knees in one of his favourite lingeries “you hear that älskling?” Elias taunted as he watched your ass bounce with each thrust that he sent into you.
All you could do was let out a muffled moan as you nodded “he thinks you’re fucking perfect.” Skin slapping against each other echoed on the walls was you didn’t know which side you should have been focusing on “she’s a heavenly from this side too.” It was clear that as Elias picked up the pace of thrusts he wanted to remind his teammate that he was only here because Elias let him be.
Brock nodded as he swore that you hollowing your cheeks out was going to be enough to make him come on the spot “made by the fucking gods.” Both boys hummed in agreement as Elias sent his fingers to your clit sending long moan from your lips.
You felt Brock’s grip around your roots tighten as he tugged at your hair “gonna make me come if you keep making those noises.” The American warned as you felt your cunt clench at the thought of his release.
It seemed that Elias wasn’t too far behind you either as he felt his cock throb “want to be a good girl and taste his come before I make a mess in your pretty pussy?” His accent was accentuated by the last phrases as you began to nod bobbing your head almost nonstop.
The American took it as his green light “don’t stop god.” He gritted out as he body stumbled as his release coated the walls of your mouth practically sucking the life from Brock as he rode out his orgasm “fuck!” The boy groaned sliding his cock out of your mouth before he replaced it with his thumb that collected any of his release that had seeped from between your lips before depositing it back into your mouth.
Your tongue swirled around his finger “you keep squeezing my cock like that and I’m gonna end up with a fucking baby inside of you.” Elias warned as he was painfully close “wanna milk your cock.” You got the words out before you went back to sucking his teammates thumb “do it älskling.” It wasn’t often that he would just let you come like this and you weren’t going to let this opportunity pass you by.
It was quick that your eyes began to roll back into your head as a flurry of incoherent whimpers came from your lips “keep hugging my cock like that.” As his fingers strummer against your clit like it was a guitars strings the coil that built up in your stomach snapped.
Causing your arms to shake as your body grew unstable “fucking so good.” Elias grunted as he finally came letting your release mix with his whilst his cock continued to help you ride through your orgasm. The air in the room came tumbling down as your lips lost Brocks thumb letting a string of your saliva break from your lips as it followed him. And if you were fully cognitive you would have sworn you saw his eyes sparkle as he watched it.
Elias let his cock slide out of your throbbing cunt as he kept his hand around your waist to stop you from collapsing onto the bed “how you feeling älskling?” His voice was soft as he kissed your temple “so good.” Your blasé state made him laugh as he set you on the bed softly.
Brock was fascinated by his friends softer expressions as the boys truly never thought that aftercare would be something that Elias would be so good at “bath, shower or bed?” The three options were all you usually wanted after sex and all of them always had Elias in them “bath.” You nodded reaching for the blanket that was next to you as your skin craved warmth.
It was the way that you and Elias worked so well together that served as a dagger to Brocks heart. He knew you weren’t his but it was having to see you with someone else that suddenly got all too much for him “I should head out.” Brock announced as he reached to pull up his boxers.
A frown found its way onto your lips as you nodded trying to understand his choice “you were good.” Your compliment made a smile form on his lips “you were too pretty girl.” Brock kissed your head as he watched Elias scoop you into his arms “see you tomorrow dude.” The boys sent a look of goodbye to each other and whilst Brock went out your door Elias carried you into the bathroom.
He scanned your face to see if anything was up as you stayed silent “what’s going on in there?” Elias asked as he kissed your cheek “thank you for letting me do that.” You mumbled as your fingers gripped the blanket now craving a warm bath instead.
It made Elias smile as you enjoyed your night “maybe it doesn’t have to be the last time?” He proposed as you nodded, oh if only he knew just how wrong he’d be.
The last few weeks had your heart feeling hurt. When you came back to Vancouver Brock promised that things wouldn’t be weird but after three weeks of him totally avoiding you and trying his best to avoid any activities beyond training and games with Elias. You both began to see how the American was drifting.
Thankfully Quinn didn’t come to any conclusions as he finally thought that Elias had enough of Brock’s long looks in your direction. Elias did his best to help you not feel guilty about what happened as you blamed yourself for him losing his friend. Yet eventually you both came to terms with the fact that there was nothing either of you could do about the radio silence from Brock beyond simply waiting.
It was a cold day in Vancouver as rain had been pouring the entire morning “I’ll be back in a bit!” You called out as you had been looped into a Pilates class with some of the other wags “have fun älskling.” Elias smiled as he pecked your lips before he went back to his phone enjoying the fact that the boys were having a late practice today.
You did your normal routine as you walked down to your car but before you got the chance to unlock your door your phone started going off “what the.” Your eyes went wide seeing Brocks contact appear on your screen.
Before you let the chance pass by you, you answered the call “Brock what the hell has been-” you went to lecture him but was cut off as his grunt echoed in your ear “fuck y/n.” He groaned as he looked down to where his hand wrapped his cock when he picked up his pace.
Silence filled your mouth as you were almost shocked at what was going on “keep thinking back to that day and I wish it was your pussy I fucked instead of your mouth.” Your leggings stuck to your skin as you forced your thighs together almost surprised that he was even admitting this to you.
The sound of his hand hitting his skin was barely audible in the speaker but you still knew what he was doing “god Petey doesn’t deserve you.” You felt dirty feeling so turned on by Brocks actions as you stared at your keychain that had the little E on it.
But before you could say anything more the line went dead leaving you with a decision you knew you shouldn’t be making.
Do you want to send this message to ‘The WAGS 23/24’?
you: hey girls I can’t make it today, something came up.
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so i've been keeping up with TMP as it's airing, which has been fun, it's actually really nice to experience this kind of story weekly since i came into TMA late and listened up to the s4 finale in like, a month or two. i've been enjoying the new characters and statements, and while i was worried i'd have trouble actively listening (my attention span/executive functioning can be really variable when it comes to podcasts), it's been surprisingly easy for me to actually listen to each new ep the day it drops publicly
all this to say im enjoying the show! but i've found myself feeling increasingly frustrated with a couple things i keep seeing when it comes to discussions of it
to me, it seems... there's been a pervasive reluctance to take TMP as what it is. and i do understand that. it'd be stupid to pretend TMP doesn't exist exclusively because of TMA and that show's success, that it's a successor that was pitched as being similar. it's a story being written by the same people (plus guests), in the same universe (roughly), going for about the same tone and maybe themes.
i just feel like it's a bit of a shame, though, that so many folks seem unwilling not to carry TMA with them when they're engaging with TMP
i don't know where or when it was said, but i swear there was a comment made by jonny and/or alex about how TMP will have some commonality with TMA in terms of world-building, but also, people who listened to TMA first may find themselves theorizing in the wrong direction because we're judging things based off what is no longer concrete, reliable information; things are going to work differently in the world of TMP, and since we have preconceived notions on what is relevant or how things work, that's going to influence how we engage with information presented in TMP if we let it. and that's not even considering the fact that they've been explicit in conveying the idea that TMP was written so you can experience it fully without having listened to any of TMA at all!
i'm very much someone who tries to engage with media on its own terms, largely taking things at face value until i'm given reason to suspect otherwise. that's something i'm trying my best to still do with TMP, even though obviously, i've also listened to TMA and am basing some of my thoughts and personal theories on what we know from that
but that's what i mean to say i guess, it's something you have to actively choose to do. and it feels like, just based on what i've been seeing in fandom spaces, that a lot of people are having a bit of an odd time with TMP because of a reluctance to do that?
i think the easiest way to explain what i mean is to point to a general acceptance, already on the level of fanon it seems, to interpret the computer voices as Our Jon and Martin (+ Jonah/Elias, maybe). now obviously we have the actual real world reason why their voices are present in TMP, because of course jonny and alex were going to come back as voices in the show in some way. and i 100% agree it's a perfectly logical conclusion to then interpret their inclusion as being related to Jon and Martin somehow. i'm personally very into the theory that it is in no way them - not in any way that matters - but specifically their voices that have been stolen (by the Web?) as a means to help spread fears in other realities. but that's really not how i've been seeing people play with the concept? it seems largely 1:1. and again, i totally understand where people are coming from with that - especially when you consider how it can be a super fun concept for horror and angst, or even just the fact that folks want an excuse to carry their favorite characters into this new show and still play around with them. i promise i don't mean to bring this up as a means of making anyone feel bad or like, chastised for interpreting things a certain way and playing in the space!
it's the biggest example of what i mean though, and was a huge point of frustration for me when we were first being presented with TMP. it's not just that i don't want the voices to be Jon and Martin proper (i am very into their Ambiguous End, i believe it's best to leave that as a space for fans to play in); in all honesty, i think it's kind of a shame and maybe even a bit boring (im sorry!) to be engaging with TMP this way
and it's not just stuff like that - i've been seeing a fair amount of people expressing frustration and feeling disappointed with how TMP is hitting, but i mean, i feel like that's inevitable when you're going into it expecting More TMA? i saw at least one person basically say "ive been waiting for it to make me feel the way TMA made me feel, and it hasn't yet", and i really just feel like that's setting yourself up to be dissatisfied! beyond the fact that we're only 5 episodes in and the story has barely gotten a chance to happen yet, a huge element of this new show is that it's being approached as a largely collaborative effort, it seems, with lots of guests coming in to help shape the story and more writing and plotting influence that isn't jonny
obviously it's fine to not be super into that! undoubtedly it's a question of taste. but you do have to acknowledge that that's the case and adjust your expectations accordingly, or else you're not going to have a great time
i really like TMA, i had a great time with it, but even if TMP is a sequel to its parent podcast, it's not the same thing - and personally, i don't want it to be! i do hope that's a sentiment that is able to be more widely felt by some fans as we gain more distance from TMA while TMP is airing. i just think more people would be able to enjoy it that way, and come up with more interesting theories and interpretations of things! but those are really just my own personal thoughts
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OMG "A Ring is Merely Jewelry and Marriage a Contract" is an absolute masterpiece!!! You're so talented it hurts! I'm really in love.
What do you think about part 2? We really need more whipped daemon and his snarky wife😭 more protective Havoc😭 more caraxes who's absolutely in love with the reader and she's just as in love with him petting and cooing over him while daemon stands next to her in disbelief like 'what about me? why does my dragon get all the love I was meant to receive from my wife??'
Fire & Havoc
Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader
Summary: If marital bliss meant engaging in tomfoolery and murderous intent, then you were knee deep in it with your beloved Targaryen prince.
Word Count: 2k+
Warnings: Fem!Reader, a vague mention of Daemon touching himself, arranged/forced marriage, wife!reader, daemon is absolutely smitten, enemies to lovers, fluff, typos, etc.
A/N: ur so blessed that i love this fic so much and actually had plans i did not get to write when writing it so here you go nonnie, ur one of the few who's been able to convince me to make a part 2. lol i realized what i did may be quite different to what you were expecting, so i do hope you still enjoy <3
So yeah, as mentioned in by the anon, this is a part two of this fic. I dont think you would need to read it to understand, but i highly suggest you do though
I'm tagging the people who commented that they wanted to read more in the first part so hiii! @aralezinspace @em-the-lurker @blue1006 @mukduk-not-murder @min-jianhyung @deniixlovezelda T_T I hope they all
work
Part 3 "Frost Bite"
I whistle at Havoc and call her out her name. She leans away, snarling, her bared teeth was laced with saliva. It dribbles on the guard beneath her, whose pulse was undoubtedly echoing in her ears.
"Down," I command, knitting my brows at the angry, large canine.
Havoc retreats, growls not at all dampening as she comes to over to me. I give the wolf a pointed look when she reaches my stool and grab her snout, raising a finger, "what did I just tell you?"
Havoc immediately deflates, ears flattening as she sits before me.
Elias, who has she had been training with, props himself on his elbows and wipes his face, before ultimately standing, "it is a wonder that she listens to you at all, princess."
I turn to the man as he catches his breath, then to his fellow Gold Cloaks, just as my handmaiden, Belidea, walks over to me with a tray of breakfast.
I pull away from Havoc the very moment she whines at the smell of my food. I shift on my stool and I give her side eye. She licks her snout as she wipes her faces.
Clever, but her puppy dog eyes not to work on me.
When she nudges her nose on my leg, I push her away after I take a bite of my sausage, "no. You've already eaten, you glutton."
Havoc, even if she did understand, did not care to listen to my words and propped her head on my thigh, causing me to raise my tray overhead. I click my tongue at her and hiss, "Havoc. Away with you."
The Gold Cloaks watching chuckle at the sight of the animal that was ferocious mere moments ago and now begging by my side.
Havoc, whose large head usually towered over me when I was sat down, was impossibly low on my thigh. Her eyes are locked on my tray, and if she well wanted to steal it from me, she could have. But she was my puppy after all, and so she begged.
I shake my head at her and sigh. I whistle, and immediately she sits up in an alert stance.
I rise from my seat and hand Belidea back my tray as I get the sausage. Havoc licks her lips as she sees the meat in hand.
I point a finger at her and command, "stay."
Havoc's head tilts as I draw the sausage near her and yet repeat my command, "stay."
"A cruel game, don't you think?"
I pull away slowly from Havoc then turn to my shoulder, watching as Daemon walks over to me, armor covered in blood. I raise my brows at him, "it's not a game. I'm teaching her to obey my command."
He walks beside me, and Havoc licks her snout when he sees him.
"Stay," I command yet again, snapping my finger, "focus on me, Havoc."
Daemon chuckles, leaning close to me, "it seems your pup quite likes me better now."
I hum, "she would quite like to devour you in your current state, make no mistake."
After saying this, I throw the sausage off to the side and Havoc merely turns to it, still in her spot. I smile at her, "good," then nod, "go get it, girl."
Not a single moment is wasted and Havoc lunges on the small piece of meat and chops it down with no difficulty whatsoever.
I take this as an opportunity to turn to the prince who was peering down at me, "why are you covered in blood?"
Havoc is quickly behind me, licking my fingers. I turn down to her and tell her to stop just as Daemon responds, "I rolled in your bedsheets, wife."
I look back at him with a dark look, but he only returns it with a smirk. He sighs, "yet another cycle of yours passes and our marriage still has not been consummated."
I feel anger rise up my throat, "I'm sure the women you see during your nightly escapades suffice, do they not, husband?"
Havoc does not allow the prince to respond as she walks over to him and licks the blood on his attire. Havoc was not fully grown yet, but the top of her head was nearly as high as mine, and so you can imagine why Daemon did not find it in him to annoy me any further.
I snort as Havoc pushes me aside to lick Daemon's chest all the way up to his neck.
He speaks in High Valyrian, commanding her like his dragon, but it obviously does not work.
I chuckle as Daemon fumbles back and raises his hands, "down, girl."
Much to my surprise, Havoc actually listens. I waited for him to make the mistake of not further asserting his dominance, but he does not. He straightens himself up and peers down at her, "sit."
Havoc sits at once and I chuckle in disbelief, "consider me faintly impressed."
"I have merely taken advantage of the all encompassing scent her master has," he attempts to take my hand but I pull away from him before he even gets close.
"You will not touch me until you tell me whose blood is on you."
Daemon's eyes crinkle, "and so I shall touch you after?" He steps forward, "wherever I may prefer-"
"You may attempt to touch wherever," I narrow my eyes at him.
His lips curve at my harsh tone then releases a chuckle, "elk."
"Elk?" I repeat in slight disbelief.
"Yes," he hums, "I thought Havoc and Caraxes could eat together."
My lips press together tightly.
"And perhaps if my wife is so disgusted by the blood on me, she shall join me in my bath and lend me a hand."
I step closer to him and tilt my head, "you already have two to keep yourself company."
"But it's not quite the same is it?"
I roll my eyes as I turn to Havoc and whistle, "come along then. You should continue with your game with the Gold Cloaks."
Daemon watches as I instruct Havoc for a moment before heading to his bath. His expression was soft, juxtaposing the horrible sight of blood and dirt covering him. If anyone saw his expression, they'd believe he was in love.
After our training session, I head back to my chambers, debating if I should like to take a bath myself. Daemon should be done by now anyway.
I walk into our room, finding my husband was nowhere in the area. But then my stomach drops. I hear rapid splashing sounds and my name being gutturally called out in the bathroom. In my haste, I burst into the room and heave, finding Daemon in the tub, stroking his-
"Fuck," he whines quickening his pace, making my face contort as I turn away and storm out.
It doesn't take long for me to hear what I would have rather not. Daemon releases a long whine and my entire body burns in embarrassment.
He is hard of breathing when he calls out, "take it as a compliment, wife."
I release a scoff as I hear him come out of the water. I turn to him when he walks up to me but regret it when I see that he is fully naked. I avert my eyes and shake my head, "you are truly vile."
"You will learn to burn for me as I do you, pretty girl," Daemon heaves as he walks over to me, leaving a trail of water behind him, "I will require you to give me an heir eventually, as you will I."
When draws closer as he mutters, "Belidea tells me you swoon over every babe you set your eyes upon. I shall give you your own if only you-"
I shove him away when he reaches for me.
He chuckles as he reels back. He raises his hands then gestures, "then will you hand me the towel behind you?"
I scowl at him and turn quickly behind me, seeing the towel hanging on the chair. I grunt as I grab it and throw it to him, making him chuckle yet again.
"You are so fiery, yet as timid as a child," he says as he wipes himself down.
"And you are simply a child," I blurt, making my way to the closet to grab his clothing, "look at the absolute mess you've made."
I walk over to Daemon and shove the clothes into his arms, "why should I have a child with when you're already one?"
The corner of Daemon's lips curve, "are you mothering me, my love?"
I roll my eyes, "fuck off," I say as I trail over to our bed, "quickly make yourself decent, there is a matter I must discuss with you."
"I doubt I need be decent to discuss something."
"Then allow me to rephrase it: I require you to be decent to before I discuss anything with you," I say as I sit on the side of the bed and busy myself by looking at my nails.
Daemon chuckles, "kill joy."
"I could do more than kill your joy, my love," I mock.
His amusement intensifies and I hear him shuffle with his clothing, "that's the spirit."
After a few moments, I steal a look to my side and find that he has put on his breeches and was already making his way towards me. He jumps onto the bed, throwing his tunic aimlessly on the mattress and stretches, resting his hand behind his head.
I turn from him over my shoulder, disgusted, and grab the towel, roughly rubbing his soaking hair with it before he further wet the pillows.
"Alright," he grabs my wrist chuckling, "if you continue with your mothering, the maids will begin to gossip."
I pull away from him as I shift to look at his stupid face and bare chest, "I'm travelling to the North next week."
All the amusement in his face vanishes.
I keep my silence for a moment, taking in how his jaw clenches.
"Well," he raises his brows, "is it to escape me or because your father died?"
I let out a dry chuckle, curling my hand into a fist at the mention of my father, "neither."
Daemon's expression softens, "neither, hmm?"
My face sours, "because I know I cannot escape you, Prince Daemon."
"Very good," his lips curve.
"Havoc is beginning her heat cycle," I straighten up, "you do recall when she attacked those men w-"
"I do not blame her," Daemon sighs, relaxing, "those sorry fucks came to her abode to gawk at her. Serves them right."
"Daemon," I roll my eyes, "I am sure her aggression excites you, but at the end of the day I am her master, and you will not be so amused when she attacks you."
He licks his lips upon hearing that, and suddenly strokes my spine with the back of his hand. I pull away from him and furrow my brows, but the smile on his lips only grows, "how exciting to know that not only did you run into my bath marked with worry and concern, but that you also do not want your pup to harm me."
Before I could crush his delusion, he jumps off the bed and grabs his shirt, "now do not spoil my glorious mood," he then grabs my arm, "come, we must feed our beasts if they are to be as amicable as we are."
I pull away from him, but he does not allow me. He makes sure to trap my wrist in a hand even when he puts his arms through his sleeves.
At the very least I am glad he loosens his grip a bit as we make our way to the dragon pit.
It seems we caught them just in time. Havoc was being lead by her keeper, one from the North who she knew, and barks, rushing towards me the moment she senses me.
Daemon watches at the large thing lowers herself for me.
Just then, the whines of Caraxes rips through the air. I am agitated momentarily for the sake of my worf, but Havoc is no longer alarmed by his cries and in fact even shifts to a playful stance at the sight of the dragon. I relax as I stroke her in an attempt to calm her down
"Heel, girl," Daemon commands, walking over to Caraxes, "you do not want to play with a hungry dragon."
"Heel," I repeat, making Havoc straighten up and whine.
We all meet each other in the middle, Caraxes, lead by his keeper, greets us with his screech. Havoc, beside me, responds with a howl, and I cannot help but chuckle at them.
Daemon strokes Caraxes as he bends his head down, but when the dragon pushes him to the side, and heads for me, he is left speechless. Caraxes huffs out hotly as he brings his snout close enough for me to reach.
The unexpected gesture makes my heart jump to my throat. I listen in to for Havoc's growls, but hear nothing but dragon sighs and Havoc's pacing paws. I place my hands on Caraxes, pushing him back a bit when he forces too close that I nearly fall. I give Havoc a look and chuckle in disbelief when I see her nuzzle against the dragon.
"Incredible," I mutter in astonishment, turning to Daemon.
Daemon says something in High Valyrian, and I hear the keeper laugh at it.
I do not enjoy the stunned look on the prince's face and I begin to grow agitated. It doesn't take long it to disappear though. I roll my eyes at him when he says, "you have bewitched my dragon into treason."
"You ever think that maybe the only reason why Caraxes hangs around you is because he has to?"
All at once, we are both ignored as the two great beasts avert their attention to the food served to them. Caraxes is given an elk and a half, and Havoc is given the remaining part.
The dragon keeper draws near to me and speaks in High Valyrian. I look at him and nod slowly though I do not understand.
"He said it is not uncommon for dragons to be temperate to their rider's mates," Daemon says, pressing close to me, "just as I suspect the same thing for Havoc."
I eye him as he looks on to the feeding beasts, "just because I tolerate you does not mean I consider you my mate."
He responds to me in High Valyrian and I roll my eyes at him, turning away. Daemon does not know I can see his stupid smile from my peripherals as he looks down on me.
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