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nebulousbrainsoup · 1 year

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business attire

PAIRING: fashion designer/director!kim hongjoong x assistant!reader GENRE: smut with feelings, lil bit of fluff TAGS/WARNINGS: non idol au, neutral pronouns used for reader, reader wears a dress (but in true joong fashion clothes have no gender), balmain!joong AND strawberry!joong, mentions of anxiety, hongjoong is a simp, pov shifts a lil, ash's questionable editing; lmk if you find anything else! WORD COUNT: 4.5k A/N: so, we were trying to figure out when the outlaw red hair concept photos may have been taken and sky might've mentioned that the cut looks like what he had before the european leg of tour and paris and balmain and... things escalated. tagging my enablers: @hwaightme @jaehunnyy @justhere4kpop

nsfw tags under the cut ; masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

NSFW TAGS/WARNINGS: language, they're both switches, reader has female anatomy, mildly public sex (locked conference room), brief dom/sub undertones, sex with your boss is kind of its own form of power play, mentions of punishment, use of pet/nicknames (babe, Balmain Boy, sweetheart, love), hair pulling, marking, joong is possessive, dirty talk, lil bit of degradation, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it homies), piv, finger sucking/fingers as a gag, creampie; lmk what i missed

You were so late. It wasn’t like you in the slightest, so you were hoping against hope that your boss would let it slide this once, but… fifteen minutes behind and counting for the monthly investors’ meeting was certainly pushing your luck and probably his patience. You wish you could say it was entirely not your fault, but you were the one who had both forgotten to set your alarm last night and postponed laundry long enough that, when you spilled your coffee down the front of you this morning, you were left with only two options; either your pyjamas, or the unreleased piece currently hanging on the back of your door, reserved for S(e)oul Monde’s summer release show next week. The wave of anxiety over Hongjoong’s reaction took an extra five minutes to tamp down, and by the time you’d finally figured out the clasps and sashes—having been reminded why models had dressers—you had five minutes to get out the door if you were going to catch your train. You managed it, if barely, yanking on your boots and snagging your workbag from by the door, barely stopping to lock it behind you.

And, of course, you’d made it into the station in time to watch the damned thing pull away. Of all the days for it to be actually on time, of course it was today. Fantastic. The bus had been the only option, and between the walk back up to the street and the distance between the nearest stop and S(e)oul Monde headquarters… You’d known this would be the outcome. It didn’t stop you from trying to close as much of the gap in time as possible, though. The moment you were seated, leg bouncing feverishly, you’d sent a message to your boss, apologizing and letting him know you were on your way.

You’d known it would go unread, but that didn’t stop the irritation that bubbled up at the sight as the bus pulled into your stop. Flying through the doors and up the stairs as quickly as you could, you gave tight smiles and murmured apologies to the coworkers you nearly trampled in your rush to the elevator. The disgruntled sounds of its occupants and those waiting echoed as you wormed your way in, a quick, scathing glare around quietling them as you pressed the button for the tenth floor. With only two stops between you and your destination, you were slipping into the conference room seventeen minutes behind schedule, tablet clutched to your chest as all eyes turned from the man speaking to the door. You immediately dropped into a ninety degree bow, apologizing profusely as you shuffled toward your seat, dropping your bag into it and taking your place.

Hongjoong, like everyone else in the room, had looked at you the moment you entered the room, but unlike the investors, he couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from you. His surroundings faded to a blur as you made your way to stand next to him, the breath having been knocked from his lungs. The dress was perfect, exactly as he knew it would be—a little short for a traditional office, certainly; he’d seen a few eyebrows raise at your entrance—and on you, of all people, it looked immaculate, like it had been designed specifically with you in mind. Which, well…

Every artist has a muse. Hongjoong wouldn’t be apologizing, especially not when you looked that good in his work.

It was your voice that pulled Hongjoong out of his stupor.

“I’m sorry for my lateness and the interruption, sir. Please, continue.”

He snapped back into himself, blinking rapidly and offering you a soft smile. “Right.”

When he had finished with his presentation and you both sat back down, Hongjoong at the head of the table and you to his left, you finally let yourself relax. The way he’d stared you down over the tops of his glasses as you made your whirlwind entrance hadn’t slipped past your notice, leaving anxiety coiling in your gut, alongside something entirely more exciting. It was no secret to either you or your boss that you each found the other wildly attractive, and the combination of his intense gaze on you earlier and the way he looked today had memories flashing through your mind that were entirely inappropriate for the workplace. He always dressed up a bit more for these meetings, but today, he’d really gone above and beyond. The custom, black velvet Balmain suit he wore made his freshly dyed red hair look even brighter, and it took a stunning amount of self-control to keep from leaning over and taking the chain connecting his lip ring to one of his many earrings between your teeth. All in good time, you supposed, if the way he was looking at you earlier was any indication. Sure enough, as he slid his chair under the conference table, a warm hand settled on your knee, and the chill of the various rings adorning it nearly made you jump. Feeling you twitch, Hongjoong peeled his eyes from the man speaking to flash you a slightly worried glance. You returned it with a slight smile and a nearly imperceptible nod, earning a quick squeeze to your leg. The touch had your shoulders relaxing further, a silent sigh passing your lips—he wasn’t mad at you. Wearing the dress had been a gamble, and if the intensity in his gaze hadn’t been anger, then it was something not entirely different but far more fun. You smiled to yourself as you turned back to face the man speaking once more. All of that anxiety, for nothing.

Or, maybe not, because the second your eyes left the woman who had, at this point, been speaking for fifteen minutes straight, running an increasingly frustrated Hongjoong in circles, you felt his grip tighten. Your jaw twitched, and you carefully brought your gaze back to hers, feigning interest to the best of your ability as his fingers danced lightly up the inside of your thigh.

“Y/N, could you run Ms. Lim through the timeline one more time, please,” he sighed, a tight smile on his face.

“Of course,” you agreed with a similar look, only slightly less obvious in your annoyance, once again flipping your tablet open. Clicking through a few things, you cast your sceen to the TV on the wall and stood, making your way to stand beside it. Hongjoong’s eyes followed you the whole way, eyes wandering over the bits of skin his work left deliciously exposed. He couldn’t wait to kiss his way up your thighs, to tug the sashes criss-crossing over your back free and run his hands across the plane of it, to sink his teeth into the curve of your shoulder and make you look that much more his. You once again caught his narrowed gaze over the invisible frames of his glasses, a smirk tugging at his lips that nearly had you weak in the knees. You knew that look all too well; it was both a threat and a promise.

Maintaining an air of complete professionalism with Hongjoong staring at you like he was ready to devour you was a feat you’d be thanking some god or another for later, but right now, you simply bowed and took your seat once more as you finished your quick presentation and returned to your place next to your boss, standing over his shoulder rather than taking your seat.

“If something is still unclear, feel free to send me an email, but we are a bit over time and Mr. Kim has another appointment over his lunch,” you stated with a polite smile, pointedly ignoring the confused look Hongjoong momentarily shot you. “I think it would be best if we wrapped up for the day, in interest of everyone’s time.”

God, he could kiss you. He would kiss you, he decided; he’d kiss you breathless the moment he got you alone for this.

Ms. Lim pursed her lips, but the look in your eyes left no room for argument. After all, who knew the S(e)oul Monde director’s schedule better than his assistant? She nodded, pushing her chair back, and the rest of your restless company followed. “I certainly will.”

“As always, thank you all for your continued support of S(e)oul Monde, and I hope my work continues to exceed your lofty expectations,” Hongjoong offered as he stood. “Thank you for your time. I hope to see you all at our showcase next week.”

The men and women in the room murmured their own parting pleasantries, phones returning to hands and bluetooths returning to ears as they filed into the hall, leaving you and your boss alone. Only a beat of silence passed before he turned to you, heat burning behind his eyes as they flicked over you hungrily.

“Lock the door and close the blinds.” Your low-burning nerves and arousal were both lit ablaze again at his direction, and you stuttered. He raised an eyebrow, tongue darting out to toy with the lip ring you so desperately wanted a taste of. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

The warning snapped you out of your stupor in a moment, and you paused only to set your tablet on the table before rushing to comply. His gaze was warm on the back of your neck as you moved through the room, first clicking the lock shut, then moving to drop the shades on the frosted windows that faced the hall, and finally crossing the room to do the same with the exterior windows. When you reached for the controls, Hongjoong clicked his tongue disapprovingly, the noise pinning you in place.

“Leave those. Look at me, Y/N.”

Swallowing thickly, you did as you were told, chin held high. “Yes?”

“You were late this morning,” he commented off-handedly as he stood, and you dropped your eyes to the floor.

“I’m sorry, everything just—” you started, only to be cut off.

“Was this little number,” he gestured to the dress, using the chance to give you another once-over, “the reason?”

“Part of it, but—”

This time, it wasn’t his words that cut you off, but his lips as he lifted your chin and dragged you into a kiss that told you exactly how long he'd been waiting to do this. You squeaked in surprise and quickly melted into him, one hand clutching at the asymmetrical neckline of his suit tightly as the other grasped at the base of his skull in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer. With a sigh, your lips parted against his, tongue darting out to finally get a taste of the brand new jewelry you'd been eyeing the entire meeting. The metallic tang pulled a pleased hum from you as you took it between your teeth, shifting to catch more of his lip than the jewelry itself as you pulled away.

“This is so not business attire, babe,” he breathed against your lips, and you laughed quietly into his mouth as he captured them again.

“Are you telling me I can’t—mm—wear your designs to the office?” You teased between kisses, finally pressing him away from you.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes heartily, his own half-smile giving away the feigned nature of his annoyance. “Not all of them, no,” he sighed, hands coming to rest over your ass, pulling you into him and groping at it lightly. “You know better than that. And one that isn’t even released yet?” He clicked his tongue again. “I was going to forgive you for being late since you look this good, but maybe I should punish you after all.”

You frowned, pulling away from him slightly as your earlier anxiety washed over you again, and Hongjoong wanted nothing more than to take his words back. “It… This was the only thing I had clean, I spilled coffee on myself this morning and I—”

“Y/N, it’s okay, I promise,” he soothed, shifting closer to you and squeezing at your hips in a way he hoped was reassuring. “If it weren’t, I could’ve asked you to change. It’s not like we don’t have clothes in every size you could ever need.”

“That’s… true,” you muttered, tugging your lower lip between your teeth.

Hongjoong hummed in distaste of the action, reaching up with one hand to pull the skin free and immediately planting a chaste kiss where his thumb had just been. “You just look… too good,” he murmured, grip on you tightening. “This may be my best work yet.” It was your turn to roll your eyes, scoffing as you tried and failed to push him away from you. “And yours may be getting me out of that meeting.”

“How do you know you don’t have an appointment over lunch?” You grinned, ever unable to pass up a chance to tease him. “I know you haven’t checked your schedule since this morning and—mmph!”

For the second time in the past five minutes, he cut you off with a heated kiss. “Oh, I know I have a lunch appointment,” he shot back, spinning you and guiding you backward until your hips hit the edge of the table. “And we both know it’s with you. Up,” he directed, tapping your thigh twice.

With a little hop and loose guidance from Hongjoong’s hands, you boosted yourself up onto the edge of the table, your boss following behind quickly to spread your knees with his own body. He couldn’t get enough of your lips today, it seemed, wrapping one arm around your waist as the other came to rest on the surface behind you, forcing an arch into your back. You let out a pleased hum against him, reaching up to card a hand up over his scalp and give his hair a light tug. The action pulled a groan from his lips as he leaned back into the contact, and when his eyes blinked back open, the predatory look he pinned you with sent electricity coursing through your veins.

You met his fire with a burning challenge of your own, tugging harsher on your fistful of red and grinning wickedly as a throaty groan left the man’s mouth. “You,” he hissed, grabbing ahold of your wrist and tugging it free from its home, “drive me fucking insane.”

“Ditto, Balmain Boy,” you shot back, and you reveled for a moment in the shine of the smirk on his face, before it disappeared into the crook of your neck.

Little pleased sounds fell freely from your mouth as his worked its way down your throat, kissing and nipping at the skin, never enough to mark—although, you knew if you let him, Hongjoong would jump at the opportunity, jealous as he was—and he closed his eyes, basking in every single one. The hand around your waist shifted to splay out against your back, the warmth of his palm in contrast to the cool metal of his rings making you shiver again, and you felt him grinning against your skin for a beat before sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You choked back a sharp cry at the sudden action, grasping at his velvet suit.

“Hongjoong,” you hissed in warning, the last syllable coming out whinier than you would have liked. In your regular attire, anything below the neck was fair game for him to mar as he pleased. But between the safety pins holding together the strap on the side he was currently working over and the mesh of the other, you were working with far less coverage than usual. He let out a low noise akin to a growl at your protest, pulling a choked-off yelp from you, before soothing over the angry skin with his tongue.

“Joong,” you tried again, and this time let it be a whimper. “Careful.”

“Who cares,” he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to the blooming mark before letting his lips trail across the collar of your dress. “Let them know.”

You squirmed, a quiet whine leaving you as heat struck through you at his words. “We… we can’t,” you protested weakly.

Hongjoong let out a low, dark giggle. “You don’t sound sure, sweetheart. You want people to know you’re fucking your boss?” Another whine, this one more frustrated than the last. “Nasty,” he chastised, but you could hear the grin in his voice. He got off on the thought more than you did, the possessive shit.

Straightening up, he pressed one more quick kiss to your lips before just as abruptly dropping to his knees in front of you. The action made you wince—not for the man in front of you, but for the pants he was wearing. You carded a hand into his hair again as you groaned in protest, tugging on it to force him to look up at you. “You’re gonna wear out the knees on th—”

“Worth it,” he shrugged, fingers immediately sliding under the hem of your skirt, kneading at your thighs. The moment they found the hem of your underwear, his hands slid smoothly from the outside of them in, fingertips dancing teasingly over your clothed core. He smiled up at you as you squirmed under his attention, the expression spreading to his signature smirk as he pressed harder and pulled a low moan from you.

“Get on with it, we don’t have all day,” you breathed, tugging lightly on his hair again. The sight of his eyes rolling back in his head—an exaggeration, sure, but you wouldn’t be complaining—sent heat rushing to your core again, the muscles in your thighs twitching as they tried to close around Hongjoong’s hands.

The look he gave you was one you immediately wanted to wipe off of his face. “We do if you’ll clear my schedule,” he quipped back, earning a harsher yank to his hair, this time in the direction of your body.

“Put your mouth to better use, Kim Hongjoong.”

The second the words left your mouth, his fingers were hooking into the waistband of your underwear, and you lifted your hips off the table. In one fluid motion, he’d tugged the fabric free from your legs and left your skirt bunched around your waist, exposing you to his increasingly hungry gaze. Tossing his glasses onto the table beside you and throwing your legs over his shoulders, he pressed kisses up the inside of one of your thighs, breath barely ghosting over your center as he switched to the other. Annoyed, you tried to pull him where you wanted him, earning a breathy little laugh for your efforts.

“Ask nicely, babe,” he muttered, pausing his work just long enough to properly look up at you.

His dick twitched in his pants at the sight. You stared down at him with half-lidded, pleading eyes and parted lips, lust clouding over your face. The neckline of your dress was still askew from where he’d pulled it aside, the skirt hiked up and now balled in your hand to give you a better view of him. And just as his eyes drifted lower, landing on your glistening heat, you breathed out a quiet, breathless, “Please.”

Who was he to deny his muse when they looked so breathtaking?

A weak, weak man. Weak for you, for everything you gave him and everything you let him take from you. Weak for the way you looked in his designs, in your own clothes, in a burlap sack, probably. Weak for the way you looked commanding the office—the whole operation would fall apart without you, and if Hongjoong were being honest with himself, he’d go with it. Weak for the way you tasted—your lips, your skin, your cunt; he’d drown in you if you would let him.

And now, mere minutes after you’d saved him from the most boring meeting of his life; a few short hours after you’d strutted into the office in the piece he’d made for you, he was going to try whether you let him or not.

Biting back your moans while he ate you out like a starved man was a feat you didn’t think possible until you achieved it, muffling all but the quietest little whimpers and gasps as your orgasm coiled in your core. The closer you got, the harder it became, and the hand in Hongjoong’s hair left it in favor of clamping over your mouth. He growled against you in protest, the sensation making your thighs twitch, and wrapped his lips around your clit. With a few harsh sucks and practiced flicks of his tongue, you were clamping down around him, muffling the squeaks of pleasure he so desperately wished to hear.

You tugged him up off of the ground and he was weak for you, so of course he followed, palms hitting the table on either side of you as your lips crashed against his. When you pulled away again, he could only hope—fruitlessly—that you didn’t hear the way he whined.

Smiling softly, you tugged him in again briefly, gracing his lips with a chaste kiss before breathing a quiet “Fuck me,” against them.

Hongjoong was so, unbelievably, undeniably weak for you. Weak for the way you felt pressed up against him, the way he knew you would feel around him—and with that thought, he was scrambling to unfasten his pants, suddenly desperate and so, so weak. He hadn’t noticed how constricting the fabric had become until you shoved his pants and boxers down to his knees in one go, the release of pressure pulling a low moan from him.

Reaching between your bodies, you wrapped your fingers around his length, delighting in the way it twitched in your hand at the same time his breath hitched. He shifted forward, bracing his hands further behind you and crowding into your personal space, slowly guiding you back down onto the table. You stroked him slowly for as long as you could reach, until finally, with a whine of protest, he pressed your shoulder back against the wood. Bracing himself with an arm beside you, he leaned down to catch your lips in a heated kiss, his free hand busying itself with lining his cock up at your entrance. His tip brushed your folds once, twice, before he pushed into you in one fluid thrust, hips falling flush with your own.

The feeling of him filling you and the sound of the breathy moan that left Hongjoong had your walls fluttering around him, and the pause he took was as much for himself as it was for you, you could tell. So, you gave him his moment, taking the opportunity to drink in his form above you. He looked as desperate as you felt, so before he’d opened his eyes, you rolled your hips, pride swelling in your chest as his eyes shot open and he cursed under his breath.

“You’re not the only one who doesn’t like repeating themself. Fuck. Me,” you demanded, punctuating it with another grind of your hips against his.

His gaze darkened, and electric arousal warmed your body. You saw him fight for words for a split second and quickly give up, electing instead to drape your knees over his arms and start fucking into you at a brutal pace. The suddenness punched a small yelp out of you at first, and you clapped a hand over your mouth, turning to look anywhere but at the man grinning devilishly down at you. He clicked his tongue and the rough grip he had on one of your thighs disappeared, his hand shifting instead to your chin. You were nearly folded in half as he reached for you, and the shift in angle had his length dragging over all the right places.

Securing your face between his fingers, he yanked you back toward him, forcing eye contact as he pounded into you. “Watch me, sweetheart. Watch me make you come undone again. I want you to remember this.” His rough handling had dislodged your hand from your mouth, and as a drawn out keen began to bubble up from your throat, he shoved two fingers past your lips to silence you.

Some combination of the intimacy of looking into his eyes and the way he knew your body so well—shifting and adjusting until your legs were shaking—had your high building rapidly, and your teeth closed lightly around his knuckles as you felt the coil tightening in your gut. He tilted his head at you, a weak grin gracing his sweat-coated face as you sucked at the digits, pulling a breathy sigh from him.

“Close?” he uttered, and you nodded rapidly, one hand snaking between your bodies to rub tight circles over your clit. “Cum with me then, love.”

Whether it was the pet name or his permission that sent you over the edge, you weren’t quite sure, but just like that, the tension lacing your body snapped, and you clamped down around his cock. Hongjoong did his best to fuck you through it, quickly toppling from his own height and pressing his hips flush you yours as he spilled into you.

When you had both caught your breath, he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss and lowering your hips back onto the table. You whined as he slipped out of you, pouting at the low chuckle your reaction received. Before he could walk away to search aimlessly for paper towels or a tissue box you knew weren’t there, you kicked him lightly and pointed to your workbag. “Tissues in there.”

“Mind reader,” he hummed, a lilt of faux annoyance in his tone.

“‘S why you hired me, Joongie.”

Another quiet laugh and a private smile graced your eyes and ears as he cleaned you both up, tucked himself back into his pants and handed you back your underwear.

Most days, this was it—he’d be waiting by the door to make a clean exit and you’d see each other when you finally made it back to your desk. So today, when you finished dressing yourself and found him still staring at you, you turned your eyes to the ground bashfully. “Don’t you have work to do?”

Most days, he’d quip back something along the lines of “I don’t know, do I?” Today, he tilted his head at you and smiled.

“That piece was made for you. I think I should work that way more often.”

With another quick kiss to your lips and one to your cheek, he left the room, and you with it, heat rising to your cheeks. “And maybe I should wear ‘not business attire’ more often.”

You weren’t sure what had just happened, exactly, or why, or how serious he was about the dress being made for you—but one thing was certain; you were as weak for Kim Hongjoong as he was for you.

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#cromernet #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong x you #hongjoong smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x y/n #kim hongjoong x you #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #ateez #ateez fanfic #atz #atz hongjoong #neb.atz #nebulous writes

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heroinnne · 1 month

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you and miguel ended on really bad terms

it’s not that he was a bad boyfriend or anything — well, he kind of was, he just wasn’t that bad, he was loving, sure, sweet at times, brought you gifts whenever he could, introduced you to some of his friends but, he had a really bad habit of prioritizing work above anything else.

work was always at the top for miguel, it was practically his entire life — he spent most of his hours either at his alchemax or at his office at your shared apartment, writing reports and whatnot.

that, of course, resulted with him spending less time with you.

over the span of the two years you dated him in, no matter how many times you chided and scolded him about it, he never changed his habit and when you finally at your peak, you blew up at him.

and after a really, really bad fight, things ended on really, really bad term.

it took you a while to get over him, but after some time and some wine, you finally did.

so now, why is he at the same bar as you, beating up a guy that was feeling you up?

you’re standing there, stunned with your drink in your hand watching the scene unfold before you, watching as miguel beats the absolute crap out of that perv’s face.

eventually, some people crowd up against them, and manage to separate miguel off of the guy, by that time, you’ve drawn yourself out of the bar.

unfortunately ( fortunately ) miguel manages to catch up to you.

he calls out your name and it stops you and you turn around to focus on him and he catches up to you.

his hand finds its way to your waist, and a concerned frown is etched on his face, “are you okay?”

you clear your throat, a slight blush on your face from the contact, “yeah.”

miguel notices his hand is at a place it shouldn’t be, and he quickly retract it — it’s not like he could’ve helped it though, given the fact that the two of you were ex-lovers, it was a force of habit.

a beat passes and he clears his throat. he asks, “are you sure?”

you try for a smile and nod your head, “i’m sure.”

another beat passes in silence, the both of you staring at each other, taking in each other’s appearance — you in a short red dress, with your hair and make up done, maybe you were he for a date, miguel thinks.

fuck, he’s missed you so much.

sure, it’s been six month since the break up, but miguel never really got over you.

he knew he fucked up big time when that fight happened, that fight that ended everything, miguel knew he was at fault yet he failed to admit that at the time.

maybe now he’s ready.

just when you turn and are about to leave, he grabs your arm, muttering a soft, “i’m sorry.”

your breath hitches, “come again?” you heard what he said, you just weren’t sure if you heard it right.

“i’m sorry.” he says again, his voice cleared this time, “for everything. for everything i’ve done. i’m sorry.”

and he means it, he misses you so bad and he’s matured enough now to suck up and admit his mistakes.

“i’m sorry for not giving you enough of my time, i’m sorry for putting work above you, i shouldn’t have done that and i know that i really fucked up.” he admits.

your heart is beating against your chest at his sincere words and apology, you know he’s being truthful with you right now.

“i miss you.” he admits, his voice soft.

a slight smile stretches at your lips, because against your bitter will, you missed him too.

“i miss you too.” and at your words, a smile finds its way to miguel’s lips.

“and i accept your apology.” you add.

he chuckles, and his heart is beating out of his chest with joy, “so we good?”

“yeah,” you smile at him, “i’ll give you a call sometime?"

#heroinnne writes #kinda don't like this #marvel #marvel headcanons #atsv drabble #atsv headcanons #atsv x reader #marvel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara drabbles #miguel 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #spider man 2099 x reader

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saphirered · 7 months

Note

for the prompts list - cinnamon sweet with Lucien please and thank you :)

Here you go! Loads of fluff and Lucien being Lucien so I hope you like it! 😘

It’s that time of the year Lucien would love to forget all together. The leaves have turned and fallen, the harvests have passed and all is in a slow state of decay. To think he once lived in a perpetual state of autumn seems a different life altogether, and one he would prefer to keep dead and buried. He’s really grown to hate autumn with a passion and he truly can’t wait until winter comes creeping in. At least frozen wastes haunting shadows bring more comfort than what he endured. Yet here you are, wrapped in your knits, wrapped him in them too, excited for the yellows and reds and oranges, the smell of autumn at its peak, the fresh harvests and festivals that accompany it. Here you are loving everything he’s avoided for so long. He doesn’t have the heart to tell you. If anything he hopes that perhaps through you he can endure and grow to like the season again and not feel like he slips into depression every time he spirals into those dark memories. It’s not your fault and he doesn’t want to spoil your fun. Maybe you can teach him how to love the autumn glow once more.

“Remind me again why you insist in being here, outside in the cold when we could be warm and cozy inside by the hearth instead?” Lucien asks when you sit him down on the wooden bench in the garden. The majority has wilted, or been prepared to endure the coming winter, and while somewhat eery it is still beautiful in its own way. The wind blows the remaining leaves from the trees bit by bit casting a blanket upon the ground making it impossible to distinguish path from grass and unmarked flowerbeds. You hold two ceramic mugs in your hands when you take a seat next to him. Though your proximity does not quite transfer heat, he still feels warmer with you there.

“Because, my dear Lucien, I want you to experience this properly.” He raises a questioning eyebrow but you are persistent and push the mugs into his hands. Completely at a loss of what to do with them he holds them. The contents seem to be milk. Just milk. He expected something like a tea maybe but the mugs are cold.

“What now?” He asks when you look at him as if he’s supposed to know what to do now.

“I need you to heat them up.” You chirp excitedly. A soft smile graces his lips but quickly turns cocky as it often does.

“Glad to know you keep me around as your personal heater and servant. Shall it be steaming, boiling or evaporated, my dearest?” You cross your arms. Normally he would flick your nose playfully when you puff but he’s half sure you’ll kill him if he drops this mug so he refrains and instead pecks your nose and does as he’s told. Your crossed arms slack and the flush to your cheeks certainly isn’t because of the cold air.

“You have plenty of other uses too.” You tease back reaching for the box you’d brought. He’s not entirely sure how you managed to carry this all. You open the box and inside reveals two chocolate orbs. “I know you like hot chocolate but this one’s special.” You gently drop the orbs in the steaming hot milk each. Slowly but surely the chocolate begins to melt and inside, fluffy little clouds emerge floating on the surface. Lucien looks confused.

“Dare I ask what this poison is you’re trying to feed me?”

“They’re marshmallows. They happen to go very well with hot chocolate but there’s one more secret ingredient-“ You reach into your pocket and take the vial you’d stolen from the pantry.

“Unconditional love and affection?” Lucien interrupts but you don’t miss a beat.

“-two more secret ingredients.” You correct yourself at his quip much to his amusement. You remove the lid from the vial of brown powder. Carefully you sprinkle a modest amount on top. When you do he catches on. Cinnamon. Curious.

“So you are trying to cover the smell and taste of poison.” You take one of the mugs from him and clasp it between your hands, cold fingers instantly warming. You scoff and roll your eyes.

“While poison is poetic I think a dagger through the heart after a passionate night is far more.” You deadpan taking a sip. Lucien shrugs in agreement.

“A satisfying end to be sure.” You snort and cough as your nose burns. The amusement in Lucien’s eyes is replaced by concern until you assure him you’re alright. “I think you might have mixed up the poisoned mug, love.” He pats your back as you recover and when you do he simply rubs circles allowing his hand to warm you and offer some relief.

“One way to find out.” Your voice is still hoarse but you’re alright and take another sip of your drink. Finally he takes his first sip. Closely you study his reaction. First it is intrigue; the way he does a double-take, then a hint of confusion trying to figure out his senses. Next comes consideration. A raised eyebrow as he takes a second sip. Then his shoulders relax and he leans back on the bench. He nods to himself and takes another big sip when he notices you staring.

“I take it you like it then?” You ask gingerly. He smiles and nods.

“It reminds me of you so yes.”

“How so?”

“You remind me of sweet things and cinnamon.” The flush to your cheeks darken. Cute. Of course he has to ruin the moment. Can’t let it get to your head. “You taste like it too.” This time you’re prepared though, unfazed you take another sip, rise to your feet and take a few steps away from him. You look over your shoulder, look him straight in the eye in a way that dares him to move. He knows he’s in trouble.

“Let’s keep it a special treat then. Wouldn’t want you to get sick of the taste.” Now it’s his time to choke on the sip he took. Not what he was expecting, and certainly not the sultry expression on your face as you sway your hips through the invisible garden path and back to the porch, one there you take one last sip, looking at him over the edge of your mug. You step inside leaving the door open behind you. Lucien does not need to be told twice. He downs the cinnamon hot chocolate, the taste lingering on his tongue and follows your tracks inside.

#acotar x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien x reader #acotar #acotar lucien #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction #lucien acotar #sjm fic #a court of thorns and roses

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oumaheroes · 10 months

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I miss the UK bros, how are they doing this time of day? Getting into trouble? Fighting? Getting absolutely pissed drunk and singing as they walk home? Fighting? How are my boys?

~Izzy

I'm very glad you asked 😌

This fic also relates way back to that poll I had, wherein I asked people who they wanted to see Wales written with in a small fic. The answer was a brother, so I chose North!

Characters: Wales, Northern Ireland, UK Bros referenced

Warnings for graphic details of butchery

------------------------------

Art Show

‘So, do you think I should ask them?’

‘I think they’ll be offended if you don’t.’

‘Yeah, but should I.’

Wales looked up from the dead sheep he was laying out on the old fashioned stone table and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, ‘Do what you want, love. It’s your art show.’

‘Yeah but that’s you saying that there’s still a right answer.’ Leant against the rough outside brick of the barn nearby, North spun his mobile between his forefinger and thumb, the screen a dark mirror catching the sun.

With a far brighter flash of light, Wales picked up his boning knife from its spot on the table and wiped the back of it on his overalls. North eyed it, then the dead sheep, and ignored the urge to head back inside.

‘There’s not a right answer,’ Wales said slowly, ‘I’m just telling you that they will be upset if you don’t invite us.’

‘You’re invited.’

‘If you don’t invite all of us.’ Wales gave him a pointed look, conveying to him the need to honour a long-held understanding (long, at least, to North’s lifetime) that there were certain things that must be done As A Family. To exclude one or more of them from one of these unspoken events was a sure-fire way to surface old grudges North didn’t even want to try to understand. Annoyingly, most of these events involved himself.

‘I think it will be nice.’ Wales offered to the silence. ‘You and your friends’ work all hung up in a proper gallery, a chance to walk around your college. We could even go for dinner afterwards. Like...’

Wales stopped himself, maybe hearing the impossible wish in his words that made North feel embarrassed and hungry for it at the same time. Silently, Wales twisted the sheep to the position he wanted it and then, in one practised movement, slit the whole thing from throat to groin. North gagged and turned away.

Wales clucked at him in concern, gaze still focused on the sheep and the knife, ‘Are you alright?’

North didn’t trust himself to speak. He clamped his jaw tightly shut, turning back to focus on the green hills beyond the farm over Wales’ shoulder, and gave him a thumbs up.

‘It’s nice of you to watch but you really don’t have to.’

North had offered to help him, actually. Wales was very kind to omit that.

‘Alisdair will think it’s pointless.’ North continued thickly, watching Wales skin the sheep in a few quick, strong tugs, his shoulders tightening and broadening under his baggy shirt before softening away again.

‘Oh, he can piss off. He just doesn’t know what to do with himself in a place like that.’

‘He thinks me being in college at all is stupid.’

‘He’s a hypocrite. He’s had human friends before. And more human lives than I can count.’

‘He might not even come.’

‘He will.’

That’s what North was actually worried about. He knew all of them would turn up if he asked them to, they had for everything else. School plays when he was much younger, football and rugby games, sessions in parliament- there was always one of them present in all of his early achievements. Older now though, it felt strange. North didn’t know what was worse, Scotland grumbling and picking fault in the entire thing and North’s enjoyment of it, or maybe Patrick finding it all amusing. Like a hobby or passing fancy North had picked up, rather than anything to be taken seriously. It was only an end of year art show, for a module he took only because some of his friends had chosen it, but he’d found that he’d liked it. He’d worked hard on his final piece and wanted that to be recognised.

The idea of them all together, in a place he had chosen and cultivated separately for himself, felt too much like a clashing of two worlds that he was averse to see coming together. With their different accents and odd turns of phrase, they were a hard thing to normalise and explain away even if they did behave themselves.

Wales waved his knife towards the smaller building that bordered the barn, ‘I’ve left the slop bucket behind. Fetch it for me?’

‘I don’t know why you have to do this yourself.’ North called behind him as he jogged over to the door, ‘It’d be easier to take them to the butchers when they need to go.’

‘It’s important to do things yourself sometimes,’ Wales said simply when he returned. He dropped some gory looking shapes into the bucket, and they hit the bottom with a wet smack. The meaty smell of them made North feel sick, ‘You forget things if you don’t practise- easy to take the new alternatives for granted. And it always tastes better when you’re part of the process, more like how I remember.’

Wales looked at him and then back to the sheep, ‘Don’t leave anything to waste, if you can help it. This’ll make a lovely mutton stew; keep me going for days.’

North stared into the bucket warily, not feeling very hungry at all.

‘I‘d enjoy myself if I went.’ Wales said, his hand back somewhere North couldn’t look at for too long, ‘I really want to go, and I know they would do too, if they knew about it. We’ve never had many chances to enjoy small things like this for what they are.’

North toed the grass, feeling uncomfortable, ‘I suppose I could ask Alisdair when we go to the gig next week. See what he says and then tell Arthur and Patrick.’

Wales gave him a wide smile. Something inside the sheep cracked, ‘I think that’s a wonderful way to do it.’

‘You can't take any pictures though.’

Wales’ smile dropped, ‘Why?’

‘All of my friends will be there; no one else will be doing it.’

‘Of course they will.’

‘Not as many as you do.’

Wales rolled his eyes, ‘How about the small camera? My “digi-cam”- I can take that?’

‘No one uses those anymore.’

Wales pulled a face, ‘I’m sure they do. I only got that a few years ago.’

‘It was at least 15.’

Wales shrugged, unbothered, and dropped a few more horrible looking things into the slop bucket, ‘My camera phone then.’ Then, when North made a noise- ‘and I’ll only ask for one posed one.’

‘Fine.’

#aph wales #hws wales #aph northern ireland #hws northern ireland #hws british isles #aph brit bros #aph uk bros #hetalia #aph #hws #heroes writes

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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 10 months

Text

𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑳𝑬𝑺𝑺 𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 ║ Chapter 9 - And If I’m Dead To You, Why Are You at the Wake?

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 8.8k | CHAPTER WARNINGS: passive sewer slide ideation, allusions to sewer slide intentions, mental health is in the gutter, angst, trauma trauma trauma, ineffective coping mechanisms, moments of gaslight gatekeep girlboss, men are stupid and inferior

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: Joel tries to earn back your trust, and he hopes learning more about your past from Tommy will help him. Your fractured relationship means you aren’t open to his help, and he is no longer privy to your comings and goings. Joel has to decide how long that will remain the case after he learns a troubling detail about your recent activities in town.

║ＰＲＥＶＩＯＵＳ ║⋄── •✧• ──⋄║ ＮＥＸＴ ║

✧⋄⋆•✧⋄⋄⋆⋅⋆✧•✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆•⋆⋄── •✧• ──⋄⋆•⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧•✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧•⋆⋄ ✧ "𝙸 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞; 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝." ─ Sʏʟᴠɪᴀ Pʟᴀᴛʜ ✧⋄⋆•✧⋄⋄⋆⋅⋆✧•✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆•⋆⋄── •✧• ──⋄⋆•⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧•✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧•⋆⋄ ✧

Joel had a headache that wouldn’t ease up, but he begrudgingly accepted Tommy’s invitation to meet up at the Tipsy Bison. A few glasses of whiskey later didn’t resolve his headache, but he sure felt better. After the two chat about how Maria’s pregnancy is going as well as one could hope, how Ellie has adopted her hybrid schooling routine full tilt, and how much longer the build is going to take, the topic turns to you.

“Told you to just trust her man,” Tommy snarks, clapping a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “She takes care of the people here. Never missed the mark once. Not once. Maria knew she had somethin’ valuable in that head of hers. S’why she elected to bring her in. Sure as shit helped me get on my feet when I first got here.”

Joel couldn’t pass up the chance to see if he could weasel some information about your past out of Tommy. He steadied himself so he could play this as apathetic as possible. The last thing he needed was for Tommy to catch on that there were issues between the two of you that were entirely Joel’s fault. It was a risk he was willing to take, though, if it meant he had an opportunity to learn more about who you were and where you came from. Maybe he could learn something that would help him figure out a way to get you to talk to him again.

“Yeah, she seems popular with the locals,” Joel drawls. “Ellie’s taken to her real quick, that’s for sure.”

He takes a sip of whiskey and swirls the remaining amber liquid in his tumbler. He’d taken to you quickly, too, but he wasn’t going to tell Tommy that. Joel fidgeted in his seat when Tommy didn't say anything.

“So what’s her story anyway? Never heard how she ‘n Maria end up crossin’ paths.”

He looked up and regretted it almost instantly when he catches Tommy’s nostrils flaring as he tries to suppress a nettlesome smirk.

“Shut up and answer the question, jackass,” Joel snips.

Tommy laughs goodnaturedly and decides he won’t torture his brother just yet about what’s got him so hot under the collar when it comes to you.

“Well, from how it’s been told to me, a patrol group came across her and got her cornered, but she gave ‘em the slip. Clever thing. Nobody was really expectin’ it from her. Thought she was a kid at first, bein’ so small. She was even smaller than she is now, ya know? Worse for wear. Survivin’ on her own in the winter here. Nobody believed her when she said she was by herself.” Tommy shakes his head and chuckles, an acknowledgement that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

“Cornered?” Joel repeats, redirecting Tommy to the point of action in the story.

Tommy scrunches his eyebrows in understanding as he swallows his sip of whiskey. He set the glass down and turned to face Joel straight on with a ruminative expression.

“Yeah. Managed to get her between a rock ‘n a hard place. Prolly wouldn’t’a been able to even manage that without the dogs sniffin’ her out, though. She was a slippery thing. Still don’t understand how she got up the damn tree so fast,” Tommy huffs with wide eyes. Again, bewildered at the reality of your competency in conjunction with your contradictory appearance.

Joel made a noise of impatience when Tommy didn’t get back to telling the story quickly enough. Tommy cleared his throat and got back to his recounting of that fortuitous day.

There had been at least five of them on horseback. The sound of thundering gallops led you to believe it was probably more. The sound of barking dogs led you to believe you were going to be absolutely fucked if you couldn’t find cover in the next few seconds.

You were cursing to yourself at all the supplies you’d left back at camp. A knife and some climbing tools weren’t going to cover the bases for the group close on your trail. Even if you could shake the riders, the dogs would be able to follow your scent. You were going to die. After everything you’d been through and all the times you’d escaped death, you were going to be torn apart by a pack of dogs. Or worse.

You hadn’t seen anyone out here. You’d been camping in the general area for months, and you hadn’t seen a soul. You thought with the firm start of winter that you’d be even less likely to find another human out here. Stupid. Stupid, stupid mistake. All those times you fussed at Caroline for being careless and too relaxed. Now look at you. Running for your life, sizing up the few options for survival that you have. You aren’t even sure why you’re trying so hard to stay alive. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible thing to just give up and face your destiny.

You shake the defeatist thoughts from your mind. Now was not the time. You had to push through. You had to keep going. You had to find somewhere to hide. You shove the spiked palm wraps onto both of your hands. Not the optimum fit, but it was the best you could do while running full speed in the opposite direction of the group hunting you down. Your eyes darted between the options in the treeline. You settle on the widest one. You’d have to scale up the back of it so your body would be hidden from view on the other side.

The forward driving momentum of your run almost causes you to trip over yourself when you make an abrupt stop behind the tree. You slam the climbing claws into the sharp bark and scramble upwards, not stopping until you are at least 20 feet above ground. This had been your intention today, going out to scout the area from higher up. Now you were scouting out just how much time you had before the group made it to your location.

You tuck yourself between branches with dense sprays and pray it is enough to camouflage your body. You had to get yourself situated quickly because once they got close enough you wouldn’t be able to move without shaking some of the snow from the branches and giving your location away.

The cantering of the horses came to a stop several yards away. You didn’t have much of a view from your angle, but you couldn’t risk shifting around to see better. The absence of barks and yips from the dogs was ominous. As if on cue, the sound of snarling barks and snapping jaws circled beneath you and floated up to your ears. You are so tightly wound you imagine that you can feel the vibrations of their nails as some of them claw at the base of your tree.

A sharp whistle calling the attention of any surrounding people makes you jerk. “Hey, they’re signaling over here!” A deep male voice carries like building imploding into itself after the detonation button had been pressed. It radiates through you and sends chills up your spine.

More movement concentrates below you. You can hear a muted conversation carrying on, but you don’t dare look down. The tones of the voices sound like a gathering of minds sorting out and weighing opinions. Some noises that sound like disagreements. A few sound defeated.

Whatever had been discussed was over now when a voice called up to you. “YOU ALONE?”

Your stomach clenched. That was never a good sign. The first question assessing what manpower you had. You were going to die. This was it. You cling to the branches with a vice grip and don’t answer. You can hear someone else telling the first voice that “there’s nobody up there.” A few other voices seem to agree.

A new voice piped up. “She’s small enough. The dogs are saying she’s here. I agree it doesn’t seem likely, but all signs point to that.”

Ah, so that’s what the discussion had been about. Whether or not someone as small and weak looking as you could have managed such a feat. You had come to use that exact thing to your benefit. People not giving you the benefit of the doubt usually ended poorly for them. Your size didn’t have to be a disadvantage all the time. You could use it against people who were presumptuous enough to dismiss you as capable or as a real threat.

“Alright, if nobody’s up there and I’m just talking to myself then it doesn’t matter if I waste a few bullets?” the voice snapped at the others.

You somehow froze even more than you already were. Being sprayed with bullets and then falling 20 feet from a tree seemed like an excessively unique way to suffer.

“ALRIGHT. LISTEN HERE, SWEETIE. IF YOU’RE UP THERE HIDING, YOU NEED TO COME DOWN. WE AREN’T GONNA HURT YOU. THE DOGS NEED TO CLEAR YOU, AND THEN YOU’RE GOOD. IF YOU DON’T COME DOWN, I’M GONNA HAVE TO ASSUME YOU ARE INFECTED AND WON’T BE CLEARED BY THE DOGS ANYWAY,” the voice booms up to you.

Shit. Shit shit shit. Whoever this group was had enough resources to train dogs to sniff out infected? You are FUCKED. The dogs would of course clear you because you weren’t infected, but these men obviously had an established protocol outlined for encountering outsiders. The fact that they were going through this much trouble just to flush you out made your insides churn. Nothing good could come from this.

“I’M GONNA COUNT TO FIVE BEFORE I START SENDING UP SOME SHOTS. YOUR CHOICE,” the voice announced.

You hadn’t imagined this was how you were going to die, but you suppose it could always be worse.

“ONE.”

Maybe he was a really good aim and would kill you with the first round.

“TWO.”

But if he wasn’t and just grazed you, then you’d probably be injured enough to start falling.

“THREE.”

Maybe you’d be lucky and your neck would snap on something while you plummeted.

“FOUR.”

Or maybe you needed to end this on your own terms.

“FI-”

“Don’t shoot!” you yell down.

Surprised murmurs and shuffling down below. No going back now. You’d already made yourself known, so it wouldn’t hurt to get a clear view of just how insurmountable the situation was. You peek through the branches and greenery. Seven men, not five. All on horseback. All armed. Three dogs.

“ALRIGHT. I WON’T SHOOT,” the voice boomed again. You could now see it belonged to a middle aged man with a light brown, neatly trimmed beard. His gun was resting in the crook of his elbow but could be wielded again swiftly if he needed to. “BUT YOU HAVE TO COME DOWN AND LET OUR DOGS CLEAR YOU.”

You didn’t have a lot of options at this point. The thing working in your favor was the fact that most of the group hadn’t considered you past your appearance. Even now, seeing how you had managed to scale the tree and skillfully hide from view, four out of the seven still appeared untroubled by you and your clear disadvantage. It was true that you were woefully outnumbered, but you had escaped worse.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you call back down in a put-on trembling voice. You were scared, but your pride would have kept your voice level if you hadn’t purposefully altered it. You needed to play into their misconceptions about you if you were going to make it out of this alive and intact.

“YOU DON’T,” the man called up. “BUT YOU DON’T REALLY HAVE MUCH CHOICE, DO YOU?”

The prior claim of no intention to harm you wasn’t aligning with these demands being shouted at you.

“You said you weren’t going to hurt me,” you yell out with a hurt inflected tone. You keep your eyes on the self-appointed leader of the group. You see his face soften a bit. Got him.

“AS LONG AS YOU AREN’T INFECTED, WE HAVE NO REASON TO CAUSE YOU HARM,” he assures you. “ARE YOU ALONE?”

There was that loaded question again. You opt for a dramatically meek nod. You didn’t trust yourself to not vocalize your fear this time, pride be damned.

Your answer seems to stir up doubt amongst the men. A few of them exchange glances, and the rest exchange hushed words. The leader turns back to you. “LOOK, WE UNDERSTAND IF YOU’RE TRYNA KEEP SOMEBODY SAFE, SWEETIE. BUT IF OUR DOGS SNIFF THEM OUT BEFORE WE KNOW THEY’RE THERE, WE CAN’T MAKE ANY PROMISES.”

Of course they don’t believe you. Surviving on your own and in the winter of Wyoming, even if it was early on, just wasn’t feasible for someone like you. You don’t appear in good health with your sunken eyes, pale face, and bony frame. You are trying to keep your expressions in check, but something had made them come to the conclusion that you belonged to a group you were now trying to protect.

You’d just have to use that for your benefit as well, then. Let it be a distracting piece of the puzzle for them. Throw them off. Use their judgment against them.

“I’m scared!” you half-sob. The tremble in your voice is real. You are scared.

But your fear doesn’t outweigh your burning determination to get out of this situation.

You see most of the men’s faces give away the fact that they have some tinge of guilt for making you feel scared. You had dangled that bait to see what they would do with the plight of a frightened young female who by all appearances was alone and in need of assistance. Their reaction to such a thing would tell you plenty. Excitement at your fear would’ve indicated many a nefarious possibility. Their reaction of almost compassion was dumbfounding but unequivocally preferable.

“SWEETIE, YOU GOTTA COME DOWN. I’M GONNA KEEP MY FIREARM READY, BUT I DON’T HAVE IT POINTED AT YOU. LOOK RIGHT NOW AND YOU CAN SEE I’M TELLIN’ YOU THE TRUTH,” the leader said.

You took the opportunity to get a clear bird’s eye view of everyone’s locations and tactical preparations. The leader was the only one who had his gun at the ready. Some of the others had even slung theirs on their backs and only held reins in their hands now. You needed to fully commit to the fragile, scared girl act to get them as complacent as possible.

“Do you promise?” you fake cry.

“SWEETIE, COME ON. COME DOWN. I’LL HAVE THE DOGS SIT BEHIND US UNTIL YOU’RE FULLY ON THE GROUND, ALRIGHT?” he offers.

Perfect. Dogs out of the way. One single firearm ready. You slide downward a few branches, making sure to appear clumsy and shaky. “I’m s-s-sorry I d-didn’t answer before,” you whimper. “I’m just–just really s-scared.”

A few of the men look away to ease their conscience. Maybe they were good men who truly did feel for you and didn’t wish to cause you any harm. Or maybe they were just new to whatever fucked up endeavor they were planning and hadn’t learned to commit to shirking whatever humanity they had left in them. Either way, you were quickly gaining the upper hand right under their noses. You stop on a branch roughly ten feet off the ground. You feign exhaustion from the physical exertion and know your appearance will sell it.

“C-Can somebody h-help me get down the rest of t-the way?” you blubber. The adrenaline and fear and resolve all fighting for dominance within you produced real tears.

The leader nods and jerks his head towards one of the men who had been looking away in shame. PERFECT. He was a younger looking man who had a strong resemblance to the leader. Maybe it was his son? He carefully trots his horse beneath the branch you were perched on. You lock eyes with him and force several more tears to spill out before you address him.

“Please don’t hurt me,” you beg quietly with a contorted face.

“I promise, sweetie. I fuckin’ promise I’m not. Nobody is. I swear it,” he implores. He is so earnest and raw it almost makes you feel bad for what you’re about to do. You sniffle dramatically and nod before squatting down as if to ready your descent. You reach out a shaky hand, and the man fully extends both of his arms out to you. He actually seemed nice. If only you could have met these seemingly kind people under different circumstances.

You lean down slightly but keep hold of a thick branch. Just as you curve your hand around his, you push off the limb with a hard kick. The force of it pushes all your weight into the topheavy half of the man. Your jarring exit from the tree shook all the snow held on the branch as it snapped from the tree. The other horses startle at the loud crack, the downpour of snow, and the impact of the falling branch.

Your momentum combined with the targeted push against the man sends him flying off the horse. You don’t have time to fully seat yourself onto it, but you give the horse a hard kick to its hind with your leg that isn’t hooked onto the animal for dear life. You grab onto the reins so tight you feel like you’ll have rope burn on them if you manage to cheat death today.

You pay no mind to the whinnying horses, barking dogs, yelling men, and gunshots going off behind you as you make your daring escape. The horse is galloping at full speed, and you try your best to get into the saddle. You don’t have much recent experience with horses and are fully relying on your childhood days of afterschool equestrian lessons your beauty pageant mother had begged you to take. Caroline was always more of the girly pageant type, and your equestrian competitions and showcases were as close as you were gonna get to any sort of showmanship contest.

You can almost hear your mother now, cheering you on as you flee to safety. Raving over your clever deception so masterfully executed. You can imagine how your dad would be quietly smiling and standing proud over his little girl being so resourceful and brave.

You take to the river to hide the tracks and don't stop until you know you’ve lost each and every one of them. Once it was safe enough to do so, you returned to your camp. It was an exhausting and frightening encounter, but you’d gotten a horse out of it. Not a bad trade.

You stroke the muzzle and jaw of the beautiful creature. You are reminded of your horse from all those years ago. A light reddish brown horse you’d creatively named Brownie. You laugh at yourself for the predictable name. You remember how your mom had hyped you up and insisted it was the most gorgeous, perfect name for a horse. You smile at her memory.

She was a classic beauty in every sense of the term and had dedicated years of her life to the vapid world of women as spectacles, and yet she was the most down to earth, humble person you’d ever known.

She was always proud of you no matter what you chose, but she could never really hide how happy she was to see you puff up your chest a little bit and let the world bask in just how great you were. She and your father both were the picturesque, doting parents. You and Caroline never went without, even if your parents had to pinch pennies here and there and forgo things for themselves.

You wish you could’ve had more time with them. At least now they have Caroline back. All of your family except you, reunited once more. You close your eyes and try not to focus on how much you wish sometimes to join them. To just give up. Get it over with. You sigh a frustrated breath and busy yourself with camp.

Several miles away, the group tracking you had returned to Jackson. Unbeknownst to you, they had recounted the incident to Maria, who was impressed with your abilities. A meeting was called to determine if there was in fact a group nearby of which you were a member, how many there were, if any were infected, if any or all posed a threat, and if there was any indication they would attempt a raid. It was decided that a search and scout mission would be conducted after half the group decided you must be a raider, given your exhibition and trickery.

It was days into their mission before Maria and one other patrol member managed to track you down. They observed you from afar, surveying your movements for two days. Once Maria felt confident you weren’t attached to any group and truly were alone out here, she and the other member caught you off guard and captured both you and the horse without injury.

You remained tied to the stolen horse as they carted you back to Jackson. You panicked the entire way. Something about Maria told you that you weren’t going to get lucky enough to escape this time.

By the time the covering was removed from your eyes, you determined they must be slavers, salivating over their latest haul. It makes you sick to your stomach knowing you will turn a good profit for them. The man tried to engage, but you immediately began to fight.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I killed somebody trying to sell me off, you piece of shit!” you snarl, spitting in his face. You pull and tug against your restraints, but they won’t budge.

Maria intervened before it got more violent and talked to you one on one to allay any concerns you had that they intended to mistreat you in some way.

“And you’re what? The madame of this fucked up operation? You make me sick,” you growl.

“We’re not in the business of selling people,” she replies curtly.

“So what is all this then? What do you want? You could’ve just taken your horse back. You didn’t need to tie me up and bring me back here,” you argue.

“Couldn’t run the risk of you staging a breakout again before I could talk to you,” she reasons with a shrug. “Quite impressive, by the way.”

Something made you feel like she was telling the truth, but you still kept your guard up.

“And what is so important to talk to me about that you had to tie me up and drag me back to this shoebox of a room?” you demand. You narrow your eyes at her and level a challenge to think twice before lying to you.

Maria tells you about Jackson and how they were in the process of rounding up people interested in helping it get off the ground. It was a skeleton crew, and they needed capable people on board if it was going to work. At first you said you weren’t interested, but Maria insisted there was no political hierarchy once you became an established member; your loyalty didn’t need to go beyond pulling your own weight and not fucking anybody over.

You eventually agreed to join. You didn’t have any other plans anyway, and it was at least guaranteed shelter and safety in numbers. You started out as a scout for patrol as well as running supply missions. You were small enough to sneak into places or get a heads up on a site before the rest of the group entered.

You stayed on patrols, scouting, and specialty recon missions until more and more people started to join Jackson, who became your proteges and subsequently highly effective members for patrol and security. It wasn’t long before Maria convinced you to take on the role of community coordinator, and soon enough you served an essential dual role in getting Jackson on its upward trajectory.

You had always been closest to Maria, but you got along with everybody. Practically everyone ended up partial to you in some way because you were the first helping hand they took hold of once they arrived in Jackson. You had trained so many residents for patrol. You had befriended and understood the more skittish newcomers. You were the face that represented the safety of the settlement and the hope of a future it offered; it is one of the main things that would end up cementing you into the township’s hearts.

You never could have imagined this life when you were 15. You’d just had your birthday, and Caroline was plotting how she was going to have a bigger party than yours to celebrate finally becoming a teenager. She never got that party. Your parents weren’t even alive by the time you and Caroline made it to her 13th birthday. The two of you were on the run, escaping the roaming government-looking vehicles rounding people up left and right. You’d witnessed one of them offload every passenger and shoot each one point blank in the back of the head. You didn’t trust any grownups after that.

You avoided FEDRA as long as you could, but it was only a few months on the run when Caroline got sick and needed serious medical attention. You had watched your parents get ripped apart by infected when they gave up their lives to protect you both. Caroline’s shrieks of “Mommy! Mommy, run!” and “Daddy, no! PLEASE NO!!” as you hauled her to safety still rang in your ears when you closed your eyes and tried to sleep. You couldn’t bear losing Caroline. Not when there was a way to save her.

Even as you settle into your role in Jackson and try to start over yet again, you don’t know if you’ve ever once made a correct choice or if it had all just been a long line of wrong decisions on your part that only ended with you sending every person you loved to a premature death.

Joel is overwhelmed by all this new information. He mulls over his drink for a minute and digests everything Tommy just shared. You possessed the skills to survive on your own and in unforgiving weather conditions no less. You’d outsmarted and outmaneuvered an entire group of armed men on horseback. You’d turned your disadvantages into weapons. Tommy watched Joel’s face closely for any hints of something more than just platonic interest.

“Gave your guys the slip, huh?” Joel taunts, hoping Tommy isn’t suspect of anything.

“Eh, I wasn’t around yet, so it’s more like Maria’s guys let a small girl steal their horse even when they had her outnumbered 7 to 1,” Tommy laughs.

“Damn, seven?” Joel mutters, impressed. Tommy starts to shift the conversation, but Joel needed to know more.

“But what about before? I mean, where’d she pick up the skills to get the better of an entire patrol group? And it took a few days to track her down when they went back out to lookin’ for her? Where’d she come from?” Joel felt the mask of casual curiosity slip with his rapid questioning.

Tommy raised an eyebrow and grinned. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were mighty interested in gettin’ to know her better,” he gloats.

“Spends a lot of time with Ellie. And like I said, Ellie’s taken a likin’ to her,” Joel counters, trying to disguise his burning intrigue as just being a dutiful guardian. “Just wanna know who she’s hangin’ around with and what kinda person they are.”

Tommy’s grin grew wider. He didn’t believe for a minute that Joel’s motivations for asking about you were limited to Ellie’s well-being. “Of course. That makes perfect sense,” Tommy snarks.

He shot Joel a knowing look and took a sip of his drink. “Well, like I said, I came here after she had been here for, what? Maybe 4 years already?” he estimates. “She joined not too long after it had just got started up.”

Joel’s head drifted slightly to one side, signaling his brother to continue. “I mean, I ain’t ever asked her about it too much. Maria knows her better. Came from freelancin’ type work with Fireflies and whoever else. Never was officially a Firefly or anythin’ like that.”

Tommy tilted his head back as he tried to recall as much detail he could. “I think before that she had been in a QZ doin’ FEDRA stuff. Her and her sister did FEDRA school, I think. Don’t know how they ended up there or why her sister didn’t make it to Wyoming with her. Maria just said how she was really goin’ through it when they first got her to join. Guess it hadn’t been a long time since she had lost her.”

Tommy paused in thought for a moment as he considered your story. It was as if it was the first time he had really sat and thought about it all in chronological order rather than bits and pieces lumped together.

“Well, I guess that would explain why I never saw her baby brother around Jackson,” Joel mused.

“Hm? What’s what?” Tommy turned his attention back to Joel.

“First time we talked she said somethin’ about a younger sibling never listenin’ to their older ones,” Joel explains. Tommy shot him an exasperated look. “I just assumed it was a brother. She didn’t say anythin’ about them bein’ alive or dead or what. I just assumed,” Joel finishes.

Tommy shook his head and chuckled. “Always thinkin’ about me, huh? Might actually find that sweet if I didn’t know how you are.” He clapped his brother on the back way too hard and laughed louder. Joel was still intent on putting the big picture of you together and didn’t even say anything to Tommy about his boisterous, obnoxious antics.

“So, her ‘n her kid sister grew up with no parents, went to FEDRA school, worked the QZ with FEDRA, ended up branchin’ off together to do some under the radar stuff with Fireflies ‘n whoever… Then somewhere along the way it was just her solo when Maria came across her?” Joel summarizes.

Tommy’s eyebrows shot up as if they were springloaded. He was taken aback at how raptly Joel had listened and the unsatiated curiosity he had for you.

“That’s it? That’s all you know ‘bout her? There’s not somethin’ else you just aren’t rememberin’?” Joel probes.

Tommy shook his head side to side, trying to determine if it was the liquor that was making him think Joel seemed completely engrossed in you. “I was sorta jus’ givin’ you shit earlier about wantin’ to know her better. I’m kinda startin’ to think you’re actually interested. Very interested.”

Joel scoffed. “I already told you. Elli-”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re just concerned about who Ellie is hangin’ around with. Nothin’ else at all behind the wheel there,” Tommy mocks. Joel rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite meet Tommy’s gaze.

“You know, it may not have occurred to you, but you could always try bein’ friendly and askin’ her these questions yourself,” Tommy points out.

“I ain’t very chatty,” Joel snips back quickly. He didn’t care for the direction the conversation was taking.

“Seem pretty damn chatty to me when it comes to her,” Tommy counters.

“Pain in my ass,” Joel mutters under his breath before finishing his drink. “Hate to ruin your fun, but I gotta head out and check on Ellie.”

“Yeah, I guess I’d better go check on Maria,” Tommy concurs.

The two men settled their tabs and headed for the door. It was a quiet walk back, and Joel was grateful for that fact. The last thing he needed right now was Tommy sticking his nose into the situation just to see what sort of a mess he’d made of everything.

As the two men began parting ways, Tommy called out, “Hey, tell Ellie me ‘n Maria say hi.”

Joel looked back and nodded. “Alright,” he called back.

“Oh and Joel?” Tommy called out again, stopping to face his brother fully.

Joel paused to turn slightly and look over his shoulder. Tommy had the biggest shit eating grin Joel had seen on his face since they were teenagers.

“Tell your friend we say ‘hi’, too. Figure you’ll be seein’ her sooner’n we will.” Tommy’s eyes lit up in a mischievous twinkle.

Joel scoffed and shook his head before turning back around, shoving his hands in his pockets, and marching home once more. Tommy’s unrestrained cackle filled the street behind Joel as he refused to look back.

“Goddamn pain in my ass,” Joel grumbled.

He wanted to say something back to shut his stupid brother up, but he knew Tommy was right. Joel would be seeing you as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

Joel didn’t get that opportunity as soon as he had hoped. You had dodged him before when you two had your fight at Tommy’s, but he had still seen you around town a few times then. This time around there was no trace of you for days. You hadn’t made rounds on the worksite. Ellie asked Joel if he had seen you after three days of your absence.

“Nah, must be busy with somethin’,” Joel muttered.

Ellie opened her mouth to no doubt suggest stopping by your house just to check on you, but Joel cut her off.

“It’s enough people in the settlement that I’m sure she’s got more to worry about than just us, kiddo. She’ll turn up.”

Ellie didn’t agree with that assessment, but she also knew better than to argue about it. Joel was surprised when you showed up at his doorstep a couple of days later. You looked like absolute hell.

“Ellie home?” you ask quietly. Your arms are folded across your chest in a hug, and you don’t quite meet his eye.

“Hey,” he breathes. “Was wonderin’ where you were.” He stops himself from reaching out for you. The fact that he had done this, had played such a big part in your current misery, made him feel a bit ill.

You offer a detached nod and nothing more.

“We’re, uh, we’re in the kitchen,” he says, ushering you inside. There’s a sort of far off look whenever he gets a better view of your face.

Ellie is sitting very still as you enter the kitchen. She seems hesitant to make any sudden movement that might startle you or scare you off. You hate that you’ve done that to her.

“I just wanted to apologize to you, Ellie. For the other day. It was… not right to put you in that situation.” Your voice was dull. You tried to emote, but something wasn’t working in your brain. You stare at the pencils and papers she has spread out on the table.

“I mean, what the hell even happened?” Ellie blurts out.

You close your eyes for a moment to gather yourself before answering. She deserved your focus and attention, no matter how excruciating it was for you to give at the moment.

“I, um, I guess it just reminded me of something bad that happened to me,” you gulp. “And, uh, I just got scared, I guess, that something like that was going to happen again.”

“Okayyyyy,” Ellie drew the word out in thought. “And Caro- I mean, the girl’s name? What was that about?”

You swallow down the urge to scream or sob. “C-Caroline is - was - my kid sister. And, um, yeah. We had holed up in a barn for the night, and I wasn’t as careful as I should’ve been. Didn’t keep us safe like I was supposed to. So she died, because of it. Because of me. I guess I was afraid it was going to happen again. Just got scared. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

Ellie’s forehead creased up as she pressed her lips together tightly. She shook her head and insisted with wide eyes that you didn’t need to be sorry. You sniff a laugh. “You’re too forgiving sometimes, kiddo.” Your hazy periphery showed Joel eyeing you with what may have been concern, but he isn’t in focus enough for you to tell.

“It’s not like that. I just– I was worried about you. Are you.. are you okay now?” Ellie knew the answer, but she still held hope that it would be different.

“Yes, I’m alright,” you lie. “Don’t worry about me.”

Ellie catches Joel’s eye. He jerks his head towards the backyard, and Ellie nods in recognition. “Okay, well. I think I’m gonna head out to the room. I’m happy you stopped by.” She gives you a half hug on your arm awkwardly before heading through the backdoor.

Joel sat down at the table and gestured for you to join him. Still in a haze from talking to Ellie, you slump into the empty seat mindlessly.

“When’s the last time you ate?” Joel asks.

“Not sure,” you answer blankly.

Joel didn’t like the hollow stare that you fixed on the wall as you spoke. You were coasting between catatonic and indifferent.

“Some nuts yesterday,” you recall.

“You need to eat,” he says, pushing the rest of his bowl of soup over to you.

“Not hungry,” you whisper.

Joel sighs and scoots closer. “Just try it,” he urges, lifting a spoonful to your mouth.

You feel ridiculous and small sitting there while he fed you like a baby, but you take a bite. It was salty and warm. It was almost an overwhelming flavor and temperature after the lifeless fog the past few days had been.

“Eat,” Joel commands. You sit and scoop a spoonful with a shaky hand as Joel trains his eyes on you.

“You not showin’ up to work?” he wonders in a harmless tone.

“Just taking a few days off,” you answer quietly, avoiding his gaze.

“Anybody checkin’ up on you?” he asks.

You shoot a forlorn glance in his direction. You are too exhausted to know if he was asking a genuine question or just reminding you that you had no one to turn to.

Joel recognizes the meaning behind your expression and winces. It was entirely his fault you couldn’t tell whether or not he was being kind or cruel about what support system you had in place right now.

You laugh humorlessly to yourself.

“What?” Joel presses.

“Just thinking about how funny it is. How you asked whose house I’d go to after a fucked up dream. You know, who I had to give myself over to,” you sneer. “And it’s just funny to me, I guess. Because I had a dream last night. And the night before. The one where Caroline dies. Except it wasn’t Caroline’s dead body on the ground with blood everywhere. It was Ellie. It was Ellie that was dead, and it felt really real.” Your last words came out in a choke.

Joel tensed up at your mixture of detachment and contempt, the latter of which he wasn’t sure was for him or towards yourself.

“Listen, I–”

You interrupt him. “Yeah, I know. I should probably thank you, right? For coming to the rescue. And apologize. For putting Ellie through that. For being a negative influence in her life.”

“You don’t believe that,” Joel protests.

“But you do.” Your watery challenge is barely audible.

Joel rubs his face in his hands. He is to blame for this current predicament. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. He wanted to help you. He needed to help you. He isn’t sure how to. He was just going to have to come up with something, and fast, and roll with it until some epiphany came along.

“Ellie’s gonna come by after school the next few days to say hi. You’re gonna open the door for her when she knocks. You’re gonna let her in and stay with you for a little bit,” he instructs.

You nod gently. Your brain is a muddle of hurt and distraction. You aren’t sure why Joel is sending Ellie to your house when he so clearly sees you as a detriment. After your hysterics in the barn, you aren’t so sure he’s wrong.

You feel Joel’s rough, calloused hand grab yours off the table. “Honey, please just–”

“Don’t,” you snip. You squeeze your eyes shut tight as they’ll go. “Isn’t it enough for you to be right, Joel? Do you have to rub salt in the wound, too?”

The screech of his chair legs across the floor is the only warning you get before he’s suddenly very close to you. His other hand is grabbing at your hip and inching you forward. You open your eyes to find Joel’s face looking almost pained, but that can’t be right. He was just going to gloat, wasn’t he? Take his victory lap in his mission to remind you that you were nothing more than a fraud. That your life and persona and impact was nothing more than a facade he was slowly chipping away at.

“M’not rubbin’ salt in– Quit it,” he exhales in frustration. “I know I was bein’ a jerk, but I don’t think I’m right ‘n you’re wrong or whatever it is you’re sayin’.”

You shake your head and laugh without a hint of amusement. “I’m giving you the win, Joel, and I’m staying the hell out of your way.”

Joel jerks you forward until you’re almost off the seat of your chair. His arm wraps around your back and squeezes at your hip with his other hand. “I don’t want you stayin’ outta my way,” he grits.

Your noses are touching. You’re sharing the same heavy air. You’ve missed the smell of him. He feels warm and broad and wonderful. Under different circumstances you might be able to enjoy the sensations he’s sending buzzing through your veins.

“I’m not doing this anymore, Joel,” you whisper harshly.

Joel’s eyes flutter closed. “Please. Please don’t…” He draws you tighter when words fail him.

“Joel, I–”

“I’m.. I’m sorry. I am. I really am,” he insists. “I don’t want you outta our lives.”

“Wish I could believe you,” you choke out.

“You think I’d send Ellie to your house if that wasn’t true?” he challenges.

His lips are so close to yours it’s hard to concentrate. Your mind has been nothing but mush lately, and this is gasoline on the fire. “I don’t know what’s true anymore, Joel. I don’t know why you do half the things you do. I just know that being around you hurts. And I’m dealing with enough of that right now. I don’t need more of it.”

Joel grimaces as you pull away from him and stand. He clambers up to stop you from leaving. “No, wait!”

Your step falters just for a moment, but it’s enough for Joel to grab you by the wrist. “What? I’m leaving, Joel.”

“You… Not until you have some water,” he insists. You shoot him an exasperated look. It was just a ploy to get you to stay, but your cracked, dry lips were a testament to the fact that a glass of water wouldn’t be a bad idea.

He presses his hand and forearm around your back again and leads you to the sink. He rushed to the cabinet and back with a drinking glass, as if you might scurry away if he didn’t get back to you fast enough. His arm curls around your back, and he tucks his hand on your waist, almost to secure you next to him. He switches the tap on with a finger and fills the glass. He lifts it to your mouth. You take it from him with two hands and gulp it down.

“There ya go, honey. One more, alright?” he coaxes. You shake your head at his pleasantries but accept a second glass. His hand is rubbing soothing shapes on your side. It’s intoxicating and maddening. You hate yourself for still harboring feelings for him after everything he’s said to you. As if Joel senses your thoughts, he hugs you closer to his side.

“M’sorry. About everything. About.. about your sister, too.” His quiet words may as well have been yelled at top volume the way they crashed into you.

“I have to go,” you say in a strangled murmur.

Joel looks on as you practically run out of his house.

You finally make it home and drop into a kitchen chair. You stare at the ceiling in a sort of half awake, half paralyzed stupor until the sun sets. You eventually make your way to your bed, only bothering to remove your shoes and jacket before sinking into the mattress. Your mental exhaustion claws at your eyes for reprieve. You can still feel where Joel’s hands had been on you. You knew it was going to be a long night.

Joel tried to not let on how much he was worried about you when Ellie was around. She had gone to check on you after school faithfully each day this week. When she reported back to Joel, it was always the same thing: sitting in complete silence in the kitchen for about 15 minutes while Ellie made sure you drank a cup of tea. Seeing you this way had shaken Ellie up on top of how scary it had been to see you break down in the barn. Joel didn’t know what to do. He could barely concentrate on the build site or patrol shifts.

He still hadn’t apologized for all the hurtful things he had said to you. At least, not while you weren’t in the midst of a disconnected haze. He wasn’t sure if seeing him would be more hurtful than helpful, so it was strictly Ellie doing the check-ins. When she told him that you were almost out of tea, he finally had something he could do. Feeling so helpless was driving him crazy, and it would be a legitimate excuse to see you again.

Joel decided to make a trip to the herbalist and medicinal shop on the edge of town and see if there were any fancy tea leaves that would fix this mess. When he walked in, he was amused for a split second at how similar it felt to your home. Green shriveled up things hanging to dry along strings lining walls and shelves. Jars of this and that. A guidebook lying on the front counter, open to an instructional page on St. John’s Wort - whatever the fuck that was. An earthy, welcoming scent wafted through the air. It was the closest thing he’d had to you since you’d come to his house, and he felt a bit pathetic at how much it affected him.

He missed you. He missed the you before he fucked everything up. The you that had been so patient and kind and goofy with him, gifting him coffee, taking him and Ellie into your own home just to teach them how to cook something. The you that had perfectly crafted a schooling situation for Ellie that now had her thriving in Jackson. The you that had done nothing but give give give, all the while Joel just took took took.

He had to give back. He had to find ways to give something to you. Anything to you. He didn’t even know if you’d accept it, though. Still, he had to try. He owed you that much.

Joel looked around the shop and felt completely out of his element. For as much survival skills as he possessed, plants and herbs were always a weak spot for him.

A rustling sound from the back room drew his attention. The shop owner emerged and seemed surprised to see someone. “Ah, didn’t hear ya! Sorry ‘bout that,” Will apologized.

“S’alright,” Joel replied.

“What brings you by? That blend not working out for ya?” he asked with a furrowed brow.

“What’s that now?” Joel questioned, wondering if his bad ear facing Will had him hearing incorrectly.

“The blend I put together for you? You were gonna make it into a tea, right?” Will elaborated.

Joel had no idea what on earth he was talking about. Will notched his head to the side in confusion.

“I mean - I could have sworn she had said you. Maybe she said Tommy was the one that needed it?” he wondered aloud. Joel perked up at this development in the situation.

“Oh, the blend? Is that what you said? Sorry ‘bout that, my right side ain’t so great these days. Didn’t hear you the first time,” Joel lied.

Will’s head popped up, a thoughtful finger still resting on his chin. “Oh, no problem, man. Sorry, I know I mumble sometimes.”

“Not a worry,” Joel assured him, desperate to find out what you had been up to. “Well she must’ve told you all about it exactly right because that blend sure is doin’ the trick,” Joel bluffed. Who else could he have been talking about other than you? No one else made any sense. He couldn’t outright ask if it was you, though, not without giving away his ignorance of the situation.

Will proceeded to recount how you had come to the shop looking for some strong sedative agents for Joel since he was getting so little rest and how that was very dangerous for him as he was a regular on patrols. Joel’s muscles twitched under the force of his clenched jaw.

“Course she didn’t mind getting it for you since Tommy is swamped with the baby coming soon,” he rambled. “She’s always been like that. Helps anybody and everybody."

“Well add me to that growin’ list of people,” Joel faked in casual conversation. “I wondered what exactly she’d asked for. I’ll tell ya, hit the nail right on the head.”

Will was an agreeable, talkative man. Warm and friendly. Freely explained how you specifically asked for something very strong since Joel was a big guy and it would make sleep come easier and last longer.

The hair on the back of Joel’s neck stood on end. “Well, it’s certainly been a tough go,” he continued in his charade. He needed to know exactly what you had been given, and he needed to know now.

“Just wish I could remember all the names in the mix. She told me, of course, but I should have written it down,” Joel huffed, feigning annoyance at himself.

Will was more than happy to give Joel all the details and personally write it out himself. He insisted that Joel stop by any time if he had any questions.

“Come to think of it, I did have somethin’ I wasn’t sure of,” Joel posited. Will nodded and gestured for him to continue. “Is this mixture dangerous at all? You know, anythin’ that could be harmful?” It was the question Joel had been chomping at the bit to ask but had to wait until it wouldn’t come across as suspicious.

Will smiled and assured Joel it was completely safe for a man of his size. “And of course, I know she told you to make sure to not mix it with any alcohol. That’s really the only thing that could be dangerous. Two classes of sedating components is risky.”

“Yeah, she mentioned that. Just wanted to double check. Can never be too cautious these days.”

He and Joel exchanged a few more friendly words, and Joel bought the first bag of tea he grabbed to keep up appearances before heading out. He thanked Will once more, throwing out a “thanks again, Sandman” over his shoulder.

Joel was hellbent on finding you this instant.

Even if this entire situation wasn’t some sham of yours to cover up duplicitous intentions, Joel knew damn well Tommy wouldn’t put you up to the task of fetching and delivering some unverifiable herb mixture for him. The idea of him accepting some mystery earth concoction and swallowing it down without any question was laughable.

You’d covered your tracks so poorly it was a miracle this had only now come to light. Considering the fact that you didn’t make a habit of actively deceiving people, it wasn’t surprising that you wouldn’t know how to make your lies more covert.

Joel was a different breed, and he was now on your trail. He intended to untangle every string of facade you were trying to weave.

This was originally 3.6k and ballooned into 8.8k. I debated breaking it into separate chapters, but that didn't feel right to me. So here we are.

It’s most definitely bad-bad-not-good-feelings time around these parts. Sylvia Plath is the penultimate Sad Girl Hours author for me, and her quote seemed quite fitting for this chapter. (If you’ve never had a sad girl era, honestly how the fuck did you even end up here lmao.)

Catch ya later, Puddles

P.S. - Remember to go pick up that SSRI refill at CVS before they reshelve it. P.P.S. - Be well and take care of yourself, though. Seriously.

#fic: endless night #EnNi #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #tlou fic #joel miller fic

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half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk · 3 months

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Louk's Bad Batch rewatch part 19 AND 20 😳

straight into it again batchers 🤟

The Bad Batch 1x15

Crosshair coming to visit Hunter how sweet 💕

Echo teaching Omega to stay focused while being stressed 🥺

every time I see Rampart I wanna smash his face in a little bit more

Omega with her secret base 🥷

her wet droopy hair 🥺

Tech looks like Korkie rn he's a ginger in the light

Echo checking in on Omega 😭

Crosshair you need to listen to Hunter he's right

Hunter: "we didn't have a choice" Crosshair: "and I did?" 😭😭😭😭😭

Omega: "experimental unit 99 began right here" Wrecker: "is that true?" Tech: "how could I possibly know that?" 💀

where are all the other clones "reassigned and transferred offworld" ??? op what does this mean

"guess you were wrong about that" lmao Wrecker

Crosshair listen here you sassy little-

siblings always know when you're lying 🤭

Crosshairs whole speech in the training room....

"I'm going to give you what you never gave me ...a chance" 😭😭😭

"we're not like the regs, we never have been" - this line sounds the most like a reg Crosshair has sounded was this on purpose ??

Crosshair cutting the binders with Hunter's knife AJDJSKAJFL

Tech spotting the discs and silently telling Wrecker !!! I'm jumping over my couches

BDIWOANSHWUAALLDNFIWIANFJEK WHEN CROSSHAIR SHOOTS ALL THE OTHER SOLDIERS WHEN HE- WHEN I- I'VE GONE INSANE-

Crosshair never wanted to kill them he wanted them back 😭😭😭😭😭

THEIR FACES THE MUSIC THE ENTIRE SCENE THEYRE WORKING TOGETHER IVE SURPASSED INSANITY

Tarkin 🤢🤢

Crosshair's holding his head 👀 Chips still there !!

them fighting about the chip 😭 Tech scan his brain pls

Omega hugging Hunter 🤲🥺😭🥰

the completely empty rooms I can't

the regs who open fire 👀 Slip???

I can't deal with watching tipoca city fall 😭

I can't deal with them watching it fall 😭😭😭

THE OUTRO-

The bad batch 1x16

the silence after the blast knocks them down

Crosshair woke up as they slid and I think Echo was out 🥺

that poor reg with the status report I wanna hug him so bad 💔

oop they were all out not just Echo

Tech: *can't hack the door* Wrecker: "I can" kinfe knife knife knife knife

Tech is pulling the door with his fingers 🥺

Wrecker gently catching Omega and passing her to Echo who just holds her for a bit 🥺🤲🥰💔😭💕

then Crosshair just slides into Hunters foot lmaooo

I don't think Crosshair knew what the empire was planning ?? he just wakes up and blames the boys for it ??

them all stopping to look at the water filling up in the baby clone room with all the empty tubes 😭

Omega catching AZI 🥺

DID CROSSHAIR JUST CATCH ECHO 👀

the last time they're all in their room together 💔

lmao Echo with the smell 💀

SHE just saved your ass Crosshair settle down

sibling squabbles turning into heartfelt convos 🥲 Wrecker missed Crosshair so much

theres always a bigger fish

they're all just sitting together to catch their breath 🤲

all back in the lab together 🥲

mhm Crosshair she's your BIG sister show her some respect

CROSSHAIR THIS IS NOT OMEGAS FAULT YOU BUTTHEAD

you sound an awful lot like a clone with an inhibitor chip rn buddy 👀

also sounds like Saw Gerrera which is never a good sign

"all you'll ever be to them is a number" ~ Hunter, then Crosshair's head immediately starts hurting hmmmm 🤔

I think it's still in there and its starting to stop working similar to Tup... possibly bc he got a little fried on that side of his head...

ptsd for Echo being in that tube 🥲💔

Omega doing the blasting instead of Wrecker !!

They're hugging in the tubes I know it

Omega's worried voice 🥺

"I'm going after AZI" 😭

CROSSHAIR 💕💕💕💕

Hunter's nervous hands tapping waiting for Omega to come up 🥺🥲

then him picking her up out of the water and his "I've gotcha" 😭😭😭😭😭

Crosshair handing over his rifle while the other three are ready to shoot him 🥲

Hunter holding Omega's hand- I'm gone y'all

Crosshair refusing to look at them while they're looking at him 💔

the sun shining on kamino after all of that, like the calm *after* the storm... which is unsettling bc it's usually the calm before the storm

Hunter picking Omega up again 🤲 he's so gentle

them all just staring at where their home used to be 💔😭

Wrecker holding AZI like a baby 🥺

they all look so dad (I tried to type sad but both works)

Hunter's soft smile telling Omega it's time to go 🥰

Hunter watching Omega and Crosshair talking

"you're still their brother, Crosshair. You're my brother too." star wars wants me to never stop crying as if I'm not already dehydrated enough

not thinking about how that was the last thing he heard for how many weeks??

FKN TANTISS

all the clone commandos everywhere 👀 the rest of delta squad when

WE DID IT !!! WE FINISHED SEASON 1 💕

Now I'm going to speed watch s2 in the next 2 days omg my emotions won't survive lmao

thanks everyone who's followed along and interacted so far I love seeing love for tbb so seeing people enjoying my responses makes me super happy 💕 I hope tbb3 is good to us 🙏

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frozenjokes · 3 months

Text

Chapter 1/2

Jimmy is a Listener on the Third Life server, but he has no idea what that is. Scar and Martyn seem to know, but while hiding away from everyone as he is battered by intense ‘hallucinations’, he’s only been able to glean out of context half-conversations between them.

He’s getting sick of it.

Hopefully Scar has the answers he’s looking for.

snippet below

***

“Speaking of wheelchairs, I was hoping you’d be able to turn mine on. You won’t have to lug it over here, it’ll come to me on its own, but when I eventually get out of bed, I think I’m going to need it. It’s right down the hall, charging. Power button’s on the left armrest. Not the levers, the armrest, I’ve been told many a time. Glows red, can’t miss it. Unless you’re me. When it's on, a lot of things glow red, it’s not my fault.

Jimmy chuckled. “Of course, Scar.” He left to do just that, struggling just a little bit to find the button, but mostly because it was on the right side, not the left, and also near the bottom, probably so Scar wouldn’t press it accidentally. Once the (honestly, quite terrifying) wheelchair was turned on, it skittered past Jimmy on its many legs right into Scar’s bedroom.

“Thank you!” Scar called, and Jimmy nodded somewhat sheepishly as he followed the chair in, but stayed in the doorway, “Now, I’m really very tired, so I hope you don’t mind if I ask you to leave. Not very hospitable, I know, but I pinky promise I’ll make it up to you later, yeah?”

“Oh! That’s fine, Scar, no worries, but I did have a quick question?”

“Sure.”

“What’s a Watcher?”

Time seemed to freeze for a moment, not even the voices having a thing to say, but Scar relaxed quickly, though not without a glint of annoyance in his eyes.

“Did Martyn visit you?” The voices answered first.

No!

Martyn didn’t and Ren didn’t either!

Martyn hasn’t told anyone! No one should know!

Jimmy flinched and Scar froze, somehow so much stiller than he was before. It was real. If there was still any doubt, there wasn’t anymore. You couldn’t fake cold terror like the look on Scar’s face.

“Where did you hear that.” It wasn’t a question.

“I- uh-” Jimmy felt suddenly stupid. The first person he was about to tell he’d been hallucinating his entire life, and suddenly he was confronted with the potential reality that everything he’s ever heard has been Real. The idea made him sick. “I hear things. I’ve heard them my whole life but I- I never thought they were real! I thought I was just crazy or something, I don’t know-” Once he started, Jimmy found he couldn’t stop, and given the shocked look on Scar’s face, it didn’t look like he was going to interrupt.

“This has been- I don’t even know if it’s all real. Maybe I still am sick or crazy or both but I- I mean- what am I supposed to do with that? Accept it? I’ve never been able to! And if it’s real then that’s just- that's worse, I think! Oh my gosh. Are you and Martyn like me? What happened? I keep hearing things and it’s all jumbled and out of context and I just can’t take it anymore! I want to just leave, but I have to know! Is it real?” Jimmy stopped for a moment to catch his breath, but struggled to keep it, “Is it all real?”

Scar’s lips were so pursed, Jimmy couldn’t even see them. His eyes were drawn wide and frightened, looking exactly like a deer in the headlights.

“That.” Scar said after a short eternity, looking down, “Is not a quick question.”

#hermitcraft #third life #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #evo watchers #watcher scar #watcher scar au #listener jimmy

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mcytshippystuff · 9 months

Text

(/rp, not irl!) OKAY SO! What i think about q!Phil, q!Missa, and q!Forever's relationships in the QSMP;

In my head, q!Philza and q!Missa started out as just co-parents when they were assigned each other to take care of Chayanne. Then they became more like, platonic husbands but I wouldn't say queerplatonic? Like, they felt getting married was just easier but didn't really have the relationship or level of commitment/care a Queerplatonic or romantic relationship would have. Then they started caring for each other, spending time together and having fun, and entered a weird in-between state of tbh they could go either way ya know?

Then Missa started catching feelings. He didn't mean to, honest! But just, the way Phil would worry and cared for him and their son, the time they spent together, how could he not fall for the Death touched Angel? But he wasn't ever sure how to broach it, sometimes he felt as if Phil felt the same but other times it was obvious Phil didn't so it was just a mess, and he wasn't willing to ruin what they had.

(More about Phil's feelings and Forever's part in all this under the cut, its long sorry not sorry lol)

Meanwhile Phil is both Oblivious and very in denial about any feelings, or people trying to point out there may be feelings at all. I'm unsure if id stick q!Phil on the Ace Spectrum or romance just isn't a priority (or if he's just resistant to the idea of it for whatever reason), but either way he cant fathom the idea that people have actual feelings for him, nor that he might have them himself, so he doesn't really look too deep on his feelings and often brushes them away if he's presented with the idea that it may be real.

So what if being with Missa feels like they were the only people in the world? If the way Missa takes care of their son gives Phil light fuzzy feelings in his chest? If having to say goodbye for who knows how long felt like a hole was punched in his chest, and when he came back Phil suddenly felt like the weight of the world was lifted? He cares about his friend, his platonic husband, that's it! Its def not anything romantic pssh that would be ridiculous...

Meanwhile q!Forever, oh poor Forever.

Admittedly in the beginning it was mostly a joke. The resemblance to Brunim, while at first glance, may be strong but to Forever they didn't look alike at all once you got close, in all the small ways that mattered most really. It was funny to tease and poke and get attached to the lookalike but then oh, oh how it stopped being a joke. (Forever refuses to think about there's a good reason why him and Brunim are apart, for both their own sakes)

And maybe, just maybe, for a while it was becuase how much Forever missed Brunim that he got attached to q!Phil, that he started to feel feelings for the man, but if you look close you can see those feelings started to become real, he honestly and genuinely started to fall for Philza. No more mirror images to chase, no, now Phil felt like standing in the heavy rain, every drop stinging but it was so so cleansing, healing, refreshing. Every time Forever got him to laugh felt like a personal victory he'd ride the high of for days, and every sharp, hurtful word was taken with a forced laugh or fake smile and it would linger and haunt his mind.

Forever tried, he really did, but it felt like nothing he could say or do would convince Phil of his real feelings, often slipping up or saying the wrong things and it was Forever's own damn fault, nobody to blame but himself. And maybe he didn't handle this all the best, maybe got to obsessive or said things that went to far but to be honest Forever didn't really know love any other way and was trying to unlearn the worst parts of himself the best he could. It didn't help Forever is really prone to self-destructive behavior when things are going good. And he tried to leave it be, he promises he tried to give up, to let go but the blond Angel had rooted himself, utterly and entirely into Forever's heart and he couldn't bring himself to cut his love for Phil out.

And q!Phil? Well, it was complicated becuase he did genuinely like the man. Forever was funny and for the most part the "crush", if he could call it that, was amusing at best and just annoying at worst times, and even if Forever was annoying or often went too far, Phil knew there was a good man there. He saw it when Forever gave it a rest and they'd have conversations that would last forever. He saw it when Forever would make him laugh until he couldn't breathe or when Forever took care of the eggs as fiercely as Philza did and when the man cried becuase he was so upset at even the idea of loosing any of the kids, and every lose hurt personally. And though he didn't often think to hard on it, sometimes when the other blond would smile or laugh, Phil felt like he was being shone on by the sun, warm, bright, burning, piercing, overwhelming. The quiet moments when Forever would drop all pretenses and masks and just let himself be, in happy, soft, or sad moments made Phi's chest sing.

But Philza couldn't ignore how the fact he was just a stand in hurt in ways Phil wasn't able to explain and to be honest didn't understand why it bothered him so much, it was never a big deal until it suddenly was. Every time Forever assumed something about him or didn't bother to figure out just was another stab in the heart and Phil just got so angry at the fact that Forever tried to say otherwise, but ultimately his affection wasn't real, and he didn't like being played with. Sure he didn't think Forever was doing it maliciously but he just wanted Forever to just stop! Stop how it hurt, how confused it made Phil. He just wanted it to stop being so confusing, to stop questioning these feelings buried deep within his chest. Plus even if wasn't so complicated, some part of him recognizes he also cares deeply about Missa and since they're married, even if its just platonically, its a commitment Phil is committed too so it feels like a betrayal.

Someone tell this man about the wonders of Polyamory!

Meanwhile Forever and Missa are mostly cautious but also a bit hostile towards each other at first, becuase that's competition in their eyes, a threat of their loves, but in the end they chill becuase they realize its neither of their choices and also the other isnt... bad per say. Maybe they even have a understanding becuase they recognize they both love and care for Phil. Maybe they even come to like and even care about the other in the future, who knows.

So, tldr;

Phil has feelings for both Missa and Forever, some more complicated then others, but he both refuses to admit it to even himself or even fathom he could like someone, let alone two people, and his view on Forever still only liking him becuase of his ex made it a lot more complicated becuase he feels hurt. But he has two hands, that's important to remember!

Missa is very in love with Philza but is both too hesitant to say anything, lest he ruin their relationship they have now, and becuase he's been away so much. He really didn't like Forever, both becuase of the "he just likes me becuase I look like his ex" becuase it clearly hurt phil, but he chilled a bit when he realized Forever wasn't a bad person, just complicated and did really love and care for Phil as well, and being hostile towards each other just made Phil more upset. Now they're cool, if not a bit sure about each other, and maybe even come to like or care for each other too later but who knows.

Forever originally liked Philza becuase he looked like Brunim as a joke, and maybe even some of his infatuation started becuase of it too, but he really did come to see Philza as his own person and come to care and even fall in love with Phil for real. However Forever recognizes he's messed up a lot and often still does, but he's trying so hard to both be better and give Philza space but he cant stop loving Phil no matter how hard he tries. Same as above for him and Missa, its complicated but Forever has chilled and is trying hard to work on his jealousy issues. He thinks Missa isnt that bad and might even come to like or care for each other too later but who knows.

Later on, once they all work out their issues and Phil both stops being a oblivious fuck and realizes that Forever really does honestly and truly love him for him, they end up in a polyamory. Its Philza dating them both but maybe end game has Missa and Forever dating too idk lol.

#mine #please reblog likes do nothing <3 #qsmpshipping #qsmp shipping #pissa #philever #I also wanted to hammer home that #when i say Pissa's relationship is considered platonic and not Queer platonic #im not dissing on qpr's #Queerplatonic realtionships are just as valid #real #and important/commited as a romantic one is #its just a diffrent type of realtionship #i just dont think thats what Pissa have #and ill admit i dont know too much about #Brunim and Forever's relationships (rp wise) and #while i could be wrong #from what i understand it was very toxic and bad on both ends #so im choosing to interpret it that way #and alluding to the fact that becuase of it #Forever has a hard time being normal and healthy #about romantic realtionships #but he's trying!#he promises he's trying #i have more hc's for em lol #just focusing on the romantic ones since ship blog lol #let me know if you wanna hear em #Missa's and Phil's section is shorter but only becuase its less complicated #Meanwhile Forever and Phil are so convoluted and complicated lmao #they figure it out tho just takes a bit lol

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dagdasoneandonly · 8 months

Text

Be Careful What You Wish For | Astral Projection | Astral memories | Steven Stone | Self Insert

So this all started with a wish gone wrong, and Deoxys going haywire.

I wished... for Steven and I to be eternally in love, on the Litleonid Shower viewing when Jirachi showed up. however you have to pull a wishing tag, and I did that.

A meteor from space containing deoxys struck us and the wish.. reversed but we didn't feel its affects yet.

Jirachi didn't grand my wish and yet I had pulled the tag.

it happened when Regirock, Regice and Registeel went haywire after I awakened them with Steven, he was holding a water stone and... He became sealed away in a barrier embued with the water stone's energy. I tried using my Firestone that was also embued with the Regis' energy but no such luck.

Latios and Latias arrived stat. They told me that a pure soul was needed to break this barrier. So.. in a way I had Steven for "eternity" just.. not in the way I thought I would.

I blamed myself. I said that I already had what I needed, why did I make this stupid wish? A huge be careful what you wish for moment. I wanted to atone for this. But Jirachi can't undo it as he sleeps for a thousand years.

I cried and cried, what did I have to do to make up for this? I hated myself so much.

Latios and Latias said that first I would have to find Deoxys as he caused this, then find the Regis, and then... get the Ruby, Sapphire and Emerald stone. The latter I did not have.

I had to do various rituals: Get a Pokemon that connected the sea and earth (Swampert) Sky and sea

The stars and the ocean.

Sky and sea = Rayquaza

stars and sea = Starmie

I got those Pokemon and fought deoxys in space, I took his little red nucleus and fused my own soul with it... thank fuck it worked

And I should add, this process took an entire 5 years.

It was a matter of trial and error. I was mad at myself for having been the reason Steven got sealed away for so long.

I found the Emerald Stone in Kanto, deep in the Sevii islands.

Latios and Latias saw the purity in my actions and used the soul dew to break the seal that the Regis made. - I had to defeat them and catch them first of course. It was no fault of their own.

It should also be added that because of this cosmic mishap - my soul also became trapped in a vortex void caused by Deoxys.

So my soul alone could not open it.

We finally managed to unseal Steven afterwards...I rushed over to hug him and he did the same to me. Crying how much he had missed me. I missed him too. I felt angry that I caused this but he didn't get mad at me.. He said mistakes happen.

And.... much to our surprse, Jirachi appeared in front of us and said the wish wasn't really granted so he didn't technically sleep for a 1000 years.

So it looks like.. my wish did come true in the end.

It was later found out that Aqua Admin Shelly was responsible for this mess, let's just say uh she's.. shipwrecked now.

#otp:my wish came true #2devoted things

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wileys-russo · 8 months

Note

lessi as the godmother!!!! 🥹🥹🥹 no rush but please may you write a mini pt 2 where reader has given birth and less meets the baby for the first time<33

sequel to this and part of the a date to remember universe series

godmother II m.earps

"lets fucking go baby!" you yelled at the tv, clapping your hands happily as your wife saved another attempt on goal. it was mid WSL season and since you were so far along now at your doctors advice your wife had promptly banned you from leaving the house for anything not completely necessary, like appointments or your pre-natal classes.

you'd been trying to argue for the last few weeks that to you watching mary play was necessary, but she would just shut you up with a kiss and a firm shake of her head, ending any chance of an argument right there and then.

your wife had always been protective of you by nature throughout the entire time you'd known her, however given you were now pregnant she had become over protective. which meant you found yourself regularly having to bite your tongue not to tear her head off with how she fussed over you.

thats not to say you hadn't snapped.

pregnancy hormones were no joke and some days your wife found herself walking on eggshells, cautious that one wrong word or action would cause you to tip over the edge, your volatile moods becoming incredibly unpredictable.

though she knew it wasn't your fault and more often than not the moment you'd finished yelling you'd burst into tears and apologize, your wife assuring you over and over with soft and loving kisses that she wasn't mad and she understood it was out of your control.

but despite how much mary over worried, she was also your saving grace.

if it was holding up your stomach to allow your back a few brief moments of reprise from its dragging weight, rubbing your very swollen feet, massaging your back and shoulders, putting up with your mood swings, going to the shops at all hours of the day and night to satisfy every little pregnancy craving, if there was any way at all she could make your life easier in any possible way, she was there in an instant, and you adored her for it.

"get in tooney!" you yelled with a cheer, struggling to your feet and pumping your first in the air as the girl scored the equaliser in their match against liverpool, watching with a proud smile as she celebrated with the team, alessia the first one to pull her up and into a tight bear hug.

you heard a strange sound and grabbed at your stomach as a wave of pain suddenly rolled through you. "oh fuck. not now, please not now!" you begged, looking up at the ceiling with your eyes squeezed closed, in denial of what you know you had just heard.

sure enough looking down there was a large wet patch on the carpet and you groaned as another wave of pain rocked your body. sitting down and taking a deep breath you grabbed your phone, hands shaking as you unlocked it and flicked through your contacts to your mother in law.

"hi julie! um no everything is fine...but i think my waters just broke?"

"i'm here! i'm here! i'm here! no one panic!" you breathed out a sigh of relief as the door to your room smacked open and mary stumbled inside, still clad in her keepers kit, face blotchy and red as she squatted down, baby hairs clinging to her forehead which was matted in sweat.

"give me a minute babe oh my god that elevator was taking ages so i ran up like six flights of stairs. jesus!" mary puffed out as she struggled to catch her breath, bent over with her hands on her knees.

"you missed the birth mary." you stated quietly, the woman almost falling to her feet at the news, eyes as wide as saucers. "what!? why the fuck did no one call me?" your wife spat angrily, beginning to pace around at the foot of your bed.

"nah only joking. we've taught her well babe she waited for her mum to finish her game before arriving!" your face broke out into a grin, the colour returning to marys as she collapsed into the seat beside your bed, pincing the bridge of her nose.

"i swear on my life woman if you weren't pregnant i'd punch you." "excuse me darling which one of us in labor right now?"

"right! sorry my love. how are you? how far apart are the contractions? whats the pain one to ten? have you seen a doctor? is there a nurse nearby? have-"

"mary baby breathe!" you laughed, struggling up and gently grabbing her face, your thumbs stroking her jaw affectionately.

"i'm okay, just uncomfortable. its hard to explain but everything just feels really tight and sore? its still early stages, the contractions are about nine minutes apart when they timed them. they said my water broke prematurely which though rare does happen and doesn't mean theres any complications before your mind goes there." you explained as your wife placed her hands over yours, bringing them to her mouth and tenderly kissing the tips of your fingers with a nod.

"the doctors not been in yet and he won't until the contractions are closer together, but the midwives have been great. they should come back around in a few minutes actually so you can talk their ear off with your questions then. your mum just popped out to call my mum, she and my dad are getting on the first flight they can." you continued, smiling and giving your a little nod to show you were finished.

"thank god she picked up when you called. baby i told you i shouldn't have played today, what if no one was there to bring you to hospital!" mary sighed with a frustrated shake of her head, resting her chin on your intertwined hands, you almost having to lock her out of the house in order for her to leave this morning.

"then i'd have called an ambulance my love. you did play, and from what i hear you won so im glad that you did. i got here safely, you got here in time, everything worked out best as it could have. so stop being stroppy!" you smiled, gently pulling away your hands and teasingly flicking her ear before settling back into the hospital bed.

"i'm not bein stroppy!" "your moody little pout says very differently." "i'm not! i just love you and our daughter very very much and i worry about you both, you know that." "i know love, but you know at your age you have to be careful about worrying so much, you'll get grey hairs." "i'm hardly two years older than you are!" "I know you're ancient, should be criogenically frozen in a football museum somewhere." "baby i pray every day she doesn't inherit your sense of humour, i don't think i could handle two of you it would drive me to insanity." "mary!"

"sit love! i'll get it." your wife remanded as the doorbell rang, rolling your eyes with a small smile as you sat back down, hearing her footsteps hurry off toward the door.

"where is she? where's my little niece? her favourite aunty is here!" "you wish you were her favourite tooney, she won't even pay you a second glance once she see's her godmother is here!" "she's one month old she won't care about either of you, and she's finally been sleeping for more than twenty minutes so shut up, the pair of you!"

you heard the girls before you saw them, hearing mary harshly shush them and a loud smack echo out where she'd clearly whacked one of them, ella whining as she entered the room.

"muuum she hit me!" the midfielder pouted in your direction as you chuckled and opened your arms, the younger girl collapsing into them as you wrapped her in a hug. "stop hitting the kids babe!" you teased your wife, alessia lifting your arm and tucking herself into your other side.

"i'm too young to have three kids." the woman mumbled, rubbing at her temples with an overdramatic sigh. "aw great now she's disowned us!" ella continued sending you a cheeky grin. "baby thats not very nice, say sorry to the girls. you know you love them!" you wound up your wife who shook her head, biting back a smile.

"i am going to check on our actual daughter." mary announced with a roll of her eyes, disappearing out of the room. "i love you babe!" you sung out after her with a smile, hearing her grumble as her footsteps faded away.

"so how are you feeling? we've missed you!" alessia asked as ella nodded eagerly, the two of them not moving from where the three of you were wrapped up together in a hug. "yeah mary runs a tight ship! told us we wasn't even allowed to facetime you until she said so." ella pouted with a huff as you ruffled her hair.

"i feel heavy, tired, fat. i haven't slept properly since she arrived, the bags under my eyes have bags, and i think this is the only jumper i currently own which doesn't have sick or some sort of bodily fluid on it." you paused to chuckle and look down at the faded red material covering your body.

"but she's also the best thing that has ever happened to me. i love her so much i would die for her in an instant, her tiny little fingers and toes and her squishy little cheeks man. she's got me and mary by the throat!" you teared up, overwhelmed by the love you felt for your daughter as both girls either side of you aweed and hugged you tighter.

"speaking of, look who just woke up." ella and alessia's heads whipped behind them with wide eyes as mary returned, gently cradling your new born daughter in her arms. "oh my god she's tiny." alessia whispered with a small squeal of excitement, marys face melting into a soft smile seeing the obvious excitement from the two girls.

"do you both want a hold?" your wife offered, eyes flickering toward you as you nodded encouragingly, knowing how much it worried her to have anyone that wasn't the two of you to do so, but you were working through it together.

"shit but how do you do that? don't they have like no bones? and their heads are soft like jelly? their skulls are like-" ella began to panic, rubbing her palms on her shorts. "language around the baby el!" you warned, shoving her shoulder as she hastily apologized.

"yes they are very fragile, but if you want to hold her i'll show you how." you smiled reassuringly, watching the cogs turn in her head. "less can go first!" she decided as you glanced to the blonde on your other side who was busy staring adoringly at the little bundle of limbs in your wifes arms.

"less?" "hm?" "do you want to have a hold?" "oh yes please."

"okay, sit back and get comfortable." you ordered softly as you stood and mary carefully handed you your daughter, pressing a kiss to your cheek and tenderly stroking your daughters hand with her thumb.

"are you okay? its fine if you need some time, they say it normally takes around five minutes to be properly comfortable with holding a newborn baby." mary checked in with the younger blonde who nodded that she was ready.

"so the most important thing is to support the head and the neck." mary started to explain, taking a seat beside alessia who nodded, following her every word. "so very carefully take her-" mary continued as you gently handed over the baby to the striker.

"breathe less." you chuckled as she exhaled shakily, almost trembling as she very gently took your daughter from you, mary shuffling closer to help her adjust.

"so you want her stomach to always be angled toward you, and her back will rest on your forearm. then you'll support her head in the crook of your elbow and your hand can rest there-" mary gently moved alessias arm as ella watched on in awe.

"-and now you're holding her less." mary smiled proudly, squeezing her shoulder and shuffling back a bit as alessia looked up at you in shock. "wow!" ella breathed out in shock. "you're a natural less." the girl complimented as alessias eyes dropped back down to the newborn cradled in her arms.

"this is so weird, like im holding a whole human right now." "yeah its a bit overwhelming at first but you're doing great less."

"hi gorgeous i'm alessia. i'm your godmum but you can just call me aunty lessi!" the blonde smiled as you sat down on marys lap, feeling her arms wrap securely around you as she pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder before resting her chin there, both of you watching on fondly as ella began to interact with your daughter who was tucked up securely in alessia's hold.

"have you accepted we've got three daughters now?" you quietly murmured to your wife with a teasing smile, pecking her lips and feeling her body vibrate under yours with a soft chuckle.

"yeah, i think i have."

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