#no i will Not change my soup consuming ways
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when it's cold outside but you have hot soup inside so your outsides are cold but your insides are hot and it feels like you have a fever and are dying of the plague. +fire damage
#'soup is my favorite' i say as i simultaneously shiver and sweat#e < typed by dropped phone. it should stay#soup so tasty but i feel Poisoned... too hot for sweater... too cold for no sweater...#it may be because i accidentally heated my soup to boiling...#this all felt important to share. for some reason. ahaha so relatable am i rite fellas#absolutely unprompted#no i will Not change my soup consuming ways#soup is like. if food was a nice hot shower
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im literally the juice guzzler, known for my absurd consumption of fruit juice, of course i make things fruitier, OF COURSE I ALREADY DRINK THE GAY WATER
I’m gonna pour so much down your throat you die from gay overdose and drowning
#iiiiifjfbfng#I’m gonna get you#I’m gonna eat YOUR bones for a change I’m gonna eat them they’re gonna be fucking gone#they’ll call you the noodle man the way your limbs will flail around like them when I eat the bones#I’m gonna make soup out of them. and cook and eat the marrow and give it to my gay birds and my darling cats whom I adore#you will be consumed for what you have done tonight
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I’ll be honest, when one party’s aiding and abetting the genocide and the other’s outright gonna kill all my friends, I don’t really care if the fascists “win”. They’ve won already.
You know who would be delighted to hear that? Trump and Putin. The US far right and the Russian government have poured lots of time, effort, and money over the last decade+ into convincing US leftists and liberals that things are hopeless, there's no point in even trying to make things better, and the Democrats and Republicans are functionally interchangeable. They do this because one of the easiest ways for them to win is if the left gives up and stops trying. Every person on the left they can convince to give up in despair brings them closer to complete control. Defeatism on the left actively supports victory on the right.
I think your statement is wrong on a number of levels, both factual and emotional. It comes from not understanding what the actual options are for the US government and the President specifically, either at home or abroad. And it will allow actual fascism to flourish and make the world far worse than it is now.
On an emotional level, the way to address this is to stop doomscrolling. Stop focusing on the worst things happening in the world. Don't ignore them! but don't let them consume you. Start looking for the things that are going well. Find places in your community that you can get involved in making things better. Even if it's only on a small scale like volunteering in a soup kitchen or homeless shelter, it will help you realize that you aren't helpless, that there are things that can be done to make the world a better place. Stay informed about things on a local, national, and international level, but limit how much time and attention you give to things that depress you that you can't affect. Instead of sitting there thinking about all the ways the world sucks and how awful things are, look for things you can do that are productive, and then do them. You'll feel better and you will have made your corner of the world a little better. And you will be a lot less likely to unintentionally fall into the despair, nihilism, and passivity that the fascists want you to be consumed by.
Always remember that the worlds problems are not resting solely on your shoulders, or solely on America's shoulders, and neither is the hope of fixing them. Everyone has things that we can do to make the world a better place, but there are also things that are beyond our control. We can control what we do; we cannot control what others do. We can and should try to make the world a better place, but focusing on the things we can't change has no positive benefits. Focusing on things we can't change accomplishes two things: it makes you feel bad, and it stops you from doing the things you actually can do to make things better. Neither of these things is good for you or anyone else. Look for things you can do and do them. Keep informed on the things you can't change, but don't focus on them.
On a factual level, let's look at "aiding and abetting genocide," shall we?
First, it's important to remember that the US President is not the God-Emperor Of The World. The US government has limits to what it can and can't do in other countries, and both legally and practically. If the US wants to intervene in a problem in another country, there are a variety of things we can do that boil down to basically four categories. It's a lot more complex than this in practice, of course, but in general here are the categories of things we can do:
Send in the troops. Invade, either by ourselves or as part of a NATO or UN operation. (Or maybe just send in a CIA wetworks team to assassinate the head of state.) I hope you can see the moral problems with this option, and also, we've done this a shitton of times over the course of the 20th Century and pretty much every time we've done it, we've made an already awful situation worse. On a moral level, it's pretty bad, and on a practical level, it's worse. Sure, we could stop the immediate problem, but what then? Consider Afghanistan and Iraq. We got rid of Saddam Hussein and the Taliban, and everything went to shit, we spent twenty years occupying Afghanistan with pretty much nothing to show for it. (The Taliban is back in control of Afghanistan.) Things were worse when we left than when we arrived. So this option is pretty much off the table (or should be).
Diplomatic pressure. Now, the thing is, they're a sovereign nation, they don't have to listen to us if they don't want to. We have a lot of things we can leverage--including financial aid--but the only way to force them to do what we want is to invade and conquer, and that only works temporarily. Since we can't force, we have to persuade. This requires us to maintain our existing relationship with the country in question, and possibly strengthen it, because that relationship is what we're leveraging to try and influence them to do what we want them to do. If we do not maintain our relationship, they have no reason to listen to us.
Cut ties and go home. Break off any existing relationship and support, loudly proclaim that they're awful and doing awful things and we wash our hands of the whole situation. This keeps our own hands lily-white and pure, but it also means we have zero leverage to work on any kind of a diplomatic solution. They have no reason to listen to us or care about what we think. We can pat ourselves on the back for doing the right thing, but we destroy our own ability to influence anything. Not just now, but also in the future. Let's say the current crisis ends, and then ten years later there's another crisis. If we want to have any effect then, we would have to start from square one to start building a relationship. Cutting ties would be great for making Americans feel better about ourselves, and there are times when it's the only option, but it should be a last resort. If there is any hope of being able to influence things for the better this will destroy it at least temporarily.
Cut ties and impose sanctions. Break off any existing relationship and support, loudly proclaim that they're awful and doing awful things, but also use the might of the American economy to isolate and punish them. We've done this a lot over the 20th Century, too, and it has never actually resulted in the country in question buckling down and toeing the line we want them to. What happens is the sanctioned country has an economic shock (how long it lasts and how bad it gets depends on a lot of factors) and then pulls themselves back together economically, except this time they're more self-sufficient and less reliant on international trade and financial networks. They tell themselves that America is evil and the cause of all their problems, and so not only do they not listen to us, they actively hate us. And they have fewer international relationships, so fewer reasons to care about what the international community thinks about them. So they're most likely to double down on whatever it is they're doing that we don't like. This one is completely counterproductive and utterly stupid. It's great for making Americans feel better about ourselves, but if we actually care about being able to use our influence for good (or, at least, to mitigate evil) this option shoots us in the foot. It encourages other nations to do the very thing we're trying to stop them from doing.
So, with those four options in mind, both option one (invasion/assassination) and option four (sanctions) are off the table for being immoral and counterproductive. That leaves "breaking our relationship and going home" and "using diplomatic pressure" as our only two viable options.
Biden has chosen option two, diplomatic pressure. Yes, he and our government have continued financial support for Israel ... but with strings attached. They have put limits on it that have never been put on any US foreign aid before. They have taken legal steps to lay the groundwork to target Israeli settlers (i.e. Israeli citizens who confiscate Palestinian homes and businesses). We've been hearing reports for months that Benjamin Netanyahu (Israeli Prime Minister, and a far-right-wing demagogue) hates Biden's guts, because Biden is pressuring him to stop the genocide and work towards peace. Biden is maintaining the relationship, and he's using that relationship to try and influence things to curb the violence and pave the way for a just peace settlement of some sort. Biden has also mentioned the possibility of a two state solution where Palestine becomes its own completely separate country. That's huge, because up until this point the US position has always been that Israel is the only possible legitimate nation in that territory. If Biden stopped US support for Israel, it wouldn't force Israel to stop what it's doing ... but it would let them ignore us. It would remove any leverage or influence we might have.
Biden's hands aren't clean. But the only way for them to be clean would be to also give up any chance of influencing the situation or working to protect Palestinians now or in the future. Only time will tell if it works, but I personally would rather have someone who tried and failed than someone who didn't even try. You might disagree about whether this is the right course of action, and there's a lot of room for honest disagreement about the issue (there's a lot of nuances that I'm glossing over or ignoring). But please do acknowledge that Biden isn't supporting Israel because he supports genocide; he's doing it so that he can continue to maintain diplomatic pressure on Israel to stop the violence.
Which brings us back to "aiding and abetting genocide." Trump is not like Biden. Trump is good friends with Netanyahu and backs Israel to the hilt. Trump thinks that all Arabs are terrorists (and all Muslims are terrorists) and genuinely believes the world would be a better place with them dead. Biden is continuing to support Israel, but using that support as influence to get them to stop or slow down. Trump would be using that influence to encourage them.
And those are the two choices. Someone who is trying to curb the genocide, and someone who actively supports it.
I really hope you can see the significant and substantial difference between those two positions.
But let's say that you're right and Biden's policy towards Israel and Palestine is every bit as bad as Trump's would be. If there was nothing to choose between them on foreign policy grounds, there would still be a shitton to choose between them on domestic policy grounds. You admit that the right wants to kill your friends, and yet you don't seem to think that stopping them from killing your friends might be a good thing to do.
"We can't save Palestinians, so we might as well let Republicans destroy the rights, lives, and futures of LGBTQ+ people, women, people of color, people with disabilities, poor people, non-Christians, and anyone else they don't like." "We can't save Palestinians, so why bother to try to save the people we might actually be able to save." "We can't save Palestinians right now, so there's no point in trying to build up a longer-term political bloc that might drag US politics to the left over the long run."
Do you get why there's a problem with that line of thought?
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Some notes under the snacking issue of Sebastian post caused my brain to weeoweeo it way too much than I expected, so well here are the continuing of topic xd
Sorry it's an essay because I can't write succinctly
1. How did the evil corporation(insert it’s name please) feed?
As far as I’m concerned, the shady corpo experimented on him to check/make people to able to breathe under water. Keeping him alive was quite crucial to success so I think they would provided him with proper amount of of food or at least the full nutrient content preparation. However, it changed when his body started to rapidly mutate, grow and evolve into what he’s now. The vast increase in his need of food and the fact that the gills didn’t develop very well, due to the scientists not very smart move - mixing his DNA with atmospheric oxygen snake and whale, caused the team to shrink his portion and gave him bare minimum in form of drip-feed… Auch
2. How didn’t he die from literally any nutrient deficiency sickness?
As I said it before I do not know the lore very much only basis. So forgive if I mess up some facts about the events. Going back to topic, after the event of beating the life out of his guards/special troops everyone left the lab immediately. Leaving everything behind including the rations, which were sent there for the staff to eat, all kind of medicine - pills, drops, syrups, injections etc. and whatever crops left( no idea if in the game is any „farm” but the transport would be extremely expensive so I think they would love to slash costs especially when there are vertical farms which are efficient, cheap and easy to maintain and during evacuation they could simply destroy it if nothing like this exists there). He simply gain most of crucial elements via all those supplements. Especially via drips which are the least painful without activating all digestive track. I like to think the reason why his extra arm is in the bandages is the fact that he often injects himself with various needles and his veins are in horrible state. At some point point all these supplements will end and it won’t end well for him, but not yet. That’s solves a bit the issue of lack of scurvy, nyctalopia and any other issues alike. Here’s the misery fish and his banana bag of lovely Zn and vit C
3. Another snacking issue
He is in constant state of hunger. No escape from it. The small human stomach ruthlessly dictates the size of his next snack and for how long he cannot eat, because it’s full, but it’s better to have at least one full than none. That could cause another big issue which is connected with the unconditional reflex - food in mouth equals activiting the synthesis of digestive enzymes and HCl in both tracks at the same time. Both are connected to one nervous system and the information goes to both, no matter if only one should start working. Not good situation, one belly is digesting itself,easy way to get ulcers or esophagitis, which not only are extremely painful but also deadly especially in his case with no health care or even chance to get any. He had to figure it out quite quickly how to make his eating as harmless as it’s possible. The easiest way I think would be simply some herby stomach drop, the one which highers the ph and stops HCl from being created. But I fear it works on human part- So he had to create strict timetable - when he eats, when he takes drops, when he can eat again. To keep the snake stomach in check and never letting it be fully empty and miraculously avoid the sinister autodigestive ideas of snake element. So his best friend is a tiny bottle of disgusting drops from a nurse office
4. How not to starve to death with body like that?
Dense soup. Maximum proteins in the smallest velocity and in easy to consume and digest way. It passes both stomachs faster because tough long chains are already broken into smaller ones so it can be faster absorbed and used. It’s also very easy to make and can contain many ingredients giving the biggest diversity in one sip. Still starves because it’s not enough, but there is no better way :”)
And no he wouldn't threaten anyone that he would add them to his soup. He was a human and he exactly knows there are too many weird fellas out there. No way he'll risk getting new traumatic event, he won't take it anymore-
The last thing is this two sentences:
Honestly I wasn't prepared to read something like this with straight face at 6AM. It wasn't in my weekly bingo card, but jup it made my day, thanks
#sebastian solace#roblox sebastian solace#sebastian pressure#pressure sebastian#sebastian#roblox pressure#pressure fanart#the pressure#pressure
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𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐤𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐳𝐨𝐯𝐚 - 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝
• summary: aleksander notices that something different is going on with reader, and his suspicions raise. how will he react when those suspicions are confirmed?
• contains: aleksander morozova x fem reader, mention of pregnancy/symptoms, mention of sickness/throwing up, fluff
• word count: 1.1k
masterlist || requests
Aleksander had started noticing subtle changes in his partner. She was constantly tired, nauseous in the mornings, and had a strange aversion to certain smells. His mind started putting the pieces together, and suspicions began to form. Although he didn't have any concrete evidence yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that she might be pregnant.
He would observe her closely, noting her increasing fatigue and the new patterns in her behavior. Each observation further fed his suspicions, strengthening his belief that she was indeed carrying his child.
Days passed, and he could hardly concentrate on anything else but the thought of her being pregnant. He observed her more closely, noting her mood swings, her growing appetite, and the small changes in her body. The possibility of fatherhood was both exhilarating and terrifying, and the thought consumed his mind.
One day, he found her sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands on her stomach. She was deep in thought, her expression a mixture of fear and wonder. The sight of her, lost in her own thoughts, struck a chord within him. He walked over to her, his heart beating a little faster.
"Are you okay?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady. He sat down beside her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.
She stared off into nothing, and when she started to speak, her voice was quiet and hesitant. “First, my breasts started to hurt. Which was strange, I’ve never felt anything like it before…”
“And then, I couldn’t even stand the smell of my favorite soup. My favorite soup, Aleksander.” She exasperated as if it were a crime.
He nodded, his mind racing. The changes she mentioned were classic signs of pregnancy. The nausea, the aversions to once-favorite foods, even the tenderness in her breasts. It all pointed in one direction.
“I’ve been throwing up the past two days…” She continued once she knew he wasn’t going to speak. “It wasn’t much, but it was still awful. I went to the healers, which was probably foolish because what could they have done for me?”
His stomach churned at the mention of her vomiting. The healers at the Little Palace were knowledgeable, but it was true that without knowing the cause, they could only offer general advice or remedies. "Why didn't you come to me first?" He asked, his voice a mixture of concern and irritation.
Her brows furrowed together, as she shook her head slightly. “What were you meant to do? Massage my breasts? Make my soup smell better? Hold my hair?” She rambled.
He couldn't help but chuckle at her sarcastic comments, the sound of his laughter breaking the tension that had settled over them. "Those are all important tasks, you know," he teased, a wicked grin playing on his lips.
She couldn’t help but playfully roll her eyes. “They may have been nice gestures, yes. But that wouldn’t help me out much, would it?”
"Oh, I don't know," he replied, his smile turning more suggestive. "My hands are very skilled, and I have been known to be quite calming."
She nudged her shoulder into his, a small bit of laughter coming from her as she felt the tension between them lift. This reminded her of why she loved him, how he always made her feel better.
He relished the sound of her laughter, the way her smile lit up her face. He loved the way she responded to his teasing, the way she always softened his hard edges. Leaning into her, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.
She looked up at him through her lashes as she whispered the words that would change everything. “I’m pregnant, Aleksander.”
The moment the words left her lips, time seemed to freeze. His breath caught in his chest, his eyes widening in disbelief. He had suspected it, but hearing her say it out loud, confirming his suspicions, was a shock he hadn't fully prepared for. Thousands of emotions swirled within him, each one fighting for dominance. Shock, joy, fear, and uncertainty all vied for attention, leaving him speechless.
His thoughts raced as he tried to process her revelation. A child. A life, one they had created together, was growing inside of her. It was a prospect both thrilling and terrifying. He took a moment to regain his composure, his arm still around her shoulders, his hand gently stroking her hair.
"Are you sure?" He finally managed to ask, his voice rough with the weight of her confession. He needed to know for certain, needed to hear her confirm it again.
“I wouldn’t have told you if I wasn’t certain.”
His heart hammered in his chest at her words, the confirmation settling heavily in his mind. A thousand thoughts and fears flooded through him, but he fought to keep his emotions in check. He exhaled slowly, his eyes studying her face, searching for any sign of uncertainty.
She knew why he was looking at her as if he were studying her very soul. “I’m certain.” She repeated.
His eyes locked onto hers, the intensity in his gaze unwavering. He believed her, trusted her completely. If she said she was certain, he had no reason to doubt her. The realization that she was carrying his child, their child, settled within him, a mix of awe and trepidation. His hand moved to gently rest upon her stomach, his palm flat against her abdomen.
"A child," he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Our child."
The words slipped from his lips like a reverent prayer, filled with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. He had never imagined himself as a father, never thought he would want to become one. And yet, now that the possibility was before him, he felt an unexpected tenderness in his heart.
“Our child.” She repeated, her hand covering his, a small smile tugging her lips upwards.
The touch of her hand on his, the sight of her smile, sent a new wave of emotions coursing through him. He had never allowed himself to dream of a family, always believing his path was one of solitude. But here she was, carrying their child, and the possibility of a future he had never dared to imagine seemed within reach.
He gently intertwined his fingers with hers, a silent acknowledgement of what was now undeniably real.
As they sat together on the edge of the bed, their hands intertwined and their minds wrapped around the news of her pregnancy, a mixture of emotions coursed through Aleksander. Excitement, anticipation, fear, wonder - it was all there, swirling around in this moment they shared. He looked down at their hands, his fingers gently tracing the back of hers.
"Our child," he repeated once more, the words tasting sweet on his tongue. He smiled then, a genuine smile of happiness. "We're going to be parents."
© lupinsversion 2024
#shadow summoner#aleksander morozova x you#aleksander morozova smut#aleksander morozova x reader#aleksander#aleksander morozova#the darkling x reader#the darkling smut#the darkling#general kirigan smut#general kirigan x reader#general kirigan#grisha#grishaverse
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Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven: Almost
Plot: Joel, Ellie and Y/n work their way across Wyoming in a desperate search for Tommy.
Word Count: 12.6k
Warnings: tlou ep.6 spoilers, language, death, loss of a child, angry outburst, trauma, anxiety attacks, 16+
A/N: SURPRISE! One day ahead of where I thought I’d be, swooping in for a dose of bedtime angst 🌙
As always, I have to put that this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist if your age/range is not specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀
This chapter and the one that will follow are the chapters. They’re the culmination of this whole frickin’ journey. It’s been so fun to eead your theories about Joel and Rosebud’s breakup, and now you’ll have (some of) your answers. I hope it lives up to what you imagined, or maybe even surprises you. Above all, I hope y’all enjoy 😘
—————
December 2023. Somewhere in Wyoming.
Fuck the philosophers of the pre-Cordyceps world.
Time healed nothing.
If anything, time made pain worse. Because, with enough time to study its victim, the pain could evolve. It could morph into anger, bitterness…much like Cordyceps, it could consume its host until they were shrouded in so many layers of hurt, they became unrecognizable.
Time healed absolutely nothing.
Marlon returned to his cabin, hanging the two rabbits he’d killed on the hook outside the door. The little warmth the home managed to retain welcomed him in, but the inside had changed since he’d been gone.
“Who the hell are you?”
Y/n sat adjacent to Florence, Marlon’s wife, blowing on a spoonful of soup. “A deep admirer of your wife’s cooking,” she answered.
Marlon stood confused at the door, slowly removing his jacket.
“And the gun.”
The old man turned to see another stranger, this one a man, emerging from the kitchen. He had a pistol drawn on Marlon.
“And you?”
Joel shook his head, carefully moving towards Marlon, “Just someone passin’ through. Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it outta reach.”
Marlon obeyed, dangling his pistol off his fingers and setting it on an end table. All the while, Y/n sipped her soup.
Marlon looked to Florence, “Why didn’t you shoot them?”
She nodded across the room, “The gun’s all the way over there. They didn’t hurt me by the way.”
“Yeah, I got eyes,” Marlon walked to his chair, he’d already deemed Joel as a very minor, if at all, threat.
“He won’t shoot you,” Y/n interjected, not once looking up from her bowl, “He threatens everyone he meets.”
Joel’s hardened stare landed on Y/n’s face, her casualty was greatly undermining him.
“You made ‘em soup?” Marlon gestured to Y/n’s meal, along with Joel’s untouched bowl that sat on the coffee table.
“Yeah, I did,” Florence answered, “It’s cold out.”
Y/n reached across and touched the woman’s arm, “And it’s lovely, Florence. Thank you.”
Joel sighed in exasperation, “We’re lookin’ for my brother.”
Marlon scoffed and removed his baseball cap, “Well, I ain’t seen him.”
“I haven’t told you what he looks like,” Joel replied.
“He look anything like you?” Marlon asked.
“A bit.”
Marlon shrugged, “Then I ain’t seen him.”
“They’ve got a girl with them,” Florence nodded up the stairs.
“Can I come down now?” Ellie called from above, overlooking the ground floor.
Joel and Y/n answered at the same time.
“No.”
“Yeah.”
Their eyes flicked to one another, Joel’s frustrated, Y/n’s calm. She was done playing the gunslinging traveler when unnecessary.
Ellie, always siding with whichever of them gave her what she wanted, bounded down the stairs.
“Ellie,” Joel reprimanded, as if it would do anything to stop her…
“Ooh-wa,” Marlon chuckled, looking to his wife and Y/n.
“What did I just say?” Joel said as Ellie joined him.
“Joel, come on,” she replied, aiming her handgun at the couple, “They’re like, a thousand.”
Marlon ran his eyes over Ellie, “Who’s this little psycho?”
“Never mind her,” Joel leaned forward, pushing his map across the table to Marlon, “I need you to tell us where we are.”
“If you got a map, why’re you lost?” Marlon asked.
“Must’ve missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest,” Ellie shot back.
“Ho-ly,” Marlon smiled to his wife, the two of them sharing a laugh.
Joel glanced over to Ellie, she was mirroring his posture, his tone…she was trying so damn hard to be like him. “We’re somewhere here,” he pointed to a spot on the map, “Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife’s.”
Marlon’s eyes flicked to Florence, “You tell ‘em the truth?”
“Yeah,” she replied.
“Are you tellin’ me the truth?”
“Yeah.”
Marlon leaned forward and pressed a finger to a spot on the map. It wasn’t the answer Joel was looking for.
“Well,” he holstered his gun, “You found a great place to hide, I guess.”
“Hide?” Marlon chuckled deeply as Joel settled on his couch, “Came here before you and your wife were born, sonny. Get the hell away from everybody.”
“Not his wife,” Y/n was quick to reply before taking another spoonful. It had been three fucking months of assumptions and both Joel and her were exhausted by them.
Florence turned to Y/n, “I didn’t want to.”
“Eh,” Marlon waved his wife off and looked to Joel, “Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother but if you’ve come this far, then you know what’s out there. You seen Cody?”
“Yeah, got close enough,” Ellie answered from the arm of the couch, “It’s crawling with Infected.
“Yeah, Laramie,” Marlon listed off, “And Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be. You can’t go there no more.”
Y/n set her soup aside and leaned forward on her elbows, deciding it was finally time to take the conversation seriously. “So you’ve never heard the name Tommy Miller?”
“Nope,” Marlon answered.
“What about the Fireflies?” Ellie asked.
Florence nodded, “We get those in the summer.”
“Not the bugs,” Ellie replied, thoroughly put out, “The people.”
“There are firefly people?”
Y/n joined the joke and gestured down the length of her body, “In the flesh.”
Marlon, Florence and Y/n shared a laugh, Joel couldn’t tell whether he was more annoyed or disappointed.
“You got any advice on the best way west?”
“Yeah,” Marlon leaned forward, “Go east,” he ran a finger along a stretch of water on the map, “But you never go past the river here. Ever.”
“What’s past the river?” Ellie asked.
“Death,” Florence answered, “We never seen who’s out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some Infected, some not,” she turned to Joel, “If your brother’s west of the river, he’s gone.”
Joel and Y/n’s eyes met across the table, both trying to conceal their worry under Ellie’s ever-present gaze, but knowing they could share it with each other.
“You’re not gonna scare us,” Ellie said, confidently.
Florence nodded towards Joel and Y/n, “Scared them.”
They quickly buried their anxieties under blind determination. Whatever lay across the bank, it didn’t matter. They had to believe that Tommy was both alive and well on the other side.
Filing out of the cabin, Joel and Y/n marched ahead of Ellie.
“You don’t seriously believe them,” Ellie half-stated, half-asked.
“They’ve lived here a long time,” Joel replied, trudging through the snow. He could feel his heartbeat speeding up.
Y/n turned around to see why she couldn’t hear Ellie’s footsteps following theirs. The girl was unhooking one of Marlon’s rabbits, “El, come on, don’t steal their food.”
Ellie was undeterred as she swung the game over her shoulder, “They don’t know anything. Never heard of the Fireflies.”
“Yeah, they wouldn’t have out here,” Y/n stretched her arms out around her to the snowy expanse, “Doesn’t mean you have to steal t-“
Y/n’s words faded in Joel’s ear, a steady ring filling the space. It was happening again.
Joel stumbled forward, resting a weak hand on a piece of the cabin’s fence, his breathing became labored. His thoughts began to spin with worst case scenarios in all their various forms that could become reality, if what lay on the other side of the river was real. Every nightmare his mind drummed up ended with Y/n or Ellie d-
“Joel,” Y/n called, she was the first of them to notice. She walked to meet him, “Joel.”
“Joel?” Ellie echoed, she’d had yet to witness one of his episodes, “Joel, are you okay?”
“Shut up,” he said, verbally waving Ellie off.
“Holy shit, are you dying?” Ellie continued.
Joel shook his head and shut his eyes, trying to block them out, “I’m okay.”
Y/n wasn’t so convinced, she laid a firm grip onto Joel’s shoulder. “Joel, c’mon.”
“Okay, but are you okay?” Ellie asked again.
“I’m fine,” Joel insisted, wishing desperately that Y/n would remove her hand, but not possessing the strength to shove it off, “I’m fine.”
“No, no, but are you?” Ellie wouldn’t stop, why couldn’t she stop? “Because just a reminder, that if you’re dead, we’re fucked.”
Y/n’s gaze darted to the girl, “Ellie-“
That was enough to bring Joel back to Earth.
“I said I’m fine,” he pushed, contradicting his words with his palm pressed to his chest. “It’s just the…cold air all of a sudden.”
Y/n let her hand slide off his shoulder, wholly aware that he was lying. The episodes had been occurring more and more over the last few weeks, they seemed to be getting worse the closer they got to wherever Tommy was or wasn’t.
Joel refused to ever tell her what triggered them, hell, he had barely figured it out himself. What he did know was that he couldn’t deal with what lay at the core of them all. That would have required an honesty he hadn’t possessed in twenty years.
“All right, uh,” Ellie was the first of the three to bounce back, “So let’s go find Tommy and the Fireflies. It’s gonna be easy,” she slid between the fence and called back to them, “All we have to do is cross the river of death.”
Joel and Y/n were left on their own, the former waiting to catch his breath, the latter waiting on an explanation.
“Would it have killed you to back me up in there?” Joel asked, his usual sour mood replacing the small glimpse of vulnerability.
“Yeah,” Y/n’s watched him bury the lsat thirty seconds, denying her an answer once again, “‘Cause that’s our biggest problem.”
She slid through the fence after Ellie, leaving Joel to bring up the rear of their group.
The last three months had been trying, but not in the ways Joel and Y/n might have thought at the beginning of their quest. They could only stay silent with each other for so long before they had to talk, and they’d reached a place where they weren’t at each other’s throats any more. While the snow had frozen the earth, their anger had melted…
Leaving all the underlying emotions to fill the vacant space.
The physical distance they kept hadn’t changed, but the unspoken chasm between them was beginning to cave in on itself. With each passing day, it was growing harder and harder for Joel and Y/n to pretend like they didn’t need each other.
In every one of Joel’s attacks, his guilt slammed into him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown the life out of him. So many people he’d let down and when he opened his eyes, he was staring into the face of one of them. One look at Y/n caused everything he’d told himself about her over the years to follow the undertow out to sea.
Y/n, in all her righteous rage, was beginning to do the impossible…she was starting to understand why Joel had done what he’d done to her. She’d spent twenty years cursing his name, a constant boil in her stomach that bubbled whenever she thought of him, but there’d always been a voice in her head reminding her of the ‘why.’ All of Joel’s actions from Outbreak Day on had been driven by a deep pain inside him. That inkling was starting to spread through Y/n’s mind, the dye well on its way to consuming the whole brain.
In a perfect world, they’d have come to one another, humbly, and talked it through. Instead, they held their grudge, with its dying flame, as the barricade between them, hoping that it sparked once more.
—————————
In the fall, fires had been a luxury, but as winter rolled in, they became necessary to make it through the night.
Y/n and Joel sat on opposite sides of it, Joel adding another layer of duct tape to his boot and Y/n stitching up a busted seam in her leather gloves. It was the apocalypse’s version of domesticities.
Ellie was above them, having scaled a rock to get a good look at the stars. A green glimpse of the Aurora Borealis waved through the midnight blue sky.
Joel whistled for her eventually, “Come down from there. You’re gonna break your neck.”
Ellie reluctantly returned to the ground, choosing to sit close to Y/n and watch her mend her glove. The two of them had grown closer over the past three months. Joel would never let his guard down wholly for Ellie, but Y/n was more comfortable letting the girl see her as she was.
“Ahh,” Ellie said, spotting the flask Joel was taking a swig from, “Can I have some?”
“No,” Y/n and Joel said in perfect harmony.
“What? Just to warm up,” Ellie clarified, “C’mon.”
Joel’s eyes flicked to Y/n, who knew she couldn’t hold old world rules to their situation. Her gaze falling back to her handiwork served as Joel’s answer.
Ellie took the flask, made sure to give a little ‘cheers’ to Joel and took a drink. She grimaced as it ran down her throat, “Yep,” she strained, “Still gross.”
Ellie held out the flask to Y/n, who shook her head. The thought of being anywhere near where Joel’s lips had been unsettled her.
“So I’ve been thinking,” Ellie started after a short stretch of silence, “Let’s say we find the Fireflies, it all works, they draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines and make a cure.”
Joel’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Okay.”
“Then what?” Ellie asked, “Like, what do we do?”
“Oh, it’s ‘we?’” Joel replied.
“Yeah, the end of this partnership comes as soon as we get to the base,” Y/n pointed between herself and Joel.
Ellie nearly rolled her eyes, “Okay, fine. Whatever, you. Separately. You can do anything you want,” she looked to Joel first, “Where are you going? What are you doing?”
Joel glanced at the sky, to admit his true answer would kill another piece of the remnants of his heart. “It’s never been an option,” he cleared his throat, “Maybe…”
For a split second, he saw it all again. His old house. Tommy in the kitchen, raiding their fridge. Sarah at the table, doing homework.
And Y/n, somewhere in the middle of it all, laughing and looking to Joel with a softness that both uplifted and settled him.
“An old farmhouse,” he lied, “Some land…a ranch.”
Y/n stared down at her needlework, knowing that each word was a lie.
“Cool,” Ellie replied, oblivious to the history surrounding her, “What kind?”
“Sheep,” Joel answered, it was the first animal he could think of, “I would raise sheep.”
“Sheep,” Ellie repeated under her breath.
“They’re quiet,” Joel continued, his stare falling on Ellie, “Do what they’re told.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Ellie got the hint, “So just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic. Is there…” her eyes swung between Joel and Y/n, “Room for anyone else in the pens with you?”
The assumptions made by strangers that Y/n and Joel were a couple were enjoyable compared to Ellie’s constant attempts to push them together. They were getting more frequent and less subtle.
“I go back to work after this, El,” Y/n said, finishing up her last loop, “Doubtful I’ll be getting back to Boston any time soon, so I’ll probably stay at the camp out here.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Ellie shook her head, “I asked what you wanted to do. Out of anything, anything in the world.”
Y/n stopped her stitching, staring down at the needle, wondering if she poked herself hard enough, if she’d be able to draw blood. Would she be able to feel the prick? Or was she just numb enough that physical pain couldn’t touch her?
Joel had noticed that Y/n was beginning to slow down more. On the move, she was as fast as ever, but in the quiet moments between, there’d be times where the world was in motion, and she was perfectly still. It was like she was somewhere deep, deep in her mind, waiting for whatever hold had come over her to break and allow her to return to reality.
Y/n swallowed thickly, her past life flickering before her eyes like a movie montage. Sharing a beer with Tommy while watching a Cowboys game. Painting Sarah’s nails for her with a color the girl had stolen from Y/n’s bathroom. Laying in bed with Joel, deep in the pillows and listening to him sing softly over his guitar…
Her dreams were dead.
“I want to work,” she answered, it wasn’t a total lie, “Help people. If I stop for too long…then what the hell am I doing?”
Joel wished he didn’t recognize the underlying sentiment, that if she stopped moving at an inhuman pace, the grief would consume her. But he did, because it was the same way he lived his life.
Y/n clipped the thread with her teeth, beginning to tie a knot, “And what about you? What are you gonna do after you save the world?”
Ellie gave a small smile as Y/n nudged her with her shoulder. She turned her gaze to the sky, specifically the very visible moon. “It’s probably because I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there’s ocean and ahead of you there’s a wall,” her smile grew the longer she stared at the stars, “Nowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell…” Ellie sat forward with enthusiasm, “But you know who my favorite is?”
“Sally Ride,” Joel and Y/n both answered, it wasn’t hard to guess.
“Sally fuckin’ Ride,” Ellie slapped her knees, enunciating her point, “Best astronaut name ever!”
Whatever levity had come over their campsite faded quickly, Y/n watched as Ellie’s passion turned to sobering…grief? Guilt? She was hard to read sometimes, the innocence of youth and the scars of rushed adulthood creating something entirely new.
“It’ll work, right?” Ellie asked, “The vaccine?”
“It’s a little late to start wonderin’,” Joel responded, his hands folded over his stomach.
Ellie looked down at her lap, unable to look either Y/n or Joel in the eye. “I tried…with Sam.”
“Tried what?” Y/n asked.
“I knew he was infected,” Ellie confessed, “I rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know,” she hurried, trying to stop Joel’s anxious admonishment before it came, “I know, it was stupid, but I…” she looked back down at her lap, “I wanted to save him.”
Y/n diverted her gaze to the fire, feeling the warmth of it deep in her belly. Not a day had gone by where she hadn’t thought about Henry or Sam. It had taken her a full day after their deaths to even be able to speak. The sorrow in Henry’s eyes before pulling the trigger on his own life haunted her. The pain of understanding still lingered in her chest, coming out to play every once in a while and remind her that no matter what she did, no matter how hard she worked to be a good person…she couldn’t erase what she had done.
“Well, I reckon it’s a lot more complicated than that,” Joel plainly answered, “Marlene, she’s a lotta things, but…she’s no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it.”
Ellie absorbed his answer before turning to Y/n, waiting for her reassurance.
Y/n pulled herself out of her grief, barely quirking the corners of her lips up. “It’ll work,” she replied.
Ellie seemed to accept both their responses, letting silence fill the space again until she decided it was time to end her day. “How’re we splitting up the watches?”
Joel sighed, Y/n’s gaze already waiting for him when he looked up at her.
“We’ll do ‘em both,” he answered, “Get some sleep. Dream of…” he capped the flask and exchanged it for his rifle, “Sheep ranches on the moon.”
Ellie nodded, grabbing her sleeping bag and walking to the deeper part of their hideout, “I will.”
Y/n fitted her repaired glove back on her hand, tucking them under her armpits for extra warmth. This was the hardest part of each of the day/ When it was just Joel, her and the unmentionable divide between them.
Joel tried to distract himself, gazing up at the moon and focusing on tracing the constellations around it. But the self-discipline he tried so desperately to maintain concerning Y/n was slipping, his eyes using some uncontrollable part of his mind to drift over to her.
Y/n was struggling to keep up her stoic decorum, the urge to let her and Joel’s conversations warm growing stronger and stronger. It was natural in their mutual isolations to wish for someone to talk to. But with him in front of her, the figurehead of the past she wanted so desperately to go back to…she craved a piece of a memory, any memory, that only he could give her. A short hit of dopamine to get her through the next day.
“So, Tommy,” she began, it was the only part of their past she could safely return to.
“What about him?” Joel asked.
“Is he…” Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to phrase the question right, “Is he still…Tommy?”
Joel sighed, the memories of two decades ago mixing with the last version of his brother he’d seen. “He’s still a pain in the ass, if that’s what you’re askin’.”
Y/n gave a very small smile, “But he’s still him?”
Whatever she was looking for, Joel couldn’t give her. None of them were like they’d been twenty years ago, except maybe her. She had managed to keep her humanity intact. He was darkness in both their eyes. As rough as he’d been on her at the beginning of their journey, now, he didn’t want to shatter her illusion about perhaps the one person left on the planet she loved.
“Yeah,” he replied, “He’s still him.”
Y/n nodded, deciding not to ask anything else and let the moment stay pleasant. “I can take first watch,” she volunteered.
“No, you go ahead,” Joel shook his head, “I’ll wake you up.”
“Okay,” Y/n replied, too tired to fight him. She grabbed her own rifle before unrolling her sleeping bag on her side of the fire, stretching out under it and using her arm as a pillow.
Joel kept his eyes off of her until the even rhythm of her breaths told him she was asleep. Then, and only then, did he let himself watch her, trying to combat the various fears that filled his head. She was there, in front of him, alive and well.
But how long could he keep her like that?
—————————
Even in his sleep, Joel couldn’t find rest.
A barrage of images, flashes of colors and echoes of screams, played through his mind. When he startled awake, like every morning past, all he could feel was an overwhelming sense of loss.
The gun was gone.
This was it. His grand failure.
He bolted upright only to find Ellie, a few feet away, standing guard with his rifle.
“Still mumbling in your sleep,” she stated, “I woke up early. You and Y/n,” she glanced over at her still-sleeping guardian, “Were passed out, so I took second watch.”
“You gotta wake one of us up if that happens,” Joel snapped, quickly getting to his feet and crossing the distance between him and Y/n, “You can’t do things like this.”
“But I can,” Ellie smiled, “‘Cause I just did.”
Joel crouched down, shaking Y/n’s arm lightly in an effort not to startle her, “Hey.”
All credit to him for trying, Y/n still woke with a gasp. It was her basic programming.
“We’re fine, we’re fine,” Joel was quick to reassure her as she rolled onto her back.
Y/n scrunched her eyes, blinking the sleep away from them, and sat up. It was daylight. Joel hadn’t woken her up for her watch, again.
“My fault,” he accepted the blame she was getting ready to place on him before continuing his conversation with Ellie, “We’re responsible for you, okay?”
“Then don’t fall asleep,” Ellie challanged, “I was quiet, I checked my six, I looked for tracks, I found the high ground and I kept watch,” she explained as Joel approached her, “Like you taught me to. What can I say, man? I’m a natural.”
Y/n scoffed as she unzipped her sleeping bag, “And you’re not cocky about it at all.”
Joel held out a demanding hand, taking the rifle from Ellie, but accepting that she’d done the job right. “You wake us up next time,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir,” Ellie replied, smugness evident in her tone and on her face.
Without another word, Y/n and Joel collected the few things they’d unpacked, smothered what remained of the fire, and the three of them resumed their hike to an unknown destination.
—————————
Even if they’d have been warned in graphic detail what lay over the River of Death, it wouldn’t have changed Joel and Y/n’s minds. The only way to Tommy was to risk their lives crossing, and they did so with very little hesitation.
Ellie, bless her soul, had found plenty of ways to keep herself entertained on the way, including trying to teach herself how to whistle and requesting hunting training. Joel still wouldn’t budge on the latter.
“So, I’ve been thinking,” Ellie started at some point in their hike, “And I think I figured out what happened between you two.”
Joel and Y/n tensed up as they walked alongside one another, Ellie’s cleverness worked against them most of the time.
“Obviously, you two were a thing way back when in Texas,” she explained, adding a twang to the state’s name, “And then at some point, you guys break up. The ‘why’ was what was tripping me up, until I realized, boom…there was somebody else.”
Y/n forcefully exhaled, wondering whether the theory was more preferable to the truth.
“Now, I can’t quite figure out which one of you would’ve slipped up,” Ellie continued, “But even if you didn’t cheat with them, there was someone who got in between you enough to equal a big fight, throwing things at one another, screaming how much you loved each other and eventually ending with you swearing never to speak again. Which is why you two were ready to kill each other when you met in the QZ.”
Joel was near reaching his boiling point, fighting the pull to spin around to Ellie, wave a finger in her face and explain exactly how the situation had gone down. But the reality of those words finally escaping his lips and taking up space in the world was an unbearable thought.
Y/n was near breaking too, feeling the cracks in her chest begin to spread. She needed off the topic if she was going to be able to take a breath. “What the hell kind of stories were you checking out in between astronaut books?”
“Whatever,” Ellie brushed it off, “I know I’m right.”
Thankfully, she let the subject go as soon as they closed in on an old, out-of-usage dam. The water still gushed through it and into the river.
“Dam,” Ellie punned.
“You’re no Will Livingston,” Joel remarked.
“Yeah, yeah, but who is?” Ellie smiled, “So that made electricity?”
“Yeah,” Joel answered, predicting Ellie’s next question, “Don’t ask me, I don’t have a clue.”
He resumed their walk, Y/n and Ellie trailing behind.
“You know, you could have just made something up,” Ellie said, “I would’ve believed you.”
The three of them hiked a half hour more before coming up on another side of the river, or perhaps, an entirely separate one.
“Look at that river,” Ellie remarked, “It’s crazy blue.”
Y/n and Joel were hardly paying attention, both in their own separate thought bubbles. Any time the subject of their past relationship was brought up, it reset the clock on their comfort with each other and took at least an hour to warm back up to one another.
“Hey,” Ellie spoke up, “What if this…is the River of Death?”
The adults stopped in their tracks, the thought hadn’t dawned on them after the victory of crossing the first body of water. Joel whipped out their map, Y/n came to join him and the two of them examined it carefully.
“Fuck,” Y/n mumbled under her breath, pressing a hand to her temple.
“We don’t know it yet,” Joel quickly said, walking ahead a few steps to get a better view of their surroundings. Y/n followed closely, with Ellie on their heels.
A noise on the hill above them caught Y/n’s ear, her eyes lifting from the map to see a group of riders coming straight for them.
“Joel,” she shook his arm forcefully, bringing his attention upwards.
At the first glimpse, Joel grabbed Ellie’s free hand, Y/n taking the other, and they bolted for the forest. There were enough riders to circle them in, aiming their rifles at them and cutting off any escape route they could have found. They were fucked.
“Get behind me,” Joel told Ellie and Y/n, only the youngest of the two listened to him. The three of them held their hands up, “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble, we’re just passin’ through.”
“Drop the guns,” one of the riders ordered.
Slowly, Y/n and Joel slipped their rifles off of their shoulders and placed them on the ground.
“You,” the same guy nodded to Ellie, “Take five steps back.”
“We can talk through this,” Y/n said, her voice gained strength the moment Ellie was addressed.
“How about you shut the fuck up?”
“Okay,” Joel spoke quickly, his hand instinctively flinching towards Y/n’s as she was threatened, “Easy,” he looked behind to Ellie and said with a low voice, “You’ll be okay.”
Ellie backed up reluctantly, her eyes darting between the riders, Y/n and Joel.
“You been near any Infected?”
“There’s no Infected out here,” Joel answered the man.
“The hell there ain’t,” the rider replied, whistling immediately after. One of them walked a dog, a German Shepherd, forward. He was barking wildly. “Last chance for a bullet. If you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.”
Y/n and Joel’s blood ran cold.
The dog came forward, sniffing from Joel’s boots up to his torso, and deeming him safe. He went through the same motions with Y/n before walking back to its keeper. Joel and Y/n felt the same hesitant relief, could they really make it out of this?
“Like I said,” Joel said, “We’ll just move on.”
But life wasn’t that merciful to them. “Now her,” the rider nodded back to Ellie.
Y/n turned to face the girl, Ellie’s eyes widened with childlike fear. There was nothing Y/n could do to help. The second she raised her pistol, she’d be dead. They’d know they were hiding something and they’d shoot Ellie too. But if she stayed perfectly still, resting all of her hope on a blind theory, maybe…just maybe…
Joel wasn’t thinking hardly as rationally as his ex. His ears began to ring, his heart began to race, all his senses blinding him with terror as the dog approached. He was helpless again, his hands tied behind his back as he watched someone he cared about die a slow, meaningless de-
Ellie giggled.
Y/n huffed a sigh of relief at the sound, her and Joel turning to see the dog licking Ellie’s face. She fell back onto the snow, laughing and scratching the animal’s neck. When she smiled up at them, Joel and Y/n felt the oxygen return to their lungs.
The rider whistled for the dog to return, “You just bought yourself ten more seconds. What are you doin’ out here?”
It took Joel a few of those seconds to come back to his surroundings, “We’re just lookin’ for my brother. That’s all, nothin’ more.”
“Ho!”
The rider to the left of the one threatening them nudged her horse forward, stopping a few feet closer to Joel and Y/n. “What’re your names?”
“Joel,” he answered.
“Y/n.”
The woman looked them over, her bandana covering all but her eyes. “I can take you to your brother,” she finally said.
Joel’s lips parted in shock, instantly tilting his head to gaze over at Y/n, who wore the same surprise. Tommy was alive.
The woman called back to one of the riders, ordering them to go retrieve the two extra horses they’d left to graze. They were brought back, saddled and all, and Joel, Y/n and Ellie were directed to get on them.
Y/n jumped on one first, her and Joel both helping Ellie onto the rear of the saddle.
“You hold on and you don’t let go, alright?” Y/n said, wrapping the reins of the bridle around her fist. It had been a long time since she’d ridden.
“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hummed, locking her arms around Y/n’s middle.
Joel promptly mounted his own horse, nudging his them closer to ride alongside Y/n and Ellie.
“Let’s move out,” the woman called to the group.
They rode about fifteen minutes, galloping further west. In the distance, a building could barely be made out. The closer they got, the more Y/n and Joel could tell it was a fort. The party slowed as they approached the gate, two riders getting off their horses to help open it up. Joel and Y/n followed without question, despite having a dozen.
Y/n’s breath caught at the sight inside the walls.
It was a town. A proper fucking town.
Unlike the QZ, the place they were looked whole, kept up. The buildings weren’t crumbling, they stood firmly planted in the ground. All around them, people were strolling, not running. Children were screaming in play, not in fear. There were even snowmen lining the outside of one of the storefronts.
Y/n wanted to look back at Joel, to make sure he was seeing it too. She instead kept her eyes forward, scanning over her surroundings in awe.
Joel was entirely confused, but otherwise occupied by checking each and every face they passed to see if it was Tommy. Eventually, the sounds of construction instinctively brought his attention to the side of a building where two men were hard at work. The second silhouette, a tall, thin, dark haired man, didn’t require an extra second of examination. Joel knew it was his brother.
“Tommy,” he shouted.
Y/n followed Joel’s line of vision and let out a hushed gasp.
Tommy looked up from his work, scanning the group for the familiar voice. His eyes fell on his brother, shock freezing him for a few seconds before he began to climb down the scaling.
Joel slid off his horse, his steps quickening as relief flooded his body. Tommy strode towards him, the two of them meeting in a solid, long overdue, embrace.
Tommy laughed into Joel’s shoulder before pulling back to get a good look at him, “What the fuck you doin’ here?”
Joel took a breath, taking in their surroundings, “I came here to save you.”
Tommy’s brows furrowed while Joel exploded into a fit of laughter, the two of them pulling each other back in.
Y/n wound her leg over her horse, dropping to the ground and handing Ellie the reins. She kept her distance as she watched the brothers reunite, a sharp pain running through her chest she hadn’t felt in two decades. But when Tommy opened his eyes, gazing over Joel’s shoulder, he straightened up.
Tommy looked between his brother and Y/n, dumbfounded by the sight of them in the same vicinity. He broke away from Joel, walking the distance before matching Y/n’s quickened jog, and lifted the woman into his arms.
As soon as Tommy embraced her, Y/n’s long-held tears began to fall.
“What the hell?” Tommy asked, his mouth muffled against Y/n’s coat.
Y/n was too overwhelmed to explain anything.
“I tried,” Tommy rushed out, having held onto those two words for twenty years, “I tried to find you, I couldn’t.”
“I know,” Y/n sniffled, “I know.”
Cleared of any wrongdoing in her eyes, Tommy held Y/n a little tighter and pulled her off her feet. She laughed as she cried, digging her face into the denim of Tommy’s jacket.
If Joel had thought he could handle the reunion, he’d been wrong. The sight of his brother and his ex, so thrilled to be in each other’s presence again, split him. It was the first time in three months he’d seen Y/n genuinely happy, so full of joy she was brought to tears.
Joel could feel his own eyes growing wet.
Tommy set Y/n back on the ground, keeping an arm around her shoulders and looking to Joel. When Y/n and Joel’s gazes met, there was no trying to hide any of what they were feeling. It was a heavy moment, but a joyous one, and they had to sit with it.
“Y’all must be starving,” Tommy said, “Let’s head to the mess hall, give us some time to talk.”
The rest of the riders trailed off, leaving Joel, Y/n, Ellie, Tommy and the dark skinned woman who had led brought them there. Y/n and Joel remained on foot with Tommy, though Y/n kept a hand on Ellie’s reins all the way to the mess hall.
Inside, the woman Tommy introduced as Maria, made special effort to get Joel, Ellie and Y/n hot plates of food. Weeks of mostly rabbit had them shoveling their meals into their mouths, none of them even asked what they’d been served.
“There’s more if you need it,” Maria offered, her and Tommy sitting across from the threesome.
Joel looked up from his plate, “Thank you, ma’am. It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.”
“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal,” Ellie interjected in between bites, “This is fuckin’ amazing.”
Y/n took her eyes off her plate to shoot Ellie a raised eyebrow.
Joel’s southern upbringing turned him white with shock, he quickly looked up to Maria. “Sorry. Ellie, let’s mind our manners.”
Tommy smiled at his brother, it all sounded very familiar…
Ellie looked across the room, spotting a girl watching her from behind a wooden beam. She glared back at her curious stare, “What?”
Y/n pressed a finger to her temple, “Ellie…”
“What’s wrong with you?” Joel asked.
“What about her manners?” Ellie replied.
“She was just curious,” Maria cut in, “Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.”
“Right…” Ellie was unimpressed, “Well…maybe I’ll teach them. And I want my gun back.”
“They also aren’t armed,” Marie replied, the group had been forced to check their guns at the front door.
“You know what?” Tommy jumped in, “Uh, I think maybe y’all got a little off on the wrong foot.”
Ellie gestured to the woman, “She was gonna have her guys kill us.”
“Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let into this place,” Tommy explained, “But it’s all bark. We’re just tryna scare off those who might wanna try us is all.”
“Well,” Ellie returned to her plate, “You’ve got a couple of 90-year olds shitting themselves out there.”
Joel and Y/n’s heads turned at the same time, “Ellie.”
“They say that you leave dead bodies laying around?” Ellie continued her tirade.
“Those are the people that tried us,” Maria said.
“A bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad,” Tommy stated.
“Not always at least,” Maria added, staring right at Joel.
The tension at the table was palpable, Joel, Y/n and Ellie all wating for Maria’s glare to soften. That wasn’t going to happen.
“Ma’am,” Joel’s voice firmed up, while still retaining its southern pleasantness, “We’re grateful for your hospitality and all,” he looked expectantly to Tommy, “But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.”
Family, and whatever Y/n and Ellie were.
Tommy was half holding his breath as he leaned forward, “Well, um,” he took his wife’s hand, “Maria is family, actually.”
Y/n nearly had the wind knocked out of her, thankful she didn’t have a piece of food in her mouth.
“Oh, shit!” Ellie put together the pieces, “Congrats.”
Joel couldn’t take his eyes off of their clasped palms, painfully transfixed by the bands around their fourth fingers.
“Yeah,” Y/n added, quickly trying to adjust to the idea of Tommy as a husband, “Congratulations.”
“Joel,” Ellie lowered her voice, “Say congrats.”
It was going to take a hell of a lot more time for Joel to absorb the news. “Congrats,” he attempted.
It wasn’t that it was awkward, it was that the ever present dagger in Joel’s heart suddenly twisted.
“Well, how ‘bout a tour?” Tommy suggested, eager to exchange the tension for some fresh air.
“Great idea,” Y/n replied, wiping her mouth off and rising before anyone else. There was a pit of anxiety slowly and steadily building in her stomach and she needed to walk it off.
They were quick to find out that the heart of the town looked even nicer than the edge.
“We settled here about seven years ago,” Maria told the group, “Just a handful of us back then,” she pointed down the middle of the town, “That section was already a gated community, so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still find pockets of them.”
Joel, Y/n and Ellie stayed in a horizontal line behind Maria and Tommy, the foreign environment causing them to want to stick closer together. Unwittingly, Ellie was once again being made the barrier between Joel and Y/n.
“And you said Infected?” Joel asked.
“Yeah, but usually smaller colonies,” Tommy answered, “Wandered off from the cities. All this open country out here…” he looked back to his brother, “It’s a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub-MOA. Can headshot those fuckers from a half-mile out.”
Ellie’s ears perked up, “Can you teach me how?”
“No, he can’t,” Joel was quick to shoot down the idea.
“How do you keep off the radar?” Y/n asked, “I mean, using all these resources, how has FEDRA not tracked you guys down?”
“Carefully,” Maria answered, “Being in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio.”
Tommy snuck a look to Joel, who had come up alongside him. There was the answer he’d been waiting three months for.
“House of worship,” Maria continued to talk through the buildings, “Multifaith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as the jail, not that we’ve needed it.”
Joel’s eyes drew upwards to the electrical lines, “And you draw power from the dam?”
“Got that workin’ a couple years ago,” Maria answered, “After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters…lights.”
“This place actually fuckin’ works,” Ellie remarked as she walked, leaving Joel and Y/n behind.
If Y/n thought she’d gotten a taste of normality back at Bill and Frank’s house, this felt like some sort of starvation induced hallucination. Except there was food in her belly and ice cold air in her lungs, it was all real.
Tommy and Maria led them towards the agricultural section of town, rows of greenhouses and animal pens lining their way.
“Hey, Joel, look,” Ellie pointed to the heard of sheep ahead of them, “Baaah,” she laughed before turning to Maria, “So are you, like, in charge?”
“No one person’s in charge,” Maria responded, “I’m on the council, democratically elected, serving 300 people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting.”
“Everything you see in our town,” Tommy gestured around them, “Greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership.”
”So, uh,” Joel figured, “Communism.”
Tommy was quick to scoff, “Nah. Nah, it ain’t like that.”
“It is that, literally,” Maria turned to her husband, “This is a commune. We’re communists.”
Tommy stopped short as the realization hit him, Joel and Y/n trailing behind purely to watch his full reaction.
“Easy there, soldier,” Y/n smirked, patting him on the shoulder while Joel matched her expression.
Rejoining Maria and Ellie, where Ellie was petting one of the horses poking their heads out of the stables, Maria changed subjects.
“Well, I’m sure they’d like a shower, some new clothes,” she addressed Tommy, “We can put them in the empty house across the street from us.”
“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, looking to Joel and Y/n, “It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since ‘03, but it’s the heat goin’ in it. Could do worse.”
“Oh, trust me,” Ellie spoke up, “We have been.”
“We’ve been doin’ fine,” Joel defended them, nervously rubbing his hands together. He needed to talk to his brother, just them.
Y/n was absentmindedly tapping her foot, matching Joel’s energy. The town itself was lovely, and Joel was bearable, but there was something about the combination of the two that was making her feel uneasy.
“Well,” Maria picked up on the mood, “I’ll take Ellie over there if you three wanna catch up?”
“Uh,” Y/n raised her hand quickly, “I’d actually love to join you.”
Tommy started to speak up, he was more than curious as to how Y/n and Joel had reunited. One look at the readiness in Joel’s eyes to be without her ceased his tongue from moving.
Ellie, however, had started to require both Joel and Y/n’s presence with her. Without one, she was restless. “Joel…”
“You’ll be fine,” Joel reassured her as he and Tommy walked off. He managed not to seek out Y/n’s eyes, it felt like the first time in days he’d had any control.
Y/n expected that parting from Joel would give her instant relief, but even when Maria led her and Ellie to their lodging, it didn’t come. In fact, the more distance they put between each other, the deeper Y/n could feel the anxiety within her. She was miserable with him and unsettled without him.
The house Maria assigned them was lovely, modest yet welcoming. Y/n nearly felt her heart break walking in, feeling the warmth of the air flood her body. It was like stepping back in time, a piece of seemingly meaningless history preserved perfectly.
“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you,” Maria told Ellie, pointing up the stairs, “First door on the left. There should be a towel and soap already there.”
Ellie looked expectantly to Y/n.
“I’ve got a few things to grab over at my place,” Maria said, “Maybe Y/n could help me?”
“Go,” Y/n nodded to the girl, “I’ll be back.”
Ellie filed upstairs, leaving Y/n and Maria to themselves. Maria made sure to lock the door on her way out, handing Y/n the key after.
“There’s only one, so don’t lose it,” she noted, leading Y/n across the street to her and Tommy’s house. The house felt much the same as the other one did, a few differences in designs, but nothing spectacular.
Maria began to rifle through a closet near the downstairs bathroom while Y/n meandered through the living room.
“Y’know, Tommy told me about you,” Maria called from across the room, “I’ve only heard your name once or twice. Every other time, he just referred to you as Rosebud.”
The nickname sent a sickening pain through Y/n’s stomach. “Oh, yeah,” she tried to play it off nonchalantly, “He gave me that nickname the night I met him and…”
“Joel?” Maria finished, popping her head out to try and get a read on Y/n’s reaction. She had a lot of feelings regarding her husband’s brother.
All Y/n felt capable of doing was nodding, blindly feeling around for the chair closest to her. She wandered the room, her eyes drifting to the fireplace before scanning her way up and-
Her heart stopped.
Sat on the mantle was a chalkboard, two names and two dates written across it.
Kevin - 4/3/00 - 9/29/03
Sarah - 7/20/89 - 9/27/03
Negative emotions always tended to stay right below the surface, regardless of the cliches about burying them. They were easily accessible under the right conditions, and if the wound was deep enough, it didn’t take much to trigger them. Y/n was already on the edge, teetering between holding onto the last bit of anger that had fueled her the past twenty years and collapsing under the weight of her grief.
Sarah’s name decided her fate.
And she crumbled.
—————————
“Those things I did, Tommy, those things you judge me for…I did those things to keep us alive.”
“We did those things,” Tommy pushed back, “And they weren’t “things’,” we murdered people. And I don’t judge you for it, we survived the only way we knew how…but there were other ways. We just weren’t any good at ‘em,” he paused, preparing himself for Joel’s reaction, “But I do judge you for what you did to Y/n.”
Joel sighed, he couldn’t take it. He physically could not handle discussing that day with Tommy.
“Joel, you l-“
“I know what I did,” Joel’s voice rose, he held up a hand more to calm himself than anything else.
“And now, twenty years later, here she is,” Tommy gestured to the door as if Y/n was right outside, “Do you even know where she’s been? What she’s been through? ‘Cause I don’t! And I’d have liked to know.”
Joel’s anxiety was beginning to bubble in his stomach, the vines climbing up his throat, ready to choke the life out of him.
“Have the two of you even talked about it?” Tommy asked calmly, his own emotions on the verge of showing.
Joel gripped the bar counter so hard, he thought he might snap the wood. He rolled the cold glass in his palm, trying to hold onto anything he could, as if it could save him from being sucked back into the vortex that was the past…
—————————
September 28th, 2003. Austin, Texas.
Cordyceps.
It was the only word people were capable of saying.
Cordyceps.
One little strand of fungi had taken out the entire world.
Joel, Y/n and Tommy ended up quarantined at a triage clinic. It was deemed one of the only “safe zones” for non-infected citizens. Dozens and dozens of people, crammed into a tiny building, practically sleeping on one another.
Joel had yet to string more than two words together since Sarah’s death. He was nearly unreachable. It was tragic enough for a parent to lose a child, it was another thing to cradle your daughter as she bleeds out in your arms.
Y/n felt like she was moving through cement, unable to fully comprehend what was going on around them. Her grief was overwhelming her, leaving her no more than twenty minute interludes between fits of wailing. But with Joel completely decommissioned, she was forced to rise to the occasion and take charge of their situation.
She returned from another attempt to reach her parent’s house, her cell phone getting no reception. She’d also tried the pay phone and Joel and Tommy’s phones. Nothing.
Y/n settled beside Joel in their corner of their hallway, it was nearly empty on account of it being the middle of the day. Most people took their walks around then. Tommy had volunteered to go out on patrol with a couple other veterans that were there.
“I still can’t get through,” Y/n started, hugging her knees to her chest, “Tried my parents, Annie, Jason…” she thought of her siblings, “Nothing.”
Joel didn’t even acknowledge her presence, he just kept staring down the hall.
“I have to get up there, Joel,” Y/n finally said, the thought had been keeping her awake all night, “I have to find them, make sure they’re okay.”
Many people assume that grief is but one emotion; sorrow. A deep sea of pain that you are thrown into without a floatiation device. But those who have never experienced it know not of the vastness of grief. There is anger, there is frustration, there is betrayal, there is jealousy…all of which can change you into an entirely different person.
And Joel was slipping away by the second.
“Joel, I have to go,” Y/n spelled it out in simpler terms for him.
Nothing.
“And I can’t go alone…” Y/n continued, worried that he had completely shut down. She rolled onto her knees, taking one of Joel’s cheek into her palm, “Joel, I need you.”
Joel stared forward, motionless.
Y/n was flying blind, unsure of how much was too much talking or how little she was supposed to be acknowledging Sarah’s death. But the world was, quite literally, falling apart. She couldn’t navigate the wreckage on her own.
“Joel,” she whispered, “I know it hurts-“
“Don’t,” Joel turned to her, the speed of it causing Y/n to pull her hand back, “Don’t.”
Y/n’s eyebrows came down in confusion, “Don’t what?”
“Don’t you act like you know what I’m feelin’,” he snapped, tears filling his eyes.
Of all the reactions, Y/n couldn’t have ever predicted this one.
“Joel, I was there too,” she replied, keeping her tone gentle, “I was-“
Joel pointed his finger at Y/n, their faces inches apart. “I’m her father,” he gritted through his teeth, “You were a bystander. They are not the same.”
Y/n inched back, bracing her body with her hands. He’d never so much as raised his voice at her.
As much as she wanted to let him grieve, she couldn’t let him descend into hostility. She wasn’t sure if her tactic would hurt him further or allow him to see the truth, but she couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Joel…” she began, he was back staring numbly at the wall again. Y/n drew a shaky breath, the memory was so fresh in her mind, she could still hear Sarah’s voice. “She called me mom.”
If there was one thing about Joel’s reaction to his daughter’s death, it was the sheer delirium it threw his brain into. Much like Cordyceps, it was ripping through every cell of his body, changing the fundamentals of every inch. Whatever reaction he may have had to the news of Sarah’s decision had been poisoned by what he was allowing her loss to do to him.
He locked his hands together, gripping them so hard his knuckles turned white. Shutting his eyes, he let his head drop between his arms and took a shallow breath. “No, she didn’t.”
Y/n was afraid his mind was slipping away from her. “Joel, she did,” she continued, trying to push past the lump in her throat, “I went upstairs to bed a-and she called out for me.”
“She didn’t,” Joel repeated, his hands practically shaking with rage.
“Joel,” Y/n began, reaching up to touch his arm.
“NO!”
Joel jumped to his feet, his shout echoing in the empty room. He’d scared Y/n enough for her to fall back against the wall.
“She didn’t fuckin’ say it,” Joel aimed his finger at his girlfriend again, “You weren’t her damn mother.”
Y/n stared up at him with tears in her eyes.
“Doesn’t matter if you wanted to be,” Joel kept going, “Doesn’t matter if you tried. You weren’t. You were some fuckin’ woman livin’ in her house.”
Y/n got to her feet, trying ever so hard to be patient with Joel’s grief. But she wasn’t going to allow him to take her last normal moment she’d had with Sarah away from her.
“You weren’t there,” she argued back, “It happened, whether or not you want to believe it,” Y/n pointed a finger at her own chest, “She chose me.”
“You’re fuckin’ lyin’,” Joel growled, spinning away from Y/n and putting his hands to his hips. He couldn’t look at her.
Y/n was entirely lost, praying that Tommy returned soon. She couldn’t manage Joel in this state on her own.
Joel couldn’t see straight, let alone think straight. Only one thing seemed to ring true in his mind; Y/n was lying. She was a liar. She was lying about his dead daughter. What kind of monster would lie about a dead child?
Like a snowball rolling down a mountain, Joel’s delirious realization began to make sense, leaving him with only one course of action.
“I’m done.”
Y/n could barely register the sudden shift, from anger to calm. “What?”
Joel turned back to her, sweeping his hand through the air, “I’m done. We’re done.”
The air thickened suddenly, the stakes of his statement as important as the next breath Y/n drew.
“Joel-“
“No,” he shook his head quickly, “This is over. I’m not gonna stay with you when you’re lyin’ about my child-“
Y/n took an urgent step forward, reaching out for his arm, “Joel-“
“You don’t get to try and make yourself feel better about her now that she’s g-“ Joel choked on the word, flipping back to grief for a mere second, “Oh, God…”
Y/n was on the verge of panic, he was completely out of his mind. “Joel,” she urged, “Don’t do this. Take a breath and-“
Just like that, he was engorged in rage again. “Don’t. Don’t fuckin’ touch me, don’t even fuckin’ look at me.”
“Joel,” Y/n cried, her tears streaming down her face, “I love you. I’m here and I love you.”
Through the haze of insanity, Joel could feel her words. They wrapped around him, cradling him close to the warmth of her chest. He could almost feel something again, something pure and safe…it nearly pulled him back to shore.
Nearly.
Joel crossed the space between them, lowering his voice to a growl, “Well, I don’t love you.”
If there was an exact moment to point to as to when Y/n’s heart shattered, it was then. The force of Sarah’s death weighed so heavily on her chest, she was convinced she was in the midst of a heart attack. But when two tragedies occurred, so close together, it was always the second one that broke a person beyond repair. The second is unexpected, pushing you into a new level of grief you didn’t think you could feel. That was the one that could drive you to madness.
Snot and tears mixing across her lips, Y/n shook her head. “You don’t mean that,” she mumbled.
“I do,” Joel replied, his voice so full of confidence, “You’re a fuckin’ liar.”
Y/n felt like she was drowning, kicking and flailing under the waters, trying to find some way to make Joel believe her. To pull him out of his delusions.
The two lovers stood in the hall of the clinic, squaring off in a battle neither one of them knew how to fight. Their heartbreak was manifesting in completely opposite ways.
Scanning her face once more, to remember in the years to come, Joel turned on his heel and walked away from Y/n.
“W-wait,” she trembled, quickly following after him, “Where are you going?”
“To find Tommy,” Joel said, his fists curled at his sides as he marched through the clinic.
“Joel, stop,” Y/n begged, trying to keep up with his pace, “Joel!”
Joel made his way outside, where the clinic was still accepting injured civilians. All around them was tragedy, while one was unfolding between them.
“Joel,” Y/n called again, six feet behind him, the grief in her bones slowing her down, “Joel, you can’t go out there. Tommy said-“
“Don’t tell me what my own brother said,” Joel practically shouted, refusing to look back at her. He needed a quick escape.
Scanning the makeshift parking lot around them, he spotted an F1-50. He stalked towards it as if it were prey.
“Joel,” Y/n called in between her sobs, she was more terrified for him than anything else.
Once he got to the truck’s door, Joel slammed his fist without hesitation through the glass window.
“Joel!” Y/n cried, watching the blood begin to trickle down his knuckles.
Joel reached through the shattered window, felt around for the lock/unlock button on the door and clicked it. He threw the door open and got inside, the glass on the seat cutting through his jeans and into his thighs.
Y/n surged forward, Joel’s absolute insanity was becoming real. He was actually leaving her. She took hold of the door handle, “Joel, don’t. Don’t,” she hyperventilated, “I can’t do this without you. I can’t. I can’t.”
Her pleas began to crack the ice around his heart, just enough for him to allow another gust of icy wind through his chest. He became indifferent to her cries.
Joel slammed the door shut, the force of it pulling Y/n forward.
“Joel, don’t do this,” she sobbed, clinging to the side of the truck, “I love you. I love you. We can get through this. We can get through this.”
Joel felt around for the keys, finding them conveniently left in the ignition. He switched the truck on.
Y/n’s chest heaved, her window for reasoning with him closing. “No, Joel. Don’t do this! I love you, please, don’t do this.”
Joel’s body trembled, some sane part of him knowing that was he was doing was inhumane. But grief’s noose tightened around his throat, reminding him that the sicker state of mind was where he belonged now. His heart was nothing more than a liability now.
He pressed down on the gas pedal.
“No,” Y/n yelled as the truck shifted, she was practically tripping in the dirt trying to move with it, “Joel, don’t! Don’t do this to me! Please! Don’t do this to me!”
Joel ignored her cries, turning the truck towards the open road.
“Don’t do this,” Y/n shouted, her voice straining and fluctuating with her tears. If he didn’t stop soon, she wouldn’t be able to keep up with the truck. “Joel!”
The final cry did it, Joel couldn’t handle any more. He pressed down further on the pedal, jolting the truck forward.
Y/n was able to catch one last look at him, a final glimpse at the man she loved with her whole heart, leaving her as if she was nothing more than a dead body already. When her hand slipped from the truck, Joel having sped up to escape her, she knew he was forever lost to her.
She stopped running, screaming into the cloud of dirt he’d left, “JOEL!”
Y/n watched him steer the truck out of the clinic’s lot, pulling onto the dirt alongside the road and driving off. Her wet eyes followed the blur until it was completley out of sight.
That was when she fell apart.
She dropped to the ground, screeching like a wounded animal, clutching the ground underneath her fingers. She screamed loud enough for a clinic staff member to rush out, reaching out to help her. Y/n wrenched out of their loving grip, shrieking for them not to touch her. She didn’t want their oxygen masks, their sedatives or their counseling.
Sarah was gone. Joel had abandoned her. If this was death coming to collect her, she would go willingly into its embrace.
—————————
December 2023. Jackson, Wyoming.
Y/n dropped to her knees in the middle of Maria and Tommy’s living room, clutching her stomach.
“I think I found everything,” Maria announced, walking out from the closet and spotting Y/n. She rushed across the room, kneeling down beside her.
Silent sobs turned to violent ones, shaking Y/n’s body with a force she hadn’t felt in twenty years. Unlike that fateful day, Y/n allowed Maria’s caring arms to wrap around her as she wept.
“I’m sorry,” the kind woman said, pressing close to Y/n’s ear.
There was nothing anyone could say to put any of the pieces back together. Every part of Y/n’s grief over Sarah’s death, Joel’s abandonment, the choices she’d had to make after she was left on her own…it was all coming to the surface after three months of repression. The physicality of her sobs exhausted her less than the act of holding herself together in front of Ellie and Joel.
Five minutes or a half hour, Y/n wasn’t sure how long she spent on the floor, Maria cradling her as if she were a child. At some point, the tears stopped and she was once again aware of her surroundings.
“Tommy told me all about you,” Maria said, still holding Y/n, “About your family. How good you were with Sarah.”
Y/n sniffled, fighting the urge to gaze back up at the girl’s chalk-written name. It would only send her back into tears.
“It doesn’t matter what happened between you and Joel,” Maria continued, clearly she knew a lot more than perhaps she should have, “You helped raise that girl. Far as I’m concerned, you should feel a mother’s grief.”
A mumbled cry bubbled from Y/n’s lips. Every day she felt the loss of Sarah like that of a lost limb, the phantom pain constantly pulling at her body.
—————————
“I’m gonna be a father.”
Tommy’s words paralyzed Joel, he physically lost the sensation of his heartbeat, his breath…it all stopped, allowing grief and bitterness to fill the hollowness within him.
“To be honest, I’m scared to death,” Tommy lifted his glass to his lips, “But I don’t know, uh…” he smiled, “I feel like I’d be a good dad.”
Joel wanted to scream, he wanted to punch a hole through the fucking wall to counter the pain of the universe’s cruel slap.
“Guess we’ll find out,” he replied, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and refilling his glass.
“‘I guess we’ll find out?’” Tommy repeated, practically indignant as he looked to his big brother, “That’s all you got?”
Joel settled against the bar, keeping a firm stare on Tommy, “What else am I supposed to say?”
Tommy got to his feet, exhausted by bearing the brunt of Joel’s grief. “Just because life stopped for you,” he said, “Doesn’t mean it has to stop for me.”
Much like after losing Sarah, Joel was acting purely on emotion. The world had ripped away everything from him, and here Tommy was, with everything he’d almost had.
“We’ll grab some supplies and be out of your hair in the mornin’,” Joel bit out, turning from his brother and grabbing his jacket. He burst outside into the cold air.
—————————
“I, uh,” Y/n sniffled, trying to collect herself, “I should get back to Ellie.”
“Don’t worry,” Maria said softly, “I’ll take care of her. You take a moment to yourself.”
Y/n practically scoffed at the idea, she hadn’t had a second to herself in three months. But the tension within her was so great, she didn’t have the will to fight Maria on the offer.
“Thank you,” she laid a hand on Maria’s arm, letting the woman help her to her feet.
Y/n stumbled out into the cold, trying to absorb the sound of the children’s playful screams, the crunch of the snow under her boots, the feel of her breath slamming back into her face each time she exhaled…she’d had anxiety attacks before. Taking stock of your surroundings was supposed to help.
Except she was too far gone for coping strategies, she needed alcohol and she needed someone to talk to. Someone who understood.
On their way in, Maria had led them past a bar, and Y/n felt like a bloodhound, tracing her way back through the crowds to find it. The world may have changed, but she knew she’d find exactly who she needed at the counter with a thing of whiskey in his hand…
—————————
Joel stumbled out into the snow, leaning up against a metal lightpost. His breath was catching, his heart pounding out of his chest, the tinnitus flooding his ears once again…
Once upon a time, Tommy’s life had been his. He’d had his daughter, so bright and beautiful. A home that they’d made their own, despite the wounds that had led them there. And Y/n, his Y/n, the missing piece of his and Sarah’s life, a ring nearly on her finger…
And as much as he wanted to blame Cordyceps for losing all of it, he was hardly faultless.
He’d had twenty years of guilt soaked isolation, trying to convince himself that what his grief riddled self had thought was truth. Y/n had to have lied for him to continue on with life, because he couldn’t face the alternate. He couldn’t believe that he had abandoned her for no good reason…
It was a conclusion he’d come to weeks ago, the more time he spent with her reminding her of who she really was.
Across the way, there were families gathered around the Christmas tree. Joel’s eyes mindlessly drifted over them, catching on one woman’s silhouette. Her head of curls, the weightlessness of her voice…in his panicked state, it was Sarah.
He took clunky steps forward, chasing the illusion that his daughter was standing in front of him. He wanted, needed to believe it to be true. There had been some terrible mistake, they’d abandoned her body too soon and by the grace of God, she was-
A small child ran up to the woman, revealing her true face.
Joel stopped, his heartbreak pulling him back to reality. This was how far his mind could take him under the worst circumstances. He was convincing himself that his daughter was still alive and twenty years prior, he’d convinced himself that the love of his life was a liar.
It was grief that stood every chance at breaking him.
—————————
Y/n crossed through the middle of town, spotting the Christmas tree and the surrounding crowd singing and chattering around it. She couldn’t handle the sight, ducking into the bar as quick as she could.
Tommy turned around, glaring at the door, ready to rip into Joel further. “Oh,” he muttered, putting away his anger at the sight of Y/n, “Thought you were Joel.”
“I’m thankful you’re not,” Y/n remarked, walking to the counter and spotting the open whiskey bottle. He was everywhere she looked.
She reached over the counter and grabbed a glass, filling it a little over halfway, “You two not getting along?”
Tommy sighed, rolling his glass in his palm. “Complicated,” he answered, “But I’m preachin’ to the choir, aren’t I?”
Y/n bristled, lifting the glass to her lips and letting the burn of her throat force her into feeling something.
“Maria’s pregnant,” Tommy blurted out.
Y/n’s arm fell to the bar, the glass hitting it hard. To say she was shocked would have been a gross understatement.
Tommy smiled up at her, “That so hard to believe?”
“Well, you gotta cut me a little slack here,” Y/n replied, dazed, “The last time I knew you, there was a new girl every week. I was kinda half-convinced you already had a kid.”
Tommy chuckled, he’d missed her so much. He considered Y/n another loss from Cordyceps, though it chose his brother’s grief as its medium.
“I…” Y/n pulled out the barstool next to him and sat down, her mouth still agape, “How do you feel about it?”
“Good,” he nodded, “I think. Maria’s already been a mom before, but…I really do think I could be a good dad.”
Y/n rested her hand on Tommy’s wrist, drawing his eyes to her. “You’ll make a great dad,” she said, proud and with a smile. It was the first good look at him she’d gotten. Though he sported a few more wrinkles and scars, a mustache now hanging over his upper lip, his eyes still held the same sparkle.
Tommy beamed back at her, laying his hand over hers. The warmth shared between siblings still flowed between them.
“So that’s why…” Y/n glanced at the door, absentmindedly pointing outside.
“Yep,” Tommy turned back to his whiskey.
“Oh,” Y/n murmured, so caught up in the beauty of the news that she hadn’t thought about how Joel might have reacted.
“Can I ask you somethin’?” Tommy asked.
Y/n shook her head with a small smirk, “C’mon, it’s been twenty years but you don’t have to be formal.”
It wasn’t formality, it was handling gasoline near a wildfire.
“How the hell are you two doin’ this?” Tommy asked, setting down his glass to give the topic his full attention.
In her anxious state, Y/n hadn’t stopped to think that Tommy would bring up the very thing she was running from.
“There were…” Y/n cleared her throat, “A lot of threats the first few days. Lots of hate. Mostly from me. But we had to…come to some sort of truce if we were going to get through this.”
“Joel told me you’re with the kid,” Tommy cut in, “She’s not yours?”
Y/n snorted, “No. But she’s…” she paused, unprepared to unpack what Ellie meant to her, “She wasn’t going with Joel unless I came with. So really, she’s to blame for all this.”
Tommy chuckled, taking a quick sip before repeating the same question he’d asked Joel, “You two talked about what happened yet?”
Y/n shrugged, feeling the weight of twenty years in her shoulders, “What’s there to talk about?”
“I think there’s everything to fuckin’ talk about,” Tommy replied.
The seat was suddenly digging into her thighs and there were electric currents in her legs. Y/n slid off the barstool, trying to take slow steps around the bar counter to deescalate her body’s nervous energy.
“How long did it take him to tell you what happened?” Y/n asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“Ah, the full story?” Tommy said, shaking his head slightly, “All I heard when I got back from patrol was you two had broken up. I finally got it all pieced together after about two years. Gave him hell for it too.”
Y/n’s smile was filled with frustration, she threw back the last of her whiskey.
“I looked for you,” Tommy said, reiterating what he’d said at the gate, “I mean, I combed every fuckin’ inch of that place tryin’ to find you. I wasn’t gonna leave you.”
“I know,” Y/n replied, slipping behind the counter to pour herself another glass, “I figured that out at some point. That you wouldn’t have gone along with that…”
Tommy watched Y/n’s face carefully, a new emotion covering the expanse every few seconds.
“You don’t actually believe what he said, do you?”
Y/n poured a shot of a random liquor, “Why shouldn’t I believe him?”
“C’mon,” Tommy turned to her, “He was out of his mind with grief, we all were. He wasn’t thinkin’ straight.”
“I’m sorry,” Y/n raised a hand to her head, “Are you defending him?”
“Hell no,” Tommy gave a firm shake of his head, “I’m tryin’ to make you understand that he lied. He was lying. He didn’t stop lovin’ you, he-“
“Stop,” Y/n forcefully set the bottle down on the counter, some of it spilling out the top, “Stop. I don’t want to hear it.”
Tommy settled down in his seat, unaware he’d lifted off it while talking.
“You have no idea what I went through after he left,” Y/n struggled, her voice threatening to cease up, “What I had to do…” she sniffled, unable to hide the tears, “And then he came back. He fucking came back, and I haven’t been able to escape him for three months.”
Staying silent and still, Tommy allowed her the space to purge everything out of her system.
“And now we’re here,” Y/n gestured around them, her voice growing watery, “And it’s so fucking beautiful, I could cry. Look at me, I am,” she paused, squirming under the pressure of the sob building within her, “And it’s killing me. It’s killing me. To be here, to see you, to see all that…”
Y/n ran a hand through her hair, leaning against the counter. All that they could have had.
“I can’t,” Y/n held up a shaking hand, “I can’t…be near him right now. Because all I see is her, is us…and it’s fucking breaking me.”
Tommy looked down at his glass, wondering whether or not he was about to push too far. “That doesn’t sound like hate to me.”
Y/n’s bottom lip trembled, she knew exactly what it was. And she’d have rather died than admit it.
“Well, it needs to be,” she whispered.
——————
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#joel miller x reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fic#the last of us imagine#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fanfic#twenty years later
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hiii i know you don’t write smut but i don’t think this falls under smut? but if it’s uncomfortable to write about please ignore!!
billy with reader who only feels loved when she sexualizes herself and how he would kinda comfort her about that. like maybe he comes home and shes all perfect for him even though deep down shes having a bad day and just wants to cry and he’s just like im not here for any of that stuff im here for you.
꣑ৎ౨ৎbilly when you feel like you have to sexualize yourself꣑ৎ౨ৎ fem reader x billy the kid
Wrung dry from the day's demands, you collapsed into the kitchen chair, fanning a hand over your eyes and taking in a deep breath. The memories of earlier were frozen solid to you like icicles in the winter, and you were trying to melt them, let the water flow through the stream of your mind elsewhere.
To your dismay, it was fruitless.
It felt as though nothing could go right. You woke up an hour later than you had wanted, which had set you back on chores. When you tugged your dress on, there had been a sickening tear that announced a new absence of stitches under your arm. The porch outside that needed sweeping had been littered with cobwebs that caught the bristles of your broom and made you shudder at the texture. And on your way down to the garden you had tripped on a loose board poking from the steps, skinning your knee bloody on the way down.
Holding back tears, you continued and tried to find a silver lining. One of your tomato plants was blooming beautifully, although the rest had been consumed by pests. You had been able to finish your chores, although it was now almost sunset and you'd had to start supper late.
Soup was boiling on the stove, and you hesitantly rose to peer into the pot. Just about done. Billy would be happy to have a hot meal when he came home.
Billy would be home soon. Your eyes widened and you rushed down the hall to the washroom, where a little mirror was positioned over the sink. Looking at your reflection, you nearly cried. The day's events had indeed taken a toll on you. Pinching your cheeks, you reached for your brush and combed it through your messy hair. The tangles pulled at your scalp and you winced slightly, pushing through.
In order to finish your chores in a timely manner you hadn't bothered to swap out your torn dress, and now you debated quickly rifling through your collection to change it. But when the familiar sound of heavy bootsteps on the porch graced your ears, you disregarded it, deciding to keep your arms down.
The door swung open, a creak announcing Billy's arrival. You plastered a sweet smile to your face and took in a deep breath. Be his girl.
Instantly when you saw him some of the tension melted away. He set his hat on the wall hook, unfastening his gun belt and slinging it over the chair by the door. When he saw you, a broad smile lightened his face, and he held his arms out. "There she is."
You ran to him, throwing your arms around his neck and letting him lift you off your feet. It took all but two seconds for you to remember your dress and you winced but moved on. Billy buried his face in your neck, pressing a kiss there that made you giggle. "Been missin' my girl all day."
"I missed you too," you murmured, ignoring the way his gentle touch made you want to cry. There wasn't any way you would dream of telling Billy about your train wreck of a day. Not when he was out risking life and liberty under the watchful eye of the law. Your problems paled in comparison.
The least you could do was give him something nice to come home to. Whether it be kisses or your bare body later.
With that in mind, you pulled back and nudged his nose with yours, making him smile before you caught his lips in a kiss. He obliged eagerly, shifting you so he was holding your thighs up, his hips between them. You pushed down any feelings of negative variety, focusing on the kiss. He needed to feel good. That was your priority.
Billy broke the kiss, giving you a fond look. "It smells good, didja make somethin'?"
Nodding, you kept your smile pressed in place. "It's on the stove."
"Ah!" He set you down, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side, smacking a kiss on your forehead. "You'll turn me into a kept man, darlin'." As he pulled you into the kitchen, you felt as though you were batting away your feelings with a stick. They kept rebounding, but you were able to keep them at bay.
Dinner was a painful affair. If it hadn't been Billy sitting across from you there was a more than likely chance you would have broken into pieces. He chattered about his day, grinning broadly at you through mouthfuls of soup.
Inside you were boiling, about to spill over. The sunset was a brilliant orange through the window, and you stared at it for a moment, getting lost in the stark fall color painted on the cerulean sky. The same blue as his eyes. You breathed in once, frustrated at yourself. Why were you still upset? Billy was home, it was all okay.
Even though you told yourself this over and over, the feeling did not dissipate. And you stayed quiet, nodding at what Billy was saying absentmindedly.
It was only when you realized he had stopped talking that you looked back at him, eyes wide. His brow was knitted, and you chided yourself. You stopped paying attention and now he's worried. He shouldn't have to be worried because of you.
"You okay, angel?" Billy reached for your hand, squeezing the fingers.
"Yes." You nodded, pasting the smile back on. "Yes, I'm fine. Everything is fine."
He didn't look convinced, and you panicked, standing up and going to him. Slotting yourself between his legs, you took his face in your hands and brushed some of his hair back, searching his eyes. Billy gazed up at you, blue eyes showing nothing short of devotion. You internally breathed a sigh of relief. He loved you. He still loved you.
Billy's hands found your waist, and he pulled you down to sit on his thigh, legs tucked primly between his. He watched you for a moment, fingers stroking your sides. You felt a jolt of anxiety, worried that he was worrying.
Leaning in, you kissed him soundly, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. His stubble prickled your skin, and you pressed your chest to his, making him grunt. One of Billy's hands found your lower back, pushing you into him. Your mind calmed just slightly at that; thankful he still wanted you.
Taking his other hand, you used it to cover one of your breasts, lips moving fluently. Billy paused, nuzzling your nose before he dove back in. You shifted on his lap so you were straddling him, your movements methodical. The feeling of dread was mounting in your chest, as if there were a solid mass poking your ribs.
You tried to ignore it. But before you could stop, a choked breath escaped your lips, and you pulled back, chest heaving as your eyes fell to his shoulder. In an instant Billy's hands were on your waist, rubbing carefully. "Sweetheart?"
The tenderness in which he delivered the name sparked tears in your eyes, and you refused to look at him, nodding hastily. "Yes. Yes, everything's fine. I'm fine, I'm-" your breath hitched, and you blinked rapidly, risking a glance at him.
Billy was frowning, eyes brimming with concern. He moved his hands soothingly on your waist. "Baby...what'sa matter?"
"Nothing." You leaned back in and kissed him. His lips nudged yours, but his expression didn't change, eyes not closing. You grew tense with anxiety again, taking his face in your hands and kissing his nose. Then his lips again. Billy remained looking at you.
It wasn't working. You reached for his hand, tried to position it on your breast again, but he lifted it to your face, settling his palm on your cheek. The way he was watching you made you want to crawl into a hole and bury yourself alive. He thumbed your temple, looking at you like you were a code he wanted to break. When he spoke, it was a single word. "Angel." You swallowed, and he continued. "Angel, what'sa matter?"
"You wanted to..." you tried once more to put his hand on your breast. But he shook his head and repositioned it on your face, causing your cheeks to fill with color.
"Not if you're not feelin' good, sweetheart." The way he said it only dug a deeper chasm inside you. Guilt overwhelmed your senses as you figured you had done something wrong.
That was when you broke. The dam all but crumbled, and your cheeks flooded with the tears you'd been wanting to shed all day. You hid your face in your hands, too ashamed to look at him. "I'm f-ine."
He was pulling you in now, hand on your crown carefully guiding your face to his shoulder. Billy held you tight to him, and you broke down, shivering between his arms.
"Shh," he soothed, rocking back and forth. "Deep breaths, honey. Deep breaths. I've gotcha. It's okay." Billy traced shapes into your back, noting when you untensed. "There you go. Atta girl."
You kept your head where it was, almost hiding from him. Against his shirt, your cheeks flushed with humiliation. He was never meant to see you like this. The thought was what made you sit up fully, hurriedly wiping your eyes and avoiding his. "I'm sorry, I'm-"
"'s okay...sweetie..." Billy squeezed your sides gently. "Nothin' to say sorry for. What happened?"
"Just had a bad day." You waved a hand, setting it on his chest alongside your other one. Rubbing him there slightly, you tried to smile. "I'm okay."
"Hey-" Billy's hands framed your cheeks, and you stopped, worried you'd done something wrong. He held you still for a moment, letting the silence fill the air. Then, quietly, "'s okay to have a bad day. You can tell me."
You felt something pinch inside of you, brushing your bones with words you'd never been told before. Billy furthered it, saying, "Baby...you don't have to pretend it's okay."
Now you were stripped bare in front of him, down to the core. Billy smoothed your hair, tucking some behind your ears. Your bottom lip trembled, and he hushed you gently, rubbing your back. "Why don't you go lay down for a minute, hm? And I can clean up here?"
You began to protest, but he shook his head, tilting his head to press a kiss to your temple. "Go get ready for bed, mkay? I'll be along."
Shamefully, you let him stand you up, sending you off with a kiss to your hairline. You tearfully prepared yourself for bed, removing your torn dress and setting it aside for mending, donning a nightdress and getting under the covers, lying on your side and shutting your eyes.
Billy joined you in practically no time, the sounds of him removing his work clothes and setting his boots aside evident. When he pulled the covers back and rested a gentle hand on your hip, you turned into him, nuzzling against his bare chest. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.
As he held you, the feeling that you had been shoving at all day began to melt. And when you opened your eyes, he was already looking down at you, face calm as you began to relax. Billy pressed his lips to your hair, sheltering you in his arms. When he spoke, it was softly. "You don't have to worry 'bout bein' okay all the time. Don't want you to be hurtin' so bad 'n feel like you have to hide it." He swiped a thumb over your cheek. "Don't hide it."
You took in a shaky breath, burrowing into his arms. "I just wanna be happy for you. Make you feel good. You have so much to worry about."
"Honey-" Billy braced his hands on your cheeks, searching your eyes. He touched his lips to your nose, making you smile just a little. "Havin' one bad day doesn't make any difference. You're always so happy, my happy girl." He softened when you leaned into his palm. "'m not here to use you, sweetheart. I love you. 'm here for you."
"For me." you repeated it quietly, and he kissed your forehead, nodding.
"For you," he affirmed. "I love everything you give me because it's you."
Something warm was blooming in your heart. You breathed in once, suddenly understanding the magnitude of how much he really loved you. Somehow in all your time with him you'd never realized he was here to stay. A secret voice within had convinced you that it you weren't perfect he would use it to leave.
But Billy wasn't a man who tossed things aside. He'd been running all his life and now he wanted to stand still.
He wanted to stand still with you.
"I love you," he whispered, tucking your head under his chin. And for the first time you realized he wasn't saying it to fill the air.
It was a promise. one never to be broken.
As he brought you close so your ear touched the space over his heart, you felt that promise being fulfilled. You gave him devotion and so he would return it. Was that what love was? Looking up at Billy, you wondered to yourself, amazed at this new discovery.
You felt it in the way he watched you. He said it again, sparking something that felt like springtime in your heart. "I love you."
It soaked your tongue like sugar, a true smile sweeping away the dust your false ones left behind tonight.
"I love you too."
#billy the kid#billy the kid x reader#billy the kid fanfiction#billy the kid x you#billy the kid 2022#billy the kid imagine#billy the kid fic#billy the kid fluff#william h bonney x reader#william h bonney fanfiction#william h bonney x you#william h bonney imagine#tom blyth#billy bonney x reader#billy bonney#billy the kid tom blyth#milliesfishes billy
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practically begging for a drabble in the universe as as you wish where they finally get the place to themselves and don’t have to be quiet
You say drabble, @munson-blurbs and I write over 5k words. Please enjoy this little glimpse at what happened right after part one 🥰
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, m and f receiving, older!eddie, babysitter!reader, breeding kink
Words: 5.1k
[As You Wish masterlist]
Eating outside in February in Indiana wouldn’t be your first choice, but when your last class gets out after everyone else has had time to claim indoor spots to chow down, you’re forced to eat your lunch at the picnic table that’s getting most direct sunlight. At least you’d been able to grab a nice hot bowl of soup to keep you warm. The sun comes out from behind a cloud, and you think that maybe your luck is changing when you look up and see Peter strolling over to you.
“Not again,” you groan under your breath.
“Hey,” Peter says as he takes the seat opposite you. His smile looks genuine enough, but you know it’s hiding the smarmy intentions beneath.
“Hi,” you reply before shoving another spoonful of soup in your mouth.
“Aren’t you cold sitting out here?” Peter takes his hands out of his pockets and blows his hot breath on them.
No, I’m perfectly comfortable, you moron, you think to yourself. Peter is a nice enough guy, but ever since he started hounding you about why you wouldn’t go on a second date with him, he’d been insufferable. Why couldn’t he just let it go?
“A little,” you admit. “Couldn’t find a space inside.”
“My car is parked just over there,” Peter says, nodding his head in the direction of the parking lot to your left. “You can eat in there; I don’t mind.”
“No, thanks. I’m fine here.”
Peter sighs and tilts his head to the side as if he’s a confused puppy. “Why are you afraid to be alone with me?”
You almost choke on your latest sip of soup. “Afraid? I’m not afraid, Peter. I’m alone with you right now, aren’t I?”
Peter shrugs and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes.
“So, why no second date then?”
The moment the words leave his lips, you drop your spoon into your bowl with a clang and bring your hands up to rub over your face.
“Peter,” you say with a deep sigh, “we’ve been over this.”
“I just want a straight answer from you,” Peter says, as if this isn’t something you’ve already given him many times over.
“How about a list?” you snap, unable to hold back your frustration any longer. “You talk with your mouth full. You called nursing a ‘girl major.’ You stared at the waitress’s chest the entire time she was at our table. And when the people next to us started speaking Spanish, you mumbled something about learning to ‘speak American.’ Which, Uncle Sam, isn’t even a God damn language. So,” your voice is rising and attracting the attention of other students, but you couldn't care less, “if you would kindly fuck off, maybe you can leave with your testicles intact.”
With that, you gather your food and rush off to the nearest payphone. Your fingers, still slightly numb from the cold, dial the number as though on autopilot. To your utter relief, he picks up.
“Scott’s Auto Body, this is Eddie speaking.”
It’s been two days since you two hooked up, devouring each other carnally in his bed while his wife wasn’t home, and you were left unsure about how to proceed. Yes, Eddie had confessed that he had feelings for you–feelings much deeper than the lust that had consumed you that evening. But, as with anything, there were consequences to these actions. And what if the consequence was that he no longer wanted you around? That you only served as a painful reminder of the way he broke his marriage vows?
“Yo? Anyone there?”
You clear your throat, forcing yourself to speak into the receiver. “H-Hi. It’s me.” You bite your lower lip and cringe. Me? How the hell is he supposed to know who ‘me’ is?
“Hey,” Eddie says, and you could swear there’s relief flooding his tone. “How are you?”
The concern in his voice mixed with the fact that he knew it was you simply by a stuttering greeting has you flustered and gripping the phone even tighter.
“I’m okay,” you manage. There’s a beat of silence before Eddie replies.
“Are you?”
“Do you remember that time you told me if I, uh, wanted to bail on something, or…”
“Is someone bothering you?” His tone is firm but kind and it reminds you all over again of why you fell for him.
“More annoying than anything,” you admit.
“Is it that prick you went on a date with months ago?”
Did you mention that recently? Or did Eddie remember that from when you told him a few weeks back?
“Unfortunately,” you say.
Eddie sighs. “Jesus, take the hint, pal.”
“Oh, he’s had more than hints,” you tell him. “He’s been given very direct answers multiple times.”
The only sound that comes from the other end is the faint banging and scraping from the garage. You lick over your cold, chapped lips as you wait for him to say something.
“Where are you?” he finally asks.
“Having lunch on campus. It was peaceful at first.”
This time there’s no silence as Eddie quickly shoots back with, “Do you want me to come get you?”
“Only if you’re on your lunch break. I’ll even buy you something to eat,” you offer. “What are you in the mood for?”
“You.”
The answer and how he gave it so immediately has your face burning despite the bitter breeze blowing outside. You shuffle your boots on the ground and take a self-conscious glance around, as if someone could hear what he just said to you.
“Eddie,” you lightly admonish.
“Love when you say my name.” The way he clears his throat after the admission has you wondering if he meant to say it aloud at all. It gives you butterflies either way. “Be there in twenty, pretty thing.”
Before Eddie gets there, you grab two sandwiches for you to split. To save yourself any possible embarrassment, you pretend that Eddie’s infectious grin is more for the food than it is for you.
It’s more difficult to do this when roaming eyes accompany his smile; the chocolate hues soaking in every last millimeter of your body. “Hi,” he murmurs, reaching over to help you with your seatbelt. You don’t need any assistance, and he knows this, too, but it grants him the opportunity to brush his fingers against yours.
“Where to?” he asks, unwrapping his sandwich from the thin plastic covering and taking a bite. The nickname ‘baby,’ is on the tip of his tongue, but he has to hold back. At least until the two of you figure out what the fuck is going on.
“Home, please,” you say softly, tearing off a piece of your own PB&J. You silently curse yourself for getting such a childish sandwich, but considering the way Eddie’s practically inhaling his, he doesn’t appear to be bothered.
He’s only driven a few blocks when he breaks the awkward silence, leaping right onto the back of the elephant in the room. Or car, rather.
“So, um, about what happened on Saturday,” Eddie starts, but you quickly cut him off.
“I know…you’re married.” You lower your head, too heavy with shame. He’s going to say that I shouldn’t babysit the boys anymore. He’s going to call it all a huge mistake. “It never should have happened.”
You feel your head move slightly as Eddie takes his forefinger and turns your chin to face him. “But it did. And I’m not mad about it.” His voice is firm, confident…it’s something you’ve never witnessed before when he’s talking to his horrible wife.
“…you’re not?”
Eddie shakes his head with a small smile, unable to hide his amusement at your obvious surprise. “Not even close. I’m only mad that we can’t, y’know, actually be together.” His hands grip the steering wheel tighter as he says it; it can’t be a coincidence.
But we can, you think, pressing your lips together in an effort to silence yourself, just leave her and be with me.
Instead, you nod and mumble, “I know.” You take another small bite of the sandwich, hoping the sticky peanut butter will glue your tongue to the roof of your mouth and keep you from saying something stupid and clingy.
Eddie looks at you with wide eyes. “Do you…do you regret it?”
It’s a loaded question. Do you regret letting Eddie Munson fuck you in his marriage bed—the one he shared with his wife—splitting you open while moaning about how good you felt? Not at all. Do you regret that it stirred up feelings that can’t be reciprocated because of his marital status? Absolutely.
“No, I just wish…” you trail off, forgoing your original thought, lest it sound like an ultimatum. Instead, you pose a question of your own. “Saturday night, when you told me you cared about me…how did you mean that?”
He sighs, coming to a complete stop at the stop sign. Throwing the car in park, he turns to you with a look of longing and desire.
“Like this.” Eddie leans in and kisses you, tucking his upper lip under yours. His hand caresses your cheek, and he finishes it off with a soft bite to the plush of your lower lip.
The honk of an irritated driver snaps you both from your passionate stupor, and Eddie uses his right hand to shift gears and his left to give a one-finger wave. You assume that that’s the end of the conversation until he speaks again.
“I’ve cared about you since I saw how great you were with my kids,” he admits. “Tried to convince myself that it was just because, y’know, if something happened to you, it would affect them, but…”
“But?”
“But it was so much fuckin’ more than that.” He doesn’t have enough time to list all the ways he cares about you, the ways he dreams of loving and protecting you. “And now that I really know you, shit, I can’t imagine a world without you in it.”
Eddie stops the car again, ignoring the angered shouting of the person in the vehicle behind you as he turns on the flashers. Before you can open your mouth to ask what he’s doing, his lips are on yours again. His large hands cup your face, the callouses giving you goosebumps as they glide over the soft skin of your cheeks. The butterflies in your stomach seem to float up into your head as you feel lightheaded when the two of you separate.
Not wanting to truly bring that wall down and let him see just how much this is affecting you, you attempt to play it cool—hide how flustered his tender kiss has you.
“And, uh,” you say, clearing your throat before you continue, “what you said about wanting to hear the noises I make…?”
Immediately, Eddie’s eyes darken, and it ignites a fire in your otherwise cold body. He leans in towards you and his voice is low and silky as he says, “I wanted to hear every. Single. Sound.”
It’s getting more difficult by the second to restrain yourself when he makes you want to climb into his lap right then and there.
“And do you? Do you, um, still want it?”
A groan comes from deep in his throat as his eyes never leave yours. “So fucking bad, baby.”
The intense hunger his eyes hold almost has you snapping and throwing yourself at him, but you manage to hold onto that last single thread of restraint you have. Instead, you figure this would be better in a place that isn’t being invaded by the frigid air or when anyone could look in at you two since you’re still in the middle of the road.
“Is anyone at your house?”
Instead of giving you an answer, Eddie puts the truck into drive and presses down on the gas pedal so hard that you think it will fall through the floor of the car. The sudden speed has you pressed to the back of your seat, and you laugh at how impatient he is to get you back to his place.
“Fuck, I love that laugh,” Eddie mumbles more to himself than you.
When you get to the house, it’s so hard not to tear into one another on your way to the front door—even with the biting chill in the air. But there are neighbors and the last thing that needs to happen is someone assuming anything is going on between Eddie and the babysitter and make Brittany out to be some kind of martyr.
As soon as the door is closed behind you though, Eddie has his chest pressed up against your back, his warmth seeping into you.
“Fuck, baby, I don’t know where to touch you first,” he growls in your ear.
“How about…here.” You reach down for his hands and bring them under your shirt. Sliding them up your tummy, you settle his palms right on your breasts. There’s a big goofy grin on Eddie’s face as he gently squeezes at the bra-covered flesh.
“Love these, sweet girl.”
Closing your eyes, you let your head drop back against Eddie’s shoulder as he fondles you.
“You have any idea how many times I thought about your hands on me like this? And other ways?” you ask, your breath bitching when his thumb brushes over your nipple.
“And what about your hands on me?” Eddie asks before pressing hot kisses against the side of your neck.
“Mmm, thought about that too,” you admit. “But I mostly thought about my mouth on you.” You unzip his coveralls and drop to your knees, pushing his boxers down so you can take him in. Precum pearls at the tip of his cock, threatening to drip down the shaft along the thick vein that runs through it.
You wrap your hand around the base, giving kitten licks to his leaking slit.
“Don’t tease me, please,” Eddie whines, cupping his own balls briefly just for the extra sensation.
You move them out of the way, settling in a bit more. “You mean like this?” you ask salaciously, pressing little kisses along the underside of his erection before sliding your tongue along it.
The man whimpers like a damn puppy, clenching his fists and flexing his thighs in a feeble attempt to hang onto his sanity.
“O-Okay, yeah, please, fuuuuuck,” he groans as you take all of him into your mouth. His legs twitch, and his knees nearly buckle and have him crumpling to the ground. “Yeah, right there…shit, thas’ perfect.”
Eddie’s pretty moans encourage you each time you bob your head and envelop him in the warmth of your mouth again. One of his hands rests gently on the top of your head; not grabbing or forcing, simply resting there as if he needs to be touching you in every possible way that he can.
“Christ,” Eddie says with labored breath as he looks down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. “I’ve imagined those pretty lips wrapped around m-my cock so many times. But fuck…nothing beats the actual sight of it. Love watching as I disappear inside your sweet little mouth.”
His words have you moaning around his cock, sending delicious vibrations throughout his body. It’s enough to have him teetering on the edge. The hand that isn’t resting in your hair comes up and rubs over his face as he drops his head back and stares at the ceiling with unfocused eyes. Whimpers spill from Eddie’s lips like a prayer, and you start to move your head faster, trying to let your jaw hang looser.
“Shit, baby,” Eddie manages through panting breaths, “I-I’m not gonna last.”
Keeping up your motions, not pausing for a moment, you moan around him to let him know what you want. You’ve dreamt — both daydreams and sleeping dreams — about him finishing inside your mouth and you need it to come true.
“Yeah?” Eddie asks. Another moan around his throbbing dick is how you deign to respond. “So close, princess. Being such a good girl for me—shit. My sweet girl has such a sinful tongue.”
His words have you practically dripping, and you need nothing more than for Eddie to peel your soaked panties off of you. One of your hands slides up and cups his balls, which has him practically keeling over.
“Fuck! Babe, I’m gonna—I’m gonna, shit, I’m cumming.”
Eddie’s warm release fills your mouth, and the tangy taste is like heaven on your tongue. You make sure to milk him for everything that he’s got before you pull off and swallow it all. A little bit dribbles down the side of your mouth, but you catch it with your thumb and pop it into your mouth, making sure to get every last drop.
“Holy shit,” Eddie says, trying to catch his breath. “C’mere.” He tosses his coveralls and boxers aside and helps you off your knees and into the bedroom. “Show me that perfect fuckin’ body of yours.”
Anyone else ever saying that to you in your life would make you self-conscious and be tempted to hide yourself. But Eddie makes you feel safe and desired in a way you never thought possible. He wants to see you like this. It’s a dizzying thought.
You comply, heat blooming up your body towards your face as his gaze is trained on you while he makes himself comfortable up against the headboard. Every little movement, his eyes track it. It’s like you stripping down bare is a class he has to take and he’s the most studious student there ever was. By the time you’re slipping off the last offending item—your drenched panties—you’ve already forgotten that the heap of your clothes is there at the foot of the bed.
Crawling up the mattress to him, you’re about to straddle his waist when he shakes his head. He scoots down a bit so his head is resting flat against his pillow.
“Want you to ride my face, sweet girl.”
The request catches you by surprise and you can’t help the pinch that forms on your brow.
“Are you sure?”
Instead of a sexy or witty remark, Eddie looks you dead in the eye so you know how serious he’s being. “If you don’t sit on my face right now, I will die.”
Leave it to Eddie to bring the theatrics into the bed with you. Still, you give him a skeptical look as you raise an eyebrow.
“You might die if I do,” you say.
“Bullshit,” Eddie says as he reaches for you. Despite your reluctance, you let him pull you up higher towards his mouth. Eddie knows you though and can tell there’s something else you want to say. He looks at you imploringly, doe eyes blinking up at you.
“No one’s ever even eaten me out before you did,” you admit. It surprises Eddie, but he puts a pin in that for later—right now he really needs you to sit on his face.
“Well, let me show you what you’ve been missing out on, babe.” He gently tugs you up so that your pussy is hovering over his mouth. “Now, I’m gonna eat you out, and I need to hear your beautiful noises, yeah?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fuck,” he moans as he wraps his hands around your thighs and lowers you onto his lips. His tongue glides through your folds and fucks in and out of your hole. You seize the opportunity to grind your exposed clit against his nose.
“Eddie, feels s’good,” you whimper.
Eddie moves away for a second, and you frown at the loss of sensation. “I know you can be louder than that,” he grins before resuming his previous position.
Nerves flood your body. You’re not used to being loud during sex; no guy before Eddie had even given you that urge. You will yourself to relax and let him take care of you, your hands gripping the headboard as you ride his face.
“Yes, Eddie! Holy fucking shit,” you cry out, feeling his hold on your thighs tighten. “You’re gonna make me cum all over your face.”
Eddie just gives a muffled hum of approval, moving his tongue but keeping his head still so you can keep rhythmically pressing your clit against his nose. His tongue is magic, fucking in and out of you like he can’t get enough.
Your release hits you hard, and you lean back to brace your hands on his thighs as you ride out your high, practically screaming your moans loud enough for Peter to hear back on campus. Ironic that his persistence for a second date drove you into the arms—and bed—of another man.
You keep whimpering “Eddie” over and over again as you come down, a pathetic little mewl that has him melting. He gently lays you on the bed and hovers over your gorgeous body, pressing kisses to your lips, smearing them with your own slick.
“Love how you say my name, sweetheart,” he murmurs, a slight growl in his voice. “Also love how you taste.”
The word “love” plays on a loop in your head. You want to hear him say it about you. You want him to make love to you, not just fuck you. Could that fantasy ever come to fruition?
The touch of Eddie’s hand on yours interrupts your longing thoughts. He brings your palm to his cock, and you instinctively wrap your fingers around the hardened length.
“Got me hard again, baby,” Eddie hisses, “like a damn teenager or somethin’.”
You can’t hold back any longer, and the words spill out of you. “Inside me, Eddie,” you plead. “Please.”
“You don’t have to beg, but I’d be lying if I said I hated it.” He smirks, watching as your hand glides up and down his erection. He hasn’t been this turned on since…well, since he came home to you wearing his clothes two nights ago.
“Please, need you inside me, wanna feel how nice you fill me up.” You open your legs wider, and Eddie situates himself between them. Your pussy clenches around nothing, desperate for some friction.
He’s got one hand on your right breast, the other holds his cock. “Ready for me?”
“Yes, yes, God yes.”
You feel him push into you, and you instinctively arch your back. His calloused hands slide around your waist as he gives slow, gentle thrusts until bottoming out.
“How’s that? Y’good?”
“So, so good.”
His thrusts get deeper and more intentional, and he grins when he hears the small moans escaping your lips.
“E-Eddie?” Your voice is a strong whisper; it’s all you can manage with the way he’s pounding into you.
“Yes, princess?” A shiver snakes its way down your spine at the nickname. Princess. You’re Eddie’s princess.
You stumble over your words, flustered by the new pet name and anxious about how your next request will be received. “Can you, um, say what you said the other night?”
Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion as his hips keep a steady pace, unruly thatch of pubic hair deliciously grazing your clit. “I said a lot the other night, baby,” he chuckles. “You’ll have to be, uh, a little more specific.”
You try and push away the embarrassment, reminding yourself that you’re safe with Eddie. “When you said y-you were going to fill me so good and knock m-me up,” you try again, squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation of a bad reaction.
Eddie groans and gives an involuntary hard thrust of his hips. “Holy shit, you’re telling me you like that?” He throws his head back when you nod. “Fuck, baby girl, you have no idea how hot that is to me.”
“So hot,” you agree with another feeble nod of your head.
Eddie grips your waist and flips the two of you so he’s leaning back against the headboard and you’re in his lap. “Shit, Princess. You want my babies, huh? Want me to fill you with my cum, huh? Won’t let any drip out of you, gotta keep it all in there.”
Your eyes practically roll back in your head. All you want is his babies, to walk around with a swell to your belly because Eddie Munson fucked you until he got you pregnant.
“That’s it,” he continues through gritted teeth, “I know you can take it. Such a good girl, wanting all of my cum.”
“Y-Yes, Mr. Munson,” you whimper pathetically, “I’m your good girl.”
Mr. Munson has his brain short-circuiting, and his hips snap upwards at a rapid pace. He wants this to last forever, but the way you look and feel has him on the edge of release once more.
“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum. Call me ‘Mr. Munson’ again, baby,” Eddie pleads, pupils blown wide as he begs to hear your beautiful voice.
“Mmm, want your babies, Mr. Munson!” You watch as he throws his head back at the sound of your moans, keeping his frantic pace. “Ri-Right there! Yes, yes, yes!”
The two of you come down from your highs together, you slumped against his chest and his hands resting on your bare back.
“M’pretty sure that’s the best sex I’ve ever had,” Eddie finally manages through heaving breaths.
You peek up at him with incredulous eyes. “Really?”
“Hell fuckin’ yes.” He leans down and presses soft kisses along the expanse of your neck. “Everything about you turns me on so ridiculously much. It’s insane. The more I learn about you, the hotter you get.”
You grin to yourself and nuzzle your head against his chest. “Was the best for me, too,” you admit.
“Yeah?” Eddie cocks an eyebrow in disbelief. There’s no way he can compete with the younger guys throwing themselves at you…is there?
“Are you kidding?” You look up at him with a shy smile. “All you have to do is look at me and I get wet.”
“Good to know,” Eddie says with a playful smirk. He turns away for a moment before whipping his head back around, peering at you dramatically. “How ‘bout now?”
You press your lips to his in what’s supposed to be a romantic kiss, but your smiles get in the way.
“Hey, uh, did you…” he starts, clears his throat, and then tries again. “Was I really the first guy to eat you out?”
You nod, downcasting your eyes in embarrassment. “No one ever offered, but I never asked or anything, so…”
Eddie takes your chin in his hand and pulls your gaze back to him. “You never have to ask me,” he murmurs, nudging his nose against yours. “I love being able to make you feel good. If I ever turn down eating your pussy, call an ambulance, because I clearly need medical attention.”
Giggling, you go to rest your head on his shoulder when you catch sight of the clock on his bedside table. “Oh, I have to go get the boys,” you say, trying not to sound too disappointed.
“Pretty sure we left a trail of clothes around the house. You go get the troublemakers; I’ll clean up.”
You nod and lean up to press a tender kiss to his lips. He cups your face in his hands and just stares. “Don’t want to let you go,” he murmurs, just short of a whine.
“I won’t be long,” you whisper against his lips.
“Hurry back,” he calls out dramatically, but he’s only half-joking. All he wants is you in his bed, tangled in the sheets, touching each other like you’ll never get enough.
You reach for your purse and dig out your keys. “Wait, I don’t have my car. You picked me up from campus.”
“Take my truck, baby,” Eddie offers, taking his own set of keys from the coveralls laying on the ground and tossing them to you. “We can take the kids to the park or something then the Munson men will bring you back to your car.”
“Such gentlemen.” You giggle when Eddie bows, still fully naked.
It feels like a scavenger hunt to find all the articles of clothing you’d shed, but you’re finally able to get dressed and dart out of the house to pick up Ryan and Luke from school.
When you return back, small Munsons in tow, the scent of just-fried bacon wafts past your nostrils.
“That is the best smell in the world,” Luke declares. He walks towards the kitchen as if he’s in a trance.
You follow behind him and Ryan and see Eddie washing a frying pan out in the sink.
“Daddy!” Luke clings to Eddie’s hips, surprised to see his dad home early. He squeezes him tight, and Eddie has to swallow his emotions before turning around to greet him.
“Hey, buddy.” He drops the pan and sponge in the sink and scoops Luke up and presses a kiss to his head, then ruffles Ryan’s hair.
“Bacon smells good,” Ryan says, peering at the counter where the strips lay on oil-soaked Bounty sheets.
“Thought it could be a snack for the ride to the park. How’s that sound?” Eddie asks, already knowing the answer.
Both boys cheer, with Luke breaking out into some sort of kung-fu inspired happy dance. His little feet shuffle back and forth along the kitchen tile while his little hands punch the air.
Eddie just laughs and tells his sons, “Go change out of your school clothes and grab your heavy coats.”
Once they’re out of the kitchen, you raise an eyebrow at Eddie and speak softly to him. “Hungry after such a vigorous workout?”
“A little.” He chuckles and gives a shrug. “But really, I was paranoid that it would smell like sex in here.”
You giggle and cover your mouth, worried that you’re too loud. The last thing you need is for the boys to ask what’s so funny.
“You’re so fucking cute,” he whispers, kissing just under your earlobe.
Ryan and Luke come back into the kitchen before you can respond, so you just stand there flustered. It goes unnoticed, since the boys ramble on as the food gets packed up, sneakers are tied, and doors are locked.
“This is the best day ever!” Luke announces, opening the car door and climbing into his booster seat.
“I agree.” Eddie throws a wink in your direction, and your stomach does a flip as you buckle your seatbelt.
Maybe there is more than just lust between you and Mr. Munson.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#older!eddie#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fan fiction#request#AYW#AYWS
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I find it very unfortunate that most people have a very romantic, heroic and “male” view of revolution or activism. Most people imagine it as sudden, loud, violent, glorious, public sacrifice and bleeding in the street. You think of protest and you think of destruction of property, bonfires and gas masks. It is sometimes, big and large donations. These can lead to change, but they oftentimes risk being performative.
Revolution and protest, I think, are actually very quiet affairs. Revolution is reading and learning to deconstruct culture and human behavior. Your own mind, where the colonization happens. I think Revolution happens in the daily choices of what we choose to consume. When people live their lives as protest rather than wait for a big moment. I think boycotting shouldn’t simply be about getting companies to bend the knee. It should be about divesting from an entire industry of exploitation. Our way of life should change. Revolution is us changing. Changing our minds and choices. And living in such a way that we create a community, however small, of different living. Where we buy each other’s soaps and wooden spoons and rely on each other’s expertise instead of buying a subscription (and I’m generalizing here I am aware bc activism must be intersectional to be effective). It is far more impactful that I stop consuming dairy for a lifetime than that I starve myself for a month in protest. It is far more costly to these corporations and to the status quo that I alter my life.
Men’s idea of glory is dying for their beliefs. That is the predominant narrative of heroism. Everyone dies. But living in accordance to your principles? Living as radically as possible? That’s rare and that takes a whole lot of work. An entire lifetime of boycotting is far more destructive to these systems than simply punishing yourself or putting pressure on others in the heat of a mob. It is far more revolutionary to think the forbidden thoughts and so do the uncommon thing. By living this way, we open a door for a new way of living for others. And when we create a new system of living as a community, we set up pillars here and there that will eventually hold up the future we are trying to build. It takes longer. The best works of art take longer. Quality takes more time and focus than quantity, and too many of us are worried about the quantity (how many people can we get to post the black square) rather than quality (how do my decisions impact those around me and how can I use that?).
I think that’s why so many of you look down on things like separatism and veganism. It is less sensational and more (at least in perception) inconvenient. But I have contributed to the environment way more by not eating meat than I would by donating thousands of dollars to green charities. And the reason I am vegan is because other vegans helped me integrate into that lifestyle. They “socialized” me so to speak. Separatism socializes women and men, too. Women separating socializes future policy makers and little girls that would have otherwise (likely) ended up in abusive relationships. It’s not glamorous: does that make it less impactful?
I think revolutionaries are not the ones that merely give a nice speech for the newspapers or volunteer (I am NOT saying volunteering is not worthy or valuable activism). Rather I think revolutionaries are the ones who are willing to change how they think and how they live first. I think the greatest thing a person can give to their causes is their entire life. Not money. Not suffering. Not a few days in the soup kitchen. Their entire way of living. Their consumption habits and their civic activities. Their intentionality in interpersonal relationships.
I think that’s how anything’s ever gotten better in the first place.
#radblr#feminism#mine#and this is not to say separatism means discarding male Allie’s#I think not marrying or cohabiting with men does not stop us from organizing other forms of protest with them#anyway#revolution#politics#veganism#environmentalism#separatism
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limbo (part 2)
synopsis: you weren't expecting to meet him again but maybe the influx of memories can help you piece what exactly had happened that fateful night five years ago
pairing: non-idol!minho x non-idol!fem reader
genre: angst, exes to lovers, heart break
warning: mentions of eating a drinking. heart break and swearing. just general warnings. pls lmk if i have missed anything!
word count: 3.2k words
a/n: here is part 2 of my baby, i do suggest reading part 1 though. pls leave you comments and do reblog. part 3 coming soon!
part 1 | masterlist | part 3
now (present day).
You were quite proud of yourself for how you handled the situation.
You stood there staring at Minho for a beat longer than you should have. You were taking him in, all of him. How could someone look this way? He looked like God had favorites, as if the most skilled angles had carved him out of the finest marble.
You stood there and stared and broke a little inside. Then, you swiftly turned around, checked out whatever you needed to, and started to walk to your car. After that you sat in your car, scoffing at your luck.
"The universe really is playing a cosmic joke on me, isn't it?" you mused.
And then here you were now, curled up in front of the TV with a streaming bowl of chicken noodle soup, watching rom-coms with happy endings to dull the fact that you didn't have one. You were grateful though; a happy ending was still an ending. You had so much more to write in your story.
Spending five years abroad had changed you. You weren't sure if it was for the better or worse, but it was certainly something. You had made friendships that you cherished and explored things you never had. You attempted to get into the romance side of things, but just never felt like you had met the right person. Part of you chalked it up to your extremely high standards (ah, the curse of being an avid consumer of cheesy media). Another part of you knew that it was Minho's reaction to you leaving.
He was your first love, your first... everything you could say, when it came to romantic relationships. To find out that he had never even loved you in the first place was a devastating revelation. It had been ingrained into your head that you were unlovable, that you were so pitiful that a man had to pretend to love in order to not hurt your feelings.
You did blame Minho because, after all, you were only human. However, you knew that you weren't the easiest to handle five years ago either. Old you was sensitive to nearly everything. You had a tendency to plunge into things without thinking about any of the consequences affecting you or anybody else involved, and that included falling in love with Lee Minho.
Your phone buzzed beside you and you opened it up with a smile on your face.
[1:47 PM]
hyune bun: BITCH YOU'RE HOME WAGHTHDHDJ?!?!
hyune bun: and i had to find out from your ex, the same one who caused you to come to me crying???
you: good fucking afternoon to you too hyune
you: it was supposed to be a surprise, hehe...
you: about the minho thing...
hyune bun: dw, he told me
hyune bun: a surprise bitch stfu you probably forgot about me -_-
you: damn okay drama queen
hyune bun: lix is gonna be so fucking mad at you lmaooo
You were nearly grinning at your phone now, texting one of your closest friends from college. It took you back to the good old days, when you weren't quite an adult nor a child. You and your friends lived in a balance of freedom and restrictions that you longed for. It took you back the the crazy stunts, exhausting days and wild nights, and since your brain had a habit to redirect to Minho, it reminded you of him.
then (seven years ago).
You weren't quite sure how you, Hyunjin and Felix came to be friends. It did make sense in some ways though. You were just a year older than them, and despite being in your second year of college, just as far from 'put together' as possible. You assumed it was the first astronomy class that you had attended since the school had began.
Since it was a fairly new course, both first years and second years were put in the same class. As a science major yourself, you didn't see it as much of a burden. Having dropped biology as an extra course from the year before, you had made the slightly dangerous choice (as you would come to know from an extremely difficult course load) to stick with physics and mathematics.
Space was always a fascination for you. From the stars to the moon, everything just wholly and completely enamored you. You were excited, if anything, for the class to begin. Your sentiments, however, were not widely shared among your classmates. It was common knowledge that a lot of the art majors just took an extra side course related to science to keep their families' mouths shut for a semester or two. The Asian parent stereotypes were very much true in this side of your world.
That was evident when you saw two adorable first years looking for a seat. They looked like they were positively dreading the idea of being in this class. You couldn't blame them. Everything about them screamed 'doesn't do well with numbers'. Literally. The taller boy was wearing a literal shirt that said that exact phrase. The slightly shorter one saw you eyeing them curiously and gave you a wave, causing the taller one to nearly trip over the stairs.
That was the day you had practically adopted Lee Felix and Hwang Hyunjin.
then (six and a half years ago).
"Come on," whined Hyunjin as Felix handed you a coffee, "you promised."
"No," you said firmly as you started walking alongside them, a swarm of girls making their way towards the three of you.
You sighed. Being friends with two of the hottest guys on campus could be very irritating at times. Hyunjin, Felix and the six other boys they shared a house with off campus were the heartthrobs of the university you all attended. You knew they eight of them were close, but the only other person from their group that you had met was the freshman, Jeongin.
You would jokingly call their friend group Stray Kids, due to the amount of times they had had to change housing. Despite it all though, the eight of them refused to live separately, opting to live together instead. Hyunjin and Felix had been very insistent about you coming to a party they were hosting this weekend to meet the rest of them.
Felix said so because he wanted to have his 'favorite people meet each other'. Hyunjin cited the same reason as him, but you knew that Hyunjin just wanted to play cupid and set you up with one of his hyungs. That was another thing they were notorious for: that group always rejected girls. The only one in a stable relationship (or any relationship to be honest), was the oldest, Chan. He was in a two-year relationship with a music major named Eun-bi.
You weren't immune to the comments that would be passed about you as well, having been associated with the school prince and sunshine personified. People would assume that the three of you were in a threesome, that it was an open relationship. Some even assumed that you were adopted siblings (and those some were much more bearable than the others). Often time both girls and guys came up to you asking about their status and their phone numbers. You would just laugh it off. Too bad for them, they would never know what big dorks Hyunjin and Felix were in reality.
Another issue though with being friends with popular people, was being set on an unwanted pedestal yourself. People were wary of you, opting to stay far away, or wanted to take advantage of you. You had very few close friends which, didn't really bother you, but sometimes had a tendency to get to you. Realizing that being friends with people high up in the social ranking meant that you could only be friends with people high in social rankings finally caused you to give in to Hyunjin's incessant whining and Felix's hesitant words of agreement.
"Noona, I love you," said Hyunjin, patting you head.
You rolled your eyes at him and started poking him in the side. He began laughing and shrieking at the same time as Felix grinned and whipped out his phone, not missing the chance to document such an event. You finally stopped, a heap of giggles yourself. Hyunjin mumbled something under his breath along the words of 'always conspiring against me' and the conversation soon shifted to what the three of you would be wearing.
"No offense noona," said Felix gently, "but your fashion sense is shit."
You gave him an Academy Award worthy side eye, although you knew he was right. You were well, to put it nicely, very messy. Your "fashion sense" was usually whatever fell out of your closet first when you opened it.
"Okay, fine," you give in, "what should I wear?"
The boys suddenly and very excitedly begin asking you questions. Monochromatic or colorful? What length of dress would you be comfortable in? Sleeveless or with sleeve? You couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm, content with just living in the moment.
"Fuck," you swore under your breath.
Somehow, brilliant old you, managed to sleep through three, three alarms. Quickly getting off your bed, you checked your phone. You had a couple text, one email from Quora (I'm 15 and pregnant...) and two missed calls from Hyunjin. Shooting him a text off 'I'm getting ready', you checked the time and saw that you still had an hour to get ready.
You let out a puff of breath. I can do this. After a lunchtime consultation with Hyunjin and Felix, you had opted for a white button-up crop top, black mini skirt and leather mini blazer. You put on light makeup because, for the life of you, you could not put on makeup. Sighing sadly after looking at your hideous reflection, you hollered for your roommate Sora.
"What is- oh my god my sweet child what have you done to your face," she said in one breath. Sora was two years younger than you (albeit calling you her sweet child) and was a majoring in fashion studies. She was also invited for the party, rocking straight hair, red lipstick and a silver dress.
She scooted over to you and applied eyeliner onto your eyes, chattering about her day. She was applying lipstick to your lips when she suddenly asked, "Yang Jeongin. He's single, right?"
You looked at her with an almost sisterly expression, "Yeah I think so but... don't use him as a rebound Sora.
Sora rolled her eyes at you. She had broken up with her ex-girlfriend two months ago. They had been together for little over half a year, until they realized that a relationship with barely any communication wasn't really a relationship at all.
"I was just asking, a girl in my class was planning on getting his number today."
The conversation continued as you grabbed a handbag and slipped pepper spray and your phone inside. The two of you stepped outside, deciding that Sora would be tonight's designated driver since you were the last time you both went to a party, which, as Sora loved to remind you, was the first day of school party ('hosted by the faculty of all people!' she would exclaim).
You and Sora were nearing the Stray Kids house when Felix ran over to you and wrapped you in a bear hug. "Damn noona, you look good," he said in excitement.
"C'mon, the boys are really excited to meet you," he exclaimed, "also, hey Sora!"
"Oppa," said Sora lightly tapping him on the shoulder, "I think you're suffocating her."
The three of you make your way inside, just to be hit with loud music, the smell of alcohol and excited shouts. Felix leads the three of you into the room when you finally see the other boys in all their glory. Felix quickly starts pointing at who's who.
You recognize Jeongin, the sweet Public Relations major, standing in the corner of the room looking at what you presumed was the boy's fish. Next to him was the host himself, Bang Chan, laughing at something his gorgeous girlfriend said, looking at her with literal heart eyes.
Then you see Hyunjin, goofing off with Changbin and Jisung. The three of them tried (and failed) at making a large tower with solo cups. Next to them, you see Seungmin, shaking his head as he was recording their antics. Finally, your eyes rest upon him for the first time.
He's wearing a white tee and black jeans, hair damp with water from what must have been a shower. He has an amused smirk on his face as he watches Jisung stuttering at a girl who must have asked him for his number. Letting out a laugh, he politely tells her that Jeongin is very much single and that the person who she was talking to was Jisung and she excitedly runs away.
"Go get your guy," hollers Sora who was near the fish tank, startling an entranced Jeongin.
You walk over to Hyunjin, noting Jisung's open mouth and Minho's curious eyes as you went. You crouch down next to him, snorting at how he was so concentrated in building the castle, that he didn't even notice your heeled boots clacking against the floor.
"I'm here you fucking dork," you huff with a roll of your eyes.
Hyunjin jumps backwards, clutching his collarbone, "You scared the living shit out of me, noona."
You stand up gracefully as you say, "Remind me to buy you a dollar store pearl necklace for your birthday, since you have such a large penchant for imitating extras on the Real Housewives."
At that, both Minho and Seungmin snicker. Hyunjin stands up as well and says, "Oh yeah, guys, this is Y/N noona."
The boys exchange polite waves and salutations. Changbin proceeds to stand up, look at you and then sit back down. "Ah fuck," he laments, "She's taller than me. There goes my chance to shoot my shot."
You break out into a laugh as Minho pads over to you. "Science major, right? Hyunjin and Felix talk a lot about how they're only passing because of you."
You give him a dazzling smile, "Yes to both of those. What about you?"
"Oh, I'm taking culinary classes but majoring in veterinary studies."
The conversation just flows from there, not feeling strained even once. The two of you are sitting on the couch soon, about an arms length of distance between you. You're sitting cross-legged with a pillow on your lap as Minho leans against the armchair of the couch.
Gosh, he's funny, and sweet. He tells you all about his cats as you tell him about your siblings back home. He brings you food (which you make sure to thoroughly check because, hey, you did just meet him) and offers to get you a blanket.
"No, I'm fine. Thank you though," you say in response to that.
The two of you seem lost in your own world, oblivious to the beer pong tournaments and obnoxious couples scattered around you. You're hit with the devastating realization that you could listen to Minho talk about the most mundane topics all day long.
It's just the alcohol. I do not have a crush on somebody I have just met.
Hyunjin catches your eye and makes fake kissing gestures behind you back as you flip him off. Minho catches whiff of the exchange and threatens to stick Hyunjin in the air fryer, eliciting a giggle from you. Felix even comes over to Minho, grumbling about how he wasn't expecting that introducing one of his favorite hyungs to his favorite noona would lead to said noona being stolen by said hyung.
You wish you could continue talking to Minho, but soon, Chan's girlfriend Eun-bi comes over and drags you to the kitchen.
"I have heard so much about you," she says with a smile, sipping a lemonade lazily while sitting on a barstool.
"All good things, I hope?"
"Oh," she throws her head back and lets out a pretty laugh, "You're literally an angel sent from heaven according to Lixie and a fellow hopeless romantic noona according to Hyunjin."
The two of you continued talking, and you found that you ended up liking her a lot. You understood why Chan fell for someone like her. She was everything a person could want in a partner. Hell, even you felt attracted to her.
Damn, what was in that drink I poured for myself?
You couldn't stop thinking about Minho though. You wondered what he was doing. Was he talking to a girl right now like he was talking with you? Was she looking at him as if his face held the key to her heart the way you were looking at him?
Did your interaction mean anything or was it all in you head?
"Oh no," same Eun-bi's voice, "Looks like I have lost you to them as well."
"What?" you ask, arising from your love stricken trance.
"You like one of them," said Eun-bi with a teasing lilt, "Don't worry. It happens to the best of us."
You looked at her, mouth slightly hung open. "Respectfully eonnie, what the actual fuck are you talking about."
She looked at you, mischief in her eyes. "Don't play dumb," she said, a teasing lilt in her voice, "Who is it? Changbin? Mm, no, too short. Hyunjin? Absolutely not, I don't think so?"
Eun-bi continued, "Minho? Maybe..." she looked at you intently, her expression turning from one of fun into one of accusation, "Oh my god. It's Minho, isn't it?"
"What," you scoff uneasily, "Nooo."
Eun-bi raises an eyebrow, obviously eager to continue the conversation, but you quickly interrupt her. "So, how did you and Chan meet?"
At that, a wistful smile etches onto Eun-bi's face. "He's a music production major. I'm a songwriting and vocal major. We had a combined project and even though I wasn't assigned to him, he had a habit to talk to everyone, causing him to talk to me. And the rest is history."
She continued, "He says that the first thing he noticed about me was how my eyebrows would scrunch up. And I noticed how his eyes disappeared when he smiled. I found him attractive long before I talked to him though. Obviously."
Eun-bi says the last sentence with a shrug, almost matter-of-factly. She wasn't wrong though. It was extremely hard to not crush on at least one of them the entire duration that you were in college.
Eun-bi's words led you to foolishly hope. Not for Minho really, but for love in general. It was a dangerous yearning. The yearning to scream from the top of a building, professing your love. The yearning to be held with fragility and to be kissed with intensity. A yearning to be loved, the way poets wove their odes to the stars and the skies. A wanting to be cherished, like a treasured diamond, only reflecting the best that you could offer.
Unbeknown to you, Minho stood in the corner of the room, watching you erupt with laughter, a small smile on his lips and a million similar thoughts in his head.
#stray kids#skz#lee know#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#lee know x y/n#lee know x reader#lee know angst#lee know fluff#- via's fics <3
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Okay! The Gilear plush has arrived. This is my best attempt at all of his lines. Two have been unintelligible to me, and several are pretty long and fast which made it hard to follow.
My search history is.. hospitals near me, foot stuck in object, head stuck in object
You're low, he's low, It's Gilear's day baby!*
A guy on the street kicked me in the nuts as hard he could
I don't like "lunchlad"
Help me to understand what I have done to deserve this
My horoscope says "today is a good day to die motherfucker"
I ate a quick cup of yogurt on the way over here to bolster my spirits after I changed, I'm ever so sorry
What do you mean "When" life gives you lemons
I went to apply for the guidance counselor position but I was usurped by a drug dealing werewolf named Jawbone
In my haste to put the armor on I buckled the leg plate and think I clipped the tip of my penis against one of the leg plates and Everytime I move it feels like it might fall off so I ASSURE you demon I have no pride to speak of!
In highschool I was voted "Most Likely To Get Pushed Out Of A Tree"
My car was repossessed by the ride share app that I was working for
It's actually a good thing that no one came to my birthday party because the bounce house flooded and was swept out to sea
I just discovered that *all* of my emails have been going to everyone's spam
Unfortunately I have been banned from that hot air balloon service not because of anything that happened to me in particular but the guys who run it just sort of know my whole deal
Mmm this yogurt tastes like *potatoes*
I asked the woman at Home Depot why my plants kept dying and she said it seemed like they were reaching away from the sun
I've found out recently that one of my shoes is so filled with mildew because a pipe in my bedroom is leaking and I've developed a fungal infection in my foot which I didn't know was possible for elves to get
I don't think that I've ever "Peaked" in that we started neutral and have been going downhill ever since
I am currently trapped in a storm drain. The bottom half of me is above the ground, the other is below
Another Own Goal for Gilear Faeth, yes
Everyone knows you eat 7 spiders in your sleep every year, but I have a bunch coming into me the backway
My sandcastle I'm afraid was destroyed, as I was about to finish it, the tide came in and with it a man holding a bazooka who shot me and killed me
I know you're not going to believe this but Ive just been kicked by a snake
I found out the hard way that people can legally reject status as an emergency contact
The title of my autobiography is going to be Gilear Faeth: Please Stop
On my way here I was carrying a large bowl of Italian wedding soup which shattered on the ground in front of me and several of the small pasta balls rolled through the cracks and alerted vermin to my presence. I've since learned after a trip to the hospital I am deathly allergic to the sting of millipedes which is a way of me saying I need someone to come down to the hospital and pay for this. There is a doctor holding a gun to my head and now that I think about it this clinic is in the back of a storage unit and I think have gone to the wrong place
he said and I quote "he'd stomp my goon ass" if I ever got on his bus again
Gorthalax it was very nice to meet you, you've made a cuckold of me
We're the throw up boys!*
I've been informed that the brownies I consumed were laced with cannabis and rat poison
I am completely unprepared for the perils ahead and am deeply frightened, I'll go get the coffee
A gorilla monster punched me so hard in the back of the head I died
Today I have been hit by 3 scooters
Everytime you squeeze my hand it breaks several small bones
My imaginary friend as a child ghosted me because he said I was too depressing
Do you want me to go back? I warn you, it will break me
Can I interest you in an herbal soda? You must understand I am an intern at a ponzi scheme*
When I go to sleep at night I dream of a world where I might be able to walk through a field without stepping on a rake or gopher hole
If anyone needs me... I will be surprised.
If it wasn't for bad luck, Id have no luck is both true and what was written upon the billboard I crashed through
I wonder if any of these will feature in Junior year 👀
*Thanks to @cappa-cappa for telling me the lines I wasn't able to make out!!
#d20#dimension 20#naddpod#bahumia#brian murphy#emily axford#brennan lee mulligan#gilear faeth#siobhan thompson#lou wilson#ally beardsley#dropout#spire#fantasy high#fantasy high freshman year#fantasy high sophomore year#fantasy high junior year
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Emi’s Scrapbook
This is my new Scrapbook! My first entry is of the Witch diet by @honeysugarfree (all of their diets are amazing)
I have encoded all the text, here’s what it says without the code:
Header: Witch Diet
Text in the heart:
Text on the left: Rumours tell of a witch living in the cottage in the deep forest. They whisper of a skeletal hand and its expert control over the occult. Some whisper in fear, others with reverence. None know the very witch is living among them.
Text in the heart: Add small positivity charms when you cook or bake. Eat mostly herbs and Plants, Stew, Soup, Pie and Potatoes.
Text in the middle: Break your fast with a single magical berry. Your meal ought to be as well crafted as your practise: charted meticulously and exactly.
Text on the bottom right: Most Important: Don’t get caught! If they catch you, you will burn at the stake. In order to contain the energy needed for spells, you must abstain from consuming external Energy. It is natural and mediative this way.
All the credits for the text go to honey, i’ve changed a couple of things up to better fit the spacing though.
If anyone wants a tutorial for either the basic scrapbook or the code i used for this, come talk to me! I’d be happy to help
#emi talks#໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১#3d not sheeran#tw 3d shit#4nor3xia#4norexla#⭐️rving#@n@ diary#@nor3×14#4n4blr#4n4rexia#4n0rexic#tw 3d#3ating d1sorder#a4a diet#weight loss diet#honey diet#losing weight#light as a feather
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Breathing
(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)
SUMMARY | You were betrayed by your betrothed and left for dead. You’re rescued by a healer named Yeosang, who nurses you back to health. As you recover, you share your past with Yeosang and express your desire to live a quiet life, away from the rumors and hatred you faced. PAIRING | Yeosang x Reader GENRE/CONTENT | healer!Yeosang, noble!Reader, non-idol au, fantasy, romance, slight angst, slight fluff, smut, consensual, vaginal sex (wrap it up y’all!), oral sex, gentle lovemaking WARNINGS | Its a fantasy setting so…yeah, implied violence, betrayal, injuries/wounds, RATING | Mature, Explicit, 18+, NSFW, MDNI LENGTH | 7,050 words TAGLIST | -- NETWORKS | AUTHOR’S NOTE | This took me a bit to write and I finally finished it! I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I wrote it! Please reblog, comment and like~ Much love!
You couldn’t have known that it would have come down to this.
Couldn’t have known this would have been the last breath you would have taken.
He knew better than anyone else how much you loved him and even though you begged for a chance to be a family, you didn’t even get that one chance.
You were just discarded like the rubbish you were, never being able to find happiness or peace again. It all happened so quickly; there was no way you could stop what had just occurred.
All you wanted was to feel safe and protected; all you ever wanted was love, happiness, and companionship.
He gave you that love and happiness once upon a time.
But then that woman who was like a ray of sunshine swept him off his feet and took him away from you. He changed. He gave her everything and forgot about you. The rumors that you were evil and vindictive grew and flourished because of how you treated that woman. They said you stole him from her even though that was far from the truth.
The stories they told made him want to leave you and finally it did happen, just not in the way you imagined. Now he’s gone and you’re alone.
No more fighting.
No more tears.
Nothing but emptiness.
He is now free from your grasp as his guards drove a sword through your chest.
There is nothing left for you now except for pain and grief.
As you laid on the warm, grassy field looking at his fleeting back as he walked away with that woman at his side, you couldn’t help but take one last breath before darkness consumed you. Your heart stopped beating; your soul died in that moment when he gave up on you, right in front of your very eyes.
You woke with a start, breath heavy as you clutched at your painful chest where the guards’ sword pierced through it during your final moments of life.
You weren’t dead?
You looked around the room and noticed the bare furniture and bright white walls; the smell of death wasn’t present.
It was empty except for you. There was no prince by your side, no other guards and fair ladies, no one…
It was just you and this huge bed. You suddenly felt cold, not only from the icy temperature outside but also from the fact that your whole body hurt.
“You’re awake?” You heard a voice called out. You looked over to see a man standing near the door holding a bowl of something. “How do you feel?”
“Where am I?” You managed to choke out between deep breaths. The man came closer to the bed and kneeled down next to you, sitting the bowl on the nightstand that was next to the bed. “And who are you?”
“My name is Kang Yeosang.” The man smiled, putting a hand on your shoulder. You instinctively shied away. “Here, have some soup. It has medicinal herbs in it. Hopefully it will help ease the pain you’re feeling.”
“Thank you,” You took the bowl gingerly, cautiously as you carefully spooned the contents into your mouth.
Yeosang watched you for a bit, giving you a slight nod. “I know you have plenty of questions. I’m sure you’re wondering how you ended up here.” He sighed deeply. “I don’t know what exactly happened to you…but I found you bleeding out in the fields. You were barely breathing. You were barely alive. I brought you here, cleaned you up and nursed you back to health.”
“How long have I been here?” You asked after you swallowed the rest of the broth. You lifted yourself off the bed, using Yeosang’s hand as support.
"Only a few days.” He answered solemnly. “That wound on your back looks infected. We can treat it if you want.”
“Okay,” You nodded. He pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat next to you, giving you a worried look.
“Can I ask what happened to you?” Yeosang asked, his fingers untying the thick ribbons that tied the back of the shirt you were in. You closed your eyes as he peeled it open, exposing the injury in your back. “What happened when you were left out in the fields to die?”
“The man I thought I loved betrayed me for another woman. The rumors were that I stole him from that woman. That I was evil and vindictive.” You sobbed quietly as Yeosang tried to soothe your wounds. “People hated me for loving someone who didn’t love me back. I tried talking to them to come to an understanding during the imperial hunt…but I guess I was the one hunted instead.”
Yeosang gently dabbed the wound, helping you sit upright against the headboard as he began to bandage the cloth around your chest. You winced from the sharp pain. "They wouldn’t listen to you?”
“No,” You shook your head. “None of them cared. They just accused me of horrible things and said terrible things about me. They made my life hell and there was nothing I could do to stop it. To everyone, I’m just a villain undeserving of love and happiness. So I lost hope in trying to get people to accept me for who I really am. All I ever wanted was to belong somewhere, to be accepted by others.”
“Oh…” Yeosang furrowed his brows as he tightened the last knot of the bandage. He grabbed the shirt and put it back on you, wrapping it tightly around your chest. “Do you want revenge?”
You shook your head vehemently. “I don’t care about the rumors anymore. What’s done is done. Nothing can change that now. I just want to live life quietly even if people think I’m dead. As long as I am happy, then that’s all that matters.”
Yeosang patted your hand softly. “We’ll talk more later. Right now you should try and get some sleep.” He stood up and started walking towards the door. “Sleep well.”
You laid back down in the bed and waited until you felt drowsiness take over your body.
Your fever spiked and you coughed violently, sending hot spittle flying across the room. You were sweating profusely, your skin burning under your touch as Yeosang sat by your side, wiping your face with a wet cloth.
“Please stay still,” Yeosang murmured soothingly as he wiped your forehead with another cloth. “This will make you feel better.”
You let out a soft groan as Yeosang touched your back. Your back still ached, especially from the wound that pierced your body. The wound from the guards hadn’t fully healed yet. You were scared to move too much lest the wound reopened again.
“Let me see.” Yeosang reached for the blanket, uncovering your torso. “Does it still hurt?”
“Yeah,” You frowned as you tried to sit up. “A lot.”
“It’ll heal soon,” Yeosang assured you as he used the clean cloth to wipe your sweat away. You sighed in relief as your head cooled down. “Just relax and let me tend to you. This might hurt a little.”
“Alright,” You nodded, closing your eyes as you felt his hands moving around your wounded chest. The first touch made you flinch, causing Yeosang to pause in his work. You exhaled loudly as you slowly lay back down, letting Yeosang continue tending to your wounds. He worked steadily, cleaning the wounds and applying the healing balm onto the wound.
“Everything alright?” Yeosang asked concernedly, his eyes focused on your chest as he continued his work.
“Mmm hmm,” You hummed in reply.
He finished treating the wound after what seemed like forever. He let out a sigh of relief before sitting back in his chair. “There, that should help with the pain.”
“Thanks,” You smiled weakly. “That really helped.”
“Are you hungry?” Yeosang asked. “The broth earlier wasn’t enough for you. Are you hungry for anything else?”
“I would kill for meat…” You muttered but shook your head when you saw his face. “I don’t really mean I’d kill anyone. I’ll shut up now. Sorry for saying that.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled lightly. “Would you like some water? You haven’t drank any in a while.”
“Sure,” You smiled gratefully as Yeosang got up from his seat and filled a cup of water from the nearby basin. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He handed you a cup of water. “Drink it slowly. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“I will.” You promised as you sipped the cool water. It tasted like nothing compared to the wine you usually drank but it was nice and refreshing nonetheless.
After your glass was empty, Yeosang refilled it. “Now, how are you feeling?” He asked gently. “Better?”
“Yes.” You nodded, swallowing the remaining liquid in the cup. “Much better.”
“Good.” Yeosang smiled at you reassuringly. “I’m going to head out and procure some meat. Will you be okay here alone?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You reassured him. “Go on ahead. I’m good.”
“Alright.” He stood up, taking his empty cup with him. “Have a good night, Y/N. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night, Yeosang.” You watched him leave before lying back down in bed. You set the cup of water aside and stared up at the ceiling, focusing your attention on counting the beams above you.
Your wound had healed considerably, although it was still tender to the touch. At least it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it did yesterday. The worst part was having to constantly deal with the constant headache that was plaguing your mind. Even though you were alone, you had never felt more alone than you did at this very moment. You wished you had someone by your side; someone you could lean on. A friend or family member. But sadly, none of those existed.
But Yeosang had taken such good care of you.
In the past few days that you’ve been in Yeosang’s care, you learned that he was a former guard in the imperial army before losing both his parents in a tragic accident. Because of his current situation, he decided to return to his home village to tend to his parent’s property and retired from the imperial army.
Yeosang became a healer to provide healing for the village and for coin. He has always enjoyed healing and saving people, being outdoors for herbs and being among nature. In fact, he was looking for medicinal herbs in the outskirts of his village when he found you on the verge of death in the field.
Yeosang was a kind man, a bit weird and eccentric at times but he had a good heart. After your injuries were treated, he stayed by your side, helping you recover. He told you that you needed to eat properly in order to regain your strength. So he provided you with the best food he could find, made you nutritious soups and prepared delicious meat meals for you. You knew you should be thankful for his kindness but all you could think about was how lonely you were right now.
Your loneliness gnawed at you day and night. You had been so used to receiving love once upon a time. Now that you no longer had that, your heart felt heavy. Lonely and hopeless.
You couldn’t sleep properly because of the constant migraine that kept banging against your skull, keeping you awake. If only there was something you could do about it…
Yeosang returned to the cottage right before the sun rose, bringing with him fresh meat and vegetables from his excursion. After placing the supplies inside the cottage, he grabbed a small jar of water and brought it to your bedside. You took the water gratefully as Yeosang walked towards the bed.
“How are you doing?” He asked, looking at you intently.
“I’m better,” You replied with a small smile.
“Good.” Yeosang stroked your hair softly. “Maybe tomorrow we can go fishing. Would you like that?”
“Sure,” You smiled. Fishing sounded like a great way to pass the day.
“Let’s take a look at your wound then. Just to make sure everything’s okay.”
You bit the inside of your cheek as you felt his fingers lifting the back of your shirt, exposing your wounded back. Yeosang placed his warm hand against your back as he inspected the wound. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” He nodded, moving his fingers away from your back to lift up the front of your shirt. “Anything.”
You blushed slightly as Yeosang looked down at your naked torso, eyeing every inch of it. “Do you ever feel lonely living here? All by yourself without anyone?”
Yeosang paused in his movements. His fingers still as he held onto the edge of your shirt. He blinked a few times, seemingly confused. “Why do you ask?”
“I…it just came to me.” You scratched the back of your head nervously. “Sorry, I must have asked a silly question.”
Yeosang’s expression softened. “Not a silly question at all. Do you feel lonely here?”
“A little,” You admitted sheepishly. “My injury makes me quite vulnerable and sometimes I wish I had someone with me.”
Yeosang closed his eyes and gave you a faint smile. “You know what, Y/N?” He whispered gently. “I’d gladly be your company.”
Yeosang’s words caught you off guard. For a split second, your heartbeat increased dramatically. Your breathing became shallow and ragged. It took a few moments before you managed to calm yourself down.
“What did you say?” You stammered, staring at Yeosang.
“Y/N, I’d gladly-”
“Are you sure?” You interrupted, suddenly feeling nervous. “You barely know me.”
“You said you wanted to live a happy, quiet life. And I know you want to forget about all those things that happened to you. I want to give you that.”
“Yeosang…” You grabbed hold of his arm and squeezed it tightly. “I…” You closed your eyes and sighed. “I…”
Yeosang placed his free hand on top of yours. “Y/N, it’s okay to not want to be lonely. I’m kinda lonely too with no friends and living in this cabin by myself.”
You nodded your head. “So you can relate.”
“I can definitely relate. My situation probably pales in comparison to yours but I can definitely relate to being lonely.” Yeosang gave you a small smile as he patted your hand. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” You breathed out. “Very.”
“Good.” Yeosang grabbed the tray of food and placed it on the table next to the bed. He sat down next to you and handed you the spoon. “Eat.”
You moved the blanket off of you and sat up, digging into the large meal with a ravenous appetite. It was the first time in a while that you felt full and content. All thanks to Yeosang.
As you ate, Yeosang watched you intently. He was lost in thought as he sipped on his own bowl of stew. You had grown quite fond of his presence in the cottage since he arrived. Without him, you felt completely alone.
“Do you want to talk about what happened to you?” Yeosang suddenly spoke up, breaking you out of your thoughts. “I mean I knew you talked about it a bit before but…is there more that you can get off your chest?”
“Uh…yeah,” You mumbled, pushing your empty bowl away. “I suppose it’s about time I did.”
“Okay.” Yeosang raised an eyebrow. “So tell me, Y/N.”
You glanced over at Yeosang before continuing. “Well you probably know that I’m a noble. But I’m a high ranking noble that was betrothed to a high ranking lord at a young age. Maybe I was delusional or something but I thought he loved me just as I loved him. We spent countless hours together talking about our future and dreaming about what it would be like once we got married and settled down. Our families have been friends for generations. Everything was perfect. Then one day, everything changed.”
You paused for a moment, collecting your thoughts before speaking again. “I found out that he picked up a stray orphan from his travels, brought her home and took her under his care. He fell in love with her and he stopped loving me. It was just like that. Completely unexpected. One minute, I’m flying high thinking about my happily ever after with someone I love, the next minute, I find myself tossed aside like trash. Devastated is not even the word to describe how I felt. All I could do was crawl inside a hole and cry.”
You rested your hand on top of your stomach. “It was terrible. It was embarrassing and painful. Everyone was calling me names, telling me I deserved it and worse. My family abandoned me, telling me that I was a disgrace. How I was stupid for letting him go. For ruining our reputation.”
You shook your head slowly. “I didn’t know what to do. I tried to fight for him but he wouldn’t listen. No one listened. They called me evil saying that I was stealing him from his true love. My whole world collapsed around me. And then the imperial hunt came around and well…here we are.”
Yeosang remained silent as he stared at you. He took your hand in his. “I’m sorry you had to experience that, Y/N.”
“Thanks.” You wiped away the tears forming in your eyes. “And thank you for finding me when you did. I’m still alive because of you. And I really appreciate that.”
Yeosang smiled softly. “You’re welcome.”
You cleared your throat. “The food is good.” You looked down at your plate. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Yeosang smiled. “Do you want anything else?”
“I’m all good.” You shook your head. “Do you think we can head into the village later? I need some new clothes and I think a walk will be nice. It’ll help clear my head.“
Yeosang stood up and stretched his arms above his head. "That sounds like a great idea.”
When Yeosang walked out of the room, you gazed out of the window. From where you were sitting, you could see the fields and trees surrounding the cottage. There was something beautiful about it. Everything seemed peaceful. You hoped that soon, you’d be able to find peace in your life again. But for now, you were grateful that Yeosang was taking care of you.
A few hours later, you and Yeosang left the cottage and headed towards the village. A few villagers spotted you walking through town and they started whispering amongst themselves. As you approached them, one woman nudged another and pointed at you. The two women exchanged a glance and one of them ran off to tell their friends. Soon everyone in the square turned their heads towards you, curious about who you were.
“Yeosang! Did you find a wife?” A woman shouted. “Oh my, she’s so pretty!”
“You’re lucky to have Yeosang as a husband, girl!” Another woman yelled. “If only my husband was half as cute as him.”
You let out a small laugh as the people began gathering around you. A group of children surrounded you and begged you to play with them but Yeosang had to shoo them away due to your injury.
A crowd had formed outside the tavern and the owner poked his head out of the door, smiling. “There goes another lover coming to steal my man. Sorry everyone, it looks like Yeosang is finally off the market.”
“Saving a damsel in distress isn’t such a bad thing, after all.” Yeosang chuckled and leaned against the wooden post beside the door. Everyone laughed as he turned to look at you, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Let’s go get you some new clothes and other things you might need. Don’t worry, I won’t leave your side. The villagers are pretty nosy.”
“I don’t mind it all.” You smiled back. “Everyone seems to really love you.”
Yeosang rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re a bit too obsessed with me.”
“I think it’s lovely.” You grinned. “But let me ask you a question.”
“Of course.”
“You’re not embarrassed that the villagers are calling me your wife? I mean we just met and we’ve known each other for less than a week. That’s not very normal.”
Yeosang shrugged. “I guess I just don’t mind.”
You tilted your head. “Huh?”
“I don’t really care what people think.” He replied. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“Oh…” You felt your cheeks heat up slightly. “Thank you.”
Yeosang pulled open the doors to the tavern and stepped inside, motioning for you to follow him. He ordered a meal for both of you and set it on the counter as he waited for the cook to bring it out.
“You’re so kind to me, Yeosang.” You mumbled quietly, setting down your plate.
“Don’t mention it.” Yeosang gave you a reassuring smile. “It’s nothing.”
“Maybe not but it means a lot to me. Thank you.”
Yeosang waved his hands. “No need to thank me. Just take it easy, okay?”
“I will.” You flashed him a warm smile before resting your head against the wall behind you.
After lunch, you and Yeosang went to go buy items that you would need, explore the village for a bit and headed back home.
“Yeosang,” you muttered as you looked at the wild fields that stretched out ahead of you.
“Hmm?” Yeosang asked, looking over his shoulder at you.
“You know that high noble that I was betrothed to? It’s actually Crown Prince Mingi…” You let out a sigh. “He’s the man that I was supposed to marry. The man that betrayed me and left me out for dead.”
He didn’t say anything as he strolled by your side. A little ways away from you, there was a stream that flowed through the countryside. You had never seen anything more beautiful in your entire life. The grass was bright green and the sky was filled with the color of purple.
“I should be mad that he betrayed me like this…” You muttered as you closed your eyes and breathed in the air. “I should get revenge for the things he did to me but…maybe there’s no point. I mean, I survived. I was actually saved by a kind stranger and now I’m on my way to find my own happily ever after. What more could I possibly want?”
Yeosang stopped walking and turned to face you. “Y/N?”
You opened your eyes and turned to face him. He studied you for a moment before reaching out and caressing your cheek. “Everything happens for a reason, Y/N.” He said softly. “I don’t understand why things worked out the way they did but sometimes, there’s a bigger picture that we can’t see. Maybe your life with the crown prince wasn’t meant to be. Maybe it was meant to lead you here instead.”
Your heart skipped a beat as he gently brushed his thumb across your cheek. His fingers were soft and warm against your skin. You couldn’t remember feeling so safe and secure in a very long time.
“Wherever you end up, I hope you find what you’re looking for, Y/N.” He smiled. “Just don’t forget that I’m always here if you need me.”
“I won’t.” You mumbled. “I promise.”
“Good.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “Now let’s go explore the countryside, shall we?”
Over the next few months, you enjoyed yourself immensely while exploring the country. Sometimes you would spend time with the people of the village, sometimes you would sit by the stream and admire the beauty of nature. You also made sure to heal properly. While it hurt like hell, the pain eventually faded away as you healed. The scars across your chest still remained but you decided not to focus on that. Instead, you focused on the things you were thankful for.
One night, while lying in bed, you started to think about everything that had happened to you over the last few months. About everything you went through and about the one person that helped you every step of the way. You sighed as you drifted off to sleep, wondering if he was thinking about you right now too.
Hours later, you heard footsteps approach your bedroom. A knock sounded at the door followed by a muffled voice.
“Y/N?” You heard a familiar male voice call out. “Are you awake?”
“Yes.” You answered.
A few moments passed before the door opened and Yeosang peeked inside, giving you a small smile.
“Hey.” He said softly.
“Hi.” You smiled back, stretching your arms above your head.
“How are you feeling?” He asked.
You rolled onto your side and faced him. “Much better.” You sighed. “I can’t believe how fast I got better.”
“That’s what healing herbs are for.” Yeosang nodded. “Sometimes, they work faster than we expect.”
“Yeah, maybe.” You shrugged. “Speaking of which, I thought I would repay you for helping me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Since you helped me recover so quickly, I wanted to give you something in return.” You reached out and placed your hand on his cheek. “These past few months with you have been the best of my life. Even though we haven’t known each other very long, you’ve already become such an important part of my life. I’ve never been so at peace and happy all these years. If I could, I would have never let you go.”
His eyes softened as he stared deeply into yours. “Y/N, I-”
“Don’t.” You interrupted. “Don’t say anything yet. Let me do this.”
You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, gently kissing him. He froze for a moment before returning the kiss. When the kiss ended, you slowly sat up, a smile on your face.
“I wanted to do this because…” You took a deep breath. “Because I want to thank you. For being such a good person. And for saving me.”
“Don’t mention it.” Yeosang replied, reaching out and pulling you close to him.
As the weeks went by, you and Yeosang continued spending most of your days together. Some days you would sit by the stream, talking or drinking tea while others you would explore the land. On those days, you’d venture far away from the village and walk along the endless grasslands. Sometimes, you’d stop and pick flowers for him to give to the women of the village or make you a meal to show his appreciation. Other times, you’d rest under a tree and watch the sun rise. You spent almost every day with him and loved every second of it.
You knew that you were falling for him but you weren’t quite sure when it had happened. All you knew was that one day, it hit you and you knew that you had moved on from the crown prince, from your old life and had found someone that made you feel whole again. It was hard to describe what you felt for him. All you knew was that he made you happier than anyone else in the world and that he was the one you had been searching for.
Over the next few weeks, the two of you grew closer and closer. Each day, you became even more attached to each other. After a few weeks, you noticed the affection between the two of you growing stronger and stronger. The villagers still saw you as a married couple and never failed to tease you whenever they saw you together. But you didn’t mind it. In fact, you relished in their teasing. It was proof that you had finally found true happiness.
When winter came around, you celebrated the first snowfall together. With a grin on his face, Yeosang scooped up a handful of snow and flicked it at your face. The cold water stung your skin but you simply giggled and reached out, grabbing another handful of snow. This continued until the both of you were covered in snow and laughter. You threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly.
“This is going to be a wonderful winter.” You whispered, resting your chin on his shoulder.
“I agree.” He chuckled, placing his arm around your waist.
After a few minutes, you broke apart, grinning from ear to ear.
“We should go inside.” You said, brushing some of the snow off of your coat. “I’m getting cold.”
Yeosang grabbed your hand. “I know a good way to warm you up.”
Your heart began beating rapidly as he led you inside. Yeosang lit up the fireplace and threw several logs inside. Once the fire was burning well, he wrapped a blanket around you and pulled you close to him, sitting on the floor. You snuggled close to him, as he held you, slowly tracing his fingertips down your cheek, letting them linger on your lips.
“So…” He whispered. “What are your plans for the upcoming new year?”
You grinned mischievously. “I don’t really have any.”
“But, if you did have plans, what would they be?”
“Well…” You glanced up at him, chewing on your bottom lip. “They might involve you, I guess.”
“Oh?” Yeosang raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah…” You admitted shyly. “I mean, we’ve been spending so much time together and our feelings seem to be growing deeper everyday. So, I was just curious…”
He cocked his head to the side, studying you for a moment.
“If I kissed you right now, would you kiss me back?” He asked quietly.
You swallowed hard. Your cheeks burned brightly as you lowered your gaze.
“Y-yes.” You whispered.
A smile spread across his face as he reached out and cupped your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb across your skin.
“If I wanted to make love to you, would you allow me to?”
You inhaled sharply as his words washed over you. His eyes searched yours as he waited patiently for your answer. After a few moments, you lifted your head and met his gaze.
“But all my scars… My body is damaged…” You explained, slightly hesitantly.
“I don’t care.” He stated simply. “All that matters is the person behind them. They’re only physical blemishes, nothing more. They don’t define you.”
A lump formed in your throat as he gently traced his fingers along your jawline.
“Besides…” He added, bringing his hand to your lips. “If you’ll allow me to kiss you, I’d gladly kiss away every single scar.”
Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in closer to you. Slowly, his lips pressed against yours, sending shivers throughout your entire body. It was gentle and tender but filled with such passion and heat. At the same time, his hands caressed your hair and back, making you melt against him. You closed your eyes as you basked in the warmth of his touch. You could feel his heartbeat steadily racing against your own as his tongue explored your mouth. Every brush sent tingles coursing through your veins. Every kiss seemed to last longer than the last. As the seconds ticked by, the both of you became lost in the moment. Time ceased to exist as you became completely consumed by the sensation of being in each other’s arms. Eventually, the two of you parted, gasping for air.
“Let me make love to you.” He whispered.
You gazed into his eyes, lust swirling within them. “Please.” You breathed. “Make love to me.”
Yeosang slowly got up and picked you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest. As he walked towards the bedroom, he lowered you down to the bed and carefully removed your boots. Before removing your clothes, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of your face.
“My beautiful Y/N.” He murmured, gazing down at you.
With a soft smile, he began untying your blouse, sliding it down your arms. You turned your head to look at him as he gently removed your top and slipped it over your shoulders. Next, he slowly undid the buttons on your skirt and slid it down your legs, letting it fall to the ground. He gently stroked your skin with his fingertips, his touch caressing the scar on your chest. He leaned down to kiss it before capturing your lips once more. Once he broke away, he stared deeply into your eyes, taking in your beauty.
You watched him intently as he slipped his shirt off and then unclasped his pants. As he lowered himself onto the bed, he captured your lips once more, holding you tightly against him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he ran his hands up and down your body. He kissed every inch of your body, slowly trailing kisses down your neck and chest. The sound of your heart pounding in your ears was music to his ears as he paid special attention to every little detail.
When he reached your breasts, his lips followed, kissing every inch of them before moving lower, causing goosebumps to form on your skin. He circled his tongue around your nipple before sucking it softly into his mouth. You moaned in pleasure, running your hands through his hair as he gave you pleasure like no other. When he started sucking on your other breast, your body arched up into him. A few minutes later, you broke apart, breathless and flushed.
“Yeosang…” You breathed. “Please.”
With a smirk on his face, he kissed his way down your stomach. When he reached your navel, he traced his finger along it, causing you to shiver.
“Your body is perfect.” He breathed. “Just how I imagined it to be.”
He trailed kisses further south, giving you a taste of things to come. When he reached your thighs, he ran his fingers up and down them before lifting your leg and placing it on his shoulder. You bit your lip as you watched him trace circles on your inner thigh. He then placed a trail of kisses down your inner thigh, giving you chills as he slowly inched closer to where you throbbed with need. He stopped suddenly and looked up at you with dark, lustful eyes.
“Do you trust me?” He asked.
With a trembling voice, you nodded your head. “Of course I do.”
“Good.” He breathed. “Because I plan on exploring every inch of this body tonight.”
His hand moved back up your thigh, moving closer to your core as his tongue glided up your center, licking every inch of your clit, causing you to moan loudly. The vibrations echoed through your body as his tongue continued its slow pace. His hands moved from your thighs to your hips, holding you firmly in place as his tongue teased and tantalized your sensitive flesh. You trembled uncontrollably as he increased the intensity of his kisses, increasing the speed of his movements. Soon, you couldn’t take it anymore and began thrashing your head back and forth on the pillow, moaning louder and louder with every thrust of his tongue.
“You taste amazing.” He whispered. “And your scent is intoxicating.”
As he continued to feast on your pussy, you felt yourself building up toward an orgasm. Sensation after sensation flowed through your body, intensifying your pleasure until you could barely breathe. Your breathing quickened as your body tensed and shook. You cried out as you came undone beneath him.
You lay there panting, trying to catch your breath as he continued to eat you out, enjoying the taste of your juices. You slowly opened your eyes and gazed at him with loving eyes.
“I can’t believe I’ve never experienced anything like this before.” You gasped.
Yeosang smiled widely as he took a deep breath. “Are you saying that I might be a better lover than the crown prince?”
“Shhh…let’s not talk about him.” You giggled. “I want to keep enjoying this feeling for as long as possible.”
With a devilish grin, he shifted positions and began lightly kissing his way up your body to the scar on your chest. “Does it still hurt?” He asked.
“No.” You answered. “Not anymore.”
He pulled back and gazed down at you, a questioning look on his face.
“Not when you’re touching me.” You replied, running your fingers through his hair. “It doesn’t hurt at all when you’re here.”
He chuckled as he gently kissed the scar on your chest. “Then maybe I should stay with you forever.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. It had been so long since anyone had made you feel loved. In the past, you didn’t even know if it was real or not. But Yeosang showed you that you were worthy of affection. He proved to you that it wasn’t only love that could heal a broken soul; that it was also true friendship and compassion. From the moment he saved you, you knew this man was meant to be in your life. The way he treated you, the way he cared for you, the way he respected you… You knew he was someone very special.
Yeosang kissed your scar one last time before capturing your lips in his. His lips were warm and gentle as they met yours. You ran your hands up and down his back, holding him tight against you as you surrendered to his touch. He enveloped your body in his strong arms, laying in between your legs as he continued to explore every inch of your body. With each kiss, his hands drifted lower, feeling every curve and fold of your skin. With every caress, he held back his excitement, wanting to make sure you enjoyed every second of this moment. Every ounce of his passion poured out as he laid claim to every part of you, leaving you spent and breathless.
“Can I…?” He murmured against your neck. “Can I finally be inside you? Make sweet love to you?”
“Yes.” You breathed. “Please.”
Slowly, he pushed his way inside you. You let out a moan as you gripped his back. Each stroke caused another rush of pleasure to spread through your body. Every movement caused you to shudder and shake, calling out his name over and over again. He kept a slow pace, careful to not hurt your body any further. Every movement caused a new wave of pleasure to wash over you, threatening to send you over the edge. He knew that your body still needed time to heal, and therefore, would wait patiently until you were ready for more.
After several minutes of gentle lovemaking, he lifted his head and gazed into your eyes. Your cheeks were flushed and covered in sweat, yet you still radiated an aura of pure beauty.
“This feels right, Y/N.” He said. “I’m glad I found you.”
You smiled lovingly at him. “I’m glad you found me too.”
For the first time in years, you felt safe. For the first time in years, you felt truly loved. For the first time in years, you felt whole. You held onto him tightly as he continued to slowly thrust in you, savoring every last minute. This was your first time experiencing this type of intimacy and you wanted to remember every single detail.
Yeosang’s face lit up with delight as he felt you tighten around him. Both of you grew increasingly aroused as your bodies began pulsating with pleasure. You clenched your muscles tightly around him as you arched your back, begging for more.
“You sure?” Yeosang asked. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s fine. Please, Yeosang.” You begged. “I need more of you. More of everything.”
His expression softened as he leaned down and kissed you passionately. At the same time, he slowly picked up his pace, thrusting harder and faster as your screams filled the room. He plunged deeper inside of you, filling you completely. Every inch of your being became alive, as your entire body quivered in ecstasy.
In response, he wrapped his arms around you, clutching you close to his body as he panted heavily, lost in the throes of passion. Every time he hit bottom, you clenched him tighter, crying out his name. Together, both of you shared your greatest moment together. Every ounce of happiness you had ever felt was released during this intense experience. And when the climax subsided, neither of you wanted to let go. You slowly began rocking back and forth with him, falling deeper and deeper under his spell. Eventually, he leaned down and captured your lips in a tender kiss, whispering in your ear.
“Thank you.” He breathed. “For staying alive. For making me fall in love with you.”
You gazed into his beautiful eyes as he gently rocked you against him. The love and warmth that radiated from his gaze overwhelmed you. “Thank you.” You whispered back. “For saving my life. For helping me see what true love really means. For letting me live and breathe once more.”
Yeosang tightened his embrace around you as you nuzzled your face against his chest. His strong arms held you securely as you closed your eyes, basking in the warmth of his embrace. You listened to his heartbeat as it slowly calmed, and as you did, your own heart began to beat slower and slower. It was as if you had become one person, one mind, one heart. As you drifted off to sleep, both of you fell asleep holding one another.
In his arms, you found peace, contentment, and most importantly…love.
#illusionnet#blossomnet#atzhouse#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez fanfics#ateez stories#ateez smut#ateez yeosang#kang yeosang#yeosang#yeosang x reader
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So I saw this post talking about how grace is the most tied to Nibbly which makes sense. She hungers for power, sex, food metaphors with dirty girl soup, which said post already discussed. But also Nibbly is kind of the most prominent one in the summoning scene other than wiggly which would make sense if this is Nibblys ending. Especially because grace is consuming the souls of the horny, those who desire sex, those who are hungry for it. Which aligns with Nibblys modus operandi in Honey queen. Those who hunger taste sweeter. Also makes sense as to why Nibbly's apocalypse is basically a happen ending. He has a pretty sweet gig already. Cult of followers, regularly getting fed, he even gets to walk the earth annually. I make sense that he wouldn't want to change hatchetfield that much and he needs to keep some people alive so he keeps getting fed.
So if TGWDLM, BF, and NPMD show Pokey, Wiggly and Nibbly's respective apocalypses then maybe we'll get 2 more musicals for blinky and Tinky.
From what it looks like, the next show in Hatchetfield (which might not be the next Starkid show, I heard they wanted a break) is going to be about Miss Holloway. And who did she explicitly make a deal with? Tinky! So my guess is he's going to be our next apocalypse. Miss Holloway talks explicitly about him in Killer track and also we know there's a ton of time shenanigans going on with her. I'm like 99% certain if they do the Holloway show he's our main villain. They could do a time loop story, that could be fun, or a million other time travel concepts. I think it would be cool if Frank was involved. We know he was friends with Miss Holloway from Daddy and having a toy store owner and collector would be fun as hell to face off against Tinky. I think a Tinky show is also the perfect time to properly address the lore around the split timelines. We have some stuff but we could get more and now would be a great time as presumably the penultimate show.
As for the 5th show, this is understandably more amorphous. But if I'm right we're talking Blinky. I have a few vauge ideas of places it could head. So one is that they could focus on Rose from Killer track. She's a musician so performance is kind of her thing, maybe the band gets big and that deal with celebrity voyerism and spectacle. And hey I'd like to see her more developed. My other theory is linked with his reference in TTTO. So Jack Bauer mentioning "the watcher with a thousand eyes" in that show is an explicit forth wall break. Said watcher is the audience. And that makes me wonder if a Blinky show could lean into that more. Have the audience be Blinky in some way. And of this would presumably be the finale, a forth wall breaking ending could be a good way to bring closure to the fact that this is a split timeline. Or maybe go full TTTO hand have multiple endings the audience gets to choose. Like which ending they want. Maybe one apocalypse does have to happen so the audience gets to choose who's. This is way more speculative though.
As for setting for these two it's complicated. They like to set the shows at a black altar. But there's 5 and all 5 have already been settings. I think either it's completely new or Tinky is CCRP and Blinky is the starlight theatre. It kinda feels like it's stepping on Pokeys toes a bit but they're both more backdrops. I can't see either at the Wayland's (maaaaaybe Tinky because it's where the black book is in NPMD and Miss Holloway obviously uses it but eh) and Hatchetfield high is so clearly the setting for NPMD where as TGWDLM dots about places so much that there doesn't seem to be as definitively a setting. That being said I do think the high school is Blinkys alter and all the others have come through at their alter (Nibbly's being the Wayland's where grace gets the book) so maybe we get another teen show for blinky. But then again Miss Holloway is working at Hatchetfield high too now so maybe her show will be there as well. At the very least I think the finales will be at their set altars. Blinky comes through at the high school and Tinky at the CCRP
#hatchetfield universe#starkid#lords in black#miss holloway#nightmare time#nibblenephim#nibbly#pokey#pokotho#blinky#blinklotep#tinky#t'noy karaxis#wiggly#wiggog y'wrath#npmd#nerdy prudes must die#black Friday#the guy who didn't like musicals#TGWDLM
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I saw that recent post you made writing out how you view all the Avatar characters, and in it, you mentioned that your opinion of the characters has changed a lot in the past year and a half (I can't believe it's been that long since ATWOW!)
So how did your opinion of the characters change and why? Who changed the most radically? I'd love to hear your thought process!
Warning: yapping ahead
My opinion changed as I began consuming content from different people in the fanbase, as I sadly started out my journey relegated to mostly the recom side of the fandom.
A very specific vision I’ve formed was one of him and Neytiri. Her and Spider are two individuals forced to be close by circumstance, and not necessarily liking each other but they’re known each other for so long that they know each other, you know? The way I see it, they can’t pretend to be strangers, and their argument in the high ground comics, which is the only time any of the children oppose Neytiri makes me think that this is the dynamic going on between them.
Being a Spider fan outside of the recom space was a horrible experience for many of my mutuals, and I heard from more than one person that just liking the character earned them death threats, so I kept to the only space where he was actually liked, which uh…may or may not have been a bit of an echo chamber.
First months after ATWOW came out the opinions were extremely polarising and there was little depth to go around. I realised later on though, I didn’t have to pick a side and didn’t have to force myself to forgive Quaritch, because I never wanted to. I didn’t have to see him as either a 🥺baby gworl🥺 or an emotionless monstrosity.
As I said before, the essays made by Quaritch fans sold me at first. They seemed to provide a lot of proof and I was on board with the identity crisis theory, but as time went on I believed it less and less. Looking at the movie with fresh eyes months later, I formed and opinion of my own and that is — That recom Quaritch is an amalgamation of his past self and the Na’vi instincts/perspective of his new body. He’s a fucked up soup that is, in a way, different than his human predecessor but not different enough to be considered a wholly separate creature. If human Quaritch was a dying garden then recom Quaritch is that same garden decayed to the core, with one single flower emerging amongst the rot, not yet consumed by it. (That flower being his fatherhood obv)
I went from seeing him as a man perhaps capable of redemption and seeing value in Pandora, to a man who, while not enjoying violence per ce, obviously doesn’t give much of a damn about the moon or its habitat or its many cultures. All that matters to Quaritch is that these things matter to his son, so he’ll entertain them and go easy on the destruction, just for him. He doesn’t yet accept Pandora, not fully, but he accepts that Spider does so. That is about his only good quality.
The way I began to see it, Socorro is somewhat his only functioning organ. A breathing lung in an otherwise dead body. Miles hasn’t felt anything but manic happiness and rage for as long as we knew him on screen, and that only changed when he stood in the boy’s presence, constantly challenged by him, and brought out of his comfort zone over and over again. He needs him to be remotely alive and likeable to the audience. He needs him to be something more than a chained army dog.
That brings me to my next point; my other big change in perspective was one of his dynamic with Spider. The more I analysed the franchise the more I came to conclusion that Miles is just an unbearable softie for him, and it was really the deleted scenes and the fact that Spider has a new bow in the ikran taming scene that sold me. He not just likes Spider, he loves him, to death. His sacrifices might not seem sufficient, but for his character, they‘re very much drastic, as Miles is traditionally not a loving person.
Quaritch is canonically a traitor to the RDA because he jeopardised his mission three times in a row, all for a single child. His inner father and colonel are constantly fighting each other, as he knows what he should be focusing on, but can’t resist being a father; having priorities of his own. He was an old fool who thought he could have his cake and eat it too; make Spider safe and happy and be a colonel at the same time, but in the end he made up his mind on what matters more, and it’s Spider. The way I see it now is; Quaritch is only truly loyal to Spider. He can hate it, but he can’t run from it.
#atwow#avatar way of water#atwow quaritch#recom quaritch#miles quaritch#atwow spider#spider socorro#avatar spider#avatar 2#avatar the way of water
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holy shit you guys, look, there's more.
bg3 culinary headcanons: Absolute Edition
- Minthara: would accidentally fit in as the Addams Family home chef (and be angry about it). Gomez would praise her assassination attempts which flusters her (internally) because she's cooking with the normal amount of poisonous mushroom and not an attempted murder amount (and also she would hate loud, in-your-face-chaotic Gomez SO MUCH. if she wanted him dead, he would be dead, do not insult her assassinating abilities). makes the coolest Halloween party food until you realize it's not fun, spooky-mimicry decoration, those are real black widows on those cupcakes (what? they're venom and merlot flavored) (she used cricket flour, too). you don't know where she gets the "red" for her red velvet cakes, but you *do* know that ignorance is bliss and this is a pretty bitchin' birthday cake, so don't think too hard and just eat it
- Dark Urge (pre-game/embrace): slaughterhouse nightmare aesthetic - chef's apron is leather and something more appropriate for blacksmithing, there are way too many cleavers around (why in the blue fuck is there a meat hook over a drain in the floor?). some people watch tv when they cook. some listen to music, podcasts, or nothing. Durge listens to the Toy Box killer kidnapping tape (not to be mixed up with the (not safe for LIFE) Tool Box killers torture tape. that one is for relaxing baths). watches Dahmer documentaries for culinary inspiration. Hannibal Lecter would find most Durge dishes tasteless and over the top.
- Ketheric: listen, he didn't want me to tell you this [so you did NOT hear it from me], but he actually doesn't eat. he has a symbiotic relationship with the bacteria and fungus that keep his body animated and undying (they're why his blood is black). he consumes rotten things to keep his corpse puppet fungus happy and the corpse puppet fungus allows him to keep his consciousness/sentience and keep serving Myrkul. Myrkul's cool with it, as long as his bidding continues to get done
- Orin: Martha Stewart would have a nervous breakdown upon entering Orin's kitchen. the average person would consider Orin's cooking to be a hate crime. if someone doesn't vomit uncontrollably upon first sight, she considers it an insult (she grew up with a gross misunderstanding of what a Roman vomitorium is). her spaghetti and meatballs is wrapping a handful of uncooked noodles in unseasoned ground meat (she neither knows nor cares whether it's fish or chicken or cow. meat is meat), then baking it in a casserole dish sprinkled with still-condensed tomato soup from a can. Midwestern casserole cooking brought to you by Hell. doesn't use salt because she finds it too spicy. she has an entire pantry section for savory jello
- Gortash: culinary techbro. kitchen is spilling over with unitasker gadgets ("and THIS contraption evenly distributes heat for the perfect boiled egg! what do you mean 'what else does it do'. it boils eggs perfectly i already told you, why the fuck weren't you listening"), and the most stupid, overengineered 'smart' devices ("no no no, you don't understand, this is so helpful. the fork connects to the plate to measure the temperature of the food, and then the plate changes color to warn me if it's too hot, and then i don't burn my tongue, because i really hate that"). despite all of the pricey kitchen shit that he keeps buying, he's skilled at making exactly one dish: microwaved Totino's pizza rolls
(i'm sorry if Gortash is out of character; my brain replaced his voice with John Oliver's and won't put the original back)
if you want more bg3 culinary headcanons, there's also: the Companion Edition
#soldat buck wrote something#bg3 minthara#minthara#minthara baenre#bg3 ketheric#ketheric thorm#bg3 dark urge#bg3 durge#durge#dark urge#bg3 orin#orin the red#enver gortash#bg3 gortash#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#culinary headcanons#bg3 culinary headcanons#bg3 hcs#bg3 headcanons#the dead three
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