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nerdygirlramblings · 1 month ago

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finally, the courting contract and Ren's response

You leave the briefing off-kilter. You didn't expect to ever put yourself in Spinner's orbit again, assuming Laswell would connect him to his nefarious doings other ways. But you can't shake the image of him holding you close, the predatory look in his eyes as he told you he didn't believe in putting birds in cages. The way you could tell he wanted to put you in one. No matter how much you want to get back to normal, especially after your heat, you know you can't go back on your scent blockers. That thought is almost more upsetting, and from the soft grunt behind you, you know Ghost can smell your distress. You'd told Price a few weeks back you could control your scent, but you're doing a shit job of that now.

As if called by your thoughts, the smell of his autumn fire invades your senses as a warm hand falls on your shoulder. "Why don't ya take the afternoon, Ren. Tha' was a lot ta come back ta, yeah?"

You want to jump on his excuse, use it to get some space, but between the heat and being told you'll have to try get Spinner's attention, your omega is begging you to stay here with your pack where it's safe. Except they aren't your pack, you grudgingly remind her. They might not want to be your pack. And she does nothing but howl and weep at that thought. Knowing your scent is still laced with distress, you try to dial it back enough to softly say, "I think I just need ta rest a bit."

"Well then," Soap pipes up from somewhere behind you, "why don't we all head to the barracks. Nothing needs doin' right away. Ye can go shopping wi' Adam tomorrow."

Before you can respond either way, Price speaks up, "Actually, Soap, that's brilliant. Let's head off base for a little. Maybe hit the shops, get some scran. Can't promise we'll be as helpful as Adam, but I bet we can help ya find something."

Two hours later, you find yourself in a shopping center near base, different from the retail park you’d gone to with Adam for the first op. Though he'd warned you they wouldn't be as helpful as Adam, Price surprises you when he pulls out several tasteful dresses in a style similar to the first one. Holding them up, question clear on his face, you can't help but smile and nod. A sales clerk comes over, glancing hesitantly between you all, the others intimidating even in their civvies, and asks, "Can I get a room started for you?" He directs the question at you despite Price holding the dresses.

"Er, sure," you reply, watching him walk away with the clothes Price selected. Something in that action opens the floodgates as Gaz and Soap practically dive into dress racks. You smother the giggle that bubbles up at seeing your team trying to help pick a dress. Ghost's only contribution is taking pictures of the dresses and sending them to Adam. After the first six, Adam responds with pictures from the last few events supporting the dinner's nature charity.

While the auction was nearly black tie in attendee attire, the riot of color from the previous nature charity events sends Gaz running to put back nearly every dress they've found so far. Instead he and Soap start grabbing anything jewel-toned. Frills and layers, silks and chiffons, it all ends up over the changing room door. One after the other, you try the on the fabric concoctions. At first, you simply slip a dress on, note how it looks and feels, and move on. It’s when Soap calls out, “Ach, lass, how long does a little dress take?”

The teal fabric falls back around your ankles. “Er…did ya want ta see them?” you tentatively call.

Sounds of a scuffle reach you, a yelp and the distinct sound of fabric being slapped. “Ignore ‘im lass,” Price calls. “Unless ya actually want ta show us.” There’s a hesitant note in his voice. It feels out of place and warms you imagining him nervous in the waiting area.

Thankfully, the teal dress is fit, so you walk back out, watching your feet instead of their reactions. The silence at your appearance stretches for long, uncomfortable seconds until you finally glance up. Ghost is gripping the arms of the chair he’s sitting in, muscles tight. Price’s lips are rolled together, and you can’t tell what he’s holding himself back from saying, though based on how wide his eyes are, you hope it isn’t bad. Soap is literally hanging on the edge of his seat, and Gaz simply looks awe-struck. You take a breath to calm your nerves before saying, “If this is yer reaction ta each dress, we’ll be here all day.”

Soap barks out a strained laugh, saying, "Wouldnae mind at all."

"Well, ya really did put the whole shop in the changing room. I can't promise ta come out in everything, yeah? I do'n really want ta be here all day."

They don't respond as you walk back to the gowns they picked out. You already know the taffeta of the blue one will be too uncomfortable, and the one in an array of sunset colors won't let you move enough. They see the ombre pink with the asymmetrical hem and the deep purple velvet with virtually no back, but it's the white slip dress with silk overlay that elicits the most reaction. The fabric whispers over your skin, and with hidden slits along the front and the back that make it easy to move in. The silk layer has a riot of tropical looking flowers on it: deep pink blooms and bright yellow petals curling over vibrant green leaves and little blue blossoms.

When you step into the waiting area, you're startled by a deep purr reminiscent of a Bristol Fighter. The surprised looks on Price's, Gaz's, and Soap's faces show you how uncommon it is for Ghost to react like this. Price quickly gets over it as the purr fades off almost as fast as it came on. "Yer a sight," he says, looking at you. You want to hide from the intensity of his gaze but your omega won't let you.

"I think that's the one," Gaz says.

Your smile is tentative but warm. "I think so," you reply. "Let me get back into my civvies an' we can grab some supper."

You put the unselected dresses on the rack by the changing room and pass the white dress to Price. Ghost is standing awkwardly near the shop entrance, but you don't see or hear Gaz and Soap. Eyebrow raised, you look at your Captain, asking, "Where are the others?"

"Said they needed ta grab somethin' and ta meet 'em at Chinese," Price tells you, large, scarred hand carefully taking the dress bag from the salesman. He herds you in front of him, gently brushing his fingertips along your low back as you precede him. Ghost joins you as you leave, trailing in Price's wake.

The Chinese is a large buffet on the other side of the shopping center. At this time of day, it isn't too busy, but you hear Price mention the base, and when the hostess leads you into the restaurant, it's to a table in the back, facing the door. Price and Ghost sit on the outer edges, herding you into the center seat. Gaz and Soap aren't here yet, but they'll be able to see you when the get here.

It's strange to be sat between your captain and your leftenant, silent as they both currently are, but the wait for the others isn't long. Soap spots you immediately and heads straight for the table, nearly knocking into a poor pensioner carrying a plate piled with desserts to his table. Gaz isn't much better, weaving around other patrons for the fastest route to where you are. As they sit, both men share the same smug look.

"Jus' show 'er," Ghost grunts, looking at the sergeants.

"Ren, lookit wha' we found fer ye!" Soap whisper shouts, putting a flat felt box on the table. He's watching you the way Mama usually watches the triplets on Christmas, eyes alight with anticipatory glee.

You reach out, flipping the lid up and sit back, a little startled, and then shocked and surprised that the kaleidoscope of butterflies isn't taking flight. There are several different sizes and colors, a riot of piercing blues, vibrant yellows, rich-hued oranges, and deep reds framed in pitch black or pure white. It isn't clear what they're made of, but they're all paused mid-flight in a large arcing collar that will protect your neck. Glancing between Gaz and Soap, you blink back tears. "It's...it's lovely," you choke out. "But it's too much. I remember Laswell's budget for my clothes the first time, and between the dress and this, I know we've gone over."

"Consider it a courting gift," Price murmurs, shocking you straight to your core. The gasp that escapes is entirely unconscious. You try to gather the words for a response, shifting to see Price better, but he continues talking without looking over at you. "We've been wantin' ta talk wi' ya about courtin', about yer place in the pack, for a while now."

Ghost make a noise that can only be a grunt of agreement, and Gaz and Soap are nodding encouragingly. It's only when he turns to look you in the eye do you realize the agreement and encouragement weren't for you, weren't to show you they all want you, though that's a secondary effect, it was to shore up your captain who's looking as uncomfortable as the day he mentioned Ghost's rut. Is he scared of your reaction?

"Told ya when I offered ya the spot on the team we were open ta courtin' ya," Price reminds you. "What I didn't say was we'd already agreed we wanted ta court ya if ya were willin'."

"But," you stammer, "ya didn't even know me! How could ya want ta court me?"

"Because yer amazing, Ren," Gaz says, smiling gently, trying not to spook you. "We knew what others were sayin'. We knew ya were strong and capable. Hell, we knew a few alphas made arses of themselves tryin' ta court ya all the wrong ways." Ghost chuckles darkly, and you wonder if they know about the alpha you'd put in medical.

"When ya had yer heat," Price says, drawing your attention to him again, "we drew up a courtin' contract." He places a single page on the table in front of you. It's shockingly short but thorough, stating that the 141 Pack would like to court you. "The 141 Pack will, in the course of their courting of the omega, never impinge on the omega's career or make demands that demean or diminish the omega's service. As much as is possible, the integrity and safety of the pack will come before everything else; no member of the pack will be transferred off the 141 task force unless a specific request is made, in writing and with the consent of all pack members, to both Captain Price and Station Chief Laswell. During the courting, the pack will find non-barracks lodging that meets the omega's needs for a nest and / or other safe space. After the courting period, the pack may maintain this lodging or find alternate housing that continues to meet the needs of the pack. All members of the 141 Pack will take shared compassionate leave for any ruts or heats that arise in order to support the impacted pack member(s). Non-compassionate leave is not required to be shared by any members of the pack. At no time either during or after the courting process is the omega obligated to undergo a full bonding / claiming."

Tucked at the bottom is the kind of clause the military requires: "If the courting is unsuccessful, all pack and non-pack members would still be considered valued member of the 141 task force. However, if desired, any pack or non-pack member of the task force may request a transfer which will be supported with full-throated recommendations of service from both Station Chief Laswell and Captain Price."

It's everything you would ever want from a pack: the space and support to be you. You knew the team had your back before, but to see it laid out so unequivocally makes your breath catch in your chest. Looking at the paper, with signatures already from the four men around you, Laswell, and the base commander, you whisper, "This doesn't feel real." You swipe at the tears you can't control, catching them before they hit the page. You look up at Gaz and Soap who are wearing warring expressions of yearning and fear, vacillating in that space between achieving your dream and having it destroyed.

"'S real, luv," Ghost whispers, putting a hand over yours. "We wan' ya ta be our omega."

Somehow you find the strength to nod your head and softly say, "Okay." You're staring at your hand under Ghost's, so you don't see their faces, but it's impossible to ignore the way Ghost's hand tightens infinitesimally on yours, or the whoop of glee from Soap, or Price's heavy hand as it drops to your thigh while he leans over and says, "Thank ya for givin' us a chance, Ren."

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#cod #poly!141 #poly!141 x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #omegaverse #omegaverse 141 #omegaverse tf 141 #a/b/o #a/b/o 141 #a/b/o tf 141 #johnny mactavish #kyle garrick #simon riley #john price #fierce wars and faithful loves #nerdygirl says

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evilminji · 2 years ago

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Oh shit :D ?

I just remembered! (Thank you, historical fantasy section!) But like? Serving and protecting The King, especially a HIGH KING, is quite literally not just an incredible honor... but it can sometimes be a person's Life Ambition?

Specificly a WORTHY king.

Perhaps they were denied in life. Perhaps they FAILED. And in their dying moments struggle with all they were to LIVE. To PROTECT. Perhaps the PREVIOUS king was a great and worthy ruler... but their heir is...

Unworthy.

Maybe they are born to an age without Rulers. Power shifting between hands in hidden halls. Unclear and murky. All they want is for their loyalty to MEAN something. For things to be SIMPLE.

The universe is large. The Infinite Realms? Unimaginably larger.

And Pariah Dark was a BASTARD.

Who would willingly swear to him? Fools! That's who! Every warrior soul worth ANYTHING gets as far AWAY from his Realm forsaken resting place as they can. Hides. Lest they be dragged in to his infernal, gods forsaken, cess pit of a so called "army"! *disgusted spitting noises*

But what does this mean? It means every trained FIGHTER... got the hell out of dodge. Oh, sure, a FEW refused. Like Pandora and her people. But most? The farthest side of NOWHERE, several layers down! Some still GOING! Better to be decried as cowards then have ANYTHING to do with THAT(said with loathing)!

It also means they weren't where Pariah could get to them when he woke. Couldn't help. Couldn't fight. Couldn't be commanded to kneel. Nothing. They removed themselves completely. Planned on CONTINUING to remove themselves. Preferably to the farthest reaches of forever, far beyond the bastard's gaze.

But! The whole REALM INFINITE felt it? When that... that hissing, acidic, malicious undertone? SLAMS back and away, like somebody's knocked a parasite from their backs. Replaced by coolness and starlight. Delicate balance and blood on your teeth. The pounding in your chest of HOPE.

It flutters so small across their backs, inside their chests. Washing away the old.

The King... feels tiny. Young.

.......what are they doing? Running like this. Hiding away like that will change anything. How long... when did...

There are so many of them now. A veritable army of souls, of all Ages and People's. Every armor and crest imaginable. They'd been so.. so REPULSED by Pariah... nothing else had mattered but to get AWAY. Where even ARE they? What YEAR is it? Does any of that matter?

The King.

Their Obsessions whisper. Loyalty. Service. Protection. Honor. You have left you post! Abandoned your DUTY! What are you DOING!?

They are AGHAST. They turn around at once. The King! How could they have ABANDONED the King!? Who is guarding him if they are all HERE?!

Himself!?

(Yes. Danny is fine. He is eating the "Thank You for keeping us all from dying to whatever the FUCK that was!" tamales Paulina's mom pushed into his arms on his way back home. He didn't even try arguing. He made eye contact and knew he would lose.)

(Why does he feel like something really, really bothersome is headed his way?)

It's UNACCEPTABLE. Unthinkable! The King? Unguarded? Where assassination attempts and nefarious PLOTS could occur?! What if someone tried to steal his eggs!? Or attacked him while his exoskeleton was molting!? They aren't entirely sure which species he is yet, but there are SO MANY NEFARIOUS PLOTS OUT THERE!!

*panicked honor guards*

Just? Imagine becoming king. And thinking "well, aside from the skeleton army I have to figure out, at least I don't have to manage anybody!" Only to *WABAM!* your ENTIRE GHOST COURT shows up like a week later. Turns out they were hiding from your predecessor.

You have a whole ass honor gaurd. Who REFUSE TO LEAVE YOUR SIDE. You have Chefs. Who WILL cry if you send them away. The Literal Best In The Multiverse are all following you around... YOU, a RANDOM TEENAGE, with Excited Shoujo Sparkles in their eyes... because you punched a jackass really, REALLY hard.

There is no way to make this stop. Your friends are laughing at you. The interior decorator wants you to look at swatches. What are swatches and why are you being harrased by them at 1am, you wonder? If you are Mean(tm) they throw themselves upon the floor and blame themselves for their Wicked, Evil, King-Upseting Ways and you can't even TELL if your being played here.

It's like being bullied by house elves. Or Miette.

Your parents are too excited by all the New Research (at least the reveal went well?) To SAVE THEIR SON, and your sister is HELPING THE ENEMY (Traitor!), so now you're being bullied into eating vegetables and studying more.

Then? THEN!! WHO SHOWS UP?! Like... five WEEKS late?! The Justice League. Gee! GREAT RESPONSE TIME, GUYS! Reeeal snappy! But ya, JUST missed the guy!

.......YES HES BEING SARCASTIC!!!

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt

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ghouljams · 2 months ago

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So bestie, can we get a bit more 1860s! Price? I'm beggin. I'm a sucker for men who want it so bad and women that don't quite reject them.

He so rarely comes into your clinic that you turn your blade on the deputy as soon as hands grab your hips.

"John," relief colors your sigh, and you lower your knife back to the table, content that you're not being stolen away by anyone nefarious, just being bothered by a terrible flirt.

"Any way to greet your future husband?" He chuckles, leaning against your back to push his face against your neck. His beard tickles, but his lips are soft where they trace your pulse.

"Thought you were buildin' me a house." His hum vibrates against your skin. He's warm, soaked up too much of the sun, and it seeps into your skin even through your clothes.

"Heat's gettin' to me." He presses the words into your skin and you shiver. It's getting to you too, soaking you with sweat so that you'll roll up your shirtsleeves, hitch your skirts higher in the privacy of your practice. John's hands trace over your waist, over the seam of your skirt, finding the bones of your corset and following them down and up, down and up. Dizzying.

You push back into him, eager to find him hard, to feel the press of him against you. It's improper, but you're just as subject to the throbbing between your thighs as any man would be. Perhaps more so when it's John that leans his weight against you and grinds his cock against you with a lazy reassurance that he has nothing to do, and nowhere to be but here with you.

"Let me clear space," you fumble through the words, your fingers scraping over the wood of your work desk, mind attempting to catch on what needs to be put away and what can merely be shoved to the side.

"What for?" John rumbles, his hands are already searching, already tugging your skirts up, "Don't let me distract you sweet'eart, keep workin'."

Easier said than done. Your hands are unsteady even as you place them flat against the table, body shivering in anticipation as stagnant air greets your legs. John's fingers sweep between your thighs as quickly as he can get your skirts raised to do so, rough pads swiping through your folds, seeking out the already slick hole that lays between them. It's the heat, it melts sense out of the mind, makes your normally logical thoughts stutter to a halt as one of those fingers presses in, in, in to your cunt.

You make a choked noise, sound trapped behind your rips and your head bowed. You stare at your splayed fingers and try to remember what you were doing before John came in. Some spread of herbs covers the table, ergot, maybe. John's finger draws in and out of you, pushing and pulling at the slowly built heat that bubbles so low in your gut. The warmth of the movement spreads over your skin, tingling with each scrape of his palm against your bottom, with each drag of his knuckle against your entrance.

You push back into the feeling and he clicks his tongue. You're supposed to be working. He moves one of your hands to the knife you'd held, and slips his finger free to circle the digit around your clit. Knives are the last thing you should be handling, but you take it, grip it with too tight fingers and begin separating the leaves from their stems again.

"There you go," John rubs his finger over your clit, and you press the blade of your knife against the table as you squeeze your eyes shut against the feeling. "Just take it slow."

Slow is all you can manage with him touching you. His finger returns to working you open while you slice leaves like molasses through snow. Each slice precise and agonizingly long. The pump of John's finger turns one into two, stroking at your walls, searching with each crook of his fingers. You clench around them, feel the bones of his fingers drag against your soft walls, callused and worn skin meeting the most delicate parts of you.

"Like velvet," John husks against your ear, "you give me the world I'll wrap this pussy so tight around my cock you'll never walk away again."

It's all too tempting like this. Too easy to let whines slip free of your lips, to try and force his hand without giving him a word. To arch your back and wiggle your hips and tempt the way you've seen girls at the saloon tempt. It's the heat, the sun beating down on the world and turning men into animals. Singularly focused, desperate, needy as the moan that finds voice when John's free hand finds your throat.

"Want ta feel you say it." He squeezes his fingers, lips scraping your ear, "Fuck me." Your breath shudders out of you, words failing just to feel the bare of his teeth when he repeats himself. "Fuck me."

John's always hated repeating himself.

"Fuck me," You fold, voice lost to the empty room, words for no one but John Price.

You barely mourn the loss of his fingers before the head of his cock notches against your entrance. Sinful, that's the only word for the burning stretch, for the sinking, the swallowing of your cunt around him. Each rocking of his hips eases another inch inside, knocks another breath from your lungs. He finds the deepest pit of you, pushing his hips against your ass and circling them, knocking that aching darkness until it feels like it'll swallow you whole.

"Thought you needed a house," John hums.

"We can add an extra room," You murmur, turning your head to try and catch his eye. His hand moves, cradling your jaw to keep your head tipped when he wants. Your neck twinges from the stretch, but you can't seem to bring yourself to care when his lips find yours and his hips begin to thrust.

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bvidzsoo · 22 days ago

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OH MY GOODNESS 3.5k THATS SO AWESOME YOU SHOULD BE PROUD 🫶🫶 can i ask for prompts 3 and 9 with pirate au wooyo 😁 but also possibly mix it with royal au …. maybe ….

Neverland's treasure

Pairing: pirate!Jung Wooyoung x princess!female reader

५ TW: mentions of: violence, murder, human trafficking, slavery, death, and weapons (not graphic) ५ Word count: 6k ५ Genre: fluffy, slightly angsty; pirate and royal au; rivals alluding to more; inspired by 'Pirated of the Caribbean' if you squint hehe; @cromernet ५ Rating: pg-13 ५ Prompt(s): 3: Aw, you're blushing like a rose. / 9: You're staring again.

A/N: Aaack, anonie!! I literally kicked my feet so hard when I saw your request! This was so much fun to write, I really loved your request lol. The premise with those prompts was just too good...I hope you'll like this, I certainly did write both worlds into this (royal x pirate? hell yeah, anonie!) I hope you'll like this ^^ You can find the prompts here, request are open until the 8th! This drabble also made me reminiscent of my pirate/prince!woo oneshot called Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Let me know what you think of this drabble, enjoy! ^^ divider

Some believed that if you wanted to be a pirate, you just had to be born as one. Your Captain, however, believed that if one was determined enough, one could become a pirate without issues. Sure, you’d have to let go of previous inhibitions and beliefs, but when you grew up in a corrupted kingdom, it wasn’t hard to turn a blind eye to crime. You knew that sounded awful, but when life gave you no choice, you had to adapt whether you liked it or not. And somehow you realised you liked it like this. Being a pirate was a lot more fun than being a princess, forced to rot away in your castle while your evil stepmother plotted to conquer your kingdom, forcing you to marry a man you had never met, who could be twice your age or barely born. The thought made you shudder even now, it made you grateful that you ran away when you had. It wasn’t easy to navigate the big world on your own for the first three months. You couldn’t stay in your kingdom where everyone recognised your face, and you also couldn’t sail to one that was affiliated with yours. And that left you with few options, too few ones.

But Aurora was a faraway land, the land of no man, the land of the wicked, the land of those who never sleep. And whoever has said that was right. Every sound made you jump at first when you had just freshly arrived, and the lock on the room you were renting at the Inn didn’t make you feel safe even in the least. It was terrible, you thought about giving up and going back to your kingdom, but then you remembered your harpy of a stepmother and your deceased father who’s been an angel his whole life, who has raised a warrior and not a princess. So, gulping down your fear, you braved through the streets of Aurora and tried to make yourself less visible when it wasn’t necessary, tried to act like you hadn’t been brought up between silk sheets and maidens that catered to your every wish. You were afraid that the outlaws could smell your royal blood, but when you ran into them at the seamstress you were working along with, they didn’t bat an eyelash in your direction, too busy barking out orders to the poor woman who seemed to quiver under their gazes.

And in that boutique is how you found yourself running into the nefarious Barbarossa, a rip off of the one and only fearsome pirate that has long since perished. You laughed when the man introduced himself, then snorted when he glared at you with his sharp eyes. It was hilarious. He looked too young to be the Captain of a ship, and he certainly did not look like he’d been born to be a pirate. He reminded you of yourself back then—when you hadn’t yet known his princess-like character—sharp gaze trying to mask his fear, his rigid back nothing but a façade of a boy trying to navigate the big scary world.

“Well, will you sow the costume for me?” The pirate with his raspy voice asked, sighing like he was already tired of you. You grinned before you looked around, making sure the madam wasn’t there as you leaned over the counter, motioning for the Captain to come closer. He quirked an eyebrow and smirked, handsome, but you weren’t here to flirt.

“Let’s make a deal, Barbarossa.” You said low, your expression turning serious, “I saw the costume for you, and in exchange, you make me part of your crew.”

The pirate frowned, tilting his head, “Now why would I do that? A woman is of no use on my ship to me—unless you want to be my whore?”

Your jaw clenched as you glared at the Captain, but you weren’t giving up just yet. You wanted out of Aurora, and most importantly, you wanted revenge on your stepmother. The kingdom was rightfully yours, and if this pirate helped you conquer it, you’d pay him back heftily.

“A woman is of much use, but it seems like men haven’t realised that yet,” You chuckled, reaching out to grab his necklace, twirling the black pearl between your fingers, “Let me tell you a secret, Captain Barbarossa. If you help me out, half of Wonderland’s treasure will be yours. We can shake on it right now; I hate people who don’t keep their promises.”

The man’s eyebrows furrowed, his expression shifting from disinterest and amusement to curiosity, “And how could you give me Wonderland’s treasure, you pure maiden who works in a seamstress boutique?”

“Did you hear that Wonderland’s one and only princess disappeared?” Your lips slowly pulled into a smirk as you stared the pirate down, his expression now morphing into that of confusion.

“I have, but what does it have to—” The Captain gasped as his eyes rounded, watching you more attentively now. You chuckled as you placed your chin in your palms, humming.

“Say, handsome, want to help me take down my evil stepmother?” You bated your eyelashes at the bewildered Captain, whose eyes now sparked with excitement as if he had gotten his hands on a forbidden and long-lost treasure. You chuckled when he leaned in so close that your noses almost touched, his wicked smirk matching yours.

“Oh my, Princess Song, did you know we are last-name relatives?” You tilted your head as the man giggled to himself, his demeanour had completely shifted from the wannabe intimidating pirate into someone…younger and boyish, “Wonderland hasn’t wronged just you, princess, it has ruined my life, too. I say we have a deal.”

“Good.” You grinned, extending your hand to shake on it with the Captain, but he stepped back and spit in his palm, extending it towards you. You grimaced, but realising it was a pirate way to seal a promise, with a sigh, you spit in your hand too.

“Ah!” The man pulled his hand slightly back as your fingers touched, “I get half of Wonderland’s treasure and a handsome young lad…or maiden, I suppose.”

You chuckled, giving the man an amused look, “You can take whomever you’d like as long as you respect them.”

“A pirate respects only one person,” Your spit-laden palms finally touched as you shook on your deal, “The Captain.”

You snorted, walking around the counter and wiping your hand in your dress, “A bit self-centred, aren’t you?”

You didn’t flinch when the much taller pirate slung his arm around your shoulders, leaning his heavy body into your side, “A self-accomplished man always loves himself first and foremost, you should try loving me, too. Perhaps I won’t have to find someone in Wonderland—”

“Not happening,” You scoffed, walking towards the exit with the pirate you knew nothing about. This could’ve been your biggest mistake or your biggest accomplishment. And you’d find out very soon.

“Fine,” The pirate scoffed and glared at you for a second, then he opened the door for you as he called out loudly, “Sorry Madam Füller, I’ll be stealing your lovely princess for now.”

“Shut up!” You hissed, elbowing the Captain in the ribs, “Nobody here knows I’m a princess.”

“No?” The man frowned, his plush lips pouty, “But everyone knows I am a prince, though.”

You froze mid-step, your eyebrows furrowing as the pirate was halted to a stop, his expression questioning. You stared up at him as the clogs started turning in your head, and your mouth dropped open when you realised who this man was, “You’re Song Mingi?!”

The pirate just giggled without giving you an answer, pulling you along, down the dirty cobbled paths of Aurora as his arm tightened around your shoulders whenever a man looked at you too long. You couldn’t believe you landed yourself on a fake pirate’s ship, a self-proclaimed Captain, done on a whim out of boredom by the richest prince in the Seven Seas and Kingdoms. Oh, you had either signed up for doom or the biggest journey of your life.

Dear reader, don’t be misled by prejudice, as the princess was. Song Mingi, despite his posh accent and naïve attitude, was anything but that. He was cunning and strategic, he knew how to charm the pants off anyone, and he wasn’t afraid to dirty his hands with blood. He was a fearsome pirate out on the seas, respected by other crews. It hadn’t taken you long to realise that he was not only respected but feared by his own crew, too. They didn’t cross the captain and they did everything they were told without questioning him much. It was only you who wasn’t afraid of the prince, and his Quartermaster, who looked bored as Mingi paced up and down in his quarters. You had docked down two days ago, preparing for a hit never heard or seen before. It was risky, but Mingi was ballsy, and greedier for gold than his own Quartermaster who grew up having nothing.

“We have to set someone up for a lookout.” Mingi repeated as his eyebrows furrowed, his lips downturned, “We are compromising ourselves if all three of us are going in tonight.”

“Nothing will happen,” You groaned, adding some pearls to your dress as a finishing touch-up. Your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as you were hunched over Mingi’s desk, your dress’ fabric had been an expensive import from Madam Füller, “You are being a bloody pussy again. Our last hit was a success, wasn’t it?”

Mingi halted at your words, whirling around with a slightly hysterical expression on his face, “A hit?!”

The Quartermaster sighed as he came to sit down across from you, giving you an annoyed expression now that you’ve set Mingi off again. The Captain stormed up to you and slammed his hand down on the table, but nobody even so much as flinched. He was throwing a tantrum, three years on this ship had desensitised you to his tantrums.

“Our ship was on fire for almost two hours, princess!” Mingi snapped, making you roll your eyes at him. He always called you a princess when he tried to remind you that you were inferior to him on this ship, acting as if he wasn’t of the same blue blood as you, “The carpenters needed a month to rebuild what we lost! We couldn’t sail for two months, princess! That bloody rat-infested pirate crew stole our treasure—”

“No, Mingi, they just got to it before us.” You huffed, looking up at him with a bored expression, “It’s not stolen if it wasn’t owned by anyone.”

“And Hongjoong’s ship isn’t rat-infested.” The Quartermaster added with a mutter, setting Mingi off again as he gripped his long hair, screeching like a girl. You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from laughing, but when you made eye contact with the Quartermaster, he was already looking at you and grinning in amusement.

“Of course, you’d say that!” Mingi snapped, “You’re only here because you argued with the man! You don’t even like me!”

“I never said that,” The Quartermaster sighed, his expression slightly falling, “I left Hongjoong because what he was doing did not align with my morals anymore.”

“But pampering Mingi all day does, huh, Seonghwa?” The man was glaring at you when you looked at him again, and you giggled as you got back to sewing the last three pearls on the collar of your dress.

“Enough!” Mingi screamed, rounding his table to shake Seonghwa out of his chair, “I cannot think if you two keep on making fun of me! We must be smart tonight. There will be too many important people at the ball—including royal blood who know me and probably the princess too, and—Hongjoong’s bloody crew will be there, too. If they get to the treasure before us—”

“How are we sure that the Neverland’s treasure will be there, though?” You pipped up as the cabin went silent. Seonghwa gulped as he looked at Mingi, who closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. The crew were shouting something above deck, their loud thumps echoing through the wooden structure as you glanced up. They were probably drunk already and it wasn’t even the afternoon yet.

“I spoke to…someone,” Mingi mumbled, not meeting your eyes. Seonghwa narrowed his at Mingi and placed his hands on the table as he leaned forward.

“Was it that seer again?” Mingi avoided Seonghwa’s eyes, so you both knew Seonghwa was right, “Kang Yeosang?”

“I trust him, alright!” Mingi exclaimed, looking at you with round eyes, “He’s always helped me…”

“And you still trust him after he joined Hongjoong’s crew?” Seonghwa was asking the important and logical questions here, you, however, were here just for the fun of it.

“Exactly, I’m surprised you like him still.” You chuckled, shrugging when Seonghwa gave you a look. Mingi didn’t say anything as his jaw clenched.

“Listen, I don’t care what you two think about me, but Yeosang has led me closer to finding…him.” Right, him, the man whose name no crew member dared speak—yourself included, “As for tonight, I think the princess should stay on the ship—”

“No!” You exclaimed, your eyes widening. Your grip on the dress tightened as both men looked at you, “The chances of my stepmother being there are high, I cannot miss it. Please.”

“And what will you do if you see her?” Seonghwa asked, eyebrows rising.

“You’ll know once I’m done with her.” You muttered lowly, making Mingi shudder before he sighed loudly, going lax in his chair. Seonghwa glanced at him before he walked to the closet and opened it, their fancy costumes stored away for safety issues.

“Alright, we better start getting ready if we want to get to our carriage in time.”

“How did you even get us a carriage, Seonghwa?”

“A jester never tells his tricks.”

“You’re not a jester, you’re just an idiot.”

“Prince Song, mighty of you to call your right-hand man an idiot.”

“Don’t call me Prince Song.”

“Then stop calling me a princess, you idiot.”

“Silence, both of you!”

You had forgotten how these royal balls could get. Your skin crawled as you watched another old nobleman trying to flirt with maidens, and if it wasn’t for Seonghwa dragging you away, they would’ve certainly noticed you. You got here a little past the time when the ball started, on purpose, as you hoped to be less noticeable. This was hard to achieve as Mingi was as handsome as any other prince in the room—which was to be expected, honestly—and Seonghwa could’ve been mistaken anytime for a young master in his expensive clothing, designed and sewn by you. The three of you were candy to the sore eyes, and despite never having enjoyed the attention, you revelled in it now as you realised some people did recognise you. You had even spotted the royal guard from your court, steering clear from their paths as it would compromise your mission way too early into the night.

For starters, you were supposed to scoop out the place, to socialise and consume whatever fancy champagne they handed you with gilded flakes in the bottom. Expensive and fancy drinks for the wealthiest people from all kingdoms. Seonghwa stared at it like it was poisonous before he drank it, eyeing Mingi for a reaction which never came. For someone who had run away at eighteen only, Mingi sure still carried himself like a prince, oftentimes still acting like one too. You, on the other hand, struggled to hold your spine straight and tense, thankful for Seonghwa who had tightened your corset so much you wondered how much time you had before you’d pass out. Hopefully, it only happened by the time you got back on the ship. And as for the plan…you weren’t doing too well, your attentive eyes searched the crowd, scowling at anything you didn’t like. The two men had left you on your own, meddling with the crowd and laughing as Mingi accepted a dance from a princess you hadn’t met before. You saw the shadow first before someone managed to sneak up on you, and you whirled around ready for a fight, only for you to drop the empty bottle of champagne you’d been nursing. It never hit the floor as the man caught it, smiling at you almost hesitantly.

“Yunho?” You whispered in shock, the wind knocked from your lungs, “Yunho!”

If there was one person you missed and regretted not taking with you from your kingdom, it was Jeong Yunho. You felt the tears in your eyes as you threw yourself into the arms of the much taller man, uncaring what the onlookers thought. You had to fight the sobs that tried to rip through your body as Yunho held you back just as tightly, burying his nose in the top of your head.

“I cannot believe I found you, my princess.” Your chuckle felt hollow as you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing the tears out which had been brimming your eyes. Yunho and you had known each other for most of your lives. Nobody dared say it, but he had been kidnapped by smugglers from a different kingdom and enslaved in yours. His one chance at having a relatively better life than all the other slaves lay in his beauty, in his gentle and soft-spoken nature. That’s how he eventually ended up in your court as a palace keeper, keeping your chamber dust-free and always aired. He was barely a few years older than you, and because your father felt bad for him, he had allowed the two of you to bond, to play, to spend time together once Yunho had taken care of his duties. But once your father died, the evil queen wanted to separate you from everyone in order to make you disappear from the court, Yunho included. You had no idea where he was or what he was up to until this moment, and you gripped his dress shirt tighter when he tried to pull away.

“I’m so sorry,” You whispered into your closest friend’s chest, heartbroken all over again, “I never meant to leave you behind, but I had no—”

“It’s alright, my princess.” Of course, Yunho was smiling when you pulled apart. He didn’t have one mean bone in his giant body; he couldn’t even hurt a fly. You sniffed and allowed Yunho to wheel you around so your body was shielded by the crowd by his larger build, “I knew you had to go, if you hadn’t…you might not be alive anymore. That queen is so wicked, she started killing our people. Everyone is terrified in Wonderland of her.”

You gulped, frowning when you heard that. You had to step up, you couldn’t let your people suffer anymore, they needed their true ruler, the one who cherished and loved them. Yunho recognised the anger in your eyes, the determination on your features, and he smiled as he petted your head, leaning down to be at eye level with you, “I always knew you’d be an amazing queen, my princess. Your people are waiting for you.”

“When I get rid of her,” You gulped, grabbing Yunho’s hand as your jaw clenched, “I will set you free, you’ll be allowed to go home, Yunho.”

An ashen look crossed Yunho’s features, something sad falling upon it, “My home now is wherever you are, my princess. You must be here with a purpose; how may I help?”

And that’s how you found out that Neverland’s treasure was a gilded necklace filled with the most expensive jewellery from all kingdoms, crafted with care by the best jewellers from Aurora—because despite its reputation, Aurora housed the best craftsmen from the Seven Seas and Kingdoms. And the treasure that Mingi and Hongjoong wanted was in no other’s possession but in your stepmother, glinting blindly around her neck. You jaw tensed as you watched her from the shadows play the coy and grieving queen, laughing with men who were way too young for her. But it was working, because as you watched her shoot Yunho an annoyed look, everyone around her was blinded by her charming and manipulative personality, completely missing the wicked glint in her eyes. Mingi tsked next to you, leaning closer.

“You’re one hundred percent sure it’s Neverland’s treasure, right?” He muttered, watching the queen’s every move as she accepted a glass of wine from her consultant. You nodded as you glared at her, noticing a man slowly approach her. His gait was familiar, and so was his blonde hair.

“Yes, Mingi, I know for sure it’s the necklace.” You muttered, your eyes widening when you realised who the man creeping up to the queen was, “Bloody hell, Jung Wooyoung!”

Mingi groaned, closing his eyes, “Hongjoong sent the most annoying person ever, great. Princess, whatever you do, don’t—”

But you were already walking closer, your glare set on the back of Wooyoung’s head. The two of you had a history. Even before you had left your kingdom to become a pirate and avenge your father and his legacy, you and Wooyoung had met, understandably under inconvenient circumstances. He was young and dumb—even though he got older, he was still the dumbest pirate you had met—so he tried to kidnap you straight from your chambers. He would’ve succeeded if Yunho and you wouldn’t have planned to have a secret sleepover that night, so the boy was able to fight Wooyoung off. That didn’t mean that you ever forgot the pirate’s face, forever engraved in your mind. Meeting him once would’ve been enough for a lifetime, but the seas’ gods had other plans for the two of you. Being part of Mingi’s crew meant coming across enemies, and since Wooyoung was part of Hongjoong’s crew, he posed a big threat.

When he whisked the queen away for a dance, you knew the treasure would be in his possession in no time, and you couldn’t allow that. So, you stepped into the crowd and grabbed a random man, leading the two of you closer to where Wooyoung and the queen danced. You made sure to keep your back to your stepmother as well as ignore the grinning man in front of you, sharp eyes set on Wooyoung’s every move. He was giggling as he spoke to the queen, but not for long.

The violins screeched as you were twirled around, and knowing that this was your only chance to catch Wooyoung, you tumbled forward into him. The man gasped as he grabbed you frantically, making sure you didn’t fall. You grinned to yourself and grabbed his arms, head hanging low, and then you pushed him away from the queen and the dense part of the crowd before he could realise it was you.

“My, my,” He chuckled, helping you stand up straight, “What a klutzy girl.”

“I know, right,” You chuckled, circling your arms around Wooyoung’s neck as he stiffened, “How convenient I stumbled into a gentleman like yourself.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened as you started swaying your bodies to the melody, making sure you kept away from people who could recognise the two of you.

“What are you doing here?” Wooyoung snapped, his eyebrows furrowing.

“The same thing as you,” You chuckled, eyes running down his body, appreciating his tight suit, “Searching for a companion to lay tonight with.”

Wooyoung spluttered, clearly taken off guard and you laughed, entertained when his cheeks flushed red. It wasn’t often you managed to take the man off guard, but it was always satisfying when you did, “Aw, you're blushing like a rose.”

Wooyoung scoffed and averted his eyes, scowling at you before he recovered from the embarrassment, “And have you found anyone suitable?”

You chuckled, shrugging as you looked around the room. You weren’t leaving without Yunho tonight, even if you had to frame it as a savage kidnapping. Seonghwa already knew about it and he was working on it. You didn’t want to update Mingi on the slight change of plans, you knew he’d have a mental breakdown neither one of you could afford right now. Mingi hated collecting strays and people who were of no use to him on his ship, but Yunho was worth more to you than Mingi’s rules.

“He’s holding me right now,” This time Wooyoung didn’t blush, he just smirked, pulling you closer until your bodies were flushed together.

“I always knew you liked me,” Wooyoung giggled, smoothing back your hair from your face, “All that fighting was just to create tension, huh?”

You let the knife slip into your palm from the sleeve of your dress, “If that’s what you’d like to believe, then certainly. Now, tell me, Wooyoung. How much longer until the queen notices that her necklace is missing?”

Wooyoung didn’t answer you as you smirked, pressing the sharp edge of your knife into his stomach, “We’ll walk outside without causing a scene, alright?”

The defiance on Wooyoung’s face was clear as day, but he didn’t say anything as he slowly nodded, twisting around in your hold as you leaned in and pressed a teasing kiss to his cheek. His skin was soft for a pirate, and he smelled of pine and salt, “I love it when you are a good boy, Wooyoung.”

The man hissed as his cheeks flamed again, and you chuckled as the two of you slowly slipped out of the room, looking around for Seonghwa. He was just behind Yunho, his eyes narrowed as you spotted the handgun in his hand. You knew Yunho was in safe hands as long as he didn’t try to be the bigger man, so you left the room without worrying about the Quartermaster or your closest friend any further. Mingi was still cruising the room, seemingly lost, and you almost laughed. For a Captain, he sure was lost more often than not when treasure hunting. You couldn’t wait to brag to him about capturing both Wooyoung and the necklace.

The hallways were empty despite the many people in the building, and you were glad they were desperate enough to socialise as this left you and Wooyoung alone. It didn’t take long for him to try and fight back, though, and you tsked when he tried elbowing you in the ribs, “Honey, you’ll have to be more creative than that.”

“Why am I being dragged away from the ball in the first place, honey?!” Wooyoung exclaimed like the prince he wasn’t, whiney and confused, and you chuckled in amusement.

“Don’t act coy with me now, pirate boy,” You leaned closer, your lips brushing against Wooyoung’s ear as he shuddered, “The queen’s necklace was gone after she danced with you.”

Wooyoung didn’t say anything for a second before he groaned, “Maybe it slipped off! Maybe someone found it on the floor! I don’t know why you’d think I have it!”

You laughed and pushed Wooyoung against the wall, his cheek mushed against the cold tile, “Now, Wooyoung…don’t tell me you haven’t heard of Neverland’s treasure. I know your Captain wants it, so he sent you, a little rat—”

“I prefer calling myself a fox, but whatever,” Wooyoung grumbled as he pushed you off, turning around so he was face to face with you. You raised an eyebrow, pressing the knife into his neck unthreateningly. For now.

“Empty your pockets for me, pirate boy.”

“If you stop calling me a boy.” Wooyoung shrugged, looking at you with mischief in his eyes, “But you won’t find anything on me—not the treasure or whatever. Why don’t we go to a room, and you’ll find out what I’m hiding—”

A crash came from a room close to the two of you, and you both stiffened as you looked to the side. You waited for a few moments with bated breaths, but nothing happened, so you looked back at Wooyoung with a glare. Your patience was running thin rather quickly, “Fine, little pirate, I won’t call you a boy anymore. Where is the treasure?”

You heard footsteps running down the hallway and you hissed, convinced that the queen realised by now that her necklace was stolen. The royal guard was coming after Wooyoung—and you, now that you were roped up with him. Whatever happened, though, you would not let them get their hands on Wooyoung…but he didn’t have to know that.

“Why don’t you feel me up, Princess Song?” You froze as you opened your mouth, taken off guard by his words, “Did you think we didn’t know? It’s only right someone like you associates themselves with Captain Barbarossa—what a joke.”

You huffed. You’d been nice so far, but you didn’t accept any disrespect to Mingi’s name, “You should watch your tongue, rat, one more comment about my Captain and I’ll cut your tongue off.”

“That would be a loss,” Wooyoung smirked as your jaw clenched, “I know quite the tricks with my tongue—”

“Hey! Those two there!” A deep voice shouted from the end of the hallway. Great, you had allowed yourself to be distracted by Wooyoung’s blabbering mouth again. Mingi will have your head if you let yourself be captured, “Catch those pirates!”

“At least they got that right,” Wooyoung remarked with a chuckle as you grabbed his arm and took off running instead of fighting the guards. You were outnumbered; it was of no use. What you had to do next was leave the palace in one piece and get Wooyoung on your ship. He was your prisoner; no royal guard could take him from you. But to get to the exit, you’d have to descend many flights of stairs, avoid the influx of other guards that were running towards you, and also come up with an escape plan which looked harder to come up with by the moment. You weren’t the best under pressure, and you yelped when Wooyoung suddenly pulled you inside a dark room, pressing you against the wall and muffling your mouth. Your breathing was ragged from running around, your chest heaving as Wooyoung’s sturdy body pressed into yours, keeping you from moving. The both of you stayed put as the guards ran past the room, their footsteps thundering. You grabbed Wooyoung’s wrist and pulled his hand off your mouth, searching his face.

“What?” He shrugged, his face so close to yours that you could feel his warm breath. He might’ve had one too many glasses of champagne, “A pirate looks out for a pirate, even if it’s the enemy.”

“Right.” You chuckled, then grabbed his arm and switched positions with him, “Now, where were we? Ah, right. Where did you put the necklace?”

“I’m starting to think you love pinning me against a wall. Does a submissive man turn you on?” Your eyes widened as Wooyoung cackled, the sound too loud in the dark room, “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m not that guy.”

“Stop changing the subject, you rat.” You hissed, no malice in your tone whatsoever. Before Wooyoung could retort back, light flooded the room, making you jump. The room you had stumbled inside was someone’s room, an elderly lady’s who looked quite confused. Before you could say anything, Wooyoung pushed you off and walked towards her, smiling charmingly.

“My lady, we had no idea this was your chamber,” Wooyoung bowed, and you watched with narrowed eyes as he grabbed the woman’s hand, leading her back to bed, “How rude of us not to check first. Will you forgive us?”

The lady chuckled as she let herself be tucked back into bed by Wooyoung, her eyes droopy, “The room next to mine is unoccupied. I won’t say anything if you slip out quickly, pirates.”

You gulped as Wooyoung chuckled, pressing a kiss to the woman’s forehead, “Thank you, my lady. We’ll be letting you sleep now.”

When Wooyoung faced you again, you couldn’t help but stare at him. He wasn’t a violent man, but you’d never seen this gentle side of his. It made your heart race as Wooyoung grinned, walking up to you to open the door, “You're staring again.”

“I’m not.” You scoffed and left the room once you made sure the hallway was empty, “There’s nothing to stare at.”

But there was. Wooyoung was a stupidly handsome man, his nose curving prettily, his uneven eyes sharp, and his moles endearing. You gulped as he carefully pulled the door shut behind himself, then braced yourself for what you were about to do.

“Sorry, but you gave me no choice.” And before he could turn around, you whacked him hard in the back of his head, catching his limp body before it could fall to the floor. He was heavy and you groaned as you laid him down, wondering how you’d drag a man down the stairs whose weight you couldn’t even uphold yourself. By a miracle, none other than Mingi seemed to show up, and you quickly waved at him, “Mingi! Get over here right now!”

You made sure you were whisper shouting as Mingi hurried over to you, his eyebrows furrowed, “What the hell are you doing with Wooyoung?!”

“I have the necklace,” You grinned, then looked at Mingi, “And Wooyoung.”

“I don’t want that monkey,” Mingi scoffed as he crouched down, “But I do want the necklace.”

You both grinned at each other as you crouched down next to him, “If we take him hostage now, not only will we piss off Hongjoong and Wooyoung, but you’ll be able to bargain gold and gems in exchange for his life.”

Mingi’s eyes instantly lit up at your words, and he pressed a wet kiss against your cheek as you groaned, flinching away, “You’re brilliant, princess!”

“And you said a woman was of no asset to you,” You scoffed as you both stood, growing stiff when footsteps echoed down the hallway. You looked past Mingi to prepare to fight whoever was coming, but you relaxed when you saw it was just Seonghwa with Yunho.

“Let me—my princess?” Yunho asked confused as he looked between you and Mingi, his eyes growing wide. Mingi froze, his jaw going lax as his body started trembling. He looked like he had seen a ghost. He muttered something as Yunho’s expression mirrored Mingi’s, and Seonghwa and you shared a confused look.

“Yun—Jeong Yunho?” Mingi whispered, his voice shaky.

“Song Mingi, it’s you,” Yunho whispered as his eyes grew teary, and he fought against Seonghwa’s grip, which released him easily. You watched shocked as Yunho ran until he reached Mingi, throwing himself into the Captain’s embrace. They held onto each other tightly as Seonghwa slowly walked closer, looking at you as if you had the answer to what this was.

“I found you, my love,” Mingi whispered, gripping Yunho tightly.

“It took you too long.” Yunho tried to smile, but he looked sad, “I missed you so much.”

“I’m sorry,” Mingi gulped, looking down, “You disappeared without a trace.”

“I know, I don’t resent you.” Yunho then smiled, closing his eyes, “I love you, still.”

Someone groaned on the floor, making you hiss.

“Uh, guys…I’m sorry to ruin this emotional moment, but Wooyoung is kind of waking up,” More shouts down the hallway, heavy boots hitting the floor, “We have to go, now.”

“Mingi, grab his arm!” Seonghwa barked out as the two men went to hold Wooyoung up, his head lolling to the side as his eyebrows furrowed. You grabbed Yunho’s hand and looked at him, offering him a small smile.

“Let’s go, Yunho, things will be alright. You’ll see.” So, Yunho followed you as you escaped from the castle, not only with Neverland’s treasure in your possession but Wooyoung as well.

Oh, you were going to have so much fun with him before you’d hand him back to Hongjoong.

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nectar-cellar · 3 months ago

Text

morrigan and wogan hemlock! just your typical young and trendy bridgeport couple...... nothing nefarious going on here...

#ts3 #the sims 3 #wogan kinda has crazy eyes #morrigan has this mona lisa smile going on...

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redhoodlover1 · 3 months ago

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Richard Grayson x Reader

⋆★ synopsis: Barbara's new apprentice taking over her role for the time of her absence seemed to spike Richard's curiousity

⋆★word count: 828

It was unlike Barbara to take a break willingly with her tendency to overwork herself. And Richard was pleased when she admitted that she's taking a short break from being Oracle. Of course, the bats would do fine enough without her for some time. But Barbara surprised him by saying that her apprentice would replace her in her absence. He had no idea she even had an apprentice.

Dick also had no idea who the person mentioned by Babs was. "You know we could manage everything without someone new," he pointed out. "Oh, don't complain, they'll be helping you on patrol for a while. It's not such a big deal."

And the patrol was when Dick first heard your voice. He stood on the roof of a building in Gotham. His escrima sticks seemed strangely heavier that day, as did the silence that surrounded him.

He waited until his comms finally catch a signal, and then he heard a simple "Hello."

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

What Dick did not know, however, was that Babs' break would be longer than he thought. He had no idea what you looked like, except for your name he theoretically knew nothing about you. However, your voice continued to be with him on most patrols.

Today was no different. You gave him the locations of some criminals with nefarious intentions, he got on with it and that's how you spent the rest of the night. Sometimes he even felt watched, and it totally wasn't like you were watching him through the city surveillance.

Dick sat on the edge of the roof and listened as you tapped your fingers on the keyboard for some time. "So... Jiminy, you won't even tell me that I did a good job?" Dick didn't need additional conscience, he already had pretty good morals. Still, you were a bit like Jiminy Cricket to him, talking into his ear, even if, more often than not, you did find yourself mocking him at times like those.

"So now you're waiting to get praised? Nope, that's not like me." you hum. "And I'm not your Jiminy."

"I know, I know... But do you have to be so mysterious?" Dick said the last word in a strange and hushed voice, trying to mimic your behavior through it. "Oh, come on. You know who I am without me telling you! And you won't even tell me what you like to drink. You start to act like a creep," he whined in your ear. He did that just to figure out what makes you tick.

"I'm not a creep," you denied with that unbothered tone of yours. "Why do you even need to know what I like to drink?"

"Because, maybe I would like to buy you a coffee or tea or whatever, for your help. I'm trying to show my gratitude here."

You couldn't help the way the corner of your mouth lifted at his words, but you'd rather keep playing. "A thanks is enough..." you said simply. "Just a thanks?"

And that's when the silence that Richard usually tries to fill came. However, when he was ready to open his mouth he heard you say something that was probably not directed at him. "Ace... Hmm."

"Ace? Hold on, are you playing solitaire right now?"

“Possibly...” you hum. “Anyway, the sun is about to rise, so I'm going offline in an hour.” You didn't give him time to answer when his comms went quiet. Dick knew he had an hour to talk with you, but it was pointless. Seemingly his charms aren't working on you, which made him sigh.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Dick was a man of action, a simple thank you was not enough for him as it is for you. Today he had a day off from patrol, so he had no chance to ask you pointless questions again. He liked to know things, but you didn't give him the satisfaction of knowing anything about you.

Of course, what would be a better place for such musings than the park with coffee in hand. But first he had to get the coffee, and that's what he was heading for.

He was greeted on the spot by the cashier. Dick walked up to the counter and their voice made him stop for a moment. “What can I get for you?” they asked, face kind, but a little tired and unbothered. "Hello? Sir, is everything alright?"

"Ah yes, you just sound really familiar... One Americano with a shot of espresso, please."

They nodded and Dick didn't even notice when the coffee was handed to him. His name was elegantly written on the cup. "That'll be... $4.25." "Thank you," he muttered and placed the money on the counter, taking the steaming cup.

When Dick found himself outdoors again, his thoughts again returned to you. However, this time he tried not to bother his head with it too much. He just took a sip of his coffee and started walking.

A/N: That looked better in my head, but that's alright I guess. Dick Grayson the man you are...

#dc #dick grayson #nightwing #fanfiction #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x male reader #dcu #gender neutral reader #barbara gordon #batman #dc x reader #batfamily x reader #oracle

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hoesoflamentation · 1 month ago

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↫↫↫↫↫ 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 ↬↬↬↬↬ short ‘n’ sweet part II, om!mammon x f!reader, 18+

C L I C K H E R E for series masterlist!

// now playing: taste by sabrina carpenter

// synopsis: you heard mammon’s back together with his ex-girlfriend, and if that’s true, then you’re going out tonight. and if you happen to see you-know-who at the bar, then it’s not your fault if you decide to close your eyes and feel his lips. after all, a girl can only stand up to temptation for so long. will she retaliate or take it in stride?

// content warnings: bsf’s brother, strong language, suggestive content, angst, alcohol use, drug (marijuana) use, dubcon, kissing, lying & scheming, catching feels

L E V I thankfully, quickly forgot about the unexpected events of your first evening back in town.

And apparently, so did Mammon. While the backs of your thighs still burned from the places where his fingertips had grazed your skin, Mammon somehow seemed more absent than before your return. You and Levi hung out every day - yet whenever you visited, Mammon was nowhere to be found.

Mammon’s social media, on the other hand (which you were checking a lot more often now - especially late at night), left little to the imagination when it came to where he was or what he was doing.

Every night, Mammon posted a series of fuckboy selfies at some new party… and every night, you thought about how much you hated him for looking so good. Even surrounded by the haze of marijuana smoke and flashing club lights, Mammon radiated equal parts editorial model and approachable boy-next-door.

Though you had always been attracted to him, he looked nothing like the boyishly handsome teen you knew growing up…yet here you were, in the same old house, wearing the t-shirt from your high school senior trip and a ratty pair of pajama pants you’d owned for a decade.

If Mammon’s new motto was “out with the old,” then you were definitely out. And as much as you wanted to act cool about it, people around you were starting to notice how you felt.

Maybe you could have flown under the radar if you at least summoned the courage to pick up the phone every once in a while. But there was nothing like being brutally ghosted by your first love to convince you that your friends didn’t care if you texted them back. If he didn’t like you, obviously no one else could, either.

Luckily, most of your friends could take a hint; would happily give you space to figure out… whatever it was you were going through.

Even Levi, whom you never kept secrets from, was too afraid to ask you how you were feeling. Most of the time, he preferred to engage you in a multiplayer showdown rather than a meaningful heart-to-heart.

Still, everyone has a friend who can’t leave well enough alone - and you were no exception.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Knock knock, bitch! Guess who it is!”

Despite her words, Thirteen had decidedly not knocked. Instead, she strode into your parents’ living room like she owned the place - all without acknowledging that you had never told her you were moving back home.

You weren’t even sure that you’d ever mentioned to her where you were from, or where your parents lived… but you had no doubt that Thirteen had ways of finding your information, probably on the deepest corners of the dark web.

As one of Levi’s oldest online gaming buddies, she was so used to hacking servers, conducting coordinated raids, and doxxing homophobes that she hardly thought anything of employing nefarious tactics - even on her closest friends.

Thank goodness that your mom and dad were happily in their empty-nester phase, traveling more weekends than not. If they had been around to see your long-distance bestie barge in, they might have had a heart attack…

Just like you almost did.

But you had already decided not to dwell on any of this. You were just excited to see a familiar face - especially one who had flown in all the way from Tokyo just to check on you.

“I have never been happier to see you,” you gushed as you flew into her waiting arms.

Thirteen platonically stroked your hair and clucked her tongue in disapproval. “You look pathetic… What’s his name? I’ll have his IP address and bank account number in five minutes.”

“Please don’t,” you sighed as the two of you collapsed on the couch, Thirteen slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Besides, his balance is probably even lower than yours.”

Thirteen’s jaw dropped emphatically. “He’s an asshole and he’s broke?”

“Whatever you’re trying to say, I don’t want to hear it,” you whined, burying your face in her shoulder.

“Honey, we have got to talk about your taste in men,” Thirteen chided. “But that’s for later.”

She helped you sit up, neatened up your hair, and gave you a pinch on the cheek. “Right now, it’s time for your makeover!”

You blinked at her absently.

“...my what?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“I can’t believe I left my room for this,” Levi grumbled, taking a begrudging swig of the open bar’s lightest beer.

You turned to Thirteen and nudged her ribs affectionately. “Well, I can’t believe you got Levi to come!”

The party was being held by a minor YouTube celebrity who orbited the same professional circles as Levi and Thirteen. Their peers always invited them to be polite, but nobody ever expected them to actually show up. Usually, Levi never bothered to come to fancy events like these, preferring instead to focus on honing his reaction time and shit-talking the attendees over Facetime with the two of you.

“What can I say?” Thirteen tossed her hair smugly. “The boy would do anything for me.”

“You threatened to crop my face onto a neko-girl and post it to my official Discord account if I didn’t come out tonight,” Levi deadpanned.

Thirteen draped herself playfully over Levi’s shoulders, sloshing her vodka-cran in the process. “And aren’t you so glad you came?”

While your besties bickered, you took the opportunity to scan your surroundings for any signs of you-know-who. Everywhere you looked, you were surrounded by C-list actors and gorgeous influencers…but no signs of the one person you wanted to see.

You hadn’t realized how long you had spent looking for him, until Thirteen surprised you with a friendly hug from behind.

“He’ll be here,” she reassured, resting her chin on your shoulder. “I promise.”

And, as if Thirteen had spoken an incantation, a small but rowdy group of guys stumbled through a distant doorway, smelling like top-shelf tequila and expensive cologne. One of them, tall and bronzed, wore a black silk shirt with a deep v, unbuttoned far enough to show off a set of gold dog tags. His wavy silver hair was expertly mussed with a waxy pomade - and he laughed a little too loudly, as if he was already two or three drinks deep.

Mammon. You knew it was him, without a doubt.

Even though he felt miles away, you squirmed awkwardly in his presence, suddenly overthinking whether the hem of your satin bodycon dress was more slutty than sultry; whether Thirteen’s DIY blowout had left you looking more clownish than cunty.

Mammon seemed to move in slow motion as he looked over his shoulder… in your direction.

And your pulse quickened with the realization that, despite wearing something that showed off all your best assets, his eyes stayed firmly locked on you - with a penetrating gaze that stared right into your soul.

Keeping eye contact was more than you could bear. Bashfully, you immediately turned your back, hair flying, and downed a shot of expensive liquor from the nearest waiter.

“Excuse me, what the hell was that?!” Thirteen demanded, shaking you by the shoulders.

You froze, allowing the warm buzz of alcohol to wash over you with an absent stare… willing it to numb the deviant sensations broiling between your thighs. Why did he always have to look so. Damn. Good?

Even Levi seemed to feel pity. When Thirteen finally set you free, he reached out and patted you awkwardly on the arm.

“Y/n,” Levi said, in a tone that meant business, “I would literally rather you fuck my brother than…whatever the hell that was.”

Thirteen drew in a sharp breath, ogling a trainwreck in the distance. “Actually…better not.”

Before anyone could stop you, you turned to look at the scene that had captured Thirteen’s attention - only to watch a dark-haired woman in a sequined dress drape herself all over Mammon, his arms snaking around her toothpick frame as he pulled her in for a kiss.

You would have recognized that runway silhouette anywhere.

Furiously, you whirled around to give Levi a shove. “Why didn’t you tell me they were back together?!”

“I- I didn’t know!” Levi stammered, blushing in earnest.

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach as you watched Mammon lace his fingers through hers - dainty and manicured - and lead her down a dark hallway. It dawned on you that they were probably planning to do the very same things you yearned for in the fantasies that haunted you late at night.

At that moment, Thirteen sidled into view, tactfully blocking your line of sight as if to say ‘enough.’

“We should get a drink,” she suggested gently, before glaring at Levi pointedly. “Now.”

Your best friends ushered you toward the bar in a daze…. But it was already too late.

You already knew that there wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to make you forget about what you had just witnessed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Two hours later, the real party was only just beginning - but you and your friends were already the drunkest ones there.

As you should be. After having your fragile heart re-broken and stomped on - all in a matter of, oh, twenty seconds? - you felt you had more than earned your permanent seat of dishonor at the bar.

But you didn’t intend to stay seated much longer - and not just because you were falling off your chair. Now, you had achieved the stage of drunk where every song that played was your song; every bassline shot directly into your veins like heroin.

Soon, you and Thirteen were dragging Levi onto the dance floor and belting the lyrics at the top of your lungs. This place may have been bougie, but it wasn’t so classy that your fellow partygoers didn’t know how to have fun.

Before long, gaggles of dancing guests had clustered around you; you were bumping and grinding on everyone like it was prom night. Every girl you locked eyes with during a chorus was now your best friend.

A friend of a friend of Levi’s lit a joint and passed it around the room; boys took turns blowing smoke rings into yours and Thirteen’s mouths. Even Levi took one hit - his first ever - and immediately looked like he was going to throw up.

Every set of eyes was on you three, in a good way. And it felt amazing.

You could already tell you were going to feel differently tomorrow, when the physical and emotional hangovers sank in… but for now, this was the best night of your life, in the way that every night when you’re young and drunk and dancing is the best night of your life.

But even on the best night of your life, you could admit when you needed a break. You were sweating and winded; your high heels long forgotten under some table somewhere. More importantly, you were in desperate need of another drink.

You leaned on the bar with bravado, glowing with the aura of liquid courage…and before you could place your order, a veiny, muscular forearm wearing a gold bracelet reached around you to signal to the bartender.

“Two waters over here, barkeep,” a familiar voice called

You puffed out your cheeks and pouted dramatically, turning to see none other than Mammon leaning across the bar.

“‘S’one of those waters for her?” you slurred, prodding an accusatory finger into his chest.

Mammon gazed at you with a bemused smirk. How could he be smiling at a time like this?!

“No, dumbass,” he said, “it’s for you.”

Mammon thanked the bartender and slid one of the glasses across the bar. You eyed the beverage with suspicion, even as your fingers wrapped around the stem.

“What, ya think I poisoned it or somethin’?” Mammon teased, raising an eyebrow as he took a sip from his own tumbler of ice water.

“No,” you grumbled, begrudgingly raising the glass to your chapped lips. “Jus’ not sure why you’re bein’ so nice t’me alluva sudden…”

The cool water ran down your throat like a refreshing waterfall. You hadn’t realized how dry your mouth had gotten over the course of the evening’s festivities... Somehow, he seemed to have known what you needed even before you did.

“Whaddaya mean?” Mammon’s eyes twinkled; you noticed he was speaking much more softly than usual. “I’m always nice to ya.”

“Pfft,” you snorted, shaking your head incredulously. “Yeah, right… like the way you paraded your girlfriend around all night? Tha’ was jus’ soo nice of you…”

Mammon blushed as he set down his empty glass. “I…didn’t know you were here. If I did, I would’ve-”

“Woulda what?” you spat, taking a clumsy step forward.

You didn’t realize just how close you were standing to him until you felt his warm breath hit your face; felt the swell of heat radiating off his copper skin. Before Mammon could answer you, you stumbled forward, sticking out your palms to catch yourself against his broad chest.

Instinctively, Mammon wrapped an arm around your lower back to help you regain your balance… Was it getting hot in here, or was it just him?

“Maybe we should talk about this when yer feelin’ better,” Mammon suggested, in a concerned tone that made your skin itch with frustration.

You frowned up at him, taking a step back. “...you don’ wanna talk t’me anymore?”

“I didn’t say that,” he chuckled. “But the next time we talk…”

Mammon reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“…I want ya to remember it.”

Instead of falling to his side, Mammon’s hand followed the curve of your cheek - and lingered there a moment too long.

By then, the room had started to spin with the chaotic pulse of your liquor-fueled heartbeats. You kept your gaze fixed on his plush lips to keep you steady.

Mammon’s pout glistened with the sheen of his saliva, glittering like a shiny piece of jewelry you were dying to make your own.

“‘S okay,” you purred, drawn forward as if by a magnet. “We don’ have t’talk if you don’ wanna…”

Your body spilled into the empty space between his legs as you lost control of your limbs. His breath was warm and heady and close enough to taste. You pressed your palms into his thighs for leverage, allowing your lashes to grow heavy and your lips to part ever-so-slightly. Then, like a woman possessed, you tilted your head to the side...

You didn’t lean in so much as collapse on top of him. And - with the gentle touch of an elephant, and the grace of a baby gazelle - you drunkenly mashed your lips against Mammon’s.

Under different circumstances (and a lower blood-alcohol concentration), the significance of the line you had just crossed might have weighed more heavily on your shoulders. But with all of your senses heightened - and all of your inhibitions dampened - you were consumed by a single, primal need.

You wanted to be everywhere all at once…to devour him from the inside out…to claim every part of him as mine, mine, mine.

Mammon didn’t kiss you back with the enthusiasm you craved, nor did he protest. You swore that his lips had softened into your embrace; that they almost seemed to have moved with yours in a delicate tango - him serving as the slow, steady bass drum to your chaotic melody.

But you could also sense that something was holding him back…and you could still taste the faint whispers of strawberry lip gloss that wasn’t yours.

You pulled away with a frown on your face. Mammon’s eyebrows knit together in a pensive, almost pained expression.

“C’mon, Y/n,” Mammon mumbled, fishing loose ones out of his pocket. “We should, uh… probably get ya home.”

Feeling defeated, you could only nod weakly.

Mammon rose to his feet and pushed a crumpled pile of bills across the bar. He stared pointedly to the side as he slipped a caring, even brotherly hand behind your back to guide your swaying body.

You followed him across the dance floor as he attempted to hunt down the rest of your party, hearing only snippets of their conversation…and when you did listen, their voices sounded to you as if they were underwater.

“Okay, ya little shits,” Mammon sighed like an overworked single dad. “Time to wrap it up.”

“Whaat?” Thirteen whined. “But the night’s still so young!”

The drive home went by in a blur of substances. The next thing you could remember was your face hitting the pillow with a soft ‘thud;’ a veiled silhouette pulling the blankets up to your chin; the lights clicking off as you gradually faded out of consciousness.

“...sweet dreams, brat.”

Everything else besides those three words was soon forgotten.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next morning, you woke up to a searing pain in your forehead - and an insistent knock at your parents’ front door.

You groaned as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and threw back the covers, mustering the will to stand. But a soft snore coming from the corner of the room caught your attention before your feet could touch the ground.

Sitting upright in bed now, you turned to face the source of the disturbance - only to find Mammon, shirtless and snoozing on top of your favorite chair in a tangle of limbs and silver bedhead.

A prism of sunlight streamed in through a crack in the curtains, shining on Mammon’s silver hair like a halo. You cracked a faint smile at his angelic pose, all memories of your embarrassing actions from the night before lost in a haze of tequila and sativa.

Leaning over the window, you peered down at the walkway below. Somehow, some way, she was standing at the front door.

Mammon’s girlfriend…or ex…or whatever the hell she was.

Her smooth chocolate hair was tossed in an effortlessly messy bun; her gold jewelry shining against olive skin. She was dressed in a minimalist white t-shirt and jeans - a look that was simple but still more expensive than anything you owned.

You snuck a glance at your own reflection in the floor-length mirror hanging from your closet door. Shuddering, you peeled off a crusty fake eyelash that had migrated down your cheek and tossed it carelessly to the side.

Your eyes were bloodshot from a lack of sleep and an excess of weed. Down to your bottom layers, you still smelled like stale beer. And don’t even ask about your hair.

At least you were wearing clean clothes. On the way to bed, someone - hopefully Thirteen - must have helped you peel off your dress from last night. Whoever it was had also changed you into one of the spare t-shirts Levi kept in your dresser…

This, of course, meant that there was no way that Mammon could be in here right now without having seen your underwear at some point.

Though your cheeks burned with embarrassment, you didn’t have time to dwell on that thought for long. Your shame spiral was swiftly interrupted by another impatient knock on the front door.

Quickly, you shook all thoughts of last night out of your mind; you had more important problems to strategize, starting with what you looked (and smelled) like.

First, deodorant. The plastic tube lived on top of your vanity. The only problem? Mammon was currently asleep in the chair you normally sat in to do your makeup, blocking the very place you needed to reach.

This is just great, you thought as you tiptoed across the bedroom and paused in front of Mammon’s limp frame.

For a moment, you stared at the puzzle before you, briefly wondering how the hell you had gotten yourself in this situation in the first place… But you didn’t have the luxury of time. You needed to take action.

As carefully as you tried not to wake him, Mammon stirred and mumbled in his sleep as soon as you leaned over his shoulder to grasp the powdery stick.

“Nngh, Y/n…” he grumbled, half-awake as his head lolled to the opposite side. “I didn’t kiss her… she kissed me…”

The sound of your name in Mammon’s sleepy drawl was enough to fuel all your late-night fantasies for a year. But that wasn’t all: Mammon was clearly talking about last night in his sleep. And wait a minute… was he talking about her?

Was he talking about what you had seen?

Mammon’s eyelids fluttered open for the briefest of moments, just long enough to let you know that he knew exactly what he was saying - and that he meant to say it directly to you.

“Nothing happened,” he murmured groggily. “She kissed me…I just…dragged her off to talk about it…”

And, just like that, Mammon closed his eyes and resumed his peaceful snoring.

You couldn’t help but crack a smile as you straightened and backed away.

Applying deodorant as you went, you gently tiptoed backwards, until you caught your foot on a piece of silky black fabric.

You reached down and picked it up, rubbing the luxurious fabric between your fingertips. The stench of last night’s open bar, mixed with the familiar musky aroma of Mammon’s cologne, told you exactly what this was....

His shirt from the night before.

That smile on your face spread even wider. Oh, you were going to get her back…

You were going to get her good.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You answered the door wearing nothing but your bra, panties, and Mammon’s silk shirt. Her perfect manicure and annoyed expression greeted you on the other side.

She gave your outfit a once over (though the term ‘outfit’ was generous for the amount of fabric you were wearing). But if not for a single blink of surprise, you might have assumed she hadn’t seen you at all.

“Is Mammon here?” she asked.

Clearly, the woman wasted no time. But that was okay. You still had another ace up your sleeve.

Smirking, you cocked your head to one side, leaning on the doorframe.

“Maybe,” you answered coyly. “I can’t confirm or deny.”

She huffed in frustration. “Well, if he is, can you tell him to get down here?”

“Sure,” you replied sweetly.

She tapped her foot impatiently as you walked toward the stairs with a whirl of your hair.

You made a big show of walking slowly, swaying your hips alluringly from side to side - then, as you approached the base of the staircase, you casually called to her over your shoulder.

“Oh, and by the way,” you said conversationally, “I heard you’re back together… “

She scoffed. “Yeah, and?”

You smiled innocently. “And it’s okay with me.”

“Oh, is it?” She snorted indignantly, crossing her arms. “Well, then. Thanks for your permission.”

“No problem,” you replied, offering a sly smile in response to her scowl. “...I’ve been known to share.”

With a final wink, you began your victorious ascent up the staircase.

You never turned back or gave her a second look - only laughed quietly to yourself as you heard her utterances of frustration, and the door slamming behind her as she stormed off into the distance…

Yeah, you had a feeling she wouldn’t be back this time.

T A G L I S T : @devildomditzy

I F Y O U L I K E D T H I S, then please message me or leave me an ask (off anon) to be added to the taglist!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me mammon #obey me nightbringer #obey me crack #obey me thirteen #obey me levi #obey me fanfic #obey me longfic #short n sweet

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hgfictionwriter · 8 months ago

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Self Control: Part Twelve - Doubts

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Your due date is fast approaching, but Jessie has one set of away matches left. Anxiety, insecurity and doubt creep in while she’s gone.

Warnings: G!P content. Slight angst. Phone sex. Mutual masturbation. Praise kink. Preg/breeding kink. Possessive language. General language. Minor gaslighting?? (Nothing nefarious)

A/N: Thank you all for responding to the poll. I’m pretty thrilled you were interested in reading more of the story. Hope you enjoy. Rest of the series is here.

“Sure you don’t need me to stay?”

Before the words were even out of her mouth, Jessie knew the look you’d give her. Sure enough, by the time she set her bag at the front door and turned around, you were frowning sternly at her.

“Jess. We talked about this. And we talked with the midwife. There’s no reason anything should happen while you’re away. We’ve still got a bit of time.”

She took in your words. She still felt uneasy, but you were right, the midwife told her it was unlikely that you’d go into labour in the next week. The baby hadn’t dropped and the time wasn’t right yet either. However, it didn’t stop her from worrying.

The national team had an important set of qualifiers taking place. She’d floated the option of not going a while back and you’d immediately shut it down. She offered again as the dates, and your due date, grew closer, but again you refused.

It’s not that she didn’t want to go - she really did. She had a strong sense of duty not only to her teammates, but to the fans and - it sounded silly maybe - but to the country even. She wanted to represent her country to the best of her abilities and to carry on the legacy that Sinc and that generation had built. But, with the arrival of her firstborn around the corner, she had doubts about leaving you. She’d never forgive herself if she wasn’t around for your labour and the birth of your baby.

Not surprisingly though, you were adamant that she go. You’d always been unwaveringly supportive of her career and understood her dedication to her teams and to the sport in general.

That said, she always wanted you to know that if you needed her - pregnancy or not - she would be there for you. In a heartbeat. She also knew you’d never take advantage of her willingness to prioritize you.

She’d reflected more than once over the years on this. If she’d ever had a doubt that you were the one, this shift in her would’ve been confirmation enough.

She was a caring and thoughtful girlfriend to all of her exes. But, they weren’t top of her list. When she was in high school and university, school always came first. Then, football - her career - always came first. Before she knew it though, she was willing to stay up late to talk to you, skip practice to spend time with you, miss matches - not that you ever let her; which was yet another reason she loved you. But the fact that she entertained the thought told her all she needed to know.

So, as per usual, you told her to go, even though you had to be at least a little bit nervous. Regardless, you didn’t need her apprehension weighing on you or influencing you. So she swallowed her worries and smiled at you instead.

“Okay, love. Call me right away if anything comes up. And call Karina or Kelli if you need something immediately. Don’t hesitate,” Jessie told you seriously.

“Yes, dear,” you said patiently as you cracked a smile. “Just picture me in the stands cheering for you. You know I’d be there if I could. And just imagine, depending on what we want to do, by the time your next tournament rolls around, your daughter may be in the stands with me cheering mommy on.”

Jessie smiled broadly at the thought. She stepped towards you and placed her hands on your rounded belly. She went to say something else but the kick under her palm distracted her, followed by another kick. She looked up at you in surprise.

“Oh gosh, she’s really kicking,” she said.

“Oh yeah. She’s been kicking up a storm all morning,” you said with a hint of a smirk. You mock whispered, “I think she may know you’re leaving.”

Jessie gave you an exaggeratedly sad look and dropped to her knees so she was level with your bump. Her hands were still on the significant swell of your stomach, pushing up slightly to lift your belly and give your back some relief. You audibly sighed and gave her a grateful look as she spoke.

“I’m not going away,” she said apologetically. “At least for long. I’ll be back in a little over a week,” she went on followed by a kiss to your stomach. Her brow furrowed and she spoke imploringly. “You have to stay in there, okay? Please, please, wait until I’m back. Can you do that for me? For good measure - you stay nice and cozy in there for another 3 weeks, alright?”

Jessie smiled up at you when you reached down to tenderly tuck her hair behind her ear. You rubbed your stomach and spoke to the baby though you kept your eyes on Jessie.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m going to miss her, too,” you said with a wink. Jessie made another sad face even if she was probably meant to laugh. She kissed your hand and then your stomach.

“Mommy will be back soon. I’m going to miss you both so much. You two take care of each other while I’m away.”

Jessie forced a smile as you cupped her cheek.

“We’ll be alright, Jess. Don’t worry about us. Focus on the matches.” She rose and you pulled her in for a kiss. “Give ‘em hell.”

———————

Seeing her national teammates was always a joy. She loved her club team, but the national team? She’d practically grown up with half of them. And the highs and lows of national tournaments, along with the pride of representing their country - never mind winning Olympic Gold together - it just bonded them in a totally different way.

She was hit with a barrage of questions, teasing, as well as gifts from them and staff around the impending arrival of the baby. So many gifts she’d probably have to buy another bag to bring them all home.

Normally, Jessie couldn’t stand attention, even from people she was as close to as the team, but when it came to the thought of her daughter, all it did was make her smile. She couldn’t wait to introduce her daughter to these great people. She could tell how they’d shower her with love and care and it filled her heart up.

Before dinner, she went up to the hotel room she was sharing with Janine to drop off an armload of gifts. She set them down in one of the chairs and posed in front of the growing pile and made a funny face as she took a selfie for you.

Selfies. Another thing she didn’t exactly like, but knew you did so she took them for you, especially when she was far away. When she was happy with the photo, she sent it - a follow up to the thumbs up selfie she’d sent you when she landed.

“Should’ve brought another bag”

“How are you doing, love? How’s our baby? I wish you were here. I miss you already.”

The team was just sitting down to dinner when her phone buzzed.

“Omg. You’re kidding lol. Looks like we’re going to need that space in the guest room after all lol. That’s so sweet of everyone. Please pass along my thanks (and ‘hellos’!)”

“Btw you’re so freakin cute. I love you 🥰 “

“I’m doing okay. She’s been restless, which you know, is driving me a bit bonkers. But all’s well. And I miss you too, baby. I hope you have a great dinner with everyone!”

Tomorrow was a bit of an adjustment day. A team walk in the morning, some sightseeing, training in the afternoon and an evening to themselves, so the night went fairly late as everyone caught up with one another.

She was getting ready for bed when she heard Janine snickering as she brushed her teeth. Jessie gave her a scrutinizing look and the girl merely held up her phone. Jessie scowled as she saw a post Julia had put up of Jessie sandwiched between her and Jordyn at the restaurant as they both pinched her cheeks.

“I love when she posts pictures of me,” Jessie said dryly with a halfhearted eye roll. Janine spit out her toothpaste and gave Jessie a teasing look.

“Vanessa, Jordyn, Cloe, Ashley, Shelina…the list goes on. Never mind me. And the admin account.”

Jessie shot her a withering glare. “We’ve been here less than a day.”

“Well if you had your notifications on you’d see all the posts you’re tagged in,” Janine said with a shrug. “And we can’t help it if you’re so photogenic. Plus come on, the fans love you, and you’re, you know, the captain. So of course the staff are going to highlight everything you do.”

Jessie rolled her eyes again but checked her phone, a fleeting disappointment running through her upon not seeing a new reply from you. You two had been texting, but your replies were getting further apart and slightly shorter. Curt even? Aloof? She couldn’t put her finger on it.

She shook her head and dismissed any burgeoning worries.

She sent another couple of texts.

“Just getting into bed. Wish it was next to you. No worries about talking tonight. You’re probably busy or maybe you fell asleep already (which is good! Get some sleep whenever you can!). Maybe we can talk tomorrow night?”

“I’m leaving my ringer on (too bad, Janine), so just text or call me if you’re up and can’t sleep. Happy to talk and keep you company. Anyway. Sweet dreams, babe. Love you.”

It took her a while to fall asleep, her apprehension about leaving you, along with your lack of reply tonight had her mind whirring despite efforts otherwise. However, eventually she dozed off.

The room was still dark when she woke next. She blinked several times as she palmed the nightstand looking for her phone. She checked the time - nearly 5:00am.

More importantly though. A notification from you. She must’ve really been tired if she slept through the notification. She felt the drowsiness leave her body as she unlocked her phone to see.

“Sorry. Got distracted. Hope you had a good night. I love you too.”

Jessie frowned. There was nothing explicitly wrong with what you sent. But it wasn’t like you. Though she was relieved to hear from you, it didn’t exactly settle her. But, she didn’t want to read into things and add stress for you.

“Hi baby. No need to apologize. I just woke up. Will probably try to get a bit more sleep though. I hope you’re having a good sleep. Sucks not waking up next to you. I can never get used to it.”

She managed to get some more sleep, but by the time the team had breakfast together and returned from their little sightseeing tour she still hadn’t heard from you. There was a time difference, so it’d be a bit early for you, but it still felt odd.

Jessie found herself ruminating and it wasn’t helpful or useful, so she made of point of being extra social to keep herself distracted.

She checked her phone again as the bus was pulling into the training facility. The last message in your convo was still the picture she sent you of the skyline and a “Hope your morning’s going well! I hope work’s not too busy today” message.

It wasn’t until a break when Jessie snuck back into the locker room to check her phone that she finally saw another message from you.

“Looks pretty, babe.”

“Morning’s been fine. Lots of meetings.”

Her features felt heavy as she read your messages. Normally, you were warm. Chatty. Inquisitive. These messages didn’t feel that way at all and she felt a pit forming in her stomach.

A few bubbles popped up and she felt herself perk up. She watched and waited.

“Hope practice is going well.”

A small smile crossed her face and she felt encouraged. She went to text you, but changed her mind and tried FaceTiming you. She scurried over to a quiet corner and waited for you to answer.

You didn’t.

A renewed wave of disappointment went through her, which she quickly dismissed. She scolded herself. You just said you had meetings. It was unlikely you were actually free to talk. She exhaled and tapped out a text instead.

“Hi babe! Yeah, it’s nice here. I’d like to take you sometime. Sorry to hear you’ve had so many meetings. Hopefully they’re not too stressful. I know things have been hectic as you’re trying to wrap things up before the baby comes.”

“Practice is going well! We’re trying out some new formations and it’s going well so far. It’s so interesting coming back together after club transfers - you can see how different playing styles have been adopted, the difference that comes from increase or decrease in minutes. All of that.”

She finished with a smirk, knowing that if you were standing across from her you’d called her a nerd and kiss her. Sadly though, that wasn’t the case.

When practice wrapped Jessie was met with a reply.

“Yep. It’s been a lot. And who knows what it’ll all be like when I come back after mat leave.”

“That’s interesting, babe. Glad practice went well. They’re lucky they have your brains.”

“You know you don’t have to text me, right? You should be focused on the team and the upcoming game.”

Jessie frowned. Okay. She had to confront things now.

“Babe, is everything okay? You seem off. And I know I don’t have to text you. I want to - of course.”

It wasn’t until everyone was showered and arriving back at the hotel that you replied again.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just been busy with work. And I’m tired.”

Jessie’s face fell again. While everything you said was logical, it just didn’t feel right. She didn’t know what she’d done wrong and she just wanted to fix it.

She slowly gathered up her things and got off the bus. As everyone got ready for dinner she messaged you again.

“Okay. Well, try to get some rest this evening. The team’s going for dinner soon, but some of us will come back right after. Can I call you tonight?”

Jessie was at dinner when her phone buzzed.

“You should stay out with the others. You don’t need to come back early just to talk to me.”

“I want to talk to you. I’d much rather do that than go out.”

“You haven’t seen some of them in ages. Go spend time with them, Jess.”

She frowned at her phone. You’d been slow to reply all day and she was happy to talk with you in ‘real time’ so to speak, but she wasn’t anticipating this. She felt like you were pushing her away and she didn’t understand why.

“Babe. I can do both. Can I call you tonight? I would really like to. It doesn’t have to be long.”

You didn’t reply right away, leaving Jessie distracted and restless throughout the rest of dinner. She opted to go back to the hotel with the first batch of folks just in case you changed your mind and wanted to talk.

She was playing a board game with Quinn and a few others in their room when you finally responded.

“I don’t really feel like talking.”

The pit in her stomach twisted. Another text came through as she was rereading your last.

“I’m sorry, Jess.”

“Sorry. I’ll be right back,” she mumbled as she got up off of the floor and stepped into the hall, ignoring whether or not her teammates were eyeing her or not.

“Babe. We always find time to talk when I’m away. What’s going on? Now I know for sure something’s wrong. Please tell me.”

“Jessie. I want you to spend time with your team. Have fun. Enjoy yourself. Truly. We’ll talk later. And I’ll still be here when you get back.”

Jessie wasn’t sure why, but she felt tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. She found herself breathing deeply as she tried to steady herself. She swallowed her rising emotion.

“Okay. Well, I’ll let you go, then. Tell me when you’re up to talking and we’ll talk, okay?”

“Sounds good. Good night.”

“I love you.”

The “I love you” was the warmest you’d been all day and though it satiated her to some degree, it also made her chest constrict in a way that was more or less foreign to her in her relationship with you.

Maybe in the future, she’d have the liberty to be amused at the contrast between how she felt in this moment and how she might’ve with any ex. If an ex had been distant or cold, she honestly couldn’t have really cared less. Sure, it wasn’t enjoyable, but it wasn’t going to affect her like this. Right now? She felt terrible and uneasy, and she couldn’t even really voice why.

When Jessie woke the next day, her sleep restless at best, she felt that weight of concern throughout her body before she even picked up her phone. The feeling amplified when she didn’t see another text from you.

She opened your conversation. Sure enough, the last message was her saying good night to you - no reply. Her jaw subconsciously tightened and she wrote you again.

“Good morning, my love. I hope you had a good sleep and our little one didn’t keep you up too much. We have practice this morning, but can we talk tonight?”

She wanted to confront you more, but she didn’t know if she was being unreasonable. Plus if she got angry with you it could just cause you to pull further away.

She did silly media things for the team that day, finished training and still hadn’t heard from you. She couldn’t believe how emotional it was making her. Cloe asked something about you and Jessie had to pull herself together to give a composed answer. In truth she just had this worry and hurt and didn’t know what to do. She just wanted to be at home with you and to talk to you.

It wasn’t until around dinner that you finally replied.

“Sure. I’ll text you when I’m done dinner.”

It wasn’t exactly enthusiastic, but it was something.

The evening wore on and some of the team was starting to go to bed by the time you texted.

“Hey. I got held up at work. The time difference isn’t working in our favour. You should get some sleep. Your game is tomorrow night. You need rest. We can talk tomorrow instead.”

A rush of frustration went through Jessie. She just didn’t understand. You were a pretty direct and open communicator; if anyone got quiet and withdrawn it was definitely normally her, so it was bizarre and confusing for you to be this way.

“I’d like to talk now. I’m worried about you. I’ll sleep better if we talk.”

She chewed the side of her thumb as she stared at her phone and awaited your consent.

“Okay. I’m free now.”

Jessie’s found an empty meeting room of sorts and forewent a chair to instead pace as she called you. Her heart was raced as the device rang in her ear. She didn’t recall feeling like this since you first started dating. And even then it was entirely different.

“Hello?”

Your monosyllabic greeting was impersonal and flat and her throat tightened over it.

“Hi baby,” she said softly, not wanting to meet your aloofness with her own.

You didn’t say anything and she cleared her throat, shoving a hand in her pocket.

“What’d you have for dinner?” She asked, wanting to keep things light for now.

She heard a soft sigh come through the phone and you replied, tone still disinterested. “Just some chicken, rice and veggies.”

Jessie did her best to not be discouraged by your tone. “That’s good. How’d the rice turn out?” She said, attempting to crack a joke over how you struggled to cook rice well and always deferred to her to do so.

“Fine,” you said. A beat passed. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Never mind,” Jessie mumbled slightly as she cleared her throat once more and tried to not get upset.

The call was quiet for another second.

“How was your dinner? Looked like you guys had fun.”

A frown settled on Jessie’s face. “What? I mean, yeah, it was good and it was fun to hang out. But how did you know?”

“Janine and Julia posted a story,” you replied.

“Oh.” Jessie chuckled. “Of course it was them. Perpetually online.”

“Yeah,” you replied flatly before another lull formed.

Jessie scratched the side of her head and lifted herself up onto the balls of her feet as she broached the tension.

“Um. Are you alright, babe? You seem…I don’t know,” she trailed off, now falling back to her heels and kicking idly at the carpet below her. “Off I guess. Like. Quiet.”

“I told you I’m tired, Jess,” you responded with thinly veiled terseness.

“Yeah. But I know what you’re like when you’re tired. And it’s not like this,” she countered mildly.

She heard a huff of a laugh from you. “And I’ve never been 9 months pregnant before, so. Guess we’re in new territory.”

Jessie rubbed her forehead. “Is that what’s going on? I’m sorry I left. I offered to stay, you know,” she said without malice.

You huffed again. “I would never want you to skip this, Jess. You should know me better than that.”

“Well then I’m confused. I feel like I’m in trouble. My best guess is for being here. Yet I offered to stay and you wanted me to go.”

“You’re not in trouble,” you said.

Jessie gave a short laugh. “Yeah? How come you’ve barely talked to me since I landed? It’s painful trying to get more than a two word answer out of you. It’s like talking to me is a chore or an obligation all of a sudden.”

Her brow was heavy as she frowned and waited for you formulate a reply.

“I told you already, I want you to spend time with everyone and to have fun. Go enjoy yourself,” you said, a bit more quiet and subdued this time.

She gave another empty laugh. “I have. I told you I have. But I want to talk to you, too.”

“Why?”

Her face screwed up in disbelief. “Because you’re my fiancée and the mother of my child and I love you??” She asked, her voice rising.

A beat passed and Jessie could feel her heart thumping heavily in her chest.

“Well.” Another moment passed and your voice tightened. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Jessie asked, calming down some and speaking softly.

There was another pause, longer this time, and she was able to inquire when she heard a faint sniffle through the phone.

“Y/N?” She asked. “Are you okay?”

More silence until another sniffle came through.

“Babe,” she beseeched, feeling anxiety start to build in her body. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, your voice thick with emotion this time.

“Baby,” Jessie said gently. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry that instead of just having fun and enjoying everything, you have me to worry about,” you said, voice wavering.

Jessie frowned deeper than ever. “What? Babe, I don’t understand.”

“Jess,” you implored. “I see all of the posts everyone puts up. You’re all having a great time, having these new experiences, new sights. I see how much fun you’re having - and I really want that for you. Please don’t misunderstand. I just feel horrible that you’re being tied down now,” your voice broke at the end and you sniffled more fully.

“Babe-” Jessie’s confusion and surprise was cut off as you spoke further.

“I’m sitting here, big as a house, ready to pop, and I’m seeing you have the time of your life - as you should - and I’m wondering if this is actually what you want. You’re in your prime. You’re travelling the world. Surrounded by gorgeous girls at every turn. And in a few weeks you’ll have a screaming baby at home and with a partner who ties you down.

“We got pregnant - basically on a whim, and you proposed and your whole life is going to change and I can’t help but worry you didn’t think it through and you’ll feel trapped. And I’m sorry I’m the one who did it to you.”

By now, you were sobbing into the phone. Jessie’s jaw had dropped and she was just staring blankly at the ground as she processed your claims.

“Baby,” she eventually said, her voice both purposeful and gentle. “I don’t feel that way. I need you to know that.”

Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to organize her thoughts and address your worries.

“We chose to get pregnant. Emphasis on the ‘We’ and ‘chose’. Meaning I was very much,” she held back a soft laugh, “an active participant. I very consciously chose to try for a family with you. Yes - initially it was in the heat of the moment, but I haven’t had a single doubt about having a child with you. You are the one for me - through and through. Whether we were having a kid or not, but I am beyond ecstatic that we’re having a family together,” she stressed.

“All I do is talk about you and our little one,” Jessie said. “And I’m not sad or resentful of that at all - I’m thrilled. Babe, I love you more than anything. And I love our daughter just the same and I can’t wait to meet her.”

She heard your crying grow quieter and she went on softly.

“Are you perhaps having some doubts?” She asked, forcing past a new wave of apprehension. “I could understand if you did. It’s not fair to you that I’m out here - living the life, as you say - and you have the task of carrying our baby. I know you love work and your career has to be put on hold temporarily. I’m really sorry. And I’ll do everything I can to make that as painless as possible, but it doesn’t change the fact that that sacrifice still falls on you.”

You sniffled. “No,” you replied meekly. “I’m scared, I guess. But I don’t have doubts. I just feel like a burden and like I’ve cut off your freedom.”

Jessie sighed inaudibly. “You are not cutting off my ‘freedom’. I don’t feel restricted and I am going into this understanding that I also need to make adjustments and I really am happy to. I want you and a family together. I love football. Of course. It’s been my life. But it’s not my forever. That’s you. And her.”

“You’re being too nice to me,” you said, your voice hitching.

“No such thing. I love and adore you,” she said resolutely. “Now, can you tell me what’s scaring you? It’s totally valid to be scared, I just want to know more and to help if I can.”

“I don’t know. Some career stuff - the unknown there. If I’ll be a good parent. If you’ll leave me…”

“Your workplace will be counting down the days until you’re back. They’ve even said that,” Jessie chuckled. “And if, for any reason, you decide you want something different, we’ll navigate that when we get there and we’ll do it together. And you’re going to be an incredible mom. I have zero doubts. And I can’t even fathom the thought of leaving you. Not just because we’re having a kid together - in general. In fact, I’ve spent the past couple of days reflecting upon how absolutely different I am with you than I was with any of my exes. Believe me - there is no contest. Past or future.”

You sighed wearily into the phone. “God, Jess. I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to deal with my insecurities. Especially during your tournament. God.”

Jessie made a face. “Actually, as your partner that’s exactly what I’m supposed to do. And come on, this is the smallest of reassurances. You are so confident all the time - it’s intimidating, actually,” she said with a smirk. “Which you know.”

You finally laughed. “I know.”

“Mhm. You had me sweating and stammering when I first met you,” Jessie repeated for good measure.

“You did great,” you said with a laugh for which Jessie was grateful.

“I’m very, very happy to reassure you any time you need,” she reiterated.

"Thank you," you said with a small whimper. "I just got in my head. I'm anxious even though I know better." You gave a watery laugh that pulled a smile out of Jessie. "You still love me?"

Jessie laughed. "More than ever. I promise."

"I know I should've just talked to you. I'm sorry," you said.

"It's okay, baby. I'm glad we got that sorted," she told you before she rolled her eyes. "You had me worried that something had gone wrong - maybe the baby was coming early or something."

"Oh. Well she did drop."

"What!" Jessie exclaimed, head jutting forward.

"I think that's also went sent me into a spiral," you said. "It happened the day after you left. Remember she was so active - like crazy active. Then she just shifted and she's sitting so low now. I called the midwife - the timing makes sense and she has no concerns."

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you need to tell me these things," Jessie said, irritation settling in her shoulders.

"I was going to tell you when we talked...," you offered weakly, surely feeling guilty.

Jessie sighed heavily, pacing once more and trying to let go of her renewed anxiety and irritation.

"I'm sorry, Jess," you went on. "Not my best moment...moments...as a partner. Thank you for being so patient with me."

She hummed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's okay, babe. I know you're dealing with a lot. It's okay."

"I miss you," you said, more like an offer or an olive branch.

She had to laugh as she shook her head. "Yeah, I miss you too."

"If it makes you feel better - I felt miserable not talking to you. Or not being open with you."

"That doesn't make me feel better," Jessie said flatly though she chuckled.

"Mm. Well. I wish I was there with you. I always hate going to sleep without you, but especially right now," you said.

"I know the feeling," Jessie sighed as she leaned against the wall. "I really do wish you were here."

"Me too," you said. "Though I'm sure Janine could live without that," you laughed and she snickered.

"Uh, yeah, she'd pack up her bags and move immediately," she said. A devilish smirk crossed her face despite the weight of your conversation just moments before. "She hasn't fully recovered from that time she caught us on the phone - or me, I suppose."

"Oh my God," you laughed. "That was a lot of fun though."

"It really was," Jessie agreed as she recalled the memory. She cleared her throat as the visuals in her mind became a little too vivid. "Embarrassing, but fun."

"Maybe...we could have some fun like that again?"

Jessie quirked an eyebrow up. It sounded great, but she wanted to be mindful of the distress you’d been in.

"When?" She clarified.

"Mmm, up to you, I suppose. You have your game tomorrow, so you should probably get some sleep tonight," you said. Something in your tone told her you weren't entirely set on that though.

"I'm not tired," she simply said.

"Where are you now, then?" You asked.

"Nowhere convenient. But I can easily head back to the room," she said, already on the move. “You’re sure about this? No pressure or anything. Seriously. I want to make sure you’re okay first and foremost.”

"I’m very sure. I’ve been missing you so much. And you know what emotional intimacy does to me,” you chuckled, drawing the same reaction out of Jessie. “Are you sure? I really don't want to affect your game or state any more than I have."

"I think it would actually really help my game," she said flirtatiously as she got into the elevator.

"Okay, let me get ready too, then," you said. She heard you moving around and then the eventual sound of you rummaging through the nightstand drawer.

"Ugh," Jessie said, mostly facetiously. "That's my job," she grumbled.

"You've been replaced by a machine," you joked. "No, come on, you know these things collect dust when you're around. Nothing compares to having your cock inside of me."

"Jesus Christ, let me at least get to the room," she said through grit teeth as she walked towards her suite.

When she stepped inside, it was empty, as expected, but Janine could be coming back at any point. She grabbed her airpods and connected them as she stepped into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

"How fucking perfect," she whispered with a smirk as she spied the shelving above the toilet. She propped her phone up there and started video. When your face appeared on her screen she lit up. "There's my girl."

You gave a bashful smile, unlike the flirtatious or playful one you'd typically give in response; surely a lingering reaction from your earlier feelings.

"You're so beautiful. I've missed you so much," she said earnestly.

"I've missed you too, baby," you said sweetly. Jessie gave you a teasing look.

"See? Was that so hard?"

"What?" You asked with a small smile.

"Calling me 'baby'," she teased. You rolled your eyes playfully.

"What do I have to do to make it up to you?"

"Oh, baby. Sure you want to ask that?"

"Mhmm," you nodded, biting your lower lip. "I'm very sorry," you said slowly and in an entirely different way than earlier.

"Shit," Jessie said as she started to cup herself through her pants, her length starting to stiffen already. "That's my good girl." You bit your lip harder and she could see you start to fidget.

"I wish I was on my knees taking you into my mouth right now," you said.

Jessie groaned and undid her pants, dropping them to the floor, shortly followed by her boxers. She looked around quickly and spotted lotion on the counter, she stepped out of view - you whining right away - and pumped some into her palm before returning. She stroked her cock up and down, her hand moving swiftly and easily along her erection.

"What are you doing?" You asked with a flirtatious waggle of your eyebrows.

"Imagining your mouth around me," she said matter of fact.

"Well step back a bit, I wanna see," you said and Jessie obliged as she continued to stroke herself. She took off her shirt quickly, standing clad in a sports bra, her flexing bicep and abs on display.

"Oh fuck, babe," you said in want and she heard your vibrator turn on.

"You, too. If you really want to make it up to me you'll have to show me something. I know it's not easy right now, so feel free to be creative," Jessie said, tilting her chin up as she looked at you through her phone.

"Could it be the baby you planted in me," you said as you turned the phone to show your stomach as you rubbed it sensually. "Look at what you did to me, baby."

"Mm, you look gorgeous carrying my baby," Jessie said as she held herself more firmly as she stroked. She felt that primal rush inside of her and she groaned low in her chest. "You're my girl, aren't you?"

You started rubbing yourself with the vibrator and you returned the video to your face. Your cheeks were already growing flushed.

"Of course I am."

"Say it," Jessie demanded.

"I'm your girl, Jessie," you said. "Soon to be your wife. And mother of your child, of course."

"Fuck yes you are," she said through grit teeth as her pace quickened. "No one else's. Ever."

You nodded eagerly, your mouth now open as you pleasured yourself.

"No one else's. My pussy is so wet for you. You're the only one I want. God, I'm making a mess of our sheets already."

Jessie grunted as she clenched her jaw. "God, no one could ever work me up like you. Mm, I wish I buried inside of you right now. Fuck, I can feel how tight and hot you are around me. God, there's nothing and no one better."

"Oh fuck, Jess," you panted, your cheeks deep red and your head thrown back. "I need you to fuck me. Your hands on me, your cock filling me up. I need you so badly."

"You have me," Jessie breathed, her fist riding hard and fast up and down her length to the point her voice was shuddering. "I'm yours to keep. You know I'd be there taking care of you, taking care of my girl if I could."

"I know. No one can take better care of me than you."

"Remember that," she said as she started to buck into her fist. “God, you’re going to make me cum already.”

You shoulders heaved up and down, hitching as you worked your clit. “I’m close too.”

“Yeah?” Jessie asked with a crooked grin. “Picturing me thrusting into you from underneath - the sound of my hips slapping against your thighs as I stretch you out and make you mine all over again?”

“Oh God,” you panted and she could see your body rocking faster.

“Be a good girl and cum for me,” Jessie said. “Cum all over my cock and show me you’re mine. I’ll cum inside you and show you I’m yours.”

Your moans heightened as your eyes fell shut as you carried yourself over the edge. Your jaw was fully slack and you looked absolutely breathtaking as you reached your climax.

“I’m cumming for you, Jess,” you said before you began to whimper and she saw your body tense up.

“God yeah. My beautiful girl, cumming so good for me,” Jessie said as she watched you. She stepped forward and soon she grunted as ropes of cum shot into the toilet as she came. Her cock twitched in her hand as she rut into her hand. She couldn’t help but lament not being able to cum inside of you.

She stroked herself again, her motions slowing and her posture relaxing as she started to come down. She belatedly saw the wince on your face.

“Shit. The Braxton Hicks are intense right now,” you told her.

“Fuck - okay, no more. No more cumming until I’m home. I’ll be damned if you orgasm yourself into labour - especially me being here. No way,” she told you as she started to clean herself up. “Besides, you told me it was my job to fuck you into labour.”

You chuckled through a wince. “So demanding,” you joked. “Fine. As long as you’re ready to get to work as soon as you’re home.”

Jessie smirked. “You know I will be.”

—————

Jessie stood in front of the microphone post-game, shoulders still visibly rising and falling as she caught her breath and sweat still dripping down her face.

She answered the questions with quiet focus, eyes trained on the interviewer.

“…now lastly, you’re very close to expecting the arrival of your firstborn soon. Was that affecting you in any respect going into this win?”

While she wore a serious frown the minute prior, a broad smile now crossed her face and she felt her body lighten and relax.

“Oh, absolutely. My family is always on my mind and motivating me. I mean, the team and I work hard to focus and go into matches, especially ones like this, with a certain mentality no matter what and my fiancée is one of my best supporters. But,” she chuckled lightly, “if I was going to leave this close to the due date, I knew I better make it worth it and win,” she chuckled before her face settled into a soft smile. “But yeah, they’re both on my mind and I miss them like crazy. I know they both want us to rock it out here, and that’s what I intend to do, but I also can’t wait to be home.”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #canwnt x reader #woso smut #g!p #lesbian breeding

417 notes · View notes

machveil · 6 months ago

Note

What do you HC König to look like under the hood?

..this is for scientific reasons , nothing nefarious going on here 👀👀

okay, so I have some Fun Thoughts, might get angsty (?), but overall we’re grooving🎀✨

CW: mention of a gun misfiring + shrapnel, past injury

[big sigh] crooked roman nose, and he’s got a big nose. I know it in my heart. very pronounced, his nose bridge is defined, but I’m a whore for a good crooked nose and I just. I know he has one, look away from me. as much as König is anxious over his physical appearance, I don’t think he hates his nose in particular or anything - like, yeah, it’s busted and another thing someone could stare at or whisper about, but it’s the least of his personal concerns. could he have it fixed? absolutely, he has the cash for it, but I think his mindset is ‘this could get broken again, why bother’

I don’t know, I just see him and I picture this man has a honkin’ nose

sad, wet König has sad, wet eyes. we know those baby blues anywhere, them icy eyes, but I think they’re always a little wet. he’s just one of those people who’s eyes always look a little glossy even when he’s not feeling any particularly strong emotion. he could be brushing his teeth and his eyes look wet

also, with his eyes in mind, he’s got long eyelashes. just a brief mention because, not that he cries regularly - far from it, but when he does? miserable little meow meow, he’s got big, fat tears clumping to his eyelashes as he sniffles (very snotty, sorry) and sobs (choked and broken, again, very sorry)

oh baby, man has thick, slightly upturned eyebrows. for as fearsome and intimidating as the Colonel is, he has resting miserable face. his eyebrows are thick, a couple stragglers that are longer than the rest (old man eyebrow moment). they naturally look like he’s knitting his eyebrows, even when his face is resting. he actually looks so pitiful and miserable when he actually furrows his brows, just a dramatic upturn

he’s ginger. in my head, he’s ginger. as much as I love hearing König with different hair colors, he’s got long, luscious copper hair to me. now, I’m not saying my personal opinion is objectively correct, but I have three photos that I want you to look at because please. please imagine sad, wet König with copper hair for me (picture one, picture two, and picture three). I’m a ginger König truther, I just have to put it out here

also, you heard me right. long hair. gorgeous, long locks of hair. let me paint you a picture, and by paint you a picture I mean here’s another Pinterest link. please! big, muscular man, the back of a Greek statue, and he has his pretty copper hair braided? ough, fucking manifesting him. and he has a lot of hair, it’s thick. he can’t be bothered to always brush it - can you imagine this behemoth of a man with the worst bed head ever? knots and matted down clumps of hair, stray strands poking out every which way - and when the sun hits his hair it looks a little more on the blonde side. I just think he’d be so pretty with copper hair guys, have I won someone over? do you believe me and my ginger König propaganda?

freckles!! as much as I love König having freckles, I don’t think he’d enjoy having them. and they’re not just under his hood, mind you, man is covered in them from head to toe. while his face is definitely coated in them, I think his shoulders and upper back got hit the hardest with them, also his arms, but more so his biceps. again, absolutely covered in them, but those areas are slammed with them

back to his face, he’s plastered. chin to forehead, ears dotted with some too. as an adult no one really comments on them because he wears the hood, very few actually know what he looks like, but as a kid? maybe it’s because he’s so heavily freckled, but that was a sore point that kids poked fun at him for. he’s carried that with him into adulthood, sometimes he’ll wear a balaclava around the house when he feels particularly bad about it - but even then, he still sees the freckles around his eyes

okay, so, firm believer he has facial scars, right? but I don’t think they’re from deployments or anything in the field, I think they’re from when he was a rookie. I saw one (1) post about it and it’ll live in my head forever (I wish I saved it, it was a recommended post on my feed that vanished). König has facial scars from shrapnel. this is really early König I’m talking about, predeceasing the balaclava and sniper hood. either his own gun or someone’s training next to him (I lean towards another rookie, I eat up the angst of it being something that was out of his control, don’t mind me), but there was a misfire and shrapnel got his face

I think prior to the misfire he still had a couple nicks and smaller scars from his childhood on his face. maybe a kid pushed him a little too hard and a piece of gravel got him or something. but this? granted, it was a total accident, but it shatters his heart. everything heals up fine, luckily it missed his eye, but half his face is scarred over in various spots - short and long streaks, rough skin covering where freckles had been

present day, as much as he hides his face for the sake of his identity, I think the main contributor are his scars. since that accident he’s gotten a few more minor scars to his face, mostly faded and barely visible, but the shrapnel scars are what he’s really hiding

I think his lips are on the thinner side, quite chapped too. in the same vein, I’ll also mention his teeth - König has nice white teeth, they’re just a little crooked. obviously, he’s very smoochable, got some kissable lips. he likes to joke about how, because his teeth aren’t perfect, he’d be easy to recognize by his dental records. he finds this very amusing

I think those are all my current thoughts on what he looks like! uuh, optional opinion I go back and forth on is him having stubble. I like to think he keeps clean shaven a majority of the time, but sometimes he’ll let his stubble grow out. sorry König beard truthers, I cannot get on board that train

#konig #könig #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig headcanons #cod #cod thoughts #call of duty #hit post

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millersfinest · 8 months ago

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the thing in your chest that beats ² | e.w

santa barbara!ellie williams & ex-firefly!reader

wc: 4.5k

mini-series: california | oregon (you’re here) | idaho | wyoming

blurb: you put up a good fight with those rattlers, but it wasn’t good enough—all it got you was strung up near a beach where the sun scorched you dry. abruptly, their set-up gets fucked by their own prisoners, saving your life by only a thread. but the wrath that lingered under your skin was immense, and you’re not the only one to experience that phenomenon. when another damaged soul encounters your brittle state; the dreams that put you in a tough position manifest into reality. along with a few extra miscellaneous things…

cw: angry!r, slow-burn romance, eventual smut, proximity trope, both reader and ellie on a path of redemption, afab body parts mentioned, vulgar language, reader being complicated, mentions of attraction, inner guilt, use of ‘y/n’ and ‘woman’.

note: honestly i just can’t wait for them to kiss (spoiler: not this chapter). but they’re learning to trust each other. just know in the idaho ch we’re gonna be UP! please, enjoy this for now!! (also: i hope the lot of you voted for the presidential election. these are very very important times #harriswaltz2024)

Oregon

Several days and nights were spent on a boat, cruising up the coast of California. It was one of those livable boats, where you could hide from the sun in a room with stable furniture to eat on, and a bed to sleep on. You spent a lot of your time inside the hatch, analyzing a map that Ellie had labeled with a marker. Hoping that you’d maintain your luck enough to actually see Wyoming for yourself.

Ellie had confessed that she came from Jackson, but she still hadn’t told you the why. Instead of asking about it, you refrained, in turn, asking about the settlement. Were the people kind? Did they have horses? Because you heard they had horses.

Those were the questions she could answer easily, with little to no hesitation. Until your questioning began to irritate her—which, in turn, irritated you.

The two of you bickered over the smallest of things in those days on the water. It could’ve been the heat, or the rationed food, or even your similar personalities. You couldn’t help but clash every chance you got. By the time the two of you drifted onto the coastline of Oregon, the conversations had diminished—because of your stubborn attitudes.

Leaving behind the boat was a drag, but there’s wasn’t much of a choice. The rest of the journey toward Wyoming was going to be on foot. Over cracked pavements and between dewey trees. If only the trip could be simplified by the use of a boat—it would be less extraneous.

The weather had gotten significantly cooler the more north you traveled. The mornings were the coolest, and the days were chilled with a gentle breeze. It would rain eighty percent of the time, which made it harder for you and Ellie to continue the trek. But both of you were resilient.

Somewhere between Salem and Portland, you found yourselves looking for a place to stay for the night. You had run across some nefarious people when you first arrived at the coast; and you’ve been recovering ever since. Trying to collect as many things as possible on the road to make up for the lost ammo and supplies. Which is what led to you looking for a place to crash in, basically, pitch black darkness. Navigating the dewey wood with nothing but the lights attached to your bags.

Droplets of water slipped off the waxy green leaves of the trees above. Splashing onto you—and it was shocking every time. The climate sent a gentle chill up your spine, so the water was even colder. Ellie walked ahead of you, mumbling under her breath from the lack of shelter. Her agitation was ruminating off her skin like a furnace. “We should’ve never gone this way— there’s nothing out here!”

Her agitation was obviously laced with panic. Ellie was exhausted from all the traveling and worries about conflict. “We entered a campsite a few miles back. At the very least there should be a cabin out here.” You surmised, squinting your eyes trying to defy the darkness. The auburn-haired woman scoffed under her breath, adjusting the hood of her raincoat. “If you wanna take a break, just say that.” You reached for her wrist, pulling gently. “It’s been a long day…”

“Absolutely not. We need a place to sleep tonight— with a roof.” Ellie pulled her arm away, placing her hands onto her hips. Her head hung low, clearly fatigued.

“How about this: you park it by this tree for a little bit, while I walk around to see if I can find somethin’ for us.” You offer, shrugging your shoulders, casually. The both of you were exhausted, but it seemed that Ellie was suffering a bit more than you were. Was that not that point of a team? To tap in someone else when you need it. Plus, you really felt that there was a cabin nearby. There had to be one. Most campsites had cabins that hikers and campers would go to before they began their adventures. For supplies or even important notices about wild animals.

Or, maybe, you watched too much tv at the firefly base.

She shook her head. “No chance. Separating in the dark doesn’t sound like a good idea to me. What? So, you can get lost and give us another problem to deal with?”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you press your lips into an irritated line. “Are you seriously insulting my intelligence, right now?” You raised an eyebrow, glaring at the woman in front of you. “I was a firefly for six years of my life—“

“Oh, my God! The whole world knows that you were a fucking firefly, y/n. No need for the reminder.”

Ellie began to walk in another direction, sternly. You scoffed, following after her like confused duckling—which was an embarrassing thought. “You’re so insufferable. All I was trying to do was help you out— because to be honest, you’re not handling this well.” You quip, walking by her side with your hands shoved into your pockets.

She scoffed. “How could I handle this well? Please, tell me.” Stopping in her tracks, she glares at you. Olive irises blown out from the darkness around her, boring into your aggressive frame.

Taking a step closer to her, the corners of your lips curled, mischievously. “You could start by taking a fucking break and letting me take the lead.” There was something that differed between you and Ellie’s versions of frustration and anger. She took it up a level, while you brought it down. It could fool an idiot into thinking you weren’t mad at all, when really you were fuming. The pace of your voice was slow, almost menacing. True fire remained behind your eyes, in your posture—the way your lip twitched as you spoke.

“I’m not some damsel in distress you pull everywhere then blame when shit goes wrong.” You added, taking in her battered features. The scar in her eyebrow and her top lip. The freckles under her peeling skin from the days aboard. “I have a great sense of direction; I’ll have you know.” As you spoke, she examined your features the same way you did. “Stop arguing with me, sit your ass down, drink some water— and i’ll be back in twenty minutes tops!”

Ellie rolled her tongue in her mouth, averting her eyes from you. She was too stubborn to admit her own exhaustion to you—she’d rather be in control of the situation than someone she barely knew. Someone, who at the start of this trip, was, in fact, a damsel in distress. Your body had healed in the days since departing Santa Barbara. Not completely, but in progress. You were walking better, even though you still had a bit of a limp.

Her focus on you made it easy to forget her own ailments. The missing fingers on her left hand, the wound on her abdomen. They were healing, surprisingly. However, her attention still remained on your well-being.

She sighed, itching her nose with her index finger. “Fine. Whatever.” Ellie shrugged her backpack off, leaning against the tree. “Just come back in one piece, yeah?” Somehow, she managed to sound insulting with her hidden words of weariness.

You snickered, narrowing your eyes. “Is that worry I’m sensing or…?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

With that, you backed toward the path, chuckling under your breath. Adjusting the hood over your head, you focused to begin looking for the cabin that you just knew was close by. Feet crunching over dead leaves and sticks that were imbedded in the mud.

The light attached to the strap of your bag began to flicker as you pushed between the trees. “Come on…” You hit the light to stabilize it. “Now is not the time.”

When you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light.

Your past affiliations haunted you like a ghost. Somehow, you always found yourself looking for that light. Perhaps, in this case, it’s Jackson, Wyoming—a place far from what you know. That was more of a long-term goal, though. The light you were currently looking for was a building made of wood, preferably insulated.

Ahead of you, you weren’t sure if you were seeing things, but what you were hoping for was coming into view. The brightness of the moon illuminating the starry sky outlined the top of the cabin, exposing its silhouette. In excitement, you rushed toward the building, peaking through the foggy windows. From what you could see, there was nothing inside but old furniture. Thankfully, no infected. You were beat; the last thing you wanted to do was fight that damn virus.

As you peeked through every window you could find, jiggling door handles to try and find a way in, you realized it was a home. Not some hiking administration building you surmised would be around the trail. Spending enough time circling the cabin, you pick up a rock from the ground to crack a window. You were getting in that house one way or another.

The rectangular shape was rather high for your reach. Huffing, you dug your fingers into the divots of the logs. It wasn’t the best grip, but it was enough to get you into that window. After throwing your body through the hole, you landed on the ground with a thud. A shallow pain throbbed in your thigh—the one that Ellie had stitched for you back in Santa Barbara. Shutting your eyes, you took in a breath from the slight pain. You weren’t one hundred percent just yet.

Exhaling, you stood tall on your feet to get a look at the interior. A long plaid couch was placed in front of what used to be a fireplace. Burned logs was still lying in the pit, but they burned to a crisp. You were certain that if you touched them, they would fall apart under the weight of your hand. The dirt shapes on the walls symbolized that picture use to fill this space—the cabin was drained of life.

It’s only source of existence was the fact that you were standing in it.

Before leaving to retrieve Ellie, you jogged up the steep stairs of the cabin. To check the upstairs rooms for any infected or people. You must’ve been one lucky woman, because there was nothing but dust occupying those rooms. Quickly, you went through the front door to grab your partner.

Crunching on leaves and sticks, you startled her. Ellie was spotted sat in front of the tree, leaning her back with her eyes closed—which was the least smart thing to do, but she was tired. The sound of your boots crushing the elements of the forest jolted her from her light sleep. She gripped her switchblade in a fist, looking at you with determination. “Fuck,” She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. “I thought you were someone else…”

“Nope. Just me.” You breathed, watching her as she stood to her feet. “There’s a cabin about ten minutes from this spot.” Crossing your arms, a slight smile rested on your lips. A smile screaming I-told-you-so.

Ellie slung her bag around her shoulders, dusting off her jeans; doing everything to ignore your antics. “Are we just gonna stand here, or are you gonna show me where it’s at?”

Sucking your teeth, you pivoted, rolling your eyes. She was such a sore loser. It felt good to be right, and for her to be wrong. You didn’t get lost like she thought—instead, you carried out exactly what you planned: finding shelter for the night.

The two of you approached the cabin, Ellie releasing a sigh of relief. Hallow sounds of your shoes walking up the steps of the wooden porch sounded. You opened the door, allowing her to walk through. Staring her down with same smile you had a few minutes ago. “Nice place, huh?” You asked, shutting the door behind you, turning the lock.

She meandered inside, surveying the interior. Her fingers slide along the dusty bannister above the fireplace, pursing her lips. “Not bad…” Ellie lifted an eyebrow, peering over her shoulder at you. Lifting her finger, she eyed the dust that stuck to her skin.

“Told you there was a cabin around here somewhere.”

“I knew you were gonna say that.” Ellie chuckled, dryly. Taking moderate steps toward the kitchen. Every time you stopped, she insisted that inventory was taken of all of your supplies. She achingly tugged her backpack off, sighing. You followed behind her, leaning your arms against the counter—watching her tired movements.

“Why are you looking at me?” She dropped her hands onto the counter, with that familiar irritated glint in her eyes.

You purse your lips. “You know I could do this, right?” Shrugging off your bag, you swing it onto the counter. There was a slight sway to Ellie—the only reason being her exhaustion. “We’ve done this a number of times; you can go rest up. There are three bedrooms upstairs— take your pick.”

Ellie scoffed, continuing the work in front of her. Counting under her breath. You grit your jaw, glaring at her. She was truly insufferable—moments like these really highlighted that. Her stubbornness and pride amounted about the same to yours; causing you to wonder… Were you just as bad? You pity the friends you had in your youth if that was the case. Releasing a meditative breath, you placed a hand over hers. “Seriously, Ellie, I got it. Go get some sleep.”

She looks at you through her eyelashes, allowing your skin to remain on hers. “Aren’t you tired, too?”

“Yeah, but not as much as you… I could stand to be up for a little while longer. You on the other hand��”

She pulled her hand from under yours, pushing off her wet hood. Her auburn strands were damp, sticking to her freckled skin. “All right. Make sure to write down the things we don’t have that we need.”

“I know.”

“And mark the items that we’re running low on.”

“Again, I know.” You motion with her hand to run along with amused eyes. Waiting to begin, you watch as she hesitantly walks toward the steep wooden stairs around the corner.

It was like pulling teeth for Ellie to willingly hand over responsibility to you. In her mind, she was still doing you a favor—she was working for you. But being that she was extremely tired, her inhibitions loosened. The touch of your skin to hers, surprisingly, comforted her concerns; made her sleepier. She heavily stepped up the stairs, leaning on the railing for support.

She walked into the first bedroom she saw. The light from the moon cascaded through the window that the queen-sized bed was pushed against. Shedding her damp clothing, she spread them out onto a dresser before getting into the bed. Before nodding off, she peered out the window with a burdened mind. Remembering the bulk of her actions leading up to Santa Barbara. With the added misfortune of Santa Barbara. Then… You.

The moon reflected over a sparkling pier, that was down a hill behind the cabin. The lake was completely in her view, rippling subtly from the fish beneath the surface. She cracked a smile, peering at the beautiful sight. Rolling up a pillow, she propped it up enough to let that be the final thing she sees before sleeping. Using the elements of the earth as a night cap.

She’d woken up many times throughout the night, but she was used to that habit. When the sun peaked through her window, Ellie had gotten as much sleep as she could have. The smell of cooked fish had wafted into her nostrils, pulling her from the old mattress. With a groan, she swung her legs over, rubbing her eyes.

In a blur, from the corner of her eyes, she saw a figure walking toward the pier. Blinking, she leaned on the pillows against the window, watching as the figure began to remove their clothes—it was you. Ellie watched as you dropped your items, carelessly, before jumping into the water. For the first time in awhile, her mind went blank. Completely empty.

Well… Not that empty.

She checked the clothes she had on from the night before, and for some reason, they still were damp. Enough moisture resided in her jeans that she didn’t feel comfortable putting them back on. Sighing, she began searching through the drawers for anything she could put on in the meantime.

Finding a pair of plaid pajama pants, she slid those on, throwing her holed band t-shirt over her sports bra. “What time is it?” She patted her jeans for the watch she carried with her. Cursing under her breath, she realized it was left in her backpack.

Quickly, Ellie found herself navigating to the first floor. Her eyes widened at the organized sight of all of your supplies. You had grouped similar items together and left a piece of paper with the amounts in each group. At the bottom of the page, you had written a list of the items you needed more of. Ellie’s watch was sitting on the end of the counter, properly placed. “You have outdone yourself…” She muttered, picking up the paper you scribbled on.

When she flipped it over, the subtle grin her lips faded. Seeing the sorrowful words written on the page. Since leaving Santa Barbara, she noticed you pulling out this letter a lot. The one you fetched from under that infected woman. You had never gone into what this letter or note meant to you—probably, because she never asked. That didn’t mean she wasn’t curious about it, though. Ellie never would’ve expected that you’d write on it over something as silly as taking inventory.

There were so many things she didn’t understand about you.

The aroma of fish filled her nostrils again, leading her to slab of rock placed on the counter. A coverage of cloth was placed over the fish to ward off flies. She peeked under it, seeing a perfectly scaled and grilled fish. Hunger got the best of her, and she began to eat the fish with her hands. Humming at the satisfaction of filling her stomach.

After, she grabbed the cracked watch to check the time. It was ten in the morning, the both of you should’ve been back on the road.

Pressing her lips into a line, she walked out the back door to alert you. Her fingers fiddling with the plaid cotton on her legs.

The air was fairly cool, but the sun warmed you up. Basking in the lake was like splashing your face with cold water in the morning—it was a wake-up call. Something that you needed after the night you had. In the room across from Ellie’s, the bed was too firm, and the sheets were too prickly. Your mind kept you up with the image of Honey’s infected body. And, whenever you did shut your eyes, you were back on those pillars again.

You had no choice but to get up early and occupy yourself. So, you fished for a little while, then cooked what you caught—for yourself and the sleeping woman upstairs. After that, you thought you could use a bath. And there was nothing more satisfying than cool lake water—nature’s finest.

You allowed the water to engulf you, embracing your body like a chilled hug. Breaking the surface, you swam comfortable laps around the lake. As you lazily backstroked, you noticed Ellie walking down the steps that led to the dock.

Her auburn hair was spiked all across her head—she must’ve slept well. You chuckled, swimming up the edge of the dock. Placing your hands against it, to pull yourself up a little. Bare shoulders glistening from the sunlight reflecting off your wet skin. “You have a bad case of bedhead, my friend.”

“What?” She immediately became self-conscious, running her hands through her hair. Shaking her head, she adjusted her features, trying to uphold her naturally irritated persona; scrunching her eyebrows and clenching her jaw. “You let me sleep too late; it’s ten. We should start packing up.” Her eyes avoided you, instead, focusing on the plants surrounding the lake. Or your pruned fingers holding onto the dock.

Looking up at her with squinted eyes, you dramatically sniffed. “Why don’t you hop in? You smell like shit.” You ignored her small jabs of blame, coating your lips with a smile. Perhaps, you’ve been spending too much time with her, but her little irritations were beginning to amuse you more than bother you. Or, from the angle that you were peering up at her, she looked really… Pretty. Bedhead and all.

“Excuse me?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows, finally meeting your eyes.

“I’m serious. Let’s resume the trip smelling better than a sewer.” You began to paddle backwards, almost forgetting about your own nakedness. “Take off your clothes… I‘ll give you privacy. Unless you’re too… Chicken.”

She hesitated, watching you swim backwards. Catching an accidental glimpse of your breasts as you turned around. It was true that she didn’t smell the greatest. Before she could formulate her thoughts properly, Ellie spoke. “Chicken? Really, y/n?” She sighed, punching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But not for long— I wanna make it to Idaho within the next two days…”

Ellie shed her clothes, dropping them close to yours. She jumped into the water, keeping her head from going under, loudly reacting to the coldness of the lake. “Shit!” She exclaimed, treading water.

You turned around, chuckling, noticing her hair still disheveled. “You’ll feel better if you dunk yourself under water.”

“Hell, no! It’s too cold.”

“This doesn’t have to be another I-told-you-so moment…”

She rolled her eyes, clenching her nostrils with her fingers, lowering herself under water. Allowing the cold, earthy, lake water to encapsulate her. The first few seconds were chilling, but her body began to adapt. It became rather comforting—easing her sore muscles and healing wounds.

The lake did the same for you, which was why you were still inside of it. Time stopped at the pier; at least it felt like it did. Existing felt normal, for once. There weren’t any violent rogue people, or hungry infected. Just you and Ellie bathing in a lake.

Ellie broke the surface, running her hands over her saturated strands. Her pale skin was flushed, from what you could only assume, was the briskness in the air and the chillness of water. However, that may not have completely been the case. “Feel better?” You ask, waving your arms under the water to keep yourself afloat.

The corners of her lips curled, subtly. You had to squint to really notice her amusement. She rolled her eyes in a way to avert her gaze. “Yeah, a little.” Ellie finally peered at you, pointing a dripping finger. “Don’t say it.”

“Say what?” A grin plastered on your lips. “I told you so?”

“Do you realize how annoying you are, or just me?”

You pursed your lips, feigning thought. “Just you, I think.”

Honestly, you’re proud of yourself. A lot of the relationship blossoming between your traveling partner and yourself had been developing under the pressure of your attitudes and circumstances. The fact that you could get her to crack a smile, even if it was faint, felt good. It was either the dock’s magic, or your own.

A beat passed while the two of you circled each other. Barely looking at the exposed skin above the water, trying to be distracted by the world around you.

Surprisingly, Ellie was the first to speak—or the first to question you. She rarely every asked you anything. “That letter you carry with you…” The woman awkwardly began. “I saw it on the counter— who wrote it?”

Her voice grabbed your attention immediately at the mention of the note. You held onto it like a totem, a piece of memorabilia from your past. Hesitating, you moved your eyes from left to right in thought. “I know that it came from Santa Barbara. From that house…”

“It’s from an old friend.” You started, lips parting slowly as you spoke. Mouth going dry at the question she asked. You’ve yet to physically get the chance to talk about Honey. From the days aboard the boat, you’ve been trying to forget what you saw. Maybe, you could convince yourself that she was off living the life she wanted—instead of spending her last days suffering under the hammer of infection. “Some girl I met at that God-forsaken resort…” You attempted to casually respond.

“She got infected?”

“Yeah…” You nodded with avoidance, shutting your eyes and moving your head with a cadence of I-don’t-wanna-talk-about-it.

Ellie pursed her lips, nodding. “Why’d you write on the letter? I don’t know… It looks like it means a lot to you— I don’t understand why you would write on it?” She spoke, thoughtfully, as if she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. That was certainly the first time.

You shrug, wanting to hide somewhere, even though there was nowhere to do so. “I just want to forget about it… I guess.”

“If you cared about her, why would you wanna forget about it?”

The muscles in your forehead twitched, bunching your eyebrows together. Your face burned, lips scowling. Ellie’s voice evolved from a soft curiosity, to a judgmental version of it. You sensed the difference the moment it fell from her lips. The intention of her words didn’t matter—it was what she said that bothered you. Did she think you were cruel for wanting to forget about seeing her in that state?

“If I cared about her?” You started, evenly, but with warning. “I did care about her— I do care about her! If I choose not to remember her as a fucking corpse, that makes me a bad person?” Your voice raised, for the first time in awhile, rasping.

Ellie sighed, shaking her head with pleading eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

You scoff, swimming toward the dock. “Well, I’m sure that’s what you meant, right?” Pulling yourself out of the water, you don’t think twice about the exposing of your naked body. Cold air pricking at your wet skin. “I’m the asshole for wanting to remember Honey alive rather than dead…” You wrapped the towel you brought with you around your body, balling your clothes into your arms.

Lamely, Ellie called for you from her place in the water as you left her behind. Before you covered up, she eyed the scars and bruises on your body—maps of what your vessel has been through. Perhaps, she should have entered the conversation with more caution.

Watching you stalk back into the cabin, wiping at your eyes felt like a punishment. A worse punishment than the fact that she didn’t have a towel to dry off with.

“Nice work, Ellie.”

#🪅#millersfinest #ellie tlou #ellie williams imagine #lesbian #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #mini series

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