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ancuninfiles · 2 months

Text

Comfort Pt 1. (Revised)

Screenshot by @astarionposting

6.4k words - F/M - Astarion x F! Named Tav (Nym) - 18+

I have recently heavily revised this chapter. Since working with @gelican-gelicant, I've learned a lot about writing and I'm proud to share this with you. Still, this chapter has not been beta-read, but I don't think it's a requirement. I'm hoping that those who've been scared away from Comfort™ will give it a second chance, now that the first chapter has essentially been rewritten. Please, feel free to let me know what you think in the comments! :) Thanks!

Work summary: Nym, a wood-elf, finds herself thrust into leadership of a ragtag crew. From day one she is overwhelmed by the sudden responsibility. She seeks solace and unexpectedly finds herself drawn to the tent of a pale elf. In the intimacy of their encounter, they both ponder the potential for mutual comfort and connection amidst the chaos of their new journey.

Chapter summary: Nym the Wood Elf finds herself Wild-Shaped in the pale elf's tent, though he is unaware of the strange druid that he's accidentally invited into his dwelling. As they inadvertently share secrets, they discover solace and connection in each other's embrace.

Tags: Smut and Fluff, Druid Tav, Soft Astarion, P in V sex, Oral (female receiving), Wood elf Tav, Blood drinking, Vampire bites, Choking, Light BDSM, Soft dom Astarion, Tav is autism-coded, Creampie, Aftercare, Astarion is a dork

MASTERLIST (Other chapters and works)

Read on AO3 (recommended)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•✮˖⁺‧₊˚

It was a brisk night in Faerün, and the crisp gentle breeze that whisked through the camp caused the walls of Nym’s tent to expand and contract, almost as if it were alive.

She had gained allies, fellow victims of Mind Flayer parasites, and inexplicably, on the very first day of this ordeal, they had chosen her as their leader, though she couldn’t fathom why.

Nym was chronically indecisive, often unsure even about simple choices, such as which berry to use for jam. Consequently, every jam she made ended up as a mixed-berry concoction.

Over the day, a pounding headache had begun to possess her, and she did not know if this sudden affliction was caused by the unwanted parasite in her brain or the recent stress of her gratuitous position at the helm of her freshly instituted cohort.

"Silvanus, save me," she whispered to herself in quiet prayer as she sat in her tent with folded legs that teetered repetitively with pent-up nervousness.

Nym, ever avoidant, attempted to sort through the folds of her mind, searching for ways to quell her anxious streak.

Make tea? Read a book? Take a warm bath?

But they possessed no tea nor books, and certainly no hot spring.

Nym groaned, carding her fingers through her hair and tugging at her scalp. Whatelsewhatelsewhatelse? Come on, think, she pressed -

Although . . .

Nym was hit with a sudden recollection, one of when she was just a young girl seeking solace away from others.

My cat Wild Shape, she mused.

In the stream of her consciousness, Nym caught glimpses of memories where she pranced on four furry legs, finding solace within the hollows of rotten logs - far removed from the dramas of her people both physically and spiritually.

She doubted that if she were to Wild Shape into a cat and slip into the woods, her newfound acquaintances would even notice her absence; and if they did, she also doubted they would care.

Perfect, Nym thought.

She was resolute in her plan: Slink away for an hour or so. Nym felt confident that she’d be able to avoid any responsibilities, if only for a night.

Cautiously exiting her tent, she slid on her sandals and made her way into the woods, deliberately avoiding any twigs that might find their way between her toes, knowing that the sensation of such a mishap would surely trigger a paroxysm of discomfort within her.

"Argh," she fumed. As if the universe had read her mind and was out to get her, sap found its way into her sandals, and - like clockwork - was sending her teetering over the edge of sanity.

In a rage, Nym’s form became arcane, ripping and contracting violently to suit her new cat shape.

Settling into her brown fur-covered body, Nym’s ears twitched at the high-pitched sounds caused by the bristling branches and whistling wind. These sounds, which would normally calm her frayed nerves, now caused her to vehemently tense her muscles and clench her sharp-toothed maw, unbidden.

Stepping out of her clothes, which pooled at her feet on the dirt-covered forest floor, she gingerly trekked back toward camp.

Surely none of her companions would find it strange to see a cat wandering around the camp. In fact, they would probably just assume she was looking for scraps or hunting for fish down by the river.

As she reached the tree line, she observed that everyone was either gathered around the fire or nestled inside their tents. Grateful for the solitude, she made her way toward the flickering flames, her path taking her past the pale elf's opulent red tent.

She couldn't remember his name. Aster? Asherion? Hmm, she pondered.

He had an air of slight menace, yet his charm couldn't be denied, she reflected. With seemingly a repertoire of sardonic quips at his disposal, he was frequently armed and ready to defuse tension with a well-timed barb, a quality she found rather admirable.

Individuals like him were invaluable in social settings, Nym believed. Her own tendency to feel self-conscious often left her at a loss for words, making her grateful for those adept at breaking the silence and easing the tension.

Gods, it helps to have someone silly with a dark sense of humour to be idiots with.

She wondered if he felt the same way and envisioned them becoming friends, hoping that his presence could alleviate the weight of the horrors they were sure to face; courtesy of the tadpoles nestled happily within their craniums.

She was only mere steps from the crackling fire when she heard a mouse-like sound, summoning her to look back.

To her utter surprise, it was the white-haired elven man, holding his hand out, and rubbing his thumb on his fingers in offering. The look on his face was relaxed with eyes that were slightly widened, contrasting with his otherwise composed expression.

"Psspsspsspsspsssss," the pale elf made the one sound that Nym couldn't resist in her cat form.

Hypnotized by the gesture of his digits and the sound of his call, Nym's feline pupils blew wide, expanding to consume most of her golden irises. Bringing her body tight to the ground, she stalked towards the white-haired elf's tent.

Against her better judgment, she crawled closer to his hand, salivating as she sped up. Finally, she pounced on his hand and wrist, capturing it in a fighter’s hold, ferociously nibbling at his wrist and kicking his hand with her hind legs.

"Ah ah - we ask before we bite," he said, disarming her before gently scratching her soft, fluffy tummy.

Unlatching, she slumped into a purring puddle of fur and slowly closed her eyes as she leaned into the relaxing sensation of his touch.

The grinning elf scooped her onto his lap and into his tent. "You are a very cuddly kitty," he cooed.

He began to pet her, starting at her armpits and making his way up to her fuzzy onyx chin. He rubbed her belly when she rolled over, and even scratched and patted the base of her tail when she rolled back onto her tummy.

Periodically standing up on his lap, she would stretch her front paws up to his chest and nudge his chin with her head.

During her unexpected detour into the stranger’s tent, never once had it crossed her walnut-sized mind that it might be a poor decision, nor a lapse in judgment - no - her focus was solely on the way he tenderly caressed her; blessing her with the comfort that she had yearned for all night. The feeling enveloped her, possessing her mind as if she were a meagre thrall, obedient to its master's every command.

The cat-loving elf showered her with affection for several minutes before relenting; only then did Nym curl up into a ball on his hard, marble chest, peacefully trancing and purring.

She relaxed blissfully, slowly kneading at his chest with her toes and claws, thoughtlessly accepting all of the pets that the gentle pale elf offered.

"Oh kitty, I’ve had a terrible day, you wouldn't believe it,” he whispered, "your snuggles are the highlight of my evening."

He poked her wet nose with a precise, feather-light touch, causing her to twitch her head briefly before settling back comfortably on his chest.

"Do you think people will understand if I bite like you do?" He asked in his most hushed tone yet. "Will people think I'm cute if I bite like you? Gods I'm starving." He threw his unoccupied hand to his face, cupping his nose before dragging it down to his chin, stretching the skin in his wake.

The sound of his hand abruptly making contact with his face, and his odd question stirred Nym from her trance. If I bite like you do - okay? Odd. But then - Gods I'm starving? She pondered his words critically.

Still snuggled up on his chest, she tucked her paws under herself and purred a quiet rumble, contemplating with a person-like capacity for the first time since entering his vermillion candlelit tent.

What an odd thing for one to say. Is he a cannibal? Like the Bhaalspawn type?

She sniffed to test her theory, but his fresh scent of bergamot and rosemary led her to conclude that he was indeed not a Bhaalspawn. What she had read about Bhaalspawn had taught her that a lingering diluted stench of rot always accompanied them.

She quizzed herself, questioning what other creatures consumed the flesh or blood of humanoids, considering zombies or hags; however, upon examining the flawless complexion of the man beneath her, she realized that her hypotheses were impossible.

A vampire? No way. He was in the beating sun when we’d met, and he would’ve been ash before I even got there if that were the case; although . . .

She peered down at his face, looking for what she knew to be the tell-tale signs of a vampire: red eyes, pale skin, and sharp teeth.

Standing on his hard chest, she noticed his eyes were closed.

Despite his peaceful expression, she felt it necessary to disturb his rest - if not to confirm her suspicions, then to set her curious mind at ease.

Ghosting her whiskers over his lips, she successfully stirred him from his evanescent trance

"Oh, kitty - you are so sweet," he squeaked, blinking and sitting up before Nym could properly inspect his irises.

The handsome man set her down beside him and stretched his arms, first grasping one elbow and then the other, accompanied by a bend of his torso.

Standing in the pale elf’s blankets, she peered up to his candlelit face which, much to her dismay, bore two garnet-coloured eyes.

Well - if he doesn't have fangs, he could be part drow

Without missing a beat, he flashed her a toothy grin, revealing his long, sharp canine teeth.

The sudden realization caused panic to surge through her; if what she knew of the Vampyre held true, the beautiful elven man would surely make a meal of her.

Arching her back, Nym’s fur stuck straight out in all directions.

The stranger did not notice, for he was gazing in the other direction.

"Well kitty, time for me to start getting ready to rest," he said with a smile as he took off his night-shirt, exposing his toned muscles that rippled under lightly freckled ivory skin. His thumbs slid under the waistband of his breeches, making his next move all too clear: he was going to remove his trousers.

Nym wasn't the most socially aware, but she knew it was exceedingly inappropriate to gaze upon someone's nude form without their knowledge; an act known as peeping, she recalled, remembering a passage she’d read on the topic once before.

Just as he was readying himself to stand and pulling his pants past his hip bones, Nym panicked and, on impulse, arcanely ripped herself back into her regular humanoid self.

She had dismissed her Wild Shape, leaving her bare-bodied and trembling before the half-naked vampire.

They both screamed, their voices overlapping, before instinctively moving to cover each other's mouths with their hands. Then, a heavy silence descended as they locked eyes, both filled with terror.

"What was that? Is everyone okay?" Yelled the wizard from his tent.

The pale elf vehemently tore Nym’s hand from his mouth. "Yes, Just practicing for the opera!" He yelled while rolling his eyes before looking at her with downward-canting brows, a deep frown painting his face.

"I see. Maybe save it for tomorrow instead of waking everyone at camp, thank you," spoke the wizard once more.

Nym couldn't help but giggle under his palm; perhaps her worry was all for naught, as his playful fib toward the wizard had served to remind her of the lighthearted demeanour he'd shown all day.

Suddenly becoming too aware of her nudity, she pulled away from his palm, hugging her knees to her chest. She would have rather planned to be naked in front of him; instead, she’d transformed and had yet to learn how to do so while maintaining her clothed state.

"Can I - er - have that blanket for a moment, please," Nym asked, shyly.

The pale elf scoffed. "Fine, but only because I am such a gentleman - Godsdamned druids." He gave her the blanket and she prudently draped it over her shoulders and around her knees.

"I - um - I'm really sorry," she apologized, her gaze falling and her cheeks blushing with embarrassment.

The handsome elf pinched his brow ridge between his finger and thumb, closing his eyes and scrunching his face in a scowl. "Why did you let me go on for so long, believing you were a real cat?"

As he spoke, Nym looked at him, but when she began to ponder the answer to his question, her gaze fell once more.

"I guess it's just that when I Wild Shape, sometimes the instincts of whatever animal I turn into take over me; like I'm not in control," she explained, "You summoned me with your - bewitching gestures and sounds.” Her face screwed up as she recalled his actions.

The pale elf covered his face with both hands as if trying to hide his embarrassment. "Oh, Gods - save me for once. Please just this once."

Witnessing his expression, Nym felt a pang of guilt; nevertheless, as the leader, she knew she had to be open with him about her conclusions on his vampiric affliction. Still, her resolve warred with embarrassment, causing her already poor communication skills to fray ever so slightly.

"I - er - heard what you said about biting and what-not," Nym said, pushing past her nervousness, "And your eyes! Your teeth - well. . . Also, I forgot your name; what was it again? Asherton?"

He ran both hands through his hair, gripping his scalp as his eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened, fixed on the tent floor.

"This isn't happening," he said, voice cracking, "No - this isn't real. I must be having a nightmare or - something."

Nym internally scrutinized his frantic demeanour, her frustration mounting as she sensed her words falling on deaf ears. "Rah,” she groaned, “I said I'm sorry and it's okay that you're toothy and bitey," she snipped.

For some reason, she felt oddly comfortable around this man - this creature - who could easily rip her throat out.

He breathed deeply, sighing on the exhale. "Astarion."

"A'staring at what? I'm sorry - I'll look away," said Nym, turning her head sideways, hoping to make him feel more comfortable.

"No, you blubbering idiot. That's my name - my name's Astarion," he quipped.

"Oh - uh - so can I look at you or not?" She asked him in earnest.

"If a wall were nearby, I would smash my head against it," Astarion confided.

"Why would you do that?” Nym prodded, looking at him quizzically.

Astarion stared daggers at her, mouth agape and brows knitted together.

. . .

A pregnant silence blanketed the duo, stirring unease within Nym.

"I should go,” she professed, readying herself to stand and pinching his beige blanket together near her décolleté.

As she turned to his tent flap, she felt a cool hand grasp her arm, engendering her to look back.

˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•✮˖⁺‧₊˚

"Wait!" Astarion pleaded.

By the time the word left his mouth, it had been too late to mask the desperation in his tone.

Seeking reparation, Astarion intentionally lowered his volume. "Look - I just need more details on what you found out about me," he spoke with a serious intonation, tilting his head down and gazing up at her through his eyelashes.

Nym turned to face him, still draped in his taupe blanket like a cloak. "Oh - well... I might have concluded that you’re a vampire, but it confuses me that you can walk in the sun." Her words tumbled out quickly, driven more by her curiosity than by fear of the monster before her.

As Astarion forced a smile, he expelled a sigh tinged with frustration.

"Ah - okay, glad we've cleared that up. Now, is there any chance that you could keep those pretty little lips of yours shut about this specific topic with the others? I would much rather broach the topic myself," he said, letting go of her forearm.

She blinked rapidly, as if trying to process his words, her expression shifting from confusion to mild offence.

"I wasn't planning on telling anyone,” she reassured, her voice softening with each word. “I have the feeling that you're not dangerous; well - not dangerous to us at least."

"What?" His eyes widened in mock horror. "I'll have you know I am very dangerous, actually." He smiled, the corners of his lips twitching with amusement.

"I know! That’s not what I mean, though. I’m realizing that I think you wouldn’t hurt me; am I correct?" Nym asked, only somewhat fearing what the answer might be.

Astarion pursed his lips to the side and held his chin in thought. "Hmm."

Releasing his chin, he scanned Nym’s form, his eyes roving up her body and then landing on her face. This could be an opportunity, he thought.

In an instant, he turned on his charm, honed over two hundred years of courting partners to bring back to his master in Bladur’s Gate.

Flashing her a roguish grin, he started, "Not unless you want me to," he said before leaning in close to Nym, his lips nearly brushing on her ear, "darling."

His last word was spoken like an enchantment, sending a pleasant chill down her spine and causing her to shiver, unbidden.

Nym froze in place, her face reddening deeply. "I'm not quite sure what you mean by that," she exclaimed.

"I recall you biting me without asking, dear." He snaked his right hand to the back of her head, fingers gently running through her hair. "Do you remember what I told you?"

Nym gulped and gazed at his handsome, pale face, mere centimetres from hers - her heart beating quickly as if she were merely a rabbit in the jaws of a sly fox. Despite her increased heart rate, she instinctively held her breath as he toyed with her locs. "To ask before I bite," she said, unsure if she was about to become his meal or his lover.

"Good girl. Now - it would only be right of me to follow my own rules, correct?" Astarion’s voice resonated in a low tenor, his eyes fixed on her expression as he gingerly massaged the back of her scalp.

Relieved, Nym's head lolled back into his tender touch.

"Mmmyeah," the words spilled from her lips like a moan.

Astarion leaned in once again, this time ghosting his lips on her throat beneath her ear and bringing his unoccupied hand to the small of her back, nudging her closer. "So - what do you say? May I? I only need a taste - I swear," he purred into her neck.

"You can do whatever you want with me if you keep touching me like that." Entranced by his decadent ministrations, the pale elf had disarmed her yet again.

Whatever I want? He thought, pulling away and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Darling - are you sure about this? We might get carried away, and we've only just met."

Astarion thought that she might allow him to drink from her; his charm rarely failed him, but he didn’t expect her to offer her body as well. A pleasant surprise, considering that he’d fantasized about taking her on the cliffside when they’d just met. The way her bottom squirmed against his groin while he held a dagger to her throat, and the scent of her blood blooming beneath the surface of the skin on her neck was enough to cause his length to strain against his smallclothes.

“Among my people, such matters hold little importance,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll gladly partake if that’s what you desire; though I may still yearn for it even if you don’t, but that doesn’t mean that you must—” He silenced her with a finger pressed to her lips, and she gazed up at him, eyes wide with surprise.

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?" He asked, aiming for straightforwardness.

Her speech was muffled by the digit pressed to her lips. "Yes, actually. Usually, they say that I talk too much, but—" Suddenly, Astarion’s lips met hers in a bruising kiss, silencing her once again. He seized the back of her neck and drew her close as he ascended to his knees, looming over her and dominating her mouth.

Nym whined small sounds of pleasure into his mouth as he pulled her taut to his chest, causing the blanket to fall from her shoulder ever so slightly.

With a pop, he broke the kiss, licking his lips as he studied her expression.

Her heavy-lidded eyes met his, and her lips were reddened from their kiss.

"You know. . . I rather like you, my dear," he said, holding her closely. "Now - how about we make ourselves comfortable."

Astarion released her and gestured to his bedroll.

"Oh - Yes," she answered, carelessly dropping the blanket covering her and crawling hastily to his suggested destination.

She hesitated. "Wait - how do you want me?"

He felt a rush in his lower abdomen that made his growing cock twitch."My sweet - if you wouldn't mind lying beneath me, I would be delighted. It will also help when I'm drinking from you; we wouldn't want you toppling over, would we?"

"Right." Nym nodded curtly and positioned herself on the bedroll, still sitting.

Astarion mounted her with a fervent kiss, coaxing her downwards and parting her thighs with his knee. Pushing her legs up to expose her core, he positioned himself fully between her legs, only breaking their kiss to sit back on his knees and take her in.

He stared at her with adoration as he appreciated the shape of her body.

Despite getting on his nerves earlier, he respected her openness and willingness to confess her discovery. Her promise to keep his secret was likely crucial to his survival, and he desired her loyalty, giving him another reason to seduce her and gain her support.

Additionally, he couldn't help but admit to himself that her playful demeanour was extremely endearing; it wasn't often that he would meet someone charming in the way that Nym was.

He desperately wanted her blood; not only because he craved it physically, but also because of the assurance it would provide that he was free from Cazador's compulsion at last.

But then, he yearned to make her come undone beneath him; to feel her quivering around his length and hear her whimper his name in ecstasy; surely for no other reason than to stroke his ego, he reflected as his member strained uncomfortably against his strays.

Nym lay comfortably exposed, her arms resting beside her head while her chest rose and fell with anticipation. Trusting him came intuitively, as she bared her most vulnerable parts to this man who, just moments ago, still felt like a stranger.

They had only met that day, and now, in the quiet of the night, while everyone else slept, they were about to become one.

Squeezing her thighs, Astarion placed his face at her core, his breath teasing her quim.

Reading her face, he witnessed her wet, pleading eyes.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he asserted.

"Of course," she managed to say despite her desirously clouded mind.

"Perfect," Astarion cooed.

He began his plot, licking a thick stripe through her folds and kissing her clit, causing Nym to throw her head back as she moaned.

Her sounds encouraged him to start toying with her clit with his tongue.

She arched her back and bucked wildly onto his tongue, but he held her down to regain control and she groaned through gritted teeth.

He removed his mouth, replacing his tongue with a digit as he stroked her inner walls languidly.

“Careful dear, I have sharp teeth," he warned. "Be a good girl and try to hold still."

"Mhm," was all she could manage to say as she clenched around his finger.

He continued his oral ministrations, groaning into her clit as he sucked on it mercilessly which sent waves of pleasure through her body; although not quite enough to fully satisfy her.

"I need more - please," she pleaded.

Needing no further invitation, he added a second finger to her hole, causing her pelvis to squirm and wanton sounds to spill from her lips.

Curling his fingers, he pumped into her at a consistent pace while lapping up her clit.

The tips of his digits stroked up into her sweet spot, sending her teetering over the edge.

Glancing down at Astarion, she carded her fingers through his moon-coloured curls.

The muscles in her legs tensed as she felt a rising energy in her core. "I'm cumming, Astarion!" She screamed as her orgasm crested, her voice echoing throughout the camp.

He continued fucking her with his hand and torturing her oversensitive nub as she rode out her climax.

Flooded with searing pleasure, she sought reprieve. "Ah - too much!" She hissed.

"Good girl, you are so good at following instructions," Astarion purred, crawling to meet her lips in a brief and tender kiss.

"I'm surprised you remembered my name, darling. I'm impressed," he jested before pushing down his pants just enough to free his large member which rested heavily on her soaking cunt.

She let out a huff of air as she felt his length weigh on her bud. “I certainly don't have the will to protest you right now," she retorted, lying breathless.

Astarion staggered his elbows on either side of her torso, studying her features again; this time, his gaze reflecting not just curiosity, but also a subtle hint of confusion, as if grappling with the capricious nature of his own actions rather than their usual conniving intent.

"Mm - you can stare if you want, but—" She wriggled her hips, teasing his cock.

He choked out a moan, his mouth forming an “O”.

"Oh, you cheeky little pup," he crooned.

"I remember you calling me 'kitty', actually," she teased, smirking.

"You’ll pay for that,” he growled as he reached for his shaft and aligned himself with her core, grinning whilst prodding at her tight entrance with the tip of his cock.

She expelled a high-pitched moan, her face twisting into a needy expression.

Slowly entering her while she twirled her hips sensually, he felt her wetness tightening around him.

Head lolling forward, he eased into her with little effort until he was fully buried to the hilt and his tip kissed her cervix snugly, causing him to choke out an undignified groan.

She enthusiastically shifted her legs up above his arms, her feet dangling in the air above him.

He began with a painfully languid pace, whining in tandem as their lips connected in a passionate, messy kiss.

Their tongues danced around each other's mouths, fighting for dominance as he unhooked one of her legs from his arm and grabbed her cheeks, roughly prying her mouth open further; consequently, her nethers contracted around him.

Ever perceptive, he recognized this before pulling his mouth from hers. "Does the little druid like it rough?" He teased.

"Uhuh," she whined. "Can you choke me - please?" She pleaded with moist, batting eyes, her upward-canted brows reading as desperation on her freckled face.

He groaned excitedly at her lewd suggestion, a sly grin painting his face.

Hearing her desire stirred something within him, prompting him to contemplate his incessant longing for control, freedom, and dominance; concepts that melded together in his mind as if it were a swirling brew - both saccharine and intoxicating.

"Deep breath, my dear," he instructed while thrusting into her consistently.

Nym took a deep breath, making her experience on the matter clear.

Astarion grasped the sides of her throat firmly, causing her quim to quiver violently around his cock.

"What a good little druid, you are," he purred.

He began to rut into her punishingly, using his grip on her throat to thrust with uninhibited force as he rhythmically pulled and pushed her on and off of his length.

He straightened the arm that was at her throat, parting his torso from hers and placing his unoccupied hand on her clit where he rubbed taut circles.

Nym's face became a darker red than her typical blush; evidence of the lack of oxygen reaching her brain.

Her leg muscles showed the impending signs of an orgasm while her back arched off the bedroll, but he slammed into her throbbing cunt and circled her bud remorselessly. He basked in the control that had been gifted to him; no - the control he took of his own volition.

She choked out his name, crying in pleasure as she came with his hand around her throat.

He continued toying with her clit as he removed his hand from her neck, the flush on her skin beginning to fade ever so slightly, being freed from his grasp.

While she rode out her climax, he hooked her right leg over his left shoulder, hovering closer to her throat and blithely pulling her head to the side with a strong grasp of her cheeks.

He sunk his fangs into her flesh, only removing his hand from her cheeks to cavalierly grab at the hair on the back of her head.

With a low tenor, he groaned deeply into her neck, fucking her with a faltering pace, signifying his escalating pleasure.

Her delectable blood pooled into his mouth, enrapturing him with its ambrosius flavours.

Whimpering softly, Nym wriggled on his growing cock in an attempt to escape the abuse on her clit. Thankfully, Astarion freed her bud from his tortuous touch - seemingly as a result of her body language.

Nym carded her fingers through his soft white curls encouragingly, relishing in its silken texture and herbaceous scent.

Sifting through her recollections, she recognized that the elven man whose fangs were piercing her flesh was undeniably the most beautiful she had ever bedded. This was no small feat, considering her many previous lovers, sometimes in pairs or more, all of whom had been remarkably attractive.

Although somewhat painful for a moment, letting him sup from her felt curiously wholesome, as if she were helping a dear friend in need.

She allowed him to imbibe as he soothingly rolled his tongue. He continuously impaled her with his expanding girth, sending her into a blissful stupor that she knew could only be enhanced by one gesture.

"Could you cum for me - please?" Nym slurred her words, hoping he was lucid enough to hear her request.

Within a few moments, Nym felt the tickle of his murmured agreement against her sensitive neck.

An escalating symphony of wet slapping noises and moans coursed through the camp before Astarion snapped his hips into Nym's core; bottoming out as he drank from her neck and overflowing her with his seed.

He shallowly thrust a few more times, thoroughly imbuing her with his jism; his latch on her throat, unrelenting.

Nym, although sated, began to feel herself weakening, as the corners of her vision grew spotty: the telltale signs of blood loss.

Knowing this, she resolved to withdraw her consent at last, and hoped that he would hear her soft voice.

"Astarion, please - stop,” she cooed, tugging gently at the curls on the nape of his neck.

At first, nothing. . .

But then - Astarion jostled as if gearing up to release her.

Taking one last gulp, he somehow found the will to tear himself from her - his fantasy of control coming to a not-unpleasant end.

Panting instinctively, he craned his head into her neck. With the flat of his trembling tongue, he cleaned her wounds, making sure to not waste even a drop of her precious ichor before kissing her chastely; a formality, surely, and not as a lover's gesture, he thought.

Nym hummed, rotating her hips around Astarion's still-hard cock which he had yet to remove.

Grunting, he lifted his head from her neck, grabbing her hips with both hands before thrusting into her once more - as a final treat; for himself or his lover, he did not know.

He placed his hand at the nape of her neck, pulling her into a sloppy, exhausted kiss. They moaned into one another before swiftly breaking away and sharing a seemingly deep, affectionate glance.

"As much as it’d be nice to continue, I fear I’ll be too sore tomorrow if we plan on doing this again," Nym confided, sighing.

"It seems you are as eager as I - you sweet thing," Astarion professed, finally pulling out of her body while they mutually sighed.

"Now - kitty - shall I grab your blankets and tuck you in to spend the rest of your night with me? After we clean you up, of course," he suggested, as it only made sense, of course.

Blushing, Nym fought back a precipitous grin. "I really fucking like you, you know. You're my favourite."

"The feeling is quite mutual, If you couldn't tell already,” he exclaimed, pecking her forehead before giving her head a condescending scratch. "Right then, I'll be right back."

Astarion swiftly tucked himself into his pants and nicked his best handkerchief before rising from his tent to find the kettle. Grateful that the water was still warm, he soaked his handkerchief before prudently ringing it out.

Bringing the soft, damp fabric back to his tent, he somehow felt whelmed, knowing that a beautiful woman was waiting for him; an abstract concept to him, considering he'd only been a means to an end for centuries.

He felt so very gracious for her generosity, but he knew that these things often come with a price. He was indebted, and he wanted to repay her for her favour, but perhaps sex was enough.

Of course, he enjoyed himself, certainly worlds more than he had during any of his previous trysts; Hells, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had an orgasm that torridly intense, or if he'd ever had one like that at all.

Crouching into his crimson tent, handkerchief in hand, he greeted Nym. "Hello, there." He forced a smile, as his mind still swam with anxiety.

"Hi, Astarion. Long time, no see,” she said, giggling at her own joke.

"You are quite the silly one. I'm becoming very fond of that laugh of yours." Astarion confessed.

"Hmm - well, you make me giggle a lot, too, if you haven't noticed." She winked cheekily as the corner of her lip pulled up.

"Oh, I cause you to make all sorts of noises, apparently,” he teased, "Now let me help you wash up."

She huffed a close-lipped laugh while a smile painted her lips.

A tender moment between two strangers who had sought comfort in the form of connection.

Nym believed that moments like these were just as nature intended, for those were the teachings of Silvanus.

Astarion wiped Nym down with his soft cloth, taking care to be both thorough and gentle.

Nym turned her bottom to him, so he used his free hand to briefly massage her backside; a gesture that felt more sensual rather than sexual. Nym hummed, leaning into his touch.

Astarion, feeling satisfied with his efforts, left the tent again to rinse his cloth in the river and hang it up outside his tent in a somewhat obscured location. He stalked over to Nym's tent to gather her belongings, which there were few of, managing to snag a couple of blankets, a pillow, and an unopened glass bottle of water.

He strode back to his tent, clumsily opening the flap with his hand that was also fisting the neck of the water bottle.

Upon entering, he saw Nym who was lying belly-down on his things. “I hoped that you’d had more blankets, but it seems as though we'll have to add it to our shopping list," he stated, mournfully.

"We? Oh - it’d be so pleasant to have assistance with that. I've been finding this whole ‘leader’ thing quite overwhelming." Nym confessed, laughing nervously.

"Well, apologies. I should’ve offered to help you sooner. I may be a monster but I'm not a bum. I can't say the same for our other ‘companions’, however,” he quipped.

Smiling brightly at Astarion, Nym rolled onto her back. "You're not a monster, you're just a bit toothy. I can be toothy sometimes, and I don't think I'm a monster."

"Hmm - well you are only slightly devious so I suppose they would make an exception in the famed Guide to Monsters." He joked.

Dropping the fixings, he began to undress himself, fully.

"Oh, stop. You love me." She jested with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Maybe a little. I do have an appreciation for pretty morsels with claws." He attentively and tactfully placed each blanket atop one another.

Kneeling beside her head, he gestured, "Up." She lifted her head slightly and he tucked her pillow under it with care.

Opening the blankets, he climbed in next to Nym, now lying on her back with her eyes closed while her hands rested lazily on her ribcage. He nudged and caressed her cheek with his knuckle before ghosting a thumb over her lips.

Languidly turning to face him, she opened her eyes, her gaze holding a gentle and weary look.

She snaked her hand up to his ear, caressing it affectionately, engendering him to close his eyes as he basked in her loving touch; a feeling that he hadn't had the opportunity to feel for as long as he could remember.

Unbidden tears formed behind his closed eyes as a fragment of his recent past surfaced in his memories; though he quickly pushed the thought aside, regaining his composure.

If Nym noticed his tearful display, she didn't press.

Maybe in time, as they grew more acquainted, he could open up about his past, and perhaps she, along with the rest of their cohort, could offer him support. But for now, he focused on cherishing this tender moment with his newfound friend.

They lay entwined with one another, trancing until the sun came up.

Despite their predicament, in a way, they both felt it a blessing that they had found one another. The bond that had begun forming between them felt promising, in a way that could make both of them stronger. This was a good thing.

Comfort can be a good thing.

˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•✮˖⁺‧₊˚

𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤,

𝔞𝔫 𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℑ𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔞𝔳𝔬𝔲𝔯,

𝔞 𝔰𝔞𝔠𝔯𝔦𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢

𝔅𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔳𝔢 𝔤𝔬𝔱 𝔞 𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢

𝔖𝔬 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔞 𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔢

˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•✮˖⁺‧₊˚

Read part 2

#astarion ancunin #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #bg3 fanfic #astarion x druid tav #astarion x original female character #astarion headcanons #astarion fanfiction #astarion hurt/comfort

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daisynik7 · 7 months

Text

Sweet Like Honey

Chapter 3: First Vacation

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~5.1k

cw: established relationship, fluff, smut – phone sex, mutual masturbation, PIV sex (doggy style, cowgirl), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, sweeties, baby), use of the word slut (endearing)

Summary: You and Nanami go on your first trip together to a hot springs resort and things get steamy.

Author’s Notes: Here’s the last spicy side story for A Bento for Kento! This is a repost; I’ve rewritten it a bit to reflect my current writing style better. I hope you enjoy it! Nanami deserves all good things in the world! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Previous Chapter | Sweet Like Honey Masterlist

Four months into your relationship, you and Nanami plan your first trip together. The two of you sit on the couch in your living room, digesting the dinner you just ate. There’s a nearby mountain town called Hakone, known for being a hot springs resort with views of Mt. Fuji. Apparently, Nanami has been there before and recommends it. Having never been to a hot spring yourself, the idea of snuggling up next to your boyfriend in a steamy stone bath excites you. That is, until he breaks the news to you. “Hot springs are separate for men and women, sweetheart. We won’t be in the hot springs together.”

You look at him, mouth agape. “Huh, what’s the point then?!”

He chuckles, lifting the back of your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “To relax. You really can’t go a few hours without being beside me?”

You raise a brow at him. “Oh please. Says the man who made me late to work this entire week because you kept wanting to cuddle.”

Smiling, he responds, “I can’t help it. It’s getting cold and you’re too cute. Anyways, I’m planning to book a room with a personal hot tub on the balcony, so we can still relax together at night.”

That does sound nice. And it’s not like you are actually upset about the separate hot springs. It’s probably a better idea not to be near each other when naked in public.

Since the day you two confessed your love for one another, the sex has ramped up quite a bit. And by quite a bit, you mean a lot. With your dear brother Ren officially living in the dorms at Jujutsu High, you and Nanami are together nearly every day, either at your place or his. And with your love for each other growing by the second, it’s no surprise that sex has become a regular part of your lives. You can’t keep your hands off each other. Sometimes, the two of you don’t have the patience to move to the bedroom, so Kento made sure to hide lube in the drawers of each room in both your homes, even in the most unsuspecting of places, like the kitchen and laundry room, which has definitely come in handy already. In the beginning of your relationship, there was still that trepidation of figuring out what each other was comfortable with. Both of you were extremely cautious of not crossing any lines, always asking, “Is this okay?” or “Do you like this?”. After a certain point, you became more comfortable with each other. You feel safe when you’re together. Now, the sex is more passionate than it’s ever been. Knowing he loves you just as much as you love him makes all the difference. This is the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. There’s no holding back.

“Hot tub on a balcony? Sounds very romantic.” You scooch closer to sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Let’s do it.”

“Great. I’ll ask Gojo to help me book it. He’s the one who got us in last time.” He leans forward to nuzzle his nose to yours, grinning. “I can’t wait. Our first vacation together.”

“I’m getting excited just thinking about it.” You kiss him on the lips as he cradles you in his arms.

“What are you thinking about? Are you being naughty again?”

“Of course not! How dare you. You know I’m a good girl,” you say with a coy smile, walking your fingers up his chest to loosen his tie.

He hums. “You are a good girl. You’re my good girl.” His lips brush lightly along your neck. In just a few short minutes, clothes are shed and the drawer next to the couch is open.

~~~

The week of their vacation, Nanami is sent on a mission to Osaka with Gojo. Not only does he have to spend four days in a hotel room with his insufferable friend, but this will be the longest he’s been apart from his girlfriend since they started dating.

On the last night, Nanami groans at his phone, staring at a picture of the yakisoba she made for dinner tonight as he eats a bowl of spicy instant ramen from a convenience store. “Remind me why we don’t have any stipend for food?” Nanami asks Gojo, who is happily slurping away at his noodles, cross-legged on the bed.

“Geez, Nanamin. Sorry our agency can’t afford five-star meals every night. Since when have you been such a snob?!”

“I’d rather be at home, eating my girlfriend’s yakisoba than eating instant ramen with you.”

“I’m so glad you said yakisoba and not something else,” Gojo jokes, with an eyebrow raised.

They finish the rest of their meal in a comfortable silence. When he’s done, Gojo stands up to stretch his long limbs. “I’m going for a walk. Be back in thirty minutes.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just around. I’m giving you some alone time so you can talk to your girlfriend. Take the hint, buddy.”

Surprised, Nanami murmurs, “You don’t have to leave. It’s fine.”

“Seriously, it’s no big deal. Just tell her I say ‘hi’. And remember, thirty minutes. I better not walk in here with your pants down,” he teases, smirking as he opens the door.

“Oh, you are awful,” Nanami mutters before he’s left all alone. Finally.

Immediately, he dials her number and after two rings, she picks up. “Hi baby!”

He loves hearing her voice. It instantly puts him in a good mood. “Hi honey. How are you?”

“Honey? Are you alone right now?”

“Yes. Gojo went out for a walk.”

They chat for several minutes about each other’s week. Nanami talks about the multiple curses they’ve exorcised and how Gojo has them eating convenience store food every night. She complains about work and her friend’s boyfriend drama, which he shamelessly indulges in.

“I miss you so much,” Nanami says. He’s sitting up on his bed now, loosening the tie around his collar.

“I miss you too, Kento.”

“I can’t wait for our vacation tomorrow.”

“Me too.”

There’s a brief silence over the phone, a familiar tension growing between the static noise. She breaks the silence first. “What do you want to do during our trip?”

“Well, we’re going to do the hot springs, maybe a massage –”

“No, Kento. I mean, what do you want to do to me?” He hears shifting on her end. He wonders what room she’s in and what she’s wearing.

He exhales into the phone, reaching for his belt, unbuckling it quietly. “What do you want, sweetheart? I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

“Whatever I want?” she challenges.

“Yes, anything.”

“Can you fuck me like the little slut that I am?”

“Fuck, baby. Fuck,” he mutters, pushing past the waistband of his pants to release his erect cock. He starts jerking off hastily, picturing her sprawled out on the bed for him, legs spread wide and ready to be railed. “You’re such a slut for me, huh? Always so needy for this cock. Where are you right now?” He rasps filthy words into the phone, all discretion tossed out the window.

“I’m on the couch in the living room, touching myself.”

“Already? Can’t even make it to the bedroom, huh? You really are a slut. Can’t wait to eat that pussy out tomorrow. Can’t wait to devour you. You always taste divine on my tongue.”

“God, Kento. Wish you were here. Wish you could fuck me on the couch like you did last week.”

“Have you been touching yourself while I’ve been away? Have you been naughty?” He bites his lip thinking about her rubbing that clit with those cute little fingers, sliding them up and down her wet cunt.

“Yes, I’ve been very naughty,” she huffs, voice trembling with arousal. “How will you punish me?”

“Going to give you a spanking,” he growls, fisting his cock faster, precum leaking from the tip. “Going to fuck you until you can’t come anymore. Going to milk you dry.”

“Is that a promise?” If he listens carefully enough, he can hear the lewd squelches while she pleasures herself, spurring him on.

“You’re such a bad girl, always trying to provoke me. Tell me exactly what you’re doing.”

“Rubbing my clit,” she stammers. “Spreading my cum all over it so it’s nice and wet for you. God, I miss you so much, baby.”

“I know, honey. I miss you too. I miss you too,” he repeats, getting closer and closer to the edge. “Can you make yourself come? For me? Fuck yourself, pretend it’s me doing it. I want to hear it.”

He relishes in her faint whimpers as she masturbates on the phone with him, timing his strokes to match her moans. “There you go, sweetheart. Just like that. You’re doing so good for me,” he praises. He’s close and by the sounds of it, so is she. “Tell me what you’re thinking about,” he says in a low voice.

“Your big cock filling me up.”

“What position?”

“Cowgirl. I’m bouncing on it until you come inside, like how we did it on the couch. It was dripping down my thighs, remember?” Her voice is hoarse with lust, gradually unraveling on the other end of the line.

“How could I forget?” he smiles to himself, vividly recalling the erotic memory. “And what did I do after?”

She lets out a loud moan before answering, “You put it back in me and fucked me again.”

“That’s right, baby. I know how much you like that.” He strokes his dick in a frenzy, ears hot and eyes shut tight as he approaches his climax.

“Come with me, Kento. Come with me.”

At her command, his abs clench as he releases all over himself, painting the bottom of his button up shirt with his seed. He really should have taken this off beforehand, but as usual, they get too caught up in the moment to think logically.

“Did you come?” Her voice is quiet, her breathing shallow just like it gets whenever she orgasms.

“Yes, I did. All over my shirt,” he admits, laughing softly.

“Oh no! Baby!”

“It’s okay. I have another one. How about you? Did you come?”

“Yes, I did,” she replies. He smirks, picturing her laid out on the couch, panties around her ankles, that blissful gaze in her eyes. That’s my girl, he muses.

“You should clean yourself up before Gojo gets back,” she suggests.

Gojo. Shit.

Nanami turns his wrist to read his watch; it’s been at least forty-five minutes since his friend left for his thirty-minute walk. In a panic, he checks his messages and finds three from Gojo that he somehow missed:

NANAMINNNNN coming back from my walk now

never mind, extending my walk another 30

you dirty bastard

~~~

The next day, you and Nanami reunite for your trip. It’s a two-hour train ride to Hakone. You rest your head on Nanami’s shoulder, hands laced together, basking in each other’s existence. A few days away makes you realize how happy you are being with him. As if you had any doubts.

When the train approaches the station, Nanami lightly taps on your thigh to get your attention. He points out the window. “Look, sweetie.” It’s a gorgeous view of Mt. Fuji in the distance. The hotel you’re staying at is only a ten-minute walk from the station, meaning this is the scenery you’ll have all weekend. You can’t imagine anything more romantic and peaceful than this.

The hotel is as quaint as you pictured it. You check into the room and settle in before getting ready for the hot springs. Two hours away from each other is a cinch, especially in paradise. You both enjoy your separate onsen experiences, rejuvenated and relaxed for the night to come.

After a delightful dinner at the hotel restaurant, it’s time to retreat into your room. On the elevator ride up, Nanami pushes you up against the wall and kisses you, unable to contain himself any longer. You fumble on the way to the room, exchanging delicate kisses until you’re inside. He removes his coat, then yours, before wrapping his arms around you in a big bear hug. “I’ve been waiting all week for this,” he says softly.

You both change into proper hot tub attire: Nanami in swim trunks, you in a two-piece bathing suit. He leads you to the balcony, holding your hand to help you into the spa. The sexual tension is palpable. As you sit beside each other in the water, your muscles relax in the heat. You let your head fall back on the edge of the tub as you sigh, feeling at ease, staying like this for a few minutes. Even with your eyes closed, you can sense Nanami’s gaze on you. Cracking one eye open, you smirk. “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?”

His hand slides up your thigh. “I can’t help it when you look like this.”

You face him, smiling. “And what do I look like?”

“Happy. Tranquil.” He pauses, leaning in closer to whisper, “You’re beautiful.”

There’s a flutter in your stomach, a sensation you’ll never get tired of. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Your lips brush together seamlessly, his breath warm on your mouth. With your hands on his chest, you feel the steady thump of his heartbeat pick up in pace as you continue to kiss passionately. Your skin prickles with goosebumps despite the surrounding heat. Something about the way Nanami kisses you always makes you tingly.

Straddling his lap now, you kiss his neck while you roll your hips on him, using his shoulders to hold on to. He lets out a guttural moan, making you ride him slower, touching every inch of him as you possible can until he’s undeniably hard beneath you. You want him. You need him.

Water splashes over the edge of the tub, the waves rippling with each movement. The steam from the hot water is dewy on your skin. He caresses your head, fingers gripped to the back of your head, gently pulling you off so he can meet your lips with his before trailing along your neck, sucking on your skin, claiming you as his. His other hand cups your ass, moving with the rhythm in which you ride him.

“You’re so good to me, Kento. Always so good to me,” you whimper.

He whispers in your ear, “I want you. I want you around my cock.” His squeezes your ass tighter, his self-control wavering. “Let’s go.”

You hop off and get out first. The contrast of the cold night air on your sweltering skin makes you shiver. When you watch him emerge out of the water with a very distinct bulge in his swimming trunks, you shudder even more.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” he teases, grabbing your wrist and leading you back inside. His grip is strong, his pace quick. Seeing him unravel like this is arousing. Knowing how much he desires you in this moment makes you quiver for him.

He takes you into the bathroom, where he starts the shower, knob turned all the way to hot. He releases his hold on you to remove his swimming trunks, his hard dick flopping against his abdomen. The sight resonates straight to your arousal. In complete surrender, you bend over the sink counter begging, “Kento, please. I can’t wait anymore. I need you right now.”

He leans over you, his lips tickling your ear as he chuckles. “Be a good girl and get in the shower. Be patient, sweetheart.” His erection rubs against you, his lips grazing your nape seductively. He roams your back to remove your top, then down your ass, where he slides your bikini bottoms off at an agonizing speed.

Pouting, you do as he says, slapping your ass as you step over the bathtub. He follows you in, pawing at your waist to pull you close. With a bar of soap, you stand underneath the hot shower, scrubbing the chlorine off your skin as Nanami watches you from behind. Soap suds travel from your neck down to your breasts. From the your peripheral, you see him lick his lips, salivating. When you’re ready to rinse off, you turn to face him, reaching between your legs, tapping your clit.

“Can’t wait to taste you,” he says in a low voice, the look in his eyes carnal with desire. God, you want him. You want him so bad it hurts, pussy aching to be filled.

Letting the water rinse your body, you offer him the bar of soap. He shakes his head. “You do it.” This is the other side of him. Nanami is usually sweet and gentle with you. Never does he demand you to do anything or boss you around. But when he’s like this, you can’t help but heed his every command. Only you get to see him like this. You scrub the soap on his skin, sliding your hands all over his body. You pull him closer to you, letting the water wash away the bubbles. When you reach down to his still erect cock, he snatches your hand away and growls, “Not yet. I want to fuck you on the bed.”

Once rinsed off, he gives you a small kiss on the forehead before stepping out, leaving you alone in the shower. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he gives you one last smirk before exiting the bathroom. What is he up to?

A small groan escapes your mouth, your patience wearing thin. This is the longest foreplay you two have managed to last through. How much longer is he going to keep you waiting? How has he managed to stay this hard for this long without giving in? The anticipation puts you on edge.

When you’re done, you wrap a robe loosely around yourself, returning to the bedroom to see Nanami sitting up on the bed, naked on top of the covers, watching you. He points to a small, black gift bag propped up at the foot of the bed. “Open it.”

Inside is a black slip dress and a matching lace thong. You swallow hard as you glide the thin material between your fingers, nervous and aroused at what’s about to come. “Put it on. Model it for me.” He leans back on the headboard, palms behind his head, cock stiff against his stomach. There’s a smug expression on his face; you can tell he’s enjoying this.

You shrug the robe off and wear the dress first. Your nipples poke through the fabric. Nanami bites his lower lip and leans forward to get a better look. “Now put the thong on. Slowly.”

At his direction, you slip on the lingerie slowly. When it’s past your knees, he says, “Turn around and let me see.” With your back towards him, you stick your ass out and lift the hem of the dress to slide the thong between your cheeks.

You hear him moan quietly. “Perfect. You’re perfect. Come here, sweetheart.”

~~~

She crawls next to him, where they begin kissing, all sloppy and wet. Her hand reaches down to stroke his shaft. He cradles her bottom, fingers feeling for the lacey fabric buried between her ass cheeks.

“Get on your back,” he orders, hovering above her, marveling at how insanely gorgeous she is. The satin dress accentuates every bodacious curve of her body. He makes a mental note to buy more of these for her in the future.

He slides his hand beneath the dress to rub his fingers on the wet spot of her lacey lingerie. “So wet for me already,” he purrs, slipping past the fabric. “Always so wet for me.”

“Please,” she pleads. He loves it when she begs. Absolutely loves it. It awakens something in him. The usually calm Kento Nanami becomes unhinged whenever he touches her. But when she begs for it, he wants nothing more than to make her feel amazing, to be the reason she squirms in pleasure beneath him.

He slides his middle finger along her folds, gathering as much slick as he can before he starts caressing her puffy clit. She whines under his touch, the sensation too much. She’s been waiting for this all night. Been begging for it. This is her reward for her patience. She grabs the nearest pillow to cover her mouth, but as soon as she does, Nanami pulls it off and tosses it behind him.

“No,” he demands. “I want everyone to hear how good you’re getting it right now.”

He shimmies down the bed, spreading her thighs apart. With his head between her legs, he leans forward, teasing her clit with a flick of his tongue, holding her panties to the side. She grabs hold of his hair as he presses soft kisses to her clit. Suddenly, he flattens his tongue on her bud and moves it side to side, surrounding every centimeter of that pretty clit with his mouth. Lewd sounds fill the room, from her loud, shameless moaning to the wet noises he makes as he eats her out. He adjusts his position to stroke himself as he continues to devour her.

She’s like honey on his tongue, luscious and decadent. He cherishes every time he gets to do this to her. Usually, she is too shy to let him eat her out. She deprives him of this treat. He’s starved for it. With her like this, spread out like a fucking feast in front of him, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take full advantage of this moment. He latches his lips around her, sucking on it as he lets go of his cock to slide his middle and ring finger into her pussy. He watches her chest fall and rise with shallow breaths with his fingers pumping in and out of her, thumb rubbing circles around her clit. She cries out his name. “Kento!”

“Fuck. You have no idea how good you look right now, swallowing up my fingers like this.” He bucks his hips against the bed, desperate for any type of friction. All he hears from her is a litany of swears and his name. Her moans eventually turn into whimpers. He stops massaging her clit and eats her out again, this time sloppier and more erratic as he continues to work his fingers inside her. The sheets are damp with his saliva and her cum. He’s not sure how many times she orgasms; based on the evidence before him, he guesses it’s at least twice. She’s too busy taking it like a slut to even verbalize when she’s coming.

When he’s close to his limit, he places one last tender kiss on her clit before releasing her lacey thong; he’s been holding them to the side this entire time. His fingers slip out of her, shiny with her orgasm. The temptation to suck her sweet nectar from his fingers is too good to resist. As he kneels next to her, he leans down to put his face close to hers. Her eyes widen with anticipation, waiting for his next move. With a dark look in his eyes, he licks his glossy fingers, dragging his tongue up and down, savoring it like it’s the most decadent treat. She whines, staring at him, grinding her hips up, desperate to be fucked. He never gets tired of seeing her like this.

Fully aware of how her slick glistens on his lips and chin, he murmurs, “Taste yourself. I want you know how good you are.”

There’s a dazed expression in her eyes as she obeys, sitting up to kiss him sloppily, tongue lapping into his open mouth then down to his chin. It drives him crazy. Before he comes right then and there, he shoves his hand between her legs and tugs her panties off, admiring how soaked they are, all for him. Because of him.

Under the pillow is the bottle of lube he hid right after he got out of the shower. He pops off the cap and pours a liberal amount into his palms, coating his shaft. He strokes his cock vigorously, asking, “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Kento. Please. Please. I need you inside me.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He kneels in front of her, aligning the tip of his dick with her slit, entering her slowly, careful not to be too forceful. She’s always so tight, even when she’s dripping wet for him. “Such a good girl,” he whispers, leaning over her to kiss her forehead.

Halfway in, her body adjusts to his size, allowing him to thrust into her in fluid motions. She wraps her legs around him, babbling. “Kento, fuck. Fuck.”

“So wet for me. You’re perfect around my cock.” Once he’s fully inside her, he kisses her with open lips, tongue licking up her saliva as she moans into his mouth. He pins her wrists above her head, thrusting his hips against her. They make love like this for a while, Nanami relishing the way her body melts around him. He knows what she wants, but he takes his time teasing her like this until she groans out, “Fuck me harder. Please.”

As if on cue, he pulls out of her and taps his fingers at her hips. At his command, she flips over onto her stomach and gets on all fours, pushing her ass out. The hem of her satin dress rides up over the curve of her hips. The sight in front of him is immaculate. He wants this ingrained in his memory forever. “Think you can take it, sweetheart? I’m not gonna go easy on you.”

“Yes, baby. Fuck me hard. Please. I can take it.”

“Good girl,” he coos, placing a soft kiss on her back. Whatever she wants, he’ll give it to her, especially when she begs like this. He puts both of his hands on each of her ass cheeks and spreads them apart, watching his glistening cock slowly slide into her pussy.

“God, I wish you could see what I see right now. It’s exquisite. You look fucking incredible like this. My sweet girl.” Once he’s all the way in, he grabs hold of her hips and fucks her. Hard. Exactly how she likes it.

“Fuck, feels so fucking good!” she cries out. Her knuckles are tight as she clenches the sheets. He spanks her as he fucks her, causing her to groan into the pillow with her back arched. The sound of his pelvis slapping against her ass with each rapid thrust is filthy.

“I needed this, baby. It’s been such a long week,” he grunts. “God, you take it so well. Such a slut for me, huh? Say it.”

“I’m a slut for you, Kento. Feels amazing when you fuck me like this.”

Grip still firm on her hips, he continues to drive his cock into her, reveling in the way she swallows him up. She turns her head to the side, that dazed look on her face. Her lips are parted as she continues to moan incoherently, drool leaking down the sides of her wet mouth. When she makes eye contact with him, her lips curl into a small smile. “Right there, Kento. Make me come.”

Growling, he hits her sweet spot until she comes all over his cock. She tightens around him. his dick creamy with more of her cum with each thrust. It’s obscene; he can’t hold it in anymore.

“Ride me,” he demands, pulling out abruptly. He rolls onto his back, watching her climb on top of him. She guides his dick inside her, exhaling deeply as she sinks lower onto his shaft. It goes in easily, her pussy sleek from her multiple orgasms, his own precum, and the lube from earlier. When he bottoms out, she leans over him, kissing him passionately as she thrusts her ass back and forth onto his cock.

“Just like that. Fuck,” he moans. This is his absolute favorite position. He loves it when she rides him like this. Always so eager and greedy for his cum whenever she’s on top. It makes him feel like a fucking god. He cranes his neck to the side, tugging on the hem of her dress to watch her bounce on his lap. “I fucking love this. You know how much I love this, you fucking nasty slut.”

“I’m such a nasty slut for you, baby. Only for you. Fuck,” she moans into his ear, riding him faster.

He’s close. How he’s managed to last this long without coming, he’ll never know. Maybe his stamina has improved after all the sex they’ve been having recently. Or maybe it’s the thought of coming in her like this that kept him under control. Whatever it is, he decides he’s been patient long enough.

“Let me take over,” he whispers to her.

Her body relaxes. Now, he’s in control. He plants his feet onto the bed and thrusts into her at a rapid pace, holding onto her waist to move her in perfect rhythm with his hips.

“Come inside me, Kento. Fill me up,” she mewls into his ear.

At her words, he releases inside her, shutting his eyes tight as he rides out the rest of his orgasm. When he’s finished, he pulls out and she collapses beside him. The dress is defiled with the aftermath of their lovemaking, just as he fantasized about.

~~~

You put your arm over his chest and lay your head against his shoulder. “Wow,” is all you can muster, voice shaky. Nanami just rocked your fucking world, and you can’t find better words to describe it.

He chuckles, his eyes still closed. “Yeah. Wow.” He takes your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist. “I’m sorry for calling you a slut.”

You giggle. He always does this. “You don’t have to keep apologizing for that! You know I like it.”

“I usually don’t use degrading language like that. I just want to make sure it’s still okay with you.” You can’t contain your smile. He’s too cute for his own good.

“By the way, how long have you been planning this?” you ask.

He finally opens his eyes and faces you. “All week. Saw the dress on display at a mall in Osaka. I knew it would look magnificent on you. It’s even better than what I imagined.”

“You sneaky devil!”

“I’m only this way because of you. You really unleash the devil in me.” He grins, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“I guess I’m the lucky angel then, huh?”

“You are,” he says, peppering kisses on your face. “My sweet angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

After a few more minutes of post-coital cuddling, the two of you wash up again and get ready for a well-deserved sleep. You snuggle each other in pure bliss, looking forward to more vacations with the man you love.

Tag List: @chiyoso @bloombb @liliorsstuff-blog

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ataraxiaspainting · 27 days

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Dreams Come True.

Yan Giorno x F Reader.

Synopsis: Giorno likes to hold you close sometimes in his dreams… and in his dreams alone, because the real you doesn’t let him. It’s fine though, he tells himself.

Warnings: Yandere themes, manipulation, and kidnapping.

Word Count: 1.5k.

*~*~*~*

There is a small door hidden behind Giorno’s vanity.

He does not reside in the master bedroom anymore–as he willingly chose to accommodate you with the privileges he no longer possesses. You’d make better use of it than he ever did, he thought. The once bare walls now have bookshelves all around, antiques sitting prettily up high on unreachable shelves, and there are soft piano sounds coming from the radio he gave you. Though if you ever wanted to learn piano yourself he would gladly hire a tutor for you, albeit one who has sworn a blood oath and has been a trusted staff member of his for years.

Giorno’s new bedroom is as empty as the last, with only writing utensils and piles upon piles of paper stacked on his sole desk, the trash can underneath be full of torn letters Giorno will have someone burn later. He has only dared to send you perhaps two letters, both of which were instantly sent back to whence they came. One of the letters was sent when you had first arrived here, being placed underneath the tiny slit between the floor and the door. It was past dinner time then, and since the guards stationed outside your quarters had heard no movement from inside your room, they had told the nearest butler that you were most likely asleep and would not be reading the letter until the morning.

Giorno had some second thoughts once he had heard the news, and nearly instantly wanted the letter to be rewritten, seeing it as an opportunity to fix mistakes visible to only him. That very butler opened the door with his assigned key and then saw you huddled in the corner covered by a blanket. The butler had asked if you had seen the letter on the floor, and you said you did not want to read it.

Very well, Miss [First].

The butler locked the door when he was done with his task, escorting the letter gently in his gloved palms like it was an esteemed guest.

Giorno tore the paper to shreds, throwing it into the trash can like the many others that had come before it. Dozens of them all written within a week, even though you hadn’t been here for nearly a day. Some are more eloquent than others. Some are just mere scribbles, signs of Giorno’s frustration at himself. If he could, he would have torn himself to shreds too. However, something in the back of his mind said that that was the coward’s way out, and if he were not here who else would be able to protect you?

No one. You’ll be all alone. A baby bird waiting for its mother to come back with worms. You’d chirp and chirp, desperate, but no one would help you. He can hear it now.

The second letter was sent just now, with the very same butler holding it gently in his hands. Giorno can hear the small heels of his shoes as he walks down the hall to the master bedroom. He looks at the vanity, choosing to ignore all of the clutter on it and instead pushing it toward the far right corner of the room. There the door was. It was dustier than when Giorno had seen it last, but he did not mind it in the slightest.

The key to it was inside a copy of one of your favorite books. Chapter VIII, page 93. This part had one of your favorite quotes. Giorno knows it all too well, he spent day and night reading this novel again and again after all.

“Oh yes,” said the other mother. “I put her in there myself. And when I found her trying to crawl out, I put her back.”

A rather grim quote you chose, but Giorno does not judge your interests.

The key is colder than the one used to open the door to your bedroom. It’s heavier and darker too. But it goes into the lock just as smoothly with a thunk.

The hallway beyond is dark. There is dust floating in the air, and a stinky, musty smell.

Tucking his feet beneath him as he crawls, Giorno closes the door behind him. He doesn’t lock it, however. No one has ever seen where this corridor leads, and Giorno would rather die than have someone destroy his paradise.

Perhaps one day it will be yours too.

“I don’t want it.”

“Miss [First], while I do understand this situation has been less than acceptable for you, you must at least try to understand that the master has been attempting to be accommodating for you.” Giorno hears the butler say.

“I agree with Franz.” The head maid adds.

“I don’t care what you think,” You reply. Giorno can practically hear you gripping the skirt of your dress. “I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care. All of you can just go to hell.”

When Giorno places his right ear on the other side of the tiny corridor, he hears a slight squeak. It seems your vanity was not placed correctly, something he will have a servant remedy soon. Its purpose is supposed to be the same as Giorno’s; to keep this sacred place hidden from you until it is time.

“That isn’t very kind. If you really cannot read this letter at the moment, it shall be placed on your writing desk, and you will read it by tomorrow night. Is this a fair arrangement?”

“Just what part of that is fair?”

Someone sighed then. Giorno is unsure as to who made the sound. The butler and you? You and the head maid? There are infinite possibilities for that very question. It lingers at the back of his mind, yearning to be scratched.

He hears your door close, and that is the very signal he needs. He crawls back through the tunnel to his bedroom and locks the entrance with the very same key. The key retreats to page 93 once again. Giorno then places it on the highest shelf. His mission is accomplished.

“Did you hear everything, Master?” The butler asks through Giorno’s bedroom door. “I can catch you up on details if that is not the case if that is alright with you.”

“Yes, I did. Grazie.”

He hears the butler’s shoes clacking as he leaves this part of the mansion.

He, in turn, sighs.

“Master,” A high-pitched voice calls, accompanied by a soft knock. “I brought you your dinner.”

Giorno does not respond. Instead, he sits on the chair beside his writing desk. His eyes meet the ceiling. There are images of clouds, rainbows, and most importantly cherubs, their bright red cheeks and happy smiles stirring something from within him.

He wants what they have. Pure joy.

But because of that, Giorno considers hiring someone to repaint the ceiling.

“Master?”

Giorno closes his eyes, not wanting to see the bleak reality anymore.

“Master?” A male voice asks, knocking on the door louder than the woman. “Master? Are you alright? Clervie brought you your supper. It is your favorite. Spaghetti al nero di seppia.”

Giorno lets his imagination run free within the depths of his mind. He sees you kissing his cheek, and him kissing yours. He sees you two huddling by the fireplace during the winter months with hot cups of tea. He sees you looking outside the dining room’s largest window to see the stars and moon. He sees himself watching you, not willing to break the peaceful image.

He is truly unworthy of you, that much is true. But if he is unworthy of you, everyone else is just more unworthy than he is.

“Master? Are you alright? Do you want Clervie to come back later?”

Giorno speaks up, slouching forward in his seat. “I’m sorry, but I am just not hungry at the moment.”

The butler hums. “Alright… then have a good night, Master.”

“You too, Franz.” He answers. “And… you too, Clervie.”

When they leave, Giorno relaxes once more in his chair. Little by little, the surrounding sounds vanish. They are replaced with auras fading from black to blue to pink and then to teal. He starts snoring a few moments later. Absolute bliss for someone who has been stressed out for weeks on end.

“...[First]...”

The last thing he sensed from the real world was the candle on his desk, smelling like a warm day on the beach.

It isn’t an easy time going back into consciousness. Those same auras Giorno saw with his eyes closed are still there when he arises from his slumber. Black. Blue. Pink. Teal. If it had been a pleasant dream, perhaps Giorno would have even found it beautiful.

He rubs his eyes. “Ugh…”

The first thing he recognizes in his vision is the pictures of you on the vanity, still out of place from hours before. He remembers nothing of his dream, as always. That is, aside from one thing. Your voice, for once soft and focused on him.

I love you.

“Hm…” He grumbles.

“Master?” The second thing he recognizes is Franz’s signature knock. “It’s urgent. [First] has–”

With the sound of your name, Giorno rises quicker than someone coming back from the dead.

#yandere #yandere x reader #author aya #yandere giorno giovanna #yandere giorno #yandere giorno x reader #yandere giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #jjba x reader #yandere jjba #yandere jjba x reader

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diqnbaus · 1 year

Text

Let You Break My Heart Again (Part 2)

Paring: Miles Morales x fem!reader

Summary: Your attempts to avoid Miles have worked. Until it’s time for his dad’s promotion party. That’s it lowkey. The next part will have more I promise. This is also at the beginning of ATSV so you’ve been warned.

Category: Not sad but not happy??

A/n: im soryr im so tired and I wasn’t even planning on writing another part but I felt badly. Also ik think chapter isnt as good as the first but I’ve rewritten in three thousand times and have two drafts. This is the one I like more.

No matter how upset you were, no matter hard you tried to ignore Miles; there was no getting out of this. You had to go to Miles’ dad’s promotion party. Worst case scenario, you saw Miles and he tried to talk to you again. Best case scenario, you don’t see him and get free pizza from the party.

Either way, you were going. After all, you were mad at Miles. Not his dad.

So that was how you found yourself here, on the roof that was filled with people you didn’t know, trying to fit as much free food onto your plate while simultaneously trying to avoid eye contact with anyone who might start a conversation.

Unfortunately, you were unsuccessful in your attempts. Mrs. Morales soon approached you, just as you were stuffing your face with one of the cookies from your plate.

“I know the cookies are good, but please don’t choke,” Mrs. Morales says, smiling softly.

“Mhsis Mowawwes,” you swallow the cookie before trying again. “Mrs. Morales! This party is wonderful, and so are the cookies, obviously.”

“Thank you, I bought them myself,” she chuckles. “Have you seen Miles anywhere? He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago. He has the cake.”

“The cake? That’s the most important part of a party. No I haven’t seen him, sorry.”

She sighs, “that’s okay. That boy is always late to everything. I need to start telling him to get there twenty minutes before they actually start, then maybe he’d be on time.”

“Maybe you’ll only have to tell him to get there,” you check your watch, “thirteen minutes before it starts. He’s walking in right now.”

“Ugh, y/n you’re a lifesaver! I’m going to talk some sense into that boy,” she says while heading in his direction.

“Yep,” you mumble to yourself before eating another cookie and finding a quieter corner that you could sit in.

Your peacefulness didn’t last long, as after the fight Miles had with his parents, they went to find you.

“Y/n! Just the person we needed!” Mr. Davis said as they approached you.

“We were wondering if you would go talk to Miles. I’m sure you heard what happened earlier,” Mrs. Morales said.

“It was kind of hard not to,” Mr. Davis mumbled.

Ignoring her husband, she continued, “We really think something is bothering him, and he won’t talk to us. So maybe he would talk to you?”

“Oh I don’t really know, he didn’t really seem in the mood to talk to anyone,” you reply awkwardly, trying to get out of the conversation. The aforementioned worst case scenario was upon you.

“Please? It would double as my promotion present; as you didn’t get me one,” Mr. David said, confrontationally.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to get you one,” you replied, panicked.

“I’ll only forgive you if you go talk to Miles,” he says sweetly before his wife turns him around and harshly whispers to him. Something about “manipulating” and “poor girl,” while you just sat there confused.

Finally when they turned back toward you, you told them you would do it.

“Thank you so much y/n,” Mrs. Morales says while ushering you towards the exit of the roof.

“Yes, thank you. The door should be unlocked. But if it isn’t, there’s a spare key under the mat,” Mr. Davis says as you reach the exit.

“That’s not very safe,” you reply, a little unnerved. You have to talk to Miles about that later. Maybe. If you felt like it.

“Oh please! I’m not the police chief yet, I can still be a little crazy now and then. Plus I change up the spot every other year, so we should be fine,” he says, ushering you out the door.

“Thanks again!” They say in unison, just before the door closes. You sigh before making your way down the many stairs, to the apartment.

Sure enough, the door is unlocked. But just to make sure he wasn’t joking, you checked under the mat and found the key. Huffing, you stand back up and make your way into the apartment towards Miles’ room.

“Miles! We need to talk about a few things. Starting with your dad’s key placement…” you trail off after opening the door to Miles’ room to see him and Gwen looking at his shelf full of his ‘action figures.’ This was the worser case scenario. Worster? Worsest? It doesn’t matter. This was bad.

#across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #spiderman #sorry

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wiz-writes · 5 months

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Demo Update: 11 January 2024

Continue your journey in the first part of chapter two.

The prologue has been rewritten to reflect some changes in the story, so I highly recommend to at least read through the first five pages (otherwise you might be a bit confused when you start chapter two!).

Also as requested, I have added the MC height option to the beginning of chapter zero. Don't worry though, if you do not wish to replay the game yet again, the option should appear in chapter two as well.

Features:

18k words of new content

rewritten prologue

encounter a mysterious figure

survive the audience with the king

reminisce about the past

meet Cerin and [redacted]

Play it HERE | COG Forum | KO-FI

#aesemyr: the withering #demo update #interactive fiction #interactive novel #if wip #if update #cog wip #choicescript

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hellishattempt · 6 months

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𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 - false positive

cr 101strk on twitter, src from pin

🢥 summary : celebrity!au jjk men and rumours swirling around your established relationship, wc 2.4k 🢥 series includes : choso, fushiguro toji, geto suguru, gojo satoru and nanami kento, part two of five 🢥 content : celebrity!au, female reader, mostly angst, some fluff, married, body dysphoria, pregnancy, photoshopping / body editing, miscarriage, sickness, blood, fake newspaper used, paps being an ass, lying, use of pet names, suggestive content if you squint so hard your eyes are almost closed, i hate winter so this is set in like summer, jasper simping for nanami the entire time, the ending is what it is, not proofread we die like robins /ref

. . . BEING MARRIED TO AN AUTHOR has its perks, especially when you're a reader yourself. you always got to read the first drafts, and the second, and the final drafts before anyone else, including your husband's editors. nanami claimed that if it wasn't good enough for his wife, then it wasn't good enough to be published. you always thought that was a bit extreme, but you loved his writings either way. however, sometimes it was hard to find the time to read the latest chapter he sent you, because your job drained you. you were an influencer, and had currently signed a promotional deal with koh gen do, a popular japanese makeup brand. recently, you were barely home, busy with photoshoots and videos for koh gen do, on top of the content you had to make yourself.

neither of you really liked the limelight, nanami especially. you were young and naive when you joined social media, rising quickly to popularity. it was something you enjoyed, and you still do enjoy it, but it felt more like a tiring obligation than an aspiring career. you blame the paparazzi, nanami blames societal expectations, although he's not the paparazzi's biggest fan either. throughout your dating, and going on six year marriage, you and nanami have had your fair share of scandals. this one had to take the cake, however.

you were out, doing one of the last rounds of photoshoots for your endorsement deal. nanami was home, trying to churn out the latest chapter on his to-do list. he wasn't very successful. the mostly blank document had two words on it: CHAPTER THIRTY in the fancy font you had selected to be chapter headers. any attempt to write after that failed. every paragraph had been written, rewritten and deleted. so the buzz of his phone was a welcomed distraction.

it was an article post from red sun times, a relatively newer newspaper company in japan. nanami preferred them because they were quieter, at least compared to japan newsline or tokyoto sistership news. but the article title cause a deep frown to wrinkle nanami's sculpted face.

. . . "IS NANAMI KENTO'S WIFE PREGNANT?" was in big bold print on your phone screen. you didn't see it right away, but your makeup artist did. she got your hairstylist's attention, who read it just before your phone shut off. they both began to pepper you with compliments.

"congratulations, nanami okaa-san!" aki, your makeup artist beamed. your eyes widened at the term. 'okaa-san' literally translated to 'mother' of which, you were not. she should've used 'oka-san', which meant wife literally, and ma'am respectfully. "you look so skinny, i couldn't even tell!"

"yes, congratulations! how did nanami-san respond?" your hairstylist added, smile wide on his face. "better yet, how did your families react? oh, i bet they were overjoyed."

you sat there confused, racking your brain over what the two were referring to. "wh-what? what are you talking about?"

they stared at you with blank faces, their excitement slowly fading into a confused expression that matched yours.

"y-your pregnancy," aki stuttered out, as though it was obvious.

"pregnancy? i'm... i'm not pregnant," you stated, getting out of your chair. "who told you i was pregnant?"

"we just saw the news flash on your phone," your hairstylist defended, gesturing to your phone. "there was an article from red sun times and the title read: is nanami kento's wife pregnant?"

"i'm not pregnant," you repeated, growing in frustration. the fucking nerve. "do i look pregnant?" you snapped, causing the pair to furiously shake their heads and protest the article. you scoffed, grabbing your phone and your bag, storming out of the dressing room. the directory of photography called after you as you exited the studio, but you paid no attention to him.

safe inside your car, you opened the article. you also had a slew of texts and missed calls from your husband, but you didn't have the patience for him right now. the article was crudely written, at best. red sun times had been losing subscribers and readers lately, and this seemed like a last ditch effort to get their subscriptions up again. it didn't make sense to you, however. neither you nor nanami were a-lister names in the celebrity world. nanami didn't even consider himself a celebrity. sure, you both had a hefty fan base, but it was nothing compared to some of the other celebrities of japan, like the model gojo satoru or the mma fighter fushiguro toji.

it didn't matter, anyways. it wasn't the words of the article that hurt. it was the pictures. all them were of you with nanami on your latest outing. your anniversary was coming up, and nanami always got really sweet around that time, taking you out on dates on the days leading up to your anniversary. your anniversary was in three days, and a couple of days ago, nanami had taken you to a strawberry farm where you each filled a bucket's worth of strawberries, that were then all eaten on the picnic following the farm. the picnic spot was the riverside where he had proposed about seven years ago. you had an amazing time, and fell a little bit more in love with your caring husband. his sensible attention to detail, his doting words, his thoughtful actions, all of it made the date, and your relationship, perfect. now this article and its malicious pictures tainted that saccharine memory.

. . . THE IMAGES HAD CLEARLY BEEN EDITED. that's what your logical brain was trying to scream at you, but your emotions weren't listening. a small bump had been added to your stomach in each photo, your hips had been wider, and in a couple, your breasts had even been adjusted, as though they were full with milk. you felt sick. it was so hard to tell the difference between what was edited and what wasn't. did you really look like that? did red sun times even have to adjust these photos? "you look so skinny, i couldn't even tell!" the words of your makeup artist bounced around your pounding head. if you were so skinny, why did she still assume you were pregnant?

you had tried so hard that day to look pretty for your husband, wearing his favorite yellow sundress of yours, with the sweetheart neckline and puffy sleeves. nanami always said he preferred your natural look, but you had still glossed your lips, tinted your cheeks a faint pink and dusted your nose with highlighter. you had tied your hair up with a soft yellow ribbon, curling the loose strands. you had checked your reflection at least fifteen times before deeming yourself fit for the day. you had looked good in the mirror, so why didn't you look like that in these photos?

tears threatened at your eyes, but you swallowed them with the lump in your throat. you were almost home now, and you were sure that nanami had seen the article. he loved the red sun times because they didn't do stupid stuff like this. guess they just lost another reader.

"darling?" nanami's voice rang out as you entered your home. he walked into your vision, looking worried. you hadn't answered your phone at all, hadn't even read any of his texts. "oh, koibito..." his voice softened as you raised your head to meet his gaze.

you look so despondent with your watery eyes, and sullen posture. you hadn't even removed your shoes before he had scooped you into his arms and you were sobbing into his shoulder. you don't know how long you stood there in the foyer of your home, everything silent except for your choked breathing. there was a dark blemish on his wool sweater now, but nanami waved it off when you tried to apologize.

he guided you to the living room, helping you sit on the grey sofa that you had bought together six years ago. nanami worked wordlessly as he removed your shoes and coat; he took your phone and bag, placing them on the stand by the front door. a high pitched whistle echoed from the kitchen, and moments later he returned with a cup of steaming sencha, your favorite kind of tea. you felt so pathetic, sitting there sniffling while your husband tended to you.

when he returned for the final time, nanami had changed into a black t-shirt, and sat on the leather ottoman opposite from you. his elbows rested on his knees as nanami watched you sip the tea he had made you. he didn't speak, but only because he couldn't find the right words.

nanami prided himself on his syntax and vocabulary. he was the type of person who always said the right thing at the right time, it's why being an author was the only career option he cared for. but here, you sat in a stifled silence. he knew he should say something, but what? what were you were supposed to say in a situation like this? you were clearly distressed, and it was nanami's role as your husband to offer you words of encouragement, but his tongue was dry.

if nanami was honest, he almost wanted there to be some truth to the article. you hadn't exactly been trying for kids, but you hadn't not been trying. kids was something you both knew you wanted, but you hadn't discussed it in further detail. reading further into the article and viewing the photos made it clear that it wasn't true, at all. nanami knew almost immediately that when you saw this, you were going to breakdown, and he would be there to pick you up. so he ordered your favorite ramen, made your favorite tea and held you in his arms until you had calmed down.

nanami knew that you would believe the edits, that you would see yourself like that. despite how much he praised your body, you hated it, and he hated that. anytime you made some side comment about your stomach or thighs, it almost started a fight. he loathed the way you saw yourself, and nothing he argued stuck with you.

in the last few months, however, nanami was starting to see some progress. you stared less in the mirror with your meticulous eyes, pinching flaps of your skin between your fingers. you began to buy less healthier foods, and stopped mentioning the stupid diet you had placed yourself on. you wore clothes that you specifically avoided unless you had nothing else to wear, because of the way they displayed your figure. he knew that this article had erased all of that progress.

"i'm sorry, nani" you croaked, curling your knees into your chest.

"shh, no, koibito," nanami disregarded your apology. "you don't ever have to apologize about your emotions, especially not to me." he moved from the ottoman to take the spot next to you, pulling your small frame into his. one hand held yours while the other stroked your hair amorously. "the article was cruel, and any person with a heart would be reacting the same as you. don't worry, i've already called their editor and he said he doesn't know why the piece was published when it wasn't supposed to. it's being removed as we speak."

your heart welled at his words. he was so patient and understanding. moments like these made you love nanami more. and it gave you the confidence to tell him the truth.

"kento," you began, pulling away from him slowly. you used his given name over your nickname, nani, for him. you only used it during fights or confessions. he immediately perked up. "i..." you sighed. words were always nanami's thing, not yours. "i'm not upset about the photos."

"oh?"

"okay, well, i am, but for a different reason than you think."

"and what reason is that, koibito?" his tone was emotionless, as if he hadn't decided how to respond yet.

"i know you think it's because i'm always stressing about my body and the way it looks, and you're worried because i haven't been fretting over how i look as much, right? well, that's because i was pregnant, and i decided i couldn't care about that when i had bigger concerns, like the tiny life in my stomach." it became harder to speak, your sentences broken by tears and sobs.

"...was?" nanami's voice cracked, and his misty eyes matched yours.

you nodded, "was. i... i had a miscarriage."

"w-when?"

"about a week ago. i was about a month and a half along."

"you mean that time you canceled girl's night because you were sick? you told me that it was just your period, and you sent me out to get you stuff from the store." nanami's brows furrowed.

"yeah, that's.. that's right." you took a breath to steady yourself. "there was just blood everywhere, and i was a wreck and i didn't have the courage to tell you. i know how badly you want kids of our own, and i just didn't want to hurt you."

"hurt me? baby, you were the one hurting, and i just played it off like it was normal. i feel terrible."

"you couldn't have known," you reassured him. "but that article, and those photos, it just tore me apart all over again. that's how i should look, that's how i want to look, but i lost that part of me, that part of us."

nanami didn't respond at first, just reached back out for you. you both sat there, quiet sniffles and crying the only sound in your home. he continued to comfort you, even though you felt like you should be offering him comfort. after all, nanami is learning that you were pregnant and now no longer pregnant all at once.

"koibito," he murmured after a while. "i want you to know that i love you no matter what. i don't care how you look or how you don't look. you're my wife, and i didn't marry you because of your body and figure. i married you because i fell in love with your laugh, your smile, your unpredictable personality, and all the other beautiful things about you. i'm always going to support you and love you. and if you want to be pregnant, then i'm happy to oblige."

you laughed despite your sadness, swatting at him playfully, which elicited a "what? i'm serious!" from nanami.

"shut up," you muttered, still chuckling. he smiled, happy to see that you were laughing along with him. nanami pressed a kiss to your temple, humming an "i love you" against your skin.

you snuggled deeper into him, craning your neck to meet his eyes. "i wanna be a mom, nani."

he wrapped both arms around you, meeting your gaze. "then a mom you shall be, my koibito."

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sunlightmurdock · 1 month

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this is your psa to just be a kind person and respect other people tysm

okay so after being subposted about a lot, I just wanted to clear some things up on my end because this was not random and I literally refuse to be made the villain here.

About a month ago, I was sent an anon about some similarities between my fic Blow by Blow and another creator’s series of drabbles. I messaged this creator calmly and we had a really nice conversation where we both agreed that lines get blurred sometimes and it’s easy to forget if you were potentially inspired by another fic you had read a while ago.

So, they had read Blow by Blow and still followed me at this point. But, they acknowledged the similarities and apologised. I was more than happy to continue with my life bc who cares.

Then, I received another anon about the same creator but about similarities between another of their series of drabbles and my fic Trouble in Paradise. I took a look for myself, and it was astounding. Upset, I blocked them. After a really upsetting day yesterday, I published that anon. I have since taken it down because exposing their name didn’t feel like the right thing to do at that point…

But, after they made a series of subposts last night claiming to have never heard of me or read any of my works, I’ve had enough to be honest. I have screenshots of this person in the likes of that fic. Even if they haven’t read the whole thing, they posted two chapters to their drabble Masterlist that were strikingly similar to chapter 1 of Trouble in Paradise, which they have liked and read. One of those chapters has since been deleted (I can only imagine why).

I reached out to them this morning explaining the situation and giving them an opportunity to talk to me, but they decided to block me instead, so here are:

similarities from the not stolen fic from a creator who has never heard of me or this work, theirs highlighted in purple while the original work (mine) is highlighted in pink. If you’ve read trouble in paradise, you may also spot some more underlying similarities. sorry in advance for the long post 🙄

so the premise of their drabble plays out exactly like the second half of Trouble in Paradise 0.1. reader is wearing the exact same thing. male mc is a stranger to the island, who on his first day has found someone exciting, happy and much younger. description of the bedroom is also looking eerily similar… they are both bartenders, who after a shift drive the male mc back to their place.

So in this realm, we can see that the dialogue is not only the exact same but once again, the reader is wearing the exact same thing and performing the same actions.

and here we have their Drabble ending the exact same way my chapter does, with the dialogue being nearly word for word the same.

I am not claiming to own the silly girl on an island trope, but after specifically speaking to this creator before about another one of my fics which had wayyyy too many similarities of theirs to be a coincidence, and them apologising, I thought we were beyond this. This creator then claimed to have never heard of me or my work.

I have screenshots of them in the likes of this fic, I know that they read at least the beginning, which is where the similarities start and end as far as I’m aware. Up until I blocked them, they had followed me for 11 months. This is the second time I have had an issue with them, after handling the first privately.

It’s really upsetting 1. not only to have had the premise of my stories rewritten by someone else but 2. for them to pretend that they have never heard of me when we have had conversations, and when I have screenshots of them interacting with my fics.

@devinedoll not really cool

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raitonsfw · 5 months

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There srsly needs to be more bby boy Nagito stuff, idk what's wrong with ppl 😭 I'm requesting Nagito with his s/o that were a couple before the neo world program, and once Monokuma announces the killing game, Nagito's sweet mommy s/o makes it clear that no one's laying a finger on him, getting very overprotective. During Nagito's hope rants, his s/o is just glaring at the classmates like "dammit y'all better listen to what my bf has to say". They/she also praises him a lot during investigations and for leading the class trials. 🤗

𝚒'𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 | 𝚔𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚎𝚍𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚘

synopsis: The sun and the sea taunted you as the bear played with your downfall, but more detrimentally, your boyfriend who had offered himself up to the entire class with the extent of death knocking at his door. or; a rewritten chapter one of super danganronpa 2, with an insert of overprotective reader and slight baby boy nagito.

warnings: gn!reader and or fem!reader, spoilers for chapter 1 of sdr2, cursing, fits of despair, a crapload of hope references, a kiss with implied smut (nothing nsfw is explicitly written), nagito and reader are a couple, slight praising, affection, petnames (my love, angel, baby boy), reader would do anything for nagito, implied violence (the first victim), mentions of death, mentions of blood, primarily angst?, its not totally on brand with the request im so sorry!🥺

a/n: gave me a beautiful excuse to rewatch the entire first chapter of sdr2 (tysmmmm). i tried my best for the baby boy(ness) of it all, but my brain wasn’t working with me as i wrote so there’s only slight mentions. i didn't write past the second half of the trial because if i actually wrote in the blackened from chapter 1, the reader probably would’ve jumped over the trial stands to attack them for trying to hurt nagito. idk why i struggled so much, ugh but i promise promise promise i can write nagito better than this i swear. wc: 2.9k. m.list

now playing: moving up in the world by dagames

divider credit: @benkeibear & @firefly-graphics

The sun shone against the beach and you squinted at it in confusion. Another bad dream, you thought but then it all rushed back to you. It was something like a dizzy spell, the classroom you had been seemingly teleported out of felt surreal as you sat on the grains of sand surrounding you. You looked over to your right, your vision blurred and saw someone also laying next to you, unconscious and plastered on their side.

And then the pixelated green came into view as you blinked away the fuzziness, your heart nearly punching up to the base of your throat. You let out a disgruntled noise, crawling over towards him to see if he was breathing, ‘cause if he wasn’t– You couldn’t bear that thought, pushing it back within the crevices of your mind as you ran your palm over his arm.

“Nagito, Nagito!” You called out as you shook him gently from the rasps of the trance, hoping he’d respond. His chest rose and fell to your relief, and you studied the details of his face. His eyes were closed and his mouth slightly agape but no noticeable scars or wounds stuck out to you and your heart fell back to normal with a steady pulse. You shook him again, this time a little more forceful, and he awoke with a start. His eyes shot open and he took in the picture before him, sitting up quickly. Nagito groaned quietly as the sun hit him directly in the eyes and he rubbed them carefully, trying to make sense of what had happened.

You saw his realization dawn on him. “Y/N.”

Nagito immediately hugged you, much more tightly than he ever had before and you held onto him as he buried his hands into the wisps of your hair. He felt calm, the aura around him filling up the spaces in your confusion as he looked at you for the first time since the classroom. His grayish eyes clued in onto the mayhem they had encountered when the pink rabbit explained their future school trip. But what he couldn’t hide was his truth, the iniquity wedging itself in between his seams, the spiraling circles within his pupils, the hope that he so desperately craved on the tiny island.

And you were to make sure he had all the hope he needed rushing through his veins, whatever it takes for your partner.

When you two met each other’s eyes in the midst of the tiny classroom, you were both confused. It seemed as if you had forgotten things about the other, something in between but you couldn’t quite figure out what. All that came to you was the newfound love you had acquired for him, being as you had started dating him a few months before he was accepted into Hope’s Peak Academy.

You tried to remember the missing piece but as he glanced at you, his mouth opening slightly, the doors slid open again and the last student made his way into the classroom. Your head had become totally muddled and as you moved on closer to Nagito, his mouth had been basically sewn shut with the presence of the new classmate. He was assessing the reality of the issue they were facing and you decided not to bother him, letting his mind wander.

As the waves crashed against your ears in the background, you were faced with another revelation. That he was safe– here with you, that one instance made the whole weirdness much more easy to handle.

“I’m sure everything’s okay.” Nagito assured, a kind smile resting against the frivolities of his demeanor.

“It’s just a school trip.” You nodded, agreeing with him. It was going to be okay.

“A happy school trip full of hope.”

“Wh-What just…happened…?” Nagito spoke in between the dead silence, the other students peering at each other with horrified looks.

No one dared answer him, half of the students looked like they were about to faint. You included.

The entirety of Jabberwock park had felt like death seeped in and took hold, the pained feeling sinking into the cracks of the sidewalk. Monokuma had just disappeared along with the Monobeasts hovering behind his tail and you felt the anguish of his despairing words weigh you down heavily, your heart threatened to burst as the thought of what the stuffed bear explained.

You needed to protect him, the thought following closely as you remembered every single syllable of the rules Monokuma mentioned. You didn’t want to be murdered, your brain reeling with all the possibilities of what could happen. But more importantly– most importantly, you didn’t want Nagito to die. You were painfully aware of his self-depreciating tendencies and sometimes he scared you with quiet comments about death.

“I guess I’ll offer myself up first if this is a killing game. Maybe we can find some hope in my death if we all work together in favor.” You heard Nagito announce with a wavering confidence and you snapped your neck towards him.

Like that.

A staggered look spread on your face and you felt your cheeks become hot with anger. You couldn’t find your footsteps fast enough, your entire body moving into front of Nagito and you shielded your hands up. Hajime went to protest but you beat him to it, your mouth flying open.

He was not fucking sacrificing himself in the name of hope. You cut that cord short, on second thought he had all the hope he needed at the moment.

“No one’s laying a finger on anyone, you hear me?!” You burst out, your annoyance through the roof. “Especially not Nagito. We can figure this out another way, we’re not sacrificing our friends. Don’t even think about it.”

“We’re not going to kill, no one here’s like that.” Hajime interjected, albeit a bit hesitant. “We’re not sacrificing anyone.”

“The fear that Monokuma instilled in everyone though...Hajime, are you positive someone won’t? At this point, it seems to be fully plausible that someone could potentially kill someone with the notion of that escape motive.” Byakuya spoke up and his words felt like a thousand bricks.

He was right, that motive was extremely compelling. But it didn’t phase you in the slightest.

Everything you had was behind you, the white haired man leaning into your backside as you defended him. There was nothing for you at home, everyone just about had left you and you promised with a solemn word that you’d give your everything to Nagito. You tried not to be too mad at him, you understood the situation completely. He was just trying to help, even as fucking idiotic as his words seemed to be in that precise moment.

“Babe, it’s okay.” Nagito leaned down towards your ear, murmuring the pet name affectionately and you felt his hands rest against your shoulders. “I don’t mind being a stepping stone for hope.”

You whipped your head around to face up at him, the insolence draining within your vocals as you spoke to him. “We’ll talk later.” You continued, towards the rest of your classmates. “If you so much as look at him the wrong way, the blackened will certainly be me. And I will get both of us off this island without so much as a hint of regret.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” Mahiru stated.

You didn’t care. Everyone looked uneasy, a great tension had begun to hover over you. If you had to be the bad guy in this situation so no one would touch your boy, it was worth it for them to be basically eying you like a mastermind. Hajime glanced at you as you nearly seethed your sentence, backing up into him as a way to protect him. “Do not touch him.”

Without a second thought, you grabbed Nagito by the collar of his shirt and dragged him back towards the bridge to the cottages, his small frame bending down as you two walked. As you passed through the hotel gate, you let his shirt go with a sigh as you fully realized the scene you made. “I’m sorry, angel. I got too carried away again.”

“No, it’s okay really! I was out of line.” He apologized with an awkward smile and you were taken aback by his confession. He straightened up, smoothing over his shirt with a quiet hum. “Someone will kill someone though and if it has to be me, I honestly don’t mind.”

“Promise me you won’t start anything.” You made to say, ushering him inside of your cottage. He immediately beelined for the foot of your bed, sitting against it carefully as you closed the door behind you. You locked it and made to shut the blinds of the windows when you heard him flop onto the bed with a tired exhale. “Nagito?”

“I’m okay, just thinking.” He said with a sigh, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as you made your way to him. You sat next to him, crossing your leg over the other as you leaned one of your palms on his thigh. He glanced down at you, his eyebrows raising slightly as you gently patted it.

“No, seriously. Please don’t start anything.” You quietly said again. “I don’t want to lose you, you’re quite literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Nagito sat up, his shirt rucking down the pit of his tummy and you smiled at him as he leaned closer to you. His hair was a bit messy from the day and you tangled your other hand into it, smoothing it upwards. He hummed happily at the feeling, closing his eyes. “I’m happy that it’s you I’m trapped on an island with.”

“And a bunch of other people.” You laughed quietly, intertwining his hand with yours against his thigh as you continued brushing his hair out with your fingers. “But yeah I’m glad too, baby boy.”

You saw his face light up, a blush spreading across his face. You swore you felt his heartbeat quicken, the small pulses against your chest as you leaned into him to kiss him. He returned the gesture with another low hum, with much more oomph than usual.

“You take such good care of me, Y/N.” He whispered against your lips, smiling into it. “What would I do without you?”

“You’re lucky to be alive, you know.” You wearily reminded him as you pulled away from him and his face dropped with the realization. You don’t know what Nagito had realized, maybe it was the subtle hint of his talent keeping him alive but you were not expecting his next words as they fell from his lips a bit too seriously.

“Promise me something if I do get murdered? Don’t find the culprit.”

You struggled to wrap your head around his words before a bubbly laugh escaped you, trying to lighten the situation. You moved to straddle his hips, trying to desperately shut up the plan that was herding in his mind. You looked down at him as he looked back up, his hands resting against the small of your back and you saw it– the spiraling, the mess of his unwanted trauma, a plot that he conjured up within the walk back towards the cottage.

The killing game was a bonus.

“What if the culprit’s me?” You asked, pushing him back onto the pillows and Nagito let out a quiet noise. “Surely, you wouldn’t want me to die?”

“I would gladly die by my lover’s hands.”

The pitch black clouded your eyes and you let out a quiet yelp. You didn’t know what was going on, why did the lights go out during the party? A few loud shouts surrounded the room and you closed your eyes, listening to the sounds of everyone panicking. You huddled yourself against the wall, practically tripping over the cord connected against the wall and you felt it lift up slightly as you sat there on the ground.

Where was Nagito? A minute ago he had been next to you and Hajime but when you had fumbled for his hand when the lights went out, it wasn’t there in reach.

The lights came on with a blinding shine to them and you immediately scanned the area for Nagito. He had fallen near the back table and he glanced towards you with a panicked expression. His name fell from your lips quietly as everyone else gasped at Mikan, but you didn’t care to react to whatever had happened in the middle of the room. You rushed over to where Nagito sat, clearly in a daze and you helped him up quickly. “Are you okay? Did you trip?”

“I did, yeah.” You dusted off the backs of his thighs for him, checking for any scraps and bruises. He hugged his jacket over himself and bit, his cheeks blushing red as you finished up and you planted a small kiss on his face. “T-Thank you, Y/N.”

You had to make sure he was alright, there was no telling what had happened during that blackout. Someone could’ve brought in poison and tainted a weapon with it, though you weren’t quite sure how it would’ve made the pat down as Byakuya had checked everyone thoroughly. But still if there was so much as a scratch on Nagito, the entire world was going to burn with you.

A stench of blood had perforated your sense of smell and you were just about to double check your partner’s clothing again before Hajime flipped up the tablecloth that had laid stagnant against the back table, revealing the first kill of the game that taunted your demise.

The investigation began not long after the screams died down, the remnants of sniffles and sobs overtaking the hallway. You walked around aimlessly with Nagito, trying to get information out of your classmates but there was no luck for the both of you. Ironic huh.

“Hey, Hajime. Can Y/N and I join you for the investigation?” Nagito asked as he spotted Hajime opening the door to the crime scene again, having just finished speaking with Sonia. “I think it would be easier for us to talk in groups rather than one on one.”

“So smart, my love.” You murmured out loud, which made Nagito immediately take your hand as Hajime muttered out a ‘sure, just don’t get in the way.’ You squeezed his hand as you felt the sweat on his palm, trying to reassure him internally that everything is okay. He was probably just spooked that he had predicted the killing, how could he have known?

And how could you have known Nagito’s motive?

As everyone stood around the poisoned circle, you folded your arms across your chest. Stationed next to Mahiru and Hajime, you peered in front of you. Nagito was a ways away from the cursed podiums that had you cornered in truths and interjections, standing in between Ibuki and Mikan with dignified silence.

As the trial went on, he didn’t speak much and he certainly didn’t pass up the chance to eye you up from the distance as you stated your case when you were suspected because of your outburst. As you scrambled for an opening, something to show for accountability, Nagito spoke for you.

“We’re all friends, aren't we?” He laughed it off, the tone switching and you almost applauded his efforts to help you. “We don’t even have any clues to go off of, not a single one. Let’s just give up, we wouldn’t want to waste Monokuma’s time.”

So you want us to die? You couldn’t exactly argue with him now, his plan revealing itself to you. A thick band of trust snapped against you, he had broken it. But you saw the hope rushing through his veins, the pure bliss you had managed to capture from the corner of your eye, the despair that battled his hope swirling in them– and you made your decision right then and there. If you insist. If it means we die together, Nagito Komaeda.

“No, he’s right! Listen to Nagito here, let’s just give up.” You advocated, the reasonings blurting from your mouth faster than you could speak. As you looked around the room with confidence practically pouring out of you, you caught everyone hurriedly agreeing with Nagito. You shouldn’t be so presumptuous but it was the truth, after all. There wasn’t a fucking thing anyone could say or do, the clues had been wrapped up by the killer, swept underneath the rug that had been laid out in its foyer.

That’s wrong, I think.” Chiaki piped up, downcasted but a willingness snagged in her voice. “There are clues.”

Nagito’s eyebrows furrowed and you shot a look at Chiaki, glaring at her with suspicion. What did she mean by that, huh? “There aren’t any clues. We investigated the entire building, searched every crevice, every single piece of evidence–” You started, nearly spiraling yourself. There was no way there was a clue, because if there was…

“The desk lamp.”

“Desk lamp? That’s impossible, Hajime. How would that be a clue?” You argued, but he had already proved you wrong.

“Nagito… It was you, wasn’t it?”

“M-Me?” Nagito almost stepped off the podium, just barely catching himself as he lunged for the center. It was surely just a coincidence you found him next to the blood splattered table, the lamp cord tangled up against his ankle. A coincidence? No, he didn’t kill anyone. He simply meddled with the killer, sparking interest–perhaps fear into them. You looked over at Nagito, noticing the way his hand trembled against his chest.

Then your boy burst into a fit of laughter. It was going to take a lot to protect him now.

Whatever it takes, my love.

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

#𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 •┈••✦#𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 ✧#danganronpa x y/n #danganronpa x you #danganronpa x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #nagito x y/n #nagito x you #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda #komaeda x reader #sdr2 komaeda #danganronpa komaeda #fem reader #gn reader #𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 ✰

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neil-gaiman · 1 year

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Hey Neil, Could I ask for some words of encouragement and maybe advice? My first book is due to go to proofs in a month (non-fiction), and I've been writing my fingers off for the past several months, but at present it feels like I'm writing and writing and not making progress. There's a mountain-high list of technical edits (line edits, referencing, double-checking facts I put in early drafts, changes to fulfill spec requirements, etc, etc), possible changes in chapter order for flow reasons, and the last chapter has been through god knows how many drafts and is still being rewritten, and I can't see the cutting room floor because of the sheer amount of draft pages taken out and left for future books, and this is the absolutely final deadline. In a month, it goes to review, and needs to be 100% done by then; if review passes, we go to print. Do you have any words of wisdom on pacing oneself through this kind of crunch, and maybe how not to panic?

I don't think so. When I'd find myself in that sort of situation I'd normally have a crazy month finishing things and promise myself a lot of sleep or some days off when it was done. Make lists of things to finish then cross them off. Panicking is just fine as long as you don't freeze. Or worse, do something else.

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theetherealbloom · 1 year

Text

UNEVEN ODDS - CH. 6

Chapter Six: I Swear A Million Times To Hold You Just The Way You Like

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER AHH, (besties wrap it up!) Lowkey this chapter was poorly edited so sorry! Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, Swearing, Suicide, FLUFF, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, INFECTED, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing, TLOU is dark please read at your own risk! (MINORS, please run away :,)

Word Count: 17.3k (I hope this makes up for the delay my bad)

A/N: HELLAUR HOOMANS! Thank you again for all the love and support you have given me for this series! I truly appreciate you all for being here <3 This chapter and episode feels a little bit personal to write since I am someone who also has PTSD, so when I watched Pedro’s performance during those difficult panic attack scenes, I truly felt represented and seen. For me, my PTSD is subtle and not overly loud or noticeable at first glance, so when I saw it being portrayed that way I started ugly crying pls--

Song: Sweet Disaster by Oh Wonder

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD – 2023

THREE MONTHS LATER…

WYOMING WILDERNESS, HEADING WEST – DAY

It’s been three months since the incident, and neither of you spoke about what happened that morning in Kansas City. The past few months of walking West have proven a challenge as the seasons begin to change. As you suspected, you noticed Joel slowly let Ellie in; he taught her how to look for tracks and how to properly keep watch the first time he fell asleep. Her questioning, her loving attitude, her nasty language, everything entered his heart gradually. He hadn't planned on it, but he now cares for her. You, on the other hand, were already fond of her, you taught her the more “fun” activities. Like looking for more constellations as time passes by, continuing educating her ASL, and teaching a few of your favorite songs from your original reality.

You occasionally hummed as the seasons changed, trying to fill the silence and somber with music. Joel and Ellie didn’t seem to mind, you asked if they were bothered or annoyed but Joel grunted, “Better than Ellie asking a million more questions.” You simply chuckled while Ellie protested and began to defend herself. And then there were the moments you couldn’t quite label. Small touches between you and Joel, providing each other comfort now and then, knowing how bad the loneliness can get to anyone. A squeeze on your shoulder, the brushing of fingers, and if you were lucky, you’d get to hold his hand for a period of time as you trekked through the terrain. You swore there were times you felt his gaze roaming every mile of skin you had, but every time you turned to look he was already busy doing something else.

The branches have exchanged their leaves for white sleeves and all warm-blooded creatures make ghosts as they breathe. As gentle as feathers, the snow piles high, this world gets rewritten and retraced every time. After seeing Cody crawling with infected, you three headed out to the large forest to find out if Tommy is still alive and in hiding. Even Ellie tried to point out that there was a possibility he didn’t make it, but as Joel had said before, he was persistent.

You came across a cozy cabin hidden in the forest. Realizing you had no other options, you had to ask for directions to where you were at the moment. A quiet and nice old lady, named Florence had resided and mentioned she was with her husband, Marlon. After making the soup she told three of you that her husband wouldn’t be happy they were in their home. You peeked past the curtains and out the window you saw he husband returning from hunting in the forest, hanging out two white rabbits by the door. Marlon walked inside his home to find her wife sitting upon the rocking chair, her gaze slowly moving towards Joel, him with his revolver out while you and Ellie are upstairs, quietly watching from the mezzanine.

Marlon reluctantly places his bow and arrows on the side entry table, removes his gloves, and unzips his outer jacket, while Joel grumbles out, “And the gun.” Marlon grunts, “Who the hell are you?” Joel walks a bit closer while demanding for him to cooperate, he says, “Just someone passing through. Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it out of reach.” The senior does as he’s told and places it on the other table and asks his wife who was quietly watching the interaction, “Why didn’t you shoot him?” She continues rocking back and forth, “The gun’s all the way over there. He didn’t hurt me by the way.”

“Yeah, I got eyes.” He nonchalantly replies and spots the empty soup bowl on the wooden living room table, “You made him soup?” Florence gives his husband an obvious answer, "Yeah, I did. It’s cold out.” He simply shakes his head and sits down on his own chair. “I’m looking for my brother.” Joel states and the other man replies and removes his cap, “Well, I ain’t seen him.” Your cowboy shakes his head, “I haven’t told you what he looks like.”

“He look anything like you?” He asks and Joel tilts his head, “A bit.”

Ellie taps your arm and whispers to you, “It’s you and Joel from the future.” You frown and shake your head as you whisper back to her, “No.” The young girl rolls her eyes, “Whatever, you should see the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention.” You blink at her, and you’re seemingly left speechless.

“Then I ain’t seen him,” He says, “He’s got a girl and his wife with him.” You hear Florence say and you nearly choke on air in surprise. Joel turns to look at her, pissed, and confused, and didn’t even bother to correct her. Ellie yells next to you, “Can I come down?” Joel raises his voice at her, “No! Ellie!” You couldn’t stop her as she excitedly runs downstairs, and you have no choice but to follow her.

The elderly couple laughs knowingly, Joel looks at you and Ellie, “What did I just say?” And you give him an apologetic look and Ellie replies, “Joel, come on. They’re like a thousand.” Marlon questions aloud, “Who’s this little psycho and her mother?” Your mouth slightly parted open, about to inform him that you weren’t married to Joel and you weren’t her mother but Joel dismissed it, “Never mind them. I need you to tell us where we are.” He went to the middle of the living room, shoving the map in his direction, cheekily the man throws back, “If you got a map, why you lost?” Ellie’s lips turn downwards as she replies sarcastically, “Must’ve missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest.”

Marlon whistles out, “Holy.” And Florence chuckles, still enjoying the excitement that they haven’t had in years. Joel sighs and points out on the map, “We’re somewhere here. Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife’s.” Marlon glances back at his wife, “Did you tell him the truth?” She nods, “Yeah.” He raises an eyebrow at her, “Are you telling me the truth?” She doesn’t hesitate, “Yeah.” He lets out a deep exhale as he leans over, pointing where you all were currently.

Joel places his revolver back in his holster, his eyebrows are furrowed and he sighs in frustration, “Well, you found a great place to hide, I guess.” He sits down and you sit right next to him and Ellie mimics you both. “Hide? Came here before you were born, sonny. Get the hell away from everybody.” Marlon replied as his wife gives her input, “I didn’t want to.” He grumpily waves her off and you lean next to Ellie, “Okay, there’s some truth in what you said.” She gives you a smirk in response.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother but if you’ve come this far, then you know what’s out there. You seen Cody?” Marlon asked while Joel clenches his jaw, and Ellie replies, “Yeah, got close enough. It’s crawling with Infected.” He hums in agreement, “Yeah, Laramie and Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be, you can’t go there no more.” Joel doesn’t give up and asks, “So you haven’t heard the name, ‘Tommy’?”

“Nope.” He simply says and Ellie questions, “What about the Fireflies?” Florence replies this time, “We get those in the summer.” The young girl frowns, “Not the bugs, the people.” Cluelessly the woman asks, “There are firefly people?” Her husband chuckles and Joel's frown grows deeper, creating harsh lines on his forehead, “You got any advice on the best way west?” The senior man doesn’t miss a beat, “Yeah. Go east. But you never go past the river here.” He then points to a specific location on the map, the blue stream that flows across the paper, “Ever.”

“What’s past the river?” Ellie asked, brave and a little naive, the kind wise Florence replies, “Death. We never see who’s out there but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some infected, some not.” She turns to look at Joel, “If your brother is west of the river, he’s gone.” You lift your eyes to the man next to you, Joel has his eyebrows pinched, his gaze distant, and the lines by the side of his mouth are evident. Your heart sinks at the chance that the elderly couple might be right. “You’re not gonna scare us,” Ellie softly says and the woman answers, “Scared him.” Her husband chuckles and Joel scrambles to get out of there, not saying a single word, he’s grabbing the map and packs up the rest of his things.

You and Ellie are quick to follow after him as she comments, “You don’t seriously believe them.” Joel’s footsteps are loud with every crunch of snow, “They’ve lived here a long time.” He turns and you do too to see Ellie grab a rabbit, “Put that back.” Ellie doesn’t listen and swings the dead rabbit behind her back, “They don’t know anything. Never heard of the fireflies.” Joel unexpectedly stops walking, and you can hear his breathing become labored as he places his hand on the wooden fence, you angle your head to the right in confusion and concern.

Joel only hears muffled echoes as the ringing in his ears overpowers his senses, “Joel? Are you okay?” You softly ask and there is no response, you hear Ellie begin to worry as well and lines begin to form across your forehead. “Shut up.” His voice was barely audible as he places his hand on his chest. You jerk back, but you try to decode what was happening. Ellie then asks him, “Holy shit. Are you dying?” He shakes his head in response, “I’m okay.” But the world seems to spin around him, his vision feels blurry and the weightlessness he feels is unsettling, unable to process the news he had just heard and the possible chance his brother is no longer alive. The further he goes West, the more his paternal empathy is starting to merge Ellie and Sarah into one.

Yours and Ellie’s voices merge into one large echo as you both try and make sure he’s alright. “I’m fine.” You both don’t buy it, “No, no, but are you? Because just a reminder that if you’re dead, we’re fucked.” Ellie said, referring to both of you, which seemingly brings Joel grounded remembering he is now a caretaker and guardian to the both of you, he turns to you as he assures, “I said I’m fine. It’s just the… cold air all of a sudden.”

You don’t buy it one bit but you don’t want to diagnose him immediately so you keep silent and listen to Ellie speak as she marches on forward while ducking under the wooden fence, “All right, uh… let’s go and find Tommy and, and the Fireflies.” Joel grunts and looks at you and you avert your eyes from him, quickly following Ellie.

“It’s gonna be easy,” Ellie said, stumbling a little but marching on, “All we have to do is cross the River of Death.”

All the bruises seem to surface like mud beneath the snow, your feet dug into the snow, a small thin path of footprints lay behind me, telling me where you have come from, but not where you are going. The winds were cold, almost freezing your skin with a simple touch. The icy winds blew against your jacket, the fabric keeping you warm, enough to feel comfortable but not to keep your cold thoughts away. You knew about Jackson, but you weren’t entirely sure where exactly the town was. You silently hope Tommy was fine and nothing had changed.

You gazed around the land, nothing but unending snow and ice, almost a hint that this land had gotten incredibly secluded through the years. After the trees reached the sky, children laughed and played, and the sounds of birds chirping in the woods woke me up from my long rest. It was almost as if the world itself was a part of you, but now that everything has turned frigid and awful, you hardly recognize it.

You see a river stream to your left, Ellie stops to look at it and rolls her eyes as she sarcastically says, “The River of Death. Scary.” Joel sighs, “Don’t start. It’s too close to dark. There’s some caves along the river. We’ll set up camp there, cross in the mornin’.” Ellie smiles, “Good. I’m starving. Should’ve stolen two rabbits.” You ruffle her hair a little bit and Joel replies, “We can get our own rabbits.”

Ellie excitedly asks as she looks up at Joel, “You gonna teach me how? You taught Birdie.” You bite back a smile from the memory, his entire firm body was behind you, hands on either side of you, the ghost of his breath as he whispered instructions creating a trail of goosebumps. If you were being honest, you were very close to kissing him, but you were too afraid to mess it all up, to ask if he felt it too, and continued to wait for him to be ready. “Just keep movin’.” Joel dismisses her and the girl sighs in frustration and exhaustion. You look to Joel, your eyes gazing into his brown ones, hoping that if you stare long enough you could magically read his mind, then turned to trail after Ellie.

WYOMING WILDERNESS, CAVE – NIGHT

Your campfire appeared to echo the starlight and bounced off the walls of the small cave as if the flames so close and so distant had so very much to say to one another. It crackled and spat before hissing into life. Its lambent light stole away the velvet-black shadows dancing on the wall. As that dry, withered stump slowly releases years and years of energy soaked up from the sun, the air, and the ground around it, outcome bright lights, whispering hisses, sizzling pops, and a thick, intoxicating smell of musky smoke and pine needles.

You sit atop a large rock by the edge with Ellie, both of your heads are tilted up, black heavens are the perfect stage upon which the brightest of hues dance. You could watch the aurora lights for infinity and always see that it is new, a unique moment and beauty in all of existence. Rays of light fall from the sky, making drapes that stretch across the sky. And they are reminiscent of fluttering drapes or curtains in the wind. There is also a violet and a crimson trim at the bottom and top ends. Sometimes the hues are blended together and braided into one another. New beams of light streaming down from space cause the curtains to vanish and reappear.

Joel looks up to find you both whispering and giggling, you are pointing up at the sky and moving excitedly as you explained the glow from the stars and the infinite rays of light creating waves in the cold midnight sky. He watches Ellie lean her head on your shoulder and you gently rub her back, eventually giving her a light squeeze as a form of a side hug. He brings his fingers to his lips, and a shrill attention-grabbing pierces through the air, both of you swiftly turn your attention to Joel who says, “Come down from there. You’re both gonna break your necks.”

You and Ellie make your way down the high rock, and both of you walk to Joel who was sipping from his flask. Ellie curiously asks Joel, “Ahh… Can I have some?” He shakes his head at her, “No.” The fourteen-year-old whines, “What? Just to warm up. C’mon.” Joel looks at you, and you were surprised he wanted your input or permission. You simply nodded, letting him give the metal flask to Ellie which she receives with a bright smile, she raises it in thanks and takes a large sip. Her face twists into a sour expression, her eyes shut for a brief moment while her eyebrows meet in the middle, “Yep… still gross.” Ellie hands it back to Joel and he asks if you want some to which you respond with a shake of your head. She lets out a little cough and Joel quietly sips from his flask.

“So, I’ve been thinking. Let’s say we find the Fireflies, it all works, they draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines and make a cure.” Ellie says and you watch Joel shift his eyes a bit, trying to figure out where this is heading, “Okay?” Ellie raises her eyebrows as she asks aloud, “Then what? Like, what do we do?” Joel raises his defenses, trying to keep the invisible bricks intact steady, “Oh, it’s ‘we’?” Unintentionally you sigh loudly in exasperation, looking at Joel with your eyelids heavy, you nervously lick the bottom of your lip and cling to your patience as it slowly slips through your fingers like sand. Ellie also sighs and reforms her question, “Okay, fine. Whatever. You. Her. You both can do anything you want. Where are you going? What are you doing?”

Joel clears his throat, “It’s never been an option. Maybe… an old farmhouse, some land… a ranch.” Ellie encourages him to continue, “Cool. What kind?” He replies while he smugly looks at Ellie “Sheep. I would raise sheep. They’re quiet… do what they’re told.” Ellie rolls her eyes and nods, “Yeah, yeah. Okay. So, just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic.” You smile at the thought of him living a domesticated life, no more danger or violence, just simple and safe. Joel hesitates a little before asking Ellie, “And what about you? Where are you gonna go?”

She raises her head high, looking up at the full midnight moon glimmering bright along with the twinkling stars, “It’s probably cause I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there’s ocean, and ahead of you, there’s a wall. Nowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell. But you know who my favorite is?” You create creases beneath your eyes as you smile widely, having a pretty good guess as to who. You and Joel say the same thing at the same time, “Sally Ride.” Ellie grins, “Sally fuckin’ Ride! Best astronaut name ever. How about you Birdie?” You blink twice, “What?” She raises an eyebrow, “What are you gonna do when after I save the world? Are you gonna try to go back to your world or whatever?”

You've trusted and refused every compass you've followed, and the same is true of an ever-changing concept of right. You wrap your arms around your middle, and your shoulders rise and fall as you breathe, “Um… I actually haven’t thought about that. I don’t know.” She looks at you with confusion and questions “Don’t you want to go back home?” Her inquiry causes you to shrink into yourself a little more, not wanting to answer, craving to distance yourself from Joel and Ellie’s gaze. You swallow nervously and look down at your worn-out boots, “I… Maybe. It might take a long time before I could figure out something. But to be honest Ellie, I never felt… at home there. So many things that I had before, but they don't matter to me now.”

Then it becomes quiet for a bit, you watch Ellie blink a couple of times, the crackling bright glow of the orange fire illuminating on side of her face, as she begins to question the future before her, she couldn’t help but wonder, “It’ll work, right? The vaccine?” Joel looks down unsure, “It’s a little late to start wonderin’.”

“I tried, with Sam,” Ellie says as she doesn’t bring her eyes to either of you, your eyes soften at her admittance, none of you have talked about what had happened, not wanting to dwell on the past too much, but to hear her finally bring it up giving you a sense of pride, for her to have the courage to speak about something so traumatic. Joel continued the conversation by asking her what she meant, “Tried what?” She still couldn’t bring herself to look at either of you, choosing to gaze into the campfire, “I knew he was infected. I rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know, I know, it was stupid. But I… I wanted to save him.” Joel softly says, the wind carrying his words into the night, “Well, I reckon it’s a lot more complicated than that. Marlene, she’s a lotta things, but… she’s no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it.” Ellie doesn’t say anything as she nods and he takes a large gulp from his flask, throwing his head back as he does.

The fire crackles loudly, but Ellie’s voice could be heard as she asked, “You wanna take first watch or second?” Joel grunts out, “I’ll do both. Get some sleep.” You opened your mouth to dispute him, saying that you could do the first watch but he doesn’t let you get a single syllable in as he narrows his eyes at you, “No.” You huff in annoyance and say nothing. You and Ellie get up to go deeper into the cave as Joel says to the both of you while grabbing his rifle, “Dream of… going home to sheep ranches on the moon.” Ellie gives him another nod, “I will.”

WYOMING WILDERNESS, CAVE – EARLY MORNING

The snow forest feels to the rest of the world like a gift waiting to be opened. Upon the ascent of the daylight, the wilderness is so bitter cold. It exudes a clean aura that invites the soul to pause for a minute and allow the sight to permeate the soul. You live in the moment, the past is always gone, and each day is something new, a stepping stone into a future you dream of even in the cold. The last of the morning stars were blinking out tragically above you. They glowed like bling-silver grains of sand in the early sky. It was a sight to see as their bejeweled splendor faded into nothingness. A ghostly, orb-white winter moon lingered there, eerily similar to a faint strobe light. A halo of brilliant golden encircled its waning brilliance. The sky around it was a vast sheet of grate-grey, with a plum-purple hue near the horizon.

You woke up a bit earlier than usual, and you found Joel passed out, laying on his side and using his jacket as a pillow. You could hear the birds squawking from above the trees, and see the campfire had dimmed. Quietly, you pushed yourself up and grabbed the rifle he had left beside him. You did the usual checks to ensure the safety of everyone, and to see if there were any tracks or unwanted animals lurking around. So far, luckily, you three were safe for the time being.

You made your way back to the cave, finding Ellie alert and awake. She looks at Joel and then back at you, and you raise your finger to your lips, indicating that she should let Joel rest and be quiet. The young girl nods in understanding, silently walking towards you, the both of you taking watch. You let Ellie practice what Joel had taught her and let her hold the rifle in the meantime. And she did everything perfectly.

As time passed and the sun began to rise from the east, you hear Joel mumble in his sleep. You tuned your ears to his whimpers and mumbling, catching the words, “Supposed to be me… Supposed to…” You frown in understanding and worry, you had your fair share of nightmares fueled by guilt. Joel startles awake, gasping for air as he pushes himself up frantically searching for his rifle, only to find you and Ellie standing guard. Ellie couldn’t help herself as she quips, “Still mumbling in your sleep. Birdie and I woke up early. You were passed out, so we both took second watch.”

Joel’s fury sprang to life as he stood up, “You gotta wake me up if that happens. Both of you can’t do things like this.” You felt a flash of irritation as you say to him, “But we can… ‘cause we just did.” He’s quiet for a moment, caught off guard by your reaction, then he speaks, “I’m responsible for both of you, okay?” Ellie is quick to throw back, “Then don’t fall asleep.” She began to recount detail and instruction Joel had given her before when he taught her while you proudly smirk at him, “What can I say, man? I’m a natural.” Joel grouchily nods, “Uh-huh.” And gestures to her to give him back the rifle, he nods at her in approval this time, “You wake me up next time.” Ellie rolls her eyes and smiles sarcastically, “Yes, sir. But you should know that Birdie woke up before me.”

Your eyes widen at her, “Ellie, don’t throw me under the bus!” She chuckles at you as Joel gives you a pointed look and you raise your eyebrows at him, daring him to try and argue, instead he just shakes his head, “Let’s get goin’.”

The cold air stung your cheeks and you pulled your scarf up closer to your face. As you looked around you took notice of the white blanket of snow covering the trees, ground, and mountains. The smell of damp pine trees made the air feel fresh and clean. The world around you was frozen in a glaring white quiet. Nothing made a sound, nothing moved, nothing sang. Winter's slavering teeth have vanished. Its piercing winds had stripped the trees of their final leaves, leaving them naked and brooding in a harsh world. They were groaning beneath the weight of the snow, encased in their medical coats. A great limb would occasionally groan, shatter, and collapse. It sounded like an explosion went off in the jungle. Apart from that, the woodland was engulfed in an eerie stillness. There was no morning chorus, sound symphony, or avian orchestra. The entire globe was encased in a dome of quiet. Winter's lethal grasp has strangled and suffocated all life on the planet. Snowflakes fluttered down on the three of you, sylph-like in their airy quiet. They glinted like crushed diamond dust as they landed. A shimmering winter scape of white and silver.

The sudden gunshot disrupted the peace of the forest, and the startled geese began to honk and fly off into the distance, Joel waits for a bit to ensure it was safe to cross the bridge, Ellie observes, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does, “The River of Death. Still no people.” Joel grumbles out, “Fine.” Then proceeds to stand up, and walk to the entrance of the bridge as you and Ellie closely follow him from behind.

As you continue to make your way across the bridge, Ellie tries to whistle like Joel, however, no high pitch sound comes out, just puffs of air. Joel turns around in confusion, and Ellie’s reply is muffled by her fingers, “I’m learning how to whistle.” And Joel looks at her incredulously, “You don’t know how to whistle?” She retorts, “Does it sound like I know how to whistle?” He says the obvious, “No.” You laugh, letting yourself enjoy the little moments of peace with the two. “Seriously, though, how the fuck do you do that?” Ellie asks walking a little bit ahead and you walking side-by-side with Joel, he harrumphs, “Talent.” And you lightly smack his arm at his response, and you swore you saw him give you a small smile, Ellie mutters, “Whatever. You should teach me how to hunt.”

“Huh.” Joel states, and Ellie mocks him, “‘Huh’. Like. ‘She’s a girl. She can’t handle it.’” Joel speaks as he trudges through the snow, “You can handle the shootin’. Not so sure about the dressin’.” Ellie sighs, “What’s the dressin’?” You and Joel walk a little bit past her and he replies, “The part where you take the guts out.” And your nose scrunches up at the thought while Ellie says, “Oh, yeah. Why do they call it dressing? It’s like you should call it undressing ‘cause it is. It’s like… undressing from the inside.” She paused for a bit to catch her breath before saying, “Still interested, though.”

The sound of water rushing fills your ears as you waddled through the snow, stumbling upon a large structure. Dams were mechanical temples that harnessed the victorious powers of water, power, and terrestrial fertility for human advantage. “Dam.” Ellie said, and you rolled your eyes in amusement while Joel tells her, “You’re no Will Livingston.” She quickly throws back at him, “Yeah, yeah, but who is? So that made electricity?” Referencing the Dam in front of them, Joel mutters, “Yeah. Don’t ask me. I don’t have a clue.” Ellie laughs, “You know, you could’ve just made something up. I would’ve believed you.” Joel answers, “Ask Birdie, she’s practically a walking encyclopedia.”

“I don’t know whether to be offended or amazed at the fact you know what an encyclopedia is.” You quip at him with a smirk and his lip quirks up in a small smirk at you, and his eyes twinkle with mischief and desire as his pupils slightly darken, “Smartass.” You winked at him, “You like it.”

“Damn right.” He said with his eyes unwavering from yours, and you felt every atom in your body spark to life. Joel’s heavy breathing stirred the tiny hairs on your neck, sending a shiver into every cell of your body. Ellie disrupted you both as she makes a disgusted groan, “If the two of you are done flirting can we please keep moving?” The heat of embarrassment rushed into your face, leaving you speechless as you decide to break away from his stare and keep marching forward.

“Look at that river. It’s crazy blue.” Ellie said then was immediately quiet after, somewhere between then and now irony slipped its way into her vocabulary, laughter became an anecdote for guilt, sacrifice grew to be a band name for shame and unnecessary death became a nightmare that rode her piggyback. At this point, the thought suddenly struck her, “Hey, Joel, Birdie… what if this is the River of Death?”

Joel grabs the map from his jacket pocket and unfolds it, checking to see if Ellie was right. The cold wind harshly bit into your skin as you three stared at the crystal blue river. At first, you couldn’t see them, but you could hear them—the snapping of twigs, the crunch of snow, and the clopping sound of horse hoofs. There were more than one, more than three, and they were closing in. Joel tried to grab you and Ellie to run, but they were too quick, and organized, and had you surrounded in seconds with their guns and rifles pointed at you. “Get behind me,” Joel said, slightly pushing both of you behind his tall frame. You all raised your hands up, and showed no sign of aggression, Joel shouts, “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble. We’re just passin’ through.”

“Drop the gun,” the harsh voice ordered in front of you, Joel does as he’s told and so do you. “Both of you… take five steps back.” the man says, and Joel tries to reason with him, “How ‘bout we just talk this through?” And the unknown man unrelentingly replies, “How ‘bout you shut the fuck up?” Joel's shoulders tense, “Okay, easy.” He turns to both of you, Ellie has her eyes wide open and mouth slightly parted, her hands slightly quivering and you trying to steady your breathing, “You’ll both be okay.”

You follow the orders given to you and take five steps back and you hear the man ask, “You been near Infected?” And Joel replies, “There’s no Infected out here.” He doesn’t buy it one bit and retorts, “The hell there ain’t.” He whistles and you hear a short, abrupt vocalization, relatively loud and high-pitched, changes in frequency, the bark of an excited dog, “Last chance for a bullet. If you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.”

The black large dog continues to bark and its handler removes his leash, he prances over to Joel, sniffing him up and down, jumps up to place his paws on his stomach, looks at him then whines, not finding any indication of the virus. The dog walks back over to his handler for a treat while Joel’s Texan accent becomes heavy, “Like I said… we’ll just move on.” The man still has his rifle pointed at you as he sits atop his horse, he nods over in your and Ellie’s direction, “Now both of them.”

Your heart drops, and you hear Ellie’s breathing become shaky. The flip in your stomach takes over all of your senses, you are frozen and unmoving as you watch the dog crouch lowly and growl at you and Ellie. Joel turns back to glance at you both and you’re worriedly looking at him. He turns around, not bringing himself to watch, the world becomes quiet, the silent ringing returns, and his lungs are clawing for air. It brings him back to that moment when the world took her away, his Sarah, the powerlessness and helplessness feeling that had followed him over the past twenty years. The weight of the world was placed on his shoulders that faithful day.

The sound of a high-pitched bark brings him back to the present, he hears you and Ellie giggle and turns to find you and her completely fine, happily rubbing and petting the dog as the creature licks and wags its tail. The man whistles and the dog is called away, you and Ellie stand up from the snow and hear the leader say, “You just bought yourself ten more seconds. What are you doin’ out here?” Joel quickly replies, “I’m just lookin’ for my brother. That’s all, nothin’ more.” A beautiful woman, whose skin was as rich and deep as any stately home mahogany, exclaims, “Ho!” And walks her horse forward, “What’s your name?” He answers breathlessly, “Joel.” And his name became the key, the password, and the answer, for them to escort you into their town.

You three were given and allowed to ride your own horses, the cold wind rushing past me. The sun’s rays of light are covered by the darkness of the clouds. Hooves, galloping along the plush white snow, the loud clopping and crunch fill your ears as you hold onto the reins. In the distance, you see a large wooden wall with a giant gate, men and women stationed on top, ready to shoot any intruders. One of the men raises a red bandana, a signal to one of the guards on watch.

The large gate opens for all of you, the horses begin to trot at a normal pace as you take in the sight of Jackson. Underneath you are fluffy, cold snow. The sounds of slush fill your ears. You watch as the misty fog escapes your mouth anytime you take a breath. Every time you inhale a frigid prickle enters your lungs and every time you exhale the heat from your breath warms your lips. Around you are naked trees covered in powder-white snow, glistening in the daylight. The town is neatly arranged, and it felt comfortable and safe. You spot the Tipsy Bison on the right, a location you recognized, then bring your eyes to observe the people around you. A thriving and collaborative community, stable enough to provide and care for the elderly and children.

You continue on forward, spotting Tommy on top of the scaffolding, helping with construction work. You angle your head to look at Joel as he shouts at the top of his lungs, “Tommy!” His brother stops what he’s doing to look at Joel, then he proceeds to run down the steps leading up to the scaffolding, Joel urgently dismounts from his horse, and the people around town watch as the two brothers reunite, a large impactful hug from the both of them, secure and firm. Their shoulders move up and down as the two laugh loudly, finally, all of the pieces align and the balance is clearly defined, he sighs and settles down for the first time.

Tommy smiles as he asks his older brother, “What the fuck are you doin’ here?” Joel looks at you and Ellie for a second before back to Tommy, replying, “I came here to save you.” Joel begins to laugh again, his chuckle a melody you’ve rarely heard before, a sound you keep in your back pocket just in case.

You bring your gaze to Ellie, whose expression is mixed and jealous, sensing that she’s now a bit less important in Joel’s life. You look back at the two brothers, turning down the volume of your heart, the massive table of countless dominos, all lined up and weaving in and out of each other, every relationship and decision in every piece of domino, subconsciously shrinking the row of dominos the best you can. Eliminating your opinions or wants and desires, convincing yourself that this will be simple by just focusing on the needs of everyone else but yourself. The only form of control you’ve had looks like empathy to understand all sides.

MESS HALL, JACKSON COUNTY, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The mess hall was large, warm, and inviting. The indistinct chatter fills the giant wooden cabin, lightbulbs twinkling from above, and dining tables lined up neatly. Ellie was sat in between you and Joel, she is scarfing down her food, eagerly eating everything that was on her plate and so was Joel. You were meekly eating, trying to not draw attention to yourself, as you quietly chewed on your potatoes. “There’s more if you need it.” And you soon come to realize that this must be Maria, the way Tommy’s body language is drawn and pulled close to her, you smile when you hear Joel reply politely, “Thank you, ma’am.” And you also offer your thanks to her and she nods in your direction in acknowledgment. Joel cuts into his food as he says, “It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.” Ellie pipes in, “Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal. This is fuckin’ amazing.” You wince in second-hand embarrassment and so does Joel, he turns to Maria, “Sorry. Ellie… let’s mind our manners.” Tommy smirks knowingly. At one moment, another girl furtively looks at Ellie, until Ellie loudly says “What?!” and scares her off. Joel’s lips turn down and his eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What’s wrong with you?” Ellie doesn’t relent, “What about her manners?”

“She was just curious. Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.” Maria points out and Ellie nods, “Right… well, maybe I’ll teach them. And I want my gun back.” Maria shakes her head, “They also aren’t armed.” The young brave girl glares at her in response, Tommy decides to step in, “You know what? Uh… I think maybe ya’ll got a little off on the wrong foot.” Ellie raises her tone and points out, “She was gonna have our guys kill us.” Joel gives her a pointed look, an indication for her to stop being disrespectful but Tommy calmly responds, “Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let in this place. But it’s all bark. We’re just trying to scare off those who might wanna try us is all.” Ellie nonchalantly says, “Well you got a couple of ninety-year-olds who shitting themselves out there.” You and Joel chastise her quickly, “Ellie.” But she doesn’t care, “They say that you leave dead bodies around?” Maria doesn’t deny the ugly truth, “Those are the people who tried us.” Tommy adds, “A bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad.” Maria narrows her eyes at Joel as she comments, “Not always, at least.” You feel your anger flare up from your chest as you grip your knife tighter, glaring at Maria for suggesting such a thing.

Joel swallows down his food and his shame, “Ma’am… we’re grateful for your hospitality and all. But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.” You place an elbow on the table, using your hand to hide your face in embarrassment as you squirm in your chair, you hear Tommy clear his throat, “Well um…” You peek past your hand and watch him grab Maria’s hand, spotting the wedding band on his left ring finger, “Maria is family, actually.” Ellie blinks in surprise as she says, “Oh, shit! Congrats.” You bring your eyes to Joel’s unmoving figure, frozen in shock from the sudden news as his breathing becomes unsteady, Ellie softly whispers to him, “Joel, say congrats.” The all-too-familiar cold tone is unmistakable as he grits his teeth to say, “Congrats.” There’s an awkward silence between the two parties, and you take a large gulp of your water and Tommy offers, “How ‘bout a tour.” You nod as you’re the first one to get up from your chair, not liking the possibility of conflict between the two brothers, “Yes, please.”

JACKSON, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The town had a large plaza, and a giant vibrant Christmas tree in the center, Maria spoke as she walked, and the rest of you followed, “We settled here about seven years ago. Just a handful of us back then.” She points out a section of the town, “That section was already a gated community, so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still find pockets of them.” Joel warily looks around, “And you said Infected?” Tommy nods, “Yeah, but usually in smaller colonies, wandered off from the cities. All this open country out there… it’s a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub MOA. Can headshot those fuckers from half a mile out.”

“Can you teach me how?” Ellie asks and Joel is quick to respond for him, “No, he can’t. How do you keep this place quiet?” Maria replies, “Carefully. Being in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio.” Joel stares at his brother and Tommy shrinks away from his pointed look, you listen to Maria as she explains the purpose of each building, “House of worship, multifaith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as a jail, not that we’ve needed it.” Joel looks to one of the electric poles, “And you draw power from the dam?” Maria confirms his suspicion, nodding, “Got that workin’ a couple years ago. After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters… lights.” Ellie shakes her head, seemingly impressed, “This place actually fuckin’ works.”

The group makes their way to the farm, and a herd of sheep passes by, and Ellie points it out as she smiles at him, “Hey, Joel, check it. Baa.” Ellie playfully swings her arms back and forth as she asks Maria, “Are you, like, in charge?” She looks at Tommy for a bit before replying, “No one person’s in charge. I’m on the council. Democratically elected, serving three hundred people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting.” Tommy picks off where she left off, “Everything you see in our town… greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership,” to which Joel replies, "So, uh, communism." Tommy's knee-jerk reaction is, "Nah. Nah, it ain't like that." His discomfort with the term pulls from over a century of distortion of the fundamental principles of communism. “It is that, literally. This is a commune. We're communists," Maria states modestly, to which Tommy’s discomfort at the thought causes him to stagger a bit, to which you offer, “I can try and explain it later.” Tommy nods in thanks and you give him a reassuring smile.

“No way!” Ellie exclaims as she makes her way to the stables, Maria trails behind her and you follow the two ladies, “That’s our newest one. Couple months old. You wanna pet her?” Ellie’s smile is as bright as the sun and her teeth as white as the snow beneath you, wide and happy, “Yeah, what’s her name?” Ellie asks to which Maria replies, “Shimmer.” Your smile falters a bit, recognizing the name from the second game, but you shake it off, not wanting to keep looking into the future. “Shimmer you’re so beautiful,” Ellie says as she pets the pony gently, completely enamored by her beauty and gentle grace. Maria turns to Tommy and discusses the possible sleeping arrangement, “Well, I’m sure they’d like a shower, some new clothes. We can put them in the empty house across the street from us.” Her husband nods in agreement, “Yeah. It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since the ‘03, but it’s got the heat goin’ in it. Could do worse.” Ellie carelessly remarks, “Oh, trust me, we have been.”

Joel has his eyes narrowed and annoyed, “We’ve been doin’ fine.” You get the slight feeling he’s being defensive, and Maria looks at you and Ellie, and tells her husband, “Well I’ll take her and Ellie over there if you two wanna catch up.” Tommy then looks to his older brother for approval and Joel nods, “Yeah. Okay.” You and Ellie whip your head to face Joel, slightly unnerved and fearful of the unknown, and potentially Joel pushing you both away. “Joel.” Ellie says and he brushes her off as he walks away, “You’ll be fine.” Maria asks the both of you, “Shall we?” And having no choice but to follow her you both nod, “Uh, yeah.”

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The warm hot shower soothes your skin as you wash off the grime and dirt of the last few months. At some point, you had decided to sit down in the bathtub of the shower, letting the water hit your skin freely, your eyes distant and gaze unsteady as you watch the steam of the shower move to the light. You hug your knees close to your chest, rest your chin on your knees, and finally let yourself go.

The haze takes over your vision, a sculpture of water and unsettled dust, and your exhausted mind only wants to be carried home. So you fight with the concept of grace while attempting to hold everything in place. You were so full of life that you could barely hold it in. You were amateurs at war, strangers to suffering. Your questions ricochet like broken satellites. How did your bodies, born to heal, become so prone to die? Your nights have grown so long and now you beg for sound advice, time has been ruthless and unkind, every turn in the corner of the maze only to be faced with a dead end, the trapdoors you couldn’t see, and the lives that were lost to your journey to Jackson. You felt so vulnerable and fragile, the fact that the foundation of society was shaken to its core due to the pandemic, governments, families, and lives as you know them, will never be the same again. As life replayed, you hear the voice in the back of your mind proclaim, to let the brokenness be felt until you reach the other side.

The sting in your eyes as the tears escape from your eyes, allows for the cold embrace of the depression you’ve kept hidden and at bay for so long. Sometimes you pretend you are evergreen and keep your cards close to your chest. But this time you allow yourself the reprieve, as you quietly sob into your hands and gasp for air now and then, letting every little fracture of you shatter out loud. Wondering if your messes mattered and if all the chaos counted as you felt empty-handed. You had set sail along the universe's ocean of the unknown with cheap wood and tried to patch up every leak that you could until the blame grew too heavy.

You reflected on the world that you were unintentionally placed in, presenting the world through a different lens, a world that turned hostile and dangerous. But a story that explored how nevertheless you can still find love and meaning, the longing for human connections, and how willing you are to sacrifice everything to safeguard the people you love.

You hadn’t planned on it, the greater weight of the truth settling inside of you. Fundamental resilience and a built-in resistance, and against your judgment, prevent you from completely surrendering yourself from truly giving up on being human. You open your eyes and slowly rise to your feet, placing your palm on the wall, you blink and try to look past the undefined and fragile promise at the light at the end of the tunnel. You nod, shakily you breathe, and whisper to no one in particular, “I guess that’s how it goes.”

After the mental breakdown in the shower, you stepped out of the bathroom fresh and felt a little bit lighter. You lift your chin a little higher and open your eyes a little wider despite the puffiness in your eyes. You are wrapped in a towel, and as you make your way to the foot of the bed, you find fresh clean clothes to wear and a menstrual cup. You smile at the thoughtful gift and find a note, that reads ‘I’m just across the street. Come by when you’re done.’

You get dressed and make your way down the hall to Ellie’s room, you knock on her door and call for her, “Ellie? You there?” When no reply came, you slowly opened the door to find her gone and after investigating a little bit, you see a similar note from Maria. You figured she had already gone over. You leave her room and walk across the street to Maria’s house, knocking on the door and Ellie opening the door for you. You smile at her as you walk inside, appreciating the warmth already provided by the fireplace.

You take a good look at the living room, yellow curtains by the window, a messy coffee table with an unsolved crossword, and a large cozy couch facing the fireplace as it crackles and roars. Your eyes catch the small blackboard sitting on top of the fireplace with two candles on each side. Ellie walks over to it and you follow closely behind her as she stares up at the two names. Kevin and Sarah, with the dates, that they were born and taken away too soon from this world.

You let out an uneven exhale and feel your frown deepen, as the flashbacks of Joel’s life come back to you in a blur. The scream for mercy, watching him tear apart with each cry and wail from his hoarse voice. The day the world ended was the same day his world ended. Something broken that cannot be fixed. You both turn your heads to the sound of the back door opening, Maria enters bringing the cold wind with her until she closes the door behind her, “Oh, good. Just traded for these two. Go ahead, try it on.” She hands Ellie a deep purple long coat while yours is A sophisticated medium gray with the barest hint of violet. The young girl comments as she wears her purple puffer coat, “It’s, uh, super fuckin’ purple.” You bend down a little to help Ellie with her coat, fixing the collar and the lining, Maria nods, “Eggplant. It fits?” Ellie replies, “Yeah.” Maria continues to fuss over her as you put on your coat, “Shoes aren’t too big?” She answers, “Uh, no. Where’s our other stuff?” Maria lifts her shoulders, “Rag pile. Did you both get the thing I left you?” You merely nod while Ellie bluntly replies, “Yeah. Weirdest gift ever.” Maria nods in agreement but says, “But useful. Who’s been cutting your hair?”

“Uh, world-class salons,” Ellie says plainly and it earns a laugh from you and Maria, “Let me get my scissors.” Ellie’s mouth opens to protest but Maria doesn’t let her argue, “Trim. That’s all. Just the ends, I promise. And her too, she’ll go first so you can see that you have nothing to worry about.” Referring to you as she walks to the kitchen. You ruffle Ellie’s hair and whisper to her, “Just let her,” to which she sighs and takes a seat on one of the dining table chairs.

The trim was much needed. Maria had cut your hair in the style you wanted with such precision and skill. You happily thanked her with a polite smile, sat down on one of the other chairs, and let Ellie go next, of course, Ellie being the curious kid she is, begins to interrogate Maria, “So, this was, like, your job back then or something?” The sharp snips of scissors fill the silence for a bit before she answers, “No, I was an Assitant District Attorney out of Omaha, Nebraska. I put the bad guys in jail. I always liked doing hair though. Maybe it was a mom thing.”

“Damn, that’s pretty impressive.” You said and she gives you her thanks and asks, “What did you do for work?” Your smile falters, “Um, I used to be a researcher, a Quantum physicist.” The quiet was nice for a moment before she comments, “You both were looking at the little memorial Tommy made?” Ellie answers for the both of you, “Uh, yeah.” She stumbles on her words, “I’m- I’m sorry about your kids.” Your nails dig into your palm and listen to Maria reply, “It’s okay. And kid. Just Kevin. Sarah was Joel’s daughter.”The heavy silence that follows tells Maria that Ellie didn’t know that before, and you find it harder to breathe, “Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s okay. I guess that explains him a little,” Ellie says and she brings her eyes to you, “Did you know?” You squirm, the feeling of deja vu from when you first heard those words from Joel, the accusatory glance, and the betrayal in her eyes. “Yes,” You said and she scoffs at you, “Why? Why didn’t you say anything?” You pull back and raise your eyebrows at her, “You and I both know that was never my story to tell or share. No amount of knowledge will ever excuse the fact that I can never talk about what happened without Joel’s explicit consent.” Ellie resigns from her lashing out and nods at you with understanding, and you simply sighed. Maria chimes in, “Look, I’m not gonna ask you what you both are doing with him.”

“Good.” You and Ellie say at the same time, quickly protective of Joel but Maria continues with her statement, “But there are clearly things you both don’t know about Joel.” You glare at Maria while the teen remains typically testy, “Oh, like how he used to kill people? We know about that.” Ellie rebukes with vigor and impresses Maria with it somewhat, “So then you understand my concern.” Ellie’s anger flares, “He doesn’t do that anymore.” And Maria is quick to question, “He stopped killing people?”

“Innocent ones. And Tommy did it, too. Are you worried about him?” she asks to which Maria’s lips form a thin line, “Tommy was following Joel. The way you both are.” Seemingly sees Joel as a bad influence, someone who pulls people into his orbit and leaves harm in his wake. “Well, maybe, we’re smarter than Tommy. No offense.” Ellie states and you sense distrust in Maria, “You are definitely smart. Both of you. You would have made a hell of a lawyer, Ellie.” The woman says as she puts away her scissors and stands in front of you and Ellie, “There’s a whole lot you’re not telling me.” None of you answer, to which Maria nods, “Good. Therein lies the point. Be careful who you put your faith in,” she warns you and Ellie. “The only people who can betray us… are the ones we trust.” Ellie clearly resents the advice and Maria’s distrust of Joel, perhaps because she senses there’s a good reason for it and none of you want to admit it.

“You understand?” Maria asks and you both hum in acknowledgment. “Now come on.” She says as she walks to remove the towel around Ellie’s shoulders, “Grab your super fuckin’ eggplant coat.” You allow yourself to laugh at the callback and get up from your own seat, shuffling to put on your gray coat to which you hear Ellie ask, “Where are we going?” Maria smiles, “The movies.” Ellie sighs and ties her hair back, while you say, “I’m actually gonna go for a walk. Get familiar with the surroundings. You okay to go by yourself, Ellie?” The brave teen nods, “Mhm. I’ll see you back at the house.”

“Tell me what you think of the movies later, okay?” You say and she smiles and agrees, “Okay.” You tuck your hands in the pockets of your coat, yelling a thank you and goodbye to Maria as you headed outside to the cold winter of Jackson.

MAIN STREET

JACKSON, WYOMING – SUNSET

You tried your best to help around as much as you could with the stables and the children, doing some work to pass the time. The clouds collected again around sunset, bringing an earlier night, and the snow began to fall straight and slowly from a sky devoid of wind, in a gentle universal dispersion more perplexing than the morning's blasts. It appeared to be a part of the growing darkness, the cold night itself falling on you layer by layer.

The amber glow of the string lights, the burn barrels doing their best to keep parts of the area warm, the steam following the wind but the bright glow of the fire emitting from inside shine through. Most people at this hour have already decided to go to the dining hall to watch the rest of the movie, but you continued to wander around the empty main street of Jackson.

The world is an outline of shapes you used to know, hidden in plain sight. The drapes suddenly pulled back slowly, as though pulling a ribbon. You've been distracted, but you're no longer trapped in the static. Despite the fact that your hands are prone to trial and error, you cross your fingers for anything to hold. Here in the shadows of letting go, you can't help but wish for a brighter future. You spot Ellie from a distance, her figure crouched down as she eavesdrops through the door of a nearby workshop. You tilt your head and quietly walk towards her, to which she still turns her head to you, lifting her finger on her lips indicating to be quiet. You decide to follow her request and crouch next to her, hearing Tommy and Joel quietly conversing with each other.

Joel started, “It was Marlene. She hired us to smuggle her to some Fireflies. It went bad. Tess got bit. She made me swear to take the kid. It was her dyin’ wish. What the hell was I supposed to do? We made it as far as K.C., and then… You know she saved my life there… from another kid. Birdie got hurt too… Five years ago, I would’ve destroyed him. But she had to shoot him to save me. Fourteen years old. Because I was too slow and too fuckin’ deaf to hear him comin’.” You shudder at the reminder and the two of you listened as Joel broke, bit by bit, his voice started to quiver, “And Birdie had to protect Ellie 'cause I asked her to… and she didn’t even have the experience or skill that I had… I saw… I saw a man kill his own brother… to save her, while I just watched. And today I thought that dog was gonna tear both of ‘em apart because it smelled somethin’ on them.”

“And all I did was stand there. I couldn’t… move. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just… I was so afraid.” Joel’s breathing was ragged as he spoke, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios, “You think I can handle things, but… I’m not who I was. I’m weak.” He believes he bears little resemblance to the man he once was or could become. No action hero, he admits to being far less capable of recognizing and reacting to threats than he used to be, and to sometimes being paralyzed by fear. You slowly start to feel your eyes sting again as you hear the tremble in his voice, the brokenness you’re all too familiar with, “Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and… my heart… feels like it’s stopped. And I have dreams. Every night.”

“What kinda dreams?” Tommy asks, and you listen to the triggered tripwire every time he breathes, the tremble in his voice gives you that he was beginning to cry, “I don’t know. I can’t remember. I just know that when I wake up… I’ve lost somethin’.” You allow your own tears to fall, covering your mouth to cover your whimpers as you listen to him admit, “I’m failin’ in my sleep. That’s all I do. It’s all I’ve ever done is fail them again and again.” Tommy states, “You want me to take them.” And Joel continues to cry as he says, “I’m just gonna get them killed. I know it. I have to leave them.” Tommy tries to call his name to calm him, “Joel.”

“I mean, it’s why you took off on me, right? To make up for the things we did?” Joel asks with a clear glaze in his eyes, he begs his younger brother, “Well, here’s your chance to bring your kid into a better world. You’re younger than me. You’re still strong. You said it yourself, you’ll come back. You have to take her. You have to give Birdie… that sweet, smark, and kind girl, a chance to live a life here. A normal life here. Please.”

You take Tommy’s silence as agreement and the tears fall from your cheeks as you try to muffle your cries. Joel breathes, “And you can’t tell anyone, not even Maria. Tommy, you’re the only one I trust. If anyone else sees those bites on her, on them both, what’s under their skin… they’ll shoot them. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you. I swear.”

“I’ll take her out at dawn.” You hear Tommy say and Joel sigh of relief. You feel Ellie tug your coat sleeve, indicating you need to leave before they realized you had heard the entire conversation.

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – NIGHT

None of you spoke as the two of you walk into the night, heading back to the temporary house that they had provided. You opened the door for Ellie and she ran straight up to her room, while you walked up the steps to the master bedroom. You quietly shut your door sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, you sniffed and try to will yourself to stop crying. You stared blankly at the floor as you swung your feet, patiently waiting and deciding what to do next.

The options you had were limited to figuring out how to get back to your previous observable universe or facing the truth about how you felt for Joel and your fondness for Ellie as if she were your own daughter. This meant admitting that you also needed to discuss what you wanted with Joel. To wake up and wage war with this gravity that has been holding you back for almost all of your life, the epiphany of finding so much worth fighting for, and either way all the lines of dominos will fall and cascade.

You were too in your head to hear the shouting from across the hall, the argument between Joel and Ellie, a crucial turning point in the central relationship. You hear the bits and pieces of their yelling and arguing, “You have no idea what loss is,” is a pretty awful thing for him to say. And in both, she tells him that everyone she’s ever cared about has either died or left her, “Everyone—fucking except for you. So don’t tell me that I would be safer with someone else because the truth is that I would just be more scared.” Joel’s painful response, “You’re right, you’re not my daughter, and I sure as hell ain’t your dad.” You flinch at that, “Now, come dawn… we’re goin’ our separate ways.” Then you hear the loud slamming of the door of Ellie’s room, and your own frown deepens, you feel your heart race, as if you feel the climb of the track of the rollercoaster, building you up and then taking you back. It’s a while before Joel decides to go to the bedroom, he had decided to sit in the living room to remember Sarah one last time before letting her go.

You anticipate Joel’s footsteps, the thud of each step, and hear your door open. Joel finds you sitting at the edge of the bed, hunched over, your hands shaking in your lap as you try and hold yourself together. The quiet dim glow of the yellow lamp by the bedside table illuminates your features. You don’t look at him as he calls your name, you choose to look at the floor, he tries again, softer, “Birdie…” You only blink in response, the only indication that you heard him at all, you hear him step a little closer to you, “How much did you hear?” In a barely audible response, you shakily whisper, “All of it.”

Joel began, “Birdie… it’s for the best if we–” You cut him off before he could even finish, sharply turning your head at him as you stood up, “Joel I can’t… I can’t keep doing this.” He feels breathless as he registers what you said, “What?” You blink back the tears and try to look him in the eye, a little more alive as you let the scale tip and feel all of it rushing through you like a restless river stream, you feel your chest expand as you breathe and say, “If you don’t want me… if you don’t feel anything for me. Just say it and tell me now and I’ll figure out how to get back home on my own. ‘Cause I can’t keep going like this… dancing around you and pretending I don’t have feelings for you.”

You shake your head, “I’ve spent my whole life asking and searching for the impossible and none of it made any sense to me… And then I… I found you and Ellie. For the first time, I felt whole.” Your hand clenches near your chest as you utter, “Was I just delusional or imagining things? ‘Cause all of this… push and pull is hurting me. Do you even want me?” Joel steps a little closer as he says, “Yes.” And you look up at him and take one step back, “Then… why? And don’t you fucking dare make it an age-gap excuse or I will kick you in the balls Miller.”

He stumbles over his words, “I’m afraid. I’m so, so, afraid Birdie. That I could fail to protect you, Sweet Girl. The light that you give, the kindness you’ve shown, I’m scared I might taint it. Take away something so good in this world. You deserve so much more than what I could give.” Your face pinches in frustration and tears fall down your face, your cheeks warm and eyes puffy from all the sobbing, “Don’t I get a say?” And he’s quick to tell you, “Of course you do.” You scoff and angrily wipe your eyes. You pause and take a good look at the man in front of you, it's a fire and a goddamn blaze in the dark and he started it, you say from across the room, “Then let me choose you, Joel. Please, please, don’t leave me here.” He’s quiet as he takes in your words, and you continue, it’s uncomfortable but right, you say, “I don’t care about what was written about in your history. In the end, I want more than the life that I choose, and I want it to be with you.”

The silence that fills the room is one of heaviness and anticipation. The churning fear that pours out of you, and the inheritance you did not seek or ask for. You watch as Joel breathes heavily at your confession, taking his time to process what you said and felt for him. Someone who he deemed no longer worthy of receiving love. Slowly, you show him who he is and who he could be, and try to initiate the heart, bringing himself to let it open up properly. All of a sudden, you changed his mind and pulled back the curtains a little at a time.

You were on a frequency, the perfect opposite of him. Though he never needed any proof to trust the heart that beats inside of you. He can't keep his head from spinning out of control, but he will try to breathe ‘til it becomes muscle memory. He’s only steady on his knees, but maybe with you, he’ll one day stand on his own two feet. To struggle gracefully and let the scaffolding inside of him be strong enough to hold his tired body up once more.

He licks his bottom lip out of nervousness, and directly looks you in the eye, “I want you, Birdie.” You feel the rush of heat through your body, and stutter, “W-What?” His gaze darkens as he looks at you with need and desire, seemingly made up his mind to just give in, to let himself want and need you. “I said, I want you Birdie. Will you be mine?” He takes a step closer to you and you stay frozen, eventually, he’s towering over your frame, his eyes so dark you can no longer see the honey-brown eyes you were familiar with. You can’t help it. You’re drawn in by the force and pressure of the tempest building in those damnable eyes. Your heart is loud as a drumline, the thumping noise and heat in your ears as you feel the magnetic pull into his warmth, you feel his breath against your lips as you whisper, “Yes.”

That’s all it took, and with slow deliberation looks at you up and down. His inspection seems to last for hours, though it must take only seconds. The air between you crackles, and you want to move toward him, to close the gap between you. But you stay rooted to the spot, waiting for him. He lingers for a moment on your lips before finally lifting his head to meet your eyes, and his lips meet yours. You didn’t grow up, we grew in, like ivy wrapping, molding each other into perfect yins and yangs. You kissed with mouths open, breathing his exhale into your inhale. You could have survived underwater or outer space, breathing only the breath you traded.

You felt his warm rough large hands bring one hand to your waist and the other to cup the side of your cheek as he kissed you. You felt the tickle of his facial hair on your cheek, and each breath and groan vibrated throughout your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers rhythmically through his salt-and-pepper hair. Happily sighing breathlessly as he continues to kiss you dizzy. Like a whiskey, you can feel it he hits so strong but tastes so sweet.

The rush and thrill consumed you, the slick wetness between your thighs and his hands moving to cup and grab at your ass causing you to gasp in pleasure, to which Joel decides to pull your bodies closer ‘til no space lies in between. His presence was too powerful, his scent too all-consuming. It crowded your lungs, filling them with clean earthiness and rich spices. When you were around him, it was easy to lose myself, no matter how upset you were.

When he carefully dropped himself to the ground, the movement was both proud and obedient. His breath brushed over your skin. “Do you want this?” His fingers ran down the back of your leg, leaving a path of heat in their wake. Your thoughts were jumbled, but you had enough sense to realize this wasn't about sex. It was all about being vulnerable. It was a landmark event disguised as insignificant and distilled into one phrase. “Yes.” That was both demand and submission, a groan and a gasp. Joel exhaled. He carried you to the plush bed in the center of the room, appreciating everything you could give him. Clothes were quickly removed, and he stripped you down to your barest form while he kept his boxers on, an evident hard-on showing but choosing to take care of you first.

His palms burned as they parted your thighs. He’d barely touched you, and you were already on fire. You tipped your head back, drowning in arousal, heat, and lust and the reverence of his touch as he kissed his way up your thigh. His stubble rasped against your skin and sent tiny shocks of pleasure down your spine. As he separated your thighs, his palms seared. He hadn't even touched you yet, but you were still immediately burning. As he nibbled his way up your thigh, you threw your head back, reveling in pleasure, heat, lust, and the devotion of his touch.

“I'm sorry I offended you…” A gentle kiss at the fine line where your thigh meets your leg and persistent heat. “For attempting to drive you away…” Your underwear was removed and tossed to the side as he softly stroked your clit with his tongue. When he dragged your clit into his lips and sucked, his abrasive words mingled with your scream. Your body arched away from the bed. He began to worship you with his lips, hands, and tongue as your hands dug into his hair and you could barely hang on. Joel was rigid but beckoning. Delicate but sinful. You felt a new rush of pure sensation with every movement. Your chest and the base of your spine are both under pressure at the same time. You were soaring high solely on passion and desire, out of breath. He backed away and lightly touched your delicate clit with his teeth. He inserted two fingers into you and plunged and curled them as you wilted carelessly.

Your body was familiar to him. Knew precisely what you wanted, how to operate it like a well-tuned guitar, and even what buttons to press and where to press them. He stroked your G-spot while simultaneously pressing his thumb into your clit. When Joel stood up, his chest heaving, the strain was dizzying as your orgasms ripped through you and your moans were still echoing in the air. He gently kissed your lips as he leaned forward on top of you, bracing his hands on each side of your head.

When you kissed him and cherished the flavor of the kiss, leisurely threads of need twisted inside you. Like desperation flavored with desire and soothed with compassion, robust and rich. You explored and licked the inside of his mouth as you panted. He moaned in hunger and want, “Birdie…” Your hands roamed, your hearts pounding in sync and your kisses growing in intensity until the heat became too much to bear.

He took off his boxers and you flipped both of you over with the help of gravity, and you gradually sank into him, taking him in, inch by inch until he was buried deep inside of you. Hitting deeper, and tasting sweeter. You rocked against Joel as his hands held onto your hips. A delightful pressure swelled inside of you, rising higher and higher until your head was distorted with lust. Sweat misted your skin. Moans filled the air. He was certainly straining to hold back, but he made no move to take control as you both experienced toe-curling orgasms at the same time. When Joel brought you down for a kiss, the second, smaller climax that the overpowering intimacy of the moment had triggered was still reverberating through you.

Your eyes are half-lidded as you pull away from the kiss and look at Joel, who’s heavily panting, breathless, and in awe of you. Joel flips you both over, and your back hits the mattress. He kisses you again, still, inside of you, you are still sensitive from your previous orgasm and cry out, “I can’t…” He pants and groans, “Yes you can sweet girl. You can do it. One more for me Birdie.” He’s hitting deeper and quicker as you try to squirm away from him but all he does is pin you down, grabbing your hands to lock them above your head, causing you to scream and cry out in pleasure. “You’re doing so well. You’re such a good girl.” He praises, and everything feels and sounds amplified, every thrust his hips make, the sounds of slick wet skin slapping together, each grunt and moan mixing and blending between you both finally brings you and him over the edge. He pulls out and paints your stomach while you clench and moan throughout your release.

He folds over atop you, his weight is a welcoming feeling, like a large protective blanket. You’re running your fingers through his hair as he continues to catch his breath and you hum happily, “You good cowboy or do you need a wheelchair?” He grunts, “Haven’t done that in a while. Cut the man some slack.” You laugh loudly and kiss the side of his forehead and he sighs with contentment. After a while, he rolls off of you, pulling you closer to his side, peppering your neck and cheek with kisses, “I’m goin’ to get a clean towel to clean us up.” You nod as he gets up, walks over to the bathroom, comes back with a clean rag, and wipes off the slick between your thighs and stomach.

He sets the cloth aside and climbs back in bed with you, tossing the blanket over both of your bodies, gripping your hips, and pulling you close. You kiss him again, just because you can and both of you are smiling widely at each other. You take a deep breath and close your eyes as you place your forehead on top of his, and Joel grumbles, “I should have pulled out earlier.” To which you yawn, “I have an IUD, it’ll expire in ten years.” Joel’s mouth opens, “You have a… oh right.” You laugh, “Yep. So I can keep riding you, my cowboy.” He smacks your ass and kisses you again as you yelp in surprise, “Keep talkin’ like that and we’re not gonna get any sleep tonight.” You roll your eyes in response but smile up at him.

The quiet between you two is comforting and allows you to rest your eyes, no awkwardness, just a blistering moment of peace. The night sky once ruled your imagination and you used to turn the dials with careful calculation. After a while, you thought you'd never find him and convinced yourself that you would never find him.

Then suddenly, he saw you through telescopes and calculations, the far was pulled so near. You opened your eyes to find yourself under his warm gaze, trying to memorize every feature as if you were constellations in the night sky. But the looming threat that hangs over you makes an appearance in the dark corner of the back of your mind, you whisper, “Joel.” He hums in acknowledgment and you continue, “You should give Ellie a choice. She also has every right to choose too.” He’s quiet for a moment before he sighs agreeing, “Yeah… Been thinking about it a while ago before you jumped my bones.” You smack his shoulder, “I did not!” To which he kisses you breathlessly, “I’ll give her the choice tomorrow.” You nod and cup the side of his face and he says to you so quietly, “We have a long way to go.” To which your eyes softened and kissed the tip of his nose, “Yes, but look how far we’ve come.”

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – EARLY MORNING

In the morning you don’t say it as both of you wake up to your bodies closely tangled with each other. His heavy arms are wrapped around your waist and his legs are inserted with yours as he kisses the back of your neck. Continuing to worship your entire being. You both had woken up early, sharing the water in the shower, to which you had both agreed you needed to save water, but it was just an excuse to keep touching each other.

By the time you both got out of the hot shower, you both got dressed and made your way to the stables. The chirping of birds brings you to smile at yourself as you brush your horse, preparing to leave. “You came here to say goodbye or something?” Ellie asks the both of you, causing you to look away from the task and tilt your head and smirk as Joel replies, “No. We came here to steal the horses and go.” To which Tommy says, “I woulda given you them.” And Joel replies with, “I know,” He sniffs and walks to Ellie before continuing, “Anyway… that was thirty minutes ago, and I guess… you deserve a choice. I still think you’d be better off with Tommy…” It’s no surprise that Ellie shoves her bag at Joel, “Let’s go.” He blinks and you laugh as he answers, “Okay.”

Both of you exit the stables with your horses, Joel helps Ellie mount his horse and you mount your own horse. “General direction?” Joel asks his brother, “Head southeast til you hit I-25. It’s right off the interstate. Shouldn’t be hard to miss.” He nods at Tommy before they both pull each other into a hug. They pull away and Tommy says, “There’s a place for you here… All three of you.” Joel gruffly says, “Countin’ on it.” And he spots Tommy’s rifle swung across his shoulder, “Can I borrow that?” Tommy nods, “Yeah.” But Joel continues to talk, “‘Cause Maria took mine.” Tommy throws him a look, “I already said yes, Joel. Adios, big brother.”

The large wooden gate’s latch is lifted open as your two horses trot through the snow. Exiting the safe, gated, community of Jackson. Your journey continues through the wilderness of Wyoming. The cold chilly air creates goosebumps at the back of your neck as you ride your horse past the tall emerald-green trees.

After a couple of hours of riding, Joel decides to teach Ellie how to shoot with the rifle. The sound of loud gunshots rings out as Ellie misses the main target. She sighs and Joel comments, “Wide right. You’re flinchin’.” You stand behind the two, enjoying the view of Joel and Ellie having some time together. Ellie shakes her head at him, denying, “The target’s too small.” Joel harrumphs at her, “I made it bigger than I should’ve. Eject the cartridge.” She does as she is told, and said, “I am not flinching.” Joel hums, “Mm-mhm.” Ellie doesn’t let up, “The rifle just sucks.”

“Okay, give it,” Joel said and Ellie gives it to him and whines, “It doesn’t aim right.” Joel only hums again, “Mm-hmm.” And Ellie frowns as she lifts her binoculars, “You’ll see.” They swap places and Joel grunts as he adjusts the rifle, “A deep breath in, slow breath out.” The girl sighs and Joel glances behind him to look at you, “You squeeze the trigger like you love it.” Your face warms at the memory of what happened last night and what he could be insinuating. You try to hide your smile, he winks at you and then looks to the scope, his voice getting deeper, “Gentle… steady… nice and slow.” Ellie drops her binoculars and groans, “You gonna shoot this thing or get Birdie pregnant? ‘Cause holy shit you guys were loud.” You choke on air at the same time Joel looks at Ellie shamelessly before looking back at the scope with his finger on the trigger. Ellie shakes her head, continuing to be in denial, “It isn’t gonna work. It doesn’t aim right.” A gunshot rings out, and it's a perfect headshot. “You dick.” Ellie says while Joel just smirks smugly and turns to look at you, “Birdie would know.” You throw your head and hands up in exasperation, “I fuckin’ can’t with you two.”

Wind bustled through the branches of the trees, making the leaves howl in their symphony. The horses trot through the snow, as the three of you make your way to the University of Eastern Colorado. The silence is no longer present, only filled by Ellie’s questions and Joel's answers. You occasionally input your own thoughts and ideas, correcting Joel when needed, but otherwise, you let yourself watch them form a connection that Joel was so afraid of.

“So the way they ran stuff in Jackson, was how things used to be?” Ellie asked, and Joel replies, “No. The country was too big for that. Back then, there were basically two main ways of lookin’ at things. Some people wanted to own everything. And some people didn’t want anyone to own anything at all.” Ellie hums, “Which one were you?” And you hear Joel reply, “Neither. I just did my job.” To which you chuckled, knowing that Joel has always tried to stay neutral in anything, it’s more efficient that way.

“Which was… building?” Ellie asks, and Joel confirms her guess, “That’s right. Houses, stores, that kinda thing. We were called ‘contractors’.” The teen mocks his voice, trying to deepen it, “The contractor. That’s pretty cool.” Joel smiles, his lips quirking a bit to the right, “Yeah. We were cool. Everybody loved contractors.” You rolled your eyes at Joel, letting him off the hook and not wanting to correct him at all.

The days go by and you three have been closer than ever. Joel and Ellie discuss the basics and rules of football while you hum to yourself the new song stuck in your head. Enjoying the sight of Joel and Ellie laughing and smiling over mundane topics, feeling your heart more full than ever before. A part of you that had been missing so long, a family you didn’t even know existed, a family you now found.

Further down the road, you pass by the sign indicating to take the I-25. “Well, how ‘bout that? Made it in five days.” Ellie adds, “Easy days. I don’t know what Tommy was so afraid of.” Joel’s mouth curls downwards, “Still time to find out.” To which Ellie mimics his baritone voice, “Still time to find out,” she then creepily whispers, “The Contractorrrr.”

The horses snort and huff as its hooves clop and trot on the pavement of the road. You make your way to the entrance of the deserted university, Ellie says aloud, “Home of the Big Horns. What does that mean?” And you answer, “It was their team mascot. It’s a kind of sheep.” Ellie smiles up at Joel, “Oh, see? One step closer to your dream. Don’t see any Fireflies, though.” He forms a hypothesis, “They’re probably in the middle. Safer.” He nods and leads, “This way.”

Joel has his rifle ready with one hand on the reins. The campus is eerily empty and quiet as your horses trot on the grounds. “So these places… people would live here and, like, what? Got to classes and stuff?” And you nod, “Yup. Sometimes even do research, like me.” She points out, “Even though they were adults.” Yours and Joel’s voices blended together as he answered, “Sort of adults.” While you said, “They were fake adulting.”

“I think it was just as much about partying and findin’ themselves as anythin’ else. Figuring what they wanted to do with their lives.” Joel plainly puts, and Ellie chuckles, “What they wanted to do with their lives.” To your happy surprise, your ears perk up when Joel says, “So I’ve been thinkin’.” You and Ellie urge him to continue, “I don’t want a sheep ranch, actually. I mean, if the deal is I can do anything?” And Ellie nods, “That’s the deal.” He faces the road ahead with a gaze so soft you barely recognized him, “Well… when I was a kid, I wanted to be a singer.” Ellie laughs while you smile widely at him, teeth showing and cheeks pinched upwards, the kid says, “Shut up.” While you say, “Come on Cowboy, let’s hear it. Serenade me.”

“No, you’re both already laughin’.” He grumpily replies, his eyebrows knitted together, and both you and Ellie protest, “Well, you’re singing for me later. I’m gonna save the fuckin’ world, man. It’s the least you could do for me.” Joel relents, “Fair enough. Birdie, what about you? Have you changed your dream yet?”

You smiled at the two people you’d gotten close with over the past few months, the unlikely bond you now were a part of, “I have everything I need right here, what else would I need to dream about?” you said. The two of them looked at you, wide-eyed and breathless at your statement. How funny it is to think, we only notice light when darkness crashes against it. The melody you carry is the strength while they come undone and the aftermath that makes them new.

Content with your answer, you trot forward with your horse and you three stumble upon a troop of monkeys that presumably escaped from a lab, Ellie exclaims excitedly, “Are those monkeys?” The troop proceeds to run away as Joel says, “Must be from the old labs.” The young girl laughs, “Look at them go.” Joel glances at her and asks, “First time seein’ a monkey?” Ellie parrots as a reply, “First time seein’ a monkey.”

“Lookit.” Joel points out to spot a Firefly symbol, “Here we go.” Ellie says, and your head in the direction of the research lab. As you arrive at what looks to be the entrance to the lab, “Guard stations.” Ellie states and Joel hums, “Mhm. No guards.” Ellie is unnerved and wary, she asks to take out her gun, and Joel allows it.

You dismount your horse and tie it to the tree, Joel and Ellie do the same. You arm yourselves as you walk inside the lab. The sound of your footsteps echoes in the deserted building, you look to the ground to see documents and masks littering the concrete floor. “There were definitely doctors here,” Ellie says looking at the test tubes and you spot a brown file on top of the metal trolly. You lift the cover of the folder, peeking at the papers, your eyes skimming over the words while lifting up the yellow sheet of paper, “This is a packing list. They moved out of here.” Ellie’s eyebrows furrow, “They just left?”

And on cue you hear the sound of metal clanging from upstairs, your heads whip up in the direction of the noise, and Ellie remarks, “Maybe not all of them.” Joel takes the lead as you make your way up the stairs, hearing the clanging sound getting louder. Joel finds the specific door to where the noises were coming from, and he readies his pistol, slowly pushing the door open, slightly creaking as it does, to be followed by a high-pitched screech.

Two monkeys hop out of the room through the window, screeching at you for disturbing them. You all lower your weapons and survey the area. You snort at the fact it was so anti-climactic for nothing, Joel utters, “Well… at least it ain’t Clickers.” And Ellie mumbles, “Yeah, no Fireflies either. Maybe in all that research, they turned into fuckin’ monkeys.” You and Joel sense her disappointment, her need for reformation, and ways she could be better in her mind.

You look through the medical equipment and research notes, trying to look for clues to where the group of researchers transferred. Joel approaches the large wooden corkboard, a map of the United States is on display along with notes pasted on the side. You and Ellie walk up next to Joel to analyze the pins pushed in the lines that trace along the roads leading to the center. “That’s where they went?” Ellie said, pointing out St. Mary's Hospital, located in Salt Lake City, Utah. Joel nods, “All the pins lead there. Maybe gettin’ ahead of the weather… better facilities? I don’t know.” The joy in you vanishes against your will. The light goes out and your heart goes still, and just like that, you believe in ghosts.

But then, the trio hears voices. Looking out the window, Joel sees four men armed with weapons, they were raiders. You were weighed down by dread, the flutter of fear in your stomach causes your palms to sweat and tremble. You needed to get out of here and fast. Joel quietly tells you both, “Out the back.” You run down the steps and find the back door, your guns are drawn as you stealthily make it back to your horses, staying ever vigilant. You’re a few steps away from your horses, Joel turns to you both asking in a hushed tone, “Ready?” And you both nod, “Yeah.”

You run to your own horse while Ellie and Joel untie theirs. Something caught your eye in your peripheral vision, a blur of a shadow, and you turn to see a man carrying a baseball bat, lifting it while running at Joel. Ellie screams his name out while you ran towards the attacker, the baseball bat breaks as he tries to hit you but instead strikes a tree. You didn’t think, you just acted, protecting the two people who kept you safe for the majority of your journey. Shoving him with as much force as you could, the raider hits the tree, and Joel comes to your aid, grabbing the raider to break the man’s neck.

You didn’t even realize it until Joel had turned around, in the struggle, the sharp wooden hilt of the bat is stuck inside his abdomen, blood seeping out through the jacket. Ellie’s eyes grow wide in horror and Joel looks down, and grunts as he pulls out the sharp hilt of the bat, you scream, “No, don’t!” But you were too late, and Ellie yells your name, “Birdie you’re also bleeding!” You look down at your own abdomen to find a large slash across it, the maroon blood dripping on the freshly fallen snow, you direct Ellie, “Get Joel on the horse now. We need to leave before…” You hear yelling from a distance and you aim and shoot at the raiders with one hand as the other clutches your stomach while Ellie helps Joel up and back onto the horse.

You use all the strength that you have and pull yourself up to your horse, following Ellie as she shoots them back with you, she yells, “Get back!” And you three were in time to get away from all the other raiders coming. After a few minutes, you three have managed to make it to a safe distance from the attackers, “They’re not following us, I think we’re safe.” Joel doesn’t reply, and Ellie voices her concern as her voice rises as she says yours and Joel’s name.

He’s the first one to collapse from his horse, and you go toppling down as well. You feel the plush landing of the pile of snow, Ellie immediately comes both to your sides, and she says in distress, “Fuck! Shit, no, no no.” The cold weather mixed with the blood loss you were both dealing with were not the best conditions for either of you. “Joel, Birdie, open your eyes come on.” You bring your tired eyes to the girls and cough out to Ellie, “Place pressure on his abdomen and drag him using his sleeping bag, the rope, and the horse Leave me here and find someplace warm.” Ellie can feel her eyes sting and her vision goes blurry, it feels like bittersweet poetry. You softly grab your hand, “Listen to me. Ellie.” She tries to shake her head but you gritted your teeth, the adrenaline had begun to fade and you were beginning to feel the sharp pain across your stomach, you grunt and squeeze her soft small hands, “Ellie, remember what I asked you to promise? Go. Please, save him.”

It had been a campfire night out in the woods at the university and Joel had fallen asleep again during watch. You had both been talking about mundane things, to your hobbies and what you missed about home, to ask about what her life was like in FEDRA school, at one point you realized that there would be a difficult decision to make and that you needed to prepare her just in case it might occur. You didn’t memorize everything from the game, but you knew damn well there would be a possibility that you and Joel might get injured and Ellie would have to choose.

You grab her hand, abruptly stopping her from her previous sentence, and look her in the eye, “Ellie. There will be a time when you have to choose between me and Joel. In the event we both get badly injured, you need to save Joel, no questions asked.” The teen tries to protest but you silence her, leaving no room for argument, “Joel will protect you better than I ever could, we both know that. You need him more than me, I’ve been alone for almost all of my life… this is nothing new, but you… you are something so special. You must choose Joel for your sake, do you understand?” Ellie’s lips form a thin line, and stubbornly she shakes her head, “No. I’ll save you both. Just you watch.” Your eyes soften at her naiveness and hope, “You can’t save everyone, Ellie. So, I know it’s unfair to ask you this, but I need you to promise me to save him when it comes down to it.” Her eyes begin to water as she reluctantly tells you, “Okay.”

In a voice so broken and vulnerable, you hear Ellie whisper into the cold air as she puts pressure on Joel’s wound and looks at both of you, “I can’t fuckin’ do this without you. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, what the fuck I’m gonna do. Joel, Birdie.” You give her a small smile, “Ellie, sometimes, just getting up and carrying on is brave and magnificent. Keep going, Ellie.” She sniffs and she lets tears slip down her cheeks, you keep smiling as you use the rest of your strength to lift your hand to cup her cheek, wiping away the tears, “It’s okay. It’s okay, Ellie. This was where I was meant to be. Thank you, Ellie, remember that you are loved.”

You feel your vision begins to fade and drop your hand from Ellie’s cheek, letting your head rest on the plush snow, no longer looking at the teen, you tearily look up to feel the snowflakes gently fall on your face. You distantly hear Ellie drag Joel and tie him up on the sleeping bag as a makeshift sled. Your eyelids begin to feel heavy and start to droop, you turn your head to see Joel struggling to open his eyes, seeing your freezing, bleeding-out body staining the white cold snow. Joel cries out your name, pleading, “Birdie. Wait. No. Please…”

You look up at the bright gray sky, blinking and slowly beginning to only hear muffled sounds. Your horse decides to rest next to you, knowing what was about to happen, cuddling your bleeding-out body, and staying with you til the end. You decide that this was the best way to go, protecting and shielding the people you loved as much as you could. So you hum carols softly, as sweet as you know, a prayer that our burdens will lift as you go.

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter

END NOTES:

AGAIN MY BAD FOR THE HUGGGEEE DELAY – I 1000% blame the jet lag since I just flew out to somewhere on the East Coast! Sorry, ya’ll! T^T (Also the fuckin 5 hours of sleep, I am running on fumes rn)

YAY YOU KISSED AND SLEPT TOGETHER WOW GOOD JOB

UR OFFICIALLY HIS GIRL *confetti*

Holy fucking shit that was sO HARD TO WRITE

OKAY NOT BECAUSE I WAS UNCOMFY WRITING IT CHILL– its um, cuz, miss gorl here has never been properly kissed or um had a boyfriend lol so take a freaking guess to why

So writing a romance scene reALLY REALLY TESTED MY KNOWLEDGE, PATIENCE, AND HECKING ALL THE ROMANCE BOOKS I’VE READ PLEASE I WAS CLAWING MY WAY THROUGH THE ENTIRE TIME

I hope it wasn’t too awful or unrealistic :,))

HORRAY FOR FINALLY FACING YOUR FEAR AND VOICING OUT UR NEEDS AND WANTS GOOD JOB HERE HAVE A COOKIE

FUCK JOEL GOT STABBED MF

YOU ALSO GOT INJURED?? AGAIN?? WTF IS WRONG WITH U *bonk* ARE U DEAD OH NO? WTH!?!?1

ALSO MF PEDRO PASCAL IF I EVER MEET YOU I MIGHT HAVE A MENTAL BREAKDOWN IN FRONT OF YOU AFTER YOU DESCRIBED PTSD SO WELL WTF– ahem, I have PTSD and I’ve never seen me represented properly in any television series or movies. It’s always (usually) war veterans yk (CALM DOWN— CHILL PRETTY VALID AND PRETTY DAMN FUCKIN TRAUMATIC) But as someone who has PTSD and yk hasn’t been to a literal war it’s a bit harder to connect or relate to it (im not fucking whining, I’m just telling you my experience with PTSD) But the way Pedro showed it— fuck man. It was like staring at a mirror. My own brokeness represented in one episode. I felt so seen for the first time.

BUT THIS ONE, MF PEDRO U DESERVE ALL THE AWARDS

yay for Maria and Tommy! Such cuties congrats on the baby!!

someone should probably help me find a boyfriend— idk i Need research for smut :DD (this is a joke please don’t)

This chapter was wAYYYU more personal and intimate to write about. I just needed to do this right for my sake and others.

Sorry for the delay! The smut part was a little bit intimidating to write since yk I have zero experience with it LMAO

Thank you for sticking with me and I look forward to all of your comments and feedback! It gives me an idea if im doing this right and opportunity to connect with all of you! I LOVE YOU GUYS SOSOS MUCH AND OFF TO EP 7 I GO AHHHHH

Grace

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