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imagines--galore · 7 months

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||The Thread of Fate|| Part Eleven

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten,

A/N: Omg I had such a HUGE influx of readers for this story, and I am grateful to each and every one of you for reading my story! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and all the others I will be writing in the future.

Working at the tea shop was Orora's first time at a job. She was just as green to it as Zuko was. However, she did not voice her disgust at the notion every few seconds. She was eager to learn, and ready to earn her living. As much as she appreciated the money Iroh had given her, she wanted to contribute to their financial situation as well.

The first day had been busy. There had been the different types of teas she had to learn to brew, other then the ones she already knew thanks to her Master. Then there were dishes to wash almost constantly. Not a lot of customers had come in that day, Pao having closed the shop early to allow his new employees to get to know their work place, so it hadn't been as tiring as she had thought it would be.

What Orora found she liked to do, was wash the dishes. She got to play with water and bubbles, and it helped calm her. Strange, she knew, but after so many days of being on the run, doing something as simple as washing dishes was oddly calming. Not to mention the job allowed her mind to roam and ponder over things she had not allowed herself to for quite some time now.

As she set aside one of the more expensive looking cups, the young waterbender sighed softly through her nose.

So far the truce she had offered Zuko seemed to be working. Though it had only been a few hours since it had been put into effect. And they'd only managed to snap at each other twice. True after the second time Iroh had seen the wisdom in separating them by giving them jobs to do at different ends of the shop. Zuko worked the front, taking orders and such, while Orora washed the dishes in the back.

Picking up a plate and dunking it in the soapy water, Orora continued to let her thoughts wander and ask the questions she wished she could say out loud.

Such as why were Zuko and Iroh fugitives of the Fire Nation? They were royalty, surely the Fire Lord would want his brother and son back. And did Zuko's sister truly want to kill her own Uncle? That thought sent a shiver down her spine. But what about their mother? Didn't she have a say in all of this? Was she treated just like Orora's mother was treated?

She had so many questions, and more, and all she wanted to do was march right up to Zuko and demand that he answer them.

But something held her back.

Maybe because she was a polite person who didn't go about poking her nose in other people's business.

Or perhaps, more likely, she had no desire to cause Zuko any pain by talking about his past. It was surely a sore subject, from the bits and pieces of information she had collected over the months. Besides, he already had his hands full trying to adjust to living in Ba Sing Se. Orora just wished he would figure himself out faster so she could ask all her questions.

Oh, she could ask Iroh if she wanted to, and her would probably answer, but for some insane reason, she wanted the answers to come from Zuko himself.

Spirit help her but she felt it was the right thing since it was his story.

Memories of every encounter she had ever had with the young prince rose unbidden, yet not unwelcome in her mind, as she started to play with the water not having any more dishes to wash.

It was strange, how someone she had not even known a few months ago was now at the very center of her life. He wasn't all that she thought about, really this was the first time she was allowing herself to think of him to such an extent. Usually she had other things to think about. Such as surviving, learning from her Master, perfecting her water bending techniques, inventing new ways to incorporate ice into her fighting, improving on her combat skills, restocking her medicinal herbs, making sure she didn't loose touch with her healing side, because as much as she liked to put her waterbending skills to use by fighting, she knew healing was a major part of who she was.

All those thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind, as she focused on a pair of golden eyes that seemed to watch her wherever she went, watching her every step. At first she had thought, it was perhaps because he didn't trust her. But slowly, that mistrust in his eyes had faded. Now, when she would catch him looking at her, he would look away.

Then again, who was she to complain. She looked at him and had been caught looking at him by him on multiple occasion.

Her fingers continued to twirl, her gaze listless as she created pretty patterns in the water.

She thought of the night when they had first met, officially at least. When he had tried to rob her. She could still recall every detail with a clarity that surprised even her.

She contemplated on their little sparring session and the conversation after it, how she had encouraged him to find something to live for, to fight for.

She recalled how shocked she had been when she realized his true identity. A prince. An honest to goodness prince. One who couldn't stand her, and who she couldn't stand either.

At least, she thought that was the case.

Her mind conjured the moment where she had first touched his scar. How vulnerable he had looked, and yet he had trusted her enough to not push her away. The way he had protected her when they were at the Oasis. The conversation they had shared while bathing. That one brought a fierce blush to her cheeks. And despite her best effort to move on to the next one, she found the blush only intensifying as she remembered the moment they had shared on the mountain.

Where they had acknowledged that they were soulmates. Where he had gripped her wrist, so desperately and yet so soft. Where she had wandered how his lips would feel against her own. And she was sure he had been thinking the same.

After all, hadn't he leaned forward slightly before the elements of nature had tread on their moment?

So lost in her thoughts, that she didn't even sense as someone else entered her work area and stood next to her. Watching her.

"Uncle says its time to go now."

The voice jolted her out of her thoughts, scaring her so much that she jumped where she stood. Her bending reacted out of instinct, mirroring her startled emotion as her hand shot a splash of water on the figure standing next to her.

"Spirits! You startled me!" She panted, resting a hand above her heart. Zuko glowered at her in return, water dripping from his hair and onto his shoulders. The girl winced, pursing her lips to hide a smile, though it still escaped. She couldn't help it, he just looked utterly ridiculous.

At his warning growl, she couldn't help but giggle. A strange sound since it hardly ever came from her. "Sorry, here." Quickly bending the water, she threw it back into the sink and gave him an apologetic smile. His glare did not let up.

"We're done here for the day. Lets go." He grumbled, before making for the door. She rolled her eyes. Clearly he wasn't too pleased with her little reaction. As he stomped off, she called after him, removing her apron as she went. "I said I was sorry!"

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Their new home was a small apartment, just big enough for the three of them. As soon as they returned, Orora quickly settled in the middle of the room, wanting to get in an hour of meditation before bed. She crossed her legs, closed her eyes, folded her hands in her lap and evened out her breathing.

Which left Iroh to brew some more tea for them, and for Zuko to lay on the sofa, hands tucked behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling, his mind going over the day's event.

A job. For once in his life, he was actually working for a living. The notion had seemed strange at first, not to mention he had felt that it was beneath him, but what Orora had said was true. They did need jobs if they were to survive in this city.

Reluctantly, his gaze flickered to the water tribe girl as she sat meditating peacefully, oblivious to the effect she had had on him.

Him. Prince of the Fire Nation. Being effected by the words of a commoner.

Or rather, he was being effected by the words of a girl who was his soulmate.

Letting out a silent groan, his hand came up to press the back of his hand against his eyes, as if to physically stop him from staring too long at her. It was starting to get pathetic, just how much he would want her opinion on things.

He wouldn't go so far as to say he wanted her to approve of him, but it was pleasant to have someone else beside his Uncle give him a little wisdom. He spoke of life in riddles and words that were heavy with emotion.

Orora?

She would give it straight to his face. No regard of his feelings, his stand on whatever topic it was. She would just come out and say it.

And he appreciated her for that.

True he never always liked what she said, but sometimes they were the exact words he needed to hear.

Like the talk they had had after their impromptu battle near that lake. He still hadn't found something to live for, or to fight for, but at least he knew that he was looking for something.

Not to mention the fact that he would be ever grateful to her for saving Uncle's life. He would never say it outright, but in that moment he had been so so scared and she had stepped up and healed Iroh. Even after getting to know who they were and the lies she had been led to believe for so long.

And how she had probably saved him that stormy night on the mountain. A moment of weakness on his part, letting his emotions get the best of him, but she'd been there. She'd been where he needed her to be, and had not held back when telling him off for being so reckless.

He had to stop his thoughts there, not wanting to dwell too much on what would've happened if that moment in the rain had gone on any longer.

And then there was the truce. To live together somewhat harmoniously.

Lifting his hand, he looked at her again, watching her face. She looked so calm in that moment, as opposed to the plethora of emotions that always played about her features. Zuko found he was beginning to think of it as a game. A game where he would try to guess what she would feel next, and whether it would effect him in some way.

So far, almost every emotion she felt was directed at him, and though he would never ever admit it out loud, he kind of liked having her attention be on him rather then anything else.

Huffing to himself, as if disgusted with his own thoughts, he rose to his feet, moving to the pantry to see what he could have for dinner.

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"Orora, my dear." Glancing up from where she had been counting the money of the customer who had just paid, the young waterbender gave Iroh a nod. "Yes Master?"

"We seem to have run out of Jasmine. I have asked Pao and he says to take some money from the till and buy some Jasmine tea from the shop just down the street."

Taking the money, Orora quickly nodded, before rushing to the back of the shop where Zuko was on dish washing duty. Seeing her taking off her apron, he frowned. "Where're you going?"

Straightening her clothes, the girl replied. "Ran out of Jasmine, just going to buy some." She had barely made it to the door when Zuko called out. "Wait, I'm supposed to go with you when you go out into the city."

Orora glanced over her shoulder, rolling her eyes slightly. "Relax Your Highness. Its only a five minute walk, nothing is going to happen to me." She opened the door, moving to step outside, but then she paused.

"Although, it is sweet of you to worry about me." She glanced over at him, a smile on her lips as she caught sight of the obvious flush on his cheeks as he looked at anything but her. "I'll be back soon." She said as a way of promise, before she was out of the tea shop.

It was a five minute walk, and once the goods were secured, the girl began to make her way back to the shop, her heart still warm at the prospect of Zuko actually worrying about her.

Her happy thoughts, however, were interrupted rather rudely when a hard hand grabbed her shoulder, yanking her into a dark alley, covering her mouth with a rough hand.

The instant she felt the unfamiliar hands, she began to struggle and push with all her strength, trying to get away.

"Stop moving!" A voice hissed, a very familiar voice.

Her eyes focused in the dark, and she was able to make out the face of the boy they had met on the way to Ba Sing Se.

The Freedom Fighter, Jet.

Her pale blue eyes narrowed, and a look akin to a cold anger burned in the gaze she fixed him with. "Look I just want to talk, that's all." He said, still not letting up from where he had his hand on her mouth.

She continued to glare at him, even after he had removed his hand, though his other kept an almost painful grip on her wrist. "I'm trying to help you. You're a waterbender, there's no way you would be with those firebenders of your own free will, so they must be keeping you prisoner somehow."

He knows, a voice hissed in her mind, prompting her heart to beat faster in her chest, and an ugly feeling of fear to coil in her stomach. But she didn't let it show.

Instead, she remained the epitome of disgust and anger. "What in the world are you talking about?"

There seemed to be an almost manic look in his eyes, accompanied by impatience, as he dropped her hand, and grabbed her shoulders. "You don't have to lie for them. I'm trying to help you. I just need evidence and then we can end those two firebenders."

End?! Spirits! He wanted to kill Iroh and Zuko.

Shrugging out of his grasp, Orora stepped away, fingers pulling the cork of her water satchel in case she needed to defend herself. "You're out of your mind." She growled at him. Despite the terror she felt at hearing his statement, her instinct to protect her two companions was far potent, which was the reason she was even able to face the boy with murder in his eyes.

"Just admit the truth! They're firebenders! And they deserve to die." He was starting to get frustrated with her. "I don't care what you say, I will find some way to expose them, and when I do, I'll have the pleasure of executing them."

Hearing those words, hearing the tone in his voice, the sheer hatred and anger in his eyes. Something in her snapped.

With a fierce cry she threw her arm out, the movement elegant yet deadly, given that Jet found himself staring at the very sharp ends of multiple icicles that she pointed in his direction.

"This is your first and last warning." She hissed, her voice full of warning. "If you come near them, if you so much as harm a single hair on their head, I will personally see to it that you pay for it." She fixed him with a cold stare. "In blood."

So saying, she turned her back to him, leaving him trapped behind her icicles. They would melt soon enough, though the words Jet called after her as she walked away, echoed in her ears all the way back to the tea shop.

"You would threaten someone who's on your side. You're willing to protect the enemy?! You're a traitor to your own people. A disgrace! You're just like them! A killer!"

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As soon as she reached the back door of the tea shop, Orora leaned up against the wooden door. Her heart was beating so fast, she was afraid it would somehow burst out of her chest. A stinging sensation behind her eyes told her she was close to tears. Lifting a trembling hand, she pressed it to face, willing herself to calm down.

She had to warn Zuko and Iroh, make sure they were on guard. She couldn't let anything happen to them. They were her friends. She cared about them. Both of them.

Somehow, she managed to calm herself down, slightly, and entered the shop. It had taken her a good fifteen minute to calm down. Grabbing her apron, she tied it behind her in a haphazard manner before rushing out to the front of the shop.

There was Iroh, pouring tea for a customer, with Zuko picking up cups left behind by a previous customer. She all but stumbled forward, catching Zuko's hand, prompting him to look at her, confused and slightly alarmed at her obvious panicked state.

"Orora? Wha-"

But she didn't let him finish. "He knows." She whispered, aware of the other customers around her. "Jet knows." The words were spoken so softly that no one else could ever hear them, and yet Zuko did. Loud and clear.

However, before either of them could talk further on what she had revealed, the door of the shop slammed open and Jet himself walked in. A strangled gasp left her lips, as she caught sight of that murderous look in his eyes once more.

"I'm tired of waiting!" He pointed an accusing finger at both Iroh and Zuko. "These two men are firebenders! And that girl is helping them. She's a traitor!"

Immediately, Zuko pushed Orora behind him, gripping one of her hands to make sure she stayed there. Uncle and nephew exchanged a look which seemed to mirror what the other was thinking.

Play dumb.

"I know they're firebenders, I saw the old man heating his tea!" Jet continued, advancing towards the trio with his hooked swords out of their sheaths. "He works in a tea shop." A nearby customer stated in a rather confused voice, but Jet wasn't having it. "He's a firebender! I'm telling you!"

The same customer stood. "Drop your swords, boy. Nice and easy." Jet ignored him, his gaze never leaving Zuko's as he began to advance towards him and Orora. "You'll have to defend yourself. Then everyone will know. Go ahead, show them what you can do." His gaze flickered to Orora who, previous fear forgotten to be replaced by a burning anger, glared back at him. "Or would you rather have your girlfriend get hurt defending you."

She felt his grip on her hand tighten to an almost painful level. "Zuko, no! He's goading you!" She whispered, even as the previous customer moved to step forward, ready to unsheathe his sword. Zuko simply glanced at her. Her heart dropped to her stomach. She knew exactly what he was about to do.

And sure enough he stepped forward and grabbed the swords the customer had been about to withdraw. "You want a show?" He growled. "I'll give you a show!'

He pulled a table in front of him with his foot and kicked it at Jet, who was quick to slice the table with his swords and jumped over it. As he landed, he swung both hook swords at the Fire Nation prince, who deflected the attack and jumped backward onto another table. Which was again sliced in half by Jet, with a mighty swing of one sword through the middle of the table.

Somehow Zuko managed to balance on one half of the table, on one foot! Jet was unrelenting as he continued his frenzied attack by cutting the legs off the table. Zuko was quick on his feet as he jumped up. As he landed, he swung both broadswords at Jet's feet, but he somersaulted away and landed in a crouching position before charging forward. Zuko swung both of his swords at Jet.

Both weapons clashed as both fighters tried to best the other, glaring at each other as they did.

"Enough!"

Orora's scream cut through the air as she used her waterbending to push the two fighters apart. She moved to stand in front of Zuko, multiple ice knives nestled between her fingers as she stared down Jet. "We are not your enemies! Stop acting like a complete lunatic!" Zuko growled behind her. "Orora, stay out of this!" Jet's grip on his swords only tightened. "I will not listen to anyone who betrays their own people to help firebenders."

He took a running start, prompting Orora to drop in her stance to defend herself, however her plan of action went out the window when Zuko pushed her to the side. So forcefully that she fell to the ground with a loud thud.

Jet threw his leg out, catching Zuko in the chest and watching as he went flying through the air, smashing through the doors of the tea shop and out into the street. As the rest of the patrons rushed out to see what would happen next, Iroh quickly helped Orora to stand up.

"Are you alright my dear?" He asked, checking her over for injuries. She gave a quick nod, before stumbling to the door of the shop, Iroh following behind.

Outside the battle continued to rage between the two teenagers.

"Please, son, you're confused! You don't know what you're doing!" Even he was getting worried that Zuko would snap and use his firebending. Orora began to pray silently to the Moon Spirit, hoping her pleas would be heard and that Zuko wouldn't get hurt or reveal his true identity. The people would surely kill Zuko and Iroh, if they knew who they really were.

"Bet you wish he'd help you out with a little fire blast right now." As Jet swung at Zuko's feet, Zuko stabbed one of his broadswords through the hilt of his sword, pinning it to the ground. Jet looked annoyed at loosing his weapon, before focusing back on Zuko. "You're the one who needs help." Zuko responded. Leaving the sword embedded in the floor, they shifted to combating with a single sword each. Jet turned in a circle, trying to swipe at Zuko once again, but Zuko quickly advanced and swung his sword at Jet.

The Freedom Fighter quickly bent backward to avoid the blade, though it did manage to cut the straw sticking out of his mouth in half. Regaining his balance, Jet jumped backward onto the edge of a well. "You see that‌?!" He called out to the gathered crowd. "The Fire Nation is trying to silence me. It'll never happen." He attacked once more, hooking his sword to the top of the well and sending a flying kick towards Zuko.

Zuko growled as he dodged the kick and swung his sword at Jet once again. He moved to the side, and suddenly they were back-to-back, trying to land a hit, but neither could get past the other's defense.

Just then two newcomers entered the crowd. And from their uniforms, they looked to be of an official status. "Drop your weapons." One of them commanded. The two fighters stepped away and faced each other. Though Zuko lowered his sword, Jet pointed his weapon at Zuko, Iroh and Orora.

"Arrest them! They're firebenders!" Iroh stepped forward, throwing his arms out. "This poor boy is confused. We're just simple refugees." Pao, wanting to defend his employees joined in as he pointed to Jet. "This young man wrecked my tea shop, and assaulted my employees!" The customer from whom Zuko had borrowed the swords stepped forward. "It's true, sir. We saw the whole thing. This crazy kid attacked the finest tea maker in the city." Iroh blushed at the compliment. "Oh, ho, ho. That's very sweet."

Knowing it would be like adding wood to the fire, Orora stepped forward. "And he attacked me and threatened to hurt my Master and his nephew." She walked towards the two men, hand exposed to the wrist where he had grabbed her earlier. Sure enough the bruise from his grip was already beginning to change the color of her skin. The sight of it had Zuko nearly swinging his sword once again, but Iroh placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

It would seem the two had heard enough. As Jet continued his tirade of firebenders and Fire Nation, he was escorted to a cart where he was put in the metal cell and taken away.

Orora watched him go, unaware of the crowd as it dispersed around them.

"Orora?" At Iroh's voice, she turned around, still a little spooked with what had just happened. Or rather what could've happened. "Why don't you and Li go home. I'll help Pao clean up and meet you there."

As if she had no control over her actions, Orora took off her apron and handed it to Iroh, who gave her a sympathetic smile. "Do see that my nephew wasn't too hurt from the kick, my dear." The concern was evident in his gaze, as was the guilt in her own as she glanced at Zuko who was returning the sword to it's rightful owner.

Giving him a small nod, she waited for Zuko to walk past her, before following after him towards their shared home.

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#prince zuko x oc #prince zuko x reader #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #prince zuko #zuko x y/n #zuko x oc #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #avatar #the thread of fate

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jiminjamms · 7 months

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sex therapy :: 27. missed me?

chapter tags/warnings: manipulative! naoya. therapist! toji. a very broken marriage (cont.). heavy angst but i am still not gege. infidelity/adultery. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.0k

notes: i hope everyone has been swell! sending hugs to every corner of the world, and i hope my writing can be your little break from reality. i have also added more chapters to the fic since i cannot wrap up the story in the next few chapters, ha. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

12:33 PM Toji called 12:33 PM He told me that my daughter collapsed in front of the twins? 12:34 PM And you got into a fight with her? 12:34 PM How did that happen? 12:34 PM Are you with her right now? 12:37 PM Answer me please, I need to make sure she’s fine (Missed Call) 12:38 PM Can you phone me back asap? Thx 12:38 PM I’m still in the office right now, wrapped up the weekly meeting with the operating committee 01:01 PM Hello? 01:01 PM Hey, are you there? (Missed Call) 01:12 PM Toji called again, he gave me a rundown, and I have to say… 01:12 PM I’m very, very disappointed in you

Perhaps the better word would be terrified, but Naoya was truly and genuinely astounded.

How the fuck did this happen?

Naoya could feel his breathing grow shallow and his body turn cold as he read through each message from his Chief Operating Officer once, twice, three times. For a while, he stared at his chat history, his shaking thumb hovering over the screen while his mind went blank.

What started as an argument between just you and him now had your father involved. Not only your father, though—but also Mai, Maki, and now Toji?! How bothersome. Of course, you had to drag everyone into this! The world always had to revolve around you.

Naoya could not think straight as his chauffeur sped him back to the office from Mari’s apartment later that day. Even when he returned to his CEO suite, he could hardly focus on his conversations with department heads or strategy discussions with the Board when Daisuke L/N’s messages haunted him like an omnipresent and malevolent spirit.

‘I’m very, very disappointed in you.’

Goddamnit!

Naoya did not miss how your father was absent from the afternoon’s meetings either (although he was not stupid enough to point that out aloud at work when Naoya himself was involved in why), nor did he miss his own father’s narrowed gaze which seemingly lingered on him longer than usual.

Oh goodness, did he know, too?

No, he couldn’t have. Otherwise, Naobito Zenin would have pulled him to the side by now and given him a long and stern lecture.

Yet, when the early evening arrived, Naoya ultimately decided he must talk to you directly.

Not because he actually cared about your well-being. (Ha, as if.) But because he needed to quash the possibility that the rest of his family, particularly his Board Chairman father, could get a whiff of his quarrel with you before all hell broke loose.

Moments like these warranted him to push aside his dignity before things could worsen.

His greatest fear would be for this recent argument to become a domino effect, as the downfall in this marriage would certainly place him in hot water.

With that, the current Zenin CEO then tapped his phone for your contact.

He needed to check up on you but ended up in voicemail.

So, he dialed once more.

Voicemail.

Again.

Why were you not picking up his calls?

You always found a way to irk him with how ungrateful you could be. Sure, there was no secret that you hated him. He would admit he was rude, belittling, and patronizing, treating you like a trophy to tote around, a doll to splay at his will, and a woman who needed to learn her place. He knew this and you knew this, because he exclusively tolerated this marriage as a means to accelerate his life.

Despite everything, he made sure his wife was well-fed and looked after, only for you to throw a tantrum and now get his extended family involved? Ludicrous. Why not focus on the good things about him? Could you not see how he had attempted to reach you at least thirty times throughout the day? (His ultimate reason admittedly was selfish, but that’s not the point.)

Anywho, since when did you think that ignoring him was acceptable?

In a frustrated fit, Naoya tossed his phone into his desk’s paper heap and huffed.

To set things straight, he had made many sacrifices in his life to get to his seat today, like how—back in the day—he had to watch TV anchors praise his older cousin while sipping champagne in the Maldives with…whatever girlfriend he had been with at the time. Life had been hard, but he at last had everything he should’ve been entitled to since birth. This position, this family, and this company belonged to him, regardless of what stupid fucking traditions dictated.

Unsurprisingly, when Naoya took the helm, everyone scrutinized him. Sure, he might have lacked in a few (or, more accurately, a lot of…) regards since he hadn’t been built into the position the way Toji Zenin had been, but having you as his wife made him look good in family conversations and public discourse.

He just needed a little more time to get people to trust him. Then, once all the pieces clicked into place, he resolved to toss this marriage to the side.

That ‘time,’ he hoped, would be soon.

For now, he just needed to keep you for as long as he sought fit.

Buzz.

Well, speak of the devil.

You must finally be returning his call.

The sky had gone dark in the windows behind him now, but Naoya practically leaped from his seat, scrambling and shoving papers aside to find his phone buried beneath several printed reports. He hated how his hands quivered as he held the device, not that he could control himself at this point, and he snapped the moment he swiped at his screen.

“Where the hell are you?” Naoya hissed, clipped and impatient.

He did not get an immediate response, which infuriated him even more since he taught you to acknowledge him on the phone.

But then, he learned why.

Because instead, Naoya heard a low and harrowing chuckle.

“I guess you missed me, kid.”

The end to a marriage, for obvious reasons, would never be as glamorous as the start to one.

Many would dream for years about a wedding, but far fewer would think the same about a separation.

‘I'm going to file for a divorce.’

Admittedly, you were nervous when you announced the decision aloud in a crowded room for many eyes to see and ears to hear.

After all, even if you recognized the need for a change in your matrimony, you feared the consequences. You didn't want to cause your families to grow apart or your fathers to resent you. In addition, Naoya had been such a dominating fixture in your life these past few months, and he had led you to believe your days without him would be meaningless.

However, no longer could you set aside your emotions for his sake, nor would you expend extensive effort to salvage your marriage for other’s desires. Your sole purpose henceforth was to live a satisfied life without sacrificing more than what you already have for a husband who hardly look your way.

As a result, when you acknowledged divorce as the best possible solution to your demise, you were grateful for the emotional support and relieved faces from your worried father, the younger teenagers, and your trusted therapists.

Especially Toji.

“Come with me,” the very man ordered once you stepped into his apartment’s corridor with him.

Everyone else had been brought down to the apartment’s lower level after the earlier discussion in the master bedroom, with Megumi forced to take on the role as host in his father’s absence. The younger Fushiguro might be aloof and sometimes awkward, but word had gotten around that he was a good chef with his aunts nagging at him to prepare dinner.

“C’mon, don’t you want to show us what recipes you have learned on TikTok?”

“...No, not really. Can we just order KFC?”

The other conversation that drifted upward was between your father and the other three therapists, which made sense given that they all used to be colleagues back when Toji had been the CEO.

There was laughter, chatter, and the entire brouhaha brought ease to your nervous heart.

“Ladies first,” Toji said at some point after you had trailed behind him. He had taken you several meters ahead, opening the door to invite you inside. “This is my home office.”

You did not yet see the point in him doing a House Tour 2.0, but you walked in upon his gesture anyway. The hardwood floor beneath you felt warm, your body heating up slightly despite the coolness in the air.

Toji kept his office space as tidy as the rest of his abode. He had a white leather couch situated by the doorway and a workspace configuration to the side with desk lamps, an expensive chair, and a dual monitor setup.

Above his screens, Toji probably had fifteen accolades in cherry wood frames, each to showcase his achievements as countless magazines named him the best leader, the top executive, and the most promising innovator.

What caught your attention, however, was the wall beside his workstation.

There was a corkboard.

At first glance, the tacked-on magazine cutouts and photograph snippings seemed like a messy litter on the brown surface, but thin red strings—which made this look like a detective movie prop—connected one piece to another and suggested an order to the chaos.

“What is this?” you asked, a question not directed to anyone in particular as you neared the corkboard without waiting for Toji’s permission.

Upon closer distance, the vague letterings and images became clear.

The newspaper cover story fastened at the very center read in big bold print: “Zenin Corporation Announces New CEO.”

As the realization dawned that this was what Toji meant to show you, the man’s measured footsteps came up from behind you. He stopped at your side, watching how you inspected each element on the corkboard as though his room was your laboratory and he was your professor.

“The World Economic Forum estimates that more than 5% of global GDP is lost to corruption around the world each year,” he began, crossing his thick arms firmly over his chest. “Many articles you see here had been published online only to be taken down not even a few hours later. I suspect that Naoya this year alone has spent hundreds of thousands, if not millions, bribing the Japanese media to curate the public image he needs.” He then pointed around. “Look for yourself.”

You would have called Toji out for being a total creep if the objective of this collection had not been obvious. With scarlet threads weaving together to reveal an elaborate web of deceit, Toji had been curating an exposé.

There was one photo from your wedding day. Standing at the altar with Naoya, you looked so happy and blissful back then, the vibrant bouquet in your hands a colorful contrast against the pristine white of your Vera Wang wedding gown, your face radiant with a smile oblivious to the heartache that would come.

This publication, you have seen before.

What you did not recognize, however, were the articles dated from nearly a year ago, well before your wedding day, with even more printed five months ago, two months ago, one week ago…

…and reading the titles made you feel sick.

Japanese Hotshot Shares Intimate Kisses with Rumored Girlfriend Photos Reveal Recently Married Executive’s Secret Affair? Exclusive: Zenin Corporation CEO Spotted in Mexico with Alleged Lover

The accompanying pictures had the same two subjects in plain clothes and baseball caps, showing off little skin to reveal their identities to prying busybodies. Yet, upon an immediate glance, you recognized Naoya Zenin as the taller figure and assumed his very precious ladyfriend must be the other.

Photographers had snapped the two embracing each other in a cab’s backseat, sharing a secret kiss after a luxury mall date, and holding hands while stepping into a private plane.

All to say, you were revolted.

The more you mulled on these printouts, the more you could feel visceral disgust build in your chest.

To think you once contemplated saving a marriage with a man like that. Whatever his plan was for him and this woman, did he intend to make you a side character to their romance until the day you would die?

Your gaze darted around, and the photo with the most unobstructed view of their faces placed you on pause.

All of a sudden, a hard lump formed in your throat because, Holy shit, she’s…stunning.

Seeing the woman who your husband had had his sights on immediately unlocked a whole new level of insecurities within you.

No wonder Naoya could not bring himself to be married to you when he had her.

The woman was exquisite, to say the least. Despite the picture’s poor quality, you noticed her bright elegant face, plump pink lips, and long full lashes—precisely the characteristics that would turn heads in a crowded room. In fact, you secretly wished that you possessed her overflowing pulchritude as well.

If she was an angel from your point of view, she must also be in Naoya’s eyes all the more.

You gingerly drew a circle around her with a finger.

“Is she his mistress?”

Why did you even ask that? You already knew the answer. But, you wanted to confirm the facts rather than satisfy your curiosity.

Meanwhile, Toji ran his index finger very slowly over his lower lip.

He answered a while later.

“Yes.” As you had expected. Then, he added, “But she’s also my ex-wife.”

What—

Your jaw dropped to the trenches.

If you thought tonight had been filled with enough revelations, this one really sealed the deal.

His…ex-wife?!

Unlike the man before you, hiding your deepest emotions had never been your forte. Instead, you had gone stiff as your mind reeled in shock.

“She’s…Tsumiki’s mom,” you said quietly at the realization.

Yes, you have heard a lot about her. However, to make the connection between the lady in the picture and the woman who owned currently Naoya’s (and previously Toji’s) devotion stirred awake a thousand emotions.

Anger. Bitterness. Resentment.

Megumi had told you plenty about her before.

‘Treated me like a bag of shit, spent all my dad’s money on her shopping sprees every weekend, and even neglected her own daughter—my stepsister.’

Her pretty face could only go so far in disguising her dark heart.

With this understanding, you finally grasped Toji’s bitterness when he first met you. How fickle fate had been to him. Comical, even! For his younger cousin to take his succession rights to the clan, his executive position in the company, and—to top everything off—his wife from his family. Only for you (of all eight billion people in the world) to show up at Toji Fushiguro’s office asking for sex therapy?

Now, you comprehended why Toji and Naoya despised each other.

In addition, you understood why Toji and his colleagues had been suspicious of you. Trust takes time to build yet a moment to shatter, and all of them have had this trust broken before. By Naoya, yes.

But also, by her.

“What’s her name?” you had to ask, ignoring the searing ache in your heart.

Your therapist, on the other hand, tried to play off his vexation by shoving his hands into his front pockets.

“Mari,” and also, “She still uses my last name.”

Wow.

The audacity that some people in the world have.

“Here let me help.”

“Hm?”

At first, you did not quite get what Toji was referring to until he started tearing the magazine photos and newspaper stories.

Wordlessly, you gawked at him, both in confusion and astonishment.

“Why—”

Before you could complete the thought, Toji had placed everything into a neat stack and thrust the pile into your hands. “There,” he said with finality. “If you are to file for a divorce, take these to Naoya. See what the bastard has to say. Staying with him any longer would be a fatal flaw.”

Toji had never seen a single interaction between you and his cousin in person, yet he could confidently say your husband was the hamartia in your life. Perhaps the signs had always been obvious. Or perhaps, his recent experience in a toxic marriage allowed Toji to notice the red flags in yours from miles away.

“If you give him too much time, he’ll come up with his offenses,” he went on. “We don’t need to outfight him, though. We simply need to outthink him.”

Something about Toji’s emerald eyes gleamed in a way you had not seen before.

It was a different side to him, one where he planned and strategized, a flickering core of the businessman he used to be.

“Hi.”

You and Toji froze at the sound.

Megumi’s voice had startled you two as the boy peered in from the hallway, waving a phone in his hand—your phone. “Sorry to interrupt but, uh, he called again.”

Interestingly enough, Megumi did not need to explicitly mention a name for you all to know who he referred to. As your screen flickered on, you noticed the numerous missed calls and text messages that had flooded your notifications, all from one particular culprit, no doubt.

Instead of embarrassment, your body surged with aggravation at how your husband suddenly seemed desperate to know your whereabouts.

So now he cared, huh?

Before you could retrace your steps towards the door, however, Toji had already done so. He retrieved the device from his son’s hands and started dialing a number from your phone.

You tried to stop him. “Hey, what are you—”

But Toji dismissed you, pressing your phone to his ear as the call began to ring, and his lips curled into a wicked grin when the other line must have picked up.

“I guess you missed me, kid.”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: I am excited to show the interaction between Toji and Naoya—I have been thinking about their conversation for a long time! This chapter is less of a whirlwind and more of a setup for the rest to come. Thank you for your support!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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redroomreflections · 1 month

Text

Gentle Hands Chapter Ten

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha suspects Reader is in an abusive relationship and tries to convince her to leave

10/10

W/c: 6.2k

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Warning: Domestic violence

Author’s note: We are experiencing a time jump here. This is the end. Like many of the stories I’ve written, when I began this came from a deep place of loneliness and discomfort. The only way to write my feelings was to put them into a piece of work that included my favorite character. It’s easy to find that form of escapism in something you enjoy and so I did just that. I do hope y’all enjoyed this ride even if it was painful. I’m open to writing drabbles for this story in the future.

"It’s like climbing a mountain," a woman’s voice quivered with emotion as she neared the end of her share. "You only see the tip of the iceberg, but beneath the surface, there’s so much more we’re battling through." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I think this is my last day. I don't have the energy to go through it all again. It feels like I've been doing this for so long." She reaches below her open legs to take a sip of her bottled water.

"I can't say how sorry I am that you feel like this," the therapist said, setting down her notepad as she looked over to the speaker. "I know your strength, and it seems like you've been carrying this burden for a very long time. All of you have." She eyed the group.

Directly across from her, you sat quietly in your chair, your hands resting in your lap. You briefly picked at your nails, a nervous habit you wished you could break. The cozy room, with its soft lighting and comforting decor, offered a stark contrast to the heavy emotions shared within its walls.

As the woman’s words hung in the air, you felt a pang of empathy. You understood the weight of unspoken struggles, the unseen battles fought beneath the surface. The therapist’s response was gentle, and filled with compassion and understanding.

Your gaze wandered around the room, taking in the faces of the other women. Each one held a story, a journey marked by pain and resilience. The group’s collective strength was palpable, a testament to their shared experiences and mutual support.

When the therapist turned to address the group, your attention snapped back. You took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself in the moment.

"Let's close out our time together with a meditation. I know you're all feeling very raw today, and I want you to focus on taking care of yourselves. I encourage each of you to lean into the things that bring you comfort and joy."

You closed your eyes thinking of the things that brought joy to your life. Your mind immediately flows to your baby girl. With her toothy smile and big brown eyes. You remember her giggle and the way she clings to you tightly as if never wanting to let go. She is your heart, your world. Then your mind flows to your friends who have truly become like family. Steve and his loyalty. Sam and his ability to always make you laugh. And Natasha, who holds a piece of your heart.

You hear the therapist clear her throat before she begins to speak.

"We can only be truly healed if we choose to embrace the process."

"That's easy for her to say," You thought. Embracing the process of healing is difficult. Healing is not linear.

"There is no rush, no timetable. We will support each other on this journey, and celebrate the healing of our hearts and minds."

As the session came to a close, you gathered your things and prepared to leave. The room began to empty, and you made your way toward the exit. A woman from the group, her face bright with a cheerful demeanor, caught up with you.

“Hey, I’m so glad I caught you!” she said, her excitement palpable. “I’ve missed a few sessions, so I haven’t had a chance to catch up. How are things going with Natasha? You’ve mentioned her before, and I was curious if there have been any updates. I’ve been thinking about you and hoping things have been improving.”

"Improving?" You questioned with a smirk. Delaney Chance had always been one of the nosier groupgoers. You had quickly bonded with her over motherhood and pretty much everything else. She's in her late 30'sand while her demeanor makes her seem much younger you enjoy talking with her. "I'm not sure what there is to improve on."

"So you guys haven't gotten together yet?" She asked as she opened up a brand new pack of cigarettes. "This is the slowest burn I've ever heard of."

"I mean we're as together as together can be," You shrugged.

"I guess that's true," She took a pull from her cigarette. "I mean you both practically live together and you're raising two kids."

"Del," You warned, not wanting to talk about Natasha and yourself right now.

"Right," She took a few more pulls before continuing. "It's been a minute since you've checked in, I was just curious."

"Curiosity is fine," You nod. "It's just that I don't think I'm ready for a relationship. I don't want to keep her waiting forever."

"Has she truly been waiting though?" Delaney questioned. "You can't say the two of you haven't gotten close all this time."

You didn't say anything. You couldn't say anything. In your heart of hearts, you knew Del was right. You'd both been dancing around each other for quite some time now. You didn't want to hold Natasha back. But the truth was, you didn't trust yourself. You were too scared to love her. Too afraid of losing her.

You knew if you didn't make a move soon, someone else would.

"We have almost..." You bite your lip debating on what exactly to share with Delaney. You and Natasha have shared so many intimate moments. Cuddling on the couch at night after the kids have gone to sleep. Her bringing you tea after you'd been up all night studying. Things were as domestic as domestic could get. The only thing the two of you had never done was kiss. Not since that night, she'd taken you in. "But the timing was always off. Like something would always interrupt."

"Like the universe saying not yet," Delaney stated.

"Yeah." You walk down the street further, noting how much closer you are getting to the subway.

"Well, maybe you just have to stop waiting." She suggests. "Stop waiting for the perfect moment. Just kiss her."

"Kiss her?" You asked. "You think things work like that."

"Why not?" Delaney questioned.

"Because things aren't that simple," You argued.

"But they could be," Delaney countered.

"No, it can't." You were quick to argue. "I am me and she is...." You fumble to find the words. "Look I've done a lot of healing but I don't know if I can give her what she needs."

"That sounds like an excuse," Delaney stated. "Are you trying to protect her or yourself?"

"Her, I'm always protecting her."

"Then why are you still fighting it?"

You let out a deep sigh, the weight of the conversation pulling at your thoughts. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with her,” you began, choosing your words carefully. “I love our time together. Natasha… she’s the first person I’ve felt safe with in a long time. We have these deep conversations, you know? We talk about everything—our pasts, our fears, our dreams. She understands me in a way no one else does.”

Delaney nodded, her expression softening. “But…?”

“But we haven’t really defined what we are to each other,” you admitted, the vulnerability in your voice surprising even you. “We’ve gotten so close, and sometimes it feels like we’re more than friends, but we’ve never actually said it out loud. It’s like we’re both scared to cross that line, afraid of what it might mean.”

Delaney tilted her head, considering your words. “So, you’re stuck in this gray area, huh? That’s gotta be tough.”

“Yeah, it is,” you confessed. “Part of me likes the way things are now—no labels, no expectations. It’s comforting, in a way. We’re just… us. But at the same time, I know that’s not fair to her. Natasha deserves more than just the pieces of me I’m willing to give.”

“You’re right,” Delaney said gently. “But maybe it’s not about giving her more. Maybe it’s about letting yourself accept more. Letting yourself believe that you deserve happiness, too.”

You stopped walking for a moment, letting her words sink in. The truth was, you did enjoy what you had with Natasha. The late-night talks, the way she’d gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, the comforting warmth of her presence—it all felt right. But the fear of losing that, of losing her if things didn’t work out, kept you from taking that final step.

“Del, I just don’t want to mess this up,” you said, your voice tinged with uncertainty. “I’m terrified that if we try to make it something more and it doesn’t work out, I’ll lose her. I’ll lose this connection we have, and I don’t know if I can handle that.”

Delaney gave you a knowing smile, a mix of empathy and encouragement in her eyes. “Sometimes, you’ve gotta take the risk. If you both care about each other as much as it seems, then maybe it’s worth the chance. It sounds like you’ve already got a pretty solid foundation—why not build on that?”

You glanced down at the sidewalk, the city sounds buzzing around you as you considered her words. The thought of defining what you had with Natasha was both thrilling and terrifying. But maybe Delaney was right. Maybe it was time to stop waiting for the perfect moment and just… go for it.

"Thanks," You said as the two of you continued your walk. "I guess I should figure out a way to do that."

"I'm sure it will happen organically," She offered. "Okay, I have to go and pick up the kids from my mom. See you next week. Kiss those babies for me and that beautiful red-headed lady."

"Will do," You gave her a quick hug before watching her walk away. As you walked towards the subway, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. Maybe it was time to give your heart what it wanted most.

***********

You’ve heard countless stories, some eerily similar to your own, others vastly different, but all filled with the same undercurrent of pain and resilience. For two years, the group has been your anchor, a place where you could finally breathe, where your voice mattered. You remember the first time you walked into the room, your heart pounding, unsure if you belonged. It had been Sam who pushed you to take that step, insisting you needed a space where people truly understood you.

Initially, you’d been skeptical. The idea of sharing your deepest wounds with strangers felt overwhelming, even terrifying. But over time, this group became more than just a suggestion from a friend—it became your sanctuary. The Peach Tree Group for Women Experiencing Domestic Violence was the one place where you could drop the facade, where you didn’t have to be strong for anyone but yourself.

Week after week, you’ve listened as women bared their souls. You’ve watched as they slowly found their footing, just as you’ve been finding yours. Healing is a process, a journey you’ve all been on together, and though the road has been long, you’ve made progress—more than you ever thought possible.

Today’s session was no different. The topic was healing, a concept that had once seemed so distant, so out of reach. But now, as you sat there listening to the others share their stories, you realized just how far you’ve come. Two years ago, you couldn’t imagine feeling as grounded as you do now. Sure, the scars are still there, but they don’t define you anymore.

You can't wait to get home to your babies. You couldn't wait to finally live the life you'd been fighting so hard to have. Days like this felt surreal. It felt like a lifetime ago you'd been running. You're glad you dared to run.

**********

After the therapy session, you made your way home, the day’s conversations still playing in your mind. The moment you stepped into your apartment in the Avenger’s Tower, the warmth and familiarity of the space enveloped you, easing the lingering tension. You paused just inside the doorway, drawn to the sight unfolding before you.

Natasha was sitting cross-legged on the floor, with Brynn nestled comfortably in her lap. The baby’s tiny hands were reaching out, trying to grasp one of Natasha’s fingers while babbling softly, her wide eyes fixed on her sister with pure adoration. In front of them, Kaia was busy coloring a large piece of paper spread out on the coffee table. Her curly coils bounced with each enthusiastic stroke of the crayon, and her face was scrunched up in concentration as she carefully chose her colors.

You stayed where you were, not wanting to interrupt the moment. Kaia, her little tongue poking out in focus, was working on what appeared to be a card. You could see the bright colors she was using, and the careful way she was trying to stay within the lines—a clear sign that this was something important to her. Natasha, ever patient and loving, was softly encouraging her, offering gentle suggestions without taking over.

Brynn, meanwhile, had managed to grab hold of Natasha’s finger and was now bringing it to her mouth, gnawing on it with her emerging teeth. Natasha laughed, a sound so rare and precious that it made your heart skip a beat. The sight of them together, so at ease and content, filled you with a sense of peace you hadn’t realized you needed.

Kaia suddenly looked up, noticing you standing there. Her face lit up with a bright, toothy smile, and she immediately called out, “Mommy! Look!” She held up the card proudly, the front decorated with colorful scribbles and a least a half dozen scribbles.

Natasha looked up too, her eyes meeting yours, and the warmth in her gaze was undeniable. “We’ve been busy,” she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips as she shifted Brynn slightly to one side so the baby could see you too.

You stepped further into the room, your heart swelling with love for this little family you’d found yourself a part of. “It’s beautiful, Kaia,” you said, kneeling beside her to get a closer look at the card. “Did you make this all by yourself?”

"Mama Tasha helped me," Kaia nodded eagerly. “It’s for you, Mommy! I made it special.”

Her calling Natasha "Mama" had become a recent development. At two and a half years old, Kaia had started to pick up on the deep connection between the two of you and Natasha. Hearing her say it now, with such ease and certainty, sent a wave of emotion through you.

Natasha’s smile widened at Kaia’s words, a hint of pride in her eyes as she looked down at the little girl. “She did most of it herself,” Natasha added, her voice filled with a tender affection that made your heart swell even more. “I just helped with the finishing touches.”

You reached out and gently brushed a stray curl away from Kaia’s forehead, marveling at how much she had grown. “You both did an amazing job,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Kaia beamed at the praise, her bright, toothy smile lighting up her entire face. She reached out to you, her little hands sticky with crayon wax, and you pulled her into a hug, holding her close.

Brynn, not wanting to be left out, let out a babble that sounded like a protest until you reached over and stroked her chubby cheek. She immediately grabbed onto your finger, just as she had with Natasha, her grip surprisingly strong for such a tiny baby. Her big brown eyes sparkled as she stared up at you, her expression one of pure innocence and trust.

You shifted closer, placing a gentle kiss on Brynn’s forehead before looking back at Natasha.

"Thank you for keeping them," You offered to her as you settled next to her on the floor. Brynn practically threw herself into your arms before you could sit properly. The ten-month-old rested her head on your chest to hear your heartbeat. It was something she'd done from the very first day she'd been born.

"You don't have to thank me," Natasha reminded you. "I like the little rascals."

"Even when they're being little rascals?" You asked.

"Especially then," She smirked. "They're just like their Mama."

"Hey," You warned.

"I said especially," She teased, her eyes sparkling.

"Do you have anything planned for the day?" You attempted to hold a conversation between Brynn babbling and Kaia adding her commentary.

"The only thing I had planned was making sure the girls were okay."

"That's sweet," You smiled at her. "But seriously, nothing?"

"Why? Have a hot date or something?" Natasha tilted her head.

"Pftt," You scoffed. "I haven't been on a date since... well, I've never been on a date."

"What?" Natasha's eyes widened. "You've never been on a date?"

"Well," You began, knowing you'd have to explain. "K-E-I-T-H and I were in high school and we didn't have the opportunity to since my parents didn't approve. Once we moved we would have little things here and there but it was never a date. I thought I told you this before?" You look at her quizzically.

"I don't recall," Natasha replied. "Maybe I blocked it out."

"Yeah," You laughed. "It's not something I like to talk about."

"Mama, look at these circles." Kaia interrupted.

"They are pretty good," Natasha complimented.

"What color did you use?" You asked her.

"All of them," She answered. "But I put blue because it's your favorite." Suddenly, as if she had just realized, Kaia gasped and looked around. "Oh no, where's Blankie."

"Blankie is in the wash remember?" Natasha said. "You spilled chocolate milk on it the other day."

"Oh," Kaia nodded. It was all coming back to her now.

"It's okay, baby," You assured her. "We'll have it dried in no time. How about you draw a picture for Blankie while we're waiting?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kaia cheered. It was the blanket she received as a Christmas gift from Natasha last year. She wouldn't let that thing out of her sight.

"How was the group?" Natasha questioned.

"Good, very good." You replied.

"Anything new happening?"

"Not really," You shrugged. "Just the same stuff. We talked a little bit about the importance of healing and congratulating ourselves for the progress we've made."

"That's good," Natasha smiled, the softness in her eyes filling you with warmth. "You deserve it."

"Thanks," You returned her smile.

"Okay, I'm hungry," Kaia said as she got up. "My stomach is so empty."

"How can it be that empty when you've already had two snacks?" Natasha raised a brow at the two-year-old.

"Because it is," Kaia answered simply.

"Come on, Mama, let's go make a snack." Kaia abandoned her crayons to tug at your arm.

"Careful," You warned her as you passed Brynn back to Natasha. "Don't pull."

"Sorry, " Kaia let go.

"I'll meet you guys in the kitchen," Natasha called after you.

"How about peanut butter and jelly?" You suggested as you followed Kaia into the kitchen. It was then you'd noticed the Elsa of Frozen's costume dress she was wearing. It was the third time she'd worn it this week. Neither of you would dare take it off of her. It's one of those perks of living with a two-year-old. She was fiercely independent and opinionated.

As Kaia assumed her position on the step stool, you worked around her to grab the ingredients.

"Do you think toasted or non-toasted?"

"Toasted," Kaia said matter of fact.

"Okay, toasted it is."

"Do we have grapes?" She asked.

"Yes, I bought a pack yesterday."

"Good," She nodded.

You smiled as Kaia perched herself on the step stool, her tiny hands resting on the countertop as she eagerly watched you gather the ingredients for the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Her Elsa dress fluttered slightly as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Alright, toasted it is," you said, sliding two slices of bread into the toaster. The kitchen filled with the quiet hum of the appliance as it began to brown the bread, and you glanced over at Kaia, who was patiently waiting for her turn to help.

She was growing up so fast, you thought, your heart swelling with pride. At two and a half, Kaia was already so independent, so sure of herself. You couldn’t help but admire the way she approached everything with such determination and focus. It was as if she had already decided that the world was hers to explore, and she was ready to take it on, one small step at a time.

As the toaster popped, you carefully pulled out the warm slices of bread and set them on a plate in front of Kaia. "Okay, little chef," you said, handing her a small butter knife. "Do you want to spread the peanut butter or the jelly?"

"Peanut butter," she decided, her voice full of confidence. She took the jar you’d set out and began to scoop a generous amount onto her knife, her tongue poking out in concentration as she spread it across the toast.

You watched her, marveling at the care she took with each movement. Kaia might be small, but she was already so capable, so eager to help. It was in these little moments that you saw glimpses of the person she was becoming—kind, thoughtful, and endlessly curious.

"You're doing a great job," You praised her, and she looked up at you with a wide smile, her eyes sparkling with pride.

"I want it to be perfect," Kaia said, smoothing out a small clump of peanut butter that had stubbornly stuck to one spot. "Mommy, do you think Brynn will like it too?"

Your heart melted at her words. "I'm sure she will," you assured her. "But I think it's more important that you like it. After all, you’re the one making it."

Kaia nodded, her expression serious as she finished with the peanut butter and reached for the jelly. As she carefully spread it over the second slice of toast, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of love for this little girl who had become your whole world. She was so sweet, so caring, always thinking of others—even her baby sister, who was too young to appreciate a good peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Once the sandwich was assembled, Kaia handed it to you with a proud smile. "All done!"

"Perfect," you said, cutting the sandwich into triangles just the way she liked it. You placed the pieces on a plate and added a handful of grapes on the side.

"I need to wash my hands first," Kaia slid down from the stool to rush to the bathroom. She almost ran into Natasha in her haste.

"Slow down, speed racer," Natasha said.

"Sorry," Kaia apologized before she sidestepped the other woman.

Natasha rolled her eyes playfully before she made her way towards you.

"Is she okay?" You asked.

"She's fine," Natasha shook her head. "I think she has too much energy."

"With Kaia, there's never too much energy," You joked. You made a silly face at Brynn, who was now nestled comfortably in Natasha's arms. As you looked at her, a familiar pang of surprise hit you. Brynn's resemblance to Keith was undeniable, from the shape of her eyes to the soft curls that framed her tiny face. It was always startling, like a sudden reminder of the past you’d left behind. Not that it made you love her any less your love for her was boundless, unshakable. But there was something about seeing that resemblance, the way it drew you back to a chapter you had long since closed.

Life had turned out in ways you hadn’t expected. You hadn't seen Keith since that day in the tower when you’d said goodbye for what you hoped would be the last time. For the sake of the girls, you prayed it stayed that way. Brynn was yours, part of the little family you had built with Natasha and Kaia, and you were determined to keep her world safe and full of love.

Watching Natasha gently rock Brynn, you felt a deep sense of peace. This was your life now—one filled with love, laughter, and the kind of stability you once feared would never come.

"So, when were you going to tell me you finished with your last class? You're officially a graduate now," Natasha smiled. She buckled Brynn into the high chair all the while glancing back at you for an answer.

"Oh," You hadn't even given it a second thought. "I guess I didn't realize it until now. But yes, I'm done."

Natasha's smile widened as she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around you in a warm embrace. "I'm so proud of you," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

The hug was comforting, something you'd come to cherish deeply. You'd discovered over time that Natasha was incredibly affectionate, especially with you. She wasn’t just a hugger; she thrived on physical touch, always finding little ways to connect. Whether it was your feet in her lap during movie nights, her fingers gently massaging away the tension of the day or the soothing presence of her hand on your back, Natasha’s touch was always there, grounding you, reminding you of the bond you shared.

You hugged her back, letting yourself sink into the warmth of the moment. "I didn't even realize it," you admitted, feeling a bit sheepish. "I’ve been so caught up with everything, I didn’t take the time to acknowledge it."

"Well, I’m acknowledging it," Natasha said, pulling back slightly to look at you, her eyes shining with pride. "You’ve worked so hard for this, and you deserve to celebrate. We’ll have to do something special."

You smiled, touched by her thoughtfulness. "Maybe we could," you said, your heart swelling with affection.

Natasha's hand lingered on your arm, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin. "You’ve come so far, and I’ve loved watching you grow. You should be proud of yourself."

The sincerity in her voice took your breath away, and you found yourself at a loss for words. Instead, you pulled her into another hug, savoring the feeling of her arms around you, knowing that, with her support, you were truly on the path to healing.

"A hug without me?" Kaia padded into the kitchen. She sounded genuinely concerned which made you chuckle.

"You want in?" Natasha asked her.

Kaia nodded, reaching her hands up to you. You bent down to lift her. "Group hugs are the best," Kaia announced.

"They are the best," Natasha agreed. You were impressed with the little one's vocabulary and you'd suspect her time being the only child in the Tower contributed to that.

"Mommy?" Kaia looked at you. "When are we having lunch?"

"We can have it now," You told her. "Your plate is on the table."

"Yay!" She wiggled out of your hold and rushed to the dining table. "The last one to the table is a rotten egg." That one is all Sam's doing.

"You better hurry before she devours it," Natasha chuckled.

"She will," You nodded. You grabbed a hold of Natasha's hand and dragged her over to the table. "Come on, Mama." You teased.

Kaia's smile widened at your words.

You both sat down with the little girl. Kaia had already begun munching on her sandwich, a small dollop of jelly at the corner of her mouth. You grabbed a napkin and gently wiped it away.

This life was all you ever wanted.

**********

Hours later, you slipped out of the kids' room, the soft creak of the door barely audible in the quiet suite. The soothing lullaby coming from their room faded as you padded softly through the hallways.

As you wandered through the dimly lit halls, you decided to check in with JARVIS, “JARVIS, have you seen Natasha?”

“Miss Romanoff is on the sky deck,” Jarvis responded in his calm, neutral tone.”She requests your presence at your earliest convenience.”

Curiosity piqued, and you made your way to the sky deck. The elevator ride felt slower than usual, anticipation building with each passing second. When the doors finally opened, you stepped out into the crisp night air. You weren’t properly dressed for the slight chill. The sky deck was illuminated by a soft, gentle glow, and you were greeted by the flickering light of candles arranged in a cozy setup.

A small table was set up, adorned with an elegant tablecloth and a few candles casting a warm, inviting light. On the table, there was a neatly wrapped present with a small teddy bear attached to it. The teddy bear was wearing a cap and gown and was holding a tiny card that read: “Congratulations on your graduation.” Followed by a hand-drawn heart and Natasha’s signature.

Natasha was standing nearby, her silhouette illuminated by the candlelight. She turned as she heard you approaching, her eyes softening into a tender smile.

“What’s all this?”

“I wanted to celebrate with you,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of nervousness as if she was unsure of how you would react.

You felt a rush of warmth and gratitude. “Natasha, this is beautiful,” you said, your voice filled with emotion. You walked over to the table, taking in the thoughtful details. The teddy bear, the candles, the gift—it was all so perfectly Natasha, combining her warmth and affection with her desire to make you feel special.

“I just wanted to do something nice for you,” Natasha said, her gaze dropping to the gift. “You’ve worked so hard, and I’m so proud of you. I thought this would be a nice way to celebrate.”

You reached out, taking her hand in yours. “Thank you. This means more to me than you know.”

Natasha looked up at you, her eyes shining with emotion. You stepped closer, your free hand coming to rest on her cheek, stroking her skin gently. She leaned into your touch, and you could feel the heat radiating from her skin. You felt a spark of desire, your body drawn to hers.

Natasha seemed to feel it too, and she took a small step forward, closing the space between you. You felt your heart rate quicken as she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

"Is this a date?" You questioned as you pulled back. Natasha chuckled.

"Do you want it to be?"

You pretended to think about it for a second before nodding, "Yes."

"Good, because I got us food from your favorite restaurant," Natasha smiled, guiding you to sit at the table.

"Are we going to discuss what just happened?" You gestured to the spot you'd been standing only moments ago.

"What? You're not hungry?" Natasha feigned confusion.

"Oh, I'm very hungry," You grinned.

"Then we should eat," She replied, ignoring your teasing.

"I was talking about you," You said, watching as a slight blush spread across her cheeks. "That kiss was something I've been wanting to do for a long while."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "And now that we're on a date, I think we can safely say that we're a couple."

Natasha chuckled. "I think we've been a couple long before this."

"We have," You agreed, squeezing her hand.

Natasha smiled, and you couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked in the candlelight. Her hair was pulled back into a loose braid, and she was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans. "I'm sorry I didn't plan this out a lot better," She brushed a hand over her braid.

"Don't apologize," You told her. "We're both busy and we have two young girls. There's not a lot of time to plan these kinds of things. I also didn't tell you about the graduation thing so."

"I'll do better," Natasha promised.

"Nat, seriously, this is great," You shook your head. "I'm not saying it because I think I deserve less or anything like that. My favorite moments spent with you are when it's just us. You can't say if you'd taken me to a restaurant people wouldn't be all over you to take a picture or sign something."

"But-"

"I don't need anything fancy, okay?"

Natasha nodded. "I understand."

"Okay, enough serious talk," You said, picking up the present. You shake the box. "What is this?"

"Open it and find out," Natasha smirked.

You unwrapped the present and pulled open the box. Inside, nestled on a bed of soft fabric, was a tennis bracelet. Its design was understated yet refined— a delicate chain of polished metal, adorned with a continuous line of small, shimmering diamonds. The stones were evenly spaced, their natural sparkle catching the light with each gentle movement.

The bracelet was crafted with care, its smooth links fitting together seamlessly. It wasn’t flashy or overwhelming but exuded a quiet sophistication. It was the kind of piece that could be worn every day, adding a touch of elegance without being too showy.

It was perfect.

"Nat, it's beautiful," You said, holding the bracelet up to admire the way it shimmered. "I love it."

Natasha seemed relieved. "I'm glad. I had a feeling it would look good on you."

"You're so good to me," You sighed. "I honestly don't know what I'd do without you."

Natasha's gaze softened. "I think you'd do just fine," She said.

"You're too modest," You said, setting the bracelet back in the box. "You've been there for me through some of the hardest times of my life. You're not just a hero to me, you're my friend, my partner."

"You make me feel special," Natasha murmured, a faint smile crossing her lips. "And I'm grateful to have you in my life. I never imagined I could have this—a family, a home, someone to love."

There's a pause between the two of you.

"You love me?" You ask.

Natasha nods, her expression soft and open. "I do. I have for a while, I think. But I was afraid to admit it."

"And now?"

Natasha leans forward, resting her hand on yours. "I'm not afraid anymore. I love you, and I'm ready to take this next step with you."

Your heart swells with happiness, and you lean forward to kiss her, a soft, gentle kiss.

You pulled back, smiling softly. "I love you, too," you said, a sense of joy filling you as the words left your lips. "And I'm ready to take the next step with you, too."

Natasha's grin widened, and she stood up with the expectation that you would follow. She extended her arms to pull you close. You enjoyed the feeling of her body pressed against yours. You inhaled the familiar scent of her soap, the warmth enveloping your body. Being in Natasha's arms is your favorite place to be.

"You're beautiful," Natasha murmured.

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. You buried your face in her shoulder, savoring the moment. You were happy, truly happy, and you hoped that this feeling would never fade.

You pulled back slightly, still nestled in Natasha’s embrace, the cool night air mingling with the warmth of her body. You gazed out at the city lights below the sky deck. The stillness of the night provided a peaceful backdrop for your thoughts, and you found yourself reflecting deeply on the journey that had brought you here.

It was incredible to think about how you’d found someone who truly completed you. The path hadn’t been easy—your past with Keith had been filled with pain and uncertainty, and the process of rediscovering yourself had been long and demanding. Yet, as you stood here with Natasha, you couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of gratitude and clarity.

You understood now why waiting had been so important. You needed time to heal, to find your footing again, and to reconnect with who you were after everything you’d been through. That period of self-discovery had been essential for understanding your worth and what you truly wanted from life. It was during that time that you learned to recognize your own needs and desires and to appreciate your strength and resilience.

And Natasha—she was the one who added so much to this newfound sense of self. Her presence in your life was not just a comfort but a reflection of everything you had come to understand about yourself. She embodied the partnership you had always hoped for, one that was built on trust, understanding, and unconditional love. Natasha’s love had shown you that you deserved this, that you were worthy of such a profound connection.

As you held her close, you realized that all the waiting, all the time spent finding yourself, had led you to this moment of perfect clarity. You felt a deep, abiding sense of contentment, knowing that you were no longer defined by your past but by the love and strength you had cultivated within yourself. With Natasha by your side, you were ready to embrace the future with a renewed sense of hope and purpose.

The journey had been worth it, and standing here, enveloped in Natasha’s warmth, you felt a profound sense of peace. This was where you were meant to be.

fin

#black reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #natsxaddiction

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askinkiskarma · 1 year

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ꜰᴀʟꜱᴇ ɢᴏᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɪ: ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ 'ᴛɪʟ ɪ'ᴍ ʙᴜʀɴɪɴ' ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀᴄᴋʙᴜʀɴᴇʀ

pairing: dilf!Jake Sully x (f)human/avatar!reader

synopsis: Jake struggles to adapt with the way being next to you is making him feel.

this story will contain an unhealthy, co-dependent relationship, and dark themes (smut, mental health, death, violence, infidelity), so pls read at your own discretion.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, angst, age-gap (23 vs 43), (a little) smut at the end

wc: 6.1k words

a/n: umm, hi there?? do you remember me? i know it's been such a long time and I am so so sorry, but I am backkk besties!!! i am so happy to finally be able to complete chapter two and I hope you enjoy because it's quickly picking up pace. i really hope this isn't garbage, i'm so so out of practice and so insecure about my writing, but i still hope you are able to understand and enjoy this, because i am so excited to finally be back writing.

ps: this story will move perspectives and timelines a lott, so i hope it's not too confusing but pls do let me know if it is and i'll figure something out xx

replies and reblogs are massively appreciated, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: tanhi - bioluminescent freckles, paskalin - sweet berry (term of endearment)

series masterlist (x)

Maybe I'm just not better than this, I haven't tried Maybe life's less romantic when I don't wanna die You'd think I'd be a fast learner But guess I won't ever mind crisping up on your backburner

Jake has always felt comfortable in nature. Even back on Earth, the comfort of a bed was a luxury mostly lost on him throughout his life. It was peaceful, and comforting, feeling the ground beneath his feet, beneath his skin, malleable and nurturing, like a warm embrace. It was a given here, with the connection the Na’vi had with the world around them, with the forest surrounding them, that he would become one with it, too, that he would find solace in it. He did, most days. Just not tonight, as he lay on the slightly damp surface with an arm underneath his head for support, trying to find meaning in the stars that were still so beautiful and bright they took his breath away, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat and his wandering thoughts.

What was that? This whole day, that conversation that was still ringing in his ears like an insipid echo, making sweat bead on his forehead and trickle down his temples, until they were one with the soil. Why would you say that? What possessed him to confide in you about parts of his life he forsook, he gave up what felt like eternities ago?

He’s never truly noticed you before. The shy, timid girl who was far too attuned to others’ feelings to be able to overlook the disdain still present in some members’ of the clan when it came to anything human, always holed up in that lab he hated, that was at odds with everything he’s come to known and too much like everything he was trying his best to leave behind. It used to be different back then, when you were young, just a child craving connection and companionship, always tied to the hip to his eldest son, Neteyam, where Spider always took more to his two middle children. Par for the course, he thought. You and Neteyam were much alike, and somehow still managed to complement each other well, at the same time. He used to think you’d be good for him, back then. Not that he’d ever tell Neytiri that, the seemingly blasphemous idea, but yes - he thought that, even before you got an Avatar. But now, the thought made him uneasy - queasy, even. It wouldn’t be right. Your relationship would be frowned upon, and the Omaticaya would never look at you and see the future Tsa’hik that’s meant to lead them, to interpret their deity’s way. You were too fragile, too tuned in to your own and others’ emotions to be able to overcome it, and it would break you. Being with Neteyam would break you.

The night was torturous and slow, so many thoughts eating away at him like a disease. By the time Eclipse passed, he was ready for this trip to be over. Being here with you alone wasn’t good, he realises now. It was a mistake, to talk to you, to look into your eyes, to notice you. Because now that he did, he couldn’t stop. The way your Avatar body twitched in sleep, the way he couldn’t help wonder what you were doing in your human body - were you sleeping, like you should be? Was this on your mind, this night, the same way it was his? Were you cramming everything you once used to do in a day in the few hours you had in your now secondary body?

“Oh, kid. You better know how to fix this better than I do.”

“Is the Avatar safe?”

Norm trusted Jake with his life, and still, he knew he had to ask. The scientist in him, the Avatar program leader de facto, he’s always taken every responsibility, every chance to prove himself to the Na’vi and to his late mentor, Grace Augustine, very seriously. And that included taking care of you. You were not his blood, but you were his family, and he wanted to protect you, he wanted you to be alright. And so when Jake suggested getting some much needed tutelage, he was happy to wait until the night to hear all about it.

“You know it is.”

“How did it go?”

“Well, I think. He was right, I guess. I definitely feel a bit more comfortable outside of the village, of all the prying eyes.”

“Amazing. Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m… not sure. I think… I overstepped.” The blush in your cheeks and eyes glued to your fiddling feet made Norm’s brown eyebrow rise, a small grimace mirroring the one marring your beautiful, soft features. Still, he placed a hand on your head, gently brushing the stray hairs that were raised from the hours of being in the cryocapsule.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“He… told me about his life on earth. About his father, and I… made a comment. I have no idea how he reacted to it, but now that I’m here, I have no chance to fix it.”

“I’m sure whatever it is, it’s not as bad as you think. We always tend to overthink in our heads, and, as humans, we always tend to see the worst in ourselves. You, more than most.”

After helping you out, making sure you were settled on your wobbly, weak knees, he gave your shoulder a small squeeze and left to his quarters, but not before telling you one last thing.

“I think someone overstepping once in a while is exactly what a man who’s always obeyed needs. Go to sleep, love.”

The next morning, you felt dizzy as you woke up in the forest, slight groan audible with every stretch that allowed your sore muscles to loosen. You weren’t surprised to see Jake already up, busying himself with gutting a fish which would most likely constitute your breakfast. You gulped at the sight of him, veiny arms expertly handling the animal, his relaxed postured at odds with the slight frown on his face. Was that because of you? Was he mad at you? What possessed you to talk to him like he was a friend and not the Toruk Makto, the mighty Olo’eyktan? What possessed you to confess about an old crush, that died with your innocence about the world, about the same time you finally started to notice how the Omatikaya, particularly Neytiri, have looked at you all your life.

“Um, good morning.”

His eyes flickered over to you, lingering for a second longer than they needed to on your golden eyes before turning back swiftly, and the expression he adorned, a mixed between shame, guilt and desire, would have been obvious to anyone with more life experience, but not to you. Still, you noticed the blush in his cheeks, and couldn’t help the anxiety bubbling in your chest at what… or whom, might be the cause of it.

“‘Morning, kid. D’you sleep well?”

“I guess. You?”

“One of us have to stay up and keep an eye out for predators, you know. Can’t have you get eaten before I’m done teaching you how to defend yourself.” His smile was teasing, and if it was an effort to put your mind at ease, you did appreciate it. It made what you had to say next come out easier.

“Listen, Jake… what I said last night… it was none of m-“

“It’s alright, kid. It’s been a while since anyone’s contradicted me, apart from my wife, so…” his laugh was rugged and unforced, and you couldn’t help join in at the sonorous melody that rang in your ears and all of a sudden couldn’t imagine being without.

“So you don’t hate me?”

Jake’s eyes settled on your own, but not before flickering to your parted lips, so focused and eager, you were clinging on to his every word, waiting desperately to be put out of your misery.

“No, kid. I don’t hate you.”

Jake didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he did know one thing: it was just a stupid conundrum, nothing more. He didn’t feel anything for you, he was just taken aback by someone who seemed to be a lot more intuitive and incisive about someone’s inner workings than he gave you credit for. But that’s it. Just because you talked about something he cared about, that nobody asked him about, just because he confessed to you feelings he hasn’t said out loud in more than 24 years… that didn’t mean anything. He had a mate. A mate he loved, a mate he was sworn to forever. He had a family, children, a life. It was nothing. So he did his duty and helped you, keeping a safe distance and the conversation to a minimum, outside of instructions he ought to give you. Still, despite his apprehensions, being with you was easy. You were docile and listened well, you were quiet and kept to yourself, and, in the moments you did talk, there was a pureness, a light to your heart that made his own feel lighter.

“Good form. Now focus on the target and, when you’re ready…”

He watched as the arrow flew at high speed and travelled the length of the forest until it hit the ground next to a tree marked with an X - a makeshift target, but it did the job.

“Release.”

“Sorry.” Your ashamed disposition was as clear as day on your face and in your body language, and the purple twinge in your cheeks brought forth the luminosity of your tanhi and he hated himself for noticing it to begin with.

“Don’t be. You did well. Just make sure you draw all the way back before releasing. The target’s a bit narrower than you’re used to, so you’re doing well.”

His eyes softened taking you in. A sigh reverberated from deep within his chest and he said the words before he could stop himself, fully knowing he might regret them later.

“Let’s focus on your tracking instead for a little while. A change of scenery might do you well.”

He knew he should leave the tracking skills for back to the village, for someone else to teach you. He should just hurry back home - to his life, to his wife, to the normalcy he’s both craving and desperately afraid of. Any extra time spent with you is time where he could talk and say something, confess something else that is better left unsaid, fall prey to your uncanny ability to see through him, to will out words he hasn’t even realised he’s been dying to say out loud.

The ground was wet and cold, accentuated by the heavy moisture surrounding you. it still took getting used to, the air, breathing it in and out, like you were born to do so, such a colossal departure from the mask that covered your face for most of 23 years of your life. Still, it was a blessing, and one you made sure to appreciate with every breath you took. You forgot a little about it, all the gratitude, as the air felt particularly dense and thick as you took it in, as the man you now called mentor crawled skilfully like a steady, stealthy apex predator, little to no evidence of his presence other than the hand that was rested carefully on the small of your back, sending bouts of electricity all throughout your body. His voice was quiet as he spoke it near your ear, a velvet shroud that enveloped you and stirred something in you, something primal and carnal, something you’ve never felt before. What was happening to you? What was he doing to you?

“Lower, kid. The lower you are to the ground, the fainter your scent, the easier to hide.”

“I-it’s… hard.”

You could hear his smirk as he answered your quiet protestation, and you wondered whether he found it endearing or irksome, praying and hoping with as much power as you still had left in you that it was the former.

“I know, girl. Guess we’ll have to train those abs for more core strength, huh?”

You were happy your back was to him so he couldn’t see the violent blush haunting your cheeks, but even so, there was little you could do about your rampant heart or your heaving breath.

“I can hear your heartbeat like it’s echoing through the whole forest. And if I can, every other animal on a half a click radius can, too. You have to learn to calm your mind. Can you do that for me?”

Although what he was asking of you seemed impossible, considering his touch set your body and soul ablaze and your mind’s already erratic rumination seemed to reach an incandescent high, you tried, and although every muscle in your body hurt and ached, much like the first few times you allowed yourself to train in this body, you did as you were told, and, by early afternoon, you managed to track a pack of Yarik without even as much of a perk of the ear to give you away. You remember still, those early days, like they were happening to you now, as you stood here, in your bedroom, as the tears blurred the familiar space, the rock you were holding so tightly in your hand that it was cutting through your palm until all that inundated your sight was a watercolour red stain. You should have known then. What would follow. When he touched you, how it made you feel, you should have known to stay away. Norm once told you life, especially in your 20s, was about the joys and miseries of growing pains, but if you knew, how the journey was full of polarising extremes that pulled at every fibre of your being, how the high was insurmountable, but the pain was unbearable, maybe you would have thought twice before jumping in.

You wonder if he knew, then. If he felt it, too. You wonder if he realised that this was the beginning of the end, if the pull you felt was the same one that drove him to what came after, to all he ended up putting on the line. You wondered if it was all a ploy, getting you alone, or if he truly just wanted to help, innocent and undiscerning, just a dutiful Olo’eyktan. You thought you knew his heart, and how much it hid and how much it hurt, you thought you came to know it all through all this time, but as the bleeding in your heart mirrored your gashing palm, you weren’t sure anymore.

“Come.”

The Yarik were all gone now, unfrightened by your unassuming presence, which you took as a win. Still, you almost flinched when his now much louder voice rang above the quiet murmur of the forest.

“Where?”

“You worked hard today, so you deserve a break. And I know just the spot.”

Jake wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, what he was about to do, but he knew you needed something to break apart the times of pain and struggle. It was something he’s learnt, being here, on Pandora, as one of the people, that there was more to life than duty, than sacrifice and pain, then the daily struggle of fitting in, of pitching in, of simply existing. You had to live life, face it, enjoy it. And he wanted you to have that, especially now. He understood, more than most, what it was like to be inhibited and trapped to a space or a time, paralysed, literally or figuratively to your immutable circumstance. For him, it was his legs, trapping him in a body he hated and couldn’t recognise, in habits he took on just like the soldier he’s always been, because there was nothing else he could do. For you, it was your human body, that confined you to the lab, to a mask, to a life that could never be experienced fully, until now. So, despite a small part, probably the logical part of his mind, telling him he should just keep the training going or go home, he decided to share with you a place he found while hunting for food last night. And when he saw your face as you took it in, all doe-eyed and bushy tailed, ears twitching enthusiastically and a beautiful, innocent smile taking over your whole face, he knew he made the right call. He found his own smile brewing without being able to contain it, your joy so contagious, it was like the whole world shone just a little brighter than it had a few minutes ago.

“Jake… I love it. Thank you.”

The roar of the waterfall crashing on the otherwise peaceful lake almost drowned your words, and he laughed at the way you were tentatively approaching the water, as if scared that the caress of it on your skin might hurt your already aching muscles.

“Good. Let’s see how you like it up close.”

And with that, and a gentle tap on your shoulder, a loud splash ensued where you hit the water. He laughed yet again at the way you emerged from it, wet and startled and almost as if you could not believe what just happened.

“I-I… you… I cannot believe you did that!”

He couldn’t help how much fun it was, doing this, being with you - it was as if for the first time in ages, in decades, being alive was fun again. It was as if this forest was completely separated from his own, from what was waiting for him back home, the unsurmountable pressure that plagued him every second of every day, especially since the humans returned.

“Believe it, kid. You need to learn to let loose once in a while, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, but seemed intrigued by his preposition.

“I will if you will.”

And so he did. And for the next few hours, life was easygoing and fun, and spending time in your presence felt like coming out for a deep breath when it felt like he’d been drowning. He’s learnt you didn’t really know how to swim, and that the first song you’ve ever learnt on piano was one you deeply related to, that he’s made you promise you’d sing to him, and he found out plenty of small things, but nothing important, or of substance. It was clear to him more and more you loved being the one asking the questions and never the one answering them, and, soon enough, here you were again, curious as a cat about things nobody else was when it came to him.

“Did you ever expect it?” the sun was still shining brightly upon you both, warming your strong, supple bodies as you floated in the otherwise cold water. Eclipse wasn’t too far behind, but right now, neither of you particularly seemed to care.

“What’s that?” You continued floating, looking intently at the sky - focused or too embarrassed to look at him, Jake couldn’t really tell.

“Everything. What you did, what happened. Did you ever expect it, when you were offered a place on a shuttle to Pandora?” Once again, Jake was taken aback by your propensity of asking deep, profound, intimate questions like you were asking about the weather. He wondered briefly if you realised that that’s not how most people talked.

“No… I didn’t. I didn’t care, about the job or the mission. I cared about the money. And later, about the chance to get my legs back.”

“Do you ever miss it? Being… normal.”

“I was given a second chance - a purpose bigger than me, bigger than the measly life I left behind. I -“ this finally got your attention, and for the first time since your first question, you adjusted your position in the water so that you were fully facing him, inquiring eyes like beads of light and focus, intent on taking in every expression, every shift in mood, every slight adjustment of his face. You tried again, this time more forceful and intense, this time almost demanding of his full attention.

“That wasn’t my question. It’s a privilege, and an honour, to be who you are…”

He struggled as he always did to stifle a roll of his eyes and the speech he’s heard a million times before, from his wife, or his Tsa’hik, from every villager of the Omatikaya, from every other tribe leader he’s ever met through diplomatic missions. The answer he always kept at the ready was caught in his throat, because you kept going.

“…but I’m sure it’s also tiring, and hard. And lonely. So do you ever miss it? Do you ever wish things could go back to the way they were? Do you ever wish you didn’t have to be there for everybody all the time?”

He looked at you, pleading, not knowing whether he needed you to stop or keep going, only knowing it hurt, being torn at the seams like that between two choices that both led to heartbreak and epiphanies he wasn’t ready to face nor strong enough to deal with on his own, especially right now.

“Kid…”

“I went too far again, didn’t I? What is wrong with me?”

The attempt to get out of the lake was swiftly overthrown by his much stronger physique keeping you in place, caging you in between the edge of the lake and his muscular arms. Jake wasn’t an emotional man, he wasn’t one to be overcome with feelings that could cloud his judgement, that could interfere with a plan of action and yet, standing there, in that moment, your wide golden eyes looking fearfully and surprisedly up at him, the rapid pulse of your heart clearly visible in your carotid artery running up your neck, he felt his mind clouded and his own heart trembling with the overwhelming, unexpected urge to taste you, to feel those lips crashing over his, your tongues intertwined, his fingers wander in wondrous places he was sure no one else had before. He needed you, like he’s scarcely ever needed anything else, like he rarely ever allowed himself to. But you weren’t his, you never would be. And this was wrong and immoral, and it didn’t matter - that you seemed to be able to see right through him, that everything you said cut like a knife through all the bullshit and pretence, that your pupils were so wide they were swallowing the golden of your irises, that he could feel that you wanted it too. None of it mattered.

“You didn’t go too far. You just… see things. And ask things, no one else ever does. And it scares me, kid. You scare the shit out of me.”

“Me? I’m nothing. I’m… just a girl.”

“You’re everything.”

It was then you knew, that the crush was not a crush, it was so much more, too much more. It was then you knew you were heading for a potentially life-altering, life-ending fall that would break all your bones and leave you tethered on the ground, shattered and broken, unable to ever be put back together the same. And so you tried. You broke the moment that felt eternal, even though it pained you, to know at some point he wouldn’t be looking at you the way he had been then, and asked him to go home. You were quiet and compliant all the way back, and he made it easier on you by a performance of the same caliber. You didn’t know if it made you feel better or worse, that the moment clearly affected him too, enough that both of you looked like dogs with their tails between their tails as you arrived back in the village, without having spoken another word to the other, without as much as risking a glance in the other’s direction.

It was for the best. There was nothing, absolutely nothing that could come of entertaining this little troubled happenstance, and truth be told, you couldn’t wait for your life to get back to normal, where he barely spoke to you and you were free to withdraw within yourself the way you knew you had to in order to heal. You were able to get over your mindless crush once before, and you were certain to be able to do it again, especially given you would had the perfect opportunity in the annual clan celebration that you had come just in time for.

“How was it?” Neteyam was quietly hopeful about your trip with his dad, eager to be able to call you one of the People as soon as he possible could. Any effort to aid that, to allow you closer to a life he knew you deserve and knew you could make your own, was beneficial and encouraged in his mind. You loved Neteyam, and appreciate him for who he was and what he meant to you - a brother, a best friend, a confidant. You told him most things and yet, some things were just too ugly to share, and so you didn’t. Some things were better off swept under the rug, praying the lump they made was not big enough to trip on.

“Great. I think he was right, being away from all the prying eyes helped. Guess I’ll just have to show you tomorrow. Who knows? I might even be better than the mighty warrior soon, eh?”

He threw his head back and laughed, and you joined in his joy, already feeling better just being away from him, leisurely walking trough the village and helping out with anyone who needed a hands for tonight’s celebration.

“Dream on, paskalin. Although, you could show me what you learnt tonight, and maybe even win a prize in the knife throwing contest. Better than sulk all night in a corner the way I know you’re itching to do.”

“Actually, I wasn’t planning on doing that. Not tonight.”

“Oh?” You wish you hadn’t said that, because you should have realised Neteyam would be curious and it was a subject you didn’t feel ready to talk to anyone about, especially a man, a beautiful, glorious, obviously-experienced one, such as your best friend.

“I just mean, it’s time, you know? To try to live my life. Maybe even find someone with whom to share it with.”

“Y-you mean… like a mate?”

Neteyam looked taken aback by your confession, so much so that he stopped in the middle of the path, making two children bump into his legs and fall down behind him. It took a lot to make Neteyam flustered, and so you couldn’t understand why your words affected him so much. Was it so unsettling to people, the thought of an Avatar finding love on the planet that wasn’t quite home, but was the only chance at home you would ever get? Were you so repulsive as a person that the one who knew you the best thought it hard to digest that you could ever be loved by a man?

“Forget about it, Neteyam. I’ll be at the celebration, alright? I should go get ready.”

You left before you could hear his excuses or explanations - you knew you were sensitive, probably too sensitive. You knew you were probably overreacting, and his words didn’t have any malintent, and you knew he was most likely just taking a second to adjust to a new stage of your life you’ve never shared with him before. You knew all of these and more, and yet, your heart was tired and bruised, your mind a tumultuous whirlwind of doubt and misery. You needed time, time to heal, time to think. Time you didn't have, when the celebration was upon you.

You almost wanted to laugh now, months after that night happened, at how stupid you had been that night, how desperate and pathetic. You knew about some Na'vi, certain warriors who loved the idea of humans, of experimenting with them, of using them. You've heard the stories, you've seen the scientists coming back to the lab with them, you've been around when they talked about how good it was, how necessary the release, how passionate and life-changing the experience. In your head, that was exactly what you needed then: some sex with some random Na'vi who wanted to show you a good time, help you forget about the one you really wanted. It wasn't hard enough to find one that night, especially after you won your prize in the knife throwing competition, when the warmth of liquid courage was still embedded deep within your throat and soul, much to Neteyam's dismay. Still, the performance attracted attention, of one man in particular you cared about. Strong, 10 feet tall and muscular, he was looking at you like a meal and right then, you wanted nothing more to be devoured. You wondered what your life would have been like if that night went differently than it did. You wondered...

He barely noticed it, his wife’s touches or his clan members’ words of admiration or respect, not when the only thing his mind could focus on was the way his hand was caressing your shoulder and down your arm in gentle and intimate touches that felt too familiar for two people who have seemingly barely ever interacted before. His skin crawled at the sweet, shy smile you were sending his way and at the slight tint of purple he could see in your cheeks. You were too pure for this, Jake knew. Too pure for the intentions clear on his face that he didn’t think you fully understood, how this was all a game, a conquest, how you were a prize to be won, a trophy to be paraded around to the Na’vi who loved to brag about fucking the Avatars, the humans, the aliens. It was a game to him, and you… you weren’t a game to be played, not to Jake.

To his surprise, he realised he was angry with you. Angry that you were humouring him, that you were giving into it, that you were enjoying it. That guy was not good enough for you, and you should know that. You should know that for your first time being touched, being someone else’s, you needed someone who knew how to handle you, how to make you feel good, show you what it feels like to give in to your wildest dreams and fantasies. You needed someone to teach you. The fury bubbling just beneath the surface worried him.

You weren’t his. You were free to do as you wished, and the thoughts that plagued him as the mother of his children was sitting in his lap, perfectly unaware, were enough to pool other feelings, like guilt and shame, and form a heady concoction of emotions that he knew sooner or later would explode all around him. None of the feelings trumped the relief that washed over him as soon as he saw Lo’ak approach the two of you and break apart the scene, and right then, in that moment, Jake never felt more grateful for his troublemaker son and his propensity for meddling in other people’s business.

You looked disappointed with the interruption, slightly irked at his son and at the way the hand that was running up and down your thigh was now vacant from the spot you obviously thought it belonged on. The boy was clearly annoyed at Lo’ak, and a smirk breeched the carefully constructed expression resting on the Olo’eyktan’s face - annoyed or not, everyone knew better than to challenge one of his sons. So, with a careful goodbye, he was gone, leaving you gesticulating widely in his direction and clearly despondent with the outcome. It wasn’t long before you left for your tent, and Jake knew that if he was to survive this night, he’d have to be careful not to give in to the one thing he wished for the most in the world.

Your shower was hotter than what you were used to, hot enough to hopefully scald away the shame and embarrassment you felt now that you were sober once more. Your life seemed to be comprised mostly of those, recently, and while it was somewhat easy to forget how badly you fared in training your Avatar body once you got back to your bedroom and the safe confines of the labs, this new, fresh development lingered like a cold sore, painful whenever you remembered it. Did anyone else apart from Lo’ak see you, shamelessly flirting and allowing a Na’vi warrior to feel you up? Did everyone know how desperately you wanted someone to take you away and make you forget about the one man you actually wanted, the man who made all the other ones pale in comparison, the one man who you couldn’t have? You knew it was so wrong, how badly you craved his touch, what effect even a fleeting image of him in the back of your mind had on you, how your slick was running down your legs, how your brain couldn’t stop conjuring all the ways he could teach you how to be, how to love, how to live. How you knew his touch would ruin you and put you back together, kill you and finally bring you to life.

As you fastened your towel onto your body and opened the door to your bedroom, you were startled to find the one man you couldn't shake from your mind sitting on your bed, eyes wandering over your barely dry body.

“God, Jake, you scared me!”

You couldn't believe he was in your room, as if by thinking about him hard enough you manifested him here. He was so tall, so much bigger than you as you stood now, in your human body, frail and delicate and so easy to break. He barely fit on your bed and in your room, taking most of the walking space, so much so you struggled to adjust your position to face him properly.

“…What are you doing here?”

“What were you doing with that grunt at the party?”

You couldn't believe your ears, settling on a double take as you considered his question carefully, mulling over every word in your mind, as if doing so will finally reveal a secret meaning to it that you couldn't quite understand yet.

“Pardon?”

“You heard me, kid.”

His words were dry and humourless. There was no levity to them, or to the situation, the room filled with thick tension, and for the first time in your life, you were almost...scared of him. Why did he care?

“I… he… we…”

“That’s what I thought. Why him? If you want someone to mate, I’m sure there’s better options out there.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Jake.”

You started turning around, dizzy from the way his presence was making you feel and tired of giving him so much power to do so. You didn't manage to, though, as his large hand caught your forearm and held you in place, and when you were forcefully turned back to look at him, you saw it all. The hurt. The anger. The... betrayal. The jealousy.

“No, this isn’t how this works. You always ask questions and get me talking about shit I haven’t said out loud in decades, or ever. You’re not going shy on me now, not anymore. So why him?”

Fuck it.

“Because it’s not you, ok?! Because it can’t be you! And I don’t know if you’ve realised this, but it’s not like I have a line of men willing to mate or even be seen with a human, an alien, a sky demon. So it has to be him! That’s why.”

“Kid…”

The tears were pooling in your eyes like beaded pearls making your vision blurry, and the struggle with which you've been trying to remove yourself from his grasp finally paid off because you did it, you finally manage to break free, but it was too late. You were exhausted, and you knew it was time to lay it all on the table, once and for all, for him to know, and to disprove, for him to break your heart so you could finally move on.

“No, Jake! You’re in my head, all the time. It’s messing with my mind, the deluded reality I’ve been living in. You talk to me, and you notice me, and you give me attention. You touch me, and you look at me like…”

Soft sobs broke your words apart and let their meaning linger all around you, sounding like infinite echoes in the room. It would all be over soon.

“...Like you want me. And I know you don’t, and I know it’s not real, and it hurts me! So I need something else, I need someone else, I need someone to show me there’s other men out there, to pull me out of this nightm-“

His lips, soft and needy, not at all like you imagined them to be, ceased your pleading words before you got a chance to speak them. It took a second, just one second, for you to understand what was happening, to process the way the kiss was everything you've ever wanted and more than you've ever dreamed about, the way he was desperate and hungry for your touch, for you to reciprocate his feelings... so you did. And you melted under his touch, and before long, the whole world disappeared from view, and there were no consequences to your actions, and all you knew, all you needed... was him.

You were both panting when you finally came up for air, and all you wanted was more. More. A little more. Always more.

“Fuck, kid. You’ve got no idea how much I want you. But I’ll show you.” His hand wandered down your much smaller body, until his large fingers found the knot of your bathrobe, that he skilfully undoes, before sliding them over your soaked folds. “Shit. Look how wet you are for me. Let me show you, please.”

With a nod, you dropped your head backwards and knew, in your heart, whatever was next would be the beginning of the end, of you, of him, of everything you’ve both worked so hard for and yet, all you felt was unadulterated, heavenly, euphoric bliss.

Maybe I blame my mother bleeding into my stride Maybe it was my father and his wandering eyes (It's their fault that) I'll always be in your corner 'Cause I don't feel alive 'til I'm burnin' on your backburner

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feyhunter78 · 2 months

Text

Chapter Sixteen - The first move has been made, and the Stark boys take what is theirs. Ch 17

My darling Lord Robb,

First, I must thank you for my gifts, they are quite lovely and as you requested, I wore them on my nameday this night past. Many paid me compliments, even Tommen which I must admit was quite humorous. Oh, my love, I long for the day when we are united, I grow tired of waiting. I know it is harsh, but today I was forced to spend three hours listening to Tommen describe his blossoming sword skills. I know he is a child, but the desire within me to tell him that he is nothing compared to my true husband, the Young Wolf, was quite strong.

Y/N reminds me that I must be patient, but I think that is hypocritical considering she has been in such a foul mood since Jon has decided he must act proper as to not get them in trouble. She believes I do not know of their affections, of their dalliance, which I find both insulting and amusing. Only a blind man would be unable to see what is between them, and even a blind man would be able to hear in their voices the affections they have for one another, even now as Jon pretends he is nothing more than a guard.

I am hoping they shall resolve this little spat before you come to save me from this lion’s den. I would like there to be no conflicts within our family, so rest assured I will do all I can to assist either y/n or Jon so that our ascension to power is a peaceful one—at least within our own houses. There will be nothing to distract us upon meeting.

I anxiously await your next letter and the day when we may finally cease writing and speak face to face.

- Yours in earnest, Margaery

Robb presses his lips to her signature before folding the letter and slipping it into his pocket, earning a snort from Theon.

“Will you be this unbearable when you finally get your hands on the girl, or can I expect a reprieve from these disgusting displays of undying affection?” Theon asks, pressing his hand to his forehead pantomiming a swooning figure.

It looks ridiculous as Theon is fully cloaked, his armor hidden by the black fabric, his voice low as they wait for the signal.

They had been lying in wait ever since word had gotten out that the royal family was soon to pass by on their return trip to King’s Landing. The snail’s pace they had taken down to Riverrun to meet with Stannis then here to Highgarden had nearly driven him mad with boredom, but they could not risk alerting the Lannisters further than they already had. Now a mere week after Margaery’s nameday they have set the trap along the Roseroad.

Robb can hardly contain his excitement, soon he will be able to see her, speak with her, take her hands in his own. She will be angry, yes, that she will no longer be queen, that he had deceived her, but she would be queen of his heart. When he thought about such a line, the back of his head still stung from where Sansa had smacked him for it. It will be no replacement for Queen of the Seven Kingdoms , she said, but Robb hoped Margaery would forgive his deception.

It was not even truly a deception born of his own mind; it had been her grandmother's. The North did not want the Iron Throne, would not fight to put one of their own upon it, and his father was far too honorable a man to go against Stannis. There was no other suitable option. Stannis himself was married, had only a daughter, Margaery could not climb any higher, and she would not be safe if she remained married. Not with the truth of Tommen’s birth spreading farther and farther each day.

“You want me to scare her a bit, make you seem more the hero? Might ease her anger.” Theon offers an easy smile spreading across his face.

“Is that what you did to win over my sister?” Robb drawls, scanning the dimly lit road, they should hear the wheelhouses any moment now.

Theon chuckles quietly. “It was I who carried her through the streets of King’s Landing, who kept her safe from the ruffians and murders among the crowd that day.”

“Funny, Sansa said you held onto her sleeve and my father’s tunic as you ran, that you swore you would never visit a brothel again if you survived to the edge of the city.”

Theon scoffs but shifts in his crouched stance. “I have not visited a brothel since then, this is true, but I did not hold onto your father.”

“Just Sansa then?”

“Fuck you Stark.” Theon snarls, but there’s no bite to his words, only the playful ribbing that Robb has grown accustomed to since they were children.

“Will you two shut up?” Dacey Mormont hisses, her eyes like will o’wisps shining in the dark.

Then he feels it, the slight tremor in the ground, Grey Wind's ears perking up. The rush of adrenaline as the carts and wheelhouses begin to appear flanked by guards, guards who are either on their side or far too tired to expect an ambush on a road as well guarded as the Roseroad.

Robb counts the wheelhouses and carts as they pass, he will know hers on sight, Lady Olenna Tyrell had sent him a letter describing it down to the spokes on its wheels. She would not have any other man kidnap her granddaughter. Finally, finally, he spots it, gold trimmed, a rose embossed on each door, the curtains, a red crushed velvet pulled closed, and a freshly repaired third spoke on the second wheel.

Glass shatters up ahead, flames leaping into the air, horses rearing up, and it is time.

Jon guides his horse away from your wheelhouse, towards Robb and Theon. This has been the plan, it has always been the plan, though he had not known it until his father appeared.

“Brother.” Robb says, leaning forward to clasp Jon in a one-arm hug. He is smiling, joyful as if the sky was not filled with smoke, and the road alight with flames, as if the sounds of battle did not rage around them.

“I thought you were told?” Jon asks, confusion adding to the heavy stone of guilt in his stomach.

“I was, nothing has changed, we were raised together, you are my brother as Theon is.” Robb shrugs, nodding towards the Ironborn who had gone to fetch you and Margaery.

Jon squeezes his brother tightly. “Thank you.”

Robb pulls back with a smile. “Do not thank me, not until the anger of our wives dies down.”

Wives. Robb has no fear, he calls Margaery his wife, caring not that she is married to another, but Jon does not share that courage. He cannot shake off the lingering aches of being labeled a bastard all his life so easily. There is still fear someone better will steal you away, that you will resent him for the stigma that followed him for so long.

“Fucking hells.” Theon curses loudly, stumbling back as you and Margaery bust out of the wheelhouse, pushing past him, a blade clutched in Margaery’s hand.

“What a woman.” Robb whistles lowly, kicking his horse into a gallop after you both.

Jon follows, tugging the hood of his cloak further down.

Robb sweeps Maragery from her feet, but your hand is still in hers, and you cry out her name, as she cries out yours. Raw fear and desperation are clear in your eyes, and you dig your heels into the ground, pulling Margaery from Robb’s grasp, the two of you tumbling to the dirt.

You quickly help her up, just in time for Robb to round his horse and ride towards you both. Jon grabs you as he passes by, his arm an iron band around your waist keeping you locked against his chest.

You struggle against him, screaming when Robb sweeps Margaery onto his horse. “The Queen, save the Queen!”

Your cries draw the attention of some Lannister guards who are fighting against men Jon remembers from Winterfell, arrows fly and take advantage of their distraction, the Lannister men crumbling to the ground.

You scream again, terrified, and it guts him to realize you are screaming his name, begging him to save you.

Why has he not spoken? Why has he let you believe he was a stranger? It is the adrenaline, the rush of battle that has paralyzed his tongue, dried out his mouth and he finally forces it to work, unsticking it from the roof of his mouth. “Y/N, y/n, it is me, my starlight, you are safe.”

You twist in his hold, terrified eyes meeting his. “Thank the gods, Jon, we must turn back, we must rescue Margaery.”

“She is well, all is well, I promise.” Jon says, kicking his horse into a gallop.

Robb cannot say if he is upset or overjoyed at Margaery’s reaction to the news. It had been a few hours now, the moonlit fading, the sun soon to rise. First, she was frightened, then apologetic when she saw the cut she had given Theon with her dagger, then she was smiling, and it is a smile he would gladly give his life for. But now, now she is angry, her words calm, her voice even, and soft, but he can see it in her eyes.

“You deceived me, My Lord, you said I would be queen.” She says, fixing him with a look that he knows he will see much more of in their shared years to come. “Now you tell me Stannis’ dour wife will sit in my place instead. That you have organized a kidnapping to lure the remaining Lannisters here, that way Stannis and your father will have no trouble taking King’s Landing.”

“My Lady, it was your grandmother’s idea, Stannis would not hesitate to lock you away or marry you off to an old, fat bannerman of his if you had attempted to keep your position as queen. He might have even ordered you killed if an agreement had not struck for your safety.” He explains, taking her hands in his and pressing them to his lips, they are as soft as he imagined.

Margaery cannot hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips, not from him, even though her eyes still flash dangerously. “So, you thought to make that choice for me? What if I wished to marry an old, fat lord?”

He chuckles, and presses her hand to his chest, allowing her to feel not only his steady heartbeat but the hardened muscle. Y/N had written to him of Margaery’s likes and dislikes, what caught her eye, what displeased her. “If you truly want that, I am sure there is a Frey somewhere you could marry.”

He slides her hand down slowly, taking a step closer, his voice low. “But I have waited a very long time to finally set my eyes upon you, to feel your hand in mine, and if I am to send you to a Frey, at least allow me the honor of hearing my name fall from your lips.”

Her eyes flicker to his, then to his lips, then back again, a smirk curling on her own as her lashes flutter. “Like this, Robb? ”

She says his name so sweetly he nearly groans, but he stands firm, “not quite.”

Margaery pouts up at him, then tangles her fingers in the laces of his tunic and pulls him forward, going up on her toes, her lips parted so invitingly. “Do not be mean to me, Robb, I am to be your wife.”

Old gods take him, he is not Jon, he does not possess the strength his cousin does. He cups her cheek and kisses her, crushing her to him, walking her backwards until she falls onto his bed, him hovering above her, refusing to relinquish her lips.

Margaery sighs beneath him, carding her fingers through his hair. “Was that better?”

“Much better.” He laughs breathily, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips.

“I am queen Robb; I wish to still be queen.” She says softly, looking up at him with those doe eyes, she is so beautiful, a goddess of spring.

Robb caresses her cheek, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose. “I wished to keep you as queen, but it would not be safe. I offer you myself instead, and the whole of the North, I shall remake it to your desires.”

She ponders his words, and for a moment cold fear strikes through him.

“I guess that will be enough. I shall draw up plans quickly, and present them to you for your input, you know the capabilities of your people far better than I do.” She says, giving him that radiant smile, her hair splayed out, her lips kiss swollen, her eyes lowered demurely.

“Do not look at me like that, I know you are much too spirited to play such a meek part.” He says, flipping them over and running his hand through her hair, the silky tresses falling through his fingers like water.

Margaery plants her hands on his chest, smiling coyly. “You do not wish me to play your good little wife?”

He chuckles. “You may pretend with all others, but not with me. I have seen you Margaery, the core of you, we have spent too long writing each other for me not to know who you truly are.” He sits up, brushing the hair from her neck, his fingers trailing down the pure, unblemished skin. “And I quite like you without the mask, will you allow me to see more?”

Her breath catches in her throat, and he takes that as a yes.

Jon sees you bite your lip and glance at him, the sounds from within Robb and Margaery’s tent are soft, but not soft enough to spare you both the embarrassment. “Do you think they know we are here?”

He knows his ears are bright red, he can feel them burning, and he shakes his head. “I doubt it, Robb is bold, but…not that bold.”

“Perhaps we should come back at a later time?” You suggest shuffling your feet in the dirt.

The sounds grow louder, and Jon takes your arm, walking briskly away. “I think that would be best.”

You both wait until you are far enough from the tent and dissolve into peals of laughter, doubling over.

“I cannot believe—oh I must tease her for that later.” You get out through your laughter, the moonlight giving you an ethereal glow.

Jon wipes tears of mirth from his eyes. “I knew he was eager to meet her, but I thought his honor would hold till her marriage was annulled, at the very least.”

You look at him, laughter dying down, a smile on your beautiful face. “I guess I cannot blame them, I do not know what I would do if we were separated for such a long time.”

Jon reaches for your hand, caressing the soft skin, admiring the silver ring gracing your hand. His father had brought it from Starfell, it was his mother’s, a starburst amethyst that shined when the light hit it. “I do not think I would bed you where anyone could hear, even if we had spent years apart.”

You give him a mischievous smile, taking a step closer, your free hand on his chest, your lips mere inches from his. “Even if I asked?”

He presses your hand in his to his lips instead of responding, and you giggle.

“Let us pray we shall never be parted then.” You say, rising up on your toes to press your lips to his in a quick kiss.

His cheeks burn, and he ducks his head. “Y/N, someone could see.”

“We are to be married remember, and we are among your cousin’s men, I am sure they will not begrudge us one small kiss.” You tease, ghosting your lips over his as you speak, your fingers sliding between the laces of his tunic.

“You are a temptress, a vile, vile temptress.” Jon groans softly, his eyes fluttering shut as you begin to draw circles on his chest with your nails. He bridges the gap between you two, even the scent of smoke that lingers on your clothing can smother the smell of your jasmine perfume. He nearly groans again when you part your lips for him so readily, desperate to further intertwine yourself with him.

A familiar sharp cough breaks the two of you apart, and Jon swears beneath his breath. “Theon.”

“Jon.” Theon smirks.

“Lord Greyjoy.” You say, brushing the hair back from your face in an attempt to look put together.

“Lady Lannister.” Theon nods his head towards you, still smirking. “We have been called to gather. Tyrion Lannister has sent his response.”

TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo, @legolastheleafyelf, @faerie-film, @wifiatthetrainstation, @duskypinki, @tartine-de-pain

#meg's writing #jon snow x reader #jon snow x y/n #jon snow x you #lannister!reader #Jon Dayne #jon snow imagines #robb stark x margaery tyrell #robb stark #margaery tyrell #theon greyjoy #theon x sansa

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theseeingfawn · 2 months

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Hi Everyone, I have been working on a small town Elriel fic for awhile now and finally decided to post. This is my first time writing fan fiction so please be gentle with me.

Summary:

Elain Archeron, beloved sweetheart of the quaint town of Hewn Hills, yearns for a life beyond the constraints and expectations placed upon her by her family and community. Azriel Rosehall, a captivating yet misunderstood outsider, struggles with the prejudices of the town as he endeavors to forge his own destiny. Drawn to each other by an undeniable connection, Elain and Azriel are determined to be together, even if it means bringing trouble to the charming small-town. “Everything that's worth having is some trouble. - L.M. Montgomery

Chapter 1: Matchmaker Mayhem | Read on A03

Elain

It's official, this is the worst date I have ever been on. It doesn't make sense. The man is gorgeous, almost devilishly so. I've heard nothing but praise about his charm and wit. I've even seen it myself when he didn't think I was looking. But, the man is a nervous wreck and awkward . Or is it me? Maybe we are just feeding off each other's horrible vibes creating a vortex of our own personal hell. I had been reluctant when my sister all but demanded I go on a date with her friend Lucien. For the last couple of years, all Feyre could talk about is how great Lucien is and how funny and on and on and on . It was almost nauseating. I felt like Feyre was close to hiring a skywriter to let the world know that I was destined for her best friend. Ever since she married Rhysand she has taken up the mantle of matchmaker. So, to spare myself from further harassment I relented. Sure, I knew Lucien, but we have never had a meaningful conversation. Nothing other than pleasantries. I also work hard to keep him at arm's length, despite how often we are forced to interact. I see I was right to keep my distance. He seems as reluctant to be here as I am. I almost feel sorry for him… almost .

I'm glad I had the foresight to pick Velaris as our meeting spot and not Hewn Hills, the small town in the suburbs, where we live. I adore Hewn Hills but it is full of nosy nellies and busybodies. My baby sister is the biggest busybody of them all. So, when I suggested my favorite upscale restaurant in the heart of the city, Lucien readily agreed. It would seem he isn’t a big fan of all the meddling either. Though, I assume for different reasons. Thankfully, no one we know is here to witness our nightmare of a date. It didn't make sense. Despite knowing Feyre for years, and serving on our town council together, Lucien doesn't seem to know a thing about me. Well, other than surface level stuff. I sighed internally, of course he doesn't know much about me. My sisters do not truly know me. They only see the version of me that they wish to see, not the real me. No one really did .

I sit here staring off into the distance like I'm lost in a vision, imagining the bubbly young waitress will come back to end my misery. Really, how many awkward silences must I suffer through? As if reading my mind, Lucien broke the quiet tension with a question. “So, you like to garden? What vegetables do you grow,” Lucien asked with the enthusiasm of a root canal patient.“I actually don't grow vegetables, just flowers and herbs for my shop. Vegetables are much more difficult to grow than people realize.” He nodded. Please, where is the waitress.Then it occurred to me, I could use the bathroom and get away. Maybe I could slip out the window and run. What would he do? Tell my sister I gave him the slip? I'd pay good money to see that. No one would believe him. Yes, sneaking out is the answer. I feel like I've won the lottery for coming up with this brilliant idea. “Excuse me, I am just going to freshen up,” I say with syrupy sweetness. I hope I look graceful and not like I am barreling toward the back of the restaurant like I am fleeing the scene of a crime, but I doubt it. Once behind the closed door of the single occupant bathroom I take my first deep breath of the evening. I look around but there is no window, just a floor to ceiling mirror. Son of a bitch. I sigh and gaze at my reflection searching for an answer. Maybe it was my appearance that rendered him stupid. I’ve heard all my life that I’m beautiful. Not the polite kind of beautiful that every mother dotes onto their daughters. But, the type of beauty that could be used. Before she died, my mother dressed me up like her own personal Barbie doll. Taking personal credit for my appearance and awkwardly telling anyone who would listen that I got it from my mama. I cringe just thinking about it. Even my father had dragged me along to client dinners to dangle me in front of prospective clients like a juicy carrot. My sister Nesta is always watching my back, weary of everyone's intentions. Feyre, the bane of my existence at the moment, all but pimped me out to the dullest man in Hewn Hills because she thought her friend's happiness was more important than mine. Just a pawn to be used to make her life more exciting.

That's not entirely fair.

I know I’m seen as a goodie goodie, a pushover. Maybe I am, I caved to Feyre's demands after all. My sisters love to remind me how I am too sweet for my own good. A chaste virginal angel that they must protect at all costs. My reflection taunts me. Not a hair out of place, a flawless exterior that was pleasing to the eye. But, what had that gotten me? A failed engagement. A cage of my own making. Putting everyone else first and myself second. I shake away the bitterness, burying it deep down. It could be worse. At least Lucien is polite and respectful. I could do this, I could muster some enthusiasm and carry on with this date. No matter how much I wanted to shrink into myself. He is just a man and once it was over I could tell Feyre I had given it my best effort but we weren't a love match. Though I knew I didn't give Lucien my best, in many ways I blame him for what happened with Graysen. I just wanted tonight to be over with so I could go home and binge watch tv without a bra on.

With a new sense of purpose, I step back into the bustling restaurant and head toward the table. Lucien has his back to me as he chats on the phone, “you don't understand Jurian. She's so… so… meek, boring even. I don’t know why Feyre keeps insisting we’re soul mates. I know, she is beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman I've ever seen but she is dull , a snoozefest. Just call me in five minutes with a fake emergency so I can bow out.” Stunned, I dropped my head in defeat. Well, I couldn't blame him for wanting out of the world's most awkward first date. But, to call me meek and boring is just mean. I fought the urge to cry. No need to spill tears over Lucien Vanserra. Besides, it's not like he is the sly and charming man I've heard everyone drone on about. He is the snoozefest. He has barely said a word to me all evening. He is the headliner of the snoozefestival. How dare he!!!

I slide back into my chair and slap on the biggest fake smile I can muster. “Has our waiter stopped by?” I asked, pretending that I don't want to kick him in the shin. “No, not yet. This place is getting packed. It's hard to even hear what you're saying, we can just listen to the music and Ow!” Lucien hunches over and grabs his leg. “Oh my, I'm so sorry! I went to cross my legs but didn't realize you were so close,” I feigned innocence as I bat my eyes at him. I turn my head from his scowl before I start laughing. My eyes peruse the growing crowd of people streaming through the door and there he is.

His dark hair swept back off of his face, dressed in an immaculate black suit that hugs his sculpted form. I don't let myself admit this often but I have a tiny, itty bitty crush on Rhysand's mysterious brother, Azriel . Even his name is beautiful. I have only interacted with him at family functions but the sight of him alone is enough to make me swoon. He is always busy working some sort of mysterious job. I never get a straight answer on what it is that he does because it is all very hush hush. I caught bits and pieces from eavesdropping on conversations when no one was paying attention to me. They rarely pay attention to me. I know it involves surveillance work and traveling, which only adds to his allure. I like to pretend he is a spy like James Bond or even a kingpin in the mob. A dangerous job for a dangerous man. At least I like to pretend he has a dangerous side, he certainly looks like he does. He has dark features and is always draped in black and cobalt blue clothing. He is stoic with a piercing hazel gaze that could slice right through you. He is hard to read but I feel like his eyes give him away. It's the way the corners wrinkle slightly or glow brighter when he is happy. It's how directly he stares when he is mad and fighting the urge to speak out. Despite his appearance, he is always kind and thoughtful toward me. He holds the door for me or pulls out my chair at the dinner table. One time, after I spent all of Thanksgiving day cooking, he took the serving dish from my hands so I could sit down and enjoy the meal I worked so hard on. He even made everyone wait until I sat to eat. Men are rarely that chivalrous these days. The memory sends my heart racing. Azriel is quiet, but not awkward the way Lucien is currently behaving. He is confident and reserved in a way that adds to his enigmatic persona.

I watch him as he walks through the door and turns to the stunning blonde behind him, Mor. He was on a date with her . I recall the time I overheard Feyre telling Nesta that Azriel was in love with Mor. It made sense I suppose, she is gorgeous and has a way about her that makes it seem like she was lit from within. But a part of me doesn’t believe it. Feyre is often wrong about these kinds of things. Look at me and Lucien, she thinks we are fated. But, this date feels like pulling teeth. “Elain, did you hear me?” I shook myself out of my daze, “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Lucien let out a sigh, “I asked if you like bread,'' Confused, I looked at the basket that was placed in front of me. I want to roll my eyes. Does he not remember that I own a bakery? “Who doesn't like bread, Lucien?” He scoffed, “you would be surprised, there are people out there who can't tolerate it.” I blink once, and then again. “That was a joke,” he states as if he were teaching humor to a martian. “Oh,” is all I can muster as I look at the bread, pleading with it to save me from this man. A dad joke, really?

Suddenly there is a long dark shadow cast over the table. My eyes shoot up to meet hazel ones. “I hope I'm not interrupting,” Azriel says, appearing like an answered prayer. “Azriel! It’s so good to see you,” I beamed, hoping the relief in my tone isn’t as obvious as it seems. The corner of his mouth ticks upward, “it's good to see you too Elain. I hope you have been well.” Gods he is beautiful and tall. Why is he so tall? He smells divine. I wonder if he is just visiting for a few days? Lucien clears his throat. I look at him, realizing I am still on a date. “Azriel, this is Lucien, you know, Feyre's friend.” Azriel slowly turns to Lucien and dips his head in greeting, turning back to me. “I didn't expect to see you out in the city,” he says with a curious look in his eyes. I smile shyly, “I'm… here on a date.” He looks back to Lucien slowly raking his gaze up and down, a hint of displeasure in his assessment. “I see. I'm just grabbing a bite with Mor.” He turns towards his companion who is sitting at a table across the restaurant. “I just wanted to stop by and say hello. I’ve taken a new assignment and will be in this area for the next few months. Hopefully we will see more of each other.” My smile widens, I would certainly love to see more of him. Azriel's lip quirks up ever so slightly on one side. BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.

Lucien apologizes and grabs his phone, a puzzled look on his face. “Hold on. It's my roommate. It's odd he is calling since he knowsIi'm on a date.” He answers it quickly, while holding up a finger to shush Azriel and me. “Wait, what's wrong? Calm down.” Wow, he is really committing to the bit. “Are you sure? Okay… I am on my way,” he ends the call and looks up. “I'm sorry to have to do this but there's an emergency and I'm going to have to end our date early.” I fight back a chortle. “Oh no! What kind of an emergency, a flat tire or dead grandma?” Azriel coughs and turns away. Lucien looking stunned mutters out, “uhhh a flat tire.” I wave over the waitress who miraculously appears from nowhere, “Can we get our check?” I turn back to Lucien, “Sorry to hear about your roommates flat tire. I hate when that happens.” Before Lucien can reply, the waitress comes back with the bill. It's for two drinks and a bread basket. I start to pull out my wallet when Azriel clears his throat. Lucien looks from me to Azriel. Azriel asks with an unamused expression, “Aren't you going to pay, since it's a date?” My jaw nearly hits the floor. Lucien sputters and fumbles for his wallet. Hastily slinging a twenty dollar bill on the table. “Well it's been… a date. I will catch you around Elain.” Lucien shuffles around the crowd making a hasty exit. I keel over in a fit of quiet laughter the second Lucien bolts for the door. You know the kind of silent laughter where your shoulders shake and you can hardly breathe? That kind. I feel a warm rough hand stroke my upper arm sending a shiver down my spine. “Hey, it's okay, don't be upset,” came the soothing timbre of Azriel's voice. I look up to see his worried expression and start laughing even harder. His hand stills on my arm and grips me lightly. “Why are you laughing?” he asks, bemused by my giggling fit. I wipe away a few wayward tears as I fight back a bout of hiccups. “ it's just… it's just…” I snort. An honest to gods snort so loud that it draws the attention of at least three neighboring tables. Azriel is smiling fully now. A toothy smile that I just know he rarely gives to anyone. It over takes his whole face making him somehow even more handsome. Seeing him this way suddenly calms my laughing fit and I clear my throat. “It's just, we were having the worst date in the history of dates and he was so desperate to get away he made up an excuse to bail. But, I have to say his acting was pretty solid.” Azriel looks at me a little stunned, “you're not upset, not mad?” I smile again, “I can’t blame him, I wanted to escape through the bathroom window but they didn't have one.” His smile lingers as he stares at me. “You making him pay for the bill was just icing on the cake.” Azriel hums before saying, “it was the least I could do.” I stand and grab my small handbag off the table. “Well, Azriel, I’m happy I got the chance to see you. It’s been too long, I'm glad to hear you’ll be sticking around for a while.” He looks down towards his shoes and back up, the faintest blush on his cheeks. “Have a good evening,” I bid him farewell and walk out onto the street.

I stop to take a deep breath, cleansing myself of the bad date energy. It was terrible but at least I went out and could tell Feyre to back off. It had been several years since I had mustered the courage to date. Not since Graysen. I’m about to take a step when I felt a hand grab the back of my elbow. “Wait, I wanted to make sure you were truly okay.” I whirl around to see Azriel staring down at me. My heart flutters once again, the way it always does in his presence. His face was elegant with high cheekbones, a fine nose and a sharp jawline. In the halo of the street lamp he looked like a fallen angel. His scarred hand was still on my arm, a rose tattoo covered the back of it. “That's very thoughtful of you, but truly I’m okay. My pride is a little wounded but I'll get over it.” He studies me for a long moment before he leans in, “You're too nice Elain.” I stiffen but can't exactly argue. “He's a fool you know? Any man would be lucky to date you.” My stomach fills with butterflies. It was my turn to blush under the weight of his sincere gaze. I swallow the lump in my throat. “You should get back to your date, Azriel. I would hate to take up any more of your time.” He looks over his shoulder and back to me, as if confused. Maybe he was remembering where he was and what he was doing. “Are you sure you're okay? Do you need me to take you home? You could join us…” his thumb tenderly rubbing up and down my arm. He was probably just being kind because I'm Feyre's sister. The thought saddens me. “I'm sure Azriel, no need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.” He looks unsure or perhaps he is just reluctant to let me go. His hand is still stroking my arm. “It was lovely to see you, maybe we can catch up another time?” A smile tugs at my lips, “I'd like that.”

Azriel

I can't believe my luck. I get back into the city and happen to bump into the girl I have been obsessing over for months. Truth be told, I have a thing for Elain Archeron. How could I not? She is gorgeous and so incredibly kind. She radiates joy and has a way of making everyone around her feel special. I am normally so good with the opposite sex. Hell I have quite the reputation as a ladies man but something about her leaves me feeling like a lovesick teenager. I wish I had a reason to make her stick around and spend the evening with me but I know I probably shouldn't.

I watch Elain walk away down the crowded street. Utterly lost in the way the wind catches her long golden hair. The way her dress skims over her gentle curves. What I wouldn't do to get the chance to touch her. I exhale slowly, burying my thoughts on her deep down, as I always do. I walk back into the restaurant and sit across from Mor. Once, many years ago I thought I loved Mor. But I mistook her kindness for love. I had never been around a girl my own age until I met her. She is so gregarious and radiates confidence. So when she doted on me, I read the signals all wrong. I built up something that was never really there. It took too long to discover that Mor preferred women. Even after, I held out hope that she would change her mind. Truth be told, it allowed me to keep other women at a distance. If I hid all of my feelings in the safety of Mor's friendship I never had to address my own issues with intimacy. But, I was done hiding behind Mor and living in denial. I started to realize I could never be happy if I didn’t face reality, no matter how scary it was for me to open up to her. It was awkward and she was hesitant to even hear me out. It was worth it though, because now she was my friend and one of my closest confidants.

“So, how was sweet Elain?” she asks. Elain didn't know Mor well, but Mor knew all about Elain. Mor being a family friend of Rhys’ was well informed on the Archeron sisters. “She seems okay, though it looks like she was having a bad date. He actually ditched her.” Mor gapes, “that piece of shit! Who was it?” I sneer, “Lucien Vanserra.” Mor rolls her eyes, “seems as though Feyre finally wore her down.” l hum in agreement. I’ll never understand why Feyre thinks Lucien and Elain would make a good pair. I suspect she wants Lucien to stick around and worries he wouldn’t without some other incentive. Feyre dated Tamlin, Lucien’s former college roommate and friend. After the nasty break up Lucien had taken Feyre’s side. But, he had grown distant and their friendship never fully recovered. So, she clings to the hope that if Elain marries Lucien he will become a permanent fixture in her life. Feyre also loves to meddle in other people's lives. She likes to think she has a gift for connecting people but in reality she is terrible at it. No, truly terrible. Her own love life until Rhys had been a shitshow so it puzzles me why Feyre thought so highly of her skills in the love department. I know Elain is too good for Lucien. I don't hate the man but he doesn’t seem like the type of man she needs. Especially after his pathetic stunt this evening.

I think back to Elain, how utterly beautiful she looked. The way her skin seemed to glow, how her face lit up when she laughed. The utterly intoxicating smell of her jasmine perfume. I hate the thought of her dating Lucian. I hate the way they look together, the way she seems to shrink around him. She is a bright shining light in a world of darkness. She deserves someone who appreciates how special she truly is.

“Hello, Earth to Azriel,” Mor says, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “I'm sorry Mor, what were you saying?” She sighs. “I should have known the second you saw her that I'd lost your focus for the evening.” My eyes snap up, face utterly unreadable. “What's that supposed to mean?” Mor pats my hand and I pull it away. I hate it when people touch my hands . “Don't play dumb with me Azriel. I know you too well.” I narrow my eyes, weighing my next words carefully. “I'm not playing dumb. I'm just concerned after Lucien ditched her.” Mor gives me an unimpressed look. “For what it's worth, I think you should ask her out. You two would make the hottest couple.” She pumps her eyebrows at me suggestively. “I'm not going to ask her out… that's absurd… Why would you even suggest that?” Mor tilts her head back and laughs, “oh you have it bad.” I give her an incredulous look, “I can't date anyone, I travel too much for work, not to mention it could be dangerous. Besides, I'm not interested in falling in love.” She gives me her no nonsense face. I want to protest but there is that old saying about protesting too much and I don't want to egg her on. “Let's just drop it and enjoy our evening,” I say, refusing to take the bait. Mor sighs, “here's the deal Azzy, I will enjoy a lovely meal, which you are paying for, by the way. But, I'm not forgetting you are pining after you know who.”

“Fine,” I bite out.

“Have you decided where you are going to stay?” She asks in a tone that feels suspiciously like prying into more than just my place of residence. I shrug, “My assignment is in Windhaven.” Mor scrunches her nose in distaste. Not that I blame her, Windhaven is a shithole. “I don't have to live there full time, but I do have to stay a few days a week.” She nods, “why not stay in Hewn Hills?” There it is, her not so innocent suggestion. It's like she knows what I have planned. She knows me too well. I eye her suspiciously. “Don't give me that look, Az. Velaris is too far from Windhaven, and Hewn Hills is adorable.” It is a nice town, I wouldn't call it adorable. Though there is something there worth adoring . “They have great hiking trails, the parks are beautiful, and the downtown is just like Stars Hollow.” I sigh, “you don't have to convince me Mor, I've already booked a bed and breakfast.” She squeals, and I feel a headache forming. I rub my temple, “don't get too excited. It's the most logical choice.” She claps excitedly, “oh i just love it there, and now I have another reason to visit. You know I love Rita's and don't get me started on Petals.” I give her a perturbed look and pray to the gods that she doesn't read into anything more than she already has. There is only one reason I’m staying in Hewn Hills, Elain . Seeing her with Lucien tonight only reinforces the notion that I need to be close to her. Is it the smart thing to do? No, but I can’t seem to keep away. I’m just glad Mor’s job will keep her distracted from joining Feyre in competing for the biggest pain in the ass award.

#elriel #azriel x elain #elain x azriel #elriel fic #elriel fanfic

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ihopeinevergetsoberr · 8 months

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the counterpart

• chapter 1 — a welcome threatening stir

rating: explicit. please don’t skip straight to (future) smut parts though, i’m currently learning chess just for this fic /hj

word count: 4,5k

pairing: viktor x fem!reader (no use of ‘y/n’)

cw: alcohol, occasional cussing, reader is a smoker (she plays chess and lives in the 90s, how do you expect her to have healthy lungs in these conditions?). a LOT of tension, viktor is a certified brat tamer. i think that’s it — please come yell at me if i missed anything. basically just a silly little chess rivals (sort of) au.

i am finally writing this multichapter and i hope it will be a fun read for you and an excellent torture for me. i have a vision but i don’t know how to make shit perfectly executed. we’ll see how this goes. an ao3 link will be added later. any feedback is highly appreciated.

part 2

⸻

You weren’t obsessed with him.

With the way his tongue would click against his teeth so astutely irritating — a gesture you grew to define as some brief foreplay before said appendage touched his palate precisely one torturous time, whispering a victorious ‘check’. With a crease dissecting his forehead — a rare occasion you managed to grasp only twice: the first time being your failed attempt to capture his queen, and the second — a recent one, at that — being a foolish way you’ve lost a freshly converted into a rook pawn: concurrently the most humiliating way to jeopardize an intellectual sparring.

You weren’t obsessed with his bizarre contemplative humming, nor with his Czech last name — needless to mention the disheveled mayhem of dark hair: Viktor was just a mere enigma you fancied to occasionally demerge — sneakily, patiently, with a positive passion to it. Habitually in a private ambiance of either his or your dorm room, though actually more commonly his — something about it simply screamed peace, as contradictory as that sounds. Sweetly quiet, relatively neat, with a never properly made bed being the only truly concerning mess in it.

That apartment was the embodiment of a grandmaster’s mind, and it certainly had all the chances of belonging to one at some point: if only he kept up with the meticulous tactics you were (secretly) so jealous of.

“Envy is a waste of time,” he unkindly reminded you one particularly languid evening, “you should pursue ways to expand your knowledge — not to contract them with such trivialities.”

That reproach got into your ambitious head. Call it a reality check or a simple first impression — since that encounter was also the first one you two had ever shared.

Though could someone really blame you? You didn’t need humbling. Well, not any more of that crude one, at the very least — a local college chess club had more than enough of it to offer. You could consume their disdain for weeks and it still wouldn’t make them run out of it — they had plenty in stock specifically for women. That much was obvious the second you appeared before those arrogant, prejudiced fools. You stepped in there innocently hoping to enroll, but stormed off with a genuine intention to commit homicide — a manslaughter, to be precise, and god weren’t you going to be merciful.

‘You can’t enroll without a rating,’ hissed that bespectacled, caricaturely tall boy — all heavily starched collar, stupid chequered tie and a handful of dirty blonde hair plastered across his forehead.

Bullshit, you thought, gathering every last ounce of your forced politeness, who needs a rating to enroll into a college fucking chess club?

‘We don’t accept amateurs,’ assented his not any less grimy interlocutor, his expression a tad bit more bearable. ‘Please, leave,’ he demanded, lancing your face with his hostile eyes.

Well, it’s a good thing you accept ill-mannered bastards, you almost muttered, fists clenching hard into a white-knuckled disaster.

And perhaps you were even willing to negotiate, to have their best players all lined up in front of you — each waiting for a turn to be relentlessly put in his place by you; and you would certainly show them — quick, efficient and dangerous. You would force them into submission — professionally so, in a way that would make them all wonder whether the next Judit Poglar has decided to bless them with her presence.

Because, sure; you were certainly many things — an excellent mind, a trickster, a fanatic, but that list never included an amateur. The mere fact someone even dared to insult you in such a way — and without even sparing you one game of chess — was, frankly, deeply humiliating.

So you decided to let your pride win. Walked out of that damned club with an ostentatious huff, heels clacking loud enough to muffle their demeaningly misogynistic brouhaha — a tacit protest, an addendum to your passive-aggressive ‘good luck, gentlemen’.

They didn’t want you — fine, whatever, you didn’t want them either. You’ll find yourself a counterpart soon — not any less intelligent, and, most importantly, respectful. They’ll come crawling back to you once you gain a rating, mourning their loss and pathetically begging for sweet mercy. You could already imagine the holes rubbed through the nice fabric of their dress pants from all the kneeling you’ll make them do.

Besides, Jayce had already promised to introduce you to someone decent. ‘He’s sweet,’ he assured you, a friendly arm wrapped around your tense shoulder. ‘Incredibly smart,’ he proceeded with his wholehearted praise, proud grin so wide the corners of his mouth were definitely hurting. ‘Somewhat awkward,’ he mused, raising one eyebrow in consideration, ‘though I’m not entirely sure it’s awkwardness, per se, Viktor is simply… pensive.’

Viktor. Your eyes squeezed shut, offering the restless imagination a brief opportunity to brainstorm. A competent, pensive and sweet chess lover: what would his temper turn out to be like? Does he have a rating yet? What if he’s already playing professionally? Perhaps he even has a title?

Jayce’s next comment didn’t offer you much help though.

‘He’s handsome too,’ he whispered, a shit-eating smirk wiped instantly off his pleased physiognomy. Elbows become offensive weapons between the ribs of unfortunate matchmakers, you see.

Either way: the deal was sealed. You were going to meet Viktor the next chance you get, and Jayce’s upcoming birthday has provided you with precisely that convenience.

It still happened rather spontaneously — you can’t mentally prepare yourself for an encounter you don’t quite know what to expect of. Sure, Jayce’s complaisant flattery was still at your service — a source not exactly reliable, yet somewhat welcomed nonetheless: though only because you lacked any other information about this Viktor persona.

But you decided not to upset a dear friend on his birthday. Acting like Jayce was bearable to be around was a part of your gift, after all.

Unfortunately, the fact he was born on an awfully steamy July day wasn’t helping you accomplish that; you squinted, drowning a glass of that disgustingly warm bourbon, a couple of melted ice cubes in it slightly diluting the once-rich taste of liquor. The man of the hour had quickly dissolved into a mess of infuriatingly noisy people after only reserving you a quick hello, shiny eyes already evidently tipsy — either from all the attention or the contentious quality of the booze this bar had to offer.

You didn’t dare to complain. The tab was on a birthday boy, and you knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Knew better, yet still stared right at Jayce’s laughing physiognomy, grin so blindingly toothy it had you regretting ever sojourning this feast of life. Not that you had anything against attending birthday celebrations; but a cramped bar, a cheap drink and not a single minute spent with a man you came here for weren’t exactly your ideal perception of said… festivity. Not to mention that Viktor was terribly late — though your darling mutual acquaintance was in no state to properly introduce you to him anyway. You slipped out of your bar stool, rubbing an erratic little pattern into the weary skin of each heavy eyelid — but the sleepiness didn’t magically dissolve under the persistent pressure of your fingers. If there existed a thing you hated more than cocky men and bad booze — then it certainly had to be feeling hot, and this awful place has kindly reminded you of precisely that long forgotten loathing; air so sticky it was melting your brain into a tired, dysfunctional mush.

Somehow you managed to find an exit before the headache became borderline unbearable, letting the evening greet you with a chilly slap on precisely that slick place where a damp blouse kept clinging onto your sweaty back. Summer sure was relentless this year — the outdoors didn’t offer you much of that crispy gentle breeze, but it was still not nearly as suffocatingly hot as inside that grimy shelter for drunks.

Shaky hands slid inside the pocket of your pants, fumbling frantically with the contents of it: glistening candy wrappers, ringing keys and a handful of coins. Took you long enough to finally feel the shape of an old lighter, the spark wheel of it so terribly rusty the callus on your thumb started stinging as soon as you laid it on that rough little bump.

With a sigh, you fetched a folded pack of Camel out of the same stuffed sack, the state of said poor thing utterly matching its owner’s — all ruffled, messy, with the bottom of it barely still intact. Well, fine, perhaps that last trait was not precisely pertinent to you, but your rear was hurting quite palpably after an hour spent sitting on that awfully uncomfortable stool — which meant that relating to your poor box of cancer sticks was inevitable.

The spark wheel gave in after a few insistent pushes, and within seconds you were taking your first greedy drag, back pressed tightly against the cool wall; providing you much needed support for taming a headache with a smoke break that would undoubtedly cause a new one in an instant. The filth filled your lungs with sweet relief, and you let the sedation run slowly through your veins, squeezing the filter in an affectionate little embrace of trembling index and middle fingers.

And then your private moment was ruined. But not abruptly in the slightest, with just one simple call of your name – the most careful of all interventions, surprisingly quizzical and polite, heavily accented at the edge of the very last syllable. Still had you choking ungracefully on your tiny nicotine snack, filling the silence with awfully inelegant coughing.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you,” spoke your pensive intruder, causing you to sharply turn around, back clinging off the wall in one unsubtle movement.

That’s how all meaningful formal meetings happen. Unfailingly when you least expect them, or, even worse — when you stop expecting them at all, with every thought banished from your utterly relaxed mind. They sneak up on you under shitty bars, giving you a slight vertigo and then offering a polite smile to make amends, gripping the handles of their canes with pent up awkwardness. And god were they peculiar intrusions — matching your silly, much too improper manner to wear corporate clothes for a night out, with just a few buttons of their tight vest undone; limbs lanky, but not inept, eyes brimming with pretty copper right onto your astonished frame. Made you randomly embarrassed about your chipped nail polish and messy hair with just a mere presence of their flawlessness: you knew you were facing a tease before you even managed to acknowledge his appearance, brow raising curiously in a cautious attempt of a greeting.

“Well, you did startle me,” was the first thing to leave your mouth after the coughing assault had ended, lips stretching lazily into an involuntary grin. “How do you know my name?”

His eyes — oh those big shiny tormentors — widened in surprise, and one sinewy hand crawled somewhat haphazardly up his chest, fingers catching the knot of a red tie to pull on it firmly. To either adjust it or to make the clearing of a tender throat easier — you couldn’t quite place it, yet still watched him in silent astonishment, tasting the bitterish taste of tobacco on the tip of your tongue.

“Well,” he parroted your tone with sharp accuracy and proceeded with distinguished sass, “I believe a certain someone has introduced us to each other… in absentia, so to speak.”

Oh. So that was your new charming counterpart? Bravo, Jayce — there was actually something truthful about your flattering for the first time.

“For I am Viktor, in case you’re still confused,” he obligingly reminded, abandoning the brief fidgeting with his tie to offer you a handshake.

You gulped, almost extending a dominant arm to accept it, but some weird foreboding had once convinced you that to twine your still smelling of cigarettes fingers with a stranger would be somehow perceived as crude — and so you clumsily caught his palm with your other, less nimble limb. Let the heat of his touch engrave into your hand, eyes swirling the tiny mole above that defined cupid’s bow, making you feel stupid for stealing that innocent of a peek. Had you forgetting about the still stuffed into your mouth cigarette as it fell open in oblivious awe, almost dropping a decent bridge of ashes onto his pretty shoes.

Regaining the lost composure, you managed to introduce yourself in a manner similar to his — not that it was necessary since he seemed to remember what to call you exactly, but the gesture still felt right — you’d vowed to treat people with politeness and liked to think that it was going quite well for you.

“So,” he uttered somewhat approbatory, withdrawing his hand from your tender clasp, “normally I don’t… tutor. But Jayce was rather insistent I try — and he’d also assured me that you’re quite passionate about the subject.”

You huffed, letting out an undefinable sound of confusion. Not without a mixture of evident irritation to it, if you were to be frank — but that was entirely justified. A tutor? Is that how Jayce really took it?

“I’m not looking for a tutor,” you sassed matter-of-factly, angrily inhaling from your cigarette. “I’m looking for a counterpart. What makes you think that you’re competent enough to teach me anything at all?” you inquired with candid hostility, watching him go limp in silent panic.

You’d vowed to treat people with politeness and didn’t care if it wasn’t going well for you anymore. Quite a drastic change of plans, to be frank.

“Oh, I am not claiming that,” Viktor rushed to object, and the way a few strands of hair started shaking treacherously as he wagged his head had almost caused you to crack a pretentious smirk. But he quickly soothed the unkempt curl and proceeded with his explanation, “I was simply told you might need some help. Why the unnecessary attitude?”

“Because you were told wrong,” you practically spat the smoke into his face, lips smacking together with an audible pop. It made his textured nose wrinkle with a fed up sigh, entertaining you with an ungainly attempt of waving that livid cloud away.

“And that’s my fault… how, exactly?” he mumbled with an utterly puzzled glare, and you scoffed in silent rejoicement, leaning slightly closer to divert yourself with more of his emotiveness.

“You should have paid more attention to what Jayce told you,” you jumped over his rhetorical question paying it no mind whatsoever. Though, as you were reminiscing on the events of this exact conversation — your own audacity made you wonder how Viktor managed to refrain from slapping you across the face that very instant. The shitty booze must have turned out not so shitty after all — it sure gave you the nerve, and you were holding onto it a tad bit too tightly.

But your new companion didn’t take that well. His thick eyebrow protruded into a furious arc, lids twitching slightly at the outburst you were so pathetically proud about. Both hands returned to the handle of his cane, as if getting ready to transform it into a weapon — and he leaned his whole body weight on it with a displeased gasp, accented voice obtaining a lower, more threatening edge to it.

He’s sweet, you scoffed, ready to press your forehead against his like an uncivilized animal. It’s not like you were acting much better than that anyway.

Well, at least Jayce didn’t lie about the handsome part.

“I’ll have you know that I was, indeed, paying attention,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “and if you wish to quibble over the words that do not even belong to me — then fine: be my absolute guest, but do not except me to align with your enthusiasm and partake in useless insults.”

He cleared his throat again, evidently reluctant to indulge in whatever spectacle you were so clearly asking for. That man didn’t deserve your resentment, but now you certainly deserved his, and so you backed off, fingers twitching haphazardly as they curdled around your cigarette for one last awkward drag, lashes fluttering with palpable nervousness.

“I was told you needed a tutor — and I sincerely apologize if your request was miscomprehended,” Viktor sighed, and you blinked at him in baffled reverence. Wishing oh so desperately to burn your always looking for trouble tongue with that still somewhat smoldering tobacco stick.

“No, I…” you gasped in response, but Viktor held a soothing hand up, stopping you from puking out more of that guilty incoherent nonsense.

“Please, allow me to finish,” he demanded, and you obeyed — a mere culpable inch away from accidentally swallowing the filter still filling your mouth with a sharp savour of smoke.

And your submission was appreciated right away.

“So, as I was saying,” Viktor returned to his lecture with a distinguished cough, “I’m sorry if your request was miscomprehended. But it certainly wasn’t miscomprehended by me, which makes your reaction somewhat… unfair, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” you yielded, nodding in weak agreement. “Yes, totally unfair.”

“To say the least,” he was quick to add, emphasizing the last word especially heavy.

“To say the least,” you parroted in response — just like a tamed misbehaving brat. And that’s precisely what you were — humbled, put in your place and sorry. You were sorry, and it made you quiver as you timidly chewed on the inside of an already half-eaten cheek, frantically counting the numerous scratches on your shoes. Doing anything to escape the gentle orbs undressing you off your very flesh in an attempt to find something even you doubted was still there: some prudence.

“So, with that being said,” Viktor summarized, and you heard a resonant click of his cane against the concrete, “I suggest you take out your anger on someone who’s responsible for the incorrect wording.”

You dared to abandon your defeated position, head tilting slightly upwards to witness his departure — just as languid as this completely disastrous evening; no offense to Jayce and his special day, of course.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” he smiled, politely nodding at the establishment before you two, “I still ought to wish that someone a happy birthday.”

So that’s how you lose both a battle and a war. He’d just taught you a valuable lesson — and here you were, so appalled to the idea of being tutored. Oh how the tables have turned.

You reached out a hand for him, preliminarily putting out that damned cigarette to the sole of your messy shoe in a chaotic rush. Grazed his shoulder with a fleeting touch — so cowardly unsure if you were even allowed to pamper such luxury in these conditions. But he showed you some mercy — allowed it to linger there, slightly dipped into the curvature of his clavicle, awaiting your next move with a didactic frown.

A look of a man who’d put you in a checkmate before even pulling out a chess board.

“Viktor, I’m sorry,” you muttered with the most sincere remorseful look your face could even master, “I’m terribly sorry, actually. I shouldn’t have—“ but he interrupted you, eyes drifting playfully to the hand still invading his precious privacy.

“Oh, shit,” you cussed under your breath, hastily pulling it back as if it was leprotic, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

“Please, continue,” he insisted softly. Gave you a few seconds to finish crumbling into stupid tipsy pieces and stepped back, all of his attention centered precisely on your earnest apology.

Oh, nevermind, someone please scratch the ‘showed you some mercy’ part.

“I was rude,” you confessed (as if it wasn’t obvious enough already). “Unacceptably so. I’m not exactly… good with social cues — but it’s no excuse, I should never have said that. Especially within the first five minutes of meeting you,” the words were flowing out of your mouth so naturally — surprisingly smooth for someone who’d normally take three to five business days to come up with a proper atonement (or even consider the necessity of one whatsoever).

“Do you think I could somehow… make it up to you?” you hit him with your most pitiable arrow, the one you were saving up for special occasions when you really did mean to somehow atone for all the damage, eyes two pretty things seeking his forgiveness with a sporadic, perplexed blink. But they saw none — he’d frowned, hummed in consideration, and then tormented you with silence for just a few more everlasting seconds, making you sink your lips softly into the edge of your nail and scrape some polish off of it. Squinting instantly at the awful, chemical taste — and Viktor finally gave up.

You’d realized it was your first time hearing him laugh much later. It was, indeed, a thing to remember — all raspy, strangely domestic, not malicious or willing to destroy you any further. And yes — technically, he was laughing at you, but if that’s what you’d get every time this man filled the air with that soft laughter — then you may as well become a circus employee just to figure out how to make him emit more of it.

“All is forgiven,” he assured you, shaking his head, “the second you made that face, actually. But no more of that, please. If that’s how you plead — then I’m afraid I might someday forgive you something utterly unacceptable.”

He’s sweet, you sighed, an unsure smile returning plastered across your face once again.

Perhaps you should start listening to Jayce more often.

“But back to your request,” Viktor was quick not to let you turn into a puddle on that still scorched by the sun ground, “a counterpart — is that what you need? Why not join a chess club, then?”

His question didn’t mean any harm, and he obviously just asked it out of sheer curiosity — yet it still made you feel a tad bit demeaned. Not by him, of course, just by the fact those arrogant fucks still dared to coexist without you.

Perhaps they would be willing to reconsider if they saw your behavior tonight?

You sighed, shrugging off his query. “I tried to. They didn’t let me because I don’t have a rating.”

“Really? Well that’s just strange — since when does one need a rating for it?” his confusion was genuine, eyes widened drastically as if he’d just heard the biggest absurdity of his entire life.

“That’s what I said,” you whined in a tone of a natural gossip-girl, almost ready to chain-smoke the entire rest of your pack now that you were reminded of your misery.

“I see,” Viktor hummed, stroking a thumb over the line of his sharp chin in deep scrutiny, “hm, I’m certain I’ve never heard them demand a rating for enrollment before. A club is not a tournament, after all.”

“Wait, are you a member of our chess club?” the realization quickly absorbed you, but Viktor didn’t quite catch on to your astonishment.

“Yes,” he dryly confirmed, “yes, I am. Not that I spend much time there though — those gentlemen are simply… how do I put it politely? Mediocre. Incompetent. I don’t like careless opponents — what’s the point in playing them if you can picture how exactly you can win within seconds?”

Within seconds. You froze in apparent disbelief, trying to figure out whether he’s bluffing or actually being serious, awaiting tensely on something — anything — that might indicate a joke. But not a single muscle on his pale face twitched into a smile — he’d responded with a look as awfully inquisitive as yours, unsure of what exactly you expect him to do.

So he does mean it. In that case, he’s either very full of himself — or these boys are, in fact, that hopeless in chess. And something kept telling you that it most likely was the ladder.

“I’m jealous then, I suppose,” you offered him a safe answer, toying thoughtlessly with your poor, rusty lighter.

“Please don’t be,” he protested with a careful plea. “Envy is a waste of time. You should pursue ways to expand your knowledge — not to contract them with such trivialities.”

Bold of him to assume you might envy his skills. Well, yes — you were definitely beaming with envy, but he didn’t need to know that just yet.

You snorted, almost letting that toxic conceit take over whatever pieces of common sense Viktor had just punched back into you — and his words dwelled, slinking through your skull, filling you not with thirst for vengeance, but with inspiration. It gave you some time to form a decent comeback, so you used it wisely: by delivering precisely that kind of answer, eyes rolling playfully at his discreet lecture.

“I don’t envy your tactics,” you informed him, gracefully holding your head up, “I envy the fact you have someone to show them to.”

And that boy smiled again, forcing your light vertigo to return — but not out of tipsiness or so-called ‘arrogance poisoning’.

“So do you,” he whispered, and watched you derail with the most victorious countenance known to a man. Reminding you nonchalantly that he doesn’t need a single chess piece to have you in a stalemate.

That muggy bar might’ve offered you an experience of being trapped in a figurative, impossibly narrow coffin, but Viktor’s presence was the thing that truly made you feel like an actual cadaver — all empty thoughts, and stiffness, and skipped heartbeats.

But Jayce forgot to mention that your new competitor was also deeply laconic.

“Meet me in the library next… Friday, if you’re available?” he wasn’t generous enough to award you with any more seconds to recover from this exchange, impatiently expecting a confirmation. You could only manage a non-verbal one, nodding weakly at his offer.

“Say… somewhere around noon?” he mused, and you instantly nodded again, waiting obligingly for his next suggestion. What a pleasure it is to do business with you!

“Perfect,” he snatched the words out of your mouth, already half-turned to the bar entrance, “please bring a board, and I shall bring the clocks… Yes, the library should suffice — it’s not like a game of chess requires much conversation either way. Now, please do excuse me — I really need to steal Jayce away for a minute.”

You watched him vanish into that devilish, so utterly unfitting for a man of his kind place; eyes nailed into his back as the crowd of feasting people swallowed your new interlocutor. Letting an excited little breath slip past your open mouth, escorting him with an uncoordinated wave of a shaky hand — a rather silly, excessive gesture since he wasn’t able to see it, and yet it still felt right — like a perfect little farewell to strengthen this newfound friendship with.

That’s how you met your counterpart — or, perhaps, that’s what you used to see in him once.

What you were still oblivious about — is that this man will conquer you in much more capacities than just the game that brought you two together.

⸻

tags (please let me know if you’d like to be added to them) : @zaunitearchives @blissfulip

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x f!reader #arcane fanfic #viktor smut #*throws this thing at you and vanishes*#the cunterpart

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lalachat · 11 months

Text

"And there you were..."

Author's note: WITERLLY WHAT THE HECK GUYS!!! You have made my heart so full! Almost 100 notes in under 24 hours😭❤️ yall gon make me cry! I am truly and utterly grateful that y'all are liking it so far! I'm a little insecure with my writing, but it's only because i'm so new. I am open to any kind of advice you can give me or constructive criticism that will help make this fic better for you readers. With practice comes improvement!! Also, look i'm evolving with my tumbler knowledge and added dividers, a tag list, and a masterlist that i hope works! Look at me go😭🤧 ANYWHOOOO... are y'all ready for this one?? I fully planned on posting this next week but i'm too freaking excited! Eheheheh writing this had me giggling and kicking my feet! Enjoy my loves<3

Summary: You and Lucien decided to leave Rita's after discovering your mates kissing each other. With no reason to stay, Lucien offers you the comfort of his home and a glass of your favorite wine to help decompress the stress of both your mates. How could you say no?

This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️

Warnings: usage of profanity, sexual tension growing between Lucien and y/n, some fluff bc why not, sharing a bed, potential grammar and spelling issues

Word Count: around 3,350

Chapter 2: "Scream my name..."

As you and Lucien walked out of Rita’s, neither of you had noticed two pairs of eyes lingering watching you both leave after they heard Rhys’ commotion questioning Mor into oblivion about what the hell was going on. Mor had almost smirked at the fact that all it took was for you and Lucien to leave together to make Az and Elain both glance at y’alls receding figures. If it weren't for Rhysand in her face, she well would have. Even as Rhys is trying to get her to talk, she could not wait to tell you the plan had worked! Even if it was just a glance, it was still something! Small progress is still progress, right? Oh, she wishes she could have Feyre paint their reactions to you two leaving because it was priceless. Maybe Mor would and give it to you for solstice? But for now, she has a very upset cousin to deal with.

You and Lucien stopped at a local market to grab snacks and your favorite wine for your impromptu evening at his apartment. As you walk out of the market towards his place, Lucien can’t help but to ask about Azriel.

“So... The shadowsinger is your mate huh?” Lucien asks while tucking his hands in his front pockets glancing to your face as he asked you his question.

“Yeah... When I first met Az, it was when Rhys had offered me a room to stay in for a night. Rhys and I had quite literally run into each other a moment prior. I was traveling through the night court and was so distracted by the beauty that I ended up running right into Rhysand. I had knocked his freshly bought paint that he was planning to give Feyre all over us. I felt so bad that I kept offering to pay him for the cost of the paint along with his clothes, but he kindly refused. I had no mental shields back then, so he easily saw I was a nomadic traveler that had no place to stay or wash up. He offered me a room in his home for a night and a training over mental shields as payment, and I kindly accepted. I hadn't had a nice place to stay in such a long time. But, little did I know it would not be my peace and that my mate lived in the home I was about to stay at.” you said as you walked in tandem with Lucien down the streets towards his apartment.

“Always so generous that high lord. And, I assume you know who my mate is then?”

“That he is. And yes, I do. If you don’t mind me asking, why doesn’t she want the bond?”

“The same reason your mate doesn’t see yours... She’s too busy being enamored by him to try and pursue or explore things with me.” He finds a rock on the pavement to kick along as you two walk. Lucien kicks it towards you.

“At least she knows you’re her mate.” you shrug, kick the rock back, and Lucien chuckles.

“You have a point, and Azriel would know if you would just tell him.”

“Yeah, but would it change anything between us? Probably not. It would most likely end up like you and Elain if I told him...” Lucien stops and goes silent for a moment. “No offense of course!”

“None taken. How did we even end up in this mess? You and I both having mates who do not reciprocate any kind of feelings toward us because they like each other is almost ironic.” He laughs at this situation you are both in.

“You know now that you're saying it out loud, it is quite ridiculous.” You giggle. For a moment you had completely forgotten about Azriel and Elain. Lucien once again, being so alluring that you forgotten what you had just seen at Rita’s.

Lucien glances at you and finally takes in your appearance. Your cheeks start to turn rosy at the sight of his eyes trailing over your body. Your dress still leaving little imagination for Lucien. Your body grows hot from the sudden attention.

“He’s absolutely dumb as rocks for not looking at you tonight, because you look ravishing.” and gives you a playful wink.

“Lucien you're just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Y/n I kid you not, I truly mean it. You are one of the most beautiful females I have ever seen!”

“Thank you Lucien, that means so much more to me than you will ever know,” as you look into his eyes and smile at him. He stares at you, smiles and dips his head to say you're welcome before continuing.

“Almost there, it is right around this corner.”

“Perfect, because I am freezing and in dire of more alcohol. I am too sober for all this emotional shit,” you say as Lucien laughs at your comment and you both turn the corner.

“And we're here! Home sweet home!”

You walk into his apartment and your senses are engulfed by the smell of cinnamon sticks, crisp apples, cedarwood, and roasted chestnuts. It felt like home. Everything in his apartment felt so warm and welcoming. You sat down the groceries you had gotten on the center table near the living room couch, and slowly took in his décor. You were surprised everything looked so coordinated. His apartment was filled with warm colors like reds, oranges, and yellows. It reminded you of your brief stay in the autumn court. You wondered if that’s why Lucien decorated it this way. Maybe he had found a sense of belonging in those colors. While you were taking in his apartment, you hadn’t noticed him grabbing you a change of clothes to wear along with a warm woolly blanket.

“Here, these are for you to change into, and this is for you when you get cold later because I know you,” Lucien handed you the clothes and sat the blanket down on the couch. “The bathroom is through the hall on your left! Let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay, thank you!”

You started walking to the bathroom, the floor creaking beneath your feet as you opened the door. You stepped inside and quietly shut the door. You could hear Lucien in the kitchen popping the bottle of wine and pouring you both glasses, but what you forgot to realize is how you were going to take this dress off. After Mor’s last minute dress change, you had to call Nuala and Cerridwen to help you into it. You had not thought about how you were going to get it off. You slightly began to panic. “It’s okay... you can do this. It’s just a dress, can't be that hard right?” You tried to maneuver your arms into reaching the back of your dress but to no avail, Mor had to pick the most complicated thing you have ever seen. She was right though, this dress did look hot as fuck on you. You struggled a few times more before huffing and giving up. So, you had to do what you had to do...

“LUCIEN, I NEED HELP!” You could practically hear him sprinting down the hall to get to you in the bathroom. Without thinking he pushes the door wide open.

“WHAT IS IT? Are you alright?” His face scans you for any kind of injuries but finds none. The only thing he finds is you still in that damn dress that drove him crazy. “Why are you not in the clothes I gave you?”

“First of all, I could have been indecent. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock! Secondly, you see, as a male you would not understand this predicament, but I cannot get my dress off by myself. I need help unfortunately... I swear this is all Mor’s fault!”

Cauldron boil him... “So, you mean to tell me, you screamed my name to help you with your dress because you cannot do it yourself?”

“Yes...” you can hear Lucien sigh.

“There are much better ways to scream my name y/n and you know that but for the sake that you are quite literally stuck in that dress, I’ll help you. Turn around.” Your face turns hot at his comment, and you swat at his arm.

“LUCIEN! This is not funny!” he can't help but chuckle at your flustered state.

“Okay, okay, you being stuck in a dress is not funny. Got it! Now stop being stubborn and turn around so I can help.”

“No, wait! You have to close your eyes!”

“Y/n, how am I supposed to help you with your dress if I cannot see? Besides you act like I haven't seen you naked.” Again, your face betrays you as your cheeks turn bright red at the thought. You huff.

“Fine, okay you can keep your eyes open but no funny business Mr. Vanserra. I am watching you!” Lucien chuckles at how flustered he had made you and he is living for it.

You slowly turn your back to him and lock eyes with him through the bathroom mirror. Lucien takes the back of his knuckles and traces them delicately down the skin of your spine, almost like if you were made of glass and that you'd break at the slightest touch. His hand radiates so much warmth you must stop yourself from letting out a couple of sighs. The entire time he does this his eyes do not leave from yours through the mirror. His hand finally reaches the back of your dress, and he looks away to start undoing the claps. Thank the mother because his stare was driving you crazy. Each clasp he undoes, he makes sure to take his sweet time on. He doesn't miss the way your skin crawls with goosebumps at the slightest touch of his hands against your back. Gods, you had missed his fiery touch. It had felt like forever since he last touched you.

You slowly felt the dress getting heavier with each clasp undone. You could tell Lucien was near the end when your dress had almost slipped off your chest threatening to expose your naked breasts to him. Luckily, Lucien was too preoccupied to have noticed you trying to regather it back up for coverage. You couldn’t help but to selfishly think about turning around to look at him as your dress falls to the floor. Heat slowly began to warm your lower abdomen. You had to clench your thighs together in hope of Lucien not catching your growing scent of arousal. What would Lucien do to you if you did that? Would he pin you against the sink and truly make you scream his name? Gods you wished. Just then you caught a whiff of your scent. Damn your mind and body for betraying you! You were so worried about Lucien this whole time, when you should've been worrying about yourself. However, you decide that this is probably not the time to be thinking about such lewd things after what happened with Az.

As he was on the last clasp, Lucien couldn’t help catching your lingering scent in the air. You were going to be the death of him. He kisses the newly exposed skin of your back as his scent starts to slightly change and mix in with yours. Your head fell back as your eyes closed in anticipation. His eyes had wandered back to the mirror to see your eyes shut reeling in his touch as he peppered kisses up and down your spine. He marveled at this moment for a brief second before unclasping the last clasp of your dress. Your eyes met his as the last clasp was undone, and you let your dress pool to the floor as a test of restraint. For you or him, you didn’t know which. He held you gaze for a moment, never looking away from your eyes, before ghosting his lips on the nape of your neck.

“All done...” he whispered as he slowly turned around, shut the door, and walked away back to the kitchen. Cruel wicked male.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and tried to recompose yourself. Gods would drinking more wine be safe anymore after what just happened? You sighed and you picked your dress up off the floor and folded it as nicely as you could. You grabbed the clothes Lucien had given you to change into and started putting them on. Immediately you are swallowed by the musk of Lucien's clothes. It is almost overwhelming if it weren’t for the fact that you loved the smell of the autumn court male.

You laughed at yourself in the mirror as you looked and saw his t hanging so loose on you, it was practically a dress. But let's be honest, you loved it. You slowly opened the bathroom door and made your way out with your former dress folded nicely in your hands. You sat your dress down on the table and turned towards Lucien with a smile.

“So... how do I look?” and give him a twirl. Lucien looks at you and smiles. Gods, you looked even better in his clothes than in that dress but he wasn’t about to give in that easily.

“Like a little boy.” Lucien said with a playful gleam in his eyes.

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW!” as you shake a finger at his face. He laughs.

“Fine... You look like a very cute little boy!” he says grinning from ear to ear loving the effects his teasing was having on you tonight. You instead stick out your tongue and give him that all too well known finger gesture. He is practically hurled over in laughter, but you just huff and plop yourself on his couch.

“Be useful and get this “cute little boy” more wine! I'm definitely too sober now.” He laughs again and it warms your chest. You cant help but to grin back.

“Are you sure you can drink wine? You look a little young to be drinking such adult drinks” as he grabs the wine glasses along with the bottle for refills later.

“LUCIEN, I WILL STRANGLE YOU IF I HEAR ONE MORE LITTLE BOY JOKE!”

“Okay, okay. Here’s your wine doll.” He hands you your glass with a smile, “You actually look even more beautiful now that you’re in my clothes.” As he sends you a wink before sipping some of his wine.

“Thank you...” you smile as you take a sip from your own glass.

“So, other than your mate being an enigma to you, what else has happened since I saw you last?” you both get comfy on the couch and sip on your wine.

You had failed to realize how long you and Lucien were apart. You told him about your travels through all the different courts, and he told you about his part in the war along with how he became a part of the night court. You both sat there and exchanged every story you could possibly think of, trying to catch up on every moment you missed together. Soon the stories turn into giggling. Neither of you could hold it together as one of you would say something slurred and the other could cry out in laughter. It was the wine-speaking now, but neither of you had minded. You both had forgotten what it was like to be in each other's presence. It was nice to rekindle old flames with your friend, but you had to be careful. Recatching old feelings would not be good for you with this whole Azriel situation. You looked out the corner of your eye to see Lucien trying to fight off a yawn.

“Oh, don't tell me my lil fox boy has grown tired of me?” as you slightly pinch his cheeks. He grins as he sees you also fighting off your own tiredness.

“Mmmm seems like my yawns are contagious then, because I could’ve sworn I saw you do one just now.” he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Okay, maybe I did. All this catching up and wine drinking has made me sleepy.” You decide to grab the blanket Lucien sat on the couch for you earlier this evening.

“I don’t blame you... Now if you excuse me, I am going to go change into something more comfortable, these clothes are killing me, and then we will call it a night.” he says as he sticks a finger in his collared shirt to loosen the neck and walks off still in the clothes he wore at Rita’s. You chuckle at his figure walking down the hallway to what you would assume to be his room. You don’t know how long he was in there, but you couldn’t wait any longer. Your eyes were too heavy, and you were too drunk to stop your movements down the hallway towards where Lucien disappeared. You find the door he dipped into and see it is cracked a smidge. You decide to knock, unlike Lucien earlier.

“Hey Lu? Can I come in?” No answer. “Lucien I’m really tired and I don’t know where you want me to sleep...” you slowly push the door open but put too much weight on it and tumble forward into his room. Unlike your knocking, Lucien heard you tumble and was at your side to catch you in a heartbeat. You let out a laugh. “Oh, I'm too drunk for this shit... I'm sorry, I only came here too-” you look up to see him in gray sweat pants, hair loose, and no shirt. Mother blessed this man too much! Oh fuck. Get me out of here.

“Y/n, you were saying something?” He looks down at you with mischief in his eyes knowing you couldn’t keep yours off his bare chest and gray sweatpants. Your eyes blink rapidly, and you shake your head trying to get that image out your mind but its seared its way in.

“Oh yes. I was just- um, why did I- OH! Where do you want me to sleep? I’m like minutes away from passing out on the damn floor!” Lucien laughs.

“You can sleep in here, and I can stay on the couch for tonight. Is that alright?”

“This is your bed and home Lucien. I can't let you sleep on the couch as I take your bed... it just feels wrong. I'll take the couch and you can keep your bed for tonight.” you say as you turn around to head back into the living room before you feel Lucien's hand around your waist stopping you.

“Y/n I swear to the mother, do not be stubborn and take the damn bed please. It’s too late for this, I promise you it’s okay! I insist.”

“I guess old habits never die. Always trying to get me in your bed Lu.” you smirk as you crawl in and wrap up in his silk auburn sheets. You thought his house and clothes smelled nice, but his sheets, his sheets were heavenly. You almost fell asleep then and there because it was so calming. Lucien walks over to you and kisses you on the forehead.

“Goodnight doll, I am truly sorry for your mates behavior tonight. Sleep well...” He turns around, turns out the lights, and is about to walk out the door but hesitates as he hears you say--

“Lucien wait-”

“Yes?”

“We’re both adults here, right?”

“Well one of us looks like a little boy, but yes. Why?” Lucien replied. You rolled your eyes at his playful remark from earlier.

“Adults can share a bed, and nothing has to happen.”

“Y/n are you saying you want me to sleep next to you?”

“Yes, I am. I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.” you sigh.

“Always so persuasive... scoot over.” You open the sheets and scoot over in the bed to make room for Lucien. You feel the bed dip down as he crawls in. You both lay there for a moment reeling in that you two are sharing a bed again. The only difference is now the lingering heartbreak you both feel from your mates. You turn around to face Lucien and ask-

“Can I lay on your chest?” He doesn’t verbally respond but wraps his hands around your waist and softly pulls you closer to him. You lay your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat, and look up at his face. You tuck a couple of stray hairs that had fallen in his face and tuck them behind his ears and say, “Thank you for tonight, Lucien. Elain is so lucky to have you, she just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Thank you doll, neither does Azriel. Now let's get some much needed rest. Goodnight,” said Lucien.

“Goodnight Lu,” as you rest your hand on his bare chest next to your head and you feel Lucien's arms tighten around you. You can't help but to feel so at peace in his presence, and neither can he, as you both fell asleep holding each other all night.

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Tags:

@thelov3lybookworm @justdreamstars @character---obsessed @stained-glass-eyes0708 @acourtofbooksandshadows

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fivestar-outlaw · 1 year

Text

New Horizons (Park Seonghwa) (Ch. 3)

Chapter 3: Scorpions

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Words: 3.5K+

Warning(s): insecurities and discussion of insecurities, angst, someone's rude to MC :( (None of the guys), slight hurt/comfort, dumbdumbs in love but dont realize each others feelings

A/N: Here is chapter 3. I think this one is the second hardest to write (The fourth chapter is kicking my ass rn). I'm not sure how I am feeling about this chapter? I had like three/four different ideas for it. Sooo I did a 'spin the wheel' and went with what it landed on for this lol. I feel like this is the weakest chapter but it has some charm. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy <3

Reader is implied to be living in the US bc uh TIMEZONES ARE FUCKY and i didnt realize how reliant i was on mine (PST) when looking up KST

Summary: Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.

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"I can't tell her, Woo." Seonghwa sighed.

Wooyoung nearly ripped out his hair at the very similar phrase he has heard you tell him before. The others all groaned as they lounged around in the recording room, 10 minutes before they needed to start recording and re-recording lines for their last song on the next album.

It was now February, two months since Seonghwa figured out his feelings towards you that night you fell asleep on video call. He immediately told Wooyoung the next day he had been right and ever since then, the younger has been trying to push Hwa into confessing. He even tried assuring the older male that you most likely returned his feelings without giving away you told Wooyoung you developed a crush on Hwa just a few days before Hwa told him.

Woo's mind thought back to his conversation with you a week ago.

"I don't think he likes me like that, Woo. No matter how much you tell me." He heard you say with a dejected tone through the call. He had snuck away on his own during practice, having the choreography down before the others. "I mean, I met him as a fan. I don't want him to think I offered him to sell turnips for this outcome."

"I don't think he assumes any ulterior motives, (Y/N)." He said softly. "He speaks fondly of you."

"And that's another thing. He is Seonghwa. He is the super kind, very lovable, handsome, and talented guy who loves to mimic his villagers, build Legos, and is an all around great person. It's hard not to fall in love with him... and then there is me. The average looking, college student working at the local bookstore. I feel so inadequate-"

"Hey. Don't speak like that about yourself." He scolded, his tone and facial expression serious. "You are amazing. You are beautiful. You've been a great friend and we all deeply appreciate and love you."

"Sorry." You sigh. "I just... I want to believe you, but it's hard, you know?"

"I get it, I do. Just... keep thinking on it, okay?" Wooyoung smiled sadly. He could see the self-doubt was still eating at you and his words didn't fully penetrate the self-conscious wall you built up. He just hoped you'd keep holding out long enough for him to try and push Seonghwa into confessing.

"Okay, why not then?" Yuhno asked, exasperated.

"It's clear she only views me as a friend. And I am fine with that."

"You don't know that for sure, hyung." San offered a kind smile.

"Are you guys sure (Y/N) likes me like that?" Hwa gave them each a pointed look. Everyone tried arguing that it was clear to them you did, though the only one who knew for sure was Wooyoung. "I... I truly come to appreciate her and every time we speak I feel like I am falling further and further for her. She is sweet, funny, gorgeous, and I feel my heart is always about to burst when talking with her..."

"He's a love sick puppy." Yeosang teased, making everyone chuckle. The eldest's face adorned a bright blush but he made no attempt argue against the notion.

"It's adorable seeing you crush so hard on someone, hyung." Mingi cooed.

"Why not try and talk to her now? It should be..." Hongjoong looked at the time, seeing that it was nearly 10am for them. "... about 6pm for her. Try gauging her feelings for you and bring up wanting her to visit next month for her spring break."

"I don't know..." The eldest unlocked his phone and had your contact pulled up. Wooyoung immediately moved spots and sat next to Seonghwa.

"Seonghwa-hyung, just go for it. We are all here cheering you on." Jongho smiled softly and the others nodded in agreement.

"And its not like your confessing now either. We've told you the signs, now watch for them." Wooyoung added. The others decided to join in on the call, hoping to catch anything that gave away you had feelings for their friend.

Seonghwa took in a deep breath before slowly exhaling as he pressed the call button. He felt two large hands on both shoulders pat him and give a firm squeeze as he slowly extended his arm to make sure everyone could be visible to some extent. He felt anxiety building up with each ring, waiting anxiously for you to pick up.

They all smile when you finally pick up. You were sitting at your desk, adding what looked like the finishing touches of your makeup on your face. You looked at the camera with a small smile before you looked down, picking up a tube of lipstick.

"Hello boys. Usually you text me before you start a call. What's going on?" You ask, eyes flickering to the phone again before you focus on your hand mirror.

Seonghwa felt Wooyoung nudge him off camera. "I wanted to check in on you, (Y/N), and they all decided to join me."

"Aw, really?" Your face seemingly brightened at the fact and the eldest could feel Jongho on his left excitedly tap his leg.

"Compliment her, Hwa." Hongjoong hissed into his ear, a toothy grin was on his face as an attempt to mask any suspicion.

"Did one of you say something?"

"O-oh it must of cut out." Seonghwa nervously chuckled. "I said you look amazing. Is there a special occasion going on?"

You got a bit bashful and smiled, though everyone could tell it didn't fully reach your eyes. "I got asked out on a date."

Seonghwa felt like he was punched in the gut.

But his face remained soft with a smile.

"Really? Who is the person?" He asked, his voice steady.

The others eyed him in concern but did their best to mask it while on video.

"His name is Charlie. He is in my English course this semester. We worked on some in-class assignments together a few times before he asked me out today."

"I'm happy to hear. Well, we better get going. We are about get to recording." Hongjoong could pick up some shakiness in Hwa's voice. "Have fun and please periodically message me, just to give me peace of kind on your safety."

"Thank you, Seonghwa, and I will." You gave them a wave goodbye before hanging up the phone.

It was silent in the room. Seonghwa slowly lowered his arm, resting his phone and hands in his laps. The smile he had dropped just as slowly as he took in a deep, trembling breath.

"Hwa, are you okay?" Hongjoong hesitated, placing his hand on his friends shoulder.

"Yes. I'm fine, Joong." He asserted, getting up from the couch.

"Are you sure?" San asked.

Languidly, the eldest turned to face the rest. Their breaths caught in their throats. His eyes were full of tears, his lips were quivering as he still maintained his smile.

"I told you guys I am just a friend to her. And I will be fine with that." He sniffled, one tear rolling down his cheek. He hastily wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. "Please, lets drop it and get work done today."

"Of course, hyung." Yuhno spoke with a comforting voice and stood up, wrapping an arm around the older males shoulders. "Lets grab some waters together." Carefully, the taller of the two led Hwa out of the room. The second the door closed, everyone exhaled.

"Maybe...Maybe we were wrong." Jongho mumbled.

"No we weren't." Wooyoung insisted, pulling out his phone.

"Wooyoung-" San tried to speak but the younger male kept talking.

"We weren't! (Y/N) told me herself she likes Seongwa!" The others watched as he called you, pressing speakerphone.

The phone rung a few times when they hear the line click.

"It's just me, (Y/N)." Woo gave the others a look to be quiet. "What was that? What do you mean date?"

"Exactly that, Youngie." You sighed, your voice sounding as if it lacked any confidence.

"But you like Seonghwa... You love him."

"... I do." The others in the room looked at each other in shock, their eyes wide.

"Then why did you agree to the date, (Y/N)?"

There was a moment of tense silence before you spoke again, starting your sentence off with a sniffle.

"Because I can't logically believe he likes me the same way. He just see's me as a friend and I just feel so inadequate to be on any level with him." You faltered. "I don't have any particular feelings for Charlie but I... I just wanted to try to get over loving Hwa."

"(Y/N)..."

"I need to get going Woo. I'll... message you tomorrow." Before he could say anything more you hung up.

The room was just as tense as before. No one knew what to say. Wooyoung pressed his lips tightly together as he kept his own tears at bay. When they heard the door open everyone else started getting up and getting ready to start recording. Seonghwa looked to have calmed down. Wooyoung refused to look at his oldest hyung until he could calm down.

---

After the video call with Ateez and the call with Wooyoung, you decided to try to to push any negative thought aside and finish getting ready. You put together a outfit that wasn't too fancy but still looked nice. You styled your hair the way you liked most for things like this. Overall, despite the heavy heart, you felt cute. You left your place with an Uber, figuring you may have something alcoholic to drink, with enough time to get to the restaurant on time, sending a message to Seonghwa letting him know you were heading there...

You glanced at the clock on your phone for the umpteenth time. It had been an hour since your uber dropped you off at the restaurant, 50 minutes since you were sat down at a table, and 35 minutes since that sinking feeling in your gut that you had been stood up started kicking in.

You sighed dejectedly as you finished paying for the meal you ordered. You may have been stood up but you weren't going to let that stop you from a nice meal. Luckily your waitress was kind and nobody paid you much mind. You felt that any pity sent your way would make you feel worse.

You slowly walked outside the restaurant, your phone out as you get ready to order another uber, when you heard loud cackling. Your head turned to the left and just a few cars down in the parking lot was Charlie in a car full of people. They were all laughing and looking at you.

It felt like a bucket of ice water was poured over you.

Ignoring them and the button to confirm the uber, you started walking in the direction of your apartment. You needed to get away. You could feel your chest tightening with humiliation and panic.

"Oh come on, (Y/N). It was a joke!" You heard Charlie yell but you just kept walking. You heard the car roar with life and could hear from their rolled down window various jokes directed at you.

They all cackled and decided that was enough teasing. Charlie then nearly squealed his tires as he drove away. The tears you kept at bay finally spilled over. You hiccupped as you glanced down at your phone. It was 8pm for you, which meant it would be around noon for him.

You didn't think, really. You just knew you needed to hear his low toned, comforting voice. You opened your phone and immediately dialed Seonghwa, pressing your cell to your ear as you walked back to your place. You felt pathetic but you knew you needed to speak to someone or else you would be a sobbing mess if you were left to stew.

---

It was lunch time in the canteen area at KQ when Seonghwa heard his phone ring. His brows furrowed when he saw your name on the screen. He finished his last bite and quickly wiped off any possible crumbs on his hands with a napkin.

"Didn't she leave for her date like an hour ago?" Mingi tilted his head, everyone else had a confused look.

Seonghwa pressed the green answer button and raised his phone to his ear.

"(Y/N)?" His voice with smooth and low. "You're calling me so soon-"

"Seonghwa..." He heard your voice trembling, making him freeze. His face must of gave away to the others something was wrong, as they stared at him intently.

"Hold on, (Y/N). Let me go somewhere private." He quickly got up fron his seat and wasted no time getting into the hallway where there were less people. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"I-I got stood up." You sniffled.

"What?"

"I sat there for an hour looking like a fool. And then... And then I went to leave and I saw him outside in his car with his friends." Seonghwa could feel his blood start to boil with anger. "They laughed at me. They made fun of me." He could hear you take in a shuddering breath.

"Where are you now?"

"I'm walking home..."

"How long until you get back?"

"Maybe... Maybe 10 or 15 more minutes?"

"Stay on the phone with okay? I want to make sure you get home safe." He needed to take deep breaths to stay calm. In the corner of his eye he saw the others leave the canteen, though they stayed back, giving him and you some privacy.

"I just don't get what I did wrong to-"

"You did nothing wrong, (Y/N). Don't start blaming yourself for some asshole's behavior." He glanced to his friends, feel a pinch of confidence. "You are a wonderful person. It's his loss."

There was silence for a moment.

"Did I interrupt work?" You asked in a small voice.

"No, I was just finishing lunch. Did you eat?"

"I had something small after I realized he wasn't showing up." Hwa felt some relief when he heard your voice getting steady. "I'll probably have some ice cream when I get home."

"It better not be mint chocolate chip." He joked and smiled when he heard you giggle. "You really did look amazing, by the way. You should send me and the group chat any selfies if you took any. I'm sure the others would like to see the full look."

"Really?" Your voice was meek.

"I would never lie to you... You truly look beautiful. You always do."

"Thank you, Hwa. I really needed to hear that, especially from you." He could hear your voice tremble again.

"Don't start crying because of me, jagiya." He gently teased, the petname slipping out seamlessly.

"Where are the others?"

"They are watching me down the hallway I'm in." He looked over and saw that they were still there. Wooyoung, San, and Jongho kept their eyes on him while the others were looking at their phones, occasionally looking back at the eldest.

"Am I keeping-"

"I want to be talking with you. They can all wait." Seonghwa huffed, which pulled a giggle from you. He was glad he was able to get you to cheer up, even if it was a miniscule amount. "They are very concerned for you though."

"You can tell them what happened. Woo will bug me when he can until I tell him."

"He is good at that isn't he?"

"Too good." You snort.

There was another moment of silence before Hwa spoke again.

"How close are you to home?"

"Uh..." You pause. "I'm pretty close. I'm passing the park thats nearby. I'll probably be there in two minutes."

"Good." He hummed. "I'm glad you called me."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Besides enjoying the sound of your voice, I am glad you felt comfortable enough during this vulnerable time to reach out to me. It warms my heart."

"I'm glad you answered."

"For you? Always. Well, unless I am on stage or Joong is lecturing us." He couldn't help but beam when he got you to laugh again.

"I see my apartment. I'm walking up to the door now." Hwa heard your keys jingle in your hand. "I'll let you go now. Thank you for everything, Hwa."

"It wasn't a problem at all. I'll check in on you when I have the time okay?"

"You don't have to." He faintly heard you unlocking the door and then heard the door close.

"I want to." He smiled. "Get comfortable, have that ice cream, and smile for me okay, (Y/N)? I'll talk to you soon. Have a goodnight in case you fall asleep."

"Have a good rest of your day, Hwa." There was a lingering pause before you ended the call.

Seonghwa let out a deep sigh, his face dropping into a scowl as he pocketed his phone. The rest of Ateez took that as a sign to approach him. They nearly froze when they saw the angry look on his face.

"I'm going to need one of you to stop me from buying plane tickets right now." Hwa muttered.

"What happened?"

"Why are you so upset?"

"Is (Y/N) okay?"

Were questions all asked at the same time.

"Let's get back to the recording studio first." Hongjoong offered. It took a lot of restraint for them to not run down the hallways.

The second that door closed to the studio, everyone turned to look at Seonghwa, who still looked pissed off. He sat down on the couch staring past the glass that viewed the recording booth. He needed to take a moment to calm himself down.

"Did something happen to our dear (Y/N)?" Wooyoung sat next to the older male, looking at him with desperate eyes.

"She called me crying, saying her date stood her up." Seonghwa finally spoke. Everyone let out shocked noises and some curses. "That's not even the worst of it. She said he and his friends were waiting for her to come outside to make fun of her."

Wooyoung pulled out his cellphone. "I'm buying you and I plane tickets."

"Count me in, I want to beat that guys ass for making her upset." San sat on the other side of Seonghwa.

Hongjoong quickly snatched Wooyoung's phone.

"Hey-!"

"You won't be making a spontaneous trip to her place and you all are definitely not going off to fight this guy." He said, using his captain voice.

"Come on, hyung. It'll be worth it." Jongho tried bargaining but quickly stopped at the look he got from their leader.

"Seonghwa." Seonghwa's attention was on Hongjoong's face after he called his name. "You already did most of your recording today. Unless you want to hang out with those who still need to record and need to re-record, or do some choreography practice with Yuhno, you should head back to the dorm and spend some time with (Y/N)."

"Thank you, Joong." Seonghwa smiled and gathered his belongings.

"We want to spend time with her too." Wooyoung whined.

"Too bad. You're assisting Yuhno after you re-record your lines." The eldest male smiled at his friends playful banter as he left the room.

He quickly fished out his cell and called you as he walked down the hallway. He was heading to his managers office to get home. He wasn't entirely sure if he had the confidence to confess right now, nor did he want to spring on a confession to you after the night you had... but he wanted to let you know he would be there for you. That he would never let you feel less than or alone. That stupid guy lost his chance and Hwa wanted to be the one treasure you. He was going to confess and tonight would be the start to his plan to do so.

"Seonghwa?" Your voice sounded confused when you quickly answered.

"Hongjoong is giving me the rest of the day off. Do you want to watch a movie with me? Or we can play Animal Crossing? Whatever you want, I want to do it with you." He took in a deep breath. "I'll even pick up mint chocolate chip ice cream and we can eat it together."

You laughed. "Sure, I would love that."

There was a pause in the conversation. Seonghwa was now waiting in front of the manager's office.

"I have a question for you, (Y/N)." He wanted to wait for later to ask his question but Seonghwa felt he had the confidence to ask now.

"What is it?"

"You said you took time off work for your spring break next month, right?"

"Yes, I have the Friday before that week off to Monday after it. Why do you ask?"

"Come visit me." He was shocked he got it out.

"What?"

"Come to Korea and visit me. I'll help pay for the flight and you can stay with us at the dorm. Is the issue with your passport?"

"My passport is fine." You sighed and took a moment before speaking again. "Are you sure, Hwa? Are the others okay with that? What about-"

"Everything will be fine. The others, our manager, and I have already discussed this in length and will probably want to discuss with you later."

"Well..." You didn't speak, which had Seonghwa feeling rejection would soon follow. "I would love to."

"...Is this a yes?"

"Yes it is." You chuckled. "I've been actually thinking of planning a visit after I graduate in May, but honestly, the sooner the better."

"Make sure to message the others about this, they'll be so happy." He smiled, unable to hide his excitement. "I am about to leave the office here soon. I will call you when I am back at the dorm."

"Get back safely."

"Of course. I will talk to you soon."

"And- Fuck!" You swore loudly.

"Is something wrong?" Worry seeped into his veins at how your voice sounded.

"I got stung by scorpion while island hopping."

Taglist: @stopeatread@hee0soo@pocketjoong-reads@seonghwaddict@tridkeys

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violetasteracademic · 2 months

Text

Chapter Five: Good Luck, Azriel

Summary:

A trip to the human lands leaves Azriel with more questions. Elain is ready for her first mission.

Warnings: None!

Preview:

Nesta pressed her lips into a thin line, face solemn as she debated what to say next.

"I've asked a lot of you when it comes to keeping Elain safe," she said carefully.

"I don't mind," Azriel shrugged. He would have done it anyway.

"I know you don't, that's not…" she blew out a frustrated breath. "Azriel, I know what you would be willing to do for her if it came down to it. And I want you to know…" Nesta shuddered, and Azriel's stomach twisted in anxious anticipation. "I need you to know that if I had watched Cassian die that day... if he stabbed himself in the heart for me, after all that time I spent pushing him away… I'm not sure I ever would have recovered."

Azriel nodded gently. "The thought of losing your mate like that… I can't even imagine. I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Azriel," Nesta shook her head. "It's not because Cassian is my mate. It's because I love him. I wasted so much time trying not to, and when I almost lost him, all I could think of was how selfish I had been. How pointless it was to hate myself more than I loved him. I was so afraid that he would die never knowing the truth. How madly, ridiculously, deeply in love with him I am. Beyond what I ever believed was possible. And that I would have said yes to him forever. Mate or no."

Azriel continued to nod. He didn't know what else to do. He and Nesta had always been able to talk with each other easily, even if the topics were complicated. But she looked at him like she needed him to solve a puzzle he didn't have the pieces to.

"You're not selfish, Nesta." That was all he could think to say.

She scoffed. "Oh, I certainly can be. But that's not the point."

"Okay…" Azriel was utterly lost.

Nesta let out an exasperated sigh. "Never mind. Just… don't die, okay? Especially not in front of Elain."

"I promise I will do everything in my power to not die in front of your sister."

Nesta chuckled, but it rang hollow. "I guess that will have to do."

Azriel continued to sort through Nesta's words as they made their way back to Velaris, unable to shake the sense that he was missing something. The flight was quiet, tension melting from Nesta's body as they crossed the border out of the Mortal Realm, cut over the corner of Spring, and followed the sea straight to Velaris.

Behind them, a trail of men who had tried and failed to break the Archeron sisters disappeared into the horizon.

"I won't let anything happen to her," Azriel said as he and Nesta finally landed outside the river house.

"I know you won't, Azriel," she replied. She raised a hand to his cheek- the touch so tender he almost drew back in shock. "Don't let anything happen to you, either."

Read the rest of chapter five on AO3 here.

Thank you so much for your patience! Giving myself two weeks between chapters did absolute wonders for my mental health, and it is my intention to continue a bi-weekly schedule from here on out.

I didn't think I would ever enjoy writing an Elriel story as much as Golden Doe, but I have been falling more and more in love with this new journey with each chapter. I truly hope you enjoy!

#elriel fanfic #elriel #elain x azriel #elain and azriel fanfic #elriel fic writers #elriel fanfiction

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theetherealbloom · 2 years

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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

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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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