#Jacob Richter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shuacore · 10 months ago

Text

barcelona nights

reader (afab) x lsm — 6.9K summary: "The music is all but static in the background, and for a moment it’s just the two of you again, drinking in the airless summer night and the sounds of other couples enjoying each other’s company. You run your thumb across Seokmin’s bottom lip, completely enraptured. His eyes are dangerously dark." —a/n: a fun little birthday present for my bffl ang <3 tags: swearing, smut (18+), probably too much plot n not enough smut, not completely proofread i’m so sorry, mentions of alcohol??, emotional and physical intimacy are my kryptonite, additional warnings under the cut

additional warnings: unprotected sex (always be safe pls!!), oral (f receiving), pet names (princess, baby, angel, etc), not very adventurous but i would do anything with him tbh

playlist 4 the vibes!!! wyoming — elijah fox a quick getaway — stephen rennicks spring 1 — max richter, antonio vivaldi puerto claridad — amparanoia bamboleo — gypsy kings since i don’t have you — the skyliners the sun is in your eyes — jacob collier tell me — groove theory

Sweat drips down the bridge of your nose as the precarious stack of books in your hands threatens to wobble. Please, for the love of God, don’t fall. The summer heat is brutal—hot and humid—and it sucks all of the energy out of you as you shuffle to the library. It had been a difficult week of research and you were finally returning your books, ready to throw them and the stress from working so hard away. A bead of sweat lingers on your brow, slipping onto your eyelid and you blink furiously, praying it stays there until you can set your burden down.

In your fervor, you walk a bit too close to the curb, your toes slipping off the edge—you feel the stack slip dangerously, and you curse out loud as you realize you’re falling, desperately clutching your books to your chest, the pavement below approaching a bit too fast when—

A hand clamps around your wrist, hauling you out of the street just as a car zooms past, ruffling your hair.

“Careful!” a male voice says, breathless. And when you get a good look at your savior, it feels like you’ve been rocketed into one of the dramas you and your roommates obsessed over.

His name is Lee Seokmin, he’s 25, an anthropology major, and he is the most handsome and charming man you have ever seen. He picks you up off the street, flashes you the most blinding smile, and then your mind goes blank. The rest is history.

So it’s no surprise to you after three years when he still asks questions like, “Do you remember when we met?” You resist the urge to scoff fondly. Always so sentimental.

It’s a warm summer evening as you sit on the plaza, observing the night life of a quiet coastal Spanish town you had come across during the day. You pause the furious digging in your purse—for something which you had forgotten some time ago—to look at your partner, whose eyes are glazed over in dreamy contentment.

“Really?” you ask, tampering down the amused look of disbelief that fights its way across your face. Seokmin hates being teased unless he initiates, even if it’s all in good fun.

“No, I’m serious,” he says, in unwavering sincerity, head lolling against the back of the bistro chair as he watches you unabashedly. Even after so many years, Seokmin’s eyes still set your skin on fire, and he looks so picturesque like this, just a little bit undone from the day’s toils and a few glasses of wine down the line. The collar of his shirt is open a few buttons down, exposing a swatch of buttery smooth skin that—after the drinks you’ve had—makes your mouth water. He looks like the last burst of fading sunlight before nightfall.

You shake your head with a small smile. “You’re ridiculous. Of course I do.”

Seokmin opens his mouth to say something else when his nostalgic reverie is interrupted by the waiter, who asks quietly if the two of you would like anything else. Your fiancé orders two more glasses of wine for the both of you, and thanks the waiter again as he finally takes the menus from your table.

It’s quieter now. The night is beginning to dwindle down, your bellies full of good food and wine, and in the distance the ocean waves wash across the rocky shores, pulling pebbles out to sea with quiet shushing sounds. The air is salty on your tongue, and you know you probably look a mess, especially after the long day of heat and humidity, but Seokmin watches you with shining eyes like you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You blush sheepishly, fingers finally finding your lipstick in the bottom of your bag.

“What?” you hiss without malice as Seokmin studies you. His cheeks are flushed, eyes shining even against the slowly dimming night light, and if you could commit an image to memory, if would be right here, right now, sitting at this table with him. Your stomach twists and you’re not sure if it’s a twinge of pain or an all-engulfing rush of affection, so instead you offer him another shy smile and replace your bag on the ground.

He shakes his head, more to himself, and says, “You’ll make fun of me.”

“Sure.”

“You’re just so radiant. All the time.”

You suck in a breath, cheeks burning and laugh nervously. Seokmin was an all-or-nothing kind of guy, which meant you got all of his affection, all the time. It was overwhelming in the beginning, seeing how devoted he could be to one person, but you had grown accustomed to the quiet deference in which he did everything for you. Compliments were near holy to him. Nothing was more intimate than your name. His actions always spoke louder than words. For a while you had been resistant to it—like you would never quite deserve all the love he had to give—but Seokmin had a way of worming his way into your heart and lodging there until his smile was the only thing you could think of when you woke up.

The waiter appears with two glasses in hand, asks once more if you need anything, before floating away again. You lift the glass—it’s a deep crimson and smells faintly sweet—and swirl the stem around in your fingers, watching the wine coat the sides of the glass with mesmerizing smoothness.

Seokmin lifts his glass and murmurs a toast. You say it back, and the glasses hit each other with a soft ding! His eyes glint at you over the rim as he takes a sip. The wine is velvet on your tongue, rich and full-bodied, and it sends a flurry of warmth down your throat.

You hum in appreciation and set the glass down on the table. Above, the stars blink into existence, mimicking the lights flickering to life around the plaza. They wash the patio in a lovely yellow glow, throwing Seokmin into soft relief. He looks a little out of it, pretty lips parted in hazy awe of the scenery around him. It’s still humid, but not too warm—just cool enough that it’s hard to tell where your body ends and the rest of the world begins. A moped passes by, its headlights bouncing off the stone walls of the buildings around you. The chatter from other cafe-goers could be white noise in the trees. In the background the sounds of sultry guitar float through the air, soaking into your skin and you sigh deeply, stretching your arms high into the air above you. It lulls you into a serene sense of calm and you close your eyes—just for a moment.

Then—“Hey, dance with me,” you hear, whispered by lips pressed to your ear, and you open your eyes slowly to see Seokmin crouched next to your chair, his hand extended in offering. He looks so lovely here, so unguarded and pleased, the same overwhelming feeling of adoration—so strong it overflows into your throat—is difficult to choke back down. You take another hearty swig of wine, feeling it sink into your stomach and turn your legs to jelly. It activates the fuzzy feeling sitting dormant in your body, lifting you out of your chair and into the plaza center with other couples swaying slowly to the music emanating across the square. It all feels so horribly cinematic you’re having difficulty believing any of it’s real.

You inhale sharply as Seokmin pulls you close to him, your bodies snapping together like magnets. His skin is sticky and warm from the summer heat as his hands brush over your ribcage and come to rest on your waist, coaxing you into a sensual rhythm of swaying hips and chests rising and falling in tandem. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you tight to his body. The wine keeps you limber—which is nice because otherwise you’d be two left feet with out it.

Seokmin tips his head to rest his sticky forehead against yours, eyes dancing with mirth in the evening light. His fingers press into the small of your back, searing through the gauzy fabric of your blouse, igniting a slow burn that sweeps through your whole body. You sigh deeply as your eyes flutter closed, taking in the sounds of soft timbales and claves bouncing off the stone under your feet, the heat from Seokmin’s body on yours, and his lips pressed against your skin, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear.

It’s sexy, to say the least. The laughter and conversations around you vanish until all you know is the sound of Seokmin’s breath ragged in your ear and hot on your cheek. He smells like rosemary and mint and the soap from the hostel. His lips dip dangerously low on your cheek until they brush over the skin under your jaw, sending a chill down your spine despite the heat. Seokmin smiles against your temple as your fingers toy with the hem of his shirt, skirting low over the smooth expanse of his stomach. He hums into your ear—a warning—as your fingertips trail just a little higher. But you’re still in public, so you pull back just enough to smile coyly at him and smooth the hem of his shirt back down.

The music is intoxicating, the melody swelling and swaddling you in a heady daydream of nothing but Seokmin. You tuck your nose into his shoulder, inhaling deeply as his fingers dance up your spine and land lightly on the back of your neck.

“God, I love you,” he confesses, and his laughter is swallowed by your lips suddenly on his, giddy and girlish. It’s just supposed to be an innocent peck—just a quick one you could share in public—but with the wine having gone completely to your head, the music reverberating in your chest, and Seokmin’s tongue in your mouth, it’s difficult to concentrate. Seokmin tastes like the Albariño you ordered, like lemon and nectarine, and so, so sweet your knees turn to liquid. He hums in content as a soft sigh escapes your mouth, unprompted. His hands are firm on your hips, fingers lacing through the belt loops of your skirt to pull you closer. You tangle your own in the damp strands at the nape of his neck, relishing the own sounds you can persuade from your partner’s throat.

Someone catcalls in the background and you come to with a start. Seokmin’s face is rosy—from the wine or from you, it’s hard to tell—but he’s well past the point of having the grace to look embarrassed. His eyes are glued to you, drinking you in completely. You grin, hiding your face in his chest. The music is all but static in the background, and for a moment it’s just the two of you again, drinking in the airless summer night and the sounds of other couples enjoying each other’s company. You run your thumb across Seokmin’s bottom lip, completely enraptured. His eyes are dangerously dark.

“Go back to the hotel?” you whisper, mouth hovering mere centimeters away from his.

Seokmin’s next kiss is indication enough. Grabbing your purse, he throws a few bills onto the bistro table before tugging you away from the plaza. Street signs bleed into flights of rickety stairs and cobblestone alleyways into flowered medians and quiet side roads. The ocean roars in greeting as you run unsteadily back to your hotel. Street lamps blaze into life amid loud shouts of laughter from nearby pedestrians, and the fluttery feeling in your stomach only grows. The only thing that stays constant is the feeling of Seokmin’s hand in yours, firm and reassuring.

Then, unprompted, Seokmin tugs you into a hidden alcove off the street, and presses you hard against the brick wall, tilting your jaw up with his thumbs to pull you into a searing kiss. He draws in a sharp breath, groaning softly into your mouth as you sag into his touch. You feel like a teenager again, sneaking off the beaten path so you can put your hands all over each other. Seokmin is impatient—his hands dig into your hips, his mouth is on your jaw, and his body is so hot it’s any wonder he hasn’t yet burst into flames.

“Seokmin,” you gasp, nails digging into his chest, breaking away. His excitement is palpable. He groans, irritated, and tips his forehead against your cheek, still holding you tight to him like you might still slip through his fingers. You extract yourself from his grasp, a little dizzy from the lack of oxygen and pull him away from the wall amidst protests. The privacy of your hotel room can’t arrive fast enough and it feels like eons before you’re pushing Seokmin against the back of the door yourself—so hard the air is knocked from his lungs—but he grins breathlessly as he draws you close, hip to hip, chest to chest, mouth to mouth.

You breath him in, smelling the lingering traces of cigarette smoke and lavender from the night markets on his clothes. Seokmin is all teeth and all tongue, hands traveling up and down the curve of your waist, over your ass, up your forearms and shoulders. His thumb tugs on your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open as he slips his tongue in once more. You dissolve in his hands like water—you’ve always been so pliant with him, so eager to please it goes straight to his head.

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbles, hand holding your jaw in place. His eyes are asking for a challenge.

But you feel needy and slightly hysterical that it’s all you can do to say weakly, “You.”

Seokmin’s breath is hot in your mouth and you have no choice but to ride the wave. This is Seokmin’s all-or-nothing, as he drags your thin linen blouse off your shoulders, popping the top button clean off amid breathless laughter so he can press more open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder and collarbone. You sigh deeply, winding your fingers into the hair at the back of his head again, chasing his lips with potent desperation. Seokmin grins, canines glinting wolfishly in the moonlight. It’s difficult to see in the burgeoning darkness—nothing but vague shadows dancing on the walls—so you kick off your shoes haphazardly, stumbling until your knees eventually strike the edge of the bed. You hit the mattress with a huff!, Seokmin in tow. His hand is hot against your bare skin, palm pressed flat to your chest where your heart races.

“This is your fault, by the way,” you tease, and Seokmin feigns sympathy, except his fingers are little too far up your thigh for the sympathy to land. You suck in a breath, eyes burning as Seokmin gazes at you with undisguised want, eyes flicking around your face in a dizzying pattern—eyes, lips, cheeks, forehead, nose, eyes, lips—like it was the first time he’d ever seen you. The air grows thicker like mud, sticking in your nose and throat and you struggle to swallow, pushing yourself off the bed.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Seokmin asks, voice laced with worry. His figure is clothed in deep blue shadow in the imminent darkness. Air is sparse, and anxiety flares in your stomach, unexpected, and you press a hand to your racing heart, willing it to slow. Your pulse is erratic and you realize you’re nervous.

“Woah, talk to me,” Seokmin pleads again, sitting up. His fingers around your wrist are soft, like all of him, and it eases the sudden ache in your chest, even if just a little. You place your other hand on top of his, stroking your thumb over his knuckles.

Your voice is hoarse. “Just nervous. I don’t know why—it’s so silly.”

And then Seokmin is there, tucking you into his arms and his nose in your hair, swaying as he holds you for a moment.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. You know that.”

You frown, pushing away from his chest. “No–no, I want this. Just–had a moment, but I’m ok.” You lean your forehead on his shoulder again. “I’m always ok when I’m with you.” The quiet presses in on your ears. The incessant buzzing in your fingertips fades to the background, slowing to the steady rhythm of Seokmin’s heartbeat in his chest—reliable as always, a constant you had come to memorize like the spots on his face.

“I’m right here, baby,” he whispers against your temple. “Whatever you want.”

The soft glow from the street lamps outside illuminate his features in a tranquil yellow hue. He looks angelic, always so gentle and willing, that it sucks the remaining air out of your lungs.

He settles back on the edge of bed, hands resting on your hips as he gazes up at you with adoration so tangible it makes your heart ache. You run your fingers gently through his hair, pushing the dark strands off his forehead and trace the shape of his profile with your pointer finger, down his forehead and the bridge of his nose, pausing over his waiting lips, down his chin until you grasp it in between your thumb and forefinger.

“You’re beautiful, too, you know?” you say, voice soft. And Seokmin smiles, pleased, and it lights up his whole face, sending a bolt of warmth down your throat like lightning. The crashing waves of the ocean are muffled under the sound of your heart in your ears. Seokmin is quiet, arms tight around your waist. Had it not been for the pulsing rhythm in your body, this might have been a tender moment—but the heat is still there, prodding in your stomach, building, smoldering, aching.

You want him. Bad.

With a noise of impatience, you pull his face back towards yours, curving your body to pull him in, kissing him longingly, hoping he’ll sense the desperation growing in your stomach, understand the way you need to feel him under and over and inside you. Seokmin reads you like the back of his hand—senses the tension in your shoulders—and knows that if he uses his mouth just right your last remaining shred of self-control will snap.

He pulls at the rest of the buttons on your blouse with agonizing restraint, kissing every inch of skin revealed with painstaking deference. His mouth trails down your sternum, pausing as he listens to the quiet exhales that leave your mouth. The skin on your stomach is sensitive to his touch, and you bite back a few nervous giggles as Seokmin ghosts his lips just down to where the waistband of your skirt rests on your hips. His thumbs dig into the skin there, and he peers up at you, eyes sparkling mischievously. Asking for permission. You nod, breath shallow in your throat.

“Should be on my knees for a princess,” your fiancé murmurs lowly, dropping to his knees in front of you. What had been a steady flame in your gut erupts into a hunger so strong it might consume you from the inside out. Your mouth goes dry as he gentle pulls you down to the mattress, urging you to sit.

In the same tender manner, Seokmin lifts the sole of your foot to his lips, eyes darkening as your breath quickens yet. His breath fans across your bare skin, up your ankles and your shin, before he pauses to press a hot kiss to the inside of your knee, teeth digging into the soft skin there. The static in your ears increases tenfold as his other hand pushes the hem of your skirt up to your waist. Seokmin’s mouth continues upward, stopping on the supple skin of the inside of your thighs. Hunger gnaws at your insides by now, and you tense your stomach in anticipation. Seokmin’s pupils are blown wide—impossibly dark as he takes you in—forcing you backwards, his mouth hovering just over the fabric in between you and complete bareness. Your breath quickens—waiting, waiting, waiting—as Seokmin’s tongue trails from the inside of your knee right to where your thigh pools at your hip.

And then, with a dazed smirk, he sets your foot down—not on the floor—but gently over the bulge in his pants. Seokmin leans forward ever so slightly, eyes daring. Already he’s so hard, even under his trousers and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from falling apart right there.

“See what you do to me?” he rasps, breath hitching as you press your foot down—just a little—to feel him so vulnerable under you. Your panties are soaked by now—it feels like you’re wearing nothing at all. Seeing Seokmin like this, shirt unbuttoned to his stomach, hair still styled so nicely, lips parted with desire; you want him like this, now, all the time.

“Seokmin–fuck–” you choke, the words ripped from your mouth as you feel his tongue, wet and hot over your panties. Seokmin tosses one of your feet over his shoulder as he wraps his fingers in the waistband, pulling your panties taut. The ability to control yourself is lost. You curve into his touch as Seokmin gently pulls your panties aside, and presses one last reverent kiss to the inside of your hip.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, breath fanning across your skin, “always so beautiful for me.” Then his mouth is on you, open-mouthed and scorching on your cunt, the tip of his tongue circling around your clit, tasting every part of you. You clench your fists into the sheets, gasping for air as he wraps his strong arms around your thighs to pin you down. Even still, you squirm away from his mouth, hands pushing at his head as he sends you to cloud nine. His eyes are searing even behind closed eyelids as he drinks your pleasure, watching in rapture.

Seokmin’s voice is almost inaudible over the thrum of your heart in your ears. “You like the way I worship you, baby?”

“Yes, please, yes, oh my god, Seokmin, please,” you plead, lurching upwards to curl around his head as a particularly powerful bolt of pleasure rushes through your body. He’s ruthless, nails biting into your thighs as you writhe in pleasure, nose bumping against your clit, mouth planted firmly on your pussy as your cries become higher and more desperate. It builds and builds and builds, a rope in your gut stretching and pulling until you feel like you might snap in half. The pleasure mounts as Seokmin crudely licks his tongue up your cunt, pressed flat against your skin and you release a strangled groan, fingers knotting in his hair.

“S–Seokmin, I’m—” you gasp, body tensed in anticipation.

And then he leans back, and your release fades as quickly as it appeared. Your body aches uncomfortably. The mattress sinks down on either side of you as he braces his hands by your head. Seokmin grins, tucking a few pieces of hair gently behind your ear, dragging your mouth open with his thumb once more to push his tongue past your lips. He tastes like you and he moans as you pull him in by the back of his neck, kissing him fiercely.

“You’re a dick,” you protest, shoving his shoulder. Seokmin’s smile is tender, his cheeks flushed despite his actions just moments ago.

“Hey,” he says in between kisses to your collarbone that stifle the feeble protests spewing from your mouth, “I don’t wanna go too fast.”

You groan weakly, as he shifts his knee in between your thighs. He wraps his fingers around one of your ankles, lifting it up onto his hip.

“But I wanna feel you,” you complain, looping your arms around his neck as if to urge him on. But Seokmin just shakes his head, grinning. His leg shifts again, pressing against the ache in between your thighs and you instinctively roll your hips, mouth dropping open at the touch. He places a large hand on your pelvis, pinning you to the bed.

“I’m taking my time with you,” he says against your mouth, smiling as you sag onto the bed.

He wanted to fuck slow.

And he does, touching you with feather-light pressure, building your frustration and anticipation until you’re a sweating, panting, desperate disaster in his hands—and only then does Seokmin let you feverishly remove the rest of his clothes. The desire to feel him, see him, taste him has grown so vicious you might cry. He perches on the edge of the bed again, and with shaking hands you jerk the rest of his shirt off his broad shoulders, scraping your nails down his chest to the belt at his waist. You’ve always loved Seokmin’s body—its strong, lithe build, all toned and smooth. Seokmin curses under his breath, tossing his head back in pleasure as you kiss along his jaw and down his torso. The muscles in his stomach tense under your touch, pulled taut as your lips reach his hips again. Slowly, you undo the button on his trousers, all the while keeping burning eye contact. You want Seokmin to see how much you need him.

“Let me touch you,” you whisper against his abdomen, waiting for the desperate nod, before your fingers slip under the waistband of his briefs to finally take him in your hand. Seokmin moans low and you moan with him, imagining when he would finally let you take him, how he would stretch you out, and you’d finally feel all of him.

You pull your hand back to spit, making sure to keep your eyes on him as you do, before wrapping your fingers around his length again. Seokmin’s voice is choked in his throat as you run your hand up and down his entire shaft, taking care to twist your fist around the base of his cock, delicately trailing up and around the head, soaking up every breathy sound of satisfaction that leaves Seokmin’s lips.

With palpable restlessness, you yank the rest of Seokmin’s clothes off, straddling him on the edge of the bed again. He feels the damp fabric of your panties against his thigh and groans, his fingers knitting into your hair to kiss you again, feverish and wanting. You grind down, feeling his cock hard against your pussy and laugh weakly—except it sticks in your throat as Seokmin’s nails dig into your hip, dragging your cunt down his length again.

“You want me so bad, don’t you?” Seokmin goads, hand holding the back of your head as you roll your hips up and down his length with increasing desperation. Your nails dig into his chest. He pulls your panties to the side, eyes fluttering closed as your arousal slides over his skin. The heat of the room muddles your brain, heightening every sensation. You’re already so wet, needy and willing to do anything to make the tightness in your stomach go away. “Want me to fuck you, baby?”

“Please–” you beg, “need you. Seokmin–”

His lips are crushing, destroying any semblance of thought you might have had.

“Go ahead, princess,” Seokmin groans, as you pull your panties to the side, sliding two fingers into yourself and using your arousal to lubricate his cock again. The weight of Seokmin’s cock in your hand, the sound of your fingers sliding down the length is enough to have you weak in the knees. Seokmin’s hands splay across your back, propping you up as you line up his cock with your entrance.

Your fiancé has always been a romantic, and this time is no different as Seokmin kisses you, open mouth waiting to breathe in your needy moans as you slowly sink down onto his cock. In your agitation, it’s still tight, extracting a few hisses of discomfort out of you. But Seokmin is there, soothing you with quiet shushes against your lips, thumbs stroking your cheeks as you take him all the way. He stretches you out, nice and slow, drawing the air from your lungs.

There you go, that’s my girl. You’re doing so well, baby.

His praise rolls over you like late afternoon sunlight, settling in your chest until you feel lightheaded—the love in your chest is too much to take. It feels more intimate than usual, being nose to nose with Seokmin like this, seeing every emotion flicker in his eyes, feeling his breath fan over your face as he pants. You comb your fingers through his hair and cup his face in your hands, as the fluttery, panicky desperation for a hold on reality reappears in your chest again. You gasp as Seokmin shifts farther onto the bed, nails biting into his scalp as he pulls you closer.

He can surely feel the supersonic pace of your heart against his chest and he shushes you gently, pressing his lips against your sternum.

“I–I just need you to relax, sweetheart,” you hear him murmur in your daze, hands running up and down your spine. “Just a little more.”

You nod, eyes squeezes shut as you try to swallow the trepidation in your stomach. Seokmin takes it all with grace; his voice is like honey in your ear, sticky and sweet, whispering soft reassurances. Seokmin’s love can be so strong—even after all this time—that it overwhelms you, leaving you vulnerable and defenseless. You’re not used to the devotion that even now, it sometimes takes a little to get used to, so you tuck your nose in the crook of his neck. The smell of sunshine still sticks to his skin, like a moth to a flame.

“Baby, are you still with me?” Seokmin asks, forefinger petting your cheek. “Hm?”

You nod wordlessly, breathing deeply while Seokmin watches, attentive, until you’ve finally taken all of him. Seokmin bottoms out with a strangled groan, and presses a chaste kiss to your lips, chest stuttering as you roll your hips with impatience. Even then, it’s still too much right away and you freeze, gasping for breath.

“Hey,” Seokmin says, holding your face in his hands, “we have all night. Take it slow.”

“I know I just—ah–” you whine, stubborn, as you roll your hips again—ignoring the vague hesitancy in your stomach—this time relishing in the dull ache in between your legs, feeling the stretch and pull as Seokmin coaxes your hips into a lazy rhythm. He watches closely, mapping out your body with his hands, leaving you out of breath and hazy in the head. You throw your head back as he kisses your exposed throat, mouth hot over your skin.

Seokmin rests his hand at the base of your throat—not quite squeezing—and leaves it there. The possessive glint in his eyes is enough to say you are mine. Mine. The thought alone is enough to have you falling into his touch.

Mine.

He slips the other hand lower, using his thumb to rub circles around your clit, persuading languorous moans from your mouth, watching you with sordid fascination as you respond to his every touch. You brace your hand on his knee, brow furrowing as the pleasure in your core molds into shape. It’s hot and heavy, radiating so strongly it makes your arm shake.

“Just like–that,” you whine, nails digging into Seokmin’s thigh as he fucks into you slow, gripping your ass so hard you know it’ll leave marks. He curses as you clench around his cock, urging him to go faster. But Seokmin is, and always has been, more patient than you, and he grins slowly, even through heavy-lidded eyes clouded with lust, gripping your hips tight enough to still your movement.

“What did I say?” he challenges, lips hovering millimeters over yours. You frown, protests falling on deaf ears, as he leans in closer. His lips brush yours as he whispers, “Go. Slow.”

So you try, rolling your hips, grinding down on his cock until you think you might die, until your restlessness is as tangible as the arousal dripping onto Seokmin’s thighs. He fluctuates between playing with your clit–just until you’re on the verge of release—and waiting, just long enough to keep the buzz in your body at bay. Your knees ache as you hold yourself up, feeling Seokmin’s cock slide and and out, his hands in your hair and on your ass. He edges you, daring you to come first each time you whimper you’re close, waiting until the shaking in your fingers stops just for him to continue.

You’ve never been a crier, but after twenty minutes of this, you’re certain that even a slight breeze would cause you to come undone. Seokmin’s cock rests deep inside to the hilt, his mouth is on your skin, and you know that if he moves, you’ll come harder than you ever have before.

“Baby, please,” you beg, hips jerking at every slight movement, “please–”

Seokmin smiles, and even just the sight of his pretty teeth have the tears you’ve been holding back, rolling down your cheeks like two big fat admissions of defeat. You suck in a breath as Seokmin lifts you off his cock, dropping you onto your back on the mattress. He places one of your ankles over his shoulder, pressing you down by the back of your thigh as you toss the other around his waist.

The sounds coming from your mouth are less than human as Seokmin runs his fingers through your arousal again, placating your whines with his lips. You feel like you’re about to snap.

“Seokmin, fuck me.” It sounds so ridiculous coming from your mouth you think you might cry again, but the thought is shoved away as Seokmin slaps his cock against your needy cunt a few times, pulling more animalistic cries from your throat.

“Soon, pet,” he grins, and then his cock is pushing into you again, his fingers on your clit, his eyes dark and earnest as your whole body tenses in his arms.

Your nails claw into his skin and he hisses, brow furrowed, as you drag them down his back with uncharacteristic force, but the thought of his beautiful back marked by your torment only feeds the fire in your belly. You arch your spine, pressing into him as Seokmin draws his cock back out, still much slower than you would like. He’s just winding you up at this point, seeing just how far you’re breaking point is.

Seokmin tuts, simpering as you pant deliriously under him. He leans down, brushing his lips over your cheekbone to rest his forehead against yours. You groan impatiently.

“Patience, lamb,” Seokmin urges, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, and you frown like a petulant child. Your protests are quickly silenced as he moves, pushing into you with little urgency, pulling back out with agonizing slowness, relishing in the tiny sounds escaping your tightly clamped lips. His strokes are languid as he holds you close to his body. Sometimes it feels like a challenge, to see how long you can go without indulging Seokmin, but today every sensation is amplified tenfold—the smell of his hair, the feeling of his skin, his fingers on your body, his tongue in your mouth, his cock deep inside. He holds your head in between his hands, petting your hair when you tense, whispering sweet words against your skin.

“Look at me, baby,” Seokmin murmurs, brushing the hair off your forehead. Your pry your eyes open, resisting every impulse to squeeze them shut again as Seokmin pushes into you again, this time with more heat, feeling the burn in his own body increase as you brace yourself against his shoulders. His strokes are long and deep, barely a second apart before he drives back into you to the hilt, swimming in the crude sounds of skin against skin. A chorus of moans fills the room as Seokmin finally fucks you into subspace, your head going foggy with pleasure. The sounds leaving your mouth are barely coherent—just a messy jumble of garbled syllables. Seokmin is unrelenting. His stomach is tense with the effort it takes to keep up his pace. You’ve all but given up on keeping your eyes open, instead falling openly into the pleasure that builds in your gut again.

Good girl. Just a little more, I promise. Look at you, so beautiful like this. Just like that.

Good girl.

My girl.

You want to hold on. You want to hold on as long as possible. But Seokmin’s praise washes over you like the tide, saccharine and familiar, so you come again and again, feeling insurmountable pleasure pulse through your body—white-hot and blinding—so intense it leaves you breathless and weak, as Seokmin’s voice continues to flit in and out of focus.

“God!” you plead, as an orgasm so powerful it rips your voice from your throat tears through you. Your nails bite crescents into your fiancé’s shoulders, and you jolt upward to kiss Seokmin feverishly, fingers carding desperately through his hair as he fucks you through your high.

“Where–” Seokmin stutters, jaw clenched.

So you breathe, “In me,” and Seokmin groans long and low, as he comes undone, his release hot inside you, fingers searching for yours as he heaves. His hand is clammy and you smooth your other over his cheek, thumb skating over his cheekbone. Seokmin looks ragged, hair fucked and messy, lip bleeding from where you bit him in a fit of passion. He kisses you again, hungry and desperate as if the last forty minutes hadn’t been enough of you for him. Then he pulls out slowly, frowning apologetically as you wince in discomfort. He sets your foot back on the bed, before pressing one last, sweet kiss to your pelvis. You feel fucked raw, sensitive from all that the two of you had done.

Seokmin always ravishes you like it’s the first time he gets to hold you, taking his time until the bedsheets are tangled around your limbs and you’re both utterly spent. He loves you deep into the night, until the sun threatens to peek over the horizon. The dreamy cerulean color of the sky tells you it’s far too late for you to be awake. The street noise below has become all but mute, as the townspeople slumber peacefully in their homes. It’s the birdsong that pulls you from your reverie, still bleary-eyed and a little limp, so sudden you place your palms flat on Seokmin’s chest and stare at him in disbelief. He hums in acknowledgment, stirring from his place at your side.

“What time is it?” you rasp, voice hoarse from use.

Seokmin groans, reaching for his phone and murmurs, “Almost 4:30.”

Your eyes open a few more centimeters. “It’s been—it’s been all night.”

Your fiancé flashes his usual heartbreaking smile. “I know,” he says, and groans as he turns onto his side to look at you, “but I just wanted to be with you.” He tucks his arm under his head, reaching out a hand to run his thumb over your bottom lip. You kiss the pad of his thumb, leaning into his touch. “I love you.”

It always feels like a promise coming from his lips.

You flop back onto the bed, wincing at the twinge in your ass and roll over onto your stomach, tucking your chin over your folded hands. The Spanish coast is quiet, and for a while it’s just you and the ocean and the intimate sounds of Seokmin’s even breathing as he falls back asleep.

The next thing you feel are his lips on the base of your spine, and the early afternoon sun in your eyes. You blink groggily, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand as Seokmin kisses up your back. Goosebumps erupt on your skin and you wrap yourself in the top sheet, smiling sweetly as Seokmin leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, and rolls off the bed—still naked—over to the small kitchenette. “Coffee?”

You lift your arms high over your head, stretching until your muscles feel sore and limber, sighing deeply. “Mm, please.” Seokmin nods and grabs two espresso cups from the cupboard.

From your spot on the bed, you settle back, admiring the view of your beautifully sculpted fiancé preparing morning coffee. He’s started working out again, and you see the smooth muscles across his back flex as he stretches. Your eyes trace the graceful curve of his spine to his narrow hips and you flush, stifling a nervous giggle. Even making coffee while butt-naked, Seokmin exudes an easy confidence that sets you at peace, the slope of his shoulders relaxed as he waits for the espresso to finish brewing. The aroma of coffee curls into the air and you smile to yourself, tucking your chin into the palm of your hand. How did you get to be so lucky?

Seokmin catches you staring and breaks you from your trance by kissing your temple, holding a small espresso in his hand.

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes glinting with amusement. You tilt your head and just nod, scooting so he can join you on the bed again and press a kiss to his bare shoulder. Seokmin still smells like his sunscreen. He squeezes your thigh again, gazing wordlessly over the balcony at the coastline. It’s picturesque—nothing exists beyond this hotel room except for you and him.

The espresso is warm in your hands, but Seokmin’s body is warmer.

You’ll never be cold again.

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infernalodie · 2 years ago

Note

OKAY SO I GOT THIS REQUEST — former!ellie x reader, current!abby x reader; based on the song Left For Dead by Kiki Rockwell, specifically the part “my lover left me for dead, my pretty little body keeps the wolves fed.” The lover being Ellie and the wolves (obviously) being Abby😫 just a bunch of angst and smut (if possible😗). Where Ellie chooses Dina over r in a life or death situation and like Abby (coincidentally) finds R half dead from other humans and takes her back to her hideout or whatever and like nurses her back to health:) sorry it’s so long and it’s fine if you don’t want to, can just ignore this🫶🏼 luv u and your writing!!

a/n: Took me a long time to pick this one up, but here we go!

𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 || 𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

Inspo: Jacob Banks - Devil That I Know Kiki Rockwell - Left For Dead Max Richter - The Young Mariner

Pairing: Abby Anderson x Black!Fem!reader

Summary: Left for dead with a heart of love...

Warnings: Angsty as fuck with a large bit of torture

Part Two - Finale

Words: 4858

Ragged breaths filled the air of the small janitor’s closet. The surface of the workbench and small shelves holding cleaning chemicals are covered in dust. Dirty old rags on the ground. Some left previously, and new ones that had crimson seeped into the fabric. Pieces of medical tape were ripped and discarded along with the garments that had been torn to fashion some sort of bandage.

Your mouth was gagged by your shirt and jacket you bit down on. The soft cold breeze inside the room sent chills down your exposed stomach as you pressed the fabric from your shirt against the bullet wound. A groan fell from your lips as you ran a stripe of tape over the fabric, feeling extra pressure causing white hot pain to flash behind your eyes.

Pants fell from your lips as you released the articles of clothing from your mouth. A speckle of spit left on your lips as you blinked tiredly. “Fucking, Wolves.” Your soft hiss slipped from your lips as you grabbed your gun from beside you. Carefully, you sit up near the door and press your ear to the wood.

It’d only been minutes ago that you had been chased down. Left for dead by your now ex-girlfriend and friend, who you weren’t even sure made it out. If they did and if you made it out of here, you were going to kill them, literally. After saving their asses countless times back in Jackson, this is how they were going to repay you? Oh, yeah, you’re going to fucking gut the two of them.

But that would be the last thing you ever did as footsteps approached the closet. And before you could even respond, the door swung open. Light projected into the room, blinding you as you raised a hand to try and allow your eyes to adjust.

“I found the demon!” The person called as your brows furrowed together.

You crawled back, lifting your gun and aiming at the large figure before gunshots filled the air. The air lost in your lungs was regained with your gasping when seeing the Seraphites body thud against the ground. You kept to the corner of the room as a full-on firefight took place beyond the doorway. But with your mind still in a daze from your wound, you weren’t to put up a fight. Needing more rest than anything else.

It took a while but the gunfire soon seized to exist. Incoherent yells were heard outside as you blinked tiredly, swallowing the lump in your throat as you held your stomach. Footsteps approached, then stopped. “Manny, Mel, we have an outsider!”

Still, in a slight daze, you lifted your head. Your eyes shot wide as saucers as you made eye contact with her, Abby. The entire reason for you being out here and following Ellie to Seattle. Hell, in a way, Abby was the reason why she was bleeding to death in this janitor’s closet alone.

Two other figures, Mel and Manny you guessed came behind Abby. “You know the orders, Abs,” Manny stated, sending a knowing look to the muscular girl.

Their knowledgeable conversation left a horrible dread in your stomach. But you knew that if you put up a fight, you died. Even if you didn’t they would kill you nonetheless. And either way, you hadn’t killed someone before. You were out here to keep Dina and Ellie alive with your medical skills, not kill anyone.

So, it piqued the trio’s interest when you slid your gun their way. Staring down at the Baretta before back at you, finding you shaking your head. “Kill me if you have to,” you breathed. “I’ll put up less of a fight than Joel and Tommy did.”

With the mere mention of the two men, one she killed, Abby felt her chest tighten. “You’re from Jackson?” Abby asked, coming over and dropping to a knee beside you.

A shaky laugh fell from your lips. “Born and raised,” you said half-heartedly. “I shouldn’t even fuckin’ be here right now. Goddamnit, Ellie.” You muttered aloud, feeling Abby carefully lift the hem of your shirt to see your wound.

The bandage you had crafted had done very little to stop the blood flow. It caught a decent amount, restraining the slash of the blade performed by one of the cult members you ran into, but it wasn’t enough to hold everything else in. The cotton had become so damp that your blood began to slither past the bandage and down soaking into your pants and down your waistline.

“Is there anyone else with you?” Mel asked, coming to join your side, shrugging off her backpack and beginning to take out a medical kit.

Manny, who seemed confused by the two girls helping you, said, “Guys, Issac told us to deal with any Outsiders if we encounter them-”

“Manny, shut up for a second, alright?” Abby interjected, silencing him. He pursed his lips, turning towards the door to keep watch.

“There were people with me, but they left me for dead,” you answered the doctor’s question. “I thought I killed one of your people, but I don’t even know who the fuck is out there. I mean, I can’t kill anyone - I’ve never killed anyone - and it was just in the heat of the moment and I- I-”

Your rambling was stopped by Abby, who placed a hand on your shoulder. The touch made you flinch away, mind still conscious of the fact that this was the same girl that killed your mentor. A man who had cared for you and saved your life a handful of times. And you should be exacting the revenge you sought out here to do. To get payback, but truthfully, you were more inclined to not do it in spite of Ellie.

But you knew Joel wouldn’t you risking your life for something he caused to save Ellie. Unlike your ex, you weren’t clouded in rage. Sure, you were angry that you lost someone close to you, but that was the way of life. You mourn them and then you have to carry on. Nothing more than that. And Joel would’ve wanted you to have a healthy and careful life.

When Mel began to apply a new bandage, you cried out. Hand flying to Abby’s arm where you held on for dear life. Head thrown back against the wall as your face scrunched up in pain. “There others here, in Seattle,” you told them, trying to distract your mind from the pain surrounding your abdomen. “I don’t know where they are now. But your friend, the guy with the scar across his face and Leah, they’re both dead.”

The trio looked at you, shock evident in their eyes as you stared at them uneasily. “Leah was killed by those cultists and Ellie… she killed the other guy when he had a bag over my head,” you said. “If I could, I would’ve saved him and talked to him civilly. But my girlfriend was more inclined to make fun of him. I’m sorry.”

“What’s your name?” Abby asked, changing the subject purposefully. Although it surprised you, you cleared your throat with a groan.

“Y/n. Y/n Y/L/N,” You answered.

She nodded. “Well, Y/n, we’re going to get you proper medical treatment,” she told you. “Can you walk?”

You pursed your lips in doubt, and she opted to just lift you up, arm under your knees and the other around your lower back. A squeak falls from your lips with your arms wrapping around her neck. Tucking your face in her shoulder to hide the evidence of pain on your face. Abby successfully got you out of the janitor’s closet of a school that Ellie and Dina left you some time ago. Leg’s still aching from the debris that had prevented you from following the pair in a classroom somewhere down the hall. That and the door Ellie had consciously blocked with a desk, leaving you inside with a Clicker.

Stepping outside, you were quick to spot the truck that had a dog inside, sitting and waiting patiently. “Wait. Wait, a sec.” Abby stopped at your request, looking down at you in question. You bit your bottom lip, looking at her and the truck and shaking her head. “If Ellie finds me with you, she’s going to kill us. Maybe you should leave me here or something. I promise you, I’ll be out of Seattle before you know it. I don’t want to be locked up in a cage or killed by-”

“You’re coming with us.” The soft, yet, the unwavering firm tone in Abby’s lips silenced you. Lowering your head as Mel popped open the hitch and helped Abby pull you inside. “Manny, drive us back to the stadium. Mel and I will see how we can help, Y/n.”

“Abby, Issac’s going to kill us for bringing an outsider back-”

“Manny, just fucking drive,” Abby ordered. “At most, he’ll question her about the people that she was with.” The Hispanic man pursed his lips, cursing quietly before hopping into the truck and starting it. Leaving Abby to close the hatch and crouch by your side with Mel on the opposite side.

Retrieving items from her bag, Mel pulled out a set of bandages. “I’m just gonna replace the one you made so we can stop you from losing any more blood,” she explained. “When we get back to the base, I’ll clean the wound and stitch you up.”

Although the idea sounded great, you shook your head. “We need to disinfect it now,” you told her. “In my pack are a few bottles of Vodka. We can use that as an antiseptic until we get to your base.”

“You’re a doctor?” Mel inquired, eyes slightly widened in surprise.

You nodded. “Learned enough to know how to patch me or others up,” you explained. “Father taught me.”

Grabbing your bag, Mel grabbed one of the bottles you spoke of and took off the lid. “This is going to hurt like a motherfucker.”

“Oh, I know,” you chuckled, teeth slightly gritting in anticipation. “Let’s just get it over with.”

There seemed to be a pause where you built up the preparation in your mind and Mel tried to find confidence in doing the action. But those milliseconds didn’t carry on for too long before you were screaming in agony. Head slamming against the truck bed, nails creating crescent moons in your palm. You hadn’t even realized the sudden flailing of your arms and legs.

“Abby, hold her down!” The taller girl did as told, placing her hands firmly on your shoulders as you cried. When the stream of the intoxicating liquid seized, you were painted on the pale side of the visual. Mel quickly worked to bandage the wound and Abby tried to keep you at ease and not throw up anywhere or pass out.

Which was fruitless when you let out a sigh before your eyes fluttered shut from exhaustion. Abby clenched her teeth as she sat on the side benches along the edge of the truck bed. “Her body is just tired and in pain, Abs,” Mel stated. “But you need to know that Manny is right. Once I patch her up, Issac is just going to put her in a cage and torture her for information.”

“I know.” Abby ran a hand down her face, unable to retract her gaze from your sleeping features. So at peace and finally calm after all the bullshit you had been through. Truthfully, she had no reason to believe you and she didn’t, but she did believe you when you said you shouldn’t be out here. You were smaller in frame and height than Mel. Standing at full height, you were around Abby’s bicep and you didn’t have any defining muscle on you that screamed power in any fight. And that fact that you hadn’t killed anyone and were out here chasing after her showed that you were mentally strong. She just didn’t know if that would be able to carry on when Issac got his hands on you.

A groan shook at the back of your throat as you stirred awake. Face wincing in pain as your body ached and wished for you to rest for longer. Attempting to move your arms resulted in the harsh burn of something around your wrists. Eyes flickering open to find yourself in the center of a poorly lit room. An old fashion torch lamp was set on a few crates near a window that was blocked out by the sun by some white curtains.

Looking down at herself, she found herself in her old pair of dirty jeans with the same shirt on. But her wrists and ankles were tied together. Restrained to a chair with the harsh burn of rope being her reminder of defiance.

“Ah, good. You’re awake.” You watched with fearful eyes as the man stepped inside with a bottle of water. Shutting the door behind him and locking it before making his way over. Grabbing a discarded chair and dragging it towards you. The sound of the hind legs scratching across the ground made you wince. Sitting in the chair opposite of you, the man took a seat and smiled. “Now, we can talk about why you’re in my city.”

Issac. That was who you guessed this guy to be. He didn’t seem like some middle-class wolf taking orders from a higher power. He maintained a level of intimidation that came off as something natural. The way he talked, walked and even looked. Nothing got past this man without his say-so. And telling by how he seemed already annoyed told you that you were suspect number one for some of his troops roaming the city were dying.

Sloshing the water bottle around in front of him, he silently held it toward you. Looking between the bottle and the man, you let out a strangled sigh through your nose and nodded. Twisting the cap off, he held the open end to your lips and tilted it back enough for you to take a sip. Parting when you felt the dryness of your throat subside.

“Now, tell me where you’re from, who you’re with and how many of you there are,” Issac said in his gruff voice. “If you don’t, I’ll make this helluva lot worse for you.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you let out a slow controlled breath. “I’m from Jackson,” you started. “Came here by myself when I ran away from home-”

A loud laugh fell from Issac’s lips as he shook his head, and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. His dark eyes never strayed from your own. “Do I need to bring in my three soldiers that saved your life and ask them what you told them?” He asked, leaning his arms on his knees. “Or am I going to have to force the truth out of you?”

“I am telling you- MOTHERFUCKER!” You groaned eyes clamped shut at the feeling of a blade stabbed into your thigh. If he had stabbed any higher, he might’ve hit your femoral artery, but this would be easy to patch up. Of course, that’s if you survived past Issac’s torture.

“Y/n.” The use of your name on the man’s tongue was vile. It left a shiver running down your body as your eyes opened to find the man staring at your pained expression intently. “Your girlfriend left you for dead, right?” You let out a shaky exhale, tears brimming in your eyes with your lips pursing. The man frowned, shaking his head slightly as he asked, “So, why the fuck are you protecting her?”

Your lips wobbled, eyes flickering shut with your hands clenching. Breaths began to be choked up as you shook your head. Letting out a quiet cry at the thought of the auburn-haired girl. The girl that saved you from Clickers on a patrol run. The girl that had promised to keep you safe and one day, have a family with you.

Where was that now?

Where was she?

Hadn’t you risked enough coming out here with her and Dina? You lied to your father and left Jackson, your home. You’d given every waking moment of your time to this girl for the past 5 years, and this was how you were repaid. Being tortured for actions that you hadn’t condoned or acted upon. All you wanted was to keep her safe, but she must’ve not wanted the same as you.

With tear-soaked cheeks, you lifted your chin and shook your head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” you wept. “I came here alone and sought out Abby for killing-”

Your scream was muffled by the door that was dividing Abby from you. Her face scrunched up in aggravation. How could you be so loyal to someone who left you for dead? She couldn’t wrap her head around it because you shouldn’t be putting yourself in your girlfriend's place. Issac had promised Abby that he would allow you to rest before eventually sending you on your way, but that had been if you would tell the truth. Yet, you were putting up a useless fight for someone who wasn’t coming to save you.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as Issac coursed the knife down your forearm. Red breaching through the crack of your flesh and staining your pale flesh. Body trembling in the hot restraints of the rope that strained against your clenching limbs. Feeling the mounting pain to fizzle to a gentle stream of stinging when Issac pulled the blade from your flesh. Sitting back in his chair to take in your dishevelled and broken figure. From his doing, cuts were inflicted along your arms, legs, and one along your cheek. The blood slithered down your skin and sunk into your clothes. Hair astray from his hands that grabbed locks when he cut your face. And your eyes were bloodshot from the tears that never seized to fall.

“I came here alone,” you said through sobs. “I sought out Abby for killing my mentor.”

Issac sighed, shaking his head in slight astonishment. “You’re resilient, I’ll give ya that.” He rose from his seat, water bottle in hand. “Fighting for someone that isn’t coming to save you. It takes guts and I respect that. Really, I do. But I wonder how long it’ll take until you realize that your girlfriend left you behind- No, keep your eyes open.” The man tapped your cheek, forcing your head up. Finding your eyes hollow of emotion as you stared back at him.

“She isn’t coming to save you, Y/n,” he said quietly. “Whatever you thought of your girlfriend was a lie and you need to realize that before you die for someone who didn’t give a shit about you.” Crouching down in front of you, the man took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “If you tell me the truth, I can guarantee you that your girlfriend will be brought to justice. I’ll make my men go out and find her. From there, you can do as you wish. Kill her, torture her- I don’t care. But I need the truth, Y/n.”

In a drowsy state, you managed to keep eye contact with the man. Licking your dry lips as you swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m from Jackson. I came here alone and sought out Abby for killing my mentor.”

All the man could do was stare at you, shell-shocked. You choked on your breaths, keeping the man’s gaze. A knock at the door grabbed your guys’ attention, seeing the door slightly open with Abby stepping inside. Her eyes focused on your dishevelled and broken form that was barely holding up. Eyes glossed over with tears as you broke the eye contact, bowing your head.

“I’m in the middle of something, Abby,” Issac grumbled. “Whatever you have to say is going to have to wait.”

“Issac, we both know she is going to keep this up until you kill her,” Abby protested. “If you aren’t going to do it, then let her recover. This isn’t getting us anywhere in finding her girlfriend.”

The man stared at you, taking in his soldier's words for a moment. Standing to his feet, placed the knife down on the chair and looked at Abby. “Keep her awake and give her this.” Placing the bottle in the girl’s hands, he walked out without another word. Leaving Abby to hold onto the bottle and stare at your figure that could be mistaken for dead if it wasn’t for your rising chest.

It was sad, honestly. How you could still hold love for someone that left you for dead was astonishing to Abby. Of course, she didn’t know your life story and she didn’t know shit about what you and your girlfriend had been through. But what she did know is that you weren’t made for this. You had skills that people dreamed of having, yet, you were out here hunting her for reasons that you may relate with, still didn’t change the fact that you weren’t built for surviving in the wild.

Walking over, Abby moved the knife, placing it in her lap as she sat down. Twisting the cap as she said, “Have some water.” You didn’t respond and you didn’t move. “Y/n, look at me.”

Still nothing. So, with a gentle hand, Abby grabbed your jaw and lifted your head. Finding your eyes heavy with exhaustion. Standing to her feet, Abby placed her thumb on your bottom lip and gently parted your lips. Realizing what she was doing, you willingly opened your mouth, allowing her to slowly pour the refreshing drink into your mouth.

Although she was your enemy, her touch was warm and soft. Treating you like a fragile ornament that could break with the faintest amount of squeeze. She cared. Her eyes watched you softly with the faintest hint of darkness that you couldn’t distinguish. She was worried. It was all that you had hoped to find from Ellie right about now, but you were receiving it from the woman you had been told was a monster. A woman who killed a man you deeply cared about. Who was she, truly?

Greedily drinking all of the water, Abby pulled away, placing the bottle on the floor. Taking a seat, Abby leaned back in the chair, eyes intently taking in your sorrowful expression. “I can’t understand you.” Her words made you raise your bloodshot eyes to her in question. Abby groaned, leaning her elbows onto her knees, closing the space between the two of you a little more. “How can you still love her after what she did to you?”

You bit your bottom lip, breaking eye contact and looking down at your legs. The steady ache from the stab wound had numbed to a point as long as you didn’t move the limb, you could forget it. But you couldn’t forget the wound so freshly cut into your mind. One that seemed to come up every single time Issac questioned you about your reason for being in Seattle.

“She changed me,” you finally answered, breaking the silence. “It’s something I can’t repay, but I thought… I thought that if I did everything to save her from trouble, maybe it would be enough.” You chewed on your bottom lip, shaking your head in thought. “I just can’t believe she would leave me behind. I can’t.”

Sniffling, you looked up at Abby. “That doesn’t make me foolish, okay?” You defended. “Ellie won’t leave me. She loves me. She loves me more than killing you, alright?” Exhaling deeply, you shook your head. “So, please. Just… Just let me go. I’ll convince her to go back and we’ll leave. She needs to know I’m ok.”

Abby stared at you sadly, pursing her lips at your denial. It was hard to hear that you, so pure of heart, wanting to do everything you could to support someone, were so clueless to signs of your fate. Ellie wouldn’t stop. You and Abby knew that. But you were too caught up in love to realize the pain you were trying to protect yourself from. Bargaining for something that wouldn’t come true.

Then it popped into her head, why would someone hurt you this bad? Or, how could someone hurt you this bad? It was damn near soulless the way Ellie had been able to inflict this much pain in one action in seconds. No verbal response, just a single action.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” Abby whispered, piquing your interest. “I’m sorry for what I took from you.”

You frowned, staring at the girl in question. “What do you mean?”

“Joel,” she answered, making your expression lower into sadness. Abby ran a hand down her face, shifting forward slightly. “If I didn’t do what I did, maybe things would be better for you. You wouldn’t be here and dealing with what you’re dealing with.”

A faint tremble of your lips could be seen as you glanced up at her for a split moment before looking down. Letting out a shaky sigh and blinking away the fresh set of tears that were brewing in your eyes. Inhaling sharply as you bit the inside of your cheek. “Why did you do it, Abby?” You inquired quietly, looking up at the girl. Finding her expression shifted into one of regret as you shifted in your seat. “Abby, he was my mentor, a friend, the last person I got to call my father. He was one of the only people I had left, and you took him from me. So, please, I need to know why you took him from me if I can trust you.”

Abby let out a shaky breath. Hands clasping together as her lips parted. A fumbling of a sentence formed in her mind before she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Joel killed my father in Salt Lake,” she confessed. “I never got over it. I gathered information and searched for answers that could tell me where he was. So, when I found out he was in Jackson, I hunted him down with my group, and I killed him.”

Her confession left the room in a cold stillness as she waited for your response. So, she continued. “I hated him so much for what he took from me,” she muttered. “Finding my dad stabbed in the throat, having no chance to say goodbye or to give him a hug. Joel took that from me and I took that from you, and I’m so fucking sorry.”

Looking up, she found you staring down at her empathetically. “I’m sorry for your loss, Abby.” That was the last response she thought to receive. She’d taken so much from you, yet, you still had a softness in your heart that wasn’t afraid of being given out. “We’ve dealt with enough pain and I don’t want anymore. I just wanna go home with Ellie and be happy, you know?”

Falling to a knee, Abby grabbed your hands and held them softly. “You gotta listen to me, Y/n,” Abby said. “Ellie, she left you behind. As much as I don’t want to agree with Issac on this, he is right. If she loved you, she would’ve done anything to keep you safe and alive.”

A hard pill to swallow, that statement was. It felt like the imaginary knife Ellie had stabbed into was twisting further and further into your heart. Stealing whatever love that you had left for the girl and using it for her own personal gain. Because, in the end, that was the whole point of you coming. Getting guilt-tripped into seeking revenge for a man that only wanted the best for you. You didn’t even get to mourn his loss. You were just thrust into this quest that you wanted no part of. But your love for Ellie was something you couldn’t extinguish. It burned brighter than any flame imaginable.

And she used it against you.

Burning your heart and leaving a permanent scar that reminded you of how your trust could be twisted and forced against you in a selfish act.

“We were travelling with another woman- Dina,” you said out of the blue, making Abby frown. “I don’t know where they’re staying, but we were on our way looking for somewhere to set up camp until we found you.” Inhaling deeply, you closed your eyes. “She has a revolver, a Baretta, and a hunting rifle. Dina is pregnant, so if you go looking for them, don’t hurt her, please-”

“Y/n, you don’t have to tell me this if you don’t want to.” Abby surprisingly placed a hand on your cheek. Her warmth and comfort were enough for you to lean into the touch. The cold pinch of your tears covered her palms as you opened your eyes.

Pursing your lips, a thin-lipped smile appeared as you shrugged. “What else do I gotta lose?”

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