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dragonnarrative-writes · 9 months ago

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Transferrable Skills Part 1

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

Your therapist warned you about superstitious thinking. You've been working on it. In fact, you've been very good at catching it, challenging yourself to relax, and letting things go. Even before this big work trip, you consciously avoided the "unhelpful" rituals and reminded yourself that the little ones were just to make you feel secure, not to actually influence the future across an ocean.

"I'm very nervous," you had told Señor Snuggly two weeks ago. Your worn out stuffed lizard hadn't said anything back, of course. "That's normal, because it’s an international flight. So I'm going to give you a hug good-bye, and you're gonna stay here to watch the house. I know it's not going to change anything, but I'll feel better knowing you're here."

At the airport, you realized that you had forgotten your toothbrush. It had satisfied the part of your brain that was looking for one (1) thing to go wrong. Superstitious thinking, but the kind that helped you to relax and listen to music until you boarded.

Now, forced to sit on the floor, surrounded by shouting men with guns, your brain is stuck on your lopsided stuffed animal and blue toothbrush. Of all the things that could pop into your head, why those?

You almost let out a nervous giggle at the mental image of Señor Snuggly using your toothbrush as a shiv to save the day. And then the idea of what would happen if you started laughing right now almost startles you into another burst of giggles. You clap your hands over your mouth and curl into yourself a little bit more.

Next to you, your boss throws you a sympathetic look. "You okay?"

"No talking!" The nearest assailant yells in heavily accented English. You're pretty sure the attackers have been speaking Russian, but you could be mistaken. He brandishes his gun. "You want to die?"

"She needs to go to the restroom," your boss answers.

"No, I don't," you protest. You really, really do, and have for the last two hours. But being escorted out of the room alone seems like enough of a Bad Idea that your bladder can wait.

"No, she does not," the man confirms. "Shut up. Do not talk."

You meet your boss's eyes and try to silently convey, Why are you trying to get me killed?

His doughy face says back, I am a white man who goes to the gym once a week, and I really like the John Wick movies. I have delusions of being a hero. If one man takes you to the bathroom I have the mistaken belief that I can overpower two men with guns to save everyone. Also you're a black woman, so don't you have super powers? I believe in you, queen.

You may be projecting.

Ten minutes later, just as you're wondering if you should suggest a group field trip down the hall to the bathrooms, a series of gunshots rings through the building. The energy in the room goes from nervous to frantic in an instant. Your bladder shuts up. The Russian men start shouting and waving their guns, apparently too agitated to speak English. Two hostages start crying because no one else speaks Russian, just English, French and your half-forgotten, informal, Mexican Spanish.

Another three Russians come bursting in the room, snarling something you can’t understand. They grab at a couple of people, force them to stand at gunpoint and gesture to the rest of you. And then everyone is up and kind of moving in the direction of the door. But you can’t get out of the door because they’re blocking it, but they’re really agitated that the room is still full of hostages. And then some people are being pushed back down to the floor. Your boss ends up sitting back down again. A hard hand closes on your arm before you can get down, and you and four others are dragged out.

The leader says, “You all are dignitaries, yes? Your embassies will send money or they will watch you die.”

This is, potentially, the worst possible scenario. None of the five of you are even remotely important, let alone dignitaries. You’re not 100% sure about most of the others, but you’re an aid. An aid to an aid, really. The blonde woman with the remarkably sharp bob is a personal assistant. Today’s conference was about health data management, of all things.

You decide you’re not going to die with a full bladder. You look to the man holding your arm in an iron grip and point to the upcoming door on the right. “Can I please go to the restroom? I’ll be quick.”

He asks the leader something in Russian, and then you’re being shoved through the bathroom door. He doesn’t follow you into the stall, but it’s still so awkward to pee knowing that there’s a man with a gun waiting for you. You’re so glad you aren’t on your period - opening the wrapper on anything right now would feel louder than it has since middle school.

The door to the restroom opens just as the toilet finishes flushing. You hear a scuffle, an aborted shout, and then something heavy hits the floor. You freeze, heart racing. But then there’s no more sound.

You wait for what feels like an hour but must only be a minute before calling, “H-hello?”

You don’t get an answer. Unlocking the door and easing it open, you peek out and stifle a gasp. The man who had escorted you is on the ground, a pool of blood growing around him. His gun is gone.

You’re halfway through washing your hands before you realize you’re on autopilot.

It takes everything in you to fight down the urge to freeze in place and make yourself inch around the body to the door. When you poke your head out, the hall looks so normal that it makes you dizzy for a second. You try to decide what to do through the anxiety fog. You can’t hide in the bathroom with a dead body, and you probably can’t go back to the big room with everyone without getting shot. You have no idea where the other faux-dignitaries were taken. Apparently, there’s at least one person going around killing people in bathrooms.

You try to think of what your therapist would say in this situation. All of the options feel bad, she would say. So you can’t not do anything because it feels bad. Thank the anxiety for trying to keep you safe, then try to pick the least awful course of action.

“Fight, flight, freeze, fawn,” you whisper to yourself. Fighting is right out. “Flight, freeze, fawn.” There’s a body pouring blood right behind you. “Flight, fawn.” No one is around to appease. “Flight.”

Another gunshot and shouting. It sounds like it’s coming from the left, so you head right.

You shuck off your sensible kitten heels and fervently wish your otherwise sensible pantsuit wasn’t pastel purple in this very beige hallway. Not that a thicker-than-European-average black woman mincing around in a Swiss hotel and conference center would be inconspicuous in a black suit, your mind counters itself. You try to force your brain to shut up, with mixed success.

You wander a good five minutes, reminding yourself not to panic at every locked door you try. The halls are so quiet that you half convince yourself that you’ve gotten out of immediate danger. So of course, right as you’re about the round the next corner, one of the Russians appears, reeling backwards. And then he collapses, a knife sticking out of his neck.

You can’t really worry about that, though, because right after him comes one of the largest men you’ve ever seen. He must catch sight of you out of the corner of his eye, because his head snaps to look at you. You barely register the assault rifle in his hands because his eyes bore into you through the top half of a human skull.

Oh, I’m glad I already peed, you think, staring into the eyes of Death.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” the man says, growls really. “What are you doing here?”

“I… bathroom? Please don’t kill me. I’ll cooperate.” you squeak out. Oh, fawning! Cool.

“Price, I’ve got one of the hostages,” he says, nonsensically. “I’ve cleared the east wing.”

You jump when his walkie-talkie - of course it’s a walkie-talkie - squawks back an “Affirmative. Status?”

“She’s up and walking,” the man says, not taking his eyes from yours. “Seems uninjured.”

“Stow her somewhere safe.”

“Negative,” Death says. Before you can panic because what the fuck does that mean? he says, “Bringing her back with me.”

“Copy.”

When he takes a step toward you, you stop breathing. Everything in you is screaming RUN and DON’T MOVE at the same time. His second step in your direction results in a full body twitch. You get the impression that the gun is pointed at the ground, but the only thing you can really see is bone white over a black mask and what might be really pretty brown eyes, but the shadow from the overhead light really makes it hard to tell and your vision is going a bit darkaroundtheedgesandohI’mstillnotbreathingthat’snotgreat.

You’re shocked into gasping when a gloved palm touches the side of your face. The rough material helps you settle into your body, just in time to start hyperventilating.

And that’s when things get weird, because Death says, “Easy, lovie. Settle, f’ me, yeah? Deep breaths, like we’ve practiced.”

Your brain latches on to the familiar command to settle before you can even question why it’s familiar. The way the man makes a long, low shushing noise makes you so suddenly weak in the knees that you stagger where you stand.

And then it clicks. Holy shit. You know this voice. You know these commands. You’ve been listening to and learning them at least once a week for the last six months. He doesn’t even sound that different from over the phone or on a video call.

“There you go, that’s good,” Simon, the dominant you’ve been seeing online, tells you through his skull mask. “Keep breathin’. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

It’s the second time in your life you’ve been surprised out of a panic attack. “W-what the fuck? Si?” you gasp. “What are you doing here? Did you kill that guy?”

“Questions are gonna have to wait,” he says. “Keep breathing. In for four, hold for two. In for two, out for eight. Can you do that?”

“Why are you in Switzerland?”

“Breathe,” he rumbles. “Settle.”

“No,” you hiss, even as your shoulders relax another fraction. The corners of your eyes start prickling with tears.

“This is a double red light situation,” Si says, staring into your eyes. “I know you’re scared, but I’m going to get you out of here. You trust me?”

“You are wearing a skull on your face.”

“And you’re wearing a purple suit,” he answers. “There are people who want to shoot both of us. You get one more outburst, then you’re breathing and following me. Acknowledge.”

What the fuck? “This isn’t a scene!”

His eyes bore into yours. “Might surprise you, but I’m aware. Acknowledge.”

A distant shout makes you flinch. You relent. “Acknowledged. Four in, hold two, two in, out eight. Follow.”

“Good girl,” he says, patting your cheek once. “Stay behind me.”

#dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #transferrable skills #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #kink fics #this turned out so much more humorous than i expected and is so much fun to write #manic pixie dream ghost

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leaderwon · 2 months ago

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HATE THAT...

chapter 55 — comforting unknown

Synopsis :- In a world where lovers are destined and written by fate, You hated the idea of a soulmate, or maybe you just hated him. Jake wanted a soulmate, a lover to be with for the rest of eternity. Just not you. Not wanting eachother, the both of you occupy yourself with someone else. But the universe had other plans.

luna's diary : my struggle to write this was actually real.

wc : 1.4k

prev — masterlist — next

The morning sun filters weakly through your curtains, casting pale streaks across your room. You sit up slowly, the weight in your chest settling in as reality seeps back in. Today is the day. The parent-teacher meeting where everything about Iseul’s harassment will be laid bare. You’ve waited for this moment, for the truth to come out—but it doesn’t stop the nerves twisting in your stomach.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, staring blankly at the floor. A part of you is scared, anxious. The thought of everyone’s eyes on you, watching as you share those screenshots and messages, is enough to make you second-guess everything. But you remind yourself that this is necessary. After all the hurt, the lies, and the silence, the truth has to come out. You’ve been carrying this weight alone for too long.

You pull on your clothes, trying to shake off the lingering dread, and head out, bracing yourself as you make your way across campus. When you reach the meeting hall, a small group is already gathered: professors, administrators, and some students. The tension in the air is thick, and every glance in your direction feels loaded with curiosity and judgment. You glance over at your friends—Yunjin, Ningning, Huening Kai, Shotaro, and Jake—all of whom had sided with Iseul at first. They stand together, casting hesitant glances your way. You can’t ignore the sting of betrayal, even if they’re here now.

As the room quiets, you step forward, clearing your throat to get everyone’s attention. “Thank you all for being here,” you start, surprised at how steady your voice sounds. “I’ve stayed silent for a long time about what’s been happening. I kept thinking if I just ignored it, it would stop. But I was wrong. It only got worse.” You pause, glancing at the floor, gathering the courage to go on. “Iseul has been harassing me for months. I didn’t tell anyone because I was afraid no one would believe me. And when I finally tried to speak up, I was… shut down.” Your eyes drift to your friends, the words hanging between you.

The professors exchange glances, visibly surprised, but they don’t interrupt. Taking a deep breath, you continue, “Iseul spread rumors, twisted my words, and turned people against me. But today, I want to show everyone the truth.” With a shaky hand, you pull the pendrive from your pocket and pass it to the professor.

The lights dim as the video begins, displaying messages that no one can deny. Line by line, the reality of Iseul’s cruelty unfolds, each message colder than the last. The accusations, the threats, the venomous lies—it’s all there, undeniable and raw.

It’s undeniable. Every line is clear, every timestamp visible. A few gasps echo through the room as people realize the extent of what’s been said, the cruelty laced into every sentence. You watch Iseul’s parents stiffen, shock and embarrassment written across their faces as they look at their daughter, who now sits slouched in her chair, her face a mask of horror and shame. She’s no longer the untouchable, invincible presence she used to be—now, she looks small, exposed.

You glance over at Jake. He’s not looking at the screen; instead, he’s staring down at his hands, fingers fidgeting nervously. He hadn’t known the full extent of Iseul’s messages either, and you can see the regret etched across his face. His loyalty to Iseul had faltered once he learned the truth, but that realization had come too late. You’re grateful he’s no longer blinded by her lies, but the damage had been done. You’d faced the brunt of her words alone, while the people you thought would stand by you chose to believe the worst.

Iseul’s parents sit in stunned silence, their expressions shifting from disbelief to anger. Her father rises first, his voice low but sharp. “How could you do this?” he demands, while her mother’s face twists with disappointment. A harsh slap rings out as her mother’s hand meets Iseul’s cheek, leaving her momentarily stunned, a flicker of panic crossing her face.

Scrambling to regain control, Iseul’s eyes dart to Jake. She steps closer to him, her voice barely a whisper. “Jake, you know me,” she pleads, her hands reaching out in desperation. “You know I’d never do something like this, right?” But Jake’s gaze is cold, his jaw clenched. He takes a step back, shaking his head. “I didn’t think you could…but I guess I was wrong,” he says, his voice laced with regret.

Before she can argue further, the principal steps forward, breaking the tension with a formal announcement. “Iseul, effective immediately, you are suspended pending further disciplinary action,” he declares, the words final and unyielding. Iseul’s shoulders slump, the fight draining out of her as her parents usher her out of the room.

As the last of the crowd disperses, a weight lifts from your shoulders, replaced by a quiet, unfamiliar sense of relief. You breathe deeply, letting the air fill your lungs fully for the first time in months. It’s over. The lies, the manipulation, the endless, gnawing dread—they’re all over.

A burst of laughter and cheers interrupts your thoughts as Yunjin, Ningning, Huening Kai, and Shotaro approach, their faces lit with excitement. Ningning reaches for your hand, squeezing it with a warm smile. "You did it, Y/N. Finally." There’s genuine happiness in their voices, but beneath it, a tension lingers—an unspoken weight that reminds you of everything that’s happened between you.

You manage a small smile, feeling the tightness in your chest ease, but before long, you turn to leave. Just as you reach the door, Yunjin steps in front of you, blocking your path. “Hey, don’t go yet,” she says softly. “Let’s stay together, hang out for a while.”

For a moment, you’re tempted. It would be easy to go back, to slip into that comfort again. But then you remember all the times they doubted you, the way they chose Iseul’s words over yours without question. The sting of betrayal returns, sharp and undeniable. You shake your head, trying to keep your voice steady. “I can’t, Yunjin. I know you’re sorry, but it doesn’t change what happened. All of this…it damaged our friendship. I don’t think we can go back to how it was before.”

Yunjin’s face falls, and a quiet disappointment shadows her eyes, but she steps aside, allowing you to leave. As you step out, the quiet hallway stretches before you, offering a fragile sense of peace—until you hear footsteps behind you. Turning, you find Jake, hands shoved into his pockets, his gaze filled with regret.

“Y/N, please,” he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can we just…try again? I made a mistake. I should have listened to you, I know that now.” You swallow, your heart aching as you meet his gaze. “Jake, I don’t think I can. Not after everything. This isn’t the first time. You hurt me when you believed Iseul over me—and that’s not something I can just forget.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but no words come. Instead, he looks at you with a desperate, pleading expression. “I know I’ve hurt you. I was wrong, I admit it. But I want to make it up to you. Please, give me a chance.”

You sigh, feeling the sadness settle over you. His apology doesn’t change the scars he left. “I’m sorry, Jake,” you say softly. “But I don’t think anything can fix this.”

With that, you turn away, leaving him standing there in the hallway as you walk forward, finally free from the weight of Iseul’s lies—and from the ties that once held you back.

As you step outside, the cool breeze hits your face, carrying away the remnants of the day’s tension. For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel light—unburdened by secrets, unchained from betrayal. There’s an ache in your chest where the closeness with your friends used to be, but somehow, that emptiness feels freeing. The road ahead is uncertain, but it’s yours alone, and right now, that’s all you need. With a final glance back, you let go of everything holding you down and walk forward into the quiet, comforting unknown.

TAGLIST (open!send an ask to be added) : @fertilizedtoesw @ynsvnte @jaeyunluvr @liinori @n1k1mura @syzavxy @alex-is-sleeping @hoondiors @baevsxii @rikimylove @enhaslxt @erehkinnie30 @desistay @ifuckedheeseung @haechansbbg @sumzysworld @simjyunnie @cha0thicpisces @noobgod1269 @sol3chu @potatosoulp1h @welovechaes @firstclassjaylee @miniature-tragedy @beommii @jiyechoi @dimplewonie @feeling-woozi @jjunie-0 @butterfliesinthenightsky @jindoriyam @iheartjayke @minthoons @dreamiestay @layla240 @heeseungismymanz @suneng @vixensss @woorcve @hyunjinheartbreakprince @blujk @electrobutterfly @dismaldiary @melancholy-z @missychief1404 @lhspeachie @grassbutneo @roryirl @heeheesang

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joeybsversion · 11 months ago

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Contract

Joe Burrow x Reader

Joe and reader sign a dating contract

“Should I even ask how you got in here?” You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Did you read this yet?” Joe hands a stack of papers to you.

“I saw it in my dressing room.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” He forces the papers towards you again.

“What is this?” You look up at him.

“Our dating contract.”

“Why is it pink?”

He rolls his eyes, “Someone left it in the copy machine and I didn’t know how to change it.”

Your contagious laughter fills the room. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?” You take the paper from his hands.

“Publicity.” He says, almost as if he’s asking a question. “Both of our managers agreed. It’ll be a good story line for the NFL, especially as I head into the play offs.”

“And I’ll benefit how?” You ask, flipping through the pages.

“Don’t you have a movie coming out or something?” He furrows his brows.

“No I live on this set full time.” You roll your eyes at his stupidity.

“They said it’ll bring more attention to you and the movie I guess.” He nervously paces across the room. “Can you just sign it so I can get out of here?”

“I’ll think about it.” You say with a smirk.

A few hours later your cuddled up on the couch with a glass of wine after a long day on set. The constant buzz from your phone pulls your attention ration away from the TV screen in front of you.

“What do you need?” Your voice is rough as you answer the phone.

“Did you check your schedule? We have another fake date planned for tonight.”

“A fake date.” Your lips curl at the idea.

“Correct. Party to celebrate making it to the play offs.” The line is quiet for a minute. “I’ll be there in 20 minutes to get you.”

“See you soon, babe.” You tease. If you’re going to be a fake couple, you better act like it.

“Wow.” Joe says as you climb into his car.

For the first time, you don’t sense a tone of disgust in his voice. “Not so bad yourself.” You pull your seatbelt across your lap and admire Joes outfit.

After a silent card ride to the private downtown party, you climb out of the car, cameras flashing and paparazzi yelling in your direction. Joe comes around to your side of the car and wraps an arm around your waste to pull you close. You feel your heart skip a beat and butterflies fill your stomach with a warm sensation. Joe leads you into the restaurant and towards his group of friends.

“You can let go now.” You try to pull away from his grip.

“We have to act like a couple.” He reminds you and pulls you back to him.

“Right.” You flash a fake smile.

Joe makes his rounds, introducing you to the rest of the team. For the first time, you felt like a normal person. People weren’t asking for pictures, or hounding you with questions about your next big role and security wasn’t needed. For the first time in a long time, you forgot you were a celebrity.

Drinks were flowing, the music was loud, and sweaty bodies continued to crash into each other. Taking advantage of the fact that you felt like an average person, you continued to let people bring you drinks.

You could feel Joe’s eyes on you all night. Everyone once in a while he’d come over and check in on you, his hands would find your hips and his eyes would lock on your. “Doing ok?” He brushed his sweaty hair off of his forehead, the curls falling back into place perfectly.

“Yeah. I hate to admit it but I’m having fun. I think I could get use to this.” You press your drink to your lips. “I feel free here.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” He smiled.

Joe really was a good guy. While you weren’t fond of the whole contract situation, you were glad it was him. It could be so much worse.

“Burrow!!” One of Joes teammates calls from across the bar before the handsome quarterback disappears back into the crowd.

You find yourself at the bar again, ordering another drink and slowly swaying to the music before you feel a hand pressed to the small of your back. You turn to meet a handsome, tall man.

“Hi.” You smile, the same butterflies you felt with Joe explode in your stomach again.

“Hey. I’m Sam. One of Burrows teammates.” He places his large hand out and shakes yours.

“Nice to meet you, Sam.” You smile, leaving your hand locked in his.

“So, how’d Joe get so lucky?”

You blush, looking down nervously. “You’re not so bad yourself.” You smile back at Sam.

Sam, much like Joe and the rest of the team, was very easy to talk to. You felt yourself getting lost in his eyes and laughing at all of his jokes.

Across the room, you can feel Joe staring at you. His eyes burning a hole in the back of Sam’s head. His jaw tightened when another silvery pearl of laughter over from the bar. You had been talking to Sam for the past several minutes. Not just talking, you were laughing and giggling like he was a comedian when Joe knew for a fact he wasn’t that damn funny. Irritation raged through his body as Sam leaned closer to you, causing you to laugh again. You’d never laughed that much with him. And he was your fake boyfriend.

Joe tried to pull your attention away from Sam multiple times. Now that you were finally able to relax and feel ‘free’ as you had told him before, you were flirting with Sam Hubbard.

Joe stormed over to you and Sam and practically ran Sam over. Up until this point, Sam had been one of his best friends but now he wanted to rip his hands off for touching you like that. Like you could possibly belong to Sam when you so clearly were dating Joe. Or fake dating that is, Joe thought to himself.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up as Joe stepped in front of him. “Excuse me.” Joe rudely interrupted, “I need a second with her.” He took you by the hand and led you to a quiet corner.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Joe stammered.

“I’m having fun.” You smiled back in Sam’s direction, his eyes were still locked on you. “I’m leaving with a guy at the end of the night.”

“Have you lost your mind?” His eyes go wide. “Do you remember what we’re doing here? You can’t leave with him!”

“You can’t stop me.”

Joe smiles suspiciously, “You’re right, you are leaving with a guy tonight. Me.”

You laughed. “No I’m not!” You slurred.

Joe leaned in close enough that you could taste the alcohol on his breath. “You have two options.” He whispered. “You can walk out of hand in hand with me, like an adult.” His leaned in closer if that was even possible, you could feel his lips as they whispered against yours. “Or I can carry you out of here over my shoulder. What will it be babe?” Your eyes meet his as he finally closes the gap between both of you.

Complying with his order, you take Joe by the hand, say your goodbyes, and leave the party. Outside you’re met by another crowd of rowdy photographers and fans.

“Stay close.” Joe leads you through the crowd.

As both of you had been drinking and were unable to drive, Joe ordered a car to pick you up. You climbed in quickly behind him, climbing into his lap and clinging to him as if he was your only sense of security.

“I know this is supposed to be fake, but I’ve been having a lot of fun with you. And it makes me so jealous to see having fun with other guys.” Joe slurs, his grip tightening around you. “I’ll give you anything you want if you give me the chance to make you happy. No more of this fake dating shit. I want you to be my girlfriend. I want to give it a shot with you. Take it or leave it because I’m not open to negotiations. You’re mine.” Joe crashes your lips together again.

“Only you could make asking me to be your girlfriend sound like a business deal.” You giggle.

“Please be my girlfriend.” He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I am.”

“My real girlfriend. No more contract. No more fake dates. No expectation.” He kisses you again. “Be mine.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow one shot #joe burrow smut #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow insta au #joe burrow instagram

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pinievsev · 1 year ago

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FEAR

(as always requests are open and masterlist is pinned)

Pyeon sang-wook x GN! reader

Warnings: mentions of blood and wounds, mentions of death, a tiny kiss at the end.

Notes: thanks to my pooks @il-i-sam for helping me edit this, I wrote this at school and it was really rushed and had grammatical mistakes! You're amazing MWAH MWAH MWAH!

Pyeon sang-wook was always a man of few words and actions. He always believed relationships to be unimportant. Especially now.

Sometimes, he didn't want friendships either. He liked being alone, at least most of the time.

There had been times when he'd thought of getting up and joining the others during "dinner" but he was afraid. Afraid of what they saw him as. A monster, a murderer.

So even if he actually wanted a friendship (or more), he didn't have anywhere to start. Well, that's not entirely true. But again, he was afraid. Of what? He wasn't sure either.

But he knew that you'd be his starting point. Though he didn't know how long he had, since he never showed any signs of accepting your silent invitation to a friendship. You'd been there for him since he joined the group, everyone was afraid of him, made remarks about his scars.

But you didn't. You never said anything bad about him, he even heard you defend him once. You'd defended him multiple times. He just happened to have heard you once.

"Oh my god... I can't stand seeing his face. It looks so scary... Who knows what it's from?" The lady with the dog had said.

He'd heard her, but just as he was about to get up and leave, he heard you too.

"With all due respect. You don't know what it's from. And you shouldn't judge. You're a full grown adult woman. And yet you still make assumptions based on someone's appearance." It was what you had said to her.

He left after hearing that. A small smile formed on his face, which he forced down after realising.

Right now it was dinner time, he had stopped eating with everyone a while ago. He didn't mind not eating, but you did. You'd always get him a plate and find him, wherever he was.

He was sitting in the grave room, staring at the ground, when you walked in. You walked over and kneeled down in front of him, handing him his food. You had learned not to try to start a conversation, he wasn't much of a talker. You noticed.

You sat by him, leaving enough space for him to be comfortable. And started to eat.

Imagine your surprise when you heard his voice. Directed towards you. "Why don't you hate me? Like everyone else. I don't need pity."

You shook your head and moved closer. "I don't pity you. I know you can handle yourself. I just cannot stand seeing people be treated in a way they don't deserve. And you don't deserve to be seen as a scary murderer. Even if you don't think that."

He raised a brow at your words, still not looking at you. "I murdered someone. With a hammer right in front of you." He pointed out the obvious.

You turned fully towards him, placing your food down and sitting crisscross. "Most people here are scared of you because they believe the man you killed was innocent."

Now interested in where this was going, he turned his upper body to face you. "And you don't?" He questioned.

"I've lived here since I was little. I remember when he moved in, when my mum sent me to bring him a cake as a welcome gift, and when I found his door open and walked inside that room..." You hoped he'd understand; you hoped he'd seen the room, and you didn't have to explain.

And based on his reaction, he did. His eyes widened—the most obvious showcase of emotions you've ever seen from him.

"I've never run out of a room faster in my life." You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. But he just shook his head.

He was glad someone understood him. You stood up. Stretching. "You should eat." You pointed out before going towards the door, but before you exited, you turned back. "Oh, and if you ever need anyone to talk to, it shouldn't be too hard to find me."

About a week passed, and he did talk to you almost every day. Even though they were just general chats, it felt good for him to be able to talk freely to someone again.

Right now, you sat there, talking about what you did before this whole ordeal.

Well, more like him hearing you talk. But he didn't mind; he loved listening to your stories.

But your talking was cut short by a terrible screech coming from the hall, accompanied by Su Yeong's screaming.

Immediately, you stood up and rushed over, seeing Mr. Han shooting at the spider like monster that was chasing the young girl. You rushed and picked her up. "Come on!"

You shouted to Mr. Han, who followed you as fast as he could in his wheelchair.

You ran down a ramp, but Mr. Han's wheelchair got stuck, and he fell off of it. You placed Su-Yeong down and told her to go into the room where you previously were with Sang-Wook.

She wanted to help Mr. Han, but you assured her that you'd help him, and she rushed off into the room. You heard her crying to Sang-Wook. Asking for his help.

You spun around on your heel and bent down, helping Mr. Han back into his wheelchair. You ushered him inside the room as well. As soon as he entered the room, the monster quickly jumped on you, stabbing one of its legs into your torso.

You screamed out in pain, but you fought back as much as you could. But the pain was unbearable. You were about to pass out, and the last thing you saw was Cha Hyun-Soo coming to your rescue, and you heard Su-Yeong screaming, everyone else gasping, and Sang-Wook calling out to you. Then it all went black.

Once you regained consciousness, you saw Yu-ri sitting next to you, patching you up.

"Oh, you're up. How are you feeling?" She asked as she finished up her work on your wound.

"Could be better. What happened?" She patted your shoulder, told you about how Hyun-Soo had killed the monster, and assured you that everyone was safe.

You let out a sigh of relief, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them again. But you were met with a different face.

Sang-wook was sitting in Yu-ri's place, and you heard the door close. He looked genuinely worried, which made you smile and sit up. With his help, you managed to rest your back on the wall behind you.

"What were you thinking, huh? You could've died." He didn't sound angry at all. You simply placed a hand on his arm and answered.

"I could have, yes. But I would've been fine with it as long as Su-Yeong and Mr. Han didn't." He groaned at your response and sat next to you on the makeshift bed. Placing his hands on either side of you.

"You might have been okay with it. But I wouldn't." You went to speak, but he hushed you. "Listen to me. Never do something that stupid again."

You smirked and leaned closer. "And why do you care?" He scowled at you slightly. And without a verbal answer, he placed his lips on yours.

You were taken aback; you didn't expect it at all. But you weren't complaining. You've been spending a lot of time together. You would be lying if you said you hadn't developed some kind of feeling for the man.

"Is that a good enough reason for me to care?" He asked. He didn't have his usual cold and emotionless demeanour this time. He looked genuinely concerned, worried, and happy at the same time.

"It is." You said, and hugged the man.

This was an outcome you wouldn't have expected at all. Not the bad kind, though.

#sweet home netflix #pyeon sangwook x reader #pyeon sang wook #sang wook x reader #sweet home imagines #sweet home x reader #sweet home

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hyuuukais · 2 months ago

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⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS

pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader

synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.

warnings ▪︎ general, amputation, slight inappropriate touching on reader nearing end, yn and another character get into an argument where her insecurities are used against her harshly

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER FIVE ▪︎ LET ME BE OKAY AGAIN (8.4k)

Infected fill the emergency wing, still in place with twitching bodies and emitting low groans and cries. A lot of them have their heads hanging down, swaying slightly with light jolts upward. They don't appear to be aware of their surroundings, not even sparing a glance at the door as it opens. Some lie in emergency beds, every single one full, their bodies sticking to the beds unmoving. Dark veins creep up their necks and arms, any limb visible to the eye; you assume they've been here since the outbreak, so far gone they're dormant. Sneaking though should be easy enough, that is, as long as you're able to maneuver through the narrow passages their bodies create.

"Everyone knows the drill. Stay low, stay quiet, and stick together." Chan looks everyone over. "Seungmin, you stay here. With your leg, you won't be able to move as fast."

"I'll be fine-"

"No, he's right," Felix cuts him off. "A wound that fresh could get infected easily. Maybe you can stay and help Jisung and Chaerry get in?"

Seungmin grumbles but agrees to stay behind, moving to an area with better cover in case soldiers or infected come stumbling around. Following Chan, you move in. Glass crunches underneath your feet and you pause, but no one is alerted. The infected closest to you makes a kind of whine, high-pitched and long. You keep going and its hand brushes against your shoulder lightly. Fingers slide over the back of your neck, but drop moments later, and you can breath again. You can't imagine how lonely it must be.

As you move past the beds, you can see better now how the infected are hooked up to IVs, syringes and bandages making a mess all over the floor. You notice some of the infected are doctors and nurses as well as patients, their blue scrubs torn and dirty from both caring for the hungry patients and from turning themselves. In front of you, Hyunjin slips on a long, plastic tube, barely catching himself before he tumbles directly into the legs of an infected and you can't breathe until he gains his balance. He looks back at you, your own eyes wide as he gives you a thumbs up.

A thumbs up? Really? You think. I will cut your hand off.

Continuing through the bodies, thoroughly disturbed by the scenery, you reach what looks like a waiting room. Similar to the beds, there are infected sitting very still, too still, in the chairs, every one of them occupied. With the eerie silence, it's hard to imagine how busy this hospital must have been during the outbreak. Behind the desk is a zombie dressed in scrubs so bloody, you can't tell what the original colour was intended to be, a large bite mark on her neck and left hip. Her hands are still resting on the keyboard in front of her, fingernails crusted with the same blood that decorates her body. You're starting to lose hope of ever finding these people.

Chan gestures you close. "Look up."

There's a sign above with an arrow; OPERATING ROOMS. You look around at the others, all of them either looking up too or nodding as you make eye contact. As you begin to crawl in that direction, something sharp pierces through your hand and you bite back a yelp. A long needle sticks out of the back of your hand, spurting blood from the end, the warm liquid dripping down your wrist from the hole.

"Breathe," Jeongin whispers. "In, out. In-" He pulls it from your hand and you wince. "-out. In, out."

You try to control your breathing as he takes his medical pouch out again, a sliver of his stomach revealed as he does so. Taking out a small bottle of alcohol, he continues to instruct you to breathe as he pours it over the wound. Squeezing your eyes shut, your mouth falls open in a gasp and you're barely able to regain your breath pattern. Jeongin wraps bandages around your hand, securing it in place tightly.

The rest of the group has already moved on past the doors you assume lead to the operating rooms, you and Jeongin last to join. All it takes is one misstep and Jeongin has fallen over, grabbing onto a crash cart with no luck. It comes down with him over his body and you're so focused on lifting it off of him, you don't notice the growing cries coming from your right. Chan pops his head through the door, rushing over when he sees the situation. He helps lift the cart, Jeongin letting out a small 'ah', as he shuffles out from underneath.

A zombie comes hurtling into the wall beside you and your neck cracks as your attention is stolen. It jumps at you, but the movement is sluggish and you're able to sidestep out of its way. Jeongin flips onto his back as the zombie is about to fall onto him, grabbing the gun from his side and releasing a shot.

"Fuck." You hear Chan whisper, not that there's reason to now.

The infected are awakening one by one, some moving toward you faster than others. A smaller one that barely comes up to your hip flings itself forward, latching onto your leg and, to your horror, starts to climb up your body. Jeongin takes another shot, piercing it in the temple and it falls to the ground. He scrambles backward pushing open the door Chan came out from.

"C'mon!" He's motioning aggressively to the open door.

"Chan!" You grab his arm, pulling him out of the path of a zombie just in time. "Let's get out of here!"

The three of you scramble through the door, but it swings to the other side allowing the zombies easy access to follow you. Most are still slow from their long slumber, however they're gaining speed rather quickly as you dash down the long hallway, barely pausing to test the open doors. Since Chan came back for you, he's no help in knowing which one the others are behind. The gap between you and the horde is getting smaller and smaller by the minute and soon enough, they're right on you again. Panic swells in your chest as you test the last door, the handle moving but still not opening. Something is keeping the door shut from the other side.

"No! No, please, no!" You cry out, both hands on the doorknob as you push your whole body weight against it again, again, again. "Fucking open!"

Finally, the door opens and you go tumbling through right as several infected reach out for you, eager for a bite. Chan and Jeongin are close behind, guns firing as you push the door closed. You don't register the other bodies moving to push some kind of metal cabinet in front of the door, too distracted by the blood rushing to your head. Someone grabs your arm and you jump, fist flying up to meet their head. They grab you by the wrist seconds before it can connect with their skull, hushing you and soothing you.

"It's just me! Y/n, it's just me." Hyunjin lets go of your wrist, letting it drop to your side limply. "Hey, hey, hey. You with us?"

You hold on to the hand that comes up to cup your face. There's banging on the door, but the cabinet in front is heavy enough to keep the infected out, for now. Hyunjin helps you up carefully.

"I'm here," You say, voice shaking. "I'm here."

Glancing behind Hyunjin, you can see a rusted metal sink lining the wall beside you, and through the window, you see a group of people huddled around a surgical table. "Is that them?"

"Yeah. How lucky are we that they were in the only unlocked room?" Hyunjin shakes his head. "Like you, we had to push through the barrier, but at least with you I recognized your screaming." He pauses, jaw clenching. "Who shot the gun?"

"Jeongin, but don't-" He's already turning to the kid, staring him down.

"Why?" He gets close to his face. "Why did you do that?"

"Sorry, I didn't want my face eaten," Jeongin replies. "Besides, they were already alerted before I shot. The difference is either I took that risk and stayed alive, or I didn't and I'd be lying dead in that hallway, Y/n and Chan probably dead with me."

"How about we don't argue and instead get them talking, yeah?" Chan pushes the two apart, angling his head to the window.

Three people stand around the table with a map and various medical supplies laid out in front of them. You watch them from behind the glass, two women and a man exchanging words and glances, even some laughs. How are they laughing with the danger so close to you? One of the women are in what appears to be a lab coat that's been ripped in half then sewn at the waist to reattach the bottom half, conserving the pockets. Her hair is cut short in a faded pink, the other woman with long, dark locks. Chan nudges your arm and you break your stare, taking one last look at the barred door before walking into the other room.

"We still need to get to the pharmacy though," The pink-haired woman says, her accent similar to Chan's. "The girl's infection will spread if we don't get ahold of those antibiotics and soon. It's the whole reason we're out here!"

"The whole reason we're out here is because you couldn't let some random girl we found in a ditch die because of your own guilt." The man bites. "Leaving her would have meant we'd never be in this mess. You'd still be safely hidden, dead to the world."

"Maybe I'm sick of being dead to the world!" She looks over at you, looks back at the man, looks back at you, and straightens her posture. "Sorry, bad introduction." She laughs awkwardly, sticking a gloved hand out. "Lily."

"Y/n...?" You accept her hand; from in here, you can't hear the banging as well. "What's up?"

"I take it you heard our transmission?" She asks and Chan nods. "Kind of a stupid idea, to be honest, but thanks for coming out to save our asses. Even though, you know, you're stuck with us now, hah. Listen, we still need to get to the pharmacy which is back downstairs, but we have no way through here. Any ideas?"

You take a look around the room, momentarily making eye contact with the other woman, but look away again quickly. Spotting something above you-

"What about the vents?" You suggest, pointing upward.

"The vents-" Hyunjin looks up. "Oh, it's actually kind of big."

"Lift me up." You grab onto his shoulders and he hoists you up, using the momentum to grab onto the vent and pull. Hyunjin lets go of you and you drop with the metal swinging down, his arms catching you as you land back on the ground. "This one goes up and to the left, got anything grippy to put on your hands? It's not a big distance upwards, but if your palms are sweaty you may need it."

Lily offers latex gloves, the only thing available. You move the table over, stepping onto the map of the hospital. A map of the hospital- you look back down, memorizing it as Lily gathers the medical supplies scattered around your feet in your peripheral vision. Standing on the table, you can just barely grip the edge of the inside vent with the tips of your fingers, bending your knees and launching yourself up. Slipping just a bit, you manage to grab on with one hand, swinging your body to grip it with both. Suddenly you're thankful for all the physical training you had to do at the QZ, using your upper body strength to pull yourself up and into the vent. After you shuffle forward on your hands and knees, you hear someone join you, looking back to see Hyunjin climbing in.

"Couldn't let anyone else have this view," He jokes, and you roll your eyes, suppressing a dumb smile.

"Shut up." You mumble.

When you reach another vent grate, you pause to squint through the spaces and see where you are, trying to keep the map in mind the best you can. At one point, you hear voices, looking down to see some familiar faces.

"Your Captain will hear about this, but I'm sure you know that." Officer Song sits behind a desk, contents pushed off to the side. "You'll be in big trouble messing up this badly."

"I already told you, I don't know how they got out. Lucky for me, my Captain trusts me." Minho says through gritted teeth, fists clenched on the arms of the chairs his hands rest on. "How many hours do we have to spend saying the same words different ways?"

Officer Song says nothing in response, but you can imagine the scowl on his face as he gets up and walks behind Minho, stopping a few steps away from the chair he’s in. He glances back, and Minho keeps his head forward like a good soldier.

“I know you two have history,” Officer Song says, looking back to where you assume the door is. “Admit to helping her now, and your punishment won’t be as severe.” Minho stays silent, and Officer Song sighs. “Suit yourself.”

“What’s the holdup?” Hyunjin taps your calf and you jolt.

“Nothing.” You whisper, watching Officer Song step out of view with the door shutting quietly behind him, and continue on.

There’s no point in lingering on a dead conversation. With the map in mind, you take a right turn into a dead end. Underneath is a dark hallway, but you should be close enough to the pharmacy now to sneak through without much risk of detection from soldiers and infected alike. Opening the grate, you drop down carefully, landing with a soft thud. Hyunjin is looking at you from above waiting for a signal to follow after you. You’ve dropped into a long hallway that appears to be unoccupied. It’s dark, no lanterns or candles to light the way like the wings the soldiers are in. Directly in front of you is a supply closet, patient rooms taking up the rest of that side of the hallway; behind you is a bench with a worn backpack sitting on it, an office door down a few feet away.

Lifting a hand over your head, you wave two fingers to let the others know it’s safe to continue. At the end of the corridor there’s a sign directing you to the pharmacy, and you’re there before you know it. It’s small, the glass partition protecting the medication behind the counter somehow still intact. The door beside the counter is locked and Chan takes the lead, pushing against it with his full body. It doesn’t budge. Straining your neck, you can just barely see a filing cabinet pushed down, the heavy drawers keeping the door shut.

“We could break the glass?” You suggest.

“And alert everyone in the vicinity?” Chan looks at you, shaking his head. “We need another way in.”

You cross your arms, eyebrows furrowing in thought. How else can you get in? There’s no other door that you can see, at least, not on this side and-

Glass breaks behind you and you startle, spinning to see Lily moving an arm away from her eyes, an axe in her other hand hovering over the counter. “What?” She brushes the glass away with the sleeve of her coat. “We’ll be in and out in no time, so let’s just hurry and get the stuff we need and leave. Whoever heard that won’t be here that quickly.”

"Where did she even get that...?" Felix mutters, probably to himself, but you agree.

She's climbing over the counter before you can blink and you join her quickly, rummaging through empty bottles to find what you need. Lily runs through a list of what she's looking for, but every bottle you find is either the wrong thing, or there's nothing left. You're starting to lose hope, the others joining you on the other side of the counter and taking the back end.

"I think I found it!" Jeongin calls out, jogging to the front with a few small containers.

"Yes! This is perfect. I'm surprised you found so much." Lily smiles, taking the bottles and slipping them into a pouch hanging on her belt. It reminds you of Han. What the fuck?

"We should go now," You clear your throat, nodding your head to the door. Now that you're on the other side, Chan and Felix work together to lift it up. It's not even all that heavy, but a drawer had gotten jammed under the door handle.

You're about to head down the hall that should lead back to where you came from, able to bypass the group of zombies, when you hear someone call out. "It came from here, sir!"

"Shit." You stick an arm back to halt movement. The voices get closer and the others hear them too now, starting to hurry down the other side of the hall when the beam of a flashlight shines down the connecting hall at the end.

"Where do we go?" Hyunjin whispers harshly. "We're essentially trapped!"

Down one end, there's god knows how many people looking for you, and on the other, you can only see the beams of two flashlights.

"This way would be better, there are fewer people," You tell Chan, grabbing onto his upper arm to get his attention. "Yes, I know, 'you don't know that for sure', but I'm willing to take that chance."

"Okay." Chan says; you find yourself a bit surprised he's taken your advice, again. "Everyone hear that? We go down that way and take them out quickly and quietly. Felix and Hyunjin, I want you both to lead since you're our best in close combat. Y/n, stay close behind with your gun drawn. You're lucky you scored that thing." He gives one last look down the hall where the voices get louder and louder. "This'll bring us back to the side of the operating rooms with that group of infected, so once we get through those doors, run."

As you approach the light, your breathing becomes rapid. The thought of potentially having to harm people you knew now that Minho is in the picture has your mind running a million different scenarios. Although he's outside, the thought that Seungmin may be having a similar stream of thoughts runs through your mind as well, wondering if he's thinking about his old friends in the squad, or if he's moved on enough to be able to do what may be necessary.

"Yeah, so then he fucking yanked me by the leg- oh what the hell? Fr-" Two guns are pointed at your group before you all have your weapons out, causing them to surrender immediately. You know they're thinking they'd rather deal with the consequences of letting a few strangers get away than get themselves killed. "Wait- Y/n?"

One shines her lights out of your eyes and you recognize her. "Yeji?"

"Oh my god, Y/n!" She shoves between Felix and Hyunjin, pulling you into a hug. You give Hyunjin a look to silently tell him it's okay and his fists unclench. "We thought you were dead, me and Yuna. Minho is here, have you seen him?" She looks behind you. "Who are these people?"

"We don't have time-" Lily tries to speak, but is interrupted by shouting down the hall; you've been spotted. Yeji is going to get in big shit if she's seen hugging you, so you push her away hard enough she lands on the ground.

"There! There they are!" A group of about six or seven come around the corner, all advancing on you.

With no time to think, you do as Chan said before and run, heart aching as you hear Yeji call out your name from behind. You don't look back, staring hard at the double doors you're approaching, seeing a blur of movement through one of the windows. You know it's the infected, opting to use the other door as you push through with a force you didn't know you had, the door hitting the wall with a crunch, and the handle getting stuck in the wall. Everything in you wants to turn around and see that everyone else has made it through, but you don't stop running until you hear a shout. Almost to the doors, but someone is in trouble.

One of Lily's crew, the man, has been jumped by an infected, and Chan has stopped to help him. For a moment, time freezes as you watch another infected attack Chan, pushing him onto the ground as the man beside him is getting bitten in the neck, blood flooding out of the wound. There's no chance to save him, no hope for him as his screams of agony are drowned out by the rumbling sounds of other infected and gunfire. You didn't even learn his name. Someone pushes you toward the door, urging you on; Lily.

"No! No, we can't leave him," You plead, seeing Chan struggle to keep the infected's teeth off of him in the back. "I'm not leaving him!"

"Y/n, go!" Hyunjin is beside Chan now, choking the zombie from behind, allowing Chan to roll to the side. Others are catching up and you bring out your gun, shooting any that come near the two. "I've got him- aah, fuck!"

Too focused, you can't see what's caused Hyunjin's cursing, moving closer to help Chan up. The infected drops from Hyunjin's arms and he grabs ahold of you and Chan's shoulders, pushing toward the door aggressively. Light burns your eyes as you exit, already spotting the others in the truck. Outside, Han has parked just a bit further down, closer to the fence he'd have come in by. You jump in the back and help the others in, noticing Jeongin's limp has returned as well as Chan stumbling more after the attack. Infected try to make their way on, but the soldiers who are after you unintentionally help you by shooting them off your truck as Han speeds away. It's bumpy and reckless, but you calm down with every kilometer between your people and that damn place.

"Hyunjin, what- oh, oh no." You look behind you at Felix's words to where he and Hyunjin are leaning against the back windows.

A decent-sized bitemark covers Hyunjin's left forearm, skin torn and bloody; the sight makes your eyes water, barely blinking back the pain as you look up and meet his eyes. As your own travel back up his body to his face, you can see the way he's breathing too heavily, too quickly. You see the way his eyes mimic yours, tears threatening to spill over as he tears them away from the wound and to you. His mouths moves like he wants to say something, but soon his attention is turned to Jeongin undoing his belt at the speed of light.

"Switch sides with me Lix," He orders the older man.

"What are you-" Hyunjin is cut off by the two stumbling over his long legs.

"Hold him back." Jeongin says, just loud enough for Felix, but you catch it too. "Hyunjin don't fight this, please, it'll only make it worse. Y/n?" He nods you over and you obey. "Can you hold this arm out straight? I can't have him moving it."

It finally sets in what's happening, for both you and Hyunjin.

"Jeongin don't fucking do this." Hyunjin tries to move away, but Felix's grip is strong. "Don't do this! Chan?" You almost forgot he was back there with you, but he's in and out of consciousness himself, three large, deep scratches running across his abdomen. "Chan, please, you know they can't do this. You can't do this, I'm begging you. God, I'd rather you let me die-"

"Don't say that." You snap and his attention turns to you again. The look on his face is enough to break your heart.

"Y/n, can I have your knife?" You nod, passing the knife strapped to your leg over to Jeongin. He tightens his belt high on Hyunjin's arm, prepping him as well as he can in the back of a moving truck.

"Y/n, please," Hyunjin begs; you're his last hope. "Stop this. I can't- I can't- fuck! If you love me, if you really love me, you won't let them do this. Just take the blade and make it quick, don't let me suffer. Don't let me turn into one of them."

His words turn hysterical and you watch as he tries to back away, blocked by Felix behind him. Hyunjin's legs kick up in an attempt to get away and the grip you have on his arm grows tighter. You know you're doing this because you care about him, because you want him to survive, and you know he can't see it like that right now. Jeongin presses the blade to his skin, lifts it up, then crashes down with precise force. It only goes halfway and Hyunjin cries out, head rolling back with his eyes squeezed shut.

"Stop... please, stop!" He sobs into Felix, too weak to fight back now as Jeongin goes in for another slice.

This time the limb comes off, becoming limp by his side. Jeongin is quick to bring out a lighter from his medical pouch, cauterizing the end of his arm the best he can at the moment. It's rough work, but it'll have to do. Hyunjin stares in horror as Jeongin tosses the arm over the side of the truck, focused on wrapping his arm and getting to Chan next.

"Hyunjin," You finally speak, scared of his reaction.

Looking up at you, but he's not looking at you. His eyes are unfocused and his mouth hangs open slightly, wet trails down his cheeks dripping down his neck. Sweat shines above his brow, above his mouth. Felix climbs out from behind him, smoothing his hair out of his face, but Hyunjin continues to stare blankly ahead. You can hear Jeongin calling out for Felix, something about getting bleeding under control, but your attention is fully on the man in front of you. He trusted you, and in his eyes? You betrayed him.

"Hyunjin... speak to me," You crawl next to him, holding his face in your hands and turning him to look at you. When your eyes finally meet, his are cold and unforgiving.

"How could you do that?" His voice breaks. "How could you let them do that?"

"It was for the best-" Hyunjin scoffs.

"You should have let me die-"

"No, I already said no. None of us are leaving you behind." Anger builds within you, creeping into your chest and up your throat, hot and wet. "Despite whatever you think."

You can feel the truck slowly coming to a stop; you didn't even realize you were out of the city. Han parked up a long driveway leading to a country home, two stories high with trees lining the front of the yard, hidden from the street. Truck doors open and close, but you're still focused on the man in front of you until someone is trying to tug him away.

"Shit, what happened?" Han nearly shouts as he rounds the truck, eyes darting between his friends. "Someone answer me! What happened in there? Why is he missing and arm and why is Chan... Chan?"

The truck dips under his weight as he stumbles on, panic radiating off him in waves as he grips Chan's shoulders, his face, his arms, wherever he can reach. You see now they've stripped him off his shirt to get to the wound the infected left behind, his shallow breaths clear in the golden sunlight. His eyes are half closed and he tries to speak, but it comes out too quiet; he's lost a lot of blood, it pools around his legs and seeps through the bandages Jeongin and Felix applied.

"Is he gonna make it?" Your voice rings out through the silence that's fallen over the group, wincing when no one answers.

With an arm under his left side, Felix joins Han in taking his right, and they haul Chan out of the truck, bringing him to the porch of the house and setting him down on an old rocking chair. It's only now that you spot Lily and the other girl heading the opposite direction as everyone joins the other three, speed walking down the driveway without looking back. Although you know you should join the others, you jog up to Lily instead. She's the whole reason you're out there, the reason Chan and Hyunjin barely made it out alive. Still no info about Chan's sister, you need to at least try to find something out before they're gone for good.

"You're leaving? With everything that just happened, you're leaving?" You can't help the venom in your voice. "They could have died, and you're leaving? We came out there to help you! You can't even give us the information we want? Who do you think you are?"

The girl with the dark hair turns around mid step, walking backwards and somehow still keeping pace with Lily. "We called for a rescue, not to give up precious info or resources we have. Who do you think you are, demanding that from us when you don't even know us?"

"Lia, please," Lily stops walking, looking at you with something like guilt in her eyes. "What do you want to know?"

"Are you serious?" 'Lia' scoffs. "Either you've turned dumb or don't care anymore-"

"Can you stop it?" Lily asks sharply. "I'm trying to speak. Y/n, listen, I can't say much because I don't want to put everyone else in danger, but there's a town by the coast with a large bunker. You can find us there, okay? You can find the girl there. Take care of your people."

With an awkward wave, she backs away and leaves you staring as they fade into the horizon. Obviously, you can't follow them, you can't leave your people... when did they become your people? Turning around, you see that Hyunjin is still sitting in the back of the vehicle with Han crouched next to him. Admittedly, it's a strange sight seeing them not at each others throats, but to be fair Hyunjin did just get his arm cut off, so. Han helps him up and out of the truck, eyes coming up once, twice, meeting yours as you approach and you freeze. Hyunjin looks at him, questions why they've stopped, follows his gaze to you. The air turns cold around you. All you want is to run up to him, help him, comfort him, but the look on his face makes you shrink away. Before you can even think about saying anything to him, he whispers something in Han's ear and they head toward the house without a second glance.

Later that night once everyone is more or less settled in, you hear Seungmin shouting from downstairs.

You'd been with Chan for the better part of the evening, sitting by his side as he sleeps. Jeongin has already had to redress his bandages once since arriving and you're worried about him making it through the night, the amount of blood leaving his body extremely concerning. Each of you have taken on the role of looking after him, making sure his heart is still beating and his lungs are still breathing. In the case of any emergency, you're to grab the walkie-talkie you stole from the soldiers that now lies on a white, peeling nightstand and inform Jeongin or Felix, whoever has the other end at that moment. You know right now it's Felix, he'd called up to see how you were doing not too long before the sudden disruption.

"What's he going on about?" You ask into the device. "He knows I'm on Chan duty right now, doesn't he?"

It takes a minute for Felix to reply. "Yeah, hold on. I'll take over for you in a minute cause you might wanna take a look at this. You're gonna love it."

This concerns you ever so slightly. What could be so important, or just plain cool apparently, that you need to see it so soon? What do you like that could give Seungmin this reaction? He knows you like to collect charms you come across, something you might find on a necklace, but you know that if he found one he'd wait to give it to you later. Or he'd come in quietly and give it to you now, so what else? Knives? You've retrieved yours from the truck, but they are getting a bit dull now. Really any kind of blade would pique your interest, but in an old country home like this? The only evidence of people having lived here were some worn cookbooks knocked onto the kitchen floor and a few personalized crochet blankets on each bed in the house. You're certain this belonged to an elderly couple, so a hidden weapons stash seems unlikely.

"That leaves..." You think for a moment. "Pencils and paper, a guitar, photos of animals in hats... wow, I really didn't get out much in the QZ, huh?"

You laugh at your little joke and lack of real, actual interests. Growing up mostly in the quarantine zone had limited what you could discover, leaving you to mostly occupy yourself with studying, working out, or drawing. Minho had started to bring you little trinkets once he started venturing out, things he thought you might like, that's where the charm thing had started. He always had one of a paw print around his neck and you always wondered where it had came from, asking him all the time, but he never answered, always brushing it off. One day you had asked him if he'd ever be able to help you make your own, even if you didn't know how to, and two days later he came home with one he'd found while clearing out a town on a nearby outpost. Your fingers come up to the chain around your neck, finding the small star shaped piece of silver.

"Y/n?" Felix brings you out of your thoughts. "He's in the basement."

"God, what did he find down there?" You ask no one in particular, rubbing your forehead. "Thanks Lix."

You freeze as you pass him, never having used that nickname with him before. In face, you haven't used a nickname with anyone, not including Han. Even Chaeryeong you only called Chaeryeong, never Chae or Chaerry, like most the others do.

"Lix... I like that." You can hear the smile in his voice and hear the chair creak as he sits down, your nerves calming and allowing you to rush down the stairs to see what all the fuss is about.

"What is seriously so much more important than watching over a dying friend- woah." The words die in your mouth.

So, turns out secret weapons stash wasn't too far off. Seungmin is holding what looks like a long, gleaming machete in one hand, and a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire in the other. He looks-

"Deadly." You exclaim, running your hands over the blade as he hands it over. "Holy fucking shit dude."

"Technically not as important as watching over a dying friend, but I couldn't wait to show you," Seungmin lets out a small smile, something for only you to see, and you can't help but return it.

"Have I ever told you you're my favourite?" You lean the machete against the stairs and throw your arms around his neck seconds later. "Cause you are! You're my favourite."

"Favourite what?"

"Favourite menace." You laugh as he shoves you off. "My favourite pain in the ass."

"Isn't that Han?" You nearly smack him.

"Shut up right now." Ignoring his continued teasing, you look around the rest of the basement. "Mostly junk?"

The dirt floor doesn't stretch far, just big enough for a small family to take shelter in case of emergencies. In one corner, there's an old freezer held open by a broken cane, and inside must be where Seungmin found your new weapons. There's a few more baseball bats with different modifications, spikes, nails, more barbed wire. As cool as they are, you like to stick to something a little... sharper, more precise? Underneath are a couple of dull knives, so you opt to keep the ones already sheathed on your body.

"Anyone else know about this?" You ask, turning back around to see Seungmin admiring his new bat. He doesn't look up when he answers, playing with the weight and feel of it in his hand.

"Just Felix. I was going to tell Han and Chaeryeong when I got back upstairs since the other freezer-" other freezer? You look at the opposite wall and see it, "-over there has some stuff too. Not much to look at, just a couple of handguns and mods they might be able to attach to their sniper rifles."

Nodding, you walk over and take a peek in- not much use to you. "And Hyunjin?"

"He's resting, so someone can tell him when he's up," Seungmin shrugs. "Something happen between you?"

"Nothing," You say, a little too quick.

"Good," He sighs. "I didn't want to know anyway."

You've returned to your spot next to Chan, helping him sit up when he wakes and spoon-feeding him soup Chaeryeong found in a cabinet on the main floor despite his protests.

"I can feed myself," He grunts, moving his head away from the utensil.

"You can't even stand, so shut it and eat." Normally, you would never had dreamed of speaking to Chan like that, but at that point he was getting on your nerves a bit with all his refusals. After that, you managed to get into a light back and forth banter, relaxing with every comment.

"Say ahhhh," You smirk, waving the spoon in front of his mouth.

"Fuck off."

"No, ahhhh," You say. "Did you hit your head too?"

Everything was going surprisingly smoothly considering what happened just hours before. The bleeding stopped for the most part and Jeongin was able to find enough thread in a basket on the main level to sew up Chan's wounds properly, and he only passed out once! When he came to, you wiped his face down with a cloth dipped in lukewarm rain water from outside, talking him down from the sudden panic he woke with. You reassured him that the others were fine, even Hyunjin, who was almost a little too fine. Up until now, you still haven't talked to him, not since seeing the look on his face when he exited the truck with Han.

"He'll come around eventually," Chan sighed. His face is even paler in the moonlight, but you hope getting some food into him will help him regain strength quicker. "He's just... stubborn."

"Tell me about it," You grumble. "Who in their right mind would rather die than cut the problem off? If you're able to be saved, wouldn't you want to be?"

"In this world, I think there are a lot of reasons to not want to be saved," Chan says grimly. "Chaeryeong is coming up here soon, yeah?" You nod. "So, why don't you go talk to him? Clear the air, or at least try to?"

"I'll try..." You agree reluctantly. "Not that it'll go well."

"You don't know that." Chan says softly.

But you do. If you know anything about Hyunjin, it's that he'll draw this out as long as possible. Once, you were witness to Hyunjin refusing to talk to Jeongin for three weeks after he accidentally tore a large hole in the back of his favourite jacket. This will not end how Chan thinks- or hopes- it will.

Careful not to be too loud, you open the door to Hyunjin's room and peer inside only to find him missing. Panic briefly swells in your chest until you hear a familiar laugh coming from downstairs, a smile instinctively forming on your face before you remember the reason you need to see him. The stairs creak underfoot, groaning under your weight and for a moment you grip the railing harder, scared you'll fall through the old, most likely rotting, wood. Around the corner, you see Hyunjin sitting in the middle of the old couch, quilt thrown over is shoulders. His face is lit up by dim candle light, eyes closed as he laughs harder at something Felix says to him. The first to notice you is Jeongin, excusing himself to check on Chan despite the walkie-talkie sitting idly on the table, not even a crackle to be heard. At this, Han looks up and sees you standing in the doorway, offering a weak smile. You feel sick.

"Hyunjin, can we talk?"

"I don't know. If I say no, will you cut off another limb?" He jokes harshly, observing your reaction, but you offer him nothing. "Speak now."

"Don't talk to her like that-" Han sits up straighter, giving Hyunjin a look, but he's cut off.

"Stay out of this," Hyunjin side-eyes Han.

"I didn't even do the cutting-" You start.

"No, but you let it happen." He sits up, blanket falling down around his waist. "You offered the knife when I begged you to stop. I am nothing without this arm. How long until Chan decides to ditch me on the side of the road when he realizes I'm of no use to him? What then? Did you even think of the consequences? No, because you never do."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You ask, voice hoarse.

"You never fucking think! The gas station, you remember that? You could have gotten yourself killed because you don't use your brain, if you have one." His words sting, but you keep listening, internalizing every last bit of venom. "It's a wonder you've made it this far. Hell, even back when we first found you- if you didn't hesitate to run, you would have been back with your squad right now living that cushy life you dream of."

"You think I liked being there?" Your own anger is rising. "And you think I liked witnessing your arm getting amputated? You think I purposefully put myself in these stupid, harmful situations for the fun of it?"

"It sure seems that way to me."

Beside him, Felix shifts uncomfortably. "Maybe we shouldn't-"

"We're all thinking it Felix, you said it yourself. I'm just voicing it."

"Felix?" Eyes stinging, throat burning; you can barely address the boy in front of you.

"That's not what I said," Felix sighs. "Not... exactly. Only that I had doubts about trusting you and your ability to keep up in a fight. But that was before I got to know you! Obviously, I don't feel the same now!"

Part of you believes him, but a much larger, self-loathing part of you overwhelms you with thoughts of inadequacy.

"C'mon," Hyunjin scoffs. "You told me no less than twenty minutes ago you were afraid she'd get us all killed."

"What?" You can barely breathe.

"No, I was joking. Hyunjin don't-"

"Don't what? Y/n, do you want to hear what we all think of you?" Now he stands, pointing a finger at your chest when he comes close to you, breath on your face warm and suffocating. "Felix here thinks you're the weakest link, other than himself. Han hates you, but you already know that. Jeongin is sick of having to patch you up after yet another careless move. Chaeryeong... well, she might be the only one to tolerate you. Seungmin wishes he'd left you under that piece of wall all those months ago, and Chan?" Hyunjin whispers in your ear. "He wishes he never picked up another stray, at least, not one as useless as you. Face it, you're a liability."

One tear escapes as you take a shaky breath in, out, in, out. All of your fears and doubts about your place in the group have been laid in front of you by someone who was supposed to care about you, someone you confided in with those very same thoughts. He knew right where to dig, where the chink in your armor is. Your own blade is stuck between your ribs twisted by his words, leaving you with a bitter taste in your mouth.

"Then I'll leave." You whisper, right as Seungmin joins the four of you. Up until now he'd still been in the basement, but must have heard the commotion. You can hear the crackling of the walkie-talkie, Chan on the other end asking what's going on, but you just pick up your bag, long abandoned by the front door, and head outside.

"Y/n!" Seungmin runs in front of you, blocking your way. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving." You move forward, but he keeps blocking you.

"Did you hit your head or something?" Seungmin frowns. "You're not thinking rationally-"

"So what? So what if I'm 'not thinking rationally'?" You shout, voice wet with anger. "Why should I care what you think, or any of the others, when none of you have the heart to tell me how much of a fuckup you think I am? I'm sorry for getting my leg crushed, sorry for forcing you to stay by my side. I'm sorry for being the reason Hyunjin's arm is laying on the side of the road in the middle of that fucking city, and I'm sorry for not living up to everyone's expectations!" You push him away from you. "We both know I've never been the best at this. It's either I'm too soft, I'm too weak, no matter how hard I work. Clearly, I'm only bringing the group down, so you know what?" You look him directly in the eye, unable to read the look on his face. "I'm doing everyone a favour and leaving, probably off to get myself killed. Not that any of you would care enough to, but do not think about following me. They're your family now. All I've got is me."

Storming off down the long driveway, you consider taking the truck as hot tears run down your face against your will. With your luck, you'll crash the car because you can't see, and no matter how angry you are, you know how important it is for Chan to find his sister. May as well stop screwing them over and let them keep the truck, they'll get there faster. Maybe this whole thing will be worth something in the end, but all you want to do right now is-

"Fuck!" You scream once you're far enough from the house, kicking up some earth with your toe.

All you want is to knock on Minho's door and ask to stay with him tonight; I had another nightmare- That's okay kitten, you can sleep here tonight, I won't tell anyone. You want his warm arms around you and him telling you it'll all be okay. As long as you have him, it'll all be okay. He's your big brother, he'll never let anything hurt you; it'll all be okay. But it isn't okay, nothing's okay right now. Everything is hurting you and nothing is okay. Your legs collapse under you and you fall hard, scraping your hands as you try to catch yourself on the gravel road. A van passes you as you heave, slowing down and pulling over a few metres ahead. Someone is walking toward you, but all you see is the ground coming closer as you lie your head down and sob.

"What's going on, little lady?" A hand touches the small of your back, the other holding your shoulder in an attempt to help you up. "Everyone leave you? Or you left them?"

When you look up, you start to recognize the man in front of you through your blurry vision and try to back away. "Get away from me."

"Now, why would I do that?" The grip on your shoulder is painful now, forcing you up. "You'd run off."

With his hand now fisted in your hair, he starts pulling you in the direction of his van. You fight him, thrashing and shouting before he throws you to the ground with a kick to the stomach for good measure. Coughing, you try to get up which earns you another kick, this time to the back, and his foot stays, pinning you against the ground.

"I would stop if I were you-"

"Dude, how hard is it to round up one little girl?" Another man appears in your vision, someone else by his side.

He pushes the other guy off you with a light shove, picking you up by the underarms. You haven't seen this guy, he wasn't at the gas station and neither was the woman at his side.

"Hold her, I want to check her over." He passes you off to the guy behind you and he holds you up by the waist. "She's out here all alone, could be no good."

"Even if she's bit, we can still bring her back you know," The woman complains.

"Not the same." His hands travel up your sides, lifting your shirt above your comfort level as he goes and says nothing.

Next, he roughly takes your jacket off and flips you over in the other man's arms, bracing yourself with two hands against his chest. With your jacket discarded on the side of the road, he lifts your shirt again and trails two fingers over your spine, making you shiver at the contact. You feel his hands move down your body and cringe at the feeling of his touch. Thighs and calves examined, he hums in approval. At this point your body is feeling numb all over, the foreign touch overstimulating you and making your brain fuzzy. Breathing is taking more effort than it should and you go limp in the man holding you's arms when you can no longer hold yourself up. You barely register the gunshot until you're suddenly on the ground over top a dead body.

"Get him." You don't see where the man is pointing to, but you see the woman run out with a gun drawn.

She's quick, back in no time holding a man by his collar, hands bound behind his back and a new sniper rifle over her shoulder. You realize who you're staring at slowly.

"Han...?" You whimper.

"Shh, it's okay." He manages to wiggle free of the woman, dropping down next to you. "If they lay another hand on you-"

With a grunt, he's hitting the ground and a trickle of blood is spouting from a freshly split eyebrow.

"Help me get them both in the van, now."

---

notes ▪︎ sooo some stuff happened 🫣 what do u think will happen next !!

─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @manuosorioh @hanjisunglover @xxstrayland @puppyminnnie @hanjsquokka @kpopsstuffs @ot8girlfie @quokkabite @linoslawayslinos @reapers-lover @hannieslittlerockstar @kiki0113 @nishiriks @nxtt2-u @moonlightjam @hannieslovebot

green means i can't tag you

#⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS #skz #stray kids #han jisung x reader #han jisung x fem reader #han jisung #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #zombie au #zombie apocalypse au #skz zombie au #han jisung fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz series #han jisung series

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 1 year ago

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Series Masterlist

Chapter 8

Warnings: Mentions of past SA, mention of injuries sustained from SA, scars, masturbation, poor mental health all around

You spent the day with Carol, getting a tour of the prison. There were places that were considered safe, cleared of the dead. That included most of the yard, the towers, a few cell blocks, and the area separating the blocks. You were advised never to go into the tombs, especially until you had been trained to defend yourself. From the living and the dead.

You watched her prepare a small, simple lunch of stew with some rabbits that Daryl brought back and prepped for her. The stew would need to be stretched out to cover dinner as well. Carol confided in you that she was hoping Daryl could get a deer on his next outing.

Between meals, laundry had to be done and the fence had to be cleared. Carol opted for laundry. It was something a couple of other women had taken over since the group had grown in number while Carol had moved to the fence. However, she refused to take you close to the walkers without any knowledge of how to defend yourself. You were introduced to the other women but only worked with Carol so that you were less afraid and anxious. Daryl volunteered to take her spot clearing the fence line.

You had seen him several times but he would only interact with Carol, not even sparing you a glance. His dismissal of you made you feel odd, to say the least. He bought you but didn’t want you. On top of that, the women worked alongside the men on normal activities and were treated kindly. The men you had been introduced to were respectful, but you did have Carol always ensuring she positioned herself between you and the strangers. Kids were playing and learning. There was even a baby.

It was a lot for your first full day. By the time dinner was over and you came inside with Carol, you were exhausted.

“Why don’t I show you where the showers are? You can get cleaned up. I’ll bring some soft clothes for you to sleep in and leave them just inside the door.” She suggested, already leading the way. You really didn’t want to give up the clothes Daryl had given you. You found them comforting. It was the first time you had been in something that wasn’t lace or sequins for as long as you could remember.

Still, it would be nice to feel clean. Really clean and comfortable. So, you relented with a nod. “Okay.”

“Look at you. Baby steps are still steps in the right direction.” When she gave your upper arm a squeeze, you actually didn’t flinch.

Carol showed you how the showers were rigged up to the drums of water and advised you not to stay in too long or you’d use it all up. You were terrified of being alone with only the light of a single candle so she promised to come right back after she grabbed clothes for you. You almost asked to go with her instead, but wanted to see that proud smile she had been giving you. So you stayed.

The water was cold but you were used to that. A bath at the club had usually meant you stood perfectly still and silent while a bucket of freezing water was dumped over you. Still, your breath hitched when the first cold spray touched your skin.

Using soap was like heaven. You actually managed to forget your fear of the dark, quiet room in favor of running your hands over your skin to rid the layers of dirt and grime your quick lake bath had left behind. You paid special attention to the area between your legs. The wounds had long ago healed and scarred over but you had never truly felt clean there since Todd’s brother had assaulted you. You had killed the man with his own knife but Jazz’s people got to you anyway.

Carefully, you ran your soapy fingers over the sensitive skin, the scars his knife had left raised and bumpy. Imperfect. Broken. Flawed. You pulled your hand away, staring down the front of your body as the suds disappeared, showing the scars across your breasts and stomach. They weren’t as severe as the ones your back held. But they were there.

Your lip was quivering with tears weighing down your lashes but you managed to get the soap off of your hands and wipe at your eyes before they could fall. The squeaky door opened. You assumed Carol had returned, hopefully remembering you didn’t have a towel. Your shivering only seemed to worsen once the water was shut off so you decided maybe you could intercept her. She was going to see you regardless. There weren’t curtains on the stalls.

Careful not to slip, you trotted out of the stall with your teeth chattering… and slammed straight into Daryl’s chest.

You backed up immediately, shocked gazes meeting briefly before you dropped your head. You didn’t attempt to cover yourself. Men had a right to look at your body, Daryl even more so.

“I’m s-s-s-sorry.” Goosebumps were littering your skin but you didn’t dare move. Maybe he’d finally decided he wanted you, despite what Carol had said. You didn’t even hear him move before his boots stepped right in front of your bare feet. He sighed before wrapping a large towel around your petite frame, holding the front out a little for you to grab.

“Usu’lly need one’a them if ya gonna take a shower.” His voice was low and gravelly in a way that you’d never heard from him. “M’sorry.” Why on earth was he apologizing?

“Th-thank you,” you took a deep breath, “Daryl.” You squeezed your eyes shut and waited for the rage. It never came. Did he really just want you to call him by his name?

“Mhm.”

The door squeaked again, Carol rushing through with an apology on her lips and a towel in her hand. Her soft expression turned stern. “What’re you doing in here, Daryl.”

The archer lifted his hands in a placating gesture, his sleep pants draped over one arm. “Easy, woman. Was just gonna grab a shower an’ this’un didn’t have a towel. Gave ‘er mine.”

Her face said that she believed him but she leaned to check on you anyway. You gave a tight smile and nodded. “I’m okay.” You all but whispered, scurrying past him and toward the woman you were learning to trust more and more.

“Here.” She tossed him the towel she’d brought for you. “Take your shower. And learn to knock.”

“More than one stall in here. Shouldn’t hafta knock.” She had an arm around your shoulder when she shot him a look, resulting in his hands coming up in that same gesture once again. “I’ll knock. Jesus.”

“Good.” She smiled at him sweetly and he gave her a middle finger as she steered you through the doorway, pressing the clothes into your torso as you walked. “I’m so sorry, honey. I took a few minutes to set up the top bunk for you. I didn’t know he’d be showering this late. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded quickly. He hadn’t even tried to hurt you, which still boggled you. Little by little, you were beginning to believe what she was telling you; that you were indeed safe. Still, your guard was up and the fear lingered. The learned behaviors were not letting go so easily.

Once you were in the cell, Carol turned away from you to allow you to get dressed. The clothes she brought you were warm and comfortable. They were a little big but fit well enough. You climbed onto the top bunk before she spun back around. She was already dressed in a loose shirt and sweats, her feet bare.

“You feel safe enough to get some sleep?”

Pulling the thin blanket up to your shoulders, you laid on your side. The mattress was thin but it was more comfortable than anywhere you had been allowed to sleep in a long time. “I think so. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. Just try to rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” She said from the bunk below you.

“Okay.” Once the candle had been blown out and shadows swept into the room, you pulled the blanket up further, covering everything up to your eyes. Fear was building up in your chest, your gaze on the blanket over the cell door, watching it as if someone would tear through it at any given moment.

You realized your eyelids were growing heavy only seconds before they closed and you fell into a deep sleep.

The image of you standing bare in front of him was etched into his mind. He found himself extremely grateful for the cold water dousing his heated skin. He shouldn’t think of you like that. It was wrong. You had been objectified for god knows how long. He had no right to entertain the scenarios running through his brain.

He knew it wasn’t attraction that made you look at him the way you did. It was obligation. It was fear. He certainly wouldn’t mind if it was something you truly wanted. He’d let you wrap those pouty lips around him, fucking your mouth and wiping the tears from the corners eyes as you gagged on him. He would return the favor, of course. He wondered what you tasted like. He would make you cum on his tongue first, then bury himself inside you to the hilt. What sounds would you offer to him? Would your thighs shake against his hips as you came again?

“Fuck.” Daryl forced out through gritted teeth. He punched the hard wall in front of him, leaving his fist there to rest his head against it. He was a real piece of work to imagine fucking you when you’d spent so long being raped over and over just to survive. A real fucking prick.

The cold water was doing little to calm him now. His cock had stirred to life, now painfully hard. With a growl, he took himself in hand but didn’t move. He wasn’t sure what to think about when all he wanted now was you. If it wasn’t the end of the world, he’d still have his brother and Merle would have porn in one form or another. Then again, if it wasn’t the end of the world, he’d probably never have met you and this wouldn’t currently be an issue.

This wasn’t something he normally did. Daryl wasn’t an overly sexual being. He had jerked off twice since the turn and it had been out of boredom more than anything else. He had to handle this. He couldn’t exactly stroll out of the showers with a raging erection in his sleep pants. God knows how long it would take to go away on its own, especially with the intrusive images of you playing in his head.

The first stroke forced a hiss from between his teeth, but he pressed on and quickly fell into a rhythm. He tried to imagine girls Merle had brought home before but they always morphed into you. After a few very frustrating minutes, he gave in and let his imagination run rampant.

He fucked into you hard while you whimpered around the fingers he was pressing down on your tongue. When you took him like a good girl, he slid down your body and devoured your pussy as a reward. The little mewls and moans he imagined you’d give to him were quickly stoking the fire at the base of his spine. When he pictured you riding him, his hands squeezing your hips as you begged for him to cum, he was undone.

Daryl came with a muted shout, biting his fist to keep himself grounded through each wave. Panting, he turned and placed his back against the wall, tiredly watching his spend mix with the cold water and disappear down the drain.

Disgusted by what he had just done, he rushed through the actual bathing and shut off the water. He truly wanted nothing more than to disappear into the woods for a few days. At least until the very thought of you didn’t make him feel like he should apologize.

“Goddamnit.” His voice was a mere whisper. Grabbing his discarded clothing, he just pressed his palm down onto the candle to extinguish the flame. The sharp pain from the burn was easy to ignore. He deserved worse.

How did he let it get to this point? He truly was an asshole.

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milllersfae · 1 year ago

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‧₊ ⋅★ 彡 all yours I bodyguard!abby x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k I warnings: attempted sa* (*not by abby we don't play that!), intoxication, fem!reader, angst + fluff I summary: 'before you entered just a couple minutes before, her eyes grazed you well for a second before following behind you with a hand to your back, guiding you in. "you can call me abby. i'm yours for the entire night. if you need anything at all, lock eyes and I'm there."'

a/n: this takes me back to my wattpad days! this fic is a lot more intense than my other works, so i can understand if it doesn't sit well with some readers, my apologies. miiiight make a part two if my heart can handle it. thank you to @millersaurora for inspiring me to keep writing even if im struggling irl a bit. so many hugs ^^

im sending a limo for you. i sent a bodyguard to bring you here. you'll find us sitting in VIP, k? give me a call if ANYTHING happens, see u soon <3

the new blue bubble appeared, bright white screen against your face in the darkness of the car. your model-of-a-friend plus-oned you into a private party after your long hiatus from nightlife. there was an itch against the sequins of your slip dress, a sweat that built on the foot of your heel that fought between a knot in your throat. any distraction to keep your mind off her.

she sat straight, back stiff against the leather of the seat. her hair was neat in a blonde braid and fell over her shoulder, contrasted against her black button down. before you entered just a couple minutes before, her eyes grazed you well for a second before following behind you with a hand to your back, guiding you in. "you can call me abby. i'm yours for the entire night. If you need anything at all, lock eyes and i'm there."

your mind was a never-ending race that you didn't even notice the car came to a halt at the front of the venue. music loomed heavy outside the building, an echoing call that coaxed you in. you turned to abby for a sense of reassurance. she raised a curious brow, in an essence of a silent 'you ready'? and you nodded in reply. she headed out her side of the door, rushing over to open yours. she held an arm out to help you balance on your heels.

"after you."

your face flustered as you thanked the driver and stood up to hitch yourself around her, arm feeling the ridges against her bicep. you walk through the doors as the vibration of music hummed through your body. the room was full of people and personal chatter, only illuminated by the flicker of the overhead lights. the two of you searched for your vip seating, making way through cliques and crowds of people. abby caught sight of the group, pulling you in her direction. you followed with a wobble, walking up a slim set of stairs to meet at a large velvety booth.

"you made it!" your hostess exclaimed, wrapping you in a big hug as you sat next to her. "i hope abby was no issue to you. she's not a huge talker."

you sneak a look at her where she sat next to you, taking a slow sip of her drink. your stare held longer than you imagined, her eyes meeting yours as she swallowed. you turned back with a blink and nodded. "n-no, not an issue."

your friend smiled in response. "i'm so glad you could come out tonight. go order a drink, dance! get out there! i'll be here for most the night talking to my manager about my next runway show." she cocked her head towards the main floor. "abby will watch out for you if anything goes off."

you oblige, nervously getting up to make your way to the bartop. you scooted past guests with soft 'scuse me's and 'thank you''s as you finally found your way to the stools. you found an open seat and grabbed the bartender’s attention for a daiquiri.

you never against a night out, but such an atmosphere had grown unknown to you. you felt a little nervous at your presence, sitting amongst those in high-level industries—only to be a mere plus one. you try to settle your mind with the first sip of your drink, strawberry sweetness distracting you from the thought. it was long before one drink turned into three, the intoxicating feeling stirring itself into your bloodstream, slowing your anxiety into a gradual thought in the back of your head.

a broad-shouldered man found his way to the seat beside you, making notice of the glint of shimmer that coated your dress.

"you're surprisingly mellow—how'd you get into a high energy little thing like this?"

your head turned with a startle before taking the man in. he wasn't an eye sore, gaze filled with a similar drunkenness that made you open up more than you usually would.

"a friend wanted me to come. not big on the energy and unfamiliar faces here."

he nodded with an attentive assuredness that brought you an hours-long awaited peace you had been hoping for. even though the two of you didn't exchanges on names, you unfurled into conversation faster than you'd ever expected yourself to.

"how 'bout a drink or two, take it as my congratulations for getting the guts to come out tonight." the tuxed man joked, ushering over the barkeeper for a round of drinks. they soon arrived, liquor running brown over the crowd of ice in the glass. with a sequence of sips, the event felt bearable after all. you turn back to check on your friend, consequentially shooting you thumbs up of assentment on your new guest. you motion a nod of humorous disapproval before meeting his face again. it had changed now, where something more playfully arrived. he put his hand over yours, grazing the top of your knuckles slightly.

"is it too late to get out of here?"

your eyes darted nervously, unsure of your answer. before you could utter a response, abby had impatiently parted through the cluttered crowd of partygoers to meet you at your seat. her face was taunt and fixated on the new acquaintance.

"hey, let’s go talk real quick." abby muttered, grabbing the man by his collar, and rushing from the barstool to the back of the room. you worriedly followed, yelling her name haphazardly. the room had felt it grown temporarily quiet at your voice, your ears ringing and vision becoming blurrier than it had already became. you finally found the two with a turn of the corner, your hands hitting your mouth in shock.

abby laid another punch into his nose, already bloodied and stricken with fresh bruising. in your best attempt to not draw attention you struggle in separating the two with a pull, meeting absolute failure. the man had given up with a slump to the floor before abby finally turned to you, face reddened with anger.

"what the fuck is wrong with you!" you cry and try to shove her, only to find her solid as a wall. her breaths were heavy against your skin. you were dizzy and drunk, making weak punches into her stomach before she held you by the shoulders, pinning you place.

"honey, listen to me, you didn't fucking see what i saw—"

"see what? what are you, jealous?" you jokingly spat, inebriated thoughts coming to the surface. you wrestle at abby's grasp, her eyes growing pained and concerned.

"no!" she tried to hold you still, trying to hold your erratic attention. "he—he was trying to drug you."

you stopped, her words hitting you with a jarring halt. you focused on the sound of your own breathing, then the music, then eyes, cloudy and blue were pinned on you, brows wrinkled deep.

"when you turned around i saw him slip something in your drink. i had be watching him all night. i couldn't stand and watch it any longer."

her voice teetered back in forth in your head, trying to catch up with your own conscience while you tried your best to piece together the last half-hour. how easy he had gotten to you, how good it had felt.

how fake it had been.

you feel you eyes water, finally finding words to slur out.

"can we please leave. please."

abby assuredly nodded, holding her hand for you to grab as you head back towards your table.

"i'm gonna tell everyone we're leaving and explain the situation some more in the morning..."

it didn't register with you much, and abby had made notice. she looked over to you, eyes patient and empathetic.

"don't worry, i got you now."

you fluster a bit before making it to the table. you couldn't make out abby's words, only focusing on the reassuring shoulder she gave your host. the two nodded in agreement before she returned back to you. you walked back to the very entrance you came from, air hitting you in a waft after the smother that lingered in the stuffy club. abby let you into the awaiting limo.

"anywhere i can take you? home? we can go the police station if y—"

"...is ramen an option?"

abby laughs softly, relived at your reemerging composure.

"always an option."

the two of you made the safe choice of renting a room a classy hotel abby had picked herself. after the 20 minute back and forth on guilt that you had about the price, you let her pick the last room they had left, carefully escorting you to the elevator.

the silence was deafening, the incline up the floors feeling an inescapably slow pace. you looked at the floor, barely able to look her direction. your lips parted nervously to make the first statement.

"m'really sorry. i'm so naive."

she made a pensive nod, staring down at the bags of takeout she held in her hand.

it seemed like she couldn't look at you, too.

"never apologize for someone else's manipulation. that's all i ask of you."

with that, the doors parted allowing the both of you to step onto the floor you would home for the night. with a touch of the keycard, the door coaxed open. with a enter, you made a muffled gasp at the size.

it was spacious, king-sized bed sitting at the back of the wall, decorated between two sleek white nightstands. a white rug sat at-length on the ground, leading your eyes right towards the never-ending windowed sight of the cityscape-sky. you found yourself hypnotized by the sight, walking in beeline to the glass. never in your life was something like this possible, yet your mind still lingered on the cause of it all. you feel abbys' presence join you, giving you a light nudge on the arm.

"let's eat before it gets cold, right?"

you nod, making your way to the spacious bed that almost seem to await your arrival. abby hands your bowl, warmth still on your palms. she hands you your chopsticks already split and the two of you began to dig in, slurps and gulps filling the room. it was that same feeling you got before from him but unnerving. real.

abby raises her bowl to your chin, rope of noodles twirled around the wooden stick.

"you wanna try?" she prompts, raising it to your mouth.

you gave a hesitant nod before parting your lips. her eyes drift slightly to your lips before softly mumbling 'say ahhh' before you finish with a chew and swallow.

everything about her became an aphrodisiac in the moment. it was any part of her; the scent of her perfume was neutral and linen, the roll of her sleeves and the toned forearms beneath them, the slight unbutton of her shirt revealed a thin gold chain with her name written in script. you hid all the feelings in an elongated chew as she gave you a second bite. the taste of umami had a good way of derailing your sultry mind.

your buzz had begun to become endurable again as you tried to recount the moments of the night. how much had carelessly entered and left your mind, but her. she stayed. she looped and weaved and was consistent.

"i know you're not big on my apologies but i'm sorry i screamed at you. you were just doin' your job." you lazily swirled your chopsticks in your broth to avoid any stare at her upper body.

abby clicked her tongue against her teeth. "don't sweat it. wouldn't be the first time. you were scared," she started, slurping a mushroom into her mouth. she chuckled beneath her breath. "'was funny how you thought i was jealous though."

you unexpectedly yelped at her comment, eyes wide with embarrassment. you place your bowl on the bedside counter, hands gripping your dress with fervor. "i said that?"

she followed, placing hers next to yours. she shrugged her shoulders, comically shaking her head.

"yea, something like that. I wasn't offended."

"i hope not, that whole thing was far from cute." you reply, hands fiddling in your lap.

"god, never about that guy. guys like him make my job feel worth it. like i did my part." she fixes a hand in her hair, undoing the braids with a few movements of her finger. abby leaned in, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"i never said i wasn't jealous though."

your face fell hot at the tension, noses near touching. she scans your face for reaction, eyes unaware of your next move.

you battled between your intoxicated mind and inner conscience. something told you this was stupid. immature, even undiscerning.

but something stronger told you it felt just right.

you wrapped your arms around her, repositioning your body to lean in hers. you could feel the warm of her skin against yours, like a signal idling towards an impatient yes.

"thank you. so much. i wish i could find another way to say it." you hushed.

"you can."

she pressed against you, lips leaning deep into yours. the mix of whiskey and strawberry still left on your tongue only made your clamor deeper, head pressing against a tendril of hair that fell in front of her face. she pressed her hands against your hips, the indents of her rings felt cold against your skin. the felt of her touch ate you whole, made you feel blanketed in comfort, made a bliss long unfelt.

you parted, your lashes parting with a flutter, taking in the burdening desire that she had created and unfurled inside of you.

"see, that wasn't so hard." she teased, cupping a hand behind your ear as you fall into her chest to muffle your unexpected laugh.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

#cassi!writes ♡‧₊˚#abby anderson fic #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #the last of us fanfiction #abby x y/n #abby x fem!reader

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asolareclipses · 9 months ago

Text

(Previous Part)

Will stared at the spot Nico had disappeared from for what felt like centuries. His body was coursing with a tornado of emotions; he felt pure fear that Nico might never come back, followed by a rush of anger so strong it took full control of him.

“Are you proud of yourselves?” His voice was cold as ice as he turned to the group that had gathered, everyone was utterly silent.

“Will we didn’t mean to-“ Dana began to say but he couldn’t stand to hear another word.

“Nico has saved this camp, more times than I can count.” Will’s voice was rough in exasperation. “But that’s not good enough for you is it?”

This time he was met with blank stares and ashamed looks from the ones who had joined in the accusations.

“None of you could ever do even half of what he had to do,” Wills hands trembled, whether it was in rage or despair, he couldn’t determine. “Yet you judge him? Pathetic.” He laced that last word with more anger than he’d ever felt, before storming off back towards the big house. He was vaguely aware of Jason following behind him, and the fact that Chiron had witnessed the whole event. He didn’t acknowledge either of them until he entered the big house, slamming his hands against the table as he muttered a few choice words under his breath.

Jason seemed to hesitate before approaching, “Hey…you okay?”

It took all of Will’s energy to not snap at him, “Yep, totally fine.”

“Would you perhaps like to explain what has your tunic in such a bunch Solace?” Mr D was so surprised by Will’s demeanor that he forgot to mispronounce his name.

“Nico’s gone, he ran off or something. I don’t know,” Will sighed in frustration, raking his hands through his hair.

“Ran off?” A tense look displayed itself across Mr D’s face.

“It seems as though di Angelo has decided to take our disturbances into his own hands.” Chiron said, his voice was calm but was laced with undertones of sadness.

“Now why would he do that?” Mr D spoke again, this time his voice sharper as he dug his nails into the table.

“Because he thinks no one trusts him, like he has something to prove.” Wills anger had dissipated, his voice was now struck with frustration. “I don’t blame him either, they all turned their backs on him, just like that.” It was something Will couldn’t understand, he’d never feared Nico; Nico was a hero, yet it seemed like only a few people could see that.

“After everything he did,” Jason’s eyes looked as if they were reflecting a storm, “I can’t believe that’s how they treated him.”

“I believe Nico knows he still has many people on his side, however some of the others mistrust has led him to take on a burden that should not be solely his.” Chiron had a far away look shown across his face, “Fortunately he is not alone.”

“Not alone?” Mr D seemed to be the only one confused as he had not witnessed the earlier events.

“Right,” Jason frowned, “Leo went with him.”

“Great, out of everyone he could’ve taken with him it had to be Valerie,” Clearly Mr D went out of his way to never say Leo’s name correctly.

“We have to go after them,” Will said as his face shone with a sudden sense of pure determination.

Jason agreed as he turned to look at their directors, it was clear he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Okay,” Chiron agreed, “but Rachel will arrive tomorrow morning. Seek her advice first, she may be able to point you in the right direction.”

Will wanted to argue, the idea of Nico being out there doing Gods knows what was eating him up inside; but he knew he had to wait if he wanted a better chance at finding him. Jason seemed unnerved too, his usual brave facade was falling apart as a more unraveled version of himself made its way to the surface.

After reluctantly agreeing on the plan they left the big house, walking towards the cabins as a heavy silence formed. In front of them, the sun continued to set across the horizon, filtering the colors of summer across the camp. But despite the warmth an abnormal breeze had stirred up, it seemed to dance around Jason like a visual depiction of his nerves.

“We’ll find them,” Will said his voice boasted by a false confidence he was instilling within himself.

“Right.” Jason’s voice agreed yet his face was still plagued with worries.

“You’re scared, I get it. But you know, Nico and Leo are really strong, they can handle themselves.” Will wasn’t sure if he had the right to comfort Jason when he himself was on the brink of collapse, but he knew that one of them had to be strong.

Jason sighed, stopping in his tracks as he looked up at the darkening sky. “Yeah, it’s just last time…” His voice trailed off as storm clouds rumbled across the reflections in his eyes. “I almost never saw him again.”

Will had nearly forgotten all that had happened with them, how Jason had lost Leo just to find out he was alive. But soon after Leo had to lose him too. The two of them had been in a constant cycle of losing and finding each other, always wondering if the pattern could be broken.

“Maybe it’s not the same but I know what it’s like for someone to disappear,” Will took a breath of the warm summer air before continuing, “The first time I met Nico we were both so young, I was thrilled to meet someone my age but then, poof, he was gone. Years later he showed up again, he looked like a completely different person, yet it was still him. I thought he’d stay again, but just like before one day he was just gone. I think i’ve lived every day fearing he would disappear again, now that’s it’s happened…I just need to have hope that i’ll find him. He’ll be okay, both of them will be okay.”

Will left out the part about how he lost his brother, how one second he’d stood on that bridge and the next he was gone. Whatever was left of him had never been found, it was as if he were never there. He left out how the constant loss of his siblings only burned his fear of loss deeper and deeper into his bones.

“You’re right,” Jason’s eyes seemed to clear even if only just for a moment. “They’ll be okay, they have to be.”

“They have to be.” Will repeated, putting all his hope into those words, all his fear and anger. He was going to find Nico, and everything would be okay.

Everything.

—

That night the Zeus cabin had never felt colder.

As Jason tossed and turned the spot next to him only become more hollow and empty. Without Leo’s soft breathing the room was eerily quiet, without his precence it was impossibly cold.

Jason tried to pry his mind from the old memories, yet he was always led back to that fated day, hearing Leo’s lasts words repeated over and over. The pain still felt fresh, the pain of losing him and then losing himself.

Leo had sacrificed everything to get him back, he’d gone through the underworld and back all for him. Jason could still feel the darkness surrounding them as he followed Leo into the light. A journey never meant to be completed, something said to be impossible was accomplished all because of Leo. From then on Jason knew he’d follow Leo anywhere. But now he had no idea where Leo was. It sent him into this constant state of panic, wondering if he was okay, if he was coming back.

He needed Leo to be okay, he needed him to come back. Otherwise, what was the point of everything that had happened?

It was safe to say Jason didn’t sleep that night, because every time he closed his eyes he saw Leo’s face as he said goodbye.

Morning couldn’t have come sooner. Jason now waited anxiously at his cabins table, unable to stomach much breakfast. He kept looking for signs of Rachel, he could tell Will was just as anxious. He seemed to be having a somber conversation with his siblings who all donned dark expressions. The missing member from the table really seemed to stick out, maybe Nico wasn’t someone you’d really think of as “bright” but he had really brought life to the Apollo table.

Jason almost screamed in joy when he’d heard the sound of helicopter blades suddenly approaching, of course leave it to Rachel to have a dramatic entrance. Both he and Will hurried over to where she was landing, wasting not even a second.

She seemed surprised as she stepped out of the helicopter, “Woah woah, looks like somebody’s happy to see me.”

“Rachel,” Will said in a dire tone, “we need your help.”

“Great.” She sighed, grabbing her bags as she waved off the pilot, “Let’s head to the woman cave shall we?”

After explaining the situation to Rachel her attitude seemed to change, “That’s not good. You know, I have been having some strangely dark dreams.”

“Any of them suggest where they could’ve gone? I mean Nico seemed on edge, he must’ve known something..if only i’d just asked.” Wills voice was quiet, almost as if he felt ashamed.

Rachel closed her eyes for a moment, “A light house.”

“What?” Jason and Will gave each other a puzzled look.

“I keep getting the urge to draw a lighthouse, or lighthouses? Also I saw this school, it must’ve been a boarding school.”

“Do you remember the name?” Wills eyes started to dance with a nervous energy.

“West..um..west something, I don’t know.” Rachel frowned as she tried to recall the name.

Will flinched as she spoke, hesitating before finally saying, “Westover?”

“Yeah, that’s it!” Rachel met his eyes, “How did you know that?”

“It was Nico’s last school, he went there for a while before he came to camp.” The memory seemed to bother Will as he explained, “It’s in Maine, which would explain the lighthouses.”

“Right,” Rachel nodded in agreement, “I knew I recognized the area.”

“So we have a place now right? Westover, wherever that is,” Jason said, the fact they now had an actual location to find gave him a spark of hope.

“It’s our best bet,” Will agreed, yet he didn’t look very pleased. “Let’s go talk to Chiron.”

It wasn’t a long talk, they didn’t even receive a formal quest, it was more like a recovery mission. Chiron seemed reluctant to allow them to leave but he knew the two of them were bound to go no matter what.

As Chiron handed them the keys to a camp owned car and some cash he said, “Be careful you two, I expect you to come back as four, alright?”

Will nodded, “We will make it back, all of us.”

Chiron smiled, and whether it was true smile or not Jason couldn’t tell; nonetheless it was still reassuring.

“Well Jason,” Will turned to him, dangling the keys off his fingers, “Ready for a road trip?”

(Part Five)

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vemaro · 11 months ago

Text

how the tables have turned

Summary: “Are we seriously delaying our day so she can pleasure herself? Have you all lost your damn—”

He’s suddenly being yanked back by his shirt. On instinct, he pulls out a dagger, ready to attack, but Jaheira, the perpetrator, takes out her own and holds it at the ready. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Little Star,” she says cheekily.

Pairing: Astarion x Tav (female Tav)

Word count: ~1800

Notes: Here I am on my day off wanting to write fluff and I end up writing about the whole Haarlep ordeal. That situation is bizarre and uncomfy, but full of so much angst. As per usual, this is written with the context of my AU, so Astarion and Tav aren’t actually together (yet) and this takes place within the context of the game plot. The vampy boy just got back from the ditching the posse in a hissy fit and discovers some disturbing changes.

…

“Rendezvous back here at the Elfsong when we’re all through, got it?” The party converges on the door of their suite, Tav at the lead, but just as it opens, she freezes. A tingle runs down her spine and a flush comes over her cheeks. No no no. Not now. Not again. “Oh no,” she mumbles before shoving her way past her friends and running straight to her bedroom. The door shuts with a resounding thud and a loud silence follows.

Karlach grimaces. “Fucking Haarlep,” she says, spitting the fiend’s name.

Astarion, who was at the back of the group, looks between Tav’s door and the tiefling. “What … was that about?”

No one gives him an immediate answer, but something about their silence feels off. He’s the only one who appears lost. In other words, they know something and they don’t want to tell him. Most likely as payback from when he left their group. Even he has to admit it’s somewhat warranted, but he’s here now, damnit. Then again, it’s been less than 24 hours since he came back.

Gale, unofficial second in command, awkwardly steps into the center of things. “Tav requires a, er, moment of privacy.” He clears his throat. “We should allow her that by going out and doing as she asked of us. Supplies won’t collect themselves.”

Astarion stares at the door. “But is she alright?”

The wizard falls silent once more, pointedly looking down at his boots and clearly done talking. Okay … Astarion can’t tell if he’s more annoyed by the situation or concerned for the person locked in the room. Fine. If they’re not going to provide him any information, he might as well get it from the source.

His expression must’ve given away his intention because Wyll grabs his shoulder before he can move. “Don’t, Astarion. Leave her be.”

“Don’t touch me.” He shrugs off the warlock's hand and continues on his way. Just as he touches the door knob, a noise escapes the room. A moan. A moan? And he knows that moan. He’s made people do it before. This—this can’t be right. He must be delusional. But then there it is again, a sound of ecstasy passing through Tav’s lips. “What in the fucking Nine Hells is going on in there?” he demands out loud.

Gale's face is bright red and he’s white knuckling his quarterstaff. “I told you she needed a moment,” he mutters, eyes pleading. “Now please kindly step away from the door.”

Astarion does move away from the door and gets right in his face. “Are we seriously delaying our day so she can pleasure herself? Have you all lost your damn—”

As frustrated as he is, Astarion is in no mood to fight. Although he has apologized for his dramatic departure, he’s not so naive to believe everyone has entirely forgiven him. He stashes his knife and holds up his hands. “I yield.”

She snaps at the others. “You all have a job to do, don’t you? Shoo.” They all file out slowly, a couple of them tossing a final glance in Tav's direction. Once it’s just the Harper and the vampire, the former gestures signals for him to follow. “Come.”

He grits his teeth, but obeys. Jaheira leads him downstairs into the tavern. It’s still mid morning, so there’s not much business yet, only a handful of people sprinkled across the space. The pair bypass the bar entirely and find an empty table in a secluded corner. She sits down first then nods towards the empty seat. “Sit.”

Astarion doesn’t fancy being told what to do yet again. “Tell me now; are you actually going to explain or should I just walk away?”

In lieu of properly answering, Jaheira lets out a world weary sigh and instead asks, “You are aware that we now possess the Orphic Hanmer, yes?”

He rolls his eyes. Perhaps he should leave. “Yes, I’m aware. How is that relevant to this conversation?”

“You recall where it was being held?”

His patience is wearing thin. “The House of Hope; that devil, Raphael’s, domain. I was told you lot took care of him.”

“Indeed. Raphael was defeated by our hand when we tried to escape with the hammer,” Jaheira says plainly. “However, prior to that battle, there was an incubus, Haarlep. He agreed to help us, but it came with a steep price.”

He reaches for his dagger again. “Is he up there right now?”

She shakes her head. “No, fortunately not.”

“Then what are we even talking about?”

Jaheira has never been one to mince her words, something Astarion respected her for. So it isn’t a good sign if she hesitates before speaking. The elder woman clasps her hands together and rests them on top of the table. Still, she pauses first. “Haarlep gave us a code to a safe and the hammer in exchange for having his way with Tav.”

Astarion feels his stomach drop into the sewers. “What?” He bangs his fists on the table. “Why the hells didn’t you kill him?”

“Honestly, we weren’t around to stop it from happening,” she confesses. “Tav split off from the group at some point and by the time we found her, a deal was struck and the deed was done.”

He points towards the stairs. “That still doesn’t explain whatever that is.”

Again, she hesitates, which is very unsettling. “He is a shapeshifter, much like that bloodthirsty Orin girl. Whenever he uses Tav’s form to seduce someone, she can feel everything with her own body.” The High Harper scowls. “It seems he’s been using it quite frequently.”

Astarion comes to a horrific realization. He covers his face in shame for her and finally drops into the open seat. “So right now, he’s fucking somebody else as her?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long time. This is too much. This is too familiar. Cazador is dead. Cazador is gone. Astarion stabbed him himself. This isn’t even about him, it’s about her. That stupid, selfless woman. He always warned Tav that her acts of heroism and martyrdom would eventually bite her in the ass one day, but he never thought it would be something like this. This is so much worse. What was she thinking? Jaheira allows him some time to gather his thoughts. When he does, he lets his hands fall away. “And … how often does this happen?”

“If I had to guess, every few days.” She sighs yet again. “You know how she can be though. It could be more. It hasn’t happened during a fight.” There’s an implied yet that hangs heavily in the air.

By now, a few guests have started to trickle in. Their private conversation won’t be so private for much longer. “How is she? Really.”

Jaheira stands. “Well, with an incubus violating her body, a mind flayer invading her mind, and a vampire spawn who wished her dead, how do you think, Little Star?” She doesn’t give him the opportunity to answer. She just walks away and out the front door, leaving him to stew in his thoughts and emotions. Which can be perfectly summed up as what the fucking hells.

It doesn't take too long for the druid to descend the stairs. At the bottom, she scans the room and her eyes connect with a familiar red pair of eyes. For a split second, she breaks into the sunny smile she’s known for, but one look at his expression sours hers. Tav heads for the door.

“Tav!” Astarion scrambles up from the chair and chases her outside. “Wait!”

She does not wait. “They told you.” It’s not even a question.

He catches up and puts himself directly in front of her. “I was going to find out eventually.”

Tav starts stabbing him with her finger in the chest. “Hey, you don’t get to judge me. You weren't there and it was the only way that no one would get hurt and—”

He lets her do it. “Out of everyone here, I have the least right to judge you.”

She laughs, but the sound lacks any humor. “Out of everyone here, you’d have the most right to judge me.”

Astarion frowns at the accusation. “Why would I judge you at all?”

“Because I had a choice, and you didn’t.”

Technically, technically, she’s not wrong, but that doesn’t make this any less fucked up. “I’m not judging you, Tav.” Gods below, is this what it was like for her when she was trying to get him to open up? “Your body is being used in such a dirty, nefarious way against your will, the toll on your mind and body is unfathomable. I’m the only person here who truly understands that.”

“I’m fine.”

Her nonchalance on the subject is pissing him off, but a small voice (that sounds awfully close to hers) reminds him this isn’t about him. “No, you’re not.”

Tav crosses her arms. “You went through this for two hundred years. I’m not going to compare my tendays of discomfort to your literal centuries of torture.”

“By the Gods, Tav, it’s not a bloody pissing contest for trauma!” He wants to grab the druid and shake some sense into her. If the issue at hand was literally anything else, he would. ��Whether it’s been happening for a day, a week, a month, or a thousand years, it’s a shit predicament for anyone.”

He notices her fists clenching and unclenching. She’s digging her nails into her palms. “I appreciate the concern, but it’s fine. I’m fine.”

That’s a lie, plain and simple, but he won’t push the subject any further. From his own experience being on the other side of things, specifically during their discussions, it made him dig his heels in the dirt and shut down. Ironic how the tables have turned. “Alright,” he concedes. “But if you ever need to talk, I’m willing to lend an ear.”

Tav closes her eyes, takes a very deep breath, and lets it out very slowly and loudly. When she looks back at him, she seems slightly less frazzled. “Thanks, but I’m—”

“Fine?” he says with a smirk.

She snorts. “I am.”

“Of course you are.”

With an unimpressed eye roll, she pushes him away in jest. “I am, for the millionth time. Now drop it and let’s go. We’re already running behind.”

“Coming, dear.”

As they walk side by side, Astarion can’t help but wonder when he became the emotionally mature one in their friendship. The one attempting to crack open the shell of the other person. Ugh, he fucking hates it. Being the petty and bitter one is much easier. And yet he wants to try to be supportive and open. For her.

The things you do for love, right?

…

Thanks for reading!

#bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #tav x astarion #tavstarion #tav bg3 #vemaro

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avatar4life · 29 days ago

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Thunderous Prowler

"Milo have you seen my shirt?!" Miles asked as he was looking frantically for his school uniform shirt in his messy room full of drawings, mainly about his friend/crush Gwen who's part of the same friend group as he and his twin Milo. "Why would I know where your shirt is cabron? It's your side of the room who's messy not mine" Milo said as he was putting the last things in his backpack as he looks at Miles annoyed and rolling his eyes when he finally found the shirt and put it on and put on his backpack "ok I'm ready" Miles said to him as he was looking at him and grabbed his sketchbook, the one that wasn't filled with drawing of Gwen. They both came downstairs as they found their mom feeding their little sister Billie, who was giggling at the airplane noises Rio was making and eating the food gleefully. "Bye mami, we're going to school" they both kissed her cheeks and then Billie's and left the house. Soon they reached their school and went towards their friend group which was made of Hobie, Pavitr and Gwen. "Hey guys, what's up?" Miles said in his usual cheerful tone as Milo just gave them his usual nod of acknowledgement "sup".

"Miles, Milo, my favourite twins, took you long enough" Pavitr said, wearing his usual sun kissed smile as he hugs Miles and dapped Milo, as Hobie greets them and pats Milo's back.

"h-hey Gwen, what's up?" Miles said in his nervous tone as he tries to act normal around her, but it all goes out of the window when she smiles at him "hi Miles, hey Milo" she greets them with, what Miles considers, her beautiful smile with the adorable tooth gap.

During their waiting for school to start they chatted about a few things while Hobie practiced with his guitar "hey you lads have heard of the new students? Heard they can play instruments, maybe we should add them to the band uh Gwenny?" He said as he looks at the rest, who looks at him curious, except for Pavitr, who looks excited "oh yes, I can't wait to meet them".

Miles looks at Milo who was scrolling on his phone, not listening to the conversation "dude, at least socialise" "I'll socialise when you'll finally confess" Milo retaliate as he glares at him, until they all heard some motorcycle sounds coming towards their school. Everyone looked towards wher ethe sounds came from and they saw two motorcycles parked them. The people on top of the vehicles took off their helmets and a few people were in awe at the two new girls.

The first one had a labret, septum and noise piercing and a few tattoos on her forearms, she looks both calm and tired as she grabs her backpack from inside her motorcycle seat.

(disclaimer I don't condone the use of ai to steal art or replacing artists, but I'm lazy to do it myself)

(also she looks like the first photo and wears the second photo uniform, just in the dark purple of the movie)

Milo looks at the girl with an awestruck look, amazed by her beauty and her strong blue eyes, looking like the deeper parts of the sea, not even being able to notice that Miles noticed his expression and was silently smirking at his face look.

The second girl takes off her own helmet and looks at the school building with excitement, her hair being the same as the other girl but with a white streak in it , having an eyebrow and snake bites piercings

(I used the same photo to show the uniform they'll wear)

It was clear to everyone that the new girls were twins but still look a bit different from one another, the main one the white streaks on the second girl's hair.

Both the girls looked around before grabbing their keys for each motorcycle and went inside, ignoring the stares of the others. The first girl looked at her left and made eye contact with Milo before continuing to walk into the building as the bell rang, indicating the start of the school hours. Milo lookes at the direction that the girls went and could feel his heart beating heavily in his chest.

"looks like you got a crush, uh hermano?" Miles teased him with a smirk which only earned him a punch on the shoulder as Milo walks in, looking down with wide eyes as a realisation came in

'mierda, I got a crush'

#miles 42 #miles morales x reader #atsv pavitr #atsv hobie #atsv #spider gwen #gwen stacy

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deadricslover · 1 year ago

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tracing roses

a/n: first post for the loml! I'm a harry Stan 'til I die.

summary: with a whole bunch of changes for the future of one direction, harry doesn't know how he will cope and thankfully you're there to comfort him in his favourite ways.

warnings: no established relationship, anxiety, cursing, Zayn leaving :(, mentions of the management ugh (that deserves a full tw), short post?

pairings: lhh styles x sixthmember!reader

I know that the timeline of events doesn't match the real life one but it's all for the post ok?

-------------------------------------------------

What the media portrayed harry to be was the complete opposite of what he was actually like. His reputation was the womanizer, cool and reserved guy who didn't have the time of day for anyone other than the band, and really, it was just unfair because none of that was true. Really, Harry was the sweetest guy who cared for every single person he met and would make a whole room light up with the sparkle in his eyes. Despite what the media thought, He had feelings, and needed comfort here and there like every other person.

This particular upcoming show was an important one, it was Zayn's last show in the band but the public didn't know yet, so they had to make it count. Nobody was really themselves today as they knew they had to make a good impression for management if they wanted to continue touring and making music without him as a five person group. These emotions were hightened due to the overwhelming sudden surge of sadness and loss due to Zayn's news. Zayn was your best friend alongside Harry and you honestly didn't know how you were going to cope with not having him around when writing songs or performing anymore.

You stumble into Harry's dressing room to let him know we will be going on stage soon, but are met with a teary eyed Harry with his head in his hands. You make your way over to him and wrap your arms around him from the back whilst tracing circles on his arm and place your head on his shoulder, comforting him.

"I know, Haz. I know" you whisper kissing his temple slightly.

"this is just such a big change" he cries

"I know. and it's going to be so hard for us all to adjust to. But, we have gotta support his decision" you explain squeezing him a little tighter. he replies with a teary sigh, gazing at you through the mirror silently asking to be comforted

"even though I can't fix it, I can help you through it" you add leaning your head on his, sadly smiling a little bit, closing your eyes momentarily.

"I'm just gonna miss him" he confesses, the tears making their way to his eyes once again. Seeing him upset always made your heart drop with sadness, and a set of your own tears pricks your eyes seeing one of your favourite people upset.

"I know, haz. let it out, ok? I'm right here" you comfort as he stares blankly at the desk ahead of him

"I think that the mix of Zayn leaving and the anxiety because this show being so important is just making me so much more emotional" he explains his feelings and you listen intently the entire time, empathizing with him as you feel the same way. This is about him though, he doesn't need to know.

you plant kiss after kiss onto his face, cheek, temple and hair in comfort and keep twirling pieces of his hair around your fingers to calm him down. He takes a deep breath in and out to regain himself before looking back at you through the illuminated mirror.

"what time are we on?" he asks

"we have time" you lie. you came into him with fifteen minutes before the show and now you're running late, but, for an important reason. You didn't want him suppressing any feelings.

he looks at you confused, not entirely believing you but leaning back into your touch and closing his eyes nonetheless, while tracing shapes onto your arm wordlessly telling you that he's grateful for you.

your moment is rudely interrupted by Louis Bursting in the door chaotically.

"guys, why the fuck aren't you on stage. we are late. stop cuddling and kissing and get out and get your mics" Louis demands

Harry hops up and looks at you accusingly. You shrug and leave the room with him, both of you following Louis to the stage. You get your assigned microphones and head towards the stage. Harry grabs your arm on the way and stops you both, facing you and looking down at you with a hand on your upper arm.

"Thank you so much for that. I don't know what I would do without you, I really don't" he informs you referring to you comforting him, making your heart throb.

"it's nothing, harry. just want to make you feel better" you reply smiling wholeheartedly at him.

"I love you so much" he confesses, wrapping you in a hug around your arms and you slip yours around his waist to reciprocate.

"I love you too, haz. always here for you" you reply before the six of you get on stage and open with clouds, and nobody can deny that this show wouldn't be the same and that you would all be acting different.

halfway through 'story of my life' harry was sitting down towards the back of the stage looking quite down and nervous as he knew come the end of this song, you guys would have the encore and then the show would be over, concluding the chapter with Zayn in the group. you jog to the back and sit down next to him grabbing his hand in yours lightly and he lays his head down onto your shoulder.

"you good?" you ask him

"mhm" he replies humming. you didn't buy it, you knew him better than that.

you look down to his hand in yours and examine his tattoos for a minute. your eyes land on the rose tattoo next to his elbow and the perfect shading. Your thumb starts tracing the petals and thorns on the design, comforting him as he is focusing on the feeling of your hand. You knew this calmed him down. He takes a couple of deep breaths and continues singing after Louis finishes his part whilst visibly calming down yet again. He gets up from where he was sitting and starts walking around the stage interacting with a couple of fans and the guys maintaining the hold on your hand bringing you around while you giggle to yourself. This doesn't go unnoticed by fans and you were sure you would see some twitter posts about it later, but in the moment you didn't care, all you cared about was making him feel better and calming his anxiety about this whole show.

you were super lucky to have a harry in your life. You think everyone should have a harry in their life too. And he feels the same about you, he thinks everyone should have one of you in their life too. But then again, he didn't want to share you with anybody. He loved you comforting him, and knew that you would always be there for him and visa versa.

everyone needs a you and harry pair in their life.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #long hair harry x reader #long hair harry #long hair harry fluff #deadricslover #one direction #one direction imagine

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xylaes · 3 months ago

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Read Part 1 Here! Read Part 2 Here!

Part 3

Xylaes peeked out from behind the Puppetmaster’s Workshop’s door into a completely alien landscape. Other than being underground, he had absolutely no idea where they were, or how long they had even been here. The darkness was cut by various light sources scattered throughout different levels of platforms, stretching all the way up past his vision. It almost looked like a city with all the various buildings and stalls he could see from his limited view - which was probably just about the worst place they could have found themselves. Being trapped in a foreign city full of enemies was not ideal, but he was very much so determined not to die here.

He clocked a handful of nerubians hanging out in the distance, but for the most part the walkways seemed to be clear. Perhaps it was nighttime? It was impossible to tell down here. It was their best bet to stay in the shadows between the buildings, heading in one direction until they found the edge of the city and then would go from there. The information was relayed to his small group of five others and they agreed that this was the best plan.

After a few minutes of surveying the streets, Xylaes slipped out of the door in a crouch, beckoning the others to follow him as they crept around the side of the building into the shadows. They silently wove their way through the alleys towards an area where there was only darkness above, hoping that it signaled the edge of the city. A few of those peculiar, lanky nerubians were dispatched along the way and stashed in the shadows as they neared the outskirts.

“Overcrawlers…” A wispy voice murmured in common from nearby. Immediately the entire group began to swarm around the source of the voice until it spoke again, “I come in peace, I am here to help.”

Xylaes kept his weapon at the ready, this could very well be a trap. “Explain.” He seethed through clenched teeth.

“I am Tulumun, Assistant to the Executor. We want the same things that you do, for our new Queen and her vile Harbinger to be eliminated. Our city grows unstable, and our own people that resist are in grave danger. We have aided others of your kind that were brought down here by them, I can take you to them. Or I can let you continue on, but you will likely not get far.”

Xylaes wasn’t exactly an expert at reading the body language of nerubians, but what other choice did they have at this point? He had no idea what else was out there, if anything, and they were lucky to have gotten this far. “Take us to them.”

Tulumun produced a vial of liquid, holding it out to the group, “These are pheromones that will allow you into the Bazaar. Apply them, but still give the guards a wide berth. They are not with us.”

The group did as asked with some hesitancy. Applying strange, smelly liquids to one’s body, offered by a complete stranger, a nerubian at that, wasn’t on Xy’s bingo card today, but here they were. Couldn’t be any worse than what they had already been through, and his gut feeling told him to trust this particular nerubian. There was something sincere in her voice, and an insurrection wasn’t surprising when your ruler sides with pure evil.

They followed Tulumun through the streets, still wary but none of the nerubians seemed to pay them any attention. They moved down into the depths of the city, and the deeper they went, the more decay they found in the buildings around them. “This is The Burrows, you will find many allies here, but still try to keep a low profile. The Queen has spies everywhere. ..But so do we. Please, step inside.” She gestured inside one of the larger buildings.

The tension Xylaes had been holding in his entire body slowly began to relax as eyes darted around towards the various members of the Kirin Tor, military, and civilians that had been in Dalaran during the attack. His gaze fell on a familiar face in the corner and he nearly gasped, “Rynga!” He rushed over to the dwarvish woman and dropped to his knees, pulling her into the biggest hug.

Rynga had been on Talon’s mercenary crew for years prior to his joining, and she was always quick to welcome anyone, and had become something of the ‘camp mom’. Always warm and welcoming, and had a kind word for everyone; but she would absolutely lay your ass out if you deserved it.

“Ohhh, Xylaes! Ohhh my goodness, yer a sight for sore eyes, lad.” She returned the hug eagerly, squeezing him tight. “I knew you were in Dalaran too, and I was hopin’ fer the best. I shouldn’t ‘ave ever doubted ya. Come, come, we have food and water fer everyone here. You can trust these folks, they saved a great many of us that were taken. There’s others too that still need help. They’re bringing in new folks on the daily, so we’ve been helping them and they've been helping us.”

Xylaes exhaled a sigh of relief, finally releasing Rynga’s smaller frame as she cupped his face and looked him over for wounds and continued. “Haven’t had a chance to reach out to anyone outside o’ here. They took all our comms, not sure they’d work this far underground either, and it’s not been safe to do much travelin’. Figure at some point the military will work their way down ‘ere themselves. So fer now, we best be stayin’, and I knew you’ll be wantin’ to get back out there and help others. Yer a good lad.” She gave him that matronly smile and ruffled his hair before pulling him into another hug.

She was right. He wanted to help, and he wanted his revenge.

@themercenaries

#story #xylaes #wyrmrest accord #wra #moon guard #the merc crew

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netherfeildren · 2 years ago

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FEAR OF GOD : Chapter IV : Mouth full of blood

Series Masterlist ; Moodboard

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC

Summary: A trap is set, the two of you fall.

Content Warnings: canon-typical violence, gore, threat of sexual assault, PTSD, rough sex, heavy angst

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Art is Healing by Laura Makabresku.

Word Count: 6.8K

Read on AO3

CHAPTER IV: Mouth full of blood

Without violence, how do I understand my life as

meaningful?

As if the only tool I owned for finding truth were a knife. -Gabrielle Bates, Eastern Washington Diptych

A silence as vast as it is particular surrounds the two of you. The loud, wheezing gasp of his breath, the only discernible thing he can make out. It was like you’d been sucked into a vacuum, the rest of the world taken through the maw of a black hole. Trees and darkness and your small hand clutched to the back of his jacket as you follow close behind him.

He makes his way slowly through the dark, one precise step in front of the other, rifle trained ahead of him. The two of you’d been separated from Tommy and the others one by one, picked off like goddamn flies. He didn’t even know if they were all still alive, if his brother was okay.

It was a trap. It was a fucking trap. Goddamnit, he’d known. He’d known this was a mistake.

He was going to kill someone, several someones, for this.

They’d come out of nowhere, the so-called group of weary travelers the girl had told you all about. She’d appealed to your soft nature, tears and timidity, and scrapes and bruises you’d tended to with the gentlest hands that’d ever graced this world. You didn’t belong out here. He should’ve never let you come. You needed to be somewhere safe and warm and protected. Surrounded by your books and your soft things, and him there, to watch over you, always. This was all so fucking wrong.

The men had diverted the group, spooking the horses and separating you all, a coordinated attack. Whether they were trying to find an in to Jackson, or if they’d heard rumors of a doctor, the resource you posed was a valuable one any group or community would vie for, he didn’t know. They’d targeted you first, spooking your mare. She’d reared and unseated you, and he’d almost cracked his neck he’d whipped around so fast watching you go down. The small thud your body had sounded as you’d hit the ground, the seconds it took you to open your eyes and start to move again, the longest moment of his entire life. He’d scrambled off his horse and lost it in his rush to get to you. Hands smoothing over you, down your neck and back, your limbs, checking for breaks. And then he’d looked around to find the two of you were alone. The sound of the others echoing off in the distance, accompanied by other, more harrowing noises. The shot of a gun firing, rushed footsteps and shouts going in and out of his ears. He’d told you to stay close and had set off in the opposite direction, away from where he thought the sounds of the group were coming from.

And then the clicking.

Singular in the darkness, the croaking click of an infected. He pauses your movements, halting abruptly so that the soft weight of you thumps into his back. What the fuck was an infected doing so far out here? Was this part of their plan? Had they connived some way to herd infected out here as part of their attack? Who the fuck even were these people? He needed to get you back, get you safe. Now. This was all wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Was that an infected?” your scared, cracked whisper.

He holds up a single hand, listening, listening. “We’re gonna move, slow and steady. Silent,” he whispers. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t be scared, I’ve got you.”

“Joel–” fierce little hand clutched in his jacket. He starts to move again. And then the splintering of a nearby tree, gunshots directed at you, and he’s spinning and grasping the back of your head to push you down onto the ground. “Down, down,” he shouts at you, “Crawl to the tree!” He hunches over your form, knees bent to hover over you and shield you with his body, towards the protection of the trunk. The shooter has shit aim, trees feet away from the two of you fracturing in the ricochet of the bullets. But then there’s a heavy weight slamming into Joel’s side, taking him to the ground, and he hears you scream his name as the man struggles to straddle his middle, get the upper hand. A heavy fist slams into his cheek and Joel grapples to get his arms and legs around the fucker. He can hear your voice sounding in the darkness, but all he can see is the man above him, his sloppy fists swinging without precision or direction. The man is haggard and dirty — months of traveling and wilderness apparent in his face and clothes. Joel manages to get a strong hold on his throat, and then he’s heaving his legs around the man’s torso and cinching him in a lock between his thighs, pulling his face down to meet his fist over and over. His knife is in the holster at his belt, and he’s able to reach it with the hand not gripping the man above him at the same time that he realizes Joel’s reaching for a weapon. He scrambles to knock the knife away and goes for Joel’s throat. Joel manages to turn his head enough to find you in his periphery while still grappling with his attacker.

He watches as the man above you grabs you around the ankle and slowly starts to drag you across the forest floor. Your screams reverberating in his ears like a gong, like the shredding of metal. They’re desperate and visceral and the worst fucking sound he’s ever heard in his entire life. You claw viciously at the ground, nails cracking and bloody, trying to find purchase on anything to pull you away from the man’s grasp, to use as a weapon against him. And then he’s gripping your knee and flipping you over roughly, boot planting his heavy weight on your chest as he pins you in place like a broken butterfly. He bends to say something to you he can’t make out from where he is, but the look of sheer terror and disgust on your face tells him everything he needs to know. Joel sees red, doubles his efforts into a savage mess of limbs and fists, trying to get the man attacking him off.

The dead man standing over you pauses then, turns his head slowly to Joel, and his smile is revolting – dark and rotting, “You ready to watch?” This is every nightmare Joel has had since the end of the world, come to life.

The man crouches down over your struggling form, hand wrapping around the delicate column of your neck. Get your hands off, off, off, get your fucking hands off. There’s fire in his lungs, in his blood. He hears the sound of a clicker again, the screeching monstrosity charging through the dark wood towards you all, and with a burst of extra strength, born of pure terror, he finally finds purchase on the ground with his foot, enough to leverage up and reach his hand towards his lost knife. The sound of the clicker getting closer, closer – and then he’s slamming the knife into the eye of the man above him, the sick crunch of steel meeting bone, and then deeper, until he feels the tip meet the softness of brain – rips it out and then slams it back in again at his neck – blood spurts hot and metallic across Joel’s face. And when he turns his head back towards you, preparing to take in the worst thing he’s ever seen since he watched his daughter die – there you are. Small, trembling frame straddled over the much larger body of your would-be attacker, a hunting knife the length of half your arm stabbing over and over again into his chest and abdomen. He can hear your guttural screams over the white noise in his ears – great heaving sobs shake your chest. Your face, tear streaked and splattered with blood. He sees the eye socket closest to Joel is empty, optic nerve hanging torn and bloody. The gouged eyeball lies a few inches beside his lolling head. The sight of you, his little bird, with hands that hold such power for healing, for care and love, imparting such violence – this is his greatest failure.

He calls your name, loud and sharp, and you pause your massacring immediately. Look up, as if waking from a haze, brought back to consciousness at the mere sound of his voice, eyes glazed and vacant, and his heart is breaking for you, a savage howling ringing within him, his bones vibrating with the very force of it. This is no place for his gentle little bird, no, no, this is all wrong.

“Run, Birdie. Run. Hide. I’ll find you. I promise, I promise. Run.” He can see the refusal in your eyes. The stubbornness threatening to set in. “You promised. You promised you’d do as I say,” he grits through clenched teeth, voice filled with desperation and panic. You shudder, body jerking violently as his words settle inside you, and then you’re shooting up quick as a bullet and turning to run into the darkness. He watches the wood swallow you, and then he’s pushing himself up and squaring himself to face the clicker.

The pounding of your feet in the dark, the rattle of your breath in your chest are the only things you can discern in the black surrounding you.

You have been here before.

You’re terrified that at any second you're going to see your sister. Her ghostly specter, her savaged and torn body, her beautiful, warm face, whole and healthy and smiling at you, the massacred pieces of her torn flesh, scattered along the forest floor.

But you need to go, you need to run, to hide, to do as Joel ordered you. Even though every fiber of your being is telling you to turn back. That the worst thing in the world you could ever do would be to leave him. And then you’re slamming into something, jarring and painful. Something blunt and heavy jabs into your gut, slams into your knee with so much force you see stars, sends you to the ground.

A woman screams, guttural and shrill, as your two bodies collide and a sharp needling cry echoes. Your back slams against the hard forest floor, your head bouncing sickeningly, and white streaks of light flash against the swallowing darkness.

“Fuck, fuck –” she spits, already scrambling back up to prepare to flee, the high pitched cry sounds again. A baby, you think dazedly. There’s a baby here. The baby the girl mentioned? Your head feels hollow, your brain pulsing against the confines of your skull.

“W–wait–” you croak. You can’t get your bearings, too many sounds muddling your pounding head: the far off gunshots – getting closer, the horrible clicking, your memories battering within your mind over and over, Beth’s phantom screams of pain, Joel yelling at you to run, run, run, the baby’s wail fueling your panic to rise higher and higher inside of you. You have been here before. A sense of déjà vu so acute – as if this moment is the only one you’ve ever existed in. Your skin throbs in echoes, a hair raising chill rolls through your body and you shiver, jerking. “A baby–” you stutter, “You have a baby–” you roll over, reach out to try and grasp her kicking ankle. Her boot collides with your wrist, and you swallow an agonized scream, rolling away from her.

“Get the fuck away from me! Fucking murderer!” she screeches, over the baby’s cries. A flash of the moon illuminates the woman’s figure for a second and you see the bulk of the child cradled to her front. And her face, panicked, dirt streaked and desperate. You lock eyes for one interminable moment, take each other in, they’re light, almost glowing translucent in her skull with the reflection of the moonlight.

“Let me– let me help you — Wait–” you urge, you can’t get up, can’t get your limbs to work.

“Get away from me!” she screams again, and then she’s up and gone, fleeing into the darkness. You need to move, the vicious sounds of a fight are drawing nearer – Joel’s pleading voice in your head run, run, run. The thought of having left him behind makes bile curl in your belly, burn your throat, but you’d promised him you’d listen to anything he said, and the instinct to keep your word won out. You hear Beth’s voice more clearly in this familiar darkness, and you force your shaky mind to move, to work. The way she’d say your name so patiently when trying to teach you something, imparting some of her slightly snooty big-sister-wisdom, always well meaning: The trees, the trees are always our friends. They can do so much for us. And then you’re clawing your way to your feet, just like that long past night, and grappling for any sort of purchase you can find with your hands and boots. Up, up the tree, go up the tree. It saved you once, it’ll save you again.

It terrifies you to think that life was only ever a recurring set of events; cyclical in an inescapable way. That you were all doomed to repeat the same steps, relive the same instances, again and again. Beth forcing you up the tree last time, the night of her death. You’d been taken by surprise by clickers that night also, but only you had made it up to the first branches before they were on her. Before you were forced to watch, helpless from your perch as she was ripped to shreds. You had been here before and you’d lost something essential to you last time. You would not survive a second loss.

Joel, please be okay, please, please.

You manage to foist yourself up into the lowest hanging branches, the blood in your head throbs so strongly it’s coupled with a wave of nausea with every beat of your heart, up higher, a little more. You’d perched on that tree branch for hours after she was finally dead. Staring unseeingly at the scattered pieces of her body. A sudden gunshot echoes loudly in the darkness and you almost lose your purchase on the branch, and then it all stops. Like all sound is suddenly sucked out of the air in a vacuum echo – the struggle of the fight, the clicking and screaming – and the vacant wilderness is so consuming, so terrifying, tears stream silently down your cheeks. You can hear your breath rattle in your chest. You feel very, very alone, as if every other human in the world had vanished with the sounding of that gunshot.

Alone in a sick and destroyed world.

But then there’s a sudden bumbling through the trees. A body breaking against the brush and leaves on the ground, and another one of the attackers stumbles into the clearing. You turn your head in the direction the woman had fled, perhaps she’d been part of this group, but the sheer terror in her eyes, the desperation to get away as quickly as possible, her words, calling you a murderer, inclines you to think not. Joel stalks into the clearing after him, and you huddle deeper into the shadow of the branches. The moon slants just so allowing you to take him in.

It’s like he’s grown five inches taller, the look in his eyes – there is no hint of the man who’d touched you with the gentlest hands you’d ever felt in your entire life – it’s terrifying. His gaze swings almost manically in his head, taking in the clearing, and then his eyes stop on your tree, pause on the patch of dirt at the base and slowly travel up, looking into the looming darkness of the branches. He will always find you. You know this as surely as you know your own name. His face, his hands are steeped in blood, his clothing savaged. There’s no weapon in his grasp as the man turns to swing a long, serrated hunting knife at him. He jerks back, smoothly evading it. “I’m gonna find your little bitch, gonna fuck her dead – gut her. Make you watch the whole thing, you motherfucker,” he taunts. He’s laughing, provoking, and Joel’s countenance is so terrifying in this moment – his face seems set in stone, unmoving and frozen in a rage so black. Your whole body shivers so violently you almost lose your perch. The branch creaks beneath you, and you let out a small whimper as your hands scrape and scramble to hold on, your bloody, broken nails clawing at the wood. The man turns at your sound, but Joel’s gaze remains trained on him. The man’s eyes are manic with sick glee. “Oh, there she is,” he croons. His teeth gleam red in the moonlight, and he never should’ve taken his eyes off Joel, not even for a second. He’s on him faster than you can blink, shoulder to the man’s gut, he slams him to the ground and his skull rebounds with a sick crack on the hard dirt, the sound of his skull breaking with the sheer force of the tackle.

Joel is an animal, hungry and vicious, ready to gorge.

The knife is in his hand then, and the sick, slick squelch of it plunging deep into the man’s chest sounds loud and victorious in the night. He lets out a small surprised oh, as he looks down at the knife impaling him, and Joel’s teeth are bared in a snarl, he grinds it harder, deeper.

“That’s right, fucker,” he says, voice low and guttural, almost unrecognizable in this darkness. “Shoulda never put your hands on her.” The sound of it makes you more afraid in this moment than anything else that’s happened tonight, the thought of not knowing the sound of his voice – of losing him so far to his rage you’d be unable to recognize him, to bring him back to you. But then he speaks again: “I’m going to kill you now.” He’s nodding his head mockingly, and that familiar monotone is back. His tone so matter of fact – almost like a reassurance to the three of you. The oily grip of your fear slides off you, and you’re left only to appreciate the magnificence of his violence as he starts beating the man’s face in with his closed first, again and again. The sound of crushed bone and flesh resonating in the dark night air like some gruesome song. And the sight of it: it is lurid, grotesque, but also somehow, erotic. Joel’s huge, heaving body, his fist breaking repeatedly over human flesh; you are mesmerized. You slowly start to lower yourself back to the ground, never once taking your eyes off him, barely blinking. The sight of him, wrathful, murdering, the way he kills for you, the way he protects you; you understand it. It is very much like the moment in which Beth died in its violent inevitability. It will always happen like this; Beth dying, Joel protecting you. The way her body was torn apart piece by piece by clickers as you watched on from above. The basest display of violence imaginable. Joel, meticulous, precise in his strikes, protecting you with everything he has. The man’s skull is an almost bloody mass of pulpy, bone riddled sludge beneath his blows. But in this instance, the scene before you is now something that is being given to you, something being done for you – not something being taken away.

There have been many times where the lines between the infected and the humans blurred in your psyche. Unsure which was more violent, more horrifying, more willing to inflict damage. But there never existed a question of which had a greater capacity for cruelty. It was always, always the humans. Cordyceps had taught you that nature could never be cruel – it only existed as it was meant to, did as it was always intended to. There was no cruelty behind it’s actions, no motivation behind the consequences it wrought besides to go on existing, no choice. But humans, people, the well of cruelty that existed within humanity was endless in its possibility. Endless choices. Nothing else like that lived in the world. The man you killed – his disgusting whispered words ring in your ears as you watch Joel: You think your man over there’ll get off on watching? ‘Cause I sure as hell am gonna enjoy knowin’ he is, pretty thing.

There are no lines in this moment – the way you’d murdered him – there is no sense of division. There is only Joel’s desperate violence existing with the three of you in this clearing – the echoes of your own.

And the sight before you, the violence in him, it is not frightening to you. He is not frightening to you. To see his very basest nature – to see him protect you in this way – that violent heart, beastly, savage – it does not frighten you. You step forward, closer to the massacre, to the man you love, and he instantly stops. Hearing or sensing your approach, he stops and turns his bloody, savage face towards you, chest heaving, fist still raised. The look in his eyes as he registers your presence, that you’ve witnessed him in this way – to Joel, to Joel it is devastating. You can see it in his gaze, the moment it settles within him – catastrophe of the highest order.

The possibility of losing you, of you being hurt, of him not being strong or fast enough to protect you; every fear, every moment of unimaginable danger, every point of no return flashes in his eyes – it’s like you’re reading his mind in this moment. The instance of connection, of knowing, of intimacy you share in the wake of his violence – it tethers you to him in a way that is deeper than anything else the two of you have experienced before. To share this, to know what he’s feeling in this space his violence has forged, to understand his rage – he’s seen this play out so many different ways, so many times, with different versions of someone he cares for. Sarah, Ellie, you.

His eyes like glass, broad chest heaving, painfully out of breath; it’s like you can see him recall another moment like this as he looks at you, as he takes in the familiar look of hungry reverence in your eyes, mirroring another set too young to churn with so much appreciation for violence.

He straightens from his crouch over the massacred form of your attacker, and comes to you, bloody hands fisting in your hair as he takes your mouth, open and fierce. The groan he licks into you is guttural, eliciting a shaky, broken moan in response.

“My brave girl,” he murmurs softly, nose nuzzling your cheek.

His hands roam down, gently pressing for wounds or hurts. “You’re okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” You press yourself to him, gaze peeking over his shoulder, staring out into the empty darkness, only the sound of your shared breaths now.

“There was a woman,” you whisper, “With a baby.” Where did she go? Why did she have a baby out here with her in this hell?

He pulls you back, grips your jaw gently, “Are you hurt?” He demands, ignoring what you’d just said, and you shake your head, wide eyed. Do they have shelter? Somewhere to go? Someone to help them?

“Are you?” you ask him.

“I’m fine.”

“I saw a woman, Joel. She had a baby.”

“Was probably with those bastards. We have to go – find the others. I have to get you back home.”

“But she had a baby–”

“That isn’t our concern,” he says sharply, and turns, clutching your hand in his, pulling you forward to bend for the knife still plunged in the man’s chest. He isn’t letting you go again. You feel the promise in the strength of his grip around your bones. The skull is caved in, and your eyes volley back and forth between the slaughter and Joel.

“But I–”

“Don’t.” There is no room for discussion in his tone, only an urgency that begs for your obedience. His panic, his terror, envelopes you both in its asphyxiating embrace. “Not now. We have to go.”

You make it back to Jackson within several hours. Never coming across the group or the horses again. Joel sets an uncompromising pace that has your exhausted, overwrought body shutting down once you finally set eyes on the gate.

He hasn’t said a word in hours except to check if you’re okay. His breathing, harsh and angry — you’d focused on the rhythm of it, the reassurance it provided you. Let the sound settle in your bones and guide you forward along with his hand. He’d not let go of you since he’d picked it up, and your fingers have long gone numb in his strangling grip. But you know, that like the sound of his breathing, the feel of your palm in his is his own form of reassurance. The embrace he’d not allow himself right now. Not until you’re safe.

The dark, red thread of tension pulls taught between the two of you. His earlier violence, still palpable on your tongue, felt in the rigidity he holds himself with, it buzzes between your bodies like a hive. A restless anxiety overshadowing the exhaustion threatening you, making your skin itch and sweat.

You return to find Tommy safe and unharmed, Kenneth and Pablo being patched up by Nancy and interrogated by Maria. The fourth in your party, Ben, is dead. A group already assembled to go out and search for the two of you. The teenage girl had disappeared from the clinic shortly after your group had headed out – the whole thing was a trap. Joel recounts the fight in tense, short bursts, never letting go of your hand. Pulling your body slightly behind his, as if these people, familiar to you, your friends, your family, also pose a threat. Anyone who dares too close is met with the fire of his glare, bared teeth. He’s yet to shed the blanket of violence he’d dawned to defend the two of you earlier, and your body seems to answer it, a keening cry only he can hear. Shaking and sweating, clutching the back of his jacket, pressing your feverish brow to his shoulder. You know you should pull yourself together, tend to Kenneth and Pablo, clean and wrap Joel’s obviously broken hand and your own scrapes and bruises – it’s your responsibility – but you can’t focus, can’t pin a rational thought in your mind long enough to propel yourself into action. The wet sound of Joel’s pummeling fist plays over and over in your mind, the only thing you can focus on, the feel of his warm back under your touch. You need him, need something from him after that trauma, after your fear of being taken from him, of one of you being killed. You need him to remind you that you’re both okay, alive, that you belong to him and only him.

You block out their conversation, eyes closed, you try to match the rhythm of your breathing to his, try to ground yourself with his body. The feeling of never having left those dark woods, of still being in that tree with Beth, not Joel, beneath you, of being lost, lost, lost, of never finding him, is overwhelming you. And then he’s turning and pulling you into his arms, guiding you away from the group and whispering into your hair, “It’s alright, it’s alright, just a little longer. We’re going home now.” Home, he was taking you home. The words out of his mouth allow you enough clarity of mind to squeeze the wish from your heart into your brain – that you want so desperately for his home to be yours also. That you could both share the same space you call just your own.

“I’ve got you, baby. Stop your trembling now,” he presses into your hair. His voice, so comforting, so reassuring.

Your eyes are blurry, colors passing your gaze in a hazy amalgamation that makes your heart beat faster. You can feel the mass of it pounding against the ribs in your back, the sensation sick and uncomfortable. And then you’re in his bedroom, and his hands are everywhere, ripping aggressively at your clothes, sliding through your hair, squeezing your ass and your breasts and your hips.

“I need you– need you, need you– Need to feel you, Birdie.” His voice pushes an urgency into your skin that has your heart beating even harder against your ribcage, his mouth sliding over your neck, tongue laving into the hollow of your collarbone, teeth biting, sharp and painful, into your shoulder, and you find your voice finally, keening and broken, calling out his name. He’s moving lower, sucking on your breast, biting, as if he could fit the entire heavy weight of it into his mouth, “Joel– Joel, please.” You push and grip at his head, his hair.

“I know, I know, baby. I know what you need.” He pushes you back onto the bed, rips your legs open, fingers and nails pressing painfully into your soft skin, he spits on to your exposed sex, rubbing his saliva into your folds, bends for a long lick, and then two of his thick fingers are shoving into your cunt. He curls them forward and presses, presses, hooks into that spot that belongs only to him and bares his teeth at you. Snarls like an animal. Mine, mine, mine, you’re okay, you’re mine, he chants. He moves his fingers fast, with a lewd squelch that has you writhing and gasping, scissoring them to stretch you open. He pulls them from you, too soon, not enough, you want to say, but you hear the drag of his zipper – he spits again – and then the hot, wide head of his cock is there at your entrance, swiping along you in a wet arc, and then pressing, pressing in, and he’s there, surging into you and fucking hard and fast into your tight heat, hitting the end of you. The groan he lets out when he sinks to the hilt vibrates through you. You aren’t fully ready to take his thick length, and you don’t care, want it harder, faster, want it to hurt more, to remind you that you’re here with him, that you made it out of that dark wood. You curl your fingers under the damp crook of your knees and spread yourself wider for his ravaging. Eyes never leaving his, you arch your back to allow yourself to take him deeper. The moan you give him, pleading, almost pathetic in its desperate supplication – like an animal, like prey, pinned beneath the claws of a savage beast.

“This is what you needed – this is what you needed. You’re okay, you’re okay” he chants. You cannot discern where it is he ends and you begin. You never want to be able to tell again, want to meld your souls, your bodies together like ore.

Still standing over your naked form at the edge of the bed, he lets himself fall forward, rigid arms holding himself up. He takes in your flushed, sweaty face, the glassy, terrified look you’d worn for hours replaced by the glassy haze of arousal. Delirious at the pleasure he’s forcing into you right now, he picks up the pace of his hips, gives it to you harder. Snakes a hand down to give your clit a gentle swirl, then further down, where his fingers part in a V to feel where his cock splits you open.

“Just take it, just take it.” His cock inside you is brutal, cunt stretched to the point of obscenity, stuffed full. “I need you to take it for me, just like this – be a good girl – don’t struggle, lemme give it to you how I need.” His desperation has a flavor, a scent to it. He changes the angle to fuck up, up against something no one but him has ever touched, a space inside you that belongs to him, thumb soft as a whisper on your swollen clit, around and around. He can tell you almost need to tell him to stop, that it’s too much. “Fuck, that’s so good, baby, you’re such a good girl,” he praises, and you make a soft, obscene sound that he feels in his battering cock. He gives it to you harder. It’s a sound of acquiescence, of complete capitulation, that he rings out of you. He’s conquered you in this moment – conquered you in a way that grants you no option of stopping. The sound is his permission to conquer. With his body over yours, within yours – you are completely at his mercy and protected from everything else in the world that could ever hurt you. He feels god-like. There is no fear or loss or hurt, no possibility of failure, only his body moving within yours. Your warm wet heat swallowing, gaping for him as he fills it like you both need him to.

The panic of that darkness surrounding him, of being unable to find you, of killing everything in his path just to fucking get to you, sings through him. He’d kill this dead world over and over and over again a thousand times just to find you in that darkness.

He hooks your knees over his arms, hitches them higher – holds your legs open wider to receive him – your bare tits pressed up against the bloody, savaged cotton of his flannel – too desperate to bother stripping his own clothes, and the rough fabric rubs your soft skin raw. Each time his hips slam against your ass, balls slapping, your breath stutters out of you in broken gasps, and you don’t think he’s ever been as deep in your cunt as he is now. He wraps one of his arms around your back, gripping your shoulder to impale you down onto his cock. His other fists painfully in your hair to keep your head in place and tilted up to him; your jaw hinged open so you can breathe into each other. Your own hands clutch uselessly at his wrists, trying to exert some semblance of force against him – to remind him of your own strength while he overwhelms you with his. He’s fucking you as if he could burrow his way inside of you forever, live within the confines of your skin. You’ve lost track of how many times your cunt has spasmed and come around him, your muscles milking him relentlessly. Your clit engorged and rubbed raw. You’re one unending, throbbing orgasm. Everything is wet and messy between the two of you, the gush of your lust sticky and clinging to the hair on his pelvis and thighs. Birdie, Birdie, Birdie, it’s like a prayer.

“Should’ve never left you alone in the dark, baby.”

He wants to break you, you're sure of it – to turn you into a creature reduced to only the virtue of his whims, ruled by the savaging of his cock. The very nectar of you pooling at his feet, leaking out of your pores under the unrelenting focus of his body and you know you won’t survive him. Not after this. But no, you realize, no, this is Joel breaking, not you. His fear is a living creature sharing the room with the two of you right now. Everything that’s ever held him away from you, everything he’s ever been too scared of to admit, lives and breathes with you in this moment. Like some sort of monstrosity crouched in the corner, bloody and frayed and wanting.

“Birdie, I love you. Birdie, Birdie, my Birdie,” he brands the words into your skin. “I was so scared—” searing kisses pressed to your face, your neck, your breasts, in the wake of his words.

Oh, this is it. Your heart, your heart, it’s going to burst, to cleave in two. He’s wrought a fracture through the core of your very being.

This will never mend.

The rhythm of his hips speeds up, becoming sloppy and stuttered – he’s close – and his grip transfers to your jaw, so tight and bruising; you’ll have the ghost of his fingers on your skin tomorrow. His cock kisses your womb with each brutal thrust, and he bares his teeth at you as he starts to come, the blazing wash of his spend filling you. “You’re gunna take all of my fucking come.” Anger and violence and all the feelings he wishes he didn’t have to experience, churn in his dark eyes. And you’d hold onto his anger soaked skin for the rest of your life if you could, if he’d let you. His eyes flick between yours, still holding your face, he ghosts his thumb over your wet bottom lip. “Birdie, I– I…” His hips are still moving, fucking his come deeper into your messy, used cunt. You see the realization of what he’s just said settle in his eyes, moving back and forth between yours, as if he’s watching him bare himself to you over again in their reflection.

You’re losing him, you can feel the tension – regret, please, please don’t be regret – slowly start to seep into him as soon as he’s finished, to steal him away from you, and you cling more desperately to him, pull his face to yours and press soft butterfly kisses across his cheeks and nose. Joel, Joel, Joel. Please, don’t. His eyes flutter closed – the image of you beneath him already too much to bear.

“Stop,” he growls. Again: “Stop,” and suddenly he’s ripping himself out and away from you. The loss of him from between your legs, so violently abrupt, is almost a physical pain. The emptiness after being so full leaves you clenching around nothing, pushing his come out of you, and embarrassment, shame, fills you so acutely – to have your sex bared to him like a wound he’s left you with. You shut your legs, clutch your knees to your chest and gasp for breath, almost a sob. You gouge your nails into the skin of your knees trying to draw blood – before he can. You know what’s coming.

“I didn’t mean… all that. I– fuck—” he spits, clutches his hand in his messy hair, “I– I got carried away.” He’s backing away from you – other hand outstretched as if to keep you away. As if he could keep the reality of his confession, the betrayal to his own self, away from him with just that outstretched hand.

You’re still on your back, vacant eyes trained towards the ceiling, sucking in painful gulps of air, but you register him from the corner of your eye, the look he wears – you can’t decide if he was more terrified at the possibility of you being ripped apart by the clickers, taken and brutalized by the hunters; or in this moment, if his fear is more acute now, in the wake of his fortuitous confession. At the risk of being laid bare and vulnerable at your feet; as you’ve lived at his since the moment he first took you.

“Okay,” you say – try to temper your voice, slow your breaths, remain quiet and calm. Only one of you can be overwhelmed by panic right now. And yet part of you wants to rage at him. Your heart beats painfully in your chest, and you want to say, it’s not like I’m asking you to open your vein and let me drink – only just to love me.

Birdie, I love you. Birdie, Birdie, my Birdie.

“Okay…” you say again, “I– it’s… it’s okay. I know.” You sit up slowly, your body throbs and aches, still not able to look at him – the sight of him so terrified of all you represent, it would burn you – but you feel his gaze like a brand across your skin. You wrap your arms around your naked breasts, shielding yourself. His own bloody shirt is askew, his pants still open, cock slick with your mingled come, still semi-hard. If this were any other moment you’d tease him – how are you still hard after all that?

You turn your head away, towards the door, a traitorous little tear escapes the corner of your eye, and you quickly wipe it against your lifted shoulder, press your fingers to your mouth to keep in the threatening sobs. One of his flannels is strewn across the ground and you toe it towards yourself. “It was the adrenaline.” Your voice is limp, dead. Diminishing this will be the thing to kill you, you’re sure of it. How can he expect you to turn away from the one thing you’ve wanted from him more than anything else?

Birdie, I love you. Birdie, Birdie, my Birdie.

You shrug on his shirt, and he’s still not said anything else, but you see him move to tuck himself into his jeans now. “I- I’m gonna get some water,” you mumble, give him a moment to recalibrate.

Chapter V

Netherfeildren Masterlist

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #FOG fic

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kgyeomiex · 1 year ago

Text

Distraction (M)

“I could not tell you if I loved you the first moment I saw you, or if it was the second or third or fourth. But I remember the first moment I looked at you walking towards me and realized that somehow the rest of the world seemed to vanish when I was with you.”

JYP has announced a new girl group in the company and you happened to be one of the members. The moment you signed in, that was the moment you were hoping to just focus on music and your career, but something gets in the way. A massive love triangle is what causes a bumpy road for you and your future.

Previous Parts:

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 //

Part 9 is here~

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Regardless of what you say, you will always get distracted by these boys. Jaebum and Mark tend to show up out of nowhere when you try your hardest to focus on your music...

A normal person would stand by their group and show their devotion and full attention to the music however in your case it’s different...

“Y/N, I was hoping I would bump into you,” Mark says, smiling right at you.

Right now, your brain was telling you to get away and focus on the big day but for some reason, your feet weren't moving.

“M-mark, what’s up?” Why did you just stutter... Great not only is your body ignoring your command, but now you can’t even speak to the boy.

“I don’t know if you’re busy, but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to get lunch with me... Just me,” Mark wanted to go eat with you? How on earth can you say no to that?

Even though you knew you should reject his kind gesture you just spoke without really thinking about your answer.

“Sure,” as soon as you said that you realized what you said, and you tried your hardest to smile instead of showing your shocked face.

Shit...

“Perfect... I just need to return this to Yugyeom but if you’d like you can meet me in the front,” Mark suggests, and instead of saying anything you nodded your head and continued to smile.

Okay clearly speaking wasn’t helping you out... Instead, it was making things more complicated for you.

“Great, I’ll see you soon,” Mark smiles and takes off.

Instead of even moving you stood there frozen trying to figure out what your plan was... Just a second ago you were talking about devoting all your attention to your career and not on boys. Crazy how your mindset was so quick to change...

Okay... Look at the situation this way. Mark and you were probably just going to eat and then from there split off in your directions.

Hopefully after spending some time with Mark, you can then focus on your music and less on boys....

Yeah... That sounds like a good idea. Will it work? To be honest I have no idea, but a girl can hope and dream.

“Jackson did what?” You couldn't help but laugh as Mark was trying to explain how Jackson ended up kissing Jaebum on the lips.

“It was by accident though... Just know that in interviews they will make you do unexpected things like where you have to pass papers around to other members by only using your lips...” You’ve always seen other idols do that and to be honest you always wanted to try it but at the same time no...

“Have you had an incident where you accidentally kissed one of your members?” You asked Mark as you reached in for your drink. He silently thought to himself and then looked at you.

“Okay maybe once or twice... But the whole purpose of the game is to prevent the paper from falling... The paper that these people write is horrible material and always ends up falling at the end,” you smiled, and then a question popped into your head.

“So, Mark tells me, who’s a better kisser?” You asked Mark teasing him and he laughed.

“It’s not like that,” the two of you suddenly began to laugh.

“Even if I did accidentally kiss one of the boys, I didn’t enjoy any of them,” Mark defended himself and you just smiled.

“Sure...”

Sitting in front of Mark and having lunch with him wasn’t bad. The two of you were just spending time with one another and laughing, you know what friends do.

“Hey Y/N... I know this is random, but I have a question,” Mark says, and before you could answer you grabbed a napkin and wiped your mouth before replying.

“What’s up?” You asked as soon as you finished chewing.

“I know I probably shouldn't ask a question like this, but I can’t help but be curious...” At first, you were confused. What kind of question was Mark planning to ask you but then you had an idea... It’s probably going to involve what happened back at the studio when you were being put on the spot in front of everyone.

“Ask away,” you had an idea of what this question was going to be, and even though you weren’t ready to answer you had to face it eventually.

“Do Jaebum and you possibly have a secret relationship?” Mark asks, looking directly at you.

Well, that was straightforward... There is nothing to hide because Jaebum and you aren’t even dating or anything. When you told the boys back at the studio that you don’t have a relationship with Jaebum or Mark you were serious about it.

The answer would be beyond different if the boys were to ask what your feelings towards them but since they didn’t you are fine.

“No Jaebum and I are just friends,” you said as you looked into Mark’s eyes, so he knew you were telling the truth.

“That’s good to hear,” you were about to ask him why but then suddenly a memory replayed in your head...

For a second you almost forgot that Mark confessed he liked you... You looked down at your plate of food and tried your hardest to contain your smile.

Eventually, silence appeared and the two of you were now sitting there eating not saying a single word to one another...

So were you two planning to stay quiet now...

“M-”

“Y-”

The both of you stopped talking and just smiled.

Things were starting to become complicated... After talking to Sana and hearing her advice you looked at Mark and then back at your food. You came to JYP to live your dreams, not look for boys...

This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You remember reading an article where DAY6 had 6 members in the beginning, but someone was kicked out after JYP found out he had a girlfriend.

If you continue to allow your feelings to get in the way you will get kicked out of the company before you can live your dreams.

“What do your plans consist of tomorrow?” Marks asks and you suddenly begin to move your food around not wanting to eat.

“Um well, tomorrow we will have our debut showcase. Then we have photoshoots and interviews so tomorrow will be a very busy day.” In the past couple of days, you have had a chance to spend time with the boys which led you to catch feelings for them... But after today you were going to be busy.

Maybe being busy was going to be a good thing. You weren’t going to have the urge to want to spend time with Jaebum and Mark... Maybe you’ll even get over this crush of yours.

“So will I not be able to see you?” Mark suddenly asks and at that moment the both of you make eye contact.

“I’m not sure....”

Comments like this made it hard to forget why you liked him.

“Well... I enjoyed this lunch, but I think it’s time for me to head back and practice until my feet fall off,” you said dramatically, and Mark smiled.

“Don’t overwork yourself, you do have a busy day head,”

You got up from your seat, grabbed your tray, and left while you could...

Comments like this make it hard for you to just “forget” you have a crush on Mark. He was sweet and considerate.

But sometimes you must sacrifice something for something else... When you look at things it's either you choose your dreams or some boy...

Dance practice was going well; however, you would be lying if you were to say you were distracted even if it was the slightest. What was worse about all of this was that you couldn’t talk to your members about it.

You were trying everything you could to ignore your thinking about Mark and focus on what was important... Tomorrow and your busy schedule.

“Okay everyone let’s take 5,” your leader says as she tries to catch her breath.

You all agreed. You walked over to a wall and instantly sat down.

“Y/N!” You looked over and noticed your bandmate Daeun sitting beside you.

“You know although we live together and practice, I feel like I haven’t spoken to you in forever,” it was true but so much has been going on. . .

“I know. But I mean with this debut coming up we’ve all been tired and busy,” you said, and she nodded her head.

She grabs her water bottle and looks at you.

“I know it’s none of my business but lately I noticed you’ve been looking pretty distracted, is everything alright?” You looked at her and began to contemplate with yourself.

Should you open up to Daeun about your situation or keep it to yourself?

You didn’t mean to keep secrets to any of your bandmates, but to be fair you weren’t close to them. Also, this included something that could involve a scandal if you don’t play your cards right and this can affect everyone.

You wouldn’t know how Daeun would feel if you told her about both Mark and Jaebum and how you may like them. . .

“I have been distracted, but it’s nothing concerning. . . Just worried about failing and disappointing everyone around me,” you decided to keep it vague and simple with your explanation.

“Well, girl you have nothing to worry about. Honestly, one thing I always tell myself and I will share with you is that there is no need to stress about the small things. Life has a way of figuring things out, everything happens for a reason.” Daeun says and you nod your head.

“But what if. . .You know something you want to do can affect others around you . . .”

After blurting that out, Daeun looked slightly concerned but instead of asking me what was up, she shrugged.

“Well, only you know what’s best for you. Sometimes you must be selfish and take the risk to make yourself happy before others.” You were surprised to hear advice like this from Daeun, but she was right.

Min-Seo suddenly called everyone back up and we continued to practice. . . After speaking to Daeun, you felt a little less distracted. . .

Everything happens for a reason, right?

You weren’t expecting any of this to take place. You were stuck in a weird position.

When you auditioned to become an idol and even got ACCEPTED you were so happy words could not describe the feeling you felt. You felt speechless, you felt like this was either a mistake or they were probably confusing you with someone else or you felt like you were dreaming...

You remember before your auditions you slept so little to make sure that your routine for your audition went well.

Now here you are about to debut but now you are distracting yourself.

Instead, you are here suddenly getting swayed by boys in this company.

It wouldn’t be much of an issue if JYP didn’t have the dating ban... But if you want to continue being an idol you have to literally push off your feelings and maybe even stop talking to them.

You have worked way too hard to get where you are now. On top of that, you began to recall all the stressful moments you had to endure while training. The harsh criticism you would receive, the whiplash attitude your coaches would give, and the overwhelming feeling you had to deal with...

Honestly, training was probably one of the hardest times you have ever experienced. Back in the dorm, you remember calling your mom and breaking down. You remember the number of times you considered quitting and going to a new root, but you didn’t allow yourself to quit.

Instead, you put on your big girl pants and knew you were going to debut sooner or later.

You worked too hard to suddenly throw all of this away.

Usually, dilemmas like this were a no-brainer but as you began to think.... What if you never feel this way with anyone else you ever meet?

You knew that this was probably just an excuse to avoid letting go of the person you were starting to like...

Were you really going to throw away something you worked so hard for over a guy?

Thinking of Mark was not helping... And weirdly enough you caught yourself even thinking about Jaebum.

You got back on your feet and shook your head.

Now it’s time to focus on what’s important.

After rehearsing the rest of the members were ready to call it a night to head back to the dorm and relax before the big day. However, due to all the distractions you have been experiencing, you decided to stay back to rehearse for an hour or two to make sure you got everything set for tomorrow.

After practicing the main track dance, you felt yourself out of breath. You sat on the floor and looked at yourself in the mirror.

“You got this!” you told yourself trying to tell yourself words of encouragement.

You can’t keep distracting yourself with the thought of these beautiful men. You worked way too hard to be where you are now... How are you going to let that escape through your fingers with just one minor mistake?

You got up and you heard your phone make a noise.

You walked over to your phone and picked it up.

To be honest you were expecting it to be one of your members telling you to head home and rest up for the big day but no...

The person who was texting you at 11 pm was Jaebum.

I heard you were still in the company, so I decided to come by and take you home :)

This text brought mixed feelings. One side of you was happy to receive a text from one of the boys themselves because, to be honest, you enjoyed having a conversation with them. HOWEVER, this is the type of distraction you were trying to avoid.

You brushed your fingers through your hair removing the hair from your face and took a deep breath.

Okay. . . What if you agree for Jaebum to walk you back to the dorm for one last time? That way once you debut you can forget about your friendship with the boys and look at the bigger picture. YEAH!

You texted Jaebum agreeing to his gesture and then put our phone to the side.

Let’s just practice one more time before you call it quits.

As you were dancing the last chorus you suddenly noticed a shadow creeping up by the dance studio door. You were going to stop to look back, but you couldn’t afford distraction. You assumed it was Jaebum so instead of looking back you continued to dance and lip sync not trying to miss a beat.

As you were on the floor doing a dance move, you noticed Jaebum walking in and then looked away looking at yourself in the mirror instead.

FOCUS.

Look at the bigger picture.

You continued to perform as if you were standing on stage in front of a big crowd, but you were tempted to look over and look at Jaebum.

Fortunately, the song was coming to an end.

As you were finishing the last set of dance moves, you posed as the music came to an end and you could hear Jaebum cheering.

You looked over and smiled.

You wanted to say something, but you needed to catch your breath.

Jaebum noticed how tired you were after that last dance, and he noticed your water bottle close by the dance studio window. He grabbed the water bottle, walked over to you and you looked at him.

“Thank you,” you grabbed onto the water bottle and then took a sip before you continued to talk to Jaebum.

After taking a sip, you looked at him.

“What brings you to the studio, shouldn’t you be home?” You asked him and he shrugged.

“We finished early with recordings, and I was told that you were still in the dance studio so I came to make an appearance.” you couldn’t lie you felt your heart warm up a little at the thought of Jaebum staying here to see you.

No.... You don’t like him. . . You think.

As you walked over to your bag you said “You didn’t have to stay, you could have gone home and rested. I’m sure you had a busy day,”

Jaebum shrugged and smiled.

“Waiting for you was no problem. . . I was hoping I had a chance to see you today,” as those words came out of Jaebum's mouth you looked over at him and couldn’t help but smile.

Comments like this are not helping whatsoever.

Sometimes you get curious and wonder if Jaebum was interested in you as a woman but then again maybe it’s better if you don’t know the answer to that.

Your brain and your feelings are in a complete battle. What the hell are you supposed to do?

You realized you were so lost in your thoughts you haven’t responded to Jaebum.

“Ah so you just wanted me to bug you more, well your wish is my command,” you teased Jaebum, and he laughed.

You couldn’t risk being flirtatious with Jaebum. You don’t know what kind of outcome comes with and right about now you didn’t want to put yourself in any kind of predicament. Now that you were trying your hardest to stay on the right path you knew you just had to friend-zone the man.

“What can I say, life becomes a little bit more exciting when I am with you,” Jaebum blurts out, and after hearing that you instantly avoid eye contact.

Oh no... He is making it harder and harder to not like.

“Sometimes I wonder if becoming an idol is worth all this trouble,” you confessed to Jaebum as you two strolled along the street side by side.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean the restriction we have when becoming an idol. We have to put up this facade to keep fans happy. We have to give them this illusion that we are perfect and happy all the time when in reality we are human like the rest of them. . .” You weren’t even an idol yet, but you already started to feel like the fame life was going to be harder than most people realize.

Right now, you seemed conflicted just because tomorrow was the big day. Although you haven’t been friends with Jaebum and Mark for that long, it’s felt like so much has been going on and you haven’t been keeping your eyes on the prize.

“I know what you mean, I think it’s normal for anyone to have that kind of thought. But in the end, you always think and look at the bigger picture. What do you want?”Jaebum asks you and you look at him.

“I really want to make sure tomorrow is a complete success. I didn’t go through blood sweat and tears getting criticized left and right just not to debut at the end. You know?”After getting advice from different people, you suddenly decided to make a decision.

It was now time to put your foot down. Although the past couple of days you have enjoyed the presence of both Jaebum and Mark, you knew it had to come to an end.

Well, you didn’t have to cut them off completely, but boundaries had to be made and you knew that you had to avoid ever letting things get deeper for example your feelings for each of them.

Bzzz

You opened your eyes, and you looked up at the ceiling.

For some reason, it felt like you didn’t sleep at all. The moment you got home you had a hard time falling asleep. You were so nervous yet excited about your showcase today. . .

The day had officially arrived. You were finally going to debut and make a name for yourself.

You sat up and felt a mix of emotions.

Today is going to be a good day. You weren’t going to let anything get in your way.

Just as you were planning to get up from the bed you suddenly heard a knock on the door. Min-See opens the door and peeks her head through the door.

“Y/N are you awake?” she must have heard your alarm but hasn’t seen you step out of your room.

“I’m awake,” you told her, and she smiled.

You could see how worried she appeared to be. You couldn’t blame her; the feeling was mutual. Although to be fair you all should be confident for today’s showcase, especially with the amount of practice you guys had.

Day’s like today you couldn’t afford any kind of distraction. You walked over to your mirror and took one look at yourself. Right about now it was time for a pep talk.

Today is the big day. After all the rejections, all the struggles, and all of the hard work you put in, today was the day you were going to finally show what you have been working hard on. Today was the day you could finally show your mom that all those tears you shed during the process were worth it at the end of the day.

However, it seemed like in the back of your head you had a slight fear appearing making you think about the what if. What if your debut isn’t as successful as you were hoping? What if people don’t find interest in your group? What if this love triangle you seem to be in becomes far harder than it has been?

You could feel your mind filled with so many different thoughts, but you were trying your hardest to keep yourself together. This is fear talking.

Today was a big day for your group and you and you weren’t going to let anyone take that away from you.

As you were in the dressing room getting your makeup done, you were thinking about the lyrics to your own song and the choreography over and over. Today was the day you couldn’t afford any kind of mistake.

The makeup artist instructs you to close your eyes and begins to apply eyeshadow. Suddenly you hear the door open and the staff in your room saying hello to whoever came through the doors. Without thinking twice, you opened your eyes and there you see Mark walking in with a basket in his hand.

Seeing Mark gave you mixed feelings. One side of you was happy to see the fact that Mark cleared his busy schedule just to come down here and wish you luck. . . Like, let’s be honest what kind of guy does that? And then the other side of you isn’t very happy to see Mark just because you knew he could be a big distraction... Can you see the dilemma?

“Mark?” Your makeup artist pulled away from doing your makeup and smiled.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to talk to your friend,”

You thanked your makeup artist and then continued to look at Mark.

“Surprise,” he says as he approaches you with the basket in his hand.

“Surprise is right. . . What brings you down here?” You asked him and just as Mark was about to speak up, he was cut off when someone else walked through the door.

Another person you weren’t expecting to see was right there in front of you. Of course... Jaebum also made an appearance.

What the hell do you do now?

To Be Continued...

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