#painting is tuff

[mollusken]

this isnt done but man ive been painting this all day and. its a process.....

[turtleplushi]

Got bored (without text under the read more thingy)

[charetchi]

happy bwepsgiving yall

[slggsh]

moon goddess ☾

[autistickfigure]

THOGUHTS

[adiadagaki]

How Megumi kisses you

Clasping onto the tuffs of Megumi's hair you yanked, needing to be free of his lips for one second to suck in some air. Any air.

Megumi refused, drawing you right back in, kissing that cherry lip gloss of your lips just like he had wanted to all day.

His lips were persistent as they devoured you, his tongue dipping into your mouth to swirl with your tongue which was growing increasingly compliant. To him you tasted so fucking sweet and after being deprived of you all day there was no way he couldn't feast on your lips until they were raw.

Maybe you'd learn not to paint your lips with glosses that sent him feral in public. They should be reserved for your room where he can kiss it right off your lips when he pleases.

Like he is now.

"Megs please." You gasped against his lips, a flush crawling up your chest at how passionately he was kissing your lips. The touch was so loving and needy it was difficult to ask him to stop. But you needed to breathe.

Ignoring you, he grabbed your face, pulling you deeper into him. He wasn't ready for this to be over yet. He didn't think he ever would be. But there was still air left in his lungs and more kisses for his lips to give.

And what fragments of breath you did possess fizzled out when he began to grind up against you, his clothed cock bumping your cunt.

Moaning softly you succumbed to your boyfriends incessant desire, holding his hair fast and pressing your pussy against him.

[leclsrc]

wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k  

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I��m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

[yeyinde]

OK but i need to know if price allows his wife to trim his beard …can you please write a drabble on it to feed my price addiction

Oh, absolutely!! I bet it’s easier for him to have someone he trusts cut his hair for him. His beard, though—I imagine he grooms it himself (too many oh, sir, you should cut it this way—), and he prefers a straight razor over a blade. If he really, really trusts you, he'll let you do it for him, but he's been grooming his beard since he was 28, and so. No one does it better than he does. 

His hair, however? He considers it a free cut.

》 WARNINGS: Um. Just some domestic bliss, really. Bantering. Allusions to sexual content, PTSD, and trust issues (not as serious as it sounds; just briefly mentioned). This is basically just gratuitous fluff. This was written with absolutely no discernible characteristics for the Reader—gender-neutral reader 》 WORD COUNT: 1,9k

"Hold still."

"Holdin' as still as I can, love."

His words are thick—little more than a grumble rasped into the collar of his shirt, distorted from the tilt of his head, chin resting on his sternum. 

To someone else, his tone might be misconstrued as waspish; a scathing snap sawed between his clenched teeth, and coloured in a thick paint of impatience. 

But you know him more than most, and the huffiness of his tone only serves to amuse you. 

(Your irascible man.)

Still. 

Your fingers snake through the overgrown locks on the top of his hand until you have a fistful trapped tight between each of your digits, and then you tug just so. A warning. Not enough to hurt him, of course, but enough that it makes him tense—makes him groan. 

His voice loses the surly pinch, and sounds decidedly breathless—a fact that makes you stifle a grin. 

"Gonna start somethin' you can't finish, you bloody minx."

"Gonna cut your skin if you don't stop wriggling around," you volley back. 

He huffs, shoulders slumping down with his sharp exhale. "Just get on with it. Getting stiff sittin' like this."

You ease off the clutch of his hair, but keep the locks between your fingers, eyeing the length, before nodding to yourself, and bringing the scissors close to the tuffs spilling out. 

The snipping sound of the shears cutting through his hair fills your small washroom. His shoulders seem to relax, if only slightly, as you work. 

You cut the locks between your pinky and ring finger shorter than the rest, and wince. 

"You know," you murmur, brows furrowing as you try to gauge whether or not it's passable enough to be overlooked, or if you'll need to cut all of it shorter to match. "You could go to a barber. A professional."

He grunts. You know what he's going to say before he says it, and you wordlessly mimic the words that leave his lips:

"Cheaper this way, ain't it?" He drops his chin when you nudge his head. 

Cutting his hair has become a small tradition between you, one that started a few months into your relationship when he showed up at your door, three hours late to a planned date with a bucket hat on his head, and a package of forget-me-nots in his hand (seeds, he said, because flowers will wilt and die in a day but if you plant them in your garden, they'll regrow forever). His hair was longer than usual, curling just under his chin, and the sight of him—so frazzled and unkempt compared to how put together he normally was—made something inside of you ache.

He'd rushed here as soon as he could, complaining that his flight was delayed, and his barber quit on him, and all the while, your fingers itched with the urge to run them through his overgrown locks, to feel the silken hair against your palm. 

(To grip tight and not let go.)

The words slipped out with very little conscious thought: I can cut it for you. 

He seemed almost caught off-guard, but the obvious discomfort of having his hair tickle the nape of his neck made his acquiescence much easier. 

You discovered that night just how much you liked having his hair in your hands, and he seemed to realise that fucking you against the wall, while you tugged on his freshly cut hair, in lieu of payment was much more preferable than dealing with a barber. 

"No," he grouses. "They're always goin' on 'bout undercuts, and tryin'a get me to shave my chops, and I ain't dealin' with that when I 'ave you." 

"Free labour?" 

"Hardly." He scoffs. "Gonna break my damned back one of these days, you bloody—"

"—hold still, love," the stolen endearment makes him shudder, but he quiets when you rest the flat of the blade over the crest of his ear, cutting the overgrown hair around his sideburns. "That's it. Good boy."

"Keep playing with me, love, and I'll show you who's a good—" 

Another tug. His scorching words taper off into a growl. 

"You don't seem to complain much when you pull me in for another round—ah, ah—" You tug his hair again when he moves, fighting a wide grin. The plastic handles of the scissors slide back until it arches off the back of your hand, thumb brushing the loose hair from behind his ear. "God, you're so stubborn. You want to get cut, don't you?"

"Trust you not to leave me a bloody mess by the end of this." 

With his chin dipped so far down into his collar, his words are honey-thick and robust, and the deep cadence alone makes your toes curl in your slippers. 

"Trust me that much, hmm?" 

Despite the transparent barb, the tease in your slightly breathless tone, he doesn't hesitate. "With my life." 

"Aren't you a charmer?" 

"Almost done? I'll show you how charming I can be—"

"Nearly. Would've finished an hour ago if you'd keep still."

He grumbles again, but the words are swallowed by the snip of the scissors. An impasse blooms in the scant space between your front, and his broad back. Comfortable, like all silences with him have become. Despite your griping, cutting his hair is soothing—intimate in a way you'd never come to expect it to be. 

It might be the explicit trust he places in your hands when you direct him to tilt his chin for you at a mere tap against his jaw, or the crown of his head. Wordlessly following your commands as soon as they're conveyed. 

To anyone else, such a display is commonplace, but you've been through the thick of everything to know that exposing his neck in such a vulnerable way to you, and so soon after a mission, is more meaningful than any declaration of trust could ever be. The innate drive to protect his fragile pieces from harm often leads to him flinching away from the sharp end of the shears, but it diminishes just as quickly as it rears, and he sits, docile and accommodating, for you. Allowing you this minuscule power over him. 

Maybe that's why he refuses to see a barber, opting to let you chop his hair in whichever style you deem attractive instead. Explaining to someone else why he's so tense, why he sometimes can't stifle the small jerk when cold metal kisses the nape of his neck, seems tiresome. The unneeded opening of a barely healed scab. 

It was a battle getting him to open up to you, to let you invade his space, and squeeze through the splinters in his resolve when it became clear that you weren't going anywhere that wasn't with him. 

The thought of it alone warms you. The ache in your joints from holding your hands still, cutting through the thick tufts of hair, feels like a small burden in comparison to what he's shown you with this. 

It's been barely five hours since he touched down at Heathrow. His duffle bag is still packed. His fatigues are still on. He hadn't even showered off the stench of the mission, or scoured the blood and dirt from between his nails, and yet—

You tap his cheek. His head lifts, and then lists to the side. The smooth curve of his neck is exposed. His exterior vein throbs through his sun-kissed skin. 

Affection blossoms in your chest. 

"Missed you." 

The words are barely a whisper, but his eyes peel open, icy blue finding yours as you lean over him, getting the last patch of hair near his temple. 

John says nothing in response, but he doesn't have to. You see it all—feel it. The vein in his neck throbs more intensely as his heart rate picks up, and that alone is more than an echoed sentiment in return. It's enough. 

But still:

His hand lifts with a deliberate slowness until the pads of his fingers kiss your wrist. He burns red-hot—skin just as fiery as his temper—and the warmth of his rough skin bleeds into you when he wraps his full palm over your arm, thumb brushing your flesh in a distinct pattern. 

When you recognise it, you falter. 

It isn't quite Morse code, but it's something he taught you on the eighth date when you asked if the wordless hand signals were accurate in the movie you'd just seen. His hand found yours as he led you out of the theatre, and down the cold, wet streets of Liverpool. 

"No," he snorted, derisively. And then spent the three blocks back to your flat showing you the different commands they used in the SAS, and the ones he taught his men. "If you can, skin on skin is better. Less likely to be seen. We save it for hostage situations. Like this—"

Blisteringly intense cerulean never wavers from yours as he lets you feel the words he rasps over your skin. 

You try not to tremble with the shears pressed too close to his skin, and quietly pull them away. He watches as you place them on the ledge of the vanity, hand never releasing yours. 

You brush the loose hair from his shoulders, trying to hide a smile.

"All done." 

John hums, the noise a crackling ember that fills the hush in the room, and notches between your ribs where it sticks against your thudding heart. 

"What's the verdict?"

"Why don't you see for yourself?"

Loose hair falls from his shoulders when he stands until it dusts across the tile below his feet. He leans over the sink, shaking his head above the basin, before settling, angling his chin as he takes in your shoddy handiwork. 

"Looks good."

You snort. "Sure. I'll have to go over it once you finish showering because someone wouldn't sit still long enough for me to clip around your crown, and—"

He turns to face you, and the playful diatribe is cut off when his warm palms fit against your hips. It's his turn to tug, and he does so with a sharp jerk of his wrists, pulling you taut to his chest. 

His eyes bore down into yours, mirthful blue. "Yes, yes," his eyes roll briefly toward the ceiling, lips curling into a soft smirk. "But someone kept tryin'a clip my ears, and pullin' on my hair."

"Someone, eh?" You volley coyly, reaching up, and curling your fingers into the bristles of hair spilling from his cheeks. 

At your gentle touch, his expression shifts to contemplative. His chin tilts when your nails graze his skin. 

"You like my beard, don't you?" 

Your brow lifts in question. "Yes, you know I do. Why? The boys making fun of you for it?"

"Gaz said I looked like an Edwardian lord—" you snort at the comparison. He pinches your side. "Watch it."

"Is that all?"

"Soap said they're grabable."

"Yeah, they are," you purr, taking in as much as you can in your fists. "Very steerable, too. But why is Soap concerned about that?"

"Said someone could grab 'em. Drag me by 'em, and—"

"Like his mohawk?"

He concedes your point with a flash of teeth. "You don't think I need to trim 'em?"

"And lose my handlebars? No way—"

His darken. "Dirty little thing, aren't you?" 

"For you? Always." 

"Mmm," he tilts his chin down, and presses his mouth to yours, teeth nipping your bottom lip. "Insatiable little minx."

"You love it." 

"You know I do." His hands tighten on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh. When you peer up at him, his pelagic gaze turns turbid with desire. "Now, about your payment…"

[dwntwn-strnlo]

jackass. [m.st.]

── ⟡˙ ̟ hockey!matthew sturniolo x gn!reader

↳ synopsis. — matt gets into a fight while on the ice

↳ a/n. — getting all my female rage out in this fic bc of ex pookie

↳ requested? — no

↳ cw. — really long, tuff guy matt, profanity, physical fighting, mentions of blood/scarring, slight angst, "y/n" used, verbal argument, un resolved ending (sorry lily 🫶)

"you can't expect to get everything you want, y/n."

"all i expect is for you to not be a fucking jackass."

running your hand through your hair, you began growing nervous. you can see that matt was growing more and more agitated the longer he was on the ice, and luckily chris had caught on enough to the point where he kept looking at you curiously.

once you got a text from nick, whom was currently in the locker room had he just gotten off the ice, you knew you and chris weren't going crazy simultaneously. he had asked you if you knew what was up, and that matt had supposedly been perfectly fine before the game.

watching matt carefully as he runs across the ice, he steals the puck and heads for the goal. finally relaxing, you stand up along with the rest of the crowd, fueling on excitement for your boyfriend.

as he nears an appropriate spot to shoot, his feet get kicked out from under him. luckily he catches himself, but he lost the puck. his eyes grow wide when he finds the kid on the opposing team who illegally knocked matt over, taking the puck back.

you started to panic as matt started to panic. it looked as if his mind was racing and then flatlined in the matter of a second. not processing it as he skates up to the kid in red, body checking him to the ice.

it takes seconds for matt to land on top of him, punching him in the nose and dripping blood onto the ice. he's only able to land one punch before chris is pulling him back up to his feet. it takes everything in matt not to push off his brother in fear that he'd get dragged into the fight.

chris drags matt back several feet, trying to get him to cool off. but the kid with the last name miraz stitched on the back comes flying forward, blood dripping down his nose and rage painted on his face.

he throws a punch to matts cheek, cutting it quick enough to hit him again in the nose before the ref pulls him back.

"matthew sturniolo, 5 minute penalty for fighting." the ref calls out over the speakers. "cameron miraz, 5 minute penalty for fighting. 2 more for instigating."

"fuck." you whispered to yourself. not sure whether or not you should be pissed or concerned. eyeing the clock, you find that intermission is in a short time, so you believe that'll be your nearest chance to talk to matt.

matt skates over to the penalty box, face still hot in anger. he pulls his helmet off and drops his head back before looking ahead again. finding chris pointing his pointer finger at him, clearly annoyed, but still washed with concern for his brother. you can't distinguish what words hes using to scold matt, but you can tell it pisses him off.

you can't seem to keep your eyes on the ice for the rest of the period, your eyes stuck on the coffee-haired boy with his arms crossed over his chest.

soon enough he's let back out on the ice, though there's only a minute and a half left. you can tell his body is less frustrated, but it doesn't shake the fact that he just hit someone.

as the clock hits its final seconds, you stand up, walking down to the locker rooms to wait impatiently for you boyfriend to enter.

as the buzzer sounds, the team starts flooding in heading off into the locker room for intermission. looking seemingly defeated by the currently tied game. this game could go either way, and that's leaving them on edge.

matt's one of the last people off the ice, following closely behind chris in silence. chris meets your eyes with a shrug before disappearing into the locker room.

you're quick to grab matt, pulling him towards you-carefully as he still has his blades on.

there's still dried, as well as slightly fresh blood on his face from where he was hit in the nose and on his cheekbone. you figured that one would scar if he didn't get it taken care of soon. his emotions looked mix, leaving you struggling to figure out what he's thinking.

"matt." your murmured, trying to get his light blue eyes to meet yours. "hey, look at me." your voice was low and demanding, but you couldn't help but let it stay laced with panic.

his eyes slowly meet yours, his lips pressed in a firm line. he doesn't want to talk, and normally you'd respect that but right now you're worried and pissed and just want to make sure that he's okay.

"what's your problem?" you bit, crossing your arms over your chest.

matt looked taken back, astonished even that you came at him like that. "what are you talking about." he furrowed his brows, eyes finally glued on yours.

"baby this is your third fight this season, they're going to fucking suspend you." you sounded harsh, but you felt as if it was necessary in the moment to try and knock some sense into him.

he crossed his arms too, mirroring your image. "why do you care if i get suspended? that's not going to effect you."

letting out a breath of air, you squeezed your eyes shut for several seconds. "because you're my boyfriend, and i love and care about you." you mumbled, "i know that getting suspended would effect you, and i don't want to see you in a position like that."

"you can't expect to get everything you want, y/n." he whispered, his voice dropping significantly. struggling to find a place in his heart to argue with you about this.

"all i expect is for you to not be a fucking jackass." you snapped.

matt's eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing. trying to find the right words to say. he suddenly felt small under your hot gaze, though he was significantly larger in his hockey equipment.

pressing your lips together in a line, you started to feel bad, but you still had a point to get across. "i don't know what happened today, but you're at the point where you need to learn to walk away and be the bigger person." you said, trying to meet his eyes again, which now dart around the hall. looking everywhere but you.

"he fucking tripped me." he mumbled, looking at your for a single second.

"so?" you queried. "you play hockey for gods sake. you get tripped all the time."

he squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a breath of air before looking at you again. "i'm not gonna stand here and listen to you beat down on me." he said, his voice wary. "if you don't wrap it up i'm going back and we can talk about this later." he hushed, gesturing to the locker room.

staying silent, you try thinking about what to say. clearly he doesn't want to listen to you right now, and you want to respect that. you stare at him intently, eyes drifting down to the still slightly bleeding gash on his cheek.

"get that cleaned up, and good luck with the rest of the game." you mumbled, waiting for a response before you walk off.

matt nods, and you step away, nearing the corner when he speaks up. "i love you, baby." he says.

"i love you too..." you turn your head to look at him, mumbling the same words back before disappearing around the corner.

TAGLIST

@thetriplets3 @stxrniqlo @ifilwtmfc @iha8you @oneirophobic @20nugs @gracietaylorsversions @fenoy7 @mlimmm @prettysturniolo @ssturniolo @gabbylovesreading @oh-toseewithoutmy-eyes @matthewmurdockswife @jellybeanbby @slaysturniolo @iheartshifting @mxqdii @luvsturniolo @lvrsparadise @partoftoofuckinmanyfandoms

[httpscomexe]

Runaway

Summary: You’re a mutant, a hybrid actually, and hybrids are big in the market. So when the x-men find you, you’re considered a priority.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Hybrid!Reader

Warnings: Mutant trafficking, violence, descriptions of gore, kidnapping, death, blood, language, alcohol, some drug mention. (Individual warnings per chapter)

Word Count: 4125 (Find all chapters here) CH2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

“Hey. Come on out.”

You’ll never understand why everyone hated mutants. Everyone found them disgusting, revolting, a descendant of satan. It was bad, the way the world was turning out. They wanted mutants either murdered or locked up, as if you didn’t all have emotions just like every other being. You had them stronger, but we’ll get to that later.

You were scared to go into public, your trust for humankind growing thinner as every day passed by. You really thought they were all horrible. That was until you met the best human on the planet.

Matthew.

He was into the whole “you’re created the way you are for a reason,” and “All lives matter, even the mutants.” He even had a whole hippie van, a Volkswagen to be specific. Painted a sky blue with a little rainbow design on the front bumper to show he meant peace.

You occasionally go out with your friends, and they’d smoke week and drink whiskey while you stared into the fire. Only joining them when they “meditate to lift their spirits and become one with God.” Whatever that meant. But he didn’t want you to let them know you were a mutant. Apparently he didn’t want to cause a scene or make a big deal out of it. You found it sweet at first, but after a few months of it happening, you wanted it to stop. You wanted his friends to just accept you for the way you were. A mutant.

You weren’t a vicious mutant. You’d never hurt anybody in your life. Well. You have. On accident.

But he didn’t know about that. He knew you were an introverted mutant that wanted nothing to do with the world. Sometimes you’d want to just end your pain and misery, but that would only boost every human's ego, and kill the mutants.

You’ve thought about leaving without a word also, maybe even going to the ‘X Mansion’ at some point, but you weren’t sure that they would accept you.

You were more than a mutant, you’ve been told that enough times before.

You’re a freak.

You were born wrong.

Your parents knew you were going to be born a mutant. The tail and large ears on your scan showed that, but they still had you, even knowing you would be tortured the rest of your life.

You’ve been in and out of rings, forced to fight other mutants, but you’re always immediately bought by another rich fuck. Apparently your cute little deer tail and big ears were sexually arousing for them.

But you’ve gotten lucky, always being bought out by another rich old white dude who offered more money to the last.

You also got lucky when the last guy had a heart attack, old age got to him. So you got away, and you met Matthew.

Matthew.

He spoiled you. Buying everything you loved, and everything you showed him. He loved you. Adored you for who you are. You were happy. You really believed that not every human was bad, that maybe there were some good people in the world.

Money was more important to him in the end though.

When you told him you weren’t ready to have sex with him, he was more than just angry…

“You fucking bitch!” You scream as his hand collided with your cheek, the force sending you to the floor, landing hard on your ass, bending your little tuff of a tail. “After everything I’ve fucking done for you, you can’t even just fuck me once!?” He shouts down at you before grabbing your fluffy ear, pulling you back up to your feet. “Fuck it, you little fucking freak, I’m calling mutant control.” Tears were already streaming down your face, and you didn’t have it in you to bother crying for him not to call them, the line was already ringing on his phone, the sound was distant but yet it felt so loud in your ears as he explained that a mutant with a tail and large ears was in his apartment. Then you heard it.

“Oh good, someone finally found my doe…”

You’d recognise the voice from anywhere.

“I’ll offer you 32 million.”

Of course, he never got the money. Instead, he received a bullet to the head, and he got to be meat for some dogs. Part of you felt bad, but whatever.

That brought you to now though. Curled up in the back of a dog kennel, a red collar around your neck with a little taser on it if you didn’t behave.

“Hey, come on out.” The voice tells you. The man dressed in black had a large gun on him, the same one every other guy was wearing. “I said come out!” He raises his voice, and it startles you, making you basically lunge out of the cage and he quickly pulls you to your feet and shoves you forward.

It was feeding time. And of course, they made fun of you by throwing a large bowl of freshly picked greens in front of you on the table. AKA, grass from the front yard.

How funny.

So no, you haven’t eaten since you got there, about 5 days ago. But you weren’t the only mutant who was in the warehouse. There were about 15 others, each of them with unique abilities or as the humans would call them, “Deformations.”

There was a guy you got along with, his name was Peter. Or that was the name you gave him. His skin was scaly like a lizard, and his tongue was naturally split, his pupils horizontal. He was an animal mutant, just like you.

Alongside him were a few other mutants, one that spat fire, his tongue always taped shut. A girl that could see into people's minds, a blindfold on her eyes.

Everything that you were all born to do was restricted, your powers all held back.

“Eat you fucking animal.” The man nudges you with his gun, but you continue to slouch over, ignoring him. “I said fucking eat!” He smacks the side of your head, and tears threaten to fall. “Fuck it.” He mumbles, grabbing a handful of the grass, little pebbles of dirt still attached to it before attempting to shove it into your face, trying to force you to eat the fucking earth.

“Let, GO!” You shout, pushing him as hard as you could, then picking up the bowl and slamming it over his head. But just before he could knee you in the stomach…

“You fucking-“

“Hey, don’t hurt that one.” The Russian voice comes to the fucking rescue. Again.

He’s wearing the same robe, basically a KKK onesie with a red line down the middle, along with his stupid fucking hat that made him look like a pedophilic blinged out pastor. You were sure he wasn’t allowed near schools.

“This one is my prized possession.” He stops in front of you, and you swear he’s gained a few inches in height. You wouldn’t doubt he wore heels. “Isn’t she just adorable, so feisty for a little deer.” He chuckles, and you want to punch him, but you instead clench your fists at your sides. His hand reaches up to stroke your ear, something you’ve grown to hate. And after a moment, he tugs it, forcing you to your knees, ignoring your pained cry as he continues to hold your fluff tight in his fist. “Okay little girl, I’ve had just about enough of you… if you want to starve, then fucking starve…!” He growls, throwing you to the side, and not a moment passes before two large hands from different men are gripping your arms and taking you back to your room, quickly tossing you in your cage.

“What’s in here?” The voice sounded young, a woman. Not a voice you’ve ever heard before. But it startles you awake. “I don’t see anything.”

“Wait what’s that?” You sit up, pressing your back against the metal of the cage.

“Take the cover off.” Some footsteps approach your confinement, and your ears pin to the back of your head. If you were a dog, your tail would surely be tucked between your legs as a hang grips the plastic sheet covering your cage, and they move the cover away from the front of the kennel, slowly so as not to scare whatever was inside.

“Is there anything?” You scoot further to the back of the cage, not wanting anything to do with whoever it was, you couldn’t see any of their faces. The bright light behind them was only casting a silhouette in front of you. The one who opened the cage, a man, was huge. He was at least 6 feet, and his hair seemed to peek in two places like kitty ears.

“Yea, a hybrid.”

“A vicious kind?”

“I have no idea, you look.” He steps aside, and another person steps forward, a woman with red hair. “Hey there, we're not gonna hurt you.” She tells you, using a key to unlock your cage. But you still don’t trust it, moving further against the back of the cage, you were sure there would be lines on your back from the pattern of the cold metal. “Hey, hey, hey…” She speaks softly, trying to calm you, but you weren’t going to give in. Not again. “We’re here to help you…” She opens the cage door slowly, and gets onto her knees to appear smaller. But you don’t move, you only seem to compress yourself further against the grate, and you see her sigh. “Hey can you dim the lights so she can see us better Ororo?” She turns around, asking another woman about the lights, which she swiftly moves to adjust the lights. Now you could see all four of them clearly.

The girl in front of you had red hair, she was pretty, and she was wearing a blue and green suit. Ororo had white hair, along with a matching white suit. Then there was a man standing near her, also wearing some tight spandex looking suit, but he also had goggles on his eyes, it stood out at his other features. But then there was the larger man. His little cat ears were just his hair, combed to sit like ears.

“We’re mutants too…” She tells you, staring into your eyes. Your ears are still pinned to the back of your head, you didn’t care that they were mutants, you’ve been betrayed enough. “Sweetie, we need you to come out…” She holds her hand out, and you flinch, making her flinch also. She was scared of you too. “Logan, we’re gonna have to grab her.” What? You look around frantically, but of course, you didn’t have anything to use as a weapon.

The man you assume named Logan walks up to the cage as the orange haired girl backs away, then the other man with the goggles speaks.

“Wait.” Logan stops, turning around to look at him.

“What?”

“Maybe just back away from the cage, she might feel more comfortable that way.” He tells Logan, and you all watch as he slowly backs away, all of them creating some distance between the cage and their bodies, Ororo blocking the door in case you try running.

You hesitate at first, but you slowly move to all four, cautiously crawling out and your ears twitch slightly, listening for any sound of movement as your eyes dart back and forth between the group. As soon as you’re out of the cage, you begin to stand to your feet. You were smaller than them. Much smaller. But you’re smaller than everyone, you were an animal hybrid after all.

And you weren’t just a deer, you’re a fawn.

You look between them, and they can tell you’re still scared. Your ears weren’t as low as before, but your body still stood stiff.

“So you’re a deer hybrid?” The voice comes from your right, Ororo. She crosses her arms to appear less threatening before she takes two steps towards you. But you don’t back away, you only tilt your head curiously. “Are you able to speak? Can you understand us?” She stops about a foot from you, and you nod your head slightly, still not sure about them, but your trust was growing for Ororo. “What’s your name?”

“Who are you guys?” You finally whisper, your throat sore from not talking for too long.

“We’re X-men. We’re here to save you, and the other mutants in this warehouse. Have you heard of the X-Mansion?” You nod, and cross your arms over your chest. You’ve never bothered with the X-Mansion, always figured it was some sort of trap for mutants. Hell, the four people standing around you didn’t look like mutants.

You look around the room again, your eyes only stopping when they land on Logan. You recognize him now. He’s the Wolverine. And you weren’t sure why, but you seemed to be… attracted to him. Not romantically, but just attracted. You suddenly felt safe as you looked up at him, not even realising it when you took a few steps closer to him, your tail wagging just once, a natural indication that you were at ease, something of course that only deer do.

Apparently, you made it obvious that you felt safer around him. It wasn’t the tag wag, the ears coming up, or the way your pupils filled the entire shape of your eye when you were excited. It was clinging onto him suddenly. Throwing your arms around his waist and holding onto him like your life depended on it. Which honestly, I probably did.

He wasn’t excited for the mission, he wasn’t nervous for the mission. He just wanted to get the mission over with. Obviously, he cares about the people he saves, the mutants. He’s gone on hundreds of missions before, considering his age. So another rescue mission, only 15 mutants, was nothing big to him.

He got into his suit, pulling the yellow costume over his body until it settled nicely before working on his boots, lacing and tying them tight.

“Are you excited for the mission? I heard these mutants are a bit more unique.” Ororo asked him, crossing her arms and staring at him from the doorway as she leaned against the wall, watching as a puff of smoke leaves Logan's lips, the thick cig in his mouth about halfway done.

“You’re saying that like we're opening a pack of pokemon cards, Ororo.” His voice is gruffy. He had just woken up, being told he was replacing another person who wasn’t feeling well. He wasn’t up for it, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

“We basically are.” She shrugs, taking a step into his room, putting the pad of her index finger on one of the knife's Logan had displayed on his desk. “I mean we don’t know what kind of mutants were getting, but if we get one powerful enough, we use them in battle. One smart enough we use them in the mansion, one special enough…” She pauses, sighing slightly. “We don’t let them go.” She finishes with a smile, pulling her finger back, a spot of dust now lying on her dark skin. “So yea, we’re basically opening a card pack.”

“Well, hopefully the enemy doesn’t have a Mewtwo wrapped around their fingers.” He groans as he picks up a bag on his ground, tossing it into his bed before zipping it open and looking for his favourite dagger.

“You know Pokemon characters?”

“I’ve been alive for 200 years, of course I know a few.” He tells her, it felt like more of an admission though as he finds his favourite dagger. A silver one, adorned with yellow diamonds, an engraving of a Wolverine on one side of the blade, on the other side was a girl's name next to his, right after it the word ‘forever’ was carved into the silver. The sight made him sick, not out of disgust or anger, but out of sadness as he remembered the girl.

The love of his life.

She was gone. Another person he loved, that he let down that day…

“Hey, are you still there?” Ororo knocks on his skull like a door. “Where’d you- oh-” He shoves past her, not bothering to engage in conversation with her just yet.

The jet lands with a jolt, everyones body rocking slightly with the impact on the ground.

“We’re here!” Scotts voice announces from the front, shortly after, Jane is walking ahead of him and to the door of the jet where she puts in a code on the wall's keypad, unlocking the door which hums as it opens.

The smell wasn’t exactly what Logan had expected when the door opened to vast woods, some night animals scurrying away at the sight of the four mutants. He expected the smell of wood, leaves, maybe even some animal scat or death. But that’s not what he picks up at all, he finds something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He can tell none of the others could smell it.

Animals. And not just any animals. There were lizards, birds and a few others. Most hybrids were reptiles or birds, the normal. Then there was something different. Some sort of… mammal. He’s never met another mammal.

They find the warehouse door, two men with large weapons standing at the entrance, cameras at every angle. He knew some of the cameras were props, only set up to scare people. Only one of the outside cameras actually worked, which made sneaking into the front entrance incredibly easy, the only obstacle being the two men.

Once they were in, the four of them searched the building.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be in here!” A group of the men, all dressed in tactical gear we’re lined up with their guns pointed at the four of them.

“Give us the mutants, and we won’t have to kill you all.” Jean steps forward, Logan's claws extracted slightly, Scott begins reaching up, and Ororos fingers twitch. The mens guns lift slightly.

“This is your last warning, leave the building, or we will be forced to shoot!” He puts his hand up, fingers out and flat, telling his men not to shoot yet.

“Okay, you asked for this.” Was the only warning they receive before Jean throws all of them against the walls, some of the dropping their guns.

Scott lasers a few of them, taking his time as a few of them get punches to the throat, and Ororo creates a fog that blankets the entire room, hiding the real weapon.

Logan moves through the fog, slitting throats and cutting legs to make men fall to the ground. One of the men, a little harder to kill, manages to block one of Logan's punches, his claws becoming lodged inside of the man's forearms, emitting a loud scream from his throat as Logan attempts to pry his claws out of the man's arms, he keeps moving, also trying to pull away, which only made his pain worse. As the flesh in his arms turns to a thick jelly continues to move back and forth with the six claws, the metal begins sawing through the man's arms, the sound could only be described as a dull knife cutting through an orange with bones, blood splattering everywhere everytime the man would move, his vitality soaking the worn tactical jacket like a wet sponge, dripping down onto the floor and covering Logans white shirt with a crimson pulp, and it soaks into the concrete below them like rain. Then the man's limbs seem to disconnect, only held on by the thin of his skin and some severed flesh. The man screams with tormented pain, the fog seeming to move to his breath leaving his mouth as it swirls to the sound, to Logan's annoyance, he ends the man's screams with another claw to the throat, his body falling to the ground with a loud thump before Logans moves onto the next man, killing them all off until there was no one left.

“Are they all dead?” Ororo shouts as she dissipates the fog, leaving a humid scent to the air.

“I think so?” Logan answers, checking his shirt and grunting when he realises its soaked in blood, making the rotten liquid stick to his skin.

“Fuck Logan, think you over did it a little?” Scott motions his hands toward the floor, another man is sitting on his knees, seemingly attempting to scoop up his organs, intestines spilling out of his stomach like an overfilled spaghetti bowl.

“He’s fine.”

“He’s not gonna be fine.” The man continues to try holding in his organs and intestines, eventually falling onto his side, curling up and hugging his large intestine into his belly, as if it would help.

“Well now he’s not fine.” Logan growls, motioning his hand towards the man as his mouth drops open, allowing more blood to pool onto the floor, reddening the cold stone under him.

“Scott, you come with me, Ororo you search under those covers, Logan, you get the rooms.” Jean orders, even though Logan was in charge, but they all listen.

Logan goes from room to room, but has no luck in finding anything other than some classified papers that he puts his lighter to and some porno magazines in one office which he flips through a little before burning that too, watching as a models tits turn black before completely burning away, and he sighs heavily, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a thick cigar.

“Not in here Logan.” Ororo whispers, but speaks normally when she turns on the light in the room, and then she points to the back of the room where a large cage was placed in a corner. “What’s in here?” She asks him, wondering about the room a little.

“I don’t see anything.” He grunts as he stretches slightly, then the other two enter the room.

“Wait what’s that?” Ororo points to the corner of the room, and some movement could be heard from under the covers.

“Take the cover off.” Jean nods towards the cage. Logan walks towards it, his heavy boots thumping on the floor. His hand reaches for the cover, and he takes a big portion of it into his fist before slowly tearing it away, careful as not to scare whatever might be inside.

“Is there anything?” Scott takes a few steps towards him, Logan's eyes are trained on you. Just a girl, sitting in the cage, back pressed against the cold metal confinement. There’s more conversation, but you don’t listen to it. You were more focused on watching them, ready to fight if any of them lunged forward.

“Yea, a hybrid.” Logan speaks, looking down at the creature.

“A vicious kind?”

“I have no idea, you look.” He steps aside, letting Jean step in front of him to get a good look at it.

“Hey, hey, hey…” She reaches into her pocket, taking out a blood covered key that he assumes she found on a body. “We’re here to help you…” She tells the hybrid, her voice soft so she doesn’t startle it. “Hey can you dim the lights so she can see us better Ororo?” Ororo listens immediately, dimming the lights in the room, and Logan notices the way you squish yourself against the back of the cage. “Were mutants too sweetie, we need you to come out.” She held her hand out, hoping you would grab it, and as you flinched, Logan’s claws extract just slightly. “Logan, we’re gonna have to grab her.”

“Wait…” Scott warns.

“What?”

"Maybe just back away from the cage, she might feel more comfortable that way." They all exchange looks, but they listen, Logan backing away, but he’s ready to run if the girl starting running.

He watches as you crawl out, your large ears pinned back, your little tail tucked. A deer hybrid. He realises, his head tilting slightly.

He doesn’t listen to the rest of the conversation, only staring at you, scared, small. But he does notice the way you seem to only grow against him, occasionally taking a step back towards him, he could tell you were only comfortable because you recognized him.

And he loved it.

“Let’s get her out of here.” He tells the team, stopping whatever conversation they were having. “Before the enemy backup comes.” He huffs, then his arm gently wraps around you, but he leads you, letting the rest of the team walk ahead of the two of you while he holds onto you.

“You’ll be alright…”

[pathetichimbos]

Hii! May I request Thomas Hewitt overhearing reader talk with her friends and saying that she came across this very cute guy whom she smiled at when they accidently made eye contact? (The guy is, of course, Tommy <3) And maybe Tommy spares her afterwards and decides to hide her away so that Hoyt doesn't order him to turn her into a human stew-

Thank you!

You're Mine

Includes: Thomas Hewitt / F!Reader

SFW

TW: Hoyt is a creep again / Very very slight Yandere!Thomas

...

Thank you for sending in this ask! Sorry for the long wait time and I hope you enjoy!

The cool wind rushed across your face, whipping around your body and sweeping through your hair as you leaned back on your own hands.

Your eyes stared up to the bright blue sky, a few tuffs of cloud floating idly through the giant blue mass as you sped down the highway, your best friend behind the wheel.

You were sat in the passenger seat, feet planted on the dashboard as the radio blasted loudly enough to try and rival the open hood of the convertible.

Carly was screaming along to the music, open beer in hand as she swung around her seat behind you, loud laughter repeatedly breaking up her own singing.

Brooke was singing as well, pausing often to puff on the cigarette stuck in her left hand, the smoke immediately obliterating in the harsh winds as soon as it left her lungs.

You three had been on the road for two and a half hours, not even making it a quarter a way through your trip. Time was dragging on as Brooke sped past the desolate Texas fields, pushing well past the speed limits.

Carly's laughing suddenly dies down as she leaned past the front seat, turning the radio down to match her new tone.

“Hey, look! There's a gas station up ahead!” She pointed at the large red sign standing prominently on the side of the road, the faded red and white paint being about the only thing you can register about it as you quickly pass it.

“Oh, perfect, we're almost out.” Brooke sighed, flicking her cigarette butt to the road.

“I told you to fill up before we left!” You furrowed your brows as you looked your friend up and down, “We sat at that first place for twenty minutes, what gives?”

“Not the cute cashier, that's for sure.” Carly giggled as she wrapped her arms around your neck and leaned her chin on the seat, “You know how our Brooke is, always the romantic.”

You rolled your eyes and playfully nudged her, “Oh, like you're one to talk. Didn't you tell Freddy and Taylor you'd go out with them next week?”

“But I've got taste,” She insisted, “My men have to have culture. I don't just go for the first cute gas station clerk that comes my way.”

“Oh, get real, Carls,” Brooke scoffed, “The only 'culture' Taylor has is whatever's growing on his dick after sleeping his way through the entire town.”

Their smiles were wide as they continued to poke playful fun at each other, filling the few minutes it took to find the gas station with conversation and laughter.

The station wasn't anything fancy, no one in sight as the three of you parked next to one of the only two gas pumps out front.

The building was old and small, the white paint faded and chipping off the sides from the apparent decades it spent under the relentless Texas sun.

The glass door was smudged and unclean, the pumps rusted and stained, and the air was filled with the red dust Brooke's car had stirred up from driving through the dirt that laid out in front of it.

You couldn't help but think of how perfect this scene would be in a horror movie.

“Here.” Brooke dug a ten out of her small pink purse, shoving it your way.

“Why do I gotta go into the creepy old gas station?” You frowned, still taking the bill.

“Because I'm pumping the gas and Carly's already drank so much she's about to piss herself.”

You turned back to see Carly had already evacuated the back seat, hurrying off to look for the bathrooms.

You sighed and gave in, stepping out of the car and taking the opportunity to stretch as you made the short walk to the front door.

The metal was hot as you swung the door open, the creaky hinges screaming out as the heavy, rancid smell of old meat swept through your nose.

You couldn't help but cringe a little, nose scrunching and feet faltering at the old pig set inside the glass counter of the small deli to your left.

You brushed it off and stepped up to the counter to your right, greeting the older woman with a smile as she puffed on her cigarette.

She looked you up and down, a slight scowl on her face as she nodded at you.

“I need ten on, uh...” You glanced back through the door, “...The pump that's closest to the door.”

“Ain't got no gas.” She deadpanned, leaning on the counter with one hand as she looked down to the ten you had sent on the counter.

Your heart dropped and you sighed, crumbling the bill in your hand, “Is there another gas station around here?”

“Not for another fifty miles.”

“I don't know if we can make it that far. Do you know when you might get some more gas?”

“'Fraid those pumps haven't worked for the better part of five years.”

You let out a huff and chewed your bottom lip, “I- I don't, uh... I don't suppose you have any idea of what we could do?”

She let out a long sigh through her nose and rubbed the butt of her cigarette into the ash tray, “I can call the sheriff. I'm sure he won't mind taking you to the nearest station.” She punctuated her sentence by looking you up and down once again.

That implication made you more than a little uncomfortable, but knowing Carly and Brooke were with you was enough of a comfort let her call the man.

The lady turned to the phone behind her, spinning the dial as you tapped your foot impatiently.

You were looking around the station, taking in the old, dusty atmosphere as you waited for the sheriff to pick up on his end.

Flies buzzed, darting around the room as the dull lights flickered in the empty display fridge across the store, a couple of old wooden tables and matching chairs filling the space between it and the shelves.

A small radio sat stiff and silent on the table behind the counter, right beside the phone the lady was speaking into.

“Sure you ain't. And I don't know, only one of 'em came in.”

You balanced on the balls of your feet for a moment, letting out a short sigh as you finally tuned into the one side of the conversation you could hear.

“Watch your tone, boy.” Her voice was threatening as she pulled the phone away from her ear, “How many of y'all are there?”

Your brows furrowed as you stopped for a moment.

It was a bit of a strange question, but you supposed that he would need to know how many people he'd be driving, so you brushed it off and gave her an answer.

“Three, including me.”

“There's three of 'em.” She didn't acknowledge your answer as she continued speaking on the phone.

You pursed your lips as the faint sound of a loud man drifted from the phone, but you had no idea what the hell he could be saying.

“If you say so. I'll see you in a bit.” She finally responded before hanging up the phone and turning to you, “He says it'll be about five minutes.”

Hope blossomed in your chest as you thanked her profusely, “I'll go tell my friends.”

She didn't say anything as you hurried out the door, meeting Brooke and Carly at the car.

“The pump ain't workin', Y/N. What gives?” Brooke was repeatedly pulling the trigger as the pump sat in her gas tank.

“She said they don't have no gas, and the next station ain't for another fifty miles.”

“Oh, what the hell...” Carly groaned from the backseat where she had been laying out, sunglasses protecting her eyes from the harsh light.

“Don't worry, she called the sheriff and he's gonna come give us a ride!” You explained, climbing back into the passenger seat, “She said it'll only be five minutes.”

Brooke huffed as she put the pump back in place before climbing into the drivers seat, “Just our luck, eh?”

Carly shot up, beaming, “It could be! I bet the sheriff is an absolute hottie.”

You snickered, “In a place like this? He's probably a hundred years old!”

“Hey, Carly likes the gray foxes.” Brooke smirked, leaning back on her seat to face the two of you.

“Oh, sick.” She made a gagging face and grabbed her throat, “You are a freak, Brooke!”

“There's nothing wrong with an older guy!” You defended the idea, “They're more mature.”

“Oh, so you're the freak.” Brooke laughed, “It would be you, you've always been a weirdo.”

“True! Remember when we went to that haunted trail a few years ago and she hooked up with one of the zombies!?” Carly pointed out, making you groan.

“Don't remind me. He was such a clinger, I practically had to fake my own death to get him off my leg.”

The conversation continued flowing easily, as it always did between you three.

Before you knew it, the loud slamming of a car door caught your attention and halted your conversation as the three of you looked ahead to the sheriff's car parked some feet ahead of your car.

And older man began walking from the driver side, graying and white hair, a matching, thin, goatee stained by the dip he haphazardly spit to the ground.

“Oh, nasty.” Carly whispered, pulling a face, “He really is old.”

“Don't say that!” Brooke nudged her with her elbow before gesturing to you, “You'll give the old home's heartbreaker here a boner.”

You gently slapped her shoulder, “Shut it, he's coming this way.”

“Who's that in the passenger seat?” Carly asked no one in particular, sitting up further to get a closer look.

“Well, howdy there, ladies. What brings you to this little slice of paradise?” The sheriff drawled, a creepy smirk on his face as he finished crossing the path to Brooke's door, leaning a little too close for comfort.

“Just passing through, sir.” Brooke gave a tight smile, leaning back a little, “Ending up running out of gas.”\

He tsk'd a little, shaking his head, “Well, that just won't do, will it?”

You tried your best not to pull a face as your attention turned back to the sheriff's car, hearing the passenger door finally open and close.

Out stepped a man, much much different from the first person to emerge.

He was tall, towering over the car as he shuffled in place, head hanging low as his eyes stayed trained on the sheriff.

His long, black curls brushed against his shoulders, and seemed to be held down by the homemade mask covering his face, though you couldn't see any finer details from here.

He wore an old, dirty dress shirt, and black slacks to match, almost as if he were in his Sunday best, despite the stains and wrinkles adorning his clothes.

As you stared he seemed to notice, eyes darting to focus on you.

A deep heat flooded your cheeks as you flashed an awkward smile before shrinking into your seat, and mostly out of his line of sight. Staying up just enough to peek back out at him often.

“Oh, don't worry about it.” You tuned back into the sheriff, flashing his stained teeth as he finally stood straight again, “I'll just go in there and tell Mama to keep an eye on your stuff and then I'll take care of y'all.”

You could practically feel Carly shuddering as he stalked off towards the gas station directly across from your car.

“Thomas!” The man yelled as he reached the doorway, and you watched as he motioned the second man over before whispering something to him none of you could hear.

Assuming he was going back into the gas station, you turned back to your friends, who seemed to be avoiding looking at the gas station all together, thanks to the creepy sheriff.

“What a fuckin' sicko!” Brooke shuddered, “I don't want to go anywhere with him!”

Carly nodded, making a sick face, “Did you see the way he kept staring at our boobs? I don't trust him!”

“Who gives a shit what you guys are talking about.” You loudly interrupted their quiet complaints, “Did you see that second guy!?”

They both shook their heads, having been too focused on the creepy advances of the sheriff.

“Oh my god.” You groaned, running your hands down your face, “He was so fucking cute. I'm talking tall, dark, brooding, absolutely huge build. Guy looked like he lifts in his sleep.”

“Uh, you mean that guy, right there by the door, who can absolutely hear your bat shit talk?” Carly pointed to the man, who was standing a few feet away, completely avoiding looking at the car now.

You face dropped and you slunk into the seat, practically screaming, “NO, oh my god he must think I'm such a freak.”

“Um, you kind of are.” Brooke leaned down and whispered, “He's not that cute.”

“You are so stupid.” You let out a sigh, “That man looks like what every man wants to be.”

“Well, maybe he didn't hear you.” Carly offered a small smile, “Even though he definitely did.”

“Fuck.”

“Go talk to him.” Brooke nudged you.

“No way! I'm not looking to embarrass myself even more!”

“It's too late anyways.” Carly reluctantly gestured to the sheriff who was now returning.

Brooke rolled her eyes as she turned to climb out of the car, “Come on, girls.”

You sighed as you followed suit, Carly not far behind.

Brooke was the first to make her way to the sheriff's car, opting for the backseat, much to your and Carly's dismay.

Not even giving you a chance, Carly darted ahead, loudly announcing, “I'll sit with you, Brooke!”

You groaned, knowing it would be rude to try and insist to sit in the back as well.

You glanced back to the station door, noticing Thomas was coming over too. You sighed this time, hoping that he'd take the front seat, as he seemed to know the sheriff better.

But before that even became an option, you heard the loud protest of Brooke and Carly as they pulled faces at the open back door.

“There's stuff all over the backseat! We can't even fit.” Carly pointed out.

“Oh, yea.” The sheriff mused, “Well, c'mon then. Start grabbing stuff, we'll throw it in the trunk.”

He opened the trunk and your friends gave you looks as they started grabbing armfuls of various things crowding the backseat.

You finished walking to the car, planning on helping but walking slow so there hopefully wouldn't be anything left for you to grab.

Thomas was only a few steps behind you, watching as you stood beside the open back door, waiting on your friends.

His hands twitched, and his mind was torn.

His entire life he was ridiculed and bullied.

If not for his deformities and looks, than for his lack of education and inability to fully understand and control his emotions.

When people looked at him, they saw a monster. A freak.

But... You didn't.

You, a complete stranger, if even just for a minute, thought he was cute.

Cute enough to tell your friends and feel embarrassed by his opinion.

You treated him like a normal person, for a brief moment.

And he was hooked.

He craved more, more of that feeling. To have someone look at him like he was normal, like he was more than just a deformed monster hiding behind a mask.

He wanted to get your attention again, to selfishly hear your sweet voice say more kind things, things that no one had ever said before.

He stared holes into the back of your head, trying to will you to give him just a little more of your attention.

He thought you were beautiful too, and he wondered if you knew.

Could you tell, with the way he stared every chance he got?

God, he didn't even now your name, but he needed to. He would do anything to learn more about you, to keep you close and safe.

He was so lost in his own thoughts and emotions he didn't even notice how severe the situation had gotten between the sheriff and your friends until you darted forward.

Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous. His mind screamed, his hand shooting out to stop you.

The skin of your wrist was so soft compared to his calloused hands, he never wanted to let go.

He wondered if the rest of you was just as soft.

Your confused eyes flickered back to his own, questioning him without any words being spoken.

He shook his head, tightening his grip just enough to get his message across without hurting you.

You were his now. And he would give his life to protect you.

[evergone]

The Agreement

James Potter x Reader

Warnings: 18+, sex, alcohol, smoking

Description: James and the reader lay out the rules to be FwB, but the reader has already broken one.

It was James who had come up with the idea to make the agreement. You’d only accepted and helped to draft the terms. I mean, of course you had, it was James, how could you say no to him? Plus, you were a little more than tipsy and the fumes that you had been second-hand smoking from Sirius’ cigarette wasn’t assisting in keeping you soberly grounded. That being said, you probably still would have agreed to the terms if you were sober.

That was problem everyone found with James. All he had to do was give you his signature look — the one that spoke more than words could convey, the one that held out a metaphorical hand and beckoned you towards adventure, the one that wouldn’t allow itself to be ignored — and suddenly, you were saying yes to his every whim. His friends were the most common victims of that look, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were always whisked away into trouble with him, but you were one of those victims, too.

At first, James hadn’t wanted to go to the party with the rest of the group. He was nervous about being amongst such a large group of muggles while drunk, knowing his own tendency to show off with that wand of his. But when he saw you twirling on the street from the upstairs window of Lily’s home he reconsidered.

“Surely you’re coming, James!” You called from the ground, your hand a shield covering your eyes and hair from the cool afternoon wind.

“I’m too immature for it, Y/n,” he shook his head, “It’s best if I stay.”

“Oh, shut up and get on down here!”

He laughed heartily and disappeared into the house only to return at the front door. You squealed in delight and pulled him into a hug, dragging him into the large group that had gathered outside. Lily’s sister, Petunia, had reluctantly decided to allow you all to go to the party that only she was invited to, and stood off to the left with her hands in her jacket pockets and her arms glued to her sides.

“Can we go now?” Petunia more demanded than asked, “We’re already a half hour late.”

When, finally, you arrived at the party, you were into the alcohol in moments. Sirius had run off to mingle with muggles about the music, asking every person he could find for recommendations and such, and Marlene had joined him, interested in muggle culture. From afar, you felt that they sounded like tourists from another country, you even heard some people asking where they were from. Mary, Lily and Dorcas were doing shots with some muggle boys, while Peter was demolishing Remus at beer pong.

In the joy of it all, of the fraternising with these unfamiliar people, you had lost James. Everyone was wearing such similar outfits that you couldn’t find his hideous denim jacket in the crowd, so you slipped out the back door and searched as you stood cluelessly by the edge of the pool.

“Lost, are you?” James’ deep voice sounded from behind you, spooking you into spinning around to look at him.

“I was looking for you,” you informed him, “Wanted to talk to someone I knew, but the others are all busy.”

“Well, here I am, doey,” he smiled, gesturing to himself.

“Don’t call me that, you fool,” you rolled your eyes and he chuckled.

He led you away from the crowd and onto the roof of the unknown host’s house where you continued to chat softly, watching the stars twinkle in the great expanse like the tuffs of a dandelion clock stuck to black paint on canvas. You had no clue where he kept pulling drinks from, but for the rest of the night your hand was never without the comforting hug of a beer.

The lot of you had stumbled home together with laughter that echoed through the streets. Somehow, Sirius had gotten his filthy hands on that cigarette I mentioned earlier, and was treating it like his only lifeline, desperately trying to get every breath out of it that he could. Your arm was slung over James’ shoulders as you whispered flirtatious secrets to him:

“You smell absolutely fantastic.”

“You fancy the scent of Peter’s vomit?”

And, in return, his hand graced your hip. His fingers too close to be friendly like they were supposed to be, his heart too close, as well. He stared at you with his beautiful brown eyes that shone a brilliant gold in the light of the street lamps and the shine of the waning gibbous moon.

Back at Lily’s in the dead of night, James claimed one of the spare bedrooms all to himself, arguing that he deserved it after Peter spewed his guts up all over him. At first, you had shuffled into Lily’s bedroom to change into your shorts and a Fleetwood Mac shirt that you found stuffed into the bottom of your suitcase. As you slipped into bed next to Marlene, you were drawn out into the hallway in which you caught James making the exact same movement.

You waved at him. He waved back. Both of you exchanged quiet greetings before he nodded backwards towards the room he was in and bit his lip.

“It’s cold in there,” he said, “All alone���”

You shrugged, “And what do you expect me to do about that?”

“I could think of a few ideas,” he teased and you shook your head.

“We shouldn’t,” you said, altogether unconvinced by your own words, “This is Lily’s house.”

It wasn’t like there had ever been something between James and yourself before. You were always just friends, that’s how it was and how it would always continue to be. That’s why you made the agreement — but not until after you had warmed him up and kept him warm until morning.

Once you awoke, he helped you tie your hair back into a ponytail and smiled at the work of art his mouth had made on your back. You, on the other hand, were appalled by the sight of it in the mirror and unleashed a full-blown pillow attack on him, giggling goofily. The two of you showered together in the en suite, his large, calloused hands drew the soap along the curves of your body expertly. You dried his hair slowly and gently as you pressed your breasts onto his bare back.

“If we do this again, we need to make an agreement,” he told you, his head resting between your naked thighs on the bed, “A—A set of rules of some kind.”

You didn’t want an ‘agreement’ but the effects of alcohol still lingered in your mind, so you said yes and let him lay out the framework. You added your two cents every now and again.

“Never while high on anything other than weed,” he said.

“Never in the same room as someone else,” you said.

“We have to tell each other if we do it with someone else.”

“Or if we go on a date with someone else.”

“And most importantly,” James begun, “Absolutely no falling in love, alright doey?”

Your lips pursed. Oh. Oh. Oh, fuck. You were screwed, you couldn’t possibly agree to that term. By Merlin, you were already in love with him! How could you not be? He was everything you could want in a man: stunning good looks, intelligent mind, charming personality. He was perfect and you were in love with him.

“Absolutely.”

After a couple months of suffering through a friends-with-benefits situation with James, the agreement was coming back to bite you in the arse. Your friends could see it in every movement you made around him. Remus had caught you crying in the common room more times than he could count, and Lily couldn’t bare to hear another story about you giving him a blow job just so he wouldn’t end the agreement that was plaguing your every waking hour. It wasn’t his fault, you had to remind them, you just weren’t able to confront him with the truth about your feelings yet.

“I’ll tell him, I promise,” you told them.

“When, Y/n?” Lily asked skeptically.

“Eventually!” You whined, “When I’m ready!”

“And when will that be?” Remus raised his brows at you.

You groaned and fell back into the maroon couch in the common room in front of the empty fireplace. They were so pushy. They were the worst. You would get there at some point, they just needed to give you a little more time. You needed a little more time.

When James entered the common room that afternoon, he had nodded up the stairs towards his dorm at the sight of Remus, Sirius, and Peter all sitting around. It was one of the very few moments that none of them were up there, and you had to capitalise on those moments as best you could. You stood up obediently like a puppy and ignored the judgemental glances from your friends as you followed him up the stairs.

As he shrugged off his robes, he turned to you, “This might be our last go at it.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him curiously and stripped off your pants.

“I have a date,” he responded.

Oh. Well, that was one way for you to get out of admitting your feelings for him. Probably the worst way, but a way nonetheless. Perhaps, your heart would be broken, but at least James would never know that you had broken the agreement before it had even been agreed upon.

“Jamie,” you started, “I don’t think you should go on a date.”

He turned to you, head tilted to the side, one eyebrow perked in a mixture of confusion and curiosity. You couldn’t help yourself, it seemed. You couldn’t let him leave you behind.

“I broke the agreement ages ago,” you admitted and he frowned, “From the start, I was in love with you and I’m sorry for lying but I just thought that—”

“I knew it.”

“Huh?”

“I overheard you talking to Lily about it.” His gaze softened as he grinned at you, “You should have told me, I would have asked you out instead of making the agreement, I thought that was my only option.”

[bunnylove1]

.•His star•.

•.~Valentino x pornstar!reader

•.~WARNINGS: semi smut if you can even call it that, borderline toxicity, cuss words, small mentions of angsty stuff, fluff, mentions of blood and bruising a couple of times, and lastly Val being a dick head as always

•.~Love Val and thought this would be a fun idea!

Clips videos films photos shows, You were popular to the eyes and body’s of the male and female sinners, You didn’t mind all the attention it was your job, it kept you warm at night in a nice room at a somewhat nice apartment …, it wasn’t dirty, but it was sure busy and loud with other sinners making there print in the building 

You worked for Valentino for about a year now , he was a hot headed bipolar mess but he treated you…different from his other employees, he was nicer more sweeter, gave you gifts often, he’d even reward you after shoots with a nice dinner, he’d call you whenever he was pissed, he’d have you sit on his lap and calm him down. He thought you were “The best at calming people down” it was true 

The studio had tons of pornstars that would have panic attacks before and after shoots no matter if they were big or small and if they were violent or not, You were always the one to calm them down, you’ve seen some tuff shit at the studio but it was better then the streets.

Val sent you a text it read “Good morning cariño you’ve got along day a head of ya princess be prepared” knowing Val he was gonna have you working until your body gave out on him and you had to grab onto him to support yourself. You put your phone down not replying to him and just started to get ready, you never got all dressed up knowing that the studio would do that for you, the studio always had you dolled up just to get the makeup ruined and the clothes torn off 

Putting your black sweats on with a regular white tank with a jacket that had your star name on it, it was a gift from Val. You headed your way to the studio, but not without making it past a couple of cat callers, you finally made it. Opening the doors of the studio you were hit with the smell of cheap alcohol and expensive sex, walking to your room at the studio setting your stuff down by your vanity, Val opened your door “Cariño! How lovely of you to make it” he said slinging his bottom arms on his hips letting his other set be crossed under his chest. “Hi val, what do you have planned for me today?” You sat down at the end of your silk bed, the moth took a long drag of his cigarette letting the pink smoke hit your face “You’ve got a shoot at 1, and another at 3, with a film shoot at 4, and another shoot with some guys at 10” you huffed at the sound of a long day.

“Don’t huff at me. You wanted this” he said turning his back away from you looking at your already exhausted face in the big mirror that was faced to your bed. You mumbled some shit under your breath ‘right cause I sooooo wanted my holes to be filled with random peoples cum’ you went to get up and start the long day, “What was that cariño?” You twitched an eye “Nothing sir just ready to start my day” you gave him a painted on smile “Good let’s go the staff is waiting with makeup and an outfit” he said putting a hand on your back guiding you to the place you already know your way too

After the staff had done your make up they gave you a shiny leather body suit with black shiny thighed boots and a chocker they gave you a few props as well as a gag with a white gag ball, a leash and some rope. “Perfect cariño, just like that, I couldn’t just eat you out~, don’t fucking move, perfect darling keeping being a good girl for me, I didn’t tell you to stop posing!” Val yells sitting from his Director chair his legs crossed and his hand under his chin. 

After a long 2 shoots it was finally time for your film, Val told you what it was about, you must play a dumb girl who’s acted out while your partner played a dominate man who teaches you a lesson, how ‘fun’ you thought. Getting into position the film had started to roll, you were already done with the acting role play part and it was time for the actual thing. Your partner grabbed your hips and pulled you close stoping your face an inch away from his, he tightened his grip on you hips, this made you wince, he started to kiss you going down your neck bitting you, he hit a nerve while doing so causing you to jump back and wince at the blood that was dripping down your chest 

“HEY! CUT, CUT, CUT THE FUCKIN CAMERAS!” he said spitting pink spit out of his mouth motioning to stop the film, he stomped over and pulled you to his side with one of his arms and having another over your fresh wound causing you to flinch at the pressure he put on it, “What the FUCK is wrong with you, I SPECIFICALLY told you not to make her bleed! Get. Off. This. Set. NOW!”  He had this one rule with you that you were to never have wounds caused in films, he didn’t care if the others did but he didn’t want you to bleed or have bruises by these partners of yours, he was very pacific with that rule and told everyone of your partners, Val yelled at the actor and pushed him out of his Sight, “cariño, are you okay, let’s get you cleaned up yeah”. Val looked down at you, you went to go walk but your legs felt like jello, Val noticed and picked you up carrying your bridle style to his room your eyes felt heavy very heavy “it’s been a long day cariño~ take a rest” he stated petting your soft hair, you did as he said and rested your eyes 

Once you smelt the sweet linger of smoke you could tell you were in Vals room, your eyes fluttered, taking in the pinks and purples and the smell of smoke, once you could halfway tell your surroundings you sat up, you noticed you were placed on Vals bed and that he wasn’t there, “Val….” You spoke your voice soft with a sleepy drag. 

“cariño, your awake” Val stated sitting on his couch smoking his cigarette. He got up and put is cigarette out walking over to you, he placed a hand on your cheek caressing it, his touch was warm and his hands were soft, you almost forgot what happened in the studio. But not for long till the dickhead poked your wound. “OW VAL YOU FUCK” you jumped now fully awake smacking his hand away from the bit.

“Sorry cariño, I just need to look at it” he looked down at you his voice sweet, “looking at it, you mean by poking the shit out of it?” He chuckled “sweetheart just sit still baby~” he let the last word out smoothly like he was soothing your tense body trying to seduce it, you did as he said. You sat at the end of the bed facing him letting him take the bandages off and grabbing some type of oil, “what’s that” you looked up at him “well my curious conejita, it’s just a healing oil, till help the wound heal faster” he opened the oil putting the cap in his other hand and put some on the wound “SHIT VAL THAT BURNS!” You jumped back “stay still conejita, or else I’ll make it hurt worse” His words were stern as he gripped your shoulder tightly, your eyes light up and looked somewhat scared, you could feel them start to water.

I don’t blame you, your in a vulnerable state and your wound didn’t make it better, why wouldn’t you start to cry especially after he just put I mild threat towards you, “conejita, I didn’t mean it” he sighed sitting at the side of you now, he grabbed your side and put you on his lap, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck still sniffling some cry’s. “Shhhh conejita it’s okay, I’m sorry mi estrella, I didn’t mean to get so disgusting towards you” he patted your back leaving soothing circles as he went up and down, he had his other hand on your head petting your hair. 

“It’s *sniffle* okay” he frowned at your sweet cry’s. His expressions turns into a smile “how about I treat you mi estrella how about a nice warm bath with me?” You ears pricked up and your slaty tears gone but still a residue left on your sweet face “that would be nice” he smiled and cradled you until you both meet the bathroom, he set you down on the counter of the bathroom sink, he started the bath letting it full up with bubbles, the sweet sent of roses and vanilla hit your nose, your face meet vals again.

“Here mi estrella” he stated wanting you to stand in front of him, you hoped off the counter and stood infront of him, he started to take the shirt you wore off and place it on the counter you couldn’t help but blush as he went to take your underwear off. “mi estrella” he grabbed you face “look at me cariño” you gave him a soft look at you obeyed him “good girl, let’s take a bath now shall we” he helped you in the tub, you sat down in a hot water as bubbles covered your body. He let your body get comfortable before he started to wash your hair, he let his finger tips reach your scalp not to hard to nip your scalp but just enough to make your hair soft with the conditioner.

Val finished washing you and got up to grab a towel and let you wrap yourself in it “wait there princess let me get you some clothes” he left you to stand in the middle of his room, he came back with one of his night shirts and boxers “here let’s get these on, then we’ll go to bed sound good baby” you nodded a sleepy yes to him, Val took your towel and threw it in the bathroom, “hands up cariño” you put your hands up at he put his shirt over your head, he grabbed your arms and pushed them threw the sleeves then getting to the boxers part, he lifted one of your legs then the other and slipped them the rest of the way up 

You yawned and rubbed your eyes, Val couldn’t help but awe at your state “your so  adorable cariño, come here” he picked you up and carried you to bed, laying you down he did the same pulling the covers over the both of you, he pulled you close setting your head on his chest. “Goodnight mi estrella, I love you” he spoke giving you a soft kiss on the top of your head.

conejita -bunny

mi Estrella - my star cariño-darling or sweetheart

YALL BETTER BE SO HAPPY CAUSE I HATE THIS HES SO OUT OF CHARACTER ITS NOT FUNNY 

@snoozewritezz @camilaxmartin @chiiyuzz

[charetchi]

*doin my littl happi shake :3* 💃💃

[diejager]

If you might be taking requests at all, I was wondering if you'd be up for the idea of a fic with sleazy König or Ghost in an arranged marriage to the reader. Reader isn't quite happy with the marriage, but they are. It could be dark or cute, but I'd love to read a fic about an arranged marriage where reader is completely against it meanwhile their new husband is not. They've been hoping to marry reader for a while and now that they have, reader is all theirs in more ways than one. Scares off any men reader tries to date on the side and is hell bent on showing their lovely spouse that this marriage is perfect and that they truly do belong together.

Sleazy husband!König Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, sleazy!König, arranged marriage, age difference/gap, scent kink, crusty balls, hairy König, tell me if I missed any.

König was a family friend, someone you’d seen a few times in your life, but had heard of many, many times that he was a commodity in your life, a subject you became familiar with without actually knowing the man. You’d caught glimpses of the giant when you accompanied your father to the military base for a quick visit, how he towered over you as a child and even more so now that you were an adult in your early 20s. You thought him an acquaintance, a trusted friend of your father, but you’d never thought of him in any other light. You saw him as someone dedicated to his duty, prideful and hungry for power and money, unbeatable and strong with his broad shoulders and gigantic stature. You wouldn’t have anything to do with him in your life, seeing how he barely glanced your way when you crossed path, he dutifully ignored you every time as if you were a plague.

And yet, you found yourself married to him; an arranged marriage. The colonel who avoided you and never seemed to like you had a private marriage with only your immediate family and a few men and women from the Company assisting to watch him embrace and take you home. A home you had no recollection of and were a stranger to. It wasn’t his flat, or the studio apartment you went to with your father. This big house was new and old, a newly bought house in with fresh paint and untouched furniture, in an old Austrian land with a beautiful and lush forest surrounding it. You didn’t even know the man, but you were married to him so quickly - in a month’s worth - that you were still too shell shocked to do anything about it. 

How could your mother and father agree to it so easily? To marry you off to someone you didn’t know. Then you remembered how close your father and he was, life companions that had fought battles together, bled for one another and would die to save the other. That was the reason you were promised without your consent or knowledge until it was too late. 

“Mein Herzchen,” he rasps, peering down at you, cold blues glowing under the darkness of his hood, “Come.”

König - your husband - was a man of few words, but wouldn’t stop talking if he found the right topic to touch, speaking your ears off about it. There were a lot you didn’t know about him, a mystery you didn’t dare try figuring out, but were forced to. You learned he was a dirty and immoral man, to have you marry him despite him being almost twice your age. He could’ve been your uncle, a man who’s age was near your fathers. You learned that he liked jerking himself to the sight of your open pantie drawers, an unwashed and stolen lace pressed into his face, the soft gusset pressed into his mouth and nose as he huffed and growled. You were repulsed by it, finally understanding why some of your underwearswere slightly crusty. 

You learned that he never shaved after your first night, consummating your marriage in the bed you later slept on. You were shocked to find that his chest and arms were as hairy as the tuff around his cock, wild and unruly, a messy bush crawling up his abdomen and spiraling around his chest and covering his paler tint in auburn brown. You learned that he never showered after a sweaty and stinky work out, his musk stinking up the house wherever he went and that he loved pressing you against his naked and sticky chest, smothering you in his thick smell that nearly had you gagging and choking. You couldn’t find the words to describe a man like König, as big and burly as he was hairy and smelly, he was unmoving in his resolve and liked to touch you whenever he wanted to, whether you liked it or not, his word was law.

Your husband was a sleazy man and you couldn’t do anything about it, the golden bound diamond ring on your finger was more so a chain than a wonderful promise.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry

[j-eryewrites]

Left Behind When We Are In Need

Part Seven of A Sinner's Redemption

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Previous | Next

Word Count: ~21.k

Author's Note: This chapter covers some pretty dark topics. Most of the events happen in canon, but I will still say it. Do not read this chapter if dark themes such as SA trigger you. I have put discretions above the sections containing these triggers to warn you again. I am not in charge and do not control the media you consume. Please read at your own risk. That being said, enjoy this extremely angsty and dark chapter.

*Note: I very briefly edited it, and it has not been beta read.

Trigger Warnings: Canon typical violence, gore, gun violence, descriptions of injuries, attempted SA, mentions of death, descriptions of death, depressive thoughts, fire, cults/religion, mentions cannibalism, cursing/language, creepy men, mentions of pedophilia

꧁_꧂

Numb, that's all Piper felt as she sat on the porch. The chill morning light kissed her skin, and the birds sang their good morning, yet Piper couldn't feel anything. She couldn't hear the sweet song or sense the loving caress of the sunbeams. She no longer felt cold, and most of all, she was no longer sick.

She was well aware of how illness worked. It was human to contract illness, but Piper didn't feel human. She was alive and breathing, for that she was sure. However, after the scars left by Joel's words and the wounds that reopened, Piper was in pain. Sure, humans felt pain, but not like this, Not pain that lasts for 17 years. Not a pain that only increases with each breath. Sinking deeper into the frozen porch, Piper clenched her fists. No, the pain she felt wasn't human. It was a message calling out to her, a consequence, and a promise. It was a promise of death. She'd been right when she told Joel. Piper was only made to kill, and she only knew how to kill. She was a killing machine, built to survive and destroy. She wasn't human. She wasn't sure she'd ever been one at all. Maybe once, she could have been through the love she held for her sister, but it was revealed to Piper as she lay bleeding in the snow that maybe Ellie didn't want her love. Maybe Ellie was just as hurt and angry as she was, and no amount of love would change that.

Deep in her depressive derailing, Piper could not hear the crunching of the freshly fallen snow underneath Tommy's feet as he crept away from his home, family, and life to the house across the street.

A huff of air fogged Tommy's view as he stilled, noticing the statue of Piper on the porch. Her cheeks burned a bright red underneath the wood-brown knit beanie atop her head. Where tuffs of long dark hair used to lay were now pinkened, freckled skin. Around her cheeks and eyes, dark purple and blue shades merged as if a child mixed watercolor paints together. Tommy frowned at the sight, taking care to slowly approach.

"How long have you been out here?" Tommy asked her once he reached the front steps.

Piper shrugged and stood up, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. The sound of Tommy knocking on the front door was drowned out by Piper's heavy steps as she descended the stairs and began her trek in the snow.

"Hey, wait," Tommy called out to Piper. Suddenly, the door flung open and slammed shut, revealing Ellie. Ellie hopped down and trickled after her sister, leaving a wide gap between the two. For a moment, Tommy could only stand and stare before he realized he was supposed to follow the girls and lead them.

The walk to the stables seemed longer than Tommy remembered it being. With how fast the girls were walking, he was sure he'd get there faster than he thought. Yet the silence and grim expression of the girls made the trek over exponentially longer. The cold bitterness of the winter's day slightly softened as they walked into the stables.

Hay and straw decorated the floor, and various saddles, ropes, and grooming tools hung along the wall. Tommy motioned for the girls to follow as he led them down the stables. Arriving at the last few stables, Tommy stopped and sighed, stepping back.

A scowl formed on the girls' faces upon seeing what stood inside the stables.

"You came here to say goodbye or something?" Ellie spat.

"No," Joel replied as he saddled up the horse. "I came here to steal one of these horses, probably two since there's three of us, and go."

"I woulda gave you 'em," Tommy told Joel.

"I know," Joel nodded.

"Anyway…," Joel turned to the girls. "…that was 30 minutes ago, and I guess… you two deserve a choice. I still think you'd be better off with Tommy…"

"Let's go," Ellie declared and stepped into the stable.

"Okay." Joel stepped aside and looked at Piper. "Piper?"

Biting her lip, she stared at Joel. A wave of emotions crashed over her. Joel was standing in front of her, saying he'd stay. The deeper his words sank in, the more her nerves began to work. She began to feel the sharp cold that stained her cheeks and clung to her head. The soreness of the bruises Ellie had left behind struck deep within her muscles. Piper began to feel again.

With her silence, Joel stepped forward. The light trickling through the wooden planks of the stables illuminated the bruises and minor cuts from Piper's hasty haircut. Suddenly, Joel's eyes became watery, and his heart sank deep into the pits of his guilt. How long had those bruises been there? Why didn't he see them? How could he have let it happen?

After a few quiet moments, acceptance filled Piper's being, and she nodded, unsure if her words would fail her. She was glad Joel stayed, but the night before had left its mark and made her bleed. A wound like that is not so easily forgotten or forgiven.

Joel couldn't help the soft smile that melted onto his face. Waving his hand, he led Piper into the other stall where the horse he prepared earlier was ready to ride.

"You good to ride on your own? Hard to fight three people on a horse," Joel explained. Piper nodded before placing her foot in the staddle and lifting herself onto the back of the steed.

"Hold onto both," Joel instructed, gently taking Piper's hands. Mm-hmm," he hummed when they were on the lead. Once she was on the horse, Joel led the creature out of the stall. Then he got Ellie onto the horse before turning to Tommy.

"General direction?" He asked Tommy.

"Head southeast till you hit I-25. It's right off the interstate. Shouldn't be hard to miss." The crease between Tommy's eyebrows deepened, and he drew his brother in for a hug. Patting his shoulder, Tommy pulled back. There's a place for you here… The three of you," he explained with as much sincerity as he could muster.

Joel glanced back at his girls. They were his girls. It was a fact he could no longer deny. "Countin' on it." Joel pointed to the rifle hanging over Tommy's arm. "Can I borrow that?"

Tommy followed his brother's finger and nodded. "Yeah."

"'Cause Maria took mine, you know?" Joel continued to persuade.

Chuckling, Tommy handed him the gun. "I already said yes, Joel." After a pause, he continued. "Adios, big brother."

"Adios," Joel said with tears in his eyes. He had found his brother. Tommy was family, but after last night, he realized. The girls, Ellie and Piper, were family too. They were his girls, and he couldn't leave them. While he trusted Tommy with his life, he knew he couldn't bear the thought of not being there for them if anything had happened. Maybe he could have done something to save them if he had just been there. So, as he led the horses out of the settlement, he didn't feel as sad as he thought he'd be saying farewell to his beloved brother. After all, he had found his girls. He had his family.

꧁_꧂

Tommy said they had a week's journey to the university, yet Joel wished the days were longer. For the first two days, as they rode, he had successfully taught the girls, mainly Ellie, how to whistle. The first consisted of the actual whistle, and the second was about whistling a tune.

Ellie was more than eager to learn after all her failed attempts over the months they had been together. On the other hand, Piper was much more reluctant about anything with Joel.

He had tried to ask about her hair after she removed her hat the first night, but he was met with a grunt in response. Then he wanted to help her pack her sleeping gear in the morning while she was busy with other things, only to watch her repack it all. He knew he screwed things up when he left her broken on the porch that night. He knew his words had cut deep, but he felt it was more than just him.

The bruises garnishing her face only seemed to worsen in color as the days went on. They seemed to be an uncomfortable topic for the girls, with flashes of guilt appearing in Ellie's eyes every time she glanced at her sister. However, what Joel thought was the worst of all was the silence. Ellie still talked to him and made jokes here and there. Piper never spoke. Words hadn't trickled from her mouth since that night. Not even a word was spoken between the two sisters.

Today, Joel decided to teach the girls how to hunt. Well, it was more of a shooting lesson, but the knowledge was still applicable to hunting. Piper decided on a more observational approach as she sat in the snow near Joel and Ellie.

Returning his gaze to Ellie, Joel adjusted her hands and nodded for her to shoot. A thundering wave of gunshots echoed over the hills. After the third shot, Ellie sighed and loosened her grip on the gun.

"Wide right," Joel noted as he pulled the binoculars from his eyes. "You're flinchin'."

"The target's too small," Ellie complained.

"I made it bigger than I should've." Joel instructed, "Eject the cartridge."

Ellie grumbled as she did as Joel told her. "…And I am not flinching."

Joel hummed, "Mm-hmm."

"The rifle just sucks," Ellie said upon finishing the task.

Taking the gun back, Joel peered over at Piper, "Why don't you take a break and let your sister try?"

"No thanks, I already know I wouldn't miss," Piper declared confidently, leaning back into her hands.

For a moment, Joel's eyes widened. She had spoken to him. "If you're so sure, why don't you show us?" Joel teased in an attempt to have more interaction.

Piper rolled her eyes and sank deeper into her hands before pushing off and reaching for the gun. Joel passed the weapon to her without a word, and she raised it to fire. Ellie peered over as Piper's eyes narrowed and her breath stilled. Her finger pinched back on the trigger. The gun fired. The glass didn't break. Piper pulled back in confusion as Joel chuckled.

"Did she miss?" Ellie yanked the binoculars out of Joel's hand and zoned in on the target. "You missed!" she gasped before pointing at her sister. "Piper missed!"

Piper grumbled and shoved the gun to the ground. "Ellie's right. The rifle's fucked up."

Joel bit his lip from laughing more. He stuck out his hand and motioned for the gun. "Okay, give it,'" he sighed. "It doesn't aim right. Mm-hmm. You'll see." He raised the rifle into position. "A deep breath in, slow breath out,' he explained, earning a leer from Ellie. "You squeeze the trigger like you love it. Mm. Gentle… steady… nice and slow."

"You gonna shoot this thing or get it pregnant?" Ellie grumbled as she peered through the binoculars. Joel smirked and prepared to fire.

"It isn't gonna work. It doesn't aim right," Piper mumbled beside him.

Joel pulled back the trigger and beamed as he heard Ellie curse, "You dіck."

Piper only huffed and bit her lip. It didn't matter that Joel had hit the target. She had missed. She hadn't missed in years, not since that night. Not since she first killed a man. She wasn't allowed to miss. She couldn't miss. Yet, here she was. Her shot had missed the target. Peering over at triumphant Joel, Piper understood why. Even if he had hurt her and left her on the cold winter night, she was safe with Joel. Joel became home after months with him on the road, fighting for their lives. Joel became family. Frowning, she continued to grumble; even if Joel was family, he had to work to apologize. He had fucked up, and he wasn't going to get away so easily.

After Joel decided his bragging rights had been overused, he told the girls to pack it up and return on the horses. As Ellie begrudgingly trudged away, Joel called out to Piper.

She turned her head to look at him. "What?" She asked with hands in the pockets of her orange coat.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Joel pulled out a small book, brushing off some lint before handing it to her.

Piper hesitantly took it. She flipped it over and read the cover. It was white and frayed along the edges, as paper does with time. " Tiny First Aid Guide," she read. She raised it with confusion on her face.

Joel stood up and brushed the snow off his pants. "I found it in the room I stayed in. No one was using it. I thought you might like it, so you can start saving someone and not, you know…," he awkwardly smiled.

Piper felt blood rush to her face, and a soft, grateful smile appeared. With her fingers, she traced over the cover. "Yeah, I know. Thanks, Joel." Joel nodded in response and watched Piper walk over to her horse, holding the book tightly. Her head looked down as her brown eyes quickly scoured over its contents. With each word absorbed into her brain, Piper began to forgive Joel a bit more.

꧁_꧂

Question after question followed as Joel, Ellie, and Piper rode along. Ellie's curiosity bubbled to the surface once she realized Joel was willing to answer her questions. Piper, however, hummed along, listening as she directed her horse after Joel.

"So the way they ran things in Jackson was how things used to be?" Ellie wondered, remembering every aspect of Jackson: the Christmas tree, the movie, the communal relationship, the homes, etc.

"No," Joel smiled as he shook his head. "The country was too big for that. Back then, there were two main ways of lookin' at things. Some people wanted to own everything."

"Mm-hmm," Ellie nodded, adjusting her grip to hold Joel tighter.

"And some people didn't want anyone to own anything at all," Joel continued.

"Which one were you?" Ellie asked. She leaned over to look at Joel, trying not to fall over.

"Neither. I just did my job." Joel shrugged and glanced behind, noticing Piper's sudden interest in her book. She'd been reading it as she rode. The horse she sat on seemed to understand that it needed to follow Joel, allowing her the time to scan the pages of her first aid guidebook. He turned back around, proud of himself for the gift.

"Which was…," Ellie trailed off as her brain recalled her previous conversations with Joel. "Building?"

"That's right," Joel acknowledged. "Houses, stores, that kinda thing. We were called contractors."

Ellie smiled and cleared her throat. Deeply, she said, "The Contractor," as if it was a superhero name from one of her comic books. "That's pretty cool."

"Yeah. We were cool," Joel shrugged. "Everybody loved contractors."

"Nice," Ellie hummed.

The conversations continued one after the other. In one conversation, Ellie chose to ask about movies and television, questioning which ones were Joel's favorite. This led them down the path of football. Joel claimed he didn't watch much TV except for the Sunday games.

Ellie's brows pinched together as she tried to make sense of the game. "Okay, so if you mess up your fourth down, then you give the ball to the other team?"

Joel nodded. "Right. It's called a turnover."

"Turnover," Ellie repeated. "But if you make it to 10 yards, then you're back to first down?"

"Yep."

"So," Ellie concluded. "Basically, just moving in one direction."

"Basically…," Joel agreed. "But violent."

"Oh, well," Ellie sarcastically said. "There's that."

Up ahead stood the I25 sign. Joel glanced around, checking if Piper was still following. Stopping his horse, he announced, "Well, how 'bout that? Made it in five days. Easy days."

"I don't know what Tommy was so afraid of," Ellie noted.

"Still time to find out," Piper mumbled as she continued to walk her horse past Joel and Ellie.

"Still time to find out," Ellie mimicked.

The road went on for what seemed like forever. Snow covered the ground, but small tufts of dried grass poked out here and there. In the distance, stood tall mountains encasing a city that grew larger and larger the longer the road. As they entered the city, the snow traded for dead leaves and forgotten cars. Rusted signs led them to the university campus.

"Home of the Big Horns," Ellie read as they approached the sign. "What does that mean?"

"Team mascot," Joel explained. "It's a kind of sheep."

"Oh, see?" Ellie playfully nudged Joel's side. "One step closer to your dream."

"Don't see any Fireflies, though," Piper noted, stopping her horse beside Joel and Ellie's.

"They're probably in the middle," Joel said. "Safer."

"Uh-huh," Piper replied. "Sure."

"This way," Joel nudged his horse and led them down the road deeper into the campus.

"So these places…," Ellie began as the towering brick buildings surrounded them. "People would live here and, like, what? Go to classes and stuff?"

"Yup."

"Even though they were adults," Ellie questioned.

"Sort of adults," Joel explained. "I think it was just as much about partying and findin' themselves as anythin' else. Figuring out what they wanted to do with their lives."

"What they wanted to do with their lives," Ellie whispered before chuckling, remembering Joel's dream of a sheep ranch.

"So I've been thinkin'," Joel began.

"Mm-hmm?" Ellie hummed.

"I don't want a sheep ranch, actually." Ellie peered at Joel. Meanwhile, Piper stole a quick peek away from her book. "I mean, if the deal is I can do anything?"

"That's the deal," Piper recalled.

"Well… when I was a kid," Joel said, "I wanted to be a singer."

Ellie was unsure what she expected Joel to say, but it sure wasn't to sing. Her grip on Joel loosened as a bout of laughter overcame her.

"Shut up," Joel's cheeks flushed red. "Why is that funny?"He grumbled.

Finding a momentary pause in her giggles, Ellie swatted his arm. "You gotta sing something now."

"No," Joel shook his head.

"Come on, man. I'm not gonna laugh," Ellie promised. "Any singing will be better than Pipers."

Piper whirled around and sent Ellie a glare, who grinned in response. Joel made a mental note to ask Piper about the singing later.

"You're already laughin'," Joel observed.

Ellie agreed, "Yeah, okay, true. Well, you're singin' for me later. I'm gonna save the fսckin' world, man. It's the least you can do for me."

Joel weighed his options and shrugged. "Fair enough," he said, looking over at Piper. "What about you, Piper? Do you have any requests once you help save the world?"

At Joel's words, Piper grew quiet, and her eyes cast down. "No…," her voice shook. "No, I-"

"Are those monkeys?" Ellie squealed, pointing over to where a horde of monkeys was running across the stone stairs.

"Must be from the old labs," Joel muttered, slowing his horse.

Ellie laughed, watching the monkeys fumble over themselves. "Look at them go."

"First time seein' a monkey?" Joel raised his brow.

"First time seein' a monkey," Ellie replied for both her and Piper.

Joel smiled, directing his horse to return to the original pace. Up ahead, he noticed a bright yellow symbol covering the faded university signs. He'd recognize that symbol anywhere: the Fireflies.

"Look-it," he uttered, nodding his head to the sign. Piper and Ellie followed his gaze.

"Here we go," Ellie whispered to herself. Anticipation boiled in her blood as they approached the building that housed the Fireflies. She was so close. So close to making a cure and saving the world.

However, as the horse approached, Ellie realized the campus was too quiet and empty for a group of Fireflies to be there. "Guard stations," Ellie said, noticing the empty stations.

Joel frowned before bringing the horse to a halt. Hopping off, Joel grabbed the harness and tied it around a tree before helping Ellie down. Next, he helped Piper secure her horse.

"Mm. No guards," he noted, looking around. He began to walk with Ellie in tow. It was a few paces before he noticed Piper's absence. He turned around and saw her standing beside the horses. Her gun in hand.

"I'm gonna stay and watch the horses," Piper announced.

Joel sighed and began to walk back. "You're comin' with us."

"No, if the Fireflies are in there, then I'll come in. Besides, someone has got to watch the horses." Piper cocked her gun. "I can handle myself."

Biting his lip, Joel found himself nodding his head. "Okay. We'll be back."

Piper scoffed. "You better."

Turning around, Joel motioned for Ellie to follow him in. Together, they entered the building. Paper was scattered all over the floors. Dirt, grime, and mold clung to the once-white walls. Forgotten glass bottles and display cases created a maze along the floor.

Ellie and Joel glanced around the room, looking for any sign of life.

"There were definitely doctors here," Ellie said, picking up some test tubes.

Joel wandered over to Ellie, noticing a brown file on the turned-over cabinet. "This is a packing list—something you make before moving," he explained.

"They just left?" Ellie's brows furrowed.

In the distance, a loud clang of metal echoed throughout the halls. "Maybe not all of them," Joel whispered, readying his rifle.

The clanging continued to call Ellie and Joel deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the science building. Nudging a door open, they discovered some of the monkey's from earlier banging against metal cabinets. Upon sensing their presence, the monkeys screeched as they fled from the window.

"Well… at least it ain't Clickers," Joel said.

"Yeah, no Fireflies either," Ellie added in disappointment. "Maybe in all that research, they turned into fսckin' monkeys."

Joel slowly blinked his eyes, watching Ellie begin to fiddle with the cabinets and kick random bottles along the floor. In the back of the room stood a board with numerous red pins. Joel stepped closer, his eyes narrowing at what he discovered: a map.

"That's where they went?" Ellie asked from behind Joel.

"All the pins lead there." Joel's finger traced the mass gathering of pins on Salt Lake City, Utah. "Maybe gettin' ahead of the weather… better facilities?" Joel suggested. "I don't know."

A harsh whisper from outside the window made the two of them freeze. Joel quickly snuck to the window. Beneath him ran a group of men, all armed. They headed towards the entrance of the science building, to the horses, and to Piper.

"This way," one raider loudly announced.

Another raider whacked his back, "Shut the fսck up," the raider hissed, causing the other to cough.

" Out the back," Joel whispered, trying to silence his steps as he ran down the hallway and stairs. He just hoped he could get to Piper in time. She could handle herself. He knew she could, but he would never forgive himself if something happened.

"Ready?" Joel turned to Ellie as he creaked open the back door. The horses and Piper were visible, but the raiders were nowhere in sight. Joel sighed. They could get out without being spotted.

"Yeah," Ellie nodded. The two crouched down as they sprinted over to the horse.

Piper stood by the horses, whirling around, when Joel whispered her name. For a moment, she raised her brow in confusion when she saw Joel and Ellie's crouched position until she realized why. There was something here—something dangerous.

As Joel and Ellie made their way over, Piper hastily untied the horses from the tree. She handed Joel his horse's bridle and quickly jumped on hers. Her horse grunted as it made a turn, adjusting back to its rider's weight.

"Come here. Come here. Come here," Joel soothed the horse as he instructed Ellie to hop on. "I got ya."

Once her horse was still, Piper noticed another figure. She raised her gun and screamed, "Joel!"

Joel didn't waste time ducking as Piper fired her gun, shooting the raider in the arm and making him drop the metal baseball bat he had swung moments earlier. A river of curses fled the man's mouth.

The sound of Piper's scream and the commotion startled Ellie's horse. The horse screeched, kicked its front legs up, knocked its head, and removed Joel's grip. Ellie cried out, trying her best to hang on.

In the raider's moment of weakness, Joel twirled him, sliding his arm around the man's neck. The curses soon exchanged for pleas and gasps of air as Joel choked the man. The raider's punches grew weaker until he tightened his grip and twisted. A sickening crack filled the air, and the raider dropped dead.

Ellie's horse had stilled when the commotion had died down, and Piper lowered her gun. Despite his heavy breath, Joel caught sight of his girls' horrified expressions. Slowly, his eyes trailed down. His shirt was wet. It wasn't wet before. The worst was the knife impaling his torso. He was positive that had not been there. Joel yanked it out of his body while the adrenaline still pumped through his veins.

The girls' terror only grew as they saw the group of raiders rampaging towards them. "Joel! Get on the horse!" the girls screamed."Get on the horse!"

"Joel!" Ellie cried, extending an arm to help him up. With a grunt, Joel sat upon the horse. He flicked the bridle and forced the horse into a gallop.

"Get him!" The raiders yelled. "Go!"

"Get back!" Piper growled before firing her gun and taking out another raider.

"Shit!" The raiders snarled as they watched another one of their comrades fall. "You mοthеrfսckеr!"

Joel, Ellie, and Piper ignored their curses and hurried their horses. They ran and ran until the border of the university and city was no longer visible. The gigantic buildings were exchanged for train tracks and a suburban neighborhood.

"They're not following us. I think we're safe," Piper breathed, looking behind her.

"Joel? Joel, no, no, no! shit!" Ellie cried as Joel's once-tall figure leaned over and toppled off the horse.

Panic flooded Piper as she fumbled off her horse and over to Joel and Ellie.

"Fսck! Joel? Joel? Shit. Joel, open your eyes. Open your eyes." Piper's hand felt Joel's wound. Pulling her hand up, she discovered it drenched in blood. Fighting the urge to puke, she wiped his blood on her coat.

"Joel, you gotta get up," Ellie begged. Her eyes were beginning to water to a point it was hard to see.

"I can't fսckin' do this without you. I don't know where the fսck I'm going, what the fսck I'm gonna do," Piper trembled as her hands shook Joel. "Joel. Please. Joel, please."

Joel did not answer. His eyes did not open, yet his chest still rose and sank. It was something. Fighting more tears of her own, Piper sniffled. "Ellie, help me get him up." Ellie was too lost in her fear. "Ellie!" Piper shuddered, snapping Ellie out of her panicked daze. "We need to find someplace to stay."

"Where?" Ellie whimpered.

Piper whipped her head around and spotted what seemed to be a neighborhood in the distance. "Maybe there. Looks like a neighborhood." Placing a hesitant hand on Ellie's shoulder, Piper comforted her as best she could. "He'll be okay. We'll be okay."

"How? He got stabbed." Ellie blubbered. "Piper, Joel won't wake up. How is that okay?!"

"I don't know," Piper felt her anxiety flutter to the surface. "But…but I'll figure something out. I always do. Just, come on."

Piper stood up and placed her hands under Joel's shoulders. Ellie placed her underneath his feet. Together, the two girls lifted him with all their might and put him onto the horse. Using her coat to secure Joel to the animal, Piper hopped on the horse, telling Ellie to ride the other.

Piper ignored the cold winter day that nipped at her skin. She ignored the stain on her pants from Joel's leaking wound. Her mind focused only on getting somewhere safe and saving Joel. She had to save him. She meant what she said in her terrified state. She couldn't do this without him. If this occurred months before, Piper would have been fine, but not now. Joel was her home—Her dad. She'd be damned if she was going to lose that after she fought so hard for her family. Piper had to be strong for Joel, like he was for her, and most of all, for Ellie, even if her sister didn't want her strength. If it were the last thing Piper would do, she'd ensure Joel and Ellie made it out.

꧁_꧂

The horses weren't content with the heavy thud of the garage doors. They squealed in discontent, making it difficult for Piper and Ellie to drag Joel off the animal. Piper was grateful the garage could hold the horses. Not only was it cold, but having two live creatures hiding outdoors was a calling card for bad things. If the raiders did decide to come after them, the horse would be the first thing they'd look for.

Joel groaned as his weight sank into the concrete floor of the garage. It felt as if a needle pricked every inch of his body as the blood slowly regained passage to his limbs. With hushed apologies, the girls lugged Joel up the stairs and into the remnants of a home. Trash and debris littered the ground and caught on Joel's feet, halting the girls’ movements every few steps until they could clear the floor. Sweat oozed from Piper and Ellie's skin as they withdrew into the basement.

Ellie argued a bed or a room would be best for Joel. Piper disagreed. It was easier to be attacked and cornered in the room. Besides, they had yet to learn if something resided here. The basement made it more accessible to hide in and guard. After they caught their breaths, the next step was to pull Joel down a long flight of stairs.

Each step left a dull ache in their hearts. Anxiety filled their lungs, and exhaled into the air. Piper swore the air only got thicker and thicker the more they breathed, making her lungs sting. Sweat threatened to drip into their eyes, but the girls refused to wipe it away. They refused to let go of Joel.

Their muscles burned as soon as Joel flopped to the floor. His face scrunched up in pain, and he twisted in turn, increasing his pain. Piper dropped beside him, feeling his head. It was wet and just as sweaty as hers, if not more. Suddenly, she didn't feel hot anymore; she was cold. Every inch of her froze.

"Ellie," Piper whispered. "Go upstairs and find a mattress or something for Joel to lay on."

Ellie huffed a breath of air and wearily nodded before trudging upstairs. It wasn't long before she returned with some worn couch cushions. They had an ugly floral pattern embossed onto them, but Piper did not care about their appearance. The cushions were soft and got Joel off the cold, hard floor.

Placing the cushions on the ground, the girls lifted him and put him onto them. Again, their muscles screamed, but they ignored it. Instead, the girls honed in on the blood that continued to pour out of Joel. Lifting his jacket, Piper got a complete picture of the wound. Joel's once dark gray shirt was now a wet black. His blood seeped into the girl's skin and stained the pages of Piper's book as she yanked it out of her coat pocket and flipped through the pages. Her eyes were wide as she scanned the page.

"It's said to bandage and put pressure," Piper read. "Something about antibiotics, too."

Ellie furrowed her brows, trying to understand, but opened them quickly once she heard the sound of fabric ripping. Piper grunted as she tore off a large strip of her shirt, and gathering the fabric, she carefully lifted Joel's blood-soaked clothes to tie it on.

"Ellie, help me lift him," Piper said as one arm snuck under Joel's shoulder and the other prepped the fabric. Ellie copied her sister's actions, and together, they lifted his chest just enough for Piper to wrap the fabric tightly around Joel. After some rustling, a wet squelch, and a whimper from Joel's mouth. The fabric had been secured. "Put pressure," Piper repeated to herself. Her hands hovered over the wound, the makeshift bandage already turned red from Joel's blood. She gulped, took a deep breath, and, with shaking hands, pushed down on Joel's wound.

A guttural scream burst out of Joel. His back cracked, arching up as his eyes flew open. He tossed around fighting off Piper's attempts to place pressure on his injury. Ellie closed her eyes as she helped fight Joel's panicked movements off.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," Ellie said as a mantra. Her muscles demanded she release Joel, who fought with all his might.

"Come on," Piper begged, feeling her cheeks grow wet. From blood or tears, she wasn't sure. "You gotta help me. Come on."

Suddenly, Joel's movements stilled, and his pupils fluctuated as he peered at the girls. The fog that had overcome his mind briefly faded as the knowledge of their situation hit him. He was bleeding out, and they had been attacked by raiders who could still be after them. His girls were terrified, and he could do nothing about it. Finding the strength to pull the girls in, he gasped, "Leave. Leave"

"Shut up, Joel." Ellie trembled.

Joel shook his head and continued. The pain in his gut grew more and more. "Take the gun." He felt a tear on his cheek. It wasn't his.

"Joel shut the fuck up!" Piper cried.

"You go. You go," Joel heaved. "You go north. You go to Tommy. You go."

Then he let them go and fell back down. He watched them. He watched as they sat, crying. There was so much more he wanted to say. He tried to tell them so much if only there was time. But life wasn't fair. It never was, especially not for Joel Miller, but he could at least give them a fair chance. So when they huddled back, trying to help him, he mustered all the strength he could and pushed. He pushed them away so that they might have all the fairness in the world, The fairness that Joel never got. As he watched them pull themselves off the floor and trudge up the stairs, he felt his cheeks grow wetter. Except this time, these weren't the tears of his girls. They were his own. If the world were fair, they'd stay, and somehow Joel would make it out. If the world was fair, they could be a family, and maybe Joel could tell them they were no longer cargo and that perhaps they never were. But that's different from the way the world worked, especially not for Joel Miller.

Cold crept into his bones and threatened to freeze his tears—a permanent reminder of what he could have had and lost. In the dim light of the basement, Joel stifled his cries as he heard his song fade away, and in his silence, his dream became clearer. He sat on a porch with the late afternoon summer sun on his skin, in the distance, fields of green and yellow home herds of sheep. From beside, he hears laughter and giggles. Beside him sit his girls, Ellie and Piper. Ellie's reading jokes from her stupid book. Joel won't admit some of them are funny. He smiles as he watches Piper roll her eyes and fight off a smile. He knows Piper's just like him and won't admit she's fond of Ellie's puns. At some point, the jokes end, and the girls look up at him. They smile and get up. Joel knows they're going to leave. They are going to fade along with him and the dream. The dream will end any minute, and the girls will be gone. Except they don't leave. They come closer.

Now Joel no longer shivers. He opens his eyes, and there are his girls—Ellie on his left and Piper on his right. She cleans his wound with a cloth and a bowl of some liquid. It stings, but not as much as the tears leaking from his eyes. His girls. They came back.

Beside him, Piper muttered to herself the words of the page. Her hands were covered with Joel's blood, but the color had lightened. She'd done her best to clean her hands. That's what the book said, and she was reading it now. It was telling her how to stitch a wound. She hadn't sewn someone up before. She'd mended clothes for herself and Ellie, but those were clothes. Those could tear and fall apart, and she'd be fine, but this was Joel. Joel couldn't fall apart. Joel couldn't leave her, so Piper had to do this right.

Collecting the remnants of courage left in her body, she took her lighter and heated the needle she and Ellie had found upstairs. Once the needle seemed hot enough, she threaded the string through the top, biting her lip as her finger brushed by the heated end. The string went through. Piper took a breath. Her eyes met Ellie's, and she nodded. Her hand lowered, and she began to sew. The needle threaded in and out of Joel's skin, leaving him gasping for air. Except this time, Joel didn't fight. He stayed still and cried, listening to Ellie and Piper's hush sorries. But Joel's tears weren't from the pain. His girls had come back. The world could be fair for Joel Miller. Maybe for a little bit.

꧁_꧂

EXTREME TRIGGER WARNING IN THIS SECTION! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

They had found her in the morning; it was easy to tell her apart from the crowd with the blood that covered her body. She was guilty. There was no doubt about it.

As she stood before the compound's officers and leaders, Piper realized. No one could protect her. Levi was gone. She had killed him. Now, Piper was alone to fend for herself.

No one listened when Piper begged them to. He had tricked her and trapped her in that room. She had come to him for help. Ellie was sick and cold. The cold was deadly at night. Piper didn't want her sister to die, so she asked for help. Late at night, she'd snuck out of her room and found Levi. She asked him for another blanket. She felt relieved when he'd said yes, but that feeling was soon replaced with dread when she heard his following words.

"For a price," Levi smirked and locked the door. "I need something in return if I'm going to keep helping you like this."

The next thing she knew, she was on the floor. Levi was above her. In her terror, she did as any 12-year-old girl would do. She fought. Then he held down her arms and legs. So, she battled with the one thing she had left—her teeth. Levi leaned in close, and she tore at his throat. Blood seeped into her mouth and tainted her tongue. She bit and bit until there was nothing left to bite.

Piper pleaded with the officers to understand, but they could not. All they saw was a body of one of their own—a vacant spot that needed to be filled before them stood a body—a body that could be put to use, a body of a young girl that could be molded into one of them.

No one cried any tears when the twelve-year-old received her verdict. If she were old enough to kill, then kill, she would do. Once the decision rang out, it was swept under the rug, along with the bodies and lies. Piper wished she could cry. She wanted to cry, but everything was numb.

When she got back to her room, Ellie asked. Of course, Ellie asked why her sister had been taken out of the room at dawn. Looking down at her sickly sister, Piper felt her throat grow dry. There was nothing to say. She couldn't tell her sister. How was she supposed to when her mind was still trapped in that room? How was she supposed to explain it to her sister? Instead, Piper crawled into the bed beside Ellie. As Ellie fell back asleep, Piper promised to protect her sister. To never let her see the horrors of the world as she had. It was a promise never to leave. A commitment to follow her anywhere. A promise to be her sister no matter what.

Piper's head pounded as the afternoon sun rose high in the sky and broke through the room window.

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

She'd never let anyone in again. She'd be strong enough for herself and Ellie. That's all that mattered now. She and Ellie. Ellie and her.

꧁_꧂

"You thirsty?" Ellie hoarsely asked, reaching for her water bottle.

Across from her sat Piper. Her hands shook as she traced the indent of the needle on her fingers. She succeeded. She'd sewn up Joel's wound, and the blood had stopped. Piper sighed and wiped her forehead. The sweat along her body grew cold.

Water trickled from the edge of the water bottle into Joel's mouth. He eagerly drank it before his throat closed, causing him to choke and cough. Ellie's eyes widened, and she quickly pulled the water away. With worry, the girls lean over Joel. They watch his breath settle as he sinks deeper into the cushions. As they watched, his eyes grew heavy, and their own eyes' weight was felt. Adrenaline had left, and there was a yearning to sleep in its absence.

Placing the water down, Ellie slowly lowered herself onto the floor beside Joel. Her head rested on his chest, and her eyes closed. Piper fought the tiredness as long as she could before she caved. She lay beside Joel and let sleep take her. As the girl's breath synced with sleep, Joel inched his arms around them. He pulled them closer off the cold floor. With a trembling hand, he brushed his finger through Ellie's tangled hair and, with the other, ran his hands over Piper's head. His fingers ran smoothly over her short pixie. Joel cracked open his eyes for one last glance at his girls before returning to his dream.

꧁_꧂

Grumbles from Ellie's stomach were what awoke her from her slumber. Her eyes were still heavy even after the sun had gone down and returned. She groaned as she sat up, noticing the weight of Joel’s arm around her back. Looking to the other side, Ellie saw Piper reading the first aid guide in the corner. Her orange coat was zipped up, and her beanie was shoved onto her head.

“You hungry?” Piper asked without looking up from the book.

Ellie nodded before standing up and looking for her bag. Opening it up, she found not a single crumb. “Anything in your pack?”

Piper shook her head and placed the book down. “Nothing in Joel’s either.” Brushing dust and flakes of blood off her body, Piper continued. “We need to eat.” She watched as Ellie followed her path to Joel.

Carefully, Piper lifted Joel’s shirt and the bandage to check the wound. Instead of pinkened, angry skin, a white ooze surrounded the injury. Ellie gagged at the sight and glanced away as Piper cursed.

“It’s infected,” Piper said.

Ellie whirled her head around. “How do we fix it?”

Piper furrowed her brows. “Um, medicine. Antibiotics and shit.”

“Where’re we supposed to get those?”

Piper shrugged as panic rose in her voice. “ I don’t know, maybe…upstairs? Fuck, Ellie, I’m tryin’ my best here.”

Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, pushed onto her feet, and marched up the stairs. “Come on.”

“I’m gonna be right back, okay?” Piper whispered into Joel’s ear. She stood up and took a few steps before she glanced back. Returning to Joel’s side, she grabbed his rifle before scrambling up the stairs after her sister.

The two of them scavenged every single cabinet and corner. Nothing was to be found. As their search continued, so did their curses to the world and god, even if they did not believe in him. It was someone to blame, and that was enough for them.

Lastly, the girls made their way to the garage. The horses’ ears perked up as the garage door opened and closed. Piper and Ellie walked over to their horses, giving them pets and pouring water into a bucket. The horses greedily drank the water, splashing some droplets onto the ground.

Sighing, Piper reached for Joel’s rifle, which was slung over her shoulder. She opened it up and checked the bullets. Her hands swiftly shut it and returned it to its original place on her arm. “I’m gonna go find us something to eat.”

Ellie turned around and glanced at her sister. “Can I come?” She pulled out her gun, showing Piper.

Piper shook her head and walked to the garage door, pulling it up. “I need you to watch Joel,” she said as she stepped outside into the morning sun. She gulped, took another step forward, raised her hand, and began to pull the garage door shut again.

Suddenly, the garage clanged as Ellie resisted her sister’s attempts at closing it. “Where the fuck is he gonna go?” Ellie pleaded. “Piper, I…if Joel dies…”

“He’s not going to die,” Piper growled and pulled the garage down with more force, causing Ellie to wince from the pain. Piper froze and let go of the garage door. “Ellie, I’m s-”

“If he dies, I don’t wanna be here.” Ellie grew quiet. “I don’t wanna watch him die.” She peered up at Piper with watery eyes.

Piper bit her lip and groaned, caving in. “… alright,” she said.

꧁_꧂

With guns raised, the girls left the house. They twirled around, covering their corners, until they realized nothing was there except them and the bird song. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, Piper sighed. Her eyes closed as her skin soaked in the morning sun.

"Piper," Ellie grunted, using her eyes to point toward the nearby forest.

The elder sister narrowed her eyes on the evergreen trees and valleys of snow. Then she returned her gaze to the neighborhood—cars with flat tires, forgotten RVs, and doors hanging on their last rusted hinges. This place was looked over. There would be nothing here for the girls and nothing here for Joel. She turned back to Ellie and nodded her head, telling her to lead the way.

Ellie had to admit the forest was beautiful. Snow clung to the grooves of the tree bark, painting the dark a bright white. Deep, vibrant green pine needles littered the snow-covered ground as if they were the freckles of the earth. Even if the forest was pretty, the snow and pine needles made it hard for Ellie to spot any animal tracks. Ellie stopped looking a bit closer at the ground and noticed Piper doing the same.

The two of them repeated Joel's instructions as they tried tracking any animals. Rabbits, deer, birds were looking for anything at this point with how their stomachs rumbled.

Piper continued to walk around the forest until she felt Ellie slap her side. Turning around, she scowled at her sister, who rolled her eyes and pointed down the hill. Piper moved her head to follow Ellie's directions. In between two fallen trees and surrounded by brush and weeds poking through the white snow was a rabbit. IItsfur was a faint shade darker than the color of the ground. Piper smiled and raised her gun to shoot the creature. Ellie watched as Piper pulled back her finger. The gun fired. The rabbit jumped and scrambled away.

Cursing, Piper bit her lip, drawing blood from her chapped lips. She turned to her sister, but Ellie was already gone, chasing the animal. Her tiny feet trudged through the snow, sinking deeper with each step. With one more step, Ellie was knee-deep in the snow and crashed to the ground. Ellie groaned as she lifted her head covered in snow.

Piper carefully approached and helped her sister, pulling her to stand. "Come on," Piper nudged. "Let's keep going."

Grumbling, Ellie brushed off the snow and followed Piper, stepping in her sister's footprints as they went deeper into the forest and farther away from Joel. Soon, the trees grew sparser, standing tall and farther apart from the next. The sounds of snow tumbling off tree branches and screeching birds were the only things heard besides the girls' footsteps in the snow. Suddenly, a branch cracked, and a soft sound of repeated clicking was heard. Piper gulped and placed her hand in front of Ellie. She raised Joel's gun and slowly stepped closer to the sound. Ellie drew out her pistol and followed.

They tuned their ears into the clicking, and turning their heads in the direction of the sound, they found a stag. Although it was small in stature, the creature made up for it with the sheer size of its antlers. They were majestic as they sharply rose into the heavens. The deer hadn't seen or heard the girls as it was too distracted munching on some forest shrubbery.

Creeping as close as they could, the girls snuck behind a fallen log. Piper readied the rifle only to freeze upon gazing at the creature. Its dark eyes are filled with only one desire: survival. She swallowed her spit. Piper had failed to shoot the rabbit. She could not risk failure anymore, not when so many were counting on her. Taking a deep breath, she sat back and handed the gun to Ellie, who frowned but took the gun. Ellie settled down low and cocked the gun back. In an instant, the gun had been fired, and the deer toppled to the ground. As fast as it had fallen, the deer had risen again to run off in the opposite direction.

"No fucking way," Ellie spat as she stood up, chasing after it.

Piper spat her own cursing string as she followed her sister and the deer. Ellie had shot when Piper couldn't. As Ellie continued to run, Piper found herself slowing. Ellie had shot the deer. All by herself. Maybe she didn't need Piper anymore. Maybe Ellie would realize this and leave; leave Piper all by herself. Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Piper reprimanded herself. It was just hunger. It was only hunger.

Once the girls had tracked the deer and ran out of the clearing, they froze and raised their guns. There, before them, stood two grown men standing over their deer. They were armed, and that's all Piper needed to know before firing a warning shot. The men's gaze shot to the girls.

"Don’t! Drop your rifles!" Piper yelled. Ellie pulled Joel's rifle closer, ready to shoot. The men were hesitant to drop their weapons. It wasn't until the one with red hair nodded that the two lowered their guns. "Now!" Piper demanded, "Turn and face me… Slow. If you make any sudden moves, I will put one right between your eyes. Ditto for buddy boy."

The redhead smiled and raised his hands slowly to the sides of his head. "You’re quite a hunter. We didn’t even hear you coming," he gently spoke. "Both of you."

Piper clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes. She felt sicker than she had been when she was ill. Something about the man's voice made her ears ring and her lungs tense. It was as if her lungs refused to breathe air shared by whoever this guy was. She didn't like it.

"Turn around and walk away," Ellie growled orders of her own.

"Okay," the man said again, stepping back and nodding to the other. The other man shrugged his head and followed. Ellie frowned.

The snow beneath the men's feet didn't crunch fast enough to ease Piper's nerves. "Just go!" She barked when she realized their progression back had stopped.

"Okay," the red-haired man muttered. "All I ask is 10 seconds of your time. I just wanna talk."

Piper cocked her gun and shot another warning. The bullet grazed a nearby tree, making the men jump in their boots. "I won’t say it twice," she growled.

"Please. Just 10 seconds," the man spoke. "My name is David. This is my friend, James. We’re from a larger group: women, children, and we’re all… very, very hungry." He motioned to the dead deer near his feet.

"We're from a large group, too," Ellie announced. "Also hungry."

"Well, even so…" David began pointing to the two of them. "Ya can’t drag this back on your own."

"Thank you for your concern, but I think we've got that covered," Piper hissed. They kept inching closer to the girls. Her eyes darted to their feet. If they stepped one more time, she'd shoot them both in the head.

"We’re not asking for charity. We-we can trade you for some of the deer," David begged. "We have– What do you need? We have… boots."

"Medicine?" Ellie blurted. "Like, for infections."

Piper's attention was snapped away from their feet as David spoke. "We do. Back in our village. You’re welcome to follow us."

"We're not following you anywhere," Piper stated. Her feet dug deeper into the snow, securing her stance. "Buddy boy can go get it. He comes back. You get half the deer. Anyone else shows up, I put one right betw–"

"Put one right between my eyes," David finished with a chuckle.

"That’s right," Ellie said.

"All right," David agreed before turning to the other man. "Go talk to Howard. He’s got a case with some penicillin. Bring back two bottles and a syringe. It’s not code, James. Do as I said."

The man, James, hesitantly looked between David and the two armed girls. Each of them bore a fire in their eyes he'd only ever seen described in the bible. The eyes of the devil, of a killer.

"Ten steps back. Keep going," Ellie instructed James, carefully watching him as he backed away to fetch medicine.

It felt like forever as James sunk deeper and deeper into the forest. Piper was sure he'd sneak around them and attack from behind, but it never came. Still, she and Ellie stood on guard, their guns trained on David.

"That’s your dad’s gun?" David asked, pointing to the rifle in Ellie's hand. "He's the one that’s sick? That’s why you’re out here on your own?"

"What's with all the fucking questions?" Piper snarled.

David's posture caved upon hearing Piper curse. It was almost as if she was offended by her language. "Well, look, uh… it’s a four-mile round trip back to our settlement, he began. "It’s gonna be… a while before James gets back. I have some oil and matches in my pack. We could… take shelter, start a fire."

Piper's eyes narrowed. "We can handle the cold. I'm not sure about you." Ellie shifted beside her. Piper turned to look at her sister. Ellie's burned a bright red, and snot trickled down her nose. Her sister was cold. "…Fine," Piper agreed after a moment. She used her gun and pointed in the distance to a nearby shed. "There," and then waited for David to move.

Once David took his first step, Ellie demanded, "Bring him with us." David looked back and frowned, confused. Ellie pointed to the deer and repeated herself, "Bring him with you." David reached down and grabbed the antlers. "Go," Ellie continued.

She trailed behind David, the rifle ready to fire at the earliest sign of danger. Piper was in tow, tightly gripping the guns James and David had dropped in the snow.

Soon, they reached the shed and had David start a fire. The fire crackled and snapped as the flames consumed the firewood and other kindling. The heat from the fire reached underneath the girls' coats as they sat across David, who sat on the ground. While their guns no longer stood tall in the air, their hands never left the cold, smooth surface of their weapons.

"You know," David said with a smile as his eerie blue eyes flickered back and forth between Piper and Ellie. "You really shouldn’t be out here all on your own."

"Who said we were?" Piper scoffed. The flames illuminated the grim stare embedded in her dark eyes. The purple circles coloring her eye sockets only increased the darkness David found in them. Ellie, on the other hand, was warm. Her eye sockets were free from any darkness, yet her eyes still held a deadly stare, more somber than her sisters'. "From where I’m sitting, you shouldn’t be out here on your own," Piper scolded.

"Fair enough," David shrugged, trying to hide the shiver that covered his body. "So what’s your name? It’s hard to trust strangers. I know. But I honestly mean you no harm."

"I call bullshit," Piper hissed under her breath. She was right. It was getting harder to breathe around David.

David sighed and peered up at the girls. His voice was full of pity. "…For what it’s worth, there’s room for you in our group if you want."

"You’re inviting us to your Hunger Club?" Ellie rolled her eyes. She didn't need this suddenly profound pity David had mustered. She and Piper have never needed anyone's pity. It was worthless in the world the outbreak had created. "No thanks."

"It’s true. We’re hungry," David chuckled. "But… we’re still here…I’m a decent man just tryna take care of the people who rely on me."

Piper frowned. "You’re their leader?" She asked in disbelief. She eyed David up and down, and her frown only deepened. He wasn't a leader. Not in the way Joel, Tess, Tommy, and Maria were. No, he seemed weak yet confident. Piper was unsure where this confidence got assurance from. His people were hungry, and if they looked anything like James, then his people were also sick. Hunger does things to the human mind. It grows fragile and naive in search of comfort and food. Piper knew it well. The QZ would do it to punish the kids. Revoke daily meals, and the kids will start speaking a different tune. It unnerved her.

"Wasn’t my choice. It was theirs," David explained. "But… yes."

"They chose to follow you,” Ellie repeated as a thought formulated in her head. It seemed she and Piper were on a similar wavelength. "Is this some weird cult thing?"

"Uhh," David blushed. "Well, you sorta kinda got me there. I am a preacher, but just pretty standard Bible stuff."

"What?!" Ellie snickered the moment the bible was mentioned.

"The whole world ended, and you still believe that shit," Piper mocked.

"I started believing after the world ended," David corrected. He adjusted his seat to make himself appear taller and more prominent, but to the girls' he was just as small as ever, if not even smaller than before. "Before that, I was a teacher," David said, and a glimmer appeared in his eyes. Piper's breath stilled. She wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or what, but she swore a flash of desire shone in his eyes when he said that. What was worse, his eyes honed in on Ellie. "Math. Taught kids about your age," he noted, pointing to Ellie.

"So you went from teacher to preacher because," Ellie scoffed, "what? It fuckin’ rhymes?"

David grinned and shrugged as if it was the funniest joke he had heard. "Yeah, exactly."

"But seriously," Ellie said, awaiting David's actual answer.

"Well," David sighed, beginning his story.

The more he spoke, the more Piper realized where the unease with David came from. His eyes, the look they held whenever he looked at Ellie, she had seen before. It was the same look Levi had in his eyes that night. The longer Piper thought about it, the more she realized Levi had always had that unsettling gleam in his eyes.

"I found God… after the Apocalypse," David continued. "Which is either the best time or the worst time to find Him, hard to say. But when the Pittsburgh QZ fell in ’17, Fireflies and FEDRA… I left with a few others, and that’s how I ended up with our flock."

"Long way from Pittsburgh," Piper said with a low voice. Her defense screamed at her to pick up the gun and shoot David. But she couldn't. Not when he had medicine that could save Joel.

David chuckled again. "Yeah, we’d settle somewhere, and then raiders would come, so we’d move again. And as we wandered, we picked up new people along the way until… we ended up here." He looked around the shed before settling on Ellie.

"Well," Ellie said, "your luck had to run out sooner or later."

"Hm? Luck?" David raised his brows and shook his head. "There’s no such thing as luck. No," David inched closer to the fire and, in turn, closer to the girls. "I-I-I-I believe everything happens for a reason. It does. I can prove it to you."

"Okay." Ellie urged him on.

"We didn’t expect this winter to be so cruel," David explained. "Nothing’ll grow. Game’s been hard to find. So I sent four of our people to a nearby town to scavenge what they could. And only two of ’em came back. One who didn't come back was a father. The other was a husband. The father had a daughter just like you. And her dad was taken from her. Turns out, he was murdered… by this crazy man." David hid his sneer under a smile as he looked between the two girls. "And get this. That crazy man… was traveling with two little girls."

Piper's eyes widened as she heard some of the shed's floor creak behind her. She jumped out of her seat. Gun raised, pointing into the forest. Her eyes narrowed, and she stilled her breath. While her body remained calm and controlled, her mind was on fire. An array of curses and fears swarmed each thought. These were the raiders. She'd killed one of them and Joel the other. With the glint in David's eye and the fury of the land, Piper knew one thing. Revenge was guaranteed.

Ellie stood alongside Piper, her gun trained on David instead of the vast forest, awaiting her sister's order.

"You see?" David continued. “Everything happens for a reason." Then, looking out into the forest that drew Piper's attention, he calmly called out. "James, lower the gun."

Suddenly, James appeared with his gun held high, trained on Piper. Piper let out a guttural breath and stared down James. Her finger hovered over the trigger. "They're the ones that killed Alec, aren’t they?"

David stood up with his arms raised. "The girls didn’t kill anybody," David assured. "Lower the gun."

James scoffed and prepared to shoot Piper. "She's the one who killed Desmond. The boys told me he got shot by a girl who looked like a boy. That's her."

"Drop it," Piper growled, and James ignored her, hardening his expression. "I said to fucking drop it. Unless you want a bullet to find a new home in your skull."

"Did you bring the medicine?" David calmly asked James.

James' expression broke upon hearing his leader's voice. "Yeah, but–"

"Throw it to her."

"David," James pleaded. His hand itched to shoot and kill Piper. However, David's stern demand did not falter, and James sighed. Reaching into his pocket, he tossed Piper the medicine.

With ease of breathing, Piper snatched the medicine out of the air. A syringe was taped to the side of the small glass bottle. She glanced down and pocketed the medicine before returning her gun to James.

"Back away," Ellie growled.

James slowly made his way around the girls and found a stance next to David. David handed him an extra gun in his pocket, but David didn't take it. Instead, he began to talk again. "I know you’re not with a group. You won’t survive for long out there. I can protect you," he assured.

"I'll take my chances," Piper snarled as she slowly began to back away. Her eyes never left David and James. Ellie mimicked her sister's movements until they were far enough away for the shed to be the size of their thumb.

James watched as the girls stopped and turned, entering a sprint. He scoffed, turning to David. "So you’re just gonna let them get away?"

David shook his head. "Patience, James," he assured. "God rewards those who wait."

꧁_꧂

It was stupid to run in the direction of Joel, but Piper couldn't care. They had the medicine, and Joel needed it more than Piper's desire to lead David and James astray if they decided to follow. Showing them the direction was one thing, but as the snow squashed beneath her feet, another thought soon overpowered her need to save Joel. Their footprints. They would lead David and his band of fucked raiders straight to them.

The air around her fogged up as Piper slowed her pace. "Els," she hissed, worried that David and James may be able to hear her.

"What?!" Ellie turned around to look at her sister.

Piper dug into her coat pocket and tossed Ellie the medicine. "Here, get back and give this to Joel."

Ellie's brows pinched together as a low level of panic boiled to the surface. "Piper, what are you-"

Her older sister had already moved on to her next task. Marching over to a nearby evergreen, Piper jumped on the lowest branch. A clean snap filled the air as Piper tore off the branch and swiped at their footprints. "I'm covering our asses, that's what."

Ellie's stare switched between the vial of medicine and her sister, who was hard at work erasing any trace of their footprints.

"What the hell are you still doing here?" Piper laboriously wondered. The small pine needle scratched at the ground, diminishing any sign of the girls.

Snapping herself out of her daze, Ellie tightened her grip on the medicine and ran. Worry filled her being the farther away she got from Piper. She was leaving her sister alone. David, James, and whoever was out there could come after them. They could be coming now, and she had left her sister alone. Her only thought of respite was Joel. If she could save Joel, he could save them. That's what he did. He always saved them.

The house appeared before Ellie's vision faster than she thought it would. Her legs burned as she darted into the house and down the stairs to Joel. Desperate pants left her mouth as she collapsed beside Joel. With shaking hands, she lifted the blanket off of him. Then, deftly peeling up his shirt, she winced in disgust. The wound seemed even more infected than it had been before. Sweat beaded on her forehead and trickled down her brows as she handled the antibiotics with as much care as possible. A new wave of panic filled her once the syringe was filled to the brim.

"Ah, okay," she said, wiping away the sweat threatening to cloud her vision. "The fuck do I put this? Alright, what would Pipes do? Uh…" Ellie glanced around the room and spotted Piper's blood-coated first-aid book. Scrambling over, she snatched it up and flipped through each page. There was nothing about injections and antibiotics.

"Fuck," she cursed and crawled back over to Joel. "Joel? Joel? Joel, where the fuck do I put this?" Joel lay unresponsive. A layer of sweat and grime coated his skin, making his dark skin appear pale. "Fuck it," and with one swift motion, she stabbed the syringe directly into the sewn-up wound.

Joel groaned. His eyes tensed but never opened despite the immense pain his body was in. Once the syringe had been emptied, Ellie withdrew the needle before debating giving him another injection. Shaking her head instead, she carefully wrapped the needle and medicine and placed them into Joel's bag for safekeeping.

She watched Joel's tense expression soften and sighed, feeling a wave of exhaustion fall over her. She had run. For how long, she didn't know, but she had run. Her whole body ached: her legs, her shoulder from the kickback of the rifle, her back, and her head. Everything hurt, and she was tired. She was a little girl who only wanted to curl up beside Joel and fall asleep into a beautiful dream of a sheep farm on the moon. So, that's what she did. She snuggled up close to Joel, pulling the blanket over them, and sank deep into sleep.

By the time Piper had reached the house's front steps, her orange coat had been removed and tied at her waist. Her shirt was soaked with sweat from disguising her and Ellie's footsteps. Groaning, she wiped away the last of Ellie's prints and opened the garage before tossing the branch with the horses. With the garage door closed, Piper slid to the floor and took a moment to breathe. One of the horses trotted beside her, sniffing her hair before deciding to try to nibble on it. She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her mouth as she brushed the horse away.

Standing up, Piper pulled off her coat and threw it over her shoulders, not placing her arms through the sleeves due to the heat her body was still disposing of. She'd done her best removing any sign of where the girls went, but the knowledge that David and James knew the direction they had gone in and the footprints from before she began her bluff that they could trace and track. She prayed that they were enough to keep them safe. At the very least, to give the girls time to recuperate and Joel time to heal.

Her feet felt heavy as she stepped down the stairs and into the basement. "Ellie, did you…" Piper's voice trailed off when she saw the scene before her.

Ellie's chest softly rose and fell. Her arms were wrapped around Joel, who looked better than he had ever had since the injury. A soft smile melted onto Piper's features, and she quietly stepped down the rest of the stairs.

It felt colder in the basement, so Piper placed on the rest of her coat, zipping it up. Carefully, she picked up Joel's rifle and tip-toed over to the basement window. Sitting beneath it, she cracked it open, just enough to hear the world outside but not enough to invite the cold in. Leaning up against the wall, Piper rested her head on the wall and closed her eyes, Not to sleep but to relax. Piper had no time to sleep, especially if predators were hunting them.

꧁_꧂

Voices cascaded over the ground like the morning fog. Piper's eyes shot open as a wave of footsteps and grumbles grew closer and closer. Her blood ran cool, and her skin paled as white as the snow. It was David, and he brought company.

They were too far away for Piper to make out anything they said, but that didn't matter. Securing Joel's rifle over her shoulder and pocketing her pistol, Piper shuffled over to Joel and Ellie.

"Ellie," Piper hissed, shaking her sister awake. "Ellie, wake up."

Ellie's eyes flew open, and her lungs gasped. "Piper?"

"They're here," Piper anxiously explained. "They found us."

Ellie gulped and looked down at Joel. Placing her hands on his shoulder, she shook him. "Joel! Joel, wake up. Joel, wake the fuck up, Joel," Ellie pleaded.

Joel's eyes shot open, and he darted around the room before settling on the girls. His mind was still in a daze, making it difficult for him to process Piper's words.

"Okay… okay, look at me." Piper turned Joel's face to look at her. "There are men coming, okay? I’m gonna lead them away from you, but if anybody makes it down here, you fucking kill them. You got it?"

Joel's eyes slowly closed, causing Ellie to snap her finger loudly next to his ears.

"Joel, do not fall asleep," Ellie demanded, but it was useless. Joel's eyes closed, and he returned to his sleep.

Piper pushed herself off the floor and began to hike up the stairs when a pair of footsteps accompanied her.

"What are you doing?" Piper asked.

"I'm coming with you," Ellie replied.

Piper shook her head and walked her sister back down to Joel. "No! Ellie, I'm serious. I need you to stay with Joel. He's…he's fucking out of it. I need you to make sure no one makes it down here."

"I'm not letting you do this alone," Ellie desperately said.

"No! Ellie," Piper commanded. "Just fucking stay. Or you'll get us both killed. Stay with Joel. Protect him until he wakes up. I'm gonna lead them away and kill'em. Stay here."

"No-" Ellie began, but Piper shut her down.

"I didn't ask you," Piper growled. Her voice grew dark and dangerous, warning Ellie to back down. "You're staying." In the blink of an eye, Piper shoved Ellie to the ground and darted up the stairs. When Ellie got to her feet, the stairwell door had been shut and barricaded.

Ellie pounded on the door, tears in her eyes. "Piper! Let me out!" She cried. "Pipes! Fuck!"

Fighting the tremble in her voice, she spoke to her sister through the door with clenched teeth. "I'm doing this for your own good."

Without another word, Piper readied Joel's rifle and snuck out the back door. A sigh of relief escaped her once she realized the horses had stayed quiet. With the silence of the late morning, Piper crouched down low. It was up to her now. She couldn't miss. She had to keep Joel and Ellie safe. She had to lead them away.

Her first thought was to take them into the forest, but she knew they would expect that. They'd only send so many men after her and keep the rest in the neighborhood. Instead, Piper chose to lead them deeper into the neighborhood, away from Ellie and Joel. Recalling her faint memory of what the rest of the neighborhood consisted of, Piper remembered a school. She could lead them there. Like a forest, the hallways and classrooms would provide a vantage point to take out the group quietly. That's if Piper was brilliant. The problem there was getting the group into the school. She had to make them think that's where she was staying.

Sneaking around the backyards of the homes that littered the street, she crawled onto a fence and into one of the yards. On the ground lay a rusted ladder. Glancing at it, Piper realized she could sneak onto the roof. It was the perfect place to shoot them down one by one. Maybe she didn't have to lead them to the school.

Pulling herself up the ladder and onto the roof, Piper crawled across the tiles until she spotted the group. David walked into the center with James on his right. There were eight of them. Each of them were armed, all except David. He pointed to the homes on the right and started barking orders.

Preparing the rifle, Piper lay down and peered through the scope. Her sights were on David. She could pull the trigger and kill him right then and there, but then she'd have a pack of revenge-hungry cultists after her. She smiled. That's exactly what she wanted. Kill the leader and then lead the whole group to the school, where she'd pick them off one by one.

Steadying her breath and focusing on David, she pulled back the trigger and fired. There was a cry as the gunshot echoed off the homes. A raider fell, soaking the snow a dark red. But it wasn't David. Piper cursed. She shot the man behind him. Hurriedly, she got ready to shoot again. Her head was down low as she prepared to fire. A cool, sharp whisk of wind flew by her head. She whirled her head around.

"Shit," she snarled. They'd found her. Getting up from her spot, she heard them fire a few more shots as she crawled off the roof.

"Get her! Remember, alive!" She heard David scream as thundering footsteps ran in her direction. She pulled herself over the fence and ran. The school, she kept telling herself, away from Joel and Ellie. She had to keep them safe.

When she heard the raider reach her old spot, Piper had circled the back of the neighborhood. She could see David, James, and one other man.

Piper scoffed and snuck closer, preparing a shot. "It's their own fucking funeral," she whispered to herself.

A horse's shrill filled the air as she readied to fire again. Piper froze as the body of a horse ran onto the street. It wasn't the horse that terrified her—it was the person who sat on the back of the horse.

"Hey, motherfuckers!" Ellie yelled. She shot her gun a few times, taunting the raiders.

David and his group ran after her. Piper bit her cheek, drawing blood. "Fuck," she cursed and ran after her sister, who was half-hazardly firing her gun from atop the horse.

"Shit!" A raider screamed after a bullet grazed his skin. Then, they began to fire at her and the horse.

"Fucking hell, Ellie." Piper's speed picked up, and her breath grew labored.

"Go! Let’s go," James yelled as he motioned for some people to follow him.

"Alive!" David shouted over the chaos of it all.

"Keep comin’, fuckers!" Ellie teased.

Piper continued to run. Her feet blurred as she ran on the pavement, not caring to hide behind the cars and homes. All thoughts of the school were gone. Ellie was out. They had seen her, and she was taunting them to come closer. With each fire of their guns, they got closer to stealing Ellie away. Piper's heart pumped faster and faster. She had to save Ellie. She couldn't let them get her sister. She had to-

A gun fired, and the horse fell to the ground, sending Ellie flying to the ground.

"I got her!" James triumphantly yelled.

"Ellie!" Piper's voice cracked. Raising her gun to fire, she didn't care if she missed. She had to get them away from her sister. She had to get David away. "No, no, no," she breathed, watching David pick up her sister and cradle her in his arms.

Suddenly, a searing pain shot through her leg. Piper screamed and clutched her thigh, feeling the blood trickle out. Her ears screeched as she tumbled to the ground.

"Got the other one!" A raider announced from behind her. He stepped up to her side, yanked the weapons out of her hand, and kicked her in the chest just for good measure.

Piper gasped and clenched her teeth to stifle her cry of pain. She wouldn't give the fucker the pleasure. The pain flooded her, making it hard to notice anything around her. Suddenly, the sun's gaze was blocked by a shadow. Worn leather boots stepped up to her face.

Peering up, fighting the tears in her eyes, she saw David holding Ellie. He smiled down at Piper and brushed away some stray hairs on Ellie's face. Piper groaned and spotted her pistol just beside David's foot. She pulled her hand away from her bleeding leg and reached before James stepped up and kicked it farther away.

"Everything happens for a reason," David muttered.

"If you fucking hurt her," Piper growled. "I'll-"

David nodded, and then her world went black. A dull pain traveled from the base of her head, encasing her in darkness.

"Shhh," David whispered to Piper. "Everything will be alright. You're in God's hands now." Then, turning to the group, he began giving out instructions. "Two of you with me. Drag the horse. The rest of you, stay here. Go door to door. Are you so hungry for vengeance? Deliver it."

The men didn't need another word as revenge and rage flooded their souls. With a sickening grin, they readied their weapons and began their search. They were determined to find the man who had killed one of their own. The girls would be dealt with on David's accord, and only God'; would save them.

꧁_꧂

Something inside Joel forced him awake. It was a whisper tickling the back of his mind. Gently, it eased his eyes open. The location of the basement dimmed the light of the sun that fought its way through. Flickering its way down to the concrete floor, the light touched particles that bounced in the air. They shimmered as the air flew them around.

In his daze, Joel's dark eyes followed the dust as they captured the sun's light. A soft smile crept onto his face. The sun's light reminded him of his dream. It was such a good one. One he hoped to make real—him and his girls. Just as fast as the smile had come, it had faded into something more grim. His girls.

The whisper in his mind grew louder and louder. Words that were once fumbling together now became apparent. "There are men coming, okay?" He heard Piper's voice as it struck away the fog clouding his mind. "I’m gonna lead them away from you, but if anybody makes it down here, you fucking kill them. You got it?"

Joel nodded to an empty basement, and his face paled upon realization. The girls were gone. He shot up, wincing from the pain in his stomach. The guns were gone. The familiar colors of Ellie's purple and Piper's orange coats were replaced with the wooden walls of the basement. His girls were gone.

A cool metal burned his skin, causing him to look down. Ellie's knife. He'd recognize it anywhere. She never let it leave her sight. It had been a gift from Piper. Joel's grip around the knife tightened. His girls. Where were they?

A cloud of dust fell down the ceiling, catching more of the sunlight. Joel froze before looking up. The floor above creaked as footsteps pounded down. Whoever the steps belonged to was trying to be quiet, but they were heavy on their feet—almost sluggish, Joel noted. His girls' footsteps didn't sound like that. Ellie held the weight of her feet on her toes, and her step was springy.

On the other hand, Piper's step was silent. It was almost as if she floated above the ground with how she walked. Joel knew his girls, and whoever was above wasn't them.

The footsteps stilled momentarily, and then a screech was heard as something dragged across the floor. It was an unmistakable noise. Close to the door. Joel stifled his groan as he stood up to a standing position. Clutching the knife close to his body, he quickly scanned the basement for a place to hide. Creeping into a dark corner, Joel held his breath and waited.

Footsteps descended the stairs. Joel heard the heavy breath of the invader, and the shakiness of his hands at the gun he held rumbled between his hands. The man had crept deeper into the basement, flipping around for any sign of Joel. With his back turned Joel saw his chance. He pounced on the man, wrapping an arm around the man's neck.

He struggled and fought Joel's grip, dropping his gun to favor his hands. They beat against Joel's arm before coming to a still once a sharp blade pierced his jugular. The man fell weak and turned to look at Joel, who drove the blade deeper. Blood squirted out, spraying all over Joel's hands. As the man fell, his weight dragged Joel down with him, and with a deadly grin on his face, the man died.

Joel released his grip on the blade and yanked it out of the man's neck. Blood pooled out of the wound and spilled onto the concrete floor. Joel groaned as the wound on his side sent flashes of pain along his body. His lungs wheezed and craved the restful slumber he had before, but now wasn't the time for slumber. Piper wouldn't have let this man get into the basement. He'd seen how she killed that boy. He'd seen her fight. The only way she'd let it happen was if she was gone.

He knew now what happened. Joel understood from the footsteps outside the basement that his girls were gone. These people had come to hunt them. If it were a hunt they wanted, he'd give it to them. He'd get his girls back.

꧁_꧂

The floor was cold and uninviting when Piper woke up. A chill rolled through her body quickly to be replaced with pain. In waves, it rippled from her thigh, roaring as it left echoes of agony in its wake. Her breath tensed as the pain reached her chest. Hastily, she clutched at her head and leg to ease it. That's when she felt it, the coarse cotton of a bandage. Peering through the sweat and tears, Piper saw her leg neatly wrapped up. She felt around the bandage and almost immediately regretted her decision, biting her lip to stop the cry of distress that thrashed within her.

"I started worrying you wouldn’t wake up." A ghostly voice said.

Whirling around, Piper caught sight of David. He stood outside her cell with a smile on his face. Piper scowled as she took in her surroundings. A chain-link fence tied the walls together, trapping her in a cage.

"Don't worry, it was a clean shot. The bullet went right through," David noted, pointing to the leg Piper had been clinging onto.

"Where's my sister?" Piper asked. Her voice seemed alien to her with how hoarse and dry it was. It was as if she was speaking on the edge of death.

David folded his arms across his body and looked down at Piper. "She's safe with us," he assured her, and his smile grew large upon seeing Piper's reaction. "You'll see her soon."

Piper lunged at David, only to be stopped by the fence. She violently shook it, causing the room to erupt in a screeching fit. "Let me out, you fucker." Piper screamed.

"Well, that’s certainly the goal," David chuckled.

Feeling another spasm of pain from her leg, Piper collapsed to the floor. "Why am I in a cage?"

Crouching down to her level, David answered. "Because I’m afraid of you. You’re a dangerous person." His eyes slowly looked Piper over, leaving trails of goosebumps over her skin. "You’ve certainly proven that. The others, they want me to kill you for all that’s happened. Did you hear me say the others wanna kill you?"

"Yeah," Piper coughed, her original voice poking through.

"But I stopped them," David added and leaned in close as if he wanted Piper to be grateful and get on the floor and beg for forgiveness.

"I don't need your fucking protection," Piper snarled before spitting into David's face. She watched as David's smile faded.

With jerky motions, he flicked her spit off his cheek. "Well…," he said, returning to his terrifying gentle expression. "Why don’t we just start with your name?"

"Buster Hi-Man," Piper smirked.

Something in David snapped, and he lunged for Piper but stopped before reaching the fence. "Hey, listen to me!" He yelled. "You can’t survive on your own. No one can. But I can help you. Let me protect you."

Piper growled at David, and through clenched teeth, she corrected him. "I’m not on my own."

"Right," David scoffed. "Your friend. And how is he? I can see how much you care about him, so I know it hurts. But even so…" he looked at her leg and sighed. "You gotta face reality. That part of your life is ending. And what I’m offering you is a beginning. But if you can’t find a way to trust me… then, yes, you are alone."

"Fuck you," Piper hissed. She couldn't let David see how deep her words cut. Joel was out there. She had left him with those monsters. She had let them capture Ellie. She had failed. She had failed Riley. She had failed Tess. She had failed Henry and Sam. Now, she has failed Joel and Ellie. She had failed, and now she was truly alone.

"Everything happens for a reason," David muttered with a smug smile. Pushing off his feet, he stood up and walked to the door of the room Piper was being held in.

"Where the fuck is my sister?!" Piper roared.

"Like I said," David said, peeking over his shoulder. "She's safe. Maybe she'll be smarter than you. I can keep her safe. I can protect her, unlike you. Ponder what I've said."

With that, David was gone, and Piper was alone. Piper had failed, and now she was alone.

꧁_꧂

Joel had hunted. It was easy to take out the two other men who were after him. With one swift bang of the butt of the rifle, he had knocked them out and tied them up in the living room of the house he and the girls sought safety in. He'd find his girls and bring them home.

The first man was a denier. He pleaded with Joel as he brought his hand to his face, beating him over and over. If the man wouldn't speak, Joel would tear it out of him.

"Stop… stop. Please," the raider begged as Joel punched him again. A sharp groan escapes his mouth.

Joel withdrew his hand and reached for Ellie's knife. In doing so, he saw the other man awake. With a threatening smile, Joel raised the knife for the other man to see.

"Leave him alone," the other demanded.

Joel ignored him and instead tuned into the raider before him. He kept spouting the exact words. "Please… I don’t know any girls," he cried. Joel clenched his jaw and stabbed the knife deep into the man's thigh before twisting it. "Oh, fuck!" The raider screamed as his body involuntarily squirmed.

"Jesus!" The other raider whispered, alerting his fellow man to his presence.

"Marco," the raider called out, leaning his back to catch a glimpse of his partner.

Joel snatched the raider's head and yanked it forward, forcing the man to look at him. "No-no, no-no-no. He can’t help you," Joel used the knife to point to himself. "You focus right here. Or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off." He placed the knife at an angle to do just as he said. The tip of the knife dug under the skin, and the raider whimpered.

"She’s alive," the man confessed. "Both of 'em."

"Where?" Joel growled, leaving the tip of the knife embedded in the man's knee, but he didn't answer. Joel's body tensed as the urge to live up to his promise became stronger and stronger. But today wasn't the day Joel would fight his violent urges. His girls were gone. Whoever was with these men took them, and Joel would get them back. He pulled the knife back and stabbed it back in, lifting it.

A raw scream erupted from the man's throat. "Ah, fuck! Fuck! Ah, the town!" He shrieked.

It wasn't enough. None of the answers were enough. He pulled the knife with as much force as he could muster. "What town?!" He roared in the man's face.

"Silver Lake," the man whimpered, and Joel twisted the knife. "Ah! It’s not a real town name. It’s a resort," he exclaimed.

"A resort?" Joel asked. The man didn't respond fast enough, so Joel twisted the knife further into his knee and leaned in close. "You’re gonna point to where we are… and where your “resort” is. And it better be the same spot your buddy points to," Joel warned.

Taking the knife out of where it impaled the raider, Joel shoved the knife's handle into the man's mouth. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a map. Carefully unfolding it, he held it open for the raider and awaited his answer.

With a trembling head, the raider used the knife to point to a location on the map. "Okay," Joel muttered, marking the spot in his mind.

"…That’s where we are. I swear. Go ask him. He’ll tell you. I’m not lying," The raider explained.

Joel stood up and removed Ellie's knife from the man's mouth. He nodded as his mind absorbed the raider's words. They were to be his last. Within the blink of an eye, Joel drove Ellie's knife into the heart of the man. The blade twisted as the man's life slowly faded from his eyes.

He had died faster than Joel liked. The more pain he could give these men, the better, but that required time. Time his girls didn't have, so he had to settle for a swift, bloody end. Pulling the blade out, Joel marched over to Marco, who scrambled to escape.

"No… no!" Marco cried. "Shit! Jesus! No! Why the fuck did you do that?! He told you what you wanted!"

Joel wiped Ellie's blade and carefully placed it in his jacket pocket. Then he picked up a pipe he had taken from one of the raiders. The metal felt light as he flipped it in his hands. Then he sauntered over to Marco, who resorted to cursing out Joel.

"You motherfucker. Fuck you. I ain’t tellin’ you shit." Marco spat at Joel.

"It’s okay…," Joel coolly said. "I believe him."

He raised the pipe in the air as if praising the heavens above. Then, allowing the weight of gravity to take over, Joel brought the pipe down. Marco didn't have time to scream his god's name before his face resembled a dirtied bowl that not even the devil would use.

꧁_꧂

Ellie snickered to herself about her captors' stupidity. They had put her in a cage with a window. While the window was too tall for Ellie to reach on her own, her captors kept a bucket in the cage. Flipping the bucket upside down, Ellie placed it under the window, stepped up, and jumped. Her hands caught the bottom of the windowsill. Grunting, she bent her arms in an attempt to pull herself up.

It failed, and Ellie was no longer laughing. Maybe her captors were more competent than she thought. Hearing footsteps outside her prison door, Ellie pushed herself up and pulled the bucket away from the window. By the time the door flung open, Ellie had shoved herself into a corner far away from the bucket and window.

"It's good you're awake," David greeted. Your sister woke up a while ago," he mentioned as he pulled a chair to Ellie's cage.

Ellie's head shot up and ground her teeth together. "What the fuck did you do to my sister?"

David smiled and waved off her aggression. "She's fine. You know, my people," he added. "They wanted to kill her. She killed two of our men. It only seemed fair, but I stopped them. I protected her. I can protect you, too. How are you feeling?"

"Eat shit," Ellie growled before tucking herself as far as she could go into the corner.

David smiled before looking to his side. He picked up a bowl and slid it through Ellie's prison bars to her. "Here, this is for you."

Ellie glanced at the bowl and scowled, but it soon faded with the look of pure horror. Beyond where David sat lay a bloodied ear. Ellie glanced down at the bowl of soup containing chunks of thick meat. She felt sick.

"For what it’s worth," David added, "this is just deer meat. I swear."

"You’re gonna chop us up into little pieces," Ellie accused.

Shaking his head, David replied. "I’d rather not. Please, just tell me your name." She refused to answer. She wasn't giving this fucker her name. "If you wanna judge me–"

"Judge you?" Ellie shouted from the top of her lungs. as she kicked the bowl out of the cell. The glass shattered as it hit the wall. "You’re eating people, you sick fuck!"

"Yes," David agreed with a soft voice as if he was trying to quiet Ellie. "There are only a few of us that know. But I would’ve told you. Sooner or later. I guess sooner,' he shrugged.

"You’re an animal," Ellie hissed.

"Well, yes, we all are," David said. "That’s sorta the point." With a deep sigh, David continued. "It was a last resort. You think it doesn’t shame me? But what was I supposed to do? Let them starve? These people who put their lives in my hands, who expect me to keep them safe, who love me?"

Ellie scoffed. "Yeah, maybe."

Stepping closer to the cage, David adamantly shook his head. "You don’t believe that. I don’t think your friend would either. Didn’t he take another man’s life to save yours?" Ellie turned away. She couldn't bear to look at the monster anymore. "What about your sister? She took two men's lives. She did it for you."

"They were defending themselves," Ellie refuted.

"They were defending you. But you knew that. You see a lot. So do I. And you know what I see when I look at you? Me. You remind me of me," David stated. Ellie wanted to throw up. "You’re a natural leader, you’re smart… loyal. Violent."

"You don’t know anything about me," Ellie replied.

"But I do," David corrected. "If I let you out of that cage right now, put that knife of yours in your hand, you’d stick me in a second. You have a violent heart. And I should know. I’ve always had a violent heart. And I struggled with it for a long time. But then the world ended, and I was shown the truth."

"Right…," Ellie rolled her eyes. "…by God."

"No. By Cordyceps," David said. Ellie's brows pinched together, and she turned to look at David. "What does Cordyceps do?" David continued, having caught Ellie's attention. "Is it evil? No. It’s fruitful. It multiplies. It feeds and protects its children, and it secures its future with violence if it must. It loves."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Ellie's feet had pulled her closer to the bars of her cell. Her hand wrapped around the cool metal and squeezed it with the image of David's neck in her mind.

"Because you can handle it. The way the others can’t. They need God. They need heaven. They need…," David paused and looked at Ellie. Cautiously, he approached her. "They need a father. You don’t. You’re beyond that. I’m a shepherd surrounded by sheep; all I want is an equal. A friend."

Ellie frowned. "What about my friend? What about my sister?"

David sighed. "Like I said, loyal. I can tell the others to stop looking for him. I can tell them to let your sister go."

The hope in Ellie's voice betrayed her. "Really? They’ll just let them go?"

"Yes," David nodded. "If they leave us in peace, my people will just let them go. They do what I tell them to do. They follow me. And they would follow us. Lord knows I could use the help." Taking the final steps, David stood directly in front of Ellie. The only thing separating them were the bars of the cage. "I– Look what’s happened. Think of what we could do together, as strong as we are. We’d make this place perfect. We’d grow, spread out. And we’d do whatever we needed for our people. Imagine the life we could give them. Imagine the life we could build." Then David gently wrapped his hands around Ellie's.

Chills were sent down Ellie's spine as she turned a ghostly white. "Oh," Ellie muttered. She hesitantly looked up at David as his finger began to rub against the skin of her hand. The shock on Ellie's face was wiped clean and replaced with a deadly snarl. She grabbed David's finger and pulled. She pulled until she heard that snap.

"Ah, ah!" David screamed and pulled his arm back, but Ellie wasn't done. She would break every bone in his hand and then move to his arm until David was a pool of shattered bones. She yanked his arm back, but David was too strong. With one swift pull, he freed his hand and pulled Ellie into the poles of her prison.

Ellie fell to the floor, clutching her bleeding nose. Her fingers gently pressed against the ridge of her nose. It wasn't broken. She knew what a broken nose felt like. After all, she had broken Piper's.

"You little cunt," David cursed, clutching his broken fingers. "Let’s see what I go tell the others now. Let's see what I tell them about your sister and friend."

"Ellie," Ellie said through the blood and pain. It trickled down from her nose and into her mouth.

"What?" David lowly asked, turning away from the door.

"Tell them," Ellie began, "that Ellie is the little girl who broke your fucking finger!"

David stood stunned as he took in Ellie's appearance. Her face was bloodied and filled with raw rage. Biting his tongue, David glowered at Ellie. "How did you put it? Hmm? “Tiny little pieces”?" Then David was gone, and Ellie was alone.

She was alone, and her strength faded. Her eyes only held fear. She was trapped here with cannibalistic cultists. She only wanted to help Piper. She had heard the gunshot and freaked out. She only did it to save Piper; instead, Ellie led the monster to them. They had Piper. Her panic only multiplied as the image of the ear burned in her brain. They were going to kill her and Piper and who knows what else.

Tears mixed in with the blood that fell from Ellie's face. It was her fault. She left Joel alone with those fuckers. She got herself and Piper caught. She was the reason they were going to be killed. If only she had listened. If only she didn't curse everyone around her. Everyone left. No matter how much she clung to them, they'd leave one way or another, and they'd leave because of her. The more Ellie thought about it, maybe she was the reason. After all, she was the reason Henry and Sam died. She couldn't cure him. Hell, she was the reason Tess and Riley died. She was the reason Piper got caught. She was the reason Joel was alone and dying.

Ellie no longer fought the sobs that fled her mouth. She was a curse, and she was alone, utterly alone.

꧁_꧂

Spite filled Piper's being once the doors to her prison flung open. She jumped back as David and James surged into the room. "Welcome back, you fucker. Oh, brought back up. Scared of little old me?"

David ignored her taunting and fumbled with the lock, keeping her cage closed. Piper scoffed and opened her mouth to spill more curses when the door flung open.

David and the other man lunged for her as they reached for her arms and legs. She ducked before slamming the man closest to her into the brick wall. A sweet crack filled the air as the man swung his hands to clutch his broken, bleeding nose.

"Fuck!" he cried before shooting Piper a glare as he jumped back to his feet. He looked at David, and the two nodded before stepping closer to Piper.

With each step they took, Piper took one back. Suddenly, her hands felt the cool metal of the cage. She was cornered. In the blink of an eye, firm hands squeezed her arms. Then, her legs were lifted into the air. Piper screamed.

"Get off of me! Fuck off." She swung her head around, trying to bite anything she could grab, and found James' hand. He bit his tongue as her teeth entered his skin, drawing blood.

"I tried to redeem you," David scolded her as his hands were replaced by another's, the man who shot her in the leg. "To save you in God's eyes, but you're too far gone. The devil has claimed you."

"Fuck you," Piper growled as she flailed around.

"Take her and bring her to the other one," David instructed them. The men nodded and began to drag Piper out of the room. She scratched, screamed, bit, cried, and did anything she could to free herself, but to no avail. They were going to kill her and kill Ellie too. Piper had failed, and now she was going to die.

꧁_꧂

No matter how much pain he was in, Joel had to keep going. It was as if the blood pumping through his veins was replaced with the need to ensure his girls were safe and back in his arms. Even if the wind and snow howled at him and the cold bit his skin, he kept going. He had to save his girls.

Despite the fogginess the whirling snow created, Joel had found the resort. It was huge, buildings lined, what Joel assumed was the road. As he passed, most of them were empty. Glass windows were broken, and dust and snow littered the insides. Yet he continued. His girls had to be safe so he could tell them they were no longer cargo. He needed to tell them his dream and to share it with them. It was vital he found them, and Joel knew if he couldn't, he'd be gone.

It seemed so long ago his only goal was to find Tommy. Tommy. Tommy. Tommy. The girls were a means to an end to get to Tommy and his family. But fate had a different plan, and the girls stuck around longer than Joel intended. With each horrible joke from Ellie's mouth and eye roll from Piper, Joel found his goal to be changing. Yes, he needed to find Tommy, but most of all, he was searching for his family. He found Tommy and discovered Tommy had a family of his own. With the smiling faces of Maria and his unborn kid, Joel knew Tommy didn't need him anymore, but Joel needed someone.

So, as Joel lay in the dark in the bedroom, he claimed it was his own, and he gazed up to the heavens. The longer his gaze lingered, the denser Joel. What was he looking for in the darkness, staring at the ceiling? He stared that whole night, and as the sun trickled in between the bent plastic blinds, Joel's mind awakened. Joel had his family. They had been with him all along. He'd found them under his gun in a hallway in the QZ. Piper and Ellie became his girls, and most of all, they became his family. Just as quickly as he found them, he lost them as fast. They were taken, trying to protect him and their family.

Clenching his jaw, Joel pushed further into the storm. Leaning his back against the stone wall of one of the buildings, he caught his breath. The wound in his side seared with pain. He quickly checked it for blood. It wasn't bleeding, yet the snow around him was red. With narrowed eyes and careful steps, Joel followed the trail of blood into the building.

He found the door to be unlocked and stepped inside. With his flashlight equipped, he searched the room for any sign of his girls. It didn't take long for him to set sights on the girl's bags tucked underneath a table. He frowned, pushing himself to a stand. The girls were here. The raiders hadn't lied. Making a mental note of the bag's location, Joel pressed forward.

Not one of Joel's steps rang out across the building as he continued his search. His flashlight flickered as it bounced from wall to wall, searching for Ellie and Piper. Suddenly, his light stilled. The beam floated towards the beams in the ceiling. Tied from the beams were three bodies. Their heads were gone, and their skin was paler than white as they dangled from the ceiling.

Joel felt all sense wash away from him. He no longer felt the jabbing pain in his side or the way his lungs heaved air in and out of his lungs. Instead, the purest form of fear entered his body. It infected every inch like a disease, invoking an urge he hadn't felt in twenty years. It was intuitive paternal protection. If it was clear before, Joel had to get his girls out, and he'd do anything to get them back.

꧁_꧂

As the door flung open, Piper's ears were met with the worst sound in the world: Ellie's screaming.

"No! No! No," Ellie screamed as David tried to grab her. With one swipe, he snatched the collar of her shirt, pulling her in. She jabbed her fingers in his face and bit his hand, forcing him to drop her, only to find his boot kicking her down to the ground. Ellie coughed and wheezed as she protected her head from David's attack.

"Get off of me! Get off!" Her violent shakes grew stronger as she tried to free herself from the grasp of her captors. "Ellie!" Piper called out to her sister as David stepped out of her cage, closing the door behind him.

"Shut up!" James yelled at Piper as they dragged her

Ellie pushed her head off the ground, allowing Piper to look at her sister. Blood steadily flowed from Ellie's nose down her face. Scratches littered her sister's once-pale skin. "Piper!" Ellie croaked, raising a hand to reach towards her sister.

Suddenly, there was a thud, and the oxygen in Piper's lungs disappeared. She gasped for air and clenched her fists as James and the other man held her down on the table.

Ellie began to scream again. The words were incoherent in Piper's mind as the assailant from before squeezed her bullet wound. With a knowing smile, he watched as Piper jerked around in pain.

A silver glint appeared. A hand was placed beside her head. Above her stood David with a cleaver raised.

Air fled back into Piper's lungs. "Wait, wait!" She pleaded, shaking her body even more.

"Shut up!" James yelled again.

"Hold her still," David commanded as he steadied the blade above Piper's neck. Her eyes widened as the fight began to drain from her body. She was going to die. She knew it, and after she was dead, they were going to kill Ellie. Piper had failed. She had failed Ellie.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait! Don’t! Don’t do it!" Ellie cried out. She clung to the chain link fence and shook it. "Please, don’t do it! Please, don’t! Don’t!"

"You had your chance," David reminded her.

Ellie's breath escaped her lungs faster than her heartbeat. "We're infected!" She exclaimed. "We're infected. Both of us!"

James scoffed and then glanced down at Piper. He froze. His grip weakened as the sight sank deep into his mind. It was a bite mark. Piper had been bitten. Ellie also flashed her bite mark in her cage, lulling James' eyes to her wound.

The room grew quiet as James looked to the other men for guidance. His hand was still bleeding from when Piper had bitten him.

"And now, so are you," Piper chuckled. "What did you say? Everything happens for a reason, right?"

"David," James whispered, but David didn't hear him over the sound of his own heart beating in his ears. Ellie had bitten him. She was infected. Both of the girls were infected.

Shaking his head, David began to pray and not the scripted bullshit he continuously repeated for his flock. For the first time, he began to truly pray to the God he always preached about. "No. No, they would’ve turned by now." He tried to assure himself and James. "This isn’t real."

"It looks pretty fuckin’ real to me," James cried.

The other man released his grip on Piper. His feet failed him as he stumbled away from the table, checking his skin. There wasn't a bite mark. He was safe. He glanced between James and David.

"You're infected. You-"

"Now, Peter," David began calming the man down.

"You're infected," Peter gasped before running out the doors.

Piper grinned, seeing her chance, and flung herself off the table at David, knocking the knife out of his hand and forcing him to the ground. Jumping up, she scrambled to open Ellie's cage. With swift hands, she swung it open and pulled her sister out.

"Ellie! Run!" Piper yelled, shoving her sister out the door. Ellie listened this time, and this time, she regretted what she did.

Once the door settled, James retrieved the cleaver and pounced on Piper. She grunted as they toppled to the ground.

"I've got her!" James yelled to David. "Go!" With another word, David ran after Ellie.

Piper screamed and thrashed as she watched David chase after her sister. But there was nothing she could do. James sat above her, forcing the cleaver down closer and closer to her neck. Yet Piper fought. Her arms shook as they pushed against James' weight. Her eyes began to darken, and her heart thundered. Despite her efforts, the cleaver came closer. Tears formed in her eyes as she kicked her legs. She was going to die.

The silver blade shined in the faint light of the sun as it sliced her face. From her right eyebrow to cheek, her face burned. It was a scalding, searing pain as she felt warm blood trickle down her face. She pushed back, but the blade sunk deeper and deeper. Her dark eyes widened as the blade's fine edge hovered above her eye.

In one last effort to force James off of her, Piper gritted her teeth and screamed as she kicked him in between his legs. His eyes bulged, and his grip loosened. Turning his force against him, she swung the blade into her hands. The silver blade shone no longer as blood splattered over the walls, onto the floor, and Piper.

The blade never clattered to the ground as Piper pulled it back and drove it deeper into James' neck, except it wasn't James she saw, with his blue eyes and scraggly beard. Instead, she saw a face that only haunted her nightmares: Levi. She swung and swung until her hands were drenched in red. Her tears stung as the blade finally clattered to the floor. It was then Piper realized the room was darker than it was before. Clouds of gray and black filled the air.

Tilting her head, her eyes followed the trail. It was smoke, and it came from beyond the doors. That's where Ellie had run. Piper's heart clenched, and she grabbed her chest, wincing in pain. Ellie, she thought. She had to get Ellie. She had to save Ellie. Piper pushed herself to her feet. Her eyesight grew muddier as blood continued to flow into her eyes. She tried blinking it away, but her face spasmed in pain. It was as if the pain on her face caused a chain reaction; Her leg buckled from underneath her, bringing her to the floor. Instead of a hand touching the door handle, it was her head. Piper's head hit the floor with a smash, and her world grew black.

The darkness was a sweet relief from the pain and fear. There was no monster hovering above her. In the darkness, she was a kid again, safe in her room with her sister tucked beside her. She could dream in the dark. She could dream of that farm with the sheep and her family sitting beside her. Anything was possible in the darkness, so Piper sank deeper into the darkness.

꧁_꧂

EXTREME TRIGGER WARNING IN THIS SECTION! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

Ellie ran. Piper had told her to do so, and she ran. The doors she opened only seemed to end in more doors. Twirling around, she searched for anything to protect herself with just in case it wasn't Piper who came after her. She was in a kitchen now. Knives hung from the walls, too high up for Ellie to reach. If she had time, she'd grab them, but time was not on Ellie's side. A glint of red and orange from beneath the stove caught her eye. It was the remnants of a fire still lingering on a chunk of wood. Without much thought, she snatched it and ran through the next pair of doors.

Wood and shades of red clashed together as the new room appeared. Seats, tables, and benches were everywhere. Ellie darted between the tables for the glass door, for freedom. When she reached the door and pushed, it didn't budge. It was locked. Cursing, Ellie whipped her head around. She had to hide until she could get out or until Piper found her.

Hiding behind a wooden wall, Ellie crouched down and caught her breath. Her ears listened for any sign of Piper or an oncoming assailant. There was a deafening creak as the doors swung on their hinges. The footsteps Ellie heard following were heavy and frantic. This wasn't Piper. Holding her breath, Ellie waited until the footsteps were a few paces away before she jumped out. With all her strength, Ellie threw the stick. It flew towards David, who ducked out of the way. The stick landed underneath a window. The remaining fire flew onto the curtains, swarming the fabric with desperate flames.

The fire grew upwards, reaching the ceiling before spreading over the chairs and benches. Crackles came from the fire as it consumed everything around it.

"There’s no way out, Ellie," David said as he stalked around the dining hall. His steps were calculated as he peered under each table for Ellie. "The doors are locked. And I have the keys. Ellie?" David cooed. "Ellie!"

From underneath a nearby table, Ellie squeezed her body tighter. She needed to be invisible until Piper came. Ellie knew Piper would save her from David. After all, her sister had made a promise.

"Ellie…" David called out as he continued his hunt. "I know you’re not infected. No one infected fights this hard to stay alive. So… how did you two do it? What’s the secret? Or are you girls just that fucking special?"

The roaring fire had consumed most of the building. Clouds of smoke soared from the flames, filling the air. Ellie's lungs tensed as the black mist threatened to enter them. She crept deeper into her hiding place, covering her mouth to stifle any coughs.

"No one likes being humiliated, Ellie. You don’t know how good I am! You don’t know what I could’ve given you! If you had just let me!" David's search grew more frantic as he searched for Ellie.

Meanwhile, the young girl darted from spot to spot until she crept behind the bar. With shaking hands, she picked up a steak knife and held it close, ready to strike if needed. Sweat clung to her skin, and worry filled her mind. Where was Piper?

Suddenly, an ear-piercing scream erupted from the back room. Ellie shuddered and slapped her free hand over her mouth. It was Piper. The scream seemed to last an eternity before the sound was abruptly silenced. Ellie whimpered as the blaring quiet filled her ears.

"Did you hear that Ellie? That was the sound of your sister dying. She has failed you. I won't fail you. I never will if you'll let me!" David yelled with a gleeful smile on his face. From her hiding spot, Ellie began to cry. Piper wasn't coming to save her.

"Ellie," David taunted as his steps grew closer to Ellie's hiding place. "I have news for you. Neither one of us is dying today. You see, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided you do need a father. So I’m gonna keep you… and I’m gonna teach you. Ellie. Ellie…"

With tears and blood adorning her face, Ellie crept out of her hiding place. David's back was turned to the raging fires. Instantly, Ellie lunged and stabbed the steak knife into David's side as he turned and swung the cleaver at her. She ducked before tripping over her feet and bringing herself to the floor.

Above her, David groaned as he pulled the knife out of his side. "Ah, fuck," he cursed, clutching his side. He pulled back his hand, which was dripping blood. Biting his lips, his venomous eyes trailed over Ellie as she crawled along the floor. Her hands desperately reached for the cleaver David had dropped in their struggle. He took a step before swinging his leg into her stomach. He kicked and kicked, forcing a grunt of pain to escape from Ellie's mouth.

When she turned on her back, he pounced. His hands flew to hers, forcefully holding her down as he sat down on her legs, keeping them still. Ellie screamed as she thrashed around. David leaned in close, and Ellie spit. Pulling back, David chuckled; "Oh. I thought you already knew. The fighting is the part I like the most."

Ellie screamed as loud as she could. It was a call for anyone willing to save her. She begged that it reached her sister's ears, so that just maybe, Piper would awake from the dead to rescue her. But the dead don't return that quickly. Next, she screamed for Joel, who lay dying in the basement. Maybe he'd be able to hear her call and save her. Someone had to come for Ellie. Someone. Anyone.

"Don’t be afraid," David soothed as Ellie continued to scream. “There’s no fear in love.”

As David released one of her hands to reach downward, Ellie reached. No one was coming to save her. Piper was gone. She risked her life for Ellie's escape. Joel wasn't here. No one would save her, so she had to save herself. Her finger brushed against the handle of the cleaver. Pulling it down, she grasped the handle and, with all her might, swung it down onto David's neck.

David fell back, struggling to stop the blood from falling from his body. Gurgles escaped his mouth when he tried to speak, but Ellie wasn't listening. She was saving herself. She brought it down repeatedly with her hands clinging tightly to the cleaver. As the blade cut deeper into David's face and body, Ellie cried. She cried for her loss: her sister, her childhood, Joel, Tess, Riley, Henry and Sam. No one came to save her, and Ellie was alone.

The fire raged on as curtains fell into piles of ash. The wooden walls and ceilings turned dark as the flames consumed them. Hovering David's body, the orange and red blaze reached out to Ellie. The heat was trying to comfort her mourning heart. Stumbling to her feet, Ellie brushed the gentle flames aside and headed towards the door's light. With bloody and trembling hands, she placed the key into the lock and stepped out into the bitter cold.

Smoke trickled out as the door opened. Her body shivered, and her feet sluggishly wobbled in the snow. She had nothing now. There was no Joel and Piper. Her coat and bag were stolen from her when she arrived. The only thing she had was herself. In a daze, she shuffled forward deeper into the snowstorm.

Suddenly, a pair of large dark hands flew onto her shoulders. Ellie screamed and flailed her arms around. "No! Get off of me! Get off!" She pleaded.

"Ellie," a deep, gentle voice uttered. "It’s me."

"Get–" Ellie yelled as the hands turned her around.

"Ellie," the voice repeated her name and a soft hand cupped her cheeks. "It’s me."

The fog from her dark eyes faded to reveal Joel. His face was all pinched up as he looked at her. His brown eyes welcomed her in and told her she was safe. Someone had come for her. Ellie wasn't alone. Joel had found her.

"Hey…," Joel said. "Look, It’s me… It’s me. It’s okay." He brushed some of the hairs from her face away.

"He-," Ellie began to mumble.

Joel nodded and gently pulled her into his warm embrace. She didn't hesitate to place her head on his chest and allow the tears to come. Joel had come for her. "It’s okay. It’s okay, baby girl. I got you," He soothed as his hands rubbed along her back. Closing his eyes, he rested his chin against her head. Ellie was safe. He only had one more daughter to find.

"Where's Piper?" He asked and immediately felt Ellie's legs grow weak. His grip tightened as he held her up.

Choking on her sobs, Ellie peered up at Joel. "She-she's," Ellie's voice shook. "I heard her scream. It was so loud. Joel, she's-"

"Okay," Joel said as he looked at the building Ellie had emerged from. "Ellie, I need you to come with me. We need to fi-"

The shrieking sound of glass shattering filled the air. Smoke tumbled out from the side of the building, pulling Joel and Ellie's attention. What they heard next was quiet. It was a plea for help. It was Piper.

꧁_꧂

Pain. It's all Piper felt once her eyes opened. The room was as dark as her unconsciousness had been. Piper's lungs heaved as they remembered to breathe, only finding nothing to take in except for dark, heavy smoke. As coughs erupted from her chest, Piper felt her body grow weaker than it had ever been before. The temptation to fall back into the darkness grew too much. It had been so welcoming and peaceful, but the darkness couldn't give her everything. The darkness couldn't hold Ellie and Joel.

She placed her hands in the sticky pool of blood that had seeped out of her and pushed herself to a stand. Her hand instinctively covered her mouth as she opened the door she had seen Ellie run out of. As the metal doors opened, a roaring fire was ready to greet her. Quickly, she closed the door and turned around for a new escape.

Above her, a faint light seeped through the dark fog of black. She limped over to the countertops and pulled herself atop them. She prayed Ellie made it out and ran. It was the only thing keeping her going. If Ellie was gone, she might as well sink back into the fire and smoke and return to the darkness.

Standing tall, Piper reached her hands into the air. Her scorched and bloodied fingers felt the cold glass windows. She banged against them, fighting the smoke that forced its way down into her lungs. The windows refused to open. She grew more desperate with each hit. She had to get out. She wanted to live. She needed to find Ellie and Joel.

A glint shone through the darkness. A metal rolling pin glimmered. Piper dragged her feet along to grasp it. Her arms dropped down from the weight. This would break the glass, Piper thought as she lugged it back to the window. She raised it and swung. The metal thudded against the glass. She swung again. The glass cracked. Swinging one final time, the glass shattered. Using the pin, Piper enlarged the hole so that it was big enough for her to crawl through before dropping the pin to the ground.

Piper's knees buckled beneath her as the rolling pin clattered to the floor, and she fell. She was so tired. Her lungs had given up any fight to inhale only breathable air. Her wounds continued to scream in pain as red liquid soaked her skin. Everything in her body told her to crawl into a ball and welcome the fire. However, her heart and mind sang a different tune. It was a song of freedom. It was her dream.

Struggling to stand, Piper clung to the walls, searching for anything to help her up. She reached to the window and clenched her fingers around the ledge. Her muscles strained against her will to pull herself out. Glass dug into the palms of her hand as she forced herself off the counter and into the air. Flinging her elbow onto the ledge, she kicked her legs into the air, allowing her second elbow to gain a grip. With both arms on the windowsill, she pushed down, throwing herself through the window.

A cry fled her mouth as she removed her hands and arms from the window. Shards of glass embedded themselves deep into her skin, and even more blood fell from her wounds. Swinging her legs around, Piper jumped. She welcomed the white snow, which immediately turned a dark pink.

Her head rang with a static noise as her world began to spin. Something loud was crying out into the air. She winced, trying to make sense of it.

"Piper!" Joel and Ellie called out. They ran to her fallen body in the snow. Joel's knees fell to the ground as his hands wrapped around her broken body. Worry and guilt filled his being as he took in her torn-up figure. With heavy eyes, Piper looked up at Joel and Ellie. Ellie was in tears as she lunged for her sister, enveloping her in a desperate hug. Meanwhile, Joel took both girls in his large embrace. He held them tight to fight off the biting winter cold.

His daughters were home in his arms. His daughters were alive. His shirt grew wetter the longer they sat in the snow, holding onto each other.

"It's okay," he whispered into their ears. "I've got you. I've got you."

꧁_꧂

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