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doromoni · 1 month

Text

Lunch Preferences | LN4

Ships: Lando Norris x Personal Chef! Reader , Platonic! Oscar Piastri x Personal Chef! Reader

Warnings : None

Genre: fluff

Summary : Oscar’s food always tasted better and Lando finds out why.

Part 2

Lando was never adventurous when it came to certain things , most importantly when it came to the food that he consumed — His best friend Max could vouch on that , heck the entire grid and the whole McLaren hospitality can say it.

When it came down to it , when Lando didn’t like the ingredient used in the meal served in the Motorhome cafeteria, a special meal is always prepared for the Golden Boy of Mclaren. Most find it funny but the kitchen staff found it extremely annoying; to them Lando was a diva.

Kitchen personnel and caterers are shuffled within motorhomes and during races in different countries and it became problematic for Mclaren due to the new personnel’s lack of knowledge of their driver’s preferences. Funnily enough, this has become an issue much so that a protocol has been made stating that when a new driver is signed they are given their own personal chef that tours around with them during the races.

Cut to Oscar Piastri joining the Papaya Family , and Y/n L/n had been added to the roster. The Australian driver and Y/n had met during Oscar’s F2 season and had quickly formed a bond , by bond meaning Y/N fuels Oscar’s obsession with sweets. The aussie became obsessed so much that when the “personal chef” clause came up in his contract, his immediate answer was “ Y/N L/N”.

“Osc what the hell, What do you mean you got me a job at Mclaren? Are you high on sugar again?” You asked in disbelief as you stared at the Australian , an eyebrow raised.

You and Oscar are currently in his kitchen in his apartment in the UK, you trying to bake your f2 paddock famous cookies while Oscar tries to help , emphasis on tries.

“Oh come on Y/N! You’re perfect for this. You know my likes and dislikes . Plus you know how to trick me into eating my veggies” Oscar said exasperatingly.

“ Oscar as much as I love to feed you , you know that I cant travel with you, I have a job remember? Plus Im not a professional chef , you dummy! I just cook as a passion” You muttered softly trying to get your point across.

“Then quit! I know you hate your job y/n. This is your chance! I made sure that they’ll pay you handsomely ~ more than your current pay . I swear! PLUS you get to travel with me and you get to explore food all over the world” The boy did made a whole lot of sense…

“Fine , let me see the contract” Then an enormous grin plasters itself on his face.

***

* Brownies

“Holy Crap , Mate! These brownies are killer! Where did you get these?” Logan exclaimed as he continued to stuff his face with Oscar’s snacks prepared by Y/N of course.

“My chef made them for ME , Logan. Hands off “ Oscar swatted the American’s hand as he tried to get another piece.

“What are you two idiots up-to now? “ Alex spoke as he came near the duo, Lando right on his tail.

“Oscar brought these amazing brownies and He wont share ! Come on , mate just one more” Logan once again tried to reach for the bag only to be denied once again.

“Ohhh, let me try some of that!” Alex laid out his hand , and Logan complaining in the background saying “unfair “ as Oscar gave Alex one.

“You weren’t kidding! these are good. Lando try one” Alex gestured towards Lando.

Lando looking a bit apprehensive, took the offered treat and took a bite. As the Brit chewed , he couldn’t stop eating till there was no more. Screw belgian chocolate, that brownie was his favorite food now.

“Osc , give me another.” Lando requested to his now younger teammate.

“Nope~ these are mine” Oscar grinned teasingly as he stood up , away from the reach of his fellow drivers

“Oscarrrr , give em up you muppet!” Lando whined and pouted .

“No! Ask your chef to make you one. “ oscar implored.

“But the ones they make aren’t as good as thoseee” Lando continued to whine

“I know, these is Y/N’s special recipe. “ Oscar replied mockingly, a playful grin on his face as we waved them goodbye.

“Damn, Y/N made those? No wonder they tasted amazing” Logan muttered catching the attention of Lando.

“Y/N? Who?” Lando asked , now curious .

“Oh, Y/N is our friend , well now Oscar personal chef also. We met when Oscar and I were racing in F2. She used to bring us her cooking after the race.”

“Damn, did she put cocaine on those brownies or something?” Alex said wanting another bite.

“Did you say that she’s Oscar’s chef? That would mean that she’s in Mclaren right now?” Lando asked yet again to the now bemused American.

“Yes?” And with that Lando Norris is on a mission. Find the lady who makes extremely delicious brownies.

“Y/N” Lando muttered your name under his breath as he traversed towards his own motorhome with a purpose.

Finally reaching his destination only to be bombarded by his Pr manager pulling him along towards his media duties

Lando’s brownie mission was a fail

“Hey, do you know who’s Y/N?”

* Wok fried noodles

“ Ok so , Oscar will be done in a few minutes then it will be your turn” Lando’s manager , Valerie, explained as He was getting ready for the interview set up by Mclaren for a special edition for a motorsport magazine of some sorts.

“You should take a bite of your lunch , Lan. I don’t think you’ll be getting time to do so later” valerie explained, as she nudged the now cold , barely touched container of food towards the British driver.

“But there fish in it ,Val” The brit frowned as he glanced on his supposed to be lunch. How many times did he have to say NO FISH.

“It’s not even touching th-“ valerie tried to explain but was cut of by Lando as he exclaimed

“But it’s near a fish!” To which Valerie could only sigh and nod.

Then a knock and an opening of a door happened along with Oscar popping his head in — who appears to be carrying chopsticks and a container of sorts.

“ Hey, mate! They said it’ll be your turn in 15 mins or so” Oscar said as he scoops his lunch into his mouth.

“What ya eating there bud?” Lando couldn’t help ask as the savory aroma filled his room and a rumble came to his stomach.

“Some low carb noodle dish Y/N made , not really sure what’s it called . Tasted great tho.” The Australian said .

“Lemme have a bite” Lando waved his hands towards Oscar . With a shrug , oscar did.

As He took a bite , Lando could only think of one thing.

“Where could I get myself a Y/N”

* Spring Rolls

Practice 1 had just finished and the drivers have an hour or 2 to rest and kill time . And for our youngest Aussie driver on the grid it is time to annoy his lovely friend Y/N.

“ Hey, Y/N… could you please make extra servings of what ever you’re making for my lunch?” Oscar asked sheepishly

“Osc, No! You have to follow a strict calorie count and your trainer will kill me!” You said as you stoped what you were doing .

“It’s not for me, Its for Lando! He always eats my food “ Oscar explains and you understood clearly. Nodding with a smile , you shooed Oscar away.

“Thanks , Angel! “ Oscar left but not before leaving a kiss on your head.

You then set out to make lunch for 2 drivers, and finishing by packing them separately . You never forgot to leave a message on Oscar’s meals as encouragements to your closest friend

Your eyes go towards the food intended for Lando. You were contemplating whether you should write something or not. Biting your lip you took another piece of post it and started writing.

Maybe this is your chance to get the driver’s attention and shoot your shot. You have been crushing on the British driver for who knows how long. Tutting yourself you shake your head from your thoughts and delusions.

In the post it wrote ,

Dear, Lando

A little birdie told me that you liked my cooking , ey? Oh! I heard that you liked spring rolls so I made you a few. No fish , I promise. Hope you enjoy! And good luck on the race! I’ll be cheering on the sidelines 🧡

P.S. thank Osc , he begged me to tag you along :P

— Y/N

***

Butterflies filled Lando’s stomach as he opened the lunch box you made for him. You cooking for him and writing a note felt so domestic , like a wife and husband.Lando became a giggly mess as he re-read your note again and again.

He remembered the time when he first saw you. You were with Oscar in the Mclaren motorhome , sitting on the lounge when your eyes met his and you gave Lando a smile — it was only passing but to Lando it was enough. To him you were so angelic .He imagined coming home to you and you would cook for him and all seemed fine in the world.

“ you know , you should just ask her out on a date” and suddenly Lando was startled out of his daydreaming

“Huh , what? Dreaming? Who was? “ Lando tried to act cool in front of Oscar who was now sniggering as he leaned on the doorframe.

“ I know that you like Y/N, Lando! Just ask the girl already “

“Who’s Y/N?” Oscar rolled his eyes at his teammate

“You’re both idiots .y’know? You both have goggly eyes for each other — it honestly hurts to see. Here’s her number . Please just go out. Or I swear I’ll lock the two of you in a room or something. “ Lando was flabbergasted by his teammate who was now exiting the room.

“Uhh… Thanks Osc!” The Brit broke out into a huge smile as he shouted towards the australian

“Yeah yeah , just don’t hurt her or I promise to crash into you in every race”

***

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angelltheninth · 22 days

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May I request headcanons of your top three X-men men receiving a love confession from their crush? Except the crush is really shy so the confession is incredibly awkward and nervous. Thank you! (Ps, I love Nightcrawler too!)

Right?! Nightcrawler is so cute!

Pairing: Logan "Wolverine" Howlett, Remy "Gambit" LeBeau, Kurt "Nightcrawler" Wagner x Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, love confession, first kiss as a couple, super powers, being flustered, teasing

A/N: Btw, who are your top 3 X-Men?

LOGAN HOWLETT

Oh this is too good, too cute. He's sitting back in his chair, burly arms crossed over his chest, a huge shit-eating grin on his face while you struggle to get your words out Come on, you can do it, if you can't then do you really have what it takes to date him? There's a reward in it for you if you can confess while looking at him, he guarantees you'll like what he has in mind. It's a date with him, a ride on his motorcycle, or did you have a different ride in mind?

REMY LEBEAU

Let's you finish your awkward confession and kisses you the second you get the last word out. Finally, he's been waiting forever to do that, and to hear you confess to him. He thought he was being too flirty but you were just shy weren't you? That's cute too, but hopefully you can open up to him a bit more now that he's officially your boyfriend. Did that kiss not make it clear enough for you? Then you need one more to really get it through your head.

KURT WAGNER

Wraps his tail around you before you can flee from him. Don't run now, you've put so much into that confession, don't you want to hear what he has to say as well? You don't mind if he teleports you to his room do you? Not for anything lewd of course, he would never take advantage of you feelings. He needs to have a long talk with you, if you're really serious about him you have to be ready to take things slow. It's not a now, just telling you to be ready for the long game.

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disneyprincemuke · 2 months

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just a responsible pet owner * fem!driver

she comes home after a night of drinking, suddenly concerned about what their pets are eating

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: hi ive had this fic idea in my head FOR WEEKS and i think it's so funny so here we are

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

“be careful!” logan scolds as she pushes the door open, stumbling into the door as she opens it.

she kicks her heels off as she waves logan off who’s trailing behind her, arms held out protectively in case she were to fall into one of their shelves.

“i’m fine,” she mutters, slowly walking and swaying further into their apartment. she has her hands held out on both walls of the entryway to steady herself, desperately ignoring the way the room spins and how she’s stepping on her foot every time she walks.

“i hardly believe that. you drank too much, rocky,” logan sighs, scratching his head.

this could have been easier if she’d just agreed to let him carry her back from his car to their apartment. she wouldn’t have had to struggle stumbling everywhere in her heels, knees giving in every couple of steps.

she shakes her head. “i’m fine– oh! my kids! hello, kids!”

she drops to her knees next to the black cat by his feeding bowl, meowing at her as he puts his two front paws on her thigh. “hi, kid. did you miss me?” she grabs both sides of the cat's face, hunching over and pressing kisses to the top of the cat’s head. “i missed you. what are you doing? are you eating?”

“i think he was eating,” logan mutters. he bends over and puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “we should really get you to bed — take off your makeup and drink lots of water. how does that sound?”

she turns around, eyebrows furrowed at him with a frown. “that sounds stupid.”

he lifts his eyebrows. “oh?”

“yeah,” she hums, wrapping her arms around kidnapper, who willingly gets into her lap. “i want to cuddle with my baby.” she rests her cheek on the top of the black cat’s head, then opens her eyes. “is your food even nice?”

shortly, the corgi starts trudging up to her happily, prompting the young girl to squeak and open her arms up to the pup. stubby reciprocates and cuddles into her lap, tail wagging in happiness at her affection.

“dude,” logan repeats himself in a slightly firmer tone. “you need to drink some water and get to bed. at this rate, you’ll fall asleep on the floor.”

“wait,” she mutters, dropping the animals in her hands. she tilts her entire body and rests her head on the wall. “am i even feeding you well? is your food as yummy as you make it out to be?”

logan lets out a soft cry, his arm darting out immediately to grab her wrist before she could grab a kibble from the cat bowl. “that’s cat food.”

“i know,” she says in a whisper, her other hand coming around to tear his grip off her. “i just want to taste their food and make sure they’re eating well.”

if you had told him 5 hours ago that this would be the outcome of their night out, he wouldn’t have believed you. she’d always prided herself in having control over her body when she was drunk, but it seems that she’s just in another dimension tonight. he assumes it’s the 4 cups of margaritas that she downed in 10 minutes before he dragged them out of the club.

“that’s not for you!”

“stop telling me what not to eat! you’re not noah!” she squeaks, turning around to shove him away. “it’s just cat and dog food — i won’t get sick!”

logan throws his head back. “i can’t risk that! noah will kill me if anything happens to you before the race this weekend!”

she lets out a soft scream when he grabs both of her arms, pulling her away from the pet bowls, throwing her head back and resting it on his shoulder. “let me be the pet food police! if they’re not nice, i have to change the brand we’re getting!”

“mate, if they didn’t think it was nice, they wouldn’t be eating it!” logan fights back, pulling her arms back from darting forward to get a taste of their food. “stop trying to try it!”

“fine!” she drops her arms to her side as logan finally lets go of her. she blinks blankly and pouts her bottom lip out. “can i have a glass of water please?”

he stares at her, slightly hesitant. “you’re not going to do anything stupid?”

she shakes her head and drops it slightly, her hair falling down the sides of her face. “i’m thirsty. please?”

“okay,” logan nods, slowly scrambling to get off the floor. “stay here, okay? don’t go anywhere; i’ll help you get to bed after you drink some water.”

but he should have known better than to leave her unattended at that state. he had left for 20 seconds maximum to hurriedly get her a cup of water. when he came back, she’s lying on her stomach, chin in her hand with her elbow propped up against the ground, chewing away on something.

“hey, what the fuck are you eating?” logan screams, putting the cup down on their dining table and rushing over to where she is on the ground. “mate, you’re worse than stubby when he was a puppy! what are you eating?”

she doesn’t have the same urgency. her feet are in the air and she turns to him with doe eyes. “it’s kinda bland.” she looks at kidnapper, lying down innocently next to her. “how do you eat that, mate? it’s got no taste at all.”

she doesn’t spare logan another glance, just turns away and turns to stubby’s bowl. “what about you, tubs? what does your food taste like?”

“stop eating their food! if you’re that hungry, i’ll make you a sandwich!” logan scolds, climbing on her back to pull her away from the pets’ corner. “that’s not your food. stop eating it!”

“i need to see if their food is good food!” she continues to defend herself, pushing her arm forward in hopes that logan would be the first to give up the fight. “please! i’m a concerned pet owner!” she turns her head. “you don’t care for my kids!”

logan rolls his eyes. “yes, i do! i walk stubby every morning we’re home!”

“if you cared for them more, you’d try their food so that we know what we’re feeding them!”

“that’s not the same thing!”

“yes, it is! leave me alone!”

“rocky! pet food is not human food!”

“i just wanna try it!”

“give it up! you’ve tried kidnapper’s food and that’s enough,” logan sighs, dropping himself on the floor next to her. his hands, however, are still gripping hers and tiredly pulling her away from the bowls. “please stop trying to eat their food. it’s not for you.”

“why not?” she whines, now dropping her head to rest on her arm. “i’m being a responsible pet owner, mate.”

“no, you’re just being stupid.”

“aw, take that back!”

“but you are!”

“you’re always so mean to me!” she squeaks, lifting her head to look at him. “i’m going to bed!”

logan chuckles, “if you can get up and make it to bed by yourself, i’ll let you eat stubby’s kibble.”

she sighs loudly and drops her head again, followed by an even louder whine. “fine. you got me.”

they let the silence overcome them for a moment, his hands still gripping hers tightly. he’s let his guard down too easily once tonight and there is absolutely no way that she will get the best of him again.

“can you take me to my bed now?” she starts softly. “and i’d like that glass of water now.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @clemswrld @a-disturbing-self-reflection @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

#logan sargeant x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 grid x reader #f1 female driver #formula one x reader #fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #vettel reincarnate

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f1byjessie · 3 months

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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part six.

Oscar looks as surprised as you feel— eyes wide, mouth parted slightly, frozen mid-step into the entryway. He’s staring at you, in fact, he’s focused entirely on you, but this moment doesn’t feel as magical as you had envisioned it would be. It doesn’t feel magical at all.

There’s no butterflies in your stomach, no teary reunion hugs, and there’s definitely no movie-worthy kiss.

He looks like a deer in the headlights, caught somewhere between wanting to turn tail and run away or being swallowed up by the floorboards— anything to be anywhere else in the world than right here with you.

And it hurts.

“Y/N,” he finally starts, clearing his throat when his voice cracks awkwardly on your name. He shifts from foot to foot, and clenches and unclenches his hands at his side like he isn’t quite sure what to do with them. “I, uh, didn’t know you would be here.”

You open your mouth to respond— to say the same. You want to explain that you hadn’t known he would be here either, and that had you known you would’ve waited up for him at the house instead of hitting the town with Lando, but before you can get a single word out Oscar is already turning to Lando and fixing him with a glare.

“You said you were at a meeting,” he says, words clipped and under-toned with frustration.

Lando steps further into his entryway and kicks off his shoes, not seeming to care about where they end up. “Technically,” he begins as he does so, peering over his shoulder at Oscar with a cheeky grin, “a dinner can be considered a meeting.”

Oscar’s jaw clenches. “You didn’t tell me it would be with her.”

Your brows furrow and you cross your arms. You feel startlingly sober now, and the shift away from the warm fuzzy buzz leaves you feeling cold and like the world has been brought into hyperfocus.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, bringing Oscar’s attention back to you.

He takes in your stance and the expression on your face, perhaps realizing how his words sounded, and sighs. “I just would’ve appreciated being told I’d be sharing the house with… with you before I got here.”

“So you could avoid me like you have been since the season ended?” It… isn’t what you had been intending to say, but the words rush out of you before you can reign them in and bite them back. You know Oscar isn’t the only party at fault in this situation— you know that you could’ve just as easily reached out— but you feel hurt and angry, and having him stand before you demanding to know things makes it worse.

He huffs and looks away from you, avoiding your gaze. “I would’ve liked to have known I’d be third-wheeling, is all.”

It’s a bitter comment, muttered just loud enough for you to hear. The implications are valid, you know they are, but they’re not true despite what your and Lando’s comment interactions seem like.

You don’t feel so confident in your dress anymore— it feels like just another thing Oscar could comment about as proof of the unprofessionalism of your friendship with Lando. You want to scream at him that it doesn’t matter that you got dressed up to feel pretty, and it certainly doesn’t matter that you had a night on the town with Lando, who has been more of a friend to you in the past month than Oscar has been.

You can feel the tears burning at the back of your eyes, and wonder briefly how possible it would be to get a flight back to the States in the morning so you don’t have to spend the rest of the week stuck being made to feel like you’re just getting in the way of Oscar’s time with his teammate.

As if he can tell you’re on the verge of breaking out into sobs, Lando steps in physically and verbally. He takes a step in front of you, partially blocking you from Oscar’s view. “Mate,” he starts, “cool it. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it was meant to be a surprise. But Y/N isn’t at fault. She didn’t know either.”

Oscar goes to speak again, but before he can you clear your throat and draw their attention to you once more. “I’m gonna go upstairs and get changed. Thank you for tonight again, Lando. It was nice and I really needed it.”

You give Lando a curt nod, one that he mirrors back at you with a sympathetic smile. You feel bad for dragging him into all of this now, especially when he’d gone out of his way to have you both here presumably to get you to figure things out. You hadn’t meant for things to put a strain on their friendship as well. So much of what you’d done had been done so to avoid more complications. You’d tried not to tell Logan, because you hadn’t wanted it to threaten his closeness with Oscar, especially with how rough it had been for him to make friends on the grid. On top of that, you’d been hesitant to agree to Lando’s plan in the first place for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because he and Oscar are teammates, and though they’re rivals out on the track they are also the only allies they have when the race is going. They need to be able to trust one another— not be distracted by petty disagreements.

You avoid looking at Oscar, like he seemed keen on doing to you just a moment ago, and slip past both of them to the stairs. It’s hard to get up them as fast as you want with your heels, but you manage as best you can and are thankful for it when the tears stinging your eyes finally begin sliding down your cheeks as you’re fumbling with the door knob of your room.

A few hours later, you’re curled up in bed on the phone with Logan. You’ve been changed out of your dress for a while, now clad in a T-shirt that you’re pretty sure belonged to Dalton at one point and a pair of comfortable sweats. Your hair is still damp from the shower you took and it’s making you cold, but the warm steam had done wonders in keeping your eyes from puffing up after having a good cry and in getting rid of the tear-stricken remains of your makeup, so you can’t complain.

Mostly you just want to forget about it all, and that’s why you’ve gone to your brother.

“I just feel like an idiot,” you tell him. “All of this is my fault. If I had just never gone along with trying to make him jealous then maybe he wouldn’t be so upset with me.”

Logan makes a sound of disagreement. “That still doesn’t give him the right to talk to you like that.”

“He wasn’t wrong, Logie,” you answer. “As far as he knows, he would be third-wheeling me and Lando because that’s the impression we’ve given with our comments.”

He huffs and you can imagine him shaking his head and rolling his eyes on the other end, looking disgruntled. “Maybe that’s the impression you gave,” he starts again, “but that still doesn’t give him the right to be an asshole about it. I never got pissy with Alex when I was basically a third wheel to him and Lily half the time.”

“Yeah, but Alex isn’t using Lily to try and make you jealous so you’ll admit you have feelings for him.”

“Fair point,” he admits, grumbling. “But I digress. You’re my sister and that means you could kill a man and I would still defend you to anyone who tried to talk bad about you.”

You chuckle, and it’s the first time you’ve laughed since your encounter with Oscar which makes you feel a bit lighter.

“I think I might try to find a flight home tomorrow. I feel like I’ll just be causing more issues if I stay here, and I don’t want to make things difficult between them when they’re still driving together next season. I just don’t—” There’s a knock on your door. You relay it to Logan as you rise from the bed and make your way over to answer.

It’s Oscar.

You murmur a soft apology and then a goodbye to Logan and promise to text him later before you hang up and turn your attention back to the young man shifting around awkwardly in the hallway before you.

“Can I help you?”

He purses his lips and sheepishly meets your eyes, looking somewhat guilty which makes you wonder what, if anything, Lando said to him after you departed. “Lando said the other guest room is out of commission,” he starts, “and that, as friends, it wouldn’t be a big deal if we shared.” He clears his throat, and motions with a thumb over his shoulder back in the direction of the stairs. “I can take the couch if you want, but I just thought I could at least leave my luggage up here.”

The Oscar before you now looks drastically different from the Oscar you’d been presented with just a few hours prior. He’s dressed the same, in a loose hoodie and a pair of joggers, but he doesn’t look quite so desperate to disappear anymore. He looks ashamed. It’s closer to how you know Oscar to be from before everything happened in Bahrain.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” you tell him.

He frowns. “I’m not gonna make you sleep on the couch.”

You raise an eyebrow at him and lean against the door. “I meant we could share, Oscar.” Then, partly teasing and partly wondering if he just genuinely doesn’t want to share a room with you, you frown and add, “Unless you really can’t stand the idea that much—”

“I’m fine with sharing.” He interrupts quickly, clearing his throat. “And… I’m sorry about the things I said earlier. I am happy to see you, I was just shocked is all and traveling made me a bit cranky so I didn’t handle it all that well. It’s not an excuse, though. And for the record, I don’t actually think I’ll be third-wheeling the entire time I’m here.”

The apology makes you pause. You hadn’t actually expected him to say anything because you hadn’t actually thought he was the one in the wrong. Sure, you’d been hurt, but you’d figured it was the least of what you deserved after making things so complicated. The butterflies that had been dormant when you’d first reunited with him suddenly make an appearance, fluttering in your chest.

“It’s fine,” you answer. Ignoring the pinched look he shoots you that says he wants to argue against it. “I know what it looked like,” you add.

You’re both silent for a moment, just looking at one another. His luggage sits by his feet, but he makes no move to grab it or try to enter the room, and you don’t try to open the door any further.

After another few seconds, you take a deep breath and ask— “Are we still friends?”

“Of course!” He exclaims, expression immediately melting into a mixture of confusion and concern. “Why would you think we aren’t?”

It’s obvious to you, but his genuine perplexity makes you wonder if maybe you’ve been overthinking this whole thing. What if he hasn’t been ignoring you at all? What if he just went off the grid for a bit? Drivers do that all the time, so it’s not out of place if he had decided to do so as well. Maybe he was just taking a social media detox? He only posted a few times, so a partial detox then?

You cast your gaze downward, watching your fingers fiddle with the drawstring of your pants.

“You would’ve known I was here in Monaco if you had looked at my Instagram,” you say with a shrug. “But you haven’t done that in a while, so…”

He shifts, and you look up just in time to see him make another face— a wince. “I—”

“I’m not trying to attack you, Oscar.” You interrupt, realizing how your words must’ve come across. And you’re not. It’s not an accusation, just an observation that you would really like an explanation for. “It doesn’t matter. I just feel like I’ve done something to make you upset and I don’t know the first thing about how to apologize or make it up to you because I don’t even know what I did.”

He stares at you for another moment and then heaves a sigh and runs a hand down his face, “You haven’t done anything, I promise, Y/N. I’ve just been in a funk lately, or something.”

You want to prod more— ask if he’s okay, if it’s something serious, or if it’s something you can help with in any way. But you feel like this particular interaction is an olive branch, and you don’t want the already tentative reconciliation to be torn to shreds by pushing too far.

“So we’re good?” You ask instead.

“We’re good.” He confirms with a gentle smile.

“Great,” you exclaim, clapping your hands together for emphasis. You swing the door open wider and then nod to his bags. “Then bring those in and turn the lights out already because I had a crazy night and it’s finally hitting me.”

His laughter behind you as you make your way back to the bed is the nicest sound you’ve ever heard.

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal @chonkybonky @mess-is-my-aesthetic @flippingmyshit @peachiicherries

━━ a/n: a tentative reconciliation! there is still more drama to come, however, so don't worry, this isn't the end just yet!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #logan sargeant #alex albon #lando norris #social media au

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 month

Text

Beyond the 305 || LS2 {4}

Summary: Australia GP - need I say more?

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, implied smut, angst

WC: 2.8k

One || Two || Three || Four

There really was a new appreciation for the effort Logan put in everyday for not just his team but for you too. You never understood how exhausting it must have been for him to balance his training and race preparation, media and sponsor duties, and flying home to you every spare moment. Now that you were travelling with him full time you finally got to see just how much added pressure it had put on him.

The London apartment, no, flat, as they called it here, was spacious enough for two people and one large dog, but it was a quarter of the size of your home in Miami. It took some getting used to, walking the length of the space in a matter of seconds or catching your toe on the furniture to avoid stepping on Sooty’s tail. But you wouldn’t change it for the world when you got to curl your body around Logan’s every night and wake up to his kisses.

“What’s your plans today, sweetheart?”

The sunrise here was watery and pale compared to Miami but it still managed to catch the blonde streaks of hair on Logan’s head. He was already dressed and ready to go for his morning run and you could hear Sooty’s paws on the wooden floor as he paced by the front door with his leash between his teeth.

“Not a lot. At 3 I have to take Sooty to the V.E.T.S,” you spell out knowing the black labrador would start sulking if he heard the word. “He has to have some extra shots now if we want to take him to Shanghai.”

Everything took more preparation when you didn’t have the usual support people around. There were different certificates needed for Sooty and new regulations for each country. It wasn’t like you could just drop him off at Dalton’s for the week. The usual help was across the Atlantic and Lily would probably be happy to have Sooty except she would be able to take him to her uni classes. Your big baby needed companionship or he would whine and howl to get attention.

“I’ll come with you,” he said with a kiss before grabbing his AirPods from where they were charging beside the bed.

“I thought you had your podcast today?”

“It’s a long flight, Alex figured we could record it on the way.”

You smiled at the thought of going to Australia for the first time. You pictured warmth, beaches and sun like you were accustomed to. It was more exciting than the other destinations so far this season. Your smile faltered as you remembered you really needed to finish packing for the evening flight and you tossed the blankets back.

“You can go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he said as he pulled his shoes on. “It’s only 6.30.”

“If I don’t finish packing now I will lie awake stressing about it anyway.”

The suitcases were already on the floor of the closet, his clothes folded neatly inside. One half was William’s team uniforms, the other were his personal clothes. The second suitcase only had a garment bag with a cocktail dress for a night out before the circus began.

“I thought you said you started?” he asked as he grabbed your waist and looked over your shoulder.

“I did start,” you pointed out. “Just didn’t get much past there. Someone distracted me.”

Logan’s hands started to roam your body exactly like they had the last time you tried to pack. “You should have more self control,” he teased.

“I’ve never been good with that around you.”

Logan turned you in his arms and grinned. “And I’m goddamn glad.”

His head started to dip down and his lips were already pursed for the kiss he was more than happy to distract you with, when Sooty started to cry at the front door. A deep groan exhaled as he dropped his forehead to yours, the moment stolen from him.

“I’m coming, Soot,” he said over his shoulder before looking back at your lips. “I’ll see you in an hour, honey.”

Logan stepped away with hesitation in his eyes and your hands fell back to your sides as you sent him a flirty wink. “Run faster.”

His lips kicked up and he returned the wink. “Yes, ma’am.”

—

Logan found you sat on the floor in the closet when he returned with a sweat soaked shirt in his hand and a very happy dog at his side. The smell hit you as Sooty bounded into the room and you understood why he was so happy when you almost gagged.

“Sorry, sweets, he rolled in something at the park.”

“Something seriously dead,” you coughed, waving your hand to try to get some fresh air. “Oh my god, Soot, that is rancid!”

Logan caught his collar before he could jump onto your lap and started to guide him out of the room. “Come on, buddy, showertime for both of us.”

The water started running and you heard Logan’s soothing voice through the walls as he calmed Sooty down. Like most dogs, he loved water but hated baths. While they were busy, you finished off folding the last items you were taking and closed the suitcase with a satisfied huff, just in time to hear your name being called.

“We’ve got a runner!”

You dashed out of the room and grabbed an old towel from the linen cupboard before making chase. Logan’s towel hung precariously low on his hips and he struggled not to slip as he ran through the flat behind Sooty. Your laughter filled the room as Logan tried to herd Sooty into the towel you held open, but he was too agile and skidded out of your reach. Logan wasn’t as lucky and failed miserably as he tried to avoid the collision.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” he gasped as he pulled you onto his lap and felt your body for any bumps.

“I’m fine.” Your giggles grew as Sooty bounded back over and shook out his fur. “At least we don’t have to dry him now.”

Logan laughed, holding you tighter as he realised his towel had been lost and he was sitting naked beneath you. He swallowed deeply and your eyes started to follow a rivulet of water as it rolled down his chest.

“Soot, time for a nap,” he ordered, his voice dropping with the heated look in your eyes. Paws padded across the floor before his cuddly toy squeaked under his head and Logan rose to his feet, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you back to bed.

Pillowy kisses warmed your neck as Logan’s hands lifted your shirt up, breaking away only long enough to pull it over your head. Dropping to his knees, he dragged your leggings down and left sweet kisses on your hips before he kissed his way back up your body.

“I love you,” he whispered as his lips finally met yours and he stole your breath with his tenderness.

“I love you too, always.”

He smiled at the promise. “I’ll hold you to that, sweetheart.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him closer until your bodies were flush together and you felt his hard length press to your core. “Or you could just hold me.”

—

The atmosphere was jovial and Logan was relaxed going into race week. Oscar had escorted you and Logan around his hometown with Lily, showing the best spots to eat and the quieter beaches to visit with Sooty. The boys hadn’t been able to resist karting at the track Oscar had learned to race after media day ended. They had tried to get you and Lily to join but you were happy to play referee to their on-track battles.

“Logan looks more relaxed this year,” Lily commented as you both enjoyed a lemonade ice block in the shade of a tree.

“He’s got some experience now but I think that’s going to come with its own pressure. People are still expecting a lot from him, I just hope he has a car that can help him meet those expectations. He was just starting to get the hang of the last one and then the season was over.”

“It sounded like the car was going to be better this year from what Osc said.”

“I'm sure that’s what Alpine told Gasly and Ocon too,” you said with a laugh.

“Serves them right,” Lily giggled. “Alpine, not Pierre.”

“What about Estie Bestie?”

Lily wrinkled her nose at the nickname. “I only met him a couple of times but I definitely wouldn’t call him that.”

It took a lot for Lily to struggle to find something nice to say about someone, she was the sweetest, most soft spoken woman you knew. So it was enough to suggest he was someone you probably wouldn’t go out of your way to meet anytime soon.

“I do wish the guys would include Lo more. I know it hurts him to see pictures of the others getting together. Not that he says anything, he’s too polite,” you said with a sigh. “He was so happy when he was invited to play padel at Testing.”

Your eyes found his blue helmet as it raced around the track, neck and neck with Oscar’s orange one. It was amazing what he could do when given an equal piece of equipment, you would never have been able to tell that they were on opposite ends of the driver standings when watching them call a draw at the finish line.

The boys abandoned their helmets and dropped to the grass beside you and Lily laughing about something Oscar had said on the walk over. Sooty was in heaven as he rolled onto his back and welcomed the fresh hands for belly rubs.

“We should get a dog.”

Lily didn’t look impressed at Oscar’s suggestion and you distracted yourself by offering Logan some of your ice block before it completely melted.

“Just something small, like a Jack Russel,” he continued. “They can’t be that hard to look after, right?”

You barely contained your laugh as you shared an amused look with Logan that he returned, but Lily caught it.

“Just ask them,” she pointed out. “It’s like having a child, isn't it? I’m studying, you’re working and travelling, who will look after it?”

“It is a full time commitment,” you agreed. “And it takes a lot of planning to have everything prepared for travelling. I actually think a child would be easier, they only need a passport to get on a plane.”

Logan nudged your knee with his and winked. “Should we test that theory out?”

“We haven’t even set a date for the wedding so calm your loins, babe,” you said with a pat to his thigh that triggered Oscar to snort.

“Okay, no dog,” he conceded, a relief to Lily’s ears. “You guys wanna get dinner?”

You were about to take up the offer but Logan shook his head and said, “we have somewhere to be.”

“We do?”

“I didn’t ask you to pack a nice dress for it to get left in the hotel. I have something special planned,” he teased. “And no, I’m not telling you, it’s a surprise.”

Try as you might, he didn’t give you a hint of what he had organised.

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart.”

Logan was struck by your beauty and his luck as you stepped out of the room in a dress that accentuated all of your features. His mouth went dry at the thought that he had the pleasure of spending the rest of his life with you.

You stepped closer and ran your palms down the clean lines of his dress shirt that had the top two buttons undone. The baring of skin showed the necklace he wore, a gift from your first anniversary. He had far more expensive pieces of jewellery but he favoured that one the most because it came from you.

“Are you sure we have to go? You’re too handsome for your own good.”

His eyes traced the peek of your tongue and it rolled across your lips suggestively and he felt his pants tighten. He did debate cancelling it all to take you straight back to the bedroom you had left but he finally wrestled his thoughts back under control. “Unfortunately, but I might cancel dessert and have you instead.”

A town car was already waiting at the front of the hotel and as it drove along you watched the city as the sun set and the street lights brightened. Melbourne was beautiful.

“We should set a date for the wedding,” Logan suddenly said as the car pulled up at the city waterfront. “Everything is so uncertain this year but you’re the one constant in my life. If I lose everything else I’ll survive, but I will always need you.”

You laced your fingers with his as you stepped out of the car and thanked the driver. “You’ll always have me, wedding or not.”

He smiled and kissed your ringed hand, leading the way to a yacht moored at the pier. “I know, but I kind of look forward to calling you my wife.”

“Kind of? I hope you’ll have more enthusiasm with your vows.” Your words were light and your smile teasing before you released his hand to board the private boat.

The light mood lasted well into the night and your heart was as full as your stomach when the boat finished its harbour cruise. You wished that mood could last all weekend, but the universe had other plans.

yourusername

yourusername date night with my favourite human @/logansargeant 💙 thank you @/lilyzneimer for babysitting our boy, Sooty, not Oscar.

You knew that look of defeat when he emerged from James’ office, it saturated his soul and leaked out through his pale blue eyes. You could count on your hand the number of times Logan had cried in front of you and your heart ached at the thought of adding another to the tally. Without a word, laced your fingers with his and walked back to the privacy of his driver room. The door shut, the sound as muted as the mood, and you opened your arms to let him fall into your embrace as he confirmed the rumours were true. Logan’s hands clutched the back of your shirt in his fists and he buried his face in your neck. “Alex is racing.”

Your heart broke at the despondent tone and you drew soothing circles across his back. He had known it was a possibility going into the meeting but had hoped his principal wouldn’t put him in a position to give up his seat for the race. Unfortunately his prayers had gone unanswered.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” you murmured as his tears hit your shoulder. “I can’t believe they are even allowed to do this.”

“James didn’t want to ask, but he’s right, Alex has the best chance for points - his history shows that clearly,” Logan rasped through the lump in his throat. He felt humiliated, disappointed and angry all at once, but he was expected to grin and bear it for the team as a united front.

Your brows knitted together and you cradled his face in your hands so you could look him in the eyes. “He gave you the choice?”

Logan shrugged. “I mean, it didn’t feel like it, but I did say yes.”

“Yes means nothing if it’s under duress,” you stated bluntly, a familiar fire warming your stomach at the thought of his kind nature being taken for granted. “Just say the word, baby, and I’ll take him to church.”

Logan shook his head and the gaping wound that had been cleaved into his chest closed a little at your protective nature. He knew you would march right back into James’ office and argue until you were blue in the face, but he feared it would only make things worse for his future prospects in the team. This was his battle to face and he was going to play the long game, even if it took playing the fool for one race.

“I know you would, sweetheart,” he said with a sniffle, wiping his eyes and swallowing down the emotion. It would have made his father proud. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said with a kiss, tasting the salty tears on his lips. “Tell me what you need.”

“Just…stay with me?” Logan took a few steadying breaths and rested his forehead on yours as he screwed his eyes shut. “The cameras, I can’t deal with them alone. I can already feel them zooming in on me, wanting a reaction.”

You draped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in his hair with a reassuring smile. “Let’s disappoint them all then. Shall we?”

He took a deep breath and forced his lips to tip up into a hesitant smile that slowly grew more substantial the longer he looked at you. “Yes, ma’am.”

#logan sargeant #Logan Sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader

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penaltyboxboxbox · 4 months

Note

any genderbend headcanons you would like to share 👀????

YEAH....YEAH I DO....theyre all pretty random and non specific but if you want to hear me ramble about my girl drivers here u go

Charles: she's a non conventional fashion girlie...........she likes to dress quite femininely and and gets a lot of fashion based brand deals so she is often pairing skirts and such with her sportswear and it sometimes looks a bit silly. a lot of her fits are like...is it a fit or is she just really pretty and wearing designer lol. the skirt i drew her in is what I THINK would be her version of the quali pants, it's this knit skirt from gucci 💁‍♂️

Carlos: she is like two steps away from being a high bun lesbian. still keeps her FEM VIBES mostly because of family pressure. but the second she gets put in a dress its all a little . hm. youre a masc arent you.

Pierre: happy to be the paddock baddie like....she embraces it fully. she got a boob job and doesnt care if people know. constantly hints at being bisexual on instagram but will never confirm.

Esteban: the girl who had the most major glow up............and who has also had a bob her whole gd life. literally lives in a lulu jacket and yoga pants like its her uniform. she and pierre had the most toxic codependent girl friendship of all time. she's soooo so so tall and always got mad growing up because none of the boys liked her cause she was taller than them and got teased about it....still tall as fuck

Lance: my tall and beautiful wife...every few months she chops her bangs too short and everyone cries until they grow out again. she hates having hair in her eyes.... hates dresses and heels since she always sits with her legs out...gotta be comfy duh..

Fernando: milflonso............she was an it girl in her youth and then got divorced and came out as a lesbian and became an irresistible masc

George: the preppiest girl you can imagine she will never cut her hair AND she will wear a skort. extreme complex about being a tall girl.

Lewis: ultimate fashionista like she gets it....changes her hair a lot more than boy lewis....extremely in denial lesbian who dates the gayest men imaginable

Yuki: shes a hey mamas lesbian. she flirts so hard with pierre from like eye level with her huge boobs. kind of a fuckboy she swears she'll treat you rightttt come on babyyyy

Daniel: used to be such a hotgirl such a coolgirl like in her younger days she had long long hair and dressed sexy and was all about pushing this like....im a hot girl but im also so cool and just like the boys 😜 (she was overcompensating for something) but after she leaves redbull she like cuts off all her hair and slowly starts mascing the fuck out as she gets older.....now shes just straight up soft butch and everyone knows she kisses girls

Max: grew up forced to have the worst bowlcut in the world and never got to be very girly or anything so when she grew up she finally let her hair grow long and never cuts it. has barely any personal style and still cannot walk in heels tho.

Checo: arguably the one who cleans up the best like shes the one with the makeover montage everyone is so used to seeing her in red bull gear and a ponytail every damn day the second she puts on an outfit everyones like HELLO?????

Valtteri: used to be permanently in the low pony tail and attempting to dress acceptably business casual woman enough for things but after she left merc just embraced being a butch. has the same mullet as guy val. hallelujah

Guanyu: suuuuuch a fashion girl and absolutely rules instagram and weibo..........always doing photoshoots and stuff. experiments with cute hairstyles a lot, but always keeps her bangs ☝️

Alex: used to be super plain like wore big hoodies and just left her hair long and straight and hanging there until one day she got the chop+undercut going on.......now shes well aware shes everyones ideal boyfriend if he were a girlfriend.

Logan: my florida girl......my natural blonde with her little ponytail.....when she was growing up her parents definitely put her shirts like this

Lando: she is a racing driver as much as she is an influencer.............people discourse about if shes fanservicing like every 2 seconds. girl gamer and proud.

Oscar: she lives in gym clothes. nike pros or leggings every day with the most boring shirt. never does her hair or wears makeup

KMag: best mom everrrrrrr 🫶

Nico: she talks openly about how men are very intimidated by her. she is indeed kind of scary.

#ask #genderbend

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ghouljams · 3 months

Note

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFJavaPk/

Look how cute and do you think the boys have a favourite dog breed?

Awwww puppy <3333

Favorite dog breeds for the boys... they'd all be working dog lovers I think.

Ghost: Any collie, strikes me as a cattle dog lover. They're smart, easy to train, and follow their owners like shadows. Also I think he'd love how fluffy and excited they are. He'd carry them around while they wiggle and yip at everyone, unphased and perfectly content.

Price: Belgian Malinois. A good military dog. Resilient and aggressive, very smart, but temperamental. I think Price would take a lot of pride in training the perfect dog, and I mean perfect. The dog is always on alert, and always looking to Price for its next command. Heels right to his side and stays there.

Soap: Staffordshire terrier... He'd get one hit of that big doofy doggy grin and be gone for. Stubborn dogs, very hard to train, but worth it. These dogs can take a lot of poking and prodding, and don't startle easily. Quick, agile, and not willing to leave a man behind. I can see this dog sitting next to Soap, watching the door while he fusses with a bomb.

Gaz: Labs. Just any of them. Loves their big square heads and how easily trained they are. Great big cuddle bugs and a little stupid. I can imagine Gaz crouched down and talking to his dog, holding their head in his hands while they look up at him with the biggest wettest eyes you've ever seen and a little tail wag. This is because I cannot imagine Gaz would be willing to take his dog into the field.

Keegan/Logan/Hesh: German Shepherd. Why mess with perfection? Riley is the best dog in the world and they stand by that. Look at his satellite ears! I imagine these boys frequently smush Riley's face and coo at him. Dog people, the whole Ghost team.

König: Another German Shepherd lover. Good military dog, easy to train, follows directions well, sleeps on the bed on top of König. He's not really a pet guy, but he thinks his dog is pretty ok(if anything happened to it he would kill everyone involved and then himself)

#ghoul speaks #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #captain john price #König #cod headcanons

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months

Text

Crimson Fangs Sing Me Lullabies

PAIRING: David 'Hesh' Walker x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Ten years is a long time to be alone.

WORD COUNT: 18.7k

WARNINGS: Angst, gore, canon typical violence, stitches & needles, death, fluff, puppy love type stuff, mutual pining, Hesh being adorable, Ghosts timeline

A/N: Back to my roots with 30+ page works.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

He vividly remembered the moment Riley had alerted him on that rainy Tuesday afternoon. It was when the sky was pelting against his soaked beanie and the abandoned houses of South California were utterly silent—as still as the heart in his breast. The ground under his feet was soft, grass giving way to slopping mud that caked up to his ankles in thick mounds of flooded earth.

Hesh had only been out for a swift survey of the area, taking Riley for backup as Logan stayed at camp to pack and hide any trace of two individuals from inside Fort Santa Monica snooping around. Seeing as Federation Soldiers frequented the area, any piece of them that was left in No Man’s Land was subject to identification. Nothing from a broken branch or a boot track could be out of order; certainly not when the two brothers were here to scout possible weak points in enemy territory. Try and find ways to slip in a fire team—give ‘em all a good scare and wipe another point off the map.

But Riley was along because not only was he Hesh’s responsibility, but the German Shepherd’s instincts were far superior than a soldier’s ever could be. For only 14 months, the dog was making quite the name for himself around the Fort.

A chilled wind whips down the street, the overgrown road filled with rusting cars and trash which flutters in retaliation of being disturbed all across the asphalt. Rain comes down sideways in great roars. Whatever the dog had honed in on, it was loud enough to be heard over the noise of nature.

“Riley,” Hesh calls, calm and collected, to the animal that was intently staring at a large home; hackles tense and tail pointed high. Blue was the color, hiding peeling white trim behind suffocating ivy. A large portion of the left side was ripped away to show its insides like a dead deer would, which had most likely happened when the earthquakes had been rampant during the first few years after ODIN was fired. Tectonic plates shifting and the like. Green eyes narrow. “Go on boy, search.”

If there were Federation Soldiers this close to camp then it needed to be taken care of—quickly and quietly. No time to get Logan.

Sharp ears perk and the lithe dog shifts its haunches, raised neck fur accented by a low growl. Paws pad over the ground and twin footfalls follow swiftly after, the body of a Honey Badger Assault Rifle pointed down but ready to aim at a moment's notice.

But nothing could have prepared Hesh for what he found that day.

—

You press to the oozing wound with a futile hope that it would stop gushing, breathing so loud it can be heard over the deluge outside this shitty excuse of a shelter. Your arm was splattering blood all over the damaged hardwood of the first house you could stumble into, feet flinching back until your spine hits a dresser in the upstairs bedroom.

Dust lives on every surface; flies through the air as you string curses under your breath with stuttering sobs. You’d hoped that there was a medical kit stashed away here somewhere—something to scavenge that could fix the knife slice that was making you dizzy.

T…there was just too much blood.

But after the loud slamming of cupboards and the destruction of more than a few rusty door hinges, it hit you like a bullet to the chest as your clothes stuck to you like a second skin. Everything had been picked over.

No medicine in the bathrooms, no rags in the kitchen, and no hope of bottled water to clean the wound out. Nothing.

“No, no, no.” You force the black dots away from your eyes, vision blurry with tears as you press harder to the gash. It squelches and more scarlet hits the floor. “It can’t end like this. Not like this.”

All that you had were the clothes on your back and the sparse materials in your backpack that amounted to an empty water skin, a blanket, and the pages of an old book.

Blood pooled on the ground, and you realized far later that the only reason you had heard the noise downstairs was because of the steadying way you had bitten your lip; a sob cut short. Your body stilled like you were caught in a bear trap.

It had been a soft whistle, barely heard over the sheets of rain hitting the broken roof. Water lightly taps your head in an uneven pattern as it leaks through the frame like an ant tunnel. Blinking as a few more tears are forced down your cheeks, you slowly turn to the door that hangs off one hinge.

Small brown eyes are already locked onto you.

Its pupils are so tiny you wondered if the German Shepherd was half snake—they seemed almost slitted as you gaped at its presence. The army green vest that was wrapped around its frame only served to make you more afraid.

Dogs were not your friends. Not in this day and age. Certainly not the ones that belonged to the soldiers that had cut your arm open not an hour earlier in the woods. That’s what they did, then? They sicked a dog on you?

You swallow down a gulp and stand paralyzed as the beast’s lips curled back; its tail puffing up and wagging with aggression. Your breast filled with the constant drumming of a panicking heart.

“G—” voice small, weak, you try to appease the thing with a forced smile as your brows bunch in. This demon doesn’t even blink. “Good doggy.”

You stumble backward only a single shaky step, and then it lunges.

The dog runs at you with a gnashing of teeth and a shredding snarl on its lapping tongue. Sharp barks meet your ear-piercing scream as they echo off the termite-eaten walls. Rushing back, you feel saliva splatter against your face; a sharp snapping flash just inches from your nose. Your back slams into the far wall with a resounding crash.

“Riley!” A masculine voice yells out, followed by feet rushing up the creaking stairs, but you don’t even hear it before fuzzy neck fur is gripped in your hands. Paws dig into your stomach. Worse, fangs graze your neck as ears stay stapled to an angular head; bobbing back and forth with intent to rip your flesh out.

You could smell its damn breath.

Straining, every bit of adrenaline-laced strength builds as a split-second to act takes form. You plant your shaking legs and shove with your shoulders—racing away before the loud thump of the Shepherd’s form hitting the floor is registered. Its vibrating growl of hatred echoes off your brain along with its skidding claws. You stagger quickly into the bathroom and slam the thin wood with a loud yell of fear, finding the rusted lock before flicking it with a floundering grip.

The barrier shakes not a second later with the force of a vehicle as you balk back from it with a horrible fear in your breast.

What would it feel like to be mauled to death? You swallow through a closed throat, seeing the door almost cave with the force behind thrown at it; eyes wide and snapping to the tiny box you’d caged yourself into. Oh, fuck me.

“Riley!” Again that voice, closer. There’s a pause in the attack, but the deep barking continues. Eyes flinching, you shake wildly and notice the under-sink cupboard not a moment later with a prey-like haze over your thoughts. “Easy, boy, easy!”

Stumbling, you whip open the small enclosed area and do what you can to shove yourself into it—legs pressed tight to your chest and grunts falling from your lips as you try and maneuver past pipes. Your arm feels like there are a million knives stabbing one after the other, but you don’t for one second dare to stop what you’re doing. Letting the tiny door shut with a bounce of wood, you get totally swallowed by darkness.

You realize quickly that the barking has entirely stopped.

“Shit,” hand going to capture your mouth, your fingers press tightly to hide even the sounds of your ragged breathing, dealing with both the hunched-over nature of your spine and the knowledge of someone outside the door.

Someone who was probably going to kill you.

Silence lingers, but before long there’s a commotion of a hand that begins to jimmy the door knob. Your ears twitch, blood draining little by little from your head.

Don’t open the door. Please, don’t open the door.

The door is shoved open with a shoulder, a brief grunt echoing off the air as the thing slams to the wall. Soon after, the clatter tells you that it falls off of its rusty hinges along with the muffled curse of annoyance.

Measured footsteps make you stare, wide-eyed, at the tiny crack in the side of the wood ahead of you, light from outside dim but enough for you to notice shadows as they slink past. A sigh.

“Clear.” Weight shifts, and you hear a defining click of a safety. You press on your mouth harder. “What was all the ruckus about, boy? Another raccoon give you the slip?”

Claws pad over broken tile and you hear a nose twitching as distinctly as you can hear your own pulse in your ears. This man that was talking….he didn’t sound like the normal soldiers you’d encountered. There wasn’t an accent to his American English, in fact, he sounded native to the region. Deep of voice and lax in phonics.

But you had more pressing matters than a man’s speech pattern. A bark rips through the bathroom, and you hear a soft chuckle as your body spasms.

“It’s not going to be in the cupboard. C’mon, Bud, we need to get back to Logan. Time’s ticking.” More snarling barks, getting higher in octave. The door rattles as you choke back screams as dog feet scratch with aggression, making the barrier bounce with every punch. “Hey, Riley! Enough!”

A bulky shadow snatches a limb out, grabbing the handle on the back of the dog’s vest, but it’s a bit too late for that. White fangs capture the jutting edge of the frame and rip it off its holding with a raging of metal and splintered wood. You yell between your fingers and try to force yourself away—to try and disappear into a shattered bit of drywall that groaned as you put weight on it.

Feet kicking out, the dripping wound on your arm makes you wrench the other hand to grip at it, a vain attempt to protect your weak area at the moment. It burns like you’ve just flayed the skin from your bone, peeling the flesh like a person would do to a raw steak.

And then the dog is reeled back with a sharp yell, “Riley, stand down!”

At once all barking and drool-dripping snarls come to a halt. Panting, you look out to the half-body of the man and into the dead eyes of Riley—a beast that glares at you despite not being able to as his front legs are held off the ground by his vest similar to a kangaroo. It is like staring into the color of dead earth and waiting for it to swallow you whole.

You wonder if you can die with a still pounding pulse, or if your soul can dip into the very confines of your intestines until you bleed it out. With black dots at the sides of your vision, as Riley is lowered to the ground and left to stand still, you decide that, yes, that could very well happen.

There’s a large exhalation of air from the top, not-visible, image of the man and although you don’t want to look away from the small-eyed dog, eyes drift slowly to stare.

Large toned thighs covered in green and brown camo tucked into muddy boots; straps and holsters that drip water with the subtle shifting of hips. Yet it’s almost immediately that those legs bend as a broad chest comes into view followed by a pale, square face.

You blink quickly, dispelling tears from your lashes mixing with rainwater as it flows down from your forehead when green eyes meet yours—wide and strangely…curious? Brunette hair is trapped by a beanie, and the beginning of stubble spread out down his cheeks, jaw, and chin. Gray sweatshirt, combat vest, patches…your eyes struggle to take it all in but ultimately the large rifle sitting against his chest paints a clear enough picture, even if this man was completely different from the other soldiers you’d encountered out here.

Shaking, you curl in tighter and hunch your shoulders, hiding away your arm.

Hesh doesn’t know what to think.

He looks you over with a blatant expression of shock, Riley still on high alert beside him as one of his knees connects with the cracked floor. Lips slightly parting, the man’s head slightly pulls back, trying to understand what the hell he’s looking at.

A… civilian? This far out in No Man’s Land? How was that even possible—Federation control was practically assured in this area and they shot on sight. Clearing his throat, Hesh sees your water-wet body jerk back, impulsive fear stuck over your head. He quickly raises his hands, dropping his rifle to let it hang from its strap with a clenching jaw as Riley huffs.

“It’s alright, Ma’am.” He coughs awkwardly, watching you incredibly closely. Still not sure how to handle this. “Erm…” A glance is sent to the far wall, “My name is Lieutenant David Walker with the United States Special Forces, you’re going to have to tell me what you’re doing out here. It’s not safe.”

Firm, yet you notice the words are also subdued as the tension in the air somewhat lessons—like a mother scolding a child that she doesn’t want to start bawling. Your eyes waft away from him back to Riley, though the knowledge that the man was in the Special Forces was startling. You had thought everyone else was dead, most of all the remnants of the military.

When did this happen?

Riley still stands as still as anything, watching with his lips curling every so often. Hesh notices your terrified gaze and commands the dog with an easy comment, “Hey, Riley, away Bud.”

The beast pads off with one last long stare, back into the bedroom where you hear the thud of a fuzzy backside hitting the floor and a canid grunt. Immediately a great sigh exits your mouth, crumpled lungs wheezing. The man’s Adam’s Apple bobs as he lowers his arms, lips peeling into a languid frown when his head tilts.

“Sorry about him,” Hesh says, and your shy gaze stops on his neck. Green eyes narrow on you. “Riley’s trained to flush out Feds—not that good at rolling out the welcome committee. ‘Specially out here. He means well.”

Your lips stay shut, shifting the bloody mess of your arm closer to you. If he was going to kill you, you think, he would have done it already.

This Lieutenant David Walker wasn’t wearing the dark coloring of the other soldiers in the forest or the towns—wasn’t wearing the patch of twelve yellow stars set into the black void of a rhombus outlined with red.

He wasn’t part of the group hunting you down.

Hesh sighs deeply, sparing more glances around the broken-down house and the beautiful woman hiding away in the bathroom cabinet. Even with all of his burning questions, it wasn’t safe to be here. Logan was expecting him back.

Itching at the back of his neck, the large man mutters, “Well, I guess you’re just going to have to come with us then.” Hesh wasn’t about to leave you here alone.

Civilians were meant to be behind the Wall, and however you managed to end up outside, he needed to get you back not only for his own consciousness but because you looked like you needed a good meal and a warm bed.

How long has this girl been out here? He asks himself internally.

A gloved hand slowly extends out to you and you level on it with a stiff twitch of your feet, eyes glinting.

“Got yourself pretty much folded in half in there, Ma’am.” Hesh chuckles, trying to put you at ease as you just watch like a deer in headlights. “Can’t be too comfortable, huh? How about I bring you back to camp and I can sift ‘round in my packs—see if I can’t find something for you to eat, yeah?”

It was like coaxing a wild animal from a cage. A chained fox ready to bite its own leg off for the simple release of freedom that it would bring soon after. Hesh couldn’t blame you, Riley usually had that effect on people.

The dog wasn’t trained to be a pet, after all.

At the prospect of food, your ears perked. If this person had food, they had to have bandages as well—medical supplies. You glance quickly down at your arm, seeing how the blood had drenched your abdomen from where it flooded out into the lines of textile and thin your lips. It didn’t look good; if it was left untreated…

Green eyes flutter to stare at where you had briefly peeked at.

“Shit,” Hesh starts, sucking down a breath. His fingers curl from where they still wait for your hand in his. Looking at you as your heart skips a beat from the concerned comment and the unwavering way he stares. “Riley didn’t get you, did he? Let me take a look.”

David moves closer, head partially going under the counter to carefully touch you on the shoulder, shifting your arm from the top. If it was a simpler time, you would have laughed at the sight of such a built and tall man trying to stick his upper half into such a confined place.

His fingers dig into your flesh and with a hesitant line on your forehead, you slightly present your cut as he sends you a tiny smile in reassurance.

He…doesn’t look malicious. Maybe I can…

You blink away black dots and shiver as fingers close around your wrist. Holding back a gasp, Hesh’s eyes widened at the gushing slice; immediately clocking it as a wound from a large and serrated knife.

Federation? Many of the others from the recon units come back with similar wounds courtesy of the certain blades that the Feds used.

Digits go to dig around in his medical pouch as your eyes flutter, seeing the heavy frown on David’s face and the lines on his forehead. Ears twitching at the sound of shifting paws, your body quivers. Green quickly glances up as your hand clenches; making more blood fall out to the wood.

“He won’t do anything,” Hesh assures you, “not without my order. You just need to focus on me, alright? I’m going to wrap this up to help stop the bleeding.” A roll of bandages escapes his pack, and he gets to work tying off a tourniquet above your elbow. “Can you tell me your name, Doll?”

Your nerves are alight from the rough scape of his gloves along your skin, but you whisper out your title with a stuttering voice. More hushed than a breeze on a humid summer’s day. Speaking after all that screaming hurt your vocal cords. It confuses you that you aren't more afraid of this man—the hard yet sparking eyes.

Hesh sends a quick glance and smiles.

“Well, we’ll have you all fixed up soon. Promise.” He decided fairly promptly that it would be counter-intuitive to ask you so many questions in No Man’s Land; he’d wait for all of them to be back in the Fort and his father’s opinion.

Elias Walker was sure to be intrigued by this.

Flinching when David carefully pours water on the wound to clean it out, more wrappings come after to press the torn edges of the injury close together, white rapidly becoming red. But the bleeding would stop soon, as the tight bite of the tourniquet cuts off the flow and leaves your arm completely numb.

Hesh licks his lips and releases your hand, moving back to rest on the ends of his feet to let his limbs hang off his knees. Looking you over one last time, the man wonders if you were a scavenger. A drifter, maybe? There was a score around the Wall, but they all got caught eventually.

But none of them were this far out, this afraid.

“C’mon,” David stands, one hand resting atop the counter and the other still extended into the cabinet for you. “We need to get going so we can make it back before dark. Or until the storm gets worse. I’d hate to catch a cold.”

You stare and push down your fear, injured hand held to you as the other slowly drifts forward. Hesitating over his expectant palm you bite your lip before letting his grip encompass yours. Firmly, fingers tighten over your skin and you shiver at the prospect of touch.

As gently as he’s able, Hesh helps you out from your hidey-hole, stabilizing you with a hand to the small of your back as you pop to full height.

“Easy,” he murmurs, watching you stumble as he holds tight. The dog stands from the bedroom, ears erect, but the Lieutenant doesn’t even look. “Riley, stay.”

Your eyes purposefully never stray to the canine.

The grip over yours squeezes before it’s gone, and a part of you blinks at the sudden sweep of coldness that returns to you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, sliding your vision to the still form at your side as the house creaks and groans; rain followed by a deep rumble of far-off thunder. Hesh’s lips pull up, huffing out a single, dismissive, chuckle yet his heart jumps with pride.

“Don’t worry about it.” The man’s limbs rest on his weapon, loose. “Least I could do for lettin’ Riley scare you like that.” A beanie tilts as his rugged head nods to the doorway. “Follow me, Ma’am.”

You stare at the back of his head as he slips past you, walking past the broken door. Blinking after, you stuff your hands into your pockets and quickly catch up with a few strides; feeling light-headed from the leaving adrenaline in your blood. Not fully convinced you trusted him, David had the one beneficial factor of being in the American military that made you go along.

Why would someone impersonate them? It didn’t make sense, and thus, he had to be telling the truth.

But you really didn’t like being near Riley.

Tail still stiff, the dog stays on David’s right while you keep to the left, if not slightly behind. Brown eyes glare and rage, and you hunch your shoulders in mute retaliation, fixing the position of your backpack after it was smashed between the wall and your body.

“So,” Hesh tries to break the tension, carefully going back down the stairs and looking back. You perk. “How long have you been out here, if you don’t mind me asking? Don’t get many civvies in No Man’s Land.”

His boots thump while your shoes lightly press, descending back to flat ground.

“I…” You lick your lips, “I don’t know.” Brows peeling back, Riley exits the house first, Hesh pausing for a millisecond before humming leisurely and going after—not without a narrowed look of confusion directed at you first.

“Alright.” He coincides. Maybe you were just in shock. “No worries.”

No Man’s Land? Silently, you dig into the back of David’s head when he leaves the shelter of the house, getting soaked by rain as nitrogen fills your nostrils. What’s that?

Feet traveling out through rubble, you side-step wood and drywall, breathing in the outside air as you soon feel the water wet down your head and clothes once more, shivering at the constant slap to your scalp and cheeks.

Shuffling after David, you see him call above the storm with one hand to his chest, speaking into a radio.

“Logan, I’m coming to you! I’ve got an injured Civvy with me—knife wound. It’ll need stitches.” There’s a murmur from the other end, but you hear none of it above the rain; Riley peels out ahead, taking point with a constant pattern that leaves the dog coming back after a moment or two into a heel position. “Affirm. Hold down the camp until I get back. We’ll need to move ASAP.”

Digging into the collar of your shirt, you stay in Hesh’s footprints, shoes getting even more mud-cased all along the old material as you all turn into the treeline, forsaking the dead neighborhood to go back to its rotting.

You only send one glance behind before it’s swallowed by bushes and downed logs.

The cover of the branches offers some reprieve from the downpour, but only to a point where you still were left floundering over the rugged terrain while David walked it like a pro.

Hesh was constantly looking over his shoulder at you—slowing his pace when you got too far behind him and Riley. At your almost frigid shivers, his lungs built in a low sigh.

“Here,” he says, firmly, and plucks the beanie off his head to wring it out. Water pools to the soggy ground as your legs slow, constantly blinking eyes looking up from the rocks you were currently intent on not tripping over. “Sorry, it’s not much. Logan’s got a spare blanket he can lend you later.”

Pausing, your fingers inside of your pockets twitch at the outstretched article, lashes fluttering as a raindrop bounces off your nose. Cleaning your throat when Hesh prompts you with a small, “Go on,” and a motion of his hand, you take the offering slowly.

Slipping it on, you pull the thing far over your ears, hating how your hair feels under it but not willing to take it off once the pounding on your skull ceases.

“Better?” David asks, tilting his head as his short brunette locks get weighed down to his forehead.

You nod wordlessly, attempting a small flinching smile in gratitude. Hesh delays his turning feet for a moment, seeing that with a barely-there flush to his pale cheeks. Clearing his throat once more, the Lieutenant clicks his tongue for Riley to continue, and offers you a hand over the rocks.

Up and over, he helps you all along the way, suddenly not caring about how long it might take to get back to camp.

Walking beside you, you take glances at David, wondering aloud, “Who’s Logan?”

He smiles, green roving over the terrain and now on even higher alert now that there’s someone else with him for the trip back. Riley sniffs along the badly flattened trail, though still takes time to stare back at you with distrust.

“My brother,” Hesh pushes his hair back, expelling water like a rag, “Riley and I went out to scout territory while he stayed behind. Erm,” the brunette chuckles and another wave of thunder rolls overhead. “Don’t think too much about it if he’s a bit quiet when you meet. Logan doesn’t talk much.”

“I won’t mind,” you also chuckle, though yours is more forced; subdued. It was easy to speak to Hesh, even if your arm was pulsing and your heart was rampaging.

The Lieutenant sends you an appreciative side-eye, smiling slightly, “Good. I’d hate for you to think he was being—”

Riley halts with a huff.

Attention shaping forward, David steps in front of you with a quick foot, and your frozen view of the western cluster of trees is blocked by a broad back.

“Riley’s got something.” He speaks low, deathly serious. “Keep behind me.”

You suck down stiff oxygen, body weary as you peek over to stare at the dog and his vest as it shifts when he moves. The large white lettering of ‘Beware of Dog’ on the side catches your optics like a knife in the dark.

Hesh takes slow steps ahead, knowing you’re behind him by the way your breath stutters and brushes the back of his neck. His vision bores into the treeline, peeling back bark like the books of a page, his heart a steady bump in his chest.

Riley continues to alert, paws shimmying and fur caked in mud as his tail begins to go wild.

David levels his rifle to the shadows dancing, clicking off the safety with a thumb before his cheek finds the stock, staring through the scope with deep-set brows. The man waits for the beast to engage first.

With the minutes ticking and the rain drowning everyone, you find every swaying branch and twitching leaf to be as anxiety-inducing as a typhoon; still, Hesh stays unperturbed in front of you. About to open your mouth and utter a confused plea to keep going, Riley suddenly rushes.

Pushing headlong into the treeline growls akin to a demon echoing off the atoms of the air when the puffy tail disappears. There’s a moment of strained silence right after where your legs are itching for you to run, but David stays and so that means you will too. He’s really your only chance for survival at this point.

“C’mon boy,” the brunette mutters, hips shifting weight.

It’s only when pained screams enter the air that the two of you really tense up, a loud, panicked thing that bounces off your eardrums over and over again. You gasp and take a step back, and that’s when two black-armored individuals burst from the bushes, yelling behind them and pivoting to try and shoot an enraged Riley with blood dripping from his maw.

Hesh dispatches them with only four bullets—two for each as their exposed necks explode into crimson. Snapping your gaze away you swallow tersely, blinking as if to dispel the image from your mind. You had seen people die before, in painful and gruesome ways, but that didn’t mean you had ever gotten used to it. Lowering his gun, Hesh tilts his head at the two Federation soldiers, the third taken out by Riley before he drove the others to him.

“Good, boy!” David praises, oblivious to your plight, and the dog trots over with a lolling tongue, eyes bright. His gloved hand pats Riley’s side a few times, ruffling the fur atop his head as paws tippy-tap before shifting to look back at you. He double-takes, gaze widening with a frozen smile.

Green blinks at your nervous expression and your body that had backed up a good five feet with your hands stuffed into your pockets. His petting hand pauses and Riley barks. Hesh watches you flinch at the sound and tenses.

Awkwardly standing up to his full height, his fingers itch at his stubble.

“I…” David pauses, not sure what to say to you. Shaking his head, the man grunts out, “Camp’s this way, Ma’am.” A finger points down the trail and you nod quickly, still not looking anywhere near the bodies or Riley. Or him, for that matter.

“Okay.” Sharing a look with the dog at his side, he thinks his lips and pauses before he takes off down the grass, concern and apprehension stuck in his veins. Not knowing why, he begins to feel a bit strained.

You stay well behind him all the way back to Logan, thinking and worrying.

I don’t know this man, you tell yourself, arms wrapped around your middle and beanie heavy atop your scalp. Even if he’s nice—even if he says he’s in the military, I don’t know what he could do. I have to remember that.

And that damn dog.

You can’t get its eyes off of you—constantly watching and tense as if you’d bolt and he would get the chance to pounce on you. It didn’t trust you and that sentiment was entirely mutual. Pulling your injured arm closer, the image of flashing fangs is playing in your mind as you and David get closer to a dense cropping of stones and deep foliage; now it was worse. Now Riley had congealed blood dripping off his chin, all fur up to his eyes deep red and stained. Rabid looking.

He was one minute away from ripping my throat out back in that house.

You shiver, but not from the cold. If not for the kind way Hesh had wrapped your arm and the promise of further help and food, you’re not entirely sure you wouldn’t try to bolt.

People haven’t exactly been kind to you out here—not for many years.

Your eyes whip away from Riley and stay on David’s boots until the man pushes through one last bush, holding it back for you as you shuffle past with a silent nod of appreciation. The presence of another man immediately makes itself known when you stare into the remnants of a campsite.

Grass trampled to form a semi-circle, a stuffed backpack rests against a large boulder and, in the middle of the area, sits a small pit for a fire. The dig-out ground is now flooded over by the rain, creating a concoction of mud and brown water. A large overhang stemming from two gigantic rocks gives a small reprieve, though there’s little room for more than two people, and if the rain slants the other way it would end up being completely useless.

But the figure standing under it is taking what little cover it offers. Shifting with a similar outfit to David and blinking at you with brown eyes. Quickly, he lowers his gun when Hesh calls out, “Woah, Logan—it’s me!”

Blonde hair lays flat over the brother’s head, and you instantly see the resemblance between the two in the same shape of their jaws; the angle of their twin noses. But Logan did seem to be the younger of the two, though not by more than one or two years.

David saunters forward, hips swaying, and pats you lightly on the shoulder before looking back to send you a soft smile of reassurance. Water flows off his chin.

“Now, let's get that arm looked at.” He walks under the overhang and bumps forearms with Logan, who continues to watch you carefully. Riley trots up and the blonde rubs his head when David bends down to grab his backpack.

You awkwardly shuffle, still out in the rain with a cautious feeling in the back of your chest. If you could peel back your skin, you would see an amalgamation of alarm bells strung up by cords of hesitance. Who was to say these men were any different than the black-clothed ones? Could you know their character based on a simple tourniquet and a soggy beanie?

Brows tight, your shifting feet slosh through a puddle. Did you have a choice?

Hesh calls over the rain, peeling out a large medical bag from his pack—the white cross capturing your vision. “C’mere! We need to get that stitched up.”

Sighing deeply, you walk until the rock stops the sky’s tears, fingers twitching in your pockets and feeling quite tired.

“Logan,” the Lieutenant orders and the blonde takes his eyes from you slowly, his stubbled skin sporting a scar up the right side of his jaw. Riley looks up at him when the pets stop. “Give her your spare blanket, would you?” Green flickers to your arm before they go to your face. “Feelin’ alright about needles, Ma’am? It won’t feel that great, but I promise I know how to stitch a straight line.”

You watch Logan jumble through his own belongings, shivering and hearing the snap of latex gloves from David’s side. They both worked like a well-oiled machine, with gears and pins moving in stupendous arks of shared understanding. If you were being honest, it almost overwhelmed you when a heavy fabric was dropped over your shoulders.

Fingers go to keep the blanket over your form as a small protein bar was held loosely in your face from Logan’s hands. Brown eyes blink when you carefully take the item, whispering out a small, “Thank you, Logan.”

The silent man studies your expression before he nods firmly, backing up and taking Riley with him out into the rain with a whistle to allow you more room. You respond to Hesh as he waves you over with a hand.

“I don’t mind needles,” you admit and David listens, patting the rock beside him on the ground for you to sit on. Doing that, you unwrap your bar and hunch deeper into the blanket. “It’s the blood that bothers me.”

You get a silent side-eye and a gentle hum in understanding.

“I’ll be done before you know it,” Hesh offers a twitch of his lips, going to lightly twist your arm so that the stained bandage can be unwrapped and laid to the side. “Then when you’re back in the Fort I can get you home to your family. I’m sure someone’s pretty worried about you right now, huh?”

Your face scrunches, confusion taking hold as you’re just about to bring the protein bar to your lips. Fort? Family? What was this guy talking about?

Not noticing your look, Hesh, sets off to work, one thumb caressing your numb forearm as he sews your flesh back together. At some point, you turn away, content to bite your lip at the pain and glare into the stone beside you rather than see the crimson slosh down your arm. David wipes at it every so often, seeing the curved needle slowly bring the ragged ends of skin to a neat line.

He does his best to move as fast as he’s able, careful not to dig too deep and cause you more stress.

You eat your bar with a ravaging hunger, done with it almost immediately and licking the remnants off of your fingers. Hesh chuckles deeply, but a part of him is concerned at the sight.

You had said you didn’t know how long you’d been out here—how were you getting food? The wildlife? You didn’t seem the type to go hunting; didn’t even carry a gun unless it was in your backpack. David doubted that, though.

“Hell, the only person I’ve seen devour those things like that is Logan.” He comments, cutting off the last suture with the small scissors from the pack. You turn to watch his face, seeing the concentrated lines above his eyebrows and the way his tongue lightly pushes out of the side of his mouth until he licks his lips. “Don’t know how he does it—they’re more bland than his cooking.”

You huff slightly at that, embarrassment heating your cheeks as the needle stops its up-and-down motion. Hesh finishes up with one last look over, tilting his head to the side.

“You seem pretty close,” whispering, you glance at the figure in the rain, the yellow ball being tossed absentmindedly to Riley before it’s dropped at Logan’s feet as he walks the perimeter.

Hesh smiles, “Definitely. Couldn’t imagine my life without him.” Fresh gauze is spread and taped down, new bandages unfurled. “Feeling alright? You’re doing great.”

Your eyes blink at him, slipping over his handsome features and the way his hand holds you so softly even if he is quite large. The cold didn’t seem to bother him at all. You clear your throat and nod shakily.

“Isn’t the first time I’ve been stitched up.” Muttering out your confession your fingers twitch as David tightly wraps your wound up, securing the end and unwrapping the tourniquet at your elbow when he’s done.

“Really?” The brunette frowns. “Sorry, that must have been tough.”

You flex your hand, closing and opening your grip as his own travels to the marks the ruthless tourniquet had made on your skin. Freezing your eyes lay stuck to his fingers as the tips of them brush the indents, imaginary pricks under the skin forming as blood begins to flow properly again.

Hesh doesn’t know what overcame him to do so, slowly pressing into the flesh with a low grunt stuck in his throat. Maybe it was some ill-placed concern for you—some guilt left over for how Riley had treated you before he had shown up. The fear in your eyes when he had killed those Feds.

But you…he wanted to help you.

Unexplainable actions make your heart thump, blood rushing to your head as your limb shakes at the contact.

Quickly, green orbs pull far open, realization dawning. Clearing his throat, David swiftly moves his hand back to his knee, not meeting your eyes as a red flush makes everything from his nose to his ears pink. Your lips part at the sight in shock, jaw loosening.

“Well,” he says loudly, moving back to stand and taking off the latex, “that’s that. You’re all set to go.”

Without meaning to, a small giggle escapes your mouth as you rest your opposite hand on your arm. If anything that makes Hesh all the more flustered, quickly picking up all of his supplies and zipping up the medical kit with a racing pulse.

Running a hard hand over the back of his neck, you see David call Riley and Logan back as his cheeks go back to their normal color. Your vision narrows on him, trying to understand this individual like how you could understand the thunder that rips the sky or the blanket over your shoulders. You swipe at the last dredges of rainwater on your nose, seeing the two brothers converse in hushed voices. Riley continues to watch you, shaking off inside the overhang and huffing.

It was quite obvious the dog held a grudge for you shoving him to the ground. Warming glee leaving you, you frown at the canine and shift your eyes to the outside world; the downpour is softer on your eyes than feral brown.

You only turn back when your name is brought up.

Hesh stares at you, serious, as Logan goes to swing his pack over his shoulder. “We need to start moving soon. It’s bad enough to be in No Man’s Land but to be this deep in Federation territory is worse. Do you have enough energy to keep going?”

“I…” your lips stutter, taken aback, “Yeah, I should be alright.” If the terrain was anything like it was getting out of that town, I’m not going to make it a mile. Pulling the blanket tighter to you, you ask, “How far away are we?”

Wherever they were going, it sounded like a good idea to tag along as long as they were allowing it.

Hesh shares a stiff glance with Logan.

“Full day of hard hiking, give or take. Terrain’s changed so much it’s a gamble every time.” Your face blanks, throat closing.

“Okay, sure.” You don’t know when you had come to care whether these men left you behind or not, but Hesh’s caring attitude had struck something in your chest like a drum.

Now that you had someone to talk to out here, someone to caress your wounds, it felt vile to stake out on your own again. Running from soldiers with yellow stars and black rhombus patches outlined in red. This pair wasn’t so bad, at least from what you knew as of now.

David’s lips tighten, eyes sliding half-closed to narrow on you. Green meets brown, seemingly telepathically communicating in that way only siblings can.

Hesh nods his head, slapping Logan on the shoulder firmly as he calls Riley to a heel position.

“C’mere, boy, we’re leaving.” The dog lopes over as the brunette stops in front of you with a smirk. A silent Logan huffs a chuckle from his position, shaking his head to himself. You look up in confusion, a slow death seeping into you as a teasing expression makes Hesh’s face shift. His arms cross over his chest.

“How do you feel about piggyback rides, Sweetheart?”

—

You yelp, gripping tighter around David’s neck as the ground nearly gives way, his handle on your hips increasing. His mouth releases a grunt though he quickly rights himself so he doesn’t send the both of you careening over the edge of this rocky hill.

“Easy,” he huffs, looking behind at you as the slowing rain falls on everyone. A brow raises, puffs of breath escaping Hesh’s mouth as he begins to continue on. “Or you’ll choke me out before we make it back.”

You cringe and loosen your hold, muttering, “Sorry, David.”

“Hesh’ is fine,” he laughs, turning back, “Only person that calls me David is my old man. And don’t worry about it.” Eyes twinkle. “There are worse ways to die than being choked by a pretty girl.”

You heat, sputtering for a minute as the joke registers; glaring at his head below your chin.

“Well then, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I just yanked you off this cliff? Pretty girl and all.”

The deal had been you would keep up with Logan and Hesh as long as you could, from then on the Lieutenant would so graciously allow himself to be the pack mule while Logan and Riley protected the both of you. In all fairness you had done better than expected—David had called you stubborn and practically forced you onto his back when you started dry-heaving on the side of the trail.

Over the walk, you had gotten into a habit of softly arguing with the man, Logan sending back amused glances every once and a while. It felt good to speak to people again.

“Hm,” Hesh huffs through his nose, sidestepping a boulder and carefully finding footholds in the ascending ground. Riley barks from the top of the hill as if telling him to hurry up. “Y’know I don’t have an answer for that right now. Would you be throttling me on the way down or no?”

“Depends,” you deadpan, not looking at the edge that the man walks confidently, shivering but still keeping Logan’s blanket over your shoulders.

Hesh blinks water from his eyes, glancing over his shoulder. “On what?”

“On if I can get to you before Riley chomps my hands off.” A loud bark of laughter springs from his chest, unexpected but pure. It echoes off the cliffs and the trees, and you have to laugh slightly with him. You feel his hold squeeze your thighs, hiking you a bit farther up as he makes it to the top, Logan looks at him with a slightly parted mouth before his gaze slides to you.

You swore there was a spark of thankfulness in his expression, but he’s turning and whistling for Riley a second later.

“Shit, that’s a fair point.” Hesh chuckles, and you notice his shiver when the cold wind whips past.

Cheeks burning, you move your hands making the man under you make a noise of confusion. Ignoring it, you peel at the blanket around you and place it above the both of your heads, blocking out the water even if the fabric was already soaking. You rest your elbows on his shoulders and sigh, looking at your bandaged arm for any blood.

Dark, yes, but all the red fluid was dried. It was seemingly all good.

Hesh feels his lips pull in a heart-felt smile, stubbled cheeks gaining a sheen as you hide his head from the rain. He didn’t need you to, of course, but the action came from a place of genuine care. It felt…nice.

“That’s kind of you, Ma’am. Thanks.” Green peaks slightly up, and you turn away so you don’t meet his eye, cheeks burning.

“Least I could do.” Your mouth mutters. “Thanks for not letting Riley eat me alive…and the stitches.”

Hesh grunts softly, still smiling.

“Well, I’m not one to let my dog rip apart civilians. Least of all ones that need help.” He keeps a close gaze on Logan and the canine, watching the treeline and the rustling bushes from the blanket edge. “It’s a good thing I found you when I did—wound like that’s a nasty thing to treat half passed out.” He dares to push, “How’d you get it if you don’t mind tellin’ me?”

You noticed how he would try to ask unassuming questions in hopes you would be able to explain yourself but in reality, you were just as confused. The military was still functioning? You had no idea, stuck in the same areas for…a long, long, time.

It made you afraid. How…how many years had passed from when the sky had erupted with fire, beams of pure light slamming into the earth. You try not to dwell on it.

Holding the blanket edge tighter, you wiggle your chilly nose to push back sniffles and explain to the best of your ability. Hesh had called those men Federation Soldiers, and you had heard of that title before the world had fallen apart like a toy castle under the fist of a child.

Federation…You speak slowly, thoughtful of your words.

“I was running,” David slows a bit, putting distance between the others as he watches Riley sniff an old rusted bucket stuck in the middle of a Black Sage bush. His lips thinned, and a tense feeling in his gut was forming. “I don’t know for how long or where I was going, but I knew that if I didn’t run, I would die.” Your arm was throbbing, but you only look at it and continue. “I bumped right into one of those men when I was trying to see through the rain.”

Voice dipping slightly, you hold back a squeak of surprise when David’s thumbs start moving back and forth slowly over your thigh. Blinking down at the top of his head, you pause and speak through a hitch of breath—the man mistaking it for upset and feeling his eyes crease.

“...He swiped at me with a knife and I raised my hand up to block it. I,” you stare over at Riley as he runs next to Logan, that brown and black coat soaking wet. “I thought they had sent a dog after me when I saw yours in the house.”

Hesh tilts his chin to the ground, lungs breathing down a sigh through his nose. Walking around the form of an abandoned and rotting side table, the Lieutenant tries not to imagine how scared you must have been in that instant.

He moves his head and you look into the expression of a soldier who takes his job very seriously. At the intensity that lives behind his eyes—at close range—you see flecks of bark and mossy dirt; a delicate and almost pretty curve of lashes. You’re entranced by a rugged beauty as you sigh.

“That’s never going to happen again.” Skin heating, you see his gaze search your face, hold firm. “I said I would get you home,” he declares, letting a small smirk peel his lips. “And I’m not one to go back on my word, you hear?”

Your chest tightens. You don’t have the heart to tell him whatever place he’s bringing you isn’t your home, but you feel light at the statement anyways. The insinuation was enough.

“Okay,” you mutter, and you both stare a moment longer.

Nodding subtly, David studies the dirt and grime on your cheeks, the weather on the epidermis in what could have been sun exposure or simple blemishes. Your expression turns shy at the blatant staring, and you move your head back just as Hesh chuckles deeply, blood pumping. Walking faster, the Lieutenant rejoins the other two with an alert eye and a soft smile as a thankful feeling grows for the blanket over his head and the woman holding away the downpour.

He decided then and there that nothing bad would ever happen to you as long as he was around.

It’s an incredibly long walk, but when you see the Wall for the first time, you nearly fall right off of Hesh’s back. The rain had stopped by now, though the air was still moist and the sun low—giving the world a shivering temperature.

But the Wall.

Hesh had called it Liberty Wall in a passing comment as he had let you slide from his hold, your feet stumbling not from fatigue but from sheer amazement. It was…gigantic. Falling to pieces, sure, but nonetheless a great achievement.

“There she is,” David sighed, stretching out his arms and groaning as Logan radios in from where you all stand along the ridge. Riley lies panting at Hesh’s feet. “Good to see ‘er again, huh? Been outside for too long, I’m about ready to eat a whole plate from the mess hall—and that’s really saying something.”

About to chuckle to himself, eyes narrow in confusion at the realization of your blank expression behind him, frozen body with wide-open lids and parted mouth. Hesh’s brows crease.

“Hey...you alright?” Clearing your throat, you notice the twin brown and green gazes on you with a quick swivel of your head.

The brothers share a look.

“Mhm,” you bite your lip, hands descending into your pockets as you shuffle, shoulders rolling under the straps of your backpack.

Hesh crosses his arms as the radio on Logan’s chest statics with a garbled voice, “Affirmative. You’re all clear to proceed, Sergeant. Good to have you both of you boys back so soon—Riley too.”

It was becoming even more clear that you needed to be brought to Fort Santa Monica and to their father. You had met Federation soldiers, were in No Man’s Land for who knows how long, and acted as if you’d never seen possibly the most recognizable landmark that had been made during the last ten years since ODIN.

“Logan,” Hesh turns to his brother but keeps his eyes on you, “radio into dad, yeah? Tell him we’re back and going to be showing up at HQ. Ask for an empty room.”

You stare along the barrier, mind running back to all the events that had happened since the moment the world had changed, wondering. Thinking.

If this had been here the whole time… Faces flash over the back of your eyes like a layered movie before you push them back. The trail that Hesh and Logan had taken to get here was probably only known to the likes of them—no one else, or you would have traveled it ages ago. The dark-clad soldiers were so numerous that you’d never even thought to take the main road up North, nor the woods. They were everywhere all the time.

A hand grips your upper arm and you flinch, focusing back as Hesh’s strong jaw comes into view. He flattens his lips in a still-line smile of comfort.

“Let’s get you inside, Ma’am.” His hand carefully presses down farther on his hat atop your head, pulling it over your ears once more. “Find you some less soggy clothes.”

“What about you?” You ask without really knowing what you mean, finding some strange sense of comfort when David was near to you.

The man chuckles, heart jumping, beginning to guide you down the slope and watching you closely in case you trip. Riley keeps on his right, neck hair still bristled whenever he looks your way.

“What about me?” He asks, cheekily.

“You just carried me more than halfway here,” you shiver and dig deeper into Logan’s blanket, “and you’re just as soaked—I don’t want you to get a cold because of me, Hesh.”

The sentiment was true. David was feeling worn out, and some of the liquid dripping down his face was undoubtedly sweat, but seeing that adorably concerned expression was almost enough to make him forget the aches in his shoulders and thighs. He blushes and turns his gaze ahead, clearing his throat.

“Ah,” the man shakes his head, “don’t worry about that. Could’ve been worse.” He smirks, “could have had to carry Logan.”

You laugh quietly at him as everyone makes their way down into a large, underbridge, area made of concrete; heading quickly to a checkpoint in front of a large pair of black-steel doors built into the Wall.

“I don’t think it would be that bad. Funny to watch, at least.” Staring at the back of the younger brother, Riley suddenly comes up from behind you, seemingly intent on getting there first. His ear brushes your swaying hand and the next thing you know, Hesh is shoving you to his opposite side as savage barks make you yelp.

“Woah, Riley!” David hollers and your heart jerks to a ravaging pace, air trapped in your throat as you’re kept close to a strong chest by an arm around your shoulder. “Holy Hell, stand down!”

Logan by now had turned and was jogging over, grabbing the dog by the vest and peeling him back across the concrete. Panting, you watch with shaking limbs and look down at your fingers.

Nothing more than a large scratch across the top of your left hand, but it was irritated. You sink deeper into Hesh’s side and cover it against your chest. Green eyes jump back and forth from you to the raging canine, Logan’s grim-set face glaring down at the furry beast, putting Riley into a sit with a gloved hand to his behind. David smushes you closer and after a minute of more barking, the dog falls silent, though still glares at you violently.

You struggle to take down air, face scrunched like crumpled paper. This dog…

Hesh glares and clenches his jaw at Riley, for the first time in his life entirely frustrated with the animal.

Guiding you forward quickly, the brunette doesn’t move his grip, scowling over his shoulder before bee-lining to the entrance. He speaks in clipped sentences to the guards who all know him and his brother well.

“Take us to HQ.” You’re ushered into the back of an armored truck, Hesh taking your right side and telling Logan to stay with Riley in the next vehicle of the convoy.

Blinking quickly, you swallow down saliva and hold your hand tighter, shivering and staring at the floor.

“Let me see,” muttering, Hesh reaches out. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault…Christ, I swear he’s never like this.”

You shakily put your hand in his, the large mark aggressive looking but barely bleeding. But you remember the pressure of Riley’s fangs vividly as they slid past your flesh like soap.

“Ah, shit,” the man huffs, “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” His thumb runs over the mark lightly, gritting his teeth and sending you a stiff glance. Your vision tilts as you look away, but the slide of his hold was addictive; the small twitches of his fingers and the warmth they bring.

“Y’know,” you attempt a small, wobbly, chuff, “he looks a lot cuddlier than he is.”

Still tense and feeling guilty, Hesh pushes forward a dull twitch of his lips; blaming himself. Maybe the dog needed more socialization if this was how he was going to act around injured civilians when they barely brush against him.

“Yeah, I suppose.” Still holding your hand, he squeezes before stuttering nerves release you—hesitation to let you go bunching his knuckles for a second more. He liked the feeling of you in his hold, liked how your tension slowly leaked away when his attention was on you. “Doesn’t hurt, does it?”

You feel the slight pulse in your hand, sighing before shaking your head.

“No, not really.”

“‘Not really’ isn’t givin’ me the reassurance I’m lookin’ for, Ma’am.” Shuffling out of the blanket, you place the water-heavy fabric in the seat beside you as the car flies over the ground, speeding you into safety.

“I think it would be worse if I lied.” Itching at his chin, Hesh huffs and nods, his large body so close to yours that his shoulder bumped yours with every movement of the vehicle.

Your heart is steadily calming, and you rub at your face. The feeling wasn’t bad, and you almost find yourself leaning into him and putting your head in the slot of his neck.

Stop that.

“Guess so, but it would make me feel less like an ass.” Smiling, you raise a brow and view the way his chest beats quickly through his clothes, bouncing his vest up and down with adrenaline. Green narrows at you and your face heats. “But, no, honesty would probably be best, Sweetheart. I’d hate for you to be hurting and not tell me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smirk, swiping fatigue from your eyes as you yawn. “You’re very nice, Hesh—your brother too. Not what I would expect.”

Wide lids side-eye you, lips parted. There’s a second of still silence as you slouch back against the seat, placing your stitched arm over your abdomen and pulling Hesh’s hat farther down your head; even if it was wet, it had gained a semblance of a precious gift. Like a present on a holiday, one you shake because you’re so excited to open it you have to stimulate your mind with its hidden contents.

David blinks quickly, looking away to stare out the window and see the dark sky outside and the shadows it leaves as the twenty-minute drive to Fort Santa Monica truly begins. He lets you rest your eyes, but the comment has genuinely struck him.

Nice was not on the list of what most people called him. Stubborn—a natural-born leader, ruthless, and prey driven. But…nice. He clears his throat quietly and watches the raindrops sneak down the glass.

“You’re not too bad yourself, Ma’am.”

—

You’re sitting in a large room filled with screens playing black and white video footage, pulling at the collar of a two-size-to-big sweatshirt and shifting in large camo pants. They had taken your backpack. In front of you, the face of an older man was simply watching you as you looked around with fatigued wonder. Desks with stacks of papers; large computer data storage boxes, the entire works. One of the upsides to this, you blinked at a water dispenser and realized, was that the lights were dim in here and you were finally somewhere that had AC.

Inside your head, you were at a standstill. Part of you thought this was a dream, was this really all here the entire time, and you and the others just—

“I think we can start with names.” Your eyes whip forward, finding Elias Walker’s cold brown stare and graying hair as he stands across from the table you’re sitting at; your feet shuffle under the wood.

Hesh and Logan are by the door, the younger leaning on the wall petting Riley and the older keeping his arms crossed and fingers loose on the collar of his vest. Green softens when you look over slightly, a comforting smile finding your vision. He nods.

No need to be worried, he seems to say, I’m right here with you.

Over your head, the damp beanie was still there, now only slightly water-logged. You pull it down over your ears with a slow grip and listen.

“You can call me Elias, and those are my boys you met,” a pale hand is moved in explanation. He grunts, “I’d imagine you’re all acquainted well enough.”

You nod giving your name and mutter, “Nice to meet you.”

Elias crosses his arms over his chest—it’s not hard to see how all of these men are related, though Hesh is more of a carbon copy of the father. The older man has a calm but stern look on his face as he frowns.

“And what was it that drove a civilian down into Federation-occupied land? Past the Wall?” You fiddle with your fingers in your lap, licking your lips. Elias wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “Better yet, how exactly did you make it outside—only way out is through the checkpoint.” Brown darkens, “else there’s a breach I don’t know about.”

You struggle to answer, not sure if you know how to formulate a sentence that would make any sense. But this was starting to make you nervous. The unyielding intensity, Riley glaring at you, your blatant tiredness. Shock was settling but you didn’t know how to explain.

“How…” speech falters, and Hesh watches closely, frowning but knowing that you had to show them how you had gotten beyond the barrier. It was a massive security breach—it was a miracle you were even alive, really. “How long has it been since that wall was built?”

Elias stills. By the entrance, Hesh’s expression freezes. It’s as if the very air flips at the bare insinuation you offer forward.

Shifting his hips, the older man’s muscles tense, as if he’s thinking over something very important. “Ten years since ODIN struck. Work on the Wall started right after.” A silent pause. Expectant. You feel your face drain of blood; a blank horror.

Ten…ten years? It was silly, but your mind quickly went to your age—adding the numbers together and the time you missed. Ten years of hiding; of watching rare acquaintances die, scavenging for supplies. Ten years and this entire time you would have been able to live normally had the Federation camps moved just a tiny bit Eastward to open a path for you.

“I…” You clear your throat, forcing out a blatantly fake laugh through a whimper, “Wow. That’s something, huh?”

“You mean to tell me you’ve never left No Man’s Land?” Elias leans forward, placing his hands on the table and closing in. He doesn’t look angry, but his tone is disbelieving. Accusing. “That’s impossible.”

“Dad,” Hesh steps forward, holding out a hand in front of him and glancing at your numb face—the sway of oblivion.

“Ten years,” you whisper, staring off into Elias’s tense neck. “But she died just a week ago. All this time we could have…” David turns his head to you sharply.

It’s like time stands still in that room—a void completely separate from all else besides a brewing acceptance. No one knows who you’re talking about, but the context is little needed for the way you spoke. Obviously, you had lost someone terribly important to you and Hesh understood that the reason you had probably made it so far was because of whoever they had been. You weren’t exactly the perfect image of a natural survivalist—not helpless, no, just not like the Lieutenant of Sergeant. Certainly not like their father.

“Shit,” a hand is lightly placed over your mouth, stomach bunching in your abdomen.

“Let’s do this another time,” David interferes, and his father throws him a sharp glance. “It’s late, Dad. Everyone needs some rest; we can pick it back up in the morning—first light.” His mouth quirks in a stiff smile, and Logan backs him up silently.

Elias stands back up to his full height, crossing his arms loosely, and you’re stuck in the well that makes up your consciousness, descending bucket being fruitlessly dragged back up by a rusty handle only to fail halfway in the air as the rope bunches. The father sighs deeply and shakes his head, giving in to his son after a clench of his jaw. But it was obvious you posed no great threat.

“Alright.” Hesh nods and walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder as you look up at him slowly. He plasters a small smile on his face. It looked incredibly kind—the strong set of his eyebrows now soft.

“Why don’t you come with me?” Fingers squeeze into your flesh. “There’s a pretty good barracks building a five-minute walk from here—doesn’t smell like the others and you’ll get a room all to yourself.” Elias watches, face losing a part of that tense edge. He shares a glance with Logan and turns to resume his work. “That sound good? I swear I won’t put you up in building three.” You stare and he acts like he’s sharing some big secret as he lets you stand up. “Ant problem.”

You spare a tiny, broken, chuff of a laugh and his face brightens. A small win.

“You coming, Logan?” The Lieutenant asks, but the blonde is already shaking his head ‘no,’ pointing to the back exit to the shooting ranges. He was a night owl, through and through, and hasn’t changed a bit since they were kids. “Sounds good. I’ll take Riley.”

“You boys take it easy,” Elias says over his shoulder, and you stay at Hesh’s side as he leads you out of the room, whistling for the dog to come to a heel which the canine does with a lolling tongue and sharp ears.

“You too, old man. Don’t worry about us.”

“I always do.” The door closes and once again you three are walking together—Hesh more present with using his own body as a barrier between your form and Riley with his right hand near the dog’s vest handle.

“I think my dad came off a little heavy, sorry about that.” David’s voice brings you back, pulling that bucket a little farther up from the pit below. “It’s just…”

The sentence falls.

You bite your lip and say, “It’s just his job. Even when I think about it,” the man still hasn’t released your shoulder, but instead moves his hand to the span of your shoulder blades. You try not to shiver and fail when he listens as if you’re the most viable source of news ever created. “It does sound a little...insane.” For lack of a better word.

David chuffs, tilting his head and scrunching one eye. “Maybe just a little.”

The man feels you shaking and he doesn’t think you notice. Eyes wide and fingers twitching from where you keep them. The noise probably doesn’t help.

Buzzing lights and conversations only a door away as the two walk down the hallway and make it to the stairs to lead down to the main floor. From there the sounds were more barking dogs, vehicles, and gunfire from the training grounds.

This was a military base, after all, and it never really went to sleep. It must be grating to hear after the utter silence of No Man’s Land.

“...But you wouldn’t be the first, believe it or not.” David tries to keep your mind off it, keep your attention on him…but he was curious; desperately so. Yet still, he didn’t want to rush you. You looked so overwhelmed it made his chest squeeze. “Heard a few reports from Dallas before it fell—a family that had lived in a man-made bunker and were found by patrols five years in when they were out scavenging.”

“Really?” Your lashes caress your cheeks, and a small smile comes to you. You wonder how this man can make you feel so comforted; at ease despite the dog at his side and the various intimidating-looking gear strapped to him. Hesh was good-natured, it almost seemed impossible to imagine him a hardened soldier like you knew he really was. Kind, if not a bit mischievous and blunt. “That sounds more interesting than what I lived like.”

“Well, I doubt that.” Lips perk in a smirk. “Anyone with brains knows that time spent outside the Wall is always interesting.”

“We just moved around a lot,” you admit, “those soldiers were always changing camps so we never stayed long anywhere.”

“Hm,” Hesh makes a sound in the back of his throat, nodding. “Could’ve guessed that. Bastards jump around like cockroaches—can never get a good hit on ‘em.” He doesn’t press.

“Really?” You feel more present now, itching at your cheek before looking at Riley as he lopes along and watches the roads from where you walk on the sidewalk. “What about the pattern?”

David blinks his green eyes at you, face creasing.

“Pattern?”

“Yeah, they shift in a hexagon pattern every month. I had a map with it marked so I knew where to set camp.” Breath stills and Hesh stares at you, shocked, but his tone changes to a serious rush. He turns you slightly towards him with two hands on your arms.

“Would…you be able to mark those points again? If you had another map.” You lick your lips, cheeks going hot as you stutter, and feel his hands press into you. His chest was incredibly close to you, body heat leaking into your bones. Riley glares.

“Y-yeah, I think so.” David studies your face, searching for any hesitance. He pauses, green glimmering. There’s a moment when you notice the fast blinking on his face, the slight flush to his stubbled jaw as he clenches it, and are reminded of the caressing thumb that had dug into your inner elbow.

Delicate stitches.

The world blurs like a reflection in unknown water. Ripples that distort the streetlights into the shadows on his face and create soft waves of old scars and pale flesh in their warm illumination. Hesh’s breath hitches.

“G-good.” And he’s releasing you quickly as you wonder if being found by him was truly the best thing that could have happened. You spare a glance at Riley with racing blood, trying to stop the smile that insists to form for no reason. The dog cocks its head. “We’ll…get on that tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Whispers dance on airwaves as David keeps his eyes forward. Clearing his throat as you clock that tick and pull his beanie off. You bump your elbow to his side and he snaps his neck back over like a line with a hook. “You should have this back.”

You both walk slowly, side by side down a back street, and spare each other quick glances with flaming faces.

“No, that’s alright,” Hesh utters, rubbing at his neck and avoiding looking at you head-on. Your fingers brush the fabric and your expression softens. “I have a whole bunch in my room, don’t worry about it. I’d…” he chuckles to dispel the strange tension in his shoulders. “I want you to have it. Don’t want you cold.”

Your eyes crinkle, and the man swallows.

“So you think that your hat will help with that?” Teasing, you take it back anyways and situate it back on your head, shyly putting your hands into your pockets. “What? Is it special?”

“Woah,” Hesh, smirks with a raise of a hand, pointing lightly at you. “Hey now, Sweetheart, don’t disrespect my beanies like that—they’ll save your life.”

Laughs bounce off the street.

“I guess I’ll have to keep a close eye on it then,” Riley huffs and Hesh pats his neck firmly, giving him attention. “For my safety.”

“Damn right.” Your heart hurts from how fast it’s beating, that great muscle like a large drum that echoes in your ears. Skin tingles with an undeniable tension in the air.

The barracks building comes into view.

It’s nothing extravagant, but the thought of a soft bed and a pillow not filled with mold was addicting. Your eyes blink along the structure as Hesh leads you in, keeping the door open for you as he tells Riley to sit at the entrance. The dog does so, though obviously with disapproval—grunting in that lupine way as the barrier separates him and his handler.

“He really does not like me,” you mutter out, raising a brow and catching back up to David who waits a few more feet into the building.

The brunette sighs.

“He does tend to hold grudges. Once he wouldn’t play fetch with Logan for two days because he forgot to give him his dinner.”

“Hell,” your brows raise up, “my odds are in the ground.”

“Probably, Ma’am.” You elbow his side again and he chuckles, bumping his shoulder into you as his hands sway at his sides. “Ah, don’t hold it too close, Riley’s just a special case. My father trained him so he’s all business.” A smirk, “Nothing like me.”

You stop as Hesh does—in front of a nice-looking wooden door.

“Here.” He points to the handle and you grasp it, twisting and pushing past.

You enter a tiny but clean room smelling like linen and golden light. Delicately, as if the world would break apart if you touched anything you stare at the lamp on the nightstand, the curtain over the window; the…comfort. The sight of an extra blanket on the end of the bed almost made you cry.

“Now,” Hesh slides past you as your lip quivers, wide eyes looking around. “No one else can access these barracks without an ID, so there’s nothing that should go…wrong…”

He trails off when he sees your face.

“Hey,” David takes a step forward. “What’s wrong?” His eyes slip around, looking for what might have upset you as he comes back to you.

“Nothing,” fingers lightly rest on your collarbone as you shake your head; vision going blurry at the man’s worried face. “Nothing’s wrong, Hesh, I promise. Just…” you laugh wetly, and a tear drops down your chin. “I forgot what it was like to have an extra blanket.”

It was more than that, but the statement was all you could describe right now without making a complete fool of yourself. David’s breath stills, hand stuck an inch from your arm.

He watches the tears fall from you and, without thinking, he reaches up the back of his pointer finger and brushes it along the flesh; creating a line of fire up until he completely swipes it away. After a second of quivering silence, the air flimsy as your lungs jump, he finds no fear or discomfort in your expression and does this again—wiping away any trace of past hurts.

Blinking, you tilt your head forward and bump it into his chest. Startled slightly, Hesh grunts, but his hand finds the back of your head above his beanie and cups it, staring down at you with hot cheeks and a thick throat.

“I…” he begins but can’t find the words. You made him want to skin his hands of calluses so that the roughness of his touch was foreign to you.

You only deserved warm flesh and extra blankets. As much food as you could eat—soft mattresses and even softer clothes. So short of a time he had known you, but not a second more did he want you to suffer.

Ten years. He can’t even imagine it, and yet here you are in his arms. Kind. Unbroken.

Hesh’s head stutters, hesitating, before his neck bends and he presses his face into the top of your head, closing his sad eyes and running his other hand up and down your back.

Sniffling, you melt even more into him.

“She died a week before you found me—my friend. She was with me since the beginning.” The hitched voice that comes out of you is so quiet that the brunette has to strain his ears to listen but listen to you he does. Silent as a bug and tightening his hold so you hear his strong heartbeat rampaging in his chest.

Logan and him did this a lot when their mother died. Just hugged and held each other as if their lives depended on it. He doesn't know why, but he knows it has to be the same for you as well.

“Infection. She fell,” your voice cuts out, “fell on a rusty nail. She’s the only reason I made it this far.”

“Where were you?” Hesh asks, lungs aching for you. “When ODIN struck—in town?”

You return to that time, hand sliding up to wrap around his waist to ground yourself. David lets you, increasing the pressure of his gentle hand on your spine. “Hiking. It…it was a family vacation.”

His jaw clenched tight. A swelling hatred strangles his neck, a feeling that makes his eyes slip back open—forests burning in his iris’ in great waves of an inferno. He had never wanted to charge out into San Diego more than at this very moment.

A family vacation had turned into a decade of surviving. Hesh didn’t have the heart to ask about where your family was now. He already knew the answer.

“Everything just…fell apart.” Your ribs hide your fast-paced lungs, your sniffling nose stuck deep into fabric.

“I know,” the man grunts, “I know it did, I’m sorry.” It’s all he can say. He knows. David pulls you back by the shoulders after a moment and slightly moves his head down to look at you head-on. “But you’re here now, okay? Behind the Wall. You made it. And I’m gonna make sure that you’re never alone like that again.” He attempts a smile as you see his concerned expression, shining with sincerity and honor. “I’d stake Riley on it.”

The wet giggle that exits you is automatic, and Hesh chuckles right back; put at ease and ears bouncing with that sound that he commits instantaneously to memory.

“That’s counterintuitive, Hesh. I don’t want your dog.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing I never break my word, huh?” Perhaps why he was so good at this, comforting people, was because of Logan. Only two years apart, but he’d taken the big brother role easily—loved it, in fact. It made him feel good to see people smile.

But it made him feel on the moon when it was you.

You watch his green eyes slip over your face, thumb going to wipe away the last drops on your under eye as a deep heat starts smoking inside of you. David speaks lowly, compassion so visible you find you want to gaze upon his face for hours; mapping lines and piecing together what made this man…him.

“Feeling better?” Smiling softly, you find yourself leaning into his hands on your face. The brunette smiles back and chuckles. It wouldn’t be so bad, you decide, to stick by his side—even if Riley was less than approving.

“Feeling better.”

You sleep that night with an extra blanket wrapped around your body and a dark beanie on your head; taking in the scent from the fibers of thistle and dog hair. You’d never smelt something more comforting.

—

A week passes with a flurry of activity. You find out that Los Angeles is still habitable—in fact, there’s a stable economy in the city and people are thriving. Fort Santa Monica is home to not only a handful of civilians from before the war but also an incredibly large amount of military personnel all under Elias Walker's command.

Hesh had taken you out on the third day for a ‘tour’ as he called it, but it was also due to the fact that you’d been too afraid to leave your room when not called upon. There were so many…noises…again. People laughing, happy conversations, and greetings thrown your way.

“Word got out about the girl that lived in No Man’s Land,” David had teased as you awkwardly waved at a woman in fatigues that had slapped your shoulder and invited you out for drinks with her friends. You had politely declined. “Everyone’s eager, seems.”

“I think I forgot how to properly speak to people,” you had sent a frown and a huff his way, keeping close to him as he led you on with a wave of his hand and a deep chuckle.

But in all this time you had earned yourself a big reputation for being the woman who handed over intel that others had only just begun to unravel. Federation base locations. Patterns on movement—irreplaceable data.

Which was why you’d been asked, rather told, by Hesh that you’d be going to the bar with him and Logan for drinks. On the house.

You’d quickly found it to be a strange affair.

“Not feelin’ up to it, Sweetheart?” your eyes lift from where you’d been swirling your still-full glass of amber liquid. “I know it can be a little loud—I’m sorry. Merrick’s a giggly drunk.”

Green eyes stare at you with pity, throat bobbing as a beer bottle sits on Hesh’s lips; the last dregs going down before he wipes his mouth with his sleeve.

“If you wanna leave I’ll walk you back, okay?”

“No,” you wave a hand, touched but hesitant, “that’s alright. I’m fine, really.”

The lieutenant smirks and tilts his head—raising a dark brow in disbelief. The two of you had gotten close over the days; he had told you early on that you were easy to read for him.

“Don’t make that face at me, David.” You glare, pointing from your seat at the bar top. Hesh rolls his eyes and shakes his head as if disappointed.

“Whoa, first name—that’s illegal.”

Your lips pull up in a sharp smile, leaning over the table as the music from the building plays in your ears; warm light on your cheeks and nose. “David, David, David!”

“Hey! Quit it!” You’d grown fond of him in a way you can’t describe. So short of time and yet you both still get giddy when you see one another—hearts hammering. Even now as the laughter spills from both of your lips and people in the bar spare knowing glances, you don’t address it.

“But really,” Hesh levels and you watch him spread his hands in surrender, beer bottle still shimmering in one hand, “whenever you want to go, just ask.”

“Hesh!” A call bounces from the far corner and you both look over, startled, to Ajax at the pool table. “Get over here so I can wipe the floor with you!”

There’s a bout of laughter from the other bar patrons, bets being placed loudly.

“Hey, it won’t be that easy—you’re on!” Hesh is off with a rush, patting your shoulder as he passes. You watch after with a wide smile and a raised brow, muttering to yourself.

“He’s unbelievable.” You can’t deny the loftiness that you feel when he looks happy like that. Really happy. It’s nearly a curse to try and think about what he would have become if the Federation hadn’t fired ODIN. He would have been in the military still, no doubt, but not quite the same.

Hell, what would you have been like, even?

A shadow slips into the chair next to yours, and you look over, content. “Hey, Logan.”

The younger brother nods to you, sipping from his glass of water, a greeting smile on his square jaw. True to the brunette’s word, he was very quiet, but you didn’t find it in a disrespectful way. Logan carried himself with a subdued power, and the dichotomy between Hesh and him was laughable when you really thought about it; polar opposites.

You didn’t mind in the slightest.

Holding an easy conversation with nods or tiny comments back, you spoke with him for about twenty minutes while Hesh and Ajax called each other names and threw baseless threats through smirking lips like toddlers. At one point a very drunk Petty Officer Second Class, Thomas A. Merrick, had to drag a laughing Ajax off the pool table while you and Logan watched with exasperated glances.

But the air was easy and the drink was flowing—soldiers from all over the Fort were here tonight. For you, though most just came for a good sip of alcohol and you didn’t blame them. You just did what was right, nothing more.

“I think I’m gonna head out,” you tap a fist to Logan’s shoulder and he looks at you, sparing a quick glance at Hesh. You smile. “Nah, I think he’s going to be at it for a while. I’ll just walk back by myself—I’ve got my keycard, so I’m all good.”

A yell of victory rings from the corner before a loud exclamation of, “Rematch, right now! Your foot hit one of the balls to the left when you were climbing it!”

“It did not!” Logan stares blankly behind you and you laugh, slipping past.

“Tell Hesh I said to have a good night!” You call over your shoulder, catching adoring brown eyes following you out and a mock salute from his water glass.

Riley sits outside, resting his eyes, but when the door closes behind you the canine springs to his feet. The week hadn’t soured your relationship, but it definitely didn’t make it better either. Frowning, you pause in the night and look at the empty food dish and the filled water cup set out by Hesh for him.

“Tough luck, bud?” A muzzle lightly curls, but at least he wasn’t barking at you. Ears stand alert and ready. “Look,” you level, pulling Hesh’s beanie farther down your head as those beady eyes glare. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, okay? It’s not like I want you to hate me—I was protecting myself. You,” your finger points, and a lupine huff warns you, “came at me.” You point to your chest. “Remember?”

It was comedic the way Riley yawned harshly at that moment, and you scoff.

“Who am I kidding, you’re hopeless just like your handler. I shouldn’t even be doing this,” reaching into your jacket pocket, you produce a small, soggy, napkin. Bending down, Riley growls low in his gut, but you ignore him. Not to say that the sound didn’t make your lips thin, though.

Unraveling the knot you’d tied in the bar, you look down at tiny cubes of medium-rare steak and sigh. “Look if this doesn’t work, I’ll give up.”

Flattening out the napkin, you pick up a piece and turn your vision upwards to an intently watching dog. At the sight of the food in between your thumb and first finger, the dog’s mouth gradually opens, tongue beginning to lull. A black nose twitches quickly.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you grumble, “Hesh said you were a food fiend.”

Tossing one of the pieces on the ground, you let him sniff it before his teeth flash and he grabs it quickly, tossing it up and munching on it. When Riley’s done he looks back at you expectantly, shoulders less wound up but still uneasy.

“Well,” you push the rest forward before standing, “go on then. Don’t let me stop you.”

Shaking your head to yourself, you leave him behind and set off down the street, mumbling, “You can’t say I never did anything for you…”

You hear the sniffing before the clammer of biting teeth, happy pants, and tapping feet. Huffing, you can’t deny the slight jump that affects your heart. You’d have to tell Hesh about the progress tomorrow.

Your cheeks heat, smiling to yourself as you think about the brunette. His hands always seemed to be on you one way or another and during the last two days he’d been holding onto you for longer; firm touches that he had to blink himself back to the present to take away. The actions made your skin tingle and more than once you’d caught your gaze lingering on his visage—his body. As if trying to will him back to you when he had to leave.

But the staring was mutual. You had sworn at one point you had seen him more intent to fuzzily look at your moving lips than to focus on what you were explaining. Fingers absentmindedly tapping on a desk and humming at every word from you. The look had been…your body shivers warmly in remembrance, staring giddily at your shoes.

You continue down the street, circles of light from the lamps hitting you one by one as you glide under them like a moth. Humming a light tune, you take the route that Hesh had brought you down the first time, imagining his hands on you and his lips on yours.

When you giggle silently and chastise yourself for thinking like that, you hear the last whispers of a distant conversation that lead you to pause.

Your face freezes, smile stuck as your legs stall. It was Spanish wafting over the air, hushed and harsh. That wouldn’t be alarming, many people here spoke the language fluently as it was the native one of the entirety of the Federation—it was needed for intelligence gathering, or at least that was what Hesh had explained. No use going into No Man’s Land if you can’t understand the driving force occupying it.

But this was hushed arguing, not some common conversation. It didn’t sound normal and the scuffling feet over the concrete gave you pause. The night suddenly became very cold. Backing up a step as you stare in the general direction of the increasing footfalls, the sudden sight of three heavily armed men as they round a corner with strong eyes.

Your vision finds them immediately—and they do the same for you. It was instinctual, then, when your suddenly fevered face snapped to their patches.

Gold stars and a black rhombus. Red outlined. Your expression utterly drops.

There’s a single instance where no one moves, neither you nor those three Federation soldiers that now stare right back with an equal amount of shock.

“Eh,” you make a sound in the confines of your throat and all hell breaks loose.

Jolting away, shouts ring out as hands snatch at your limbs, and you can’t even begin to think about how these people got into the Wall undetected.

Everyone’s at the fucking bar!

Yelling loudly, you dash to the side, a quick swipe going above your head as the beanie is wrenched off of you instead of your hair. Not bothering to fight for it, though a large part of you wanted to, your feet take you anywhere but here.

Roaring in anger, the soldiers pursued with rampaging boots and vitriolic order. Why they don’t shoot you is a wonder. Maybe it was because they wanted to try and salvage what they’d already lost.

The screams escape you as you dash backward, retracing your steps but it isn’t going to be long before they catch you—true to that idea, just as the words exit your mouth, a harsh hand captures the back of your neck.

“David!” The other winds around your mouth, muffled screams stuck behind gloves. Legs and arms striking out, your body is dragged into a back alley; the others all join to force you to submission.

Your boot connects with someone’s kneecap, and a hoarse yell echoes as you rage with a frenzied pulse. Wide eyes look this way and that, sweat forming on your brow as a punch finds your gut and a resounding insult flies to your ears.

Going slack for a moment, the violent white that bursts behind your vision leaves your straining muscles useless and you try to breathe behind the unrelenting hand over your mouth and nose. Like a shot deer, your dragging legs give out; coughing and gasping for air.

Pain shoots down your chest with ruthless efficiency.

You suppose in that moment of ringing ears, that it was chance that you heard the dull shunk of a knife being taken from a sheath. It wasn’t chance, though, when your desperate teeth snapped into the heavy hand, ignoring pain and the tears smeared over your face.

With a sharp cry, the hand loosens enough for you to get the last word, a brief moment of clear realization, “Riley,” you scream with little breath but sufficient volume, “Come!”

The knife descended on you, but you jerked your shoulder to the side, head ripped back to bare your neck to the silent moonlight as the hand recovered your face. Black dots swirl, shadows lingering like phantoms in the recesses of your mind and spilling demons from your eyes. Hatred flares in you, but not as much as fear does. That silver blade connects with the meat of your neck and shoulder junction, tearing past muscle and tissue to rent a large slash open to the air.

Your legs kick before arms wrap around them—more quickly called orders and insults directed at the one who had missed your neck peeling back the drums inside of your ear. Thick, hot, blood stains your clothes; the copper scent gets stuck in your nose as you gag and try to force your lungs to function with nothing to suck down. Darkness seeps deeper, and the knife is brought up once more, the tip digging into your cheek with a firm bite when you try to flinch away.

That’s when a guttural and vociferous yowl exudes from the chest of a rampaging canine as it bursts from around the corner of the alley, white teeth glinting and eyes red.

Riley has the man with the knife by the neck in two seconds flat, reaming him back and clinging to his spine with only his fangs on his nape. Multiple wet crunches echo for but a moment, a small sliver in time, but then the loud pained bellows that follow after drown out all else. Like a bomb had been dropped, the man Riley keeps ripping apart falls sideways, hands reaching behind his head to try and pry the dog off. In a fit of fear and stupefaction at the turn of events the remaining men release you, tossing your body to the side and into the adjacent wall in panic.

Hands reach for guns but it’s already too late. Riley has ripped the entire back of the man’s head off in a flurry of fur and jerking maw—flesh peeling back in long strings into a waiting mouth as the screams continue. Now, though, they come from only the remaining soldiers as you watch with mute horror; gripping your leaking cut and vision fuzzy from the blow that your head had taken from slamming into the wall. Lack of oxygen.

With all the ruckus, it was only customary that the streets were soon awake with confusion and rising tension. You swore you heard your name being called streets over, hurried yelling as the lights flicker on from the building across the road.

But Riley. Christ, Riley.

The second man’s pistol was stopped from rising any farther as fast fangs found a wrist, the shot bouncing off the ground as you balked back against the wall and cried out. Across the Fort, the yelling starts up. Louder now. That remaining soldier unaffected thus far by the feral rage is snapping into a ready stance—shaking as the barrel is leveled with the dog’s skull as sharp points go for the kill once again.

“Riley!” You snag out a leg and rip it back, curling your foot around his ankle. Black clothes hit the ground hard, as the man inside went with them.

It carried on just the same.

Panting you stare into the blood-dripping muzzle that now turns your way, three opened necks pooling to the ground and twitching. Gargling gasps dribble like glasswork exploding in kilns; such a vulgar, primal, sound. But you only stare at the beady brown eyes as they seem to bite you as well. Framed with crimson, whiskers droopy as droplets hit your knee and rancid breath slides over your stalled face.

“Please…” you mutter, bruised head turning to the side, eyes clenched shut. Licking lips resonate and you clench your hands as you finally hear the frantic calling of your name coming down the road. Fast-moving shadows.

Hesh.

Riley breathes on you, but before your swallowing throat can call out the brunette in fear of what the dog will do, a wet tongue licks a long stripe over your cheek. Eyes bugging, you snap your head back up, jaw slackened and brain struggling to calm down.

The dog watches with a slow tilt of his head, tail lowly swishing.

“What the fuck,” gasping wetly, the hand on your wound lessens, hot fluid gushing between fingers.

Riley huffs, feet shifting.

Laughing slightly in anxious confusion, your free hand lightly raises. Soft fur conforms to you, letting your digits weave through the locks. Riley licks his lips once more and sits on his fluffy behind, ears sharply up and twitching.

Hesh nearly runs past the sight, heart too fast for his chest and teeth clenched tight together. His mind was as sober as it could be—a deep sense of unease clawing in his gut.

He’s heard the screaming; the gunshot. When he’d run out of the bar after doing a quick headcount for you and being unable to place your form, Riley had already been gone. A trail of dust and a floating napkin were the only indicators. But the fear was worse than that.

Where had you gone? Were you in danger? No thought was behind his sprinting, just a flushed face and a deep need to keep you safe. He’d promised you.

No one had been able to stop his senseless searching as he took off at a racer’s pace, looking down alleyways and carrying the pistol in his right grip until his knuckles had gone white and see-through. Like a loyal hound, Hesh was intent to find you. Even if it turned out to be nothing.

And then the real screams started, and so he screamed too—your name.

But now he slams a hand into the concrete wall and reels himself back, a hunched shadow stiff in the side of his green vision before he can fully pass the alleyway entrance.

“Holy…” Hesh trails harshly, gaze going wide.

You were there surrounded by three Federation soldier’s bodies and while that was alarming, there was only so much you could do when you were a corpse. Riley held in your arms was something that Hesh couldn’t begin to explain.

But the shock was short-lived.

“Sweetheart!” He called, boots propelling him forward as he slid to one knee in front of you, hands pushing past fur and muscle to bring yours forward by your shoulders. A handgun is placed into the back of his belt. “Woah, woah, hey. Tell me what happened. Where does it hurt?”

Staring into your eyes you immediately relax at the presence of the man, his large body seeming to shield you away while sending glances around the area; not liking the thought of more attackers.

“Hesh,” you breathe, massive weight coming off of you even as you bite your lip in a pained whimper.

“I’m here. I’m right here.” Hands travel over your body, gliding over bumps and bruises quickly and efficiently. “What the fuck…” he growls deeply. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

A swift glance is sent to the canine who watches blankly.

“Good job, boy.” You stare blurrily into Hesh’s neck as he carefully peels back your hand, face scrunching and body pulling together as sparks of agony alight as the gaping cut meets the breeze.

“I,” stuttering, you ignore his harsh inhale, the ripping of his shirt as he presses the tattered cloth to your neck. You shiver. “I lost your beanie.”

Fearful green eyes lock on your as the calls from the rest of the soldiers from the bar finally make an appearance. How fast had Hesh been running to find you?

“Hey, don’t even worry about it,” his palm encapsulates your cheek like a prized family heirloom, keeping your face pointed toward him as you shiver. The soft scraping of his hard calluses itches your flesh. A strained smile graces his lips, “I’ll give you another one.” He looks the rest of you over and grits his teeth.

He doesn’t care about the dead soldiers—the possibility of a breach. Suddenly, all of his priorities had shifted in the short span of a week, horrible loyalty rearing its head.

“I need you to stand up for me, Sweetheart, okay? I’ll be right here, I just need you on your feet. I know you can do it.” You nod shakily, pulling strength from his resolve as his arm pulls you to his chest like it had when you’d first hugged; using his muscles to drag you up a second after checking to see if you weren’t in too much pain.

Standing now, his grip stays around you, propping you up into the crook of his arm and increasingly looking more and more worried.

When you flinch and whine, he looks about ready to burn down cities to bring you comfort.

“Riley, come on!” Hesh calls, then softer, “I know it hurts, but you’re doing great. Keep at it just a little longer.”

He moves you quickly, and the pounding in the back of your head threatens to drown out everything—your neck and ribs barely made a dent like that did. A pan being hit with a spoon. Nails on a chalkboard.

“Logan!” David yells, and he feels incredibly warm. Riley brushes your staggering legs, keeping close and looking up at you. Leaning in more heavily, you gaze up into Hesh’s frowning face, his continued glances, and the furrow in his brow.

You wonder how you’d never noticed how truly handsome he was before. Hesh had a strong face—good bones and a soft nature to his skin besides the stubble. And his eyes. Oh, his eyes. You blink up at him and he spares a stiff smile, mostly dragging you down the alley.

Other feet pound the ground near the entrance.

“What’s that look for? Huh? Makin’ me nervous over here.” His fingers squeeze your shoulder. “Got something on my face?”

“You’re kind, Hesh.” You whisper, blinking and stumbling before he grunts, twisting his grip to bring you up into a bridle hold. “Far kinder than you should be.”

His heart breaks.

Clenching your teeth, you bury your head into his neck before the brunette starts to run again. He pounds past Logan and a group of armed soldiers, who slide to a quick stop. Hesh only spares his wide-eyed brother a single, horror-stricken, look on the way through. Riley follows.

“Just keep talking.” He pleads, your dead weight in his grip worse than anything he’d ever experienced. “Y’know, you keep ending up in my arms.” He rounds corners, heading to the MTF with a bursting pulse. Hesh keeps looking down at you, pressing your head closer with a hand as if he could bleed himself to give you strength. “I think I should get my own plaque—Pack Mule. What do you think?”

Laugh, please, laugh. Please, I need to hear it.

You laugh slightly, ear ringing to his blood flow. You want to melt into him, let him keep holding you like this and keeping you to him like a stuffed animal. His breath on your cheek, his glassy eyes and bitten lips.

You’d known he was good from the moment you had seen him standing and gaping at your form in that bathroom cabinet, willing to treat your wound without even knowing if you were armed.

He’s good.

Hesh sprints past an entrance, shoulder slamming into a glass door as it’s thrown to the side.

“Nurse!”

You don’t know why, but hearing his voice crack like that made you want to sob.

—

The soft antibacterial whip made you glower and flinch back, frowning straight into Hesh’s serious face.

“If you clean it anymore my skin will fall off.” You shoo his hand away from your shoulder, pulling the hospital gown back up in the process.

“Just making sure it’s healing,” he looks up at you from his chair as you sit on the end of the bed. “Can’t be too careful.”

“Says the man who’s been here every day and leaves Riley to watch the door when he has to go to the bathroom.”

“Hey,” Hesh blushes, pulling back to slouch and crossing his arms. “It’s called being cautious. We still don’t know where the breach is.”

You stare with a soft smile, exasperation in your eyes.

“David,” he raises a brow at the title, “I’m okay.”

Moving your hand from your lap, you absentmindedly pet the dog that sleeps on the hospital bed, itching behind Riley’s ears. Hesh watches, moments passing as the small tension seeps out little by little. He glances at the outline of stitches that he has to place bandages on soon but quickly looks away, frowning to himself.

You sigh, shaking your head.

“When I heard your voice from the alleyway entrance, I knew I would be just fine.” Green slowly slides back, gaze softening considerably as he watches your expression. A low grunt is forced out, a rubbing of a hand on his neck. “You promised, didn’t you?” Your head tilts. “You haven’t broken it.”

“No, I haven’t,” Hesh breathes, standing, “and I don’t intend to.”

You smile, face hot as his vision blinks to the upturn of your lips. “Hey,” Riley stirs next to you, “at least I know I won him over.” Your hand pats the dog’s head.

The brunette stares and a moment passes before he whispers, “knew you would.”

Blinking, you turn to find the most delicate expression on David's face and your breath hitches in your chest. He swallows but doesn’t hesitate. The words had been eating at him for a while, and as he was never one to shy away from speaking his mind, it was like torture to keep this from you. But now…now events have forced him into the spotlight. He can’t forgo this anymore, he can’t lie and say he hadn’t been sneaking glances or daydreaming about you. Your smile, your voice—even the way you walked or how your eyes lit up when you were passionate about something.

It was just right, and seeing you like this now only strengthened that. Hesh had felt fear like he had when he was carrying you a total of a mere handful in his entire life.

He mutters, “I knew from the second I found you out in No Man’s Land that you were special.”

Not believing your ears, you stop your petting. Wide eyes like dinner plates and a half-parted mouth.

Was he…?

“I knew when you made me laugh when I was carrying you through the hills,” Hesh takes a step closer and grabs you lightly by the chin, tilting it up with a finger. His face was adorably burning, but you short-circuit at the words that continue to flow with candor. Your heart skips beats and with a clammy hand, you reach up to brush his wrist. Shivering, confidence builds. “I knew when I hugged you the first night you were here and,” he looked down, “I…I knew you were special when I felt my heart bursting out of my chest when I found you in that alley.”

“Hesh,” you whisper, and you realize you close the two of you had become, breath mixing like a cocktail of glorious infection and stolen words.

“If I hadn’t gotten there on time…”

“Hesh.”

“...Even if I’ve only known you for a short while, Sweetheart, I can’t stop thinking the same thing every time I see you.” You stare, eyes wet, and suddenly no longer aware of where your head is anymore.

His lips brush yours, but all you care about are those green eyes; digging, drilling past membranes and thoughts more effectively than any blade. You’re entranced, wholeheartedly frozen just for him—just as he is for you.

It’s nothing but a whisper now. You feel the words more than hear them. His thumb tightens on your chin, and you don’t pull back as you steal his warmth. His kindness.

His loyalty.

“...that even if I hadn’t entered that house on that rainy Tuesday,” he shutters, “I’d still be looking for you everywhere I went.”

When his lips meet yours, you capture his soul, dragging him down into the depths of your lungs and breathing hope back into him. You smile through it, bandaged and stitched but happier than you’d been in a long time.

Pulling back from a soft and delicate meeting of flesh, both faces are heated, burning under the pigments. There’s a moment of sanctity—holy silence one would find in a church during high mass—as you stare at one another. Hesh’s fingers run small movements on your skin. You beam and he says in a whisper, “Hey…I guess that means I did something right.”

“You’re lucky you’re perfect, David.”

“I could say the same about you, Sweetheart.” You giggle and drag him back in as Riley snoozes on, legs kicking in a silent dream.

When the nurses come to check on you in four hours, they’ll find the bed occupied by three forms.

A soldier, a patient, and a dog. All curled up in a pile of multiple blankets and hard pillows—arms wrapped around one another with the man pressing the woman’s face deep into his chest; even breaths of a soft sleep that sing like rare lullabies. All, in their own way, seem to have heavy smiles stuck into the lines of their faces.

They leave them be.

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inkdrinkerworld · 6 months

Note

Hear me out, logan (wolverine) teasing bunny reader, like teasing readers tail and ears and stuff UGHHH OMG AND LIKE ORGASM CONTROL FUCKKK

Cw: 18+ONLY MDNI, smut, orgasm control and denial. Hybrid!au

Don’t like it don’t read it

“Don’t you fucking dare,” the threat is out of his mouth before you can even beg and it makes you whine.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been here, but Logan’s had you on your hands and knees for what feels like hours just torturing you.

Ever since he found out that any stimulation on your tail or ears could help get you along, he’d been obsessed with edging you.

“Please,” you cry, shoulders giving out forcing you flat on your chest.

He’s kneeling behind you, cock hard against his stomach as he watches your slick race down your thighs at another almost orgasm.

“Please what? We haven’t even reached six yet, bub.” You swear, you’d made a deal, that you’d let him edge you six times and on the seventh you’d come. At the time six edges didn’t seem that many, but now it feels like an impossible mountain to climb.

“Please let me come, Lo. I need it so bad.” You manage to say right before he slips three thick fingers back into you and starts stroking the skin right above your tail.

“No.” It’s concise and harsh, his lips pulling into a smirk when he finds the gummy spot inside you that has your body shaking. “If you ask again you’re not coming at all.”

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lumosinlove · 5 months

Text

Vaincre

June part i

Hope you all enjoy! Maybe all of Finn's superstitions in this chapter can go towards helping me beat this cold I've got...

Also, it's beginning to look a lot like ficmas...doo doo doo doo doo...:)

Ain’t it funny how I’ve wanted this all my life?

It started with a no look pass. That’s when Remus felt the buzz. Sirius had nearly put one in from James, who had kept his eyes straight ahead, drawing Saint’s attention. And it had almost worked. At least it had brought the promising feeling of a win. The click of the team. Remus shouldn’t be thinking like that. They were six minutes away from the first period's horn and this game changed at the drop of a hat. Logan had collided with Kota at one point, and there was something there now. Quiet hostility. A they were mine first type of deal. Remus could see it all over Logan’s face, no matter how much Kota loomed over him.

Now the Rangers had a high sticking penalty. Remus took his mouth guard out as the whistle blew and shoved it into his glove. Sirius was on the other side of the ice, on the tail of one of the referees and talking a mile a minute, gesturing to James and his bloody lip. There was a kid at the glass just behind him with a sign that said Nuts for Knutty! and he was still clutching the puck Leo had thrown him earlier. Remus almost wished the game would just pause for a moment so he could take it in properly. If this was to be the last game of his first season in the NHL, he wanted to remember it.

“Ouch,” Remus said to James as they circled close for the face-off.

“You bet,” James said, dabbing at his mouth.

Coach kept him on for the penalty kill. Sirius faced off against Zibanejad and Remus darted backwards when he won it. It had that game six feeling: All of them just wanting it to be over already, the slog of knowing that, if the Lions wanted it to go their way, they had one more full game stretch after this one to push through. Maybe more. Play-offs meant there was no over-time, and no shoot-out, just endless periods until someone gave in.

The puck was stuck in their zone and Thomas was beginning to look gassed. Kasey was up in the net, shifting with every ebb and flow of the Rangers’ passing. Remus poked the puck out from Kakko’s grasp and hoped it was clean—he’d nearly felt like he’d hooked it, but the whistle didn’t go. He managed to get it out of the zone and saw Thomas and Olli race off towards the bench gratefully.

He and Sirius didn’t say anything once they were seated next to each other, just caught their breath and watched. Pascal delivered a sound slap-shot, but it went just wide. Logan got the rebound, easy, and sent it to Fox. The horn went just before they put anything real together.

“D’accord,” Sirius said, tapping Remus’ thigh. “We’re not good, but we’re not bad.”

“What an endorsement.”

Remus handed off his gloves off to be dried as they walked down the tunnel. He could hear fans shouting their names as they passed by the glass that looked into the VIP lounge. There was a small girl standing there in a BLACK jersey. Remus watched as Sirius smiled down at her and touched his glove to the glass. The girl grinned and a woman who Remus thought must be her mother promptly burst into tears.

“Jesus.” Thomas laughed from behind him.

“Just me, actually,” Sirius said, and Thomas shoved him.

The locker room already had music playing so Remus guessed that Coach had decided to let them be, or perhaps Sirius had requested a players only break. Remus sat back in his stall and yanked his helmet off. He cut through the beat up tape of his stick with a short blade and sent a look towards Leo, who had a towel around his neck. He was leaned in close to Kasey, who was talking quietly to him.

“Kind of thought Coach was going to say something,” Thomas said. “Is Cap…”

“I didn’t hear him ask,” Remus said, but looked towards Sirius. He was glancing towards the door, too. It opened, and Remus expected Arthur or one of the assistants, but to his surprise, Alex O’Hara slipped through. He was in full gear, only a backwards hat replacing his helmet.

“Oh,” Remus breathed. He looked towards Kasey and Leo. Oh.

“What the hell,” Thomas said. He opened his mouth, obviously ready to shout something at Alex, but Remus put a hand on his thigh to stop him. Thomas looked over at him. “What?”

Kasey had already seen Alex and Remus watched his chest rise and fall in a quick, uneven breath. He put a hand on Leo’s knee, gave him a short smile, and then stood just as Alex reached him. Alex put a hand on his waist, but they said nothing. Kasey simply held his gaze for a long moment, and then turned to the room.

Oh.

“Hey, boys,” Kasey said, voice raised. “Boys, can I…” He’d taken some of his padding off, his hair pushed back from his face. “Can I talk for a second?”

It took everyone a moment to quiet down. They were a little surprised, maybe. Kasey wasn’t one to make speeches, even if it was a players only meeting, but he walked slowly to the center of the locker room.

“Sorry,” he smiled, but it was shaky. “I know we’re all focused on the W. I’ll be quick.”

“Don’t worry, Bliz. What’s up?” Sirius said, and Remus saw that his gray eyes were already somber. They darted to Remus’. If Remus had to guess, Kasey had asked Sirius to keep the room clear for him. Maybe even to have someone get Alex.

“Well. Thanks, Cap.” He looked around at them all. “Look, I know our season’s not over, boys, but I just wanted to say…God.” Kasey cleared his throat, looked down so his hair fell back into his face some. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Kase,” Alex said softly from just behind him.

Remus couldn’t describe how difficult it was, watching Kasey, Kasey of all people, get choked up. Watch him work to speak around tears. He watched some of the others realize what was probably about to happen. Thomas’ face fell. Leo stood, like he was going to go to Kasey.

“There, uh,” Kasey cleared his throat, tried for a smile. “There isn’t much I love more than you guys. Really. These years have just been the best of my life.”

“Bliz…” James breathed, took a step forward. The realization was slow around the room, but it was there. This had been in the air for so long that it felt strange to see it properly.

“Really, they have.” Kasey said. “I mean…God, lock me in this room, see if I put up a fight. I won’t. But. But it’s not good for me. I don’t want out of this game, I really don’t, I just—my body can’t do it anymore, boys. And I have to see that. I have to respect it.”

Remus put a hand to his chest. It was the strangest thing, he couldn’t remember ever having any sort of conversation like this one with his college teammates. Sometimes, he thought he had forced himself to forget moments from that time. Pushed them out of his mind. Now, he tried to remember. He tried to think of saying goodbye, or good game, or even being in the locker room with his sling. He couldn’t remember, but he wanted to help Kasey and so he tried. All that came was a blur of pain and dark rooms and a young, young Julian.

“I just…I have a feeling that…” Kasey wiped at his eyes. “Fuck. I know I shouldn’t have done this in the middle of a fucking—elimination game, oh my God.” It drew a small laugh out of most of the team. “You know, this isn’t gonna be our final game of the season, no fucking way, but it could be mine because it’s hard out there and—” His voice pitched up and he cleared his throat. “And I didn’t want it to happen, I didn’t want it to end, without everyone knowing, which is probably—maybe at one point in my life I would’ve called that selfish but I don’t think it is now.”

And then Leo was at his side, hand on his shoulder. He was crying, too, blue eyes vivid.

Kasey smiled and wrapped an arm around him. “And look whose fucking hands you’re in, all right? You’re good as golden.”

There was a heartbeat of silence. No one seemed to know what to say. Leo hugged Kasey, eyes closed and fisting the back of his jersey. Sirius walked forward next, and it seemed to break the spell.

“Don’t tempt me about locking you in here, Bliz,” Thomas said as he strode forward. “I just might do it.”

Kasey laughed as Thomas pulled him into a tight hug. He thumped Kasey on the back. “You going back out with us, right?”

“I want to,” Kasey said. “I think I can.”

“We’ll get this for you,” Sirius said. He put a hand on Kasey’s shoulder. “This is still yours, all of it. No matter what. You know that.”

Kasey looked at Sirius for a long moment. “Cap. Thank you. I don’t think my career would be the same without you.”

Sirius brow drew together and he shook his head. “Non. It’s all you, man.”

His eyes went behind Sirius. “And Dumo…” He pressed his lips together, unable to finish. “I…You’re…”

“Bliz,” Pascal smiled softly. “I’m probably not too far behind you in this case. I know that.”

Remus walked forward and put a hand on Sirius’ back.

“All I can say is that it’s an honor to play with you at our backs,” Pascal said.

Someone let out a whoop, and then they room was sort of clapping, sort of crying, and at least one strand of tension broke.

“I’m feeling a group hug,” Thomas said. “No, Cap, don’t pull that look on me. C’mon. Everyone, get your ass up.”

Remus couldn’t help but laugh, tearful as it was as he let Sirius wrap him up on one side, Thomas on the other. Timmy, Olli, Kota, Leo, Kris, Pascal.

There was a little jostle after a moment as a final person enthusiastically joined.

“Alex,” Pascal said without opening his eyes. “You should absolutely be here, but get your elimination game Ranger blue out of our hug.”

“My bad.”

Finn didn’t like being home alone. He didn’t like that he couldn’t watch the game. He didn’t like saying goodbye to Leo and Logan, knowing they weren’t going to the same place—or even if they were, to different teams. He wanted to be in the room. He wanted to play, he wanted the burn of his muscles. He wanted to press his shoulder up against Logan’s, or Alex’s, he wanted to defend Kasey and fight anything that even touched Leo.

Instead he was sitting on the couch with all the lights off and the shades down, listening to the crackle of the radio broadcast come from his computer with the screen turned away from him. He was waiting for period two to start, not in the tunnel to the ice, but when a a plate of what felt like the first truly solid food he’d eaten in weeks. Logan had given him a big kiss when he’d asked for Leo’s spicy chicken and rice burritos. Leo and hummed away happily in the kitchen making them and served him one with a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Okay, being taken care of wasn’t that hard.

His phone rang and he knew it was his mom without having to check.

“Hi,” he said around a mouthful, flipping the screen down towards the couch.

“Hi, baby. Just checking in. Fast game, huh? You doing okay? Eating dinner?”

“Mhm, I’m good. I mean—you know. As good as I can be. Listening.”

“Aw, sweetheart. I know.” He could hear the buzz of the stadium behind her, picked out Natalie’s laugh. “I know this isn’t how you pictured it at all.”

Finn sat back against the couch. “Yeah. Did you see Al?”

“For a second before the game. And Logan. He said that if we talk to you during the game to say he loves you.”

Finn smiled. “Mm. Good. How’s Leo looking on the bench?”

“Oh, they showed just the cutest shot of him like a little turtle—well, no a very tall turtle, with his mouth and nose in his jersey. But he seems good. Kasey seems good, too. He’s made some incredible saves.”

“They sound incredible,” Finn said. “Got your whiskey?”

She laughed. “Oh, you know it. Oh, baby, we’re starting. Gotta go, but I love you very much all right? Your dad, says so, too.”

“Love ya, bud!” came his dad’s voice from a little farther away.

Finn, honestly, felt a little choked up. He blinked the tears away and looked around the dim room. They would only make his head ache. “Love you guys, too.”

He heard the phone disconnect and rested his head back against the couch, suddenly not so hungry anymore. He wrapped his plate up for later and squinted an eye shut at the bright refrigerator light. He put the kettle on—could nothing be easy while using one hand?—and steeped some mint tea. When he came back to the couch, throwing a blanket over his legs, the commercials were over.

No, let’s be honest, if Kasey Winter hadn’t made those saves in the first—I don’t know where the Lions would be right now. Sitting in their dressing room and making fucking long summer plans, that’s for sure. Instead, this is a close game, a competitive game, and most importantly, both teams are still in the game.

I agree with you, Matt. Let’s go to the bench now, for an interview with Rangers’ Logan Tremblay.

“Oh, hi, baby,” Finn said softly.

Thanks, Matt. This is Cassie Baker here with Logan Tremblay—

Finn sat bolt upright. He knew—He knew that voice. Cassie. God. Cassie fucking Baker.

Logan, how do you think this period is going to shape up based on how aggressive that first period was so far?

“Holy fuck.” Finn couldn’t help but laugh. “Holy fuck?”

To Logan’s credit, he sounded just as shocked, as if he’d simply turned around and found Cassie there waiting for him. Cassie Baker. Finn remembered bouncing blonde curls and that god-damn Greek temple of the girl’s sorority house at school. Logan kissing her neck in the hallway. Harz, can we have the room for a bit? Coming back from a cancelled class and hearing—

Finn put a hand over his mouth and laughed again. “Okay. Oh man.”

I think we are two teams that want this badly, Logan was saying. Oh, he sounded so good. It’s going to be a fight, but hopefully entertaining for the fans.

How does it feel to possibly have the chance to eliminate your old team?

“Oh no,” Finn let himself fall sideways into the couch, right onto his shoulder. “Fuck.”

Logan’s laugh, disbelieving, still surprised, filled the room. Um. Intense.

Thanks for the time.

I—thanks.

Finn sat back up, holding his shoulder. Never had he ever wanted to talk to them more. He wanted to see Logan’s face. He wanted to see Leo with his chin tucked down against his chest. He didn’t want Leo sitting on the bench alone all game, watching the others work.

Zibanejad and Black on the face-off. The Rangers have a majority of these under their belts now, but Black wins in and it’s knocked back to Lupin. Remus Lupin, quite the surprise, the secret weapon, there are Olympic rumors, and Walker brings it right to the net—and scores! Oh, this game finally has some action!

“That makes one of us,” Finn said aloud to the room. He wasn’t sure he usually talked to himself this much. Maybe it was only that he couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d been alone. The hospital room, he guessed, but even that had been for mere minutes, not hours. He tugged the blanket farther up his chest and pressed his nose into his sweatshirt. Leo’s. He held his mug close to his face. The mint. Logan’s.

Dumais to Reyes, oh, in a near miss! It’s pitched out of the zone by Fox and picked up again by Goodrow—

Finn winced as the thought that he didn’t care who won the game filtered into his mind. He just wanted them to come home.

Luke caught onto Logan’s look the second he was sat back on the bench, breathing hard.

“What,” Luke said. “What the fuck’s that look?”

Logan wasn’t sure where to begin. He risked another glance towards the ice tunnel. Cassie was standing there with the cameraman. She looked the same. Her hair was a shiny dark blonde, blue eyes bright, forget-me-not. She carried herself the same. She was talking fast to the cameraman, directing him with her hand that wasn’t holding her microphone. Confident. Easy. She dressed differently. Smart, well-tailored navy suit that made her short frame look taller. Their eyes met, and she sent him another nervous smile.

“Fuck,” Logan said. He flashed a quick one back and turned away.

“What?” Luke asked.

Paul, Rangers PR, had said nothing more than, Tremblay, you’re ESPN’s interview and then Logan had looked up to find…

Hi, Logan. Yeah, probably should’ve warned you a little better… It’s been a while.

Luke punched him in the arm. “Logan.”

“Ex-girlfriend.” Logan swallowed.

“Girlfriend?” Alex asked, perking up. “You, girlfriend?”

“Ouais.”

“Oh my God, show me.”

“The ESPN reporter.” Luke and Alex both whipped their heads around and Logan closed his eyes. “Don’t look.”

Alex ignored him. “The blonde?”

“She’s cute,” Luke said.

“Stop looking.”

“Didn’t she just interview you?” Alex asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you know?”

“Obviously not,” Luke said. “Dude, you look fucking rattled, what did she do to you?”

Logan didn’t really want to think on it now. They had been good. Happy. For months, really. But she hadn’t had all of him, and she’d figured that much out quickly, if not who the rest of his heart was with.

“It’s more… It’s more what I did to her.” Logan shared a glance with Alex. “Or what I felt like I did to her.”

“Huh,” Luke said. “This is transcending bench talk.”

“Ooh,” Alex said. “Big word.”

“Fuck off.” Luke smiled a little, though. “Can you play with your ex-girlfriend watching, Tremzy?”

Logan hit Luke’s helmet with his stick. “Fuck off.”

Alex snorted as he pushed off the bench with Logan when Coach tapped their shoulders. “Are we gonna talk about the Leo Knut tendencies you seem to have always possessed?”

“Big word.” Logan shoved him so hard that he actually fell over, laughing all the way down. That was sure to be on Twitter somewhere later.

And Tremblay shoves O’Hara down. Laughing. Wonder what was so funny.

Finn sighed. “You and me both, bud.”

“Dev!”

Logan caught Luke’s back-pass and found himself trapped in the corner with Pascal, the puck between their two stick blades. Logan laughed a little, thought he heard Pascal do the same, but it was over too quickly to say anything. Logan knocked it out to Luke again who drew his stick right back and slammed it towards the goal. Kasey lunged for it, the odd, acute angle, but it went right under his glove.

“Yeah!” Logan put his hands up with a grin. He tried not to look at Pascal out of the corner of his eye.

He tapped his glove to Luke’s helmet when he skated into the celly, Percy slamming into their other side.

“Fucking finally, eh,” Percy shouted. He bumped his fist against Luke’s chest, then Logan’s. “Killer pass. Gorgeous.”

There was a buzzing in Logan’s ears. The crowd. Faces that were familiar but not from now. It was like someone had put a filter over his life and all the colors were different. His eyes found Leo on the bench. He was watching the replay on the big screen.

With ten minutes left in the second period, it did feel right that they had finally scored. Tied up, one-one. Logan skated to the bench and hauled himself over it, watching Panarin’s line go out.

He squirted water down the back of his neck and hit Luke’s thigh. “Good.”

“Yeah, well.” Luke wiped his visor clean with a towel. “Let’s just try and keep it up and end this round.”

Logan didn’t say anything. There was that feeling again. The one he couldn’t quite admit to himself. It was real once this round was over—or even realer than it was now. He wasn’t a Lion anymore. He was someone who ended the Lions’ season.

Panarin’s shot went wide twice and Trouba shot one over Kasey’s shoulder that got overturned for interference. Kasey stood with his back to the ice while the referees reviewed it. He had his helmet up and his water bottle in hand, but he didn’t drink. Logan knew Alex had gone into the Lions’ room. He knew what Kasey had announced. He wished he had been there. He wished he had known before Alex went so he could come. Kasey might not be on his team anymore, but he was still Kasey. He had wanted to stand next to Leo and hold his hand.

Six minutes left in the second. 1-1.

Logan jumped the boards right as the puck soared into the netting above the glass and the whistle went. Logan headed towards the Lions’ zone, but stopped when no one else did. He looked around.

“What’s up?” asked Will.

“I don’t know,” Logan said, frowning as Coach Arthur held up a T with his hands and Kasey started skating towards the bench. “They’re calling a time out.”

“Come on,” Finn said aloud to the dark room. “Come on.”

The more time went by, the more superstitious he seemed to get. He kept switching up his position on the couch. He’d even taken the computer into the kitchen while he finished his dinner, hoping they might have more luck if he was in a different room. He was putting his plate in the dishwasher when—

And looks like Leo Knut is taking Kasey Winter’s place in goal for the second game in a row.

Finn turned. “Le.”

Why the sudden switch, we’ll have to wait and see but one could only guess that it has something to do with Kasey Winter’s injury struggles this season. Well, recent seasons, I should say. I gotta feel for the guy, he’s one hell of a goalie.

Finn shut the dishwasher with a beep and cursed. As the final minutes of the second period wound down, he tried to picture Leo there. Wary of Logan. Trying to forget that it was Logan. Just number 71.

Tremblay with a high shot. Finn closed his eyes. —Goes wide of Knut. Kakko picks it up.

Finn listened to the third leaning against the kitchen island with his fingers against his lips. Waiting to hear Logan’s name, or Leo’s. LoganLeoLoganLeo, forced to go against each other.

Instead, it felt like all he heard was Remus’.

Lupin has had ten shots on goal alone in these last two periods. None of them have gone in mind you, but that fact is impressive and—oh that’s from Walker straight to Lupin’s tape and carrying, carrying, back to Walker, no look—and he scores! Remus Lupin with a five-hole on a beauty of a no looker from Thomas Walker! He brings it up to 2-1 Lions.

“Yeah!” Finn shouted, rising to his feet. “Fuck yes!”

He wanted to turn on the TV. He wanted to see. He wanted to watch them celebrate, he wanted to skate across the ice and hug Remus because he would have been on the line. He would have. He could have helped.

“Fucking sling,” Finn whispered, tugging at the elastic strap. Most of tea had long gone cold, and he wanted a popsicle to suck on and dull out the ache in his head a little. Or, really, he wanted to close his eyes and go to sleep but he couldn’t do that. Not before the game was through. It was only 9:30 for fuck sake. Though he did find himself wishing that it wouldn’t go to any OT periods. If he stayed standing he’d stay awake.

He paced to the window as the puck battled between zones. Logan was feisty tonight. He’d come close to blows with Kota twice it sounded like. The Rangers went up on a power play when Kota tripped Logan and Finn nearly cheered before remembering that it was the Rangers. Finn walked around the couch as the whistle blew for another Rangers icing. Whoever kept dumping was only doing the Lions a favor.

“C’mon,” Finn mumbled. “I’m tired and I miss you, c’mon.”

Logan on power play one. Logan, Alex. Back to Logan. Finn was too tense, he really wasn’t supposed to be this tense, he was supposed to be firmly relaxing. But Leo. God, Logan and Alex in front of Leo’s net, glove save against Alex, Logan’s shot going wide. Logan was pulling back, Finn could feel it. He was trying, trying, and then seeing Leo. And he was going to get so much shit for it. Finn sat down, rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He should have been praying for a win, but he was praying for this game to be over.

O’Hara to Tremblay, back to O’Hara—and he scores!

“Yeah!” Finn said then cursed. “I mean, no.” He groaned. He had to stop doing that. “Fuck.”

Alex O’Hara with a very clean tip-in off of an assist from Tremblay, Knut didn’t have a chance. 2-2 now this is a tight game and the scoring has picked up tremendously. The puck drops Jesus Christ, Lupin again! Christ almighty! Lupin again! Right off the face-off! 3-2 Lions!

“Loops!” Finn stood and laughed through the word. They were ahead now. God, the announcer was rambling, the pile up on the ice must be insane, celebrating. There was a short enough amount of time that this could be it, it could be, especially with the crowd the way it was, God, Finn could hear it, he could see it, even if he couldn’t. The pounding of hands on the glass and his teammates shouting right beside him. The way Thomas and Evgeni jumped up and down, making the bench rattle.

There was three minutes to go. They were ahead, and Logan was trying. God, Finn could feel him. The way he moved, the way he breathed. He’d spent his entire career watching him, waiting for him, tracking him even when he couldn’t see him. Catch a pass, catch a mistake. Finish a goal, pretty or dirty. Alex was trying his best but twice they’d gotten their pocket picked by Sirius and it made Finn hide a smile. No one could play with Logan as well as him.

It didn’t stop him from scoring though. Of course it didn’t.

That is one slick wrap-around by Tremblay.

Finn closed his eyes. He wanted that highlight. He wanted it bad.

Knut didn’t look like he even knew where the puck was.

Finn put his head in his hands. He could hear the celebration. “Le. Aw, baby, it’s okay, it’s okay…”

The Rangers even it up again with forty-six seconds on the clock. Oh, the Lions don’t like that. Arthur Weasley doesn’t like that, but he’s used his timeout. Gryffindor will have to figure something out.

“Come on,” Finn whispered. “Come on, boys…”

It was a blur of phrases and images playing behind his closed eyes.

God, impossible save by Knut! He’s gonna get famous for that poke-check of his, we saw it last play-offs, and look’s like we’ll be seeing more of it—

Finn wanted to be there to scoop the puck up from Leo’s waiting stick, clear of the blue paint. He wanted to feel Leo at his back, defending him, letting him risk a more risky pass.

The clock had to be dangerously low now and Finn’s head ached with how he was squeezing his eyes shut, but he couldn’t help it. He was so tired.

Knocked away by Knut, hard shot by Trouba—

“Good.” Finn whispered, thumb nail between his teeth. “Good, Le…”

What a take away by Black and he’s going—Lupin catches up with him and it’s two on one, Black and Lupin against Luke Deveaux—Black sends it over to Lupin, Lupin back to Black, and a third time—GOAL! Goal! Goal!

Finn shouted. There weren’t any words in it, but a sheer sound of relief and joy.

Lupin with the hat trick! Hat trick! With twelve seconds on the clock! Twelve seconds! Three goals all scored within—Jesus, how long?—that’s insane, that is just magnificent, insane—

Remus heard the crowd. Deep, collective—for a split second, he thought they were booing. But then he pieced it together, right as Sirius slammed into his chest and shouted right in his ear. Not boos.

Loops.

My God, Remus Lupin is on fire tonight. God, what a shot! What a shot, this place is going wild. This place is on its feet because the Lions are going to a game seven. I repeat, the Gryffindor Lions are taking the New York Rangers to a game seven—

Long, drawn out, Loops and then reorganizing into a chant, and then dissolving into cheers. Hats showered them. Completely, it felt like. Raining, pouring, drenching the ice in hats. So many Remus wondered how all of them made it to the ice. He couldn’t stop laughing. He thought maybe he was crying a little.

“Game winner!” Thomas was shouting. “Game fucking winner, fucking winner, fucking natty hatty, oh fuck, Remus!”

“Jesus, what’s in your water, Lupin!” Percy Marshall shouted from near Saint’s goal.

He just looked up at Sirius. Sirius laughed and then ducked down and kissed Remus’ cheek—or tried, but it was really just their visors knocking together. “I love you. I love you, love you, I love you so much—”

“Julian,” Remus said. “You think Jules saw?”

Sirius just pressed their visors together, while Thomas all but crowed to the sky. “Yeah, baby, Jules saw.”

Remus looked up towards the Lions box as he skated towards the bench, as he skated down the line tapping gloves. He couldn’t see much, but he would have been able to pick out that wildly jumping figure any place, any time.

Logan went looking for Cassie. He wouldn’t deny it. He smoothed his wet hair back from his face and tugged at his tie. He smiled shakily at a few members of the press who passed him on their way to the pressroom to write their stories. Post-game interviews had been rough. You guys could have had it, what will you do differently to pull through next game?

It was a fairly normal question. Definitely expected. The hard part, Logan guessed, was answering it truthfully—even to himself. Pulling through meant taking the Lions out, and Logan couldn’t think about that too hard.

But even worse: You seemed to have…bad puck luck when Knut came into goal. What do you think happened?

Logan could have punched the guy who asked that. He’d stared at him hard enough to make him take a step back anyway.

“Tremzy!”

Logan turned fast. Katie, flying towards him full-force, in Rangers blue with TREMBLAY on her back. Pascal had sent him the video—Katie bawling her eyes out and refusing to move until the removed her father’s jersey and gave her a Tremblay one.

Pascal wasn’t too far behind her and grinned as Logan caught Katie up in his arms.

“Salut, Petit. Oh, what are you wearing?” Logan propped her on his hip and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Is that all for me?”

She patted his tie. “You didn’t win. Papa won.”

“C’est une tragédie, apparently,” Pascal said. “We cannot go home until she finds you, you know.”

“Non, me neither.” Logan smiled at him and tilted his and Katie’s heads together. He switched to French. “I need my little cabbage fix before dinner…”

Katie shrieked out a laugh, knowing what was coming, and Logan dipped her upside down to kiss her cheek with nom noises before bringing her upright again.

“Didn’t you like the Lions hat trick? All the hats on the ice.”

Katie shook her head, brandishing the wrist with her charm bracelet at him like a sword. “Non. I like when you get goals.”

“Ouch,” Pascal said wryly.

Katie put a hand on top of Logan’s head. “Is Harzy okay?”

“Ouais,” Logan said. “He’s doing much better. He misses you.”

“Where’s Leo?”

“I’m going to find him right now.”

She squished Logan’s cheeks between her small palms. “Does he have banana bread?”

“Not with him, I don’t think.”

Katie frowned. “Oh.” Then, she promptly squeezed her arms around his neck and put her head on his shoulder. “I love you.”

“Aw,” Logan said. “I love you, too.”

Pascal mouthed, she’s going to fall asleep, and Logan nodded, half-sure that she already was. He put a hand on her back. She was so warm, so delicate in his arms. He used to be afraid of that, holding onto her too hard. “Past your bedtime, hm?”

They stood silently in the hallway together for a moment. Logan thought of the warm living room at the Dumais house. The boys muting their video game on the TV. Katie sleeping against his chest. Noelle passing him embroidery floss colors to pick out so she could make him a bracelet.

“I don’t think I’ll get used to seeing you in blue,” Pascal said softly, stroking back Katie’s hair, then, after a moment of hesitation, mussing Logan’s gently.

“Me neither,” Logan replied roughly. God, how many homes could one person be homesick for at once?

“No matter what happens next game,” Pascal said. “We love you. You know that, right?”

“Ouais.”

“You won’t beat yourself up.”

“Non.” He sighed. “Well, not too bad. I’m worried about Leo.” He sighed. He had to tell someone. “It’s been hard. This, Finn, Kasey…”

“Archer,” Pascal finished hesitantly.

“Logan?” said a voice.

Logan looked to see Cassie at the other end of the hallway. She gave him a small wave, looking uncertain as to whether she should approach or not.

“Ah,” Pascal said. “I thought you knew her.”

“Quoi.” He smiled back at her, held up a finger. One second.

“You looked, ah, how did Sirius put it…Freaked.”

“I’m not.”

“Here,” Pascal said, reaching out for Katie.

“Wait, wait, wait—” Logan began to say, but Pascal just arched a brow.

“You do not need to hold my daughter for every tough conversation you have.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but eased the sleepy Katie into her father’s arms.

“Go talk to a girl. That can’t be too difficult for you.”

“Dumo.”

Pascal just smiled. “Oh, and guess what?”

Logan sighed. His arms felt cold and too light without Katie in them. “What?”

“Leo is going to be okay. You three are going to be fine.”

Pascal touched Logan’s cheek briefly, then turned away, murmuring softly to Katie.

“Remus!”

Remus dropped everything he was holding—his glove, a roll of tape, a tennis ball, and his mouth guard—to turn around and get a stumble-inducing hug by his little brother.

“Did you get any of the hats!” Julian asked. “Oh my God!”

“I think they’re in a bunch of buckets somewhere,” Remus said, and held on tighter even when Jules made to pull back. “No, one more second.”

“I have to see Sirius, too!”

“He didn’t get a hat trick.” Remus squeezed Julian until he gasped for air.

“Death by hug,” Julian coughed out, but he squeezed Remus just as tightly back. “It was so cool, Re.”

“Thanks. It felt pretty cool.” He put his hands on Julian’s shoulders and pulled back. “I can get you a hat if you want a hat. Can’t promise to know whose head it was on, though.”

Julian laughed. “I don’t need a hat.” Remus still sort of wanted to get him a hat. He wanted to get Julian anything he could ever possibly want.

Julian shook Remus lightly by his shoulder pads. “Game seven! Did you always think you were going to go to a game seven!”

Remus shrugged, patting his stall for Julian to sit in. “I don’t know if Captain Superstitious over here would have allowed such a thought to cross my mind.”

“Wow,” Sirius said, stripping off his chest pads and grabbing his towel for a shower. “You make me sound insane.”

Julian and Remus shared a look.

“You might be a little.” Julian pinched his fingers. “Tiny bit insane.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, but tussled Julian’s hair before walking away.

“Hey.” Remus nudged his his foot against Julian’s shin. “You okay here for a second if I shower so we can all get some ice cream before it’s after midnight?”

Julian’s eyes lit up—either at the mention of ice cream or at the prospect of being left to his own devices in the locker room.

“Oh, I’ve got him,” Thomas said. He was wearing his suit pants and shrugging on a white button down. “Noelle chose to go see the Rangers so I, too, am abandoned.”

“Oh my God,” Jackson said from beside him. “She said she’d be back in two minutes after seeing her loser brother.”

“Watch it,” Leo called, passing by.

“Two whole minutes.” Thomas tisked. “Nado, I don’t know what to do with myself without that girl around anymore. Copy?”

“Good luck,” Remus said to Julian, and stripped off his own padding to head to the showers.

James was singing—horribly—but Sirius had secured them the two corner showers. Remus’ favorite. The hot water felt good, but Sirius’ gaze on him felt better. Remus smiled as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to wash his hair.

“I can feel you thinking,” Remus said.

“If we were alone, you could feel—”

“Oh I’m sure.”

“Well, I was thinking about taking you into another private corner but your little brother was looking at me.”

Remus reached for the shampoo. “This is true.” He looked over his shoulder. “I don’t see him anywhere now.”

Sirius sent a pointed look at James and the few other of their teammates showering around them.

“What?” Remus said with a grin. “I just want a kiss.”

Sirius watched him for a moment, and Remus let himself admire the way the water made his dark hair and eyelashes ever darker. The way the droplets made his tan skin shine. Finally, Sirius went so far as to settle a hand on Remus’ bare, wet hip, and kissed his cheek.

“I love you,” Sirius whispered against Remus’ skin.

“I love you, too.”

“The noodles!” Evgeni shouted, ducking beneath a shower head across the room.

“He means canoodle,” Jackson said.

Sirius ignored them. “I want to re-watch that game.”

“Is that all?”

“No. It’ll never be all with you. I’ll always want you more.” Another soft kiss to his temple. “And more, and more.”

“You fucker,” Alex said into his phone, wedged between his shoulder and ear as he tied his dress shoes.

“Ha-ha,” Finn replied. “It was all me.”

“Oh, we’ll get your boys next game.” Alex said.

“Will you now?” Finn said. “You sure about that?”

“Pretty damn sure, I’d say. Lupin can’t be that hot every night.”

“Ha, but Sirius Black can.”

“Bleh.” Alex straighten with a sigh. “I hate how true that is.”

“Hey, Al?”

Alex took his phone, switching ears. “Yup?”

There was a bit of a pause, long enough that Alex looked at the screen to make sure that Finn was still there. It made him nearly miss his first couple words.

“If you can,” Finn’s voice said. “Try not to let Lo take any winning shots against Leo.”

Alex’s smile dimmed. His eyes moved over to Kasey, who was leaning against the wall through the locker room doorway with Natalie, waiting for him. She said something with a smile and he nodded in his soft way, playing with the diamond ring on her finger.

“It’ll hurt them both, I think,” Finn finished softly. “Maybe ask Deveaux, too. If you can.”

“I don’t know if I can help that, Finn,” Alex said.

“I know.” Finn’s sigh crackled like wind. “I know. Yeah, I know.”

“Hey,” Alex said. “But I love you, little Fish.”

There was a beat of silence. “All right, I’ll let that slide just this once.”

Alex smiled.

“Love you, too.”

“Hi,” Cassie said.

Logan’s words got stuck for a second.

She had taken her suit jacket off and her white shirt underneath was crisp and clean. Logan remembered her in low tank-tops and knee-high boots. His Harvard sweatshirts and tiny cotton shorts, stretching in his bed and going to his window to check if it was raining. Yes, he had loved Finn for most of their time together, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t appreciated Cassie. She was kind and fun and, God, had she ever taught him what he liked. She had been a little wild like that. He had a flash of a steamed up car window, her uneven breathing against his cheek, her hand fisting the hair at the back of his neck.

“I…hi.”

She smiled, then shrugged and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hi.”

He laughed. “Hi.” She felt the same and he automatically squeezed her waist like he used to. “I—sorry about—I mean on the bench.” They pulled apart. “I was—I wasn’t expecting—”

“No, that’s so on me, I didn’t give you, like, any warning. This is kind of a new promotion for me. I mean, not kind of.” She rolled her eyes, laughing. “It is.”

“Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

“Well—wow, I have to tell Finn.”

“Oh, Finn. I always adored him.”

“He’s good. Uh and, oh, Will and Percy are here, did you…”

“Saw them on the bench, but haven’t gotten to say hi yet.” She tilted her head, teasing. “Didn’t think I was just waiting for you, did you?”

Logan laughed. “Uh, non, definitely not.”

“But it is really good to see you. Really, really good. Seriously, though, is Finn doing okay? That was really hard footage to watch.”

Try being there. “Yeah. He’s—he’s better. He’s getting better. He might be at the next game in New York, if he gets cleared. Not dressed, but, still. Not having to sit in the dark.”

“Right.” Cassie nodded sympathetically. “God, that happened to him in college, didn’t it?”

Twice. Logan nodded. He didn’t expect her to remember. They’d been broken up by the second.

“Well, then I hope I get to say hi.”

Logan wasn’t sure how to talk about Finn with Cassie. She’d broken up with him over Finn, even though she hadn’t known it was Finn at the time. She’d thought it was another girl, just someone else taking up Logan’s attention. By the conflicted look on her face, it looked like she knew now.

“Um.” Cassie tucked her hair behind her ears then crossed her arms. “Listen. This is probably not the time and definitely not the place but I’m not sure—I kind of just have to say this if you don’t mind.” She glanced down the hallway, but they were alone. “I think I was kind of…I know I was hard on you when we broke up…”

Logan shook his head. He swallowed, trying to force the words out quickly. “Non. Non, I don’t think you were hard on me. If anyone was hard on someone, it was me on you. I mean…now you know that…that Finn and I?”

“Were you together then?” she asked, then her eyes widened. “God. No. Jesus, you don’t have to tell me that. That was so rude, wow. I’m sorry.” She laughed a little. “We don’t see each other for years and—”

“We weren’t,” Logan said, but then it was his turn to laugh a bit. “Well—Merde. I mean. We were… We loved each other then. But we…” How to even say it? “We thought we couldn’t.” No, that wasn’t it. “I thought we couldn’t.”

“You seriously don’t owe me an explanation,” Cassie said. “Logan, I was trying to apologize. The second I heard about you and Finn—I mean, I think I just saw a photo of you two on Twitter or something, or Instagram?—but I remembered our fight like it was yesterday and…”

“You thought I was cheating on you. And in a lot of ways you were right. You had ever right to be mad at me.”

“I…I know that now. But I loved you, and I shouldn’t have said all those horrible things.” She let out a breath. “I didn’t mean them. It’s just that I really, really loved you.”

Logan wouldn’t have said any of his heart still belonged to Cassie, but right then it felt like part of it might, in some way. It broke all over again for the two of them. For the quiet mornings and for looking up into the bleachers at games and seeing her there, wearing his sweater. For all the times she’d gone quiet and let him think about what he wanted to say, when she was always so bright and sudden for everyone else.

“Anyway,” she sighed. “I just didn’t know when I would see you again and, you know, knock on wood you’ll be too busy celebrating next game, and I wanted to say that I’m sorry. And that I’m happy for you. You and Finn.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Logan said. “I didn’t deserve you. I was trying to figure me out and…and I feel like I used you but, for the record, I did love you, too. Maybe not like you loved me, but.”

Cassie smiled. “Yeah?”

Logan smiled back. “Ouais.”

“Oh.” Cassie shook her head fondly. “God, I missed your French.”

Logan was laughing when he heard Leo’s voice from behind him.

“Lo?”

Logan turned and found him standing there, handsome in his navy suit. He looked between them hesitantly.

“Le,” Logan held out a hand to him. “Soleil, this is Cassie. Cas, this is my boyfriend, Leo.”

Cassie smiled, then looked alarmed, then smiled again. “Uh. Wait. Um. I mean, hi.”

“There’s two of them,” Logan said and took Leo’s hand. “Finn. Leo.”

“Two?”

“Two.”

Cassie looked between them for a moment, then shrugged. “Jesus, I can’t even find one. You were so great in the third, Leo, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh,” Leo said, a little dazed. Logan tried not to watch too closely as Leo looked Cassie up and down. “Well, thanks, pleasure to meet you. How do you two…”

Logan squeezed Leo’s fingers. “Cas and I were at school together—we…well, we…”

“Dated,” Cassie finished for him with a grin. “For a little while. But then again, I never got called the sun by this one so who’s counting it really.”

Leo looked down at Logan and Logan was so proud of the happy look in those blue eyes he could have kissed him. “No?”

“Nope,” Cassie said. “But I can see why you do.”

“Casss-ieee,” came Percy’s voice from behind them, and then the thump of him running down the hall. He didn’t even hesitate, not even when it had been years, before scooping her up in a hug. She shrieked, but let him spin her once and press a kiss to her cheek.

“Oh my God, will you not ever grow up Percy Marshall?”

Percy just grinned at her. His suit was wrinkled, as usual, and he towered over her, but he looked down at her smile like he was looking up to the blue sky. “Not a chance, Cassie Baker. Not with you to impress.”

“It’s been too long since I’ve been subjected to your flirting.”

“Well.” Percy released her and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Who knows. Maybe I really mean it this time.”

Logan felt Leo nudged him, hip against hip, and Logan leaned his head against his shoulder.

“Home?” Leo whispered.

“Ouais.”

Logan thwacked Percy upside the head as they passed by. “See you next game, Cas?”

“Count on it,” Cassie called, and when she wasn’t looking, Percy mouthed Cassie fucking Baker to him over her shoulder with a lovesick expression on his face.

“So, you dated her,” Leo said. He was trying very hard not to smile.

“Oasis,” Logan said. “But…” He reached up as they walked and traced a blond wave of Leo’s hair, then the gray streak. “I was obviously looking for you.”

“You know Hannah looks just like you, right?”

“What? Non.”

Leo laughed. “Logan Tremblay. Look alive, hot stuff—oh.” Leo’s phone pinged. “Gee, wonder who that could be.”

Please come home I talking to myself (sent with Siri)

Also the doctor is emailed I clear for traveled with to you so New York! Sirius send happy emoji no smile emoji no send smile (sent with Siri)

Leo snorted, Logan let out a loud laugh, then they had to take a minute, leaning against each other with silent laughter.

“What’s wrong with you two?” Remus asked as he passed by with Sirius and Julian.

“Sirius,” Logan gasped. “Send smile emoji.”

Leo crouched, hiding his face against Logan’s hip as his shoulders shook.

Sirius just shook his head and tugged on Remus’ hand. “You need to go home.”

“Send smile emoji!” Logan shouted after him.

Sirius just looked back at him. “What the fuck, Tremz.”

“I’ve got him,” Leo laughed, wrapping an arm around Logan’s shoulder. “C’mon, Harz is talking to himself, we better go save him.”

“He always talks to himself.”

“I don’t think he knows that.”

Leo just hummed in agreement. “She seemed nice.”

“She is,” Logan said.

“This is the girl you mean when you say college girlfriend, right?”

“Mhm,” Logan nodded, and took Leo’s hand again as they walked into the stairwell that led to the parking lot. It smelled like summer. Heat and humidity. Leo stripped off his suit jacket to drive and threw it in the back seat with their bags.

When they were turning the engine on, Logan put a hand over Leo’s. “Le.”

Leo looked up from adjusting his mirrors.

Logan took a breath. He wasn’t sure he actually wanted to talk it all through, but maybe it would get easier. Maybe. And he at least had the short drive home to start. “Want me to tell you about it?” Logan asked softly. “Cassie.”

Leo’s lips parted, surprised. His hair was darker, the ends starting to dry from his own shower. He had taken his tie off, too, and his shirt was open at the neck. Logan reached out and touched the indent of the fleur-de-lis necklace beneath his shirt. It had been passed back and forth between them— Finn had been wearing it for a few days there when he was mostly just sleeping and in pain, but Logan supposed at some point, Finn had slipped it over Leo’s neck again.

“Yeah,” Leo said softly. “I’d like that.”

Logan leaned back in his seat as Leo pulled out of their spot. “I met her my very first night as a Freshman. I didn’t know what I was doing, I didn’t even have bed sheets. I had met Fish, là, twenty minutes maybe before. I scared the hell out of him in our room. But you know that, anyway, Cassie saved me from sitting by myself all night…”

#vaincre lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #sports au #wolfstar au #o'knutzy #lumosinlove #finn o'hara #Logan tremblay #sirius black #Leo knut #remus lupin #go lions go

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angelltheninth · 5 months

Text

NSFW Masterlist Part 7

DC COMICS

Friends with Benefits with Hal Jordan

Jason Todd Gets Jealous and Fucks You in an Alleyway

Conner Kent x Fem!Reader - Principle of the Thing

Clark Kent x Fem!Reader - A Needed Confidence Boost

Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader - Hold the Popcorn

Friends with Benefits with Bruce Wayne

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader - Those Who Meet in the Shadows

MCU

Matt Murdock Gets Dirty in a Church

Logan Howlett when You're a Bimbo and Cockdrunk

King Valkirie - If All of the Kings Had Their Queens on the Throne

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader - Negotiation Tactic

MCU Characters Being Caught Masturbating

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader - Please, Say Please

ARCANE

Viktor, Jayce, Ekko and Silco Get a Boner in Public

Arcane Women with a Packer

Sub!Amab!Sevika + Cock Riding

Viktor x Fem!Reader - Lesson Learned

Arcane Men + Passionate, Sensual, Intense or Rough

Arcane Women with a Camgirl Reader

CHAINSAW MAN

Chainsaw Man Quartet Goes Feral on You

Chainsaw Man Quartet Eating You Out

Chainsaw Man Quartet Playing with You Under the Table

Aki Hayakawa Being Your Sex Summer Tutor

BLUE LOCK

Fuckboy Reo Hooks Up with You

Chigiri, Kunigami and Reo Reacting to Your New Swimsuit

Bondege with Mikage Reo

Bachira Denying You Pleasure

Using the Safe Word with Isagi, Kunigami, Kaiser and Shidou

Dry Humping with Rin, Kaiser, Karasu and Nagi

Blue Lock + Threesomes

GENSHIN IMPACT

Al-Haitham Fucking You While Kaveh is in the House

Genshin Men Get A Boner in Public

Childe x Fem!Reader - A Bet and a Prize

Genshin Men when You Confess in the Middle of Sex

Bath Sex with Thoma and Ayato

Things Genshin Men Enjoy in Bed

Genshin Men Doing You Better Then Your Ex

Forced Proximity with Genshin Men

Poly Relationship with Thoma and Ayato

Zhongli x Fem!Reader - The Morax Punishment

Make Up Sex with Genshin Men

Kaeya x Fem!Reader - How Long Can You Go

Interrupted Masturbation with Childe

Genshin Men Fucking You So Hard You Can't Walk

Hate Sex with Genshin Men

Faking an Orgasm with Genshin Men

Scaramouche and Pantalone as Vampires

Diluc x Fem!Reader - Unhelpful Help

STAR WARS

Wrecker x Afab!Reader - Getting Wreckered

Trapped in a Small Space with Din Djarin

Darth Maul x Fem!Reader - Clamming the Throne

The Bad Batch + Soft Sex

AVATAR

Jake Sully x Fem!Reader - Tails, Growls and Arousal

Tonowari Facesitting Headcanons

Avatar Men Getting Praised During Sex

Avatar Men and Their Weak Spots

Friends with Benefits with Avatar Men

Jake Sully x Fem!Reader - Newbie Mating Cycle

TWISTED WONERLAND

Trey and Cater Using a Vibrator on You

Deuce Spade x Fem!Reader - Vows on Devoted Lips

Floyd Leech x Fem!Reader - You'll Remember You Belong to Me

Twisted Wonderland Dorm Leaders + Clothing That Turns Them On

STRANGER THINGS

Eddie Making You Clean Him Up After Sex

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader - High and Horny

Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader - The Child Support Charade

Stranger Things Men + Where They Like to Cum on Your Body

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader - Gatekeeper to My Heart

KIMETSU NO YAIBA

Being Douma's Pretty New Maid

Karaku Giving You Oral

Fingerwarming with Tengen Uzui

BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

Bakugo Grinding Against You Behind the Gym

Bakugo + Bimbofication

BNHA Men Having Sex For the First Time

Husband!Shoto Gets a Blowjob From His Shy Wife

Stalkers Izuku and Dabi Finally Get what They Wanted

Tomura Shirigaki x Fem!Reader - Where Pleasure Hides

JUJUTSU KAISEN

Enemies to Lovers with Toji Fushiguro

Gojo x Fem!Reader x Geto - Threeway Fun Between Friends

Sukuna x Fem!Reader - Double Duty for the Demon King

Jujutsu Kaisen Men When You're So Full Their Cum Spills Out

Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader - Stop the Clock

Toji Fushiguro Being Your Pervy Neighbor

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader - Better Than Shower Thoughts

Geto Suguru + Sex Pollen

TRIGUN

NSFW Headcanons with Vash and Nicholas

Praise and Mirror Sex with Vash

Service Top Vash

Vash, Nicholas and Millions Knives + Cum Shot

NSFW Headcanons with Millions Knives

Vash Being a Sloppy Eater

Vash, Nicholas and Millions Knives + Sex Pollen

Being Vash's First Time

CALL OF DUTY

Virginity Loss Blurb with Simon

Task Force 141 + Spots That Turn Them On

Cleaning Up with Simon

Simon "Ghost" Riley + Touch Me and You Lose

Simon and König Want to Go All Night With You

A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE

Virginity Loss with Daemon, Aemond and Harwin

Silent Blowjobs with Daemon, Aemond and Harwin

Messy Affair with Harwin Strong

#dc comics x reader #mcu x reader #arcane x reader #chainsaw man x reader #blue lock x reader #genshin impact x reader #avatar x reader #twst x reader #stranger things x reader #kny x reader #bnha x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #trigun x reader #call of duty x reader #a song of ice and fire x reader

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moving-accounts2112 · 6 months

Text

Liebling | Kurt Wagner x Mutant Fem!Reader

Y/N was sitting on her bed, tired after a long day. She listened to the rain smack against the roof and windows and put on some light music to relax. It wasn't long before she heard a strange poof noise, and the smell of sulfur filled her nose. She felt a tail brush by her leg, and an arm put around her torso, squeezing slightly.

"Hi, Kurt.", she muttered to the fuzzy blue elf next to her. "Hi.", he said back. "You look tired.", he said while nuzzling his face into her shoulder. "I am tired. Kicking arse all day does that to you.", she responded. "And by kicking arse I presume you mean getting yours kicked by Logan in the training room?", he said in a teasing tone. "Oh shut it, elf boy.", Y/N said with a chuckle. "Ouch.", he teased yet again. "Your words pain me.". She rolled her eyes, saying "Yeah, yeah. Let's just snuggle.". She felt the weight of the bed shift as Kurt put his arms around her. "Mph... I'm tired too. Should we just go to bed?", he muttered into her shoulder.

"Well, now I'm not tired.", she said, holding back a laugh. "Seriously?!", Kurt angrily said, failing at holding back his laughter. "Now that I'm tired, you're not?", he said with a glare. "Sorry!", Y/N said as she got up from the bed. "Awh, wait! Don't leave.", he responded, still holding her hand. She giggled, saying "You're so clingy! Eh, fine.". She sat back down only to be yet again, attacked by snuggles. "What happened to you?", she asked. Kurt simply shrugged, responding "The usual. Being threatened for buying food, hiding.".

She looked up at him sadly, nuzzling his chest, saying "I hope everyone else soon learns we're not dangerous. Stuff like that, and whenever there are more massacres, whether by mutants or non-mutants, it just makes me wanna hold you, and never let you go.". Kurt pets her head lovingly, responding in a low purr, "Don't worry, Liebling. I'm not going anywhere.". "I hope not.", Y/N responded while burying her face into his chest. "Mmph, wanna go get some food?". He nodded, tail wagging as he waltzed off with her.

#kurt wagner #nightcrawler x men #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner x reader #fluff fanfiction

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disneyprincemuke · 8 days

Text

build me up * ls2

two hit men, one target: each other. the problem? you're soulmates.

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!reader

trope: soulmates destined to kill each other

wc: 1.2k

(f1 masterlist) | (falling in reverse)

logan’s not a murderer per se. well, he kinda is. but with a purpose; he’s not just going around killing people for no reason.

there’s always a reason.

but when he’d been assigned to take down an assassin of some sort, he almost hesitated. because it was you and well, the bias is very simply explainable: you’re very beautiful.

he’s a hitman — not a robot. he can still find people attractive.

he’d been contracted to take out the person sneaking up on the big people he’s working for. naturally, they’d want you taken out.

he’s followed you around for a couple of hours now, trying to find a perfect time to lunge at you and make it quick. there wouldn’t be much to admire seeing when the world is still very much monochrome in his eyes.

he wondered, watching you devour your dinner just an hour ago, if there was somebody that would mourn your death. not in a psychopathic manner, just in a sense that he’s also all alone.

ever since he’d taken the genius career path to be a hitman of some sorts, it’d been easier to be by himself. nobody to look after, and nobody in danger from the things he’s gotten himself into.

his want to eventually meet his soulmate and see the world in colour would have to wait. it might even need to be scratched off from his list completely.

when he comes home to an empty apartment, nobody in it but his dog happily wagging its tail up at him, he gets the urge to drop everything to pursue the life he wanted. a nice home somewhere discreet with his soulmate and maybe kids.

his picture perfect future gets the best of him sometimes. he’s got his letter of resignation collecting dust in the bottom of his email drafts but whenever he comes close to hitting send, there’s hesitation.

because what if he doesn’t actually ever find his soulmate? does that mean that he would have to go about life in black and white all by himself?

so logan doesn’t ever send the email out. he will just have to eventually find the time to deal with the inevitable loneliness looming over him.

it’s not an easy lifestyle: trying to be a hitman for a big corporation and desire for normalcy.

logan follows behind you, slowly and quite a distance, into an alleyway. he keeps a hand against the cold material of the gun stowed away underneath his jacket — for comfort — and to finish you off fast.

your sigh echoes in the empty alleyway as your footsteps come to a slow halt. you kick the ground slightly and drop your head, starting to dig for something in your bag.

and that’s his cue.

but just as he launches to get you, he finds himself frozen when he hears a click. there’s a barrel of a gun pointed right at him with your back still turned to him.

instinctively, he draws his gun out, pointed right back at you. and he finds himself in a situation.

“do you think i’m stupid?” you mutter with sarcasm. “i know when i’m being followed.”

you whirl around and logan almost drops to his knees. he finds the boring black and white motif that he once thought he would never get rid of, slowly fading away. he can decipher the warm glow of the orange lights in the alleyway and the colour of your skin and the colour of your hair.

you don’t mask your shock very well. you flinch and your hand falters when the bright green of logan’s eyes greet you when you turned and locked eyes with him.

your gaze softens as you try to figure out what’s happening. only then it hits you that this man who has a gun pointed right at you is your soulmate.

you steady your arm immediately and tighten your grip on the gun. “i noticed you the minute i stepped out of the restaurant,” you say lowly, “why are you following me?”

logan lifts both of his hands in surrender, his gun pointed into the air. “are you just going to ignore what happened?”

the colour of your eyes mesmerises logan. to hell with his task, there’s a more pressing matter: he can see colours.

colours that seemed like a mere myth, growing up with parents who would describe it to him all the time with the biggest smiles. he wonders now if his eyes are as beautiful as his mother would tell him when he was growing up.

if he cared to ask you, you would say they’re the best thing to be greeted with. but that’s not important.

just like every other kid, growing up, he always thought what it would be like to meet his soulmate and watch the world transition to something he’s only ever heard his friends talk about growing up.

it wasn’t until the reality of losing a soulmate struck him when he was 19, when he lost his mother. and eventually watched his father grieve, and then lost him too.

and friends of friends bear stories of losing their soulmates, describing it as the most devastating feeling. he decided at 20 that he wouldn’t be on the receiving end of that pain.

so logan distracted himself training at some shooting range down the street. some burly man liked what he saw and recruited him.

and now here he is.

“i’m not fucking around with you.” you keep your guard up walking towards him and logan doesn’t move another inch. “i know you’re not here to mug me, so what gives?”

logan’s eyes trail down to the gun barrel now pressed against his chest. he lifts his eyes with a small smile. “would it help if i said i think you’re pretty?”

you dig the barrel into his chest. logan stumbles a step back. “i will kill you without thinking twice.”

“okay!” logan whines. “i was… i’m being paid to kill you.” he watches the annoyance on your face grow. “but please, acknowledge what just happened.”

you look up at him, trying to figure out if he’d just make an attempt for your life either way. you snap your head at the item still in his hand and he follows your stare. “i’ll unarm it,” he offers. “please, let’s just talk.”

“one wrong move, i’ll shoot you in the leg,” you threaten, gesturing your head towards the ground.

you weren’t shy of falling victim to great love stories of meeting your soulmate. you watched your best friend and her soulmate tear each other to the brink of insanity trying to make it work, evidently throwing in your face how it’s all just an illusion, and gave up on it.

the story of how you landed a job as an assassin is a long story, deriving from your childhood and your parents’ businesses growing up. all there is to know is that you’ve been here almost your entire life, courtesy of your parents.

given the brutality of all of your lines of businesses, you often think about how they managed to make their marriage work.

seeing colour has always been emphasised in yout society. it’s a magical moment, you’ve heard people say. but nobody ever tells you what to do when you’re meant to kill the other.

and you’re curious… you’re thinking, what now?

frankly, logan is thinking the same thing.

gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @localwhoore @namgification

series taglist: @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @lozzamez3 @haikyuu-carat @bicchaan @ @cinnamongirlontv

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke fir

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Text

𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏' 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒍

🐰easter masterlist🐰

summary - your husband, santa ari levinson, brings you to meet his good old friend, easter bunny logan howlett.

warning - smut, cuckolding, oral sex, fingering, swearing, creampie, breeding kink, human reader, easter bunny male, dumb bimbo reader, polyamorous, being used by men.

18+ only please, the gif and header aren't mine. happy easter!

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You didn’t know why Ari had given you this outfit to wear, but you weren’t complaining. It was cute and pink. You had smiled at him and placed a soft kiss on his lips before stripping and slowly pulling on the white stocking, followed by the adorable pink bodysuit that was a bit tight, but you had shrugged it off. Your breasts were pushed up, nearly falling out, and you had noticed the cute little fluffy white tail attached to it. You shrugged, slipping into the soft pink heels and placing the bunny ears on your head before walking to the mirror and checking your outfit out. You giggled to yourself, leaning forward to swipe some cherry-flavoured gloss across your plump lips before turning and smiling at your husband. “This is so cute! What’s the occasion?”

Ari walks over, wrapping his arms around you and palming your plump cheeks as he holds you close to him. “I have a friend I want you to meet. Thought it would be nice of you to dress up for him.” He hums, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead. “You’re going to be a good bunny, aren’t you, baby girl?” You nod as you stare up at him with wide eyes, wrapping your tiny arms around his giant form, and lean into him. He smiles down at you before leading you out of your bedroom and towards a portal that will take you to the mystery man. He smiles as you clutch onto him, and Ari hears a gasp as you both appear at the most beautiful field you have ever seen. A small giggle escapes you as you see tiny bunnies hopping around and getting things done.

“Oh my god! Bunnies!” You turn and look at your husband with wide eyes. “Am I getting to meet the Easter Bunny?!” Ari grins at the excitement in your voice and the awe in your eyes. He nods, and you squeal, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!”

“Well, if I knew she’d be this excited to meet little old me, I would’ve brought some chocolate eggs.” You spin around, lifting your head up as you stare wide-eyed at the huge man. He smiles at you, causing your knees to buckle and you to lean slightly into your husband. “Hi, little bunny.” You choke, feeling slick build between your thighs at his voice and size.

“H–hi”, You stutter, a whimper slipping past your lips, realising you are between two vast and handsome men. “I–it’s nice to meet you.” You slightly stumble as you stick your hand out, biting your lip as a moan threatens to break out as he covers your tiny hand with his massive one. His skin is so warm and inviting, and your eyes drift down. You wonder what else is like that, and your eyes nearly bug out of your head at the bulge that rests between his legs before they quickly shoot up, your cheeks heating as he stares down at you with a smirk.

Both men chuckle before Ari pulls back and looks down at you. “You won’t mind hanging out with Logan, do you? I have to go and deal with the elves.” You blink slowly, your gaze moving from one man to another, and you nod, feeling a bit fuzzy. Ari smiles at you before leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Be good for him, okay, baby?”

“Okay,” You whimper. Feeling your husband’s warmth causes your insides to feel funny, and the thought of being alone with this charming man intensifies it. “I love you, and don’t go so hard on them. They aren’t as bad as you think.” You pout, looking up at him with nothing but love.

Ari chuckles. “They are only good when you are around, my love. You don’t see how they are when it’s just me.” He looks down at your still pouting face, shaking his head. He places a kiss on them. “But for you, I won’t be so hard on them.” You are too busy staring at him to notice the nod and smirk he gives Logan before turning and returning to the north pole. You slowly turn, realising you're alone with him, and you catch his eyes on your tail before they slowly trail back up your body.

“I need help reaching for some eggs, little bunny. Can you help?” He looks innocent enough when he asks, causing you to nod immediately, smiling when he smiles at you before you follow him toward where the eggs are unreachable. “They’re just around here, and I can’t get my damn hands through something so small.” He growls, feeling his cock twitch at how tiny you are compared to him. Logan’s hand makes its way to the small of your back, leading you. “I like your outfit, bunny. It’s adorable, suits you.”

You smile up at him, feeling giddy. “Thank you! Ari picked it out for me.” You giggle, and as you let him lead you over to the area, you can feel yourself become soaked, and you are ashamed at the feeling because you love Ari and the elves. But Ari did tell you to be good for his friend, and you didn’t want to disappoint either of them. “Is this it?” You ask, looking up at him before looking down at the small hole.

Logan nods, pretending to be sad even though he and Ari had set it up before you arrived. “Yeah, sadly, I’m too big, and even my bunnies have tried, but there’s a spot not even they can reach.” Obviously, that was a lie, but you didn’t need to know that. You looked up at him with a heartbroken look, pouting as you thought of all those wasted chocolates and how sad the bunnies must feel.

You place your tiny hand on his thick arm, “I’m sorry! I can definitely help!” You immediately kneel, crawling into the hole, not knowing you’ve given the Easter Bunny an incredible view. His cock hardens and strains against his pants as he stares at your plump ass and the wet spot forming. He smirks, stepping closer. “Ugh, I–I can’t reach.” You wiggle, trying to come out, but you find yourself stuck. “Oh no! I think I’m stuck!” You cry, not understanding how feral Logan is slowly becoming. “H–help, please.” You whimper, and Logan kneels close behind you, groaning as he smells your arousal. “Logan?”

His large hands grip your hips, burying his face in your sopping cunt. “Mmm, you smell so sweet, bunny. A stuck little bunny all for me.” His tongue flicks out, licking your wetness through the material before sucking your cunt through your bodysuit. “I’ve got myself a dumb little bunny.” You whimper, clutching the ground beneath you as he continues to nose and suck your cunt before his hand comes up, gripping the material and ripping it. “I’m sorry for ruining your pretty outfit, bunny. I’m sure Ari will fix it for you.” He grunts, hand finding the fluffy tail connected to the destroyed material, squeezing it as he dives forward, licking and sucking your folds and juices into his mouth. The feral man finds your swollen button and begins to feast on it, swirling his tongue around and sucking it.

Your whines and whimpers fill the tiny hole, clutching the ground beneath you, and your head flops forward and rests into your hands. “I–is too good… P–please.” Every time you wiggle your hips, it turns Logan on even more. Seeing your plump ass and the fluffy tail makes him nearly snap. “W–what about Ari?...” You whimper, your mind slowly fading as the giant man devours you.

Logan chuckles, his lips and chin covered in your arousal. His eyes stare at your cunt as he begins to speak. “Now you’re worried about Ari, little bunny? You didn’t seem to care about your husband a few minutes ago.” He rubs your clit before slipping his finger inside you, thrusting and curling it. Logan feels his cock throb at the tiny little sounds that escape you. “Don’t worry bout your husband, little bunny. He’s the one who said you deserved a little treat.” He growls, launching forward again, sucking your swollen clit as he stretches you with his fingers. “So lucky to get a stuck little thing like you.” You cry, wiggling and clenching around him, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Slutty, bunny. Cumming round someone else’s fingers.” He groans, licking his lips at the sight of your cream around his fingers. He lifts them to his mouth and begins to suck on them. “Taste so fucking good. Know why all those men are so obsessed with you.”

You huff, sagging into the ground as your body fills with exhaustion. You squeal as Logan grabs your hips and tugs you out of the hole, placing your tiny body onto his lap. Logan wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing softly before moving his hand from your throat to your cheek, slapping it gently. “Wakey, wakey, little bunny.” You blink, dazed, and Logan gives you a devilish smile. “There you are. You’re such a good little bunny.” You provide a faint smile, feeling your body heat up at the praise. You whine as he lifts you slightly before your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your mouth drops open, “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” Logan pushes his thick member through your sopping cunt, gripping your hips and slamming you down onto him. Your screams of pleasure echo throughout, your tiny hands grab his shoulders, and your nails dig into him.

“O–oh… Too big! Is good!” You lean into him, your face nuzzling into his neck. You're engulfed by him as he wraps his arms around you and begins to thrust up into you. You whimper and moan into him, clutching tightly as his pace picks up. His hand wraps into your hair and pulls your head back, your eyes hooded as you try and look at him through your lashes. Logan grins, leaning forward and pressing a rough kiss onto your lips. His tongue swipes across, and he groans into you.

“Taste like cherries, little bunny.” You whine when his tongue slips inside your mouth, dominating your entire being. Logan nips your bottom lip and pulls back, chuckling as you whimper and try to chase his lips. “Needy, bunny.” He fixes your little ears before standing and bouncing you up and down his cock. Logan walks over to the side of a hill, pushing you against it as he begins to pound into you, watching you slip from your mind and fully become his dumb little bunny. “Imagine if Ari could see you now, know what a slut his wife is.” Your nails dig into his biceps, holding onto him as you slip away. Logan groans as you pulsate around him, squeezing his monstrous cock as your juices squirt out of you and cover the large man. “Fuck! Jesus Christ, squeezing me so well, little bunny.” He holds your hips and digs his feet into the ground, thrusting harder and faster into you. “You think your husband would mind if I fill you up? Hmm? Think he’d be mad if you went home all pumped full and destroyed by another man?” He grins, and his head falls back, eyes screwing shut as his balls tighten and his cock twitches wildly, burying himself deep inside you before releasing his cum, thick spurts of it shoot out of his swollen tip and deep into your womb. Your moans fill his ears as you feel his cum fill you up, slowly leaking out of your small hole and down your legs onto the ground.

You wake to someone stroking your cheek, your eyes blinking open, and you smile as your gaze lands on your husband. “Ari!” You try and launch forward to hug him but find yourself sore and exhausted. You pout and look down to notice you have been changed into comfier clothes, and you begin to look around, wondering if it was all a dream, but when your eyes land on a smiling Logan, you know it wasn’t. You quickly look at Ari with wide eyes, opening your mouth to apologise when he kisses your forehead softly.

“I heard you were a good bunny, baby.” You nod slowly, sighing in relief as he lifts you into his lap, holding you close to him. “I’m so proud of you, baby girl. Did you have a good time with Logan?” You nod, feeling your face heat up, and you quickly hide it into Ari’s neck, holding onto him tightly. His hands rub up and down your back, cradling you lovingly. “I’m glad, baby. C’mon, let’s go home so you can rest.” He stands and looks at Logan, giving him a nod before turning and walking back into the portal.

This won’t be the last time a massive man will use you.