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galamalion · 9 months

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꒰ა໒꒱ ‧₊˚ it hurts here, doctor!

⤷ ⋆ * ˖ ʚɞ ⋆ summary﹕law’s neglect pisses you off, so you remind him what he’s missing.

⋆ * ˖ ⋆ warnings﹕smut, fingering, cunnilingus, groping, slight dry humping, slight medical kink

⤷ ⋆ * ˖ ʚɞ ⋆ pairing﹕trafalgar law x afab!reader

getting sick was something you never worried about aboard the polar tang. your captain was rather meticulous about cleanliness, checking crew members’ hands before supper to ensure they washed properly, inspecting every nook and cranny of the ship for dust and dirt, and scheduling each member for a checkup twice a month.

you looked forward to these appointments, as your lover had far too many responsibilities as captain. often you’d wake up without him by your side, rarely seeing him when you performed your daily tasks, and finally going to sleep alone in your shared quarters. his excuse was always the same: work.

he had papers to read, supplies to organize, a meeting with bepo over where to land next. he was always working.

but he couldn’t ignore you today. no, today was your appointment. he had to see you, to talk to you, to touch you. and you intended to milk this short hour for all it was worth.

you waltzed into law’s office, sitting on the exam table and trying to get comfortable despite the cold pathetic excuse for a cushion. you showed up five minutes earlier than him, deciding you needed time to muse over your plan. it’d been three days since you’d exchanged more than a few words with law. three days you’d slept alone in your bed, woke up alone, got ready alone, all while on a submarine just a couple feet apart from your lover.

as you bitterly mulled over your thoughts, law stepped through the door, disheveled and tired. the bags under his eyes were darker than usual, while the buttons of his shirt had been misplaced, clearly done up in a hurry. part of you felt guilty seeing him so unkempt, but a small part of you felt agitated, upset he hadn’t come to you for help or guidance. but you wouldn’t let this get to you.

“good morning, doctor,” you said curtly, staring him down.

“...good morning,” he rasped, voice strained by a lack of hydration and sleep.

his hoarse voice aroused something in you, instinctually crossing your legs. he stalked over to you, pulling up a chair as he sat down, perusing his clipboard.

“any concerns you’d like to bring up?” he asked politely without looking your way.

you wanted to throttle him, stare right into his silvery eyes, and demand he fuck you on this uncomfortable table. but that would be improper. you had to work him up for this, get him as hot and bothered as you were. remind him that you hadn’t been touched in three days, that he hadn’t been touched in three days.

“i’ve had a slight ache in my chest for a while. could you look at it?” you requested, unbuttoning your shirt quickly.

“alright, just point to the…” law stopped in his tracks, staring wide-eyed at your chest.

you could immediately tell that this was the moment law realized what he’d been forgetting. it was apparent on his now incredibly red face as his brain tried to keep up with his eyes.

“it’s in this general area,” you pointed to your left breast. “mind checking for any lumps?”

the entrance of your voice awoke law from his frozen state as he scrambled to resume the checkup.

“y- yes, of course,” he swiftly exclaimed.

he pulled out two latex gloves, sliding his fingers inside them. his firm, warm hand found its way to your breast, gently squeezing and massaging it, engrossed in his current task.

“here, doctor,” you offered, “i’ll make this easier.” you reached your hands behind your back, unclasping your bra and letting it fall into your lap.

law’s hand retracted from your breast, floating inches from your hardened nipple. All he could do was stare at your now completely bare boobs, sitting invitingly on your chest, begging to be played with.

“it wouldn’t hurt to check both of them,” you spoke, “y’know, just to be safe.”

large slender fingers returned to your chest, continuing to fondle and play with your breasts like it was the first time he had ever touched a pair. you’d think it was cute if not for your immense arousal.

you opened your mouth to instruct him further, but a pair of soft lips silenced you. law moved one of his hands to the back of your head, entangling his hand in your hair and assailing your mouth with his tongue. he was more repressed than you thought.

eventually, he pulled back, letting you gasp for air. his head rested in the crook of your neck as he panted quietly.

“i’m sorry,” he panted, clearly out of breath, “for ignoring you this week.”

“you’re making up for it now, aren’t you?” you purred.

your hands made their way to law’s poorly buttoned shirt and began undoing each one, exposing his muscular chest for your viewing pleasure. likewise, law’s fingers hooked your bottoms, pulling them down your legs. his mouth found its place on your neck, kissing and sucking on the tender skin.

law drove his hips against your own, letting you feel his bulge straining against his jeans.

“it’s been too long,” he murmured, moving his hands to cup your ass.

“show me what i’ve been missing,” you begged, feeling an electric jolt of pleasure course through your body. his groping was almost too much for you to handle, grinding against him in an attempt to create friction.

he obliged, removing his gloves and yanking your underwear down, and moving his slender fingers to your vagina, running them along your slit and up to your clit, gently rubbing it. you shuddered as his cold fingers stroked your clit, a quiet groan slipping past your lips. it didn’t help that law was still attacking your neck, laying hickey upon hickey on the sensitive skin.

“i’ve missed you so much, law,” you moaned, leaning further into his hand, desperate to feel any part of him inside you. your prayers were soon answered, as law’s fingers delved inside your wet cunt, curling deep inside you.

“right there!” you gasped as his fingers struck your sweet spot. you grasped his shoulders for support as your body began trembling. he still knew all your sweet spots, and though you hadn’t been apart for that long, it still touched you and sensually and deeply.

before you reached your climax, those beautiful fingers left your twitching cunt, leaving you empty and needy as law brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices off. you intended to speak up about this poor excuse for edging, but law quickly revealed what he had planned, getting down on his knees and diving into your soaked pussy.

he alternated between sucking your clit and tongue-fucking your poor cunt, causing you to bite your lip to avoid alerting any passing crewmates.

“these walls are solid steel, princess,” law spoke up, taking a momentary break from feasting, “scream as loud as you want.”

with his express permission, you began moaning without care, rotating between crying out in pleasure and praising him for his handiwork. you could feel the coil building in your belly, so close to unraveling as law worked tirelessly on your aching cunt.

the pleasure became too much as your hands weaved between law’s hair and squeezed his locks, “law, ‘m gonna—!”

law said nothing, only squeezing your thighs and diving deeper between your legs. the corners of your vision slightly blurred, and your fingers clutched law’s hair even tighter, though he didn’t seem to mind. you leaned further into his face as your orgasm hit, pure chemical delight flowing through your body and demanding each muscle spasm until it finished. it didn’t help law refused to give your sex a break, only sucking harder on your clit.

you knew he’d be drenched after your orgasm, and as law ascended from your pussy, you could see the juices that stained his face. he grinned and looked you right in your eyes, licking the lingering cum away from his mouth. if you weren’t so worn out from that earth-shattering orgasm, you’d be raring to go again.

“i hope this apology was…adequate,” he muttered, panting heavily between your thighs.

“believe me,” you sighed blissfully, “it was perfect.”

the two of you hurriedly dressed before law’s next scheduled appointment, not wanting to risk being caught by the crew. checking the clock on the wall, you had a few minutes left, so you decided to help law button his shirt before he made a fool of himself.

once fully clothed, you sauntered to the door, sparing law—and his visible bulge—one final look.

“if you want to pick up where we left off,” you began, “i’ll be waiting in our bedroom tonight.”

after this little doctor’s visit, you knew in your heart that law wouldn’t be working any more late nights.

#╰┈➤ ✧.* 𝑜𝓅 #╰┈➤ ✧.* 𝒻𝒾𝒸 #trafalgar d law #trafalgar law #law #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d law x you #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x you #law x reader #law x you #law smut #law romance #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #mdni #romance #smut

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eoieopda · 7 days

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If you’re interested in writing it, I would love to read a part two of “the one with Chan and the promotion”! It’s so sweet and cute and I go back to it when I feel sad or sick and just want someone to take care of me lol.

aw, i’m so glad you liked it! here’s part two ✨

the one with chan and the promotion pt. ii

you needed a ride home after getting your wisdom teeth removed. chan just so happened to be free.

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader genre: fluff, hurt/comfort au: fuck buddies to ? type: drabble rating: 18+ — minors do not have my consent to interact with me or my work. wc: 1.3k cw: reader’s pov this time!; no smut but it’s referenced due to the nature of their relationship; reader had outpatient dental surgery (not depicted); reference to blood/swelling. a/n: this is a continuation of this drabble, which @moni-logues requested last year. in order for things to make sense, please read pt. i first! as of 4/21/24, part iii has been requested and will be coming eventually. navigation. skz permanent taglist. multi permanent taglist. request rules.

Upon waking up, the first thing you do is take inventory.

The list of things you don’t have is the longer of the two: four of the teeth you initially left home with, a blanket on top of you, your bearings, or any substantial memory of the how and when you got back to your apartment.

What you do have is a pair of slippers on your feet where your shoes used to be and a hand in yours, warming your palm. Bleary-eyed, you stare down at the five fingers interlocked with yours while your brain scrambles to load. It doesn’t. You swear you hear the Windows XP error noise sounding off in the back of it when your eyes flick up and find Chan’s closed, fluttering ever so slightly as he sleeps.

You don’t mean to voice your surprise out loud, especially not above a whisper, but it slips past lips still buzzing as sensation returns. “Christ!”

Chan doesn’t startle, which doesn’t necessarily surprise you. His roommate, who you’ve heard tell of but never met, is apparently prone to sudden shouting, apropos of nothing. He does stir, though, just slightly.

“No,” he mumbles without opening his eyes. Though he doesn’t witness the quizzical look you give him, he must suspect your confusion, nonetheless. Stifling a satisfied, albeit sleepy chuckle, he jokes, “My English name is pronounced Chris.”

It’s then that his eyes crack open, taking you in immediately and softly, pupils dilating. He’s never looked at you like that before. You don’t know what to do with it.

Flustered, you divert your gaze to your hands the way you always do, only to find that one of his is still holding one of yours. You don’t know what to do with that, either. To cover the fact that you don’t know what to say, you clear your throat, hoping the words will materialize after a bit of stalling. They don’t.

Chan, noticing your preoccupation, interjects and sits upright next to you on top of your still-tucked-in comforter. “Oh.”

He retracts his hand. A sheepish smile spreads in tandem with a flush of red across his cheeks and neck, so heated with embarrassment you can almost feel it from several centimeters away.

“Had a hell of a time getting you through the door and getting your shoes untied,” he starts, laughing awkwardly.

Oh, indeed.

You’d asked Chan to drive you; called him specifically for that singular task because your other, closer friends — the ones who haven’t seen you naked — don’t. On top of their collective lack of licensure, you know them all too well to trust any one of them with wrangling a highly medicated person on public transit. You’d be a liability in and of yourself; your chaperone couldn’t be a disaster, too.

Going into this, you’d believed that Chan had his shit together well enough to get you from Point A to Point B in one piece. You were right. He did, and even though he could have, he didn’t stop there. Not only did Chan get you inside, but he also swapped your shoes for slippers to avoid dragging dirt into your apartment.

He rubs the back of his neck, continuing, “You — uh — well, you wouldn’t let go after I corralled you in here.” The hand fussing with the hair at his nape gestures vaguely around your bedroom, which he’s seeing in sunlight for the first time ever, not unlike the way he’s witnessing you.

Once again, you search for words and come up with none.

There was no expectation of gratitude motivating his powerfully quiet act of kindness. Clearly, he didn’t expect to still be here while you napped off the lingering fog from the anesthesia. But he is here.

“I must have quite the grip when I’m high,” you manage to offer.

A way to ask without truly asking: Why are you still here?

Chan snorts, then he shakes his head while he answers, “Nah, you moved like you were made of jelly. I just didn’t want you to cry again.”

Somewhere, a record scratches. Your eyes go wide, expression otherwise withheld to keep your shock and mortification to yourself.

Again?

Vulnerability isn’t a thing you do. It took all you had to ask for his help in the first place. You’d rather drop dead on the ground than cry in front of anyone, let alone the person you keep at arm’s length and still sleep with on a recurring basis. Absolutely not. There’s no fucking way.

“What?” You croak. Almost as embarrassing as the crying, your dried-out throat and the hoarseness of your voice leave your face burning. You clear your throat again. It doesn’t make a difference. “Why did I cry? Pain?”

Fuck, you hope so. You pray for some yet unknown, minor surgical complication that would justify this uncharacteristic crack in your armor. For some excuse you can lean on.

“Worms,” Chan chirps with a shrug, as if that explanation truly explains anything.

You balk. “I would never cry over seeing a worm. It didn’t even rain this week; there wouldn’t be any on the sidewalk.”

He clamps his lips together for a moment, like he’s steeling himself, trying not to laugh in your face. You appreciate the gesture, kind of. Rather, you would — if he had a better poker face. The one looking back at you instead looks fully endeared, which makes you more embarrassed than his laughter ever could.

“I ran into the pharmacy to grab your pain meds, and when I came back to the car, you were sobbing. I was freaking out, thinking you were hurt or something, but no.” His grin comes at full force. “You were scared that worms may not have best friends.”

Oh, my god.

“Oh, my god,” you groan, this time out-loud. Instinctively, you drop your burning cheeks into your hands, hissing in pain the second they settle. You jerk backwards, yelping, “Oh, my god.”

Proving his attentiveness in real time, Chan shifts closer quickly, like a starting gun has been fired. His hands encircle your wrist gently, prompting you to look at him. Once he has your attention, his eyes scan your face in search of visible injury. A triage of sorts. Worry evident, he checks in: “You good?”

Yes, and no.

Yes, your gums are especially sore now that you’ve put excess pressure on them; but no, there isn’t a mouthful of blood hiding behind your tightly pursed lips.

Yes, you feel safe and cared for with him here; but no, you’re not fucking used to it, and it’s making your blurry brain spin.

How are you supposed to answer that question? You don’t even know which one he’s really asking. Before you say a word, you take inventory again.

What you have is Chan in your bedroom while the sun is still up, fully clothed and above the sheets. He’s here because when he tried to leave, he gave into your small act of subconscious resistance, too afraid of upsetting you. He stayed. He’d witnessed you cry about worms, and he stayed — perfectly still at your side long enough to fall asleep.

What you have is medication to deal with the pain you just exacerbated because Chan went out of his way to pick it up from the pharmacy.

What you have is heart palpitations, a different type of nerves blooming when you realize that dispelling his worry now will result in him taking his reactive touch away.

What you don’t have is the strength of will to lie to someone who looks at you the way Chan currently is, like he may not be able to breathe correctly unless and until he knows you’re okay.

“Yeah,” you eventually sigh. “I am. I’m good.”

In fact, you’re even better when he and his hands choose — once again — to stay.

while likes are appreciated, comments/tags/reblogs with your thoughts are really what make my brain go brrrtt.

skz permanent taglist: @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sourkimchi @stayceebs97

multi permanent taglist: @jihopesjoint @bahng-chrizz, @notevenheretbh1

#bang chan #stray kids #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #stray kids fluff #bang chan imagines #stray kids imagines #bang chan scenarios #stray kids scenarios #bang chan drabble #stray kids drabble #chan #skz #jade writes #jade’s requests #re: the one with chan and the promotion #kvanity

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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months

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hello gorgeous, I love your imagination that you put into words. I expecially like your works on daniel&gasly (maybe because they're my favorite drivers). I saw that requests are closed and you're going under the knife (hope it goes well!) but if by any chance you want/have time to write this I'll be happy. Will be pleased with whatever you choose to do with this request.

The reader is a very normal, ordinary person. Rents a flat, has a job, meets with her friends form time to time. Nothing much. Somehow hers and the drivers paths cross. He immediately falls in love with her, she feels the attraction but after one weekend with him she understands that they're too different and it certainly won't work. So he's trying to persuade her to give them a try and she always runs away when her feelings instead of brain start to win. During intimate moments she starts to make awful jokes or act like a child, everything to not let the passion take over and the driver notices that and the seducing begins.

Would love this with dan or pierre but it's up to you.

Have a lovely day! 😊

P.S: Sorry for my English, it's not my 1st language

Romantic at Heart || DR3

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader Warnings: none really, smut implied WC: 2.3k

F1 Masterlist

You should have been heading straight home, just like you had promised the girls after a Friday night out, but the lights had stolen your attention. At first you thought it was a firefly, a single orange glowing tail on the brick wall. Then you spotted another, but it was blue. Then one by one you noticed them dotted along the wall, all the colours of the rainbow leading the way to the riverbank in the opposite direction to your apartment.

Curiosity had you following the path of tiny LED lights, wondering what it might lead to. The distance between each beacon grew closer until they became clusters, like little galaxies of constellations you could wish upon. A small laugh bubbled up as you skipped along to the next one with childlike excitement, so engrossed in what you were looking at that you didn’t see where you were going.

“Oh, sorry!” you apologised as you bumped into a man, his hands scrambling to catch his camera before it could hit the pavement. “Sorry, I was distracted. Is your camera okay?”

The man had recovered it without incident and smiled as he held it up. “Mind if I check?”

“Check what?” you asked as he raised it to his eye, the lens pointed in your direction.

“If it still works. Smile!”

You laughed at the man’s confidence and you heard the shutter snap the photo before he looked at the display. “Wow, that’s perfect,” he praised, waving you over. “Come look.”

You stepped closer to the man, feeling a sense of recognition though you were certain you hadn’t met him before. He angled the camera so you could see what he had captured and your lips parted in surprise. You couldn’t understand how he had managed to take a simple photo but make it art.

The smile on your face was pure joy, and the lights behind you had distorted under the exposure and contrast to create a halo around your head.

“You look like an angel.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered in amazement, wishing you could have a copy for yourself.

“God?” he chuckled as he held a hand out. “Nah, you can just call me Daniel.”

You shook his hand with a laugh, feeling like it was a sound he was used to hearing from everyone he spoke to, and gave him your name in return.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Daniel started to say and you immediately began to shift uncomfortably on your feet, “but you’re beautiful, and it’s late, what are you doing out on your own?”

“Oh, I was out with my girlfriends and on my way home when I saw these and I kind of, had to, follow them…?” you trailed off and looked back at the dark path you had wandered down, less and less lights illuminating the way home. “I guess I should be going.”

Daniel followed your gaze to the darker end of the road and hated the thought of you walking it alone. Shoving his camera into his hoodie pocket, he offered his elbow. “Care for some company on this fine evening? My mother would throttle me if she knew I let a lady walk home alone at this hour.”

You chewed your lip as you debated his offer. “Are you a serial killer?”

“Only at breakfast.” You took a sudden step back and he screwed his eyes shut as he berated himself. “Sorry, sorry, terrible joke. Terrible timing. I meant Cereal Killer…because I eat cereal for breakfast…I’m sorry.”

“That is not funny,” you said despite laughing. “I watch way too many Netflix shows for that.”

His head tilted to the side and caught the colours of the leds around you as curiosity filled his playful smile. “Have you seen that Formula One show on there?”

Your nose wrinkled at the idea and shook your head. “Sports isn’t really my thing.” Trusting your gut that he was safe enough, you looped your arm in his and set off down the road.

“Then what is your thing?”

“Books,” you admitted, suddenly shy though you had no reason to be. “My friends actually refer to my apartment as ‘the library’. If I didn’t have to work to buy more books I don’t think anyone would see me again, I would just hole up and read.”

“There’s worse ways to spend your time,” he joked with a grin you were starting to think was perpetually painted on his face.

“Yeah, I could watch Formula one.” His smile faded and his laugh puttered out, making you instantly regret the joke. “I can hardly make fun of your thing when I’ve told you mine.”

“I don’t actually watch F1,” he admitted as he stopped walking and you turned to face him. “I’m too busy racing.”

“Racing what?”

He blinked a few times and his lip twitched with a smile when he realised you were genuinely confused. “I race cars…in F1…for McLaren.”

You waited for the punchline to come but for the first time since meeting him, he was serious. “Oh, oh! Okay…wow. I guess that’s why I felt like I recognised you, I must have seen you somewhere. God, I feel stupid.” You laughed to yourself and sighed, whispering under your breath, “you’ve been reading too much romance.”

“You’re not stupid,” Daniel said quietly. “I feel it too.”

Your laugh was an unladylike snort of disbelief. “Don’t be silly, you don’t even know me. You don’t even know my last name or what I do for work.”

“But I want to, if you’ll give me the time to learn. Not that it matters what your job is, you aren’t your work.”

“What if I’m an escort?”

“Are you an escort?”

“Would it matter?”

He was momentarily stunned and you saw him worrying his bottom lip and he thought of an appropriate answer.

“I’m not, but obviously it would matter,” you clarified as you turned and started your walk again. “I’m an admin assistant, not an escort, just so you know.”

“Not a librarian?”

You smiled as you tipped your head back to the starry night. “A girl can dream, but they aren’t positions that tend to come up very often. Even less with everything going digital.”

“You could open your own library, you already have the books apparently.”

You hadn’t realised how far you had walked until you stopped outside your apartment complex. It had been easy to get lost in the conversation with him and you almost continued walking just so the evening didn’t come to an end.

“Apparently?” you giggled as he opened the front door for you. “Do I have to prove it to you?”

He followed you to the elevator and leaned against the wall. “Is that you inviting me up?”

It was daring and absolutely unlike you but when you looked into his eyes you knew you wanted to see more of them so you found yourself asking, “Would you say yes?”

His smile grew as he reached for the elevator button in response and hit it.

Monday morning rolled around too soon and you struggled to pull yourself out of bed to get ready for work. Daniel’s back was to you as he hugged his pillow, one arm hanging over the edge of the bed, and you saw the slightly raised marks of your nails over his tan skin.

The weekend had been better than any of the fictional tales that filled the rooms in your house. You hadn’t even left the apartment, too engrossed in each other's company to face the outside world. But that would change as you climbed out of bed and started your usual Monday morning routine.

“Good morning, angel,” Daniel greeted sweetly as he snuck up behind you and kissed your cheek.

You held up the piece of toast you were eating and let him take a bite for himself. “Can I have your number?” he asked after finishing his mouthful and watching you dart around the small kitchen, packing a little lunch to take to work.

“For what?”

“So I can give it to telemarketers,” he joked as he caught you around the waist. “No, so I can call you.”

“This weekend has been…magical, but you’re a famous race car driver, and I’m, well, just me,” you said softly. “I’m under no illusion about how this ends, Daniel, we live in two different worlds.”

“That’s just a cop out,” he argued, picking up your phone and calling himself so he had your number. “I’m going to prove you wrong.”

Three Weeks Later “Daniel’s here to see you.” You looked up from your computer to double check Jess was talking to you and found her grinning like a fool. “I can’t believe he’s actually here.”

“Who?”

Jess reached for the half empty cup of coffee she had made you and sniffed it. “Did I give you decaf? Girl, wake up! You don’t keep a man like that waiting. The PA’s are already sniffing around him.”

Pushing your chair back, you rose at the threat of the PA’s who loved to dote upon any man who had a seven figure salary. Two of the glorified assistants longed to be on Love Island and their entire personality could fit in the extremely large breasts their ex-bosses had paid for - right before the sexual harassment charges were filed. Yeah, you weren’t going to leave Daniel to fend for himself.

Leaving the back offices, you followed the scent of knock-off Marc Jacobs to the reception area where Daniel smiled and joked with the small crowd surrounding him. You were once again struck by how different your lives were, his in the spotlight and yours anything but. It was only as you moved closer that you saw how the smile didn’t reach the creases around his eyes and heard the laugh that didn’t come from deep in his belly.

“Alright, ladies,” you interrupted the group with a wave of your hands, “thank you for keeping Daniel company, I’ll take it from here.”

A few overly keen females pouted as they stepped away and Daniel cast a grateful smile to you before pulling out the gift he had hidden behind his back. It took a second to realise why the bouquet of roses looked strange but then the confused frown was replaced with a smile as you accepted it. Every rose was made of origami, carefully folded and shaped into the blossom and you quickly recognised the lines of Pride and Prejudice, arguably the greatest romance novel of all time.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you held the meaningful bouquet to your chest.

Daniel was all too aware of your curious co-workers still hanging around the area and dipped his head closer to yours. “There’s this angel I’ve been missing, and I just needed to see her again.”

The gesture, the words, it all made your heart skip a beat but you quashed the feelings that arose with it. “That is stalking.”

His laugh was genuine and your smile grew when you saw his reach his eyes as he corrected you, “That is romantic.”

“Thank you,” you whispered as you sniffed the paper roses. “Did you spray these with your cologne?”

“The book came from a secondhand store and it smelt like mothballs, which wasn’t the vibe I was going for. I think I smell better than mothballs.”

“Wait, you made these!” Surprise floored you as you looked at them with a new appreciation.

“With a little help and a lot of youtube,” he grinned proudly. “I would have come sooner but it took three weeks to make them all.”

The effort he made brought tears to your eyes and you hurried to blink them away. The man was absolutely relentless in his belief that the connection between you could become something more, but you still struggled to accept it. It wasn’t because you weren’t attracted to him, no that had been instant from the moment you met, you just didn’t understand how someone as famous as him could settle for someone as plain as you.

“Surely you have better things to do with your time,” you said after swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Than thinking of ways to win your heart? No way. So…can I please take you out on a date?”

Your eyes traced the roses, scanning the lines from the pages of one of your favourite books. I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh. Daniel made you laugh, he could always make you laugh. The late night phone calls that interrupted your reading time replaced the silence in the apartment with the sound of your laughter. But would it be enough to close the distance between your worlds?

Your eyes followed another petal and felt it resonate within: Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her.

“One date,” you said as you tore your eyes away from the flowers that only seemed to call to you more, begging to find more sweet sentences among the folds. “And nowhere public. I want to actually be able to talk with you, not get swarmed by fans.”

“I can do that,” he said with a wide grin before kissing your cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He started to leave but he stopped as you softly called his name, looking over his shoulder from the doorway.

“Thank you for these, Daniel. No one’s ever done anything so sweet.”

“It’s just the beginning, angel,” he winked, disappearing out the door as you hid your face in the flowers that smelt just like him.

Crap, you sighed to yourself. He was worming his way into your heart, just like he planned.

#daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 rpf

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wingedhallows · 2 months

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i won't make it, love ; marauders

pairing: marauders (sirius idk ) x reader | 0.6k words plot: betrayel has consequences, in most cases, death. prompt: "i won't make it, love." authors note: a little something i wrote after a shitty day, hope u like it

navigation | happy ending

“It’s somewhere here, see.” Atreus held the parchment for you to see, his long dark hair whipping around in the cold winter wind. You nodded and gave him a small smile which he returned.

"Firewhiskey’s on me after this darn miss-”Crucio!” Without as much as a second to take a breath you slumped to the moist ground as a horrid howl escaped your wringing form. The pain shot through you like lightning as Atreus tried to fend off whatever caught you off guard.

The pain left you, slowly but surely as cold air rushed through your lungs, your eyes adjusted to dark once more as you scrambled to your feet, your wand tightly wrapped in your hand. Atreus was fighting against what seemed to be a death eater and- and.. Peter?

“Peter?” Your voice caught him off guard as his wide eyes found yours. Without a noise Atreus crumbled to the ground, eyes wide and dead.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at Peter, your breathing speeding up. “Y/N, oh, you have to understand, there was no other way!” He tried but you cocked your head to the side, tears gathered in your eyes as you tried to keep yourself from sobbing.

The betrayal flushed through your veins like ice. “But, Peter.” He shook his head and pointed his wand towards you.

“Stupefy” Peter spoke and without warning you’re launched back, your wand still tightly in your palm as you pushed yourself to your feet.

A small chuckle left your lips as the tears spilled, you weren’t going to see Sirius or Remus again, you’ll die in this alleyway and neither James or Lily will know what happened to you.

You couldn’t let that happen. Peter had started crying and the Death Eater became impatient, his want pointed towards you as well.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” he spoke as you got ready to apparate. “Sectumsempra” Peter yelled. Just as your body warped and bent through the portal you could feel it. The burning white pain shot through you as you crashed into concrete, your head pounded in despair.

“Incendio” you whispered as a flame shot out of your wand towards the window of their house. They knew about your mission, they must all be there.

You could hear some noise, the blood slowly crept up your throat having you choke out. The blood pooled out from underneath you, your hands now covered in crimson.

The door snapped open and the yelling began. “Oh my god-”Y/N-”Remus, make way-”Get out the way.” James had his hands under your armpits, Sirius had your ankles as they dragged you inside.

“Lily!” Remus yelled, some hands pushed down on your chest as more blood made its way up your throat. “Love!” Sirius held your face, eyes spiked with tears as you tried to give him a smile. “Sir-Sirius.” You choked out, as James went for your hand.

“What-What happened?” Sirius whispered as he brushed some dirty hair from your face. “Peter.” You whispered. His eyebrows furrowed as Lily pushed past him, clothes in hand. “Sirius, please.” She pushed him. “James, call a healer, now!” She yelled and James followed suit. “Peter is a Death Eater.” You choked once again, you could feel it, the life leaving your body.

“I won’t make it, love.”

He shook his head as he sobbed out, hands on your face again. “Don’t-Don’t say that.”

“I love you.” Your feet felt like ice, your hands went numb and slowly but surely your brain gave up, it just sent you straight to sleep.

“No, baby, please!” Sirius yelled, hand pressed on his eyes as he sobbed, Lily stilled to let out a breath.

“Please, please, open your eyes, y-you-you can’t d-do this, fuck!”

You were dead and there was no point in calling a healer, James tucked his wand away.

#harrypotter #hp fanfic #marauders era #marauders imagine #the marauders #sirius black #sirius black x reader #harry potter fanfic #sirius black angst #harry potter angst #the marauders angst #marauders angst

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ikkosu · 7 days

Note

Listening to Nicki Minaj and David Guetta song called hey mama gave me ideas....

Beginning 2000'. Ur a sport car racer in the city of ur choice and ur kinda known in town to be very good.

Imagine one day u found an abandonned race car that has a yellow orange red paint job and decide to repair it and use it to do races (u know, like the one in Tokyo?). Because like, the car has a unique design u've never seen before, not even for a rally. And is in perfect condition.

The day of the race, u arrive and everyone is quiet bc wow, that car is new, shiny and beautiful. They all stare at u, including others competitors.

In summary, u start ur race, and praise the car asf like "yeah baby, give me all u've got", "show them what u can do", "that's right, go on, don't stop","such a perfect engine revving to prove them we are the best"... and u notice the car litteraly has no speed limite, is doing an outrageously good performance and seems to be enjoying the race. The adrenaline running through ur blood make u ignore the fact that the car seems to react and live the moment.

Because of this, u win every races and end up beating every records. Nobody has ever made such an impressive performance.

To avoid having people touch ur new jewel, you leave quickly after recieving some prices and go back home. You blast some music to celebrate.

Back home, u decide to wash the car when u notice some weird pinky liquid coming out from under the car.

If u want u can eventually write what happen next (it's midnight and my brain is nwjfifishs) but i kust wanted to share this idea with u :))

Have a nive day/night ~~~<3

gosh!! that is such a good idea omg. I always like the idea of bots going along whatever their new humans are taking them to, preffering to remain silent while the human just,,does whatever they want to do lmaoo. Only escaping to their bases at night then returning the morning after like they hadnt left.

Given the human is a racer I can imagine they would manhandle the car a lot,,,,and Cybertronian are naturally sensitive on the driving wheel as well as the joysticks (and the pedals, too. Especially, the pedals) which leads to several pent up 'frustrations' from the bot themselves....👀👀

Doesn't also help the way you keep praising the car, touches always so rough yet soft when you knead the joystick or swivel the wheel....

I don't have much to add but,,,,

—CURIOUS, you hunch over, other hand pointing the mouth of the hose to the crevices of the wheels. They rolled across enough dirt already, but you miss impatient skidding of the the wheels back and forth.

Whatever strange substance that was, it had a tangy smell to it — almost pungent, yet also a little sweet?

You curled out a finger and dipped it into the viscous liquid. It was strangely cool to the touch, yet the tip of your skin flared with a mild burn a only a balm would induce.

Moreover, the crush, candy color were reminiscent of the cherry flavored Gatorade, you hoard often from the shops. Is this some new kind of fuel? If so, then why weren't you informed? Trends these days....always so discreet. But, how did it end up here?

The thought of shoving your finger inside your mouth, going against all ethical hygiene practices for a taste to satisfy your curiosity, is short-lived the moment the engine rumbled.

But it wasn't just a rumble....almost like a whine. Did it just breedle? Did it talk?

You yelped and scrambled on your back when the car shifted : a blur of mesh metal parts, churning and transforming into shape. Then, a shadow loomed above you, caging you in. Chuffs of steam heaved, like breaths of a a beast and two blue flaring lights for eyes, fervent and desperate...

#transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #transformers idw #ikkoasks #suggestive

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buckyscombatboots · 2 years

Text

Monstertober Day 2:

My Legacy

Pairing: Orc!Bucky x Captured!Reader

Warnings: Non con→Dub con, Dead dove: Do not eat, insults/degrading language, forced breeding, forced impregnation, drastic size difference, belly bulge, blood mention, virgin!reader, hair pulling, cowgirl→mating press, dacryphilia, dark!bucky, threat of violence, aphrodisiac

Nicknames: Tiny, little one, cum slut

Word count: 2.4 k

Monstertober master list

Master list

Tag list🎀

This has been long awaited, I know everyone loves Orc!Bucky, me too honestly. Enjoy.

A colossal, herculean man loomed over you, he was built from slabs of muscles that shifted under his thick layers of green skin. His bulging forearms, decorated with tribal tattoos, half concealed by a pair of tanned leather bracers, lined with fur; the designs carved into the leather matched his ornate iron pauldrons, slightly covered by the reddish-brown pelt of a direwolf, and the only thing covering his lower half was a loin cloth attached to a metal belt adorned with his tribe’s insignia. His eyes narrowed in a scowl, but despite this you could see his golden eyes, with flecks of amber and a vertical slit for a pupil—reminiscent of a cat's eyes. They were trained on you, hunched between the cart and barrels “How unfortunate Tiny. Should have hid better than that.” His meaniscing tone sends a ripple of goosebumps across your skin, a scream bubbles up to your throat and dies there as he reaches out for you. You scramble away from his enormous juniper hand, the lighter skin of his palm filling your vision before he opts for grabbing you by the waist and pulling you out “Gods above I can smell chu ‘ittle one. You’re terrified out your tiny little brain, but you're still so wet for me. If you play nice, I won’t have to hurt chu.” You consider chomping down on the web of skin connecting his thumb and forefinger, but Orcs are known for their tough skin, you decide not to. You stare up at the monster before you through your long lashes, tears streaming down your cheeks “Good, Tiny human. My true name is too complicated for your kind to understand or pronounce, so you can call me Bucky. I am War chief of this clan of Orcs, it will do you well to listen or I’ll pass you to the others. They ain’t too kind to little tiny girls like chu.” He begins to walk with you, pushing you to his beefy chest like a mother holding a baby close, your hands grab for purchase at the direwolf pelt strung across his shoulders; the feeling of the fur in your hands and the familiar scent brings you solace as he carries you over to a large group of orcs, one with blonde hair turns towards Bucky smiling with his tusks on full display, you cower at the sight—you know exactly what those tusks can do, you’ve watched them tear people like parchment “Steve, I’m going to head back to camp with a small group. You stay here. Kill any survivors, pillage whatever’s left, return by nightfall.” The Orc named Steve nods and replies in a strange serious of grunts, to which Bucky also replies in the same manner. They he’s walking again, he stops infront of an orcish warhorse—specially breed to be taller and stronger than normal horses to with stand the sheer size of the orcs— then he climbs on with you held in one arm

“Where are we going?” You whisper near his ear

“To your new home ‘ittle one.”

The ride back to the camp isn’t a long one, you slept for most of it as your adrenaline finally died down or you’d fallen into a state of shock. At this point you had no idea. When you awoke you’d arrived at what he called ‘your new home’ There were countless Orcs, they barely used any of their troops to conquer your village. The feeling of hopelessness rose in you once again.

“‘ere we are, Pet. Home sweet home.” He got off the horse and handed the reins off to another orc to be taken care of. He spoke to the orc bostriously with enthusiasm, smiling so wide you thought one of his tusks would like your eye out. Then he strode off decisively through the thicket of tents. He was taking you home, to his home. Not yours. He burnt yours down, he murdered your family. You hated the fact that seeing him smile and talking so happily, despite you being unable to understand what he was saying, made you happy. His attitude was contagious.

You approached a tent that was much larger than the others, it was also dyed a faded black compared to the other plain tents. It had two lit torches on each side of the pegs keeping it up and on the tent door was the same insignia that was on his belt, but this was painted in red—the colour of blood which he was so accustomed to spilling. You had to hate him, you needed to hate him.

He pushed aside the cloth entrance revealing a very spacious tent decorated in a sporadic manner with a large table that had a map splayed on its surface, your eyes shot down to all the red markers on it. One was on your village. They had planned this and nobody knew, fresh tears welled up in your eyes and you bit your wobbling lip, but a whimper still slipped. “This is your new home princess,” he wiped the tears from your eyes with one of his thick green fingers “so don’t cry anymore. It’s all gonna be okay. If you listen, everything will be fine. Now,” he placed you on the ground and walked over to a pile of things in the corner. He turned to face you before pulling out a shotel from behind him, but this shotel was the largest one you’d ever seen; the blade was unbelievably sharp, it was obvious that he’d spent hours sharpening, cleaning and customising it. Your legs collapsed beneath you as he pointed the curved blade at you, the point resting below your chin. Tears leaked from your eyes like a flowing river, you let out a whine as he hoovered it so close to your skin that you could feel the coolness of the blade “Move and I’ll cleave your skull in half. Understood?” Your vision shook as you meet his steely glare

“Y-yes.” You blubbered, he removed the blade and pulled out a chair from the long oaken table. The chair was much larger than a normal chair, obviously hand made for orcs by orcs—no scratch that, handmade for him. The chair was even bigger than all the others, it was made for Bucky, it was made for the war chief who towered above even other orcs. He plopped down in it, the twine holding it together creaking under his substantial weight, and opened his legs slightly clapping his massive bejeweled green hands down on his muscular bulging thighs.

“Come ‘ere little one. Sit on my lap.” He commanded, spinning the shotel on its blade on the hard packed dirt next to him. When you sat frozen, on the floor, he raised the blade towards you “I know you ain’t deaf. I don’t like repeatin’ myself.” You pressed your hands either side of your thighs and pushed yourself to your feet, your legs shook as you stumbled over. He extended out a massive green hand, you took it noting how your hand could only wrap around two of his fingers. Your line of sight travelled down to his dick. It was huge. Straining against the thin fabric of his loincloth. Straining so much that you could see all its features; dark green with lighter sections of skin, ribbed, with a thick gold ring pierced through the thin skin just under the head. There was no way he’d fit.

He helped you climb onto him, practically pulling you up by your arm which was dwarfed in his grasp. You straddled his lap, sat right in front of his bulging cock. Once you were in place he undid the opulent belt keeping the loin cloth in place and pulled. With one swift movement the belt and the loin cloth were both removed and thrown to the ground. His member was now on full display; girthy, long and definitely not able to fit inside you. You paled at the sight of it throbbing and leaking “It won’t fit!” You cried, attempting to run. He grabbed your arm just before you fel to the ground and pulled you back in place. You struggled against him, floundering like a fish drowning on land “Please! Anything else! You’re gonna kill me!” His hand clasped around your face as he reached back with his free arm and came back with a hefty glass bottle filled with a shimmering clear liquid.

“Breath, Pet. I ain’t expecting it to fit in you without a little help, little one.” He uncorked it with one hand and finally removed his hand from your mouth, you relished in the woodsy scent. He poured a generous amount on his hand “Take yer clothes off. Or I’ll rip ‘em off.” He ordered sternly, you met his gaze. His cat eye pupils had blown wide, filled with lust and need. You obliged, stripping off your dirty, torn clothes that smelt heavily of smoke. You swallowed your vomit as you recollected the state of your village.

His huge green hand began slathering the liquid on your pussy, it was warm. The heat coming off of the orc had heated it in such a short period of time, your eyes met his cock again. The heat of it was slightly darker green with a bluish cast, his balls were heavy and full. Your mouth was almost watering. You were pulled from you from your blatant ogling from the sting of a finger being inserted inside you. You yelped, grabbing at his thick wrist with your small hands “It hurts!” You yowled, beating at his calloused palm with your fist, he began moving his finger and the pain slowly melted into pleasure. You hummed at the heat filling your belly “Mhmn.”

“You’re a virgin aren’t you little one, there’s blood.” He cooed, slipping another finger. Which your quivering hole gladly took. You nodded slowly, whimpering as he stretched you, scissoring his fingers “Were gonna fix that. The Oil is enchanted, it should help you be able to take me, it’s also an aphrodisiac.” His words swam in your mind becoming almost meaningless as you pushed back on his fingers until you met his rings at the base of his thick, lengthy fingers.

Suddenly he pulled his fingers out, you whimpered at the loss humping his thigh for friction. You needed more. You wanted Bucky in you “Buck. Want you in me.” You mewl, grinding your sensitive bud down on the thick skin of his thigh

“Gladly.” He lifts you as if you weigh nothing and holds you above his dick, smiling coyly at your lopped sided grin and hazy eyes before slamming you down on his fat cock. The pain momentarily breaks your gaze but then the overwhelming feeling of his humongous prick filling your insides. Your hands travel to the bulge in your stomach, running your hands over it. Marvelling at it as he thrusts in and out. The meaty slaps of Bucky bouncing you roughly up and down on his lap filled the tent, more likely than not the sound was spilling outside. You didn’t care, right now you didn’t have the liberty to think much at all with his fat cock muddling up your insides. Your tongue fell dumbly out your mouth as you dribbled mumbling and moaning with every harsh thrust “That’s it, Pet, go dumb on my massive Orc cock. Never gonna want a human after this, they can’t fill you up like an orc. How pathetic. You deserve an Orcs cock to bring you this. Much. Pleasure.” He punctuated his words with his thrusts, bashing your cervix each time. You threw your head back in a silent wail, digging your nails into his large pecs as you relished in the orgasm that wracked your body. Constricted his cock, drawing a deep, primal grunt from his core “Yes! Come! Come as many times as you want pet, soak my cock in your juices my little cockslut. Gonna get you pregnant, gonna paint you fucking tight little slut hole with my seed. Gonna watch you swell with my children. Take it.” He groaned slamming into you with a new found vigour, picking you up as he stood.

You barely even registered him laying you on the bed until he pushed back your knees, resting them near your ears. You thought it impossible but he dick managed to nestle itself even further inside of you. An electric shock ran through your body as you came again, the pleasure being tears to your eyes as his thrust became more erratic, more powerful. His face loomed above yours staring intensely into your eyes “Gonna make you a mother, Tiny. You want to be the mother of my children? You want to grow with my child? You want to birth My Legacy?” He asked, “Answer me.” He demanded pounded into your cunt, his balls smacking against your ass, twitching, as he pushed down on your bent knees.

“Yes! Make me a mommy!” You cried, squeezing around him as he came inside you, he continued to thrust as he shot ropes and ropes of cum into you. Your stomach swelling with the sheer amount of spend shooting from his spasming tip.

“Ah feels so fucking good. Look at you, your body can barely contain my cum.” He chuckled, huffing, sweat glistening on his forehead as he littered your reddened face, ruined with tears and spit with passionate open mouth kisses.

“Felt good, wanna nap.” You yawned, your body tremouring from the overstimulation, your clit puffy and sensitive as his pelvis pressed into you enrolling you completely, blocking out almost all the light in the tent.

A hearty chuckle emerges from him, the sound fills your ears making more slick drip from your cunt onto his cock still buried in your overflowing pussy “Oh, we ain’t done yet, Pet. Gotta make sure you’re nice and pregnant, gonna fuck ya till I make ya look pregnant; so everyone knows who you belong to, that I have claimed you and that they can never touch you. ‘Cause you’re gonna have my babies, I’ll keep you filled and wanton on my cock ‘cause we Orcs mate for life after all, Tiny, and I’ve chosen you to be the bearer of My legacy.”

Tag list: @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @redbloodedgurl @teambarnes72 @shrekwreck @sweetwrathoflilith @cjand10 @bunnyscraft @flamefoxxrecs @addie5587483

1K notes · View notes

crackedpumpkin · 1 year

Note

Me: *sees your requests are open*

Brain: *gives silly little hehe*

May I request a Rise Leo x Reader that like. Bites? Like upset? Bite. Absolutely, head over heels in love? Bite.

Like they feel extreme emotion and they decide... Cronch-

Hello lovely anon! I hope you enjoy this, I'm so sorry for being so late;;;; My plate's been absolutely overloaded lately :")

|| ɪɴꜱᴛɪɴᴄᴛ || ʀɪꜱᴇ! ʟᴇᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ||

[ 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

This had to stop.

Leo pulls away from you with a wince, shifting in his seat on the couch so that there’s a safe distance between you two as he tries to withhold this…instinct of his.

You glance up at him, puzzled by his sudden movement. Your side starts to feel cold without his warmth, tilting your head as you look at him. “What’s wrong?” You ask, the hand that isn’t holding your phone reaching out for him.

He purses his lips, hugging a pillow close to his chest. “I just gotta calm down.”

“Calm down?” Your brow quirks up, even more confused by his vague explanation.

“Yeah, or…y’know.” He trails off, eyes darting around to look at anything but you.

“But I don’t know,” You point out incredulously, setting your phone down and moving closer.

He flinches, scrambling back to the other side of the couch as you start to grow worried by his extreme reaction. “Babe, what’s wrong?” You’re patient, waiting for an answer as he tries to find the words to explain precisely why he couldn’t even be five feet within your presence.

“I just- You’re too-” Leo desperately wishes he could be anywhere right now but with you. He doesn’t know how much he can take with your cute, worried gaze piercing his heart like a bullet. He can’t even look at you because he knows as soon as he does, he’d instantly melt and give in.

“You’re too cute….” He mumbles, teeth gritted as he tries to fight it.

“Thanks? But what does that have to do with anything?” You get up and sit beside him, grabbing his arm and refusing to let go. You tug him down towards you, brushing your lips against his cheek as he gawks, wide-eyed at the sudden action.

His cheeks bloom a rosy shade of pink, and you grin, taking his hands in yours. “Seriously though, what’s wrong, love?”

He looks away in absolute and utter agony at the sudden kiss on his cheek. He sneaks a glance, instantly giving in when he sees your lips pursed into a slight pout.

“You can’t laugh,” He sighs, leaning back against the couch with a defeated expression. Your eyes widen slightly. Is what he’s hiding that earth-shattering?

“I…I have this….thing. When I feel really overwhelmed with emotion, I…bite.”

“Bite?” You repeat with furrowed brows as you try to understand what your boyfriend is trying to tell you. “Like, an instinct?”

He nods. You’ve hit the nail on the head.

“So, when you moved away earlier…. It was because you felt overwhelmed by us cuddling?”

His cheeks flush with the blush he thought had ebbed away, returning with full force. He coughs awkwardly, already feeling embarrassed under your gaze.

“That’s okay,” He looks up, surprised by your response. You lock gazes with him, flashing him an understanding smile. “I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” It’s like a massive weight is lifted off his shoulders, relief flooding his chest when you nod your head with a warm grin.

“So come here and cuddle, lover boy.” You chuckle, gesturing for him to open his arms from where they are crossed over his plastron.

He hums happily when you snuggle against his body, leaning down to capture your lips with his sweetly, and you hum happily, tilting your head up. Your hands slowly run up and down his arms, stopping to rest on his shoulders. You shift slightly to get into a somewhat more comfortable position, not wanting to break the kiss.

Leo’s heart warms with joy, opening his eyes slightly to see yours closed shut. Your lashes brush against the skin under your eyes, lips curved into a smile as your body relaxes in his hold.

This makes him happy. Incredibly happy, in fact, to the point that he can't help himself. He bites down on your lip a little too harshly, and you gasp, a delicious tingle shooting up your spine before you break the kiss with wide eyes, panting slightly from the prolonged kiss.

Your chest rises and falls with each pant, matching Leo’s as he watches you with a lovestruck gaze while you both catch your breath. His thumb brushes against your swollen bottom lip, eyes resting on the beautiful rosy pink that’s beginning to become a slightly darker shade. His eyes flick back up to yours, and your breath hitches in your chest.

You gulp, unable to tear your gaze away.

“Did it hurt?” He asks softly. Your tongue is suddenly heavy, and you barely manage to shake your head with a dazed smile.

He chuckles, leaning back with a sigh as his arms circle your waist in a hug.

“You’re a menace, you know that?” You finally find your voice, settling for resting your head against his shoulder with a playful glare. He presses another kiss to the side of your head, bringing your interlocked hands up to place small kisses on the smooth skin.

You sigh, the feather-like touch causing a funny flip in your stomach. However, slight pain pricks your fingertips, looking up in alarm to see his guilty grin. He kisses your red fingertips in apology, and you relent.

Looks like you’d have to get used to this new behaviour of his.

#rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt leonardo x reader #rottmnt leo x y/n #rottmnt leo x you #leonardo x reader #leonardo x you #leonardo x y/n #tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt x you #tmnt x y/n #tmnt asks #rottmnt asks #leonardo hamato x reader #leonardo hamato #CPAsks

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linahopeeeee · 1 year

Note

in one of your stays you ask for an idea to write because ya were bored so here I am with an idea that I was dying to read but I can't get it down on paper:

what do you think about waking up in bed with a bad hangover, and finding baku and deku Very much naked, realizing you're naked yourself remembering that the three of you fucked like rabbits in a lot of different positions last night after returning drunk from a party trown by the bakusquad?

(bonus if make bkdk fucking eachother too, not only the reader 😏😏)

"I cant think straight, my Head is fucking pounding and there is a unholy amount of cum driping down my ass, I need a fucking shower" -reader at some point

Notes: this ended up being longer than i thought it was going to be tbh, but anyways here you go! hopefully it doesn't suck.

~~~~~~~

Your head is pounding, and why is it so damn bright? You sit up with a groan, your muscles screaming at you, eyes still closed to attempt to keep out the harsh sunlight.

The first thing you realize is the fact that you’re naked, but you don’t think much about that, sometimes you sleep naked at home, but then then the sound of someone snoring next to you has your eyes flying open.

Green is all you see. Why are you in bed with Izuku? You look to the other side of you and your eyes widen when you see a shirtless Katsuki. Hesitantly, you lift the blanket off of your body, eyes widening when you see all three of you are naked.

Memories of last night begin to come back.

~~~~~~

Katsuki and a couple other people threw a party last night, and there was alcohol, so, so much alcohol. you spent the night drinking, dancing and having a great time.

Speaking of dancing, your currently grinding against Katsuki, as the blonde grips your hips and dances with you, whispering words of filth in your ear.

Izuku stands off to the side as he watches you and Katsuki dance, alcohol has a way of forcing the dirtiest thoughts in that head of his, and seeing the way your ass is pressed against Kacchan’s dick has his own twitching in his pants.

It wasn’t until everyone else had gone home and it was just the three of you left that’s when the actual party started.

“l-lets play a g-game!” izuku hiccups excitedly from the floor, tugging your arm and forcing you to sit on his lap

“what kind of game?” you ask, subconsciously wiggling your hips to get into a more comfortable position, forcing Izuku to bite back a moan.

Izuku begins stroking his chin as if he’s deep in thought, in reality he’s been thinking about this for the past hour. He knew it had to be a game that was easy for him to cheat but also a game that everyone knew how to play. “how about uno, with a twist” he says grinning mischievously

“I love uno!” you exclaim “but what’s the twist?”

“every time you lose the game you have to take off an article of clothing.”

Your eyes widen for a second as thoughts of Katsuki and Izuku naked in front of you floods your brain. “only if Katsuki wants you play” you stutter, gaze flicking towards Katsuki who’s smirking at the two of you.

He says nothing as he stands and walks over to the cabinet where all his games are and grabs the uno from the shelf. You watch with cloudy eyes as he walks over to the two of you, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and nibbling on it softly.

“she cant be sitting on your lap if we’re going to play” with that you scramble off of Izuku’s lap and crawl your way to sit on the floor between them, giving Izuku the perfect view of your ass.

Katsuki and Izuku share a knowing glance as Katsuki beings to pass out the cards.

Twenty minutes later and each of you have lost multiple pieces of clothes, you’re down to just your bra and panties, Izuku only has his boxers left and Katsuki still has on his shirt and boxers.

“how about for this last round we up the stakes? both of the losers have to take off everything?” Katsuki suggests, looking at both of you for your answer, smirking when both of you agree.

Izuku ends up winning and you and Katsuki are forced to strip down to nothing. Your arms instinctively come up to cover you from their eyes, but Katsuki stops you before then can.

“you don’t have to hide from us y/n” he says as he gently takes your wrist in his hands and move them back down to your side. You try to keep your eyes on his face but cant help but lower your gaze.

Your eyes widen as you take in his length, tongue poking out to lick your lips. “fuck” you mumble quietly, but they both heard you.

A chuckle rips through Katsuki “like what you see baby?” he questions, head cocked to the side. He expects for you to be shy, maybe attempt to hide your face like you usually do whenever he says something suggestive to you.

But to his surprise you don’t. “yes” you say boldly, eyes finally leaving his dick in order to look him directly in his eyes. The look in his eyes is enough to tell you that he wants this just as much as you do, so you waste no time pushing at his shoulders, forcing him to lay down as you straddle him, your lips on his instantly

The feeling on your bare pussy on his dick has him groaning into your mouth, your arousal coating him almost immediately.

Izuku watches as the two of you make out, hand palming himself over his underwear, before he makes his way over to you.

He fakes a pout “ah no fair! I want kisses too” he says, but to his surprise it isn’t you that grabs the back of his head and smashes your lips together, its Katsuki.

You watch the two of them with parted lips, hands moving towards your tits where you gently pinch your hardened nipples, moaning as pleasure courses through you. Katsuki moves on of your hands and begin pinching and tugging at one of your nipples.

A squeal falls from your lips and Izuku picks you up and begins walking you in the direction of the bedroom, Katsuki close on his heels. Izuku gently tosses you on the bed and crawls between your legs.

He licks a strip from your slit up to your clit, moaning as your arousal coats his tongue, before sucking your puffy clit into his mouth.

“fuck zu!” you whine, eyeing Katsuki as he walks past the bed and over towards the nightstand, grabbing something you cant see before walking behind Izuku. He pulls Izuku’s boxers down and applies a generous amount of lube to his fingers, rubbing it around Izuku’s rim, causing him to moan against your clit, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through your body.

Katsuki spends the next few minutes working Izuku open and Izuku continues his assault on your pussy, at some point he added his fingers and has been thrusting them deep inside your walls, curling them every so often, smiling against you as you gasp when they graze that spot that has you seeing stars.

You feel that familiar tightening in your stomach. but it isn’t until Katsuki pushes the tip of his dick inside Izuku’s tight rim and he moans against you that you finally tip over the edge, orgasm ripping through your body with a loud whine.

That’s how the rest of the night is spent, with Katsuki and Izuku pulling orgasm after orgasm from you until your sobbing into the sheets, forcing their loads into you and each other until everyone’s too exhausted to keep going.

~~~~~~

Your hand begins to shake Izuku awake, brain remembering the every little detail of the eventful night you all shared last night.

“what! Whats wrong?” Izuku asks, quickly sitting up. He looks around the room for any signs of danger, a look of confusion takes over his features when he doesn’t see any danger.

“what wrong is I can’t think straight, my Head is fucking pounding and there is a unholy amount of cum dripping down my ass, I need a fucking shower" with that you climb around Izuku and walk towards the bathroom, both of them following.

“we’re just trying to save water” Katsuki says with a smirk, you have a feeling this is going to be a long shower.

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penny00dreadful · 1 year

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Return of The King - Part 2

Last time it was my birthday, this time it's my 1st wedding anniversary! 👰 I like to celebrate by getting my stuff out there! So here, have a part two to my 'Steddie vampire fic with a twist' which has a title now!

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 AO3

He was going to die. This is how he died.

“That’s mine.” A voice said to him with just the faintest tinge of amusement.

Eddie’s heart stopped. Like fully stopped in his chest for a second and his stomach dropped out of his ass before his heart kicked back into high gear. He couldn’t breathe and time seemed to have crawled to a stop as he stared at the dark figure in front of him, looming somehow large and threatening despite their similar heights and the lightness in his tone of voice. His brain was firing off warning signals left and right telling him the thing in front of him was a predator and he was prey, a constant blaring signal telling him to run, get away, escape, hide.

“What are you doing in my room?” Steve Harrington asked him. His face was completely obscured by the darkness and he was more intimidating than Eddie had ever seen him. He was further in shadow than anything else in the room, like he was sucking all the residual light into the void of his figure.

Eddie was frozen on the spot, he couldn’t move, the terror coursing through him had completely locked up every part of his body. He felt like his heart was getting dangerously fast, almost to the point of bursting, lodging itself in his throat like it was looking for an escape route. He could feel adrenaline starting to flood through him, making him shake and his eyes must have been as wide as saucers.

Steve was dead. Steve was dead, how was he here? How could he be here?! It had been a month, he… his neck was gone, his body was cold, he was… he was empty, there was no life-

How could he be here?!

This had to be some completely fucked up Vecna shit. This was god damn low, even for him. To use Steve in this way… it was barbaric. Eddie didn’t know how long he’d be able to take it before his heart either gave out or broke in two. He knew he wouldn’t be emotionally strong enough to keep himself from giving into Steve if he started to push his buttons and if Vecna was in his head then it was only a matter of time.

At least Vecna was targeting him. Eddie couldn’t imagine the devastation if he’d targeted the kids or Nancy or god forbid, Robin. If it was Robin who’d been sent visions of Steve… Jesus he didn’t even want to think about what it would do to her.

Steve cocked his head to the side and though the movement itself wasn’t inherently dangerous, the motion was enough for Eddie’s terrified state to kick his body into movement, making him jump backwards. His knees stayed slightly bent, like he was just looking for an opportunity to bolt.

“Woah, Eddie.” Steve said, sounding cautious. “It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He raised his hands as if to placate him but again the movement caused Eddie to flinch back, hip checking the foot of the bed painfully hard and sending him crashing to the floor. He fell flat on his ass, scrambling backwards until he collided with a thump against the wall under the window, unable to tear his eyes away from the approaching shadow.

Everything was starting to hurt now, not physically but emotionally. The reality of what was staring him in the face, some fucked up mirage of a dead pretty boy sent here to psychologically torture him to death was crushing down on top of him. Eddie’s throat was closing with grief, he couldn’t swallow anymore and his eyes were burning. His brain was crying out in devastation and his heart was crumbling around him. It hurt, it fucking hurt.

And he was alone.

He was here, all alone.

No one knew where he was.

No one even knew he came here to get away.

He was going to go missing again, presumed dead again…

They might never find him.

And he was struggling to remember a favourite song, any song that had brought him any kind of joy over the last month.

God this was all so fucked.

As the shadow of Steve got closer, Eddie continued to try to back up, to get as far away from the thing his brain was telling him was hunting him. He just ended up slipping against the floor as he kicked his legs out, his breaths were coming in short and sharp, he starting to hyperventilate and shit this really wasn't going well for him.

He curled up into himself, just waiting for the inevitable emotional and physical blows to come crashing down, digging his fingers into his hair and resting his forehead on his knees.

“Ed-”

“Can you just... give me a minute, man?” Eddie sniffled, his voice shaking. “I’m trying to get a handle on a favourite song.”

“I’m not Vecna.” Steve’s soft reply came, his tone of voice understanding.

“Uh-huh.” His knees were starting to get damp and he tried not to think of all the shit Wayne had to suffer through in life by taking a train wreck of a nephew in all those years ago. “Real convincing. Sounds like something Vecna would say, you dickless lump of unseasoned bolognese.”

Silence pressed in around him as he waited for the strike. Something to cut through him physically or emotionally. Rip him limb from limb, pop his eyes, punch a hole in his chest or just plain torture him until he expired.

Instead he heard a muffled exhale, something halting and breathy that almost sounded like-

Eddie looked up incredulous, his hands still clutched into his hair. “Are you laughing? Are you seriously laughing right now?”

Almost against his will, he felt his body start to come down from the panic gripping him.

Because he could see Steve highlighted by the moonlight spilling in the window, his face, his cheeks, his nose, his moles, his eyes, the part of his brain screaming predator quieted, now only whispering rather than shouting. The darkness of Steve’s figure seemed to lessen, no longer terrifying and unknowable, but familiar and comforting. There was no way to describe how he looked other than angelic. Ethereally beautiful in an almost unsettling way that made Eddie think of brightly coloured frogs that secreted poison and venus fly traps sitting motionless and open.

But now that Steve was no longer this looming, threatening presence shrouded in darkness he didn’t feel quite so dangerous anymore. Well, that was a lie. But he didn’t feel quite so dangerous towards Eddie. It was like just looking at him had helped the calm settle over his bones.

Steve shook his head, his hand still covering his mouth trying to quieten the giggles coming through but it was a rapidly losing battle. Eddie’s own mouth was starting to curl up against his will, his disbelief was bubbling into mirth in his chest, threatening to explode forth.

“Stop laughing at me!” Eddie found himself giggling through his words, Steve’s own laughter had become infectious.

Steve exploded, throwing his head back with loud braying cackles that made him sound like a demented witch, listing dangerously to the side before he caught himself.

“I’m not- I’m not laughing at you, Eds. I swear.” He giggled. “You’re just really funny.”

“That’s laughing at me!” Eddie had to hold himself back from swatting at Steve’s leg. While Steve’s laugh filled him with light, made him so warm and alive and bright in the dark room, Eddie still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still on the wrong side of the predator/prey relationship.

“I wasn’t laughing at you.” Steve sighed away the last of his giggles. “I was laughing at what you said. I told you, you’re funny.”

Steve Harrington thinks I’m funny.

Eddie’s heart rate was starting to pick up again but this time it had nothing to do with fear. Steve’s smile grew fractionally wider, blinking across at him, so warm and bright and full of life.

“I’ve been called many things sweetheart, but funny’s not usually one of them.”

“Well maybe they can’t see what I can see.”

Eddie felt his eyes grow soft and the smile slip from his face while his heart shattered and reformed a million times over. He nudged himself closer, just by a fraction, just enough so he no longer had the safety net of the wall behind him.

He held his hand out to Steve, palm up, who’s look had morphed into confusion and a bit of concern at the change in attitude before he placed his hand palm down in Eddie’s.

Eddie could feel the ridges and wrinkles of his palm, the warmth of his skin, the rhythmic pulse of a heartbeat under his wrist, too slow to be anything human but there and strong.

“Fuck.” Eddie whispered into the air between them. “It's really you, isn’t it?”

Steve tightened his fingers, holding his hand firmly but softly at the same time. “It’s really me.”

Eddie allowed his eyes to roam over Steve’s figure. He was so whole. His neck was all there, not a scar or wound in sight as though he’d never had his throat ripped out by tiny gnashing teeth. His eyes were glittering and thoughtful in the moonlight so much the same as they used to be but there was something different in them too. Their usual hazel-honey colour was present but there was a starling yellow undertone to them that hadn’t been there before. It only flashed occasionally when they caught the light just right. It should never have been visible except to someone who’d spent entirely too long gazing at those eyes and Eddie was exactly that kind of pathetic human to have committed them to memory.

Steve’s cheeks were steadily starting to go pink under his gaze and god he was right here. He was right in front of him with their hands intertwined and it felt so good but it also hurt. It still hurt so much, like he was going to be snatched away at any moment.

Eddie chewed on is lip. “You were dead.”

Steve nodded. “I was.”

“Are you-” Eddie swallowed. “Are you still dead?”

He didn’t feel still dead but what other explanation did they have?

“I don’t know.”

“What do you know?”

Steve shrugged, casting his eyes around as though looking for the answer in his dusty old bedroom. His eyebrows furrowed slightly and he sniffed. Eddie thought he might be smelling the air, but there was no smell here other than dust and that stale scent that often clung to fabric when it was left alone for too long.

Steve’s eyebrows relaxed and a sly smile slowly spread itself over his face. He pulled his hand out of Eddie’s grip to place his elbows on his knees and his hands under his chin like he was a teenage girl ready for gossip before looking Eddie directly in the eye.

“Have you been sleeping in my bed?”

Oh god, it was so creepy. It was so creepy what he’d been doing. Eddie glanced over at the rumpled sheets, a far distance from how the bed had been when he’d first found it, all clean lines and hospital corners which he couldn’t recreate if he tried.

His face was getting hotter and his heart was getting faster and Steve could definitely see his blush if the widening smile was anything to go by. Eddie suddenly felt pinned as prey again but very different than before, trapped under Steve’s fiery stare.

He needed to get his solid footing back, he needed… he needed to chill the fuck out. Get back on track and try not to tackle the man in front of him and pin him down or roll over and beg Steve to rip him apart.

Steve was still staring at him like watching Eddie squirm was the most interesting thing he could be doing, like he could tell exactly what Eddie was thinking, like a cat watching a mouse caught in a trap.

“I have come to a decision.” Eddie announced, with all the false bravado he could muster.

“Oh yeah?” Steve asked, not swayed in the slightest.

“You’re not Vecna.”

“Duh.”

“Okay, smartass.” He grinned. “You’re not Vecna, you’re not as dead as you used to be, but you don’t know if you’re still a little bit dead?”

Steve sat up, running a hand through his perfect hair. God damn it of course it was perfect, it looked so soft. It flopped back down over his forehead making him look even more devastatingly handsome than before. “Yeah, I figured I could use your help with that.”

For some reason that was what made it hit him all at once.

Steve was here.

He was back.

Something was wrong, he wasn’t back the same but it was him.

Eddie wasn’t alone in this anymore.

The Fellowship… things might be able to get better.

Fuck.

It was like he could finally see in colour.

Like he’d been looking at shadows on cave walls his entire life and was now able to go outside.

It was like he was back into himself in an instant, the Eddie who’d been desaturated with trauma and drowning in responsibility was brought back to life.

He had so much energy, he was almost bouncing with it. He had to find out everything. And he had never been the type to be able to put a book down once it got good. He always had to chase until he got answers and those big goddamn eyes were looking back at him, alive.

“What are you?” Eddie was scooting forward until he was well into Steve’s personal space.

“Uh,” Steve’s boyish confidence seemed to leave him all at once, recoiling slightly as Eddie leaned into him, poking his cheeks and examining his eyes up close. He swatted Eddie’s hands away from his hair, but not before Eddie got to feel it. The famous hair, buttery soft and silky and so thick. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I am, I was hoping you might have some idea, you’re the Lore Master or whatever.”

Eddie sat back a little and tilted his head. “I think you mean Dungeon Master but Lore Master is also an objectively cool name so I’ll take it.” It was a really cool title after all. “I assume I'm the first one you've sought out?”

Steve smirked again. "You're very sure of yourself."

Eddie didn't want to say that if Steve had had the misfortune to visit anyone else first it probably would have been a disaster of epic proportions. He didn't want to say that he'd have known about it immediately because he was now the one who was called first whenever someone had a breakdown or some shit went sideways. He didn't want to say that if it had happened that Steve had visited anyone else, the Fellowship could have ended up broken beyond repair. More than it already was.

Instead he just shrugged.

Steve shook his head. “No, Eddie, I don’t want to see them yet. Not until I have this,” he gestured to himself, “figured out.”

“Right.”

“But everyone’s doing okay?” Steve smiled, as though just the memory of them was enough to light up his life. “I’d say you’ve been driving them crazy with your dice game. Everything that had happened must have given you some great ideas? And you’re probably run ragged driving them everywhere, now that I think about it. Probably more than I was with the cracks everywhere. At least you have a night off for sleepovers and that kind of thing, right?”

Eddie looked over at him, Steve had so much hope and joy in his face at the idea that everything was continuing on as normal and Eddie wished he could keep it that way. “No. We haven’t been doing any of those things.”

“Why not?”

God, this was going to be difficult.

“Everyone’s kinda… fucked up.”

“What? Why? Do they need help? What happened?” Tension had taken over Steve's body in a flash, that animalistic danger was radiating off of him again in waves. He looked like a snake coiled to strike.

Eddie held a placating hand out. He really should be scrambling back because the energy Steve was giving off was terrifying but it also wasn’t because it wasn’t directed at him. He just knew, deep down in his soul that Steve, this Steve, would never hurt him. Eddie felt safe, wrapped up in a bedroom, isolated in a house no one knew he was in with an apex predator who could probably snap him in half.

He managed to get a hand on Steve’s sleeve, gently pulling his gaze back to himself. “Sweetheart… you died. That’s what happened.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped in surprise. He looked shocked. “Really? That’s it?”

“That’s it? That’s it? Hell yeah, that’s it! Stevie baby, you fucking died. Don’t tell me you thought they wouldn’t be mourning you?”

“I mean, I knew they would for a little bit but I thought they would have moved on by now.”

“I don’t think you understand how important you are to the group. Everyone was- still is devastated! Jesus, I’m still in mourning and you’re sitting right in front of me!”

“You?”

“Yeah me! You were my god damn lifeline for the worst week of my existence. I’m supposed to just move on from my knight in shining armour who died tragically and selflessly before I could really get to know him? Get real. I was about two seconds away from wearing a black veil to your memorial.”

“I think you should’ve.”

“Probably best that I didn’t.”

They sat and considered each other for a long moment. Eddie catalogued all the information he’d gotten about this Steve so far. He certainly seemed like himself. So he could possibly be some kind of Vecna sleeper agent. He said he needed help with the whole being dead thing. So was he back to life? Undead?

He didn’t look like how he’d expect any undead creature to look. Even in the pale moonlight Eddie could see the healthy glow to Steve’s skin, felt his thick hair, he seemed strong. He could move incredibly fast. When he was unknowable in the shadows he seemed terrifyingly dangerous. Like he radiated fiersome predator energy without meaning to. Even now that instinct to run, get away, escape, hide was still there at the back of Eddie’s mind but it was less scary than it had been and was now more... thrilling.

Though that could have something to do with Eddie’s own fucked up sexual proclivities.

Overall Steve still seemed Lawful Good. Goofy, bitchy, charming, handsome, sexy, gorgeous…

Okay, moving on.

Eddie was pretty sure he was settling on what Steve might be. He wasn’t rotting, he wasn’t non-corporeal, he wasn’t leaking black ichor or trying to eat his brains. There was just one last thing he needed to see to confirm his suspicions.

Time for the plan of attack.

“Let me see your teeth.” Without warning Eddie surged forward, managing to just barely brush Steve’s top lip with his finger before his wrist was caught in a rock solid grip.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Figuring you out.”

“What does my mouth have to do with it?”

“Your mouth is very important.”

Steve cocked an eyebrow at him, but still held him firm.

Eddie pouted, attempting to play up the dramatics as much as humanly possible. “Stevie!” He whined, shaking the wrist that was still being gripped, allowing his hand to flop around. “You’re no fun.”

“I'm plenty fun, you’re just a menace.”

“I’m not a menace, I’m your Lore Master.” Eddie tried to dip his voice as low as it would go, taking on that rumbling timbre he usually used for his baddies or whenever he needed to reduce someone to liquid in the bedroom.

He felt a grin spread over his face as Steve’s cheeks got a little pinker and his eyelids fluttered just a tad before he schooled his expression back into one of exasperation. Eddie looked over his face again trying to pinpoint why the whole undead thing felt a little… off.

“You know, you look… deceptively normal.”

“Should I not look normal?”

“Well if my suspicions are correct, I would have expected you to look… I don’t know, paler? More dead? Red eyed?” His wrist was still being held prisoner so he leaned forward and stared at Steve wide eyed in a way that usually unsettled people, trying to get him to crack again.

Steve only seemed amused. “What are your suspicions?”

“What are yours? You must have an idea by now.”

“I do but,” Steve huffed and shook his head, “I don’t know if I’d be correct. You guys are the smart ones who know all about this nerd supernatural stuff, I just know what I’ve seen in movies and shit.”

“Okay, well just before I say what I’m thinking I want to check your teeth again.”

“Okay.”

Steve finally released his wrist, allowing Eddie to reach forward and pull his top lip back.

Damn, that was disappointing. They were just normal regular human teeth. Eddie still had a finger on his lip when he just barely caught a mischievous glint in Steve’s eye.

Steve raised his tongue, pressing it against the roof of his mouth and Eddie yelped and snatched his hand back as two short fangs shot down from his gums sliding over his canines.

Steve laughed, his fangs catching a little on his bottom lip. Eddie had apparently left all sense of self preservation behind, throwing himself forward again, practically climbing onto Steve’s lap to get a closer look, grabbing the fangs between his fingers and wiggling them to see how firm they were.

Yep, they were really set in there and they were so short and stubby. There was no way to describe them other than cute.

He angled his head to look up into the roof of Steve’s mouth where his tongue was still pressed, watching in awe as he removed his tongue, his fangs slowly retracting back up into his gums, leaving two small holes in their wake.

“Oh, gross.” Eddie said, fascinated. “Do it again.”

Steve just cocked an eyebrow and angled his head to give him a better view. There was a bump in the roof of his mouth and as Steve pressed against it, slower this time, the two holes in his gums opened wider, his fangs lowering in time with the press of his tongue.

“Looks like some kind of muscle.”

Steve lowered his head and it was only then that Eddie realised how close they were. Their noses nearly touched, Eddie was in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs but Steve didn’t seem to mind, his hands lightly resting on Eddie’s hips.

Maybe don’t try and fuck the apex predator for Christ's sake, he thought to himself but he couldn’t find it in himself to move. He looked down at his own hands and pressed his fingers together.

“My fingers are numb.”

“Yeah, there’s some kind of venom coating the fangs.”

“What? Dude!” He smacked Steve lightly on the chest. “You couldn’t have given me some kind of warning?”

“You didn’t exactly give me a chance, you just kinda…” Steve moved his hand in an arc, “dove in.”

Eddie shrugged before taking a deep breath in. “Well, I believe I have come to my conclusion.”

Steve smiled at him, wide and sharp and enchanting. “Care to share with the class?”

“Maybe.” Eddie tried to put on an over the top performance of being coy, trying to ignore precisely where he was sitting. “What do I get in return?”

Steve’s smile somehow turned sharper. It was hungry and predatory and Eddie’s heart stuttered. “You’ll take what I give you.”

Eddie had to bite down on his cheek and he had to bite damn hard to try to get some control over himself otherwise his heart was going to fly off into the stratosphere. He swallowed around thin air and forced his voice to come out evenly.

“Vampire.”

Steve nodded, squeezing his hips lightly, just once. “I thought so too.”

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 AO3

@romanticdestruction, @darkwitchoferie, @justforthedead89

#steddie #steve and robin #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie x steve #eddie and robin #steddie fic #stranger things fic #fanfic #penny00dreadful #steddie vampire fic #steddie fanfic #vampire au #steddie vampire au #happy birthday to me #vampire steve #vampire steve harrington #Return of The King Steddie #happy anniversary to me

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cloudninetonine · 9 months

Text

A Player's Aid: Chapter 13

Fandom: Legend of Zelda, Linked Universe

A/N: I'D LIKE TO THANK EVERYONE WHO GAVE ME MORAL SUPPORT ON OUR GROUP CALL AND A SPECIAL THANKS TO MY EDITORS, FANGS AND SHY, ALSO FOR LISTENING TO ME REREAD IT ALL Y'ALL GREAT

Warnings: Bad language, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, threatening language, descriptions of sick/vomit/throw up, disturbing imagery descriptions and descriptions of panic/anxiety attack, also slight implications of suicidal tendencies

The weight of the world felt heavy on your shoulders in this castle of darkness and silence. Your body weak, shaking under the pressure of any regret that ever did cross your mind as you sat there, curled into the tightest ball with a tear soaked face and fear blanketing your eyes.

It was true, what they said. Near death, your life would flash before your very eyes, letting you relive every last waking moment in a solemn look that only grew more agonising by the second. Your mother? Stranded. Alone. Never to be seen again. Your friends? Abandoned. Clueless. Left wondering what happened to your being. Would you ever return to your home? Would Hyrule be your resting place? Whether from old age or the consequences of a risky move, resulting in a bloody pool beneath your cooling body-

How did you get here? When did you get here? Where were you? Was this real? Were you real? The suspense almost choked you, hands shaking with repressed emotion, clutching tightly to your cloak that hung from your shoulders. Home. You wanted home. You wanted your home. You wanted, wanted, wanted, wanted-

“(Name),” Wild called again, his hand coming to join yours balled tightly around the fabric of your mantle, “Please, I know you are scared but you must pull through.”

The Champion sounded so close yet so far. A mixture of nonsense and sense as your brain continued to stay muddled in the lone castle hallway.

Not a skulltula stalked the corners, nor did the Shadow’s darkness lurk, dragging against the walls and floor as it searched desperately for your petrified figure. Was he still reeling from your defiance? Had he simply taken the wrong turn at some point while desperately scrambling after you? Why wasn’t he here? Was he waiting? Watching?

A whimper broke past your lips.

Wild glanced around nervously.

What to do? What to do? The Wild Hero knew of your pain but yet didn’t know how to heal it. Time was ticking, he knew that danger was on the prowl and with only a lone holder of courage, the blonde knew that it would be a dangerous brawl indeed-

But then he remembered.

Wild remembered back, all those many moon cycles ago, when the Shadow had struck down the ranch-hand. Rivers of blood bloomed from the slash of the Iron Knuckle’s blow, spouting maroon sullying the area around Wolfie as he collapsed back onto the earth below, unmoving and quiet as time seemed to pause as all eyes fell onto him. He remembered the rage, he remembered the fear and the shouting and the pleas and he remembered it.

Standing. Watching. Waiting.

From anger sprouted seething hatred as he stared. It felt mocking, despite the apparent leaking wound under its bulking armour. Mocking of the hero before it, triumphant over its victory- Twilight had gotten cocky in his incessant hunt and now he had experienced its true power.

Wild had snapped then, watching his friend bleed out between the bodies of his brothers protecting him even unknowingly. His newly forged sword drawn at the ready with his hand itching towards his slate as he bolted towards it. The hero did not care of its destructive power, he did not care of the consequences of his rage; others yelled around him but he would not yield, not even for them.

And he did what he did best- he swung.

The Chains of Stasis keeping it still, he hurled hit after hit of his blade. Every emotion that burned in the rivers of his veins poured into the strength of each and every blow. The dents in the armour only fed into his bloodlust, gripping his heart, almost choking but he kept at it, kept beating until the dinging finally stopped and his sword snapped from the strain, the armoured giant bubbling from the tension before exploding into a barrage of scrap, liquid darkness pooling around the remains.

The first attempt to break them. Put the fear into them all as Twilight had laid in that inn bed. The Shadow had tried to pull them apart from the seams, digging its sharpened claws into the fabric to rip what held them together- their brotherhood, their bond. If one was to fall, what would become of the rest? Chaos would ensue and chaos did take its toll, fights and venomous words breaking out between them.

But…but Twilight had made it. Miraculous and a miracle, the man of muscle had returned to his brothers with only regrets of secrecy to his name.

Wild would not let this happen again. He would not let the Shadow grin that mocking smirk as you laid cold on the floor below, blood pooling beneath you.

“(Name), I’m going to lift you, okay?” Words soft, the Wild Hero stroked your hands, testing his touch. “Don’t panic.”

When you didn’t respond negatively he moved his palms downward, slipping one under your knees and tightening another around your back, pushing his weight onto one leg to haul himself to his feet. It wasn’t ideal, not being able to fight, but this was all he could do while you were still stunned.

Bouncing you a little, he readjusted you in his arms and made quick work of returning to his brothers.

----------

Despite the Ache’s deceit and malicious intentions- it had not lied.

The skulltula herd had been quite the fight. The dodging of pincers while slashing their swords, snapping jaws with saliva dripping an ungodessly sight until the very end, Sky plunging the Master Sword straight into the archnid’s softened belly with monster blood spraying. The hero’s eyes were dark then, watching the creature writhe and squeal in pain until the very end, the dark purple ‘poof!’ of monster magic fading along with any remnants of the beast.

“We must still check the castle’s library- whether or not another hoard awaits us.”

They had to find those hostages.

And they did.

Builders, guards, mere travellers and others from the settlement were held up in the confines of the library- singing praises of the heroes appearance, handshakes and hugs of desperation shared all around as they cheered.

“Our rations grew smaller, we were unsure if we would ever make it out alive!” Cried the head guard, Cillian was his name. “Thank you, good sirs, thank you so!”

“What led you into this mess?” The smithy had asked, “What happened?”

A builder’s moustache shook along with his wobbling lip, tears cornering his eyes. “Great big beasts with too many legs and eyes chased us! Attacked those who were unprepared! The library was the only place restored enough to keep back all of them!”

His friends comforted him as he wailed.

Cillian turned back to the heroes.

“Tell me, heroes- do these monsters still stalk those halls?” Cillain seemed almost afraid of his own words, let alone the answer. “Are we still in danger?”

The ranch-hand stepped forward. “We are all far from perfect safety but the hallways are no longer overgrown with webs or these creatures. We will escort you out, but any fighters who can still draw their sword should stay prepared to brawl.”

Hylians cried out in despair but the more battle prone called for their clarity- now wasn’t the time, they needed to escape.

The heroes did not forget of their other current affairs. Hyrule’s hand shaking around the hilt of his sword as he looked forward, dead eyed at the thoughts running through his mind.

Had the Wild Hero found you yet? Or did he still sprint through those halls? Once Twilight had tossed him with his shield, his bare strength throwing the smaller blonde over the crowd of monsters and a little further down the hallway, Wild had raced away. The skulltula couldn’t even keep up, left in the dust of the Hylian heroes brown polished boots. It was no surprise of course, the man had one goal on his mind and that was finding you- he had no time.

Were you okay? Were you dead? Hyrule’s pupils shook in boiling anger and fear. What if Wild hadn’t made it in time? What if he had just stepped into the scene to see the Shadow’s hands tear wildly at your skin, blood staining his claws as he tore out your own heart?

What-

A scream.

A scream so vile and horrid echoed through the stones, bouncing through the hallways and catching the ears of the masses. Others also screamed, horrified. Many covered their own ears and others ducked when the walls shook from this shriek’s power, dust crumbling from newly built structures and books falling off their shelves as the shockwaves hit until finally relaxing.

The heroes all shared a look.

Warriors wasn’t fast enough to grab Hyrule’s tunic before he was scrambling.

“Traveller!”

The eldest had roared, worried but also frustrated, but it was too late. Hyrule had leapt three steps each of the staircase and bolted right back the way they had come, the others in a state of shock before the Captain had begun to chase after him.

“I’ll make sure he won’t kill himself!”

And they, too, were gone.

Six remained.

Twilight’s hands twitched, glancing over to Time who could see the confliction in his eyes. Holding back for him.

He sighed, “Go.”

And now there were Five.

“We will escort you all, come.”

----------

Navigating the new paths of the castle was a little harder than Wild expected. It had been so long since he had trekked these halls, crumbling and blotched with Ganon’s malice as monsters of all kinds chased him. Bad memories, ones he would much prefer to forget, nevermind what this grand palace would have looked like before the chaos of the Calamity. Zelda hadn’t come to see the rebuilding yet either, despite the idea being raised, similar tainted dreams associated with her old home. It was why she stayed with him back in Hateno, making plans and working towards a goal in the confines of brick instead of the towering stone.

Anywho, Hyrule Castle was renewed and with renewal came new things- these were new hallways. Winding and detailed, new rooms had been carved from the remains of old- the webbing of the skulltula only added to the confusion, everything looking the same.

Damned beasts.

Sneaking by another one of those eight legged monstrosities, Wild dipped out of the room quietly and sped his walk to a silent jog, your arms tightening around him. More lucid now, you clung to the man in fear.

“Is he looking for us?” Your voice was a whisper, soft against his ear and making it twitch. “Or did he give up?”

He hated to quash that small spark of hope that dwindled. “I highly doubt it, not when it’s just the two of us.”

Your terrified whimper broke his heart. “He knows I’m the guide- he thinks I have some sort of magical power.”

It made sense, why else would he drag you here-

“He said he wanted it, he said he was going to tear out my heart-”

“Hey, hey, shhhh, shhhh.” The hero held you close, ducking into a corner away from prying eyes as you silently wept into his shoulder. “I won’t let that happen, do you hear me? He won’t touch a hair on your head.”

You’d cried like this only once before. Terrified, choked out, the hero could remember the weight on his chest and the feeling of fingers gently combing through his hair despite the lack of physical appearance with him. Wild could see the shading trees, leaves blowing in the wind as he laid in a pool of his own blood near the dead centre of Giant’s Forest- the Hinox remains laid just a little ways away.

“Please, Link, please you can’t die-” You choked, his heart hurting at the whimper. “You can’t leave me here alone-”

Wild hadn’t been gifted with Mipha’s grace yet. Too busy challenging himself to do more, beat more, he needed to be perfect when the time came to defeat the evil lurking within the cogs of the Divine Beasts. Better yet the malicious monster that resided in Hyrule Castle.

Yet there he laid, chilling and still in the once luscious green grass.

You had saved him somehow of course you had, someone just as amazing and brilliant as his guide would be the one to pull him from the brink of death. He would later wake from his unconscious slumber, laying somewhere different but bandaged and semi-functioning while you sobbed in relief. You never told him what you did, but he trusted you enough to never ask- after all, he always woke up alive, didn’t he?

Alive and remembering your shaking voice as you pleaded with him not to fall victim to his injuries.

Wild hated your frightened tears but at least this time he could do something about it.

Looking at him, broken and afraid, he moved his hand to gently brush away the wetness cornering your eyes. “I’m here for you, (Name).”

You searched his gaze for hesitation but found only sincerity.

“Do you think you can stand?”

“Y..yeah…”

The blonde helped you to your feet gently, his arm careful around you until finally you could stand on your own shaky legs, fighting back the mental exhaustion of it all. The hero pulled his sword from his sheath with his free hand coming to grab your own before tugging you to follow after him quickly, eyes scanning the area then quietly jogging towards another corner.

Another body slammed right into the both of you.

Winded, you could only manage a yelp, falling back along with the wild hero who portrayed a wide eyed protective rage only to gape at the familiar sight of shaggy brown hair and eyes of emerald green with dusted brown as you all crashed down to the floor below, the other form jumping back in surprise.

Hyrule’s sigh of relief held what could have been mistaken for his soul returning to his form.

“(Name).”

“Rulie-” You were tackled, body almost constricted by his tight hug. “Hyrule- Link-”

“I’m sorry.” He rushed out, his face settled in your hair. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry we couldn’t stop it-”

“‘S’okay-” You sniffled but Hyrule’s shaking breath stopped you.

“It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“...I lost your dagger, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be silly, you’re more important than a measly blade.” You felt a tear drop into your hair, “So much more important.”

Your own hand came to gently brush his hair, brown curls engulfing your fingers as you worked to relax the tension out of his body. Your other hand still grasped Wild’s, squeezing gently at the digits to remind him that you hadn’t forgotten his presence, far from it. The reassurance was met with a grateful squeeze back.

“Come, we must go.” Once again you stood, the three of you a tight knit with the heroes still brandishing glinting swords. “Who knows where the Shadow could be-”

“There you are!” Hyrule flinched, turning back the way he came to see Warriors and Twilight jog down the hallway, only stopping once they had finally gotten closer- none looked please. “Traveller we’ll talk later about your selective hearing- Champion, (Name), are you alright?”

The Captain looked relieved but with an air of professionalism around him, standing tall with both his sword and shield pulled at the ready for combat. Twilight wasn’t quite sitting in the same boat- the anxiety blooming into relief at the sight of you but more so Wild, muttering a soft ‘thank the goddess’ under his breath before stalking closer to slap him upside the head.

“No more idiocy.”

Wild’s face showed understanding but his eyes sung a different chorus. “You and I have different definitions of what counts as idiotic.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“As I said, later,” Warriors insisted, turning back, “I saw an exit not much further back, we can meet the others outside and discuss any previous misgivings when we are whole-”

“There you are.”

Ice.

An icy chill filled the air around you as your stomach dropped right into a pit of despair, the hairs on the back of your neck standing with electrifying effort accompanied by the feeling of dread dragging a sharpened claw right up your spine.

You turned slowly in comparison to the heroes' snapping spins, swords and shields at the ready while staring with eyes of venom at the seeping shadows that curled round the corner of a following hallway at this crossroads of sorts. Darkness lurked, light from the hanging torches blown away by a haunting whispering wind as a murky blackness finally came into view with eyes of red and a mouth pulled to show rows of too many teeth.

How Nintendo had reduced Dink to something so puny was beyond you- he was fucking horrifying.

“Ah, and the heroes of Courage too- what a delight.” Too many voices, couldn’t he just choose one? You covered your ears like a frightened child. “Have you come to see the execution?”

“Shut your mouth, evil scum.” Hyrule hissed, “The only execution we’ll be witnessing is yours when I behead you-”

“Oh do quieten down, Hero of Hyrule, your words aren’t as impressive as you think.” Hyrule huffed in anger and the Shadow cackled, “Awh, have I upset you fairy boy?”

A phantom red sword flew through the air and Dink dodged with only another laugh, rolling with the darkness beneath his form.

“Oh, almost- better luck- hm? Never.”

From behind you, you felt a shift. Just the tiniest bit of movement but still it had you glancing back quizzically to Twilight, his form stiff and slightly…shaking as panicked eyes stayed focused on the monster in front of you all. You weren’t the only one to notice, however, Wild glancing back in slight concern with Warriors stepping closer to his brother in spirit.

Dink noticed too.

And he smiled wider.

“Hero of Twilight.” He cooed, words dripping honey that hissed and bubbled with underlying poison. “Awh, what’s wrong- seems as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Twilight’s sword shook in a sweating grip. “Shut your mouth-”

“Or maybe you’re just…” The shadows shifted for a moment and you swore you saw the glinting metal of an Iron Knuckle’s helmet staring right back at you. “...scared.”

Twilight’s ears folded back along with his steps, skin paling.

Warriors looked pissed. “Ranch-hand, do not-”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten you too, captain.”

Once again, Dink changed, yet this time a younger version of the Captain stared back.

Warrior’s tensed.

No. No you wouldn’t let this happen. No matter your own heart crushing fear you were not about to let this bastard do this to them. Dink could scare you as much as he wanted, threaten you and nearly end your life but you drew the line at the others, you would not let him scare these heroes just like he scared you.

Fucking bastard, using the weakness of others against them.

“I’ll fucking show you…” A muttered growl did not catch his attention, nor did your movement as you leaned down to grab the convenient crumbled brick just a little ways away then stand once again.

You did this lightning fast, not allowing even a moment of hesitation from you or consideration from them as you ditched the slab right at his face.

Surprised chokes left all of them as Dink yelped in pain then cursed, that same demonic growling from earlier leaving him. Despite his body merged in the darkness you could see the blood curl around his fingers as his hands desperately tried to cover the damaged eye that still glared molten scorn right at your figure.

“You litTLE BRAT!” You flinched at the rage but tightened your resolve, standing just before Warriors and Twilight so he would focus on you. “When I get my hands on you again I’ll tear you limb from limb-”

“I don’t think you can.” You were talking nonsense but you didn’t care. “I think you’re too fucking stupid to- I mean I got away once already, whose to say I can’t just do it again?”

You just loved tempting fate, didn’t you? Tempting her and the devil that she tangoed with as Dink’s pupils shrunk in a frenzied rage while his shadows whipped around him angrily, searching for something to break- something to destroy. Hyrule and Wild stepped a little closer together, acting as a shield in case those tendrils of shade got too close.

“Watch your tongue before I cut it out-”

This time the phantom sword struck and it struck hard, impaling right into the Shadow’s shoulder with a gorey ‘schlink’ that pinned him to the wall behind him. The monster shrieked, gargling in pain with volumes that raised and dropped, tones that lightened and deepened while his hand, holding his bleeding eye moved instead to grasp at his punctured shoulder.

There wasn’t much else of the scene to watch when you were thrown over someone’s shoulder and rushed away from it all. You tried turning to count heads and see who had grabbed you so quickly but when the sound of rushing footsteps caught your attention. You stared back at Dink who had sunken into the shadows that chased after you all, the light from the torches vanishing as the darkness caved in on the corridor and filled it with nothing but pitch black.

You could only see his eyes.

Haunting, raging eyes as they chased the five of you, stealing the solace of the light to take over with his gloom.

You were hypnotised by the morbid spectacle.

It was fast.

Really fast.

A quick turn almost gave you whiplash but you still watched him run, dementated as he slammed into the wall before shaking off his daze and crawling like a demon against the floor. Still no body, only shadow as you got closer and closer to a large brightness that hung behind you.

“Almost there!”

“Is it still chasing us!?”

“Dear Hylia in heaven-”

You felt its hatred. You felt its wrath. You felt its bloodlust and you felt your own fear crawling back down your spine. You imagined those scenes in horror movies, the eldritch abomination scrambling over itself as it frantically chased the poor victim through those darkened scenes- this is what it felt like. This was the dread those innocent people experienced.

You watched helplessly as claws reached out to grab you, infernal cursing catching your ears as its hand loosely missed your saviour’s shirt-

Light almost blinded you as you entered the outside world. The sun glaring down on your small group as they skidded to a stop just before falling right off a collapsing cliff side.

They turned instantly, swords still pulled and ready to fight, your body falling off the shoulder of Hyrule who looked murderous as he kept his sword pointed towards Dink.

The Shadow’s darkness took up the whole of the doorway, twitching and humming with a putrid magic as Dink just stood there. Watching you all with crimson eyes, with black ooze still dripping from one of his sockets along with the hole in his shoulder, he did nothing. Made no move, made no sound, the only thing he did was stare- right at you, centre of the group, burning and hate filled.

You didn’t understand why he didn’t move closer after all he did not burn in the sun. However, maybe the light still had an affect, the monster was a shadow after all and the two did not mix well- maybe this applied to Dink also?

Maybe four was too big of a crowd in the shine of the afternoon sun.

“Well!? What are you waiting for?!” Wild hissed, walking forward only to be grabbed by Twilight. “Fight us, monster!”

Dink’s glare moved to Wild, still just as sinister and vile before he turned back to the darkness and left you at that, standing there and viewing the ordeal with a growing confusion.

Was that…really it?

“Why did it just-”

“Doesn’t matter.” A soberness washed over Warriors, his eyebrows pinching. “If we are to fight him we need the Master Sword, let us return to the group-”

Hyrule’s face was plastered in disbelief. “And just leave that thing there!? It could get away-”

“What would you have us do, traveller!?” The captain looked frazzled, hair messy and eyes wild in contrast to his usual pristine presentation- Dink’s little trick must have gotten to him worse than you had expected. “The Shadow does not die by natural steel, the sword is our only hope!”

Wild looked just as desperate as Hyrule, spinning in Twilight’s grip “So we just leave the beast!? No, if one of us were to return to the others and bring them here-”

“If the beast is still watching us it would be sure to attack if we were alone.” Twilight tightened his hand, a reflex with the champion. “We return to the others whole and discuss a plan.”

“We need to attack while we still have him here!”

An argument bloomed with the men, voices raising along with hands waving but it slowly muffled out the longer that you stood there, eyes still focused on that shaded hallway of trickery and pain.

You had almost died.

The words echoed around your head like a siren in the foggy night, screeching, painful, and anxiety inducing as it clawed at the inner walls of your mind. Scratched in by bloodied fingers of a madman, his fingertips soaked with crimson as he muttered the words like a cruel mantra.

“Dead. Death,” He sung, with a jolly preen, his eyes bloodshot with a lust for pain. “Dying. Suffering. Murdered. Brutalised. Slain. Killed.”

Your breaths became pants. Your pants became chokes. Your chokes became hyperventilating as tears streamed down your face. Clutching desperately at your chest, you frantically heaved for air as your knees buckled beneath you and you fell to the earth below. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t speak, only cry and shake as you tried forcing sound to leave you. A whimper. A moan. A word. Hell, a laugh. Yet nothing seemed to break free.

Digging your nails into the position where your heart pounded, you twisted your hand in a motion, attempting to tear it out. It didn’t work, it wasn’t doing its damn job- better it laid in the dirt with the insects than inside you if it would only serve to be damaged goods.

Nonetheless, you finally managed something. Moments of struggling dragged into hours of torture finally minimalised when you sucked in a massive portion of air, body arching from the pain as you forced it into your lungs.

And you screamed.

Ears ringing as it progressed from a small yell to a blood-curdling wail, voice refusing to break as you tore your throat to let out everything you had bottled down in that last horrible hour.

It had only been an hour.

Your head slammed against the dirt, body curling into itself as you felt your throat grow raw from the excessive shriek. A violent reaction, a bubble ran up your throat and you gagged, pushing yourself higher and hurling your digested breakfast all over the ground, scrunching your watering eyes shut in an effort to avoid the scene of acid and chunks sullying the earth.

Hands reached you, your name being called but it didn’t stop the repeat of gags and sobs.

Your body finally gave out.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #lu #linked universe imagine #player au #a player's aid

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breannasfluff · 1 year

Text

The pup is dirty. Twilight rolls his eyes in a very unwolf-like manner as Wild lopes into the clearing, covered in mud and…choo choo jelly? What does he get up to?

Dirty, he barks at Wild, who only shakes away the admonishment. Fine, time for backup. Alpha?

Time opens one eye from his nap and raises his head to sniff the air. Bath, he says and Twilight is vindicated.

No! No bath! Wild flops to the grass and rolls, which removes some of the muck but doesn’t make him smell any better.

Time sends a look at Twilight, who moans and drags himself up on his paws. Why is cleaning the cub his job?

He doesn’t mind—not really, but bath time for Wild also means bath time for Twilight, whether he wants it or not.

Come, wash!

No! Wild rolls further, limbs flailing.

Grabbing a sleeve, Twilight tugs him up. Silly, hurry up! Alpha says.

Alpha isn’t taking a bath. Wild allows himself to be herded, but he grumbles the whole way.

Alpha clean, he points out. The cub ignores him, switching to muttering in broken hylian.

The bath goes about as well as expected; in that Wild splashes in the river too much and Twilight has to fish him out by his tunic. He shakes, ignoring the other’s yelps of complaint. By the three goddesses, he just got out of a river!

Time’s in the same spot when they get back and Twilight rumbles a low complaint at being wet as he stalks by.

Alpha! Clean! Wild throws himself at Time and Twilight smirks as their leader ends up damp himself.

Off, off!

Wild giggles and flops over Time’s golden back without moving. Warm, he hums.

Soft-hearted traitor that he is, Time lets him stay.

They’re an odd trio; two of them stuck as wolves, but the chance to watch over a new hero makes it worth it.

Twilight had Time’s support on his journey, earning the nickname Pup. Wild was Pup to Twilight, but also Cub. Or maybe, Forever Testing My Patience to Time. The amount of hair brained ideas the kid gets; they’re working overtime to keep him alive and on his journey.

The hot afternoon sun dries them all quickly. Time finally shakes Wild off, ignoring the grumble as he slides to the dirt and loping off to hunt.

Stay, Twilight instructs, standing to follow him. Stay!

Wild sticks out his tongue, but settles into the grass with his head on a swivel. The area is safe, but Wild attracts trouble with uncanny frequency.

Twilight braves the river shallows for a fish, while Time surprises a sleeping crane in the nearby reeds. They both return with their jaws full.

Good hunting, Time says with a bump of his furry shoulder.

Twilight can’t stop his tail wagging at the praise.

Wild’s head whips in their direction as they return and tension eases from his frame. Worry, worry, safe? Good hunting?

Time drops the bird carcass and noses Wild’s hand until he drops to a crouch. Pack safe, cub.

Wild chews over Hylian words like a bone, until they have no meaning by the time they leave his mouth. Time gives a questioning whine.

Miss you, miss pack, he finally admits, flopping and rolling at their leader’s feet.

Silly, not gone long. Still, Time licks Wild’s face until his ear flicks and he snorts, spirit bouncing back.

Twilight joins them, adding his own sloppy kisses until the cub yowls and bats him away.

Retrieving the bird, Time drops it in Wild’s lap. Eat.

He shakes his head and pushes it away. Alpha eats first.

There’s no way Time is letting Wild ignore his own needs. He’s skinny enough already; constantly moving and burning energy as he scrambles up and down hills and ruins alike.

The bird is dropped in Wild’s lap again and Time’s hackles raise slightly. Eat.

The cub’s ears lower, even though they both know Time isn’t actually angry. With a sigh he takes the bird and moves to the side, calling a knife from his slate to begin hacking at it.

Twilight winces at the lack of skill; with the limited vocabulary of a wolf he can’t instruct Wild on how to pluck and prepare a bird properly.

A heavy weight settles next to him as Time joins him, giving his ear a lick of hello. They both watch Wild spread feathers and blood across the grass. If he’s not careful he’s going to need another bath.

Twilight can’t help but subtly lean his weight into his mentor, closing his eyes and relaxing as evening steals the light from the sky.

Time gives a reassuring rumble and watches over them both.

Next>>

#linked universe #lu wild #lu twilight #lu time #lu wolfie #feral wild #feral link #botw

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avastrasposts · 11 months

Text

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 14

I'm sorry. Please feel free to yell at me.

Warnings Contain spoilers

Word count: 5.7k Chapter 15

You start pulling on your clothes as you come back from the bathroom, Frankie is already wrapped up in the bed sheets, half asleep as he pries open an eye to look at you.

“I was thinking we should maybe not both sleep at the same time,” you say, reaching down for your boots. Frankie loses his sleepy look almost immediately and shoots up in bed, but you’re already holding your palm up to him.

“I’m taking the first watch, Frankie, no arguments. You didn’t sleep last night, I did, albeit behind the couch, but still. You need to sleep because to be frank, we’re gonna need you alert tomorrow more than me.”

“Cariño…” he starts to protest but you physically push him down onto the bed with your hands on his shoulders, and he lets you topple him over.

“Sleep, Frankie, I’m going to be outside the door, you’ll hear me shout if anything happens.”

He looks up at you, trying to find an argument for taking the whole watch himself, but his brain is scrambled by adrenaline and sleep deprivation. The post-orgasm hormones don’t help either.

“Leave the door open, wake me at three,” is all he manages before you kiss his lips and stroke his cheek, you swear he’s already asleep by the time you leave the room.

Staying awake was harder than you thought, sitting on one of the bar stools by the kitchen counter stops you from dozing off, but you still feel like your jaw is going to pop as you yawn widely. Your gun is on the counter in front of you as you study the ring Frankie slipped onto your finger. The delicate gold band is thin, three simple diamonds set in a row, with room, you notice, for more diamonds along the band. You know Frankie isn’t the kind of guy to spend three months pay on a ring just so that it’s as big as possible, he would pick the ring that meant something to him and make it mean something to you too. You run your fingers over the diamonds, three in a row, you’ll have to ask him tomorrow.

At three am you gently walk into the bedroom to wake Frankie, but he sleeps too lightly, your footsteps wake him up and he shoots up in bed.

“It’s ok, Frankie,” you say in a low voice, “It’s three am.”

“Ok,” he rumbles, his voice rough with sleep as he rubs the heel of his hand into his eyes. You pull off your boots and crawl into bed with your clothes on next to Frankie. He catches your chin between his thumb and fingers, giving you a slow kiss, before letting go.

When you wake up a few hours later daylight is starting to slip through the shutters of the window. Frankie’s hand is on your shoulder, gently shaking you.

“Hermosa, time to wake up,” he murmurs as he bends and presses his lips to your temple. “The night was quiet and I made coffee.”

“Thank you,” you mumble and push the covers back, sitting up as Frankie hands you a mug.

You drink it while you get ready, which only means you put your boots back on and stick the gun into the back of your trousers. Frankie’s heated up another can of stew from Denny’s supplies and you both eat it in silence. You’re apprehensive about leaving the safety and quiet of the cabin and move back into populated areas, but you can see Frankie’s nerves too. His jaw is clenched as he goes through both your packs, swapping out some of the food for Denny’s supplies. As soon as you put down your spoon into the empty bowl he grabs it from you and starts readying up to leave.

“We should leave a note for Pope or anyone else who comes here,” you say and Frankie nods.

“Yeah, I did already,” he points to a folded piece of paper on the dining room table, “Read it and tell me if it makes sense.”

You pick it up and flip it open, reading Frankie’s neat handwriting;

September 29th

To anyone of the guys

My girl and I are safe up here for now. We’re heading to L’s place today. Pope was here on the 27th, also went for L but hasn’t returned yet.

We’ll return here when we have L, hope to see you all safe.

Catfish

You fold it up and put it back on the table, “Looks good to me, I really hope they’re all here when we get back,” you say, looking over at Frankie who’s picked up your backpack and walked over to you with it.

“Yeah, I really hope so too,” he replies as he helps you on with the pack, turning you around and adjusting the straps before he pulls your gun from behind your back.

“I made you this while I was keeping watch,” he holds up a makeshift leg holster. “You can’t wear a regular holster with a backpack on and you won’t be able to get the gun from behind the pack, and I don’t want you walking around with the gun in your hand.”

He kneels down and straps it to your thigh, using a snap-link to attach it to your belt. “Denny had a couple of old holsters for his hunting gear so I repurposed them.” He’s got a similar holster on his leg, his gun already in it and now he slides your gun into yours.

“Feel good?” he asks, looking up at you from the floor, tugging on the holster, making sure it’s not too tight.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure how much use I’ll be, Frankie, I’ve never even fired a gun.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to but I can’t show you, I don’t know when we’ll get more bullets,” he gets up and gives your backpack a final look over, “Denny didn’t keep any guns or ammo up here so we’ll have to grab any that we find.”

Once outside the cabin, Frankie locks up and puts the key back into the lock box before turning towards the lake.

“There are a couple of canoes down by the small boat house,” he says, “we can use one of them to get across the lake, saves us walking around it, we’re heading in that direction.”

You nod and follow him down the gentle slope to the lake, the morning is calm and quiet, and again you’re struck by how normal everything feels. If it wasn’t for the slightly heavy feeling in your stomach, a small hot ball of anxiety, you’d think it was just Frankie and you heading out for a couple of days camping.

The trip over the lake is smooth and when you get to the other side, about a mile from the cabin, you get the packs out before Frankie paddles the canoe into some thick, tall reeds to camouflage it as much as possible. Luckily it’s an old wood canoe and it all but disappears into the reeds.

Frankie glances down at his compass, attached to his belt, and motion for you to follow him. You’ve agreed to speak as little as possible and move quietly. There probably won’t be any infected out here but Frankie doesn’t want to take any chances. So in silence you walk behind him for three hours, stopping when he holds up his hand, checking his direction or listening intently. At one point he signals for you to stop and crouch and as you sink down behind a bush, you hear rustling in the shrubs ahead. Your skin goes cold as you mimic Frankie’s movement and pull out your gun, moving it slowly out of your leg holster. The rustling continues, coming closer until, finally, you see the source of the sound, a white tail deer, slowly ambling through the forest, nibbling at leaves here and there as it goes. You let your breath out slowly, as Frankie stands up, startling the deer enough to make it prance away into the underbrush.

At the three hour mark Frankie finds a good spot for a break, a small stream that lets you refill your water bottles. Stretching out your legs on the ground, your back against a large boulder, you try to savor your lunch sandwich. Frankie sinks down next to you and gives you a little nudge with his shoulder.

“How you holding up, cariño?” he asks in a low voice.

“I’m alright, just jumpy,” you reply, leaning your head on his solid shoulder for a little bit. He caresses your cheek with his warm palm and you feel his lips press into the top of your head before he begins to unwrap his sandwich.

After lunch you get even jumpier, you’re still following hiking trails through the forest but every now and then you have to cross main roads, you start seeing houses, you even skirt around a small town. In the distance you see a group of people, you can’t tell if they’re infected or not, but as Frankie leads the two of you in a wide circle around the group, you keep watching them. They don’t move and you think they’re too unnaturally still for humans.

Just as you’ve managed to clear a small ridge and put some distance between yourself and them, a loud collective shriek goes up from the group of people. Frankie immediately grabs you and pulls you down into the tall grass next to the trail. It feels like your heart is going to claw itself out of your chest as you feel Frankie’s weight on top of you, he’s half covered you with his body. You glance up at his face and you see him carefully lift his head out of the tall grass.

“It’s ok, they’re running, but in the other direction,” he whispers and pulls you up. In a crouch Frankie starts to jog down the other side of the ridge, holding on to your hand as you run to keep up with him. You continue running until your lungs are about to give up and Frankie slows down but starts walking next to you, keeping a brutal pace, still holding onto your hand.

“We need to get away from them as fast as possible, we can’t fight that many on foot,” he pants, giving your hand another squeeze.

Not until you’ve covered about three miles does he slow down to a regular pace, you’re drenched in sweat and breathing hard, your legs aching. He pulls you off the side of the trail you’ve been following, into the forest and behind a thick shrub.

“Sit down,” he motions, pointing to the ground, “catch your breath and drink some water.”

You gratefully sink down and pull out your water bottle while Frankie remains standing.

“We’re about half a mile from the bridge and the river crossing,” he says, looking at the map. “We need to be extra careful as we approach, if people in this area were trying to get away from any towns they’d probably have to cross there which means a potential traffic jam and potentially infected.”

You nod and sip the water, offering Frankie your bottle when you’re done. He gratefully takes a long swig while you get back to your feet. You’re still exhausted after the sprint but you want to keep moving. The countryside around you makes you nervous, there are small farms dotted across it, three days ago you would’ve thought it looked quaint and rural, now the sight of every farm house makes you edgy.

Putting away your water bottle, you follow Frankie back to the trail and after a short time it emerges from the forest onto a large country road, up ahead you can see the bridge. As Frankie had feared, it’s jammed with cars. You can walk between them, but the thought of what might be hiding among them makes panic claw its way up your throat and you take a tight hold of Frankie’s hand. He looks back and sees the fear in your eyes. Pulling you back into the trees he wraps his arms around you. Holding you tight to his chest for a minute, he pulls back and cups your cheeks, his large hands are warm and dry on your skin, as he kisses you deeply before he looks down at you and traces his fingers over your lips.

“I’m sorry, cariño, it’s the only way forward.” His eyes rake over your face as if he’s committing it to memory and you suddenly realize what he’s doing.

“Don’t say goodbye, Frankie,” you croak, your voice catching in your throat.

“Just in case, mi amor,” he says in a low voice, pressing his lips to yours again. When he pulls back he turns and takes your hand, leading you back to the road where he lets go of it.

“Stay six feet behind me, gun out, safety off, but keep it pointed to the ground. If you have to fire, squeeze the trigger, don’t pull it.” He gives you a final look, a small smile, before turning back to the road.

It’s slow going, following Frankie’s lead you move carefully in his footsteps, trying to make as little noise as possible. Frankie stops and surveys the cars in front of you regularly but nothing seems out of the ordinary, you see no humans, only open car doors, luggage that’s been left behind.

As you’ve crossed about two thirds of the bridge a dog suddenly launches itself at the cage door keeping it shut in, barking loudly from inside a large SUV. Frankie and you both drop into a crouch, trying to see if the loud noise will draw in any infected, but the dog quietens down and the landscape around the bridge remains silent. You breathe a sigh of relief as Frankie carefully stands up again and motions for you to follow him. He carefully approaches the dog in the cage, a golden retriever you think, mumbling soft words to it, calming it down. Soon the dog is licking his fingers through the bars of the cage and Frankie slides back the lock, opening the door. The dog jumps down, its tail happily wagging as you scratch its ears.

“Good boy,” you mumble, patting its flank as Frankie starts moving forward again. You give the dog a final scratch before you follow him towards the end of the bridge. The dog trails behind you for a while before it falls behind, going back to the SUV.

As you get to the end of the bridge Frankie holds his hand up, signaling for you to stop. He points to the last pillar of the bridge, written on it, in what looks like black magic marker, are the letters SOF, underneath is a rectangle with a single line through the middle and the number 1 just outside the box.

“Special Operations Force,” Frankie says, “Pope’s been through here but he’s alone. The rectangle means he’s motorized.” He walks over to the pillar, pulling a marker from his side pocket and crouching down he writes SOF underneath Pope’s message, but he adds an odd looking cross underneath, two sides are flat and two are rounded. Then he writes ‘2’ next to it.

“Special Operations Aviation,” he explains while he stands up and puts the marker away. “I don’t think any of the other guys will come past here but if Pope comes back the same way he’ll see that we’ve been here.”

You continue down the road, it’s still about an hour's walk to Lucía’s house and you’re forced to stay on the road, there are no hiking trails leading in the right direction. Frankie’s head is on a swivel, his gun drawn as you both walk off to the side of the road, creating some distance between yourselves and the cars. There are less of them now, and up ahead you can see an almost clear road. You crest a hill in the road, carefully trying to see over to the other side before you’re too exposed, when a pickup truck just ahead rumbles to life and barrels towards you with a screech of tires. Frankie grabs your hand and pulls you behind one of the few cars on the road, his gun aimed at the truck. “They’ve got to be ok, right Frankie?” you say, his hand still holding you down behind the car. “Infected can’t drive!”

“Stay down, cariño,” he snaps, his eyes focused on the truck. You hear it come to a stop and the engine goes silent as the doors are opened. Frankie lets go of you and grabs his gun with both hands. You turn and peek over the bonnet of the car and see two men get out, staying behind the doors of the truck, as another two jump down from the flatbed.

“You know how to use that gun, sonny?” the oldest man calls from behind the driver’s door. He’s big and burly looking, a cowboy hat squashed down on a very round head.

“Sure,” Frankie calls back, shifting his stance.

“Why don’t you lower it and toss it over here. And any gun your cute girl might be carrying.” The man’s voice is saccharine and makes your neck hairs stand on end, you glance up at Frankie and see the muscle in his jaw working.

“We’re just passing through, trying to get to some friends, we don’t want any trouble.”

“Then why you pointing a gun at me, son?” The older man looks over his shoulder and nods at the two men who got off the truck and they slowly move to the sides, circling the two of you.

“Cariño, get your gun up and stand behind me, aim at the man on the left,” Frankie says in a low voice, his eyes never leaving the older man. You do as he says, trying to have a steady grip on the gun to keep your hands from shaking. Copying Frankie’s stance, you hold your gun in both hands, your feet apart and steady, aiming at the man on the left. With a thumb you flick the safety off and draw a deep breath.

“Steady there, girlie,” the old man drawls, as he sees you move, holding up a hand to stop the two men. “Son, you don’t want to do anything stupid and get your girl in trouble here.” He moves out from behind the car door, and from the corner of your eye you see the rifle he’s holding low in his hands. “We’re just out here making sure no one’s looting these cars, especially of any guns they might find.”

“These guns are mine, like I said, we’re just passing through.” Frankie calls back through gritted teeth. You can hear the sharp tone in his voice as his eyes flick from the man in the cowboy hat and the man still standing behind the passenger side door.

“You’re outnumbered, pal,” the man on the right calls out with a chuckle, “just hand over the guns and any supplies, and we’ll let you pass.”

“Might keep your girl though,” the man on your left drawls, the man you’ve got your gun aimed at, he’s eyeing you with a smirk on his face that makes your skin crawl. “She’s shaking like a leaf but I bet she’d put up a nice little fight.”

Frankie glances over at the man on the left, before he looks back at the man in the cowboy hat, he’s got a crooked smile on his lips as he shoulders the rifle.

“C’mon, sonny, the guns and the girl, and then you can walk away.”

Frankie’s gun is loud on the silent road, and the man in the cowboy hat crumples over, his shot going wide as the rifle hits the ground. The man on the left throws himself forward and you feel the recoil in your arms as you fire, you don’t even know if your bullets hit, you can hear several shots from Frankie’s gun and your own, and Frankie’s hand on your shoulder as he pushes you to the ground. Two more shots ring out and Frankie ducks behind the car, his gun raised, listening. When nothing stirs he quickly glances over the bonnet before he stands up. Three of the men are dead on the ground, the fourth one, the one behind the passenger door, is scrabbling for something and with a few long steps, Frankie is on him, kicking the gun out of his reach.

He’s on the ground, you can see him beneath the door, Frankie towering above him, his gun aimed at the man. As you watch, the man lifts his palms up, pleading, but the shot rings out and the man slumps back. Frankie bends down and picks up the man’s gun, quickly patting him down and fishing an ammo box from his pants. When he straightens up and walks back towards you his face is impassive, blank and you remember when you last saw that look; the bar that night you thought Frankie was a violent man. Now you know, he is violent, but only when he needs to and for now, you’re very grateful for his skills.

You put your hands out to push yourself off the ground and a burning pain shoots through your shoulder, wincing you get to your feet and look at your torn shirt. Blood is seeping through and you suddenly feel faint. Frankie is on you in two fast steps, grabbing your arm and pulling back your shirt.

“You’re hit,” his voice suddenly sharp with worry, as his gentle fingers push at the fabric, making you wince again. He unbuttons your shirt and pulls it over your shoulder. “Thank god,” he breathes out as he sees the shallow gash, “you’ve been grazed, it didn’t go in.” He pulls up his arm as if he’s about to pull his backpack off but changes his mind.

“Come here, get in the truck,” he guides you over to the passenger side, “close your eyes, don’t look,” he mumbles as you have to step over the corpse. You breathe in deeply and keep your eyes closed until Frankie closes the door. He bends down to pick up the other man’s rifle, putting it behind the bench seat, before he gets in and starts up the engine. It rumbles to life and Frankie turns it around, heading back down the almost empty road, and as soon as he sees a secluded spot he pulls over and kills the engine.

“I’ve got to clean your arm, cariño,” says, opening up his backpack for the first aid kit. “Does it hurt?” He looks over at you, his eyes are worried and you shake your head to calm him.

“Only a little, it stings more than anything.”

“Ok, just keep breathing in and out while I do this.”

The iodine solution makes you whimper but Frankie is fast and efficient, when the compress is on your shoulder the pain is already subsiding. He pulls your shirt back on, gives you a soft kiss, cradling the back of your head with his large hand.

“You ok?” he asks in a low voice, “not just the injury, with what just happened too?”

You let out a shuddering breath as you allow yourself to think about the situation, “I’m very glad you used to be a soldier, Frankie,” you say, leaning your forehead against his, “I think that’s the fourth time you’ve saved my life in twenty four hours.”

“Me too,” he breathes, his thumb is caressing your cheek as he looks at you. His deep brown eyes are strained, but calm, “Things are going to get worse before they get better, cariño. I’ve seen it before, when society crumbles, it brings out the worst in people and they become very dangerous. I need you and Lucía safe at the cabin until we know things are getting back to normal, whenever that might be.”

You nod and he turns back to the wheel and starts up the truck, “At least we got a truck out of it, this will make things easier as long as we have gas.”

The truck rumbles through the landscape, in the distance you see a group of infected running towards something but the road curves and you move away from them. Frankie has driven this road hundreds of times, every time he came to pick up or drop off Lucía, and now he wonders at how eerily still it is. There are no people as the truck drives past the first few houses of the small town, cars line the main street but they’ve been pushed to the side. The dents and scrapes on them indicate that something big came through and shoved them out of the way.

Frankie turns down a smaller side street, and then another small street, coming to the end of town. There are a few cars still parked outside the houses but most are gone. You glance over at him, his fingers are drumming on the steering wheel as his restless eyes bounce around the street, looking for infected, people, anything. He’s grinding his teeth, the muscle in his jaw flexing and when he pulls up outside a small bungalow you hear his white knuckles make the steering wheel creak.

“This is their place,” he says in a low voice, “the car is still here.” He opens the truck door and steps down, listening for any movement as you follow him out. Pulling his gun he moves carefully up the porch and tests the handle on the door, it’s locked.

“Stay by the truck,” he says to you, “if anything happens, if anyone comes, fire once in the air, ok?”

You nod and do as he says. Frankie carefully walks down the side of the house, easily scaling the wooden fence that closes off the backyard. He disappears from view and you nervously wait, looking around the quiet neighborhood. When he opens the door to the house from the inside you jump but he holds up his hand in a placating sign, signaling for you to stay where you are. He disappears into the house again, you guess this means Lucía isn’t here, and neither is anyone else.

You hear him walking through the house and before long he comes back out, a note in his hand.

“They’ve been evacuated,” he says, showing you the note from Lucía’s mom. It’s dated the day before yesterday, Saturday, the note says the soldiers came at night and gave them fifteen minutes to pack up essentials.

“She says they told her they’re going to a quarantine zone in Franklin. I’ve got to see if I can get them out of there.” He breathes a sigh of relief, “At least they’re safe for now.” he says, getting back into the truck and starting it up.

As the truck rumbles through town you start seeing more infected, they stumble out of a few of the shops, attracted to the sound of the truck. At one intersection you see a large number of them fallen into a pile, bullet wounds to their heads, and you quickly look away. Their pallid skin, starting to show strange looking lesions, no longer looks human, but their clothes are still bright and colorful, reminds you terribly of the people who would’ve put them on, maybe on Friday morning, expecting just another day.

Frankie speeds up, leaving town, and the shrieking infected behind, heading for Franklin. It’s less than an hour away, the nearest big city, and like before you see the cars pushed to the side of the road. Frankie’s fingers are drumming on the steering wheel again, his grip tight, his jaw clenched. He’s getting closer to Lucía, now he knows she’s safe, he just needs to get to her.

“When we get to the quarantine zone, do you think we should stay there?” you ask him. “It doesn’t sound like a ‘quarantine zone’ is somewhere they’ll let you in and out of. Maybe it’ll be safer for us there too?”

“I don’t know,” Frankie says, glancing over at you, “I need to see it first, how are they quarantining people? Keeping them separate enough so that if someone is already infected, they can’t attack and infect more people?” His fingers drum faster against the wheel, “I just need to see her, see her safe.”

You put your hand on his leg and give it a squeeze and he drops his hand, curling his fingers around yours.

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Still stings a bit, but it’s dulled, hurts when I move it.” You test moving your arm up and down, feeling the pull of the compress.

“It’ll give you gnarly looking scar,” he grins, “match some of mine.” He pulls your hand up to his lips and gives it a kiss, his eyes leaving the road for a second. When he looks back again he sees birds circling up ahead.

“Buzzards,” he points them out to you. “Looks like they’re circling just over the road.” He slows down the truck as you come around a bend, clearing a small group of trees. The rumble of the truck startles the birds and you see more of them rise into the sky from the field bordering the road. Frankie stops the truck, leaving it in neutral, watching the birds circle, waiting to see if something moves. When nothing stirs he opens the door, signaling for you to stay put, and he steps on to the instep of the truck, hoisting himself up so that he can look over the door of the truck.

“Oh fuck…” you hear him breathe out.

“What, Frankie, what is it?” you ask but he doesn’t answer so you open your own door and swing yourself up on the instep. Frankie glances back at you and motions for you to get back inside.

“Cariño, don’t, you don’t wanna- “

It’s too late, you look over the field, it looks like almost a hundred people are lying in it, none of them moving. The buzzards are settling back down, walking across the still bodies.

“Oh my god…” you gasp, your hand going over your mouth as your eyes widen in horror. “What killed them?” you whisper, “are they infected?”

“Get into the driver’s seat,” he says, “I’m going closer but I need you to be ready to drive if they are infected.”

“I’m not leaving without you, Frankie!” you say in a hard voice, as you slide over the bench seat and get behind the wheel.

“I’m counting on it, cariño,” he grips your hand before jumping down onto the ground. Grabbing the rifle from the back he loads it before he starts moving slowly towards the field.

You step up onto the instep on the driver’s side, watching Frankie’s back as he makes his way across the road and into the field. As he reaches the first body he crouches down and seems to inspect them. Nothing moves, none of the bodies are jerking, they’re just dead. He stands up again and walks around the outskirts of where they’ve fallen. Suddenly he stops, slinging the rifle onto his back, before he steps into the mass of bodies, he must be stepping on them as he bends down and pulls at one of them, turning it over to face him. He stumbles back, losing his footing and falls onto his back among the bodies.

Without thinking you jump down from the truck and run to him, grabbing hold of his arm as he scrambles to stand up, getting away from the bodies.

“It’s Helena, she’s the mom of Lucía’s best friend,” he pants, standing up. You look over at the blonde woman, her open eyes looking sightless to the sky. Her torso has at least three bullet holes in the pale blue shirt she’s wearing, blood staining the light fabric dark.

“They lived across the street from Lucía,” Frankie croaks and you suddenly realize what he’s saying, gripping his arm hard.

He tears himself away from you as he starts circling around the bodies, crouching down, looking under those who have fallen on top of others, his eyes desperately scanning every face, every piece of visible clothing, looking for something he recognizes, praying he doesn’t. His heart is racing, his vision narrows into one long tunnel, focused on the bodies, praying, cursing, he can’t hear you call after him.

And then he sees it.

The hem of a dress he’d know anywhere because her abuela made it for her.

With a shout he steps into the mass of bodies. You rush up behind him, tears are welling up into your eyes, as you watch him scramble over to the small body. Skinny little legs in sneakers you bought for her birthday, you bite down hard on your lip to stop yourself from wailing.

The dress is sticking out from underneath a woman, and as he gets closer he realizes it’s his ex-girlfriend, her arms hugging her daughter tight, even in death. The back of her tan coat is dark with coagulated blood that sticks to his hands as he bends back her arms to release her grip. As he shoves her aside a strangled cry goes up from the small body underneath, Lucia’s head moves as a rattled breath escapes her lungs and Frankie cries out in relief, grabbing hold of her waist to gently turn her over, scanning her body for injuries, he sees no blood on her.

“Mija, I’m here, I’m here,” he gasps, “daddy’s here, Lucía, I’m here.”

He’s holding out his arms to lift her up when he sees it.

Trailing under the skin of her small throat.

Up under the pallid skin of her cheeks, spreading out in a fine net.

Tendrils reaching out from her small mouth.

“Frankie!” you cry as the small body shrieks and reaches for him. He almost takes her hand, almost takes the small hand that’s grasping after his. You can see it, even from behind him, you can see the empty eyes, the twitching movement.

Infected.

His hand is still in the air, halfway to reaching out for her, his Lucía, her hand outstretched to him. As she screams, his hand drops to his gun.

You turn your head when the gunshot rings out.

Chapter 15

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