#I need to go into the woods and scream for 3 days straight

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[We went on shopping (it didn’t go well)] - TF141*F!Reader

not a chapter actually just a rambling, it's kinda messy and not my style imo, pls feel free to skip this etc. might rewrite this shit when I have time since I’m busy with my job these days and I just accidentally sliced my thumb open making it difficult to type, hence not much to provide sorry :( and the weird stranger incident in the latter part did happen irl damn it’s creepy af, but I was the one telling them to fuck off tho (they harassing my cute friend RAGE)

Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)

Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

After your car graduates from its car life in about a week, congratulations, the poor shelf accompanies you since your college life is finally undone, fragments spreading across the floor making you shout Mama and mourn for its graduation.

You don’t have a car right now, so when Gaz offers to drive you to buy a new shelf, you agree to his suggestion without a second thought. Yet when the day comes and you open the car door, only to be greeted by the wide smile of Soap and Gaz, you almost slam the door close in reflex.

“Okay, but why do all of you come together? this isn’t an elementary school field trip!” You gawk at them when you squeeze in the car.

“Sounds fun, how can ye not tell us?” 

“Gaz I thought you could seal your lips!”

“Sorry love, Ghost exchanged it with some goodies.”

Oh yeah, Ghost is sitting in the driver’s seat.

Wait, he’s sitting in the driver's seat?

“Goddamnit—“ Your scream dies out on your tongue when said man puts his foot down. 

Ghost does a good job at providing you the same experience as riding a rollercoaster, glad that you didn’t throw up in the car and arrived at the warehouse without dying. If he's your Uber driver, you will give him five stars and block the hell out of him. 

You hop out of the car and walk to the door. As the automatic door parts after sensing your presence, you feel much better when the cold air of the store. Nice a.c. is one of the important features of a nice store, and you already built a fondness for the warehouse with how refreshing the chilly air is inside.

The first area welcoming you is food. Not bad, 6 out of 10 if it needs to be precise. Gaz pushes the cart and follows you as you saunter to the aisle with cereals.

“Oh, they have my favorite brand.” You murmur to him as your eyes travel across the price tag.

Wait, you must still be dizzy because no way it’s 30% cheaper than the same one you just bought from the supermarket.

“Kyle, it says it’s 3 pounds, right?!” pointing at the tag, your voice raises a whole eight-tone with excitement.

“Yes?”

“Good.”

5 boxes of cereal are added to the cart. 

Actually, 9.9 out of 10 for this place, you fix the evaluation as you watch Gaz putting some of those ten bags of chocolate Ghost and Soap dump into the cart back on the shelf, and as a little revenge to Gaz for letting the other two men join the trip without you knowing, you choose to turn a blind eye when you spot Ghost sneaking all of them back in the cart.

Not forgetting the primary goal for today, you go straight to the furniture area after letting Soap throw five packs of gummy bears in the cart and convincing Ghost not to get a cup of tea from the random tea shop. You’ll make a much better one for him when you get home — you coo when he stares at you with unhappy eyes not covered by the mask, glad that he seems to accept the idea, so he huffs and lets you drag him and Soap out of the food area.

“You should buy this.” 

“Ghost I don’t need a green shelf in my shop thank you.”

“Then ye should buy this bonnie!”

“That’s not even a goddamn shelf, Soap.”

“How about this?” 

Your eyes brighten up when Gaz shows you a wooden shelf, it’s stripped-back, with not many decorations, but it surely will fit wonderfully into your store with its aesthetic vibes and high functionality, thus you pick up your phone to type down the product number immediately.

“Oh my, Kyle, you’re the best.”

and you’re too busy typing the numbers down that you don’t notice him shooting the others a taunt of victory.

The last area before the cashier’s counter sets a bookshop. You don’t plan on buying books, but you indeed need to go to the bathroom, so you dismiss yourself and tell them to look around before you’re done.

Why are the bathrooms always hidden in a bloody long hallway? What if someone can’t hold back during their way? Your footsteps echo through the corridor as your mind starts hitting you with a fresh and unnecessary question, glad that you aren’t that urgent though, so you’re able to get to the destination without wetting your pants.

Washing your hands, you step back to the hallway again, but you yelp in surprise when you bump into someone.

“Sorry!” You nod at the man and start heading back to the bookstore.

but it’s weird, the man you just bump into walks so close to you, that you suddenly realize he’s just a step behind you.

Hey, don’t panic, might just coincidence, you try to tell yourself as you make another step.

“Hey, lovely.” Okay, it’s not a coincidence, fucking hell. You curse when his hand touches your shoulder and stops you.

“Sorry for bumping into you, Sir. Anything that I can help?”

“No, I’m waiting for you to separate from the blokes for a while can’t ask for your phone number when they surround you like dogs.”

“I don’t give strangers my number, sorry.” You try to leave, but the man’s hand grabs your shoulder forcefully preventing you from moving.

“Hey, give us a chance yeah? I’m sure we will have some nice time together.”

“I don’t fucking know you!”

Prying off his hand, you turn and start walking fast, almost running when you hear the stranger’s footsteps coming towards you.

Fuck fuck fuck, you haven’t run with such desperation in years, last time must be high school.

“Who the fok are ye arsehole?”

The tears prickling in your eyes when you hear Soap’s voice ringing in your ears before you feel a pair of warm hands drag you behind him.

“Ghost and Soap will deal with him, let’s go.”

Adrenaline pumping through your body finally subsides when Soap and Ghost reappear from the hallway, you don’t want to know what happened to the stranger, maybe hope they’re still alive and in one piece so you won’t involve yourself in another chaos, 

“I think it’s time to go home, Kyle. Is it okay?”

“Of course, wanna grab some food before we leave?”

“I guess Ghost already bought sufficient chocolate for us.”

A burst of laughter catches your attention whilst Gaz looking at the cart with bags of chocolate stuffing under your cereals with disbelief, and a smile crawls back to your lips as you look at Ghost slamming his forehead against a lower door frame and Soap laughing over him.

They aren’t that bad, maybe, or they reserve the remnants of tenderness for you, you’re not sure whether is correct, but at least they have your back when you need them, and that’s enough for you to stop exploring the answer for now.

“Oh.” A book gets knocked off when you shift to stand up. Turning around to pick it up, you have a good look at the shelf behind your seat.

Your eyes dart from ‘Today’s recommendation’ to the book within your grasp.

‘Surrounded by idiots — by Thomas.’

You will rate this recommendation 10 out of 10 for sure.

After insisting on paying yourself and shooing the men off, you take out your card and place it on the scanner.

‘Insufficient balance :( please try again’

You frown when the machine shoves you a nuh-uh, and you open the bank app to check your balance.

So you overspent 10 pounds huh? What a shame to your title for being a successfully financially broken adult. Which link loses and makes you make a wrong shopping decision? 

you scan the list of items with sharp vision until you land your eyes on a product.

Surrounded by idiots - £ 10.61

Ah.

a/n: thx for reading :D sorry it's messy and unlike my previous writings :( hope I can have time to write again btw Price went on business trip so he's missing everything

tag list :D - @blackhawkfanatic @nexthyperfix @danielle143 @goodbyegh0st @reaperxxxxzz @kaoyamamegami @imyprice @cod-z @poppingaround @live-for-fluff @masterstr0ke @mall0ww @ghostysloot @hxnneydew @cutiecusp @beigechristmastree @rejectedbytheempty @lupikekee @hotvinimon @whitetiger846

[kanpaeki]

Can you do where dominic and the reader have an argument and give each other silent treatment even though they really wanna talk to each other but they’re being petty

i changed it a little bit but i hope this is close enough to what you wanted, i got writer's block like 3 times trying to write this lmao

x

“how many times do i have to say i’m sorry? i couldn’t fucking be there, i don’t know what else to say.”  dominic’s fed up by now, clearly done with the conversation if the flushed face and disgruntled expression is anything to show for.

“are you not getting this? that’s not the problem! but you should’ve talked to me!” and just like him, you're beyond frustrated. he's usually more communicative with you but you had an event that you really wanted him to go with you to and he straight up stood you up, no call, no text, no nothing. and you were furious. he didn't want to talk about it, claiming he was just was busy and with friends and lost track of time but you weren't having it. he needed to understand that he couldn't do that.

"i'm not doing this anymore." he abruptly stands up from his chair at the kitchen table and heads towards the doorway to what you assume is his makeshift home studio.

"where are you going?!" you shout, eyebrows furrowed in anger, "you're not doing what anymore?!"

no answer. he's retreating to the studio.

"dominic david fike."

he pauses.

but then he continues. and he's out of your sight within the next second. you hear the door slam.

you groan, running your hands through your hair. you don't think you've ever fought this bad. he was usually better at letting you know where he was or if he was going to be late, you don't understand why he all of a sudden stopped. it didn't make sense. something was weird. but at this rate, you were never going to find out why. you just wanted to talk to him, you don't even understand how it became a screaming match. sighing, you shake your head. maybe some time would be best for you both.

so you continue the day as normal, given there is quite a heavy and dark rain cloud looming over your head for the remainder of the evening, but you try your best. you get your work done, which was a nice distraction but the second you were done, your mind went back to dominic. so you tried to make dinner. you weren't the best cook but he seemed to enjoy it, especially when you make that one dish he really likes. he might even view it as a peace offering.

“dom? babe?” you call out, “dinner’s ready!” you plate the food at the stove, carrying them to the table. you wait for the telltale sound of a door opening and feet slapping the floor. it never comes.

“dom?” your heart starts to deflate. so maybe this issue was bigger than you thought. you stand there beside the table, watching the steam rise from the two plates. trying not to panic, you wring your hands together. maybe he’s just got his headphones on.

you think about texting him for a minute but you decide just to go knock on the door. if he's got headphones on, he probably won't hear his phone anyway. so up the stairs you go, putting your tail between your legs and knocking on the door. "dommy, dinner's ready. if you want to eat." pressing your lips together, you wait for the door to open.

nothing.

yeah, maybe this was worse than you thought. you give it another knock but still, no answer. resting your forehead on the cool wood, you exhale. usually after an argument, some time apart was all he needed. but it seems like this was going to take a little bit more than you anticipated.

"well, i'll be downstairs if you want to talk about it. i'll put your plate in the fridge." with that, you head back downstairs, thoughts racing through your mind. reaching the table, you just sit there. you don't even feel like eating anymore. you just pick at your food with the fork, frustrated more than anything. you know your feelings were valid, if anything, you should be the one giving him the silent treatment. you were willing to put everything behind you. why wasn't he? god, boys are so infuriating.

you stand up and just decide to wrap your plates and put them in the fridge. you didn't have it in you to eat right now and you're sure he'll be down to eat the second you leave the kitchen and shut yourself in the bedroom. and that you do. without even changing into pajamas, you just slide into the sheets in the darkness, left alone with your thoughts. you hated this silence. usually he was singing, showing you what he made, watching a movie with you, you guys even liked to online shop together. you loved his sense of style. you missed his nose. his cute button nose. you don't even realize you're crying until the feeling of something warm and wet on your nose bothers you enough to wipe it away.

you're half asleep when you hear padding around in the kitchen, socks shuffling on the floor and the sounds of the fridge opening. there's a sigh and muttering. more scuffling. and then it gets closer. you pretend to be asleep right as the door opens.

he seems to pause at the door but then there's a weight shift at the end of the bed as he sits on it. you carefully blink your eyes open, looking at him as he sits by your feet. his elbows rest on his knees and his hands are in his hair. you want to speak up, he looks frustrated but you don't know if you trust your voice after having cried yourself to sleep.

he takes a deep breath before he sits up, "i'm sorry." is all he says before he looks at you with an expression you've never really seen before. "i was trippin', i shouldn't shut down like that. i could've moved things around, i could've been there. i know how important it was to you and i'm sorry. it won't happen again."

you take a deep breath before sitting up, facing him. "i'm sorry i lost my temper. i know your schedule gets unpredictable. but you're right, it meant a lot to me." he nods and leans forward, resting his head on your chest. you run your hands through his messy curls.

"i love you." he murmurs into your chest, kissing you through your shirt. "will you eat with me please?" he looks up at you with shiny eyes and you just nod, smoothing the stray hair away from his cheeks.

he stands up first and you grab his hand as he outstretches it, taking his lead as he heads back to the kitchen. rarely did you ever eat without each other. maybe that's why you lost your appetite before. but sitting at the table with him now, smiling as you eat your dinner's together, all feels right again.

[lunajay33]

New World🍂Part.4

Summary: Things go wrong when you’re stuck on the highway and Daryl has been acting strange ever since you told him you loved him

Part.3

•Masterlist•

Along the way we had to ditch Daryl’s truck and now he was on his motorcycle leaving you to ride with Shane, but you all had to stop due to the road block and the RV breaking down……again

It’s been a hard few days the drive was tiring, a heard of walkers came threw and now Sophia was missing and people have been out looking for her for a day now, you were now out with Rick, Shane and Carl helping look when you came across a beautiful deer

You held carls hand as you both slowly approached the deer as we got closer he stood infront of you admiring the little magical moment as Shane and Rick watched

Then a bang was heard and you felt a boiling pain in your side, you looked down seeing blood quickly seeping from your shirt

You fell to the ground as Rick and Shane ran over putting pressure on your wound, you were so confused everything was a blur, the shouts your vision, everything

“What’s hap…happening?” Dazed you faintly heard another man approach then everything went dark

Feeling shaken you opened your eyes seeing Shane frantically running with you in his arms

“Ya hold on, we ain’t losing no one else ya hear me?”

You couldn’t answer nothing felt right

~~~~~~~~~

You woke up feeling hot, hair sticking to your face you tried to sit up but screamed out in pain

“You need to stay down dear” an older man said as he gently pushed me back down

“What happened, where am I?”

“You were shot, this is Hershel he’s gonna help you” you looked to your right to see Shane sitting by the bed, maybe Shane wasn’t that bad after all

“I need Daryl, please” you pleaded scared something might happen and you won’t have him in your finally moments

“I’ll find him” a girl in the corner said as she left the room

Then everything felt cold and you passed out again

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

Daryl’s pov

We were walking out in the woods lookin for Sophia when we heard a gun shot, there was a feeling in my chest that something happened but she was with Shane and Rick she should be fine and it was only one shot

We kept walking when a girl came riding up on a horse knocking out a walker

“Who’s Daryl?” She asked in a hurry

“Who’s askin?” How the hell did she know my name

“Y/n’s been shot you need to come with me” usually I wouldn’t trust this but she knew her name and I couldn’t risk it, I threw my bow over my shoulder and hoped on the horse

We rode off for a while till we came to an old farm house, rode right up to the front door where Rick and carl came out

I jumped off and tried pushing past to go in but Rick held me back

“What the hell happened?” I asked feeling angry, scared

“We were looking at a deer and Otis was tracking it, bullet went straight threw, grazed my shoulder and went right into her side” Carl explained

“She’s been in and out” Rick said as he led me inside to a room where she was laying, pale as snow, a sheen of sweat covered her skin

I sat my crossbow down and sat on the bed next to her, Shane was in the corner and a man with white hair was coming in

“Will she be okay?” I asked pushing her hair back

“She’s getting weak, her blood pressure is dropping, I’ve gotten a few fragments out but I can’t get some she’s lost too much blood”

“Giver mine, we’re the same, take it” I said ripping my shirt up readying for it

“Are you sure?”

I nodded as he came over and put the needle in, making me think about what’s happened between us lately

She told me she loved me, I didn’t say it back, don’t know why she’d say that, why would she love me she could hold out and wait for anyone, someone good she can’t love me…..no one can, and now I can barely look at her without feeling a tightness in my stomach, my heart clenching when I see her eyes full of worry

When the walkers came through the highway I couldn’t find her, all I heard was a scream and I thought she was gone and she would’ve died thinking I was…..well I don’t know what I feel but I know I can’t lose her

Hershel went on with the surgery now that she had the blood transfusion and stitched her up now I was just waiting for her to wake up….if she’d wake up

~~~~~~~~~

Normal pov

You woke up with a thumping headache and a sharp pain in your side, all the memories of what happened came flooding back, you looked around frantic but still so weak

No one was around so you got up slowly trying to maneuver yourself without ripping open your side, you managed to to get up and walk out to the front door, the fresh air was nice

You sat on the top step of the porch and let the air blow across your face cooling you down as you felt a lump in your throat

It’s been so hard lately, one thing after another keeps happening and you didn’t know how much longer you could take it

Tears slide down your cheeks and dropped onto your thighs, someone must have changed you cause you were in baggy shorts and an oversized shirt

You just felt like a burden to everyone now, you were looking for Sophia and you got injured and maybe she was out there dead now because everyone was too focused on you

You wiped your tears as you saw Daryl come walking towards the house, seeing tents were set up near by everyone must be here now

“The hell are ya doin out of bed?” He asked with a bit of anger to his voice

You didn’t answer, too tired mentally and physically you respond

“Y/n? Are ya okay?” You just shrugged finally looking at him

“Come on ya need to stay in bed” he said picking you up slowly and bringing you back inside to the bed

“I missed ya” he said as he sat next to you

“Why?” After his treatment and avoidance of you lately felt like he didn’t care anymore, he’s never done that to you before

“Why? Cause yer my best friend, yer all I got” he said confused

“Didn’t seem like that the past few days” you groaned as a pain shot from your side

“ ‘m sorry”

It was silent between you both as the tears welled again

“I’m tired Daryl, I’m so tired”

“Told ya, ya need to sleep”

“No, I’m tired, I should have stayed at the CDC with Jacqui, I don’t wanna do this anymore” you whined

“Don’t speak like that, I ain’ lettin ya give up, ya can’t, yer my person peach, please don’t leave me” he whispered as he felt a pain in his chest, seeing you like this for the first time trying to give up made his heart hurt

“I’m sorry D, im just scared, when I got shot all I could think about was you, how if I died you wouldn’t be there, how you were ignoring me and that would be our last memory, I just don’t wanna hurt anymore Daryl, I love you too much for you to ignore me” he wiped you tears away and held your cheek

“I luv ya too, I should’ve said it ‘fore, just never had someone love me like you do” he said as he leaned forward and placed a quick gentle kiss to your lips

It was a small kiss but a big step for him, he pulled back and you were both smiling

“Ya promise to never give up” he asked pleading

“I’ll try Dixon, for you I’ll try”

—///—///—///—///—///—///—

Part.5<-

If you wanna be a part of the taglist lmk in the comments and what you’d like to see more next in the story

Taglist: @thebadbatch2022 @deansapplepie @writer-ann-artist @ghostboneswrites

[katyawriteswhump]

omega found, omega lost #4

Chapter 1 on tumblr Chapter 2 on tumblr Chapter 3 on tumblr On AO3

Title: Omega found, Omega lost; Chapter: 4/5; WC: 2356; Rating: E; Tags: Steddie, Omega Steve, Alpha Eddie, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, nightmares.

for whumptober prompts day 19: blood trail, abandoned cabin, one way out. day 20: emotional angst, and day 22: bleeding through bandages, day 26: nightmares, and day 27: voiceless (yes, whoops, that's a lot of whump!)

Chapter 4: "I have no mouth and I must scream"

Then came the shout: “Alpha—get away from the Omega. Come out now, and if he’s unharmed, we’ll spare you.”

Eddie jumped up, insides wrenching at the small distance between he and Steve, while Steve was so sick. He glanced around, loathing even to rip his eyes from the Omega.

Was there any other way out of the cabin? Could he somehow haul Steve over one shoulder and flee? He’d never wanted to be a clod-headed beefcake kind of Alpha. Right now, it could be helpful. If they could get out. He assessed only the one door and two windows, the closest of which was now shattered and letting in a sleety gale.

An impotent growl escaped him. He grabbed for his damp pants, hoiking them on. He might make it out alone, but he couldn’t leave Steve at the mercy of a baying pack. Even Steve’s own pack. Eddie trusted them less than ever. Was this it… was he gonna die?

All this streaked through his head in a few seconds. He’d not even started to properly lose his shit, before another shout boomed from outside:

“What the heck are you morons doing throwing rocks? What you gonna do next—burn the cabin down?”

Eddie recognised that rumbling voice. Jim Hopper, chief Alpha of the Hawkins pack. Yeah, Wayne always claimed he was a reasonable guy. The idea of handing over Steve to anyone, however trustworthy, gouged like a jackknife in Eddie’s gut. He dashed to the unbroken window, squatted down, and glanced out.

 A couple of Alphas—oh, yeah, and Steve’s Beta dad—prowled the thawing snow, carrying rifles and sticks.

Nope. No sneaking out that way.

“You gonna open this door, Alpha, or do I kick it down?” Hopper hammered on the flimsy wood.

“I’m coming.” No choice. No damn choice.

Eddie dragged his shirt on, slunk to the door, pulled the bolt aside. Hopper barged in, and Eddie stood his ground between the larger Alpha and Steve—shoulders squared, fists clenched, his lips peeling back from his gums and his incisor-fangs quickening. He expected the larger Alpha to grab him or go straight for Steve. He wasn’t sure how he was gonna defend the Omega, only that he must.

Should he really make a dash for that shard of glass and slash it at Hopper’s throat?

Hopper’s attention latched straight onto Steve, and he made no sudden move. He closed the door behind, before the rest of the pack could swarm in, which was unexpected: “Christ, tell me he’s alive, Munson.”

Eddie was stunned enough to let Hopper pass.

“Yeah, he’s… he’s alive, okay?” Eddie hurried back to Steve’s side. “I found him caught in a hunter’s trap, and he was bleeding and scared and really, really cold.” Christ, in the minute since he’d unwound his body from Steve’s, the Omega’s lips had turned a worrying shade of blue. “Look, you gotta get him to a hospital. The rest of your pack can…”

Eddie trailed off, mouth hanging open. Stop thinking like a knot-head Alpha and think like Eddie Munson.

He wasn’t gonna beg to be torn to pieces, especially for so little ends. That said, Hopper appeared to have no intention of chewing his head off, at least not literally. Eddie shoulders and spine sagged, and his head drooped: “How many of your goons are out there?”

“There’s a dozen Betas and three more Alphas, all howling for your blood.” Hopper huddled Steve in the blanket and scooped him up into his arms. Eddie bristled at his own helplessness and a tinge of jealousy. “We didn’t even need the blood trail to follow! He’s letting off scent like he’s gone into heat, and we scented you too. Did you knot him?”

“No! I swear on my life.” His sudden fear for Steve proved the most painful stab yet. “You can’t let them punish him, man.”

Hopper effortlessly jostled Steve up a little, so Steve's lolling head rested against his shoulder. “The Omega is the least of your problems, Alpha. If it wasn’t for your uncle, I’d rip your throat out myself, apart from… this is as much my damn fault as yours.” Huh? Eddie hadn’t been expecting that. Nor Hopper’s guilty glance down at Steve. “I should have kept him glued to my side last night. Look, you better get outta here pronto.”

“How?” Eddie flapped his arms around wildly, reverting to the feckless teen he’d been only a couple of years before. “There’s only one way out.”

Hopper chuckled dryly. “Your old man knew different when he hid out here. There’s a panel behind the stove.  Took me ages to figure how the crafty old dog gave me the slip. Go. Hide. I’ll draw them away. Make sure nobody torches the place.”

Eddie obeyed, hating it. What choice did he have? While he sensed Hopper had Steve’s best interests at heart, he churned with anger at the whole damn world, and at himself.

Fuck, he was such a terrible Alpha. This proved how unready he was for a soulmate, let alone fatherhood and shit.

He had to let Steve go. Others could take better care of him.

As he hauled aside the stove, he dared not glance over his shoulder, in case he shed an incriminatingly un-Alpha tear.

…

Steve had been sick and hurt. Of that part, he was sure. But he’d been okay.

Eddie’s warm scent and body had enveloped him. The brush of Eddie’s soft lips had comforted him. Then he’d been ripped from that safe cocoon and hurled straight into Hell.

Barbed fangs glinted in an inky blackness, and the beast pounced, fangs piercing deep into Steve’s leg. It lifted him in its jaws and shook him violently, before smashing him into the icy ground, a hunk of dying meat.

He couldn’t hear his own scream after scream after scream. The exposed nerves and tendons in his ankle screamed louder, mocking his silence. The stench of his blood clotted in his nose and clogged up his throat, already shredded by his useless cries and thickened by terror.

Can’t breathe… can’t… can’t…dying… dying… dead? Eddie… Alpha... Please help me… It hurts… Eddieeeeee!

A wall of darkness slammed down. He floated, lost, mercifully senseless. When the dreams kicked off again, they weren’t all so bad. He was in a dingy cellar, chained to a damp brick wall, and… Okay, this was exactly how Tommy H claimed he’d wind up, some rogue Alpha’s plaything.

Steve was fiiiine with it.

Eddie was there, his body slamming Steve’s flush to the bricks. He nuzzled Steve’s throat tenderly, dragging his tongue over Steve’s mating gland. Steve’s every sinew strained toward him, trying to purr and rub into him. He couldn’t glean Eddie’s delicious scent. Violent shudders dragged him back from the cusp of getting slick.

“Eddie?” he whimpered. “Eddie, please? Where are you?”

When Steve finally opened his eyes for real, he squeezed them tight again before daring to peep.

He was in a hospital room. He’d gotten an IV drip attached to his arm, and other scary wires had been attached to his chest, poking out of his hospital gown. His heart lurched, and a green line spiked on a bedside monitor.

How did he get here? Last thing he recalled was Eddie… the cabin… Oh, Christ, what was real and what wasn’t? His head throbbed so hard he feared his skull would crack, and his stomach felt like somebody had punched it.

“Eddie,” he croaked, though nobody was around to hear. “Eddie.”

The next time he stirred, daylight stung his eyes. His mom stood at the door, talking to a doctor, “Mom?” he whispered. She didn’t turn her head. “Mommy?” Okay, that was shameful. “Please… mom? Where’s Eddie?”

His voice couldn’t compete with the penetrating hum of the strip-light.

I’m an Omega, not a pushover.

Yeah. Right.

Holy crap, he couldn’t leave the house alone without screwing up, bigtime, and his voice was little better than that of a ghost’s. Tuning into the doctor’s conversation didn’t exactly help:

“Mrs Harrington, you must understand—your son bled through bundles of fresh bandages after we brought him in, which made little sense. When he was found, he was sick, but his injuries had started to heal. He was never hyperthermic, yet he GOT WORSE. The bleeding has finally stopped, but his vitals have never stabilised.”

“Could he be pregnant, Doctor? Should I book him into an Omega Clinic?”

“It’s hard to tell with Omegas. I wouldn’t want to subject him to any invasive examination, let alone have him moved while he’s so sick.”

“But…”

With pup?

Steve’s blood simmered beneath his clammy cheeks.

And now his mother talked of the Omega clinic. Would she really dump him in that horrible place again, though they’d had to drug him to the eyeballs to survive it? And why, oh why, must he picture Tommy H, cackling in his face?

Did my soulmate fuck me and ditch me? Or was the whole soulmates BS all in my ‘air-brain little head’? Did Eddie knot me and skip town?

Okay, he’d literally been asking for it. He’d begged Eddie for dick and opened his legs to him like a ‘wanton little hussy.’

Was Tommy right about him? Tommy was right! His mom, too?

“I’m no Omega specialist,” the doctor was saying. “However, at this stage, the best remedy may be to find this rogue Alpha your son has been crying out for.”

“Yes. Hunt down that lowlife dog and destroy him for ruining my son.”

Steve’s panic ripped through him like a floodtide. His shallow breaths refused to sooth his clenching lungs, and his skin broke out into a cold sweat. By the time the doctor’s attention slid his way, he was full-on flipping out.

The next few moments passed in a terrifying blur. He fought the suffocating blankets and yanked the wires from his arm and torso, before more than one set of strong hands pinned him down. A sharp prick on his arm was echoed by the cool glide of a needle into his skin. Cool air flowed from the mask placed over his face. He drifted into dreams and that murky basement, wandering it like a spirit.

“Eddie,” he murmured, “Where are you?”

…

Three days.

Three fucking days.

That was how long Eddie had skulked in this dingy brick basement—pacing to keep warm, punching the bricks, wringing his battered hands, and all but ripping his hair out. He’d passed hours squatting in a corner, holding his drooping head.

Christ, he should get the fuck out of Dodge.

Perhaps distance could kill this agony. This crushing misery at knowing Steve was dangerously ill and being unable to see him, let alone do anything about it.

Yet Eddie wasn’t going anywhere, which was lunacy. None of his designs for life included mating a high-class Omega who’d grown up, basically, in a palace. Oh, and Steve’s mom had put a price on his head.

Ten thousand dollars. Dead or Alive. Seriously, where was he living—the Old West? Medieval Europe?

“Why me?” Eddie was muttering, over and over. The soft tap on the basement door set him snarling.

Okay, it was his and Wayne’s secret knock, based on an old Def Leppard guitar riff. Damn, Eddie was skittish as a goddamn Omega. Wayne descended the rickety wooden stairs, and Eddie leaped up, sweeping his heavy unwashed hair from his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Had a visit from Hop and Steve’s dad.”

“Shit!” Eddie buried all eight fingers in his uncombed tresses. “Did they follow you here?”

“What sorta fool do you take me for, son?” Wayne chuckled, squeezing Eddie’s super-taut bicep. Eddie teetered suddenly on the brink of throwing his arms around his uncle and bawling his eyes out. Anything to release the tension thrumming through his every vein. “Wouldn’t have mattered if they did. Hop talks the talk about ripping your throat out, nothing more. I swear to God, he begged for your help.”

Eddie met Hopper around the back of the hospital, near a delivery entrance for the kitchens. On sighting him, Eddie stopped dead, smacked his boot heel loudly onto the ice-hardened asphalt.  

The older Alpha’s lips peeled back, hostile vibes billowing from him. Then Hopper pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned:

“Okay, Munson, stand down.” He hurled some scrubs at Eddie. “Gonna smuggle you in. Apparently, your Omega pepped up no end on learning we were trying to contact you on the sly. Even the docs are bleating on about the soulmate bond—it’s the worst case of rejection sickness in living memory. So, yeah, let’s move. We’ll deal with the nuclear fallout in the morning.”

Eddie pulled on the scrubs and tied back his hair, using a scrunchie he was pretty sure Hop had swiped off his daughter. He followed the Chief through the quiet corridors, struggling to get his head together.

Soulmate bond. Rejection sickness. Some doctor had more or less prescribed Eddie as a cure? He snatched a swift, fortifying breath.

You got this, Munson. Make your Omega well again, and everything else is gonna be child’s play…

…hahaha, seriously? You gonna rob a bank or something?

Screw it. Perhaps he would.

After they’d passed through the dark kitchens, Eddie sensed something off. He’d smelled Steve over a mile off in a snowy forest, and yet… Okay, maybe that was Steve’s musk he detected, heavily interwoven with others,’ and faint beneath the tang of chemicals.

It was way too faint and soured with a bitter tang that set Eddie’s guts flipping.

He shoved past Hopper and sprinted up the corridor. He followed his nose up several flights of stairs. Along a dark corridor, he almost collided with an angry nurse, then he rounded a corner and slammed into Steve’s dad. Eddie braced the Beta and shook him, taken aback by huge, scared hazel-brown eyes, startlingly like Steve’s: “What is it? Is Steve okay?”

“I-I don’t know. He’d been on the mend since I promised to find you. I came over to break the news you were on your way… and he’s gone and discharged himself.”

...

Chapter 5.1 (it's gonna be fine, okay!?!)

Please like and reblog if you’re feeling kind 🥰 it’s so very much appreciated ❤️

tags: @wheneverfeasible @mugloversonly @ellietheasexylibrarian

@strawberryyyenthusiast @stripey82

If anybody else fancies reading more, I would be happy to tag :) Or follow #katya's omega whump

My endless outpourings of Steve whump can be found on AO3 here :)

[apricoctopus]

Raphael's Special Offer

It's kinktober, so I decided to write something a bit spicy!

It's a continuation of my previous fic, Daily Dose of Terrible Men, but you don't have to read it to understand what's going on. It's short and cute though.

Raphael/Fem!Tav. Named Tav, softish Raphael.

3682 words, it's explicit, but nothing shocking. Just a sub and a bratty bottom trying to have sex, and hilarity ensues. And face sitting, because admit it, you all know what Raphael's horns are really for.

Act 3. Agartha decides to find out exactly what kind of services Raphael provides in a brothel. And of course he has something special for his favorite client.

Agartha stood in front of the door unsure what she should do. She heard music and laughter from the first floor — of course, this late at night Sharess’ Caress was the most crowded. But she didn’t hear anything from behind the door in front of her.

She even put her ear to it. Nothing. It meant that Raphael wasn’t with a visitor and she wouldn’t be interrupting anything— that was good. But it was possible he wasn’t even there — she was sure he had other places to be. Probably more distinguished than a brothel on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate.

Or maybe he was sleeping. Taking a nap. As a devil he probably didn’t need much sleep, but he wasn’t a young man after all.

Agartha snorted, imagining Raphael dozing off after a busy day of collecting souls of brothel goers.

WHY ARE YOU GIGGLING LIKE AN IMBECILE? WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?

Somehow the Emperor managed to scream and whisper in her head at the same time. It was a bit funny, that he tried to lower his voice, as if worried that Raphael could hear him.

DID YOU REALLY PUT ON A DRESS? AND WHAT IS THIS ON YOUR HEAD? DO YOU HOPE TO IMRESS YOUR DEVIL WITH THIS?

Agartha frowned and adjusted gilded rings and horn caps borrowed from Alfira. They had similar horn shape, so this set fit her pretty well. And they really complimented her blonde hair and yellow eyes, and went well with her new dress of deep blue satin. Obviously, Raphael was ought to be impressed.

Agartha had her own “hornaments” as she called them, but they were at home on the other side of the city. It would take her too long to go get them, and she was afraid she would lose all of her courage on the way there.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, though.

“Shut up, will you? Why don’t you bother Wyll or someone else?” Agartha whispered angrily.

MAYBE BECAUSE WYLL OR ANYDODY ELSE FROM YOUR MERRY LITTLE BAND OF WEIRDOS ISN’T SNEAKING INTO THE BROTHEL IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT TO FORNICATE WITH A DEVIL?

“And how do you know that? We have a devil at camp, go check, maybe someone’s fornicating with her right now!”

LIKE YOU DID NOT SO LONG AGO? THIS JUMPING FROM ONE FIEND TO ANOTHER MAKES ME REALLY APPRECIATE THE FACT THAT AT LEAST YOU DIDN’T TRY TO FUCK THE ORTHON. YOUR RECENT BEHAVIOUR MADE ME LOWER MY EXPEC…

Suddenly the Emperor’s presence vanished — not just his voice, but also that unpleasant feeling at the back of her head, like someone was constantly watching her. Devil’s Den door creaked and opened.

Apparently, it was an invitation.

Agartha went inside. The room was dark, illuminated only by the starts peeking through the windows, but thanks to her infernal ancestry Agartha had no trouble with that. She saw red rose petals the scattered on the floor and thin ribbon of smoke coming up from incense on the edge of the pool, feeling the room with sweet, heavy smell. At the other end of the room a set of stairs led to an arch, covered with red drapes. Through a thin gap between them a strip of warm light fell on the marble floors. Agartha went straight to the arch.

When she pulled the drape to the side, she was surprised to see that the second room, well-lit and spacious, was actually pretty cozy, with soft carpets on the floor and a big bed that, after spending so many weeks on the road, seemed extremely comfortable.

Raphael sat behind a desk of carved wood, eyeing Agartha curiously. Blue doublet hung on the back of his chair, several buttons on his shirt were undone and frills of its collar were laying freely on his shoulders. When Agartha forced herself to look away from Raphael’s chest hair, she noticed a neat stack of papers in front of him.

“New contracts?”

Raphael nodded.

“It was a good day. May I inquire, why are you here? Did you come to bring me the Crown? I would be most impressed if you managed to get a hold of it so quickly.”

“No, I don’t have it yet,” Agartha said as approached him and sat on the desk.

“What brings you here then?”

She shrugged.

“Nothing important, really. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Go on.”

“It’s a curious choice for an office, even for a devil. A brothel, I mean. Why here?”

“It has a lovely view,” Raphael gestured towards one of the windows. The view of Chionthar glistening under the stars and city lights was indeed lovely. “And I don’t see anything wrong this the nature of this place — especially in Baldur’s Gate. In terms of comfort and quality of service any difference between a brothel and a high-end restaurant here will be marginal. But most importantly Sharess’ Caress is very… accessible. In a more refined establishment, my choice of potential customers would be limited, while here everybody is welcome. That’s exactly what I need — I want my services to be available to people of all backgrounds and levels of income. I don’t discriminate.”

“How noble of you.”

“Thank you, my dear. I knew you would appreciate it. But I feel like you still have questions, am I right?..”

He was, and she was glad he asked.

Agartha wasn’t naive. She saw the way Raphael treated her: all these visits during her travels under the guise of “just checking”, all the gifts, and compliments, and pet names, and “my dear”s. Whatever everybody, especially the Emperor, said, it was more than just a manipulation to get her to trust him. He really liked her, and finally it was time to see just how much. So, for the first time in weeks, she took a good long bath, brushed her hair properly and even bought a new dress — and something else she hoped Raphael would enjoy. Agartha was ready to make her move. She didn’t have a clear plan and had failed to come up with one on her way there, so she decided to improvise.

“Still, it’s a brothel. People normally don’t come here to sign contracts. Is this,” she gestured towards the stack of contracts, “the only service you provide in this fine establishment?”

The moment Agartha said the last words, she felt relief that the Emperor didn’t hear her. If she survived after asking Raphael this, damn squid would mock her relentlessly till the end of her days.

The devil looked at her bewildered. He was taken aback by this question as much as she was, although he quickly composed himself.

“I… Yes, normally that’s the only service I provide, as you put it. Yet…”

Raphael got up from his chair and stood in front of Agartha. He gave her a long, pensive look, as if still deciding what to do with her.

“You are my favorite customer, after all. And for my dear Little Mouse I can think of something special,” he said cupping her face in his hands. “I think I know why you really came here, and I will be happy to give it to you.”

Agartha noted how his skin was soft and feverishly hot, and that he had some new perfume — still sweet, but more flowery this time. And then he kissed her.

It felt like falling. Her stomach dropped, and head started spinning. Agartha had been waiting for this moment for so long, she felt nauseous from excitement. With trembling hands she pulled his shirt up, and he took it off, breaking the kiss for a moment. She felt him up gliding her hands from his waist to the chest, to his neck, hugging him and pulling him closer, and suddenly he broke the kiss again.

“Wait, wait for just a second. You deserve something truly special,” as he said this, air filled with heat and shimmered, and Raphael’s disguise burned away in bright magical fire.

As a human Raphael was pretty average. Not too short and not too tall, not too big and not too skinny, a perfectly normal middle-aged man. And a very attractive one, although the only one who agreed with Agartha on that matter was Astarion. Raphael created his human disguise in a way that made him look respectable, but not threatening. Trustworthy even, if he actually tried.

As a cambion Raphael was very different. He wasn’t like Mizora who more or less resembled a tiefling with wings and especially fancy horns. He was so tall that the top of Agartha’s head barely reached his shoulder, and wings and two sets of massive black horns made him seem even bigger. His features seemed sharper and harsher. He was covered in scales everywhere expect for his face, chest and stomach, and rows of hard ridges ran under red skin. And there was something different in the way he moved and looked at her with unblinking orange eyes, like a snake.

Right. Not a fox. A snake. And she was a stupid Little Mouse.

Perhaps the Emperor was right.

Raphael leaned on the desk so his face would be on the same level as Agartha’s and his hands would block her from trying to slip away. She gasped for air, as heat emitted by his body made it hard to breathe. The devil spread his wings as much as the space allowed, and Agartha suddenly felt claustrophobic and trapped.

“Are you scared? I can hear your heart beating.”

Only when he said it, Agartha understood that her heart was indeed racing so fast, it felt like it was going to jump out of her chest.

“Yeah,” she said in a coarse voice. “A bit.” 

He kissed her neck while his hand slid under her dress, claws scratching her thigh, making Agartha gasp. Raphael smiled and pressed harder — not enough to draw blood, but enough to make her shiver and lash her tail against the desk leg.

“Shh, don’t be afraid, Little Mouse. I won’t hurt you, unless you ask me,” he whispered.

Agartha was afraid — it was the first time she saw Raphael’s true form so close and she was not prepared to how inhuman he looked. Despite her fear — or may be because of it? — there were tension and warmth growing between her legs. It was all scary, and confusing, and hot — in every sense of this word.

Raphael’s kisses moved lower, to her collarbones and her cleavage, and his hand moved up, fingertips massaging her through wet fabric of her panties. Agartha was grateful he kept his claws away this time. She shifted on the desk into a more comfortable position, opening her legs wider and holding on to his shoulders for support.

She touched him, gingerly and unsurely at first: rough, scaly skin, thick membranes of his wings, hard cartilaginous ridges on the back. She ran her hand through his hair and gently scratched scalp near the horns — she knew from experience this spot should be sensitive. Raphael made a sound that could only be characterized as purring.

“You can purr?” she couldn’t help but nervously giggle.

He looked at her and made that sound again — something between a cat’s purr and a low rumble.

“That’s… that’s fascinating. I had no idea devils could do this.”

He answered with a kiss, sharp fangs briefly brushing against her lips, and put his hands on her waist, moved them up to her breasts, squeezing them slightly, and then to her back to unhook the dress, now soaked in sweat. It slid off her, leaving Agartha only in lingerie of red silk and golden lace. It was not her favorite color combination and she honestly considered it a bit tacky, but she guessed Raphael would like it.

The devil straightened up and looked at her, clearly enjoying the view:

“Gorgeous.”

Agartha leaned to him and planted a gentle kiss on skin over his ribs, where it was soft and not covered in scales. To her delight, Raphael’s cambion form had, as well as the human one, impressive chest hair and a happy trail leading down from the belly button into his pants. Agartha glided her hand over his firm press and traced hard ridges on his sides down to his hips.

Raphael put one hand on the back of her head, sending pleasant shivers down her neck when tips of his claws touched her scalp, while unbuckling his belt with the other. Agartha pulled his pants down, and as they fell on the floor, she wondered what his reaction would be if she just got up, said that there was no way that thing would fit in and excused herself. His cock, fully erect, was almost the size of her forearm and just as thick. It looked painful, although ridges did spark her curiosity. 

It seemed Raphael noticed her reaction and knelt in front of her, as if trying to look less intimidating. It didn’t work, partially because he raised his wing and caressed her cheek with it in a gesture equally sweet and terrifying.

“Oh, don’t worry. It will be fine. You will be fine. You know you can trust me.”

Agartha really hated when he said that.

Raphael kissed sharp ridges on her knees, and her thighs, and then moved to her belly, covering it in kisses, while taking her panties off.

“Why are you so tense? Didn’t I promise I won’t hurt you?” he asked with a chuckle. “Oh, my dear, dear Little Mouse, you need to relax. Let me help you with that.”

Raphael picked her up with one arm — Agartha yelped and hugged his neck, to keep herself from falling — and headed towards the bed. He laid down and dragged her closer to the headboard, eventually forcing to stand on her knees right above his face.

“You can hold on to my horns, if you want,” he offered politely. “Come on, I won’t bite.”

Agartha hesitated. She fantasized about this moment a lot, to the Emperor’s annoyance, but she never imagined herself on top of Raphael. Usually, her scenarios involved being bent over a table with some spanking and maybe bondage to spice things up. Seeing her indecisiveness, Raphael put hands on her hips and pressed down. She had no choice but to oblige, grasping his horns. They were spikey but otherwise rather handy.

All of her hesitation faded the moment his lips pressed on her pussy and his forked, almost painfully hot tongue touched her throbbing clit, both tips circling around if, teasing and caressing. She felt like there was nothing left of her, just this sweet pulsating warmth, radiating through her body.  Agartha didn’t even notice when she started grinding her hips, following the rhythm Raphael set, moaning louder and louder, begging him not to stop. Raphael grasped the base of her tail, where skin was especially tender, and stroked, each move sending waves of overwhelming tingling sensation through her spine. It was all just too much, and her movements became erratic and back arched. She came so hard, she would fall if Raphael wasn’t holding her.

“Oh, fucking Hells...” she moaned.

Raphael kept holding her, even when she tried to get off his face. After a short rest his tongue touched her clit again, more aggressive this time.

“What… what are you doing? Let me... ahh…”

Raphael wasn’t just teasing her, he pressed right on the most sensitive spot again and again, making Agartha twitch with her whole body. He firmly held her hips with one hand, while other stroked her tense back, and trembling belly, and breasts with hard nipples that ached from rubbing against the lace of her bra.

Her arousal grew with each sharp movement of his tongue — and not only because of how mercilessly he stimulated her. She loved the pain of spikes on his horns sinking into her palms, and his claws scratching her back, and ticklish trickle of blood where they punctured skin. And most of all she loved the realization she was completely his power. He was so much stronger than her, that no matter how desperately she fought, she could not escape or at least move her hips away, to give herself a little rest. Even her tail frantically whipping against his body didn’t bother him.

Agartha came again, her body trembling, legs and arms aching from tension. She couldn’t even moan, and the sound she made was a pathetic, weak whimper. It didn’t just fail to stop Raphael this time — it only whetted him. His teeth scratched her hot, sore skin, making her whimper again. She was so overstimulated, her muscles contracted with each movement of his tongue, as pleasure mixed with growing pain.

Hells, doesn’t he get tired of this? Doesn’t he need to breathe or something?..

It was the only coherent thought her clouded mind was capable of right now.

She put her hand into Raphael’s hair, brushing it, finding that part around the horns, as if it could somehow make him have mercy on her.

“Raphael, stop, stop, please… it hurts, stop!”

With her pleading neither of them heard the sound of the door to Devil’s Den opening followed by rushed footsteps.   

“You asshole! Let go of her immediately!” Angry scream finally made Raphael let Agartha go, and she fell on him, panting and shaking from aftershocks.

“What?..” Raphael rose up in bed using his wings for support.

Agartha rolled on her stomach to look at the invaders and groaned.

Drapes that used to cover the arch were laying on the stairs — apparently Karlach tore them off. Tiefling woman stood in her armor, with a flaming axe in her hands, surrounded by fire and smoke bursting from vents on her shoulders. Behind her Agartha saw Wyll and Astarion, both alarmed and armed, ready to strike.

It was awful. It was worse than that time with the Emperor, because at least he wiped that memory from her poor companions minds. But the image of Agartha, with her hair messy and make up smudged, laying on top of naked Raphael with a boner that was approximately the size of her arm? They would remember that.

A catastrophe.

“Care to explain what is going on here?” Karlach asked, even angrier than before.

Why would you be angry? Agartha thought with annoyance. She sat right on top of Raphael — she had learned already that her weight didn’t bother him in the slightest. He, in an unexpectedly thoughtful gesture, raised his wing, covering her from her shocked friends.

 “What does it look like to you?” Raphael’s voice sounded calm, but Agartha could feel he was seething. He had that scrunch on his nose that appeared only when he was really angry. “Perhaps you would care to explain what are you all doing here? I can’t remember inviting any of you.” 

All three of them seemed confused. It looked like they expected to see something different here.

“The Emperor said Agartha was in dang…” Wyll started to explain, but he was interrupted.

“The Emperor? Again?” The devil fell back on the pillows laughing, his anger dissipating in a moment. Agartha slapped his chest in frustration.

“It’s not funny!”

“Again?..” Astarion chimed in.

“But it is! Who could have thought an illithid could get so jealous! He just doesn’t want you to be happy, my dear. And you can’t say he is not inventive. I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck off. You are not sorry.” She exhaled, counted to 10 and then turned to her friends. Her face was so hot and red, she felt like it was possible to fry an egg on it. “That squid is full of shit and I’m not in any danger.”

Karlach raised an eyebrow.

“Really? Well, it sounded like you were.”

She will never let me forget this.

“Well, I wasn’t! So please, leave. I will come back in the morning and you will tell me everything you think of it. Leave.”

“How do we know you are not charmed? The Emperor says the devil,” Astarion pointed his dagger to Raphael who now looked relaxed — all parts of him, in fact — and amused by the drama, “blocks your mind from him.”

Agartha wondered for a second if she should indeed pretend Raphael had put a spell on her. Would it help her keep at least a scrap of dignity?..

“Oh, no-no-no, you get it all wrong. I was the one being seduced and charmed here, isn’t that right, my dear?” Raphael asked, gliding his hand across Agartha’s thigh.

Damn mouthy devil.  

“I wasn’t charmed, no one is charmed, and no one is any danger, except for the mind flayer when I get my hands on him. And if you don’t leave right now, I will jump out of the window. I’m serious.”

“It’s not very high,” Raphael pointed out.

“Fine.” Karlach said and nodded to the guys to head back to the door. “We will have a talk about this later. Shagging a fiend, for fuck’s sake…”

When they left, Agartha took off her bra, threw it in the corner, and laid on top of Raphael, exhausted. He wrapped his hands around her and covered her with both wings. She was sweating in there and it was terribly unsexy, but she didn’t care.

“Well, since we are alone now?..” Raphael suggested, but Agartha shook her head, almost hitting him in the face with her horns. She didn’t care about it either.

She remembered something that happened at the very beginning of her journey. Not that long ago, in fact, but it felt like it was in a different life. Right now, she seriously believed that in that exact moment she ruined her karma and doomed herself to life of misery, loneliness and terrible relationships with terrible men.

The moment when she opened the door of that cursed barn.

“Moment ruined,” she whispered quietly. “Passion… squished like a slow goat under foot.”

“Goat? What goat? What in the Nine Hells are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Nothing… Can you purr again, please? It was really cute.”

[empressofmankind]

On My Silent Days

I Miss You A Little Louder

[Crocodile x female!OC]

Explicit with a capital E

Word count: 7k / 15 pages

A/N: Writing this has been my whole life the past 5 days, as anyone who has frequented my Dash recently can attest. I am obsessed with their chemistry.

Technically, this is part of 'The Show Must Go On'. You don't have to read it, but I recommend it. You'll get to know Shivs and her helter-skelter relationship with Buggy which sits as the background to this whole ordeal.

You see, this is like, Arabaste arch at the earliest - Cross Guild era more likely. By then, Shivs and Bugs have rollercoastered through so much bullshit and they've come out rock solid on the other side somehow. Clown keeps failing up, even with this relationship. Sir Crocodile finds the whole thing insulting, to say the least. And seems to think it is one well-placed remark away from utterly crumbling. Jealous ex, whomst? My dude, you fucked that up yourself. Repeatedly. You had more chances than you have fingers. Chemistry aside, this is absolutely a desert of his own making.

What else do you need to know? Shivs is only 2 or 3 years younger than Buggy (i.e. my age, come sue me), but Crocodile is 5 years older than the clown. So, she's in her mid 30s, he's in his mid 40s. She originally met him when he was maybe 28? Do the math. Oh yes, and for those less familiar with the Cross Guild era: our favourite clown has managed to accidentally become the lauded public face of what is actually Mihawk and Crocodile's venture. Understandably, the ex-warlords are a little miffed by this and spend decent amounts of time physically abusing poor Buggy.

Shivs' absolutely flawless plan is basically swapping sexual favours with her ex for get-out-of-jail-free cards for the clown.

My girl literally barging in here telling Croc: "I'll take ur cock if u leave my clown alone."

Yes. That's it. That's the plot.

She almost had him, too. Arguably, she had him the entire time. And then he gdamn snapped her from the pond edge like an unwitting gazelle in the last minute. Cuz we all - her included - forgot who we're dealing with for 14.5 pages straight. APPARENTLY.

screams into a pillow

Tag(s): Oh? Ok. Sexual favours! Is she fucking her boss? No, but he always makes it feel that way. Is she fucking her ex? Yes. Are they technically still married? Maybe. Blow jobs? Deep throat. Size kink? 100%. Filthy language. Graphic sex. Soft dom? Power bottom? I am on the fence. Little girl vibes on the margins, like, he tries. She too sassy and sooner a brat. Oh, orgasm denial! Big time. Humiliation? A little bit. Stretching? Yes. Moar size kink. Choking? Big yes. Spoiling? Also yes. She deserves nice things. Power imbalance? Yes. In whose direction? It kind of flip-flops. Did I need to spend so many words on their smoking and his cigars? Probably not, but it scratched an itch. With them, it counts as foreplay; I am sure. You know you're doing well when he takes the damn thing outta his mouth. World class banter, too. If I may say so myself. But really, the bottom line is that it's just oral and PIV dressed up real fancy.

ON MY SILENT DAYS 

I MISS YOU A LITTLE LOUDER

The double doors were as tall and foreboding as Shivs remembered. All bevelled hardwood and delicate gilding. She stood before them, gazing up. In the dead centre sat a brass knocker shaped like a bananawani's head, polished to a sheen. 

Knocking was for people with appointments, and waiting wasn't something she planned on doing here ever again. She put her palms against the cold, expensive wood and pushed the massive doors open as if breaking a siege. They swung on smooth hinges despite their weight and struck the marbled walls with resounding booms.

The opulent office beyond was exactly as she remembered. Marquina walls, fishbone parquet floors, blackwood furniture. The taxidermied juvenile bananawani set in the wall vitrine behind his desk was new. What had been there before? A map? A ship? No, a stone. An artefact of some kind riddled in curious glyphs.

Crocodile glanced up from his papers and the irritation flitting across his scarred face in the split second before he realised who'd dared barge in, set the hairs on the back of her neck on end. How often had she seen someone shrivel into a desiccated husk straight after that look?

Shivs held his pale gaze, set her jaw and strode into his office as if down the plank. 

The creak of leather as he leaned back in his seat. “You know I've killed people for less.”

She paused in front of his outrageous statement piece of a desk. She put her hands in the pockets of her baggy pants and forced her shoulders to unclench, her stance to relax. If Buggy’s dumb luck had managed to rub off on her in these past months, then now would be the time for it to start working for her.

“Lucky I am not ‘people’,” she said as she crossed her fingers in her pocket. 

Amusement squinted his eyes as the corner of his mouth twitched up behind his cigar. “No, you're not,” he said as he rose.

Shivs was not short. Not by any regular definition of the word. Buggy was only a head taller than her. She hadn't forgotten how tall Crocodile was, not really. And yet, as he came around his desk and towards her, there appeared to be no end to him as he approached. If she reached up, stretched her arm, she could nick his cigar. But only just.

"Do you still smoke?" he said as he stopped well within her personal space, forcing her to crane her neck to meet his gaze. He took a flat, brass case from the inside pocket of his coat and held it out to her. She remembered it. Remembered the exquisite taste of the narrow cigarillos in it.

"No."

"Liar." His gaze flicked down along his cigar at her. "You smell of cigarettes, doll."

"I have changed my ways."

Humour flitted under his gravelly voice. "For the worse." 

Shivs pursed her lips. "It's an expensive lifestyle when they don't come free with a goodnight kiss."

"Hah." 

The bark of laughter actually reached his eyes, crinkling their crow's feet for a moment. He held out the case to her again. "You poor thing. I do support charities, you know."

She took it this time and flipped it open. The rich waft of tobacco and sweet Goji berries greeted her as if no time had passed at all. Might as well enjoy her sojourn back to hell while she could.

She put one of the thin cigarillos between her lips and let him light it. Watched the firelight catch and reflect in his rings. Took a moment to savour the blend, rich and sweet as polished Beli.

They were very good.

Always had been.

Shivs took the cigarillo from between her lips and blew the smoke up in rings through a slow smile. They almost reached him.

Crocodile leaned down through the cloudy hoops to pluck the shoulder of her red-and-white striped sweater between thumb and index finger, a judgemental 'hmph' escaping around his cigar.

She enjoyed the expensive smoke and his fascination while it lasted. Maybe, just maybe, this would be enough? Letting him treat her like a doll badly in need of a better dress up? He liked to spoil, always had. Now, more than ever, he had the means to take it to completely nonsensical levels. Her ego could take it, if that was the price of leaving Bugs alone.

Shivs indicated his everything with an up and down wave of her free hand. "No way to afford the good stuff on a waiter's salary."

He let go of the fabric to brush his thumb across the smear of grease paint near the collar, staining his skin and the gold of his ring red.

"Or a dud's haul." 

He hooked the silk kerchief from his vest's breast pocket and wiped his hand. She followed the length of his arm up to his face.

"The entertainment isn't half bad."

“Yes.” He chewed the butt of his cigar, derision twitching his thin lips as he tucked the kerchief into an inside pocket of his coat. “His pathetic antics can be mildly amusing.”

Shivs’ grip on the cigarillo tightened, but she smiled pleasantly. “I like it when a man can make me laugh,” she said, pointing at him with the thin smoke between her fingers. “Even if at his own expense.”

She frowned at his broad back when he turned away from her without a witty reply, retreating to the button tufted camelback near them.

“You're not here for a social call,” Crocodile stated as he sat down, putting his arms along the sofa's curved back. Something flitted past his pale eyes, but it was gone so fast Shivs couldn't nail it. “What do you want, doll?” 

Shivs rolled back and forth on the balls of her feet, pursing her lips as if preparing to drive a hard bargain. She intended to seem casual, unconcerned. But her palms were slick with sweat and her heartbeat drummed in her ears. She filled her mouth with smoke, tasting the rich flavours. Savouring them before blowing it out in small puffs through her pursed lips.

"I want you to leave him be," she said, extinguishing the cigarillo in his ashtray.

Crocodile shifted and put his shin across his knee. Her gaze flicked down and she saw him take note. 

"And if I do?"

She held his gaze. One breath, two breaths, moved her jaw but didn't form the words. She wanted him to leave Buggy alone. Even if that meant taking his… beating, instead.

He blew out smoke through his nose, waiting patiently for her answer. The hint of a smile lingered as his pale eyes held hers from above the waterline of his scar. And in that moment, he reminded her so strongly of a lurking crocodile. Watching. Waiting. Biding its time to strike. It sent a shiver down her spine, and not entirely out of fear.

Shivs pursed her lips, steeled her emotions, checked her resolve. I'll do it for you, Bugs. It's a deal I know he won't refuse.

She met his intense gaze head on, then dropped hers slowly to his crotch once more. Allowed it to linger there, before looking back up.

He chewed the butt of his cigar and beckoned her. "You never could fit all of me down that skilled throat of yours." 

Shivs watched him uncross his legs as she approached. She trailed her fingertips along his clothed thighs before leaning on them. It brought her face level with his and she deliberately took a moment to breathe in his secondhand smoke. 

“Want to judge if that hasn't changed for the worse?” she whispered against his lips as she savoured the distinct flavours that made up his private blend. 

Strong muscles flexed and relaxed under her palms, and she presumed that to mean ‘yes’. 

She ran her hands down his muscular thighs, taking in their shape until her palms rested on his knees. His breathing changed, she could tell from the way he exhaled smoke. Denser palls, deeper breaths. No resistance as she pushed his knees apart far enough to kneel between them.

Brushing her fingertips across his overstated belt buckle, she smiled to herself. Some things never changed. She slipped the tooled tip through the frame, her movements slow and deliberate as she listened for the subtle shifts in his breathing. She loosened the prong with a sharp tug on the strap, using more force than was strictly necessary. An undercurrent of need laced the grunt that escaped him in response. 

Shivs reached into his pants with both hands, catching his gaze as she drew his penis out, feeling it swell against her palms. She made a noise of appreciation as she let her hands slide down his shaft. His pale eyes hunting after hers when she broke their gaze to look at her fingers fitting around the base. She had not forgotten how tall this part of him was.

Leaning forward, she trailed teasing kisses from halfway down his shaft towards the tip. I’ve swallowed swords longer than this, and dicks aren’t even sharp, she thought as she flicked her tongue past the rim, playful-like. Length was only half the problem though, she knew that perfectly well.

She put a hand on his thigh and leaned on it as she ran the flat of her tongue across the head and took him into her mouth, suckling the tip. Inched his cock further with deliberately slow, short bobs, tilting her head to ensure he’d catch every movement of her lips as they worked around him. Need strained his stoic expression when she stole a glance up. A twitch of his eyebrows when the tip bumped against the back of her mouth. She sucked down and drew his cock back out, watched it twitch and his grip tighten on the backrest as she felt his thigh flex under her palm.

She took him into her mouth again and ran the tip of her tongue along the underside of his cock. Relaxed her neck and let it slip further than before, teasing at the entrance to her throat. Nudging it, stretching it just a bit before sucking down and drawing him back out, tasting precum for her efforts.

The frustrated groan that rumbled up from somewhere deep within his broad chest sent sparks flying down her spine. This is gonna work, she thought as he reached for her head, petted her hair while she teased the precum from him with fleet, wet kisses.

“Stop messing around and swallow my cock, sweetheart,” Crocodile grunted, pale eyes alight with hunger. The petting stopped, fingers tangling into the hair at the back of her neck instead. It was like the twitch on the line that told a fisherman to react.

Shivs glanced up along his hard shaft, and reeled him in: 

“Yes, Sir.”

The horny groan that drew from him, before she’d even begun to take him again, settled comfortably in her bones. Gotcha, she thought.

Shivs breathed slow, deep, steady breaths as she slid his cock along her tongue, lining him up. The head pushed past the entrance of her throat and she switched to shallow breaths through her nose. The grunts and huffs that escaped him every time she swallowed were inhuman and she needed more of it.

She slid his cock further down, felt his thighs tremble as she did. The closer she got, the more his musk pervaded every stifled breath she managed around his thick cock. It was a heavy, heady scent and she shifted her position to press her thighs together. He didn’t notice.

She stroked his legs, ran her hands up to his hips as she leaned closer, and took him deeper still. His fingers were fisted painfully tight into her hair, but his large hand followed her without force or resistance, resting heavily against the back of her neck.

Almost. 

Almost there.

And then the tip of her nose bumped against his flat stomach. She could hardly smirk with his dick this far down her throat but counted on the crinkle of her eyes to work for her as she caught his gaze and slowly raised her hands, palms up. She didn’t care that they trembled. 

Look. No hands, motherfucker.

Crocodile grinned down at her through a huff of smoke, cigar dangling between his teeth. She thought it looked a little worse for wear.

“The pathetic clown doesn’t know what a dirty little slut you are, does he?” Crocodile said, his gravelly voice thick with lust as he petted the back of her neck. “Giving such sweet head to save his sorry hide.” He ran his fingers along her throat as if trying to feel how far down his cock had gone. “I always knew you could do it, sweetheart.”

“Now,” he added as he huffed out a pall of smoke and she felt cool metal sliding around the back of her neck, barring a retreat. “I need my cock-hungry doll to make me feel good.”

Shivs dropped her hands to his hips, gripping the folds of hard muscle there for support. She slid her tongue between her bottom lip and the underside of his cock, making sloppy little noises with the slightest bob of her head. Even those small movements pressed the round curve of his hook into the back of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine that made her squeeze her thighs together. She didn’t bother to try and hide it.

His large hand joined his hook, strong fingers digging into the back of her head, twisting into the hair there and holding her put as his thick cock twitched so far down her throat she didn’t even know anymore where precisely she felt it. She worked her throat around him, drawing rumbling moans from him that pitched.

“Ah -nngh- you feel so good, doll. So. Damn perfect.” His thighs tensed under her arms, flexing his hips with short jerks. She closed her eyes as she swallowed around him, frowning with effort. His breathy grunts as he lightly fucked her throat made her pussy throb.

Suddenly, his grip tightened like a vice and he shoved her nose-first against his hard, trembling stomach muscles, stealing her breath. Her eyes flew open as her throat strained and cramped, swallowing around him in reflex.

 “Fuck, honey. Ah---! Yes, yes.” The satisfied, drawn-out moan as Crocodile spilled his hot cum down her throat reverberated through the quiet office. 

Her fingers dug around his hips, tears jumping into her eyes as she gagged, feeling cum come up around his cock as stars danced into her vision. His grip weakened as he rode out his orgasm and she pulled back before he was quite done pumping cum. Shivs swallowed it mindlessly while coming up for air. His dick slid wetly out of her throat and mouth, streaks of cum connecting them before they broke.

She glanced up from his softening cock, glistening with her saliva all the way to the hilt. He’d tilted his head back, held his cigar nowhere near his mouth as he came down from his orgasm with deep, steadying breaths that expanded his wide chest and flared his nostrils.

He straightened with a lazy groan and a roll of his broad shoulders. 

Shivs met his gaze, panting.

“You’re still my pretty little thing, aren’t you?” Crocodile said, his gravelly voice breathy as he reached for her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. The gold of his ring was smooth where his fingertip felt rough, the warm touch grounding her fried senses. It lingered at her eyepatch, lightly brushing the faded leather. “The things we let people do to our faces…”

He hooked the kerchief from his pocket and dabbed her mouth. She reached for his hand with both of hers, touching the back of it, taking the cloth. She watched him watch her as she cleaned her face.

“Don’t you have a new pretty thing? Miss Face-of-the-Casino in her cute kimono?” Shivs forced her tone to be casual, edged with light mockery, maybe. It was stupid that it’d stung when she’d seen the younger woman. An irrational, petty feeling. An old pain. And, none of her business, at any rate.

The dismissive look that flitted past his pale eyes was rather unexpected. “An investment, nothing more.”

“She’s pretty,” Shivs said. Perhaps, part of the sting had been the fact that Miss Pretty had not responded to her the way women did when they were into other women.

Crocodile looked at his cigar before putting it back in his mouth. “That she is.”

Their gazes crossed and she pursed her lips. He reached for her jaw, fingertips grazing its curve. Then leaned down and pressed a peck against her frown. She sat up and chased after him as he took another draw from his cigar, stole the aromatic smoke from him as she teased her tongue into his mouth. He blew it out through his nose, taking the cigar from his mouth as he caught the back of her neck with his hook and took control of the kiss.

“You can have one if you like, sweetheart,” he said when they broke apart, indicating his cigar. 

And lord, if she wasn't tempted.

“You share ‘em these days?”

His derisive ‘hmph’ made her smirk as she rose to her feet. 

“What about Miss Pretty? She enjoy your… cigars?” Shivs said, and noticed she’d gotten his cum all over Buggy’s sweater. Shit.

Crocodile glanced at her, pale eyes searching. “I prefer making deals with those who have something of value to offer, doll.”

Shivs put her hands in her pockets and rocked up on the balls of her feet with a mildly overacted grin. “Oh, it’s a deal then? You’ll play nice?”

“My compliance doesn’t come that cheap,” he said through a huff of smoke.

She crooked an eyebrow, risking a hint of ridicule in her tone. “Cheap? And here I was, thinking I have a unique skill up for offer.”

He actually cracked a smile as he flicked the butt of his cigar into the general direction of his desk and ashtray. Then beckoned her with hook and hand. 

“Come here, doll.”

It would have been too easy.

She sauntered back to him and linked her fingers with his, curling the others around his hook, letting him draw her into his lap, straddling his thighs. He shifted so his cock was between them, pressing against her clothed cunt.

“What else will it cost me?” she said as she rested her hands on his shoulders, lightly riding against him. Every rub along his dick pulsed pleasure up her spine, and she hadn’t failed to notice it was already stiffening again.

He stoked the tip of his hook along her cheek as his large hand took in the shape of her firm butt, guiding her movement. “I want to know if your tight pussy can take all of me now, too.”

“Here, on a couch?” she said as she slipped her fingertips under his coat and pushed it off his shoulders. She trailed her hands down the revers of his vest, grabbed hold of them as she dry humped against him. “I thought you said you weren’t cheap?”

The bark of laughter that drew from him shouldn’t make her smile the way it did.

He pressed a kiss against it. 

“I wouldn’t dare, honey,” Crocodile said as he gathered her up in his arms and rose smoothly from the couch, leaving his coat behind. He strode across his study and through the adjacent library to the expansive bedroom beyond. She remembered the sweeping view from its curving window wall and the sea of nightlights twinkling far below.

Instead of depositing her on his spacious bed, he set her down on the plush rug beside it. And motioned up and down her clothes with a dismissive gesture. “Take those rags off.”

Not my rags, Shivs thought as she kicked her boots aside, removed her baggy pants and grabbed the edge of the sweater. She didn’t wear a bra. She didn’t like them, and she hadn’t bothered wearing one this evening either.

Fingertips traced the lacy sides of her underwear while she had the sweater pulled over her head.

“You still have those.”

He sounded…not surprised. Curious, maybe?

“No reason to get rid of perfectly fine underwear,” she said as she freed herself from the sweater, finding he’d already undressed.

“They can stay on,” he said as she folded the sweater, her hand lingering on it before she turned to him.

“For now?”

A smile twitched the corner of his lips. 

“Here, doll.” He held something out to her, cream-coloured and neatly folded. It seemed small and delicate in his large hand.

When she took it, the fabric cascaded into a surprisingly classy, mid-thigh negligee of shimmering silk. The top was constructed from intricately detailed lace with tiny bananawani worked into the pattern.

“Pretty,” she said as she brushed a finger across the delicate lace. She put it on and it fit her so neatly it felt like a second skin. An outrageously luxurious second skin for the silk felt soft as sin and the lace light as air. She turned a full circle on her tiptoe, overacting it just a little. She knew he liked that.

“Looks good on you.” He reached for her head, combing his fingers through her tangled red hair, tucking stray bangs behind the strip of her eyepatch. “I’d never let you get so grimy.”

“Can’t be a dirty little slut if you wash me.”

“Hah.” Crocodile leaned down and scooped her up into his arms, just like that. “Come here before I shove my cock down your throat again to shut you up.”

“Don’t tempt me- ah!”

Her reply cut off when he suddenly let go, dropping her into his bed. And that was quite the distance, even if the landing was soft. He immediately climbed on top of her, caging her with his much larger body. She spread her legs, accommodating his wider hips as he reached for her breast. His thumb traced circles around her nipple through the fine lace, stiffening at his touch.

“Like what you see?”

“Always have, doll,” he rumbled against her collarbone. Though no longer smoking, she could still smell it on him. Would be able to pick it out of a crowd. Subtle tones that reminded her of burnt coffee, dry glass and cinnamon, mingling with the faint wax smell of his hair gel and heavier citric notes of his cologne.

A small gasp escaped her when he brushed the lace down and kissed her hard nipple, taking it into his mouth and licking the sensitive tip. She felt the curve of his hook press against her hip, hitching up the silk as his hand slipped between her thighs. Strong, confident fingers pressed against the fabric of her panties and outer labia underneath. It ignited old desires, flickering life into fires she’d thought snuffed out.

His rough fingers traced the delicate lace, undulating with its curling, stylised waves. Her breath caught when they found the edge along the crease of her thigh. A mewl on her lips as he dipped them under the smooth fabric, fingertips grazing the warm, sensitive skin of her outer labia and sending sparkles of anticipation up her spine. The delicate fabric stretched with an alarming whimper from the seams as strong digits brushed between her folds, not quite able to reach. He grunted against her breast at the soaked pussy he found there.

She felt him slip the hook under the edge, warm from resting against her hip. The thought of him pulling her panties down with it lit up every nerve in the vague vicinity of her hips. Her eyes snapped open at the sharp jerk, the sudden cry of fabric tearing at the seam between silk and lace. 

Shivs made a noise, nose wrinkling. Those were the nicest-.

“I’ll get you new ones,” Crocodile promised against the curve of her breast, his gaze down as he hooked the fabric from her hips. The hunger in his pale eyes as he looked at her pussy made her spread her legs further. He leaned down to caress her labia and press a light kiss against them that made her throb, thinking about his tongue.

A breathy huff escaped Shivs when he slid his middle finger between her folds instead, running slow circles around her inner labia. Gathering the moisture there before teasing them apart and brushing across her clenching entrance. Pleasure sizzled up her spine when he pressed it inside, mapping her inner walls and finding all the right places far too easily. If he kept this up, she was going to come very soon.

He switched to her other breast, teasing the sensitive skin as he inserted a second finger. “I seem to remember you liked getting your little hole stretched,” he rumbled against her nipple, and spread his large fingers apart. She moaned at the strength in them, the ease with which they pried her open. It sent twinges of sweet, sweet pressure blazing through the haze of need fogging her thoughts.

She reached down to his hand, stroke the back of it. Found his thumb and guided it against her clit with a needy moan. Her thighs trembled as he massaged it firmly, pushed his fingers all the way in, then spread them as he pulled out. She felt his knuckles and the hard edges of his rings press into her labia when he pushed them back in but she didn’t mind, kind of liked it. She reached a hand for his shoulder, neck, grabbing hold of the tout muscle there as she arched her back towards him. His pace was torturously slow and she was loving it.

Shivs let out a drawn out whine when he stopped, pulled at his neck, wrist, knowing perfectly well neither will give an inch but trying, anyway. She tried to clench her thighs, rub them together, nurse the need smouldering in her veins, but his knees were between hers and she writhed in vain.

Crocodile shifted unto his elbow, bunching the silk further up her hips while taking his hard dick in hand. A hoarse whisper close to her ear as he guided the head against her slick pussy: “Won’t you beg for my cock, sweetheart?”

“I need to feel your cock in me,” Shivs said as she caught his hungry gaze. “Feel it fill me, stretch me.”

He grunted with barely contained need, she could see it in the straining of his back as she reached for his thick neck, folding her hands behind it. Felt it in the way his hips twitched as he pressed his shaft through her wet folds, coating it with her juices.

“Am I not a good girl, sir?”

“Yes, you are.”

Shivs moaned loudly when he entered her. Whined at the delicious pressure as he pushed deeper into her soaking wet pussy, stretching her around him. She clung to his neck, mewling with incoherent need. Her hand went to his hair, messing it up but not caring. Neither did he.

“Ah -ngh- fuck,” Crocodile grunted, his breath hot against her neck.

Shivs held onto him for dear life as she arched against his hard body, savoured the sharp pleasure of him stretching her cramping, soaking cunt wide enough to plough through. He’d not bottomed out yet. If she could take him, she’d have him wrapped around her finger.

“You’re. Fuck. As tight. As I remember. Sweetheart,” Crocodile groaned into her neck, his gravelly voice strained to the point of being near unintelligible. It was getting tougher and tougher to push further through her tight, contracting walls.

“Almost there,” Shivs whispered as she brushed a stray bang of dark hair from his eyes.

The noise he made in response was inhuman and she drank it in as she closed her eyes, spread her legs further to accommodate his hips and relaxed every muscle she could still feel. A whimper bubbled from her lips when he pushed up against something deep within her that twitched a pleasure so sharp up her spine it sat right next to pain. 

“Fuck, yes,” he ground out as his hips pressed flush against hers, his breath hot, heavy pants buffeting against the crook of her neck. “Feels. So good.”

He managed to push himself up onto his elbow, satisfaction animating his whole face as he looked at their joined hips, her soft labia squashed against his pubes. Shivs whimpered, his movement nudging tight bursts of pleasure deep within her. 

“I knew you could do it, doll.” His tone was thick with lust, laboured from his heavy breathing. He gently brushed a strand of sweat-slick red hair from her forehead with his hook, looking so proud. “You like getting your little cunt stuffed, don’t you?"

Shivs gave a sharp nod, struggling to form words.

“I know you do, honey,” he whispered as he rolled his hips against hers, not truly thrusting. She reached for his face with trembling hands, stroking his hard jaw. He grunted under his breath with each push and she pressed pecks against the puffs of hot breath until he responded. Until he chased her tongue back into her own mouth and pressed her head back into the pillow with the desperate force of his kiss, demanding entrance with his tongue that she was more than willing to give. 

“That's all you g-got?” she whispered through a moan and a bated breath when they broke their kiss for want of air. “I b-barely feel it.”

“Ah? You want more, doll?” Crocodile pulled out with a grunt, just a fraction, before shoving himself back inside her to the hilt, making her mewl with pleasure through clenched teeth as his cock bottomed out and up against her cervix. “Shall I take you back to my study? Pound you bend over my desk, like I used to?”

Shivs whined into his mouth as she latched onto him again, arms tightening around his thick neck as her cunt squeezed around his cock from the pleasure coiling around her spine. If he took her from behind, he could probably push deeper still. Oh, she’d be in trouble.

“Who’s cheap now, hrm?” A breathy hum into her ear as the obscene slap of his hips against hers filled his bedroom. She whined in need, the heady mix of mind numbing pleasure laced with an edge of pain making her tremble against him. “Do you want to be my little whore again? My pretty fuck slut to sit on my cock whenever and wherever I want?”

All she could do was whine and roll her hips to meet his steady thrusts. Fingers digging into the taut muscles across his shoulders, keeping him close as he fucked her deeper than she’d ever felt a man, even him. She whimpered, the heady mix of mind numbing pleasure laced with an edge of pain all but overwhelming her. Especially when he thrust just right, shoving his cock against a sensitive spot so deep inside her she didn’t even know she had it.

“I missed my. Pretty cocksleeve,” Crocodile grunted into her ear. “The. Only. Little slut that can take me -hng- properly.”

“Fuck me harder,” Shivs whispered, hands massaging his broad shoulders. He groaned with effort, she could feel the bridled strength in the muscles working under her palms. His pace picked up, and so did the strain in his body. Every thrust stretched her so deliciously, stimulating every needy nerve inside of her. 

“Do it,” she moaned wantonly as his thrusts started to push her up on the bed, her weight no match against his strength. “I c-can take it.”

“Ah - hng- you’re. Going to. Make me cum, doll,” he growled through clenched teeth. He grabbed her shoulder, holding her in place as he jerked his thrusts up against her. Her mind was unravelling. The only thing she could think about was his cock filling her, burning up every single nerve she had as needy pleasure coiled in her belly. She wanted him to cum. She really did.

When he paused, she struggled to comprehend why. Her gaze found his. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his mouth slack to accommodate the deep breaths heaving his chest. He was barely holding still, strain thrumming through every inch of his large frame above her.

“Does. My pretty little thing want. Cum as deep in her tight pussy. As her pretty throat?”

She whined, pulled at his neck with both hands. “Y-yes.”

“Beg. For it.”

“P-please,” she whimpered as she tried to make him move, weakly rolled her hips towards him. 

“Please what?”

“Please, s-sir.”

The noise he uttered in response to that settled somewhere at the primal base of her brain. She wanted, no, needed, to hear it again.

“Please, sir. Pound my needy hole like I deserve,” she mewled into his ear, savouring the way his breath hitched, that noise came again. 

“Damnit, doll,” Crocodile grunted through clenched teeth as he picked up a pace that became quickly rougher, slightly erratic. He locked his hold on her shoulder, broad fingers digging around her thin muscles and narrow bones, keeping her put as he pounded into her soaking, cramping cunt. “Gonna fuck you so full, you'll be leaking my cum well into tomorrow.”

“Please, please, pleaaasse,” she whined and clenched around him as he fucked her into the sinfully soft matrass with long, deep strokes that shoved his cock shamelessly up against her cervix to fit it all in. She wanted, needed, to cum around it, desperate for release. “Fuck me full of cum, sir. Stuff my tight cunny like you did my slutty mouth.”

“I -ngh- will, honey. I am,” he ground out, barely intelligible as his pace lost all semblance of rhythm and he bucked against her in the grip of his orgasm’s first throes.

“Oh! Yes, yes,” she moaned as he shoved his throbbing cock as far as she could take it, cumming against the deepest corner of her cunt as she shuddered around his cock with unfulfilled need. He stayed buried inside her as he came down, breath erratic before steadying, slowing. She whimpered in need, clenching around his softening cock. She hadn’t been able to cum around it like she wanted. It was too thick to cramp enough for a proper orgasm. She knew that, but had thought maybe this time…

He knew it, too. Remembered it.

“You’re still my pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he said as he caressed her cheek, ran his thumb across her parted lips. “Unable to cum around a cock like a big girl.”

She made a small noise that he swallowed in a kiss.

They stayed that way until her breathing steadied as well. Then he sat up and gathered her into his lap. She held onto him, her cheek against his collarbone. Not quite ready yet to let go.

“You look parched, doll,” Crocodile said as he brushed a bang from her eyes.

Shivs peered up at him. “I would not say ‘no’ to a sweet white.”

A noise escaped him that could have been a fond one as he lifted her off his lap and rose. The sound of his retreating footsteps filled the quiet. He’d gone to his study, judging by the distance. Shivs got up as well and shimmied the negligee down. Despite everything, she did not feel like taking it off. It felt nice against her flushed skin.

She sauntered to the curved window wall and found the view precisely as she remembered it. A sea of nightlights twinkled across the city below, mirroring the deep blue, star-speckled sky above. The moon hung low, waning from view. It wasn’t long before he returned. She heard him uncork a bottle behind her and fill two glasses. The snap and swoosh of his lighter. The familiar scent of his cigar preceding him as he came to stand beside her, still naked.

He held a glass out to her, a cigarillo clamped against its curve. The wine was a deep bronze instead of the pale yellow usual to white wines. She accepted the glass and smoke, gaze lingering on the narrow slot through its delicate stem. It allowed him to hold them with his hook without slipping. She glanced sideways and up at him. A fond smile twitched her lips when she noticed his hair was neater than before. He’d evidently taken a comb to it for a hot second.

Shivs put the cigarillo in her mouth and turned to find his lighter lying on the nightstand beside the wine bottle, and a corkscrew with its split cork still attached. She glanced at the label as she lit the cigarillo. It read ‘1811’ in large, proud capitals, and a name in a curving script she couldn’t be bothered to try and decipher. She would not be able to afford it, anyway.

Taking a sip, she returned to his side. The wine was sweet, indeed. With hints of lime, honey, saffron. She made herself comfortable against him, her bum resting on his thigh. “It’s a nice view,” she said as she blew out a thin pall of smoke.

He glanced down at her and their gazes crossed as he idly stroked her hip. “It is.”

Shivs leaned into his touch, sipping the wine. It really was, very good.

“Clever scheme you’ve gotten up to, in order to save the loser’s sorry hide,” Crocodile remarked as he blew a smoke ring against the narrow cloud she’d just produced. “But it has a flaw.”

Shivs let her weight shift from his thigh to his loin, only the soft silk between them. “You sure?”

A self-satisfied smile twitched behind his cigar as he gave her hip a squeeze. “None of this will work on Dracule.”

Only because I don’t have a penis, she thought, but no matter. They may have both grown older, but Croki was still fundamentally the same man she’d left years ago. And that would work for her, she was sure of it. Inevitably, Mihawk would pick on Bugs. She would take it upon herself to get irritatingly upset about it. Mihawk would no doubt insult her next, and Sir Self-Satisified here would take it personally by-proxy and shut him up. It’d be a win.

“I’ll think of something,” Shivs said as she blew a thin pall through his smoke ring, dispersing it.

He glanced at her, amused. “He’s partial to good wine, at least.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

She nipped her own wine, idly rubbing her thighs together. Pleasure skulked around the base of her spine, denied but not forgotten. She made a little noise against her glass when she felt his hand move up her thigh, his thumb brush under the edge of the negligee.

“Still needy?” he said as he bunched up the fine silk, rubbing his middle and ring finger against her clit in slow circles. It sent lazy sparks of pleasure straight to her brain. Drawing a shuddering whimper from her as he dipped his middle finger between her folds.

“Cum for me, honey,” Crocodile rumbled as he lightly ran the tip of his finger along the inner rim of her vagina, then teased the sensitive spot further down. Shivs gasped through her moan as the briefest shudder of an orgasm stole over her like a thief in the night. It was not enough, not nearly enough.

“N-need more,” she said as she put the glass down with a wobble. Reached for his large hand when he stopped, withdrew, tugging it back. Bunching two of his fingers together, of a mind to stick them into herself if he didn't.

“Come to our board meeting tomorrow. You’ll come sit with me and I’ll take good care of your needy little hole.” He shook her fussy touch and caught her pubes, massaging his palm firmly against her soft cunt, pressing her bum against his cock. “You can ride my palm like you used to, and I’ll make you cum on my fingers till your tight pussy is sore from cramping around them.”

Shivs wasn’t particularly keen on doing any of this semi-publically, least of all anywhere Bugs would be. Though she feared she wouldn’t be able to talk herself out of this, as easily as she’d talked herself into it.

“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll leave the pathetic clown alone,” Crocodile promised as he stroked her flat belly with the rounding of his hook. “Can’t beat the loser if my hand is occupied with something sweeter, hm?”

Shit. She had to tell Bugs. Forewarned, forearmed, and all that. She turned in his hold, his hand moving to her butt instead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she said, but he caught her wrist when she took a step back.

“Ah, ah,” he admonished as he stopped her, pulled her with him, back into bed. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

“I, what? Why?” 

Suddenly, she wanted to leave as he gathered her against him, nestling her into his lap and chest, spooning his large body around her like a cage. She wanted to leave, wanted to go to Buggy and cry when he guided his cock back inside her still moist pussy with an incriminating noise and a satisfied rumble. She’d meant to turn this trick and tell Buggy about it. Tell him her plan to manipulate the ex-warlord to leave him alone, to leave them alone. Tell him it had worked. 

Shivs pushed herself on her elbow but Crocodile pulled her back down to him.

“Stay,” he said as he hooked the fluffy underblanket and silk cover sheets about them, his arm around her waist, hand on her hip.

“Why.” She had to tell Buggy, but now she couldn’t. She’d left after they’d gone to bed. She hadn’t told him yet. He didn’t know. He’d wake up alone.

Crocodile stroked the midline of her belly with the tip of his hook, rippling the cream-coloured silk as it moved up her chest, counting to the fifth rib. The one behind which her heart sat.

“Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

A quiet sob escaped her.

"Ssh, sleep, honey," Crocodile whispered into her hair, fingertips stroking her hip. “I’ll take good care of you tomorrow.”

~

Honourary mention tags: @smut-goblin , @ruledbyproblematique , @gingernut1314 , @swirlsofblackandwhite

(N/A): To anyone reading & making it to the end. Writing this has consumed me the past days. I want to know what you think! What did you like? What made you laugh? Was there something specific you noticed? Something you now wonder about? I am 100% open to lengthy comments and blow by blows, ngl. I am obsessed with this.

If you want for more, I jotted down some of my own thoughts regarding this debacle. I may also be plotting another stint. Because Impel Down, do you understand me??

[candycandy00]

The Trade Part 3 - A Dabi x Reader Zombie AU

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Smut. 18+. Zombie Apocalypse AU. Oral, stripping, voyeurism, handjobs. I know I said part three would be the final part but it got too long!

The following week was more eventful than your past several months in the woods combined. The most notable change was the number of zombies wandering into the woods. You ran into them occasionally before. It’s not like they were a particularly rare sighting. But now you were seeing multiple zombies each day. You avoided most of them, either climbing trees until they passed you by or simply going the long way around a certain area. A few times you had been forced to kill them. 

You also ran into Touya more often, three times in one week. The first time you found him in his camp, the sound of jangling metal cans alarming you before you even saw him. A group of zombies were stumbling over the wires to get to him, the biggest group you’d seen since you’d stopped going near cities. There had to be at least twelve. 

There were already five dead at Touya’s feet, and he was swinging his bat like a madman, screaming curses at the zombies as dark, dead blood flew through the air. You hurried over and killed a couple yourself, but he really hadn’t needed your help. Once he’d calmed down, he’d seemed happy to see you. Almost immediately, he’d offered a trade. You could rest in his camp and eat a hot meal with him in exchange for a handjob. It was a hell of a deal, so you accepted. 

You sat beside him on a log as he watched the small fire, his pants open, his cock hard and standing straight up. You carefully stroked his length, using the precum leaking from his tip as lube. You started slow, then worked up speed as he moaned for you to go faster, harder. His head was tossed back, the scarred flesh of his neck exposed and somehow alluring. 

The way he groaned and reflexively thrust his hips up against your hand excited you. And when he finally began twitching in your grip, you knew he was close. Just before the first shots of cum escaped, you suddenly leaned over and wrapped your lips around him, catching the warm fluid in your mouth. 

You heard his surprised voice saying, “H-hey! You don’t have to do that…”

But his voice died away as you used your tongue to clean him up. When finished, you sat back up and wiped your mouth. 

“I thought this would be better than avoiding stepping in it all night,” you said, trying to sound indifferent. 

He stared at you for a moment, as if trying to figure something out, those beautiful blue eyes making you feel self conscious. “I’m not complaining,” he finally said, then stood up from the log. 

The second time you ran into him, you were fleeing four zombies that had cut off your path in the woods. You had slammed your heavy backpack into the head of one of them, but apparently not with enough force to destroy its brain, as it had simply climbed back to its feet. 

You were running toward a tree you’d passed earlier that looked easy enough for you to climb but still high enough that the zombies couldn’t reach you. As you fled, one of them had grabbed hold of your hair and pulled you back. You screamed and thrashed, losing your composure. You hadn’t been in this much danger since the early days of the outbreak. 

Suddenly the zombie’s grip had loosened, and you turned to see Touya, smashing the brains of all four of them in quick succession. When they were all dead, you stood there, shaking. 

Touya had only said, “Come with me,” and led you to his camp. He gave you food and water and didn’t ask for anything in return. He even let you sleep there that night without any sort of trade involved. 

Now you were on your third encounter. You’d found his van in the woods, and walked around it until you spotted him, messing around with a small side compartment. When he looked up and saw you, his eyes went wide. He suddenly took hold of your arm and pulled you closer, then pushed your back against the side of the van. The backpack you’d slung over one shoulder fell to the ground. 

You were surprised, because he’d never been this aggressive since that first time he found you looting his van. His body was so close to yours that you could feel his body heat, and he placed one hand on the van beside your head. 

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he said, and there was a hunger in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. 

Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure he could hear it. But you kept your voice steady and said, “Oh? And what kind of thoughts were you having about me?”

He leaned his face closer to yours. “I was just thinking how I haven’t really touched you yet. Not the way I want to.”

You couldn’t stop a blush from spreading over your face. What had gotten into him? Had he been feeling lonely? Or was he just frustrated that there had been no trade last time? You gave him what you hoped was a flirty grin and said, “Are you proposing a trade?”

He nodded. “Let me touch you, wherever I want,” he said in a husky voice. 

Your own voice sounded small and nervous by comparison as you asked, “What will you give me in return?”

His lips found your neck, just barely brushing over your skin, his metal piercings grazing over you in a way that sent shivers through your body. “Anything you want,” he answered, finally kissing your throat. 

You swallowed, trying desperately to keep calm. “Okay,” you said in a quiet voice, and that’s all the confirmation he needed. 

His hands moved over you greedily, sliding under your tank top and then under your sports bra, shoving them both above your breasts so that he could squeeze and grope the exposed flesh. Then his hands were unbuttoning your denim shorts. One hand slipped inside your panties, fingers eagerly parting your slicked folds to reach the hypersensitive nub within. 

You moaned, your hips instinctively bucking off the side of the van and against his fingers as two of them pushed inside you while his thumb stroked your clit. His mouth was still on your neck, but it was moving down toward your chest, where it eventually closed around one hard nipple. 

“T-Touya…”

He glanced up at you, but said nothing. His tongue ran over your breasts as his fingers pumped in and out of you. When your legs began to tremble, you put both your hands on his shoulders to keep from collapsing. His thumbnail lightly scraped over your clit, and you came on the spot, clenching around his fingers and moaning his name. 

Your legs gave out, and he quickly caught you in his arms, holding you steady until your orgasm passed. Then he stood back to give you space as you panted to regain your breath. When it was over, you buttoned your shorts and pulled your bra and shirt back down as Touya went back to work on his van. 

“So what do you want for the trade?” he asked, a little more sheepish than usual, as if he were embarrassed. 

You sat down on a nearby rock and watched him tinker in the side compartment. “I want you to tell me more about you, where you’re heading, who you were before all this, that kind of stuff.”

He looked over at you with a surprised expression, clearly not expecting that. He sighed and closed the compartment, then walked over and sat on a log across from you. “How about I answer five questions for you?”

“Deal,” you said, your mind already forming the questions. “For starters, what was that all about just now?”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“As soon as you saw me you were all over me,” you told him. “That’s not how you usually do things.”

He averted his eyes from yours, staring at the ground. “Two days ago I found some zombies eating someone at the base of a tree. There wasn’t much left of the person at that point. Just bones and gore mostly, and a few strands of hair… the same color as yours.” 

In your mind, you could picture the scene, and you could see how he would have jumped to conclusions. “So you thought I was dead.”

He nodded. “You sleep in trees. I thought maybe you fell out in the middle of the night, maybe even broke your back and couldn’t move while zombies gathered around you.”

A grizzly fate, and probably true for whoever the poor soul was that Touya had seen. But thankfully, it hadn’t been you. You felt a familiar heat in your face when you realized what his words meant. Suddenly his desperation for you took on a different meaning. 

“Got another question?”

“Yeah,” you answered, gathering your thoughts. “What did you do before the outbreak?”

“You mean like a job?” he asked. “Not really anything to be honest. I’d just got my license to do piercings at a tattoo parlor, but all this shit happened two days before I was supposed to start.”

Looking at him, at the various piercings dotting his face, his answer made sense. You tried to decide on your next question. You really wanted to ask how he got his scars, but you didn’t want to be insensitive. Above all, you didn’t want him to think the scars bothered you. If anything, the opposite was true. You found them intriguing. 

So you went in a different direction. “Why didn’t you want to stay with your family during all this?”

Touya stared at you for a moment, his blue eyes seeming to darken slightly. “I don’t get along with my old man, and he’s in charge of the whole household, even in a situation like this. He’s used to bossing people around I guess. Being a politician and all.”

You’d never been very interested in politics, so you probably wouldn’t have recognized his father if he told you his name. But you had always heard stories about “dirty” politicians. You couldn’t resist asking, “Was he the good kind of politician or the corrupt kind?”

Touya held your gaze as he said, “The kind that beats his wife and kids.”

Your mouth fell open, but you had no idea what to say. You thought for a moment, but all you could come up with was, “I’m sorry. That’s terrible.”

Touya shifted on the log. “Yeah, I know. And before you ask, I did try to get my mom and siblings to come with me. I didn’t just run off and abandon them. But they felt safer with him I guess. He’s supposedly trying to be a better person lately. Not that I’m buying it.”

You decided to drop the matter of his father and ask about something else that interested you. “How many siblings do you have?” 

His expression lightened a little. “Three. All younger. One sister and two brothers.”

“I’m surprised,” you said with a laugh. “You don’t give off big brother vibes at all.”  

Touya laughed too. “Took years of practice, trust me,” he joked. “And oh yeah, that was your fifth question.”

You were surprised. “What? Really? I thought that was four!” You went back over the conversation in your mind, and realized that you hadn’t counted when you asked what kind of politician his father was. You sighed dejectedly. “Oh yeah, I guess it was five.”

Touya grinned. “That completes our trade then.”

You were about to speak again when a loud gunshot rang out in the distance and put you and Touya both on alert. You both sat there perfectly still, listening. It was a rifle shot. You’d heard it occasionally over the past week, always far enough away that it didn’t directly endanger you, but too close to ignore. You glanced at Touya to find him wearing a grim expression. 

“Fucking idiots,” he muttered. “What kind of moron keeps firing off a gun? That’s why there’s so many zombies in the woods lately.”

“I think I know who’s doing it,” you told him. 

He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to go on. 

“The night before we officially met, two guys approached me in the woods. They had rifles. They knocked me out, tied me up, and made it clear they planned to rape me. I managed to get away and hide from them. Haven’t seen them since.”

Touya’s face had shifted from curious to disgusted. “Fucking animals. If you see them again try to lead them to me. I’ll bash their fucking balls in with my bat.”

You smiled at the thought. “Thanks. But they had a lot of weapons, including those rifles. I think they’re the ones firing the gun. I think they’re luring zombies to the woods on purpose. Maybe to smoke me out.”

He grinned again. “I can deal with their rifles. Don’t worry about that.”

After talking with him a few minutes more, you stood up and walked over to the van to retrieve your backpack, then pulled it onto your shoulders. 

Touya glared at you. “What are you doing?”

You shrugged. “Leaving?”

He frowned. “There’s more zombies out here than ever. You just told me you were almost raped by two guys with guns who might still be after you. Are you seriously gonna keep doing this alone?”

You were quiet for a moment, then said, “I didn’t hear any offers to let me stay.”

He sighed. “You need an invitation? Fuck it. Fine.” He stood up and looked you in the eyes. “Stay. At least until the gunshots stop and the zombies thin out. Stay with me.”

You thought you might melt into the ground at that moment, but instead you dropped your backpack onto the ground and went back to sit on the rock. “Okay,” you said, then flashed him a smile. “So what’s for dinner tonight?”

He laughed. “Get off your ass and help me make a fire first, freeloader.”

The two of you worked together to set up camp, not knowing at the time that your fragile sense of safety was about to be demolished in a few days. 

********

Three days later, the two of you parked the van in the woods, set up the wires and cans over the doors, then walked to the river to wash up. You decided to take turns bathing while the other kept watch, since there were so many zombies around. 

Touya went first, stripping off his clothes without a moment of hesitation and walking into the water with his soap. You tried to avert your eyes, but your gaze kept being drawn back to his toned, scarred form. 

“You can look at me,” he called from the river, wearing nothing but a grin, “just keep one eye on the woods!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you called back, scanning the trees for movement. Touya’s bat was lying at your feet. 

“You might as well,” he said, drawing your eye back to him as he was lathering up his hair. “I’m definitely gonna be looking at you when it’s your turn!”

You blushed and said, “Pervert!” But you were smiling. 

When Touya was finished, he dried off and dressed, then stared at you until you sighed and began peeling off your clothes. He watched, of course, though he had the decency to remain quiet. You didn’t feel as embarrassed as before, maybe because he’d seen you naked twice before, or maybe because you were just becoming more comfortable with him. 

You entered the water, which only came to about mid-thigh, and soaped yourself up. Even though Touya was keeping watch, old habits died hard, so you watched the woods as well. You had a strange feeling that you should hurry, so you quickly rinsed off and went back to the riverbank to dry off. Just as you were pulling on a clean pair of shorts, you heard it. 

Jangling cans. 

Touya heard it too. He picked up his bat as you pulled a T-shirt over your head, not bothering with a bra. He’d already shoved your dirty clothes in his own bag, so the two of you dashed into the trees, toward the van. 

You didn’t make it far. Just a few yards into the woods, you both spotted them: zombies, spread out all among the trees. You didn’t have time to count, but there had to be at least fifty. 

Touya backed up to stand right in front of you, the bat clenched in both hands. You pulled the knife from your thigh holster. The zombies had already noticed you and were closing in. 

You leaned close to Touya and asked, “Should we go back and cross the river?”

He shook his head. “No, they’d follow us and we’d just end up trapped on the other side with no supplies. We should try to break through them and get to the van.”

You nodded, but you definitely didn’t feel great about that plan. Your strategy had always been about evading danger, not fighting it. You could handle a couple of zombies but the sheer number of corpses shambling toward you now with their outstretched arms and snapping teeth made you want to sprint in the opposite direction. 

Touya took his eyes off the horde long enough to look at you over his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll protect you.”

Dark clouds were gathering in the sky, and as heavy raindrops began to pour down over the forest, Touya shifted the bat to one hand and took your hand in the other. Then, he ran into a narrow gap in the zombie herd, pulling you with him. 

Tag List: 

@crunchtits @jabberwocky-92 @myst1cfish @missrosegold @dreamybxnny @hotvillainapologist @faetheral @touyasmaid @dabislittleprincess @cutebutdelulu @snowprincesa1 

[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaiden pt.4

(Cersei x Fem Reader x Jaime. Sandor Clegane x Fem Reader)

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

WARNING: IMPLIED SA and Physical Abuse

The journey from that point was infinitely more pleasant. Not only because of the infinitely improved dynamic between yourself, your mistress, and her brother, but also because you'd finally mastered the basics of riding on your own.

"Ride by me today" Jaime advised you, acutely aware of the mounting tension between yourself and Clegane. "Sometimes it best to just steer clear of men like him"

It was stretching the bounds of protocol, a handmaid riding this close to the leader of the goldcloaks and member of the royal family, but you knew no one would question it if the queen approved.

It had been almost 3 weeks since you departed Kings Landing, and Winterfell was only a few days away by now. The North was beautiful country, much more sparsely populated than The South, and the inns grew farther and fewer between.

Some nights you camped out off the road and some nights you rode straight through without sleep.

By the final inn before reaching Winterfell, you were eager for sleep. You ate with the other servants in the dining hall that had been cleared for the royal party, but keep glancing up at the head table, constantly gauging if you were needed.

The king had been drinking far too much, growing loud and boisterous in a way that clearly embarrassed the queen, who took long drinks from her goblet with a deep frown.

When Cersei left the high table, you rose to follow her quickly.

"Shall l draw a bath, your grace?" You asked, knowing a hot bath was one of the best ways for you mistress to relax.

"No" she said shortly, "Just help me undress, we will be sleeping early tonight."

"Surely, Your Garce" you fumbled with the silken scarves and gown, more catching than undressing as her stripped with haste.

"Lock the door" she snapped. "Firmly"

You obeyed cooly, trying to maintain calm in the face of the Queen's obvious frustration.

You passed the evening in silence, the queen switching between pacing and sitting on the bed until the sun sank and the sky went black.

Before long, there was a heavy shuffling outside the door. It sounded as if someone was pressing their weight against the wall for support as they stumbled down the hall. Cersei stiffened and eyed the door cautiously.

"Your Grace?"

"Be quiet" she snapped in a harsh whisper.

The footsteps stopped outside the door and the door handle tried to turn, stopping firmly against the lock. There was another, harder turn followed by a violent jerking of the door against its hinges.

For a moment there was a heavy, tense silence before the room was full of the sound of cracking wood and squealing metal. You screamed at first, stumbling back in fear as King Robert ruefully examined the damage.

"Is that any kind of welcome for your king?" He rumbled, slurring his words.

"You're drunk" Cersei growled lowly. "Leave my room"

"No" Robert stumbled over to where she sat, leaning against whatever was available to steady himself. "Tonight, I will be with my wife"

You stared with large, frightened eyes at the exchange, but Cersei looked more annoyed than frightened.

"No, You've had too much too drink, there would be no point"

"You!" He wagged a sausage like finger in her direction "are my wife, and you will do a your King commands!"

Cersei looked him up and down a moment with disapproving eyes. "Y/N, leave us"

"But Your Grace!"

Her sharp green eyes flashed at you, "Did I say stand there and talk back? No, I said *Go*"

"Oh, let her stay if she wants" Robert half laughed, "Don't think I don't know you've been showing her your favors already"

Cersei drew in a long breath. "Out. Now"

You hesitated a moment before slipping out of the room, closing the door behind you.

To your surprise, you found Jaime stationed outside the door, face grim as a funeral. You stared at each other a moment before he sighed.

"This doesn't happen very often, not like it used to anyway" he assured you.

You frowned deeply, "It's not right"

"No" Jaime agreed, "it's not."

You waited dutifully beside him, trying to block out the sounds emanating from within the room. It did not last long, maybe 10 minutes.

When it was over, Robert came bumbling out and down the hall, not even noticing you or Jaime watching him go.

"Y/N" the voice that crawled it's way through the door was laced with venom. "Come. Here"

You swallowed hard but peered into the room before entering. Cersei was still clothed but her robe was rumpled, her golden locks a tousled mess in the back. Her face was drawn in tight, angry lines

"Your Grace."

Your head whipped to the side sharply, and then to the other side just as hard. Cercei's ringed fingers left red welts and small cuts across your cheeks as you began to tremble.

"Don't you *ever*, in your pathetic life, question me again." She grabbed a handful of your hair and shook you. The yelp you let out prompted Jaime to enter and blanched at the sight.

"I ought to have you lashed for your insolence, do you hear me?!"

"Yes, your grace." You sobbed, feeling some of the hairs at the back of your head begin to pull out of you scalp. "I'm so sorry, please I beg your forgiveness"

"Beg all you like." Cersei dropped you and watched as you scrambled backwards. "I want you out, I don't want to see your face or hear you voice until we reach Winterfell. Do you hear me?!"

You nodded in silence, fumbling to get to your feet and flee before you could face worse punishment.

Jaime watched you go with a blank expression before turning back to Cersei.

"That wasn't very nice."

"Shut up"

Jaime sighed, "it wasn't her fault, you know. She just didn't want to leave you alone."

"What she wants" Cersei growled. "Is irrelevant. She is here to serve *me* and obey *me*. If she can't do that, what is she good for?"

Jaime pulled an amused face and looked back at the door you fled through "I can think of a few things"

"Fine" Cersei spat at him, "take the little whore into your bed for the night, see if I care."

Meanwhile, in your flight you found yourself by the stables once again. You all but collapsed into an empty stall, trying to catch your breath and slow your racing thoughts.

She didn't mean that

Yes, yes she did. It was clear as the nose on her face.

No

You sobbed into your knees, hoping the hay you sat on would swallow you whole.

Jaime wandered out into the night, knowing better than to call out your name but at a loss wear to look first.

He followed the torch light from the stable and found Sandor Clegane sitting on a bench in front of one of the stall doors, sharpening his sword.

"Clegane" he called, "have you seen-?"

Clegane flashed him a look and raise a finger to his lips, jerking his head at the stall behind him.

Jaime peered over the door as he got closer and saw your curled up tightly in the straw, face still damp with tears.

"Cried herself out." Clegane grumbled. "Stupid girl didn't have the sense not to fall asleep where anyone could find her."

"I'll take her in" Jaime shook his head but Clegane jammed his foot again the stall door as the knight tried to open it.

"Why don't you just leave her be?" The Hound growled. "The both of you."

"What exactly are you implying?" Jaime jutted his jaw in indignation and The Hound stood up, towering over him.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He pushed but didn't elaborate further.

Jaime considered this a moment and smirked coldly. "Fine then. A good night to you both"

Clegane watched him go before sitting back down and returning to his blade, keeping a careful eye on each person who walked past the stable.

At dawn you rose when the sky was still grey and the sun was engulfed in clouds. A few souls stirred in the chilled morning air and you assessed where exactly you were. In a horse stall, thankfully a clean one.

A deep growl of a yawn pulled your attention and you sucked in a breath. Sandor Clegane had fallen asleep with his chin tucked into his chest, hand still wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

He blinked a moment, scanning this ground with his eyes before glancing at you and frowning.

"What kind of stupid girl falls a sleep out in the open like that?" Were the first words out of his mouth.

You flushed with embarrassment, both that he had found you and because he'd say up making sure no one else did.

"Thank you, ser"

"I'm not a ser, don't call me that" he yawned again, "Come here"

You stepped forward and flinched as he grasped your chin, running a thumb over your purplish swollen skin. The cuts had scabbed over but a few looked red and angry.

"I've seen worse" he sniffed "make yourself useful and fetch me some water will you?"

You moved to go but paused, replaying the events of last night in your mind.

"What is it?" Sandor rolled his eyes as you turned back to him.

"I- I think I got sacked last night" you said blankly. "I think the queen might have dismissed me?"

Sandor shrugged. "Good, that means you can help get the horses set."

You gaped at him a moment and he gave an exasperated sigh.

"Come on, if you're going to ride a horse you should know how to saddle one"

[joels6string]

More Than My Father's Son

Joel Miller x f!OC

Chapter 4 - Through the Leather

Summary: A horde of infected isn't the only thing you're forced to face out in the woods of Wyoming.

Rating: E

Word Count: 5.1k

Content: NSFW, high levels of violence normal to the TLOU world, angst, fluff, slow burn, miscommunication trope (it’s Joel Miller…), Joel’s traumatic childhood, getting together, eventual smut, canon divergence after SLC, fix-it fic

You should have known it would happen this way. At least you’d gone down fighting, and fighting for a purpose. If you had to die to keep the people of Jackson safe—for Ellie, for Joel—then so be it.

Chapter 3 || Series Masterlist

The dawn of a new summer morning had the toes of your boots glistening with dew. A fretful Maria had sent a group of ten, including you, your usual partner Indy, and the Miller brothers, out to clear the horde Tommy prayed hadn’t gone far. You and Joel had stayed yards apart as you collected ammo and saddled the horses, your eyes sliding to him too often, the feeling of his own prickling the hair on the back of your neck just as frequently. 

“Groups of two!” Tommy instructed, “You go twenty yards and straight on back, no one’s goin’ far, understood?”

A murmur of agreement echoed around the group, Indy slinging her arm around your shoulder, “Ready, partner?”

You’d forgotten how much sweeter the birds’ song sounded when the world was lit by the first light of day. Sleep had evaded you after your argument with Joel, guilt and self-loathing battling in your head as you watched the rain drop down from the browned spot in your ceiling. He had come bearing groceries, the mystery of how he got them so late at night beginning a spiral downward. You assumed some coordinated efforts by he and Maria, but knowing him, it was just as likely he knocked on the shopkeeper’s door after returning from wherever he’d gone and dragged them back in the rain.

“Question!” Indy sang from in front of you, turning to walk backward as she smirked, “When you’re not out here picking off runners one by one like some superhuman freak, what are you doing?”

“This Maria or Joel talking?” you replied with a laugh, her theatrically feigned offense reminding you why you preferred having her at your side for patrols. 

“Joel scares me a little, I gotta be honest. Glad he’s on our side, cause the last place I’d want to end up is at the end of his fucking machete. He’s too good with that thing.”

“Don’t tell him that. It all goes right to his head.”

A whistle had your gazes snapping back to the rendezvous point, a gunshot firing off setting your feet in motion as you sprinted towards the sound. Snarls and piercing screams previewed the scene before it came into view, a swarm of runners lumbering towards the line of shotguns and revolvers that awaited them. Joel was at the front and center, your eyes finding him with his trusty blade as you surveyed the area for a high vantage point, finding one that seemed safe enough on the roof of a ruined home. 

“Cover me while I get up,” you instructed Indy, who nodded as her own pistol was drawn, “Don’t go far. And don’t die.”

“Are you getting sentimental on me already, Deacon?” she teased, “Make me earn it.”

With a scoff through your nose, you bid her a safe farewell, weaving through the maze of firing guns and melee attacks, Indy’s gun echoing from behind you as she kept watch of your left. The roof was unsteady beneath your feet, the shingles giving away after years of rot, and your balance was tested as the air began to smell of gunpowder, a scent that calmed you far more than it should.

Despite a lack of sleep, your aim was unaffected, the quiver strapped to your back stocked with 20 arrows that you fired off with ease. The eagle-eyed view provided you with too good a look at the carnage, your eyes frantically sweeping for fallen comrades. The thundering of your heart in your ears provided the metronome you needed to stay focused until a beat skipped when you watched on with horror as a runner beelined for an unsuspecting Joel. It was out of your normal range, just slightly too far for accuracy, your vision tunneling as your feet took off over the beams uncaring of their integrity.

“Joel!” you screamed to no avail, you were too far away, “God damnit… JOEL!”

On unsteady feet, you hit the ledge of the roof and fired, a shrieking cry was the only hint of whether your arrow landed, the roof giving way beneath your feet and sending you hurtling to the ground, the impact pushing the air from your lungs too fast. Sputtering and dizzy you groaned as you tried to move, the world sounded as if it were underwater, your sight blurred entirely as you tried to focus on anything. 

“Fuck…” you grimaced, every inch of your body throbbing.

As your vision began to align, a beam jutting straight up barely a foot from your right had you gasping, your breath speeding up at the thought of being impaled. That wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined you’d go out. With a wince and a groan, you lifted yourself onto your elbows, spotting your now-stringless bow as the reality of your crushed quiver on your back set in. 

“Fuck,” you repeated, this time with anger, “Oh shit. Shit…”

That left you with a hunting knife and two magazines for your handgun, a handgun that had been tossed two yards behind you, a consequence of never clipping your holster shut. Joel would never let you live it down if he got wind of it. Moving still proved troublesome, every muscle still cramped and sore, your hearing beginning to regulate long enough to notice the gunshots had slowed. 

“Looks like it’s my lucky fucking day,” you muttered to yourself, flopping back down onto your back to catch the breath that had already evacuated your still-shellshocked lungs. 

It came out of nowhere, its deformed face streaked with blood and wild eyes coming within inches of your own. Your arms held it at bay with every ounce of strength you had left, the maniacal clacking of its teeth matching the frenzy with which it flailed against your waning defenses. Your knife was at your back, your gun too far to reach, and your left hand slammed against the ground for anything with weight, finding a large enough rock to stun the runner as you smashed it against its temple. The blow only gave it pause, but in those split seconds you pulled your knee to your chest and kicked, turning quickly to crawl to your gun that was now inches from your fingers after the struggle…until a strong grip caught you by the ankle, your body twisting in the hold as you watched those rotting teeth descend into your Achilles.

“No!” you screamed, pulling as hard as you could from your awkward position, your eyes wide in horror as you came upon the end. 

You should have known it would happen this way. At least you’d gone down fighting, and fighting for a purpose. If you had to die to keep the people of Jackson safe—for Ellie, for Joel—then so be it. You’d been on borrowed time already, let them profit from it. If you could reach your gun you could take care of it yourself, save whoever would volunteer the trouble. You knew deep down it would be Joel, his wish to have his hands cleaned of the blood he’d been bathing in for decades nothing more than an unattainable dream. 

As you watched the teeth disappear, the firing of a revolver echoed in the ruins you’d been shrouded by, the splatter of blood spraying across your face warm even in the August heat. The runner fell to your right as someone else dropped to your left, your body rigid with fear as your eyes met panicked hazel. 

He needed to get away. You were infected. Adrenaline lifted you onto your hands, scrambling you away from him as he tried to look at what you already knew was there. You’d seen it happen. 

“Don’t,” you gasped, searching for your pistol while your gaze stayed locked on Joel as he followed, his palm trapping your calf to the ground with an iron grip.

“Stop!” It was a command, and you froze.

The click of his pocket knife was all you heard, the voices around you drowning out as your head fell back beneath the waters of despair. You watched as he cut straight through your laces, ripping off the boot you’d had for barely a month. Everything was numb. The rocks and splinters jutting into your palms went unnoticed, blood beginning to stain what pierced through the skin. Fear owned you now, it ran frigid through your veins, your body beginning to tremble as you stared at the charcoal mop of hair in front of you as gentle fingers tugged the edge of your sock. 

His face was the only thing you focused on. It was the only thing you weren’t terrified to see. Maybe it was the last thing you wanted to see. The fine lines set into sun-darkened skin, the streaks of silver through the slate gray thickly covering his jaw, the scar that adorned the right side of his nose, if you had to get bad news you’d rather read it on his features than hear the words. Joel was never one for talking anyway.

Another click brought you out of your head, this one beside your left ear, the cold metal of a muzzle pressing to your temple enough to have you losing what little air you’d been sucking in. 

Joel was lunging faster than you could comprehend that he was no longer kneeling at your side, his shoulder hitting whoever had been brave enough to approach hard enough to have his victim grunting. The surrounding chatter grew louder, but you could only focus on one.

“Don’t you point that gun at her, boy!” he sounded feral, unchained, “I’ll send you to your god damn maker, you hear me!”

Tommy was speaking now but terror kept your eyes locked on where Joel had been seconds ago. Had it been longer? The seconds seemed to be slogging by, dragged down by the weight of realization and regret. You hadn’t looked at your ankle, at Joel as whatever fight had broken out continued, you hadn’t found Indy in the crowd…you just counted the pattern of Joel’s boot print in the dirt, traced the shape of it imprinted in the ground.

“He stays over there!” you managed to decipher that familiar, unhinged tone, “Out of my sight!”

“Okay,” someone you knew had to be Tommy agreed, “Alright. Paulie, Paulie you go over there.”

“Tommy, she’s bit!” Busted. “I saw it with my own eyes!”

“Take one step!” Joel bellowed again, Tommy once again muttering something to try and dampen his fire, “Take that god damn step!”

“Joel!” Tommy’s voice was strained now as if he was restraining someone. The younger Miller was a force to be reckoned with, but his big brother would always have him beat.

“He’s gonna get us all killed!” Why was everyone wasting so much time? Your gun was close, you could put an end to it all right now.

Click. That one wasn’t pointed at you, it was too far away.

“Oh, I’m beggin’ you at this point. Gimme a god damn reason!” 

“Joel! God damnit! Go help her, for Christ’s sake!”

Red-faced and breathless, Joel dropped back at your side, his nostrils flaring as he picked up your leg again, finally looking at the point of contact, point of infection? The cause of death… 

“You doin’ alright?” Tommy’s gentle tone called as he crouched beside his brother, shrouding Joel from your view, “Anything hurt?”

If nothing hurt, nothing was wrong, right? You shook your head violently as you forced your attention to focus on the calloused fingers brushing over your skin, the attempts to regulate your haggard breathing all but useless. 

“She’s clean,” Joel sighed in relief, his brother’s skeptical gaze shifting to him, “Tommy, I swear.”

“Let me see.” 

Tommy’s touch felt wrong, your knee reflexively jerking your foot away at the foreign sensation. Joel’s hand shot out to your knee, and where you expected him to hold you firmly in place, the grip was gentle. His thumb reassuringly dragged up and down along the inner side of your knee as Tommy attempted again, softer this time. 

“Didn’t make it through the leather,” Joel’s voice announced with an uncharacteristic quiver, his free hand tossing your boot into Tommy’s lap.

“Get her home,” Tommy appeased, clapping a hand onto his brother’s broad shoulder, “We’ll be sure there.”

“Tommy…”

“It’s gonna be fine, Joel. Get her back, she’s white as a ghost.”

As Tommy began rounding up the others, it left you Joel alone beneath the dilapidated ruins. You were still in plain sight of the others doing one last meander around the area for any stragglers, each of Jackson’s residents accounted for and safe, but it felt like a space all your own. His hand hadn’t left your knee, his gaze still averted to your now-bare foot sitting in the dirt.

“You alright?” he asked timidly, finally looking at you with wide, soft eyes. You gave him a nod, your voice still lost in the whirlwind of panic still swirling. “You ain’t keepin’ that boot. C’mere.”

It was effortless the way he lifted you up into his arms, your fingers locking behind his neck as you pushed the memory of the last time you’d been cradled against his chest like this. How similar the circumstances had been, yet so very different. This felt worse. 

The horses were half a mile away, his body stiff yet warm as he carried you through the woods. The sun was midway between the horizon and its highest point, the birds still chirping as they were before your life had once again flashed behind your eyes. His familiar scent invaded your senses, you’d grown so accustomed to it at the end of your journey that you’d failed to recognize how synonymous with comfort and safety the blend of gunpowder, leather, and earth had become. 

Every steady thud of his heart against your ribs sent you further in a trance that ensnared you in an endless loop of terror. The snarls. The gunshots. The grip on your ankle as you twisted. The moment your heart stopped as you watched those rotting teeth disappear into what you’d assumed was your own flesh. You still weren’t sure if you’d avoided it. Maybe this was just the final walk to a peaceful resting place. No one else had to suffer through watching your final breath. 

“You can ride with me,” he offered as the horses came into view, the offer so tempting you almost accepted.

“No. I’m okay.”

A retort sat on the edge of his tongue as you swiped the evidence of your despair free from your face, and when he gave you a curt nod it fell into your stomach like a rock. The dejected look on his face, the resignation, the memory of seeing this same look just last night…

“I’ll help you up.” It was barely above a whisper, but it didn’t need to be. 

The way your ankle throbbed had reality setting in, Joel’s wayward glances in your direction as you tapped your Buckskin horse’s side with your shoed heel was all the evidence you needed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, not bothering to look over at him, missing the confusion etched on his face. 

“What the hell do you mean where are we goin?” he snapped, completely befuddled, “Home. You’re bleeding from your damn head.”

You hadn’t noticed. 

“Did you wanna stop for a picnic?” In any other circumstance, you’d have laughed at his dry sarcasm, but now it just made your chest ache. 

“Just get it over with.”

An abrupt tug at the reins had you stopping mid-trail, Joel circling around to face you on the Arabian he rode regularly. As emotionally closed off as he was, Joel had always been able to read your expressions and mood with ease, something that always took you aback after years of masking successfully. There was no hiding from him. You hated it, or maybe you just hated this forced vulnerability he brought out. 

“I ain’t lying to you,” he assured, sincerity threaded in through his voice, his posture, his expression, “Nothin’ happened beside you being stupid enough to save some jackass who wasn’t payin’ attention.”

“Figured I owed you.”

“You don’t owe me shit.”

You owed him an apology, you knew that much.

“I’m sorry about what I said,” you began, throat dry and cheeks burning, “last night.” That would have to be enough. 

“S’fine. You weren’t wrong,” he confessed, “But it ain’t why I brought you here. I brought you here cause…”

“Because you feel somethin’. That’s why.”

“Cause you ain’t half bad to have around,” he finished, wondering if you could see the blush he’d felt erupt over his face, “Now move. Stop fussin’ and get home.”

Maria’s face fell as the gates opened to reveal only you and Joel returning, Joel quickly hopping down to reassure her that all was well, his hands softly gripping her upper arms as she nodded, her eyes shooting over to you still sitting atop your horse as you awaited Joel’s return. From a distance, you couldn’t tell if it was horror or concern that was widening her eyes.

“Maria!” Joel bellowed as she took off in your direction, your body freezing as she grabbed your ankle and wrenched it out from the stirrup.

“Let me see it,” she snarled, Joel’s hand grabbing her wrist as he stared menacingly, his nostrils flaring.

“It’s fine,” you murmured, turning your leg enough to give her a glance. She’d tell you the truth.

“I want her scanned.”

“Fine,” Joel conceded, “Tommy said–”

“Now. I want her scanned now.”

“Just get it over with,” you sighed again as you dismounted, Joel's insistence on delaying the final word sending unease churning in your stomach. If all was well, what had him so afraid?

One of Jackson’s most promising new patrolmen, Jesse, jogged up, that cursed device that had ruled over civilization for too long now set in his hand. You gave him your back, tucking your chin to your chest as the cool metal prongs pressed to either side of your spine. Joel’s arms were crossed on his chest but you didn’t dare chance your view passing higher than his torso, the lump in your throat burning as you awaited that dreaded beep.

“Get her to the med bay,” Maria announced before you heard the dirt crunching beneath her boots, Joel’s hands immediately keeping you upright as you damn near collapsed in relief.

“You treat everyone like this?!” he yelled after her, “You should work on your hospitality, Maria. This ain’t the Miller way.”

“Don’t you tell me how to act,” her words were like venom, their poison seeping in despite their aim not being directed at you, “I have an entire settlement to keep safe, my life doesn’t revolve around one fucking person. I don’t have the luxury, unlike some. So get her to the fucking med bay.”

The gates were opening again as Joel gestured for you to hop up onto his back, the fact you only had one shoe still one he hadn’t forgotten. Your arms wrapped around his neck, you were clinging to him for dear life as he slowly walked you from the gates to the medical bay. His hair smelled slightly of soap still, the aroma mixing with that always-familiar scent of him as you waited for his request to ease your grip, you knew it was too tight, your knuckles were white where they gripped onto your own forearms. But he never complained. 

Antiseptic quickly washed away the comfort of him, your feet hitting the ground beside a bed he gestured you to lay on with a tick of his chin. Hushed voices were indiscernible, your shaking fingers finally pulling up the hem of your jeans and looking at where you swore a bloody bite mark would be. Though swollen, no skin was broken, your chest heaving as you finally let the anxiety you’d been keeping trapped with haggard breaths. 

It had taken until now to realize just how bloody you were. Your palms were scraped, your right having a gash that looked like it might require a stitch, and you could feel the dried blood caked on the side of your head. The pain you’d felt as you’d hit the ground returned, a choked moan of agony finally falling free as you twisted at the waist. Joel and a woman you’d never met before rounded the privacy curtain they’d been hidden behind, the doctor carrying two bowls and a rag that she set on a small table near the foot of the bed.

“I got it,” Joel insisted, a nod dismissing the stranger from the space as he sat at the foot of the bed, directing his attention to you, “You look like shit.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t all be you,” you retorted with a breath of laughter through your nose.

“You sayin’ I look decent? You hit your head harder’n I thought. Close your eyes.”

He began with your face, your nostrils burning from the alcohol-soaked rag. Slow swipes cleared the blood and dirt covering your face, his thumb and pointer finger maneuvering you at the chin. He worked meticulously, the loss of your vision making every sensation feel heightened. His fingers were rough, calloused from years of brutality and labor, but so warm and gentle. 

“Why didn’t you have her do this?” you mumbled, half entranced.

“I know you don’t like people touchin’ you,” was his easy response.

That was a facet of your psyche you had no idea he’d deciphered. Your words from last night crashed against your already shattered resolve, the accusations you’d hurled sinking in like thorns. With every subtle turn of your head, they dug in deeper, the wincing twisting your features not a result of the alcohol stinging at open wounds, but reality. 

When his thumb swiped at the tear rolling from the corner of your eye, your teeth sunk into your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. He stayed silent, continuing his task, but you could feel his gaze burning through you as he tried to get a read. You tried to stop the quivering of your lower lip, this could be blamed as a result of physical pain if you could control it enough, but the soothing pinch to your chin as you felt the trail of a second loll down your cheek and wrap beneath your jaw, you knew the only escape was avoidance.

“Gimme your hand,” he instructed, “this’ll hurt.”

Debris fell free of the large gash in your palm, the stream of liquid fire cleaning it quickly and efficiently as you whimpered, your fingers twisting into the rough blanket you sat on as he poured over it again. You heard him call for the doctor, noting you needed a stitch and he’d “prefer the professional do that.” His fretting then led him to your ankle, a bandage being wrapped tightly around the swelling before a pillow was used to elevate it and a bag of ice laid over the top.

“She’s gonna stitch you up,” he told you, the loss of his touch leaving you feeling lost, “And I’m getting you somethin’ to eat. And you’re gonna eat it. I will not leave until you do, understood?”

“Yes,” you agreed, the terms were fair.

“Any requests?”

After a shake of your head, he left, his voice heard speaking with someone right outside the door. Maria and Tommy entered moments later, new clothes and boots being carried between the two of them, along with the ruined remnants of your bow.

“I talked to a couple people,” Tommy began, “We’ll have no problem fixin’ this right up. But, I wanted to offer a new one first if that interests you.”

“No,” you quickly replied, “Thank you.”

“A new string it is, then.”

As thread tugged through the nerve-packed skin of your palm, Maria sat where Joel had just been, her hands wringing nervously in her lap.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, “For how I acted–”

“It’s fine,” you cut her off, the exchange at the gate already long forgotten, “I get it.”

“Take a week to rest. We’ll see how you’re doing then, get you back out.”

“Joel’ll be back in a minute,” Tommy assured as Maria stood to leave, “And we’re fixin’ that roof of yours tomorrow, heard it leaks.”

Survival was a basic instinct, when shoved into a life or death situation you always fought to make it out in one piece, exiting with a nonchalance that had it gone the other way you’d have nothing to lose. But as terror overtook you, it forced the consideration into your mind that maybe that wasn’t the case anymore. 

The silence that usually felt like a security blanket had turned desolate. Maria and Tommy had gone, even the doctor had gone to another room, the empty space seemingly expanding into a bottomless abyss as it swallowed you whole. The heavy weight of the grim reaper’s scythe still rested on your shoulder, and for the first time in 20 years you realized just how much that scared you.

“I don’t wanna die…” you whispered like a mantra, your chest burning, “Don’t leave me here…”

“Hey! Snap out of it!”

“Ellie?”

Green eyes set above a freckle-dusted nose snapped into view, the feeling of two hands tightly gripping your upper arms pulling you back from the shadows. 

“Ellie?” you repeated again, shame replacing fear, “I’m sorry.”

“Joel said he didn’t want you to be alone. I can see why,” she replied with a smirk as she plopped down beside you on the bed, “Here, I got new music.”

It was a song you’d heard before, but you couldn’t focus on it. Ellie was nestled against your side, her fingers quickly moving across the paper as she sketched the horse she’d been bonding with over the last few weeks. She’d named her Shimmer. You focused on the lines, watching how she took a blank page and scribbled scratches and turned it into something with shape and life. 

“Alright ladies,” a familiar timbre called from the opening door, “Food. Extra pickle for Ellie.”

“Ha ha,” she scoffed as she snatched the bag from his hands, “You’re hilarious.”

“That’s what they say. Now you, on the other hand,” he shifted, “I have no idea what you like. And somethin’ tells me you don’t either. So give that a go and we’ll take it from there.”

A month had passed and hot food was still something you had yet to venture into. Every invitation from Indy for dinner last week had been refused, the Tipsy Bison was nothing more than a place to get some decent scotch, and the pantry items you hoarded were picked at sparingly at home. When you opened the bag to find a simple sandwich, grilled and warm, it set off the inescapable alarms.

“You agreed,” Joel reminded in a stern tone, “You don’t like it, we’ll find you somethin’ else.”

“I can take care of myself.” You hated the way those words sounded as they left your lips. 

“Just eat the damn sandwich. We can argue later.”

“It’s a panini,” Ellie chimed in lightheartedly, the storm clouds that threatened to roll in receding.

“That is a grilled ham and cheese,” Joel corrected, his face twisting in that dramatic exasperation you’d come to revere. 

“No. It’s a panini. C’mon dude, they existed before the outbreak. You have to know what a panini is.”

“I’m wonderin’ how you know what a panini is, they serve those at FEDRA military school?”

Their banter provided the perfect ambience as your fingers ran over the crisp, toasted bread. The smell had your mouth watering, the way your stomach was gurgling probably audible even over Joel’s explanation of what constituted a panini and what was simply just a grilled sandwich. You could tell Joel was trying not to focus too intently as you took your first bite, the flavor exploding on your tongue after years of canned goods and stale leftovers. 

“It’s good, right?” Ellie asked, probably because Joel gave her that eyebrow raise he didn’t think you’d catch.

“Yeah,” you answered, “And I think paninis are technically made on rolls…”

“See! I told you!” Joel exclaimed excitedly, having finally won an intellectual battle with the kid, “Not a panini. That is plain ol’ sliced bread.”

“Fine,” Ellie surrendered, “But I want to try a fucking panini one day.”

“It is the same damn thing!”

“So you admit it’s the same thing!”

After Joel was content with how much you’d eaten and compared you to a kid who needed to be bribed to finish their plate at dinner, he and Ellie walked you home. Your ankle was sore but not useless, Ellie insisting on being your crutch as Joel lingered nearby. Their conversation had moved to what movie they were going to watch next, with Ellie making him promise it would be this week while she suffered on farm rotation, her least favorite. 

Their house was closer, and Joel sent Ellie in as you passed, opting to take you the last few blocks himself. 

“You good?” he asked when you turned off of Rancher street, “Be honest now.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, and he knew it, his angry scoff enough evidence to go on.

“Whatever you say. I talked to your partner, what’s her name? Indy?”

“Yeah.”

“Offered her house while we work on the ceiling. Told me she can teach you a thing or two about cookin’.”

Indy had been insisting, cooking was her greatest joy and the fact you were clueless in a kitchen was something she’d taken very personally. You knew it was futile to argue, especially after the events of today.

“Thanks for not letting me die out there,” you laughed as your house came into view, trying to hide the sincerity.

“Don’t go makin’ it a habit now,” he teased, “You’re gettin’ me in trouble.”

“Well, you held a gun to Paulie’s head, so…”

“And I’d do it again.”

“He can be annoying.”

A gruff chuckle rewarded your deflection, but you knew those words' intent and the weight they carried.

“Go get some sleep,” he bade softly, “Tommy and I’ll be down in the morning. Shoot a flare or somethin’ if ya need me.”

“Funny.”

“I try.”

When your hand gripped the cool metal of your doorknob, you noted that his footsteps hadn’t started, a peek over your shoulder confirming he was waiting until you were safely inside before heading home. Your last conversation still haunted you, the pitiful apology you’d given him earlier too inadequate.

“Joel!” you called out, whipping to face him despite knowing he hadn’t moved an inch.

“I already said it’s fine.” 

You hadn’t said a word, and yet he knew. Was it that plainly written on your face? Or was he simply just that good at reading it? With a simple nod, you silently bid him goodbye, the anticipation of the nightmares you knew you’d face tonight already trembling in your fingers. 

Chapter 5

[wholecakes]

Zosan is something so special but even more special when it’s t4t. Zoro who has been sure of his identity ever since he was a little kid and sanji whose egg has been forcefully cracked with a sledgehammer in her early 20’s. Sanji who struggles deciding on how to present during fem days vs Zoro who has been wearing the same clothes for the last week.

Sanji who has been disconnected from her femininity nearly all of her life, shoving herself into awkwardly fitting suits since she was a little kid, her desire to be the perfect gentleman overshadowing her true identity.

Zoro who decided he’s a man and stuck with it ever since he was little. Zoro who knows himself better than anyone and is sure of it.

it’s such a harsh contrast. Sanji almost feels bested by the swordsman in this gender debacle. how has that grass brained idiot been so sure of himself for years while she needs to smoke 3 cigarettes at the mere thought of wearing a dress?

Sanji wishes deep down to ask him: “how did you know?” “when did you know?” “was it easy?” (She knows that one is rhetorical). And yet sanji cant ask him. At least not while she’s dicing an assortment of fruit for her lovely Nami and Robin and working on her 8th cigarette of the hour.

It’s not like Zoro’s the only other person on the ship who is similar to her. Robin’s been lovely, actually. Robin has always been incredibly knowing and insightful, as always. She’s been amazing, Sanji can’t appreciate her enough. She always knew the right words to pick. Sanji sleeping in the girls quarters allowed her to become closer to Robin through simple conversation and sweet smiles alone. Sanji can’t thank her enough for each chat they’d have over a cup of coffee. Robin had always been safe for Sanji to chat to. An observant woman who could read a person just like she did her books.

So just why did Sanji want to ask the moss-brained idiot about his experience with his identity? It’s not like he’s got some long story to tell, Zoro’s not the kind of guy to drone on and tell some deep story about his self-realization over a candlelit dinner. Zoro is Zoro, simple and straight to the point. A sharp edge that hardly falters. He’s simple-minded. A simple-minded moron. A simple-minded moron that picks fights with Sanji every chance he gets. A simple-minded moron that doesn’t have anything good to say. Sanji’s not delusional.

It’s only when in the kitchen with that same moron, Sanji realizes that she might be delusional.

It goes as any other night. Crew asleep, Sanji staying up a little later than usual to prep for tomorrow’s meals, careful hands massaging marinade into raw meat, and Zoro waltzes into the kitchen like he fucking owns it. Insomnia can make a man so cocky. Swords clanking against each other and the thump of his boots against the wood announcing his presence.

“Out. You’re not getting any booze, shitty moss.” Sanji says, simple and straightforward.

Zoro scoffs. He takes a seat at the dining table. Sanji can feel the swordsman’s eyes on her. “I didn’t come here just for booze, shit cook.”

“What else could you have come for? I don’t see you looking to handle tomorrow’s lunch.” Sanji replies, rinsing her hands clean and storing the marinated cuts in the fridge. The spices tickle her senses.

Zoro doesn’t reply. Great. Sanji would have to play a guessing game with an overgrown moss in the odd hours of the night. Unable to kick or scream at him because she can’t risk waking up her sweet Nami or Robin. She dries her hands and turns to look at him. Did he come here with the sole purpose to piss her off? She wouldn’t put that behind him. The air is oddly thick. She takes a drag of the cigarette she’s been working on before making her way to the counter and stubbing it out on the ashtray there.

“Whatever you want, spit it out or go.” Sanji tells him, not having time for any bullshit. “Or I’m going to sleep.”

Zoro’s permanent scowl turns into something confused. Tilting his head inquisitively, almost like a dog. Sanji takes the thought of Zoro being similar to a confused puppy and crushes it with the sole of her shoes. She can’t have that now. Stupid moss. Stupid puppy-dog moss. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I wanted to say,” Zoro begins. Seeming to actually think about his choice of words. It’s something Sanji’s never seen before. Shocked that his brain works for anything other than swords and alcohol. “Congrats. On. Your. Finding yourself.” Zoro finishes.

The eye contact made after that is, for lack of a better term, terrifying to Sanji.

"Thanks." Is all Sanji can manage before retreating to the women's quarters for the night before Zoro can say anything else.

It makes her feel warm.

[crystalsnow95z]

hobi with a bad cough and he’s wheezing a lot

It ended up in a really dark direction because of my headspace right now, sorry if that's not what you were hoping for. I have an awful habit of turning one suggestion into something completely different

This one got ridiculously long before i noticed how long it got, and I already cut out two whole scenes. Sorry, it's gonna break into a two parter(maybe 3?)and didn't meet your request yet..

"AHHH!" The sound of Hosoek's scream echos throughout the woods as he throws himself at the closest person, clinging to Namjoon's arm, burying his face in his shoulder.

"What? What's wrong?" Namjoon holds his frightened companion close, looking around to see what spooked him.

"Why? Why did you happen?" Yoongi jumps at the sound of Hoseok, looking at him with a worried expression.

"I saw a snake...! It ran across my foot!" Hoseok whines. "Over there!" He points to a pile of leaves that rustled with movement.

Jungkook goes to investigate, finding the culprit that terrified Hoseok, then looking in the book that staff gave them. "It's not venomous.." he confirms after looking through the pages."It says venomous snakes have a triangle shaped head. This one is totally rounded." He bends down to get a closer look."It's okay it won't hurt you."

"Well that's good for it! I still don't want it near me!" Hoseok complains. "Don't.. touch it! Just because it isn't venomous doesn't mean it won't hurt if it bites!"

Jungkook pulls away from it. "It's scared of me.." He notes with a small pout as it starts slithering away, disappearing into the grass, filming it as it moves, following it until he feels someone grab him.

"Leave it alone, Jungkook-ah. We need to keep going.." Yoongi pulls Jungkook up by his hood gently."It's okay, Hoba. Jungkookie scared it away. It's gone. We just need to find flat ground to set up our tent. Once we set up a fire, it'll keep the snakes away." Yoongi gently rubs Hoseok's arm to comfort him.

"Okay.." Hoseok keeps hold of Namjoon while they keep moving, blushing when he sees the fellow 94er smiling at him, both dimples showing. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're cute." Namjoon says simply, as if it was common sense.

"You're cute." Hoseok throws the compliment back at him, poking his dimple. It was Namjoon's turn to blush, covering his face with his palm making Hoseok giggle, filming Namjoon.

"Stop it!" Namjoon pushes the camera away. "Film yourself not me!" He whines.

Jungkook giggles, too, watching the two rappers teasing one another. He was relieved to see Hoseok calm down from his mini heart attack from their scaley neighbor.

"The lake should've been this way.." Jin murmurs, staring at the map staff gave them. "We passed the giant oak. It should've been a mile north.."

Jungkook sniffs the air, trying to find any sign of the lake. He catches a whiff of wet dead leaves despite the path they are walking on being bone dry. "I think we're going in the right direction. I smell water."

Jin trusts the mankae even though when he breathed in the forest air, he couldn't smell anything but the trees, the dusty path, and wildflowers.

"Let's keep going straight then. Maybe a mile is longer than I thought.."

"Can we swim in the lake?" Taehyung asks eyes sparkling with excitement at the thought of splashing around with his brothers."Are our self cams waterproof?"

"They are. But it's too cold today. It'll warm up tomorrow. We can swim then. Today, we can fish since we got our license. I'll show you a trick I picked up!" Jin smiles, unable to hide his own excitement. He's been looking forward to fishing with the other members since staff told them they would fish for their dinner.

"But not everyone eats fish.. what are we going to do?" Taehyung looks towards Namjoon and Jimin with worry flashing in his eyes.

"It's fine, Taetae. I can eat fish for a couple of days." Jimin comforts Taehyung, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just like you end up suffering sometimes because something we all eat is too spicy for you."

"I can deal with it, too." Namjoon tries to hide his disappointment, but his shoulders still slump at the thought, his body language giving him away.

"It's okay. We have rice and ramen, too. You guys can have my serving.." Taehyung offers Jimin and Namjoon with a warm smile. "I can't eat too much anyway. I'm preparing for filming.."

"But what if we don't catch anything?" Namjoon waves off his offer. He was well aware of Taehyung’s recent diet change because of the recent role he obtained, seeing his fitted jacket being loose on him."You need to eat your portions. I said I'm fine, Tae. Don't worry about me."

"I'm okay too. I won't take your ramen, Taehyungie." Jimin says, wrapping an arm around Taehyung fondly pressing his cheek into his soulmates. "I might take Jaykay's though."

"Sure hyung. As long as we catch some fish I'll share." Jungkook teases.

"And I can share mine too." Yoongi says, trying to sound nonchalant. "We'll be fine."

"Don't worry,we'll all share, and no one will go hungry. We've always managed before." Jin says in a soothing tone, ruffling Taehyung's hair.

"Look! I see the lake up ahead!" Jimin points to the water sparkling ahead from the sunlight reflecting off it.

"I was right! It was just farther ahead!" Jungkook smiles brightly, sprinting towards the water with child-like excitement.

"Jungkook-ah, don't run ahead! Stay with the group!" Jin runs after him."What's the hurry it's not going anywhere!" He scolds him lightly.

"We need to start fishing as soon as possible! We'll lose sunlight and we still need to find a place to pitch a tent!" Jungkook yells back to him slowing down with a pout.

"We'll break into two groups after we find a place to set up camp. We can manage to fish when it's dark, but setting up tents would be hard." Yoongi explains to the mankae calmly.

"Okay, we should probably split into groups while fishing too." Jungkook suggested, seeing the small dock through the trees.

"We'll figure that out later. Let's just find a place for our tent for now."

"This looks like a good spot." Jin walks around the small clearing, checking to see if the ground was flat enough to place their tent.

"Yeah, it's perfect." Hoseok takes off his backpack, plopping down in the grass using the lumpy bag as a pillow. "Can we rest for a bit first?" As soon as he stopped moving, he became aware of how exhausted he felt, stifling a yawn.

"I'm tired too." Taehyung places his bag next to Hoseoks, laying down next to him. Jungkook joins in, laying down and stretching in the grass next to him. "So is Jungukkie.."

"Alright, just for a little bit. Then we have to start setting up the tent and go fishing." Namjoon takes a seat next to Hoseok, hearing the soft panting of his fellow 94liner. "Are you okay, Hoba? You've been quieter today.."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm just tired. I didn't get much sleep last night, so this hike took a lot out of me. I'll be fine after resting." Hoseok explains with another yawn"Thanks for your concern, though." He smiles, leaning on Namjoon’s shoulder.

"You don't need to thank me for that." Namjoon pushes the hair that fell into Hoseok's face behind his ear.

As soon as Hoseok got comfortable, feeling safe and warm against Namjoon's side, the exhaustion hit him even harder, his eyes already drooping closed.

"Don't fall asleep, Hope. Wait until we get the tent up. It's too cold to sleep outside. Same for you two." Namjoon scolds them lightly.

Taehyung and Jungkook were dosing off cuddled up to one another, not responding to Namjoon's voice.

"Jungkook-ah.."Jimin shook Jungkook's shoulder, but the mankae only complains with a soft grumble. "This is why I told you two not to play games all night." He smiles fondly,poking Jungkook's cheek.

"Just let them sleep for a bit. They must be exhausted to fall asleep that quickly." Yoongi says, setting up his self cam on the floor. "It's weird without having staff with us.."

"Yeah, but it's also nice.. we can turn the cameras on and off whenever we want." Namjoon turns off Hoseok's camera. "The editors are going to have fun with all this footage.."

Yoongi and Jin started on the tent,pulling out all the pieces while the others rested. Despite also being tired, the oldest members wanted to get the shelter up.

Jimin jumps up to help them. "You aren't resting, too? Hyung, you didn't even sleep on the plane."

"I'll rest once the tent is up." Yoongi answers him, him and Jin stretching out the base of the tent. "I'm fine."

"I'll help too. I'm not that tired." Jimin offers, picking up one of the corners to stretch out, the three members smoothing out the bottom.

It doesn't take long for the three members to finish the tent, Yoongi hammering the last stake into place, checking to see if the rope was tightly secure. "Finished." He wipes sweat off his brow, admiring the purple tent, their logo patterned in the fabric.

"I'll go wake up the others." Jimin offers, going up to the closest member, gently rubbing Jungkook's chest to gently pull him out of his dream. "Jungkook-ah..Jungkook-ah wake up.. we finished building the tent. If you're going to sleep more, set up your cot. The ground is too cold." Jimin coaxed the youngest member awake.

Jungkook just groans,turning over to cuddle into Taehyung’s side, head resting on the baritone vocalists' chest.

"Jungkook-ah, get up.. we still need to go fishing.." Jimin pulls him to make him sit up, holding him in place so he doesn't slump back down.

Jungkook's eyes were barely open to look at Jimin, looking through his lashes, blinking slowly. "Mm.."

Taehyung sluggishly sits up on his own, rubbing at his eyes. "What's going on?" His voice comes out as a soft husky whisper, blinking as his eyes adjust to the sunlight that shined through the tree branches.

"We finished building the tent." Jimin informs Taehyung, fluffing out the back of his hair that got flattened from his sleep, trying to fully wake his friend."We have to gather some firewood and try to catch something to eat."

"Ah, right.. Jungkookie, we need your help fishing. Wake-up." Taehyung helps Jimin pull the youngest to his feet. "Come on, Kook-ah, wake up." He lightly squeezes his cheeks between his fingers.

"'m up.. I'm up.." Jungkook yawns the words the first time, speaking clearer the next, grabbing Taehyung's hand to remove it.

The sound of the mankae line woke up J-hope, stretching out as he sat up. "I didn't mean to fall asleep.. I'm sorry, Hyung. I should've helped.".His voice comes out as a raspy whisper,clearing his throat to try to speak louder. "How long as I out?"

"No, it's okay, you weren't asleep for that long. If we needed help, we would've asked, but three was enough to get it. It wasn't hard to put together." Jin reassures J-hope, stroking his hair."There's still plenty to do. You can help once you're fully awake."

"Here, Hoba, drink some water. Your voice sounds deeper than Taes.." Namjoon unhooked his thermos full of water from his bag, offering it to J-hope, who accepts it gratefully.

He woke up with a sore throat, and the cool water soothed the discomfort. "Thanks Joon-ah. I shouldn't have let myself get scared by every snake and spider on the way here."

"Maybe this trip will help desensitize you to bugs and spiders." Namjoon teases him, helping him to his feet.

"I don't think he will. He still needs me to kill the bugs for him when he sees them in the room." Jimin joins in the playful harassment of his roommate.

Hoseok narrows his eyes at them in mock anger but couldn't stop himself from breaking into a smile. "I can give it a try."

"Let's go fish, we can gather firewood on the way back." Jimin suggests, blushing at the sound of his stomach gurgling.

"Okay, Jimin-sii." Jungkook hugs Jimin. "I'll catch you a fish and make it so tastey you’ll actually enjoy it!"

"Woah, I got a bite! Hyung help me..!" Jimin panicks when he feels the line pulling, trying to pull it in, but he got his line tangled on the reel.

"You must've given it too much slack.."Jin switches rods with Jimin, struggling to pull in the catch by pulling the line by hand.

"It must be huge!" Taehyung holds onto Jin's waist, afraid he'll fall in the water.

The seven members broke up into three groups to try to increase their chances of success, one group fishing at the docks,another a small row boat, and the last on a cliff overseeing the lake.

"I think I heard Jimin's voice.. Maybe he caught something." Yoongi says with a hopeful expression, holding his growling stomach.

Their duo was left to fish on the cliff and only caught one small fish between the two of them. When Hoseok doesn't answer him, he quickly looks over, noticing his eyes were closed."Hoba? Are you alright?"

Hoseok looks up at Yoongi after hearing his nickname coming from his lips, sleepily blinking at him. "Hm? What is it hyung?"

"You fell asleep. Are you okay?" Yoongi questions him, his brow furrowing with worry. "Woah, careful, you got a bite!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~tw drowning~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Huh? Ack!" Hoseok felt his rod being pulled violently out of nowhere, his body jerking forward. When tried to grab the edge of the cliff to steady himself, but all he got was a handful of grass, doing nothing to support him. He was already falling into the water below. "Hyung!"

"Hoseok-Ah!" Yoongi tried to grab his waist to anchor him down, but he loses his balance falling backwards. "Sh*t!" He couldn't move fast enough, only able to grip the back of his jacket catching him mid-air trying to pull him up, but he lacked the strength wincing with a moan when he feels the searing pain in his shoulder.

Hoseok let out a scream when he feels himself dangling,trying his best to sit still, refusing to open his eyes to see the water below."Please don't drop me..!" He voice comes out high pitched with fear.

Yoongi tried to pull him up, only getting him a few inches closer before the cliff started to crumble from their combined weight. I'm running out of time..the cliff can't take it..

Yoongi felt the fabric slipping from his fingers. "Hoba..I can't..Hoba hold your breath!I’ll get you" His scream echoed as Hoseok hits the water, quickly ripping off his boots and jacket, diving in after him. He'll drown.. he struggled swimming wearing a life jacket..

Hoseok squealed when he hit the water, the shock of cold numbing his body as he sank down, making it hard to move his limbs. He holds his breath as soon as he hits the water, sinking under. Sh*t it's cold..my boots are weighing me down..

Hoseok kicked his feet wildly,clawing upward towards the light, but he wasn't getting any closer to the surface. His energy ebbed quickly, feeling his heart race as he feels himself sinking again.Hyung will come.. Hyung will come..

He kept repeating to himself to keep his nerves under control. Yoongi dives down quickly, opening his eyes to look for his companion. He found it hard to move, his limbs already feeling numb.

Yoongi grabs onto him, wrapping his arm around Hobi's waist. He struggled with one arm swimming towards the surface. Hoba, please, you have to help me.. I can't do this alone..

As if Hoseok heard his thoughts, he started kicking his feet, reaching up to the surface with desperate strokes, but his head was feeling light-headed, unable to hold his breath for much longer.

No, Hoseok-ah..I have to hurry.. I took too long to get to him...

Yoongi felt panic setting in when he saw the bubbles pouring out of Hoseok's mouth, adrenaline kicking in, giving him the strength he needed to reach the surface, gasping for air."[Help..]" He called in English, but his voice came out hoarsely fearful no one could hear him. He tried to call louder. "[Help!]"

He kept a tight grip on his companion as he struggled to reach land, exhaustion weighing heavily on his body. "Hoba..hang in there.. I'll get us to safety.." Yoongi pants,trying to adjust Hoseok onto his back to keep his head above water, his own face falling underneath the surface, his mouth filling with water as he pants for air.

"[Hang on I'm coming!]" A native calls to them, but Yoongi couldn't make out what they said. It took all his focus to stay above water. Even hearing other voices gave him the hope he needed to keep struggling to the rocky walls where he heard the voices.

Yoongi sees the two men reach out his hand to him so he pushed Hoseok towards them. "[Help.. help please?]" He pleaded, sighing with relief when the two men grabbed the younger rapper by the armpits, lifting him out and carrying him to the flat surface. The older man instantly starts CPR, the other offering his hand to Yoongi.

Yoongi grabs it with both hands, the man effortlessly lifting him out of the water, his feet slipping on the rocks. "[Woah, woah i got you.]" The man gets a grip on Yoongi's arms, getting him out."What are you two doing jumping off that cliff when it's only 56 out? Are you two crazy?]"

Yoongi didn't answer,scrambling to Hoseok's eerily still body, the man pushing on his abdomen. "[My brother.. be okay?]"

"[My brothers doing the best he can.. you need to strip down before you catch your death.]" The younger man who pulled Yoongi up starts stripping the wet shirt that clung to his body, stripping off his jacket to put on Yoongi.

"Hoba..Hobi please wake up..please be okay.." Yoongi's eyes filled with tears as his rescuer tries towel drying his hair, fear catching in his throat as he watches helplessly as the man forced air into Hoseok's lungs.

Yoongi takes Hoseok's hand in his, squeezing it. I should've kept a closer eye on him. I should've known it wasn't natural for him to be so quiet even while fishing. I should've sent him to camp to rest.. then this wouldn't have happened..

"[Woah, kid you're hyperventilating. You gotta calm down..fainting won't help your brother.]" The man pats Yoongi's back, trying to soothe him,but Yoongi's focus was only on Hoseok, not caring about his own well being.

"Hoba breathe..please.." Yoongi's voice comes out as a desperate plea, tears filling the corners of his eyes.

Hoseok started coughing up mouthfuls of water, the man turning him to his side to prevent him from choking.

"Oh thank God. He's breathing.." The man says breathlessly, shoulders slumping.

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

"Yo..yoon..Yoongi..where.." Hoseok bolts up, coughing up more mouthfuls of water, frantically looking around for him.

"I'm here Hoba.." Yoongi says in a choked whisper, hugging him to his chest."Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I swallowed.. so much lake..water..and I'm ex..exhausted.." Hoseok coughs out the words. "But I'm f..fine Hyung.."

"I thought I wouldn't.. be able to pull you out.. I was so scared..if they didn't hear me..." Yoongi whispers, sniffling, heart tightening at the thought. "I'm so..sorry I dropped you.."

"Its..it's okay..you.." Hoseok tried to talk, but ended up coughing up more water, his body shaking with the force of it.

"Don't talk Hoba.. here.. you're freezing.." Yoongi hugs him from behind, trying to warm him by wrapping him in the large jacket he was wearing.

"[Are you two here alone?]" The older man asks. "[Do you have family or friends?]

"[No. No.. the uhm..]" Yoongi tried to think of the words, but he was too tired to think. "[Five..five..by water..]"

"[You two go with my brother to our campsite, I'll go find your friends. What's your names? I'm Derek and this is my brother Darryl.]"

"[My name... my name is Yoongi..this is Hoseok..]" Yoongi answers, his heart sinking when he feels J-hope coughing again.

"[Not to be rude but, uhm..are they Asian too?]" Derek asks, cheeks tinting pink.

Yoongi nods,searching for his phone to show a photo, remembering he left his phone on the cliff in his jacket pocket. "[See..see phone?]"

"[Huh? Uh sure..]" Derek digs out his phone.

Yoongi types in BTS, pulling up a group photo of the group. "[Here..with them..]"

"[What?! I just yanked two BTS members from the lake?!]"

"[Hey you two! You're BTS members right?]" Derek asks Jungkook and Namjoon, reading their expessions that he guessed correct. "[I'm not trying to be creepy or anything, I was just looking for you because my brother and I saved two of you from drowning..]"

"[What? Drowning? What did they look like?]" Namjoon replies with widened eyes. "[Did you get their names?]"

Jungkook looks at Namjoon with concern when he sees him jump up to his feet. "What? What did he say?"

"[Yoo..ngi? and don't remember the other one.. sorry..]" Derek blushes in embarrassment, scratching the back of his neck.

"[It's okay. Are they okay?]" Namjoon didn't know if he could trust them, cautiously asking to see what his response would be.

"The other one, the taller one with brown hair ain't doing so good. My brother had to carry him because he was too weak, and the blonde one was holding his shoulder as we walked. I think he popped it out of place or something..]"

Hobi only just dyed his hair brown two days ago and didn't take any photos of it, and those two were together. His shirts also soaked..

"[Please take me to them.]" Namjoon says quickly, believing the man, packing up their belongings, feeling Jungkook pulling on him."Yoongi and Hobi fell in the water, and he saved them.. he's offering to take us to them." He explains to the concerned mankae.

"What? Are they okay?"Jungkook asks looking at him with his big doe eyes sparking with fear.

"I don't know. Call the others, I need to talk to him." Namjoon turns to Derek. "[I'm sorry his English isn't good, I had to explain.]"

"[No, it's okay. I'm just grateful you know English so well. My brother and I were going to the lake to do some fishing when we heard someone calling for help, so we started running towards the water...]" Derek explains how him and his brother pulled the other two rapline members from the water and how Hoseok had lost consciousness for a bit while they briskly walked through the woods where Derek and his brother set up camp.

They run when they hear Hoseok coughing, using the sound to lead them the rest of the way.

"Yoongi-yah! Hobi-hyung!" Jungkook called when he saw the bright red tent.

"[Your friends are coming. That's great news. They can get you some dry clothes..]" Darryl gently shakes Yoongi, awake. "[Wake up bud.]"

"[Friends..?]" Yoongi picks up his head sleepily, cuddled underneath a blanket in front of a heater with J-hope coughing on his chest. He looks around, noticing the tent unzipping, Namjoon and Jungkook rushing to his side.

"Jungkook-ah..Namjoon-ah.." his eyes brightened to see his teammates. "You found me.."

"Are you okay?" Jungkook asks, watching Yoongi wince when he gently moves J-hope off his chest.

"I'm fine, my shoulder just hurts..Hoba though.. he must've swallowed too much water.. he won't stop coughing. We need to get him to a hospital..." Yoongi's voice is still thick with guilt.

"No..no hospital. I'm fine.." Hoseok sits up. "I'll be fine after a good night's rest. I don't want to ruin.." J-hope stops mid-sentence, a wheezing cough interrupting him.

"No, you're not okay." Namjoon looks directly into Hoseok's eyes, his lips tightly pressed together as he looks over his friend. "You're struggling to breathe and your eyes aren't even focusing on me.."

"I'm just-"

"Don't lie to me, Hoseok-ah. I don't want your excuses." Namjoon speaks in a cold tone, coming out harsher than he intended, feeling his stomach drop when Hoseok flinched. "Ah..I'm sorry.. I didn't mean it to come out like that. You just scared the Hell out of me.."

"I'm sorry Joon..you're right..i..I just don't want to ruin the trip.. Everyone was so exci...excited.." Hoseok looks down, unable to meet Namjoon's eyes. Not when they were widened with fear and glistened with unshed tears.

"I don't care about camping anymore." Jungkook sniffles, fighting back his own emotions."I care about you getting better."

"I'll be okay Jungkook-ah..I'm just waterlogged and a little cold.."

"Where are the others?" Yoongi tries to change the subject, not wanting to talk about it.

"I was supposed to call Jin back when I got here!" Jungkook starts pulling out his phone, leaving the tent. "[Thank you for helping..]" He quickly bows to the brothers sitting outside.

"Jungkook-ah how's Yoongi and Hobi?" Jin gets right to the point. "Where are you?"

"Yoongi-hyung.. looks like he's in pain, and Hobi-hyung sounds like he caught.. pneumonia already, he keeps coughing.." Jungkook says, trying to keep his voice steady by taking deep breaths in between. "There's a pair of brothers who took ..them to th-their tent to warm up. Derek-sii said they could..stay the night if needed, or they'd help us c-carry them to our campsite."

"I'll call staff to see when they can get us. Meet me at the docks in twenty minutes?"

(Part two is coming in a few days. I'm cutting this here. I added way too much fluff, but I like it 🥺)

Edit: it's finished!

[wenwenbittercake]

Chapter: 3 Escapism🍒

TW: SA, Kidnapping, starvation, the turkey blaster scene isn’t explicitly detailed but yea…😐

It’s been 5 days. 5 hell whole days with no food was given to you at the time. Your voice nearly dying from screams and crying for days. The only privilege you get is water. There is always a bottle of water whenever you woke up from sleeps. You still can’t comprehend how he left the water without you noticing. But water isn’t enough to keep you alive for days. You need something to eat, your body feel so weak you can’t even stay awake for long. You could die any minutes but no way you are going to be a surrogate.

Just as you thought you were going to die; you feel like you are being lifted. You are not sure of what’s going on around, but you can still feel the pair of arms, carrying you up a ladder. You peek your eyes open to see a faint idea of the house. The living room is a mess. The wallpaper stained and yellow. The wood floor creeks as he takes you. You don’t know what happened next but ice-cold water snaps you out of your daze. You are thrown into a bathtub fill with icy cold water. Your eyes adjust around your surroundings. You are in a dim bathroom with the only light illuminating from the small bathroom window. Norman stand there with a face as cold as the bath water.

“Why would you do that?” You scream at him with little energy you have.

“So, you rather die of starvation then give in?” He holds a tray with food in it.

The smell of smash potatoes has never been as delightful as now. You try to reach out for the food, but the splashing of water alerts him of your movements. He raises the tray higher making it out of your reach.

“The deal.” Straight to the point with this guy. No running away from the unavoidable.

“Fine…I accept.” Your voice is barely a whisper, but he heard it.

“Good.” He gives you the tray. You gobble all the food like a dog stranded for days in the tub.

“After you’re done, wash up and come out.” Norman then shut the door behind him after he left.

Now is your chance. You look at the small window. It’s small but with your size, it wouldn’t be much a struggle. After you ate, you tip toe out of the tub and stood on the toilet. Yes, there is no lock on this one, but there is a sensory, this will warn Norman but if you run far enough you will be able to get away. Besides, if the police come to check you could just scream to let them know right? With the plan brewing in your mind, you decided to act on them. In 1, 2, 3 bam.

You open the window, with all your power you ran and ran, your body weak as you tumble but you don’t stop, this is your only chance. The dreadful sound of alarm comes out as you were halfway out of the backyard. This doesn’t falter your movements; it just motivates you to run faster.

The sun light hit your face for the first time, just as you enjoy a taste of freedom, they were all destroyed by a pair of strong arms. Norman got you, even though he’s an old man, he was extremely strong for his age. He pulled you back to the house, but you trash and scream on top of your lungs. You could already guess your faith if you enter that house. Your screams died down when he hit you at the back of your head causing you to fall limp in his arms in defeat.

You woke up again from that irritating white light again. You are back in that basement you loathe to stay but this time it’s different. You are suspended in the air naked by you restrains. You feel cold and exposed. This exposer sends a panic in your head, struggling to get out of your restrains.

“I’m disappointed in you (Y/N), I thought you already agreed with the terms.” He sat on the chair facing you, holding something in his hands but you can’t see it properly.

“Fuck NO, never!” You scream, you are still scare but still not going to accept your faith as a surrogate. As Norman got near to you, you fully realize what he was holding a turkey baster fill with a yellowish liquid.

“No, no pleaseeee no.” You scream and cries, your body struggles on the restrains.

“Stop struggling!” He warns in a low threatening tone. You sob and pleads turns to deaf ears.

He lowers the harness of the restrains after he was done. He uncuffs you but your body feels so weak to fight back. He walks into the dark and comes back to you with a pair of cotton pants and top, probably Evelyn’s. He unlocks your restrains, dressing you up in Evelyn’s clothes gently and so comforting in the action, so different from what he did a few secs ago.

“You did good.”

He pats your head comfortingly, but his comfort is like a dagger piercing through your ego and soul. You move your head away from him weakly. He seems to get that you want to be alone and left you to your own sorrow. You hug your body, trying your best to comfort yourself as tears roll down your cheeks uncontrollably.

(I can notttyt bring myself to write the turkey baster scene. Like I was physically repulsed but yea thanks for the support, apologies for any grammar mistakes.) 🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨

Chapter 1⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

Chapter 2⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

[shade-pup-cub]

Febuwhump 2024, Day 3: Twilight, Warriors & Hyrule

Fandom: LOZ/Linked Universe

Summary: Twilight is shot in the leg with a barbed arrow too soon after his recovery from his Shadow injury. Warriors is forced to hold down the strongest Link in the group while walking Hyrule through an arrow removal. Hyrule has pulled out more arrows than he cares to remember, but he has never had to push one through. The Vet was going to kill Wars if Malon didn't do it first.

CW: Injury, slight blood, field dressing, mention of soldiers deaths

“Twilight, stop! Wars hold him!”

“Do you see who we are talking about? I’m trying!” Warriors snapped back at Hyrule as Twilight thrashed in pain as the arrow in his thigh was beginning to be tugged on. He had finally managed to make the Ordonian stop trying to push them away after an arrow met its mark.

Neither had ever heard Twilight scream in pain, causing them both to suddenly stop in their fight against the monster camp they came across after being split up through a portal. To see him fall to one knee, still trying to fight, was heroic in itself, but it was too soon to see him injured after just healing from the Shadow.

“I can’t pull it out.” Hyrule reported, as he held up an arrow from the same monster that had shot Twilight. “The arrow head is barbed. Pulling it back out the way it went in will do more damage that he can’t afford.”

Twilight moved slightly in Warriors hold, sweat beading on clammy skin. “P-push. You have to pu-ush it through.”

Hyrule paled. “You can’t be serious.”

Warriors swallowed thickly. “He’s right. As long as it isn’t in the bone, the only option is to push it through to the other side.”

He hated this type of thing, even during the War when it was an everyday occurrence. There was an endless supply of soldiers needing immediate attention to wounds with no time to make it to a tent or to sterilize anything. Of course with that came infections, amputations and death. He had lost count of the men who died in his arms while he hopelessly told them that they were going to make it, to just hold on. The amount of times he had to tell a mother or wife that their son or husband wasn’t coming home. Funerals were not common for that time period in his era’s history due to the threat Cia and Ganondorf posed.

It was too familiar of a situation with Warriors sitting against a tree, Twilight between his legs to help cage him in. Blood had seeped through the tan trousers where the arrow was protruding out of his mid right thigh. Twilight’s hands trembled as he clung to Warriors arms. It was familiar, but he refused to let Twilight go down like so many he had seen.

“I have never done this.” Hyrule said with a wide eyed expression, face paling more by the second. No doubt due to the idea of what came next. “I’ve pulled out arrows, but not pushed one… in . If you have, don’t you think you should be doing this?”

Warriors gave Hyrule a flat look. “And you hold him during it? I’ll talk you through it. First thing is we need to cut the pant leg high above the working area, then clean the area.”

“Guess I’m gonna match the Vet with the sh-orts.” Twi chuckled. The other two stopped before they also joined in the bit of humor, knowing that this was Twilight’s way of dealing with the situation.

The Captain watched intensely as the healer did as instructed, more focused than panicked. Maybe that was the real goal of the joke. Twilight hissed through clenched teeth when Hyrule cleaned off the arrow shaft, the entry hole and where the arrow would be coming out at.

“Next?”

“You need to push it slow, steady and straight. If it bends too much it can snap inside his leg. Before we do this, go grab my bag.”

The bag dropped at his side, Warriors pulled out an extra belt, instructing Hyrule to cinch it tightly around the injured leg. He quickly found the inch and a half thick block of wood, wrapping a strip of leather around it. There were already teeth marks in the leather and the glare that came from the healer told him that that would be a conversation for later.

“Twilight, bite down on this. I don’t want you breaking teeth.” The Rancher opened his mouth to have the wood placed between his middle section of teeth with a small amount of wood sticking out on either side. The fact that Twi didn’t come back with a comment of any kind, even something dog related, told Warriors just how much pain the he was truly in.

“We ready?” Hyrule asked, looking Twilight over before locking eyes with Wars.

Twilight’s breathing picked up, but he nodded his head yes anyways. Warriors got Twilight to sit lower, allowing for the Captain to drape his right arm over the other’s right shoulder and over his chest. His left hand went over teary blue eyes, saying, “You don’t need to watch this.” There was a slight nod under his palm.

The moment Hyrule began to push the arrow through Twilight stiffened, spine locked. Both hands came up and clung to Warriors arm, no doubt leaving bruises under his fingertips. He held his breath, hissed around the wood, then held his breath again. The wood between his teeth creaked with the pressure. The veins on his neck and the single one in his forehead that matched Times bulged as his skin went dark red from holding his breath.

Hyrule never once stopped or slowed his work, not until Twilight moved his left leg, off setting the Traveler, forcing him to pause. That one movement turned into a string of twitches and flinches away from what was coming, not allowing Hyrule to continue. “Cap!”

Wars quickly slung his left leg over the top of Twi’s thigh, hooking his heel with the back of the knee, trapping the leg down as best he could. Resuming with the arrow, Twilight went rigid again, making the Captain work hard against the ungodly strength of his brother in arms. He just kept praying that Twilight would pass out from the pain.

“Warriors w-” Hyrule started, but was cut off.

“Keep the pressure right there.” The arrow, to his horror, was sharp enough to get through the skin and half the muscles, but it was too dull to push out the other side, catching on only the skin from the inside.

Warriors had to swallow down the bile that rose in his throat when he saw the arrow pushing out the other side, skin not giving way to the triangular blade under it. Instinctively he pulled his knife from his belt, moved his right arm to under Twilight’s chin to move his head from the sight and cut the sensitive skin holding the arrow back. The squelching sound of the first few inches of the arrow finally passing through was a sound that made Hyrule look how Warriors felt.

Twilight let out a final scream before his whole body went still, hands falling limply into his own lap, eyes closed, jaw laxed. He finally had enough, brain taking over to shut his body down.

Warriors laid the now out hero’s head back onto his upper chest, taking the wood from between his teeth and ran his fingers through his wet hair. “He’s going to be out for a while. Go ahead and break the back end of the arrow and pull out the rest. Then we can get him cleaned up.”

Hyrule placed both hands on the open wounds to pour magic into them; stitching the muscle, veins and skin to how it had been just that morning. If only his pant leg would work the same way with the magic. Warriors would ask the Vet to do it since he seemed to be the best out of all them to do patchwork. In no time Twilight's leg was healed, small scars left behind.

Looking at the Traveler, Warriors noticed the teen’s hands shaking. “Hey, you did great.” Big teary eyes looked at him. Oh, oh dear … Legend was going to kill him for adding more trauma to his successor. “Come here, it's okay.”

Hyrule took out his waterskin, washed off his hands, then dove into Warriors side. He held onto a section of Twi’s sleeve, watching him sleep looking tired his own self. “We only just got him back. This was too soon.”

Sighing, the Captain agreed and continued to run his fingers through the dark hair like he had before, easing his own nerves.

The silence was interrupted with a groan. “Time is going to kill us.”

“Ooh no, no. Malon is going to kill us and Time.”

[ktsaysthings]

100 Taylor Swift Titles (+2) and Where To Find Them

This is the answer sheet for dust off your highest hopes from The Story Of Us Fest.

1.august - "...not even considering the new set that will arrive midway through August."

2. willow - "...who she’d seen just this morning, watching silently out the window of her private room in the Janus Thickey ward as the willow tree below swayed and stretched over the murky green pond."

3. I Forgot That You Existed - "“Malfoy,” she says. “I forgot that you existed.”"

4. seven - "“We went to school together for seven years.”"

5. ivy - "Even the ivy climbing up the brick outside, once vibrant and green, is withering."

6. cardigan - "Hermione wraps her cardigan tightly around her middle..."

7. illicit affairs - "“So you thought you could come here and blackmail me into whatever illicit affairs you’re pulling post-war?”"

8. Mean - "“You didn’t say she’d be this mean.”"

9. Peter - "Dr. Peter Hanover"

10. betty - "Professor Betty Bernstein"

11. Run - "...eager to sweep the money into a bag and run straight back to St. Mungo’s."

12. mad woman - "...doesn’t think about the sharp blade or the cold hands or the mad woman that hovered above her--"

13. Labyrinth - "Hermione spies the portraits moving animatedly as they wind through the labyrinth that is Malfoy Manor..."

14. Haunted - "...so it’s only natural to feel haunted by her own screams..."

15. Blank Space - "...there’s a blank space on the wall, where she supposes Draco’s own portrait might rest some day after he’s dead."

16. The Other Side of the Door - "On the other side of the door is an expansive study..."

17. Crazier - "Before she can stumble over something even crazier..."

18. The Last Time - "...like thanking him for not giving her a repeat performance of the last time she was here..."

19. Gorgeous - "Looking gorgeous, darling.”"

20. Don't Blame Me - "“Don’t blame me!”"

21. Tell Me Why - "“—tell me why we’re missing the one thing we need to crack this—”"

22. Speak Now - "“Theo, you can speak now.”"

23. Message in a Bottle - "...a little birdie left me a proverbial message in a bottle with the address and date of the auction."

24. Paris - "Paris!"

25. Robin - "...a lovely lad named Robin..."

26. Beautiful Eyes - "...a stunning Frenchman, beautiful eyes..."

27. You're Losing Me - "“Puppies? Soundrack? You’re losing me,” Draco whines."

28. it's time to go - "“It’s time to go,” Theo says..."

29. Welcome to New York - "“Welcome to New York!”

30. I Hate It Here - "“I hate it here.”"

31. Clean - "...though she thinks no spell could leave her feeling clean after that."

32. Cornelia Street - "They stand at the corner of West Fourth and Cornelia Street..."

33. Daylight - "The sun is still up, the daylight startlingly bright."

34. Eyes Open - "“Eyes open, Malfoy.”"

35. Treacherous - "...from his treacherous experience in an enclosed metal tube..."

36. Shake It Off - "“Shake it off, darling,” Theo says..."

37. Out Of the Woods - "“We’re not out of the woods yet.”"

38. Don't You - "“Don’t you, Hermione?”"

39. Fearless - "“Our fearless Slytherin leader—”"

40. Dress - "...and the dress, darling, we were all drooling--""

41. Fifteen - "...the color of her dress from nearly fifteen years ago."

42. Babe - "...weren’t you, babe?"

43. We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together - "“We are never, ever getting back together. Like ever.”"

44. I Did Something Bad - "“I did something bad, and now we’re being kicked out.”"

45. Karma - "“Karma will get you, Malfoy...”"

46. Both of Us - "“I think I speak for both of us..."

47. The Best Day - "...when I say this was the best day.”"

48. Superstar - "“My superstar.”"

49. Lover - "“To be his lover, obviously.”"

50. Bye Bye Baby - "Theo blows her a kiss. “Bye bye, baby.”"

51. Maroon - "until it’s a large, maroon throw blanket spread out on the concrete of the roof."

52. The Archer - "Sagittarius, the archer."

53. Change - "...I didn’t think you could change, but—maybe you have.”"

54. I Think He Knows - "“I think he knows, Draco. You saved his life that night at Malfoy Manor.”"

55. The Black Dog - "“Because I’m the black dog of wizarding society—”"

56. Better Man - "...“you’re a better man than I thought you were.”"

57. peace - "...and side by side they sit in peace and quiet on the roof until the barest hints of dawn threaten the horizon."

58. Beautiful Ghosts - "Beautiful ghosts, the two of them."

59. Better Than Revenge - "“What I have planned for you, Draco Malfoy, is far better than revenge.”"

60. How Did It End? - "“You and Weasley. How did it end?”"

61. False God - "...the brainless twit who spent several teenage years worshipping him like a false God?"

62. The Man - "...the man who roped her on this wild goose chase..."

63. We Were Happy - "“We were happy.”

64. Innocent - "Innocent, almost."

65. Now That We Don't Talk - "“And now that we don’t talk at all..."

66. It's Nice to Have A Friend - "“Admittedly, it’s nice to have a friend.”"

67. If This Was a Movie - "If this was a movie, you’d need a distraction.”"

68. Getaway Car - "“...I should be allowed to drive the getaway car.”"

69. Invisible - "...as little by little, him limbs and torso disappear until he’s invisible."

70. I Can See You - "“I can see you, idiot. Try again.”"

71. Breathe - "Hermione can feel Theo breathe down her neck..."

72. Bejeweled - "...instead showing them a bejeweled pinwheel..."

73. The Manuscript - "and a tattered, ancient text that he insists is the manuscript for the bible."

74. That's When - "That’s when an explosion shakes the walls."

75. Red - "The man is beet red..."

76. thanK you aIMee - "“Thank you, Aimee.”"

77. All You Had to Do Was Stay - "“All you had to do was stay put.”"

78. You're Not Sorry - "“You’re not sorry at all, are you?”"

79. Enchanted - "...while she watches the enchanted books reorganize themselves."

80. Starlight - "The night sky is swirling with starlight, thousands of tiny little lights dancing behind the glass."

81. Wildest Dreams - "“Better than even my wildest dreams.”"

82. Delicate - "...and she feels the delicate graze of his fingertips across her hip and down her thigh..."

83. Begin Again - "...pulling out fresh parchment so she can begin again."

84. Holy Ground - "...of a sacred artifact protected on holy ground by magical sentries and extensive booby traps..."

85. epiphany - "...it isn’t until the very last page in the journal that she’s struck by an epiphany."

86. End Game - "“What’s your end game?”"

87. Everything Has Changed - "In an instant, everything has changed."

88. Birch - "...at the edge of a grove of tall, white barked birch trees."

89. The Outside - "and stitch the outside of the wound closed."

90. ME! - "“I won’t let you take it from me!”"

91. Mine - "“It’s mine,” he growls..."

92. All Too Well - "She knows pain and regret and desperation all too well."

93. Two Is Better Than One - "“I guess two is better than one.”"

94. The Lucky One - "“The lucky one of us that gets to the grail first keeps it. Deal?”"

95. Castles Crumbling - "...only moments before the castle’s crumbling around them."

96. closure - "Is he here for some misguided sense of closure?"

97. The Alchemy - "...but the alchemy is sound.”"

98. I Almost Do - "...Every time I work up the courage, I almost do it..."

99. hoax - "...And I’ll have fed my mother a thousand year old cracker for a hoax.”"

100. happiness - "No one is brave enough to ruin her happiness by telling him off."

+1. the 1 - "“—tell me why we’re missing the one thing we need to crack this—”" (the changed spelling is what put this on the fence for me)

+2. Macavity - "...from a one Macavity Jones..." (Taylor didn't write this one, so I wasn't sure if it should count)

[tmbatcat]

hi hello!! :] 14, 15, 24, 38 for questions!

Hi Voli! Always happy to see you <3

14 What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

Hmm... Probably going outside alone exactly how I want to go dressed.

When I go outside with a person my anxiety is dampened (don't know how else to put it) but when I'm alone my anxiety screams "everybody's looking at you!!! Your acting weird and everyone you’re passing thinks your clothes are too much. They are all judging your every move!!" and I'm just tired... also I sometimes hide more colorful items in my bag if I'm particularly more anxious that day, which is annoying >:( I want to look cool but I don't want to stand out. I want to not care

15 What do you think of when you hear the word “home”?

Where I'm from, where I'm now, the ARG Welcome Home (but I think that's just my pattern recognition speaking)

(I could tell you in dms where I'm from and stuff, just want to not put it extremely accessible on the blog)

24 What’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

For getting to this point, for even having friends, for making friend on tumblr, for drawing those funny cat really well.

For every lil thing that got me where I am now.

38 Fave song at the moment?

[Sorry in advance... ]

Hard to choose. I'm going to tell you a (not so) secret while I think of my answer.

I only listen to the same 246 songs everyday. Last year was when I think I added the most songs in a while, that being like 34? (I know, impressive/s). They all give me at least a happiness lvl of 6 or above(1 being "I'm not listening to this ever again" and 12 being "If I don't listen to this on repeat an hour straight I will explode"). So I like them a lot. Ok now to my actual answer/s...

My opinions:

*× Fate of the stars by Tally Hall +*, a solid 9 <3

*+ Sinking Feeling by Jack Conte ×* 10, need to put it on repeat at least once

*× Hayloft II (Burning Barn Acoustic) by Mother Mother +* 9 pretty good :)

*+ Villainous Things by Shayfer James ×* 11 nice

*× Eat you by Caravan of thieves +* idk the instrumentals just hit 10

*+ Welcome to the circus by skittish ×* theee instrumentals!!! 10

My brainicals opinions (the new sacrifices)(they will all be drained of their joy juice eventually)[don't listen to these one's, they all need more draining to actually get a real answer]:

*× We forgot we were human by Dirt Poor Robins +* 10

*+ Diggin' up hatchets by Shafer James +* 11

*× Cicada days by Will Wood +* 11

*+ Eat by Jack Conte ×* 10

*× The Woods by San Fermin +* 12 12 12

My badd :|

If you actually want a more detailed list that I didn't spent only 30 min making just ask me <3

Do you want to do this question thing too? Should I ask you?

[blossominghunnie]

𝐙𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐬𝐞

Day 2

Pairing: Hamada Asahi x fem!oc

Genre: Horror, zombie apocalypse au, all of us are dead inspired

Summary: One day Haneul was a normal student and the next she was running from zombies with her almost boyfriend, her friends and classmates, trying to survive.

Warning: Cussing, mentions of death, blood, zombies

Notes: Had to include a zombie apocalypse jsjs.

Haneul never imagined her junior year of high school to go like this. She was supposed to keep her good grades, and have a great time with her friends, before applying to her dream school to study medicine.

But life had other plans, she supposed.

Instead, she, Asahi, her friend group and some classmates were running from the eating flesh monsters they’ve been calling zombies.

“Hurry, get in here!” Someone shouted as they opened the door to a classroom on the third floor.

“Come on, come on!”

“AH!” Haneul heard someone scream, she was in the middle of the group so she had to jump a little to see who it was.

Horrified, she turned around and started weeping. She felt a hand intertwining with hers. “Are you okay? What happened?”

She couldn’t speak until almost all were safe and sound on the classroom.

“Hayun was bitten.” She started crying.

“Oh, honey.” He hugged her tightly. “I’m so sorry.”

The girl couldn’t believe it, she lost her best friend since she was 3.

“I know it’s tough but you know I’m always here for you.”

“Thank you, Sahi.” She hugged him tightly.

“Anytime, Hannie.”

Days passed and more friends and classmates were transformed to zombies, reducing the once big group to a small group of 7; Haneul, Asahi, Junkyu, Jeongwoo, Yoshi, Jihoon and Jaehyuk.

The moral was too low because of this but if they wanted to keep surviving they needed a new plan.

“I know we are devastated cause of the losses we’ve had but we need to keep moving.” Jihoon spoke looking at his remaining friends.

“Ji is right, we can morn once we are safe.” Jaehyuk backed him up.

“Alright, what’s the plan?” Asahi asked from his place against the wall. Haneul was cuddled up on his right arm, looking dissociated. The past couple of days hadn’t been the best. She was fine one minute and the next she felt like shit.

She was grateful the blonde never left her side.

She had a “complicated” relationship with Asahi. They weren’t a couple but they definitely weren’t friends. They were very touchy with the other, at least in private he was too. In public he limited himself to hand holding and hugging.

He was planning on asking her to be his girlfriend when all hell broke loose. She meant everything to him and wanted to make things official.

He would have to do it once this mess was over.

Anyway, the group agreed to leave the classroom at sunrise, and head straight to the woods where they would look for a shelter for survivors.

Thankfully it was raining by the time they had to go, which meant it would make zombies go numb and it would be easier for them to walk pass them.

They carefully speed walked and killed any creature that tried to attack them.

Asahi had Haneul by the hand and tried his best for her to not see any of her dead friends, she was pretty sensitive so he knew seeing them again and in that state would break her even more.

They successfully made it to the woods without getting hurt.

That was until they reached a street, and walked farther. There, they saw a big amount of zombies.

Freaking out, they hold their weapons tighter and pointed to their heads.

They were struggling but had a good pace so they didn’t come too close to them.

Until Asahi got distracted for a second.

“ASAHI! LOOK OUT.” Haneul shouted, not caring that more zombies could come.

By the time he turned around one bit him on the leg.

“NO!” The girl cried hard and ran to help him. She killed the pest and held the blonde, placing him on the floor.

“You’re gonna be okay, love.” She repeated over and over, it felt as if it was more to comfort herself than for the Japanese.

Meanwhile he just looked at her with glassy eyes. He caressed her cheek softly.

“Thank you for everything, princess. I never got to tell you but I wanted to make you my girl and that I also love you so so much.” A tear fell slowly as he finished what he thought were gonna be his final words.

“I love you so much too, Sahi. And I would have loved to be your girlfriend.” She sobbed and hugged him tightly.

“Han, we have to go. There’s more coming.” Yoshi worriedly said.

“B-but I can’t leave him.”

“We have to, I’m sorry.” He looked at her with a sad expression.

“But it doesn’t look like he’s transforming. He could be a hambie.” She insisted, calling him a term that one of their late friends used to describe a psycho classmate that tried to kill them at the beginning of the crisis.

He sighted. “Okay, but if he turns we’ll need to kill him. Now come on, let’s get out of here.”

She nodded and grabbed the blonde with the help of Jeongwoo. Putting his arms around their shoulders.

They continued their journey until they saw a jail that was being used as a Safe Zone.

The doctors there ran some tests, asked them a few questions and in no time they were on their own tents, located by the quarantine zone.

The pair was laying down on the mattress that was provided to them, cuddling. Haneul had her head on his chest and Asahi had his arm around her waist.

Turns out, he indeed was a hambie. He was perfectly fine, so far.

The blonde asked the girl the long awaited question right after they settled so, they could proudly say they were finally dating.

Them and their friends could feel like everything was okay, at last.

But only time would tell what was going to happen next.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

5 Days Halloween Challenge masterlist || Treasure masterlist || Main masterlist