#Twi comforts himself

[adrift-in-thyme]

I’ve never requested anything before so I hope this is right!

I’m going with some Malink angst, I absolutely LOVEEE reading your whump fics for them so I guess… more pain please? 🥲 if that’s okay?

Tysm for the prompt @endlessartpumpkin <333 I had a lot of fun with this one. It’s very angsty hehe

I hope you enjoy it!

CW for blood and injury

——————————

Malon has always been aware of the possibility that Link would die before her. He is a hero, after all, her knight in shining armor through and through. If someone needs help — whether to reunite with a loved one or save an entire kingdom — he will never refuse them.

Sometimes, she has the selfish yearning that just once…he would.

And now, as she gazes at the heroes standing on her doorstep, as she gazes at her husband lying limp in Twilight’s arms, she wants it more than ever. Because Link, who is full of life and laughter and love, Link who has faced the moon itself and lived to tell the tale, her Link who proposed with the biggest, gaudiest ring in Hyrule because he wanted to show her how much he cared…Link the love of her life should never look like he does right now.

She steps forward, one hand held to her lips, the other reaching out to touch him.

He is so pale. His chest hardly rises, breathing so shallow it is hardly there at all. If she allowed it, she could be convinced that he is already gone.

Malon forces herself to take a deep breath. She won’t do that. She won’t imagine that her fairy boy is dead.

“What happened?” She asks, tone sharp with panic.

It is Twilight who answers, in a broken voice she has never heard him use before.

“He…he took a hit that was meant for me.”

His breath hitches. It is only slight, but Malon hears it anyway. She lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. When he looks at her, there is such pain in those gray eyes, such sorrow, that it breaks her heart.

There is hardly time to comfort him, however. They both know it.

“Bring him inside,” she orders, shoving aside the emotions churning about inside her. “Set him on the bed. I’ll get some supplies.”

Twilight moves without a word. The others follow him into the house, expressions tight and pained.

A hand comes to rest on her shoulder. “I’ll get the supplies,” Warriors says. His face is a mask rapidly shattering. But he smiles, strong for her, strong for the man he calls his little brother.

“You go to him.”

Malon nods, sighing. “Thank you, dear. The medical stuff is in the bathroom. You remember where that is, don’t you?”

“Of course.” In a swirl of royal blue fabric, Warriors is gone.

Taking a moment to steel herself, Malon heads into the bedroom.

They have already laid him on the bed when she steps through the doorway. From this angle, if she didn’t know better, she would think he was merely asleep. But unfortunately, she does know better. And the ashen color of his face, the sheen of sweat upon his brow, the feverish trembling of his body tells her a different story.

Then, of course, there is the blood.

The heroes are in the process of bandaging him. (They work quickly, she thinks with a spark of pride.) But even the thick swaths of fabric that they wind around his abdomen can only do so much to halt the onslaught of crimson liquid.

It soaks them through within minutes.

Malon makes her limbs move, bringing her forward. There is no time to sit here and gaze in horror at what has become of her husband. With firm hands, she grabs a new roll of gauze and sets to work.

Between the ten of them, Link’s wound is cleaned and wrapped in little time. And through it all, Hyrule stands beside her, magic glowing at his palms, trying in vain to heal the injury. But it fights back of its own accord.

“What on earth hurt him like this?” Malon asks, voice tight. The other heroes have backed up now, giving her room to stand by her husband’s bedside. She leans over him, fingers brushing aside his limp bangs. He gives a shuddering breath and turns slightly into her touch.

“We don’t know what manner of monster it is yet,” Warriors says. “But it’s stronger than its companions, and smarter too. And…when someone gets struck by it the wound struggles to heal.”

Malon swallows. “But it does heal eventually, right?” She looks up at all of them, at their sorrowful expressions, at the way they struggle to meet her eyes. “Right?”

“It can.” It’s Twilight now, his voice gravelly from the tears he struggles to restrain. “He’s just gotta keep fighting.”

She turns back to her fairy boy. A ray of sun illuminates the side of his face, making his markings stand out starkly against his pale skin. The crimson stripes look especially fierce in the early morning light.

“He will,” she says, and it is both a demand and a plea, a promise and a prayer. “Don’t y’all worry. He will.”

….

It isn’t until that night that he awakens. The other heroes have drifted away by then, reluctant to leave, but all too aware of the suffocating nature of everyone packed into one room. Only Hyrule and Twilight remain. But both have finally caved to her urgings for them to get some much-needed rest and are slumped over the arm chairs in the corners.

So, when Link drags open his eye, she is the only one who sees it.

His gaze is bright with fever and pain, its usual sharpness dulled. But it only takes him a moment to find her.

“Malon.”

It is breathed more than spoken, hardly a hoarse whisper. He lifts a trembling hand, clumsily cupping her cheek. Gently, she threads her fingers between his.

“I’m here, hon.”

“Mal I…” His breath hitches into a wet cough. It wracks his body, violently, and sends tears sliding down his cheeks. The sound of it tears her heart in two.

“Take it easy, fairy boy.” She fetches a cloth from the side table and wipes away the blood that dribbles from his lips. “That monster did a number on you.”

Link hums. “Would’ve hurt Twilight if-if I hadn’t…”

“I know.” A small, sad smile lifts her lips. “I know.”

He sags against the pillows, breathing shallow, eye half-lidded. He is already fading again, Malon can tell. So soon, too soon.

“The boys,” he whispers, “they’re…”

“Fine. Worried sick about you though. You scared ‘em half to death.”

She shakes her head. The pain within her feels like it will cleave her chest in half.

“Why’d you use your own body to block the blow, Link? You’ve got shields and items – so many of them I can’t even keep track of ‘em all. Aren’t those there to try and make sure this-this…doesn’t happen?”

Link’s expression dulls further. He looks all of his true years now, weighed down by the duties he has long born, exhausted from a lifetime of pain.

“Knocked my shield out of my hand.” He looks up at her and something in his gaze pleads that she understand. “There wasn’t time for-for anything else.”

Malon gazes at him for a long moment.

“You’re insufferable, fairy boy,” she says, at last, a choked chuckle erupting out of her. “Why’d I have to fall in love with such a hero?”

He smiles back, though it is a weak effort.

“Because…of my unbelievably good looks.”

She laughs again and it sounds more like a sob.

“Well, I can’t pretend that that wasn’t a part of it.”

He chuckles, but it quickly dissolves into another coughing fit. She holds his hand through it, battling against the tears that beg to pour forth. And when it is over, she wipes away the blood again, and the tears. He closes his eye and leans into her touch.

“You gotta promise me somethin, fairy boy,” she murmurs, as she sets the cloth aside and rubs her thumb against his cheek instead.

Link looks up at her, something terribly vulnerable in his expression. She has only ever seen him gaze at her with such a look. It is an overwhelmingly precious thing.

“Anything,” he says and she believes him.

“You keep fighting, no matter what.” She encases his hand in two of her own, grip as desperate and firm as her words. “Don’t you give up, you hear me? Don’t you dare even think of giving up.”

Her voice cracks, but she plows on anyway. “I can’t lose you, Link.”

His lips quirk up in the slightest of smiles. When he squeezes her hand, it is a feeble movement, but it is there nonetheless, a confirmation that he has heard her.

“I won’t,” he breathes. “Promise.”

The tears come now, cascading down her cheeks in traitorous rivulets. She brushes them away. Then, leaning down, she plants a gentle kiss on Link’s brow.

“Good.”

His eye flutters closed. “Love you, Mal,” he murmurs, voice so soft and quiet she has to strain to catch the words.

But she does. She catches them like the flitting butterflies she used to capture between two careful hands when she was a girl. And she holds them close to her heart.

“I love you too, fairy boy.”

[risuola]

ENTRY #13 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // How much I appreciate you I only know when I lose you.

contents: arranged marriage!au, little post-argument scenario, just a hint of hurt and lots of comfort — wc. 974

a/n: experimenting continue, I like the slight change in writing and uhhh... will there be a second post to the series today because I can't wait any longer to post the nsfw part? yeah, probably. maybe tomorrow if I have enough self-restraint.

series masterlist

When Satoru enters the bedroom, you’re already there. It’s late, nearly midnight, but you’re up, in the dim, yellow-ish lights of your nightstand lamp, you seem distant. With some papers spread and open, you’re on your side, your back facing the middle of the bed — facing him, and he sighs at the sound of silence, at the lack of your reaction to his presence. It’s in the moments like this when he appreciates the smiles you always offer him, the softness of your voice whenever you greet him, the sparkle in your eyes as you look at him. It’s true that one learns to value a thing the moment it’s gone.

So he puts down his glasses, careful to not make it too loud and he offers a “hey” as he’s sitting down on his side of the mattress. He studies your frame, the curve of your hip and waist, your tensed shoulders, the way one of your hands support your head as you read; the sound of pages rustling is the only thing that fills the room. He hears you exhaling a little deeper, a little longer and he knows you’re not going to wish him goodnight.

Satoru lets out a huff of air out of his lungs and decides to be stubborn. He knows it’s justified, the way you’re acting — that day began with a fight and he said a little too much, a little too loud, then left the house, left you. He hates the way he acted, it’s been a while since you last had an argument and it didn’t feel good. It haunted him all day, you were all his thoughts and he struggled to focus on anything of his own knowing you were out in the field. He’s sent you a message earlier, he has sent few of them, but you left him on read — and that was enough to tell him that you’re alive and well enough to check your phone. But he missed your voice and the cheesy emojis you always use when texting him. The day felt incomplete without the blue hearts on his screen, the ones you liked the most because they had a color of his eyes.

He gets on the bed and leans towards you, lowering himself enough to nuzzle his face to your lower back as his arm snakes around you. He feels you tense for a split second but you do nothing to push him away and he takes it as a yes. Satoru breathes you in, takes in the scent of your skin, kisses you tenderly, pressing his lips right next to the little dimples above your bottom. You feel the warmth spreading from his touch and reaching the very tips of your body and it feels soothing. It feels like you’re finally home.

Your sleeping top rides up under his ministrations, exposing your hip and your husband is quick to cover area with little kisses. He moves up, resting his head at the dip of your waist as his hand is tracing idle circles onto the silky flesh of your side. You sigh again, putting down the papers. You couldn’t focus on them anyway, not when his eyes are drawing you in.

“Satoru…”

“I know sweet cheeks, I messed up,” he admits and you close your eyes. The argument from the morning has been weighing you down and it surprised you how quickly you got used to spending good time with Satoru, forgetting how bumpy the ride was when you were straight out of the altar. Then it was your daily, then you fought more than talked normally and you never thought too much of those arguments after they happened. Then, you didn’t care. But now you do. Now, as the feelings between you and him are growing stronger and stronger, you do care. A lot.

“I messed up too,” you say and he moves again. His hand swiftly gathers all the documents you had spread out and pushes them off the bed and onto the nightstand. You twist your torso and he’s above you, his lips on your neck and he nips at your skin. It’s gentle, it’s intimate, it’s warm. You love his kisses.

Satoru is all or nothing when it comes to intimacy, and with you, he’s all in. He kisses you in ways that have your breath hitching, your heart beating faster, your face feeling hotter. He kisses like he’s savoring you, like you’re a dessert he’s been waiting for his entire life. Even the gentlest pecks convey so much passion, he’s slow about them, allowing his lips to meet your skin properly. He tastes you, breathes you in. And he loves to keep you close while doing it. His hands tend to plant themselves on your waist, wrap around your back, hold the nape of your neck. His hands like to wander, to explore. He has to touch you, he needs the skin-on-skin contact, he craves it more than he craves air and you love that in him. You love how he opened to you, stripped himself off the infinity and allowed you in.

Gojo pulls you closer, until there’s no space left between you and his chest. He rests finally, melting against the mattress as he cradles you in his arms and you can feel the tension leaving his body — and yours does too.

“I’m sorry, I hate to see you upset,” he says finally, his mouth against the top of your head and you hum, inhaling him in, with your nose buried into his chest. Your fingers paint gentle patterns on his bare back and you kiss his skin. “I didn’t mean to cause a fight and I didn’t mean to say what I said.”

“I know, Toru,” you reply, closing your eyes. “I’m sorry too.”

“Sleep well wifey.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @stuckinmoilalaland @ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @mo0sin @just-pure-trash @foliea @bakarinnie @big-booty-joe @fortunatelyfurrygiver @lolita-h

[hxney-lemcn]

Affection-Starved — The Chain x gn! reader

summary: poor reader isn't used to the casual affection the group offers, but their favorite Link finds himself indulging in giving them some extra love.

a/n: Wind's is obvi platonic, some of these got more out of hands than others...oops. Not 100% romantic but like...lowkey is who am I trying to fool LMAO

wc: 3.1k

Master List

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Legend

As much as Legend liked to pretend he didn’t care, he was probably the one who knew the most about each member of the chain. He found himself watching the others, taking in each member’s small quirks. The way Twilight’s nose would twitch at a smell no one else could perceive, how Hyrule seemed entranced with shiny objects, how you always seem entranced with any form of affection. You were pretty good at hiding it, if not for the way your shoulders would tense or the way your lips twitched to keep your natural expression as Twilight ruffled your hair or Wars bumped your shoulders. 

It honestly ate at Legend. You clearly liked the affection, your smile becoming a bit warmer and your eyes hopeful. For someone who was trying to push others away (you especially since you were particularly dangerous), he was doing a terrible job. Once again, Legend found himself watching the others, most chatting happily or playing a game, Time was out patrolling the parameter, and you…you looked…sad. Did the others really not notice? Your eyes looked so crestfallen, even if your usual neutral expression rested on your face. You had isolated yourself from the others, that itch eating away at Legend. You had grown on him, a dangerous prospect to the hero of legend, but he’d be damned if he just let you mope alone. 

So, putting his sewing kit away, Legend found himself sitting beside you. His stiffness melted as seconds passed without a word, the fire crackling a few meters away. With a sigh, he finally gained the confidence to wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. He could feel your muscles tense under him, the way you hesitated in his hold. ‘Is this okay?’ he whispered so only you could hear, and the small nod you gave made him relax. Slowly you relaxed with him, putting more of your weight into his side. Legend could feel the stare of the others burn into you both, but he ignored them in favor of feeling your warmth surrounding him.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Twilight

Twi was naturally more affectionate than he realized. Growing up and taking care of the village children, he didn’t notice when he ruffled someone's hair or pulled them into a side hug. That was until he found your startled expression, which you had quickly tried to fix. He tried to apologize, but you cut him off stating that you just weren’t used to…well affection in general. Poor boy's heart split in two at that. Now he had a new mission to accomplish. Getting you used to affection. Hugs, patting your back, holding your wrist, hip checking you…okay so some forms were more teasing than others, and he may have found himself smug everytime he managed to make you crack your cool facade, but he also enjoyed the soft smiles that inevitably spread across your lips.

Twi would be lying if he said he didn’t shower you with more affection than the others. He loved your reactions, the way you shied away, even better when you slowly started embracing it. The first time you had initiated affection had him smiling widely and blushing profusely. It wasn’t much. An uncertain, shy expression rested on your features, you were clearly nervous. Twi found himself anticipating what could possibly make you feel this way, his imagination getting the best of him. Your hand raised up as you patted his mousy hair gently. He felt his cheeks warm at how cute you were, a giant smile overtaking him. He had refrained from teasing you too much, not wanting to scare you off.

This man is so, so smug no matter what, feeling proud that you felt comfortable enough with him. It’s strange how you could make something he didn’t think twice about become something all he could think about. He didn’t mind though, he liked the way you managed to make his heart flutter with every little touch.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Sky

He didn’t really notice at first. In fact, he was dead asleep the first time he pulled you into his impromptu cuddle pile. When he awoke, your form snug into his side, he didn’t think much of it. Sure it was nice, you were warm and he felt sleep call for him once more, but it was normal to find himself wrapped around the other heroes, it was bound to happen with you. With a sleep smile, he found himself nuzzling back into your hair…until he felt how fast your heart was beating…how were you not dead? Sky unwillingly pulled away, you were in fact awake and it looked like you were in pain. Quickly, Sky scrambled back, sleepiness long forgotten in his worry of your comfort. 

You apologized, much to his confusion, shyly mumbling about how you didn’t mind, you just weren’t used to such affections. Shaking his head, he sent you a beaming smile, mentioning that if he or anyone else ever made you uncomfortable to let them know. Yet that didn’t seem to be the problem at all. In fact it seemed like you yearned for the intimate acts, always placing yourself beside Sky as he slowly nodded off. You had become his pillow more likely than not, and it almost seemed like you were anticipating it. The thought made his stomach fill with butterflies and a blush coat his cheeks. 

It was when your hand had found its way into his hair one night that he knew he was a goner. Your touches were gentle and hesitant, fingers softly carding through his hair making both his eyes droop and heart accelerate. His arms found purchase around your torso, head nuzzling into your shoulder. It had become very clear to everyone just who his favorite cuddling buddy was, and he’s not sure if he’d cuddle with anyone else ever again.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Hyrule

The boy wasn’t as confident as the others, finding himself in awe of their everything. That seemed to be something the two of you could relate to. The other heroes made everything look easy, from swinging a sword showing their care. Hyrule always wanted to join in when Warriors would hug your shoulders when you managed to improve your fighting technique, or when Wind would drag you around by your hand so effortlessly. Little did you know that Hyrule admired you as well, watching in awe as you managed to keep up with seasoned fighters despite being a civilian yourself. 

It wasn’t until you found yourself hurt that he finally managed to initiate any contact between you both. It was a small scrape, barely there on your palm and a small frown on your lips. Hyrule didn’t hesitate to heal the wound, finger tips glowing as your skin mended back together. Your eyes widened, cheeks warming at the feeling of his fingers barely touching your palm. You must’ve gotten too used to being with the others as your fingers twitched, intertwining your fingers. Hyrule felt his face burn as you whispered a small thanks, your smile was so warm and you were looking at him so softly…

You were internally going crazy. You had never initiated something like this before, it felt so intimate, but the way Rulie couldn’t meet your eyes but continued to hold your hand confirmed your hypothesis. He was just like you all those months ago when you first joined the rag tag group, and they had helped bring you out of your shell, so you would help Rulie break out of his. It was still hard for you to reach out first, but you made yourself try, starting out small until Hyrule found himself reaching for you first, meeting each other halfway. You never thought you’d be the one to help break someone out of their shell, but you didn’t mind if it meant you had a cute traveller glued to your side. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Time

Time himself was more closed off, with arms crossed and always slightly outside of the group. It was clear to anyone with eyes that even if he was an integral part of the group, he did not see himself fully a part of it. Time noticed that you seemed to feel the same way, watching longingly as the others rough-housed like you wanted to join, or how your face lit up when they’d mess up your hair (no matter how much you grumbled and pouted). Time found himself endeared by you, it was clear you were not used to such affections, but made every effort to act like it didn’t affect you as much as it did. He couldn’t help the mischievous part of him that would reach out for your hand or brush your hair away from your face, soaking up your flustered reactions. 

Time was much more subtle with his affections towards you than the others, which only seemed to make his actions all the more special. He wouldn’t admit that the way your stunning eyes searched for him made him feel more smug, or the way you’d walk by his side during your treks warmed him. You were just the sweetest thing, and he found himself having a sweet tooth more often than not. Oh, and when you had jumped one night, the sound of a twig breaking in the forest startled you, causing you to cling to his arm…he was basically putty. Your eyes frantically searched for any sign of a monster as you pushed further into his side. Time decided not to tease you too much, as your world didn’t have monsters like theirs did, and he took his arm out of your hold only to wrap it around your waist. 

You tensed in his hold, this was the most affection Time had ever shown you, but when his hand found your hair, gently soothing you that it was mostly likely some sort of animal, you ended up melting in his hold. You could feel the others watching, snickers sounded just over the crackling of the fire, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at the moment, lost in the comfort that was known as Time.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Four

Another one that isn’t super affectionate, more likely to smack someone’s head than hug them, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care. Four noticed that you seemed uncomfortable with touch. Maybe uncomfortable wasn’t the best word, more like tense. He also didn’t miss the way you would lean into it, trying to act nonchalant. It made him smile, you were sweet if not a bit awkward. When he found himself holding your hand while leading you through a dark cave, he couldn’t help the bright red blush that coated his cheeks, grateful that he was in front of you so you couldn’t see. Four may not be as affectionate as the others, but he didn’t react like this either. Whatever, he didn’t want to think about it. 

And when you started to slowly interact with him like the others, patting his shoulder, tugging on his sleeve or hell, even just sitting closer to him than normal, he felt like his heart was going to give out on him. Why were you so cute? Always so hesitant like you were afraid of making him upset, eyes watching him expectantly like you wanted him to hold you as well. Was that what you wanted? Goddesses the thought made his blood boil with how flustered he was. Oh and it was even worse when he woke up to the sound of chuckling snorts, opening his eyes and being met with your chest. He nearly screamed, jumping out of your hold and effectively waking you up. Damn Sky, who had his arm wrapped around the both of you before Four made his escape. 

After that you had stopped, taking his reaction as how uncomfortable you had been making him feel, which was not true whatsoever. And so, he found he had to rectify his mistake, trying his hardest to hold your hand without it becoming a death grip or burying his face in your neck every time you hugged. Yet it was worth it with the way your eyes lit up with every touch.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Wind

Wind, as much as he’d like to boast, did not have such a keen eye when it came to someone’s emotions. Not that he was oblivious, but with childlike glee, he found himself more entranced with the thrill of a fight or adventure more than anything. And, as children are known for, he did not have a sense of boundaries whatsoever. Never hesitating to grab your hand and drag you towards danger, or jumping on your back to get your attention. Of course, if you got hurt because of something he did he’d feel guilty, latching onto you until you managed to quell his fears. 

He huffed and puffed when the others told him to dial it back around you. Why would he do that? You deserved to be bothered as much as the rest of them! From poking your cheek when he’s bored to cackling when you did something embarrassing, he refused to treat you any differently than the others. The thought was just absurd! You had even shaken your head with a fond smile, muttering that you didn’t mind all that much, leaving the young hero to puff his chest and stick his tongue out at the others. ‘That’s right, losers, you heard them, I’m their favorite!’ Wind cheered. ‘I wouldn’t go that far.’ One of them murmured, but left it at that. 

The best moments were when he’d tuck into your lap, listening to you ramble about your own world and how different it was from theirs. It made him feel so warm and safe, you made him feel protected, even if you sucked at fighting. You were like an older sibling he never had, something he didn’t even know he wanted until you pulled him close to you protectively once as some rude adult tried swatting at him. He had never seen you so angry, nor heard you say such angry words towards anyone before. He was a giggly mess by the end, telling the others with an exaggerated story about the events that transpired earlier, leaning into your side with a hug. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Warriors

As much as the flirt liked to make everyone believe he was knowledgeable with love in any form it came in…he very much was not. In fact, it was kind of the opposite. Warriors found your shy reactions to be like those who only cared about his pretty face. He knew you weren’t like that, but something in his gut didn’t feel right, and so he found himself distancing himself from you physically…until he saw you have the same reaction to almost every single one of them. Your eyes darting away when Twi’s hand brushed against yours, how your shoulders tensed when Time patted them, or how you stood stock still when Wind hugged you. It wasn’t because you saw them all romantically…so why were you so shy when it came to even the smallest touch?

Wars got his answer one day while you both were in a small town. You had been walking down a semi busy street when someone brushes past you, causing you to squeeze as close to Warriors side, an uncomfortable look on your face. Due to his confused expression, you explained how you don’t like being touched by people you don’t know, mainly because you’re not used to being touched period. It was then when everything clicked in his head, and guilt for his first assumption slowly consumed him. Biting his lip, Wars threw an arm around your shoulder, keeping you close to his side until your shopping was done. 

From then on Warriors found himself more affectionate around you. Everyone noticed the change, you included, but you refused to bring it up, not wanting him to stop. Not only had his actions become warmer towards you, but he found himself complimenting you more as well. Even he wasn’t fully sure where this was coming from. Relief that you weren’t another person swooning over his good looks, trying to make up for the guilt that had filled his gut, or perhaps maybe…just maybe he found himself enjoying the way you reciprocated his touches, something you didn’t do for many others, and the thought of being special to you made his heart flip.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Wild

With Wild’s attention being dragged from something or another, whether it be a crazy idea to what may test the best in a dish, he’s too unfocused to even realize you tense posture when he places a hand on your arm as he slides past or how you refuse to meet his eyes when he feeds you a small spoon of the food to taste test. That’s not to say he doesn’t notice at all, just that it takes him so long that you’re already comfortable with his unconscious touches. He has to bite his lip from grinning too much when you nuzzle into his touch unknowingly, or to stop himself from squeezing the daylights out of you when you hug him so firmly. 

Don’t get him started with the way you fret over him. Wild’s always getting himself in danger even when he’s not trying, and you’re always the first one to run over and check to make sure he’s okay. The way your hands hesitate for a split second before gently grabbing whatever you deem was most possible to be injured, how your touch is so gentle when you inspect his skin, or how your eyes melt from concern to fond frustration as you lightly scold him for scaring you. The way you care is so sweet, so scared, like you’re afraid he’ll push you away if you get too close, but Wild would never do such a thing. In fact, he finds himself meeting you halfway, grasping your hand firmly as to quell any insecurity or fear from your mind. 

The one time you not only find yourself hurt, but because of Wild’s reckless actions guilt consumes him entirely. He had not only put your safety at risk, but you had gotten seriously hurt, something Wild vowed to protect you from. He tried pulling away, feeling it would be better if you weren’t so close, but you had stopped him in his tracks when you held onto his wrist tightly, eyes silently pleading for him to stay. It was the first time he had ever seen you touch someone without even an ounce of worry, clearly desperate for some comfort, and Wild was at your side in an instant. How could he ever take that comfort away from you?

[luimagines]

Could I have Twi giving Y/N a matching Wolf pelt? (I imagine he collected his fur to get it sneakily)

-🍃

Oh! I can work with this! :D

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Twilight suddenly wasn't super confident about this idea.

Was he weird? Was this weird? Because if it was then he was definitely weird.

It taken him a long time to get enough fur to make this even remotely comfortable and believable. Part of him still didn't want to believe that this entire coat had just... come off of him. He knew he shed a lot.

But never this much.

That being said, he had hoped that you wouldn't put the pieces together and call him out on it. He had to painstakingly pick up piece of piece of fur and stick them together into bundles before sewing them into a softened leather that was malleable enough to drape comfortably over your shoulders.

Twilight had taken months to get this to be even remotely proportional to his own pelt. He had noticed that you kept wanting to touch his own and had even stolen it on occasion.

His pelt serves him a very specific purpose, so while he would gladly be willing to share, it would be better off for the both of you if you had your own.

If this idea worked, anyway.

He approaches you quietly, when no one else is awake. He wasn't about to make a fool out of himself when there are others who would gladly hold it over his head of the rest of the known universe.

"Here." He drops it onto your lap unceremoniously. "It going to get clod later. You'll need it."

You gasp and lift it carefully. "Where did you get this?"

"I made it." Twilight feels his cheek warm up slightly. He prays that you blame the fire. "I can't give you my pelt all the time as much as I'd like to. I thought this would be a fairer compromise."

"I thought you hated hunting." You say softly and open the fur pelt to see it in full.

"It's not that I hate hunting." Twilight mutters. At least you're not assuming that Wolfie has anything to do with this. "I just don't see the need to over hunt when we have enough food....I got the fur from a hunt I joined the Champion on a while ago. He got the meat while I handled the rest of it."

You smile and finally look back to him. "I didn't even notice."

And he will thank his lucky starts every day for that.

He smirks. "It wouldn't be much of a surprise if you knew about it, now would it?"

You giggle and move the pelt to drape it over your shoulders. "No. I guess not."

Twilight reaches over and adjusts it a little bit. It's exactly as he envisioned it. "Perfect."

"Thank you, Link."

His heart skips a beat. "You're welcome."

[miajooz]

Forfeiture Bleeds ❦

overview ❦ - After that whole encounter with Abby, Ellie was left with an overbearing amount of trauma and an instability that you thought was manageable. After Tommy visited and told Ellie the current whereabouts of Abby, you found Ellie trying to sneak off at night. You couldn’t just let the love of your life go by herself. So, you went with her. To Ellie’s dismay, the loss she was left with was unimaginable. Was it worth it?

warnings ❦ - swearing, blood/injury, PTSD, angst + fluff, sensitive topics for people who may be grieving, scenes from the game

wc ❦- 12.7k ( oouu.. )

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Life after Seattle was going surprisingly well, or so you thought. You and Ellie lived in a farmhouse together just like you fantasized about, this was your dream. The feeling of waking up next to her every morning, or seeing her work so hard outside made you feel so fuzzy inside. The way she would wrap her arms around you from behind while you did a task, or the way she’d kiss at your neck made it almost seem like everything that happened was worth it.

As if everything you went through during that trip was just leading to this kind of life, this life where everything seemed so stable and peaceful. It felt as if nothing could ever go wrong, what could?

Ellie had a way of running your brain, this whole life and your way of living revolved around her. You wanted to be with her, the thought of her suddenly disappearing frightened you to your core — it was too much to think about. In a way, you did everything you could to make sure Ellie was as comfortable as possible, maybe you just tried to make her feel so damn loved she couldn’t even fathom going after Abby again and leaving you. No, that wasn’t possible — not after everything you had done.

At the start, things were going decent. It was a blessing waking up with Ellie like that every morning, it was a type of fulfillment you didn’t know you needed in your dull but also chaotic life. A type of fulfillment that made you crave more — it bloomed flowers into your brain with a hypnotic pollen that made you want more of this.

More of this picture perfect life where there were no infected trying to tear you apart, there were no armed people trying to shoot you or Ellie. It was just a house in the middle of nowhere, but it was comfortable. You wanted nothing more than to live happily like this, and you knew Ellie wanted to be happy too.

Yet, as much as you prayed for things to stay good, that was impossible in a situation like this. If you even looked past your fantasies for a moment, you could see what disaster every single moment in that godforsaken town in Washington had caused. The absolute shit show that single moment in that theatre caused. No, this life wasn’t flawless at all, that was a lie not even the devil himself could make pretty.

It was going so well, but that’s when the PTSD attacks happened.

Loud noises, screaming, bloody noses, nightmares, memories, flashbacks — the list went on and on. Ellie was triggered by various things, it sent her into a spiral. You’d be in the kitchen chopping a tomato, when a blood curdling scream from the bedroom sent a shiver down your spine. It was the type of horrified scream that echoed off the walls, that told a story of its own. When you’d bolt up the stairs to see what happened — it was Ellie, again.

She’d be curled up on the floor, screaming and crying. It was as if all the air was squeezed out of her lungs with every pained scream. Like her lungs were desperately squeezing out and trying to get rid of that dark, grieving, feeling in her chest that weighed on her. She could feel that dreadful feeling oozing from her pores, no matter how much she tried to forget. It was like a thorn in her brain, it was all she could do but forget.

Whenever this happened, all you could do was hold her and try not to cry yourself. Seeing the love of your life, the woman you’d risk everything for cry like this made your heart twist. Whenever she’d scream like that, you felt so useless, because all you could do was hold her. You’d let her cry, and cry — all you could do was pray she’d get better. Every sob, every scream, every single breakdown was like a knife twisting in your chest. Soon enough, you felt that dark feeling too.

Despite the breakdowns, there were good days. There were days where you’d hold her in a way that felt more genuine, maybe because it was out of sheer love and not purely comfort. Sure, this was comforting — but this was a reassurance that helped you realize how things could be. It fed your delusions, for sure. She’d hold you so tight and let you rest your head on her chest, her body felt so warm against yours. That warmth was healing, but unfortunately the healing was one sided.

The way she kissed the top of your head so tenderly made you want to contort yourself into a ball of light; maybe a light that could cure that ache in her heart. Maybe, just maybe, if you could cure that portion of her, she’d have more room in her heart to love you.

The dread you felt when Tommy visited that day was unimaginable. It felt like everything you did, all the patches on your wounded way of life were just viciously torn off. Everything you did to try and heal her, all the comfort you built around this so called ‘recovering,’ crumbled before your very eyes.

But Tommy wasn’t to blame, he was also grieving. That didn’t help you or Ellie, though, it was like in that moment the grief they both felt made them feed off each other. Almost like a dark, heart sunken cloud just morphing together to create something bigger — something you couldn’t possibly fix this time.

The look on Ellie’s face made that stabbing feeling in your heart all the more pronounced. Her eyes were the window to her soul — it was as if her soul curdled like spoiled milk. Like a claw was latching onto her heart and squeezing the healed parts of it out.

The feeling of the room was a suffocating gloominess. When it fell silent, it gave too much time to think. You knew things were going to go South, the moment you saw that glaze over Ellie’s eyes — you knew.

You knew that very night, she’d try and run off and find Abby again. You knew she’d try and abandon you, you knew it. It wasn’t a big surprise when you felt the sheets rustle late at night, the weight of the bed shifting when Ellie abandoned it.

You knew exactly what her plan was, but you knew you couldn’t stop her. Life would never be what the two of you wanted if this issue wasn’t resolved. But maybe it was bound to be doomed from the beginning. Both your lives ended the moment you stepped out of Jackson.

“Wait, wait. Ellie, please wait.” your voice cut through the silence and stillness of the house, you could physically see her shoulders tense.

Ellie turned slowly, her eyes locking on her worried looking girlfriend. Her eyes told so much, she looked so guilty, but so hurt.

“Please come back to bed, we can talk about this later when you’ve slept.” you urged, immediately walking up to her to grab her hand. The look in your eyes was so desperate, hers was too — but for different reasons.

“I have to finish it. I can’t sleep, or eat. It’s hard to live like this when I know she’s out there.” she replied, her tone was so solemn it made you want to cry; you almost did.

“You’re not being rational, you’re gonna get yourself killed.” you tried to reason “Please think this through, please just listen to me this once.” you added, squeezing her hand tightly. To your surprise, she squeezed it back.

Ellie’s face softened, she had that same look on her face she did when Tommy visited “I love you, you know that, right?” she reassured you, but it wasn’t very effective.

You stared at the love of your life like she’d just committed crime, like she just told you news that was unforgettable — to you, it was. You couldn’t help but get a bit desperate when you saw you weren’t getting through to her. That stubborn mind of hers was so impossible. “I love you too, that’s why I can’t let you go out there and kill yourself!”

Ellie squeezed your hand tightly, you almost believed she wouldn’t let go. Her eyebrows were furrowed softly, usually a trait you’d find attractive, but now it just hurt. “I don’t plan on dying, I promise I’ll come back.” she tried to reassure you again.

“Nobody plans on dying, Ellie! What good are promises when you have a gun to your head?! You can’t tell the person with a gun to your skull that you promised your girlfriend you’d come home, it doesn’t work like that!” you argued, you didn’t want to yell but it was inevitable, but so were the tears that threatened to spill out.

You ran one hand through your hair, taking a shaky breath to calm your racing heart. Your expression shifted to a much more firm one, most likely trying to remind yourself to be stable here. “Do you think I’m just gonna wait here and pray you’ll come back? I’m not doing that.” The frown on Ellie’s face immediately deepened when you spoke.

“I’m coming with you.” silence. Dead, silence. It was a silence that lasted only a few seconds, but felt like an eternity. Like anxiously waiting for somebody to text you back, watching your phone like it can give you any reassurance for your worrying mind.

“What?” Ellie replied, a response that sounded like it was forced out of her lungs.

“I said I’m coming with you.” You repeated, almost immediately seeing her get a bit nervous. Last time was unsuccessful, Jesse was killed and Tommy suffered a head injury. You were almost killed too, that memory haunted her. The most torturous part about it was that she blamed herself. If she never let you go with her the first time, none of that would’ve happened to you.

Despite how Ellie felt about this, she knew she couldn’t control your actions — and she didn’t want to. There was no way to prevent you from tagging along, but part of her wanted you to come, maybe for the sake of her sanity.

She covered it up as love, it WAS love for sure. Yet the fear of just being left all alone was even scarier and overwrote it sometimes. What if she came back after finishing Abby, only to find you on the floor, dead? Dead, lifeless on the floor. Knowing that she could’ve prevented it if she was just there, if she just put you over this deep rooted craving for revenge. But it wasn’t that simple, you knew that — she knew that you knew that. Except sometimes even if you’re there, you can’t do anything to protect your loved ones, Ellie learned that the hard way.

Maybe that’s what made Ellie’s love for you so deep, she knew you understood her. The way she saw you try so hard to fix it just broke her heart. The way you tried to help her, even if she felt she was helpless. Even when she felt like she didn’t deserve to live for being the one to make it out, you made her feel like her life meant something.

Ellie had the belief that since that cure was never made, her life didn’t mean anything. That thought was so strong, but when she saw the way you looked at her, she doubted herself a bit. When she saw the way you smiled at her, when you would tell her you loved her, when you held her as she cried — it made her think that maybe, just maybe, her life meant something. It meant something to somebody, that was a thought that kept her going.

This love ran so much deeper than either of you could comprehend, Ellie would take a bullet for you without hesitation, and you’d do the same.

“Are you sure?” she asked, she didn’t want to drag you along on something you’d regret—somewhere you could get injured.

You nodded, there was no way you could let Ellie go by herself. Even if something happened to her, waiting for her to come back with no knowledge of what happened to her was far more torturous. You couldn’t sit around and wait for god knows how long for her to return.

“..It’s your choice.” she finally said, it sounded a bit more cold than she had intended, but you knew she meant well. Ellie ran her hand through her short hair, still a bit messy from tossing and turning in bed.

You simply nodded, looking at her with slightly dipped eyebrows. “I’m gonna go pack a bag, can you wait for me, baby?” you requested softly, squeezing her hand again and looking at her with a tender expression, an expression you could only let her see.

Ellie’s face softened, she couldn’t resist you — she was lovesick despite the situation. She nodded, squeezing your hand back with the same strength before letting go. “Of course, pack everything you need, yeah?”

You could help but offer her a small smile. With a simple nod, you were approaching the staircase with the intention to pack a bag. You didn’t know how long this would take, though you hoped it was quick so when you came back, things would be fixed. That was a delusion of yours, that if she killed Abby — she’d be healed.

Deep down you knew that was bullshit, grief wasn’t something anyone can just skip. Grief wasn’t something that could just be settled with revenge, at the end of the day, they’re still gone. Avenging them doesn’t bring them back, even if it can feel satisfying for a moment. But when that high is over, you’re left with so much blood on your hands, and the reality that nothing you do will bring them back. Nothing you do will erase what you could’ve done to prevent it, or maybe what you could’ve done to heal better.

Grief is a lingering feeling in your chest that doesn’t go away, a crater in your mind that gets triggered from reminders of your loved ones’ existence. A curse that causes you to push people away, or even indulge in self destructive behavior for everyone around you to watch. And the worst part is, you have to watch yourself do it too. Because no matter how much you try and stop it, it only gets worse. Maybe that’s why healing is so difficult, because it gets worse before it gets better. Maybe because even if your healed, you still think about it.

This was a concept Ellie couldn’t grasp, but how could she? In the depths of her mind where all she could think about was the thirst for revenge, or how she could’ve done something to save Joel if she wasn’t so fucking weak — there was no room for logic. There was no room for reasoning, no thought that exercised the idea that maybe just this once, she had to let it go and learn how to live. No, to her, that wasn’t logical.

While you packed your bag, you thought of all the ways this could turn out. All the ways that you could die, or she could die, or maybe how you both could die. Somehow in the back of your mind you knew something was going to go wrong. Like a screaming in your heart, in your chest, in your brain that said: ‘don’t do it. stay. stay home.’

You packed the essentials, bandages, weapons. tools, ammo, food, ointment, everything you could fit in there. The idea that it was probably unwise to leave with shorts on and a long sleeve hit you, so you quickly changed. You slipped on a tank top, some baggy jeans, and boots. Santa Barbara was hot — or so you’ve been told. You couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing one of Ellie’s flannels for comfort. Surely you’d get cold on the way there anyways.

With that, you left the bedroom and descended down the stairs, your boots snitching on you. Ellie was still standing there, leaning against the counter and waiting for you. When she heard your loud steps coming down the stairs, she looked up — and saw you in her flannel; of course.

That pulled her out of her negative thoughts, she was mainly thinking about how if anything happened to you, it’d be her fault again. But when Ellie saw you in her flannel, all she could think about was how much she adored you.

“Is that mine?” Ellie questioned, what an obvious question. She had that almost lopsided smirk on her face that you loved so much. God—she was such a fucking dork. But you loved her.

You quickly approached her, her flannel on your body and your bag slung over shoulders. There was also a small smile on your face, you looked at her like she was a work of art. To you, she was. “Yeah, it’s yours.” you replied, even if it was a stupid question.

“You’re too cute.” she laughed, looking you up and down. You were so perfect to her, nobody else on the planet could compare. In her eyes you were absolutely unbeatable. All you could do was smile at her, praising yourself for wearing her flannel.

Ellie remembered that they had a job to do—an important one, and cleared her throat. She nodded towards the door, still unable to take her eyes off you. “C’mon, try and keep up, yeah?”

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This whole trip was making you regret every life choice you ever made. Santa Barbara was on the coast of California, which wasn’t exactly close to where you started in Wyoming. It was hot as hell outside, you suffered from a heatstroke more times than you could count. You could see how worried Ellie would get when you got sick like that. Most of the times when she wasn’t busy memorizing a map, she’d hold you and press a rag drenched in cold seawater to your head.

Seasickness was also a problem, when the waves were a bad you’d be hunched over the edge of the boat, puking. Ellie would occasionally come and hold your hair up or rub your back, but usually she’d be trying to make sure the damn boat didn’t crash.

Some days you were just stuck on the calm-ish water, those were your favorite days. You could see how focused Ellie was, but even then she couldn’t resist you. You’d hold each other, make out, talk, laugh together — just like you did at home. Except this wasn’t home, and no amount of affection could fulfill that ache for comfort. That ache to he in the safety of your home where things felt even a little okay.

Nonetheless, you ended up on some sailboat that you helped Ellie steal. You were both in the cabin of the boat, Ellie was looking over some maps and such to find exactly where Abby could’ve gone. You were standing beside her, listening to her talk and looking at the places she was pointing to.

“Oh yeah, That’s gotta be it.” Ellie turned her head to look at you, she looked tired but determined. She folded up the map and let you assist her by putting it back in her bag. You made sure she had her bow and guns in there as well. After two months, you were finally in Santa Barbara. Those two months were very eventful, from almost losing an arm to almost falling off the boat while kissing.

That’s something you’d be embarrassed about forever.

After you put the maps and other papers away, you put a gentle hand on her bicep, her attention was immediately drawn to you again. The cabin wasn’t the brightest, so you couldn’t exactly see all her features yet. “Okay, let’s go then.” you suggested, letting her take the lead.

Ellie hopped off the boat and immediately turned around to help you, grabbing your hands so when you jumped down, there was no way you could get hurt or fall. “Careful.” she directed, maybe she just liked taking care of you. It was reassuring when she was able to help you, it made her believe she was capable of protecting you.

You could see how sunburnt her face was, you felt worried but it was also cute. A smile crept onto your face when you jumped down, holding her hands tightly. You didn’t exactly need the help, but you knew she liked to make sure you were taken care of.

“Thanks, baby.” you coaxed, raising your hand a bit to cup her cheek. “You’re so helpful.” you traced your thumbs over the sunburns and freckles that adorned her face.

“You look like a lobster.” you teased, even though you were also sunburnt — maybe even more than she was.

Ellie laughed in response, her rough calloused hands pressing on a sunburn that reddened your cheek. You hissed in response, trying to squirm away from her arms. “Yeah, call me a lobster again and see what happens.” she released her hand on your cheek and laughed at you.

She looked at you tenderly, you were keeping her sane this whole trip. It was helpful to be reminded that when she finished this, she’d get to go home with the woman she loved.

Ellie grabbed your hand softly and traced her thumb over the back of it, as if she was tracing shapes into your veins. Compared to all the horrid shit she did in her life, this gesture made it seem like she wasn’t capable of hurting anybody. To you, Ellie was perfect, flaws and all. She could see how red your cheek was from the sunburn and felt slightly bad. “Sorry, sweetheart. C’mon.” she offered, letting go of your hand and starting to walk up the beach.

Unfortunately it was only hotter on land, you soon missed the cool air the ocean brought you. You weren’t surrounded by water to rub on your burning skin, you prayed the shade would save you from heatstrokes. But of course, the shade wasn’t as helpful as you hoped it would be, you found yourself dragging your feet to keep up with Ellie. You felt so nauseous all the time, fatigue often making you collapse.

This moment in particular, you were walking in front so Ellie could put all the ammo and supplies you found in a house into her bag. You were chatting with her about some places you thought might be safe from patrolling on your own time. Ellie hummed along with everything you said, her attention slightly divided.

“I think South is the best option. I saw a shit ton of infected any other way. We gotta save supplies, y���know?” you suggested, listening to her zip up her backpack and nod along. Eventually her attention was back on you, still letting you walk in front. Even if she didn’t exactly love the idea of you walking in front, she trusted you.

“Are you feeling okay today, babe? Are you sure you’re able to walk after puking so much yesterday?” Ellie asked, she was concerned by how sick you got from the heat.

Yesterday was probably the hottest, that was the most heat you’d ever felt. You were puking for hours, you didn’t know if your body was overworked or if you ate something bad. Ellie tried everything to cool you off, even going as far as to walk 2 hours to find a decent body of water, just so she could bring something to cool you down.

While your body was weak, you couldn’t let her go by herself. You’d push through, if you could still walk—you’d go. That was your mindset. “Yeah, I’m okay. You should’ve brought me an umbrella and held it over my head for shade. I thought you loved me, what’s that about?.” you joked, trying to ease her worries.

Ellie’s lips curled into a smile and she scoffed. “An umbrella? You’re ridiculous. And I do love you, I literally gave you my granola bar.” she replied in mock offense, her stomach nearly growling at the thought. Ugh..food.

You clicked your tongue once and turned to look at her, an amused smile on your face, “You literally don’t even like granola bars. I traded you an expired piece of candy!” you argued.

Ellie shook her head and sighed, “Doesn’t matter what I like, who am I to waste food? And yeah, that candy tasted like fucking feet.” she added, still smiling at you. In moments like these, she could almost forget what she was here to do. Forgetting that she was getting revenge, forgetting that she was hunting someone down.

She prayed with every fiber of her being that she’d be able to bring you home safely after all of this. That way she could fix things and be a girlfriend you deserved. She would take such good care of you, you’d never have to worry about anything again.

It was ironic how similar you two were in that way, you both just wanted to take care of each other. Ellie didn’t want you to worry, and you didn’t want Ellie to have to suffer anymore.

Despite the dark truth of this trip, you still managed to have good moments. Moments like these were even though you were on your death bed the day before, it was okay now. It was okay now because you were with Ellie.

“How do you know what feet tastes like, huh? Are you seeing Santa Barbara girls?” you questioned sarcastically, you couldn’t help but laugh at your own comment as you continued looking at her. You loved bantering with her like this, it also made you forget. It made you forget of the shit you both went through to get here — the shit Ellie had to think about daily.

Ellie grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to her, wrapping a careful arm around your waist. You immediately stopped walking, looking at her with enamored expression. “Santa Barbara girls? How about I kiss that smartass mouth of yours shut?” she suggested, still smirking at you. “Do you want me to do that?”

You smiled at her, so badly wanting to be kissed. Naturally, you leaned in closer to her to fill the gap between you both. You kissed her softly, her arms tightened around your waist. What a scene, making out in the middle nowhere like you were in the comfort of your own home. Unfortunately, you weren’t. You managed to peel yourself away from the addicting act that was kissing Ellie, your lips slightly red now.

“You smell like shit, I hope you’re aware of that.” you said jokingly — but neither of you smelt exactly nice. It was extremely hot out, that was never a good mix with the reality of no deodorant or showers. Blood from infected, sweat, natural body odor, gun powder, leaves, dirt, you both reeked of all that fun stuff. But in your eyes, she was just as attractive.

Ellie raised an eyebrow at you, holding you close to her. “That’s right, how would I get Santa Barbara girls if I smelt like this?” she questioned, pulling you closer and kissing your neck softly — something she found herself doing often.

You put a hand on the back of her head, her short hair exposing how bad she was sweating. But you didn’t give a shit about the smell, to you she was still hot. “Yeah, that’s true. I must really love you to put up with this.” you joked, pulling her head up so you could kiss the corner of her mouth.

Ellie’s eyes were so soft and tender, you wished you could look at them all the time. The way they softened at the smallest things, her eyes really were the window to her soul — the soul you loved with everything you had.

“The feeling is mutual, sweetheart. Keep walking so we can find some shade, yeah?” she insisted in a low, raspy tone. You were smitten, she always knew what to do to make you squirm. She loosened her grip on your waist and let you step back.

You stepped back and immediately started walking again, walking backwards at first. “Okay, South we go.” you said with a smile on your face, turning around to walk forwards again. Ellie was right behind you, admiring the way you walked — maybe just admiring you as a whole.

Good moments always ended too fast. In a world like this, good moments were distractions that kept you sane. They were helpful reminders that you were still human, and that it was okay to have fun with your partner even if this was something important.

For those brief moments, Ellie didn’t have any room in her brain to think about Abby. All she could think about was the way you smiled at her, the way you seemed to melt whenever she touched you. When she got you home, she promised herself she’d be a better girlfriend. She’d never make you worry again, she’d take care of you like she wanted to. She’d give all her attention to you, her whole heart would be dedicated to loving you—as if she could fall any harder.

Of course your luck couldn’t last to long, something unfortunate had to happen. You were walking by the side of a house, squeezing between a car and wooden fence. You paused and looked at her while wedged in between the two structures. “Wait a moment, I’ll go first. You go right, I go left.” you instructed, “Just to scout, you know?” even though she hated the idea of you going first, she agreed. She wanted to pull you out of that position and go instead.

Ellie bit her cheek and released it with a small suction sound. “Sure, right behind you.” she assured you, waiting for you to move again. she was listening closely, most likely for the sound of anyone passing by.

Somehow you managed to step over the first trap, but it didn’t save you from the second one. You stepped into a rope, it immediately tightened around your foot and hoisted you into the air. You were swinging side to side when you smacked into one of the trees. You were hit in the head, you could immediately feel the impact of it and your ears start to ring. Your head started to bleed, the headache was overwhelming.

Ellie immediately panicked, she could see the dead bodies hanging beside you—one captive being a clicker. As soon as she saw the injury on your head, her heart dropped to her stomach. The memories of Seattle were flooding into her brain, it was a suffocating feeling. Eventually she managed to pull herself together, purely because she needed to help you.

“Shit! Hold on, hold on. I’m coming!” Ellie hollered, “Hang on, baby, hang on!” She immediately started to move between the fence and the car, her heart racing as she tried to get to you. Through your doubled vision, you could see another rope on the ground — one in which Ellie wasn’t watching for.

“Ellie, wait—!” Before you could even finish your thought, Ellie stepped into the trap. She was hoisted up into the air as well, almost hitting you as she swung. But Ellie swung the opposite way, towards a different tree. She was swung into a sharp edged branch that stuck out from the base of the tree. You watched as it stabbed into her side, your breath hitching when you heard her scream.

“ELLIE! Oh, shit! SHIT!” you screamed, you could already feel tears swelling your dry eyes. Your head hurt so bad, the blood was leaking down your forehead and getting in your hair. The branch was coated with a thin layer of her blood, you were sure she would be dead. You were horrified, only able to cry as you watched her squirm around and fumble for her knife.

Ellie was groaning and writhing, the side of her tanktop immediately soaking with blood. She fumbled with her knife, but ended up dropping it on the dirt below her, out of reach. “no, no no..fuck!” she managed to groan out, immediately clutching her wound as her chest heaved.

Her other hand reached out for you, you were crying. Your head was still bleeding, but her wound was definitely far worse. Seeing you cry made Ellie want to cry, all those good feelings from earlier just vanished — all that hope going with it.

Hope was a dangerous thing, it kept you going even when things were hopeless. But sometimes hopelessness was more dangerous, especially in situations like these where you were at the mercy of whoever set this trap, or happened to walk by. Infected, a kind person, the creator of this trap, it was out of your control.

You tried so hard to reach for Ellie’s hand, you were sobbing and she was too. It was pathetic how you were trying to reach each other. A sob was lodged in your throat, your breath coming out in short gasps. “Ellie, Ellie, are you okay? You can hear me right? It’s okay, we’ll get out of here. I promise!”

Ellie on the other hand was panting, her face scrunched up in pain as her side bled through her tanktop more and more. The futility she felt was overwhelming, she was in so much pain but seeing you like this hurt more somehow. “Your head, is your head okay?” she asked worriedly, watching you to make sure you didn’t randomly die on her or something.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, Ellie.” you managed, immediately feeling the weight of the blame. You couldn’t even answer her question, your head was definitely not okay.

Ellie was panicking, she hated it when things were out of control. She hated feeling so helpless, so useless as all she could do was watch. “No, no, don’t be sorry. Come on, is your head okay?”

Oh, classic Ellie. The classic Ellie that always worried about you first. She was stabbed by a damn spike and she was fussing over your head injury. You couldn’t help but start to feel dizzy, the blood loss in your head was making you feel lightheaded and confused. Ellie was trying to talk to you, but your ears just rung.

Eventually your eyes rolled back into your head, and your arm fell limp, dangling in the air. You had fallen unconscious, a sight that horrified Ellie. She immediately tried to reach for you again, breathing so hard she thought she’d hyperventilate. It was a taste of what she felt when Joel was killed in front of her. Seeing somebody look so helpless and injured, while all she could do was just watch.

The blood on your head immediately reminded her of Joel — she could see the parallels. For a moment, she saw him. It reminded her of why she was here, why she was doing all of this. Whoever set this trap would be killed, no doubt about that. She was hyperventilating now, she was having a PTSD attack with nobody to hold her. The person who held her was dangling in front of her, bleeding. It wasn’t long before the blood loss on her part and hyperventilating got to her. When it did, she passed out too.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It was awhile before you woke up, the dehydration, heat, head injury, and exhaustion all built up. That rest was needed, you could barely sleep since that whole trip started. You’d stay up for hours just tossing and turning. Ellie completely occupied your thoughts, she occupied them until there was nothing left.

When you woke up, you weren’t dangling upside down anymore, no, you were on the floor. You were propped up a bit in somebody’s arms, they were trying to shake you awake frantically. When your eyes fluttered open, everything was blurry. After blinking a few times to adjust your eyesight, you saw who was holding you. Ellie, of course it was Ellie. “C’mon, baby. Wake up, please wake up.” she muttered, her voice cracked a bit in worry.

Ellie was trying to shake you awake, afraid that she’d have to carry you. She wasn’t able to do that, she could hardly keep herself up. There were two dead men on the floor near you, Ellie had a gun next to her. Even in your confused state, you knew what happened

She killed both of them, especially when she saw that man cut you down after checking her pulse. Acting unaffected was so hard when she was sure something would happen to you.

As soon as you opened your eyes, Ellie’s widened. She let out a heavy sigh of relief, pushing the strands of hair that stuck to your injured head out of the way. You immediately groaned, trying to recall everything with a pounding headache. Were you concussed? You couldn’t help but assume.

As soon as you groaned, Ellie rubbed thumb on your cheek softly, her other hand squeezing yours. “Shh, shh, you’re okay.” she comforted, not wanting you to freak out. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you, okay? I’d never let anybody hurt you.” she coaxed, but it was almost like a reassurance to herself.

There was a hopeless tone to Ellie’s voice, the way it cracked was so vulnerable. Like she was afraid, and you knew she was. That scared her, she thought there was a possibility she’d lose you. She couldn’t lose you, she couldn’t be left alone.

You could tell she must’ve had a PTSD attack, you just felt guilty for not being able to hold her. You weakly reached your hand up to cup her cheek, trying to reassure her that you were alive and — well — slightly well. “It’s fine, Ellie. Calm down, I’m okay.” you whispered groaning as you sat up a bit and the sun hit your eyes, causing a pain to shoot through your skull. The lights were an absolute nightmare for your head, that was a kind of pain you weren’t ready for. “And..how’re you doing”

“Fine.” a slightly cold response, far too casual to hold any truth.

You hadn’t remembered she was stabbed by a tree branch, you didn’t remember much before passing out. Not until you noticed how much blood was on the side of her body, it was all over her face, neck, chest — everywhere. Your eyes instinctively widened, trailing down to her side.

That’s when you remembered, you watched that tree branch stab her side. You watched the way she fumbled for her knife and groaned, you saw her crying as she tried to reach you. The blood on the branch, the blood on her clothes. All you could think about was that tree branch stabbing her. The memory played in your mind over and over again until your aching head couldn’t handle it anymore.

She was hurt, and here she was, taking care of you. In your mind, your own injury didn’t matter. What the hell were you doing? You tagged along to help her and yet you got her hurt. It was your idea to go south, it was your fault for getting caught in a trap. Somehow, you were both upset with yourselves.

“Let me see.” you demanded, sitting up fully now and eyeing her bloody tanktop. You were eyeing the source, you knew it was bad.

Ellie frowned a bit, she hated worrying you. That was a suffocating feeling, since she was painfully aware of the fact she always worried you. But she knew it’d just be worse if she didn’t show you, the last thing she wanted was a useless argument. “Can we go back into that house? Let’s go patch up, yeah?” she urged softly, squeezing your hand tighter.

You were reluctant, but you knew that’d be the safest option. With wobbly legs and an aching head, you stood up. The sun beaming on your face was agonizing, your head was pounding as the sun flashed in your eyes. But you sucked it up, for Ellie’s sake. You gently grabbed her hands, ready to pull her up.

“I’m gonna pull you up, I’ll try and be gentle, I promise.” you said softly, gripping her hands tighter. She could see the pain on your face, and you could see the pain on hers. As carefully as you could, you hoisted her up.

Ellie immediately groaned, the feeling of her muscles flexing was absolute hell. “Shit..” she mumbled through clenched teeth. Once she was standing, you immediately wrapped your arm around her to hold her up. Without warning you started walking, you wanted to patch her up before she bled out in front of you.

Every step was agony for Ellie, she was groaning, unable to help herself from hunching over pain. It felt like her insides were scorching, like there was a clawed animal in her side, stuck in her organs and trying to claw its way out. She was sure she shouldn’t be alive, but she miraculously survived.

Eventually the two of you made it back to the abandoned house, it took forever even if it wasn’t even fifty feet away. The dusty couch across the room never looked more comfortable, you hadn’t realized how much you missed comfortable surfaces until being pulled away from them in an injured, sick, state.

You gently helped Ellie onto the couch, trying to make it as painless as possible. But the pain was unavoidable with an injury like this. Breathing was agonizing, simply existing was hell on earth. As you sat Ellie down, you tried to run your fingers through her hair comfortingly, wincing at the blood on your fingers.

Her breathes were coming out in shallow gasps, though your tender gesture seemed to soothe her a bit. You kneeled in front of her, looking in your bag for anything that could be useful. You knew you picked up medical supplies in this very house, but what if it was no use? Your fingers were trembling badly as you fumbled through your bag, your head throbbing to a degree you didn’t know was possible. If it wasn’t for your sheer need to help your girlfriend, you’d be rendered immobile by now.

The rate at which you were finding things wasn’t satisfying you, so you dumped your entire bag out onto the floor. Immediately, you spotted the red box with a white plus on it. Oh, thank god, a med kit. You immediately opened it, grabbing out some gauze and antiseptic. You were trembling, you had patched up Ellie before but she was never this injured. What if you hurt her even more? What if you slipped up and killed her? All these irrational thoughts flooded your mind, causing your head to ache and almost unbearable amount.

You dropped your gauze on the floor and groaned, clutching your head like that would fix it. There was something so torturous about headaches. Headaches lasted so long, and they rendered you stupid. It was like no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t preform well. How the hell were you gonna patch her up when you could hardly see?

Ellie immediately noticed your discomfort, she reached for the hand that was clutching your head, trying to keep it away from the wound. It was pathetic the way you both tried to take care of each other. “It’s okay, babe. After this, we can rest.” she assured you.

She was reluctant to say this, because she was dying to find Abby. One of the men she killed had given her Abby’s whereabouts, she knew where she was. She was being held in some sort of prison or something — it was all fuzzy. Ellie needed to find Abby, that was screaming in her head as this whole thing happened. But there was another thought in her head that wasn’t screaming at her. It was urging her, reminding her that you were the most important thing in her life. Not Abby.

Before this whole event, she was putting the task of finding Abby first, instead of her girlfriend. But why was she throwing somebody who was still here aside? You were her whole life, somebody that made her feel like she mattered — and yet, she wasn’t putting you first. But after seeing you get injured again because of a trip sue wanted to go on, something in that stubborn head of hers just clicked.

That sudden guilt hit her like a bus, she was immediately overwhelmed. She promised herself she’d be a better girlfriend, she promised. She’d never let you get hurt again, never.

You looked at her with a worried expression, squeezing her hand. You had a job to do—right— focus. The look on your face was soft, soft and worried as you held her hand. “Can you show me now? I can’t help you if I don’t see it.” you murmured, your voice slightly shaky even though you tried to be soothing.

Ellie bit her cheek, looking down at you with a conflicted expression. Reluctantly, she grabbed the hem of her tanktop and pulled it slightly upward. You immediately saw the wound — it was bad. There was blood all over the side of her body, the source was the gash was like hole in her side. It looked deep, it was a wonder she was even conscious.

As soon as you saw it, you felt sick. A type of sick that was a mixture of guilt, worry, and something else you couldn’t describe. Your hand immediately cupped your mouth, it felt like there was a metal plate on your lungs. The type of weight that threatened to swallow you whole, to consume you completely. The weight in your chest was like a vice, it was too much. A sob was lodged deep in your throat, but it eventually crawled out.

Sobs immediately spilled out of you, you felt so guilty. It was your fault she was injured, and yet— she was injured more than you were. Your hands immediately fell from hers resting on her thighs as you lowered your head. You couldn’t even look at her, the pained expression she wore made you want to disappear.

“I’m—I’m so, so fucking sorry. I’m so sorry, Ellie. This is all my fault, I shouldn’t have went that way!” you managed to spew out, the words flowing out of you like an uncontrollable river of guilt and self-blame. But you couldn’t stop, the pain in your head was pushing more tears out.

Ellie looked surprised, she didn’t understand why you were blaming yourself. She watched you cry, unsure what to do at first. You had never sobbed like that to her, not once. The fact it was because you felt guilty made her feel like a metal hand was squeezing her heart.

“I’m not trying to be liability, I’m so sorry! Please let me fix this, I promise I can be useful!” you were uncontrollably sobbing, the throbbing in your head was debilitating.

After that sentence, Ellie couldn’t let you keep speaking in such a self deprecating way, she didn’t even understand what the hell you were saying, she didn’t understand where you were getting the idea this was your fault.

“What’re you talking about? You think this is your fault?” she questioned, her voice stilling your sobs ever so slightly. Her voice was so soft, a stark contrast to the dread of your sobs.

You still couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, the guilt was too much. Seeing the pain and worry on her face would only make things worse. “It is my fault! I said that way was safe when it wasn’t! I’ll be useful again, I promise I can fix this!” you babbled, barely able to say coherent sentences from the combination of your head and distress. You didn’t even know what you were saying, you never spoke like that before. The injury to your head was making your brain act up, but it was still heartbreaking.

Ellie was finally able to act, breaking out of her brief state of shock. With a small sigh, she reached her non-soaked hand to your face and cupped your cheek. Your glossy eyes met hers, they looked sympathetic as they took in the sight of you crying like that.

“It’s not your fault, at all. Neither of us can predict where traps are.” she said softly, wiping the tears from your right eye with her thumb. “The people who set the traps are to blame, and they’re dead now.”

Oh, how comforting

“Let’s just get patched up, yeah?” she suggested, her voice was so raspy but soft at the same time. It was calming, a tone you wished you could hear more often. She continued to hold your cheek, letting your salty tears soak her dirty hand.

Your tears managed to still, despite the aching feeling in your head that pushed the idea that this was your fault. You decided to pull your head out of your ass and do something, at least try and help your girlfriend who was bleeding out on this dusty couch. Your eyes went back to Ellie’s injury, it looked excruciating. You could see how the muscles flexed and spasmed everytime she took a breath or moved slightly. It was a miracle she was alive, but even that reminder wasn’t reassuring you.

Without any further hesitation, you grabbed the med kit and dug around for a moment. You managed to find a needle and thread, luck was finally on your side — for now. You took the cap off the antiseptic, grabbing the gauze you put beside you before your little mental breakdown.

From your experiences, warning somebody before preforming something medical always made it hurt worse. When your brain is focus on the injury, it makes the pain much more intense. That being said, you looked at Ellie with a soft expression, gently caressing her skin. When you saw she looked slightly at ease, you poured some of the antiseptic on the wound and pressed on it with a gauze.

Ellie’s reaction was immediate, you had to hold her down as she groaned and writhed. “Jesus fucking Christ! You think you could’ve warned me, babe?..” she managed to say between pants and groans. It hurt like hell, she could see the way your eyebrows furrowed as you peeked over the gauze.

“No, no I could not.” you explained plainly — well..okay. That explanation was enough for her, she just sighed and clicked her tongue once.

You pulled the gauze away, observing all the blood that had transferred onto it. You needed to stitch this up, but it was going to be difficult since Ellie couldn’t stay still. The prospect of hurting her worse also made you hesitate, but it was this or possible death.

With care, you grabbed the needle and thread, your fingers were so shaky that threading the needle was extremely difficult. You felt like you were trying to build a car with no instructions. You were eventually able to thread the needle, afterwards drenching it in antiseptic and holding it firmly in your hand.

Ellie had a look of dread on her face, this was going to be absolute hell. Yet she knew this wasn’t avoidable, she’d have to suck it up and try her best not to kick you in the face. That did happened before — she still feels guilty, you could still feel that damn converse on your cheek.

“Do you want me to count down this time?” you asked, your free hand rubbing her leg comfortingly. You were trying your best to relax her, but that was proving to be difficult.

An amused scoff escaped Ellie’s throat, you frowned a bit in response because you were being serious. “Is the sky blue? Yes, I want a count down.” she said sarcastically, how did she manage to be so annoying even in serious situations? God, you loved her.

Your eyes narrowed and you sighed a bit. You couldn’t help but smile, even in the worst situations she was still the same Ellie you fell in love with. “Don’t be a brat, I quite literally have a needle I’m about to plunge into your side.”

Even under all that grief, all that anger and thirst for revenge — there was a piece she kept intact just for you, or so it seemed like it was for your sake. Even after everything, you still looked at her like she was the biggest blessing, like she was an angel who did no wrong. But no, Ellie definitely had flaws. She wasn’t flawless, the amount of people she killed was off the charts. Yet, that didn’t matter in your mind, because she was still just Ellie.

Ellie shook her head and laughed, the act made her wince and groan a bit. She instinctively reached for her side but you stopped her, placing her hand back by her other side. With the soaked needle in your hand, you looked away from her pained face and back to the wound. She was bracing herself for the pain, she felt her heartbeat race when you started to count down.

“Three..two..” At two, you poked the needle into the flesh of her wound. Ellie was immediately wracked by the pain inflicted as you poked the needle in, she bit back a cry.

“You said you were counting! You went at two, are you trying to torture me?” she managed to complain between groans and pants. She was clearly in a lot of pain, but she couldn’t be mad at you. The shouting hurt your head a bit, but you stayed silent.

You felt extremely guilty, mainly because you were the one inflicting pain on her. You paused for a moment so she could breathe, you didn’t want her to pass out or anything. “Sorry, sweetheart. You’ll be very aware this time, though.” you coaxed softly, trying to soothe her again. “I’m gonna start sewing you up, please don’t move too much. Or, you know..kick me.”

Ellie nearly scoffed when you brought that up. Dirty move. Before she could respond, you were sewing her up. You didn’t let her process for very long, you just wanted to get it over with.

After an agonizing few minutes filled with yelling, squirming, surprising no kicking, and a mess of blood everywhere — you successfully stitched up her wound. She was absolutely spent, taking so much pain at once is difficult, even for tough people like Ellie. The fact you poked the wrong places a few times didn’t help, but it was out of control when the pain in your head worsened and your vision doubled.

You just sat on the couch with Ellie, holding her. It was nice to be able to just hold each other again, you missed that affection. You had a small patch on your head, the throbbing was still present but you were able to ignore it — almost. You tapped Ellie’s arm to make sure she awake, that question was answered when she hummed in response.

“You doing okay?” you asked simply, rubbing her arm softly as you held her. You knew you wouldn’t get an honest answer, but it still reassured you when you heard her voice.

Ellie put her hand on yours, the one that was rubbing her arm. “I’m fine, we gotta move soon.” she insisted, she couldn’t help herself. Despite how bad the pain in her side was, the need to find Abby was stronger. It was so strong it almost numbed the pain, the excess adrenaline was exhausting.

With that, you were both back on track within a few hours. You stayed glued behind her, watching her back. It was safe to say you were much more cautious now, as if you’d get caught in another trap and Ellie would get stabbed on the other side while trying to save you.

It was almost too overwhelming, the rest period you got wasn’t very long. But you were grateful to still have Ellie with you, things could’ve turned out so much worse.

While walking through another abandoned part, you heard clicking. You and Ellie immediately froze and stopped walking, listening for any more. There didn’t seem to be any others besides the one clicker, or so you thought.

Ellie immediately reached for her gun, intending to shoot it with the assumption there was only one. Both of your senses were dulled, yours from a head injury and Ellie’s from blood loss. You watched as she aimed, firing a shot at the clicker and blowing its head off. The relief only lasted a moment, that was until you could hear screaming. Runners.

“God dammit!” Ellie cursed, immediately standing up and pulling you to your feet, even if it hurt. Her whole stance was wobbly, running would be nearly impossible. you reached for your gun and tried to shoot them all, she helped you. One by one, the infected fell to the floor, a splatter of blood erupting from the bullet wounds to their heads or chests.

There were about 4, so it was relatively easy. You let your guard down too fast, though. From the side you were tackled down by an infected. You hit the floor harshly, the air was sucked out of your lungs as you fought back.

Ellie snapped her head towards you, she looked horrified. Seeing the runner desperately trying to devour you made her act quickly. You let out a yelp of pain, but Ellie just assumed it was from your head or something. She grabbed the runner and slit its throat smoothly, tossing it to the side and immediately coming to your aid.

“Fuck..you okay? It didn’t bite you, right?” she asked worriedly examining your body for any bite marks.

That’s when she saw it. a bloody bite mark on the side of your arm. You both froze, a gasp lodged in your throats.

Ellie held your arm, her eyes were glued on the bite mark. She looked absolutely horrified, this couldn’t be happening, this was all too fast. It was too much to process, it could just be a puncture wound from hitting the ground, right?

The air was sucked out of her lungs, she held your arm delicately. The rest of the world was blurry, all other sounds were tuned out by a painful ringing in her ears. All the despair, all the helplessness she felt when Joel died was coming back. That soul sucking feeling that made her heart shred itself apart, that feeling that made her feel like her lungs were drowning in absolute futility.

After making it so far, a simple slip up in judgement fucked up every ounce of progress made. The progress both on this trip and in her own healing. It felt like her whole world was crashing down on her, like the weight in her lungs was getting even more unbearable. She held her breath, afraid that if she exhaled she’d be brought back into the reality of what happened. The reality that you were as good as dead, the reality that maybe she’d have to be the one to kill you.

You were in absolute shock, unable to even process what the hell was going on. The thought of you becoming one of those monsters or simply dying was too much to bear, it was petrifying. You weren’t supposed to die, you were supposed to bring Ellie home after all of this. You were supposed to live in peace, live in a way that could heal that aching, grieving part of her.

But how was that possible now? It’s not like anybody was just immune. No, only Ellie was immune. For the second time in her life, it felt like more of a curse than a gift.

“No, no. That’s not a bite mark, right? Baby, please tell me that’s not a bite mark.” her voice was cracking, her chest heaving in fear and dejection. She was distraught, the weight of it crushed her like a vice.

All that you could offer her was a soft sob, the realization hitting you like a brick. A silent scream was lodged in your throat, trying to crawl its way out but unable to from the pressure in your lungs. You felt sick, your body couldn’t handle this at all.

When Ellie didn’t get a response, the panic really settled in. Her breathes came out in short gasps as she held your arm like a delicate flower, a stark contrast to the truth of the moment.

The truth that she wouldn’t be taking you home, the truth that she wouldn’t be able to prove to you she could he the best girlfriend you would ever know. The truth that she’d be all alone, there’d be nobody to hold her when she had PTSD attacks. How could you? When the newfound cause of them would center you.

But what did that matter? What did that matter when she’d wake up alone? What did that matter when she’d have nobody to love? Nobody to make her feel like maybe her life mattered. What the hell was she supposed to do with herself? You were her whole world, absolutely everything to her.

If it was her way, she would swap places with you in a heartbeat.

“Baby, please say something. Come on, please just tell me it’s a just puncture wound.” she sputtered, her grip on you was much tighter now. Your eyes met, you both shared the same look. The look of terror, the look of silent acknowledgement and truth.

Before you could even mutter a reply, Ellie was on her feet. The pain in her side was so intense, but it was almost irrelevant. It was almost as if it didn’t exist, the way she pulled you to your feet mirrored that. She immediately started dragging you towards some sort of shelter, absolutely anything.

You let her drag you, still in shock. But the more it settled in, the more afraid you felt. You’d been in many life or death situations, but none in which you knew you’d die. You were so scared, you were scared to die. That thought started the tears, panicked sobs pouring out of you like a faucet.

Ellie led you to some sort of small house, a house in which looked abandoned. To her dismay, an infected was waiting. It screamed and tried to run at her, she immediately pulled her gun out and blew its head off.

“FUCK OFF!” She yelled, but her voice cracked and failed to hold any harshness. Her voice showed her despair, it showed how broken she was feeling. That’s when she started sobbing too, you were both hysterically crying as she used all her strength to drag you into the house.

She slammed the door behind the two of you, immediately falling to the floor and holding you tightly below her. Her chest was heaving, sobs taking over her whole body. You were in the same boat as her, wailing and desperately clawing at her arm.

“I’m so sorry!” you cried, hiccups occasionally making an appearance as you sobbed. You didn’t know what you were sorry for. Maybe you were sorry that you’d be piling even more grief onto Ellie. Maybe you were sorry for not being able to push the infected off of your weak body.

Ellie immediately shushed you, her hands trembling as she held you. “Shh, shh, no. This isn’t your fault. Why do you always apologize when it’s not your fault?” her question wasn’t a jab at you, she just didn’t understand how somebody so perfect could think they were so flawed.

“I don’t want to die, I was supposed to bring you home. Please do something, I’m so scared, I’m so scared, Ellie.” you said between gasps and sobs,

Those words felt like needles to her heart, as if she could sob any harder. She wanted to do something, she wanted to help you. But there was no way she could, there was no way she could save you this time. She felt so stupid for promising herself to keep you safe, she felt stupid for promising you that too.

She gently brought a hand up to your cheek, caressing your cheek with such tenderness it was torture. “I know, I know, baby. I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

Ellie wanted nothing more than to go home with you, she cursed herself for coming out here in the first place. If she wasn’t so hellbent on getting revenge, this never would’ve happened. You’d be in the comfort of your shared home, cuddled up in bed like usual. She’d wake up the next morning and admire the love of her life sleeping next to her.

But now all she regretted was those unconscious hours. Hours she couldn’t get back, hours she knew you didn’t have. She wished it was her, not you. You were so perfect to her, you were genuinely a good person. Yet even in the sense that good deeds are always returned, it doesn’t matter in an apocalyptic world. It’s not like infected are capable of registering good deeds, everybody is at the mercy of such a disease.

“Please, I’m so fucking scared.” you repeated, fear was practically oozing out of your pores. Your heart was beating so fast you were sure it’d burst out of your chest, that would be better in a way. “I won’t die as one of those things.”

Ellie’s blood ran cold, she understood exactly what that meant. She understood that you’d be going out on your own terms or hers, you weren’t prepared for this. In Jackson, you were told that if your partner on patrol was bitten, you had to kill them. But nothing could’ve prepared her for this, nothing could’ve ever prepared her for the fact she’d have to shoot you.

“I knew you’d say that, fuck..” she murmured, her hand running over her face in an intense fear she hadn’t felt in a while. That familiar helpless feeling was settled in her lungs, she didn’t know if she could ever heal after this, she’d be absolutely torn to shreds. She’d be shredded from the inside out, an irreversible type of damage that could be patched up but never healed. No, she’d never heal, not if she was by herself.

Ellie just held you, she couldn’t bring herself to reach for her gun. She just wanted to hold you, even if this was making it hurt even worse. She knew she would regret every moment she didn’t get to hold you, she’d never get to make up all the time she failed you.

“You know how much I love you, right? I’m so lucky to have had such an amazing woman as my girlfriend.” you hiccuped, tears spilling out of your eyes uncontrollably. The fear and despair you felt couldn’t be described with words, you didn’t think you’d ever be ready for something like this. You always told Ellie how lucky you were, but it was in admiration, not a goodbye. As much as you told yourself you were prepared, nobody was prepared for this kind of thing deep down.

Ellie’s tears were falling onto your body, soaking your shirt as they fell. Her face was scrunched up in a way that just screamed despair, the tears didn’t stop. “No, I’m the lucky one. I don’t know how I managed to to get the most beautiful woman on this earth. How’d I get so lucky?” her voice cracked, she was gently rubbing your cheek. “I love you so much, I’m so sorry I can’t fix this.”

You were sobbing so hard it was difficult to breathe, this was like a sad scene in a movie. You never thought you’d feel something as atrocious as this, not once.

“Please tell me what to do, what am I gonna do without you?” she asked, pleading for an answer. She truly didn’t know what she would do. How could she go on when she was all alone? Her biggest fear was being alone, why did everyone she love always leave her alone?

The sobbing on your half didn’t let up, but you managed to control yourself a bit so you could talk. “Go home, baby. Just go home.”

Go home. That’s what she should do? After all of this she should just go home? What would your death be for then? If she just went home, your death would be for nothing. How could she lose the most important person in her life while trying to avenge a past one. Who could she take revenge on this time? That runner was already dead, now she was just left with an empty, pained feeling. Would it be the same if she killed Abby?

How could she go home when you weren’t there waiting did her? How could she sleep knowing she’d never be able to hold you again? How could she eat if it wasn’t at the table with you, or one of your meals? How could she live in a world you didn’t, in a world where you were being torn from her arms.

“Please, please go home. I don’t want you to die too, even if it doesn’t seem like it, you have a chance. You’ll never find happiness if you continue this, so please, go home.” you pleaded, all you wanted was for her to be safe.

Ellie was so conflicted, but hearing your pleas melted her soul like fucking acid. She couldn’t say no to you, not when this was the last request you’d ever give her.

“Okay, okay, sweetheart. I’ll go home.” she said, her sobs only worsening. She couldn’t keep doing this, this conversation was the most torturous thing she had ever felt in her life. A feeling of immeasurable loss that she knew was coming, a feeling of hopelessness that she was all too familiar with.

You just sat and held each other for a bit, sobbing and trying to soak up the last love you’d ever receive from each other. But after a long while, you decided it had to end. This couldn’t drag on forever, you needed to just go.

Ellie held the gun shakily in her hand, loud, gut wrenching sobs crawling out of her throat. you just held her, crying and trying to soothe her despite the severity and gut wrenching pain of this moment.

“I love you so much, Ellie.” you said weakly, the sobs silencing any other thought in your head. All you could think about was how much you loved this woman. You’d always love her, your heart would still be full of her even if it wasn’t beating anymore.

Ellie’s breath was coming out in short gasps, the severity of her crying only worsening. “I love you too, I love you so much. It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you.” she managed, just holding you and caressing you gently.

Promises meant nothing when you had a gun to your head, even if it was a gun held by your lover. You were in the mercy of that person, you couldn’t tell them that you were supposed to just go home with your girlfriend. that was the last thought that absorbed your mind, before that aching thought was silenced with a gunshot.

The silence was only on your part, for Ellie, she just screamed.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Loneliness is a feeling of loss and sadness. A darkness that had no light to overshadow it, that is unless you found somebody. Loneliness is a feeling that can make you feel so small, a feeling that can make you feel like you’re the only person in a melting pot of other everybody else in the world. Loneliness is having people torn away from you and having nobody left, or sometimes the act of not letting anybody get close to you. In any scenario, loneliness is a gut wrenching feeling that eats away at your core like a tapeworm. A feeling of such utter agony with nobody around to dull it. A feeling of isolation that even the most independent people struggle to deal with.

In an apocalyptic world, loneliness is a common theme. People you loved were torn away from you, they were torn from you in such a way that was out of your control. Lack of control was often a cause for loneliness, it’s not like you’re able to keep everybody. Even if you try with everything you have, it’s pointless when you’re not in control. It’s not like you can control the people you lose, sometimes it’s cold and sleek , sometimes their demise is forced into your very hands.

Loneliness is often feared, or so it was in Ellie’s case. The idea is having everybody in her life that she loved disappear was too much to bear. She was sure she’d lose some people, but not everybody. But that was the reality of an apocalypse, such barbaric monsters couldn’t register your cries for mercy. They couldn’t register that they were taking away somebody so important.

No, not anymore.

The house in which you shared with Ellie was almost always silent. A space which you once would laugh and cook together, was now just an empty, lifeless, soul eating memory. A space in which you’d hold the love of your life was now filled with dread and sorrow, only she could hold herself. There was no life left in that house, there wasn’t any left in Ellie either.

Ellie spent most of her days just laying in bed, holding a shirt of yours or anything she could find. She clung to the scent of you, when the scent was gone from an item that you owned she’d just cry and grieve your death all over again. She’d think about the way she screamed and cried while holding you for hours in that empty house, even though you couldn’t hold her back.

Ellie was right, she couldn’t heal.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

tags - @eriiwaii @valeisaslut thank you so much for the support! <3

[demigoddessqueens]

shibari siblings

[summary: Both Targaryen brothers appreciate what you can do for them.

Tags - smut,q18+,nsfw,shibari elements,sex work

[a/n - a part one chapter to a two-part series)

[a/n2 - tagging moot @misswynters a fellow writer whose works I love to read!! Srsly go read her stuff)

here and on my ao3

You were perched on the bed as the pink strips of cloth wrapped around your body. From the other side of the divider, you could hear him shuffling off the rest of his under clothes.

It was common knowledge in your certain brothel that the Prince Regent always sought out his comforts here, but recently he had turned his favors towards you more. He always explored his options whenever there was a gnawing at the raging doubts and insecurities in his mind.

Hands and arms were tied behind your back with pink silk ties. You were on your knees as the ties wrapped around your calves and mid-section of your thighs. The rest had circled around your neck, to accenting your endowed chest before wrapping back again behind you. Your heart was pounding loudly in your ears as there was no chance to escape.

He was a violent man in the sky on dragon back. Everyone knew it, you knew it but you weren’t afraid of him in this moment. Prince Regent Aemond was actually shy and gentle with you right now.

Staring straight back at him, you saw his long eyelashes flutter in anticipation the more he took you into his embrace. The lean frame sculpted from training in the yard completely towered and engulfed you in his arms as he brought you close to him. He placed gentle kisses along your face and neck as one hand was cupped behind your head.

It was….oddly sweet of him.

You had heard of the famed sapphire that decorated his eye but it was an experience to witness in person. It glimmered with lust when you pulled back to see his face. There was a stern coldness to his demeanor but it looked as if the young man was at war internally. To let a lingering bitterness consume him or give in to a comfort you gave him, a vulnerability that was rarely afforded in his brutal life.

“Are you comfortable, my lady?”

You held your breath for a while before answering with a nod and quiet “yes”. Was there a right answer to give such a powerful man or were you more eager than you let on?

As soon as he slipped his cock between your folds, you shuddered at the overwhelming feeling. You were wet as is from the anticipation and the complement feeling of his girth filling you completely made you want more of him. To fill you completely to the hilt as much as he wanted.

“Do I hurt you?”

You shook your head quickly to reassure him.

“No, no…it just feels good. Keep going, my Lord.”

Aemond knew part your work in this brothel was to ease customers, and part of him wanted to believe you being genuine rather than the hefty coin he had given you. Continuing on, he held your bound body closer to his. Your soft breasts were pushed against his chest as he thrusted his hips up into you, guiding himself in and out as he wrapped his arms tighter around you sitting in his lap. As his arms wrapped around to your bound hands, you felt his completely engulf yours. A small gesture on your part that you thought would reassure him.

Every time he pulled back to see your reaction, he felt compelled to kiss your parted lips as your head was thrown back in ecstasy. It was just so warm and inviting which were two foreign concepts to him. Still, Aemond relished the taste of you and the perfect way your lips molded into his.

There was no rush in this room with you two. The lit candles and low moans from you both was just enough to curtail intimacy in such a seedy establishment. Thrusting, gliding in and out of you was more than a heaven Aemond felt deserving of. Your inner walls clenched and your cunt was wet the more he brushed up against you. You matched his thrusts with your own hips but being deprived of other senses made your body tense with the foreboding pleasure.

Aemond felt you twitch and knew you were not long to last, but he wanted to see how you would come undone. He wanted to see that he was capable of just more than the war and destruction he waged. Burying his head into the crook of your neck, you heard a low grunting command.

“Come for me.”

It felt like a command on cue as your body released wave after wave of pleasure. Your body tensed and relaxed in rapturous bliss as you rode out the last of your high. All the while, Aemond kept his arms around you to keep you steady as you both lowered down onto the bed.

That was a lie though. He loved how you felt in his arms, your small form against his body. The Prince Regent looks down at your spent form and feels a twinge in his chest. He is utterly infatuated and smitten with you. Resting his head against your chest, the beating rhythm of your heart soothes his mind before kissing between your bosom.

[twilightaurora]

bolstering a fighter's spirit – sage

sneak peek: before battle, link pulls you aside with a request. he wants to wear his barbarian armor into the fight, but he needs help with the paint patterns of the set. after all, the attack bonus only happens when the purple paint completes the armor. won't you help him?

pairing: sage (totk!link) x fem!reader, background chain (no wind) x fem!reader (poly) – this will be four parts! one for sage, wild, and cal, then the triplets together ;)

warnings: 18+ content! (do NOT interact with this unless you have an age indicator in your bio - I WILL block you) cursing, spitting, handjobs/masturbation, hair pulling, praising, mentions of oral (m! receiving), sage is a big tease, a little bit of exhibitionism (public setting, but you're alone), jealousy ;) biting (forgive me if sage is ooc, he's just a little gremlin in my eyes) this is mostly teasing – the good stuff will come in part four ;)

word count: 6.4k

a/n: i want sage in a way that is concerning to feminism i think (/j... or am i??) this is dedicated to @neverchecking who fueled my brain rot xD this series is for you >:D

It starts with Sage.

Because it always does. 

The chain landed in his Hyrule the day before, appearing on the borders of Zora’s Domain. The shift wasn’t terrible this time – for you anyway. Hylia, whether intentionally or not, had dumped you directly atop Time and Twilight. 

In your humble opinion, Time made a much worse cushion than his successor. With his broad chest and stiff armor, the eldest hero was less than comfortable to land on. Twilight, on the other hand, managed to grasp a hold of your waist in the midst of the fall, and dragged you into him as the three of you went down. You ended up landing mostly atop Twilight, much to your thanks. However, you could still feel the harsh press of Time’s armor against your sides.

“Oof,” you grunt as the air escapes your chest involuntarily. Pressing a hand to your ribs, you suck in a grateful breath of air as you lean forward. 

A hand slips around your hips as another gently taps against your back.

“You alright there, darl’?” 

It’s Twi. His accent is unmistakable. 

His hand rubs sweetly against your side as you cough. Sitting up with a huff, you feel Twilight hum as you lean away from his chest. Awkwardly, you shimmy off his lap to land between him and Time, smiling with a little chuckle, you nod. 

“Yeah, m’okay,” you smile, feeling your breath return. “You?”

Twilight chuckles, shifting and stretching his back. The three of you landed on your backs, facing skyward as the portal closed above you. It wasn’t a big fall, but it was enough to leave you winded. 

“M’alright, too. What about ya,’ Time? Ya’ good, old man?” Twilight turns over his shoulder to look at Time with a toothy grin. You catch a glimpse of his sharpened canines and have to look away before he catches your lingering stare. 

Time huffs, rubbing his own hand against the chest-plate of his armor. 

“Watch it, pup,” the eldest murmurs, but there’s no heart in it. Especially when you find the grin twisting the corner of his mouth upwards. “I’m okay. Is everyone all here?”

“We’re good!” 

The reply comes from Wind, the youngest already standing and looking around the new environment. His hands are on his hips and there’s a beaming grin on his lips. 

“Speak for yourself, kid,” Legend grunts. The Vet is pulling himself from a pile of limbs, buried beneath the forms of Hyrule, Sky and Wild. “You didn’t land at the bottom of the pile.”

A resounding groan comes from Sky as he weasels his way from underneath the others, offering his own complaint. 

“Four’s a little woozy, but other than that we’re doing fine,” Warriors inputs, his form crouched beside the mentioned hero. Four is on his hands and knees, panting as he attempts to right himself. Shifts are always a little different for him. Perhaps it had something to do with the other parts of him still constrained within one form, but he didn’t quite know. 

“I’ll be fine, Wars. Just gimme’ a few minutes.” 

Time is on his feet a moment later, turning back to you with a sweet smile and offering a hand. 

“Thank you,” you hum as you slip your fingers into his own. Twilight props you up as you begin to stand, his hand sliding from your back to a fraction lower. When you turn over your shoulder to shoot him a look, Twilight gives you a wolfy smile and a little wink before he begins to stand as well. You roll your eyes goodnaturedly and ignore the flash of heat that zings through your gut. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Time murmurs, brushing the dirt off your tunic as you fix yourselves. “Anyone know where we are?” 

“It’s my Hyrule,” comes Sage’s voice. The Hero of the Zonai is looking down at his Purah Pad, scanning through something as he speaks. “We landed pretty close to Zora’s Domain. If we’re lucky we can make it there before nightfall.” 

Wild nods, brushing off his tunic as he confirms Sage’s words. 

“I recognize Inogo Bridge,” he muses as slings a Lynel Bow over his shoulders. “Is the road to the Domain as overrun here as it is in mine?” 

Sage hums as he filters through his weapon inventory, eventually summoning a Zonaite Sword that’s been fused to some monster part that the others don’t recognize. That Fuse ability of his is still something the Chain is getting used to. 

“It’s not so bad. I cleared it out before the last Blood Moon, but I’m not sure how long I’ve been gone.” 

Time leaves your side to join Sage and Wild. Cal fills his empty place easily, a little grin on his lips as he scans over your form. When he finds no injuries, his smile broadens, giving you a nod as you lean forward to pat his cheek sweetly. The pinkish hue of his cheeks is too cute. 

“I’m fine, Cal, really,” you murmur, leaning into the Hero as he blushes. 

“Just checking, is all.” 

You smile, pecking Cal’s cheek as you leave his side to join the other heroes. Time has his arms crossed over his chest as Sage speaks, his one eye still shut and his armor glinting in the sun. 

“Okay,” the Hero of Time begins, scanning over the Chain as he mulls over his words. “We move in an hour. That should give everyone a chance to recover from the shift. We should prepare for a fight – with our luck, the road will probably be overrun.” 

The rest of the Chain offer various forms of agreement, beginning to move away as they shift through their various belongings. You pull your pouch to your front and untangle the strings as you rifle through the magically enhanced insides. Finding the bottles you’re searching for, you count the number of healing potions and fairies still on your person. Mentally accounting for the rest of the chain and the number of potions you know are in Wild’s slate, you hum thoughtfully. There’s enough. As long as nothing goes terribly wrong, everything should be just fine. 

A moment later, your name is called. 

Lifting your head, you find Sage’s eyes across the clearing. The Hero of the Zonai finds your gaze and lifts his hand to beckon you closer. 

“C’mere, sunflower,” he smiles, the glint in his eyes reflecting something deeper. His grin looks a little too close to a smirk, and your heart skips a beat. He wants something. “I need your help with something.”

You follow his motion with a silly tumble of your stomach. Sage never fails to make your gut flip and your skin warm. You’re so weak for this man and he’s not even doing anything. 

“What’s up, Sage?” 

The hero is already wearing different clothes from the ones he landed in. You recognize them – you’ve seen his barbarian armor before. He and Wild – as well as Cal, you’ve come to learn, each have a set of the ‘armor.’ You’re hardly sure it can be called armor, given how little it actually seems to protect during battle. Wild had mentioned the armor was enhanced by the Great Fairies, giving him some kind of magical boost during battle. You didn’t really understand it, but you believed him. The triplets were wonders on the battlefield, and with the addition of the armor, you could tell their prowess seemed to grow. 

However, though Sage dons the leg wraps and the chest guard, the helm is still missing. When you step closer to the hero, you notice he’s suspiciously missing something else too. 

There’s no paint decorating his skin. 

The fur of his boots and at his shoulders ruffles with the soothing breeze, and you desperately try to keep your eyes away from the toned lines of his abdomen. Sage, however, seems to notice your struggle, because his grin only seems to broaden. 

When you reach his side, Sage holds something out to you. 

A paintbrush. 

“Can you help me with this, pretty? I can’t reach my back as easily as you can.” 

You have to battle against the way your stomach flutters. Skin warming and fingers twitching, you reach out to grab the brush from Sage’s outstretched hand. 

“Are you sure?” you murmur. “I don’t know the pattern as well as you.” 

Sage gives you another grin, humming sweetly as he reaches for your hands. His skin is warm as he pulls you closer. 

“Of course I’m sure. I’ll help you, love. Just come with me, please?” 

The look he gives you makes your knees weak. His lidded eyes are filled with something you can’t decipher, and his pretty cerulean irises are peering down at you with something dark in their depths. The way he leans forward over you is troubling given the way your heart clenches. 

“Okay, if you’re sure,” you whisper, smiling back at the hero.

Sage leads you away from the camp the Chain begins to build. You’re not quite sure what the distance is for, but you assume he must want some privacy given how close the paint is to… 

Oh. 

Sage smirks as you begin to realize what he’s asked you to do. His grip on your hand tightens and you press your lips together to repress the way your cheeks warm. Your stomach flips and something hot surges between your thighs. 

“You finally realize what I’m asking you, pretty girl?” 

Goddesses, this man is too much for you. 

You offer Sage a look, feeling suddenly small beneath his heated gaze. His blonde locks are loose and hanging delicately around his face, and you want to run your fingers through the silky tresses. You wonder what kind of sound he’ll make if you tug on them. 

Turning back to you when he’s deemed the distance enough, Sage gives you another smirk and pulls you close. He clutches your hips in his hands, tugging you closer with lidded eyes and leans down closer to you. Your heart skips a beat as his lips graze over your own, and you surge closer to his pretty mouth. 

Sage chuckles, the low sound making your stomach feel funny. 

“Ah ah, sunflower…” he tuts playfully, squeezing your hips and pressing his waist into your own. “I still need your help – there’s no attack boost without the body paint, you know?” 

You huff, shooting him a withered look at Sage grins. The hero pulls out the paint he uses for such purposes, outstretching it towards you as he motions towards the paintbrush. 

“Please, my love? You can start with my legs.” 

You nearly roll your eyes at his honey-sweet tone, giving him another look as you accept the paint. Your stomach flips again when Sage leans back, resting his weight against a tree behind him. The hero spreads his legs a bit, offering you the space between them as he looks down at you. 

With something hot rippling beneath your skin, you realize what he beckons for you to do. Huffing, you drop to your knees at Sage’s feet and look up at him with your brows raised. You find the man already looking down at you with a toothy grin, and something feral in his expression makes you even weaker to his salacious smirk. 

“This what you wanted, Sage?” 

“That’s perfect, sweet girl. You know I love you on your knees for me,” he purrs. “You know what the pattern looks like?”

You offer a small nod, shifting your eyes to the empty expanse of his toned thighs. On your knees, your head comes up to his hips, and you’re given a beautiful view of his gorgeous legs. The little skirt the armor uses barely covers more than a few inches beneath his hips, and you’re given more than an eyeful of his pretty, bare skin. 

Turning back to the paint in your hands, you dip the paintbrush in the royal purple color and lift it back towards his skin. Looking back up at him once, Sage inclines his head in a nod and you melt underneath his dark eyes. 

You start at his legs, dragging the paintbrush across his right leg. On his outer thigh, you paint the crossing pattern that you’ve seen span over his legs. You definitely have not been paying close attention to the pattern that the armor always dons… 

Flushing at the memory, you feel your thighs weaken, so you spread your knees farther apart to counter the weight. Head spinning as you finish the first leg, you look back up at Sage. He’s still watching you, one of his hands lifting to brush some of your hair out of your eyes sweetly, you melt into his hand. He gives you an uncharacteristically tender look before he nudges you back to your job. 

When you turn to the other leg, you find the leather drop sheath encasing his upper thigh. The dagger in the holster glints in the sun, but that’s not why your stomach flips. 

“Can I…” you murmur, voice uncharacteristically weak. “Can I take this off? I think the paint goes across here, doesn't it?” 

Sage hums, a knowing smirk on his lips as he runs his fingers across your scalp again. Leaning his hips forward towards you, you feel another lick of heat flick between your thighs. 

It’s so… hot. Everything is so hot. You know he’s teasing you, but it’s working. 

By the Three, is it working... 

Sage makes no move to take the holster off himself, simply offering you his hips and looking down at you through his lashes. “Go ahead, pretty. Take it off f’me.” 

You melt beneath his gaze, shakily lifting a hand to his legs. Your brain is racing and your thoughts are so fuzzy. Sage knows exactly how to make you weak beneath him. It takes so little effort. In any other situation, you’d probably throw a playful swat for such behavior, but when Sage gives you that lustful smirk, you find you’ll do anything he says – as long as he keeps looking at you like that, you’ll do anything and everything. 

When your fingers find the holster, skimming across the pretty, pale skin of his inner thigh, Sage keens. Goosebumps ripple across his flesh where your fingers were, leaving a trail of little bumps in a pattern across his skin. Knocking his head back against the tree trunk, Sage hums out a sweet sound and pushes his hips closer to you. 

“Hnng…” 

Goddesses, does he make pretty sounds. 

You want to hear more. As his hips roll forward, you become more than aware of how close his waist is to your face. It takes every fiber of restraint you have not to drift your hand just an inch closer to the edge of his little skirt. 

Loosening the strap of his sheath, you begin to pull the leather from around his thigh. Dragging it down his legs, you drop it at his feet and look back up at him. 

Sage still has his head thrown back against the tree, his lips tugged upwards in a hazy look with his eyes closed. You’re so tempted to brush your lips across the span of his inner thigh, just where you need to paint. Your legs clench, the heat beginning to swell between your own thighs. Before you stand back up on your knees, the leather discarded at Sage’s feet, you indulge your fantasies. Darting forward, you drag your lips across the pale skin of his inner thigh, grinning when Sage curses. 

“Oh, Hylia,” he hisses, eyes prying open to glare down at you. You grin and Sage reaches a hand out to flick your forehead. 

“Keep going, sunflower. There’s still more to paint, and we’ve only got an hour,” he coos. “If you’re quick, maybe I’ll give you a reward for being so good for me.” 

You hurriedly dip the paintbrush back into the violet ink and Sage chuckles in that deep tone that makes your insides mushy. You finish the second crossing pattern on his leg before Sage’s eyes open again. 

Looking up at him, you lift off your knees and sit up. Now closer to his stomach, you hum shakily and whisper quietly. 

“I can’t remember the entire pattern on your chest, Sage. M’gonna need some help.”

“Of course, my love,” he muses sweetly. His hand is back at your scalp, gently scratching at your scalp and grinning when you keen into his hands. He loves when you go limp in his grasp. Oh, Hylia – he wants to see the look on your face when he yanks the strands back. Would you make a pretty sound for him when he does? Would you beg him to do it again? 

He wants to find out. 

Sage loves the sound your voice makes when you beg him so sweetly. He remembers the way your hips canted up into his own not so long ago, desperate for him to roll back into you as he pinned you beneath him. His eyes slide back shut at the memory, feeling his cock stiffen beneath the skirt of his armor. It twitches and Sage can barely contain the urge to drag your hand beneath the waistband to solve the growing problem. He can so clearly recall the touch of your fingertips against the head of his cock. 

Fuck, it’s so hot. 

“There’s a line across each of my ribs. They go around my back,” he manages to choke out. “Do those first.” 

You obey him without complaint, dragging the soft bristles of the brush across his chest just beneath where the chest-plate ends.  The bristles tickle across his ribs, and in any other circumstance, they might have elicited a silly giggle from the usually so stoic hero. However, Sage is far more distracted by the throbbing beneath his waistband to spare the attention for such sensations. 

As you lean back on your heels, tilting your head to assess if the short lines of pain across Sage’s abdomen are even, the hero chuckles again. Licking his lips, he gives you that feral grin that makes your heart clench. Pushing off the tree, he twists around to give you his back. 

“They go down to my waistband,” he murmurs. “You remember ‘em?” 

You offer a vague nod, too distracted by the cutting lines of his hips. Sage eats up the attention. 

With a racing mind, you finish the pattern, dragging the brush from mid-back downwards to the small of his back. When you lift a hand to the edge of his skirt, pulling the edge slightly to dip the brush beneath his waistband, Sage shivers. 

You grin. 

When he turns back to you, he speaks with a flash of sharpened canines. You nearly squirm at his feet, a notion Sage adores. 

“Now my hips.” 

You swallow thickly. 

Before dipping the brush back into indigo paint, you bite the edge of your lip and push back the smirk that attempts to show. You have an idea. 

“Sage…” you hum sweetly, leaning closer to the hero’s waist. Just an inch from the waistband of his skirt, you pull one of your hands up from the ground to rest against the bare skin of his hip. The toned skin of his waist flexes under the touch of your fingers, and you watch Sage’s closed eyes twitch. 

Perfect. 

“Can you help me, darling? I can’t remember how this looks?” 

Sage’s eyes pry open, seemingly with immense difficulty, and the hero’s dilated pupils meet your own. Blown wide with some kind of primal emotion, Sage’s flushed cheeks spread into a grin as he registers your words. You lean closer to his hips, your fingers delicately tracing shapes over his side. You try desperately to restrain a scheming grin when Sage pushes closer to your hands. 

“‘Course, my sunflower. S’just a triangle over my waist. I’ll help you.” 

When one of his hands reaches for yours, you beam. Sage gently lifts your fingers, pulling you closer by your wrist until your front is nearly pressed up against his legs. He looks down at you with that feral, dominant look he knows you love, and you shiver. Your heart thunders beneath your ribs and Sage adores the way you move so easily for him. Always so eager to obey his commands… Goddesses he loves you. He’ll treat you so well after this – he promises. 

Lifting your hand, he helps you drag the paintbrush over his right hip and carefully draws the triangular shape across his waist. He twists a little, allowing you to finish the shape at his back. With another silly grin, he begins to help you start the other side. 

“There you go,” he coos with batting lashes. “Doin’ so well f’me. That’s just perfect.” 

When you finish his hips, Sage helps you paint the three dots on his front before moving to allow you to replicate the same at the small of his back. 

Then, you’ve reached the part you’ve been eagerly awaiting. The last part of his barbarian armor – the handprints.

Sage twists back to his front, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead – a sweet caress compared to the way he’s been looking at you. He’s always so adoring in the way he treats you, even when he’s manhandling you beneath him. When he pulls your legs over his shoulders, darkened irises scanning over your bare hips, Sage always presses a chaste kiss to your calf to apologize for the stretch of your muscles. Always so sweet to the one he loves. 

“Thank you for helpin’ me. Now, give me your hand, sweet thing.” 

You obey, hand already outstretched with your palm facing skywards. Offering him the brush, freshly dipped in orchid-colored paint, Sage hums and accepts. He delicately cradles the back of your hand and begins to coat your fingers in violet ichor. The clay feeling of the paint sinks into your skin, and you sit obediently as Sage paints your palms. 

His eyes flick upwards to meet your eyes with another teasing grin. 

“You’re enjoying this as much as I am, aren’t you, pretty?” 

You nod, a matching smile on your lips. 

“Good,” Sage purrs, finally finishing the coat of paint across your palm. “C’mere then.” 

He twists to give you his spine first. You grin, reaching forward with your unpainted hand to pull gently at his waistband. Sage’s head knocks back as you nudge the skirt lower. When you can clearly see the small of his back, accentuated by his thin waist – his slutty waist, in your opinion – you lift the violet hand and carefully lay it across his spine. 

Sage hums, head still tilted backwards and his eyes closed. 

Before lifting your palm, you lean forward, eyes closing as your lips graze over the bare skin of his hip. Sage’s skin is hot, flushed red with the rush of warmth surging beneath his waistband. His cock twitches again. 

“Naughty…” he whispers teasingly. 

Twisting back around to the front and reclining back against the tree, Sage is careful not to smudge the paint you freshly smeared across his back. Inclining his hips forward again, the Hero of the Zonai gives you that feral look once more before his hand lifts and he’s beckoning you closer. 

“Just one more…” Sage teases, beginning to paint your palm once more. “One more and I’ll reward you.” 

You shiver, the rumble of his voice seemingly sinking beneath your skin to sink into your chest. He makes you so weak. Perhaps it’s something about the way dominance seems to radiate from him during moments like this. All he has to do is bat those blonde lashes and give you that feral, little grin, and you’re putty in his hands. Well, you suppose it’s not so bad. Sage always treats you so well. 

“Yeah, you want that, huh? ‘Course, you do… I always treat you so good, don’t I?” 

You hum in response, shuffling forward on your knees, “Yeah, I want that, Sage. Please?” 

Sage coos, a teasing smile stretched across his lips. He strokes one of his hands over your cheeks before it crawls behind your neck. Cupping your head, he runs his fingers through the hair at the base of your skull. Your thighs clench again. Sage does the same thing when your mouth is preoccupied with something else – running his fingers through your hair and pulling your face closer to his pretty hips. His head shifts between tossing back and staring down at your face, as if he can’t decide if he wants to give in to pleasure or if he can’t stand to look away. And he always sounds so pretty when you go down on him. 

“Ahh, I love it when you beg so sweetly for me, my darling. Finish this and I’ll give you what you want.” 

Releasing your hand, Sage drops the brush and lays back beckoning you forward with a lustful expression. When you shuffle again, inching closer, the hero pulls you forward by the back of your head and your stomach flutters. Offering you his waist, you lift your unpainted fingers with only a single tremor of your awaiting hand. 

Sage nods, inclining his chin in a command. 

“Pull ‘em down, pretty thing. You’ll need to see what you’re doing, right?” 

You huff, unable to offer a teasing remark in return, simply too transfixed on the sharp lines that lead down his waist. The v-line beckons you, guiding down where you want him most. 

Brushing your fingers across his waistline, you find the band of his skirt. Looking up at him once, Sage watches you with fluttering lashes as you begin to nudge the waistband. Tugging on it, Sage pushes his hips towards you to help you pull the skirt down onto his hip bones. 

It goes slow – tantalizingly slow. Revealing bare skin inch by inch, you lean forward to press a kiss to his left hip, but Sage’s fingers grip the back of your neck harshly. Tugging gently at the strands of your hair, your stomach flutters and heat prickles between your thighs. You let out a little grunt and Sage grins wide. His body shivers, seemingly pleased at the tiny sound of pleasure that fell from your lips. 

“Not yet…” Sage coos. “Be patient, sunflower.” 

You give the hero a haughty look, but obey regardless of the sweltering heat building in your panties. 

Weaseling the waistband downwards, you feel your heart jump into your throat. With more of his heavenly hips exposed, you feel another wave of heat flush through your skin. Each of your nerves seems to jump with adrenaline, and you eagerly lift your violet hand to finish the task appointed to you. Finally, you stop tugging at his skirt, leaving the waistband just above his dick. You know it’s uncomfortable, given how it twitches beneath the cloth of his skirt, flexing upwards at your teasing. Sage gives you an unimpressed look, motioning for you to finish. 

So delicately, you press your palm against his pelvis, the purple paint sinking into his bare skin. Fingers following after, you teasingly rest your hand between the sharp edges of his v-line – just above the throbbing muscle between his thighs. 

Sage keens, his head finally tossing back against the tree with another delicious sound. His hips push forward into your hands, tugging you closer to his waist by your neck. The other hand drops across his eyes, hiding his flushed cheeks in his elbow. 

“Hah… fuck.” 

With his arm hiding his eyes, you finally lean forward away from his fingers and leave a kiss on the edge of his v-line just beside your violent hand. Sage grunts, clenching his jaw as your warm mouth opens to drag your tongue over the dip in his hips. 

“By the three…” he whines, finally scrambling to tug at your hair again. Pulling you away, you drag your hand away from his pelvis with a feral grin of your own. Looking up at your work, you watch as Sage pants, his chest heaving with each breath. 

When he finally shifts his arm, his eyes prying open to find your scheming smile, Sage huffs and tightens his hold of your neck. Tugging you closer, he drops his other hand to slide two of his fingers beneath the waistband of his little skirt. Tugging at the band by his hip, he drags it another inch downwards with a primal grin. 

The paint must be working – that ‘fighting spirit’ finally kicking in. 

Wild had tried to explain it before; the magic the armor gives them. He said it enhanced his attack in battle, by somehow ‘bolstering his fighting spirit.’ However, when you questioned what that meant, Wild had gotten a little shifty. His cheeks had flushed and he rubbed his hands together, simply waving off your question with a simple “don’t worry about it.” 

But you’re not stupid. 

You’ve seen the way the triplets get a little more… primal with the armor on. They’re more aggressive, quicker to jump into battle in an attempt to burn off the adrenaline surging beneath their skin. It makes their eyes glint with something dangerous, and you’re not ashamed to say that you quite like the way they look. 

“My good girl…” Sage coos, still dragging down his skirt at a teasingly slow pace. “Will you help me with one more thing, my love? Just one more?” 

You nod before he even finishes his words. 

Sage grins, all teeth and darkened irises. 

“Hmm, thank you, baby.”

Then, Sage finally pries his skirt from his hips, letting the fur material slide off his waist and drop to the forest floor in a single motion. You only have a fraction of a second to admire his bare skin before his pretty cock fills your vision. Nearly slapping against his stomach, Sage’s dick twitches just once when you shift to look at it. The hero keens into your grip when you lean forward, painted hand sliding over his hip where you know the skirt will hide the smeared violet color. 

Sage’s cock, hard and already leaking at the pretty-pink tip, lays against his stomach. It ends at the tip of the purple handprint you had just pressed into his pelvis, almost as if you had known exactly how long his dick was. 

The Hero of the Zonai grins in that feral way, his form nearly radiating with primal dominance. He slides his other hand down across his stomach, taking care to avoid the fresh streaks of paint. Sage wraps a hand around his cock, tugging gently and stroking until it comes to its full hardness. He suppresses the sweet whine that desperately wants to escape – you have to work for those sounds if you want to hear them. 

“Open your mouth f’me, my good girl.” 

Your head tilts back into Sage’s hand, squeezing your legs together as something warm drips between them. Opening your lips, you look up at Sage as the hero smirks. 

“So good… thank you, darling,” he coos sweetly, moving his hand to run his thumb over your bottom lip with a dark look. Leaning forward, Sage spits into your open mouth with a smirk. 

Swallowing obediently, Sage hums happily and leans downard again to tug your lips to his own. Groaning into this kiss, Sage pries open your lips to lick into your mouth. Moaning happily, you melt into Sage’s hand, now returned to the back of your head. Sage kisses you wetly, saliva smearing onto your lips as he pants, still tugging at his cock. Pre-cum slides down the head, slicking up the length as he slides his fist over it with a whimpered sound. 

“Mmm…ah” 

When he finally pulls away from your swollen lips, you chase after his mouth with a sigh. Sage grins, his dilated pupils scanning over your flustered face with a haughty look. You watch him tug at his dick, rubbing your thighs to combat the throb between them as he keens into his own hands. 

“Sage…” you whine, trying to shuffle closer. 

Something flashes across Sage’s darkened eyes. 

“That’s not my name, sweet girl,” he murmurs with a frown. “You know better. C’mon, wanna’ hear you say it right.” 

Your stomach flutters, his teasing tone making your skin tingle and your head spin. You lean closer to his stomach, whining again. 

Sage frowns, pulling your hair gently to redirect your attention. 

“C’mon, pretty. Say my name – my real name.” 

Your eyes find his, tugging carefully on your bottom lip with your teeth before you whine out the name he wants. 

“Link…” 

Sage – Link groans, head tilting back to expose his pretty throat as he slicks up his cock again. Tugging fiercely at the length as his gut clenches, heat swelling and twisting in his pelvis with a sweltering warmth. 

“Oh, fuck…” he whines, pushing his hips closer to your face with a twitch of his dick. “That’s it, my pretty girl. Thank you, baby – thank you.” 

Just the sound of his true name on your lips makes him so aroused he can feel his cock throb painfully in his fingers. His hand tugs your head closer, now looking back down at you with those dark irises. Sliding his other hand away from his dick, Link allows your mouth to suck two of his fingers. Tasting the salty pre-cum coating his fingers, you shift on your knees again with a pretty sound. Link smirks. 

“Okay, my sunflower. You want your reward now?” 

Nodding, your tongue still flicking over his two fingers, you lean closer. Purple paint smears onto both your hands, and you know there are streaks of it on both of Link’s hips. You hope the other’s don’t see – or perhaps, you hope they haven’t paid too close attention to where the paint is supposed to go. You think you can feel little smudges of the orchid clay spreading across your throat where Link is clutching your neck, but you forget about it when Sage whines again as you lick over his fingers like you would his dick. The pretty sound makes you drip, and the panties you’re wearing are surely soiled now. 

“Yes please, Link,” you whisper. 

Link grins again, then pulls his fingers from your mouth and pulls you into his waist. Heat in his stomach and cock throbbing, purple paint decorating his pretty skin, Link slides a hand around his dick and taps it against your lips. 

“Good,” he murmurs, abs clenching as heat continues to stir. “Then suck and I’ll give you another.”

When an hour passes and you and Sage return to the temporary camp, the Chain turns to find faint streaks of smeared paint across Sage’s waist and a lilac tint on your palms. You’re both grinning, wild smiles on your cheeks as you step back into camp. Sage is in his barbarian armor, the skirt ruffled and twisted around just slightly and the helm now on his head. If Wild looks close enough, he can see a faint, dark mark on Sage’s inner thigh, just barely obscured by the skirt of the armor set.

“Are you kidding?” Wild exclaims as the two of you enter camp. He had to paint the armor himself when he could have just asked for you to do it? 

Wild and Cal are both in their barbarian armor, having painted on the violet patterns themselves. The former rolls his eyes as he watches Sage follow you, a smirk on his lips. He finds Wild staring at him and his expression only seems to grow more teasing. Cal shifts on his feet uncomfortably, finding your eyes and offering you a bashful look. 

“What?” Sage responds, his fanged grin still beaming. 

Wild grunts, huffing as he steps closer to you, beginning to pull you away from the other hero. The long-haired hero shoots Sage a glare, but the elder hero only seems to enjoy the spotlight. Wild wraps a hand around your waist, pulling you close as he finds a streak of orchid-colored clay across your throat – a fingerprint shaped print. 

“You have other armor that gives you an attack boost, you know?” Wild grunts towards Sage, jealousy swirling angrily in his stomach. 

“Yeah, but I wanted this one,” Sage smiles. “And our darling just wanted to help me with the paint – didn’t you, my sunflower?” 

You offer a shy smile to Wild, feeling suddenly flustered beneath both their gazes. 

Some of the other members of the Chain slowly begin to congregate in the center of the camp, drawn to the chatter. Wind remains over the ridge of camp, scouting the path ahead with Four. Legend scans over Sage’s slightly smudged paint and your ruffled appearance, rolling his eyes and huffing. 

“Could have been more subtle, Sage,” the Veteran sighs. 

“But what’s the fun in that,” said hero responds, sending Legend a grin. 

Legend simply rolls his eyes again, stepping forward and licking his thumb to scrub away the paint across your throat. You shrink under his gaze, feeling so shy with their attention now on you. Legend scrubs gently and you shiver at the feeling of his saliva against your skin. 

“Stay still,” Legend murmurs. 

“Sorry, Vet.” 

Wild, still at your side, pulls at your tunic and straightens your ruffled appearance, wiping away something at the corner of your mouth. You shy away from their attention with a flutter of your stomach. When Legend is satisfied, he sends you a knowing look before he turns back to Hyrule. 

Wild hums thoughtfully at your left, and you twist to face him. You tilt your head, silently questioning Wild’s thoughts. The hero follows your titled head, eyes dilating as he examines your swollen lips. Lifting a hand, he brushes over the bottom lip with lidded eyes and something dark flashes across his expression. 

Oh no – you know that look. 

“Wild…” you murmur carefully. 

The Hero of the Wilds meets your eyes with a smirk of his own, leaning close until his mouth is pressed against your ear. He breathes a warm sigh over your skin and enjoys the way you weaken in his arms. When he’s sure the Chain isn’t looking, he drops a hand to squeeze one of your thighs, briefly dragging a finger across the seam of your pants. You keen into Wild’s chest with a breathy sound and the hero sighs happily.

“After we reach Zora’s Domain,” he whispers, voice saccharine like the honey he cooks with. His mouth presses a sweet kiss to the skin of your throat, pecking it gently before he sets his sharp teeth against your shoulder. You whine quietly into him as they prick your flesh, and Wild bites carefully into your throat with a huff. “It’s my turn…”  

bonus:

sage, walking back into camp: sorry i'm late I was doing stuff

reader, emerging from behind sage: i'm stuff! :D

[bring-backup-99]

Before It Gets Too Late

PAIRING: tech x fem reader

SUMMARY: You spend a fun and special day with Tech, starting with a flying lesson that takes an unexpected turn. There’re fluffy times but mostly sexy times. (I’m trying to support and comfort my Tech people during this dark period.)

WORDS COUNT: 1926

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, very spicy, porn with minimal plot, PiV, rough sex, probably bad flight mechanics

NOTES: This is installment twenty-two of my reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3, but I think it’s also a nice stand-alone Tech story. Although it’s written in second person, my heroine has a very established relationship with the Batch.

Everything was going fine until a large flock of flying creatures shot out of the canopy in a wide column directly into the ship’s path. You were too close to simply fly around them, and every other usual option you could think of would leave hundreds of them dead and the ship with possible light damage.

So without a second thought, you killed the thrusters while sending the ship in a tight turn, the nose pointed at the column. A quick tap of the port thruster has you cleared of the animals, with what you hoped were minimal casualties, then you reinitialized the main thrusters and resumed your disrupted flight path.

For a full minute, there was silence to your left. Finally, “It appears that flying lessons were unnecessary.”

“That was never the question,” you hedged. “You asked if I would like you to give me lessons. You didn’t ask if I knew how to fly. I answered honestly.” And this was your third time out.

“But with a glaring omission,” Tech huffs at you.

“Don’t be angry at me. I was very curious as to how you would be as a flight instructor, and I would not have received the same response if you had known.” What you do know is that this is logic he won’t be able to argue with.

He hmphs at you again, but you can tell he’s not really upset.

“That was an interesting maneuver you performed.”

“A modified ‘Tech turn.’ Seemed like the best option for minimizing death and destruction.” You pause for a moment, then you look at him. “It can’t be, right? The ‘Tech turn’…” You trail off as you see the corners of his lips turn up to an actual smile.

“That is not what it is called.”

“I’m going to fuck your so hard as soon as we land.”

“I was contemplating something similar.”

He doesn’t take the controls from you, but you sit quietly for a while.

“I’m not great at mechanics. You could teach me that?” you offer.

“Specifically define ‘not great’,” he asks.

“I definitely couldn’t fully repair this ship, but I am unable to give you a rundown of which systems I am deficient in. That’s the best I can do.”

“That…is acceptable.”

*

Almost as soon as the ship touches down in the tree-lined clearing, you are on each other. He lets you push him back down in his pilot’s chair, straddling him while your lips devour his with kisses. You groan in frustration as you try to divest him of his various layers of clothing, but you’re too eager and your fingers can’t find all the buckles and straps.

Want. Need. They course through you. You need his skin against yours. Finally, he takes pity, gently stops your fumbling, and slowly removes all the items covering his torso, your desperate whimpering doing nothing to hurry him. Then he lifts off your shirt. Your bodies crash together again. He kisses along your neck, down to your breasts, cupping them, licking your nipples. You throw your head back and cry out, your hands stroking over his head and neck; then fingernails scrape down his back, feeling his taut muscles.

“Against the wall,” you groan. Moments later, you’re both naked, and your back is to the one bare metal plate in the cockpit. Tech drops to a knee in front of you, places your leg over his arm, and targets your clit in a focused and aggressive attack.

“Fuck! FUCK!” you scream as, mere minutes later, you come. And then he lifts you, burying himself deep inside you, pounding into you, your pussy still twitching in pleasure.

Every rough, hard thrust is accompanied by his grunts, and you loudly proclaim your satisfaction, your voice echoing through the ship. You want Tech to do this, need him to do this, to take his pleasure from your willing body. He captures your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand, his other hand gripping your ass, fingers pressed into your flesh, pinching, bruising. He kisses you, mauling your lips, and when he breaks away, you sink your teeth into his shoulder.

He gasps, releasing your wrists, and takes a strong hold of your ass and thighs, angling you for deeper, feral thrusts. Your arms encircle his neck and shoulders. You want him like this, desperate for you, as if no one else could give this to him. An animalistic groan emanates from him as his cock ravages you until finally a full throated cry signals his climax and he holds himself deep inside of you, and you feel his hot cum pump into you.

Neither of you move, the only sounds your gasping breaths as you each try to take in enough air.

“Mmmm,” you finally manage. “That was excellent.” You smile, then lick a drop of sweat from his neck.

“Yes,” he says, a slight gleam in his eye, “Quite satisfactory.”

* You lie in a bunk together, your head on his shoulder, a hand idly stroking his chest.

“Why did you not disclose to me that you did not need flying lessons? Your skill level is clearly quite adequate.”

You suck in your breath. I wanted to spend time with you outside of my bedroom. I wanted to know who you are when we’re not fucking. I wanted to be on this ship with you when you could be focussed on me. I wanted… So many wants, as if you can’t be happy with what you have.

“It’s been a long time since I flew. I wasn’t sure that I didn’t need them…at least as a refresher.” You hesitate. “Are you angry at me?...slightly perturbed?

“I am not. And at least they were not a waste of time.” His fingers run up and down your arm.

“No,” you agree.

Tech looks down at you, watching your hand move along his skin. You have not asked him why he offered to teach you, which is for the best. Tech is worse at articulating his wants than you are.

*

You wake up alone in the bunk. It’s been awhile since the person you’d fallen asleep with wasn’t still beside you. The ship is dark, so it must be night. You get up, the floor cold under your feet, expecting to find Tech in the cockpit.

Instead, a drop-ladder is down from the midship overhead storage space.

“Tech?” You call up.

“Ah, you are awake,” you hear him say. “I was just coming down to collect you. Come up here.”

“Um, I’m naked?” You look around for your clothing and see nothing.

There’s a long pause. “It appears that I am nude as well…I do have blankets.”

You sigh and tentatively climb the ladder, then follow Tech’s voice to a maintenance hatch with another ladder that lets you out onto the ship’s fuselage. He takes your hand and leads you to where he’s laid out a large blanket over the cockpit. You feel awkward even though the warm night air is quite pleasant on your skin.

“What’s this all about?”

Tech helps you down onto the blanket, then points up. “The moons have just set, so we should have quite an excellent view of the Quadrillen meteor shower. I believe you expressed dissatisfaction with your ability to see this from the city.”

You look up and, after a few moments, you watch a meteor blaze across the sky. You hadn’t mentioned that you wanted to watch this to Tech. You and Crosshair had been discussing it. You hadn’t realized Tech was paying attention. You lie next to each other, mostly in silence, watching the light show.

“I must admit, I was skeptical at first, but this is quite a pleasant experience.”

“Skeptical? Why?”

“I have seen many natural phenomena during my travels in space. I did not think that the debris from a comet entering a planet's atmosphere would be particularly visually stimulating in comparison to what I have witnessed. But taken as a whole, this is quite an excellent experience.”

You laugh. “I suppose.” Smiling, you continue to watch as the little streaks fill the night, when suddenly three meteors scorch their way across the sky. You sit up excitedly and point. “That was amazing.” You look down at Tech. He has a slight smile on his face, then he pushes himself up and presses his lips to yours. His arms gather your body to him, one hand stroking in your hair, one at the small of your back. He takes your breath away with his kiss, drawing you down onto him.

This feels insane. Are you really going to fuck on top of the ship under the night sky? Turns out, yes, yes, you are.

You lie on him, enjoying the feel of his hot skin along your body. You kiss for a long time, until you can’t take it anymore, and whisper, “I need you. Please.” He helps you slide onto him, both of you gasping. You whimper; you’re a little sore but the sensation is too sweet. You lean forward, pressed chest to chest, as he pivots his hip to help you fuck him gently.

And when he carefully rolls you both so you can watch over his shoulder as the stars cascade out of the sky, you can’t help but think that this is all a little too ridiculous. He moves above you, long strokes that make your breath catch, and you cry out because sometimes he fits inside you perfectly.

You wrap your legs around him. “Yes, I like that. It feels so good. Just like that, Tech. Mmmm, just like that.”

Stars keep falling as he takes hold of your legs, angling you so his cock can thrust deeper. Your cries sound small as the trees surrounding you consume them.

You move together, one being working toward the same goal. Each stroke sends shivers through you until you feel your body full with warmth as a soft climax overtakes you, not nearly as intense as the one earlier, but somehow more satisfying.

He holds your hands, fingers intertwined, as he watches your face while the orgasm washes over you, drinking in those little noises you make that he so enjoys. He moves carefully as you finish, knowing you must be sore already, wanting you to still find pleasure as he nears his own climax.

And then you start whispering to him, “Come in me, Tech. I need to feel you inside me. I need it. I need you to come for me.” You move under him, insistent, demanding, so he has to surrender to you. He stiffens and gasps, his hot cum emptying in you. You wrap yourself around him as he collapses onto you, finally spent. You watch as the stars continue to fall through the blackness of the sky.

“We shouldn’t fall asleep up here.”

“Yes, that would be unwise.” He gingerly lifts himself off you. You roll and lie on his shoulder, watching the stars fall behind the trees. The air is cooling and you shiver. “Let us go back inside. You can continue watching from the cockpit, if you wish.”

“Tech.” He looks at you, while collecting the blankets. I wanted to spend more time with you, that’s why I lied.

“Thank you for tonight.” This was really special to me. I hope it was to you.

“Yes, this was very enjoyable.” He watches you as you climb down the hatch. I wish to do this again.

* But wait, there’s more:

The rest of the series can be found here.

Warning: It gets kinky

[crazylittlejester]

Wars and Time body swap fic ft. a good serving of pure crack and idiocy: CHAPTER TWO!!

Summary: A Link's worst trait perhaps was his undying curiosity and inability to walk past something fascinating without exploring it. Should Time and Warriors have walked into the ruins? Absolutely not. But they had, and now they had a MAJOR problem they had to deal with because of it. Hopefully the others don't notice when they shamefully walk back to camp-

Chapter Two:

Warriors had been through a lot of really strange things in the twenty seven years he’d been alive, and if he got a rupee for every time he said to himself “Now this is the strangest thing I’ve ever lived through” he wouldn’t have needed any of the money he’d earned as a soldier to live a comfortable life. Meeting and caring for a young boy from another time who he came to care for as a brother during the war, finding two cats in the ruins of a village and becoming so attached to them he often found himself crying at night because he missed them, meeting up again with said brother (now older than him and a good few inches taller) as well as seven others on a mission from the gods none of them understood, one of those companions being the wolf one of his friends from the war had so often talked about, another one of said companions having a tendency for cooking soup with monster parts in it… His life was simply a collection of bizarre events at this point.

But… and he was hesitant to say it, he was reasonably certain that winding up in his little brother’s body because of some fucking wizzrobe and getting stuck there might actually be the weirdest thing the gods could ever throw at him. This one would genuinely be quite difficult to top.

“So,” Warriors groaned, lowering his aching body to the ground and biting his lip so he didn’t cry out when the pain became overwhelming. The red potion he’d taken a few minutes ago had done quite a lot to erase the agony he’d been experiencing when he’d first woken up in his brother’s body, but his hip still ached fiercely enough that he had to fight to keep his breathing level. “How’d you figure it out, Twi?”

His friend stared at him in confusion, head tilting to the side as a frown appeared on his face.

READ THE REST ON AO3

[sapphicseasapphire]

Good old fashioned cuddle pile pic with as much of the chain as you think would willingly cuddle ♥️

Happy belated birthday

Imagine drawing nine people I could never. This is a stupid little sketch at best but it’s important to me!

Twi sat down and Sky, always looking for a cuddle opportunity, curled right up to him. Wind, knowing how soft Sky’s wings are, joined them and promptly fell asleep. Four, noticing the steadily growing group of content heroes, placed themself right between Twilight and Sky. And then Wild, with Wars’ sword held tightly in his arms, silently made his way over and nestled himself in Sky’s downy feathers, resting against Twilight’s shoulder. Hyrule makes himself comfortable in Twi’s hair.

Legend, while he’s usually pretty touch adverse, loves to bury himself in Sky’s wings. But he stands a fair distance away since his spot was taken- by Wind of all people. And Time would usually be happy to let the others lean on him- except for Sky, so he hangs back as well.

[greennoobartist]

Hey! You! I’m sleep deprived as balls and am currently running off stress and prayers and I need something to distract me! Gimme headcanons of yours about all members of the chain!

…please?

You got it! Lemme just turn on this whatever type of music i listen to and roll up my sleeves for this! Ill try to give at least two for each one of them! (I literally have no idea what is this type of music listen to? Rock? Punk? Cyperbunk? Idk)

Time:

He loves to secretly spend time with Epona bcuz it reminds him of the good old days on the farm and also Malon. So he sometimes will secretly or just randomly spend a bit of time with Twilight's Epona. Ofc Twi doesn't mind bcuz he knows this. Time sometimes even ends up going for a ride but those almost never ended up well

He does keep the Ocarina on his belt, but he hates getting reminded of it. It reminds him of all the timeline stuff he went through so even looking at it makes him mad. He doesn't take it out unless he really has to.

Twilight:

He gives constant glances to his shadow, hopelessly thinking he'll get a slight wave or smth from Midna, but he knows he won't. Especially at sunset, hoo boy.

He secretly has a stick or anything pretty solid to keep his canines sharp. To make it less weird he bites on that stick when he's Wolfie but sometimes very secretly he can bite on it a bit when he has a weird need to. Ofc he avoids doing that. Sometimes it slips in his sleep and it can be seen that he's making bite-like movement with his mouth while sleeping (it looks pretty silly cuz it looks like he's biting air lol)

Warriors:

How does he have such clean and smooth hair? He has hair products in his inventory! Yup :P He has hair products he keeps in his inventory and uses it during the journey when his hair gets dirty or messy (it's a must to use them in the morning! A must!)

From the War of Eras (i didn't play his game yet so sorry if this doesn't make sense) he just can't understand how are Wind and Time who they are in LU. Like how is Time now married and so old and Wind just pretty much taller than he was and also older. It's actually not that much surprising for him that Wind got older but Time is the most surprising for him. Wars just can't understand how on earth did a kid he know got so much older that he's now even older than him and even married. Sometimes he can't believe it so much that he doesn't believe that the Hero of Time he knew and LU Time are the same person. This theory sits the best with him, but he knows it might not be necessarily true.

Sky:

He sometimes tries to write letters to his Zelda and give them to a random bird, but so far no bird delivered it correctly and it always ended up in a bush or somewhere.

He likes to envelope himself in the cloak Zelda made for him when he's upset and needs comfort, or sometimes just while sleeping. He also loves to use it to comfort others since others also enjoy the softness of it. Legend is the only one who refuses to be comforted by it (who knows why he just be grumpy lol)

Wild:

He once found a Silent Princess flower while on a walk with Twi, and just like you would've predicted, it made him really sad. He first got several flashbacks of memories until it really made him sad and nostalgic that he let out a few tears. Since Twi was there he first waited for his flashbacks to pass before comforting him. Since Wild trusts him enough he told him a bit about it and how Silent Princesses were the favorite flower of his Zelda and all that.

He's trying to teach Rulie how to cook, but the kid is just a magnet for culinary failure. No matter what recipe he tries Rulie just manages to fail. Rulie isn't the only one he's teaching. He gave some culinary lessons to Wind too and surprisingly Four too (Red was the one mostly curious in cooking) So Wold kinda works as the culinary teacher to the Chain since he's the best cook.

Bonus bcuz I know he's your fave :) : Since he doesn't know how to play any instruments, he loves to listen to the rest of the Chain play songs from their adventures. He did try to play an Ocarina but he accepted the fact that he's just not a person for playing instruments. Even though he lost his memory, he does remember some ballads and Champions' themes from his time, so he sometimes tries to hum the tune for one of the Chain members to play it. Ofc humming it and playing it isn't the same, but sometimes they were able to get it right.

Legend:

He says he's kind of an insomniac, but he actually has somniphobia (phobia of falling asleep) I don't think i have to explain that part. But when he does accidentally fall asleep, he wakes up pretty well in the morning and hates the fact when he realizes he fell asleep. To add a bit of angst, he once had a nightmare in which he saw Marin again and it made him so happy, but it was a nightmare... In which... *drumroll*... He "killed" Marin again. He woke up in the middle of the night with that nightmare in tears, his face was actually completely wet. Luckily, Rulie was the one who was on the nighttime watch then so Leg did have a bit of relief with that. He didn't want to talk about it and Rulie completely understood, so he just offered some comfort and stayed on the watch together that night.

He sometimes twirls the pink strand of his hair around his finger. He does it sometimes when he ponders or just when he's bored. Others (cough Wars cough) like to tease him that that's a girl's thing but Leg just sighs dramatically and ignores. He says it helps him think better and so far it came out quite true.

Hyrule:

When Leg had pink hair, he was curious as heck. He kept asking questions but Leg just brushed him off. When he realized that Leg won't reveal anything, he decided to have a bit fun with it like everyone else. Maybe surprising maybe not but he also loved to tease him by calling him a pink head. Aware that he's Leg's bestie, he knew that he'll be the only one who wont get yelled at and cussed at form Legend. So he had his good time.

He has fairy wings but he hides them well. They're folded under his croptop. In that one update he did take his tunic off but not his croptop to not reveal the wings. If he takes of the croptop the wings will unfold back to full size which he doesn't want to happen.

Four:

He can hear the colors in his head that sometimes it gives him migraines and sometimes doesn't even let him sleep. It sometimes pisses him off sm that he just snaps and splits. Speaking of those migraines, when he doesn't sleep, he stays awake and talks with the colors. It's a pretty neat way of stress relief. Vio sometimes asks him to check on Shadow for him but so far he didn't get any response. His shadow is just stoic like a regular one. (This is bcuz im not sure if Shadow is canon to LU or not, i do have a slightly different one for the ones that believe Shadow is in LU)

Four's eye color changes depending on which color is having the most impact. His usual eye color is brown but it changes quite a lot. When he's frustrated or in a serious fight: Blue. When he's determined and planning, acting like a leader: Green. When he's showing his sensitive side and being caring for others: Red. When he's lost in thought or having a deep discussion: Violet. It's not rare to be more than one color. And sometimes even all four colors can be present, that's a mixture of emotions :D

Wind:

Since he does have the Wind Waker, he LOVES to prank the rest of the Chain. Mostly pulling Wars scarf over his face or pulling Leg's hat off. It's hilarious to him bcuz most of the time he gets away with it. Time found out about this and once they pulled out a grand prank together with the Song of Storms and the Wind Waker. It almost resulted into a tornado but Wind doesn't regret it at all. His best and favorite prank so far.

He sometimes gets reninded of the Outset Island (is that the name of his home island? The one he grew up on? ) When he gets reninded of it he also gets reninded of Aryll and his grandma. Malon's hospitality and motherly nature also reminded him of his grandma which later made hin quite sad. The chain was able to offer comfort and Malon felt a bit guilty for bringing him such memories, but ofc since he's also a hero he said that it's not her fault and that he doesn't mind.

I think that's it :D Sorry if any of these have typos i don't feel like rereading all this lol XD Some of these might be canon im not sure and some might be similar to someone else's idk. Also some of these were literally cooked and just randomly appered in my mind thanks to your ask so thx for that ^^ i love making hcs so i hope this distracts you❣

Tysm for asking i love to yap about these nine gremlins <3

[tw1l1te]

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 13

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Dorks in love, SMUT, NSFW, 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

₊˚✩⊹

“I think my Zelda would like to know.”

“Yeah, I know, she’s an expert on Hylian history, but this is, like, unheard of, even for a fanatic of history like me.”

Wild looks out onto Hyrule Field, the wind starting to pick up a bit. You and the Chain were making your way towards Hyrule Castle, which was less than a day’s walk from your location if you didn’t stop for inns or camp.

“...Are you not freaked out by this? I mean, your entire destiny and 'hero’s purpose' relies on the balance of a triforce… not a tetraforce.”

Wild shrugs, “I mean, I wouldn’t consider myself a blind follower of Hylia, or whatever was set in stone for me, but it is strange.”

You nod, you knew some of the boys weren’t too keen on the idea of Hylia and her ideologies. After all, almost everything they’ve been through was directly from her prophecy.

“You think the castle has spare clothing or something? I can feel my entire body chaffing from how torn up my clothes are.”

Wild smiles, “You… do know you could’ve just asked me for some spare clothes, right? We’re the same height, practically.”

“Yeah, I know, but I feel bad. I don’t like taking stuff from you guys.”

“I’m offering.”

“Still.”

~

By the time your group made it to the gates of Hyrule Castle, it was downpouring. You could feel the clothes sticking to your skin, your bones practically shivering. You felt terrible for Twilight, his pelt probably made his clothing ten times heavier.

“Din’s tits, I’m freezing.” Legend mumbles, wringing out his tunic on the floor. His bangs were stuck on his forehead, the pink hue turning brighter when wet. 

Zelda suddenly enters the room, eyes widening at the state of your party.

“Oh goddesses! Link, what happened?”

“We were caught in the storm, came out of nowhere. Do you have any spare clothes and blankets?”

She nods, ushering him to follow her. 

Four walks up to you, sitting down on the carpet next to you. You don’t say much, but the silence is comfortable. You look around the large room, the walls lined with shelves that reach the ceiling, each filled to the brim with ancient Hylian literature. The wall in front of you had an ornate fireplace, a godsend in your freezing, wet clothing.

You look over to one of the velvet couches, Time and Twilight sitting down and ridding themselves of their heavier armor. You don’t realize your staring until Time makes eye contact with you, causing you to appear very interested in the fireplace. He smiles to himself, busying himself with polishing his chestplate.

You look over at Twilight, noticing he’s still in his soaking pelt.

“Oh for the- Twilight get that wet pelt off of you, you’re gonna freeze or die of stinkyness.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

You give him a look.

“Okay okay, here. Don’t put it too close to the fireplace though.”

You nod. You set it out flat on the stone floor, making sure it wasn’t too close to the embers, but close enough that it would dry relatively quickly.

“Y/n! I’ve brought some spare clothes for you, Link mentioned that you needed them. You can change in the room down the hall, first door on your left.” Zelda smiles. You thank her, taking the bundle of clothes to the other room while the boys get warm and comfortable.

Closing the door behind you, you shed your layers, wincing at the cold nip of the air on your bare skin. You quickly change to avoid someone walking in the room, bundling up your wet clothes to warm in front of the fireplace.

You can already hear some of the boys talking as you walk back into the main room.

“Goddesses, you smell like wet dog, Twi-”

“One more dog joke and I swear-”

“Oh, hey Y/n!” Wind exclaims, making everyone shut up.

“Hey, squirt, you guys all warming up?”

He nods, pulling you along so you could join the circle. Before you sit down, you lay out your wet clothes in front of the fire, making sure your panties are somewhat discrete so you don’t get any comments from the others. Not like they would say anything anyways.

Time, Wars and Twilight were all on the couch, armor and outer layers shed. Hyrule, Legend and Four were elbows deep in some card game, a few rupees and trinkets in the middle used for gambling.

Sky was wrapped up in a blanket, reading some book that he picked from the shelves. Time was looking into the fire, embers reflecting in his eye. 

You sit in between Wind and Sky, placing your chin on Sky’s shoulder to look over what he was reading. You couldn’t read Hylian, much less Ancient Hylian, so you were just there for support.

“Whatcha readin’?” you softly ask, eyes glued to the writing on the pages.

“Some love story about a knight and a girl. Quite a long story though, so I definitely won’t finish it.”

The evening continues, the only sound being the fire crackling and some of the boys talking. At some point, Zelda brings dinner for you and the Chain, pulling Link away again to talk about something. No doubt about your discovery, but you choose to ignore the strange feeling in your pit for now.

After finishing your dinner, you climb onto the couch in Wars’ spot, as he joined the enticing card game on the floor with the others. You were in between Twilight and Time, already feeling the call of sleep. Before you doze off, you feel someone drape a soft blanket on top of you, your senses drowning out the rest of the waking world.

~

“Do you think they know?”

“Know what, Pup?”

“Our… attraction towards them.”

The Chain’s banter and games have since died down ever since you fell asleep, Wind cuddling to Hyrule on the floor.

“I think they know, in some sense. Not fully.”

Sky sighs, deep in thought. He suddenly speaks up, eyes on the fireplace.

“I think we should tell them, before something happens or if they leave. Assuming from what everyone’s been saying, it seems like we all feel the same towards them.”

The Vet scoffs, “Yeah and we’ll scare them away.”

“What makes you think that?”

“How would you react if 8 men told you they have the hots for you?”

Sky blinks, he has a point. It would overwhelm you.

Time clears his throat, “Although I agree with the Veteran, I do think we need to be honest with them. We would be hypocrites if we lied to them or made them believe an illusion.”

Nods go around the group, each one lost in thought.

“From what you told us, Old man, it seems like they already have romantic interest for some of us and have hinted towards the others. I don’t see why we shouldn't tell them some time soon, perhaps at the Winter Festival.”

Wild looks at you, eyes soft. 

“I care for them so much. So so much. I’m just so scared of losing my friendship with them. They mean the world to me.”

The Old man nods.

“They mean everything.”

~

You wake up with a jolt. You don’t feel panicked, so you didn’t have a nightmare. Weird.

You tried going back to sleep, but after tossing and turning for what felt like an eternity, you decided to get up and move around a little. You tiptoe out of the room, leaving the door propped open for when you decided to return.

Walking down the hallway, you hum quietly a song from back home. It makes you homesick, but it makes the castle feel less eerie. Trailing your fingers along the stone walls, you look up to see very interesting paintings.

They were portraits of each era’s hero and princess.

You chuckle, this was so unlike them. Each one was resembling their appearance in game, only with minor differences. Time was younger, which was so strange to see after spending over a year with them. Twilight didn’t have his markings, Legend’s hair wasn’t pink, and Wind still wore his green hero’s garb.

Their past lives. Lives that aren’t forgotten. Lives that still loom over them. 

Suddenly, your vision is blocked. Someone is behind you.

“What the-”

“Shh. You don’t want to wake the others, do you?”

“Time?”

He just sighs in relief. You turn to look at him, his face just barely being visible from the lanterns lighting the hallway.

“What are you doing up? You know Zelda’s guards take watch, right?”

“I know, I couldn’t sleep. I presume you’re in the same situation, no?”

You nod, suddenly hearing footsteps from the opposite end of the hallway. Not wanting to end up being caught in a misunderstood situation, you grab Time’s wrist and run to a small alcove just at the end of the alcove, hidden under a heavy tapestry.

“Sorry, I-uh didn’t wanna deal with him.” You whispered, panting slightly from running.

Now that you can focus, you realize the alcove is way smaller than you thought. Time was practically caging you in, feeling his breath on your forehead.

“I’m not.”

“Wh-”

He propped you up on one of his knees, his hand pulling you in by your neck, interlocking his lips with yours. This kiss felt desperate, like he had been waiting for days, weeks. Well, you suppose he has.

You pull away panting, looking at where you thought he was based on his breath, “What’s gotten into you? Needy all of a sudden-”

He shuts you up again, pulling your hips closer to him until there was practically no space between the two of you. At some point he starts kissing downwards, inhaling your scent in the junction between your neck and shoulders, exhaling reverberating through his chest. The action in itself felt possessive, dominating. It was addicting.

“Can I…”

“Please.”

Without a word, he continued mouthing over your exposed skin, still carefully holding you on his lap like he did oh so many moons ago. 

He slid one hand slightly under your tunic, warm hands pawing at your skin.

“You’re so warm. So soft.”

He slid his hands back down, flipping you around so your back was to his chest. His hands dragged back under your tunic going upwards to your breasts. Thank god you hardly ever wore a bra anymore.

He rolled your hardened buds between his thumb and pointer finger, you whimpering slightly when he tugged lightly on each of them. His palms firmly cupped your chest while he played with your nipples, chuckling lowly in your ear.

“You like that, hm?”

You just whimpered loudly in response, light grinding on his legs. He shushed you quietly, reminding you of the guards just down the hall.

He kept one of his hands on your chest, trailing the other down to your trousers, unlacing the cord that held them up. He slowly started rubbing small circles over your clothed heat, teasing you.

“Time, stop teasing-ah!”

“Say my name, darling. Please.”

“Ti-”

“No. My name.”

He tilts your chin up, the highlights of his eyes being the only thing you can see in the dark alcove. You can almost make out his half-lidded gaze drinking in your form.

“Link. Link, please- fuck!”

He slips two fingers under your panties, rubbing sensual circles over your bundle of nerves. 

“Good girl. Such a good girl. Be nice and quiet for me, hm?”

You nod, biting your lip as he continues his touches. He then slides his fingers into you, stretching you open with his thicker digits. When was the last time you’ve been touched like this? Almost two years-

Time nudged his fingers deep in you, hitting the spongy spot that made you keel over in pleasure. He licked the shell of your ear, cooing at your desperate noises, like music to his ears.

In just a few moments, you can feel the knot in your lower stomach tightening, your head starting to feel dizzy from how euphoric you felt. Time was like a drug. Addicting.

“L-link I’m so close oh my god-”

“I can tell, my little Mouse. You going to cum all over my fingers? Such a dirty girl.”

With a silent scream, you buck your hips up, cumming all over Time’s fingers. He firmly held your hips in place, not letting you go, pushing you over the edge. He slowly pulls his fingers out just as the overstimulation sets in, a pathetic whimper leaving your lips from the emptiness you felt.

You panted, calming down from your high. You reached up to brush your fingers through Time’s hair, his forehead slumping onto your shoulder.

“This was-hah, not what I was expecting for tonight.”

He hummed, pressing a firm kiss to your shoulder.

“As much as I would love for us to continue, you need to sleep. We can continue where we left off… another time, if you’d like.”

You pause.

This wasn’t a one-time thing?

Smiling to yourself, you mumble “I’d love that, Link.”

You press a kiss to his lips, taking a few extra moments to savor his musk and the warmth of his chest. Once you pulled away, you fix your tunic and pants, brushing through your hair to seem less disheveled. 

“Goodnight, Link. I’ll... see you later.”

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

₊˚✩⊹

[16mistypaw]

@skyloftian-nutcase Thank you for providing comfort stories for me yesterday, here's one for you in return ❤️

-

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60521602/chapters/160702309#workskin

-

Twilight stepped out of his car, keys in hand as he fumbled through the keychain for his house key. He heard shuffling on the other side of the door, and as soon as it opened a furry bundle of energy slammed into his legs. He crouched down, accepting wet doggy kisses and scratching Wolfie's ears.

Time and Malon had mostly taken turns caring for the wolf-dog the past few days, Twilight far too exhausted from an extended work stretch to do much more than greeting scratches before heading to bed to pass out before doing it all over again.

He stood, nudging Wolfie back inside and closing the door behind him. The place was strangely quiet, with Time and Malon at work and Wild gone camping for the weekend with Hyrule. Despite the empty house, the smell of food permeated the air. Malon had been the last to leave for the morning, barely an hour between her leaving and him getting home.

Making his way to the kitchen, he found breakfast in the microwave and an insulated grocery bag on the counter. Tapping the microwave to reheat the food, he checked the bag to see it filled with several packed meals. A beep redirected his attention, grabbing the reheated food to sit and eat. And if his breakfast was shared with the puppy by his feet, Malon didn't need to know. Something about ‘people food is not for animals’ and all that.

Placing his now empty plate in the sink, he grabbed a travel mug and poured the rest of the lukewarm coffee from the pot into it. The bag on the counter was hooked onto one arm, while he wrangled Wolfie into his harness with the other. Then they were off, piling back into the car to make a food delivery.

Time had been reluctant to ask the favor, knowing Twilight would be exhausted after work, but Twilight had easily agreed after they found out that Sky had been sick for several days.

Before long they turned onto the long, narrow drive to Sky's house, and Wolfie perked up in his seat. By the time he brought the car to a stop the puppy was practically bouncing in excitement, knowing whose house they were at. He didn't even bother putting the leash back on, letting Wolfie jump out and race to the door while he gathered his things.

A knock on the door didn't gain any response, even though Time had said he'd let Sky know someone would be over. The door was unlocked though, so Twilight let himself in, Wolfie immediately taking off down the hall. A muffled shout of surprise sounded moments later, and he hurriedly kicked his shoes off on the mat to follow his dog to Sky's room.

“Twi?!” Sky called again, attempting to push Wolfie off him. But Wolfie was large for a puppy, and lay across Sky's back, effectively pinning him.

“Wolfie, down!” Twilight ordered. He was grateful he was training Wolfie to be a therapy dog, because Wolfie obeyed immediately, hopping off the bed to sit beside it instead. “Sorry about that.”

“S'lright.” Sky mumbled, pushing himself over to free his face and look at Twilight. He started coughing, only stopping when he ran out of breath with a raspy wheeze. Twilight helped him sit up, adjusting his pillow so he could sit comfortably against the headboard. Sky continued wheezing, unable to properly catch his breath.

Twilight glanced around, snatched the inhaler off the dresser, and shook it briefly before placing it in Sky's hand. Sky took a moment to steady his breathing as much as he could, then pressed the inhaler to his lips, taking two deep breaths. He held his breath for a moment, coughing again once he released it. It had helped somewhat though, while his breathing was still shallow, it was at least a bit more steady.

“Thanks.” Sky set it aside on the nightstand, which Twilight now realized had an open textbook with a bottle of cold medicine sitting on the pages.

“Yer studying? Like this?”

“Renewal’s coming up soon. Signed up for a class to get my CE's in.”

“Fair enough.” As if their line of work didn't keep them busy enough, they had to keep up with CE's on top of everything else. “Time and Malon send well wishes and lunch.” Twilight reached down to pull a container of chicken and rice from the bag, along with napkins and plastic utensils.

“Oh nice, she made it with broth.” The chicken and chicken broth flavored rice didn't stand a chance as Sky practically inhaled it. Knowing him, he had probably been living off crackers since falling sick.

After lunch and another swig of medicine from the bottle, Sky insisted on trying to study a bit more. So he collected the dishes and trash as Sky pulled the book to his lap. He suspected it would put him to sleep faster than anything else would.

Sure enough by the time he had finished cleaning up, Sky was barely awake, textbook sliding off his lap. The book was gently pulled from loose fingers, and a spare pillow located to lean Sky against in a semi-upright position. Sleeping sitting up wasn't comfortable for anyone, but laying down would only cause the congestion to build up again into another breathing attack.

“Twi?” Sky mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Get some rest.”

With that short exchange Sky somehow managed to nod off while sitting up, Wolfie climbing back onto the bed to lay on Sky's lap. Satisfied Sky would be okay for a bit, Twilight left him to rest, practically collapsing on the living room couch.

Sky wouldn't mind if he crashed here for a bit, and Wolfie would alert him if Sky needed attention. He clumsily pulled the throw blanket off the back of the couch, and was out before he knew it.

[monpalace]

what are the wolf thoughts. sharing is caring.

the thoughts were this,,,, and dilf twi,,,,, combined,,,, so tbh i dont think i really need to say anything for legal reasons 😁 so instead have my very incoherent thoughts on semi-feral (furry)! protective (territorial)! twi‼️

content warning/s.. this is me rambling. written with afab/fem reader in mind (BUT i think i kept it vague, so its more of a gn reader), possessiveness/territorial nonsense, not written with linked universe in mind, y'all remember the citrus scale? i do. (ending dips into lime territory)

i like to imagine that link kept some of his more inhumane traits after the events of twilight princess were all said and done. whether it be a parting gift from the twilight, or a side effect that came along with being a wolf, link never did enough investigating to find out what stayed, what left, or why.

his nose was better, so he could catch whenever a crop was bound to rot or flourish, so good for his stomach.

his eyes were better, so he could catch whenever the kids were making a fuss about something, so good for his mental well-being.

his ears were better, so he could hear whenever his herd were riling themselves up from the other side of the village, so good for his pockets.

all-in-all, he didn't really care to get rid of the side effects if they were going to be such a benefit to his work life— and even better for his personal and love life.

alongside rotting crops and his own post-work stench (yes, he is very self-ware, kudos to midna), link can smell a change you. whether it be a change in your emotions (pheromones were a tricky thing) or wherever you had wandered off after a particularly bad disagreement between the two of you— as rare as that was.

(he's been more ill-tempered as of late. seldom to you, more often to the adult villagers. always over something stupid like to little on an order of food and winter clothes not being thick enough.)

(something, something, the wolf has yet to fully leave him behaviorally, he guesses.)

it was a particularly bad spell between the two of you. link doesn't even remember what it was about and he wasn't keen on doing so. it was late and all he wanted was to apologize so you would return home, he could take being kicked to the couch if it meant you were in the vicinity.

his nose leads him to a darker part of the forest. the trees felt like they moved everytime you turned your back to them, working with the monsters to further trap you inside the woods.

bulbins always had a nasty smell; especially when it muddled and ruined yours.

it's a blur to link, really. it was like he was black out drunk, except rather than alcohol, something else ran through his veins.

there's the catching of your scent, the sprint to the forest, the blackout, and then there's you.

(you. you. you. youyouyouyouyouyouyouyouperfectyouwonderfulyouthereasonhestillbreathesyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyou—)

you're staring up at him with those big doe eyes of yours when he feels some semblance of himself again. he feels less like an animal and more like a person when he sees the way you're sitting against the tree, trembling, but not from fear.

he wipes away the stray bulbin blood as he checks you over for injuries, biting back gags of disgust and the urge to clean you then and there (mark. bite. claim. mark, bite, claim. matematematematemate—).

the way he feels is visceral when he sees your bruising skin, scrapes, and gashes.

it's suffocating when he pulls you into his arms, his tight grip making it hard to take a comfortable exhale. his face is buried against the side of your neck, a spot he's been more and more keen on paying attention to since he's returned home from his adventure.

his breathing grows heavy as he finally drops from his squat to kneel before you, hands traveling wherever they can reach after they pull you into his lap. they're heavy and would be overwhelming if you weren't used to the behavior.

his teeth make an appearance just as his hands make a dive beneath your clothes. he nips and nibbles the expanse of your skin while his hands squeeze whatever handfuls of flesh he's able to reach, the warmth and give of it working to further ground him.

(you were here, with him. alive. you loved him. you wouldn't be letting him handle you like this if you didn't love him. all he wanted was you. his spouse. his better half. the flame to his melting candle. the furnace that kept his home warm.)

(his mate.)

"link," you call when his nips turns into full on biting-and-sucking while his squeeze evolve into gropes and— goddesses, your voice is so angelic when you speak, he stops everything to stare up at you. the blues of his eyes barely visible with the way his pupils expand.

"i want to go home."

and home is where he takes you, hands gripping your thighs as he locks your legs around his hips and carries you home, lips pressing kisses to that spot on your neck that he can't get enough of, canines occasionally reintroducing themselves when he starts to feel greedy again.

[milquetoast27]

THE SHERLOCK HOLMES DOUBLE-BEDDED ROOM CONSPIRACY

I've seen a little talk of this online, and I must share my most recent Sherlockian scholarship.

Twice in the canon, Holmes and Watson are described sleeping in a 'double-bedded room'. There are two definitions for this term, for a room:

having two beds

furnished with a double bed.

Ignoring all other clues, I firmly interpret this to have the latter meaning in both cases, in 'The Man With the Twisted Lip' and 'The Valley of Fear'.

Holmes tells Watson in TWIS, "my room at The Cedars is a double-bedded one," and later says that, "Mrs. St. Clair has most kindly put two rooms at my disposal." He says both to Watson in assurance that there will be space for him at The Cedars, seemingly leaving the choice up to him.

Watson then later again confirms, "a large and comfortable double-bedded room had been placed at our disposal." This indicates that Watson has made the choice to sleep in the same room as Holmes (which is honestly enough for me, but we must go on!)

In the same paragraph, Watson states "Holmes wandered about the room collecting pillows from his bed." I was concerned that my theory may have been debunked here. HOWEVER!

"His bed" does not necessarily mean there is more than one, as it was very much likely 'his bed' before Watson began lodging there. Watson (bless his soul) may also be more likely to refer to it as Holmes's bed as he is not the guest actually occupying the room and using it as a base. This early in canon, Watson is still a little shy about accompanying Holmes and therefore lean more towards this perspective.

Another perspective could be that Watson considers the bed occupying the OTHER room to be 'his', and is fully acknowledging the fact that he is taking up what is Holmes's space, although I consider this less likely back in 1889.

In this time, Holmes also never occupies a bed. He creates a (cosy) fort for himself and smokes through the night instead. Why? Because he was too shy to sleep with Watson.

Why didn't he just take the other room? Think about it. Watson has welcomed himself to sleep in Holmes's double-bedded room. Wouldn't it be awkward if he now moved to sleep in the other one? Additionally, the whole reason he has brought Watson with him was to have him in his presence - not to mention a great opportunity to watch him sleep (which I am almost certain he has done).

Thankfully, my job for proving this in VALL is much simpler. In fact, Watson telling us that "the tall, lean figure inclined towards me," while he was in bed, suggests that, perhaps, Holmes was beginning to get into it?

In conclusion, I cannot prove definitively that they were indeed occupying double-beds, but any reader is 100% justified in believing so. The same goes for the reverse, and so any interpretation is completely valid >:)

[allthelovehes]

A game of UNO*

Summary: Harry and Y/N play a game of strip UNO. The rules are made up by Harry himself.

Pairing: bestfriend!harry x reader

Word count: 4K

Warnings: No actual smut, as in P in V. Just a LOT of tension and ofc sexual topics such as stripping, making out, boners etc.

A/N:  It's been soooo long since I last properly wrote something. So I'm so excited to have a brand new one-shot for y'all. Please let me know what you think!! Enjoy! <3

Masterlist

Like they say; as we mature, the relationship matures with us. And so does the friendship between Y/N and Harry. The countless weekends going out to pubs are now spent mostly in the comfort of their own homes playing board games and watching movies. Of course, they like to drink, and God they still drink quite a lot. But they don’t care for loud music and sweaty people all around them.

Nearly every weekend they come together and spend time like they always do. Downing a few bottles of white, munching on a delicious charcuterie platter, and just enjoying each other’s company. Today was like no other. Harry perched down in the corner of the comfy sofa and Y/N is getting the glasses ready for the delicious liquid.  

“Can we watch The Notebook tonight?” Y/N said as she walked into her living room with two wine glasses and the bottle of white she had been craving all day. Harry simply chuckles and gives her a judgemental look. “What?” She asks him.

“Haven’' we seen tha' movie like a billion times already?” He laughs. Secretly Harry is a sucker for a good romance movie and Y/N is all too familiar with his preferences. When they were both still in their teen years and just met in school, Y/N had never seen The Notebook before and Harry insisted she needed to see it.

“I mean yes, but you know I love this movie.” Y/N states, remote control in her hand to turn on the movie with a smirk on her face. She lets out a sneaky giggle, getting all comfy against his body stretched out on the sofa. Harry’s strong arm wraps around her body so naturally. His musky scent immediately relaxing her. 

Halfway through the movie, Harry gets bored. Each of them are two glasses of wine in and Harry is just ready for some action. He lifts his body off of the couch making Y/N whine at the loss of contact. He makes his way to your board game stash. His feet drag across the floor and his hips sway from left to right, dancing his way to the cabinet. She laughs at him, the dork.

“What are you doing?” She questions, he is so cute dancing around your living room with his glass in his hand. 

“I am done watching tha' movie, again. Wanna play a game.” He says with a mischievous smirk across his face. The little twinkle in his eyes tells her he really is up to no good. He opens the top drawer of the board game cabinet and pushes around some of the stuff in there. 

“Ah! There i’ is.” Harry chuckles. He turns around holding her pack of UNO in his right hand. He brings it back over to the coffee table and opens up the little box as he sits down on the floor. 

“You don’t want to watch a movie we’ve seen a billion times yet you do wanna play a game we have played a billion times?” She questions Harry, although she has a feeling that there’s a catch. The look on his face tells her he is not about to propose a simple game of UNO.

“See, you go' tha' wrong love.” The smirk on his face is only growing bigger and bigger. “There's a twis'.” The scared look on Y/N’s face is priceless to Harry. She grabs the remote control to press pause, putting all her attention on the man in front of her.

“How abou’ we add some spicy rules to the game?” The room falls silent aside from the heavy breathing escaping her lips. 

“What do you mean, Harry?” She whispers.

“I thin’ you know exactly wha’ I mean, dear.” He says as he starts shuffling the cards. “Okay so, since it’s jus' the two of us, we shouldn’' make too many additions. How abou' every time you can match a numbered card or wild card with the mos' recently played card, the other person has to take off one clothing item.” His gaze never leaves her eyes. He starts dealing the cards as if he expects her to just go along with his plan. “Let’s also say for every +2 played, the other person also has to take off one item instead of drawing two cards.” And that’s how the rules are played out.

“I don’t know, Harry.” She says looking down at the cards as she picks them up in her hand one by one. Her first card is a yellow 1. She looks at the second card before she adds it to her hand, a red reverse card. The third card she picks up has her widening her eyes, a yellow +2. She picks up the rest of the cards and she joins Harry on the floor beside the coffee table. She has already decided to play along. 

“What if this ruins our friendship?” She asks.

“Then we’ll stop bein’ friends.” Harry chuckles, lust covering his eyes.

“We can’t stop being friends just because of a game of UNO, Harry.” 

“Wha' if afterwards, you don’' wan’ be friends and you want’ be more than tha’.” The flirty smirk on his face is weakening her entire body. Fuck. She’s had the longest crush on the man in front of her. Her whole body is yearning to be close to him. Of course, she wants to be way more than that.

“This would have to be the most seductive game of UNO for that to happen.” She tries to shrug off the nerves in her body. Not really doing a great job at just that.

“Shu' up and play your firs' card.”

Harry flips over the top card of the deck. A green 1 laying flat on the table. She takes a look at the cards in her hand. There’s no green so she decides on a yellow 1. She places down the card and a hissing sound coming from Harry’s lips pulls her attention to his eyes. The look on his face looks like pure mischief. His long fingers drag through his cards. He pinches one of them in between his thumb and pointer finger with a big smirk on his lips. God, he looks so kissable. 

She takes a big chug from her glass. Harry slams down his card, showing the yellow 1 matching your card perfectly. 

“I would’ve never guessed I’d be getting you ou' of your clothes so quickly.” His voice was low and husky. Her wine glass barely touches the table before she brings it back to her lips for another chug making Harry chuckle at her nerves. 

She thinks for a second before she hooks her fingers on the welt of her right sock. Her knees press into her chest and she takes both socks off, one by one. 

“Hold on, this ain’' fair. You’re wearing more clothes than I am.” Harry states as she see his brain calculating. They’re both wearing socks, jeans and a T-shirt. But Harry refers to what’s underneath that. Suddenly she feel thankful for deciding on wearing a bra today.

“Well, I guess that’s just my advantage of being forced to strip for you.” She shrugs.

“I did no' force you.” He pouts making her giggle. She looks at the table to check back in with the card that’s last been played before diving back into her cards. She can’t help but let the slightest smirk appear on her lips before she plays the yellow +2 in her hands. 

“Fuck.” Harry laughed. “Off with the socks we go.” He continues as he takes both of them off in a swift motion. He adds them to where her socks are piled up together. 

Harry looks in his cards. There is a red +2 in his hand which he could just play right now but he decides to keep that one in his hand for a little longer. Instead, he takes out a yellow 5.

Y/N sighs, feeling relieved that she doesn’t have to get rid of any more clothes right now. The anxious yet thrilling feeling is riling her up. She have never felt any excitement like this before. Harry and Y/N have been friends since forever and she has had the biggest crush on him for nearly as long. Her eyes always lingered a bit too long when they went to swimming together and he was in just his swimming trunks. Or the goosebumps his touch left on her skin as his fingers danced along her arm as a small sign of affection. Friendly affection, but it still made her feel all sorts of ways.

Both of them play a couple of cards before Harry has a big smirk plastered across his face again. Uh oh. His fingers stride along his cards again before he picks one. He places a red 7 on top of your blue 7. 

“Wouldn’' i' have been fun if your seven was blue too?” He says as he scooches a bit closer, their legs now touching. 

“Stooop, you make me nervous.” She blushes.

“Don’' be. It’s jus' me.” Harry reassures her and wraps his empty hand around her ankle. His thumb moved in soft strokes up and down. She knows he tries to calm her down but every stroke of his thumb is sent straight to her clit. 

Y/N plays a red reverse card. Allowing her to play another card since it’s a two-player game of UNO. She’s all out of red so she draws a card, a red 4. She places it down and look back up to Harry who still has his hand on her ankle. 

“Isn’' tha' fortunate?” Harry teases. 

“Just from you saying that, I know there’s nothing fortunate about it for me.” She mumbles as she frightens the next card that he will put on the table. 

Harry has a twinkle in his eyes looking at the card in his hand. The red +2 is going to get rid of her first clothing item that’ll actually reveal some skin. Harry too had been pining over her for years. He started loving her in a bit more than just a friendly kind of way around the age of 16. Now 13 years later, nothing had changed. Both of them had been dating people, trying to distract themselves from the massive crushes on each other. But at the end of the day, they always came back to each other.

He finally places his card down, an excited look on his face. But she quickly takes her green +2 and smack it down on the table.

“Hah!” She yelps. “That makes two items for you to be gone!” 

“Nah, ah love. Haven’' you read the rules before?” He states. “We both have to get rid of one item.” Harry smirks. Mr know it all, why does he know all rules of UNO? Probably because they have played it so many times.

“+2 plus +2 equals drawing four cards. Simple.” She argues but Harry already pulled out the rules from the box. He reads out the bit about how when your opponent plays a +2 card, you have to draw two cards and afterwards may continue your turn. Y/N is kinda sad that Harry isn’t going to get rid of both his jeans AND t-shirt.

Harry takes hold of the hem of his shirt with both his arms crossed before he drags the fabric over his head. In the meantime, she stands up to unbutton her jeans. She gets distracted by the beautiful sight in front of her. His abs are gorgeously on display with his tattoos on there like a piece of art. Harry had always been hot. But he started working out with a personal trainer roughly two years ago and he got so muscular after that. 

“Wha' are you doing?” Harry asks as he throws his shirt on top of both of their socks. He softly chuckles at her eyes staring down at his torso. 

“Ehm, sorry. I was taking off my jeans.” She states, causing Harry to groan. He wagged a disapproving finger. “What?” She asks him.

“Should’ve jus' taken off your shirt.” He mumbles before he picks up his cards from the table. His eyes go from the discard pile on the table to the cards in his hand. There are no more green cards in his hand so he draws a card. Luckily it’s a green one so he places it on the pile. 

“Hmnf, nah. I’ll keep my shirt on for a bit longer.” She mumbles softly. Being shirtless always makes her feel so exposed. Her insecurities would peak without a shirt so she’d rather keep it on for as long as possible. Harry notices how she tries to hide herself. His hand finds its place back on her ankle and slowly travels up to her calf, stroking up and down.

“Y’ have no idea how god damn beautiful you are, don'' you?” He reassures and she tries to shrug it off.

Both of them have a few cards left in hand but none of them are useful. They draw a few cards, and some of them are played immediately. Y/N look at her cards and forges a plan. With a smirk on her face, she plays a wild card allowing her to change the active colour to blue. But she has instant regret when she sees a smirk on Harry’s face that’s even wider than her own. 

His fingers pick a card from his hand but before he places it down he tugs it back and picks up another one to play. A simple blue 9 lays down on the table. But the twinkle in his eyes never left.

She sighs and take a big sip of wine to empty her glass. She places her cards down on the table and gets up to grab the bottle of wine in the fridge.

“Cute undies.” Harry coos since her shirt doesn’t reach past her bum. 

She comes back with the cold bottle and fills up both of their glasses, emptying the second bottle of the evening. The glasses are a bit full but who cares? She places the bottle down on the coffee table and sits back in her spot.

The plan she made a few minutes ago still works, she plays a blue reverse card allowing her to take another turn since it’s just the two of them playing. Next, she plays a blue skip card to grant her another turn. And last up she plays a plain blue 6. During all three of these cards, the smirk on Harry’s face grew back more comprehensive and she just knows what is coming. 

The blue +2 that hits the table was expected, and is followed by a shout of UNO!

“Fuck.” She mumbles and takes a gulp from her glass. “Fine.” She continues before she grabs the hem of her shirt. She drags it out, trying to hold off for as long as possible. But the anticipation is turning Harry on even more. Of course, he has seen her in a bikini before, but this is different. This feels different.

Her shirt is added to the growing pile in front of the sofa. Harry notices how she feels a bit uncomfortable. Her eyes avoid his and she is unsure where to actually look. His hand reaches out for her and slides from her upper arm all the way down to her hand. He holds onto it for a little while, squeezing ever so softly.

“You really are the pretties' thing I’ve ever seen.” He reassures her by giving her the exact confidence boost she needed. 

After Y/N plays her second to last card, Harry is able to finish the game by playing his very last card. Leaving him in his jeans and boxers and her in just her bra and panties. 

“Let’s go for another round.” She states and already starts collecting all cards to shuffle them. Harry chuckles at her newly gained confidence. He is so ready to play a second round. 

She deals the cards, places the deck back on the table, and flip over the top card of the deck. A yellow 4 is laying on the table. 

“Since I won las' round, you may star' this round." 

She places down a green 4 on top of the yellow one on the table. A simple but steady start, she thinks. 

“Oh shi’.” Harry says and places down the green 4 he already had in his hand, ready to play. “I’m so sorry, love. You don’t have to…” He adds, suddenly getting nervous at the realization he is finally going to see her topless after years of wondering and imagining what she’d look like underneath.

“The game’s the game.” She states and lets her hand travel to her back to unclasp her bra. Harry gulped, feeling more nervous than he ever had before in his life. His heart was pounding as he looked into her eyes and saw the unmistakable desire there. He had no idea what she is thinking but he is fascinated by her daringness.

He watches as she pushes the straps of her bra off of her shoulders and drops the garment to the ground. She lets out a deep sigh of pleasure as her breasts become the focus of his attention, and the look in his eyes tells her he wants her just as much as she wants him.

She feels incredibly sexy and alluring. For a brief moment, their eyes meet. She feels a strange and wonderful stirring in her stomach. Her cheeks flush, and she quickly looks away. At that moment, she just knows that she is in trouble.

Without saying anything, she swiftly moves on with the game by placing down her green 8. Harry can’t seem to keep his eyes away from her for too long, giving her an enormous confidence boost. 

Both of them place down a few more cards before she places down her Wild Draw 4 card and change the colour to blue. Harry draws his four cards and takes a good look at his cards. He’s having a hard time focusing on the game with the gorgeous sight in front of him. 

He places down two cards in one go, a blue skip causing him to have a second turn, and a blue 5. 

She places down her blue 8 and shout UNO! Harry looks through his cards again to find any card that may cause her to not finish the game. A Wild Draw 4, a +2, anything at all. But all he has is a blue 2.

“Oh my god, Harry. What are the odds.” She chuckles. 

“Wha’d you mean?” 

She places down a blue 2 on top of his. She’s been waiting for this moment ever since he took his shirt off. Her thoughts have been flooded with the idea of him naked in front of her. It’s all she’s been thinking about for the past years. 

“Well, shi’. Y’ win the game and I have to take off my jeans?” He laughs. Without another word, he gets up, unbuttons his jeans and zips down his fly. His thumbs hook into the waistband of his jeans to pull them down painfully slow. A soft sign, nearly a moan is heard when his bulge is released from his tight pants. Ever since she had to get rid of her shirt Harry’s cock started hardening beneath him. 

She gasps at the view in front of her. She makes it her mission to get him out of his boxers as soon as possible. The lust in her eyes is inevitable, not knowing where to look. His eyes? His hands, where he is pushing down his jeans? Or his bulge, which is honestly where she just wants to keep looking at.

Tension is rising and she can’t wait for him to add the last bit of his clothes to the growing pile. His jeans finally drop to the floor and he lifts his right foot trying to step out. His ankle gets stuck and she reaches out instinctively to hold the jeans down, helping him get out. She allows him to step out before she adds the denim to the pile of clothes. 

Harry sits back down close to her. Both their legs touch again but now theres no fabric in between holding back the skin to skin contact. She looks down at where her legs touch and look back up to him.

“Hi.” He says with a soft smile across his lips. God those lips, they have never looked more kissable. Or is it just her mind playing games? Her thoughts are all over the place. All she wants is to just push him over, straddle him and kiss him. Everywhere. 

“Hey.” She chuckles before a nervous laugh is heard from Harry’s side. Her eyes drop down to his boxers. He chose to wear navy blue Calvin Klein’s this morning and she is so thankful for his choice. The dark fabric accentuates his skin perfectly. An outline visible around his growing member. 

“Eyes up ‘ere, love.” He snorted as if he isn’t having the hardest time keeping his own eyes away from her tits. 

“Sorry.” She whispers before Harry holds out his hand for her to grab. His thumb dances on the back of your hand. Both of them are quiet for a little bit as they soak up each other. 

After what feels forever but actually are only 1,5 minutes, Y/N speaks up.

“Harry? What are we doing?” She questions him, still holding onto him as she looks their connected hands. 

“Hmn, I don’ know actually.” He replies. His free hand reaches with his forefinger for her chin and pushes her face up so she’d have to look in his eyes. “All I know is tha’ I want you. So, fucking, bad.”

Her eyes light up. She can’t believe he really admitted what he just said and without a second thought she gives in to her desire of just a few minutes ago. 

Y/N lets go of Harry’s hand and pushes him onto the floor by his shoulders. Simultaneously she climbs on top of him, causing a muted “oh” to fall from Harry’s lips. He is surprised by her actions and honestly, so is she. His hands grab her by her hips as she sits down on his tummy, avoiding contact with his aching cock. 

Their lips finally connect. Thirteen long years are coming together in this sweet and lustfull kiss. Harry’s right hand travels up and down her side as his left nestles into her hair. The two of them sink into the living room floor, both desperate for the connection they have been longing for. 

His opens his mouth and gently sucks Y/N’s lip between his. He lets go after a few seconds and licks softly over her bottom lip. Her heart races as her spine arches under his touch causing him to naturally pull her closer. She opens her mouth to allow her tongue to join his, going back and forth. 

She moans with pleasure and their tongues intertwine even more vigorously, entangling with one another in a desperate search for more pleasure. Each movement they make is somehow more tantalizing than the last. Their hands exploring each other's body with a deep hunger for more.

Y/N wishes this moment would last forever. She is scared of what might happens next, what if this is just a heat of the moment kind of kiss and they really can’t go back to being just friends. Or maybe that is exactly what Harry meant with his ‘Then we’ll just stop being friends’. 

Harry’s hand roam down her back. He moans a bit louder when he finally touches her bum. She feels a firm squeeze on her left cheek, ripping a moan from her thoat. Y/N bucks her hips instinctively at the sweet tingles in her core.

Their lips part for a second and she presses her forehead against his. Both of them are a panting mess, feeling completely out of this world. With Harry’s hand still squeezing her bottom he speaks up.

“How abou' we take this to the bedroom, love?” He whispers.

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