#he'd make sure she was out of the way before he tore their throats out with his teeth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

missvelvetsstuff · 5 months

Text

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter Notes: I'm really nervous with the direction my muse has taken with this story. I hope I can pull it off. LMK what you think, please.

Previous chapter:

"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"

Chapter 3

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Bucky's a jerk, Sharon Carter sucks

Cookie looked at Bucky with a deep exhaustion caused by researching all night and early morning briefings with the top agents to figure out what to do with Sharon while Bucky was her guard dog. Maria was ready to tear into him. Cookie cleared her throat to gain Maria's attention then made a small shake of her head to ask her to back down, Cookie knew she could handle Bucky by herself.

Maria nodded and left to sit in her office across the hall, leaving the door open just in case.

Cookie straightened her shoulders and sighed "How can I help you Sargent Barnes?"

Bucky glared at her breathing heavily "You know damn well how you can help me. Who the fuck do you think you are making accusations at Sharon like this?" He waved the report in her face until she grabbed it and tore it from his hands.

Holding the partially torn report Cookie stood up to her full height, her heels bringing her eye level with Bucky. She stared at him in his cold blue eyes to show him she wasn't intimidated by him, then walked around her desk to close the door "I don't think it's wise to leave the door open while we discuss top secret intelligence."

She returned to her chair "Please have a seat Sargent." took a deep breath and spoke calmly

"I think, no I'm damn sure I'm the lead east coast Intel analyst who was hand picked from Quantico by Nick Fury while you were still on ice with Hydra, who kept our intel operation running during the Blip while Nick Fury, Maria Hill and....hhmm, oh that's right, You, were all dust in the wind. None of my conclusions were specious and I followed the facts, without prejudice, as my job requires. This has less than nothing to do with your personal, ahem, entanglements. There's solid evidence to back up every claim."

Bucky shook his head "Bullshit. You've been acting put out since I rejected you and found a way to hurt me back. You obviously faked the proof. You better fucking retract this garbage and clear Sharon's name."

Cookie scoffed and shook her head "No Barnes. You're the one who lied to me and decided on your own to end our friendship but this has nothing to do with that." she turned away before he could respond and went into the filing cabinet behind her desk, pulling a thick folder from the top drawer then dropping it heavily on the desk.

"Here is all of the evidence that I have been compiling on the Power Broker since they showed on our radar during the Blip, and spent most of the night organizing. The pictures and the stack with a red paper clip all came in the mail from Latvia a few days ago, the envelope is attached, and was opened in front of Fury and Hill. The night before we received them I was on the phone with my top informant, the one who sent that package, who tried to tell me something about the power broker but was killed while on the phone. Before disconnecting a woman's voice told me to back off of the power broker or I'd be next." She played the recording of that call and others from the same informant.

Bucky shook his head "You've been doing this long enough, you could have made authentic looking evidence. Especially with all the AI stuff. Or had someone do it."

Cookie looked at him like he'd grown another head "Are you serious Barnes? You think I would ever intentionally risk the reputation and career that I've worked my ass off for my entire adult life, over a broken heart? You think that I would ruin someones life and risk legal repercussions on myself over a man? You know what this job means to me and what I've been through to get here."

Bucky hesitated with a pained look on his face and shook his head like he was trying to clear it. There was a voice in the back of his head, telling him this was all wrong but something made him push it down and keep going.

"Well, maybe one of your people is doing it. Are you even sure that informant is dead? Maybe the family is trying to get paid. Or the real power broker is smart enough to lead you to Sharon and you're all too willing to believe the worst because of me."

He paused for a minute "And I heard you call me a liar but I've never lied to you."

Cookie laughed "You sure about that? It's been awhile so I understand if your memory is failing. That morning? The last time you actually acknowledged me outside of work related, yeah you lied to me. Twice actually"

Bucky tried to remember back to that morning, something he tried to avoid because he knew he made one of the worst mistakes of his life. He shook his head to clear the image of her heartbroken face "Yeah I don't know what you're talking about."

Cookie scoffed "Of course you don't, I'm surprised you remembered my name when you came in here. First, you told me you weren't ready for a relationship but you jumped into one with Sharon before her car cooled down" Bucky opened his mouth to protest but she glared at him and he backed down "and second, you told me you loved me and wanted to stay friends but went to ignoring me before my tears dried."

She felt her eyes filling up and cursed "Fuck. You even started leaving the room if I was there. Do you know how it feels to have one of your so called best friends cut you out of their life like you were dog shit on their shoe?" She cleared her throat and wiped her tears.

"I would never frame someone, ever. No matter how I felt about them. Not even you."

Bucky stared at her then winced as though he was in severe pain and dropped his head into his palms before speaking again.

"Well something is going on somewhere because I know, in my gut that Sharon isn't the power broker. There's no way."

He picked his head up and looked at Cookie

"I'm not in a relationship with her, we're just friends. And I didn't lie, I was wrong. I thought I wanted to stay friends with you but I don't, I can't. You're always looking at me and making me feel guilty and I don't deserve that. Plus you've been nasty to Sharon since she got here, don't think she hasn't told me about the horrible comments you make to her."

Cookie laughed "This is the most we've spoken in months, I'm not doing anything to make you feel guilty. That's all on you. But Sharon has you all twisted around because she's the one making nasty comments to me."

Bucky bristled "I don't have anything to feel guilty for. I've done nothing wrong and Sharon wouldn't lie to me."

She shrugged "If you say so, I didn't say anything. Now I've given you the details and shown the evidence. What you do is on you."

Bucky stood up, winced again and shook his head "I don't know if you did it or someone you're working with but I do know someone is trying to frame Sharon and you're going along with it. I'll prove you're wrong, that's what I'm gonna do."

Cookie scoffed "Good luck with that, Barnes"

Bucky put his hands on her desk and leaned into her space, his voice quiet and cold "I'll prove you're doing this because of your jealousy and your job and reputation will be over."

Cookie spat at him "Go fuck yourself Barnes, if you think that poorly of me you obviously never knew me. I have never been anything less than thorough and professional. I guess I should be grateful you panicked and cut me out of your life before I let myself get too attached. Good luck with Carter and get the Hell out of my office."

She sat down and went back to the packets she was finishing.

Bucky stood and stared like he was expecting something to happen before turning around and stalking off to find Sharon.

He woke up in the dark, with Sharon curled into him and looked at his watch. 9pm? Not again, his last memory was yelling at Cookie after breakfast then finding Sharon but nothing after that. He decided he had enough and scheduled an appointment with medical in the morning to see if they could help him figure out why he kept losing time.

Cookie spent the rest of the day in more briefings with senior agents to discuss the Sharon Carter problem and how to negate it. Bucky Barnes attachment to Carter was discussed as well since he had already started causing trouble over the revelations and couldn't be trusted to do the right thing.

When she was asked why they couldn't just arrest Sharon and tranq Bucky if he caused a problem, Cookie told them about her concerns that Sharon had an ally in the intel department that needed to be weeded out before Sharon.

She was back in her office, cleaning up her desk for the day when Sharon Carter herself wandered in, sat down and waited expectantly for Cookie to speak.

"What can I do for you agent Carter? I'm a little busy."

Sharon smirked "I know what you're trying to do and I understand. You're in love with Barnes and he wants me. It sucks and I know you must be hurting but slandering me won't get him back. In fact he ran to me this morning to tell me what you were trying to do and wondering why you wanted to hurt him so bad. I told him I would work it out with you."

Her face turned nasty "So here's how this is gonna work. You are going to stop trying to smear my name and leave Barnes alone, he doesn't need or want you. Think you can handle that?"

Cookie kept her face blank. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, agent Carter, so get the Hell out of my office."

Sharon laughed "Don't mess with me Cookie, I'm not the girl you want to play with."

Cookie faked an exaggerated yawn "Sure Carter, I'm scared."

Sharon smirked "It doesn't matter what evidence you have, you know. Barnes won't believe you. You could record me telling you that I'm the power broker and want the Soldat to be my enforcer because that's the truth." She grinned and winked "and show it to him. He won't believe you, he's already mine." She sighed "Of course now that you're on to me I will have to adjust my plans but he will want to go with me, even beg to come to protect me from all of you.

Don't chase us little girl, you won't like what you catch."

Her grin grew to something that would rival the Joker "In fact, go ahead and show him. I know FRIDAY is recording all this so let's go and show him. I want you to see how pointless this all is so you can leave us alone."

Her face hardened "Let's go" she grabbed Cookie by her upper arm and dragged her away from her desk. Cookie tried to fight her but she wasn't great with hand to hand, give her a weapon and she might have a chance but Sharon didn't give her the opportunity to grab anything.

When they arrived at Bucky's room Sharon's face softened before Bucky answered the door.

"Hey doll, you don't have to knock just-" he stopped and frowned when he saw Cookie "What the Hell is going on, Cookie have you been harassing Sharon?"

He looked to Sharon for an explanation.

Sharon was able to squeeze a tear from her eye "I was by her office to talk to Maria and Cookie said she was watching me and knew she could prove that I'm the power broker. Listen to what she said. Friday can you play the audio from my talk in Cookies office a few minutes ago?"

"Of course agent Carter."

A recording started of Sharon and Cookies interaction in her office. Bucky started listening with a passive face but he grew angrier with everything Sharon said.

Cookie felt hopeful that he would finally see the truth about Sharon but he aimed his ire at her.

"Seriously Cookie? You just can't let it go can you? Sharon hasn't done anything except make me happy and it's killing you. Like I'm some prize to be won. I never thought you would compromise yourself like this but maybe I'll have a talk with Fury and Hill about your obsession with me."

Cookie just stared at him, trying to figure out what the Hell he was talking about. They both heard Sharon say she was the power broker but he still didn't believe it. "Are you listening to the same audio I am Barnes? She said right there shes the power broker and wants the Winter Soldier to be her enforcer."

Bucky glared at her "Jesus Cookie, that's not even close to what she said. Maybe you need to take a vacation because you're losing it."

He looked her up and down "Honestly you look like shit. When did you stop taking care of yourself? I definitely wouldn't have slept with you if you looked like this."

Sharon just stood next to Bucky grinning like a JackAss at Cookie. "I told you Cookie, he's mine so let it go."

Cookie took a breath then turned and walked away without another word. Sharon must have found some way to brainwash him again and Cookie knew there was nothing she could do right now except notify Fury and Hill that Bucky was under Sharon's control so they could work on getting him back. They scheduled a meeting for first thing the next morning at 5am.

Cookie was woken up by her phone ringing at 3am after just falling asleep. It was Sam, Bucky and Sharon were gone, Stark phones and tracking devices left sitting on the desk in his quarters.

Chapter 4

The Power Broker and The Winter Soldier, in the wind.

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #no benefits

168 notes · View notes

tubbypeddle · 4 months

Text

Risotto x afab!reader ficlet (NSFW)

i was inspired by @lady-of-endless for this one 🤭 AND IT'S A BIRTHDAY PRESENT FOR HER I FOUND OUT ITS HER BIRTHDAY THE DAY THAT I POST THIS HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

she gets a special private post too 😋 just for her 🫂

(author's note: this is actual smut, so beware of reading below the cut if ur uncomfortable with that type of stuff 😓)

Risotto's breaths are heavy in your ear. He towers over you, crowding you against the wall of his bedroom with his knee shoved between his legs.

You wish you can see his eyes, and how heady his gaze is when he's this worked up. But alas, he's laid his hat atop your head, and it was so big it fell down over your eyes. It felt a bit like when he'd blindfold you, tie you up to the bedposts.

It was horribly arousing.

He insists you keep the hat on because you look hot in his clothes. He wants to hear the jingle of his hat as he fucks up into you. You don't understand the appeal, but at the same time you do.

For now, though, he lathes his tongue up your neck, up your jaw, to leave bruising hickeys that would be impossible to hide. His knee grinds meanly into your pussy through your shorts and underwear. The force of it shoves a whine from the back of your throat. You're sure that your nails leave red lines down his bare back when you grasp at him.

His groan is muttered against your neck, his hands find their way to your waist to drag your fronts together. He's much taller than you, so the action nearly knocks you off your feet.

Almost like he's impatient, he grabs at one of your thighs and lifts it to his waist. You have to scramble to keep the hat on your head when the action actually lifts you off the floor. He grabs your other leg with his other hand to fully heft you into his arms. And before you know it, he's waddling towards his bed and throws you down onto it, a motion so familiar, it makes a laugh bubble from your chest.

"God, Risottino!" you couldn't help but giggle as he tears his shirt off so hurriedly he nearly tears it. "Eager tonight?"

Risotto doesn't even bother answering, and he just topples atop her. His weight shoves the breath out of you, but you don't really mind. Not when he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and practically tore them off of you.

There's an urgency in his eyes, in his movements, that make your throat and face burn. Before Risotto, you've never felt so desired. There was just no way to fake that kind of lust in his deep-set red eyes.

Once he's gotten you naked from the waist down, he digs his hand under your hip and flips you. Like a damn pancake, what the fuck.

It rips a squeal of laughter from you, and you shuffle onto your knees so that he has easier access to your ass. It leaves a perfect slope of your back leading down to where you rest your cheek on your arms. His hands are possessive when they grab at the globes of your ass. You can't see what he's doing, both from the position you're in and the hat on your head.

The hat jingles when he nudges your ass back towards his hips, where his cock pokes between your legs.

When your eyes are covered like this, everything just feels more. You can hear his every breath, feel the heat of his skin before he even touches you.

It's exhilarating.

Before he pushes his dick in you, he reaches down between your legs, and makes a point to trail his fingers slowly across your skin. He pushes a finger into you, all the way down to his knuckle. And the feeling is wonderful.

He's so much bigger than you are, and the feeling of his single finger alone filling you. Mmm..

Before you know it, you're panting and whining into the air, three of his big fingers stuffed inside of you as deep as they can reach. He's thrusting them slowly, taking care to prepare you for him the way he always does, he never lets you prepare yourself. He feels as if it's his duty since he's the one 'taking you', technically.

He pulls his fingers out of you with a groan and a wet schlick. He doesn't even bother wiping his hands off before he's grabbing you by your waist and mounting you like a rabid dog. Usually, his foreplay consists of more, but he must be pent up from going so long without having you like this.

His first thrust into you is deliberately slow, and it drops your jaw, cramps your stomach. "Risotto-!"

He interrupts you when he turns your head toward him with his fingers clenching your face and devours your mouth in a possessive kiss.

He's big. You'd almost forgotten how damn big he was. His ladder piercings rub up your walls in such a delicious way, and you can't help the way you clench around him. He groans muffled against your mouth, and his hips jerk suddenly at the feeling, ripping another cry from you.

This is what sets him in motion. He finally pulls his hips back, all the way to his tip, and slams back into you with a low grunt. His pace is mean in a good way, god, in such a good way.

Every swing of his hips makes your whole body shake, the hat he'd put on your head jingling with each movement. Every moan that leaves your mouth is more encouragement for him.

Your belly is starting to roll, the knot tightening to a point that's almost painful. Your head drops past your shoulders, and all you can see beneath you are the way your tits swing and the clap of your thighs against his.

God, you already know he's staring, enchanted, at the way your ass jiggles with each clap.

It's when he shoves himself into you as far as he could and circles his hips that has you falling off that edge that you'd been teetering on all night.

You can feel your walls spasming around his length, your body going stiff. He holds you to his chest through your orgasm, merciful enough tonight to keep his hips still as your ride your way down from your orgasmic high.

Your chest heaves with each gasping breath, and Risotto pets back your hair to soothe you slowly. It's a sweet gesture, but still, you knew you were nowhere near finished tonight. He still hasn't come yet, after all.

#jojo kimyou na bouken #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba part 5 #jjba vento auero #jjba x reader #jjba risotto #risotto nero #risotto x reader #jjba smut #tubbypeddle

127 notes · View notes

thebearer · 1 year

Note

can you please write dad!carmen and mom!reader stuck at home taking care of their two sick babies? carmy would be soo worried hate seeing his girls like that 💔

"Teddy, please don't cry, sweet girl."

"I know, Wills, I know it's nasty. Just a little bit more."

One was screaming, the other sobbing with deep, heaving breaths that made your own heart feel like it might spilt in two somehow. Strep had made its way into the Berzatto household. A mandatory forty-eight hours to make sure they both weren't contagious, an extra twenty-four tacked on so they could recuperate, and you weren't sure you were going to make it past day one.

Carmen had to stay home, of course, he wasn't risking infecting his staff or customers. You were thankful you had his help, especially at times like this.

Times when you were having to feed the girls their medicine. The pale pink liquid measured out in syringes, forced down their throats with gentle coaxes over their cries.

"I don't li-ike it!" Teddy sobbed, shoulders heaving. She was exhausted, sick, just uncomfortable all around. You knew she was. You wished you could jus magically make it better for her, take the pain instead so she'd go back to your bubbly, sweet girl.

"I know, baby." You hummed sympathetically, pressing the small sippy cup to her lips, thumb catching her angry tears streaking down her face. "But it will make you feel better."

"I want to feel better without that!" Teddy roared, crankily, throwing her arms out in pure frustration.

"That's the only way you can get better, Teddy Bear." Carmen chimed, soothing a still sobbing Willow in his arms, her face buried in his neck. She was still upset that he'd given her medicine to her. Sobbing in the most heart wrenching way; sad sobs, not like her sister's cries of frustration and anger- sobs that tore Carmen's heart right down the middle.

Somehow, you managed to get the two of them back down for a nap. They'd cried themselves to sleep, exhausted with emotion, collapsing in your's and Carmen's bed.

The two of you had took to the couch instead, falling nearly on top of each other. "Do you think we should take them back to the doctor?" Carmen muttered next to you.

"Why?"

"Because," Carmen hesitated, head lolling over to look at you. "I mean... They act like they're still in pain."

"That was their first dose, Carm. The medicine hasn't even had a chance to kick in." You countered gently.

"I know... I just- I-I was looking up their symptoms and what if it's meningitis or something? What if it was misdiagnosed and-"

"-Carmen, I swear to fuckin' God, I am blocking WebMD from your phone." You huffed lightly. "I don't know how I'm gonna do that, but I am. I'm gonna go to the Geek Squad and make them block it entirely."

"I'm being serious-"

"-So am I." You looked at him with a light glare. "Baby, they ran the tests. It came back strep. They have to like grow it and stuff to make sure, ok?" Carmen still looked unsettled. "If they wake up and don't feel better, we'll take them back."

"Fine." Carmen nodded, letting his head fall on your shoulder. "You think we should nap in there with them? Or stay in here?"

"Maybe one of us should go in there." You mutter. "Make sure Will doesn't throw up."

"True. Good point." Carmen sighed, rubbing his eyes when he sat up. "I'll go in there."

"I can go." You stand before he can, putting the blanket from the back of the couch on his lap. "You got them this morning. I got 'em, Daddy." You give him a playful, yet tired, wink. Carmen flushes, a shy smile that has your tummy pooling with warmth, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you're padding back to your bedroom.

469 notes · View notes

forgave-me-not · 3 months

Text

I DON'T THINK I LIKE YOU ANYMORE ☆ B.S.

Ben would sew you into the fabric of all of his clothes if he could. But alas, he cannot, so kissing you is the next best thing. Now he just has to figure out how to do it. word count: 3.2k warnings: fluff, like two curse words, a bit suggestive at the end

There's flying - with its long lines, endless bag checks, whining children - and then there's waiting on a flight. Today, you've been placed in the latter category, patiently waiting for your best friend to come home. How long had it been since you'd seen him? Two, three months? It didn't matter. What you did know is that his presence was sorely missed.

You and Ben had managed to do almost everything together - from growing up to playing sports and attending the same college. But that was before the world was big, before things were different. He had his own thing now, something you could only observe from afar. And as much as you loved that he'd found success in his niche, you were glad he was taking a break and finally coming home.

You'd paced the waiting area near the terminal for nearly 45 minutes. I look antsy as hell, you thought as you glanced at your watch again. You weren't nervous. That's impossible. It was just Ben. You simply hadn't seen him in a while. It wasn't anxiety; you had a lot of pent-up enthusiasm that needed to be let out in one way or another. Still, you looked wound up. You sit down and look around at the people around you. A mother feeds her toddler some animal crackers. Hmm, maybe she's waiting on her part-. Before you can finish your thought, you see that familiar form striding its way over to you, and you're back on your feet in a flash.

He's wearing a baseball cap, typical Ben, but you can see his face perfectly fine. Eyes just as bright, smile just as toothy. He's been just fine.

You walk around the young man, looking for any discrepancies.

"Why are you appraising me like some prize-winning bull," Ben said, slightly amused at you circling him in close inspection.

"I've gotta make sure you're all here," you declare, looking up at him. "Did you get taller?"

"I dunno. Let's get outta here, you little scumbag," Ben says with a laugh.

"Anything in baggage claim," you ask in an attempt to check off all the boxes he could miss.

"Nope."

"Alright then," you say with a smile. Ben wraps one arm around your shoulders and pulls his carry-on with the other as you lead him toward your car. You lean into him, wrapping an arm around his waist. He smells familiar with his sandalwood cologne and shea butter lotion. Oh, how you missed that smell.

The two of you make it to your car, an older model SUV your dad had handed down to you once you'd turned sixteen. There were a lot of memories in that car, some you and Ben swore to never speak about again. The sound of the trunk slamming snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Geez, Benjamin. Always so rough," you remark with an eye roll.

"My bad, my bad," Ben says defensively, putting his hands up to show he's genuinely sorry. You shake your head and lean against the driver's side door.

"The sky looks beautiful," Ben says quietly, leaning beside you. He was right. The red, orange, and pink shades made the surrounding area look otherworldly; not even the sounds of planes taking off and the nearby highway could detract from it. Ben tore his eyes away from the sky and glanced over at you. He bit the inside of his cheek. "Pretty," he whispered, not meaning to say it aloud. "Hmm? What'd you say," you said, taking your eyes off the drifting clouds. Ben froze, feeling his face get hot. "Um, nothing. The sky's pretty, that's all."

"Oh...alright. Well, B, the sky is wonderful, but I've gotta get you home." You turn to open your car door, but a firm hand reaches over and closes it. "I don't want to," Ben whines. Sometimes, you're shocked he's actually twenty-one years old. You cock an eyebrow at the hand on your car door. Ben quickly removes his hand and clears his throat.

"We haven't seen each other in a while, and besides, I have like two weeks to be home. Let's do something." His arms are crossed, Ben's signal that no will not be an answer that comes out of your mouth.

"You sure? Not too tired from your flight," you say with furrowed eyebrows.

"Nuh uh. Besides, I need a burger."

"Ugh," you groan. "I oughta make you drive." Ben lets out a laugh and spins you around in excitement. He quickly trots to the car's passenger side, opens the door, and plants himself in the seat, adjusting it for his long legs. You laugh. Like a child. "You're a punk, you know that, Shelton," you say accusingly as you start your car and back out of the parking spot.

The two of you sat in one of those authentic American diners. There was a coffee pot on every table, paintings of the food they served on the windows, and floors that were a bit slick from the kitchen grease. Ben had smashed his burger in five minutes flat; he'd said something about missing seed oils and red dye. You'd snorted and told him he better appreciate it since you were paying.

The waitress came over with the chocolate milkshake you had ordered. You thanked her and stirred the drink. Ben was attempting to build a pyramid out of toothpicks. You smile at him.

"So, how's the tour going," you ask, sipping your drink.

Ben leans forward against an elbow and begins to trace the squares of the checkered pattern on the table. "Good. You win some, you lose some, but it's fun." He picks at the fries he didn't eat and flicks the salt off his fingers. "But we always talk about me. What's up with you?"

A grin spreads across your face. "Well, there's this guy," you start. Ben's nostrils flare. He sees a flash of confusion on your face and tones down his obvious displeasure. You let out a slight cough and continue. "He's in my World Philosophies course this semester, and uh, he's pretty cool." You say the last bit quietly, sensing that Ben is judging everything you say and do. Honestly, you only brought it up because it was the first thing to come to mind. You didn't want to discuss the guy anyway, so you changed the subject.

"I kept the letter," you said casually before taking a long slurp from your milkshake.

"What?"

"Remember when you had that phase of sending people handwritten letters?" Ben nods. I only wrote you letters, though, is what he wanted to say. You always talked about the men in those classic books you love to read writing letters.

You smile and reach into the pocket of your jean shorts. Out came a folded, yellowed piece of paper.

"I usually carry it in my wallet, but I wanted to remember to show you. God, your handwriting was so funky."

"Was not," an embarrassed Ben responded, putting his head in his arms so you wouldn't see him blush. The tips of his ears were still red, though. You giggle.

"Was too, you bum."

"I was nervous, okay. What 19-year-old is sending handwritten letters nowadays anyhow," Ben stated, rolling his eyes. You tilted your head and pointed at yourself. "Uh, this guy." Ben let out one of his signature laughs, and one of the veterans sitting at the counter turned to look at the two of you. Ben shot him an apologetic look and turned back to you.

"I'm ashamed to admit that I barely even remember what I wrote," Ben said, running a hand through his hair. The waitress came by and placed the check on the table. Before you could do anything, Ben put his card down.

You chuckled. "Well, let me read you my favorite part to jog your memory then." You cleared your throat and began:

"Something you said once popped in my head after the win today. You told me that when I matured, I'd be a great; how do I do that? I know that we're thousands of miles away, and you'll probably be asleep or out to lunch when this makes it to you, but I promise now, right now, that I'll be great, for you, ok?

And I wanted to say that I miss you — like, a lot. Take care of yourself; I'll be home soon."

You didn't even need to unfold the paper; it was imprinted on your brain from reading it over and over.

"Wow. I really wrote all that, huh," Ben murmured with a smile. Damn, she really likes that letter. Didn't even glance at it. He picked up his card off the table and signed the check. "Huh, maybe my handwriting is a little funky." You grinned, threw a ten-dollar bill on top of the tab, stood up from the table, and headed out of the restaurant. Ben jogged after you.

"Wanna do something fun," Ben asked, a little out of breath from chasing after you.

"You wouldn't know fun if it spit in your face," you quip back, letting your Southern accent come through.

"What about, I don't know, carnival fun?" He smirked and pointed at a sign across the road. You stood on your tip toes to look over his shoulder.

CARNIVAL IN 3 MILES!

"Good grief, always dragging me into something. You're driving this time, by the way." You threw your keys at his chest and tried to hide your smile.

All carnivals smell alike. Animals, fried food, sweat, and vomit will always produce the same odors, no matter where you are. But the scent that hit your nose, nor the joyous screams and yelling, didn't dampen your mood. The multitude of necklaces you wore clinked as you bounced on your toes.

Ben hands the man at the ticket booth a twenty, and the two of you make your way inside. "Here." You hold up Ben's hat. "Might wanna put this on."

"Oh, thank you," he says as he bends down. Understanding the message, you push his hair back and snugly put the hat on his head. "There you go, B."

Neither of you wanted to do anything particular, so you just milled about looking for things to do. Ben beat you at the high striker, but you got him back with your perfect shot at the duck shooting booth. He was now, begrudgingly, lugging around your three-and-a-half-foot panda for you while you snacked on cotton candy.

The sun sank behind the treeline, but it was still sweltering with the humidity and the other sweating bodies surrounding you. Ben watched as a bead of sweat rolled down your neck. He swallowed thickly and shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. After meandering around a bit more, both of you grew tired of walking around and decided to sit down. The benches near the food trucks make for a perfect spot; you could watch people, Ben could watch you.

You scanned the area. A little girl wailed at a game booth nearby. Ring toss. But she's so tiny. You looked at the two adults beside her, most likely her parents. They appeared at their wit's end and on the verge of breaking down themselves. You glanced over at the bear. He still needs a name. Oh well.

"I'll be right back," you told Ben, who looked at you confused. Grabbing the panda from the spot next to you, you adjusted the straps of your tank top and made your way over to the family. Her parents noticed you first. "Is it okay if I talk to her," you asked with a sheepish smile. "Be our guest," her mother said, surprised.

"Hi there. What's your name?"

The girl sniffled and wiped her nose. "Maia."

"That's a beautiful name. Well, Maia, I won this panda right here, but I think you could use it more than I could. You have to promise me one thing."

Maia nodded enthusiastically, very ready to receive a stuffed bear almost as big as her. "Promise me that you won't give up so easily. And don't make things too hard for your parents," you said with a soft smile.

"Yes, ma'am. I promise," Maia said sweetly, tears all dried. "Are you a fairy," she asked as you handed over the bear. You barked out a laugh. "I guess I am now, sweetie. Bye for now. And be good." Maia grinned up at you and hugged your legs tights. You bent down to hug her back and glanced at her parents. "Thank you," her father mouthed at you. "No problem," you whispered back. Maia waved at you and skipped back to her parents. You waved back and turned around to where you were sitting.

Ben sat with his head against his hands, grinning like an idiot. "What are you looking all dopey at," you asked him. He stood up and looked down at you. "Just watching you. It was cute, that's all."

You chuckled as you walked away. "You sound like a creep out of context," you called over your shoulder. You walked for a bit and then stopped in front of the Ferris wheel. The bright lights and colorful seats swinging caught your attention. The sun had set, and the wind was finally picking up. You closed your eyes and rocked back and forth on your heels, humming a tune. Ben studied you from the side. All of your piercings. How your thumbs hooked around the belt loops of your shorts. That tattoo on the back of your elbow.

"Shit," Ben sighed. "I'm not sure I like you anymore."

Your eyes snap open as you turn to look up at him, the colored lights of the carnival dancing across your face. "What," you say incredulously.

"I said," he says with a drawn-out breath. "I don't think I like you anymore." A mischievous smile spreads across his face, adding to your confusion.

"What the hell is he on today," you murmur. Ben steps in front of you and places his hands on your shoulders. "What the hell am I on? You're what I'm on, that's what." He sighs. "And I'll shout 'Hey, I love this girl' from the rooftops if I have to. What can I say? I'm in love with you. Who in their right mind wouldn't be?" You push him off of you and put your hands on your knees. Ben's face drops from excitement to worry, worry that you might hate him and never see him again after his very public confession. But all of his anxieties are soothed once he hears your laugh. "Ben," you say through incessant giggling. "You're such a dork." The man frowns at you like a sad child.

"I'm sorry for laughing, B," you say, looking at him. "Come here." And it's the first real hug either of you have had all day. Ben feels you press your ear into his chest. "Are you listening to my heartbeat," he asks with a confused smile. "Yeah. Just want to make sure you're real before I say anything else." You give him another quick squeeze before stepping back. "I love you too, Ben. With all my heart."

"Promise? You're not lying, are you?"

"Pinky promise, baby. You know I don't lie to you."

"Yeah, I know." He had that dopey look on his face again. He really is in love. I got lucky.

"Let's continue this conversation in the car, shall we?" Ben asked as he wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your forehead.

"We shall," you said with a smirk.

The cooler temperatures of the night had brought out the crowds. Still, neither of you would be there long enough to experience the carnival full of people. Not that it mattered anyway. There were more important things at hand.

Ben held your hand and led you through the droves of people back to the entrance. You watched his broad shoulders move under his t-shirt as he uttered his apologies and excuse me's to passersby. When you made it out of the gate and to the parking lot, which was really just an empty field, it took everything in you not to break out into a sprint. You wanted to scream and dance and cry all at once, but you suppressed those feelings and calmly walked to your car.

Ben led you to the front of the car and patted the hood, requesting that you hop up. You obliged and sat face to face with your best friend, the man you loved. He smiled and bit his bottom lip. "You're so pretty," he whispered before taking your face in his hands. "Hmm, you should see yourself," you hum.

"What? You think I look pretty?"

"I always think you look pretty."

You caress his face and look into his eyes. The two of you stare at each other for a beat. Ben quickly gazes at your lips, breaking eye contact first. Having had enough of the silence and suspense, he leans in and kisses you. You snatch his hat off and throw it on the windshield behind you to keep it from being awkward. Ben smiles against your lips. The kisses are soft, like he doesn't want to break you. His lips trace your cheeks, jawline, neck as you whisper sweet nothings in each other's ears.

"Could y'all get a room or something," a voice calls out, bringing you back to reality. Ben bristles, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck from embarrassment.

"Jesus Christ, Robert. Leave them alone; they're just kids. Besides, you're the one invading their privacy. This parking lot is empty, hon." The man mumbles something to his wife.

"Sorry, dears. This old man won't bother you anymore. Have fun," the lady says as she drags her husband to the ticket booth. You lift your head from Ben's shoulder and wave at her shrinking form. You turn back to Ben, who's trying his hardest to stifle his laughter, and you smile. "Here, I have a better idea," he says. Ben helps you down from the hood of the car and leads you to the rear door of your vehicle. You grabbed his hat off the windshield before either of you could forget. He opens the door and swivels his head to face you. "Only if you want, of course."

You looked down at the ground, suddenly shy, and nodded. "Yeah. I want to." Ben beamed at you before moving over to let you clamber in ahead of him. He climbs in and shuts the door behind you. Once again, you two are side by side, face to face. Ben's fingers snaked under your tank top and traced patterns on your lower back.

"So, what exactly is the plan," you asked softly, gazing into his eyes.

Ben leaned in to kiss your neck. "I was just going to figure it out as we went," he said, kissing behind your ear. "If that's ok."

"That's perfect," you hummed, running your hand through the hair at the nape of his neck. The two of you were in your own little world, and neither had to tell a soul. It would end up as just one more secret that your car would have to keep.

author's note: finally getting this out of my system lol. can't believe I wrote all of this, geez

#ben shelton #ben shelton x reader #ava writes!!#fluff #ficlet #my writing #txt post #atp tennis #tennis #tennisblr #as always #I think it kinda sucks #but we move!!

59 notes · View notes

topknot32 · 4 months

Text

Designated Driver (2/2)

Rio/OFC

summary- one of rio's ladies gets too drunk to drive herself home, and all she wants is for him to come pick her up.

warnings- 18+. Smut below the cut.

word count- 5.1K

author note- I ended up falling so in love with this pairing, and I’ll definitely be writing for them again! 🖤

When Olivia woke the next morning, she was alone in bed. It took a few minutes for all of the memories from the night before to come rushing back, but when they did, she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. She felt hungover, and was in desperate need of a shower, but none of that could sweep away the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

The clock on the bedside table read eight, and she shot up, all thoughts of Rio gone. It was way past time for Kai to be up, changed, and fed. Rarely did he sleep in later than her, and the lack of any noise coming from his bedroom just down the hall made Olivia's heart jump into her throat. She jumped out of bed and nearly tore the door off it's hinges in her rush to find her son, but once she was inside his room, she found the crib to be empty.

That was when she heard the sound of a pan on the stovetop, and the soft rambling of Kai. A second voice filled in the gaps, a very familiar voice that Olivia truly hadn't expected to hear in her home this morning. She took a second to slow her heart, taking a deep breath before slowly making her way down the stairs. Around the corner in the kitchen, standing at the stove was Chris, a spatula in hand.

"Now, watch this," he said in a low voice. He lifted the skillet from the burner and flipped whatever was in the pan, and Kai giggled and clapped. "Cool, huh?"

It wasn't the first time Kai had met Chris. The two were around each other often when Beth set meets at the park. Chris usually brought his own son, and Olivia brought Kai, so they were familiar enough for Kai not to be too shy. They seemed to be getting along just fine.

"Good morning," Olivia said, coming into the kitchen. Chris looked up, but didn't skip a beat.

He looked her over from head to toe in one sweeping glance. "Morning."

Kai lit up and reached his arms out. She stepped over to his high chair and smoothed his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. On his tray were cut up strawberries and a few slices of banana. "Thanks for getting him up. You really didn't have to do that."

"You were knocked and I was up, so it wasn't a problem," he said, his back to her as he resumed cooking the pancakes.

Olivia wasn't sure what to say to that. She was sober now, and it was daytime which meant Chris was a little more intimidating than he'd been before. And he was standing in her kitchen holding a spatula. She turned her attention to Kai and helped him eat his strawberries, stealing a few in the process.

When the pancakes were finished, Chris plated them and placed them on the counter in front of Kai's high chair. She noticed that he hadn't made himself any. "What about you?" she asked as he came around the counter.

Chris stared down at her, the intensity in his eyes making her heart stutter a little. "I got business to attend to." He reached out and brushed a few hairs from her face, and her skin tingled where it made contact with his. "I'll see you around, Olivia."

"Thank you for this, and for last night." She motioned at the food, her voice betraying the way she was feeling inside, but if he noticed he didn't make it known.

"Don't mention it. See you later, kid," he said to Kai.

And with that, Chris grabbed his sweatshirt and beanie off the counter, and headed out of the kitchen. A few seconds later, Olivia heard the front door open and close, and she pressed a hand over her mouth. She wasn't exactly sure what the drunk version of herself had started, but sober Olivia felt a sharp chill of excitement at the results.

Days passed by without hearing from Chris, then a week, then two weeks. Olivia started to think he wasn't interested after all, and that she'd misread all the signs he'd given her before the night he picked her up. It was a bit of a blow to her ego, but she had enough going on with Kai and work that she was easily distracted. But in the moments of quiet, her mind wandered to the cloudy, drunk memories of what Chris looked like laying in her bed, and it was hard not to feel a little disappointed.

Beth met with him twice over those two weeks, but Annie and Olivia hadn't been needed at either meetup. She wondered if the rumors were true, if Beth and Chris really did have a thing for one another, and maybe Olivia had just been an opportunity he chose not to pass up.

Either way, when Annie asked her to go out to the Latin club not far from their strip club, Olivia chose to say yes instead of staying in and moping. It was a chance for them to hang out alone since Beth was at home with the kids, and for once Olivia was glad. If her suspicions were true, the last thing she wanted to do was listen to Beth talk about their employer. She was afraid her face would show some level of jealousy, and then she'd be in trouble.

She'd chosen simple black jeans that were so tight she could barely bend and an equally tight black top that dipped low in the front. As Olivia looked herself over in the mirror, she pulled out her phone and snapped a quick photo, posting it to her story.

Annie showed up just as Olivia was pulling on a pair of heels, and the pair headed out. Kai was sleeping peacefully, his babysitter set up in the living room with popcorn and a never ending stream of movies. They took a cab to La Zona, and it took little convincing from Annie for the tequila to start flowing.

"It's times like these that I'm actually glad I met Greg," Annie said as she licked salt from the back of her hand and took another shot. Olivia could barely hear what she was saying over the pounding bass.

Olivia laughed. "Why's that?"

"Because it gave me you, and you're so much more fun than he is."

Olivia raised her own glass. "You're not wrong about that." She took the shot and reached for her mojito waiting for her on the table. "Sometimes I feel guilty though, for leaving Kai at home to do stuff like this."

Annie just shook her head. "If the worst thing you ever do is go out and have fun after he's already asleep, you're a great mom."

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see she had a notification. A comment on the photo she'd posted before leaving the house.

Where you going looking like that

Chris. Olivia felt heat flush up her neck, and she glanced up quickly to make sure Annie wasn't paying attention.

Out, she responded. Short and sweet for the lack of contact.

A few minutes later, her phone vibrated with an incoming text, and she knew before she even looked who it was.

Tell me where you are

Olivia felt the butterflies from the night before resurface. She started to type a response only to have Annie snapping her fingers in front of her face. "Come on, let's go dance."

She barely had time to shove her phone back into her pocket before she was being tugged along into the sea of people dancing to the beat of Latin hip-hop. It didn't take long for the tequila to kick in, and after a while she completely forgot about the text from Chris and the fact that she never responded.

Later, Olivia found herself back at the bar while Annie ran to the bathroom. She was hot, and grabbed a water instead of more alcohol from the bartender and pulled her phone out to check the time. It was nearing midnight, but the time wasn't what gave her pause. She had two texts waiting—one an update from the babysitter on Kai who was still sleeping, the other was a second from Chris.

You know I have your location right

Olivia froze, staring at the screen. When she looked back up, she searched the crowd for his face. It was just like him to show up unannounced.

How do you have it, she typed out, and waited anxiously for a reply. He'd sent the last message almost an hour ago.

I like to keep tabs on my girls

"Shit," she whispered to herself.

She knew he was dangerous, that he liked to play with them, make them uneasy. He'd just never really done it to her before, so this was a new feeling. She felt like she was being watched, that he could pop up at any moment and spill her secret. Annie would never understand the game she was playing if she found out, and Olivia didn't know if she could handle a lecture. Then there was Beth. If there was something going on between her and Chris, that would cause even more problems. Olivia decided to ignore him, to pretend like he didn't exist because that was what was best for her friendships.

The second Annie was back, they took another shot each and faded back into the crowd. There was one guy in particular Annie kept ending back up near, and Olivia tried to give her an inconspicuous thumbs up. He was cute. A little short, but taller than Annie, and that was all that really mattered.

As Olivia moved her body to the beat of the song, the sea of dancers enveloped her in a pulsing embrace. She danced with different people, going with the flow until a firm chest pressed against her back and a set of hands slid around her waist, dragging her back so they were flush together.

She smelled his cologne before she could fully process anything else, like the familiar shape of his hands. Her heart picked up speed in her chest, fluttering around like a frightened hummingbird. She refused to turn around as they moved together to the music, but against her better judgement, she allowed herself to fall prey to his advances. They fell into sync easily, moving against one another to the beat like it was completely natural. So natural she forgot all about Annie and the possibility of her seeing them in a compromising position.

His hands wandered, squeezing at her waist, down to roam her thighs before moving back up to press into her ribcage, his thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. The heat of his breath on the side of her neck sent a shiver down her spine, and she pressed back into him. His lips fell to the skin of her collarbone, and her eyes fluttered closed.

"You let every man put his hands on you or did you know it was me?" Chris asked close enough to her ear to hear over the music. Another wave of goosebumps rolled over her skin.

Finally Olivia turned her head so she could see him, and his eyes were heavy lidded as he watched her. The second she met his gaze, his shifted down to her lips then quickly back up.

"What do you think?"

"I think you should answer me when I ask you a question."

Olivia turned in his embrace, and his hands shifted across her hips to rest on the curve of her ass. She slipped her own hands up from his waist to his chest. Without giving it any thought at all, she leaned up and connected their lips. Chris didn't hesitate, but she wasn't prepared for him to slip his tongue against her own, his grip tightening.

Any ideas she'd had about ignoring him and pretending he didn't exist flew out the window. She wasn't nearly as drunk as the last time, and she relished every second. When Chris pulled back, his expression was hard to read. His eyes were narrowed, his mouth a firm line, but his body held hers like it was all he wanted, and she allowed him to.

She noted how good he looked in black jeans and a button down, his facial hair freshly trimmed. While she was taking on his appearance, he was brazenly doing the same. His eyes lingered on the dip in her top and the cleavage it exposed. Without saying a word, he took her hand and pulled her through the crowd toward the bar where it was easier to move and hear each other.

Chris ordered a scotch for himself and turned to her. "Just water," she said, and he smirked.

"Yeah, why's that?"

She held his gaze despite the anxiousness in her stomach. "Something tells me I should keep a clear head."

His smile grew wider just as the bartender popped their drinks onto the bar top, and he broke eye contact to pay. Olivia felt the same forbidden excitement that'd come over her the last time. Annie was somewhere out there on the dance floor, and Chris was right here. He wasn't hiding, and by the way he passed her the water and then slid his arm back around her waist, he didn't plan to.

"What are you doing here?" she finally asked when he didn't say anything.

He shrugged, sipping his scotch. "Whose attention were you trying to get with the picture?"

Olivia felt her cheeks flush. "No one."

"Bullshit. Don't play dumb with me now, sweetheart."

"How'd you know I wasn't here with a date?"

He held the glass to his lips and took a long pull, but he kept her pinned with his eyes over the rim the whole time. "You didn't call," he said.

Olivia's brows furrowed. "What?"

"I left it up to you, being the one who was drunk and all." Her mouth opened, but no words came out. "You didn't come to the meets."

"Beth said we weren't required to go," Olivia managed to say.

"You're never required, but uh, I assumed that meant something, you know?" He drained the glass and set it off to the side. With the arm around her waist, he dragged her closer. "Like you were sendin' me a signal. Then you post a photo like you did, and that's very unordinary for you."

"No, it—"

"When was the last time?"

Olivia tried to remember, but she couldn't. It'd probably been before Kai, or very randomly after. She didn't really do selfies, but she looked good, and yeah, maybe she knew he would see it because they were friends.

"So, whose attention were you trying to get?" he asked again.

"Yours," she whispered so softly he leaned in closer to hear. His cheek was pressed to hers, his breath hot on her neck.

"Yeah, I thought so. Next time send it directly to my phone."

A chill rippled down her spine at the thought of next time. She tilted her head so their lips were only a breath apart just before Chris closed the distance. This kiss was slower than the ones they'd shared before, and it lit a fire in her abdomen. Her hands found his waist, and she slid them up to rest on his lower back. He gripped her ass tight, and with their bodies pressed together, she could feel the hardening bulge in his jeans.

"Let me drive you home," he said when he pulled away, and there was a raspiness to his voice that wasn't there before.

"Annie's out there. I can't just leave her."

Chris ran his hand up to cup her chin, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. She felt all rational thought drifting off as he stared down at her with his dark brown eyes. "Mick'll make sure she gets home safe." He kissed her again before she could protest. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

He gave her hand a squeeze before turning and disappearing into the crowd. Olivia ran her fingers through her hair and tried to gather herself after being thrown completely off guard by his sudden, all consuming presence.

"Where the hell did you go?" Annie called out from behind. "I turned around and you were gone."

"I'm leaving," Olivia said, just wanting to get it off her chest. "I was about to come and find you."

Annie stood in the place Chris had just been looking very confused, and very inebriated. "Did you meet someone?" She looked around, searching for a face she wouldn't find.

"It's a long story."

Through the crowd, Chris stepped back into sight with Mick in tow. Annie glanced back at him, then did a double take. "What's gang friend doing here?"

Chris, without a hint of shame, came to stand at Olivia's elbow. "You ready?" he asked loud enough for Annie to hear. Olivia held her breath, waiting for some kind of lightbulb to go off.

Annie's eyes bounced from Olivia to Chris and back. "What is happening right now?"

Mick slung an arm over Annie's shoulders. "We're being kicked to the curb, doll."

Annie's eyes scrunched closed in contemplation for a second. "Wait, wait, wait. Liv, are you sleeping with gang friend!?"

Olivia opened her mouth to deny the accusations, but she didn't get the chance. Chris laughed and shook his head. "Make sure she gets home safe," he said to Mick who offered him a sarcastic salute. Chris guided Olivia passed them, and they headed for the exit.

Like the last time, Olivia found herself in the passenger seat of Chris's Mercedes. He'd started the engine, but was yet to put the car in drive. They were parked in a packed lot just a few blocks from the club, and now that she could think straight without the noise and lights distracting her, she started to wonder if Beth knew something was up. Why else would she insist on going to the meets by herself recently when that'd never been the case before?

Chris's head was resting against the headrest, his eyes trained out the front windshield. She admired his side profile, the curve of his jaw and length of his neck. Him showing up tonight was a genuine surprise, but she was glad for it. The night they ended up at her house, there'd been something between them that she'd chosen to try and ignore until now. Partially because she never thought they'd end up here again.

"How many drinks did you have tonight?" he asked, and the sound of his voice relit the fire in her stomach. Every time he opened his mouth, it struck a chord inside her that couldn't be ignored.

"Just a few."

"What's a few, Olivia?" He turned his head to look at her. Why did he have to be so effortlessly attractive?

"Three."

Chris just watched her for a minute as if he were thinking that over. She could see the wheels turning inside his head, and she wished she could read his mind. He leaned forward and reached into the back of his jeans, pulling out his gun and resting it on the dash. At one point, that would've terrified her, but not anymore. "Take your shirt off."

Olivia froze, but Chris made no move to look away. For a second she thought she'd misheard him, but the way his eyes dipped to her cleavage, she hadn't. "Unless you just want me to drive you home," he continued. By his tone, she knew he was sincere. She glanced at the windows, checking to see if anyone was around to catch them. "They're tinted," he said as he motioned at the windshield. "No one'll see you. No one except me."

Her hands felt shaky with nervous energy, but being alone with him was something she daydreamed about, and she didn't want to waste the opportunity. She sat up in her seat and pulled the bottom hem of her shirt out of her jeans before slowly pulling it up and off. She was wearing an emerald green bra and panty set underneath, one of her favorites. Chris analyzed every inch of newly exposed skin, and she burned hot. She was sure he could tell, but if he did, he made no note of it.

He sat up a little and scooted his seat back as far as it would go, and tilted the backrest to a flatter angle. "Come here."

Olivia hesitated. She had a pretty good idea where this was headed, and she wanted it so bad, but she was nervous. Being drunk out of her mind gave her a ridiculous kind of confidence she didn't naturally possess, but she didn't have that to fall back on tonight. She shifted in her seat only to find that the tightness of her jeans limited her movements, and she gave it the briefest of considerations before stretching out and popping the button open. She felt the heat of his gaze as she pushed them down her legs, and she found that she liked the way it felt. Her heart raced, her breaths coming quick and short with anticipation.

She kicked the jeans off, leaving them in a pile on the floorboard, and sat up on her knees, crawling over the center console to straddle his lap. Chris shifted a little to accommodate her, his hands instantly reaching up to grab her waist. Olivia planted her palms flat on his chest and leaned down to kiss him, her long blonde hair falling around them like a curtain.

Chris wasted no time, forcing her hips back over his. He was definitely hard now, and as the kiss deepened, their movements grew more rushed. She hurried to get the buttons of his shirt undone, and when it was, she tore it open and moved from his lips down the column of his tattooed throat. His hands squeezed the flesh of her ass and thighs, and she rocked her hips slowly, creating the kind of friction that made them both breathe heavier.

She wasn't drunk by any means, but the tequila enhanced every sensation, making her more desperate for what they were hurtling headlong toward. She dragged her fingers down his naked chest, and a hiss left Chris's mouth. He slipped his hands into the waistband of her panties, slowly pulling them down as far as he could with her legs spread over him. All at once Chris sat up and took both hands to the thin strip of fabric concealing her soaking wet pussy from him. In one swift motion he snapped the material and tossed the shreds to lay on the floorboard with her jeans.

"Those were my favorite," she said, but he just shook his head, too focused to be distracted.

"You want your panties back or do you want to come?" he soothed against her lips, and she gasped when she felt his hand dip between her legs, two fingers opening her up to swipe against her clit. Her nails dug into his shoulders. "That's what I thought."

He kept her firmly in hand as he circled her clit, pressing his forehead to hers. She rocked her hips against the contact, wanting more, but he held firm. As if he could read her mind, Chris dipped lower to slip those same fingers inside her. His lips parted as she moaned, his tongue running across his bottom lip. The way he curled his fingers buried inside her sent a shock of pleasure through her body, his thumb pressing against her clit sending her higher. While he stroked the spot inside that unraveled her sanity, he loosened his grip on her waist with his other hand, giving her the freedom to ride his fingers.

"You want it?" he asked, and she nodded. "Let me hear you say it."

She struggled to find her voice. It all felt so good. "Yes, I want it."

Chris leaned back a little so he could see her better, resting against the seat. "Make yourself come, then."

It took her a second to comprehend what he was telling her to do, and she had a fleeting moment of feeling ridiculous, but then he pressed harder against her clit, forcing a breathless gasp from her chest. She rested her palms back on his naked chest, grinding her hips in slow circles. With each turn, his thumb rubbed her in the most delicious way, and Chris watched as she neared an orgasm.

Olivia was so lost inside her own pleasure she almost missed the way his chest was rising and falling with ragged breaths, but when she noticed she couldn't look away. The way she was positioned over his cock, she rubbed against him too, back and forth, her pussy grinding against the fabric of his jeans. The outline of the bulge was another erotic sensation, one that seemed to drive him crazy.

Chris was always so in control, but she watched him unravel right before her eyes until he was dragging his fingers from between her legs to pop the button on his own jeans. Him losing that control was nearly enough to make her come right there, but she kept it at bay. She wanted to feel him. She scooted back and reached down to help, tugging his boxers down along with him until his cock sprang free. He was bigger than she expected, longer than most but the perfect girth that made the need between her legs grow even worse.

When she looked up, Chris was analyzing her expression, but he took the shaft in his hand and gave it a few slow strokes. Not wanting to waste more time, Olivia slid her hand beneath his to take its place around his length. Chris ran that same hand up her forearm, past her elbow and shoulder, until he was holding her by the throat. Her breath caught as his thumb brushed over the hollow there. Olivia sat up on her knees, moving up so his cock brushed her entrance, and gradually she lowered herself down.

Chris's grip on her neck tightened, pulling her down to connect their lips. Her pussy stretched around him, making her moan. The rumble of a laugh vibrated out from his chest into hers. She took the last few inches slow, waiting a few seconds to adjust before she moved, but Chris took her in hand again, both gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. He pushed her back and forth, both of them groaning at the feeling, and she sat up to steady herself.

He gazed up at her with a lust filled eyes. "You feel so fuckin' good," he said, voice low, and she could've sworn she grew ten times wetter.

She tried to take control, setting her own pace, and instead of his fingers nearly bruising her skin, they wandered. He laid his head back against the headrest and watched her ride him, one hand going up to cup her breast through the lace of her bra, thumb brushing the hardened bud. Shocks of pleasure shot between her legs, making her cry out his name. The other hand made it's way between her legs again, his fingers finding her clit and pushing her nearly over the edge of sensations.

"Come for me, Olivia," he whispered, and he groaned when she dug her nails into the skin of his chest. "Come on, come for me."

She couldn't hold it back any longer, and she kept going as the orgasm burst out from her lower abdomen, and her mouth fell open as it consumed her. Her thighs threatened to snap closed, but Chris held them open and continued the tight circles around her clit, making her muscles tremble.

"Chris, wait, I can—" but he didn't stop, and she could feel her eyes burning with tears of pleasure as she rode his cock through it.

Chris was close, she could tell by the way his breaths came in short bursts, his face contorting and chest rising and falling, and just as her orgasm was fading, his hit him full on and he latched onto her hips once again, thrusting deep and filling her up with his come.

"Fuck," he groaned, and she leaned down to kiss him, swallowing the sounds of his pleasure.

Olivia peppered soft kisses across his jaw and down his neck, and when she looked back up, his eyes were closed, but there was a soft, satisfied smile on his face. She sat up and started to slide over to the passenger seat, but he grabbed her waist before she could get very far.

"Where you going?" he asked as he opened his eyes and looked up at her.

"My legs are cramping."

Rio chuckled sleepily and let her go. She climbed over the console, and Chris reached into the backseat where he found an extra t-shirt. He leaned over and cleaned the come from between her legs before wiping himself off and doing up his jeans.

A few quiet moments passed until Chris rested his elbow on the center console and leaned back to grab more articles of clothing from the back. He tossed her a thick black sweatshirt that smelled of his cologne. "You can wear that," he said. She pulled it over her head to find it came down just below her ass.

When she looked up, he was still watching her. "What?"

Chris reached a hand out and brushed a few messy strands of hair behind her ear. She couldn't imagine what she'd looked like right now. "You look beautiful."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She turned to pull down the mirror on the visor but he took her chin, forcing her back to look at him. He leaned forward and kissed her lips slow and soft, swiping his tongue against her bottom lip.

"You look thoroughly satisfied, and that to me is so fuckin' beautiful," he whispered against her lips, and she wanted to bang her head against the headrest. Every time he opened his mouth, he said something that made her want to open her legs. "Come on, let me get you home."

He kissed her once more before pushing a few buttons on the radio. The car was still running, so music filled the cabin, and he fixed his seat and put it in drive. "Next time, you come to the meet up, yeah?"

Olivia couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I'll be there."

#netflix good girls #rio good girls #good girls fic #manny mayans #manny montana #Spotify

31 notes · View notes

guilty-pleasures21 · 6 months

Text

Another one?! Ugh, I get bored at work, okay?!

I almost forgot to release this!

4. Jealousy, bring the music back to me.

Part 1 - the call

Part 2 - the revenge

Warnings: explicit descriptions of sex (male x female). Dirty talk involving domination (but no derogation!!!) is also included.

----------------------------------------------------------

She'd put on her pyjamas and turned on the TV while she waited for him. He hadn't sent her any messages after their phone call, so she could only assume that he was on his way over. Finally, the doorbell rang and she jumped up and raced over to it excited. She checked the peephole to make sure it was him, then flung the door open and gave him a mischievous smile.

“Dr O'Hara?” she asked, getting a little nervous when he continued to glare down at her with his coppery eyes. “What happened with your dinner?”

He pushed past her without a word and she gulped as she shut the door behind him.

“You know, I don’t get paid to work this late, boss,” she joked, keeping her tone light as she turned to face him. “Is it okay if I just take care of this … tomorrow?”

She grinned as she gestured to his general being and Miguel growled at her feigned innocence before backing her into the door and trapping her against it. He grabbed her chin in his hand and forced her to look up at him, his eyes dark with lust and his jaw clenched in frustration.

“What was it you wanted me to do, arañita? Run my huge hands all over your breasts?” His voice was low and rough and she let out a surprised whimper as he slid his hands under her shirt and ripped it off. She curled her arms against her chest as he exposed before him, but he tugged them aside, then reached up to take hold of her breasts. His gaze locked on her chest as he watched himself squeeze and rub her soft flesh, her nipples quickly hardening at his touch, then he looked up at her. “And then what? You wanted me to lick your neck?”

He bent over to do exactly as she'd asked, his teeth grazing her skin as he brushed his lips along her throat. His hands drifted down her waist as he nibbled and licked her and she squeaked in surprise when he plunged them into her pyjamas to grab her ass.

“Miguel!” X clutched onto his shoulders, trying to keep herself upright as he towered over her. “M-Miguel … please …”

“Please what, arañita?” he murmured against her skin. “Isn't this what you wanted? Isn't this what you were asking me for?”

He pulled back to glare at her, and slid his hands around to her front to grab onto the waistband of her pyjamas. “Whining and whimpering in my ear over the phone. Interrupting me in the middle of my dinner.”

He knelt down and yanked her bottoms off before lifting her up onto his waist to carry her into her bedroom.

“I'm sorry,” X apologised, curling herself around him to lick his neck and drag her fingernails along his back. “I just … I needed you so badly, Miguel!”

He threw her onto the bed once he'd reached it and tore his clothes off, his heart beating with anticipation as he gazed down at her.

“Qué chica traviesa, arañita (what a naughty girl, little spider), whispering such naughty things in my ear,” he scolded her, his voice soft and smooth. He licked his lips as he climbed on top of her, then he began kissing her, stroking and squeezing every part of her he could grab hold of. “What else did you want me to do? Tell me what you want, querida. Tell me what you want from me.”

He slid his hand down her abdomen and buried his fingers in her already wet folds, stroking and teasing her as she wriggled and squirmed beneath him.

“You want me to make you come for me? Hmm? Is that what you want?” He frowned as he slid his fingers inside of her, recalling the naughty words she'd said to him over the phone. “That's what you said, right? My big fingers inside of you, stroking you until you're leaking around my fingers, your sweet, sticky c*m dripping into the palm of my hand? ¿Eso es lo que dijiste, sí, arañita? (That's what you said, right, little spider?)”

“Mmm. Yes, Miguel,” X breathed, moaning and whimpering at the feeling of thick fingers pumping her vigorously. God, it felt good. “Please … please make me come for you.”

She grabbed onto the pillow behind her, squeezing it tight as her hips began moving in time to the rhythm of his fingers inside of her. Miguel's jaw clenched at the sight.

“Why?” he pressed, continuing to stroke her and curl his fingers against her sensitive walls. “Why should I make you come for me, arañita? Do you think you deserve it? After all those naughty pictures you kept sending me?”

He held her hips down with his free hand, keeping her in place so he could continue to tease her however he wanted.

“¿Sabías que Ilyana estaba sentada a mi lado, querida? Y Nate. ¿Y si habían visto? (Did you know that Ilyana was sitting right next to me? And Nate? What if they saw?) Hmm?” He bent over her so their lips were just an inch apart. “What if they had looked over and seen all those delicious pictures of you? Your beautiful little body, all naked for me?”

He groaned and leaned over to begin kissing her neck, the palm of his hand pressing against her clit as he continued moving his fingers inside of her.

“So beautiful, querida. So small and so perfect and all mine. Only mine.” He pulled back to look at her again, his features set into a hard expression. “¿Me entiendes, querida? Eres solamente mio. (Do you understand, darling? You are only mine.) Mine.”

He snarled at her, making sure that she got the message and she reached her hands up to his shoulders, digging her fingers into his muscles as she held onto him.

“Yes, Miguel. All yours, only yours,” she agreed, gasping for breath as she approached her limit. "I'm ... only yours, mi querido. Only … Hmm, please, Miguel. Miguel, please. Mmm, you're so hot. I need you so badly. Please, Miguel. Please, querido?”

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, her eyes wide and pleading and driving him wild. Miguel growled again and thrust his fingers inside of her, forcing her vagina to start fluttering around his fingers as she came for him. Then he lowered himself on top of her when she was done.

“Are you happy now? ¿Te sientes contenta, mi cariño? (Are you happy, my sweetheart?)” He reached up to grip her chin in his hand and brushed his thumb across her lower lip.

“Or do you want more? Do you want me to make you come around my dick, mi querida? Is that what you want?” He ran his hand down her body, then took hold of his cock to start dragging his tip along her folds. “That's what you said right? My arms around your waist, my cock in your p*ssy, stroking you and teasing you. ¿Cómo obscena, arañita? (How dirty, little spider.) How could you whisper such filthy things in my ear?”

She moaned as he started pushing himself inside of her, her legs twitching as she spread herself to accommodate his large bulk.

“And what did you say after that?” he continued, his eyes fixing on where he sat inside of her so nicely. “Your tiny little p*ssy? Your beautiful, perfect little p*ssy? So small and so tight and always taking me in so nicely?” He pushed the rest of his length into her, then pulled her up onto his lap, his hands around her waist holding her upright so he could continue looking into her eyes.

“You're such a good girl, arañita,” he told her, his hips beginning to roll against hers gently. “How could you say such naughty things? Muy traviesa, mi cariño, muy obscena. (So naughty, my sweetheart, so dirty.)" He pressed his lips to hers to kiss her, his tongue winding around hers to lick up her moans and whimpers.

“And then when you were whining for me?” he continued, his hips continuing their slow and steady pace as they moved against hers. “When you were whimpering and begging me to let you come? To let you come around my dick? My thick cock stroking the insides of your tiny little p*ssy? ¿Cómo pudiste decir eso, querida? (How could you say that, darling?) How could you say that? How could you say such things to me, mi arañita hermosa?”

X moaned loudly, her brain turning completely numb as he lifted her thighs and started moving her up and down on his length.

“Please, Miguel,” she whined, doing her best to respond to him despite the cloud of lust fogging her brain. “Please make me come for you again. I wanna come for you so bad. Please, cariño? For me? I'll be a good girl, I promise, I'll do whatever you say. Please just make me come for you again.”

She squirmed against him, trying to speed up their movements as her p*ssy throbbed around his cock.

“You like it, don't you?” she insisted desperately. “You like it when I come for you? My sweet little p*ssy working so hard to please you? To take you in and squeeze you tight? Hmm, please, Miguel. Please let me come for you. I wanna come for you so bad!”

Miguel bit down on her neck and growled as he thrust himself into her hard. X shivered as she came around his cock and Miguel tightened his grip on her waist as he released his c*m into her. X scrabbled at his shoulders as she felt him filling her up, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to hold onto him while he came. Then finally, he relaxed and his c*m started leaking out of her as he lowered her onto her bed.

“Good girl, arañita,” he praised her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Muy bien, mi querida.” He kept one arm around her waist as he collapsed onto the mattress next to her, the room filling up with the sounds of their shallow breaths.

“Holy shit!” X panted eventually, twisting her neck to look at him. “That was amazing!”

“Wow,” Miguel agreed, turning to face her with a grin on his face. Mierda, he didn't think he'd had such hot sex before! His insane little girlfriend reflected his expression back at him as she rolled over onto her side and curled up against him. Miguel cuddled her close, his fingers running up and down her back lightly as they lay together in silence. “So … you'll do whatever I tell you to?”

“No …” X winced, then pulled away from him and propped herself up on her elbow. “I was just saying that so you would do whatever I told you to.”

“Hmm, that's not what I heard, arañita,” Miguel argued, pressing his lips together to hide his smile as he pulled her back to him. “I distinctly remember you saying 'I'll be a good girl, Miguel, I promise, I'll do whatever you tell me to. Please, Miguel, please just let me come for you!'”

She would have laughed at his high-pitched imitation of her if he wasn't being so annoying about it. X whined as she wriggled around in his arms, trying to escape his firm grasp.

“Hmm, argh! I can never look you in the face again!” She buried her face in his chest so that her voice was muffled when she next spoke. “I can't go to work tomorrow. I'm sick.”

Miguel snickered at the pathetic fake cough she let out to illustrate her point. “You can't just take a day off, querida. You have to get an MC.”

X rolled over onto her stomach and pushed herself onto her elbows to look at him. She fluttered her eyelashes in the way she knew he couldn't resist, then licked her lips and brushed her finger along his skin, tracing the outlines of the muscles in his chest.

“Miguel, querido, please can I work from home tomorrow?” She slid her hands up his chest, her eyes wide and pleading as she lay her head down and waited for his response. Miguel sighed and slung an arm over her waist.

“Not now you can't,” he decided, dragging his fingernails up and down her back. “Not with that pretty face you're giving me. How could I possibly survive a day in the office without you?” X sighed and narrowed her eyes at him, frustrated that her plan had backfired on her.

“Ugh, fine. Whatever,” she relented, snuggling back up against him. Miguel grinned and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, squeezing her against him lovingly.

“So, I take it dinner wasn’t very fun?” she asked. She tilted her head to look up at him and he took a moment to admire the curve of her rosy lips before groaning at the question.

“It was horrible!” he complained, drawing a snicker out of X. “Ilyana wouldn't leave me alone! I kept trying to come up with ways to tell her that I have a girlfriend without actually telling her about my girlfriend.” He gave her a look that was somewhere between angry and pitiful and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Aww! You poor thing! All the suffering you have to go through.” She reached out to stroke his cheek, pretending to console him. He sighed and leaned into her touch, accepting the comfort, but then a wicked gleam entered her eyes. “What did she do? Do you think she’s going to keep trying tomorrow? Oh my god, I need to see that.” She grinned as she wriggled against him, making herself comfortable in his arms.

“Sigh,” she continued dramatically. “It’s so sad. I always have to warn the new interns not to fall in love with you.” Miguel raised an eyebrow, fighting against the amused grin tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Why?” he asked, pulling her back to him. “Afraid you’ll get jealous?” He moved to give her a kiss, but she barked out a laugh, stopping him. Miguel's eyes widened in bewilderment at her sudden outburst.

“No way!” she exclaimed incredulously. “Firstly, it’s because you’re so freaking hot! Everyone sees you and they fall in love with you straight away. And then I have to be the one to tell them ‘hey, sweetie? It’s never gonna happen. Can you please just get back to your lab work? Thank you!’”

She’d raised her voice a pitch higher as she spoke the last part, putting on an exaggerated accent to increase the dramatics. Everything always seemed that much more interesting through her eyes, but also that much more simple. As if life itself weren’t something to take so seriously all the time. He stroked her back lightly, his lips curling into a smile as he listened to her go on.

“But then they all reach this point where they decide that you’re secretly in love with me, and they get obsessed with that instead,” she finished, rolling her eyes fondly. He wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her closer to him so that their lips were just centimetres apart. Her breath caught in her throat as she peeked up at him from beneath her lashes and she swallowed hard when his gaze trailed down to her mouth.

“Everyone thinks I’m secretly in love with you?” he asked, his voice low, his hand moving to grip her ass. She let out a little squeak and bit her lip as her chest heated up at the look in his eyes. Then she cleared her throat and turned away, trying to ignore the rapid fluttering of her stomach.

“Yes,” she confirmed, turning back to him. “Like, actually, it’s not even funny. That’s why everyone’s always asking me to ask you stuff: because they think you’ll never say no to me.” Miguel pursed his lips in thought as he skimmed his fingernails along her side.

“Hmm, maybe I’m being too lenient with you,” he suggested, curling his fingers around her waist. “From now on, you’re not allowed to do anything without my permission.” X pushed against his chest, moving herself away from him as her eyes widened in horror.

“What?!” she screeched, outraged by the very idea. “Gross! I’m quitting.” She turned around in a huff and shuffled out of his grasp, refusing to pay him any more attention. Miguel smiled and wrapped his arms around her, easily pulling her small form back against his chest.

“Quitting what?” he asked, nuzzling her hair affectionately. “Your job or this relationship?” She felt her heart flutter and the corners of her mouth twist at the word. ‘Relationship’. Something long-term, something important. Something that ignited a warmth in her chest and a fire in her belly. She pressed her face into the pillow, trying to hide her smile from him and pretend that she was still mad at his proclamation.

“Both,” she replied, her words muffled by the pillow she’d buried her face in. But he could hear the smile in her voice - the happiness he’d provoked in her by using that word. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, delighted by how easy it was to make her so happy.

“Too bad. I don’t allow it,” he murmured into her hair. “Te amo, mi arañita preciosa.”

X giggled and raised her head so he'd hear her words clearly. “Te amo también, mi cariño hermoso.”

Tags: @heubstr

51 notes · View notes

mariaofdoranelle · 1 year

Text

URDAD - part 2

Concentration gradient: going down on you

Fic masterlist

Long story short, I lost track of my writing schedule because I’m on a break with none of the routine my neurodivergent brain needs to function. I’m figuring it out. I’ll post LAUN as soon as I can. Here’s some ✨apology smut✨ hehe have fun

Warnings: language, NSFW

Words: 2k

Dr. Whitethorn looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

His eyes lingered on her body for a second before they snapped back to her face. “Is everything alright?”

Aelin strolled his way without fixing her half-open robe, and moved a book so she could sit on his desk. Dr. Whitethorn didn’t restrain his gaze when she crossed her legs.

“I think I have a fever.” Aelin tilted her head, looking him in the eye. “I’m burning up, Doctor, and there’s also this ache. It’s torture.”

“Oh.” He tore his eyes off her and slightly shook his head, as if shaking something off his mind. “I’m sure I have a thermometer somewhere.”

While Dr. Whitethorn looked for his thermometer with his back to her, Aelin took her robe off.

“Got it!” He turned around with the device in his hand, but his expression changed. Dr. Whitethorn’s eyes were blown wide, lips slowly parting as he took her new state in. “Where’s your robe?”

Aelin tilted her head, exposing her neck while feigning confusion. “I thought you were going to examine me.”

“I-“ Rowan’s mouth opened and closed before something clicked and his eyes got full of determination. “We don’t need a thermometer, do we?” He closed the few steps between them, setting the thermometer down. Instead, he put one hand on the desk, next to where Aelin was sitting, and the other against her forehead. “Very feverish indeed.” The back of his hand ignited her as it softly slid against her cheek and neck. “Look, you’re shivering.”

Aelin nodded, lips parted. “I might even need continuous care.”

"I'd advise you to stay out of trouble and rest.” The hand he kept on the desk slipped to her thigh, tracing idle circles as it went up. “But I don’t think you’d follow my orders.”

“You’re wrong about that.” Aelin leaned away a little to look him in the eye, thrusting her chest out in the way and feigning innocence with her eyes. “I’ll follow every order you give me, Doctor.”

A shattered breath left his lungs, and he closed his eyes before continuing, “If you want me to take care of you…” Dr. Whitethorn sneaked his way towards her throat, applying enough pressure to send a jolt of electricity down Aelin’s spine. “You have to say my name.”

“Dr. Whi—“

He squeezed her throat harder, making a trail of goosebumps erupt on her skin. “Say my name, Aelin.”

“Rowan,” she rasped, slightly rocking her hips against his desk, desperate for any sort of friction.

His lips were almost brushing against the shell of her ear when he whispered, “Good girl.”

Aelin turned her face to him, but he still gripped her chin to meet her lips halfway. Rowan’s kiss was ravenous, he took over her mouth and turned Aelin’s blood into wildfire with every possessive swirl of his tongue.

She slid to the end of the desk, trying to meet his hips, and the movement gave him leverage to work on her neck. His rough kisses on her pulse point made her breath hitch, but Aelin wasn’t expecting it when Rowan yanked the thin strap of her nightgown, exposing one breast just to cover it with his hand.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” His voice was hoarse as he slid his fingers under her lacy panties. “But you know that already, don’t you?” He toyed with her entrance for a moment before plunging one finger in, curling it right at the spot that made her see stars. “You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t know how gorgeous you are.”

Aelin whimpered, grinding against his now two fingers before she replied, “I like hearing it better when it comes from your mouth.”

He let his free hand tease her nipple and wander around her breast, collarbone, neck, before holding her chin and tilting towards him.

“Turn around,” he commanded while removing his fingers from inside her.

Aelin frowned at the change, but complied.

“Bend.”

She leaned over his desk, not missing how her short nightgown rode up as she did, and now her ass was sticking out, unprotected from the AC’s cold air and—

Rowan smacked her ass, and it lingered in a way that made her ache and press her thighs together with need.

He leaned over her, yanked her hair so it wasn’t covering her ear, and whispered, “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

Rubbing the redness off, he pecked her shoulder from behind, and gave her a moment to recover. However, that lingering burn only intensified when Rowan spanked her again.

One.

Two.

Three times.

"And this is for toying with me to get revenge."

Aelin‘s mind was too fuzzy to process his words now. She was trembling, whimpering on his desk when Rowan mentioned for her to turn around. He kneeled when she did, and the sight of him guiding her leg so it could rest on his broad shoulder made her insides flush.

Rowan didn’t spare a second before greeting her pussy with his tongue, looking her in the eye as he tasted her folds and massaged her clit. She was a whimpering mess, holding herself upright with one hand, her nerves on fire. The sight of Dr. Whitethorn worshiping her on his knees was enough to make her brain short-circuit.

He leaned away for a moment, lips parted and chin glistening with her wetness as he slowly pushed two fingers in. Trying to watch her gasp and his fingers filling her in at the same time, Rowan didn’t know where to look. He was taking her dismantled state in when Aelin grabbed his hair and led his mouth back to her.

It was too much. With his tongue on her clit while he fucked her with his fingers, Aelin felt like she was shattering from the inside out, ready to burst. Rowan toyed with her as she fell to pieces on his mouth, but she couldn’t last much longer.

Aelin cried out, knees buckling as shockwaves rippled through her body. He drew it out, not stopping until she went limp and muttering that she was being such a good girl and taking his fingers so well.

Rowan got up and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. She couldn’t understand what the look in his eyes meant, so Aelin pulled him in for another kiss.

This one was long and sweet, with Rowan rolling his tongue over hers like he had nowhere to go. He held her face with both hands and such care as if she was something precious, gently caressing her with his thumb. Aelin tugged on his waist, closing whatever little distance still was between them.

Instead of heating things up like she silently ordered, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling, and they just stayed there, silent. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but Aelin wasn’t able to think a lot herself.

She ran her hands over his chest, through his cotton shirt. How can a fully-clothed person give her a mind-blowing orgasm like this?

˜˜

Dr. Whitethorn was avoiding her.

Aelin had her suspicions when he didn’t do anything after giving her head, then didn’t show up for breakfast this morning before going to work. However, it was only confirmed when Dr. Towers commented how weird it was that he asked her intern to pick up the patient’s results at the lab.

Which meant he forgot how to send the images and his report in the new software, and printed them out instead of asking Aelin for help.

She was striding down the hospital halls, her heartbeat strong as she calculated what to say.

Rowan’s spine went rigid when she stormed in unannounced, but he still gave her a close-lipped smile.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I guess I should grow a sixth sense to know when you need help with Anne Jausten, since you’re avoiding me now.”

His face fell. “I’m not avoiding you, I’m…” he trailed, feeling the weight of her suspicious gaze. ”buying some time before we talk.”

Aelin sat on the chair beside his and crossed her arms. “Talk about what? How you fingered me into oblivion and ghosted?”

He had the gall to flush on the cheeks. “I didn’t mean to ghost you, I was just trying to sort things out by myself first because I need to be straightforward with you.” He sighed, his eyes looked pained when he said, “Last night shouldn’t have happened.”

What. Aelin blinked, thoughts frozen as her chest tightened.

He continued, ”You were hurt. Still is, probably. Angry, too. I should’ve been the one to stop, so we can just blame this on me and pretend it didn’t happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Aelin’s mouth hung open for a second, not quite understanding his train of thought. Rowan had an unannounced woman throwing herself at him in a flimsy nightgown and gave her earth-shattering oral without having a single orgasm in return. How in hell did he turn himself into the bad guy? She replied in a matter-of-fact tone, “I’m an adult too, Rowan, and I wouldn’t show up at your office half-naked if I wanted you to stop.”

He swallowed, his gaze a little too intense before he averted it. He pulled in a breath and slowly released it, his shoulders looking heavier each second. Rowan replied in a quieter voice, “Look, Aelin, I can’t be a pawn you use to get back at my daughter. I’m not saying Imogen’s right, you have every right to be mad at her, I’m just saying I have my own feelings to protect before engaging in whatever you two have going on.”

Oh. His words tied off whatever thread was tightening her chest, and now she felt it expand again, full of warmth. So that’s why he was acting weird. Rowan thought the only reason she sought him was to get back at Imogen.

Well, that was kind of true. Not completely, though.

“That’s one way to see it.” She tilted her head and ignored the way her pulse got faster. Laying all her feelings and intentions like this wasn’t what Aelin was used to doing with the guys her age, but it was better this way. “The way I see it, is that there’s this thing I’ve always wanted to do, but never did out of loyalty. But now the only tie holding me back is broken, so…” she trailed when something seemed to click inside his head, making his eyes widen.

“Are you telling me you were interested in me before it was convenient for you?”

Aelin nodded in response, trying to look earnest and not laugh at his confused face. The poor thing, so clueless of the effect he had on her.

“Huh.” Rowan frowned at Mora, the microscope, as he analyzed this new piece of information. “I hadn’t considered that.”

Unable to restrain herself, Aelin squeezed his fingers. “Well, you should.”

He slowly nodded, still quiet. It was cute to watch him like that, all flustered and not quite processing that a girl actually liked him.

Now that he knew it, she decided to give him space to mull this over. “There’s this broken monitor in the ER. I should go before Chief Salvaterre throws a hissy fit.”

“Sure.” Rowan aimed her a small smile. “See you at dinner?”

Aelin grinned, walking backwards to the door. “Or when you need help with Anne Jausten.”

You can get notifications when I update by either following me on @backtobl4ck-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

TAG LIST

I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

@aelinchocolatelover

@autumnbabylon

@bookcide

@booksandteaonarainydayislife

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@courtofjurdan

@dreamer-133

@elentiyawhitethorn

@elizarikaallen

@empress-ofbloodshed

@fangirlprincess09

@goddess-aelin

@gracie-rosee

@leiawritesstories

@lululululululuop

@renxzs

@rowanaelinn

@sarahjswift

@superspiritfestival

@swankii-art-teacher

@s-uppertime

@thegreyj

@violet-mermaid7

@wishfulimaginings

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic #URDAD

93 notes · View notes

jumpywhumpywriter · 3 months

Text

Beautiful Blood -- Sadistic Vampire Whumper Keeping Human Pets part 9

TW: violence, blood, intimate Vampire whump, death, forced servitude

Asher's terrified silence was answer enough, and the man's smile broadened as he put a hand on the wall next to his head, caging him into the corner.

"I've heard so much about you," he drawled, and lazily ran a finger over the human boy's shoulder, grinning playfully at the way Asher shuddered under his touch.

"It's a pity Nyx hasn't let anyone near you yet," he mused. "You would be the center of attention at a party like this. It must be pure luck for me to find you alone here..." the vampire's head tilted to the side as he trailed off suggestively.

"I'm Kaden, by the way. It's truly a pleasure to meet you..." He leaned his head down to the side of Asher's neck, toying with him and chuckling at the way he flinched. Kaden's breath was hot against his skin, and Asher shivered at the light scrape of fangs above his carotid artery. He couldn't help his eyes flicking over Kaden's shoulder to Callum's barely stirring figure, dread and terror twisting his stomach as he realized he could join him soon.

Asher's legs felt like they might buckle under him at any second with fear, his whole body trembling violently. "P-Please--D-Don't--" his voice came out in a shallow rasp of air, his chest tight. Time seemed to stop; the menacing aura radiating off Kaden was withering, overwhelming. He was death made flesh.

Asher's breath hitched, and he scrunched his eyes shut in anticipation, awaiting the blasting pain, the feeling of his own throat being ripped out by a stranger.

"Don't... what?" Kaden whispered teasingly in his ear. "Go on, finish that sentence. I'll give you a minute to talk me out of sampling your blood, just for the fun of it."

Asher was pretty sure he'd do it anyway, but he desperately needed to buy himself time. Surely Nyx would arrive any second now to save him, even if he hated her.

"D-Don't.... F-Feed on me... please..." He stammered hopelessly.

Kaden smirked. "That wasn't very convincing." There was another scrape of fangs against Asher's neck -- before the sharp pain hit as Kaden roughly bit down.

Asher couldn't help the cry of agony that tore loose from him at the intensity of it, a far worse experience than even Nyx. His breathing became shallow and ragged as Kaden pressed into him, a wave of dizzying nausea overcoming him.

Kaden growled hungrily, drinking more with each passing second. Asher's unique blood was like a drug to him, intoxicatingly sweet, satisfying something deep inside that normal human blood could never fully sate.

Asher fumbled to push the vampire away, find some opening to escape, but his strength was starting to fail him, and Kaden was just... too... strong.

The world was a blur of pain, and he was only distantly aware of shouting coming from somewhere close by, a heartbeat before the fangs were ripped painfully from his neck. There was screaming -- but it wasn't coming from him.

Asher slid down along the wall to the floor, panting and in shock, as the world came back into focus. He saw Nyx with her teeth buried deep into Kaden's shoulder as she roughly wrenched him away from him, even as the other vampire shrieked in agony.

Kaden struggled and thrashed, his screams splitting the air, but Nyx only sank her fangs deeper with an angry growl, before whirling around and slamming him into the wall behind her with enough force to break bones, finally releasing him as he fell to the floor with a groan.

"How DARE you attack my servants!" She roared with fury, and drove her foot into Kaden's gut, making him curl in on himself with a gasp as her foot connected with his ribs. Then she leaned down and grabbed him by the hair, yanking him to his feet with his head wrenched painfully far back, as she forced him to look at her.

"Unforgivable," she snarled into his face, her eyes blazing with rage. Then she viciously sank her fangs into Kaden's jugular, choking off more screams. She pulled her fangs back out a second later, and Kaden went down gurgling, writhing and twitching weakly as he bled out on the fancy marbled floor.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

10 notes · View notes

olive-gardens-breadstick · 1 year

Text

part 3 of my hope!hob Pandora's box au

part 1 part 2

word count: 1317

Once they got through the door of his apartment, Morpheus hung up his keys, sat the various bags by the door and started towards the kitchen. "I'm gonna make us some tea, do you have a preference?"

"what do you have?" hope asked heading to the living room to look at all the things morpheus had strewn around in there, morpheus noted the way he held every item as if they were the most important and delicate things in the world with wonder on his face, as if he could see something morpheus, the owner of said items, could pointedly NOT see. he's been staring too long. open the cabinet, this is ridiculous, he is far beyond your comprehension "uh, I’ve got black, green, chamomile, raspberry, jasmine, lavender, lemon, hibiscus, and rose" saying the list outloud made morpheus feel like he had to much until he heard hope scurrying towards the kitchen ending with him bracing himself on the door frame with a (very bright) look of joy on his face.

"They made tea out of roses?" He said it so softly and full of awe, as if the very thought of such a thing existing put the world in a new light, and technically it did, there was a delicate glow radiating off of hope, drenching his apartment in warm light that he could almost feel his possessions absorbing. looking back at hope, and subsequently in his eyes, morpheus could see... something, he wasn't sure what but there was definitely something there.

"yes, they did" he said still holding the cabinet open and nodding slowly "would you like some?" hope smiled and nodded his head quickly "would like honey and sugar in it?" somehow hope got even brighter as he nodded.

Hob watched morpheus as he made tea, he noted how every move he made was graceful and precise, he made it seem like this kitchen was a stage, and with that ruby around his neck it seemed like he was in costume. the ruby was large, larger than any jewels he had seen people on the street wearing while they were out, it was also set differently than them too, older maybe?

"Where'd you get that ruby?" he asked walking a little closer

"hm?" looking up from the cup of tea and turning to him "oh, my husband gave it to me before we got married." he said handing hope the tea.

"you're married?" hob could feel his light dimming.

"Oh no, that was a very very long time ago. He's been dead a long time" he sighed as he walked back to the kitchen to make his own cup of tea.

"do you miss him?" had he been human hob would’ve said that the words caught in his throat and tore it up and he didn't know why. but he's not human so he won't say that.

"no, not really" he said without looking up from his cup "i didn't really want to marry him in the first place"

"Then why'd you marry him?" his not-a-throat is fine now.

"my parents wanted me to, and i didn't really have anything else going on so..." the nonchalance and the dismissive hand wave he had when he said this baffled hope, it was as if he was talking about going to the market with someone who was already planning to go to the market, not MARRYING SOMEONE.

"could you tell me about him?" Hope asked, sipping his tea and sitting down on the couch.

"you really want to hear about that?" he asked, sitting down on an armchair "it's really not that interesting."

"Well you still need to tell me a story, you haven't told me one yet!" he said eagerly, leaning forward. "you don't have to talk about just him, you can tell me about your family, your village, how you met my sister? because how DID you meet her? let me hear about your life before you tell me about everyone else's."

"al-alright um," he said shifting in his seat "well, let's start with my family i suppose"

Morpheus talked about his village, and how everyone knew everyone, the feuds, the loves, the market and the woman who sold the best oranges and how she saved a few just for him every week. about the old story teller in the square that everyone thought was crazy and the stories he'd heard from him. how his mother made fish at the solstices. how he didnt know the people of his village very well, just all their problems that came up in the gossip, which he also talked about. He talked about how they spoke of him, calling him 'hopeless' and the distance they kept from him.

He talked of how he met his husband. He talked of their wedding, about life living in his husband's kastro and how he felt like he was just there to be a pretty face to walk the halls. He talked of the kastro staff and their gossip, about the night he met death. how his life went after that, the worship in the beginning (which he was not fond of), the way they hunted him eventually. he talked of each life and each name he lived their virtues and vices and pointed to the various items around the room while he did so, mere scraps to hold entire lives in his hands.

By the time he stopped talking, the sun had set and the moon was high. Hope's tea was gone and morpheus's tea was cold and long forgotten in the cup he held.

“ah” he sighed “looks like i’ve kept you nearly long enough to see apollo again,” he placed his cup on the side table “suppose that will have to do for now, i’ve got to be getting ready for work.” he said as he started getting up.

it was a strange thing, to see hope scurry, this time at least, earlier, well yesterday really, the scurry held wonder and well, hope, this scurry however, was different it was more, oh what’s the word? that’s the problem with being a writer (and knowing far more languages than any man should really need to but that is beside the point) there’s to many words in your head, they get all mixed up. “can’t i come with you? i love to see what you teach!” morpheus contemplated it for a moment ‘it would help him underst- Hazel Tarcey has class today and i'd never hear the end of it' morpheus sucked in a breath "perhaps another time, i have to... conduct a mid... semester... check in." he desperately (was that the word he was looking for?) hopes that was at all convincing "i'd hate to have my students fall behind." hes smiles, around 700 a.d. he figured out that if he smiled after a lie people seemed to believe him, he wasn't sure why. He ALSO learned to use it sparingly around the 1500s. it was rather bothersome being hanged, always left a large bruise on his neck (for weeks!) and he'd always have to play dead until nightfall.

"oh..! alright. well..." hope looked down at his feet then the rest of the room "is there... something i could..." Hope looked at him briefly then looked away again "never mind!" Hope laughed, morpheus tilted his head. "Just, light the candle when you've got another story for me!" Hope was smiling, but Morpheus wasn't sure it was really, he'd alway had trouble with that. "Okay, well... i'll see y, i'll... call? no that's not it... flame? absolutely not. I'll light the candle, see you later." with a hand wave he was off to his room, words the damned things.

Hob stood alone in the room. He didn't want to leave. "okay.. bye" he waved to no one. and dissipated as a sun beam from the sunrise filled the room.

TAG LIST: (its been so long im sorry)

@apples-no-oranges

@ehzrii-aerii

@s0ul4rsblog

28 notes · View notes

pokemon-ash-aus · 1 year

Note

False twins: What is the angriest Ash has ever been

Kinda spoilery for a future event but ive never been the type to try and hide everything i can :3

And this is in the faar future so it can still be retconned :D

---

**The smell of blood and metal permeated through the air, overwhelming sensitive nostrils and making Indigo's eyes water. He followed through into the broken door, paws padding gently against cool tiled flooring as bodies littered all around him.

He sneered, stopping the urge to pop every one of them before continuing his trek, opting to fly instead of continuing his meager walk.

Peach stood at the end, a black unkempt mess of fur in her arms. She looked worried, a soft look she only reserved for them when something was really really bad.

"Ash," Indigo flew over quickly, barely stopping himself from wincing as his brother shook.

He paused, reaching out to support Ash's other side, ears perking slightly at the slightly labor intensive breathing. Red eyes darted to him, slitted incredibly thin and wild in a way Indigo wasn't sure he'd seen on Ash before.

Lips curled over blood stained teeth, an anger rarely seen in their more mild tempered sibling.

Well- more tempered than Indigo and Peach at least.

"Let's get you home." Peach's voice held no room for argument. "Mom and Dad have been worried sick."

Tears lodged in Indigo's throat, feeling Ash tense in their arms before he nodded meekly, eyes screwing closed as his breath hitched.

"Let's," Ash agreed, voice falling flat as they began to lead him away.

As they tried.

Indigo tensed, the feeling of unease overwhelming him as he quickly set up a Protect, barely able to stop his limbs from shaking at the sudden HyperBeam that tore through the rooms.

And there he was.

Ash snarled in their arms, eyes growing more wild and untamed as his Aura feelers rose sharply.

Giovanni stood tall, not looking a day older than when they had last seen him. A Nidoking standing tall by his side.

"You have something of mine." His voice was sharp, and Indigo could never imagine him being related to his sweet old dad.

Peach scowled, electricity dancing across her fur as she raised her arm sharply, sending the Nidoking crashing a few rooms back.

Giovanni didn't even flinch.

Indigo shivered.

"Yeah," Indigo startled, jerking when Ash suddenly swung himself off his hold. "I have something of yours."

And Giovanni grinned, wild and vicious in a way that screamed insanity.

It unnerved Indigo that Ash had a matching wild look.

Instead, his brother raised both his arms pulling at a power that they couldn't comprehend fully.

Giovanni's face dropped.

Before Indigo could wonder what was happening, the man began to writhe, screaming as a familiar blue surrounded his body.

With nothing more than a muted thought, Indigo simply watched as Ash rose the man up by his vices and slammed him into the floor.

Over.

And over.

And over again.

The crater began to well, and Indigo could hear the faint cracking of bones before Ash stopped, his body shaking angrily as Giovanni's body simply fell.

He wasn't dead, but Indigo was sure he wanted to be.

Instead he glanced at his younger brother. His eyes were still wild and angry and so very very hurt.

The tears that fell were familiar.

"Let's go home." Indigo repeated after Peach, placing a palm against Ash's shoulder.

Red slitted eyes turned wide, pupils expanding.

Ash nodded, swallowing thickly as tears fell.

None of them said another word, only supporting their brother as they silently flew out the building together.

None of them said a word as the building rumbled behind them, pretending that Ash's tail wasn't thrashing wildly and the sharp pain of blue that echoed their peripherals.

He was finally coming home, and that's all Indigo cared about.**

#False twin au #writing #Fanfic

96 notes · View notes

occasionallyprosie · 7 months

Text

A Thousand Ways

Chapter 5: "Forests, Farms, and Family"

In the middle of the night, Legend finds himself dropped into an unknown forest with nothing more than an assassin's knife and magic he only just learned.

First | <<Previous | Next>>

Not Febuwhump (aka continuing plot)

Read On AO3 Warnings: None :)

He woke up falling.

Legend cursed loudly when he hit the ground. He dragged himself to his feet and flicked out the knife he'd kept on his person since the assassination attempt.

He was in a forest, tall winding trees in numerous shades of green. The ground didn't have much in the way of fallen leaves but soft grass and underbrush.

The portal must've come in the night. He hated it when they did that.

He didn't recognize the forest nor its magic. It was familiar, that was for sure, and dark. He'd been here before, but with how much time travel he'd done, he still was unsure.

"Okay, okay," he let out a soft breath, "you're in an unknown forest— boots!"

At least the portal had dropped his boots with him. He pulled the shoes on, raising his head to study his dark surroundings.

He didn't have anything else, he didn't see anything else. So he looked up at the stars and almost pouted at seeing nothing. A cloudy night then, no wonder it was so dark.

"Right," he muttered. "Unknown forest, unknown era... no equipment. Adventure number four all over again."

He'd be fine. At least he had a weapon this time.

"Not fine!"

Legend cursed all that was holy as he weaved through the trees. He tried to catch the half dozen monsters trying to kill him off guard. He managed to flank the moblin and tore a fairly deep gash in its side only to nearly get cut in the face by one of Wild's stupid lizalfo's tongues.

He managed to steal a sword off an armos and though it was as brittle as its armor, he used it long enough to take out the two bokos before it snapped and he threw it in the lizalfos' face.

The moblin, black blood seeping from the gash in its side, lumbered toward him completely unhindered.

An explosion of fire sent it flying back.

Legend panted, staggering a bit as he scanned his surroundings for more monsters.

He had to find either civilization or the others. Where the first monsters he ran into had been homogeneously from Warriors' era, this one had been from all across the timeline and two —the moblin and one of the bokos— had black blood.

He pushed himself to his feet and kept running.

He really needed to find safety.

He found a farmhouse.

It'd have to do. He needed bandages or at least directions to the nearest town.

Despite the time, he went up to the front door and knocked, trying to subtly hold his side to apply pressure on a gash. His hair ended up tied up with the remains of his green under-tunic, leaving it in a high ponytail as a result.

The door opened. "Yes—oh!"

It was a young woman, she had blonde hair tied in pigtail braids, wearing a white shirt and a pink skirt.

"Sorry," he winced. "I just need directions to the nearest town, that's—"

"Oh no you don't." She pulled the door fully open. "Come on in. Momma! We got a hurt kid!"

Legend startled back, but the girl grabbed his arm and tugged him inside. An older blonde woman came in, gasping softly.

"Oh! Linkle go get some bandages and a potion!"

The older woman took Legend from the girl, Linkle, and tugged her over to the sofa.

"No, I don't want to—"

"You are just fine, young man," the woman said sternly. "We are helping you and don't you make a fuss about it. The closest town's a two hour journey from 'ere."

Legend sighed. He knew better than to argue with farm women who had their minds set on things. His grandmother was the only person in his life he hadn't been able to dissuade from things they had their hearts and minds set on.

He reluctantly complied, Linkle and a younger red-haired girl coming in with medical supplies. It didn't take long to clean and bandage the gash in his side, and the older woman had all but forced the potion down his throat when he tried to argue against using it.

The young girl suddenly returned with a cup of tea and the older woman pushed it into his hands.

"Drink up, young man," the woman told him. "Can you tell us what happened? Where's your family?"

Legend snorted a bit. "I ran into monsters trying to catch up with them. I'm on a sort of trip with... with my brothers, and we got separated a while back. I can usually handle myself fine, but someone kinda stole my supplies, so all I got is a knife."

"Oh that sucks," Linkle grimaced. "What's your name?"

"Link."

"Really? My brother's got the same name, though a lotta people do really. I'm Linkle, this is my baby sister Lily," the younger, red-haired girl who'd brought him the tea smiled brightly, "and this is my Momma, Leah."

"Thank you," he told them sincerely. "I owe you big time."

"It's no problem, dear," Leah assured him. "We're glad to help."

"Besides, Linkle's got too much of a savior complex to not help," Lily teased.

Linkle rolled her eyes. "Oh shut up."

"You can stay here for the night," Leah told Legend, holding up her hand before he could argue. "Linkle will take you to town in the morning, she's got plenty of allowance from the Queen to help you get back on your feet. And don't you try and avoid it. I want you with a full bag of provisions, and a sword before you and her split ways, you hear me, young man?"

Legend stared at her. "I really don't need—"

Leah gave him a pointed look.

He sighed, slumping a bit. "Yes ma'am."

He learned their surname was Tailor, they had a whole herd of sheep and a cotton field, along with cuccos that Linkle insisted on introducing Legend to.

He made a note to visit his grandparents soon when he got back to his time. He missed them, the Tailors reminded him of them and he hadn't been there in a while. He hadn't seen Epona or Piyoko in ages...

As he and Linkle headed for the village, a portal appeared in front of them.

"Whoa!" Linkle pulled out a crossbow and shoved him back. "What's that?!"

"It's a portal," he said, pushing her arm down. "I, uhh... that "sort-of trip" I'm on with my brothers? It's kinda across time?"

She stared at him. "Oh. Wait, so this is for you?"

"Yep. And it doesn't really like to wait otherwise it just appears under my feet. So—Thank you so much for the help, but I got to go."

She sighed, scowling at the portal. "Rude. We had plans today!" The portal didn't respond. "Oh fine. Go. But be careful!"

"I will. This isn't my first rodeo."

She laughed. "Ain't mine either, but that don't mean I'm not careful. Go back to those grandparents of yours in one piece, you hear me?"

He smiled and nodded. "I intend to. I'll see if I can bring Piyoko with me, maybe I'll be able to introduce you."

"You better! Now git."

Legend laughed and he went through the portal.

The next world was definitely Wild's. He figured that out quickly when he found himself on a cliff overlooking a vast kingdom.

The cliff turned out to be a plateau with exactly zero ways down.

He cleared the plateau of monsters, stealing a few brittle swords as he went and using them to go for the bright yellow, practically golden, lynel, cursing the Champion's world as he did.

He internally thanked Twilight's Zelda for teaching him some actually offensive magic. Din's Fire was unbelievably helpful and Nayru's Love had already saved his life against the lynel multiple times.

He ducked behind one of the few remaining trees, panting heavily. The lynel roared behind him.

The plateau was uninhabited, he'd searched the whole thing. Despite the ruins of a temple and the old hut, there was nobody except monsters and animals. Monsters hell-bent on killing him.

"Alright, magic don't fail me now."

Farore's Wind took him from behind the tree to another spot about ten feet to his left. He ran at the lynel, which roared when it took a second too long to notice him.

He slid beneath the lynel, dragging a brittle sword through its stomach. It broke but did enough that he was able to swing himself onto its back. Exactly like the Champion had shown him what felt like ages ago. He had called it ride or die... a very apt name.

He teleported above the lynel and drove the only other weapon he had, a short sword, into its skull with a downward thrust.

It sent him flying that time and he tumbled across the ground. He hissed out his pain, quickly recovering to his feet out of pure necessity. Was that stupid thing dead yet—

It was. It crumbled to the ground and stayed there, smoking away.

He let out a sigh of relief, dropping to one knee as he breathed heavily. He assessed his supplies and situation.

The weapons were definitely broken. He suddenly understood why Wild was always breaking weapons, the ones in his era were incredibly deteriorated, brittle, and cheap.

Legend dragged himself back to his feet and made his way to the alcove near the temple ruins. A weak fire spell had a campfire going just as the sun set, and he ate a few apples before leaning back and letting himself rest, not sleep, never sleep.

He'd find a way down the plateau in the morning.

Legend walked around the edge of the plateau, looking for the lowest point. He didn't have his Roc's Cape or a hookshot, Farore's Wind didn't go as far as the wall was. It was at least fifty feet up, if not more.

He could just fall, use the spell, and hope for the best...

No, he could see the monsters down there. He was not doing that.

He didn't want to just wait out the portal. Maybe he could make some kind of rope from vines and repel down...

He ended up waiting out the portal, repelling down to the ground only for the portal to show up ten feet after he landed.

He cursed loudly but walked through.

This time he was in another forest, with... big glowing mushrooms.

He hardly hesitated to tap the luminous fungi and they bounced and jiggled in response. Legend stared, very confused by the odd flora. He pulled out his knife and carefully tried to cut it.

It cut easily, but very quickly it just... fixed itself. He brushed his hand over the gash he'd made and felt no difference, no seam, nothing.

"Huh," he muttered. What in the name of...

He tried cutting out a whole piece of it, holding the mushroom piece in one hand, and as the large mushroom reformed, the one in his hand became almost liquidated and he quickly tried to drop it.

A new, smaller mushroom had sprung up where it had landed.

Okay... probably should not make a mushroom army that may or may not one day become sentient. He did not need that on his conscience.

"Hey!"

He whirled around, Din's Fire burning up his fingers and knife spinning into a reverse grip in his hands.

A girl, probably mid-twenties, stood there in a magenta-pink tunic somewhat similar to the one Twilight wore, with steel chainmail under the tunic. She had ribbons weaved into her very blonde hair, framing her face.

That wasn't the big thing though. The big thing was how bright she was.

Her magic positively glowed, she was brighter than the sun itself and so thick with divinity as well. He was near certain she was a goddess except he knew the Golden Three's magic, and she wasn't any of them.

Who was that goddess that Sky and Wild worshiped? It was a lake— Hylia? That sounded about right, the reflection of Lolia.

"Who are you?" She questioned, eyes alight with curiosity that burned through him, her eyes flicked all over him, to his fingertips, chest, and face, he didn't like it. "I've never seen you before."

"Link," he said. "Who are you?"

"Zelda," she approached him but didn't come that close, "Knight of Skyloft. There's no humans on the Surface, and the only Link around is my fiancé. The humans all died to Demise's armies. But you... you have Heart in your blood."

"I think it's 'blood in my heart,'" Legend corrected, letting Din's Fire fade back into his blood. The constant thrum of fire in his veins was a nice if not weird change since he learned the spell.

"No," she shook her head, "you have Courage in your soul, it was built into it, integral to it, and just like the Courageous Spirit you have, you have Heart, Love, Light, in your blood."

Legend studied her. He realized the brightness she had, the origin of her magic, it was the same as Fable's. Twilight's Zelda had it too... he'd attributed it to wielding a piece of the Triforce, which was why he had it too.

"You have my grace in your veins," she moved even closer and Legend took a matching step back. "You've time traveled," she concluded.

Legend stared at her. "Excuse me. What?"

"You're not from here, but Nayru has left her mark on you. I know every human alive and you clearly have my power in your blood." She grinned as she leaned forward. "You're my descendant! I can feel it--No, wait, Link and I plan to have kids someday--you're our descendant! That's why you have both Farore and I in your being more prominently than Din or Nayru, even though they've both left their mark on you as well. You are very familiar with the three's power."

Oh, so it was Hylia. This was Sky's Zelda, the goddess reborn as a mortal. The goddess whose bloodline was that of the royal family's.

"You're a child of the goddesses," she concluded.

Legend found his voice failing him. "No—I'm not. I couldn't—Yes I'm of Farore but I'm not— I don't have—I'm not descended from—"

Her grin softened into a gentle smile. "You didn't know?" She guessed, her voice far softer. "I may not exactly have experience with having a child, but I can tell you that your blood has divinity in it, and I know the golden three's blood claim intimately. You have my blood claim. I can see it."

He felt faint.

He couldn't even argue it, her point wasn't a feeling or an observation, it was something—it was a literal, divine revelation.

The goddess —mortal though she was— herself had to tell him that he was her descendant.

"Oh," he breathed, his voice shaking.

She smiled. "Here, we're building a settlement here on the surface. Why don't you come see it?"

The beginning of Hyrule... of...

He managed to give a small nod. When he didn't move, Zelda grabbed his hand and led him through the forest.

"You don't seem very prepared for this time, there are many servants of Demise around still. A knife and some magic? Oh, do you more often fight with your magic?"

Legend shrugged a bit. He wasn't sure what to say and so he fell back on silence. Zelda smiled at him.

"Link does that too when he's overwhelmed," she informed him softly and he was not accustomed to the fondness she displayed, Twilight's Zelda had done the same. "How much do you know about Skyloft?"

Feeling a bit called out, he cleared his throat and forced out, "Not a lot." Sky had said a fair bit about it, but not as much as Legend would probably info dump about Labrynna or Holodrum, and therefore wasn't all that much.

She nodded and soon launched into a full-blown history lesson on how Skyloft was raised.

Legend listened, trying to hold onto her words and remember them while also trying to keep his world from spinning and flipping on its axis.

Twilight's Zelda had been right.

Zellie and Little Link — They were Fable and Legend, just... from an alternate timeline.

Fable was his sister.

Why... How didn't he know this sooner?

As they walked, they heard a loud blaring horn. A war horn echoed through the forest and the ground trembled with it.

To Legend's absolute horror, a whole horde of monsters were filtering through the trees toward them.

"Get back!" Zelda pushed him back, drawing a sword. "Go straight east, Hyrule Town is—"

"Respectfully, I'm not leaving you alone," Legend said bluntly. He counted thirty-ish monsters about forty yards out. He flicked out his knife.

"You can't—"

"I promise you, I can. You take care of yourself, I don't doubt you can, but Sky would kill me if I let anything happen to you."

Zelda faltered. Then she must've recognized something in him. "You have..." her voice trailed off. "You have his..." Then her face hardened and she nodded to him. "Be careful. Come out of it alive."

Legend grinned. "Of course."

They both rushed the monsters the last twenty yards between them.

Fighting with a tiny knife was not easy, fighting with magic was a bit easier.

He managed to modify Din's Fire, mixing it with Nayru's Love and essentially forming a sphere of fire around him.

He stole blades off monsters, dancing through the battlefield to a melody he'd long trained his steps to follow. The beat quickened as his heartbeat raced faster and faster from adrenaline. The melody matched his heart rate.

Then he ran into the black blooded monsters.

He didn't miss a beat, he had a great rhythm going. He slashed through one, leaving it to recover in order to dive beneath the swinging arm of another, scale its back, and drive the horribly crafted blade he'd stolen off a bokoblin into its nape and drag it down over the recovering other black blooded monster.

One would not be getting up and the other would take a moment.

Legend burst both into flames, fire exploding from an orb and he dodged to the side from a sharp tongue shooting out.

He cut the tongue with his knife and the lizalfos it was connected to screeched loudly, had it spoken any of the half dozen languages Legend spoke, he was certain he would've heard many profanities.

He ended up nearly kicking a head or two off. Rolling into his landing and springing up onto another moblin's back to carve its spine open.

More monsters filled in the spaces above fallen bodies.

His hands were slick with red, purple, and black blood. His clothes soaked. His hair was beginning to come loose and he couldn't stop it either.

The moment the last monster was gone, Legend turned to find Zelda and she was grinning at him.

"We did it!" She exclaimed, covered in blood too. "Are you alright? Do you need a potion?"

Legend laughed. "I'm fine. Are you..."

He spotted someone over her shoulder and that adrenaline suddenly shot back up.

"TRAVELER!"

Hyrule stared at him in clear shock. "VETERAN?!"

He tried to run toward the other hero, but one steady step was followed by air beneath his foot.

A portal formed beneath him and the last thing he saw before falling through and instinctively curling to try and minimize damage from his landing, was Hyrule's bright eyes filling with shock, hope, and a bit of disbelief.

He slammed onto new ground. His head spun and he almost wanted to vomit as he hit his knees and elbow on the soft, grassy surface.

A groan escaped him. That was an awful portal.

He dragged himself to his feet and looked around, blinking away stars.

"Traveler?" He called out. "Traveler!"

Nothing.

Legend cursed loudly and he ignored how blood trickled down his arms and hands, tightening his grip on his knife and began searching the area for any sign of the other heroes. He hadn't sustained so bad of injuries that he was going to be feeling faint any time soon.

He'd been so close, goddesses, he had been so close.

Next>>

#linked universe #lu legend #linkeduniverse #legend lu #fanfic #lu hyrule #lu sun #lu fanfiction #linked universe fanfic #legend and sun get to fight a bunch of monsters #and win #goddess hylia #prosie writes #a thousand ways au

9 notes · View notes

i-used-to-wear-the-fedora · 2 years

Text

Mute Eddie AU, The Sound of Silence

Eddie Munson talked a lot. He loved to talk. He loved to yell, scream, sing, to say he was loud would be an understatement.

His last moments were spent playing the guitar and making as much noise as possible to attract the attention of the demobats and save his friends. Eddie Munson died a hero. At least, that's what he thought before he passed out drowning in his own blood.

Then he woke up. Eddie's eyebrows scrunching up in confusion as he realized he was in a small white hospital room. In one of the chairs next to his bed was his uncle Wayne, quietly snoring as he slept.

'Wayne?' Eddie called out. Well he tried to. But nothing came out of his mouth except a choked whine. The teen blinking in confusion at the pain in his throat. Looking down to see bandages that stretched from just under his jaw all the way down to his chest. Trying to sit up pained Eddie. Panic starting to set in as he wondered why he couldn't speak. More choked noises coming out before Wayne started to wake. Noticing Eddie's panic as he got up.

"Whoa, hey calm down kid." Wayne tried to reassure his nephew but it did little to help. Eddie frantically trying to get something, anything, out of his mouth but nothing came. Why couldn't he talk? Why did his throat and chest hurt so much? Trying to get out of the bed only resulted in his uncle pushing Eddie back down as he hit the call button next to the bed. Eddie trying to push the older man away when the door to the room opened where three people in scrubs rushed in. Eddie's eyes darting to them as the shorter woman spoke.

"Mr. Munson, please calm down." She said as she approached. "We know you're very confused about what's happening, but you need to make sure you don't stress your injuries any further, okay?" It took the goth a few moments to calm down enough to nod his head. Wayne moving back and allowing Eddie to crawl back into his hospital bed so he could lie down. The woman took a notepad and a pen from the table by the door and handed it to the young man. Immediately he began writing and in large lettering quickly scribbled.

*Why can't I talk?*

"I'm...not at liberty to disclose too much information, but we believe that due to your attack, your vocal chords have been heavily damaged. You were covered it cuts and bites, it's a miracle you survived.''

Right. Demobats. Eddie's eyes narrowed and he wrote again.

*But it'll get better, right?*

The look the woman had on her face made Eddie's stomach drop.

"I'm sorry, but they're beyond repair. You'll never be able to talk again."

After that everything kind of blurred together. The doctors explaining everything, Wayne trying to talk to him, the cops and men in suits having him sign papers saying he was exonerated of all charges he'd been accused of. Eddie couldn't even remember the bullshit cover story they gave. He should've been elated that his name was finally cleared and the world didn't end but the teen couldn't bring himself to be happy about this.

The kids had tried to stop by to see him but he refused to let them in. Eddie didn't want anyone to see him like this.

"Boy, I know you're going through a lot, but wallowing alone ain't gonna solve anything." Wayne tried to get through Eddie but the boy simply responded by rolling over to face away from the man. He could feel his uncle staring at his back but he stubbornly refused to look back at him.

It was another week before the young man was finally discharged. Apparently an "earthquake" tore through Hawkins and destroyed about half the town. Including their trailer park. The suits that had them sign nondisclosure agreements had so "generously" relocated them to an apartment building near the edge of town. Save a few pieces of furniture from the thrift store, the place was almost completely bare. Eddie frowned as he looked at the plain white walls, holding the small plastic bag of personal effects he had left in a tight grip.

Going into the room designated as his, Eddie locked the door behind him and plopped down on the bare mattress that still didn't have have a frame yet. Tossing the bag to side and laying down, Eddie curled into himself and now they he finally had the privacy to do so, the goth buried his face in his arms and he began to silently cry.

#stranger things #fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson #mute eddie au #disabled eddie munson #wayne munson #eddie munson lives #there will be comfort later but right we're on big sad boi hour

38 notes · View notes

justjessame · 3 months

Text

Light Through the Darkness: Chapter 19

Mystic Falls, VA September 28, 1864~Late evening

They'd left Abigail's bedside after an hours long vigil that hadn't changed her state. Although Damon had seen a few more tears escape, he hadn't attempted to touch her hand again. He wouldn't chance his brother's wrath, not until he knew he could do something to fix the mess they'd created.

While Stefan left to create another bonfire with his dinner scraps, Damon considered who he knew that could shed any light on Abigail's current state. The only person remotely knowledgeable about the supernatural still available in Mystic Falls, who did not want Damon and his brother dead on sight, would be Emily Bennett. Unfortunately, he wasn't completely sure where she would have headed after giving Stefan and him their daylight rings.

Contemplating the options of a witch connected to a known vampire, he realized hiding in plain site was probably her best option. He went into what was once his father's office, and was now his brother's room of revenge. Stefan kept a list of the Founders' that he'd exacted vengeance upon. Damon theorized that the family not on the list was probably protected by Emily. A witch with things to hide, could hide entire families.

He found Stefan's list and fought down his stomach's lurching. Scanning the names, he found one family missing. Neither crossed out, nor waiting to be. And in that, he knew where Emily was.

Damon decided to wait until midnight to go to the house in search of Emily. Stefan would be preoccupied with three or four dinner companions, after having crossed a name or two off his list. That would give him time to have a nice conversation with Emily, unhurried and without fear of being spied upon.

As he left their house, Stefan offered him a young lady who bore a disturbing resemblance to Abigail for a drink. Damon glared at his brother before he could stop himself. Did he even realize how disturbed he was? Did he think it was amusing? Or was it a test? His eyes locked on to his brother's and he realized the latter was most likely true.

Smirking with the irritation of an older brother being interrupted from his night out, Damon took the girl in his arms and tried to forget what made her look like Abigail. Focus, he told himself, on what wasn't. As he leaned in to drink, his new stronger senses took over and cataloged all the differences. The hair was a shade darker, her scent was wrong, her eyes more blue than green, and she was inches taller. He drank sparingly, enough to make Stefan happy, but not enough to kill the girl.

Handing her back, and wiping his mouth on his handkerchief, he moved toward the door. "Thank you, brother." He said, trying to keep his tone light. "Now I can be focused while I hunt for a more fulfilling meal."

"Why leave, brother?" Stefan taunted, pulling the poor exchange for Abigail firmly against his chest. "I brought more than enough to share." He leaned toward the girl and began to bite.

"I have plans," Damon said, tearing his eyes away, trying to get the image out of his head. "I'll be back later. Don't wait up."

He left then, trying to forget the sound of the girl crying as his brother tore at her throat, because of all the ways she was different from Abigail, that was the way they were most similar. Their voices, she hadn't spoke when he bit her, but as he walked out of the front door, she was begging Stefan to make the pain stop. To let her die. And in that voice, he heard Abigail.

Outside the house that Emily had taken refuge, Damon waited. Although midnight, he knew that the Bennett witch kept her own hours. As he watched, she exited the back door and made her way across the lawns, he followed keeping his distance until they were away from the lights of the house. Once that only a sliver of moon lit them, he let her know for certain he was behind her.

She nodded and led him to a copse of trees just off the road nearest the house where she was staying. Inside the circle, he waited as she whispered an incantation, knowing that she was hiding them from prying eyes.

"Hello, Emily." He said, when she finished. Her head tilt was the only answer he received, so he continued. "I assume you know about Stefan's current destructive path." When she again said nothing, he kept going. "Abigail is at the house as well."

"Abigail?" She whispered, confused. "She was supposed to leave." Her brow furrowed. "Her baggage, everything is gone."

He looked down, knowing all of this mess started when Emily's mistress had moved in. "She didn't. When I killed her," his voice grew quiet, "and buried her, she decided against leaving. She had missed the coach and ship. My father and Abigail, when he found her in our family tomb, they became closer." His eyes burned thinking about how affectionate they'd seemed when they entered the house not two days before. "She was staying."

Emily sighed and shook her head in angry frustration. "The imbalance in this town, and in nature is so great already, it's creating massive chaos." She glared at Damon. "Your brother, he wants what he cannot have. She is what he cannot hope to have." She was clenching her hands so tightly that her nails were biting into the palms, and blood was beginning to rise to the surface. "Where is she now?"

Damon looked up and she could see the pain and anguish in his eyes. "In her bedroom, she hasn't been awake since my brother ripped apart our father and every slave and Sallie and created something theatrical to show his affection." He was angry and felt horrible. "It was too much for her, Emily. I felt it," he didn't understand how it worked but tried to explain the shared feelings through the touching he'd done.

Emily nodded. "Perhaps it's best Abigail stay in the state she's in," she said, still tense. "If he cannot force her to make a choice, through horrific means, then she's safe."

Damon considered it, but feared that Abigail wouldn't withstand being terrorized by her own pain and grief on repeat. "She's trapped in darkness, Emily. All she has is the memories of the last terrors she felt and experienced. How is that better?"

The witch began pacing within their circle of trees. She was trying to decide how to make Abigail's "sleep" easier. Could she create a room, much like her own bedroom, that Abigail could "live" in until Stefan could be contained? She would have to contact the ancients, and it would take a day or two fully create the spell, but she realized one more issue.

"Damon, if I could create something to replace the darkness, her body would still be at his mercy." She looked at the Salvatore in front of her and saw the dawning of fear fall over him as well. "Where would you hide her?"

Damon knew it wouldn't be simple, but keeping Abigail out of his brother's insane clutches had to be given at least a try. He was thinking even as they both began pacing, their thoughts working toward the same goal, with different parts to plan.

#alternate universe #slow burn #damon salvatore x ofc #the vampire diaries

0 notes

casspurrjoybell-27 · 4 months

Text

Moving Forward - Chapter 17

*Warning Adult Content*

Action

From his position, Max could hear Gillespie's voice carry from the clearing.

Not that he could actually hear what was being said.

He didn't need to.

What he did need to hear were the first signs of attack.

They would be the signal for him leap of the branch and onto the back of the unsuspecting enemy werewolf.

Whether or not his team mate would be of any help depended on how successful Max's attack was.

There was nothing, absolute silence claimed the forest.

Rodents hid their burrows.

Birds stopped chirping.

Silence and silence equated to danger.

His prey wandered, pacing impatiently.

Apparently he was waiting for a signal but Max wasn't.

Max merely wanted it to stray close enough for him to take it down.

Now. With a single smooth leap, Max landed, claws out, on the wolf's back, using a single bite to crush its skull.

Not a single yelp escaped it, though as his teeth pulled out from its brain, one of the legs twitched.

Taking hold of the leg that twitched, Max pulled it into the tree.

Let the enemy come across it.

Let it serve as a warning.

The wolf Max was partnered with was watching him warily and gave a quiet whine.

They had to move.

Max followed her obediently onto the next target.

She took care of this one, laying in wait, as Max did.

Though this time, she was closer.

With teeth like knives, Max observed quietly as she tore into the throat.

There was no preamble or fight.

She leapt out of her hiding place and sunk her teeth in, staining her white fur red.

Thoroughly impressed, Max jumped down and bumped his head to her shoulder.

She wouldn't make a bad friend.

Certainly wouldn't make a good enemy.

A gentle nip to his rump made Max back away and she let him lead her back to where they'd begun.

This was the meeting spot and it wasn't long before the others made it back.

A silent takeover, they circled the clearing.

Max's numbers had been wrong, it seemed.

Sure, outside of the clearing, he'd had the correct figures but inside, there were more he hadn't spotted.

It irritated him to know he'd been wrong but it was too late now.

Their attack was already in motion and support was on its way but Max could hear them now.

Kyle's voice carried to Max's ears, which flicked forward intently as he crouched with the she-wolf.

"I'm giving you one chance, Gillespie," that dark voice growled.

Max couldn't help the shivers it sent through him.

"Take your wolves and go. There's nothing for you here."

Gillespie laughed but it sounded empty.

"And what if I don't want to go?" he lilted.

"This may be your father's territory but it was my father's first."

"Your father left," Kyle snarled.

Max wished Kyle would stay calm.

Getting angry like this was nothing if not a great way to make a mistake.

Gillespie didn't seem at all impressed.

"He may have left but it was so that we could have more territory, if you remember."

Another growl, echoed by the wolves.

"We didn't need more territory," Kyle's voice was rougher than usual.

"We needed a leader and he left."

A sound in the distance distracted Max from the conversation.

Twigs snapping, yelps, growling, Carter's enforcers?

Max hoped so, growling deep in his chest to let Kyle know they were in place and ready for a fight.

Gillespie didn't miss the sound.

"Getting a kitty cat to fight your battles, Kyle?"

"That kitty cat can crush skulls," Kyle responded, sounding surprisingly calmer.

"So yeah."

Max backed up slowly, not even rustling leaves as he went and stalked around to a position that would allow him to get closer to Gillespie.

The man stood directly in front of Kyle, without a single guard on his hide.

He was prepared to pounce.

Prepared for a single attack to end the conflict that interrupted his time with Kyle and he jumped, missing his target completely as a weight slammed into his ribs.

Max battled to get the attacker off him, kicking the wolf with strong, sharp back claws.

The short, loud roars he let out signalled the others to attack.

Back on his feet, Max felt he once again had an advantage, until a bite to his hind legs had him swivelling around to swipe at yet another attacker.

One wolf was one thing, two was a challenge.

Designed to work in groups, it was more difficult to take on multiple wolves at once than a single wolf.

Max had trouble trying to keep the pair from biting and tearing at his legs as he tried to keep them at a distance.

Though, with a single, strong and well-placed swipe to the wolf's head, Max left himself just one werewolf to deal with and allowed himself to be more aggressive.

It didn't have a chance without a partner to divide Max's attention.

In just a few bounds, Max discovered the she-wolf acting as Kyle's shield, for which he was grateful and he went to join her.

The heat was beginning to get to Max.

Blood coated his paws and jowls.

He wasn't designed to fight for this long.

Fast attacks with maximum power was what his body was made for.

Sustained battles required much more stamina than he actually had and he was tiring quickly.

His movements became sluggish and he soon found himself backing into Kyle.

More enemy wolves just kept coming and Max had no idea where they were coming from.

They'd taken out the ambush hadn't they?

Well clearly they hadn't, there were too many.

Carter's wolves had arrived but that still wasn't quite significant enough to make that much of a difference.

In a brief moment of respite, Max felt Kyle's hand run firmly through his fur.

It was as if he'd just given Max his strength because all of a sudden, Max felt as if he could keep going for an entire week.

If only to be able to feel those fingers in his fur again.

'Keep going. It'll be over soon.'

Max needed no further encouragement and once again leapt into the fray and it would've been a brilliantly bloody battle, if only a distant howl didn't break the clamour of barks and growls and cries of pain.

Only, the enemy was done.

Their werewolves retreated with a speed that left no question to what they were doing.

Feeling Kyle's gaze settled on him, Max stalked over to look him over, make sure Kyle wasn't irreversibly injured.

So far, all he could see were small slashes across the other man's thigh.

Max growled, passing a couple of rough swipes of his rough tongue over the bare skin.

"Yeah," Kyle sighed.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

That was enough for Max.

1 note · View note

twinkietwistz · 9 months

Text

› Yargaza ‹

CHAPTER ONE; PUNISHABLE BY DEATH

· Warnings - gore, execution, gruesome acts

THE clouds rained down over the entire Eveene empire. The stone grounds of the empire were slippery and slick with the storm essence. Yvette stood before the crowd of rowdy peasants surrounding the gallows. A black cloak hung over her shoulders. She posed as the executioner who was no longer. The beast sworn by her side stood right with her. Both a man and a beast came Astrophel. His long claws were digging into the man's shoulders carelessly. The man nearing his brutal death. Cheers and shouts echoed loudly throughout every wall of the empire.

"Forty-five years—" Yvette's loud voice boomed through the center of the empire. An execution held where everyone could witness. As soon as she spoke, the crowd quieted down drastically, "—we have been suffering for the mistakes of emperor Thrakin Yargaza, making his second son ruler of Eveene."

Silence.

No one dared to speak as Yvette preached over the filthy gallows, ridden with aged blood and the smell of death. An axe rested in her palm, loosely swinging by her side. She looked down at the pathetic man who was once emperor of Eveene. Her father. He just looked up at Yvette with a nasty glare. He was constricted by rope, and held in place by her beastly companion.

"His prejudice will be no longer!" She yelled towards the crowd, "And his life will be no more!"

Her powerful voice made the crowd cheer loudly. The common folk shouted obscenities towards their previous emperor. Insults and jeers towards the man rumbled throughout the empire like war.

Yvette turned her attention towards the beast, giving him a nonverbal command. He got it in an instant. The beast man pushed the cruel emperor to his knees with a rough force. The emperor grunted uncomfortably as the tight ropes caused his skin to burn from the friction.

"Desmond Caversh Yargaza, ex-emperor of Eveene, and imperial bastard of Vivianna Aya Caversh." Yvette spat her words like they were bitter on her tongue. She raised the axe to his throat without any reluctance. A disgusted look crossed her cold features as she laid eyes on the pathetic man who shared her blood.

The emperor looked up at his eldest. There was nothing but rage, and hate behind his cruel eyes.

"Your mother failed to bring me a son..." Desmond spoke, "... The least she could've done was bear a worthy daughter." He whispered to her. But those were the last words he could ever utter again.

With one great swing, Yvette lodged the axe straight into his throat. The crowd roared encouragingly, embracing the execution of their emperor happily as they all watched her swing the axe to his throat.

Now, Desmond could only choke and gargle his own blood. His Adam's apple was split in two—along with his neck. His vocal cords most likely snapped in half given the way his throat was straining amongst the gurgles of his blood. Even when she struck him with the axe, the beast held him so he wouldn't fall. He was given orders, and he'd listen to Yvette willingly with his entire body.

Yvette pried the metal from his neck with a grunt. His blood sputtered out from his exposed larynx. The crimson fluid splattering on the gallows and some of it dripping to the stone brick grounds. It was a gnarly, deep cut. Yet he still lived. Gurgling his blood—unable to say not a thing.

That wasn't enough for Yvette. She grabbed her father by the hair, the rough force making his flesh tear at the cut slightly. She forcibly tilted his head back. Yvette made sure it was slow as she made his flesh rip at the neck.

The crowd continued to cheer and jeer at the emperor who was being penaltied with death. The beast man gazed at Yvette as she did the gruesome act. His golden eyes couldn't be torn away from her.

She tore his head right from his body, watching as his body twitched from the aftermath of death. His muscles still moved even after death.

Yvette rose his head in the air as it bled from the wounds she'd inflicted. His blood poured relentlessly on the old wooden platform. He bled like a faucet.

The crowd was both horrified and ecstatic. A cruel sight it was, but a justified action that satisfied the empire greatly.

The beast finally let go of the ex-emperor's body. A simple push that made the headless corpse topple on it's stomach limply.

The beast snatched the golden crown that was reserved for the empress, one that never came to be. It held pearls, golden charms, and a woven symbol of the empire on the center. Astrophel slowly lowered the crown to her head. The crown wrapped around her head, the charm of Eveena hung from the part in her hair to the center of her forehead.

"EMBRACE THY EMPRESS!" The beast roared from the gallows. He repeated the words passed down from imperial to imperial during coronation as Yvette had told him, "OR EMBRACE DEATH AS THINE." His voice could be mistaken as the devil himself. It was deep like a beasts bellow, distorted like the sinful calling of hell.

The coronation of their new empress sent the crowd into joyous hysterics. They didn't give the emperor's head in her hand any regard, or the blood spotted across her face and splattered on her hands.

Yvette dropped the head of her father to the floor like it was nothing. The head hit the floor with a thud and a splat. It rolled off the platform slowly, hitting the stone bricks in front of the crowd as they cheered.

Centuries after centuries, finally, a new empress had risen from the many emperor's ruling Eveene.

Another stare from her secondary companion. A loyal soldier shooting a look at the beast that had one upped him with his position. Astrophel could feel that burning glare, but he didn't dare stray his attention away from his empress.

#fantasy #royal fantasy #old ages #wattpad #Yargaza

0 notes