#HOW is ranchers not on there what the fuck did fucking no one ask for ranchers

[tubbytarchia]

So there's another trafficshipping tournament about to happen (trafficshipshowdown)... I do not care what the results are, this has already been declared yuri year. Gempearl 1st Jizzie 2nd in my heart. BUT I'm so bothered, I have nothing against flower ranchers but their poll has Flower Husbands, Flower Ranchers and NO actual Ranchers? Hello???? Is Flower Ranchers more popular than Solidaritytek..?

#Im just gonna vote for gempearl all the way through I couldnt care less honestly haha #if theyre not even including normal ranchers!!!! what!!! #insane #blabber #even grian/tango is on there and I have literally never heard of that ship before #HOW is ranchers not on there what the fuck did fucking no one ask for ranchers #I mean I didnt either because there just was a trafficship tournament so I didnt exactly look out for a new one

[thecuriousquest]

hi! can i request a nsfw dabi x reader fic where the reader is a captive and dabi finds out she has an oral fixation? thanks!

Oral Fixation

I STUDIED THIS IN ABNORMAL PSYCH!!! I knew it would come in handy one day!

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, kidnapping, oral fixations, smoking habits mentioned, finger sucking, finger fucking (vaginal), clit play, tit groping, oral sex reference at the end, Daddy kink, light degradation, minor mentions of blood

Master List

Request Rules

—————————————————————————

Dabi knew about your sweet tooth and smoking habit well before he nabbed you. He wanted to make sure he knew everything there was to know before bringing you home with him. It was his way of trying to make sure you were comfortable. To accommodate your preferences, he got you a giant bag of Jolly Ranchers and your usual pack of cigs.

When he did bring you back to his shitty little apartment near the League’s base, he noticed you had more habits than candy and smoke breaks.

You tend to chew on the knuckle of your pointer finger whenever you’re in deep thought. Dabi honestly thinks it’s adorable watching you leave little tooth indents with every nibble. He catches you like this more often than not, and he’ll grab your wrist and drag your knuckle away from your mouth, tsking at you slightly when you bite down hard enough to draw blood.

Watching scary movies helps give you something to focus on despite how Dabi holds you closely to his broad chest, keeping you securely in place. He sticks his hand in the popcorn, taking a mouthful. When he tries to offer you some, he sees that you have your fingers stuffed in your mouth as you suck on and bite your nails.

Now that he thinks about it, he rarely sees you without something in your mouth. You’re either smoking, sucking on candy, or chewing on your nails and knuckles.

The cobalt flame thrower traces the back of your hand lightly with the pads of his fingers, encircles your wrist with the softest of touches, and withdraws your hand from your mouth. He caresses your jaw, simply letting himself be familiar with the outline of your chin. Fingers grazing upwards, he feels you flinch from an unexpected jump scare on the screen.

“Shhh,” he soothes you while he drags his thump across the plump skin of your bottom lip.

Your gasp is soft, and your eyes dart up towards his luminescent blues. You can’t help but think how he’s eyeing you like you eye your jar of sweets.

“Dabi?” you try to ask him what he’s doing, but again, he hushes you.

His thumb slips inside your parted lips, finding the cavern wet and warm. Your breath is so hot on his digit that it drives him to explore the toothy cave even further. More fingers follow soon after, his pointer and middle finger to be exact as his thumb drops back to your plush lips.

“Give ‘em a little suck, doll face.”

You seem hesitant, a little unsettled by his order, but you end up giving in. His two fingers fill your mouth as they push down on your tongue. You find yourself relaxing against his chest, lids feeling heavy as your gaze drifts to his scarred wrist.

With his arm still wrapped around your shoulders so that you can comply easier, he shifts you until you’re completely sitting on his lap.

It’s so fascinating how this relaxes you. You’re basically limp against him. He spreads your legs, and you only try to move away from him once before he hits your gag reflex as a warning.

You settle back down, sucking on his fingers and watching the screen contently while Dabi unties the jaw string on your sweat pants. He works them down to your ankles with one hand before doing the same with your lacy panties.

With heated fingers, he works your clit in a circle. You hum softly, soothingly into his fingers as you suckle them like honey.

“This what you like, doll face?” Dabi questions as his pinky finger teases your slit.

The tv, the sucking, the pussy play, it makes your head feel fuzzy. All of the blood and gore taking place in the movie is enough to make you uneasy, but the tension your captor is building in your cunt has you squirming for different reasons.

Drool seeps from the corner of your lips as Dabi pumps his fingers in and almost out of your mouth. Your cheeks hollow and full, hollow and full with every suck you give. Droplets of spit drip from your chin, catching on the pyro’s hand.

“Yeah, Daddy likes this too,” he whispers with such primitive desire into the shell of your ear.

His heavy hand move up under your shirt to paw at your tit. Your breasts pop free as he pulls your shirt up to reveal the beauties, squeezing the supple flesh. He watches the stark whites of his finger prints turn to a pretty red with each harsh grip he leaves behind.

You whine on his thigh, trying to hump into his jeans to relieve the pressure he left behind when he started feeling your tits. Unable to say anything with his fingers stuffed in your mouth, you can only cry and mewl with each wriggle of your hips.

“Aw, does someone miss Daddy playing with her pretty pussy?” He draws you in even closer to him, so close that you hunch in on yourself to accommodate the position. You spread your legs even further for him, placing your feet on the edge of the couch cushions so that you can let your knees fall open like the wings of a butterfly.

You nod your head, leaning your head back on his shoulder. His finger trails back down to your puffy clit. Your wanton slit weeps for his attention, yearns for his ministrations.

Vision blurry with tears, one blink leaves a wet trail down both cheeks.

“Don’t cry, doll face. Daddy’ll give you what you need. Don’t you worry that dumb little head.”

But you can’t help it as even more tears fall when his hand returns to your sensitive cunt because it just feels so damn good. You’re wet for him, just like your mouth. Your breasts bounce with each panting breath, with each moan and sob released from your chest halted at your mouth by Dabi’s fingers.

And he can hear you through the finger gag, he can hear you crying out for daddy.

He can feel you scream against his knuckles as you open your mouth, can feel your body twitch and shake as his fingers become coated with your sticky, milky juices.

You roll your eyes back into your head as you slump against his broad chest. And just before you think you can drift off to sleep, Dabi grabs your chin gently and turns your head towards him.

“Hey, don’t nod off just yet. Daddy has somethin’ else for you to suck on.”

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere themes #triggering content #triggering themes #my hero acedamia #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere dabi x reader #yandere dabi #dabi mha #dabi boku no hero academia #dabi smut #mha dabi #dabi x reader #bnha dabi #dabi my hero academia #dabi

[assumptionprime]

I need to rant about the Fallout show

Because this is the person I am. Full spoilers, so I’m putting it behind a Keep Reading:

I’m a huge sucker for Fallout (yes even 3&4). And I went into the Fallout show with some… trepidation. Amazon has been a mixed bag on adaptations, we could have been blessed with a Good Omens, or cursed by a Rings of Power. But early buzz and reviews seemed positive, so I slammed the whole thing in one night with my spouse (we were staying at my in-laws house and they have Prime. Time was a factor.)

And y’know? I was really enjoying it! The characters were fun, the plot was engaging enough, and the costumes and visual design were extremely on point. There were some minor lore quibbles to be had: Ghouls needing some kind of medicine to not go feral. Really, more Enclave holdouts? Timeline and date whoopsies. Wait are they in California? Where the hell is the NCR?

I made a face at Shady Sands being bombed and the NCR collapsing. But I wasn’t completely out of the story. Based on what I had seen so far, I thought it was building to a reveal that the Brotherhood had done it. That the more zealous turn they took in Fallout 4, which has clearly carried to how they are portrayed in the show, lead them to bombing the NCR. War never changes, as they say. Maximus even says when asked what happened to Shady Sands: “The same thing that always happens.” Yeah, it leans into Bethesda’s weird desire to keep the Fallout world in a state of perpetual wastelands full of raiders and no civilization, but it wasn’t so terrible that I couldn’t still enjoy the show.

But then.

BUT THEN.

Episode 8, and the reveal of Vault-Tec apparently being the ones who dropped the first bomb in the Great War.

I was surprised to hear that some fans have apparently been debating over who fired first? Some even asked Tim Cain about it?

That’s really odd to me because, in the games, there is already a pretty definitive answer to which side sparked the Great War:

Who fucking cares?

The world ended. What does it matter who shot first?

There is no China, no United States, no communists or capitalists left to fight about it. 

It's a powerful little bit of lore.

For all the posturing, all the promises from each nation that their way is the true way, all the nationalism, the militarism, and blind loyalty to flags over humanity, they both lost. Everyone lost. All that remains of the ideologies and nations that were so important to the people of 2077 is faint echoes over vast expanses of radioactive ash.

Who started the end?

No one knows. No one cares.

It only matters that their conflict was so bitter, so all-consuming, that one of them dropped their bombs, and the other dropped theirs in return.

The truest legacy of the old world is the devastation left by their final, most horrific war.

Can we do better?

Then the show says "Nah, Vault-Tec did it. It's not a commentary on human nature and the futility of self-destructive conflict, it was actually these guys, these mustache twirling villains huddled in a darkened room literally plotting to end the whole world so they can rule what's left."

And I can see the attempt to make this a critique of capitalism. I actually paused the show to praise a bit of writing when Coop is talking with Charlie before the war, when Charlie tells him that the “cattle ranchers are in charge” to illustrate how capitalism and corporations hold too much sway over the government, it felt very in line with how in New Vegas one of the recurring critiques of the NCR is that all the real power is in the hands of the “brahmin barons.” Nice parallel, spot on!

But “we’ll set off total thermonuclear war so we can rule the ashes and have a True Monopoly” isn’t capitalism. It’s just dumb “we’re the baddies” writing.

And then Shady Sands was also Vault-Tec?! Forget any meaning in the NCR falling to the same corruption and/or factional fighting that consumed the old world, they were literally just bombed by the evil shadow conspiracy that apparently also killed the old world. Hank gives this speech about factions fighting and the futility of it all while we see the Brotherhood fighting Moldaver’s NCR remnant, and like, no! You can’t say that when you’ve made it so neither the old world or the NCR fell to war with another faction! It was you! You and your band of cryogenic supervillains!

I don't care that they changed it. Timelines and dates and little retcons don’t bother me all that much. I care that they changed it to something so much worse.

#fallout #fallout tv show #fallout spoilers #nerdy rant about shit that doesn't actually matter but has been stewing in my head for a week now

[auteurdelabre]

Please, Mister Miller? (FINAL) BFD!JOel x f!Reader

Words: 6.0k

rating: 18+

warnings: Infidelity, slutty Joel, unprotected P in V, oral (F receiving), dirty talk, (including 'slut') , catching feelings.

a/n: started as a smutty one-shot and y’all wanted more! I hope you like the conclusion for these two. Unsure if I’ll do a one-off for them in the future. If not I think this is a real nice finale for these two desperate horny sluts. 

masterlist here

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

"It was so weird," Sarah tells you later that evening as you both finalize your packing. "Dad said he wanted to go for coffee and then he just comes out with this whole speech about how much he loves me and that he supports my choices and he trusts my decision making." 

She shakes her head incredulously, a beaming smile on her face. She's sitting on the edge of her bed watching you pack. 

"Wow," you say pretending to be shocked as you fold a pair of your jeans. "Did you tell him about Charlie?"

"Yeah. And he was so cool about it! Says if I'm happy then he's happy."

You feel your chest swell with affection for Joel in that moment. Because he could have ignored your suggestions, could have ratted you out. But instead he listened, he digested and he learned.

"See, I told you that your dad would be cool about it."

You look at your clothes tucked away in your suitcase, feeling a mixture of emotions. It's bittersweet to be leaving the Miller home. Not just because of Joel, but because this house is a home. Movie nights, baking, laughing. You can't remember a holiday like this one in recent memory. 

Even with Conrad's family up in Vermont their holidays were more restrained, more about appearances. Here on Rancher Street everyone genuinely likes to spend time with one another. And yes, while it’s been fun fooling around with Joel you’ve enjoyed the laughter and hair braiding sessions in Sarah’s room as she tells you about Charlie or Tess offering to teach you how she makes her special peppermint squares so you can make them at home.

And as you sit beside Joel at dinner that night, marveling at the way Tess has made use of the leftover Christmas turkey you can't help but press your thigh into his with something like affection. He doesn't flinch, doesn't move away. He just continues eating and talking with Sarah and Tess seated across from you about returning to school. 

"I'm not really excited to go back," she confesses. "Gonna miss everyone around here."

"You'll still have me," you joke, knowing very well that she's talking about Charlie. 

"Very true," Sarah smiles. Tess launches into how much she misses Sarah around the house. Your attention drifts to the man beside you, the man who smells so fucking good. 

The man who you are terrified you have real feelings for. 

No. It can’t be real feelings. For fucks sake he’s just sexy and you want him. That’s all that this is. If you like him them you’re a piece of shit. He’s married. It was bad enough that you fucked him over and over. Falling for him would make you pathetic.

Very subtly under the protection of the ornate tablecloth Tess insisted on, you let your hand stray to Joel's lap. At first it's a gentle rub of your thumb along his thigh, then a pinky edging the area near his groin. You feel him begin to swell under your digit and you squirm in your seat delightedly.  

At this point Joel shifts, trying to shoot you a warning look but you're ignoring him, pretending to be fascinated by what Tess has to say about the meal preparation.

"And how do you get the turkey so moist?" You ask, pretending to listen as she goes into detail about her meal while you're stroking her husband's cock through his pants. 

You know why you’re doing it; it's a feeling of being territorial over Joel which is useless because he isn't yours. Joel Miller is married. He's your best friend’s dad. He's in love with his wife and nothing can change that. 

You feel Joel's hand on your wrist, and you think he means to move your hand off of him. You almost hum when you feel him curving your hand to grip him around the head, tugging slowly a moment before pulling you off completely. The silent "later" implied in his actions. 

///

"Let's watch a movie after dinner," Tess suggests on as the dinner plates are cleared by Joel. "All of us together."

"Sounds good," you say as Sarah agrees before looking at you. You nod in agreement as Tess goes to make the popcorn and Sarah says she has to call Charlie quick. 

“Behave during this one,” Joel murmurs from behind you. You feel Joel's hand brush against your ass as you pass in front of him in the hallway, squeezing and you hold in a smile.

When everyone returns to the living room Tess flicks through the guide and you all decide on a cheesy hallmark movie to watch together. You sit next to Tess and Joel on the sofa, popcorn bowl on your lap and you watch the film and for once your thoughts aren't depraved. 

You all tease Sarah for sitting too close to the TV as per usual. You laugh at the ridiculous and predictable plot. The only time Joel touches you is when he passes you a soda you requested and his forefinger drifts over yours. 

"We're going to miss having you around," Tess says during one of the commercials. "We've loved having you both here."

Joel nods, his eyes on the television. You don’t let yourself look at him for too long. Instead you focus on Tess’ smiling face next to you. You give her a smile, feeling your cheeks pinking.

"Thanks. I really like it here."

Sarah flashes you a grin from her seat by the TV. You feel a strange feeling forming as you look from her to Tess. You didn't want to like the woman beside you, but you do. She's nice. She's a bit bland, but that's not a crime. You stomach twists as you think of all the kindness she’s shown you.

Guilt. It's finally arrived right on time. 

The movie ends and Sarah announces she's going to bed. Tess does the same giving a stretch. Joel murmurs something about working on some work emails, pulling out his phone and tapping away. 

You stand, going to follow Sarah but Joel grabs your wrist as you walk by, stopping you from sailing by him. You glance down to see him looking up at you, brow raised in question.  

"We shouldn't," you whisper before extricating yourself from his warm grip. You don't look back as you head to the guest room. 

///

Hours later you find yourself unable to sleep. The ache between your legs is almost as bad as the crack starting in your heart. 

Joel. Joel. Joel. 

It started as a casual fuck, a simple need to feel him everywhere. The connection was palpable from the start and when he'd finally given in? Eating you out on the table, fucking you in the guest room, the truck, it had been magic. 

But it's not just the sex is it? 

No, it's not. Thinking of a real life with Joel Miller makes your body break out in delicious shivers, prickling with desire. Imagining how it would be to fuck him without fear of being caught, to wear his ring, to cook for him, to have his arm around your waist as you go to the movies. 

Fuck. You're so fucking stupid. 

A glance at your phone tells you it's almost three am. You push yourself out of the bed, starting to pace around the small guest room before deciding that you need some fresh air. 

The house is quiet and dark when you creep out into the hallway. You decide the garage will be a good spot to cool down without alerting the entire household and you slip into it.

"What're you doin' in here?"

You nearly jump back at the soft voice. You glance over to see a small light from the corner, hooked to a woodworking table. Joel is seated before the table, a scattering of wood and tools sat on it. He's looking at you with surprise. 

"I'm sorry," you stammer. "I didn't think anyone would be in here."

"S' alright," Joel says, tilting his head inviting you to stay. You close the door behind you before shuffling over to where he sits at his workbench. 

"What are you doing?"

"Wood carving," he tells you. "Relaxes me."

You remember when you’d noticed it earlier, the collection of tools and small figures scattered across the top. Your eyes don’t rest there long, they quickly move to Joel’s handsome face.

"Why are you carving at three in the morning?"

"Probably the same reason you're up wanderin' the house." 

His dark eyes capture yours and you feel your body responding in kind. Your nipples tighten under your nightdress. Joel's gaze dips to them before he's forcing his attention back to the table. 

You watch him sweep away the wood shavings, tidying up the area. It feels calm to watch him do this chore and not for the first time you muse that you would love a life watching Joel do domestic tasks. 

"S' funny, after the first time I thought you were a fucking demon sent to ruin my life," Joel says quietly with a smirk, twisting the carving tool between his fingertips before placing it in the drawer. "Now I realize s'the opposite. You got me and Tess back on track, you got me and Sarah really talkin' and you made me feel..."

He trails off, looking shy until you gently nudge him with your shoulder, brows raised. 

"Feel what?" 

"You made me feel sexy again," he says unable to look at you as he does. The corner of your mouth hooks up into a grin. 

"You really didn't think you were sexy, Joel?"

"I mean, I know I'm not awful to look at," Joel says chuckling embarrassedly. "Just... Ya know. You get older; feel like your best days are behind you..."

"Not the case for you, I promise."

Now Joel allows himself to look at you, his throat bobbing. A look comes into his eyes that softens around the edges. 

"You are a special girl, you know."

"Yeah yeah," you say rolling your eyes and flushing with embarrassment. You're not familiar with praise like this; earnest and gentle and not whispered huskily as he comes inside you.

You go to head back to the guest room but Joel's hand reaches out and holds you by the hip. You prepare yourself for him to push you to your knees but instead he urges you lean back against the workbench, your body tilted back between his legs. 

You breathe heavily, feeling his endless eyes studying your face. His head moves forward and you feel his soft mouth kiss the side of your neck. You whisper a sigh at the delicate sensation. Joel's hands slide under your nightdress, coming to curl around the hem of your panties. 

You think of Tess and how kind she's been to you and a new surge of guilt overwhelms you. You pull back, immediately hating the feeling of being out of his orbit but knowing you shouldn’t keep going. 

"Joel maybe we shouldn't-"

"Don't start pretending you don't want it now," Joel murmurs up at you. "S'too late for that and we both know it. Get these off for me."

You know he's right. You allow him to pull your panties down over your legs before stepping out of them. Joel shoves them into the pocket of his sweatpants. Your face heats up as Joel's pushes your nightdress up until he sees the shine of your sex already glossy on your inner thighs. 

"Show me the rest." 

You bring up your nightdress, bunching it under your chin, showing him your tits and smiling when he groans softly. 

His head dips forward again, mouth coming to press a delicate kiss against your sternum. You feel your breath leave you when his hands slide up and come to cup your breasts before squeezing and kneading. 

"Beautiful girl."

You let out a soft whine until Joel's eyes narrow on yours. He brings his mouth to your cheek. 

"Gotta be quiet," Joel whispers huskily against your ear. "Everyone's asleep. Can you be quiet for me?" 

You nod emphatically, urging his mouth to your breast, hand at the base of his skull, tangled in his hair. He smirks up at you before his mouth moves to your nipple, eyes closing as his teeth begin to worry the straining nub. You swallow your moan at the electric shocks that zap through you. He licks and sucks, working you up before pulling back. 

"Can't wait any more," Joel whispers. 

Then Joel is on his knees, kissing down your abdomen, your hips as you quiver under his touch. His hands hold you in place as he presses lust fueled kisses down your body, invisible marks that claim you. Then he settles there, kissing just below your navel. 

"Wanna thank you for all you did for me," Joel rumbles. You hold in a whimper, allowing Joel to take your right leg and shift it over his shoulder, opening you to him. You watch as he slowly licks a stripe up the center of your cunt, eyes on you the entire time.

Fuck.

Your hands grip the edge of the table, eyes shuttering. Joel smirks, pleased with your reaction. His hands go over your ass, skimming there and tilting you so that his lips can graze against your labia more easily. 

"So pretty," he croons, licking gently, his eyes falling shut as he savors the moment. "’N so fucking sweet." 

He kisses your inner thigh so slowly and reverently it makes tears come to your eyes but you blink them back when he gazes back up at you. 

"You're gonna be a good girl for me aren't you?"

His full lips curl into a smile when you whimper a soft yes and then his mouth descends over your cunt, tongue piercing you. You groan in quiet harmony with his hands tightening around your hips. He flicks his tongue against your clit, growling softly when you whimper at the sensation. 

"Shhhh," he hushes. 

You cover your mouth with your hand, hips undulating against Joel's greedy mouth. He feels so good, so hungry, so desperate for you. It makes your body tingle all over as his mouth works over your clit, sucking gently as you buck against him. 

His fingertips dimple your ass, pulling your cunt now firmly against his mouth. He presses his lips there giving sloppy open mouthed kisses as your spine curls. His nose nudges your clit, rubbing as his tongue laps and flicks.

He works at you longer and your fingers twist in his curls. You force yourself to memorize everything about the moment. The way his eyes are shut lightly as he moans into your cunt, the way his hair is so soft under your fingers, his body so warm against you. 

You soon edge your orgasm, feeling that fire being stoked higher and bigger. It makes your thighs tremble against Joel's ears and he smiles against your pussy. 

"Joel," you whisper in a broken whisper. "I'm getting close."

"S'not my name," Joel says muffled from between your thighs. 

"Gonna come, M-mister Miller."

"Mhmm," he offers between your legs as his eyes dart back to your face, his mouth still on your pussy. "Show Daddy how his good girl comes for him."

Your body tightens and Joel hums softly in approval as you come for him, your heart thundering. You feel your copious arousal being lapped up by the man between your legs who sighs as if this is all he's ever wanted in life.

You swallow the loud cry that has been building within your lungs and cover your mouth tightly. So tightly that when you remove them moments later their imprint remains like a ghostly kiss. 

"Beautiful," Joel whispers, pressing his mouth to your cheek as he stands. "You did so fucking good for me."

The sound of his praise lifts you everywhere. You feel lighter, you feel joyful. You want so much to please him, to feel more of him, to make him feel as good as you feel. 

"You next," you whisper huskily, kissing his earlobe.

"Don't need to," Joel says, shivering as your tongue comes to trace the flesh of his lobe. You hear him trying to muffle a groan deep in his throat. "Just wanted to make you feel good."

Your hand slides down the front of his sweatpants, hand gripping his already hard length and smiling as he curls into you. You start to stroke him through the fabric, your free hand on the back of his neck, twisting in his curls.

"We have to do something about this," you tease softly. 

"You make me so goddam hard," he breathes against your temple as if this is shocking, as if no woman has ever made him this hard before.  

"Good," you whisper against his ear, making sure to drag the last syllable before flicking your tongue over his earlobe. "Need you hard so I can ride you."

"Christ," Joel groans gently, his hips jutting forward into your palm. You drag your teeth down his neck, feeling his pulse under your mouth. He tugs himself free from his sweatpants and you can see the lust in his dark eyes.  

Joel watches you move, lifting your nightdress over your head until you're there between he and the workbench totally naked. 

"Gorgeous," he murmurs, eyes roving over your body. 

His hands slide up to cup your breasts again and he lets his thumbs graze along your nipples, gratified by your little shiver at the sensation. He watches them pebble for him, his tongue coming to drag against his lower lip. Your hand circles the head of his weeping cock, tugging as you flash him your most innocent smile.   

“Please fuck me, Mister Miller.”

Joel lets out a long shudder sigh, brows saddling. You lean forward to nip along his jaw, your eyelashes low and slowly blinking.

"Fuck me hard," you tell him, tilting him to sit on his stool. You're pushing his sweatpants down over his thighs and straddling him. "Give me something to remember."

"I can do that."

You hold in a squeak as he grips you around the waist and tugs your sopping cunt along his shaft. He slides between your legs slowly, extending the sensation of entering you. It's the last time and he wants to make it count. 

He groans when you finally slide the rest of the way down his length, gasping quietly as he fills you. You sit on his lap like this, ankles crossing behind him. 

You both don't move. You just sit there, Joel's cock buried within you throbbing. Your eyes search his face as his hands come to hold you by the lower back. 

You finally shift slowly, rolling your hips slightly. Joel's eyelids flutter as you angle pelvis, milking him as you rock against him. His hands splay over your lower back, guiding your movements, his eyes where you two join. 

"Feels so good," Joel murmurs, his eyes barely open. 

Your arms wrap around his neck and you know he won't kiss you, so you rest your temple against his. It allows you to hear his shuddering breath in your ear and feel the fabric of his t-shirt against your naked chest. 

"You make me feel so full," you whisper, hips rocking against his. 

"Good," Joel breathes. 

“Wanna stay like this forever," you mutter, eyes falling shut. His arms circle you, holding you a bit tighter against him. You shift once more, feeling his cock throb inside you. 

Your lips graze his neck, dragging over the stubble of his jaw. He doesn't move, just keeps still when your mouth brushes his. 

"I'm gonna miss this" you whisper. "Gonna miss this thick cock fucking me."

Joel groans into you cleavage, his hips starting to press up, and his cock nudging inside your walls. 

"Don't know how I'm gonna survive without this pussy," Joel rumbles, his hands guiding your hips to continue rocking over him slowly. 

"We could keep in contact," you offer, pulling back to search his face. "Texting?"

"Don't know that it's a good idea," Joel supplies after a beat. 

"Maybe not," you agree, pelvis tilting. "Too bad. I'm really gonna miss you."

Then something changes. Maybe it's the realization that this is too intimate, to slow and sensual. Maybe you’ve shown your emotionally caught up hand. Whatever the reason Joel suddenly laces his hands under your ass and carries you over to the far wall of the garage. He presses your spine against the cool brick, his breathing ragged. He thrusts into you, your legs still crossed at the ankle behind him. You hold onto him, unable to tear your eyes from his handsome face. 

"You'd really wanna text me?" He murmurs.

"Yes," you nod. 

"Send me slutty little photos while I'm here with my wife?" Joel pants. "Make me have to go to the bathroom and jerk off? Be my dirty little secret?"

"Fuck yes," you say excitedly. The thought is turning you on so much and you can’t find it in yourself to hate it. "Yes I want that."

You hold onto his shoulders for purchase and begin to rut against his hips. He pins you to the wall as he begins to pound into you, his teeth clenched and his eyes on your mouth. You bite you lower lip to stop from crying out. 

"Maybe I'll call you one night," Joel whispers against your ear, his full bottom lip grazing the lobe. "Tell you how to touch yourself. Hear those pretty little sounds you make."

Your head tilts back now at the very thought of it. Joel continues to rut into you against the wall, his thrusts going harder. But his hands grip yours, pinning them to the wall under his wide palms. 

"Lemme see those tits bounce," he grinds out, eyes fixed on your jolting chest when he fucks up into you. "Uh huh, just like that."

A thought suddenly causes you to pale. 

"The doors unlocked," you tell him as you remember. The Joel of you first time together would panic and would shuffle over and close it. This Joel just fucks you harder with a strange little smirk on his face that you've never seen before. 

"Then I guess I'm gonna have to make sure you're quiet."

His wide hand goes over your mouth, sealing your cries of pleasure and it shouldn't turn you on so much but it does. The thrusting increases in tempo and the slap of your skin against one another is the only sound heard in the quiet garage. 

"Thought about fucking you in here so many times," Joel admits. "Wanted to fuck you everywhere. Fuck this pussy raw."

He's grunting quietly as if he's trying so hard to keep himself from growling. His eyes are on yours, his pupils blown out.

"Use me," you tell him behind his palm, hips tilted and cunt glossy. 

He does. His hips slam into yours so harshly it takes your breath away. 

He pulls back to watch his cock sliding into your sopping cunt. He makes a wounded sound, his eyes blinking rapidly as if he can’t believe its happening. He’s completely overtaken by lust, his teeth clenching as he fucks into you brutally, his taut belly slamming into yours.

"You feel so fucking good," he groans against your ear as he bottoms out again.

He doesn't even care about your clit or your pleasure right now. He's chasing his own high, desperate for release and that makes your arousal flood over his cock. He notices and gives a soft nibble to your neck. 

"You like me filling this pussy up? Using you like a little fuck doll?"

You nod behind his hand, your eyes cheating to the back of your head at the vulgarity. He keeps hitting within you deep, making your body twitch in delight. 

"Take it all," he pants against your jaw. "Take all my fucking cock like a good little slut."

You whimper in agreement, wrists pinned to the wall by his hands when all you want to do is run your nails down his back, marking him as yours. You want this to happen over and over again. You want him to use you, to fuck you, to make love to you. You want to suck his cock and lick the come he offers you. You want him to fuck your ass because no one has before and you want to give it to him. You want him to have everything you can give him and you want it over and over.

His finger starts to rub over your clit, his breath huffing over your cheeks as he watches you. You were already so close just at the friction of his cock between your legs. But now, your eyes flutter open to fix on his.

“I need it,” he tells you.

“I know.”

You swallow your second release, your spine arching against the cool brick as you come for him. He watches all of this with saddled brows and the faintest whimper escaping him. You moan gently, eyes opening to see him still watching you.

He releases your remaining wrists so both his broad hands can go around your waist, holding you in place as his hips begin to roll. His cock circles within you, stirring your ardor for him. He's so gorgeous, so blissfully fucked out, rambling about how you feel so perfect around him. His mouth is parted as he groans gently, eyes starting to roll back as his head moves to your shoulder.

"Tell me you'll come see me at college."

You say it impulsively but there's an edge of desperation in your voice. But Joel isn't thinking, he's cunt-struck and his hips don't slow. 

"I will," Joel groans into your neck. "Fuck, I will."

"Tell me you'll fuck me in my bed there," you say as he thrusts into you against the wall so hard you see stars. 

"Yes," Joel whispers, head dropping against your neck as his hips slap against yours. "I'll fuck you there, baby. Fuck you anywhere you want."

Baby. Baby. Baby.

He's yours in some way. In some small incremental way he's yours. You don't know if he means it, but you think he might. 

"Come deep," you groan softly in his ear. "Please, Joel. W-wanna feel you tomorrow."

"Yes," he pants out. "Gonna get my come good girl. S'all for you."

He begins thrusting brutally into you against the wall of his garage, hips slamming into yours, hands gripping your ass so tightly it aches. You feel him release with you, warm and thick. You watch his face, seeing the pinched look to his features before he relaxes and his head tilts forward. 

Your damp foreheads press together as you both catch your breath, your breathing starting to slowly match in rhythm. Despite the circumstances it feels almost intimate.

He lowers your feet to the floor, arms still loosely around your waist. You stand shakily, your palms against his chest as you find your balance. You watch as he tucks himself back into his sweatpants and leans down to grab your nightdress from where it's fallen onto the floor. He tugs it on over your head, smoothing it over your body, his hands lingering. 

Your eyes flutter up to meet his open gaze and without thinking you press your mouth to his. His lips are warm and soft. Joel pauses at the contact, about to pull away but then you feel him relent, mouth opening and his tongue seeking yours briefly. His hands begin tightening around the pinch of your waist but then he must remember himself because then he pulls back, planting a slow kiss to the corner of your mouth before straightening. 

"G'night."

"G'night."

He nods, watching you leave the garage, heading back to the guest room. 

///

He's nowhere to be seen the next morning. Sarah notices it first as she passes you a bowl of cereal. When her stepmom walks into the kitchen Sarah notices that she looks frazzled and is muttering to herself.

"Where's dad, Tess?"

"I think your dad has a cold," Tess says with a frown, patting at her pockets. "He's in bed. Says he doesn't wanna get you both sick right before you get back to school. Don’t worry I’ll be driving you two to the airport. Don’t want you missing your flight."

Your stomach drops. You won't even be able to say goodbye to him. No quiet thank you, no last image of his dark eyes on yours. Just driving in silence to the airport as you mourn a relationship that never was.

The three of you eat a quick breakfast before you load up your luggage into the car. You go back inside for your remaining belongings and any last minute things left behind.  Sarah asks you to take her hat to the car with you.

“I’ll be right there, just gonna say goodbye to my dad.”

You linger in the kitchen listening to the sound of his rumbling voice through the door and you think about waiting outside the room to say your goodbye as well. But it would look weird going into his bedroom to say goodbye. As far as everyone knows you barely know Joel.

Last night was your farewell to Joel Miller. 

"Before I forget," Tess says to Sarah as you both load into the car. She reaches into her coat pocket. "Your dad made you this. Says he didn't want you to forget him while you were away at school."

Sarah opens her box and gives a little giggle. "Awww dad." She pulls out a small carved soccer ball. Sarah is at school on a sports scholarship so it's only appropriate. 

“That’s so sweet,” Tess says with an indulgent smile. You nod, forcing a smile onto your face as well before looking out the window to the house. A part of you had been desperately hoping that his window blinds would be open, but no such luck.

You swallow your disappointment at having no tangible totem from Joel.  No artifact to take back with you. No physical reminder of what you two shared and so you sit in the car with your eyes downcast into your palms. 

"And this one's for you." 

Your head jerks up as Tess says your name, smiling warmly and handing you back a small box. "Joel said it was so you could remember your time with us."

"Thank you." 

Your heart hammers and you hurriedly open it, unable to stop your hands from shaking. Tess and Sarah are busy chatting in the front seat, giving you a moment of privacy and you’re impossibly thankful for it. 

When you peer into the small box you feel your chest grow warm. Inside is a beautiful and delicate looking carved piece of wood. You recognize it as what Joel was working on last night. You gingerly take it from the box, holding it to the light. 

A snowflake. 

You look at the little carved snowflake. The same design as the one from your skirt when you baked together. The day Joel gave in and initiated. Your eyes pick up on a small piece of paper folded at the bottom of the box with Joel's messy scrawl. You open it covertly in case it's something inappropriate. 

A snowflake never falls in the wrong place. 

And his phone number at the bottom, written in small script. You feel your waterline spill over as you read the words once, twice. 

Tess puts the key in the ignition and a sudden clutch is at your heart. You swallow the lump in your throat. 

"Shit, I forgot my wallet inside," you say. "Gimme two minutes."

"No rush," Sarah says with a yawn. "Tess always makes us leave too early for the airport anyway."

You scramble out of the car, your footsteps a desperate drum on the pavement as you rush back inside the Miller home. You throw the front door closed before scrambling down the hallway to his room. 

"Joel!"

You whirl the door to his bedroom open and see him sitting on his bed much like the first time you two were alone. Only now he's curled in a seated position with his forearms on his knees and when he looks up at you in surprise his dark eyes are wet. 

"What're you doin' here?"

He moves off the bed as you hold up the small carving he made for you. He softly smiles. 

"You're one of a kind, Snowflake."

You let out a sob before you throw yourself into his waiting arms. Joel holds you tightly, chin on the top of your head, whispering soothing words. 

"I can't leave you," you tell him through hiccupping sobs, tears staining his shirt. "I-I'm in love with you, Joel."

Joel makes a soft sighing noise and it doesn't sound like irritation or malice. It sounds like pain. 

"I know it probably feels like that," Joel says, hands cupping your face so that you'll look at him. "But this ain't love, sweetheart."

"It is!" You insist. "I've never felt the way I do about you. I love you and you love me, don't you?"

"Honey," Joel says and it's in a voice so strained you have to look up at him. He's staring down at you, his dark eyes glassy. 

"This is just connection," he explains tenderly. "And you'll have others, I promise. So much stronger than this." 

And you know he's right. You've known it all along but nursed this fantasy of a life with him. A future. Connection. That feels right when he says it. It feels right to explain what's gone on here. But there's a part of you that can't let him go. Not just yet. 

"Will you come see me at college?"

Joel is thoughtful, brushing the hair from your wet eyes. 

"Not sure. Gotta think on that one."

You nod, sniffling. You want to say so much more but you hear Tess beep the car horn. 

"I better go," you say pocketing the small carving and giving him a sad look. "Thank you for everything."

You step back, your eyes full of longing as you stare at him. Joel brings a finger to your chin, tilting your face more fully up. His dark eyes scan yours for what seems like ages before dipping to your mouth. You swallow a surprised gasp when he finally, blessedly presses his lips to yours. 

It’s nothing like last night which was quick and needy. This is slow and unhurried, his hands going to your jaw and tilting so he can lick lightly into your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck and whimper for him and he kisses you soft and gentle. Tess beeps the car horn once more and you two reluctantly break apart.

"You're welcome here any time," he tells you, stroking your tearstained cheek with his knuckle. "I mean that. And if you ever need anything you just call me. You have my number now." 

His sincerity is so palpable you can't help but kiss the corner of his full mouth gently. His mouth chases yours, sweeping another full lipped kiss to yours. 

Your hand goes to his chest over his heart, needing one last touch as if proving to yourself that he was real. 

"Thanks, Mister Miller."

He smiles. "Call me Joel."

#joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #dad joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal #smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us fanfic #cheating!Joel

[jarofstyles]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy- Patreon

Hello! We’ve been getting asks about what our series are about, and we wanted to show you guys a little piece of what we have on there 🫶 this is a series about rancher and cowboy h, and Y/N is very happy to be getting a job out on the infamous ranch with her passion for the horses and the beauty of the land.

WC- 1.6k

Here is our sneak peek! You can join us on Patreon for multiple exclusive series (100+ pieces) and early access to our writing.

——-

The place was fucking gorgeous… but that didn’t seem to compare to the cowboy showing her around. Jesus Christ, the man was something of a movie star quality man.

He was polite and charming. Holding his hand out to take hers when they’d have to move over a bit of rougher terrain, his calloused fingers gently caressing hers with a sly smile. The hat on his head shaded his eyes so he could look properly, giving her eye contact the entire time. Chillingly hot eye contact that had her feeling a bit weak in the knees. Soft green, greener than the grass in the fields that sprawled the ranch.

“I think you’d like workin’ here. It’s a family for sure.” He hummed, moving his hat off to brush his longer locks out of his face and adjusting the hat back on. He was bronzed and golden skinned from working outside, a light dusting of freckles just barely visible from her distance. Carved cheekbones and sharp jawline but dimples deeper than the valley, he was a god like being standing in front of her with a sweet disposition he probably hid a bit from others.

“I think so, yes. It’s my dream. You know? It’s a bit cheesy to some at the school… everyone’s always dreaming to run off to the city. But I love the place. The animals. The air.” She murmured, looking around the ranch. Y/N was hyper aware of the warm form of the man next to her, and the fact he was looking at her. Never had she experienced such an attentive man in terms of talking to her. No checking of his phone, no looking away.

She also was unaware of how Harry was genuinely a bit in awe of her. The starry eyed cowboy drinking in her essence and watching carefully as she spoke. Observing the details he hadn’t managed before. Beating himself up over not having known her before. Because, how? A girl in their area who wanted to stay? Who genuinely loved his land? That was a rarity. It wasn’t going to take much to have him be taken with her.

“I think that’s Amazin’.” He smiled, placing his hand on the small of her back and leading her towards the barn where their personal horses were kept. “You’re like me then. Content with home. Everyone says… they want wild adventures. Don’t even bother lookin’ in their own backyard. And that’s a damn shame, cause there’s plenty.” He spoke as they walked. Her eyes trailed his petal pink lips, the slight stubble left on the skin on his face, the radiance in his entire being. Harry was truly one of a kind. Even with dirt smudged on his jeans, clunky cowboy boots and the occasional scratch on his hand he managed to be graceful and smooth.

“Exactly.” She chirped, excited that he got it. “To me… there’s nothing like the festivals downtown. Learning to make new things. Finding a new watering hole or mapping out the land. I love the bonfires and cookouts. I don’t know. I find there’s a beauty in simplicity.” She turned to look at him, eyes squinted for a moment before they adjusted to the sun. It was beautiful outside despite the heat. The blue skies elevated her mood, but she did think that it was mostly attributed to the man guiding her around.

Harry felt his heart swell and a round of hopeful caterpillar‘s making their cocoons inside of his stomach. So many times he’s been hoping to find someone of a similar mindset. Someone he could get close to and not worry about them wanting to run off later down the line. It just felt… nice. Comforting. Knowing someone else felt the same as he did.

“You get me, Sweets.” He lightly flexed his hand on her back as his smile widened. Harry was a skeptic romantic. Meaning he held his cards close before he let them show. He’s flirt and tease but playfully. It wasn’t real unless he felt secure. Something he felt more and more of each time this pretty girl opened her mouth. A dangerous combination for him.

His approval made her giddy, having to stop herself from skipping as he opened the barn door up with a creaky slide. “We’re getting new doors on the barn so it doesn’t cause such a ruckus. But this barn is for our personal horses. I’ve got a few, but my soul partner is right over here.” He led her over to a large black stallion. A white star shaped mark right between his eyes. “His name is Perseus. Or Percy, for short.” He grinned widely at the giggle that left her mouth, his hand stroking over his nose with gentle affection.

“Percy, hm?” She looked at Harry for approval before stroking the side of the horse’s strong neck. “What a beautiful big boy.” A gentle coo had the hose sighing. A sign of relaxation, making her beam. “Yes, you are a strong, Handsome one. I can tell.” Her hands worked over the front of the horse with a cooed affection that had Harry- in simpler terms- about to act up.

He was far closer to his horses than people realized. He loved his animals and had a special connection to them, but especially Percy. His best friend. He’d gotten him for his 21st, and ever since they’d been attached at the hip. “Oh, he likes you.” His deep voice rumbled through her stomach and almost made her jump. “He doesn’t usually take to stranger so fast. Got ‘im begging for attention. He will eat it up when he like ‘ya.”

So would Harry. He felt a little pathetic being jealous for wanting the girl to be stroking at his face like that. She had smooth hands.

“Does he get that from his Daddy?”

The giggled tease had Harry caught of guard but sent him into a laugh, head thrown back at the gall. This woman was something else… and it was calling right to him. A bit of banter was sexy. Especially teasing.

“Maybe so. But it takes a special woman to get men like us to behave like mere pups.” He hummed, leaning his hip against the stall door.

“Mhm. I bet that’s true.” She looked at him from under her lashes with a coy smile before returning her attention to the stallion.

I’ll be damned. He thought. This was the fastest a woman had managed to tangle Harry up in a lasso, but it seemed like he was pulling it tighter than she had even meant to.

“How many personal horses are then?” Her question snapped him out of his fantasy in his mind. Not an appropriate one to be having about a staff member but Harry knew that in his gut, she would be far more than that.

“I have 3. Percy, here.” He nudged his chin towards him. “Then we’ve got Athena. And Cash.” He pointed towards a paint mare and a chestnut… what seemed to be thoroughbred stallion. “Those are mine. Over there are my fathers two, and my mothers one though she doesn’t ride often. Hers is used more for riding lessons and all that. Sister got some too. So… 8. We got room for two more personal. Staff and ranch hands, if they got ‘Em, keep them in the commercial barns. There’s a lot of ‘em here.” Though she knew that. “I’m assuming you’ll like to spend time with all of them.”

“Well… Percy is a favorite so far.” She grinned towards the horse. “But you’d be right. I adore all animals but horses.. they’re a soft spot for me. I want to have a few of my own one day.” She said it shyly. It was stupid to be shy and Y/N knew that. Harry got it more than anymore but there was still that residual shame she felt from peers when she said she was happy where she was and wanted to keep going. She didn’t have the same wanderlust as everyone else.

“Hey.” He took a risk, gently lifting her chin up with his thumb. “Nothin’ wrong with that. Don’t know why you’re embarrassed when m’the one who just gushed over lovin’ my horses.” He teased lightly, keeping those pretty eyes of hers locked with his. “I’m glad… I’ve met someone who’s like me. Everyone in a rush to leave and fail to see how much fun and how beautiful life can be when you enjoy what you’ve got. The horses, the nature, everything. Everyone at school has those big city dreams. That’s fine n’dandy for them, but you n’me? We get it. We like how we were raised and we are comfortable being here. Don’t let ‘em haunt you. You can be open here. In fact… I’d love to see more of you like that. It’s not every day you come across a pretty little thing with a good head on her shoulders. My momma will eat you up and be happy you’re around. Some sense, she’ll say.” He gently stroked her chin before letting his hand drop. It was pathetic for her to miss the rough pad of the finger on her smooth skin, but she did.

“Yeah?” She asked shyly, looking up at him while shifting back and forth from heel to toe. A childlike comfort that Harry found to be fucking adorable.

“Yeah, Darlin’. Don’t worry about any of ‘em here. You’ve got me… and a whole load of other folks who have pride in loving where they’re from. “ he paused, taking in the sparkly flint in her eyes though she was a bit shy. It made him feel all the more eager to protect her, to make her see she was one of them. “I think you’ll fit in here just fine.”

#sneak peek #cowboy!harry #harry styles cowboy #COWBOYRRY #save a horse ride a cowboy #jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry smut #harry angst #harry fluff #harry styles au #harry fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fic

[wifeofnatasharomanoff]

Chicks & Candy

SERIES MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: pregnant!reader, a slight misunderstanding, fluffy fluff, flirty wives ofc, not smut but a little soft/steamy make-out sesh

WORDS: 1,104

PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x f!Reader

A/N: felt #emo while writing this oopsies !!😹😹😹

Sure, you had your reasons to be mad at her. You were pregnant and it was probably the hormones, but she still majorly fucked up with her innocent wording. On top of it, the summer heat always put you on a tightrope just waiting for you to fall, her accidental words just pushed you off of it.

She had come back home from a meeting at the Avengers tower and saw you waddling her way with Alex strolling behind you. “Hi darling!” you draped your arms on her shoulders, “hey you cute little chicken.” she smiled. Oh, how naive. She didn't mean for you to take it the wrong way. You furrowed your brows in confusion, “chicken?” oh God. She heard the change in your tone as you questioned her. “No– it's just that y'know you're like.. a mother chicken and– Alex, he just followed you like a little baby chicken. I–” you glare at her and move your arms off her shoulders, crossing them over your chest. “So, you're saying I look like a bird? A stubby bird with feathers that can't fly properly.” she was done for.

So here she is, contemplating her life decisions as she sat in the car parked in front of the house. “Mama why no home?” the toddler asked Natasha. “It's because.. mommy is upset at mama, buddy.” she huffed as she looked down at the candy in the shopping bag. Blue, green, red, and purple colors of fruit flavored hard candy. You mentioned craving jolly ranchers right before she left for the meeting, and here she is, hoping you forgive her little mistake over candy.

After a few minutes, she decided that you might have calmed down and she left the car with Alex. “Mommy I' home!” that dumb little– Nat, that's your son. Shut up. He padded through the hallway and snuck into your bedroom, “hi sweetie! Mommy missed you, c'mere.” he gave you a gummy grin and crawled into your arms. “Ugh, I hope this one is gonna be as chubby and cute as you.” you mumbled against his cheek as you squeezed him tightly. “I‐ can't breathe–” you let go of him and pinched his chubby little cheek. “Mommy! I' not a baby anymore. I' a big boy!” his complaints and huffs turn into giggles as you tickled him. “Babe?” you peered up at your wife at the doorway. Completely ignoring her presence out of pettiness, you continued tickling the toddler.

“Baby?” you chewed on your inner cheek as you attempted to ignore her once more. “Detka?” you couldn't hold in the laugh that escaped your mouth at her desperation for forgiveness. “What is it, Natty?” you finally met her eyes, “I'm.. sorry. For calling you a chicken.” she handed you a green apple flavored jolly rancher. “It's.. it's okay, darling.” you stifled a laugh as you popped the sweet candy into your mouth. “Alex, honey, there's some candy in the kitchen. Go get some buddy.” he gasped and jumped out of the bed, running towards the kitchen.

“Natasha.. you dirty little– close the door,” she smirked and shut the door close. “I'm sorry for being overly emotional.. I wasn't feeling this way when I was pregnant with Alex.” you spoke up as she sat in bed next to you. “It's okay, moya lyubov, don't apologize.” she grasped your hand and gave it a light squeeze. “I hope you know that Alex is.. distracted by a toy car set I left for him in the living room.” she whispered as her gaze flickered down to your lips. “mhm..?” you move over to her lap, “yeah.” she smiled as she nipped at your lips. You felt her tongue glide over your bottom lip, “you're so beautiful, detka..” she rasped as she pulled you in for a slow kiss, tasting the sweetness of the candy in your mouth.

“You think?” you mumbled against her mouth, “well why else would I have gotten you knocked up?” you roll your eyes and lightly punch her on the bicep. It did nothing considering her strength. “oh my God, do you always need to ruin cute moments, Tasha?” she whines as she pushes your body closer to hers, “is the moment back?” she said as her hand rested on your thigh, slowly creeping upwards. “Maybe..” the corners of your lips quirk up into a soft smile. “'Maybe'?” she snaked her arm behind your waist, pushing your breasts against her chest. A silent moan slipped past your lips, “Natasha..” she had a cocky grin on her face as she groped your breast through your clothes. “mm..” she cocked her head to the side and spoke up, “what about cute moments being ruined?” God, why is my wife so insufferable?

“Nat.” you gasped softly as she snuck her hand under your shirt. Well— her shirt that you for that, but she can't get upset at you for that, you being pregnant with her 2nd child is a good enough excuse. You let out a sigh of relief as her cold palm gently rubbed your stomach, soothing your overheated skin. “Does that feel okay? Am I hurting you?” she asks as she continues her gentle movements, “y-yeah.. it feels good, don't worry. Keep going.” you gripped onto her muscular shoulder as her other hand went up your bra. “Natasha.. darling, be gentle.” she peeked up at your face, understanding that she was touching your sensitive areas. “I will, babe, shhh..” she lightly kissed your neck, slowly sucking at your pulse point. You whimpered quietly as your grip on her shoulder tightened.

“Have I ever told you that you look sexy pregnant?” you groaned at her words, “yes, yes you have. My annoying, mood ruining, wife of mine.” she feigned a dramatic gasp, “I don't ruin the mood.” you scoffed. “Two years ago, when I was pregnant with Alex. It was hailing outside and—” you get cut off with a pair of lips over yours, “yeah, yeah, shut up.” she squeezed your waist and locked her lips with yours. Natasha, you bitch. I love you.

“Can someone play cars wif meeeeee?” you heard Alex from the other side of the door. “Nat. Go play cars with my cute little chicken.” you muttered against her lips. “Chicken? So you were pretending to be mad at me.” you giggle as you move off of her lap, “maybe I was, who knows? Now go give our son attention.” she chastely kissed you before leaving the bedroom. “I love you so much.” you smile, “I love you too.”

You wanted him back. Your cute, chubby little chicken.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #say yes to me

[seancekitsch]

Hi if you're open to requests: could you do an Adrian x fem reader with the premise of them having known eachother in highschool and sticking together as ostracized weirdos. Reader leaves evergreen after graduating HS and comes back 10 years later and runs into Adrian. I love your writing and how you characterize Adrian!!

hi hi hi i hope you enjoy this it got away from me and now its a full blown fic

A Homecoming

warnings: best friends to strangers to lovers, gut chase is his own warning, maybe ooc, angry drunk sex, bad speeches, love confessions, angry fluff if that makes sense, happy ending even tho both idiots are in their bag down bad

“How the fuck did Laura meet Gut Chase of all people?” you whisper to yourself as you pick out produce to stock the fridge of your Airbnb. It's a crappy one bedroom house on what was once the nicer side of town, the side with lovely little suburbs away from all of the apartments and trailer parks that people turned their nose up at. You remember those noses turned up at you for your lovely little apartment that you called a childhood home. Now it feels freaky to be on the other side, in a rancher in a suburb with cute little pinterest craft-esque decor on the walls and a Friends reference as the wi-fi password. Fucking yuck.

You never expected to be back in Evergreen after high school, especially not for a wedding. You flew across the country for college to basically avoid this very situation, but here you are. Your college roommate who got a job in Seattle bringing you back to your home town to marry easily the biggest douche from your high school. Your invitation to the fifteen year reunion came in the mail and was thrown directly into the trash several months ago muttering about how they even fucking found your newest address, and then the fuckin save the date from Laura came behind it. You’d known Laura was dating some gym trainer, you knew she said he was from a small town. She’s always been one to fall fast and hard, and you can count on more fingers than you've got the amount of times through college and grad school she had cried over a failed date with “the one” before getting back in the proverbial saddle.

You fondle an onion and think about the last time you saw Gut Chase. It was… the morning after your graduation. The morning you left for Gotham. He was sat at the breakfast bar of their house sipping coffee and raising an eyebrow at you trying to sneak out of his house for once instead of into it. 

Now having taken that trip for the first time in reverse, your long taxi ride from the airport to the airbnb felt like a death march. You’d left behind so much and burned any bridges that could have been left here.

June 2008

“The guys are never going to believe this.”

“Dude, you’re not telling any guys about this,” you laugh, wrapping yourself around Adrian’s torso, the lean muscle taught under his skin as he laughs with you. You weight dips and moves on the trampoline below you, the stupid double wide sleeping bag doing nothing for your back, especially after you’ve been standing in heels all day and sweating in your graduation cap and gown. 

“But then I can finally tell Gut and Chris it’s just that I’m a late bloomer! And if I don’t tell them it was you they won’t believe me!” Adrian exclaims, not at all worried by the open windows of his own house or the other backyards that the dawn is going to slowly creep over. You roll your eyes, your best friend always consumed with impressing his older brother and his friends. 

“That's not a thing. Isn’t it enough that we had this?” you ask, you cheek pressing into his bare chest. His legs tangle in the early summer heat under the cheap sleeping bag.

“No!” He exclaims, laughing like you should be in on it too, but you don’t laugh with him. Your virginity was never important to you, it’s just that everyone else in Evergreen sucks. He’s the only one that you would have deemed worthy anyway. 

You figured: You leave for college tomorrow, he’s the best person you know, and he’s hot even if he doesn’t know it. You’re both virgins- or- you were until you dragged him out into the backyard around two in the morning after passing back and forth a bottle of peach schnapps that he had been arguing about with you all night until he figured out it tasted like candy; the party his older brother hosting in yours and Adrian’s name very quickly became not about you and about him and his friends who had graduated a few years prior. 

Tomorrow you’ll be a month away from being eighteen and across the country by yourself and you haven’t told anyone but your mother, but it hasn’t quite hit you yet. It can’t when a sticky condom was thrown across the yard twenty minutes ago, and That’s Not My Name by the Ting Tings is bass boosted and floating in the air from the house, and Adrian Chase just gave you your first orgasm. 

“Maybe it is,” he admits, his voice now heavy with sleep. You don’t know when he falls asleep, but you leave before he wakes.

Your hand shakes at self check out, wondering if Adrian and his brother patched things up enough to be a groomsman. Laura made you a bridesmaid over FaceTime, talking your ear off about how much Dorian wasn’t her normal type but when you know you know, you know? And even then it never struck you to remember that Gut’s real name is Dorian. Maybe you’d be paired up, and maybe Adrian had changed enough in this span of time to forgive you and look you in the eye. You don’t count on it, honestly, you expect him to throw a fit the second he sees you. You don’t blame him for that hypothetical reaction either. It’s been over a decade with two degrees six terrible boyfriends and only one friend who ever came close to how special Adrian was for you. And now she’s marrying Adrian’s dickhead brother.

Its only a few minutes after you load the dirty old fridge of your airbnb (definitely only getting three stars, the place is sketch) that you phone rings, Laura’s contact illuminating the dull lighting of the kitchen. You put her on facetime while you load the pantry. 

“BITCH!” she screams, her smile illuminating a dim screen as her voice cuts through all of the loud background noise, “Where are you?”

You laugh, tossing the veggie chips into the back of the pantry.

“Where am I?” you scoff, “I’m at my Airbnb, I was about to throw on a bad movie and drink some wine. Where are you, Miss Bride?”

She puts the phone up close to her face, only her eye showing as she fake whispers into the mic.

“I’m at Hooters,” she confides like its the funniest secret.

“Oh, with Mr. Groom?” you ask, teasing her as you reach for the bottle and the corkscrew, one of the few amenities left to you in the drawers. 

“With tha whooooole wedding party,” she draws out the words without taking the phone away from her eye.

“You had their LIT’s, didn't you?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“And I just bought one for you,” she confirms, “So you better get an uber or I’m going to switch out your bridesmaid dress for an Aquaman costume.”

“You slut!” you shout, swiping up on her call to obey her and pull up uber, “You wouldn't. Aquaman is such a chump.”

“So get over here!” she laughs, and it's infectious. God, you've missed Laura. Sure, you facetime twice a week, but she lived with you for six years and it's like losing a hand to lose her being just a few layers of drywall away at all times. 

“I am, I am! Its ordered,” you assure her, and a comfortable silence settles, she sips her drink, her hand clawlike to hold both hers and yours so she can hold her phone in the other. 

“You know he fucks the fish, right?” you ask.

“You're the second person to say that tonight!”

The uber to Hooters is quick, thank god. The bright lights feeling harsh on your skin and you really wish Laura hadn't threatened you with the costume. It’s manipulation at its finest. You had the most recent kissing booth movie right there ready to be made fun of over your coffee mug full of wine. But no, you have to stand around in a Hooters in your hometown. Youre flooded with relief, however, when you walk past the hostess stand and clock that theres a touchtunes machine in the corner so you can at least entertain yourself with awful song choices. You know who would love hearing the Monster Mash followed by Call Me Maybe? You and Laura. Especially after she tries to pour that LIT down your throat the moment she sees you. 

“There she is!” Laura shouts, helping you tilt back the glass immediately. It's just like college again, your days back in Gotham where you’d wander away from the college bars and see how much liquor you could get for your money. 

“Mm, holy shit,” you cry out, barely able to down the drink in one go, “That's how you snagged your groom?”

She crinkles her nose at you,her blonde hair falling in her face as she leans in close.

“He happened to like my squat thrust, I know I have to work harder than that to win you over,” she quips, and you rub your nose with hers before pushing yourself out of her arms reach. 

“Now where is he? Who are these bridesmaids I’m sharing my spotlight with?” you ask, letting her lead you further in towards the bar. 

Gut Chase himself meets you halfway across the restaurant.

“Y/N!” He shouts, “You’re kidding me! I thought Laura-girl was joking when she said she knew you.”

“Gut!” you shout back, surprising yourself that you're actually sort of happy to see the familiar face. He pulls you under his bicep quickly, ruffling your hair as if you were his little sibling. 

“She was so weird after she got kicked off the cheer squad,” he explains to his fiancee, “She spent all her time in my basement with my little brother! This one lived with us.”

“Oh, Adrian?” she asks hesitantly trying to remember his brother's name , and something weird twinges in your chest.

“Yeah,” you manage to get out, your voice and your breath practically leaving you. 

Is he here? Does he hate you? Does he miss you? The first few years without him were tough, you would turn to tell him something or think of something funny you had to say and it all just had to float into the wind, forgotten. Then Laura sort of filled that gap. Then your D&D group. But the Adrian sized hole can only be squeezed into, never full filled, never a perfect fit. 

“Yo, Adrian!” Gut calls out before you can stop him, “Get your ass over here!”

Gut releases his grip on you and a man across the bar looks up from his phone. 

And it's like time slows down, and as he slides off the barstool “Foxy” by Jimi Hendrix floods the air like that scene in Wayne's World. Its like he moves in slow motion, his sweater doing nothing to obscure his physique and muscles, his glasses doing nothing to hide those beautiful eyes of his. He's changed so much, but not at all, just filled out what was already there. You're not sure if it's the LIT or the sight of him that's making your knees feel like they’re buckling.

“Why is she here?” Adrian asks his brother, his posture straight and tone unreadable, and Gut gives him a warning look. You almost pity Laura that you didn't brief her on on your intimate knowledge of the family she was marrying into.

“Bro…” Gut warns him, less than subtle. You've seen this before, but in high school, Gut would have just hit Adrian already or called him a pussy.

“Hey, uh, Gut? Sorry, Dorian?” he turns his attention to you as you correct yourself, “Why don't you take my dear Laura for another LIT? I could use another one too.”

Laura looks at you like you've got three heads for commanding the situation, but gladly lets her fiance lead her back over to order another, whispering to you that she’ll bring yours on Gut’s tab. 

Adrian stares at you, looking you up and down, sizing you up… not sexually, maybe… maybe? Wouldn't be the worst thing, he’s always been handsome to you, but he's really filled out. 

“Why are you here?” he asks you directly, his knuckles turning white around his beer. 

“I….,” words fail you for a moment, breath hitching in your throat as a million things want to spill from your lips. 

I’m sorry, I’ve always regretted leaving you, I wanted you to come with me, I wish I took you with me, I compared even the stupidest tinder date to you, I want to make you laugh, I loved you since I was a kid, Even Laura doesn’t get me like you do. 

But you don’t say any of that. You can’t. 

“I’m here for the wedding,” you say, holding it all back even though you could collapse into his arms at any moment. 

“Me too,” He says, “Only I’ve been here and who knows where you were.”

Okay; you deserve that snark from him. 

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

An understatement of the century but it’ll do for now. If you say too much, you’ll cry. You cannot cry in a Hooters. 

“Or say goodbye?”

“I know, I’m sorry for that too. I’m sorry for everything.”

Adrian’s arms fall around you, the cold heel of the bottle of the glass digging between your shoulder blades as you lean into the hug against him. It feels like home being in his arms again, only now the arms are filled out with muscle and he

“I’m sorry too,” Adrian offers, but there's no real emotion behind it. You can tell he doesn't really mean it; an empty thing to say just because he thinks he should, but that doesn't bother you.

“There's nothing to be sorry for, “ you console him genuinely, your hand rubbing up against his henley covered bicep. 

“I know, I’m just saying that. I’m not the one who abandoned my best friend. Now I have a new best friend!”

You pull back, not at all upset because you expect that too, and at this moment Laura comes back with your LIT. 

“For courage,” she whispers not at all subtly in your ear before kissing your cheek and running back to her fiance. 

“Why do you need courage?” Adrian asks, not pretending he didn't hear that.

“Cause I never should have left… and you look really good.”

It's definitive, it's out there. You can't and you won't take it back for anything. It's the truth. You love Laura and the fact that you met her but you absolutely should not have left Adrian to do it. 

You take the straw to your mouth and suck, not pulling away from Adrian, instead your hand still around his back clawing into his sweater to keep him there. 

“You look really good too! Pretty, because women don't like being called hot.”

You dont know where he got that from, but you accept the compliment nonetheless. 

“You know, I was really mad at you for like a year, but then I just got over it, I figured you were trying to teach me some weird lesson about missed opportunities or acting out part of some romantic comedy but then you didn't come back and… I’ll shut up now,” he says, misreading your attention on him as a bad thing. 

“I wanted to call you back,” you admit, “But how do I call you and say: Hey, I’m in Gotham now! Even though we were supposed to get dinner tonight I guess I wont be making those plans. I didnt know what to do.”

“I could have come with you!”

You both know thats a fucking lie. 

“I’m glad I got to see you,” you offer, the words so bittersweet on your tongue. His eyes search your face, and you realize then you probably should have re-applied some make up. Its set into your face from the flight this morning and all of the errands you've run. You probably look like some kind of victim. 

"Me too, because honesty I've thought about that night a lot. I've tried to rank where it falls between all the threesomes I've had."

Weird flex, but, okay.

"I do too," you admit as you grab the straw for another sip, "not the threesomes thing, but I think about it... about you."

Something about Adrian's gaze has you open and honest, moreso than you would normally be with a man. But then again, Adrian isn't just some man...

“Finish that,” he tells you, his eyes zeroed in to where your lips and the straw connect. You obey, drinking what you can before putting the glass down on the nearest empty table. 

“Adrian I-” You get cut off by his lips capturing yours; Adrian kisses you with a passion you haven’t felt in fucking years, the passion of someone who actually cared. Sure, you've had boyfriends and girlfriends, but none have kissed you like this. 

Instead of hot and bothered you feel cold… and wet.

“Adrian, what the fuck-?” you whisper when you can break away, something dripping down your leg. His beer spilling as he tilts the bottle carelessly to grip you better. You break away from him to shake the beer off of your jeans, a puddle forming on the ground. He scrambles to right the turned bottle and place it on the same table as your LIT.

“I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m not good at understanding people,” he admits to you as if you didnt spend all of high school attached at the hip, and this time you kiss him, your hands coming up to cup his clean-shaven jawline.

The next thing you know, you're back at your airbnb, having Irish goodbye’d to Laura and Gut and without meeting or talking to the rest of the wedding party. Youre being a bad friend and a bad bridesmaid and you know it. You hadn’t had the chance to ask Adrian why Gut was so friendly to him, though Laura might have a hand in that. You hadn’t had the chance to ask where he worked, what he liked to do, who Adrian now was really. 

 Adrian’s mouth barely leaves yours the second the door is closed, instead backing you quickly into what he correctly guessed is the bedroom of the house. His reflexes are sharp, unlike the awkward teen he was, and he knows how to perfectly steer you to your bed for the next week.

You walk backwards awkwardly until your calves meet the boxspring unceremoniously. He tilts you back until you fall on your own, your elbows catching you as he follows suit and crawls on top of your figure. You don't know where the confidence comes from, but then again it had fifteen years to form in him. Adrian pulls off your shoes and your pants quickly as he moves up the bed, not even trying to hide his prowess, moving like some kind of well trained machine. He’s come to impress even though he's done more than that by simply not snubbing you or telling you off in the middle of a Hooters, although both would have been deserved.

But you; You feel like you're back out on that trampoline again, your graduation dress pushed up around your waist, all too bare under him. No time has passed, it’s all so familiar -

“I should hate you” he states, his lips hovering over your navel, “But it's weird, I don't! In fact, I feel like I should be thanking you. If hadn't left and rejected me so hard I wouldn't have gotten so buff and good looking.”

“You should hate me,” you agree, your breath and your words feeling lost in your chest under the weight of him on top of you. His lips travel from your navel to your ribcage, pushing your shirt up as he goes, leaving a trail of fire in their path. You arch your back into his motions, your hands helping him pull the shirt off, awkwardly shuffling until you can fling it to some random corner of the room. Adrian’s eyes widen when he sees your bralette, mesh and flimsy and hiding nothing from him.

He pulls one of the dark blue mesh cups down, immediately latching his lips around your pert nipple, sucking and earning a sharp inhale of breath from you. He chuckles against your skin at your reaction to him, and then does it again. Cocky asshole. You can't help but compare this to the trampoline. He was so unsure, fumbling and almost tearful at the fear of fucking something up. You led the way, urged him on. Adrian now needs no urging, no guidance in making you squirm beneath him. His lips release your nipple, and he bites down at the top of the swell of your breast, sure to leave a mark. Youll have to remember to put a spoon in the freezer tomorrow morning or else you could end up with a wardrobe malfunction for the wedding. Cocky bastard, you think, leaving his mark on you. 

But really, he’d left so many marks on you that still havent faded. Its the way your ringtone from high school never changed, its the way you bought only the brands of locks Adrian said were best for each apartment you've had, its the way you buy things in teal if theres the option. Your fucking spatula back home is one of his many marks.

“Ah!” you yelp when his bite gets a little too hard, your perfectly manicured fake nails digging into his back. Adrian laughs again and pulls himself up to reach your neck, his hands exploring everywhere they can, teasing at your chest, your waist, your hips. 

“Fuck me,” you plead as his lips connect with the pulsepoint on your throat.

“Youre sure?” He asks, “You know, you shouldn’t fuck someone who should hate you. That's just asking for complications.”

And although he gives you an out, he’s already gone back to kissing and licking at your throat and groping at every curve of your body. You're thinking with your pussy, not your mind right now. You know there should be a conversation instead of whats happening right now. Maybe some tears shed, maybe a nostalgic movie and some honest explanations on your part. 

But you don't initiate any of that.

“Then fuck me like you hate me,” you say instead.

Adrian grinds his jean clad length against your core, and you whine, girlish and high pitched and embarrassing. He shushes you, removing himself from your grasp to yank off his sweater and undershirt, then his jeans all discarded over the edge of the foot of the bed. 

He moves to you, working your panties down your legs until you can kick them off the bed at your ankles, and sheds his boxers with them. His eyes follow the trail of your legs to your center, already dripping and ready for him. 

“You really want that?” he asks, and it sounds rhetorical. You didnt know Adrian could do that. He traces his calloused hands up the insides of your thighs, letting his fingertips tease you where you need him most. You nod fervently, arching your back to try to reach him, bring him closer.

“Please?” you ask, wanton and pathetic under him. He draws his thumb between your folds, testing the metaphorical waters. He draws low, anticipation laced moans from your lips, teasing and slow. 

And then without warning pushes two fingers into you. 

Your gasp echoes against the cliches wall decor, rattling the glass of the live laugh love frame, shaking the flimsy bedframe. 

He does not start slowly, no, he gives you no mercy in his motions, his smirk teasing and taunting you as he thrusts his hand.

“Adrian, I- Fuck!” you struggle to find the words, your hands moving to his forearms and digging your nails in, trying to hold on for dear life. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asks. Fuck, you didn’t know Adrian could talk like this. And to think, you could have had this the whole time if you just stayed here. 

“Yeah,” you whine, “Yeah, please.”

You're not sure what youre begging for. To cum? To feel him? You just want more. 

“I’ll give you exactly what you want,” he leans down like he’s going to kiss you, and then instead nips at your lip before pulling back. Its cruel. 

His fingers move in, out, in, out, inout, and then slow to a halt inside you. You squirm under him, needing him to do anything. Anything. 

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he says, and you flush in embarrassment, neediness and heat settling in your chest.

“Adrian, I need you,” Your voice sounds far away, underwater, foreign to your ears. Who is this person? How and when did you ever get this needy, this desperate? His smile grows, but it does not give you any comfort. 

Adrian removes his fingers from you, lifting them up to his nose to smell them.

“Like fucking candy,” he remarks, and pushes his boxers down, easily discarding them. 

He leans back down, his weight on you once more. A weighted blanket, a comfort as his chest presses against yours. You kiss him, the way a smoker needs a cigarette, pulling and all consuming; your hands find purchase in his hair, your body fully reactive to every tiny movement of his lips against yours. His tongue sweeps across your lips, easily parting them the same way he easily parted your legs. He moves against you, rock hard in the crux of your thigh, his big hands holding your hips in place as he finds his way. Adrian probes along, pushing his hips in slow teasing motions until he finds his rightful spot at your center. 

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he whispers between kisses, and you brace yourself against him, foreheads touching and his glasses fogged. 

He pushes into you with a groan, bottoming out and giving you the grace to adjust before he starts to move.

Adrian’s hips rock you, the whole bed, your whole world, your hands tighten around his curls as they pick up in pace, the rhythm of the bedframe banging against the bed punctuating each of his movements.  He picks up his pace quickly, and you move in time easily, rolling your hips to meet his with each thrust. 

“Fffffuck,” you stutter, losing control of your lips, your tongue, both moving of their own accord and saying shit. There’s a war in your brain, part of you wants to stay in control, wants to make sense of this; the other side wants everything Adrian to overtake everything you. 

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he repeats, switching up his angle to make your next moan a pitiful squeak in your throat. 

“You,” you gasp again, “You said that.”

His hands roam the geography of your body, mapping each curve and dip of you, not missing a single centimeter. Everything he touches turns to flame, hot under him and hot under his touch, pushing you closer and closer to your boiling point. 

You won't last long, you know that. Adrian moans above you, dragging his lips against the corner of yours as he moves, closer and closer.

And then he pulls out. You whine at the missing contact, the chill that sets in without his heat in your orbit. You pout, lips messy and swollen. 

“Turn over,” he demands, moving his finger in a circle to demonstrate his intention. You obey quickly, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. His hands land first on your ass, smacking both sides of your cheeks and whispering “hell yeah” in a tone you're definitely sure you weren't supposed to hear. His hands then slide from your ass to your hip, then to your back. He unclips your bra and lets the straps fall down your shoulders.

He bends down over you, letting his chest press into your bare back as he presses a kiss to the space where your neck and shoulder meet. 

“Down, girl,” he says, as one of his big hands starts to push your shoulder down until you cave into his movements, folding into the bed until your face hits the pillow.

Fuck, all control of the situation you had, you’ve lost. The ground crumbling out from under you and Adrian can mold and manipulate you any way he wants to, and you want him to. 

His free hand strokes down the curve of your back, and then leaves you, only to position himself back at your entrance. 

“Oh, you look beautiful like this,” Adrian sighs, sounding strained. You've always trusted Adrian to be honest, and you can believe he means it, like he would worship you face down ass up.

He presses his length into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him, a glacial pace until he’s fully sheathed. 

Adrian wiggles his hips when theyre fully against your ass, and you huff in laughter, giggling into the pillow before he silences you with a rough thrust. 

This new angle feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, but in a way that you want to feel over and over again, in a way that makes you feel breathless and alive. The next thrust and the one after that leave you gasping and struggling for air, the ones after it drawing high pitched whines into the silk of the pillowcases.

He pistons into you quickly after that, like a man with something to prove. He presses his full length into you each time, and each time hitting a spot inside you that has you feeling fuzzy and hot all over. His hand returns to your hip to  guide his motions and yours. 

You chase your high, rocking back into his thrusts and meeting each of them half way. Your moans are swallowed in the silk, wrapped and buried down deep into the mattress, rooted in him and the moment. 

“How am I doing?” he asks, and sensuality gone from his voice, but thats just Adrian.

You moan in response, his fingers digging into your skin, sure to leave crescent moons in your skin that would last far into the morning.

“Close,” you manage to squeak out, your voice barely audible, but Adrian picks up on what you're trying to say. 

“Yeah? You wanna come on my dick?” he asks, but doesn’t give you a choice otherwise. Adrian moves his hand from gripping your hip to between your legs. His fingers circle your clit, just the right amount of pressure to make it feel like you're about to snap. 

“Please,” you whine, arching your back further into the friction.

“Let go, baby, let go,” he coaxes you, his lips against your spine and you finally give in to him. 

He slows and kisses your shoulder while you ride your high, whispering praise against your skin as you shudder beneath him, his whole frame bent over yours. His hand leaves your clit and both come up to hug around your waist, anchoring you to him and the world and bringing you back down. All you can think of is that you could have had this the whole time. Fifteen years of this. 

But then he returns to his former position, the hand on your shoulder returning there as he picks up the pace again. It stings when he starts to move, but not terribly. A soothing burn that you find yourself rocking back into without a second thought. 

“Where can I?” He asks through gritted teeth, lifting his hand off of your shoulder so you can lift your head up. 

“Inside,” you answer, voice still muffled by the pillow, "I'll get plan b, there's always a coupon for that shit."

“Got it,” he confirms, and then speeds up his pace again. This time his hips are messy, without rhythm as his body meets yours, his voice uncontrolled as me moans without restraint. 

Even overstimulated and tired, you rock back in time to meet him, moaning each time his hip bones meet your ass. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-” he stutters, and pulls back unceremoniously, heat streaming and filling you only seconds later. You shift slowly, trying to get your knees out from under you. 

Adrian stops you though, one of his hands a soothing comfort on your hip to guide you to a comfier position as his other hand dabs a tissue from the bedside on your back. 

He cleans you off remarkably gently, moving over you to throw himself down on the blankets beside you, his head hitting the empty second pillow. Your back feels sticky and cold, but you don't mind at all. You turn your head so at least one one your eyes can peek out at him from where you lay spent and tired, a mess of sweat and spit and butterflies in your stomach. He lays in a similar state, breathing deeply with a lazy smile across his features.

It feels right.

“Stay and cuddle?” you ask, voice wary from use and the need for sleep. You feebly move your hand toward him, reaching out to straighten his glasses.

“Sure,” he says, “But I won't be here when you wake up.”

He puts his big arm across your back, and where you should feel the familiar warmth you only feel ice. 

“Really?” you ask, but fuck, thats a mistake. You shouldn't say anything. It's an instant realization you don't want to hear anything he’s about to say. 

“It’s what we do, right?” Adrian says it like it’s a joke, but there’s venom in his words. It drips through, from his teeth to yours, and sinks in. 

He pulls you close, his actions not matching his words, and snuggles in, his hot breath fanning out against your face. His eyes close and he lets his body relax quickly. You try to do the same, but you end up staring at the ceiling fan, trying to think of any reason why Adrian would actually stay. You don't know when you fall asleep, but it's long after he does. 

True to his word, he’s not in the airbnb when you wake up. Just cold sheets and an empty glass of water and a half eaten green apple on your counter. That's all to signify he was even here, that you and your best friend had a sleepover after fifteen years. No real evidence, no trophy, not even his phone number, not even a cup left in the sink for you to clean when you do the dishes. Even the marks of his nails are fading away into nothing.

You deserve that, you think, all of Adrian’s talk of hate fucking of course wasnt a joke. When had he ever not said what he meant? He’d always told you what was on his mind, no filter and often TMI. But that doesnt stop the tears that fall, the streaking of last night's mascara down your cheekbones and the messy foundation you didn't take off. 

True to your words last night as well, before you even brush your teeth you order a plan b kit from Doordash. Now you wait, and wallow. 

It comes quickly, you take it, you feel no different.

You lay on the couch, the bed feeling weird and wrong now that it's been used and abandoned by Adrian. It's definitely going to be a long week, you think, and you debate trying to contact the airbnb host to see if you can check out early. Maybe you can take a rental car up to that town they shot Twin Peaks in and stay at the hotel or something. 

This was a mistake. All of it. You shouldn't have let Adrian kiss you, you shouldn't have kissed him. You shouldn't have wanted him. You shouldn't still want him. 

Your phone rings. Laura.

“Holy shit,” she sighs, her voice shaking, “Can I ask you the biggest favor?”

You have nothing to lose at this point, besides your comfort in the stilettos she has you wearing for the bridal party.

“Yeah, whats up?”

“I need,” her voice breaks, and you can tell it's serious. 

“Whoa, what do you need? I’ll drop everything,” you interrupt and reassure her, and it's not like you had anything scheduled but self pity until the rehearsal tonight and the dinner at Fennel Fields afterwards. Laura’s not someone you've ever liked to hear or see cry, because she never does so unless she has a good reason. 

“Gina’s plane got delayed,” she explains, “You remember Gina?”

You remember Gina well, Laura’s best friend since diapers, your Adrian basically. She was the maid of honor and you were basically second in command to her. 

“Babe, I know Geen,” You remind her. Gina gave you your first pot brownie.

“Well her plane got delayed and she's stuck in Metropolis on her layover until the morning of the wedding and then she still might miss hair and make up but she's not here for the rehearsal dinner speech and I don't know what to do,” Laura sucks in a desperate breath, “I don't want to cancel the dinner speeches I know Dorian's best man had a plan.”

“You don't have to,” you tell her, “You made me second in command.”

“I know, I need you to write a speech if you can.”

At this point you can tell Laura is crying on the other end of the line. 

“It's done. Don't worry your sexy little face about it,” you comfort her, not really thinking about what you're signing yourself up for but your undying loyalty to her taking over the rational thought in your mind. 

“That doesn't make sense,” her voice is still watery, but you can hear the smile through it.

“Hang up on me and go make out with Gut,” you tell her, “Leave the amateur hour to me.”

And she does just that, whispering her thanks to you as she cuts herself off. 

Oh, what have you gotten yourself into?

This fucking speech, your saving grace of a distraction. Fuck, fuck, fuck what do I say? You think. You wrack your brain on what to say, you practice, you write line after line in green glittery gel pen on a piece of stationary you found in the homes kitchen. You treat it like a stand up set, ‘yes and-ing’ yourself to death to try to think of something that doesn't sound stupid. You've never been in a long term relationship that was ever actually going anywhere. You're so incapable of wording what love is…

No, thats a lie you tell yourself. The words come easily now, the words flow like water from a fountain. 

It's not clear how you're going to go through the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Knowing Adrian will be in the same proximity as you; Knowing that with Adrian one kiss is too many and a thousand is never enough. You want to bash your head against the wall, but instead you save your airbnb fees and focus on doing your hair and makeup and getting dressed.

You look at the dress you brought for the rehearsal, one of two garment bags hanging on the top of the closet door. Your bridesmaid dress; an olive green, low cut, with a soft flowing skirt. And then the dress for tonight, one that was already in your closet at home from your thrifting as a broke college student; navy vintage polyester taffeta, with an extremely tight square neck bodice and a tea length skirt that puffed out. You had sewn a comically big pink heart with white lace into the bottom of the bodice a week after you had gotten it. Laura came home to you sitting with fabric and thread strewn across the floor of your shared apartment. You knew this dress was a memory between you two, and that's why you picked it for tonight. Putting it on alone is a little difficult, but you manage. The only thing Laura asked out of your comfort zone was that all bridesmaids wore silver stilettos. Fucking evil, but you throw those on the passenger seat of your rental car. 

You crinkle the paper with your speech in your hand as you clutch it against the steering wheel, and pull out of the driveway of the rancher.

The rehearsal goes smoothly, but that wasn't the part you were worried about. You only wrinkled part of your skirt under your sweaty hands but for the most part it was salvageable. You're walking with one of Gut’s coworkers, a nice guy named Mike who has also never been in a wedding before and he’s easy to use as a distraction from those green eyes you can't stand to feel on your skin. Laura is happy and that's what matters. That's what you tell yourself every time your smile falters.

You avoid his eyes at all costs as you enter the back room of Fennel Fields, taking your seat next to Laura’s mother, taking the Maid of Honor seat and looking at the fixed course menu after a polite hello to the woman who helped you find a Gotham apartment without remnants of fear gas in the venting. Adrian sits at the table diagonal from you now, a slight relief from the onslaught of him and everything about him. Your clammy hand reaches for the menu, passing it to the waiter nearby after clarifying that everything looked fine with no substitutions; everyone does the same and you try to keep yourself preoccupied by any means necessary to avoid that gaze. 

Champagne is poured and you want to drink it down, want to take the edge off in any way possible. 

But you don't. You can't. The note in your dress pocket prevents you from doing that. 

Gut’s best man goes first. He gives a lovely speech, you figure. He talks about how Laura and Gut are like puzzle pieces or something and how she’s been such a light in his life. It's odd to think that Gut’s friends know so much of Laura, that she’s become one of their group. Her other bridesmaids are even Gut’s friend’s wives and girlfriends except for you and Gina and one other girl, her coworker at this new job.

 You keep your eyes trained on him, and on Gut and Laura. They look so in love, so genuinely happy. Fuck, its beautiful. 

“So I’ll end this trainwreck on a toast. To the lovely Bride and Groom: may they make their honeymoon flight, and not lose their luggage!”

You laugh, whispering a cheers before tapping your flute on the table and finally sipping champagne yourself.  

Now it's your turn. On unsteady legs, whether from the stilettos Laura has you wearing or your emotional state, you rise from your seat and pull the grossly crumpled piece of paper from your dress pocket. 

The microphone gets passed to you and you steel yourself to do your best stage face and voice. Give them senior year at Gotham University’s production of Miss Julie.

Here goes nothing.

“Hi,” you start, clear and confident, “I’m not Gina. I’m sorry, I wish I was.”

Laura’s mom and a few of the wedding party laugh. You don't look at Adrian.

“And to make matters worse, I’m not even qualified to give this speech.”

You earn another laugh, this time from more people, and Laura snorts and slams her hand down on the table. She can correctly guess how you screamed in your airbnb trying to write this, having watched you struggle through editing stand up sets for years. She knows you probably talked to yourself in the mirror to get this right. 

“I’ve sabotaged my chance at love but these kids? They know what they’re doing.”

What the fuck does that next line say, you sweaty bitch? Why the fuck did you use gel pens for this?

“Before I moved into my studio in Condiment King’s territory—“ you pause for laughter and get some, “— I lived with Laura. And she was good, I guess.”

You stick your tongue out at her, winking. 

“She showed me how to use a hair straightener and how to shotgun a beer, but most importantly she showed me what it looks like to actively be vulnerable and put yourself on the line for love. She faced the dating world before tinder, but she also extended that vulnerability to me. With her making soup for me when I’d had a crappy day, and calling me out when I’d done something wrong to put me back on the right path, she always loved me fully and with care. Not gentleness, though. After a frat formal she threw a glass at me once.”

The room erupted in laughter and Laura looked fake-embarrassed. 

“But I have also had the privilege of knowing the groom. Dorian, or as I know him, Gut Chase, was someone I always knew would make sure I didn’t end up dead in a ditch. I was briefly a cheerleader, he was in football and a few years older, but I had someone close to him that I held dearly and he kept that in mind. I don’t think he liked me much when we were growing up, but he always made sure I had a ride home and a place to stay. I wasn’t allowed to speak to him in public but I wasn’t going to get hurt around him.” 

The room laughed again, although you only focus on the smile of one of the groomsmen who doesn't meet your gaze. You crumple the paper further because you can’t even read it at this point and you don’t remember what it said.

“The point is, I don't need to have some love story of my own to know what care and love look like when it comes to these two. I know I could have had something like this and I'm endlessly jealous of my prettier college roommate. And judging from last night and today I’ve never seen such explicit love between two people, the way they orbit each other and care for the people in their lives. They've found someone who is not only going to be there at night for them when things are fun, but they've found someone who’s going to be there in the morning. And someone they're going to be there in the morning for. Someone that's going to take care of the good and the bad and someone that they're going to show up for in that way, too. It’s fucking beautiful. I’m sorry for cursing. Let’s get hammered.”

You knock back your champagne and remind yourself to call an uber and leave your rental here. Maybe it's heavy handed that you mentioned the morning. But really, had you stayed that morning with Adrian you would have never left. You would have thrown away college had he kissed you again the morning after. People cheer and you scurry to get away from the spotlight, people start to stand from where they were and waiters start to clear plates and people begin to go to the bar. You're one of the first.

You order another glass of champagne. Had Adrian asked, you would have stayed. You know that. You've always known that, and that's exactly why you had to leave before he woke up. Fate is cruel, bringing you back here. 

“Baaabe!” Laura shouts, Gut in tow, and throws her arms around you.

You hug her back with the arm not holding your glass. 

“That was amazing,” she says, and you can only scoff, not willing to take the praise. 

“You did good, Runt,” Gut offers, patting your shoulder with a fond smile on his face. Maybe people can change. 

“Thanks guys,” you sigh, and try to gulp down this next glass as well. 

“Who were you talking about?” Laura asks. 

You choke on your sip.

“Who?”

“In the speech, you said you blew it with someone, who was it?”

Gut’s grip on your shoulder gets a little tighter. 

“Do you want a tequila shot?” you deflect, and never one to turn down a challenge, she accepts. 

You shoot Gut a thankful glance, although he actually didn't do anything. 

The next morning you wake up to your alarm with the slightest headache, two full glasses of water and a bottle of advil on your bedside table that you don't remember placing there but you also don't expect to with all the champagne and tequila going to your head.

It's still forty five minutes before you have to be at the wedding venue but you shower in under ten minutes and call an uber (thankful for your foresight to leave your car last night) the second you're dry. It's a good thing the ride is quick to the venue and they dont mind that you've thrown your bridesmaid dress and shoes and an additional backpack across the back seat. The uber driver is far too loud and friendly for this hour, your headache starting to get stronger even though you took the advil.

Laura’s already there and panicking, her lashes done and her immediately screaming at you to get into the hair chair even though it's technically not correct on her schedule. Janessa should be going first but you don't question a bride thats near tears. You hop in and close your eyes, and combing or prodding is fine with you, as long as you don't have to be standing. 

By the time your hair is done other bridesmaids trickle in, and by the time everyone is done Gina finally is able to make an appearance and you all breathe a sigh of relief at Laura’s worry finally dissolved. You all look nice. Laura looks like a princess. You're not sure if you can get through this wedding without crying like a baby now that you see her all done up. Fuck. She ushers you all out as she stays behind, a smile that finally looks genuine plastered on her face, ready for her first looks with her new husband before the rest of the world gets to see her.

“Thank you,” she whispers one last time to you, and you squeeze her hand before you leave the bridal suite to go line up in preparation for the actual wedding itself.

“— You moron!” 

You catch the end of whatever Gut is whisper-shouting at Adrian in the lobby, handsome in his suit and anxiety painted on his face and seeping from his gritted and bared teeth. 

You walk the rest of the way over after getting down the rest of the stairs, skirt of your dress fluttering as you move, and put your hand on Gut’s arm not unlike the way he did to you last night.

“Hey, whatever's going on, I got it,” you tell him, not looking Adrian’s way still in fear of your own emotional state. You aren't sure why you offered to help at all, but there's no backing out now.

“He wants to switch partners to walk with you, which is stupid and not part of the plan,” Gut explains. What the fuck. Actually what the fuck.

You shake your head, and you bury the pit in your stomach. Your emotions aren't the most important ones today and others are at stake. Fuck it, you’ll take one for the team and maybe cry in the bathroom later and blame it on the alcohol, as long as it doesn't stop you from the cotton eyed joe at the reception.

“Let us switch, your bride is upstairs waiting, we’ll handle shit down here,” you tell him, voice already exasperated, and that seems to light a fire under his ass. He moves to the staircase without another warning and salutes towards you and his little brother.

His little brother whom you still cannot look in the eye.

The rest of the bridal party starts to get themselves together at the disappearance of the groom, and you sort yourself in order. Shoes are good, hair is good, dress is good, you are good to go; and once youre over this hiccup you can party with Laura and the other bridesmaids.

“Look, I’m sorry-” Adrian starts as you link your arm in his own. He looks so fucking good in the suit, so good you need him to shut up before the last of your dignity leaves you. 

“Don't even worry about it,” you say, still not looking at him, “We’re even, remember?”

Adrian seems to deflate at your words, but if you know Adrian you know that doesn't mean he’s given up.

“I’m just saying, you didn't deserve that. I should have stayed.”

You eye up Gina in front of you, her long hair cascading down her back, happily joking with the best man. Mike’s now behind you, with Laura’s work friend. Adrian’s arm feels like a cage around you. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumble, trying to focus on how it feels to be hungover in stilettos. Bad, but you can use that pain as a distraction. 

“See, you say that,” you're in for an Adrian rant, and you wish you could appreciate it, “But you won't look at me, and then your speech last night had me thinking, and then you didn't let me talk to you about it after you drank a lot of tequila with my brother and even though I drove you home you wouldnt let me make sure you drank your water.”

He looks at you with expectant eyes, asking you to crack.

He says it so easily, as if his mini rant doesnt throw a spear through the heart of your barely calm and cool persona. As if your blood doesn't run cold knowing Adrian was in the airbnb again, only to care for you and look out for your safety. Adrian is a good guy, and as your pinky toe pinches in the straps of the stiletto while you rock away from him, you regret never calling most of all. Your eyes search his face for an hint of a lie, but you can't find one. So you do what you can, you look away from him.

“I drank the water,” is all you can say, the tip of the iceberg of what you really mean. His free hand squeezes your elbow, an exchange.

The opening chords of the organist strike, and you recoil at the sound, sighing deeply as everyone readies themselves. 

Gina is all you want to focus on, her two braids tied into the curls the stylist sweat over in a half up-do that would rival what the wig makers on Game of Thrones could do. 

“But anyways, I’m trying to apologize.”

You can't even find a bobby pin sticking out on her whole head.

“I don't want an apology.”

You want to run away again. You want to fuck him in the bathroom of this venue. You want to fight him to the death. You want to stain his clean shaven cheek with your lipstick. 

 “Then what do you want? You're torturing me, and I would know, I’ve been tortured. This is like emotional though, not physical.”

Ignore whatever that means. 

“I want to know what you would have done if you didn't leave.”

Fuck, why did you say that? Quick, think about escape routes, find fire exits. Run for Mount Rainier, burn down the airbnb. Goodbye!

“Well, not fucking leave,” he starts, lowering his voice to a whisper when the doors open to reveal all of the guests.

You just tilt your head, yeah, figures. 

“You like everything bagels with chive and onion cream cheese, and I would have gotten you one. They make your breath smell like shit but I would have kissed you anyway just to prove a point.”

That's basically a confession of love right there. 

You and Adrian walk down the aisle, a smile tugging at your lips, but you refuse to let it stick. The venue is beautiful, sage green and pink everywhere, a flower arch out of some perfume commercial and trendy reclaimed wood galore.

“Can we just talk?” he asks, his voice rising and you immediately try to shush him as discreetly as you can. 

“Save a dance for me at the reception,” you whisper to him, preparing yourself to take your place in the line up at the altar.

“But I wanted to talk-”

You shush him again, a little harsher than you mean to, but he seems to get the idea.

“Oh! duh— I didn't bring a date! I don’t have a dance partner to begin with,” he answers, and the smile you’ve been trying to hide breaks through. You squeeze his arm as you leave his embrace and go to stand on your side.

You look out at the crowd, a lot of them unfamiliar faces. A few friends from Laura’s major and their partners, a few cousins and kids you met when you went to her summer house, a few of Gut’s friends on the other side (save for Chris Smith, thank fucking god, you would absolutely not be surviving this if you had to hear him say anything about your tits) and Gut’s cousins from Northern California. You stop for a moment on two empty chairs, for Gut and Adrian’s parents. Suddenly you're sixteen again, watching Adrian push you away for the comfort of shooting ranges instead of talking about his own parents' deaths as a result of a car chase gone wrong. Your eye’s flicker to Adrian, his eyes already set straight on you, his smile not matching how his eyes scan you. Gut enters and practically power walks down the aisle, and you mote that theres already a noticeable amount of lipstick on the corner of his lips. 

The music changes. 

The most beautiful woman you've ever seen walks down the aisle.

You can feel Adrian’s eyes on you the entire ceremony.

Adrian doesn't leave your side the entire cocktail hour, following you around and asking about all of your drink and snack preferences. 

“I like pomegranate martinis, you know, a little Hades and Persephone thing going on?” You joke, and he orders you one from the drink station without a second glance.

“You mean like Hercules, the Disney movie?” he asks when he hands you your glass, hand steady and careful not to spill it.

You could scoff, or make a joke, or correct him, but instead you just smile and say, “Yeah, Adrian!” just to see his smile get even wider. 

“Thats a really good movie, even if its for kids,” he muses.

“So what does Adrian Chase drink?”

He pauses and thinks it over for a minute. 

“Yeungling,” he says, but he doesn't try to hide his grimace at the answer, his teeth bared and his eyes averted.

“So thats a lie,” you point out immediately over the rim of your glass. Adrian’s eyes dart over to where Laura and his brother are talking to some distant relative, definitely from Laura’s side. They're both the happiest you've ever seen them and you can’t help but to thank whatever cosmic power led them to meet. 

“Yeah, Gut says a bay breeze is chick stuff,” Adrian admits, and you figured this was the case. He was always pulling you down candy aisles or getting the really sweet stuff as far as slurpee flavors went. 

“Get the fucking bay breeze,” you tell him, and his whole face lights up. When was the last time this man got himself a girlie tropical drink?

“Okay! I mean, I've gotta hide it, but if you won’t judge me then I’ll do it,” he turns away from you, already ready to get the bartender’s attention again to order.

Theres a million things you want to say and all you can come up with is talking about his drinking habits? You only know where the guy works because you asked one of his cousins why the rehearsal dinner was at Fennell Fields and she told you he basically was allowed to book the back room for free because he worked there. You have so many things to ask him, so many things to say, and you ask him about a fucking drink. 

“You were right, this is way better. You said we could talk now?” he asks, not hiding his eagerness as he talks with the bendy straw still between his teeth. 

You exhale harshly, pushing the air through your nose, nodding. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, not wanting to correct him that the cocktail hour technically isnt the reception. Thats an easy mistake to make, its close enough.

He nods his head towards the back doors, leading out to the gardens that a few people are at, but its much less crowded than the venue proper. At least hes giving you that safety net. 

Each step feels heavier, and you once again curse the fact that Laura is a stilettos girl and made you be the same for a weekend. But the garden is beautiful, it looks like a small town in Washington’s version of the Versailles gardens, which you've never seen outside of Google images so it doesn't matter to miss out on the real thing.

He leads you to a bench, and pats it as he sits down on one end. You sweep the flow skirt under you and sit too, thankful to be off your feet after the past few hours.

"You can take those off if you want," he points his glass at your heels, "We can swap? They don't look comfy."

"We can't swap," you chuckle, but you unbuckle the heels and stretch your feet on the pavement.

“Well, we should talk,” he says, as if prompting you. The whole situation feels like there’s some kind of teleprompter you should be able to read, some magical thing to say, but there’s not. You don’t have words, just feelings. The anxiety, the joy, the ecstasy, the profound sadness and emptiness of the whole thing. There’s no way to put it into words. You don’t know how to word that you’ve forgotten him for maybe only ten of the months you’ve been away. Often wondering with other dates if Adrian was nicer than them, if he was dating. Wondering if Adrian was having a good life, if Adrian made friends. Seldom you forgot about him. And none of it you can voice without sounding worse than you already are.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down into your martini, the last few sips staring back at you. 

“You’ve said that already. Can I talk?” he asks. You nod, still not meeting his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “Like I said before, you didn't deserve that.”

“I kinda did,” you offer, shrugging.

“Will you stop?” he asks, his eyes widening behind his glasses. You only grimace and nod for him to continue. 

“Sorry, anyway, you didn't deserve that. I know you had to have a good reason for leaving without saying anything. And I have to admit, I have kept tabs on you. Not in a creepy way,” he pauses, “Maybe in a creepy way, but not in an illegal way. When the library put up the article about your job in Gotham I took it because that's not real stealing, everything is free in the library.”

That's not how libraries work. You remember that article, you were put on a 30 under 30 article for art and design in Gotham; you just didn't know the article made its way back to Evergreen. It's sweet that he stole the article, even though he could have just bought a copy of the magazine. 

You nod at him, needing him to continue. 

“And then when I saw you it all just kinda, came up, you know?”

You do know. Its that same vacuum that sucked air from your lungs and slowed the time down in that fucking Hooters that now feels so much more meaningful and cosmic instead of being what it is. God, what a place for a reunion. 

“Yeah, I know,” you say, your voice just above a whisper. 

“I didn’t want to be mean, but I felt like I had to, I don’t know why.”

But you know why, you know exactly why.

“No it’s fine, I would have done the same,” you say, the knuckle of your free hand brushing the soft material of his suit pants.

“Yeah. I know,” he laughs, his smile overtaking all of his features. This feels normal, finally. You’re on the same wavelength. 

“And I have to admit, I was a little jealous of Laura for taking my best friend position once I heard about you guys in college.”

You roll your eyes, letting yourself lean into him, his shoulder warm under his shirt. His arms look fucking good, with the crisp white 

“Where’d your suit jacket go?” you ask, lowering your head to rest it against him. 

“Gut’s gonna kill me,” he answers, and you can pretty much assume he’s lost it. 

Laughter escapes your lips, loud and almost cackling, and you sit back up so as to not spill your drink as the laughter keeps coming. Adrian joins in, his eyes closed behind those glasses that haven't changed in the past fifteen years, laughter boisterous and light. 

“Can we start over?” you interrupt your own laughter, setting your glass down on the ground next to the bench. 

Adrian’s laughter subsides, and he goes quiet. He thinks about it for a second. 

“Hmm, no,” he answers. Your hands fall limp in your lap, the skirt of your dress making a light swooshing noise at the contact. He could have punched you just now and it would have been less of a surprise to you. 

“Oh,” you sigh, trying and failing to play it cool. Your shoulders feel heavy. 

“I can’t start over with someone who’s seen my penis… or wore my retainer when she lost hers. Which was really gross,” he laughs, this time a subdued chuckle with a hint of nostalgia, and his eyes travel up and down your body again. You shiver under his gaze. 

“Yeah, that was nasty,” you admit, but your teeth are straight no matter what. 

You both go quiet, staring out at the treeline behind the venue. A cosmic reset. His hand scoots closer to you on the seat of the bench. The wind whistles and Party Rock Anthem is muffled and obscured by the glass doors leading back into the cocktail hour. 

“So your brother and my college roommate, huh?” you break the stillness.

“Yeah, it's uh,” he looks down at his watch, “almost the end of cocktail hour. We get to walk in together, right?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “You made sure of that with the stunt you pulled this morning.”

If he's at all embarrassed, he doesn't show it.

You stand up, rolling your eyes. 

“C’mon,” you say, holding your hand out to him. 

A cosmic restart.

“And here is your wedding party!” the DJ announces over the microphone. The first couple dances out from under the sting light arch, offbeat and singing along. Then the second. After the third it's you and Adrian, and you can feel him starting to get antsy. 

“We’ll be fine,” you reassure him, brushing your knuckles against his. 

“Don’t hate me for this,” he whisper-shouts over the music. 

You don't have time to even think about what that means because the couple in front of you dances out, but now you're anxious and rigid in your heels. You step into the spotlight, and your cue comes.

But Adrian has other plans, apparently, as he bends down to let his big strong arms (wow are you happy he grew these in your absence) circle your thighs and he hoists you over his shoulder. 

You wave awkwardly at all the guests sat for dinner, cackling and slapping Adrian’s back to the beat of the music, Adrians laugh filling your space as he awkwardly dance- walks you across the dance floor to where the other wedding party members are standing and talking, waiting for dinner and the reception to officially begin. You feel giddy, like a late night drive in the summer after Adrian got his license, like when you walked into prom holding Adrian’s hand like you’d just won the lottery. His hands are warm, incredibly so, and his muscles are taut against you.

Fuck, you’d like to feel his muscles against you in - nope, hold that thought. You want to repair whatever this is with Adrian, not be a slut at your friend’s wedding. 

When you finally reach your spot, he holds you there for a few moments, his big hands squeezing the backs of your thighs before he puts you down gently. You miss the feeling of his hands on you. 

Dinner and more speeches go off wonderfully, and you're thankful you get to stay quiet this time, few eyes on you throughout all of the formal stuff, except for Laura. Sure, her main focus are the speakers and her new husband, but you've caught more than one sneaky glance your way, and you know exactly what that means. Before they leave for their honeymoon in Cabo, she's going to corner you and ask if you and her new brother-in-law are doing anything. And knowing her, she’ll already know the answer.

Adrian nudges you when the plates are cleared by the caterers during the first dance, drawing your eyes away from the happy couple dancing to him, apprehension apparent on his face. You realize that you really haven't spoken to him since he put you down.

“Do you want to… maybe, go out there when they’re done being a lovely couple?” he asks. 

“I mean, yeah. I told you to save me a dance,” you respond, and Adrian’s shoulders visibly sag in relief like a weight has just been taken off of them. 

And you're lucky enough that your anxiousness is spared that the next two songs and the family dances go by as quickly as they can, and the dancefloor opens for everyone with Vienna by Billy Joel. You look over to Adrian, winking as you rise from your seat, your hand reaching out to lead him away from the table. 

He, to your surprise, grabs your hand firmly and lets you lead him out, and you become one of the first couples out on the dance floor. People trickle in after, but they're all peripheral noise and shapes as Adrian’s hands find purchase on your hips.

“I’m glad you're here without a date,” Adrian admits, without a hint of shame in his voice. 

“I’m glad you're here without a date too, or else this whole weekend would have been a lot more complicated than it already has been,” you offer honestly, and lean into his swaying. Your fingers play with the curls at the base of his neck absentmindedly.  

“It wasn't that complicated,” he says, “We’re just bad at feelings.”

Understatement of the century, you think, but yeah, that checks out. You'd both had hurt feelings and both been weird about it. He hums along as he pulls you closer, your chests almost touching, the heat tangible between you. It's going to be hard to keep your cool around Adrian all night without wanting to be even closer, without wanting to kiss him. Maybe you can kiss him afterward. 

“Did you become a Billy Joel fan while I was gone?” you joke, knowing that his taste was a lot more girl pop or harder rock when you last saw him.

“Billy Joel? I thought this was Bruno Mars!”

You want to ask him if he's joking but you already know the answer to that. 

“Yeah, I mean they're easy to mix up,” you say, and he nods. 

“I really missed you, Adrian,” you finally admit, “I wish I-”

“I wish that you would just let it go, troll under the bridge. Lets have fun before you have to leave again,” he interrupts.

“Well actually,” you readjust your arms, more of a hug than a dance now, “I’m here until next Monday, and I want to give you my number so we can keep in touch. Laura lives here now so…”

“So you have a reason to come out here?” he asks, hopeful. 

“You’re a reason to come out here too, if you want to be,” you assure him, and his fingers dig into your hips, the material of the skirt bunching under his palms. 

“Really? I do, I want to be-”

Fuck it, you think. Be a slut, do what you want. 

You pull Adrian into a kiss, cutting him off mid sentence. He hums, the death of a word coming to die from his lips to yours, and his form melts around yours, his grasp on you growing firmer pressing you against him 

“I knew it!” you hear Laura scream, “I fucking knew it!”

But you don't dare pull away from Adrian to laugh with the bride. He keeps swaying, off tempo to the song, but perfect for you. His lips curl up into a smile and his own laughter breaks the kiss, though. 

“Do you want to go have sex again?” he asks bluntly, slightly breathless from his own laughter. 

Unlike the other night, you're pushing him down onto the mattress tonight, Adrian eagerly shuffling further up onto the bed as you hike up your skirt to climb on top of him. You stop when you're over his hips, letting the skirt pool around him, your flimsy underwear leaving you feeling bare and hot against Adrian’s pants. 

You pull him up by his tie, your mouths meeting in the space between you for another sloppy kiss, open-mouthed and wet.  You both fall back into the sheets, kissing as your hands move to the knot of the tie. You fiddle with the knot, pulling it one way, then the other, trying to loosen it without breaking the kiss to look at it. 

Cmon, cmon.

You feel it tighten against his collar instead of loosen. You have to pull away. 

Adrian’s lips chase yours, not opening his eyes until he hears you speak.

“Get rid of the tie, I can't do it!” you demand, your hands instead starting to work at buttons lower down on his chest. He laughs, but his hands leave your body to pull the tie loose, and he does it easily. He slips the stupid thing off of his neck and flings it into the dimness of the room. You're free to unbutton all of his shirt now, pulling at where it's tucked into his pants to get it off of him. 

Fuck, he’s beautiful, you think, as you finally get to take in his bare chest. He's got muscle, he's buff, with the lightest dusting of hair between his pectorals and light freckles that you remember.

You pull him back up to sit so he can remove his shirt and you find that to be the wrong move. As he sits up, his hips shift against your core, and you struggle to bite back a needy moan. 

“Am I bothering you?” he asks.

“Nope,” you shake your head, biting down on your lip at the friction. 

“No? Then you wouldn't mind if I…” he trails off, tilting his hips up into yours again. This time, you feel him rock hard against you, and you whine desperately. Fucking bastard. Adrian chuckles, and you decide to get your revenge.

You push him back down on the mattress the moment the offending shirt is shed, latching your lips onto the expanse of his neck, kissing a wet trail in your wake as he gasps and grunts below you.

“I was so mean to you,” he gasps as you bite at his collarbone, “Do you want to punish me for that?”

Who the fuck is Adrian fucking? Is the first thought through your head. Punish him? What kind of kinky shit does he get up to?

“Don’t wanna punish you,” you dismiss, “Just wanna have you.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, his lips dragging against your hairline as he pulls you lower on top of him until your chests meet, “Still on the table, though.”

You'll keep that in mind.

“Get this dress off,” he groans, equally struggling with the zipper until he finally just rips the hook and eye at the top of it, the zip sliding down your back easily for him after that. You’re definitely going to have to get that repaired, but that’s the last thing on your mind when Adrian is pulling the material off of you half crazed, trying to have you bare against him as soon as he can. He pulls the dress up over your head, maybe not the easiest way to discard it, your arms struggling to untangle from the straps as he unwraps you. You help him push all of the bunched up material across your chest and over you, finally breathing a sigh of relief when the bodice finally comes off of you and you can both drop the dress off the edge of the bed, and his hands immediately working their way to your chest.

His thumb brushes against the faded mark on your breast that he left the other night, sending a shiver down your spine. You're sure he's about to leave even more.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he moans, squeezing at you while his eyes take you in. You’re glad now that you opted for the ‘sexier’ of the no-show underwear you picked out under the dress. 

“Thought you said women don’t like being called hot,” you joke, recalling his previous words.

“Right, pretty,” he corrects himself, and you have to shake your head. 

“I’m fucking with you,” you laugh. 

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he retorts, and quickly flips you over, pinning you underneath him. 

“So so pretty like this,” he whispers, his hands trailing down your body, stoking the fires of your arousal.

You’ll keep that in mind, too. 

You grab at the sheets, balling the cotton in your fists as Adrian’s hands finally make their way between your thighs. He presses his fingers to your clothed cunt, and you both sigh at the contact. 

“Please touch me,” you beg, all the boldness gone from your tone now that he’s got you like this. 

“I’ll do you one better!” he says, and moves himself down the bed, removing his hand only so he can remove your panties. 

“Can I taste you?” he asks, repositioning you for his own easy access. You nod, tilting your hips up towards him. He puts your legs on his shoulders, and slowly creeps in. 

His hot breath fans out over your cunt, his glasses fogging as he looks up at you, the way his cheeks and nose scrunch lets you know that he’s grinning like a maniac. 

Without warning, he darts his tongue out, licking between your folds and only stopping when the tip of his tongue meets your clit. 

You whine, needy and unexpected, and try to quiet yourself again. You feel him as he exhales through his nose, maybe laughing at your desperation, and moves his tongue; small, deliberate licks against your clit that have you hitching your breath with each one.

“Please,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping the sheets so tight you could rip them. Adrian dives in like a man starved, his tongue dipping into you and the tip of his nose bumping against your clit. He licks into you like your cunt is what keeps him alive, like the water of life. You moan, languid and loud; his big hands flatten out, one against your stomach and the other along the underside of your breast.

Where the fuck did Adrian Chase learn this? Maybe you don't want to know, maybe you just want to enjoy the skills for what they are. His lips move in tandem with his tongue, not hiding the slurping sounds his mouth makes; fuck, he worships you.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, at first a slow bubble, and then a sudden boil. Your moans turn almost to screams as you shake under him, your thighs tightening around his head.

Adrian’s having none of that, though. He removes his hands from you, moving them to your thighs to hold them in place. Without the leverage of your legs, your back arches almost painfully, leaning into your orgasm as it shakes your entire system, Adrian just happily working you through it, gradually slowing down his mouths movements as your breathing becomes more and more regulated.

“Good?” he asks, when he finally moves his mouth away from you. Everything from his nose to his chin is soaked in you. 

“Y-yeah,” you pant, still catching yourself.

“Good, then you’re ready for me,” he says, smirking as he untangles from your thighs and moves back up. He kisses your cheek, decidedly not letting you taste yourself at this moment. Somehow, in your haze, you hadn't noticed that he’d gotten rid of his pants. 

You already feel him, heavy and hard, resting against your entrance, and immediately you need more no matter how sensitive you might be.

“I’ve been ready,” you tell him, and he chuckles.

“Not for this,” and he pushes in to the hilt. He gives you no mercy, like he said he wouldn't. He gives you no time to adjust to his size. You yelp, both in surprise and in pleasure, and he picks up his pace as if your noise was permission.

“Fuck, prettiest girl I’ve ever known, all laid out for me, all for me,” he babbles, his lips just barely brushing yours as he stays close. 

“All for you,” your voice comes out in a moan, all control of your volume and tone lost; the fire already building in you again.

“Gonna give you everything, all for you,” he says, like a promise, his own voice strained. 

He doesn't hold back in his pace, pushing in all the way each time, deep and hard, a slamming pace. He's not gentle, but the way that he looks at you is full of all of the affection and sweetness he holds for you. This is your best friend. This is… whatever he is beyond that. 

“Adrian, kiss me,” you beg, wanting to seal yourself to him, to connect. 

“But I might taste-”

“I don’t care.”

That's all he has to hear, and once the kisses start, they don't stop.  He moves a little awkwardly at first, his pace faltering slightly to adjust for this connection, but he finds his rhythm again. He thrusts sharply, your hips moving to meet him as best you can, your bodies moving in sync with your pleasure. He quickens his pace, his kisses getting harsher, more bruising. Adrian is a kisser, you realize. He likes it like this. 

“I’m gonna—,” he gasps after his harshest thrust yet, and you grab his hips, holding him close. 

“Go ahead,” you say, breathless yourself and ready to lose your own composure. 

He pumps into you harder, his hips snapping against you sure to bruise. Adrian’s hand leaves your hip to move his thumb to your clit, rubbing quick circles that choke out sobs from your throat. It's hard to hold on, both physically to his hips but also to your composure. Every thought of him, him, him, and the fire inside of you that fights to escape. 

“Adrian, please,” you beg, voice watery and desperate, and he obeys, speeding up his movements until you scream, and shake, and lose everything. Your mind whites-out. No thoughts but the specific shade of green of his eyes. 

And when you come back you feel full, sticky and hot. Adrian holds you tightly, still inside you, snuggling you close and cradling your body to him. He's shushing you and pressing kisses into your skin, muttering sweet nothings to soothe you. Fuck, thats never happened before. 

“That was good?” you ask, breathless laughter in your tone. 

“Now I know you have to be joking with me,” he says, pulling back slightly, “That was mind-blowing! Literally.”

He pulls away more, and you reach out to reel him back into your embrace. Adrian reassures you he’ll be right back. Even after all of this, the tiniest doubt creeps in, and when he backs out of the room, boxers in hand, you pull the sheets up over you tightly. 

He comes back into the room with two glasses of water in only his boxers, a sight you want to get used to. He places the glasses down on the nightstand and throws the covers over the both of you, enveloping you in their warmth and his. Adrian runs like a furnace.

“Can you stay this time?” Your voice is small, vulnerable. Adrian’s warm hand cups your cheek, and he shimmies closer to you under the covers. 

“How much does a flight to Gotham cost?” he asks, deadly serious. 

You balk at his question.

“Adrian, you can't uproot your life for me,” you insist, feeling bad suddenly about the way you continue to cling to him, hands pressed into his back to hold him to you. 

“Psh, who said that? I figure maybe Evergreen can survive without me for a week or so. I wanna take you on a real date,” he snuggles closer, curling the blankets further over you. Your own little world, a little bubble just for the two of you. 

You’ll remind him that Gotham is currently surviving a week without you, too, in the morning. 

“I’d like that,” you say, sleep sinking into the edges of your voice. 

“Get some rest,” he says, sounding just as sleepy, his head feeling heavier against you, “I’ll be here in the morning.”

He is. 

#adrian chase x reader

[tashacee]

Hello! Asking the question here because you told me to LOL

I was wondering, if a stranger than normal portal took one set of Links to the world of another set of Links, and maybe mixed them up, how long do you think it would take to figure out something was up? What do you think the different reactions of Apect AU seeing Mask AU? Especially since we know that Aspect Links now have experience with thinking someone was an evil double but turned out to not be?

SO I love this so much and i am SO happy you sent it here THANK YOU Okay so this was going to be a standalone but now I've decided it's a sequel to Aspects of a Mask

Aspects of a Mask 2 - Twilight Boogaloo

The two chains, unbeknownst to each other, come through their portals into the same woods. And unbeknownst to each other, they set up camp only a few hundred feet from one another.

It's the middle of the night when, unbeknownst to each other, the Twilight's of both Chains realise they really need to pee. So they both wave to their respective Warriors', who are on watch, and tootle off to take a whiz. And unbeknownst to each other, they both get a little turned around in the darkness, the result of which is that they both end up returning to the wrong campsite.

Neither notices and they both settle back into their bedrolls, wriggling a little and each thinking vaguely that it feels slightly... different.

Whatever. Probably just tired.

The next morning, neither notices immediately. The Mask!Chain think that Twi must still be tired and that's why he's not speaking as he shaves. The Aspects!Chain also notice nothing at first, because the Twilight they've ended up with may be able to speak, but he actually is really tired and is very slow getting up.

Predicatably, the thing that gives them each away is Wild. Wild is the outlier in each Chain, the thing that makes them really different at first glance.

For the Mask Chain, Bean creeps up to where Twi is tiredly pulling a comb through his hair. He needs a favour, and he trusts Twilight more than he trusts anyone.

"Twi?" he says quietly. "Can you help with my ba-"

That's as far as he got. Because Twilight jumped a mile in the air and turned around in shock, eyes wide as he took in the mask. Because he knows this Wild, he met him during that weird week where he joined his chain. But... as far as he knows there hasn't been any weird portals recently.

Well. Weirder than usual.

Mask!Wild also stares at Twi, eyes flicking to his neck in recognition.

"...you." he breathes. "But- how-"

Twi shook his head, looking around in shock. As he looked, he realised more was different than he had realised. Nearby, Hyrule was chatting quietly with Legend and across the camp, Sky was reading a book.

He wasn't in Ordon anymore.

In the Aspects camp, something similar happened to Mask!Twi but.... perhaps less.... calmly.

Because Aspects Wild also had a request for his good good buddy Twi, but was less nervous about asking for it. Instead he saw how Twi was still lazing in his bedroll and decided that the best course of action was to jump in beside him. Because of course.

From Twi's point of view, he was relaxing and having a lazy morning, when all of a sudden something very large and very fluffy was pouncing on top of him.

Twilight shrieked. And of course, not expecting any kind of sound from the rancher, Wild also shrieked.

"ORDONA'S YELLOW POLKA DOT BIKINI WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKING FUCK?!" Twilight screeched

Wild stared at him. And then he yowled. Around him, all of his Chain drew their swords and leapt to their feet, ready to fight this bizarre imposter.

"Aw, Faron's tits, I'm out!" Twi hissed and did the only sensible thing he could think of - he got up and fled.

He didn't get far. Because over in the MUCH calmer Mask!Camp, Bean and Aspects!Twi had explained what was going on (as well as they could understand it) and were coming through the woods in search of their counterparts.

And so in his desperate flight, chased by Aspects!Wild and the rest of the Chain, Twilight ran straight into... himself. And immediately stumbled and fell onto the ground. He looked up. Saw the him-but-not-him.

"Balls." he whispered, staring up at him.

Thankfully, the misunderstanding didn't take too long to clear up after that. When the Bean and Aspects!Wild saw each other they immediately ran into a hug, and the Aspects Chain were all delighted to see Mask!Wild again.

Bean was more than a little flustered introducing his Chain to them all, and they were all more than a little astounded to meet their counterparts, the two Twilights especially. They weren't sure why they had been brought together, not at first.

That only became evident when they all joined together in one camp, both Wilds cooking, both Skys strumming their harps, all of them happily relaxing and getting to know one another.

Because they hadn't been brought together for a battle or for training. They'd been brought together, purely and simply, because they had all been through a lot. And they all deserved a break. And awkward meeting aside, a break was what they were going to get.

#it me #replies #hero’s aspect au #hero's aspect #mask!wild #finding family #my writing

[flowersandbigteeth]

Can you PLEEEEASE do more with the Hesian rancher he's my absolute favorite. I just want an update with him slowly more and more considering the human as a sentient being (maybe finds drawings or the human trying to teach herself how to speak galactic standard) but still loves her unconditionally and listens to her while still conditioning her to be his mate. This man makes me too hot and bothered for my own good 🥵

I had a bit of fluff written about them along those lines before I got sick, so here ya go ^_^ this is just a sfw thing

Hesian Alien (Kostas) x female reader

Word Count: 1k

🌶️ NSFW MASTERPOST 🌶️ (the first part of this story is nsfw, fyi)

W: petification, brief non-serious mention of suicide

“SOMEONE END ME. PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY.” you wrote in the dirt with a stick you’d found. 

“Are you drawing, (Y/N)?” Kostas asked, as he breezed past you holding a big fluffy sheep thing, “that’s very detailed and pretty.” 

You glared at him and snarled. 

“I hate this and I hate you!” you stomped your feet and kicked over a pile of some kind of purple hay. 

The rancher didn’t even look over his shoulder. This wasn’t the first or last tantrum you’d had since he’d dragged you along behind him on a leash while he tended to his fluff balls. You had regained your stamina after he’d fed you and had been relatively docile until it got hot outside. 

Now you were sweating, the sun was beating down and it was obvious he wasn’t even halfway through whatever it was he was doing to the docile little creatures. One of them wandered over to you and poked at you with its trunk. You tried to growl at it, but it just gave you an empty look with dopey eyes and you felt bad. 

You flopped on your back on the ground, tugging on your leash, which Kostas had tied to a fence post. 

“Aaaaaaaaaggggghhhh!” you screamed. 

A shadow passed over you and you went still in the sudden coolness, smiling a little. 

“You’re going to have to learn to express yourself more appropriately, (Y/N),” Kostas’ deep voice rumbled. 

He reached down and brushed the sweat off of your forehead.

“If you are hot, you have to tell me so I can help you,” he said, “kicking things doesn’t let me know what is wrong.” 

Your eyes got huge and there was a moment before you lost your shit. 

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO DO THIS ENTIRE TIME YOU BIG DUMB STRAWBERRY HIMBO!?” you screamed, jumping up and waving your hands. 

Kostas chuckled at you and walked over to a cooler to get you a weird gel cube of water before handing it to you. 

“You’re so cute,” he said, patting your head as he watched you rub the blessedly cool thing all over your cheeks and chest, “you’re supposed to eat it.” 

You bared your teeth at him and he pulled another one from the cooler and bit off the corner, before snatching you up in his big hand and squirting some in your mouth. 

“MPHH!” you gulped as you swallowed and glared at him. 

“You’re going to learn some Galactic Standard words today,” he informed you, watching you drink the rest of the cube in his hand, “I know you’re not stupid, despite what the Ozil would have us believe.”

He smiled at you. 

“I wanna see how clever you really are.” 

Your eyebrows went up at his first acknowledgement that you might actually be sentient. He narrowed his eyes on you and pulled your hand to his lips. Your cheeks flushed immediately. 

“Focus here,” he said, his intense gold and green eyes forcing yours to his mouth. 

You caught a flash of fang as he spoke and your heart fluttered. He nodded up. 

“See the sun? That’s hot. HOT.” 

Since the translator installed in your body did a lot of the comprehension work for you, you had to focus on the way his lips moved to actually figure out the word he was saying and then try to replicate it. 

“Hot,” you finally managed after a few mangled attempts. 

He grinned and pointed to the cooler. 

“The water in the cooler is COLD. Can you say that? COLD.” 

You took your time, this time feeling his lips move as he repeated the word for you. 

“Cold,” you managed. 

“So how do you feel?” he asked, testing if you really understood him. 

“Hot,” you said and he beamed. 

“What do you want?” he asked. 

“Cold,” you said. 

“That’s amazing (Y/N)!” he cheered for you, spinning around and tossing you in the air, before catching you again, making you shriek, “I knew you were clever!” 

You would have been indignant, because of course you were, if he hadn’t of proceeded to shower you with a flurry of kisses on your cheeks and the corners of your mouth. 

He looked at you for a second. 

“I bet you could read too, if I taught you,” he said thoughtfully, and glanced back at the cooler. 

“See that word on the front? I’ll show you letters later, but for now you can learn what words look like. That means cooler.” 

You nodded sagely. Your intelligence being acknowledged went a long way in improving your mood. Somehow you felt like you’d gained a victory and the rest of your afternoon was much more entertaining as you spent it pointing at various things and making Kostas give you the word for them. By dinner you were working with a small vocabulary of basic nouns. 

“Do you want to try and say my name, (Y/N)?” he asked as the sun set and he led you back to his house, your work done for the day, “it’s Kostas. Kos-tas.”

You beamed up at him with mischief. 

“HIM-BO” you pronounced carefully in English. 

He frowned at you as this was the first time you’d done something incorrect all day. 

“No, Kost-as,” he tried again, pulling your hand to his mouth, “K-K-kossstaaasss”

“Hiiiimbo,” you said giggling. 

He twisted his lip and stared at you for a moment before it dawned on him you were teasing him somehow. He gave you a smirk and narrowed his eyes at you. “I think you are a lot smarter than they said you were,” he murmured, tossing you over his shoulder and smacking your bottom, making you squeal.

#alien fluff #sfw fluff #monster fluff #exophelia #monster x reader #alien x reader #x reader

[captainmalewriter]

Hey I would like to claim the white with orange ring capsule if it is still available? Like to see what is inside.

Congratulations, you found my missing white with an orange ring capsule! Here's what happened when you found it...

You opened the door to your brother’s estate and stepped inside. Your brother and his wife were away on vacation for the week. Your brother had asked you to house-sit while they were away. Thankfully, you didn’t have to actually stay in the house all week long. All you had to do was swing by his place once a day to feed the cats, clean their litter boxes, and water the plants. Once that was done, you were free to continue going about your usual routine.

You finished your housekeeping duties for the last time. The week had gone by in a flash. Your brother was supposed to come back tomorrow. Although you were glad you didn’t have to house sit anymore, you couldn’t help but feel wistful. You weren’t sure exactly why you felt that way, but you did. 

You decided to take a look around your brother’s house before you left for the day. It had been a long time since you last visited him, and as a result, you couldn’t help but notice all the changes he made around the house. New wall decorations, new paint job in the bathroom, and a bunch of minor changes here and there. But while most of the changes were pretty ordinary, there was one particular change that caught your attention the most. 

You found it while looking around the garage. You didn’t mean to snoop around, but while poking around, you found a stainless steel box full of strange things. You figured a tiny peek inside wouldn’t hurt and took a look inside. You found a bunch of miscellaneous items that didn’t seem to have any correlation to one other. Most of them you couldn’t name! But there was one thing you could name: a toy capsule. It was white with an orange ring on it. You couldn’t help but take it out of the chest. You weren’t sure why your brother or your brother’s wife would keep a toy inside a box full of strange, witchcraft looking things. It was truly a mystery.

The more you thought about it, the more curious you grew about what was inside the capsule. Then, curiosity piqued, you decided to open it and see what was inside. You twisted the orange ring and opened the capsule. Inside there was a tiny metal rod! It was probably no larger than your pinkie finger. However, when you took it out, it immediately expanded until it was a foot long in length. On top of that, there was now an orange light shining at the tip of the rod! 

You were amazed at what you found. As you moved the rod around, the orange light shimmered and sparkled in the air. It was truly a magical sight that reminded you of magic wands. During that moment of excitement, you swirled the wand around pretending it was a real wand. You traced a circle in the air with the orange light with a swoosh. And as soon as you completed the circle, it happened…

You felt several cold shivers run up and down your body. You began to shake violently. Your body shook and shook until suddenly you felt as light as a feather. You felt yourself falling forward, and your skin also turned a translucent orange that matched the wand. It was an otherworldly feeling unlike any other, but before you could even get used to it, you were suddenly launched towards the east. You flew until you landed at your destination: your brother’s neighbor’s body.

“Hrm…… Ohh fuck…!” 

The man stood there, tending to his horse as he felt a sudden presence inside of his body. The foreign presence made his body sensitive, causing him to moan obscenely loud. That presence was you of course, taking over his body for yourself. You could feel as your life essence adjusted to its new vessel. The man was a rancher with a beefy body. You could feel how hairy your new body wasYour thick paws for hands ran through the hair on your body as you finished adjusting. You had officially become the rancher. 

You stood there slightly disoriented inside your new body. You felt the vertigo fading away, but then the body shivers came back again. Except this time, it wasn’t your life essence getting detached from your body. Rather, it was the rancher’s soul getting detached from your new body. You could see the soul standing right in front of you for a brief second before it was launched west— the same direction you came from.

“What the hell was that thing…” you said out loud with your new cowboy accent. You stood there wondering while you scratched your scruffy, thick beard. 

You then noticed there was an iron rod in your hand. There was an orange light glowing at the tip too. You closely examined the rod and found some small engravings on it. It said:

Wave this wand once, and you will swap with the closest same sex person…

Your souls will exchange vessels, but your mind will not transfer…

You will swap bodies, and therefore identities, so choose your vessel wisely…

You read it over and over again, but still had no idea what the fuck it was talking about. It sounded like some type of voodoo shit, something you wanted no part of. You worked hard to make a simple life with your husband, kids, and farm animals, and there was no way in hell you were about to let some stick take that away from you! You snapped the rod in half and tossed it in the same bin you shovel the horse shit into, sealing your fate forever. 

“Hey, I just put the kids to bed. What’s my wonderful hubby up to?” 

You turned your head and smiled as your husband walked up to you. He was a rancher with a bear bod just like you. He recently bought a new pair of blue jeans and a flannel shirt. They hugged his body just right, with the jeans in particular showing off just how hung your husband was with his large bulge. And the sight of it drove you crazy!

“Nothing babe, just throwin’ some trash I found in Missy’s stable,” you explained. 

Your husband smirked as he walked up right next to you. You grinned, then leaned in for a kiss. Your beards rubbed against each other as your lips interlocked with big, wet kisses. Your bodies grinded against each other as you both made out, moans and groans filled the air as you made out. His hand slithered down your back, then cupped your ass cheek with a loud smack. You meant to only give your husband a quick kiss, but it was clear y’all were about to do much more than that. Not that you minded it of course; after all, you were living the simple, family life out on a ranch with the man of your dreams, just like you always wanted.

Hope you enjoy the new body prize you won from finding my lost capsule!

#male body swap #male body switch #male body theft #magic tf #male takeover #cowboy tf #dad bod #toy capsule stories

[ask-the-nine-links]

Two questions.

First, what do the rest of you do when it's Time and Twilight (the normally responsible ones) who decide to cause trouble?

Second, Twilight seems to be one of the group therapists (Four takes over occasionally) and is the one I've seen give out the most hugs/cuddles. How would the rest of you react if one person hogged all of Twilight's (both in human and wolf form) attention, hugs, and cuddles for a whole month?

Wind: When the responsible ones revert to their gremlin stage the world begins to burn.

Wind: It's even worse when Sky decides that he wants no part of it, then we are REALLY fucked.

Legend: If someone tried to keep the Rancher's attention on them for a whole month, I wish that person luck. There's no way Twi would dedicate that much attention to a singular person.

Legend: He may be one of the more physically affectionate Links, but he still needs his alone time.

Wild: Hold up, pause.

Wind: Pausing, what's up?

Wild: Since when did Four become one of the Therapist Links?

Wind:

Legend: ...you just asked a good question for once, Cook.

Wild: Rude.

Wind: Maybe he's Twi's therapist? I mean, there's no way you can listen to all of our problems and not need one of your own.

Wild: That makes sense.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu wind #lu legend #lu wild #lu twilight #he's mentioned a lot so he gets his tag

[rrain-writes]

Rain's LU Febuwhump: Day 23

Presumed Dead: Wild

Warnings: Blood, injury, major character death, one swear

Time could have gone his whole life without hearing Wild scream like that. It was raw and painful, unexpected and scared. It was the kind of scream someone made when they were suddenly injured so badly it only meant one thing.

He turned to find the teen lying on the ground, rusty sword shoved through his chest. There was so much blood.

“Wild!” Hyrule sprinted over, his own sword falling from his fingers. The others quickly finished off the monsters they had been fighting with a new kind of fury.

Someone was shouting about how they couldn’t heal Wild with the sword still in him. Someone else was offering to pull it out, panic lacing their words. All Time could see was red, coating the face of yet another child.

Wild struggled, trying to push the panicked hands away from him, only aggravating his wound in the process.

Hyrule trembled as his hands hovered over his friend, breaths coming in panicked sobs.

Wild groaned, shoving Hyrule away again. “Stop.” He croaked. “Hurts.”

“I know, it hurts.” Sky said. “But you have to let us help.” He was very obviously trying to keep calm, but his shaking hands gave him away.

The chain stood, helpless, as Wild slowly stopped struggling. His eyes stared up into the endless blue sky, unfocussed and glazed. His chest stopped shaking with the effort it took to breathe. Someone may have screamed, but Time didn’t take much notice. All he could think was that it was yet another person he couldn’t save.

Twilight, who had been fighting the furthest away, came running over, breaking the silence. “What’s going on?” He asked, panting slightly.

“Pup.” Time said gently, trying to talk to him before he saw the body boy lying still on red stained grass. Too late.

“No.” Twilight said, realisation crossing his features. “Wild!” The rancher pushed the others aside, dropping to his knees and feeling for a pulse. “Hey, come on cub. It’s okay.”

“Twi.” Sky said gently, placing a hand on the others shoulder. His face was wet with silent tears. “Twilight stop.”

“No. No, no.” Twilight repeated to himself. “How long has it been?”

“…A couple minutes.” Warriors replied, after a moments hesitation.

Twilight pressed his hands to his eyes. “Good. Okay. It’s okay.”

No one knew what he was muttering about. Grief did strange things to people.

Suddenly, a glow appeared, hovering over Wild. The teal flames seemed to shock everyone but Twilight, the rancher gripping his protege’s hand tight. A spectral woman, a Zora, came into view, as graceful and elegant in death as she was in life.

“It was my pleasure.” She whispered. Then she was gone, drifting away on the wind.

A cough brought eight pairs of eyes back to the ground. Wild… sat up, rubbing his chest where a bloody hole had been moments before.

“Is everyone okay?” He asked timidly.

“No the fuck we aren’t.” Wind replied after a moment, eyes wide.

No one bothered to chide his use of language.

#fan fiction #linked universe #lu #wild #twilight #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #legend #hyrule #time #warriors #wind #lu wild #sky #four #febuwhumpday23 #blood #injury #major character death #major character injury #mipha #mipha's grace

[tubbytarchia]

I love to imagine how shocked and surprised the ranchers and Pearl would be when they both realize that the ranchers don’t fear Pearl and that Pearl isn’t ridiculing the ranchers for even a second

Like they’d be flabbergasted

“Wait your not scared of me??”

“Wait your not gonna make fun of us???”

Just imagine them standing together like that one Spider-Man point meme

Sorry this answer is about to go on a bit of a general ranchers/pearl thought spree but YEAH this, lmao. They have more in common than they'd think!! Alas fate was cruel and it feels like two ships that were so close to meeting but just barely missed each other in the night, sailing right past

Jimmy at least has Tango to not be alone in his ridicule but even with their heads put together they wouldn't have enough brain capacity to care about what others are saying about Pearl. And well, there WAS session 3 when Jimmy shooed Pearl away because of. powdered snow?????? And because she was holding a sculk sensor?? Honestly I don't think Jimmy even at that point cared much about her being labelled as crazy, or didn't perceive it as anything significant, because it never came up unless I'm mistaken? Not once did the ranchers mention that? Jimmy did still break my heart in that moment but I don't think he realized the gravity of what he was doing. I think he was leaning into that more jokingly than anything but also... maybe Scott's presence at that very moment influenced him (cough because flower husbands past cough)

Tango most certainly wouldn't care about what Scott was spreading about Pearl. Scott could come and tell it to his face and he'd be like "uhuh yup!" and then forget immediately because he's Tango (not because he's stupid, he just doesn't think about things he doesn't consider important in relation to him). And Jimmy I think might care more if he weren't in like a happy ranch marriage with Tango and stuff. They'd be aware but not know how deep others' perception of Pearl went, nor would they care unless Pearl wronged them in any significant way

Jimmy wasn't surprised by Pearl's kindness to them in getting the goat horns, probably mostly because he was racking his brain too hard over Minecraft mechanics and being too overjoyed when they did get said horns, but probably also because he expected it to be a one-off thing? But I'd like to think that when Pearl returned to apologize after making a fool of him by stealing Oreo (the horse) with Martyn, and Jimmy kept asking "Are you serious?" when Pearl offered to give the horse back for nothing in exchange this time, that that was when he was really taken aback. Pearl once again showed some form of kindness, even as she was being shunned by everyone (moreso now than in session 2) and as she started to lean into the label of "crazy" that she was given because what else was she to do, all alone? Even then she ran back to Jimmy to apologize and give the horse back. And Jimmy, sweet child, offers friendship at last. But then he got ahead of himself when Pearl asked for confirmation and he went "You know you'd be an even better friend if you gave my horn back too!" and Pearl had to admit she'd already given it to Martyn, after which they kind of just separated without saying much. Clearly Jimmy was disappointed but mm he didn't even proclaim that Pearl wasn't welcome anymore or anything... It was certainly implied through his silence but knowing Jimmy, he would have gotten defensive and made his stance clear, but he didn't, which was either because he didn't want to, because maybe he still wanted to entertain the idea of Pearl making it up to him, OR he was just that fucking sad. He just said "right" and left as Pearl laughed (also I refuse to believe there was malice there in her laugh. What else was she gonna do in response) Either way oh my god I hate it I'm so sad

Anyway so. Their interactions past session 2 were mostly unfortunate but to me it's just... SUCH CRUEL FATE because YOU'RE RIGHT ANON. I really think they could have made it work but because Pearl was in the position that she was in, she didn't consider the idea of ever allying with anyone seriously enough and when she would have, with the ranchers, she'd already felt like she missed her chance. I'd like to imagine her laugh then, when Jimmy left her at the gate of the ranch was that of realization that maybe this friendship really could have happened, but she messed it up. And I'd like to think the ranchers would have still ultimately welcomed her into an alliance, had Pearl not given up trying, because she probably thought that if the ranchers hadn't thought badly of her yet, they must have now. Because no one wanted her, why would the ranchers be an exception? I'm gonna stop my unrefined elongated rant before I completely lose myself um hi hello I'm sorry that I got emotional in response to an anon ask describing the spiderman meme LMAO I'm a bit ill

#blabber #maybe I should get a tag for my pearl/rancher stuff so I can use it as propaganda on my pinned post #rancher/pearl thoughts #there you go

[angry-trashcan]

Fireside Confessions

Part five to Hair Holds Memories

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse and underage drinking, angsty. Let me know if I missed anything.

2K WC

(First)

The camp was dark and warm as you settled in between Time and Four. Everyone was still awake as Wild had assured them that he would make dessert that night. Four’s hand rested on your knee as you leaned against him, listening to the rest of the group banter.

“I’m serious! The thing was three times bigger than the ship!” Wind shouted, standing on top of the log and throwing his arms wide to really exaggerate how big the octopus was.

“I once fought one even bigger than that!” Sky started, leaning forward from his seat, a smile playing at his face.

“You don’t even have an ocean in your time, dimwhit.” Wind shot back.

“Ah, but I do.” Sky started to explain his story in a bit too much detail as everyone laughed along. After a while Wild passed out plates of a peach cobbler.

“Wild, you outdid yourself this is really good. I will never get how you bake in a pot on a fire.” You commented, a mouth full of cobbler.

“Well, my dear, it’s taken years of hard work and dedication to the craft. Trial and error-“ He continued on, everyone rolling their eyes as you just laughed. You ate your plate quickly before putting it on the ground in front of you, doing the same with Four’s once he finished. You took the opportunity of his free hands to lay on the log, resting your head in his lap and putting your legs on top of Time’s lap without asking. This got a light chuckle out of the taller hero as he settled a hand onto your calf.

“Yeah?! Well I once fought a two headed dragon!” Wind shouted at the group, continuing their argument from before.

“So have I! Big deal.” Legend brushed him off, making a shooing motion with his hand.

“What have you not done?” Wind huffed, his frustration rising.

“I’ve fought a three headed dragon.” Hyrule pipped up, smiling.

“Oh for fucks sake-“

“Language.” Time cut the sailor off.

“Time with all due respect I am a fuckin’ pirate. I don’t know how to not talk like that at this point!”

“Yeah, because of that damn flask in your pouch.” Twilight mumbled, causing Warriors to hit his shoulder. He put his hands up in defeat.

“What did you just say to me?” Wind took a step in his direction.

“Boys.” Time’s voice carried through the camp.

You sat up from both of the men’s laps. Deciding to simply sit with your hands in your lap, running your fingers over the new mark on your hand. Silence fell over the group, Wild ran a hand through his hair and let out a small whistle, looking at the ground. After a few moments, a wave of courage came over you.

“May I say something?” Nine sets of eyes fell onto you, a hand coming back to its place on your knee.

“Of course, you don’t have to ask for permission.” Four invited you.

“I know there are things we all simply avoid talking about,” You started, your fingers now tracing the pattern on your hand, causing Hyrule to sit up a bit straighter. “Such as... that. But maybe there are some things we should talk about. Things that would help us all.”

The silence that followed your words lasted for longer than you hoped.

“I’m not saying you have to share anything-“

“I cannot stand Twilight’s pumpkin soup.” Sky spoke, cutting you off. “Whatever you are trying to pass off as soup is simply disgusting.”

Everyone’s eyes were on the rancher in a beat, “Funny, because I think the same for that orange goop you carry around in bottles. Nothin’ beats Uli’s pumpkin soup.”

“None of you know how to shut up sometimes.” Legend stated, crossing his arms and leaning back against his log. A few nods accepted what he said.

“I hate that the lot of you don’t see past my position.” Warriors spoke, eyes to the fire. Your breath caught in your throat.

“I wouldn’t say that, Cap-“ Wild began before cutting himself off, looking at the fire as well.

“I understand why you do it, truly. Being the captain of the royal guard is a demanding job, and at home I actually appreciate the respect. But with my brothers? With Y/N? It drags me down in ways I cannot explain.”

Twilight patted Warriors’ back. “We’ll try comin’ up with a new nickname for ya. How ‘bout that?”

Warriors laughed lightly, “It’s not about the nickname, it’s about how I’m treated. But, thank you all for listening.” Twilight squeezed his shoulder one last time before letting his hand fall.

“I don’t like that you all treat me like a kid.” Wind spoke, voice loud.

“Wind, we’ve talked about this before-“ Four began.

“And you have never actually heard what I had to say!” He shot back. Four looked away from him. “I killed Ganon when I was twelve years old. Younger than most of you. Do you know how I killed him?" The trees began to lose leaves as the wind picked up around the camp. "I shoved the fucking master sword right between the bastard’s eyes.” Wind’s gaze fell on Time. “I am a capable warrior. I assembled the triforce piece by piece to prove to the goddesses that I could wield it, that I was enough. Yet here I am, having to prove the same to all of you. So, excuse me if I need a fuckin’ drink sometimes.” The wind calmed down as Wind breathed heavily.

Silence again.

Legend huffed, reaching into his bag next to him. He dug around for a few minutes before pulling out a flask of his own.

“Legend-“ Warriors began

“He can hold his liquor better than the rest of us. Let him have a damn drink. What’s it gonna hurt? Boy’s obviously upset.” He opened it and took a swig of it himself before passing it over to Wind. Wind took it before anyone else could object, not daring to look up at Time’s face. “Keep it. I don’t really drink. It’s not rum like you’re probably used to, but it’s some whiskey from the castle. Good stuff.”

Wind took a sniff before closing it and putting it in his bag, “Thank you.” Legend shrugged him off.

“We all got shit wrong in our heads. I was twelve when I started, didn’t kill Ganon that young though. I couldn’t imagine.” Legend’s attempt at reassurance only caused more people to grow upset.

“That doesn’t mean you encourage the bad habit.” Sky stated.

“It’s not encouraging, he’s going to find a way to do it anyway. Might as well know he’s doing it in a safe manner.” Hyrule spoke up, leaning forward unto his knees.

“What do you have to say about this, Old Man?”

Wind’s eyes finally met Time’s as the older man spoke. “I have nothing to say on the matter. I think you need to stay a child as long as possible, unfortunately that choice was taken from you. You are a chosen hero, through and through.”

“Thank you, Time.” Wind nearly whispered, finally settling onto the ground next to Legend.

“I miss Zelda.” Sky mumbled.

“Oh, here we go.” Wild threw his head back, letting out a groan of frustration.

You giggled a bit. You hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Sun yet, but had heard all about her from not only Sky, but everyone else. She seemed absolutely lovely. Through her and Sky’s letters he had told her of you and she thought that the ‘situationship’ was a good thing. She approved of it wholeheartedly.

“She will still be there when you get back, lover boy.” Legend rolled his eyes, letting his gaze fall onto you.

“Oh, like you’re any better, making googily eyes over there right now!” Warriors called out.

“I am not! Shut the hell up before I freeze your flat ass to the log!” Legend barked back, causing everyone, including yourself to laugh out at. Four’s hand moved from your thigh to your hand, pulling it into his own lap and rubbing his thumb over the back side of it. You felt him pause for a second before continuing, following the mark along. He looked down but in the dim light of the fire couldn’t quite make out what he was looking at. You acted like you didn’t notice.

“Young love.” Time laughed out, shaking his head.

“You’re just the same, Old Man!” Wild shot at him.

“Ah, but I don’t make it everyone else’s problem.” A few murmurs were heard before gazes fell onto you, your hand still in Four’s lap.

You looked from your hand up at the sets of eyes, “…Yes?” You asked awkwardly.

Wind rolled his eyes, “They think you’re pretty and are being fucking weird about it.”

“This is one of those times you shut the fuck up, kid.” Legend hissed.

The moon rose higher in the sky as the group spoke of their issues with one another and in general. The discussion began dying down when Four spoke.

“You haven’t said anything that’s been on your mind, sweetheart.”

You shook your head, looking at the dying embers of the fire. “I don’t have much on it. That’s why.”

Legend coughed, your eyes shot to him. “Now’s a good time, princess.”

All eyes fell on you. You bit the inside of your cheek. Damn him. “Well, I didn’t want to talk about it quite yet. But it seems like now I have to.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I don’t even know where to start.” You laughed a bit.

“The beginning is usually a good place.” Four hummed, his hand tightening on yours.

Another sigh left your lips.

“I always wanted to run away. Ever since I was a kid. I always dreamt of just disappearing from my world and starting over. So, imagine my surprise when a portal showed up with you all in it, claiming to be from different times.” You took a moment to look around the group to see if they were all listening, you hoped they weren’t. “When you all showed up, I was… engaged to someone.” A few hisses came from the group. “This man was… not the best. Though at the time I thought he was. I gave him all that I had and more. He did some, some pretty terrible things to me.” You looked down at the ground, unwilling to meet anyone’s eyes. You felt Four’s nails dig slightly into your palm.

“What did he do to you?” Twilight’s voice was heavy.

You swallowed. “He hurt me. Mentally and… physically. Multiple times.” A collective hiss came out.

“Y/N, I swear to ya if we ever end up back in your era I’m gonna-“ Twilight’s teeth were visible even through the dim light.

“Please let me finish.” Your voice was light in the slight chaos that was beginning, though it was enough to settle everyone.

“When you lot showed up and I met you all, I had actually been planning to leave him anyway. And I did shortly after. When I told him I was done, he hit me, right across the face.”

“You had a black eye, you said you fell off your porch.” Wild mumbled, hands clenching into fists.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you all well then yet. But it’s been nearly a year now. I’m sure we are going to end up back in my era soon enough. And I’m horrified.” You finished, eyes still on the ground at your feet.

“Y/N, we will do whatever you want. Just say the word and we will take care of it.” Warriors’ chest rose and fell hard. “We will not let anyone hurt you.”

“I know. But I don’t want anyone hurt either.” You finally got out.

“That bastard deserves it.” Legend spat.

“My town is big enough we probably won’t even run into him.” You whispered, “If it comes to it, we can just go the other way. I don’t want anything started. The man’s a coward, he won’t do anything with a bunch of heavily armed men around.”

Four looked over at your lap, “Is there anything else we should know?”

You shook your head, “No, that’s it, I think. My grandmother has a thing against fairies and fae but that will only affect one of you and it’s already been discussed.”

He nodded, letting go of your hand. “I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back later.” Time gave him a knowing look as he went into the woods.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told all of you this earlier.” You mumbled, eyes finally looking up at the rest of the chain.

There were many different looks on their faces, from anger to pure hate. Wind spoke up.

“You know, Y/N. You’re a free spirit, much like everyone else here. You can’t be held down and forced to do what someone else wants out of you. You are your own person.” He leaned back against the log, reaching into his pouch before he finished, “A ship can never really love an anchor.”

(NEXT)

I’ve been wanting Wind to say that line for like a month now and now he SAID IT. I’ve been listening to way too much The Crane Wives.

 I want to thank each and every one of you for reading along with this so far. Just this past week with writing this has been incredible and the feedback I have gotten from all of you makes my heart jump. Every time I see someone has liked, reblogged or commented I get a huge smile. Please comment if you would like because there is nothing I love more than reading your comments and tags! Let me know if you would like to be tagged in any future updates! I want to smooch each and every one of you.

#LU #linked universe #lu legend #lu twilight #lu legend x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu four #lu four x reader #lu hyrule #lu hyrule x reader #lu time #lu time x reader #lu sky x reader #lu sky #lu warriors #lu warriors x reader #lu wind #lu wild #lu wild x reader #lu headcanons #linked universe headcanons #poly!chain #chain x reader #also known as take me out like an old racehorse

[supergirl000983]

The Rancher and the Pilot PT. 3 (maybe final)

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Dutton!Reader

Warning: Language, fighting, Beth being a bad bitch, talk of past trauma.

Also in this Lee didn’t die because I said so!

Y/n looked at Jake with angry sad eyes “There is so much more to life than that Hell Jake.” She said as she began putting her clothes back on Jake following her actions. “What do you mean? I thought things on the ranch were getting better.” He questioned as he finished buckling his jeans. “They are, but now that daddy is governor we are under a heavy watchful eye. I mean Rip and I can’t even take someone to the fucking train station without being followed.” Y/n said frustrated pulling her boots back on. “Come on let’s head back inside before they realize we disappeared.” She said grabbing Jake’s hand and pulling him out of the truck. “Plus I already talked to daddy and he agreed it was time for me to get out of Montana for awhile. He also said that being with you in fighter-town would definitely be best.” Y/n said smiling causing Jake to smile knowing that this meant her father wasn’t going to kill him now that he knew. Jake laughed spinning her around. “Ok so does this mean you are coming back with us once leave is over?” Jake asked smiling his million dollar smile. “Yeah I already have some bags packed and I was given permission to take my ranch truck, I know how y’all feel about flying in planes y’all can’t control.” Y/n responded as she leaned up kissing Jake happily. They separated when they heard a fighting commotion come from inside right as Beth burst through the door holding a blonde woman by her hair. “Hey baby sister a little help in here?” Beth said before slamming the blonde’s face into the door then leaving her there and walking back in. The two followed and were surprised to see people trying to break up the fight going on in the middle. They weren’t still long as one woman ran up to attack Jake, but before she could Y/n grabbed her arm spinning her around and slamming her on her back and commenced to beating to fuck out of her. That was all she really remembered while she and Beth were both being put into the back of the police Tahoe. “So…what happened Bethie?” She questioned her big sister that practically raised her. “Some California bitch put her hands on Rip and then came over and told me that they were gonna leave and have some fun with or without me.” Beth said in a straight voice before looking at her sister and both of them laughing hysterically. “Nice hits by the way. Those girls didn’t know what to think when you started beating the shit out of their friend.” Beth said as they both finally calmed down. “Hey Bethie? How are we gonna explain this to Daddy?” Y/n said as she looked at her sister with all seriousness. “You don’t worry your pretty little head about that ok? I’ll take care of it and I’m sure Jaimie is already working on making this all disappear.” Beth said looking at her baby sister who wasn’t a baby anymore she was now a 30 year old woman that had seen a lot of shit in her time on earth. From being kidnapped, shot at, stabbed, and blown up. Beth really didn’t know how her sister was still alive. All she did know was that her sister was one strong motherfucker

After booking they were both put in a cell and made small talk with another woman in there. After a bit they were both bailed out and on their way back to the ranch. “I still can’t believe that happened and that bitch didn’t get arrested.” Beth said walking into the house meeting the eyes of several people including: the Aviators, some of the ranch hands, her other siblings, and their father. “Well why does everyone look so surprised to see us?” Y/n said as she took Jaimie’s whiskey out of his hand. She then walked back over to Beth. “If I remember correctly I made you both promise to stay out of trouble tonight.” John Dutton finally spoke he stood and walked over and stopped in-front of his daughters. Before smiling and walking away to his bedroom. Kayce then stood and walked to Y/N. “You had to date one of my best friends?” He said smiling at his younger sister. “What can I say? He’s the one for me Kayce.” She said looking up at her big brother. “Ok as long as you’re happy than I’m happy.” He said wrapping her in a hug.

“Actually before everyone goes to bed Jake and I have an announcement.” Y/n said as she held her hand out for Jake to hold as he came to stand beside her. “After tonight I will be stepping down as head cowboy. Rip congrats you get to boss these ass hats around.” She said as she smiled at her group of close friends and family that were all family at this point. “ What do you mean your stepping down?” Ryan asked sharing a confused look with Colby. “I mean I will no longer be able to run things for the ranch from fighter-town. I am going to take a least a year off and start my new life with Jake. Yes we will pop in for the Holidays, but I really need to get out of here for awhile.” Y/n said looking at one of her best friends. “I love you all. You guys will be fine without me. Rip is just as much of a hard-ass as I am if not more.” She said laughing poking fun at her brother-in-law who smiled at the comment.

————————Time Skip———————

The next morning they had everything packed into the truck. Everyone was saying their goodbyes. Y/n looked around knowing she was gonna miss her home in Montana. She also knew that it was time to move on. “Hey you ok?” Her father asked coming to lean on the truck beside her. “Yeah I’m just thinking about how nice it’s gonna be not to hear Lee snoring from the other side of the hallway, how I won’t have to hear Jaime bitch about everything, how I won’t accidentally walk in on Beth and Rip anymore, or Kayce and Monica for that matter.” She said looking looking at her father. John laughed and pulled his youngest child his absolute pride and joy into a bear hug. As they pulled back he handed her something. It was her mother’s necklace that her father had given their mother a few days before her death. “Dad…are you sure?” She asked looking up into her fathers eyes. “She would want you to have just as much as I want you to have it.” He said leaving no room to argue. She handed it to him and turned so he could clasp it for her. It was a simple necklace a thin gold chain with a ruby in the middle and tiny white diamonds surrounding it. After it was on she turned around and bear hugged her father again “Thank you for everything. There were times when you could have given up on all of us kids and you didn’t. So thank you daddy thank you so much.” Y/n said with tears in her eyes. All of the other Dutton children stood in a group watching the interaction knowing that after the youngest Dutton was gone he wouldn’t want to talk about it. Everyone finished their goodbyes and the group of aviators loaded into the truck and waited for Y/n to finish her group hug and goodbye with her siblings. After she was done she loaded up and looked at her boyfriend and his friends and smiled. “Alright…let’s head out. Goodbye Yellowstone, Hello Fighter-Town.” She said as they started the drive.

Trying to decide if I want to continue the story, or start a new one.

#fanfiction #imagine #jake seresin imagines #wattpad #yellowstone ranch #yellowstoneimagines #john dutton #beth dutton imagine #beth dutton #rip x beth #rip wheeler imagine #hangman x you #top gun maverick x reader #rooster bradshaw imagine #natasha phoenix trace #bob floyd #javy coyote machado #yellowstone imagine #The Racher and the Pilot

[faroreskiss]

The Power of Understanding / Part 10

Wobble of the Head / Part 4

THERE WE GO! LONG CHAPTER!!

Part 9

Read on Ao3 / Cheat Sheet

Summary: Now you will finally find out what they were talking about when you woke up in the morning, since you didn't understand a lick of what they said. And more importantly, why.

A/N: I gave each Link a different English accent (inspired from the regional dialects/accents in the UK), so that you could get a sense of what I meant when I say "they can communicate anyway, BUT"

As always, post first/proof read later applies.

Once again, I'm here to make you feel uncomfortable. You can find the details in the end notes, and with that said, enjoy!

Rulie did notice something was odd about you, the moment he was near you at that village that this other Link (they were pretty sure at that point that it was another Link) took them to. Since it was right before a portal appearance, he initially thought it was just the air feeling wrong again. It felt different each time, so he didn’t pay much attention to it, and didn’t immediately connect the dots.

Each time they dropped down or went through a portal, there would be some residue for a limited amount of time, since it most likely took an enormous amount of magic. It would also interfere with his own fae aura sometimes, making him spill his guts out. After he collected himself, and saw you once again, he noticed you also do have some type of an aura around you. He initially thought maybe you were part fae yourself, as you reeked of a Great Fairy to his senses. The Old Man seemed to have noticed it too, as well as the Vet. But there was also a hint, such a tiny drop of it that probably anybody but him noticed it. It was something he helped collect piece by piece. 

There was a miniscule amount of Triforce of Wisdom involved, in whatever aura you had. How strange. 

As the Rancher got up and started speaking to you, Rulie noticed the aura interacting with the magic residue in the air. It was not like he could see it, he was just able to feel it. Something merging, something expanding, becoming more complex. Was it… leeching energy from it? He was carefully watching you interact with the Rancher, then he noticed the Old Man and the Vet were doing the same, though he really wasn’t focusing on the conversation. He heard you speak an odd language with this new Link. Then he started to pay attention, as he felt something shift in the air once again, expanding towards him. 

“No but for some reason, you speak better now?” the Rancher was saying to the Captain. His ears perked up, the Rancher sounded as if he perfectly spoke his variety of Hylian (not that it was THAT different), he sounded much more modern.

Vet finally gave in as he exasperated, “Yeah, okay, what the fuck?” 

As Rulie made eye contact with the Old Man, he noticed he wasn’t the only one that noticed the shift. They nodded to each other. It must be some type of translation magic… Right? Though not that anybody ever heard of something like that, maybe except the Smith swallowing jabber nuts. 

“Huh… didn’t think translation magic actually existed, just like that,” he said towards the Old Man, but also to no one in particular. Well, he wasn’t that old, but sometimes he spoke like a geezer, so might as well. Then this ‘new’ Link spoke (and by the Gods, he looked like he already had a lot of scars on his face), and it just sounded like… like nothing he has ever heard before, to him. He was also noticing that you were in some type of distress, but he also attributed it to the ‘portal sickness’ for now. 

Then the Sailor pointed towards this new Link with a confused expression, “Uh, that guy is BARELY understandable.” It was still so weird for everyone to hear the others speak so clearly . There was always some type of struggle before, especially when they first met. It was better now of course, but there were times where they repeatedly asked each other to repeat things where some phrases sounded downright funny. 

During the introduction round, he kept glancing at you. You kept rubbing your temples every now then, but you didn’t seem to notice it yourself. It felt so refreshing to the 8 travelers that now they could speak a bit easier with each other. When it was the new Link’s turn, you spoke instead of him and translated between them. He was the Champion of Hyrule, apparently. But as the time passed, Rulie noticed that the ‘quirky accents’ as he dubbed them, were making a comeback. But at least this new Link sounded more understandable somehow. And subtly, yet steadily, the aura Rulie first felt, was now… dissipating, it was like a silent earthquake only he could feel. 

And then there was blood. Blood on your blouse, coming from your nose. It happened so fast.

“Oi, catch her!” the Rancher spoke, and luckily this new Link, the Champion, caught you right on time. In his arms, your eyes were open, your body was limp but you were unresponsive. This Link was downright frantic. The scene was horrifying on its own, but it seemed like he cared about you in a specific way. 

“(Y/N), (Y/N)!” 

“Hey, calm down, good that you caught her. Can you lay her down?” Rulie said calmly. Even with the nose bleeding, it seemed like a case of simple fainting. He wasn’t sure.

He didn’t seem to understand every single word Rulie said. This new Link was a bit protective, as the Captain came near to offer help to lay you down, he protectively wrapped his arms tighter around you. One could almost hear the hiss, even though nothing came out of his mouth. But the Sailor helped, gesturing a laying down motion. Then, he allowed the Captain to at least hold you for a bit, as he took out something from his belt, pressed on its… surface and a bedroll materialized, much to the surprise of others. Normally they would ask, but for now they laid you down slowly onto the bedroll. 

Rulie carefully moved towards the bedroll you have been on, taking pieces of cotton from his bag. He made sure this Link saw what he was doing. Just pointed towards your nose and the material. He just wanted to stop the bleeding. The Champion just nodded. Rulie elevated your head a little bit, by rolling the bedroll and gently stuck the pieces of cotton to your nose. Your eyes were now closed, your breathing even. He checked you a bit, and overall, it didn’t feel like something was amiss physically at least. 

“Just let her rest for now, okay? Rest? Do you understand?”

The Champion just nodded, he seemed to have understood this time. He leaned to a tree trunk nearby. 

“Any idear wots the matter wi' 'er?" Sky started talking, as the rest of them gathered around the fire that Four lit while they were dealing with you. 

“Don’t know, but I sense a lot of Great Fairy magic around her, some type of an enhancement that interacted with the residual magic of the portal,” Rulie replied. Time nodded as he spoke, "So, that be wha' felt so familiar. Fayrie magick. But I don't be feelin' it as much no more.” 

At the mention of the word “fairy”, the Champion’s ears perked up, "Ni a gemmeris hi dhe'n peswar Great Fairies yn Hyrule." 

“What?” was the collective response from the rest of the Links. This one seemed to have kind of understood them now, but they weren’t able to completely understand him yet. He just sighed and stayed silent.

The Vet spoke up, “It’s still there, but I think it’s fading… The last residue of the portal magic is also almost gone.”

"I knaa translation magic was too good ter be true anyways. I thought she had some kind of a jabber nut or summat.", the Smith said as he kindled the fire a bit more.

The Traveler sighed. It was much better when they all understood each other so clearly. Well, not like it was that bad now. Slowly, everyone went to sleep, except the new Link and the Traveler. He offered to be the first, as he wanted to check on you again. There was still one red potion in his bag, it wouldn't hurt to give it to you when you woke up. He showed it to Link, who was still by the tree, near where you were laying down. 

“Know the red potion?” he asked, hoping he understood him. 

“Yea,” he replied, “An potion ma a vydh kosel dhe heal 'er, right? " 

The traveler blinked. This guy now sounded a bit more understandable. And the aura around you has decreased significantly. 

“Great,” he smiled back at him. There was an awkward pause before Rulie decided to ask, to figure out what happened to you. He still didn’t understand much from what this guy was saying, but he could try.

“So she has… fairy enhancements, right?” he asked. The Champion nodded. Until you started shifting again, they tried to communicate somehow (more like tried to). What the traveler understood was that you were from “another place that is not Hyrule” and was able to confirm you were taken to four different Great Fairies. Well, whatever the place you are from, he could feel that you were different. Your ears were weird too, why were they round? He noticed it when he came to check on you. It was said that the ears of Hylians were long, so they could hear the messages from the heavens above. 

Noticing you are awake, the Champion started talking with you, seeing you shift in the bedroll. The traveler had no idea what you were talking about, but he politely offered the red potion to you. He tried keeping his distance, to test something. He noticed that whenever he was near enough, whatever that Link or you spoke became complete gibberish again.

Huh.

When he moved a bit further, Link was understandable to an extent, but whatever you were saying was… something completely foreign. How were you even able to understand each other with him?! Meanwhile, he saw you drink and react to the potion, your face twisting like a LikeLike, it was hilarious. He couldn’t help himself but snicker. He came closer again, both to check on you, you seemed to be doing alright physically. I guess you thanked him, he supposed, nodded  and just waved a hand, trying to say ‘It’s nothing’. He didn’t want to speak, because if this happened because of a fairy enchantment combined with the portal residual magic, there was a good chance that your brain simply… overloaded. He almost opened his mouth and closed it again, and pointed towards his bedroll, and made the gesture for sleep. You said something else to him, but it didn’t only sound gibberish, it sounded otherworldly. He just smiled back at you, at least he was glad you looked fine.

It was time to wake the Rancher anyway, he really wanted to get back to sleep. He moved towards where he was sleeping and woke him up. The ranch hand grunted, but he ended up getting up and Rulie went back to sleep, getting all cozy in his bedroll. 

Twilight took a deep breath and leaned against a tree trunk, as he waited for everyone to fall asleep. Sure, strange things kept happening to them all the time, they met other versions of themselves, for Ordona’s sake , but the fact that they were able to understand each other so clearly for a moment, and then the effect disappearing, was a new thing. A new Link… He wasn’t sure how to feel. To him, he wasn’t very new . He wasn’t able to reveal his Hylian form as he was sent to his Hyrule some years ago, and then he was suddenly pulled back as his adventure ended. What a wild young man he was. Would he even remember him, recognize him? He seemed also very protective of the woman he came with. Maybe they were lovers? He wasn’t sure. He saw them snuggling to each other on a single bed roll after some type of bickering, but that wasn’t enough proof for him anymore, especially after seeing how the hero of the Skies didn’t think much of stuff like that. ‘Beds are for sleeping, and we slept in them, so what?’ he would say. Ah, the rancher sighed. 

After making sure everybody went to sleep, he shifted.

___

Wild was able to fall asleep so quickly, habits he supposed. That didn’t stop him from being a light sleeper though. He woke up to you shifting in the bedroll. He was still half asleep, as the haze of the sleep was still heavy on his eyelids. As you said something , he didn’t understand you at all. Was it too silent? No, he actually didn’t understand.

“What?” he said, as he saw your eyes were darting around, scanning the camp. Then you said something else. He raised an eyebrow, and repeated his question once again, with his sleepy hoarse voice. He was so tired. Maybe the lack of energy was just getting to him, or maybe you were also so tired you didn’t realize what you were saying. He asked if you were okay, that you sounded odd. He only heard you sigh and the stretch again, and then pulled you back to the bedroll. By Hylia’s name, he wasn’t able to get the scenes out of his head, scenes from only a night before. A red flush creeped into his cheeks as he pulled you back to himself once again, to the crook of his neck, and let the sleep embrace you both.

___

As the sunlight hit his eyes, Wild woke up. It was a challenge peeling you off of him, as you grasped him like how a little baby would grasp an adult’s pinkie. After he escaped your grip, he took his slate out once again, seeing he still had some ingredients left. Cooking was always a good outlet to not think about things for now, as they would probably drive him crazy as easily. As he lost himself in the holy act of cooking, the others also started to wake up, including you.

The teenager looked extremely energetic, as he was shouting “Guid mornin'” to everyone. Oh? That actually didn't sound so bad to his ears. The others also started to greet him back in mumbles.

“Gude mornin,” Wild said, not particularly caring whether or not they understood at this point.

“Goo' mornin” came from multiple Links.

The teenager put his hands to his waist as he looked quite surprised, he pointed at Wild.

“He disnae speak oor Hylian, how?!”

Wild was taken aback. Sure, he sounded funny but understood what he meant perfectly fine. It wasn’t the case last night.

“Hey, I do understan' 'ee!" he replied to the Sailor. With the rest of the group and the newfound realization, they started the chitter chatter right away. Apparently, it was the Rancher’s Hyrule. 

Meanwhile, you also woke up, they noticed. You looked quite distressed, Wild started to worry a bit. You said something once again towards the Rancher, in a language Wild didn’t understand. Nobody understood it really. There was an awkward, stunning pause. You looked quite lost. The guy with one eye open pointed towards you as he spoke.

"An' 'er? She spoke when we fust met?" 

“Ai dunt knaa, aa didn't understand her at nait either." replied the Healer. Traveler, they called him, Wild remarked to himself.

"Woht? But she cle'arly spoke when we met,” the Rancher said, pointing the question more towards him. Damn, all of these people spoke so funny. But then he stopped stirring the stew he was preparing, as he looked at you. You got up, and started slowly moving towards him, your steps unsure, your eyes filled with desperation. 

“Link?” was the only word he understood from your inquisitive sentence. Wild had absolutely no idea what you just said. He gulped. He tried to open his mouth, but the only two words that came out were ‘what’ and ‘how’. 

The Vet, just cursed under his breath. Honestly, he didn’t hear him not-curse so far, even though for some reason it was always the teenager that got scolded for it.

Then Wild looked at you once again. He saw the blood drain from your face, the slow descent into panic. It was subtle, anybody else would have thought you were just a little bit surprised. Your breathing was quick. Even the rancher could feel from a distance that your heart beat was off the charts.

Suddenly, you stumbled a little bit, trying to hold onto something, but he got you.

He always got you. 

He held your hands as he made you sit on the floor again, he sat in front of you, he held your hands in his and gestured you to take deep breaths.

“Hey, I’m here,” he softly spoke. He counted together with you till you calmed down. Just like how you did it with him, whenever a memory came to haunt him. 

He was just returning the favor.

_______

“We're gonna gan t'my place,” the ranch hand said decisively, as the group kept following his lead, he was just idly chatting with the Captain since he didn’t understand much from the magic stuff either. Meanwhile, Wild never left your side, even for a bit, even as he spoke to the others.

The Traveler, the Old Man along with the Veteran and the Smith, were discussing what they could do about your situation. Since now they could all communicate somehow, except you, Wild was able to explain to them what happened. How you were found, how you were taken to the four Great Fairies so you could learn the language faster. 

"Wor did the fairies actually say they would dee?" asked Rulie once again, to clarify.

“They sez so she could slowly unnerstan' and graps and commun'cate, make it all unnerstood,” Wild replied. It was now becoming more clear to Rulie. There was no way you were from any of their worlds. He shared his theory with the rest of them.

"Wot do yer mean? I ain't technically from Hyrule either, y'know." said Sky. 

Rulie explained that he thought you would most likely be coming from another dimension. Legend agreed, having been to different places during his time. 

"The only toime Ah felt that kind of diff'rence from a person was when Ah was in Lorule... an' even then, it wasn't this strong."

Time was simply nodding, as he didn’t think he had much to add to the discussion. He had been to Termina, but at least it was still similar enough to Hyrule. 

Wild couldn’t deny any of the statements they made. He felt like something was tugging at his chest.

"So wha', wha' happened to 'er, will she ever unnerstan' us again?" He was slightly frantic. 

Rulie explained his theory that the Great Fairy magic most likely affected you fundamentally, since how you were simply another being , your brain wasn’t able to comprehend the voices produced by them, just as they were not able to understand anything you said when you spoke your language, whatever it was. 

Of course, this was met with a question from both Four and Wild, then how was it fine until now?

“Simple,” the Traveler explained. "Until then, she only 'ad t' deal wi' one Hylian. Everybody spoke the same thing, an' prob'ly in 'er heed, it was a language she was fam'liar wi' that was just warped. Now... wi' all of us 'ere... An' wi' the portal..."

Right. They also had to explain to Wild that the magic from the portals that take them, might sometimes affect the environment, and the auras they have. Making them… feel worse. Interfering with their magical items. This time, it decided to interfere with her aura. And with everything combined… 

"So you'm sayin' she short circuited?" Wild said. Well, nobody knew what short circuiting meant. He sighed. At least it seemed like Rulie and the Legend understood him, or what he meant.

"If ye mean she owerloaded, aye. An' now the enchantment's gannin'.” Rulie said. The Vet continued his sentence for him. “ Though at least, since she spent quite some time with ye, absorbing the land’s magic, she kan at least learn the language mannally,” a pause. “...probably."

"I'd rec'ommend a jabber nut, but not sure if it'd work. It's only for the minish..." the Smithy added. Wild felt really frustrated, but tried not to show it. The discussion went on. They decided to possibly consult the spirit the Rancher mentioned, when they made it to their destination. Wild was quite reluctant about it, but hey…

Seeing that the “big boys” were having a serious discussion he absolutely eavesdropped on, Wind decided to try something. He looked at you, and noticed how tall you are compared to most of them. Combined with the complicated discussion he just listened to, he just decided to try to make conversation with you, in his own way. Just then, he noticed a cloud between the sea of clouds. There was a specific one that really looked like his ship with Tetra. 

“Woah, mad…” he said out loud. 

Why not?

He took your hand to get your attention, and pointed towards it. “Cloud!” he shouted.

As you replied to him with words he cannot comprehend, you made the shape of the cloud with your hands, drawing it into the air. 

“Yes! Cloud!” he repeated again.

Four and Wild were watching the exchange from behind as the rest of them continued their chatter. If you weren’t able to say a simple word, if you weren’t able to comprehend their lexicon now, it was going to get much more complicated. 

“Cl-oud, clo-ud,” you said, a bit awkwardly, but you were able to say it. That’s what mattered. Unbeknownst to you, a lot of the Links sighed internally. 

“Aye, noo say it a few mair times," Wind said smugly, and made you repeat the word at least five more times. Sadly, they weren’t able to play it in reverse. You weren’t able to teach the language you spoke to them for now, it seemed. 

After a while, Four also joined your little game of teaching you little words, there was yet hope after all, in this sea of confusion.

Maybe it was your power of understanding what they said, would help them figure out why you got involved with them in the first place.

Sky: Kentish Time & Twilight: Suffolk Wild: Cornish, and then English with Cornish accent Four: Norfolk Wind: Scottish Legend & Hyrule: Geordie (Newcastle) (Except at the start) As always, happy to answer your questions (or in case you didn't understand a thing they said) :3

#the power of understanding #linked universe au #zelda fanfiction #linked universe #hylian language #fictional language #translation #linguistics #linked universe x reader #fluff #link x reader #legend of zelda #zelda fandom #languages #reader insert #isekai reader #isekai #i simp for any linguistic details