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gaijinhunter · 3 years

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Monster Hunter Rise: 2nd Trailer and news blowout

Hey guys this is Gaijinhunter. I am uploading this as a text post since I caught a cold and have been unable to edit a video.

There was a huge second wave of news for Monster Hunter Rise with the reveal of the 2nd trailer the other day during the Game Awards 2020 show. Keep in mind the actual full length trailer is much longer and better than the shorter edit they showed during the show so makes sure you watch it. It showcased a second map, 2 new monsters, several returning monsters, and more. They also updated their official website with a ton of information so instead of doing a trailer reaction or breakdown, I am going to give you all the info they shared but split up by category, trying to focus only on the new stuff.

New Map

Director Ichinose hinted in an interview that one of the new maps would be nostalgic and boy he wasn't kidding. The Flooded Forest from Third Generation has been massively remade and is back in MH rise. Of course given this game’s focus is verticality, there is no underwater combat sections but they really nailed it from what I can see. One of the most iconic parts of the forest was the ruins in the backgrounds, and now you can scale up it using the wirebug. How cool is that.

With the new map we also got the reveal of 2 new monsters.

First up is the mermaid wyvern, the Somnacanth. This marks the much hyped return of the leviathan class of monsters which were missing in world and iceborne. This Monster looks so wild. It has a special breath that will put you to sleep, is super aggressive, and has this crazy taiko drum like chest in which it will grab oysters and other things and bust them against it to break them open and buff itself. The Japanese name is quite a mouthful and is called Isonemikuni. This is the monster that Ichinose teased with his cute drawing on twitter.

Next up is the tengu beast, Bishaten. This monster is really unique, it looks like a mix of a monkey, bat, and bird. It has a huge and powerful tail it uses for massive mobility and it will chuck various fruits at you as well. One of the most iconic fruits it throws are persimmons, which are very Japanese and if you haven’t had them before, they are kind of an acquired taste. It’s Japanese name is Bishutendo.

For returning monsters we have a few. First is our favorite sponge, the Royal Ludroth. This is a fan favorite and a great early to mid game monster. It has one of the best move sets in my opinion, very telegraphed but it can still catch you off guard even if you are super used to it. Strategically figuring gout where to stand in order to cut off its tail or break the sponge has always been really fun and intersting so I’m delighted to see this monster return, also look at that texture of the sponge!

Then we got the return of the Great Wroggi, the anti-poison skill tutorial monster. This thing really messed me up back in MH3G until I spent the time to get the materials to craft anti-posion decorations and even then, like the Great Izuchi, it fights really well with its sidekick small wroggis and I cant wait to see the improved cooperative AI that they are making for the Great Izuchi applied to this monster as well. It’s armor also spots a really cool Crocodile Dundee hat and look in the trailer and you can see the palico armor as well. So cool.

Finally, we got a small scene that appears to show a snow map and a group of baggi getting hit by a Khezu lightening shot. Does this mean the Great Baggi will return? Not sure. But that scream 100% is a Khezu, and I cannot wait to see how it looks with higher resolution texturing, I bet it will be creepy as heck. So while not technically confirmed, I’d say it’s safe to say Khezu is returning in some form. The balance of all these monsters is so great, I love the selection so far.

As far as other returning monsters that might return, I think we all expect nargacuga and zinogre. These are flagship monsters from games directed by Ichinose and he even tweeted his palamute and palico both named after these two monsters. Especially given the Japanese aesthetic, I think it’s pretty much guaranteed they are returning. Then I think mizutsune is also highly likely given its Japanese design, the fox theme, the kimono armor. Plus the model for it doesn't look that far off from the new Somnacanth. Anyway I have super hyped.

Interaction with animals and endemic life

One of the huge features of Monster Hunter Rise is the focus on wild life and animals to buff your hunter or be used as tools during a hunt.

There are 4 major types of Endemic Life: Temp Buffer, Permabuffer, Hunting Helper, and environmental.

For Permabuffer, we got a new render of the Spiribirds, which will buff your hunter if you move near one, and the effects depend on the color of the pollen it is carrying. Green increases your max Health, Orange increases your defense, red increases your attack power, and yellow increases your max stamina. There is even a special rainbow colored one, which I assume will buff all 4.

Via their website, Capcom announced a new item called the Petalace, a bracelet made of a plant called a Sending Sprig that each hunter has equipped. This is what collects the pollen from the birds and buffs your hunter. There is a variety of Petalaces in the game and some may increase the amount in which an attack boost is applied from a single Spiribird, raise the max value that health can be boosted, and more. Here in the screen shot we can see the caps for each and the amount gained for each buff. Just a quick note but this is not going to be replacing charms as we know that they are giving away a talisman for pre-order.

For Temp Buffer creatures, they revealed the name of the Clothfly, a butterfly that will temporarily increase your defense once you interact with it and cause it to generate a cloud of dust. In previous videos we have seen Peepers that reduce stamina usage, birds that raise your base stats, and a dragonfly that boosts your affinity and I had calculated it out to being applied for 90 seconds but we’ll have to wait for hte final game to see if that depends on the effect or if they change it, but it sounds about right.

For Hunting Helper creatures, we got an adorable new render of the Stinkmink. You can carry up to 5 Hunting Helpers and use them like items. The Stinkmink can be used to cover yourself in a special pheromone that will attract large monsters to you, even allowing you to lure one monster toward another to cause a turf war. I personally can think of other applications like luring a monster toward a trap and stuff like that.

And for environmental endemic life, they didn't show it in the trailer but there are also wildlife that can be used like environmental traps. For example, use raw meat and the giganha fish will go crazy, damaging anything nearby be it a hunter or monster. I can’t wait to see someone hunt a Great Wroggi using only raw meat. I love that we finally will have more use for this item.

NPCs

In the new trailer we got to hear several of the NPC villagers talking and on the website they go into a lot more details. They have quite the star-studded cast in Japanese and the English voice actors are also very interesting picks. This really marks the first time in Monster Hunter that the main cast of villagers will all be called by name and speak, which I think adds a lot of personality to the game.

First we have Fugen the village elder of Kamura and skilled long sword user.

Then we have Hinoa the Quest Maiden, a cheerful and optimistic girl who serves as the quest giver in the village while her twin sister runs the gathering hub. While not announced in any other language, the French and Italian language sites for the game list her sister’s name as Minoto. Hinoa’s name is Hinoe in Japnaese and for the rest of the cast their names are identical between the two languages.

One thing I am excited for is that they said that one of the ways they will help communicate the uniqueness of Kamura is through songs and they shared a sample of one of them in the full trailer. This one is sung by Izumi Kato. If you remember back in Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate they featured songs by the wyverian Diva, and I am so happy they decided to do songs again, they add so much richness to the world and are just lovely to listen to.

Next up is Yomogi, our village chef. In this game you will eat meals at her Tea Shop, where her speciality is the Bunny Dango she makes along with the help of some palicoes. I love that we’ve seen her in past videos with a heavy bowgun, so the idea that all the villagers are active participants in the story is great.

Then we have Hamon the blacksmith. He used to hunt alongside Fugen back in the day but now creates weapons for the hunters of the village. His grandson also appears in the game and is a kind-hearted youth that loves your hunting companions.

Next is Kagero the merchant. Despite his mysterious appearance he is actually very warm and kind. If there is a sale going on, not only can you buy most items for half off, but you can also participate in a lottery where you spin a wheel and it dispenses a colored ball. Get a rare color ball to win a rare prize. You can do it once per sale, but you can also scan an amiibo to spin two more times, but only once per day per amiibo you own.

Finally we have Komitsu the sweet-tooth, she sells candy apples in town. What these do is still not yet revealed.

Companions

We got an adorable render for the Cohoot, the pet owl that shows the positions of monsters on your map. You can interact with it in the town and even dress them up in fancy outfits.

Kamura Village

We got gameplay showing that the entire village is open to the 4 person multiplayer session and you can even ride around on your palamute and use your wirebug while in the village to zip around and have fun. There is still a gathering hall but the ability to see each other in the village as well as jump around and really explore it is a lovely change they are making.

Story wise we got more info about the Rampage, both a story mechanic and new quest type. For some reason the monsters will sometimes gang up and attack the village all at once and no one knows why. They call this a Rampage. There was a really bad rampage 50 years ago that nearly destroyed the village and in response the town has created a Stronghold to stop further invasions. This looks like a new quest type with multiple monsters all at once, and a slew of different artillery options at your disposal. I could see this as being a really fun type of quest to do online with other players.

And of course the most exciting news was that there will be a demo in January with more details to come later. That is far earlier than I expected and I now have to finish up my back catalogue of games in like the next month.

And that about wraps it up. Cpacom said that they will be sharing weapon preview videos for all 14 types very soon and if they do the way they used to do it, we’ll get one new video a day for 2 weeks. I hope you enjoyed this recap of the news and please let me know down in comments what you thought about the second trailer. And until next time, happy hunting.

#MHRise

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come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years

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//next chapter. bokuto koutarou//

Request: Ok ok. Single parent!Bokuto and you're his new girlfriend...he's never really told you about the triplets yet because you might get scared until one day he finally decided to introduce you to them because he think you're mama material to his baby owlies 🥺

Warnings: none :) just a lot of pure pure fluff

Word Count: 2.2K

Notes: i was in desperate need of some domestic papa bokuto .-. Also peep me using the kouddi kids that elle and i dreamed up

He didn’t know why he was so nervous, but his leg kept bouncing. Your fingers combing through the back of his hair wasn’t even enough to bring his nerves down. But, this was big. It had been something that Bokuto had been anticipating since he realized just how much he wanted to see your smile every time he woke up. He had fallen head over heels a lot harder than he should have for some girl that he hit with a shopping cart on a random Tuesday afternoon. But, who was he to ignore the heavy pounding in his chest when you had grabbed his outstretched hand to let him pull you to your feet? The fire that had warmed his ears was too hot to just shake off. He hadn’t felt like that in a long time and there was no telling when this feeling would come back.

It had been a hassle, really. He was always busy with volleyball games or practice when you were free and on the rare chance that he was available, it never failed that you were stuck at work. But, the struggles that the two of you faced and climbed over together are the reason he finally decided to take this next big step. It was almost four months into his relationship with you that he spilled the secret that he had been keeping from you this entire time.

“I have kids. Three of them, actually. I know that I should’ve told you sooner, but I was afraid that you wouldn’t be interested anymore. But, they mean a lot to me, so I couldn’t just keep them a secret from you, you know? I completely get if you don’t want to see me again after tonight. I mean, this probably wasn’t what you were expecting to hear on a F-”

He had been a ball of nerves, similar to how he was behaving now. Bokuto’s hands were flying each and every way, his eyes trained everywhere but your face. If only he had seen the loving expression in your eyes sooner, his anxieties about this being your deal breaker would’ve melted away in a heartbeat, but rather, your lips had pressed gently against his, silencing his worries as your fingers shifted slowly from the back of his neck, up into his hair, that comforting touch letting your boyfriend sink even further under your spell.

But unlike back then, a kiss wasn’t going to ease him. Telling you about his kids was one thing, but having you actually meet them was an entirely separate ordeal. It wasn’t that he believed that you wouldn’t love his kids wholeheartedly and he was certain that the triplets had heard enough stories about you that they would have no problem adapting to you as a figure in their lives. Oh no, those were all quite far from his concerns. Having one rambunctious five year old would’ve made this whole thing so much easier. One kid was easy to control and keep an eye on. But, three young children who each had the never-ending energy of their father was bound to make you take a step back and rethink every decision that you had made up to this point.

Bokuto Koutarou had been quiet for most of the drive from your house to his own, every now and then reaching over to place a hand on your knee to give it a slight squeeze of reassurance, for you or him, it was hard to say. “Are you sure you want to do this? We can turn around and I can take you home. If you’re not ready, then-”

You catch yourself laughing a little as you lean over the console of his car to place a small peck to his cheek. “I want to meet them, Kou. They’re your kids and they mean a lot to you. I really love you and I want to be able to be in their lives too. If they want me to be, of course.”

For the first time since he picked you up, he nearly seemed like his usual self. He let out a hearty laugh and gave you that bright smile that had you melting every time you saw it. “Are you kidding? They’ve been talking about this day non-stop since I told them that you wanted to meet them. Madori, especially. It’s been a while since she had another girl around, you know? She’s been stuck with me and the boys ever since their mom left. I try my best, but painting papa’s nails is more of a joke than her playing salon. So, don’t be surprised if she latches onto the second she sees you.” He sighed a little, the sheepish smile settling on his lips.

“But, the boys are polar opposites! Fukurou, he’s the shy one. I don’t know where he got it, but he’ll probably hide from you for a little while. Don’t take it personally. I swear, he does it with everyone he meets, but I’d give him an hour before he’s trying to sit in your lap every chance he gets. He’s pretty clingy, but I guess I can’t really blame him. But, Koujirou is going to be asking you a hundred questions before you can even step in the door. He talks just as much as I do.”

Your boyfriend laughs gently. There was always a certain look on his face whenever he started talking about the triplets. He just looked so far away, like he was lost in a day dream, but the smile on his face would have you believe that he never wanted to return to reality. But, maybe that’s what being a single father did. It brought him closer than he could have ever imagined that he would be to his kids. Sure, trying to juggle three little kids and a volleyball career wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but no one said it would be. If you had told him in high school that his life would be forever changed by three little owls before he was thirty, Bokuto probably wouldn’t have believed you. But, his three babies had joined him for the ride and he couldn’t be happier to have them by his side. They were wild and the house hadn’t seen a moment of peace since they were born, but they were his own and the four of them had become their own perfect little family, surviving the best they could.

If Bokuto played his cards right and if this day went as smoothly as he hoped, his family of four would have the opportunity to grow into one of five, a new mom to step in and be that second parental figure that had been absent in the triplets’ lives for so long now. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t thought about asking that one important question. But, with the relationship just barely reaching the ten month mark, it still seemed too soon to put a ring on your finger. Still, he couldn’t help but run his thumb over the back of your ring finger every time he held your hand, imagining how it would feel to draw the pad of his thumb over a small diamond that united the two of you together instead of your smooth skin. Making you an official member of his family would be the perfect addition to his already incredible life.

The engine cuts and he pulls his car keys from the ignition, taking a brief moment to relax in the silence with you. It would take roughly 20 steps to get to the front door and in 20 steps his entire relationship with you would change. Bokuto felt your hand snake away from his hair to rub soothing circles across his back. “Are you ready?” He asks, honey eyes catching the light of the afternoon causing the colors to appear an even more beautiful shade than they already were. His eyes searched your face for any ounce of reservation that could cause this whole thing to go awry, but no matter how deeply he searched, you only stared back at him, features brimming with confidence.

“Thank you, Kou,” you say, watching his brows knit together in a bemused expression, head tilting cutely to the side. “For letting me be a part of their lives. You never had to let us get to this point, but I’m happy that we did.”

“So, I am. Honestly, Y/N. I couldn’t be happier that you actually wanted to meet them. They’ve never had anyone besides me who was actively trying to be in their lives, so I should really be thanking you for giving us a chance, shouldn’t I?”

“Shall we?” Your hand reaches for the handle of the door, but stopping before you can touch it, waiting for him to come along on this next chapter.

He nods his head, a shaky breath passing from his lips. “Let’s go.” He counted each step in his head, watching as your feet moved in sync with his. The jingle of his keys as they found their place in the lock and the short click as the bolt slid out of its place.

“Papa!”

Bokuto didn’t even have a chance to step past the threshold before three little flurries rushed out the door and into his arms. They stared up at him with wide golden eyes, clinging onto his clothes as they welcomed their father home. He laughed, reaching down to ruffle the grey hair that donned their heads. “Listen, I’ll let you climb on me all you want, but let me go talk to ‘Kaashi first, okay? He probably wants to head home after putting up with you monsters all day.” He bent down, quickly tickling his fingers over each one of their sides, bursts of happy giggles filling the air.

He was just about to finally walk inside when Madori’s small hand tugged the bottom of his t-shirt to make him squat down to her level so she could whisper something in his ear. You could see her making not-so-sneaky glances over at you and the smile that took over Bokuto’s face as he waved his kids over to him. “Guys, I have someone very special that I want you to meet. This is the girl that papa was telling you about, remember? The one that I told you was really important to me? Her name is Y/N and she’s going to be hanging out with us tonight, is that cool?” Three heads do exaggerated nods in affirmation, letting their father turn them around to face you as he stood. “Y/N, this is Madori, Fukurou, and Koujirou,” he states, patting each of the kids on the head as he stated their name.

You get down on their level and as if on cue, Fukurou’s hands make a tight fist around Bokuto’s pants, ducking behind the strong build of his father. “I know it’s a little scary meeting someone new, but I want to get to know you guys so we can be friends, okay? My name is Y/N. Your papa has told me all about you three.”

“Are you going to be our new momma?” Koujirou asks plainly.

“Well, not right now. I’m still getting to know you and I can’t be your momma if I don’t know anything about you.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I bet you wouldn’t like that very much, would you? Some random person that you never met walks into your house and tells you that they’re your new momma, that’d be pretty weird.”

“Do you want to be our momma?”

“If you want me to, I would really like to be your mom someday, but I’m sure your papa wants to make sure that you three are okay with something like that before that happens.”

“Hey, miss?” Madori asks, her hand tugs gently on the sleeve of your shirt. “Do you want to play hair with me? I’ll let you be the hair person and you can do my hair if you want. I have lots of clippies and things.”

“I’d really like that, Madori. Do you want to go get everything set up while I put my stuff down?”

The little girl nods, skipping back into the house, disappearing down a hall to set up her very own salon, but this time she’d be able to do more than just paint her daddy’s nails hot pink and shove a few brightly colored clips in his hair.

Bokuto couldn’t tear his eyes away. Even if he tried, he just kept staring fondly at you as you interacted with the three most important people in his life. That wistful smile overtook his face all over again, but now, his reality was better than any dream he’d ever had. He had everything he could have ever wanted. His dream career, three wonderful kids (even if their favorite pastime was keeping him up at all hours of the night), and the perfect woman to complete his picture perfect future.

Now, he was just missing one thing:

An “I do.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #bokuto #bokuto fluff #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu imagines #koutarou #bokuto x reader #x reader #fluff #imagine #single parent!bokuto #hq #haikyuu!! x reader #bokuto imagines #haikyuu fluff

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years

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All My Love.

Chubby! Bucky Barnes AU (One shot)

Run-through: As cliché as it sounds, you found love where it wasn’t supposed to be; in the middle of nowhere.

Themes: FLUFF, smut, Chubby! Bucky.

A/N: This is my first time writing Chubby! Bucky, and I’m nervous as fuck. I hope you like it, horny ballsacks, I love you!

You sighed in frustration as you helplessly plopped down on the front stairs of the cabin you were staying at.

It was a cozy, decently spacious cabin in the woods, owned by your parents. And they happily gave you the keys after you said you needed to get away for a few days. You needed alone time because you had just gotten out of a 2-year relationship.

Long story short; you and your boyfriend could no longer do the long distance thing anymore. So you decided to go your separate ways. And you needed to heal, and rejuvenate – so you got away from the busy city and your job in the family business. And now you were here, in the middle of nowhere.

You were frustrated because you couldn’t find your puppy. On your way here, you stopped at a gas station to get food and fill your tank, and right next to the gas station was a shabby pet store. You got curious and visited it.

Long story short again; you stepped out of the pet store with a puppy. It was a mutt, and it was alone – quite like you so you decided it was time to be a dog mom.

And now, before you could even properly settle into your new, temporary home, your pup – Kenny ran away. The woods were safe, there were no wild animals or anything. And there were quite a lot of cabins not far from where you were but you were still a little worried.

The sun was setting, and the air just got colder and colder.

“Kenny!” you shouted, obviously it was useless. You just got him, he wasn’t trained or anything and he obviously wouldn’t know that that’s his name.

Your worry got the best of you, and your dog mom instincts took over; you refused to get back into the cabin without finding your precious fur baby.

You walked around and explored as you went. The area was beautiful, and serene. It was slightly cold, given the season was just beginning to shift from autumn to winter. The whole scene had a golden glow due to the sun which was getting lower and lower.

While admiring the wild flowers and weeds, and simultaneously looking for a little, black and white ball of fur; you heard a voice. One which sounded like it was not so close, but not too far either.

You followed it. It could just be someone who doesn’t live far from your cabin. That, or it could be a serial killer. Either way, you risked it to see if any of that would lead you to your dog. It was getting dark, and cold and you just needed to be inside.

You walked further; following the voice. At first, you couldn’t make any sense of what the person was saying, but as you approached it you figured it was a male.

You kept walking and soon found yourself approaching another cabin, a few yards away from your own. The lights were on and by now you were confident that the voice came from here. And you silently prayed that Kenny ran and hid under their porch or something. Else it would just be weird that you were this close to this person’s place with no reason.

Then you saw him.

The mischievous, little black and white brat.

He was running around and seemed like it was having a good time playing with a man. Your dog barked playfully and jumped around this man who had an axe in his hand.

You initial reaction was fear, then you saw the pile of logs around and you calmed yourself down. Poor guy wasn’t a serial killer, turns out he was just chopping wood.

“Are you hungry, little buddy? You want some food, yeah? Such a good boy!” you watched how the man bent down and scratched your dog behind its ear, and talked to the latter with an adorable voice.

You cleared your throat and managed to get both their attention.

The man stood up straight and turned around to face you. And good God was he cute! Dark, long-ish hair tied up in a low man bun, a perfect amount of facial hair, blue eyes which glowed due to dusk, and the most sinfully pink lips you had ever seen. He wore a grey sweater and tight jeans which accentuated just how thick his thighs were. And he was quite tall too.

You found yourself thinking about how adorable his chubby cheeks were. And he looked like he was soft around the middle. Just overall cute.

You had to peel your eyes off him before it seemed like you were being a creep.

“Oh, hello. This dog yours?” the man asked, with a voice so smooth and velvety that it sounded like angels were singing each time a syllable rolled off his tongue.

Breathe Y/N, breathe.

“Yeah, sorry to bother you. I- he just ran as soon as I put him down and I wasn’t fast enough to chase him. I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” you apologized and watched how Kenny sheepishly made his way over to where you stood. You bent down and picked him up.

“I’m Y/N, by the way. I just got here and I guess I’ll be your neighbor for a week or two,” you spoke as you cuddled your dog and got lost in the stranger’s eyes.

He smiled and you immediately noticed the crinkles by his eyes. Damn, he was beautiful.

“Oh no worries, I quite like dogs actually. And this one just ran up and started playing under the logs. I was worried he might hurt himself. He’s very cute, by the way. And I’m very pleased to be your neighbor, I’m Bucky,” he spoke in that spell bounding voice of his.

And sent another breathtaking smile your way.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky. And thank you for saving this little brat. I should get going, it’s getting cold. See you around,” you started to leave, but he stopped you.

“Y/N, would you like some wood? It looks like it’s gonna be a cold night. You might wanna keep you and that little cutie warm and cozy. Should I chop you some?” he offered.

Just the fact that he even bothered to care made your heart burst and made a million butterflies go crazy in your stomach.

“Yeah, yes please,” you held on to your puppy and walked back to your house as Bucky followed you with his axe in his hand.

At some point he was walking beside you and you were shamelessly checking him out. There was something about his gait, and how with each step his thick thighs flexed against the material of his pant, which made you wanna ride his thigh all night until t-

“Wow, the view of the lake from up there must be amazing,” he pointed to the balcony on the side of the house. The one which was right outside one if the rooms upstairs.

You smiled.

“Sure is, only this little rascal didn’t even let me enjoy it. Oh and, the wood is right under the porch. Let me help you with-,”

He stopped you.

“Oh no that’s alright, doll. Those are heavy. I’ll manage just fine, in fact, you should get this little guy inside. He looks like he’s cold,” Bucky spoke as he set his axe down and took a few steps towards you to pet Kenny’s head.

He was so close to you. And he tilted his head in adoration as your dog leaned into his touch.

His eyes flicked to yours and you made solid eye contact for a few seconds. After which he smiled and walked over to the porch, and started pulling out the large pieces of wood.

You caught one last glimpse of him in action, then you walked the few steps and finally entered through your front door. Your luggage, Kenny’s bed, his cage, his bowls and food were all still to be unpacked, and they were all piled on in the middle of the living room.

You took the bowls out, filled them each with dog food and water and set them by the stairs. While Kenny happily munched on his dinner, you peaked through the window of the living room.

Bucky was out there, chopping wood like it was nothing. With each sound of the dull thump of the axe against the sturdy wood, you were afraid he might catch you looking at him; yet you audaciously kept watching him.

You noticed the softness of his tummy each time he bent down. You noticed how his sweater would ride up each time he would strike the wood with the axe – causing his soft love handles to show. You saw the look of concentration on his pretty face as he put aside the small pieces of wood.

You smiled like an idiot as you let go of the curtain and stepped back.

On your way out to the porch again, you made sure to close the dark, heavy wooden door behind you.

“Think that’ll be enough to keep you warm for a few days,” Bucky spoke, looking up at you with a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

You noticed the dimples in his cheeks as he smiled up at you, knocking the air out of your lungs yet again.

“Thank you, Bucky, thanks a lot. I’ll make dinner in a while, would you like to stay?” you asked, hoping he’d say yes.

Being alone wasn’t an issue, but having company would definitely be great.

It seemed like he thought over it for a moment.

“I’m good doll, thanks. I feel I should let you get accustomed and get used to the area. Some other day, maybe, for sure,” his tone was soft and he placed the axe on his shoulder as he bade you good night and walked away.

You watched him walk away for a few seconds, then you walked back inside with some logs of wood and a pout on your lips.

Was it too much too soon? Did you sound desperate? Were you desperate?

No, you just wanted to invite your neighbor over for dinner since he saved your dog and chopped wood for your fire tonight.

“God I should stop over thinking. Right, Kenny? Oh but he is so cute, isn’t he?” your dog just looked up at you with its tongue hanging out.

You sighed walking towards the fireplace. Within the next few minutes, you had a nice fire going, and you placed your puppy’s bed at a safe distance from the fireplace and he immediately curled up in it. You smiled like a complete idiot as you watched him.

He reminded you of your adorable neighbor – so cute you just wanted to squish his cheeks and give him all the love and kissed in the world.

After unpacking, you called it a night. You slept in the room with the balcony, and dreamt of deep blue eyes all night.

---

The next day, you woke up late. The mornings here in the middle of the forest were cold, and despite waking up at around 8: 30, you stayed in bed for another two hours.

When the sun started warming the place, you got out of bed finally. You walked down the stairs and immediately fed your dog who inhaled his food in less than a minute.

You opened a few windows and walked up the stairs again, and got into the shower. A long, warm shower later, you stepped out in a light grey bathrobe and a towel wrapped around your head.

You walked down the stairs again, made yourself a cup of tea and walked back upstairs. This time, with Kenny in your arms. And you finally stepped onto the balcony to admire the view Bucky talked about.

And he was damn right. The view of the somewhat still foggy lake was breathtaking. You drank in the view, along with your tea; calmly. But then, your puppy started barking at no one in particular.

It had been years since you had owned a dog, and you could really figure out what kind of a bark it was.

“Kenny, you are not a guard dog. You’re just a small, little p- oh my God!” you exclaimed under your breath once you caught what your dog was barking at.

It was him! It was Bucky, and he was walking towards your house. Making his way down the slightly twisted alley which connected your house to his. So, Kenny’s bark was a happy one. He was excited to see Bucky.

Oh shit!

You rushed back into your room and immediately paced around for a bit. Oh why couldn’t he be here like an hour later? That would give you time to at least look better than you did now and–

Your racing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on your front door. Without even bothering to look at your appearance in the mirror, you rushed down the stairs with Kenny in your arms and immediately opened the wooden door.

On the other side stood a very happy Bucky, whose cheeks suddenly got pinkish. You didn’t understand why at first, then you followed his line of sight and it led straight to your semi exposed breasts. Turns out, in the process of picking Kenny up and running down the stairs, your robe loosened around your body and the swells of your breasts could partially be seen.

Not too much, just enough to keep him guessing.

“Hey, Bucky! Good morning,” you spoke as you tried to subtly adjust your robe back again, and mentally smirked.

It took his a second to focus back on your face.

“Morning Y/N, I- uh I’m sorry I turned down your dinner offer last night. I just, I had a lot of stuff to do and I didn’t want to impose. So, I came to make amends. And I brought you apple pies, I hope you like it. I made them myself this morning,” he spoke, his cheeks still a little pink from earlier, as he handed you a warm container.

And his smile was to die for.

You had to fight back the urge to break into a smirk each time you found him struggling not to look down at your chest again.

Also, how thoughtful and kind of him!

“Thank you so much, Bucky! I love apple pies. Oh and about dinner, it’s fine really. And thank you again for the wood, it really helped in keeping the house warm all night,” you smiled at him as you accepted the container.

“And how’s this cutie?” he scratched Kenny’s head again, and the latter who was still in your arms was just as lovesick as you were.

Good Lord, you did not just say that!

“He’s fine, he slept well. And something tells me he likes you better than he likes me,” you chuckled as your puppy leaned into Bucky’s touch again, with its tongue hanging out and its big black eyes staring loving at the man in front of you.

Bucky laughed. And it was the most charming sound you had ever heard.

“Nah I’m sure he loves you, you’re so cute and-,” he stopped himself abruptly and his entire face turned into this shade of pink you might never forget. Ever.

You smiled up at him, not even bothering to hide the fact that you were flattered. That’s one of the many things which amazed you; everything seemed to be so easy with him. You didn’t have to hide.

“Well thank you Bucky, you are too,” you spoke and mindlessly bit your lip. It was a habit honestly, you did it whenever you were embarrassed or nervous or put in the spotlight. And here you were all of the above.

Bucky’s eyes flicked to your lips for just a moment, then he looked into your eyes as he pulled back his hand from your puppy.

“I, uh, I should head back. I’ve to, um, work on stuff. See you, Y/N.”

With that said, he turned his back on you and walked away again. A few steps further, and he turned back around and gave you a cheesy smile.

You felt a warmth wash over your face when he did. And he caught it.

---

A couple of days passed and you enjoyed the bliss of being away from the busy city life. You made an effort to wake up every morning and enjoy the view of the lake. And somehow, it always reminded you of your neighbor.

Bucky…

He was infiltrating your thoughts more and more each day and you weren’t even complaining.

You knew you were the type who liked older guys, and he seemed slightly older than you. And you liked that.

This was new to you, you had never been one to catch feelings so quickly. Yet, here you were – shamelessly falling for the cute neighbor before even knowing anything about him.

Thanks to Kenny, you- wait. Where is Kenny?

You panicked. You were busy dreaming about the blue-eyed man that you forget to check up on your puppy.

You hadn’t heard him bark or anything for a while. You rushed downstairs and called out for him, which he didn’t respond to, again.

Just then, you saw the little crack at the front door.

Oh fuck, your dog had escaped again!

You ran outside in fear, yet the sight in front of you calmed you down instantly.

Bucky was walking over to you, with your dog in his hands. And the latter was shivering.

“Oh my God! What happened to him?” you rushed over to the two of them.

Your poor little fur baby was still shivering as you took him from Bucky’s arms and cradled him. You noticed the mud all over him.

“Seems like he needed saving again. He was trapped among thorny bushes, and got all muddy. Found him while I was walking and checking the place out. You should really lock your front door, doll,” Bucky gave you a concerned look.

And you looked up at him sheepishly.

“I’m so sorry, I just- I guess I forgot. Thank you Bucky, really,” you spoke and he mindlessly took a step closer.

“Anytime, doll,” he whispered and looked down at your dog, and smiled.

You couldn’t get enough of the nickname, nor the smile. This man was doing things to you, not that you were complaining.

“You’re gonna accept the dinner invite now? Come on, it’s the least I can do. You’re always saving my dog, plus I could use some company,” you gave him your best smile.

And he finally gave in.

Of course he couldn’t resist anymore. In fact, he was smitten the moment he laid eyes on you. Totally whipped, and he first politely declined your offer because he was being a little, just a little insecure.

Then he saw you that day in your bathrobe, and the flirty smile you sent his way; and he was done for. He knew he couldn’t stay away for long.

But the thought that you might not see him in the same light bothered him. But that was until now.

He happily accepted. And you asked him to come over later that evening.

As he turned his back and walked away, you had the goofiest smile on your face. You rushed inside and tended to Kenny. Luckily, he wasn’t hurt or bleeding. He was just scared. You cleaned him using a cloth and warm water, fed him, and put him in his cage – where he slept soundly while you got busy in the kitchen.

It was around 4:30 p.m. so you had plenty of time. You thanked God you had stopped at a grocery store and bought enough things to fill your fridge and pantry.

You decided on an easy dinner; stuffed chicken breasts, tomato soup and grilled cheese. Simple, but hopefully you manage to impress the cute guy.

After cooking, you cleaned up everything and made sure the kitchen looked spotless; even though you hated cleaning after you cooked.

Then you rushed upstairs and hopped into the shower. Kenny had recently learnt how to go up and down the stairs so he followed up, after you let him out of the cage.

After a long shower, you got dressed in something simple and got downstairs to double check everything.

You were nervous, of course. Who wouldn’t be?

Right as you were setting the cozy dining area, the doorbell rang. And Kenny immediately got excited.

“Okay, okay I know he’s here, calm down,” you picked him up as you opened the door.

And there he was, just a handsome as ever. Bucky.

Black shirt and a cute sweater on, he looked great. And as you smiled and let him in, you couldn’t help but get a sneaky look at his thighs. Good God…

Within the next minute, your dog jumped out of your arms and ran to him. He laughed and picked him up as you watched the two in awe.

“You know, I think you were right. He does love me a lot,” Bucky spoke, giving you a teasing smile and raising his eyebrows at you.

You couldn’t help but smile so hard that your cheeks hurt. He was so wholesome, and adorable and cute and hot at the same time.

You noticed he tied his hair in a low bun today. Which also allowed you to make a very odd observation; of how perfect his nose was.

Jesus… I might be going crazy over this man.

---

Dinner went by just fine that night. Bucky wouldn’t stop complimenting you on how much of a good cook you were. And you wouldn’t stop blushing each time he did.

He spent some time with you and Kenny curled up in his lap by the fireplace. Over glasses of wine, you and Bucky shared reasons why you needed this getaway to the cabins.

You told him your story, and he told you his.

Turns out, you both had one thing in common – you had both just gotten out of quite long relationships. Bucky’s girlfriend of 5 years, Natasha, broke up with him over the phone after a trivial argument, and days later she dropped by his apartment to collect her things and gave him back the engagement ring.

After which, he couldn’t stay there. He needed to get away so now, here he was.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, 5 years… that’s- that’s a long time,” you didn’t know what else to say.

Bucky scoffed quietly.

“Yet, it seems like it went by in a blur. I don’t know, maybe I’m too old fashioned for this fast moving world but, I think when someone meets the one they’re meant to be with, things change. For the better.” His words intrigued you.

You looked at him and watched how the glow from the fireplace made him look even more handsome.

“What do you mean?” you urged him talk. Just hearing his voice was soothing.

“I mean, if someone is meant for you then they should complete you. They’re that one missing piece you’ve always needed, right? I don’t know, I think I always thought that when I’ll meet the one it’ll feel like… I don’t know, like… I mean-,”

“Like something fits,” you completed his sentence and he looked at you like you had all the answers he’s been searching for.

Seeing he was rambling, you cut him off and completed his sentence because you knew exactly what he meant. You felt the same way.

“Yeah, like something fits. Like they belong there in your life. I sure loved her, but it never felt that way with her,” Bucky spoke as he took another sip of wine and lazily stroked Kenny’s soft fur.

“It never felt that way with Steve either.” You stared into the fire burning in the fireplace as you realized finally what went wrong with you and Steve.

---

After that night, meals at your place became a daily thing. And soon, a whole week had passed and Bucky could’ve sworn that he spent much more time in your house rather than his.

Each morning when he went for his walk/exploration, he’d stop by and take Kenny for a walk. And by the time they both returned, you had breakfast ready. Bucky would leave then, and Kenny would sulk even though you’d give him all the toys in the world.

You couldn’t help but notice how your dog would immediately light up each time Bucky walked into your living room, just in time for dinner.

Each night, for a few moments, you wondered what it would be like if this was your everyday life. Away from the rest of the world, just you and Bucky… and Kenny as well.

You were falling for him, undoubtedly, and you only hoped that he felt the same.

---

Another week went on and unknown to Bucky, you asked your parents if you could stay for a while longer. Perks of being an only child; they agreed immediately.

Unknown to you, Bucky took some more time off work and decided that he wanted to spend some more time here, in the forest in the middle of nowhere.

---

Almost each night was the same, Bucky would come by for dinner. Sometimes he even brought dessert and wine. You’d spent amazing moments together just talking and telling each other stories of your life. And yet each time he’d leave, you wished he’d stay for much longer.

Until one night, he did.

The two of you were by the fireplace as usual, with glasses of wine in hand and talking about life in general.

Somehow, the mood shifted. It was a pleasant shift.

“… and then my friend asked, ‘Why do you want to spend more time in that forest?’ and I said that I had found something worth staying back for a few more days for,” the tone he used made you blush and chuckle.

“It’s my dog, isn’t it? You stayed back for Kenny, say it!” you spoke dramatically, and it sent him into a fit of laughter.

His laugh was something you’d remember for a long, long time.

“I did. I stayed for him and, his beautiful mom,” he spoke, looking right at you with radiance in his eyes. The reflection of the fire made his eyes look even more enchanting than they already were.

You blushed even more as his eyes wouldn’t leave yours.

A few seconds of looking into your eyes, and Bucky thought he was being foolish. He thought you didn’t like him like that, because you didn’t react or say anything immediately

But truth was, you were scared that you might stutter. Bucky’s words caught you off guard and you couldn’t talk because they left you breathless.

He thinks I’m beautiful… oh dear…

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just- I thought- never mind, I’ll go. I’ll just-,”

You leaned in abruptly and cut his rambling off with a kiss on the lips. It took him a few seconds to kiss you back, you believed he was just as shocked as you were.

Slowly, you placed the glass aside and climbed onto his lap. You smirked through the kiss as you finally sat on his thighs, the same ones you had been often dreaming about.

Your mouth moved against his wonderfully as you straddled him and settled right over his crotch. You felt his smile through the kiss as he pulled you closer.

His hands slipped under your sweater and his fingers were slightly cold.

You shivered and giggled as he gently tickled your sides.

The two of you giggled and laughed so much while lazily making out that it woke Kenny up. And he barked, gaining both your attention.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this in front of him,” Bucky whispered in your ear and tugged on your ear lobe with his teeth.

You felt a tingle go down your spine as he did so. And you agreed.

After putting Kenny back into his cage, and covering it up with his blanket, the two of you made your way upstairs like teenagers sneaking upstairs at a party. Giggling, and falling over on the stairs and holding on to each other for dear life.

At some point, before even making it into your bedroom, Bucky pushed you against a wall and kissed you fervently.

You sensed the wine in his breath but that was fine. Everything was fine when you were with Bucky. Everything made sense.

His hands on either side of you and his soft torso pressing against you, you smiled through the kiss again. Your hands found their way into his long hair and you messily undid his man bun.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day I first saw you, you know that?” he whispered softly along your skin as he kissed, and bit your neck and the side of your throat.

His beard scratched your skin and his hands found their way to your waist and he drew imaginary shapes on your skin. Just the way he held you made it hard for you to think straight.

“Then why didn’t you?” you managed to whisper when he pulled away for a few seconds to look at the love bite he had just given you.

You were panting just at the sight of his lower lip in between his teeth.

He smirked, knowing the effect he had on you.

“I don’t know. Maybe I thought that you were just out of my league,” he teased with a raised eyebrow and waited for your reaction.

You grabbed him by the collar and pulled him forwards, lips just centimeters away from his soft ones.

“Oh shut up, and take me to bed Barnes. I want you, now,” and nothing more had to be said. He smirked and pulled you along as he rushed to the bedroom.

It was the only master bedroom so it was easy to find.

Once past the doors, you giggled as your tugged on his sweater, urging him to take it off. And once he did, you went and took yours off too – leaving you in a nude bra. You noticed how his eyes lingered on you for a while; with his lower lip caught in between his teeth.

Somehow, you found the bed and pushed Bucky onto it and straddled him again once he laid flat on the bed; unbuttoning his shirt as fast as you could. All while kissing him senselessly.

He moaned quietly into your mouth while his hands rubbed your sides slowly.

Once all the buttons of his shirt were undone, he flipped the two of you around and hovered above you with a smirk on his face. You giggled as you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him closer, and slid his unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders.

Bucky went on to take the shirt off completely and then bent down once again to reach around your torso to remove your bra.

You arched your back off the bed to ease the process, and you could tell even through the wine buzz that he was taking his time on you. He shamelessly allowed his eyes to roam all over you as he threw the bra somewhere around.

Once it was off, Bucky bent down to take one of your breasts into his mouth; licking and teasing the skin as he playfully bit your nipple.

Your hands gripped his hair as he sucked on your skin, while his hands worked rapidly in trying to get your skirt off. He pulled away for a second, and finally dragged your skirt down your legs before getting back to kissing his way up your body till he found your lips again.

You laid there under him in just your nude thong, and having his body press against yours was pure bliss. He made you giggled even more as he peppered your skin with kisses.

Meanwhile you desperately tried to unbuckle his pants.

“You sure you want this, doll?” he asked in a whisper right in your ear.

You grabbed his neck and gently guided his face above yours so you looked into his eyes.

“I do. I want this, and I want you,” you spoke, looking into his eyes and he cracked a little smile. You leaned in and kissed him again, pushing him onto his back as you straddled one of his thighs.

You had fantasized about riding his thigh way too many times now, and you weren’t gonna pass this opportunity.

Bucky leaned on his elbows as he watched you get comfortable on his thigh; placing your dripping, hot clothed core right onto his skin.

The moment your thong’s flimsy fabric touched his skin, you let out a moan and it caught Bucky’s undivided attention. He felt your wet warmth against his skin, and he loved it.

“You wanna ride my thigh, huh? I can feel you’re wet already. Go on, doll,” one of his hand reached out to cup your cheek as he spoke.

His thumb gently tugged on your lower lip as he felt a certain wetness creating a damp patch on his thigh. And he loved every second of it.

Shy at first, you moaned quietly as you slowly moved your heat against his skin and immediately felt a sweet pressure forming in between your hips. Your throbbing clit rubbed against his skin through the thin fabric and it drove you insane.

As you kept moving against him, you unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants and lowered the waistband of his underwear just enough to let his erected cock out.

Thick and smooth, your mouth watered just at the sight of it. You gently wrapped your hand around his cock while your other hand laid flat on his soft belly to steady yourself.

You started out by gently pumping his cock each time you rubbed your sensitive clit against his skin. Then you got more and more aroused at the feel of his smooth skin against your core as well as the palm of your hand.

Bucky moaned as you slowly rubbed the slit on the tip of his cock with your thumb, gathering the pre cum which leaked from his tip. You smeared it around his length and pumped him slightly harder as you quickened the motion of your hips as well.

Bucky watched you in awe. He watched how a spot on your underwear got more and more damp each time you rubbed against him. He watched how you threw your head back and moaned as your hands gently moved up and down his cock, and he had trouble keeping his voice down.

He watched you in pure adoration how you quickened your pace and moved against him more rapidly, chasing your orgasm as you humped his thigh. You pumped him quicker as well.

Yet, right as he started gently thrusting his hips into your hand, you let go of his cock with a smirk on your face. You bit your lip and waited for his reaction as you kept rubbing yourself against his thick thigh.

“Such a tease,” he commented and proceeded to trace your lips with his thumb, until he finally pushed it past your lips. You let him.

Slowly, you twirled your tongue around his thumb as you quickened your pace at rubbing against him; your arousal smearing all over his bare thigh. And the look on his face told you that he loved every second of it.

The pressure at your base grew even more as you rocked against his skin. You felt a tingle go down your spine the moment he lifted his leg just the slightest bit and bumped his thigh gently against your wet heat. You let out an involuntary moan.

“You’re such a beautiful mess, doll,” he spoke in a haze, removing his finger from your mouth, smearing your drool over your lips; all while loving how feral you could get.

He kept lifting his thigh gently to meet your movements and soon, you came undone against him; rubbing yourself rapidly on his thigh while moaning his name.

When you stopped to catch your breath, he grabbed you by the waist and pinned you down on the bed. He looked into your eyes as he lowered your underwear down your legs. You let him do whatever he wanted.

He got rid of his pants and underwear and climbed into bed again; hovering above you with a sly smile on.

Your hand reached out to tuck his long hair behind his ear as you looked into his dreamy blue eyes. He stared back into your eyes and simply leaned down to kiss you on the nose.

You giggled as he was probably a little tipsy too from all that wine earlier.

Bucky kissed your skin; from your mouth to your neck as he carefully slid into you. Your walls welcomed him perfectly and he moaned under his breath as he filled you up entirely, inch by inch.

Your legs wrapped around him immediately, pushing him more into you as your back arched off the bed once he was fully buried in you.

And he wasted no time and started rocking into you. His hunger could be seen in his rapid movements, his messy kisses and the occasional moans which would escape his lips.

He laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head as he pounded into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head once he started rocking in and out of you.

You felt his chubby cheeks, which you loved so much, press against your own as he muttered your name under his breath while he fucked you relentlessly.

His hips rolled against your body perfectly, and his body weight pressing down on you was comforting. His grip around your hand tightened each time you’d moan his name out loud; something told you he liked it.

He rammed into you incessantly, and the moment you felt the pressure becoming too much to handle; he pulled out and watched you squirm and whine under him.

“Bucky!” you dragged his name out sinfully, and opened your eyes to see him smirking.

He sat up and pulled you along with him. You knelt in front of him on the bed and watched him with puppy dog eyes; desperate to have him back in you.

His wild blue eyes bore into your eyes and you caught the hint of mischief in them. His hand reached out and he gripped your jaw in his palm, inching your face closer to his.

Your lips parted as you were almost breathless; panting and trying your hardest to catch your breath. He leaned in and kissed your open mouth, his tongue stroked the top of your mouth slowly and you found yourself on the verge of going absolutely crazy.

When his tongue was done roaming your mouth, he pulled away; biting and tugging on your lower lip. You moaned in a haze as he did.

“Such a pretty baby, want you to ride me. Think you can do that, doll?” he asked, making himself comfortable against the headboard and pulling you onto his lap.

You nodded frantically. You would’ve said yes to anything in that moment. You didn’t care, you just wanted him. You wanted him bad.

You lifted your hips above him, and gently slid down on his erected, throbbing cock. The two of you moaned out loud as your walls slowly invited him in.

Bucky hands held you lazily, his hands around your hips as his cock buried deep within you. You lowered your eyes to look at where your body connected with his, and the mere sight of his cock being buried deep within you was enough to make your arousal flow out of you even more.

Bucky cupped your face again, his thumb tugging on your lower lip.

“Go on, baby.” He urged you to move.

His cock made you feel so full that you wished you could stay in that moment forever. Yet the moment you rocked your body against his, you could no longer form a proper thought.

You felt all of him; each inch of his skin, each vein on his cock against your walls as you lifted your hips and sunk down on him repeatedly.

He lifted his hips to meet you halfway each time, and the sounds which escaped your lips only fueled the lust and the passion he felt in the moment.

And he went wild.

His hand found your jaw again, and he forced you to look into his eyes as you rode his cock like your life depended on it; your walls stretching each time he filled you up entirely.

You moaned as you looked into his eyes; his stare was intense. His lips were parted as he looked at you like you were a goddess.

Messy hair, a thin layer of sweat covering both your bodies, swollen lips and marks of his adoration all over your neck and chest; you were indeed the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

You felt his cock hit all the right spots each time you bounced on his length, and his own lips parted and he groaned the moment your walls started clenching around him.

Bucky knew he wouldn’t last very long the moment his name left your lips; sinful and hot.

As you felt the pressure building again, you leaned in and kissed him. A drunk, messy kiss of passion was all it took for the two of you to get completely wild.

He grabbed your hips harshly and kept you in place as he pounded into you from beneath you, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease. Your body moved against his like a rag doll, as he sped up into you with each thrust.

Soon, the sounds of your skin slapping against one another furiously was all you could hear, along with your moans.

Bucky watched in awe how you slowly reached your orgasm, and he believed it was the hottest thing he had ever seen.

With a few more rapid strokes of his cock, you came undone; gushing out all over him. You came around his cock with a loud moan as you could no longer control the movement of your hips; grinding against him hungrily while he growled against your lips.

“Oh… fuck!” he grunted as he came right after you. You felt his thick, warm load shoot inside you and against your walls and you smiled in delight while riding the waves of euphoria.

Bucky watched what a beautiful mess you were, whimpering and moaning as he gently lifted you up to remove himself from you.

You collapsed onto his chest right after; face into the crook of his neck, hands on his soft chest, body pressed against him while he wrapped his arms around you.

You felt his beard tickle your skin as he kissed your forehead and covered your tangled bodies with the soft blanket.

You sighed in his arms.

“You’re so warm,” you whispered, against his damp neck and he chuckled. You could feel his cum trickling out of your folds and smearing all over his thigh, but neither of you cared in that moment.

“It’s late baby, go to sleep,” he mumbled under his breath and that was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep.

You woke up to cold air hitting your skin, making you shiver slightly.

Weird, usually you close all the windows before going to bed.

And the moment you opened your eyes, memories of the previous night washed over you. And you found yourself smiling before you had even properly woken up yet.

Speaking of waking up, you rubbed your eyes open and saw that it was still very dark in the room. You looked over at the clock on the bedside and it read 4:03 a.m.

You looked around, disoriented and saw that the balcony door was open. Which would explain the cold air. And in the dark, you could make out a figure leaning over the rails.

Bucky.

You sat up quietly, wrapped the blanket around you and walked over to him; on your quest to find out why he was out of bed so early in the morning.

As you approached him, he wasn’t aware of your presence as he was looking over at the lake which was glimmering in the dark hour. He wore just his pants. And you wondered why he wasn’t cold.

You smiled and walked closer to him very carefully and wrapped your arms and along with the blanket around him from behind.

He sighed the moment your arms wrapped around his torso. His hands found yours and you placed a soft kiss on the back of his neck.

“Hi,” you spoke quietly, not wanting to break the soothing silence of the early morning.

“Hi,” he replied, lowering his head to kiss your interlaced hands on his chest.

“It’s cold out here, Buck. Come back to bed,” you murmured against his skin and pretended as though you did not feel the goose bumps which erupted on his skin the moment your hot breath hit his skin.

“Yeah, sorry I woke you up. I needed to step out for a little bit,” he sounded apologetic as he spoke, gripping your hand tighter in his.

You placed soft kisses all over his skin, from his shoulder to his soft cheek as he spoke.

“What’s there to think about at 4 a.m.? Care to share?” you asked, tightening your arms around him and gently swaying the two of you.

Bucky sighed again.

“Just… I don’t know. You don’t regret last night, right? I mean, you deserve someone who’s so much better than me and-,”

You cut him off with a sharp tone.

“You better be very careful about what you say next, mister. I like you, okay? I like you a lot. I’ve liked you since day one, when I saw you chopping wood for me. I thought you were the cutest, most adorable lumberjack I have ever seen.”

You finished and Bucky grabbed your arm and pulled you in front of him, placing you between his shirtless body and the wooden rail of the balcony.

He placed his forehead to yours and you placed your arms around his shoulders; still wrapping the blanket around him as well.

He pressed your naked body to his soft torso and you let him. Somehow, his body heat made you feel warmer than any blanket ever could. 9

“We don’t have to rush into things. But I want you to know that I have a lot of love to give you. Buck, everything feels like it’s where it should be when I’m with you. Everything fits, and you make me happy. And I want you here, with me, for as long as possible.” You finished and removed your forehead from his to look up at him.

He smiled down at you, softly. Even in the dark, his eyes twinkled.

“Where have you been all my life?” he asked and pressed his lips to your forehead, kissing you gently.

You giggled.

“I’ve been looking for you too, you know? Didn’t know you’d be out here, hiding in a damn forest in the middle of nowhere,” he chuckled at your response and wrapped his arms around your bare body.

His lips found yours in no time, and he gave you the gentlest kiss ever. You kissed him back immediately, trying you convey all your love for him through that one kiss.

You pulled away giggling as his fingers tickled your sides gently.

“Can we go back to bed now? It’s cold out here,” you asked and he pecked your lips again.

“Sure, and could you give me some of that love you mentioned?” he teased as he walked the two of you back inside, closing the door behind him.

You chuckled and pulled in into bed and under the covers as quickly as possible, attaching your lips to his again as you straddled his thighs. He smiled through the kiss as he wrapped his arms around you.

Bucky made love to you until the sun came up. He had you moaning and screaming his name until the sky turned blue. And as you laid in bed after, gazing into each other’s eyes; neither of you knew.

Neither of you knew that it wasn’t simply a coincidence that you met that first day. It wasn’t a coincidence that he saved Kenny multiple times, or that he happened to be at the right place at the right time.

Bucky and you were meant to be; you were meant to find each other in this lifetime. You were connected through the red thread of fate; your story was written in the stars.

@christinafaucher @zeilenkrieg @iluvsumbucky

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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

Text

Double Heart | Chapter Five ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pariring: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG

Word count: 3418

Warnings: Tw gaslighting

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Thanks for the love on the last chapter! Happy Monday :)

My cloak is dry in the morning, thank goodness. I cozy up in it the first chance I have, grateful for the thick material that I complained about only a few days prior. I help Rumil tack his horse and then mount. He lets me steer the beast again, insisting that I need more practice. Before we set out from camp, Haldir circles his horse around to face the five of us.

“We have gone north far enough. Now, we head west. Stay sharp as we near the mountains. If you see or hear something that causes concern or even seems remotely unsettling, say something.” Murmurs of solemn agreement run through the group.

Briefly, Haldir’s eyes lock with mine. I raise an eyebrow, silently reminding him of my question from last night. He nods once, almost imperceptibly, then turns his horse. I urge my own to follow, and vaguely realize I don’t even know its name.

“Hey, Rumil?” I turn over my shoulder to glance at him, then face back to the road. I really shouldn’t look anywhere other than the path.

“Yes?”

“I never asked—what’s the horse’s name?”

Rumil snorts, patting his horse affectionately on the side. “You never asked his name because you don’t like him.”

I sputter at the accusation. “Wha—no! I don’t mind the horse—it’s fine!”

“But you don’t like the horse,” he teases, grinning broadly.

I huff, gathering as much dignity as I can. “I just don’t enjoy the height of the horse, nor the fact that he throws me around. I don’t mind the horse itself.”

My companions chuckle indulgently and Baranor gives me a playfully exasperated sigh. “Well, if he won’t tell you, I will. The horse’s name is Roch.”

“Roch,” I repeat, turning the unfamiliar name awkwardly around my tongue. “That’s not a name I recognize. Does it mean anything or was it just something you liked?”

My question is met with snickers.

I furrow my eyebrows, looking around at my friends. “What?” Then, I see the pointed looks Orophin gives the horse, and realization begins to dawn. I twist in my seat to glare unbelievingly at Rumil. “Tell me you did not name your horse, ‘Horse!’”

Pink tints Rumil’s cheeks. “I was practically an elfling when I named him!”

Orophin howls with laughter. “Do not make excuses, brother, you were fully of age!”

“Barely,” Rumil defends, voice squeaking with indignation.

This, of course, makes us all laugh even harder.

“Well then, giddyup Horse the horse.” I take a hand from the reins to pat Horse’s shoulder, then right myself once more. I spare a quick glance to Alex, who hasn’t said a word all morning, and find him glaring over Baranor’s shoulder.

He still doesn’t trust them.

You shouldn’t, either, a voice reminds me.

Pushing that thought aside, I squeeze Roch once more, encouraging him to keep pace with the group.

{***}

Exhausted from days of travel and the weather yesterday, the horses can’t manage much more than a trot for long. I can tell this frustrates my companions, but they give the horses the rest they need—Haldir eventually calling for us to slow to a walk. I take the opportunity to slide off Roch’s back and walk by myself, giving my muscles a bit of a break. Alex soon follows suit, limping slightly.

I hurry to catch up to him. “How’s your leg?”

“Healing, I think. Baranor says not to let it get dirty again and I should be fine. It’s not my leg that’s bothering me—it’s my ass! Horseback riding is no joke.”

I giggle, reaching my arms overhead as I walk. “Right! My first day here I was practically hobbled over. It does get better, though. Just keep walking and stretching when you have the chance.”

He tilts his head, giving me a sidelong look. “So, how long have you been here?”

I shrug. “Same as you, I think, based on when you say you woke up. I…” I sigh, not sure how long he’ll let me talk about our situation before he shuts me down. “I’m sorry you had to wander by yourself for a few days. It must have been scary. I know how lucky I was to have help right away.”

“It was scary.” He moves to slide his hands into his pockets, then realizes his leggings don’t have any. He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest instead. “But what I can’t figure out is why they separated us?”

I furrow my eyebrows. “Huh?”

“Well, obviously we had to be taken together. Given what we can remember, we’re really close friends. It makes no sense for our kidnappers to take us both randomly—it must have been an effort to get us together. Maybe we were traveling? Or maybe a mutual friend of ours is wealthy, and the kidnappers are trying to pull a double ransom? But regardless of why they took us, why didn’t they keep us together? Did I fall out of the car or something? Or did the police catch on and they were forced to dump us in different places to slow the cops down?”

I look at him from the corner of my eye. He’s not going to like what I’m about to say. But the differences between us and the others, the wide and unfamiliar world we find ourselves in, the new constellations…it’s getting too much to ignore. “Alex…my gut says we weren’t kidnapped.”

He whirls to face me, a slightly wild look in his eye. “What, then? Do you think we came here and got hit over the head willingly?”

“No,” I shake my head. “I—I just think that maybe…well, if we’re both here, then we can pretty much rule out a head injury or drugs or something causing our imaginations to run wild in the same way at the same time…And there’s no evidence we were kidnapped—I mean, look at who we’re traveling with. If they wanted, they could easily tie us up and throw us over the horses, but instead they’re teaching us and sharing their supplies with us. They stopped to help. And, I mean, with all that exists in space…there’s a whole universe out there…is it crazy to believe that maybe something like this is possible? That we’re in a different world?”

He’s shaking his head vehemently before I’ve even finished speaking. “Cosima, please tell me you’re smarter than that. There’s no such thing as other worlds! Where’s the evidence that this place isn’t on Earth? Huh? Logically, it has to be a kidnapping or a drugging, or maybe even some conspiracy to run experiments on us.”

“Evidence!” I bark a humorless laugh, not at all appreciating his condescending tone. “Okay, how about the armor and the landscape and the fact that our companions have pointed ears and way better senses then we do. How about the constellations that I’ve never seen before in my life? There are no cell towers, no skyscrapers — I haven’t seen train tracks or cars. Even if we were just in an isolated area of Earth, I feel like we would have heard a plane by now! Alex, there is nothing consistent with the world we know.”

He quickens his pace, fists clenching in frustration. “But we don’t have our full memories—maybe the world we remember isn’t all of it. Maybe this stuff is perfectly normal!”

“And maybe it isn’t,” I shoot back, crossing my arms over my chest. “Come on, why are you quick to dismiss taking the people who saved our lives at face value?”

“You are too trusting, Cosima! You always have been—too trusting and too naive and it’s going to get you into trouble. It already has!” His voice has risen well above polite volume and, though they could probably hear us all along due to their enhanced senses, I see four heads tilt in our direction.

Alex notices, too. He steps forward, gripping my arm and pulling me to a stop. I suck in a breath. He realizes the force behind his grip and pulls his hand away, giving me an apologetic look. “Sorry. But you have to understand—now is not the time to be friendly and accepting. I may not remember much, but I do know that I’ve always looked out for you. You know that, don’t you? So why would now be any different?”

I eye him warily, contemplating his words.

And he’s right.

In every memory I have of him, he’s nothing but kind to me, looking out for me however he can. At one point, we were inseparable. I must have trusted him then.

So perhaps I should trust him now.

He sees the shift in my resolve and knows he’s hit his mark. He draws in close once again but makes no move to touch me. “Cosi…” My eyes snap to his with the nickname and the unexpected surge of warmth that comes with it. He smiles softly. “I’m willing to bet that back home, we have people missing us. It’s our duty to do everything we can to get back to them. Don’t let yourself be deceived or distracted.”

The sound of hooves touching the ground gets nearer and I look up in time to feel the puff of warm air as Haldir’s horse exhales on top of my head. Haldir sits high, chest plate glinting in the sun and casting a bit of a glare on his face. I have to squint to see him properly. “Is everything alright?”

Both he and Alex look to me, waiting for my answer. I shift under their gazes.“Yeah.”

Haldir nods once. “Good. Keep walking or get back on a horse. We cannot lose any more time than we already have.” He turns and rides away, resuming his spot leading the group. Alex gives me a fortifying nod then signals to Baranor, pulling himself atop the mighty steed. Rumil speeds up Roch to catch up to me—he had fallen behind, watching our backs as the group became more spread out due to mine and Alex’s argument. How can I not trust him?

Rumil extends a hand down to me. “Coming up?”

But Alex is right. Somewhere, I must have a family, friends too, and I need to do all that I can to get back to them. Real or not, I cannot get sucked into this world that has both frightened and enchanted me for too long.

So, I shake my head, keeping my eyes low to the ground so no one will see how much this decision costs me. Because despite knowing that it’s the choice I have to make, it hurts me to shun my new friends. “No. I want to keep walking.”

And, for the remainder of the day, I stay on my feet, traveling alone.

{***}

I’m grateful when Haldir asks me to clean the horses’ tack. It’s a little more complicated than I anticipated, so I must concentrate, and I’m thankful for anything that can occupy my mind.

I have not felt normal since my conversation with Alex.

Every look or kind word from one of these new friends sends a wave of guilt through me, and, by nightfall, I have a stomachache. I cannot look Rumil in the eye, nor Baranor, and Haldir and Orophin mostly ignore me anyway, so maybe I’ve already ruined my relationships with them. Then, I have to wonder, is that good or bad? If they are as troubling as Alex says, then it’s good that they don’t like me. It makes my job of staying away from them easier. But if they’re as everything in me screams they are—strange, impossible, but good, then I’m a terrible person for pushing them away.

I don’t know who to trust. I don’t know whose word to take at face value. I cannot even rely on myself, as my memories are so incomplete. And, as Alex said, I do have a habit of trusting people right away. My perception of these men might be skewed just because they’ve shown me common decency. But then that begs the question…could my perception of Alex also be skewed?

I try to force the thought from my mind, concentrating even harder on eliminating every speck of dust from the leather and metal of the tack. Eventually, Orophin comes to get me, saying that it’s getting late and well past time to rest and eat dinner. I reluctantly put away my task.

He leads me nearer to the small fire and the camp that’s gathered around it. To my surprise, we have meat tonight—someone caught a hare and cooked it over the fire. Orophin crosses his legs on the ground, sitting between his two brothers, which means that only Baranor is on watch tonight.

I hover uncertainly at the edge of the group. Is it even right to sit with them, knowing that I’m questioning their character? This reminder of Alex makes me realize that he’s not here. I’m about to ask where he is—surely Haldir wouldn’t put him on watch—when I hear his voice.

“Cosima?”

I tilt my head towards the sound, seeing that he’s set up under a tree. I guess I’ll go join him, then. I turn back to the men lounging by the fire, all of whom look up at me expectantly. I swallow, shifting on my feet. “Um, I’m actually going to stay over there with Alex tonight. See you in the morning.” I give a half-wave and turn, but Rumil’s call brings me back.

“Here, at least take a bedroll.”

I shake my head, my stomachache intensifying. I can’t take any more of their kindness. “It’s fine, thank you though.”

He stands, extending the mat towards me. “No, really, it’s no trouble. We all are—”

“I said I didn’t want it, Rumil.”

He freezes at the harshness in my tone, the venom in my words, and I feel absolutely awful. He looks so shocked, like he has no idea where the sudden anger came from…he didn’t deserve it. He quickly morphs his expression into one of indifference and shrugs. The action is stilted and unnatural looking. “Suit yourself. Come back if you change your mind.”

I feel each of their eyes boring into my back as I turn away from them to walk towards Alex. Ohhh, I was so mean. They must hate me now. Rumil didn’t deserve that.

Alex greets me with a smile, so at odds with the turmoil raging within me. I sit, leaning my back against the tree. The main camp is well within my eyesight, and Orophin and Haldir stare at me. Rumil avoids my gaze, intently reorganizing his pack. Haldir catches my eye and raises a stern eyebrow, looking pointedly to his youngest brother and then back at me.

I feel a little nauseous.

I turn my gaze away, as well as my back, lying down and curling up facing the tree. “Goodnight.”

I hear the surprise in Alex’s voice. “You don’t want dinner? There’s meat tonight.”

“No.” Again, sharpness creeps into my tone. Regret twists in my stomach. I don’t feel okay. I don’t feel right at all. The tears come, and I curl further into myself, trying my best to hide the noise and the shaking. I don’t want them to know because they’re kind and they’ll try to make me feel better.

I don’t deserve to be comforted.

And, given how I feel, how the grief and indecision and anxiety tear me apart, I’m not sure they could even help.

{***}

Everyone pretty much gives me a wide berth in the morning. Even Alex, who doesn’t stray far from my side, doesn’t try to talk to me. I do my chores in silence, not feeling very social. The horses had grazed a bit during the night, though not far from Baranor’s watchful eye, and I climb over the hill to join them in the valley. Roch, used to me by now, trots up to meet me, nuzzling at my hands in the hope that I’ve brought him food. This makes me feel even worse, as I hadn’t thought to bring him a snack.

“Sorry, Horse.” I reach up to pet his nose, then let my fingers tangle in his mane, examining the braids Rumil put there.

“It’s not safe to be out here on your own.”

Though the voice is quiet, I start, not having heard Haldir come up on my left.

I take a few breaths to calm my racing heart. “The others do this all the time.”

Haldir exhales contemplatively, taking Roch’s muzzle in his hands and brushing his thumb over the soft hairs there. “The others are extensively skilled in battle and are aware of their surroundings. You are a human with no weapons who just let me sneak up on her.”

I click my tongue, playing for time. He’s got me there. “When you say ‘extensively skilled’…how extensive are you talking?”

He smiles almost indulgently. “Thousands of years.”

I gulp and renew my efforts brushing through Roch’s mane. I cannot wrap my mind around such a long time, nor reconcile it with Haldir’s smooth face. “So…that would make you…?”

“Three thousand, six hundred and thirty five years old.”

I exhale, leaning forward into Roch’s mane.

“Are you alright?”

I twist my head to see a small amount of humor dance in his eyes, and I let my exasperation be known. “That’s impossible. There’s no way someone can be over three thousand years old.”

He shrugs, calling for his own horse, Faervel, to join us. “Impossible for a human, maybe, but elves are made to live eternal lives. You and your friend are still new to this world, but you will soon catch on to its workings. Keep your eyes open—there is much to learn.”

At the mention of Alex, I purse my lips, turning my focus back to Roch. I work the bit into his mouth and try to persuade him to lower his head so I can throw the bridle over. He doesn’t budge, leaving me to contemplate the merits of jumping to accomplish my task. After a moment, a pale hand and a worn blue tunic come into my view. I step to the side, allowing Haldir and his height to finish tacking the horse. When he’s done, he turns to me, still holding the reins in his hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Uh oh. I try to match his unaffected air. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

He raises an eyebrow. There’s no judgement in his eyes, but he stares into mine like he’s systematically assessing every though I’ve ever had, every decision I’ve ever made, and determining the clarity with which I will make decisions in the future. I fight the urge to look away, feeling my cheeks go hot.

“You snapped at Rumil and cried most of the night.”

“Ugh,” I close my eyes, turning my head from his scrutiny. I take a beat, trying to push away the onslaught of embarrassment. “I didn’t know you guys heard that.”

“The exchange with Rumil happened in front of everybody.”

“The crying, I mean,” I interject, holding up a hand to stop him from continuing. I hate this. I hate the way his eyes burn into mine, trying to lure me into a vulnerable conversation. I feel myself tensing up. I try to force my shoulders to fall from their spot bunched up by my neck. “It’s nothing.”

He stares me down for a moment, not even bothering to disguise the fact that he doesn’t believe me. But finally, he nods, evidently letting it go. He hands me Roch’s reins. “I expect we will reach the mountains either this evening or tomorrow morning. The closer we get, the more dangerous our journey becomes. I understand you are sensitive, but you must clear your mind and focus on the journey. You can deal with your feelings once we reach Imladris.” With that, he takes the reins of Faervel and jerks his head, beckoning me to follow him.

I huff, starting after him, completely incensed. What did he just say? “I am not sensitive!”

He throws a wry smile over his shoulder. “Forgive me, you obviously took my comment quite well.”

Grumbling, I pull Roch with me and stomp after Haldir. Maybe I won’t miss his friendship.

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are the best :) Let me know if you would like a tag! And if you’re having trouble being tagged, try subscribing on Ao3! That will notify you automatically when I post there.

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existentialspacecowboy · 4 years

Text

Deadeye 2: Electric Boogaloo

I added a second chapter to my fic inspired by @5hio’s wonderful royai/fma cowboy AU. What started out as a one-shot may develop into a full fic, as I really do love this! In the meantime, please enjoy this second helping <3

The fic so far is available to read over on AO3 and the second chapter can be read below the cut if that’s more your thing ;)

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2: sunsets and firelight

They’ve been riding for a few hours now.

Atop their respective steeds, and side-by-side, the journey has mostly passed in silence with nought but the sound of hooves against the prairie to disturb the peace.

He’s made casual conversation a few times.

But Riza doesn’t seem all that keen to talk.

It isn’t born out of rudeness, no, Roy instead supposes that she simply isn’t all that used to company.

After all, most gunslingers like her tend to go it alone.

Roy can’t think of anything worse, these few weeks he’s spent alone have been enough hell for one lifetime.

So, he’s glad for her company.

The sun is low in the sky, its orange hue casting shadows across the plains, and bathing them both in evening rays. There’s just something all the more ethereal about watching the sunset from horseback, Roy decides.

And the colour of the sky reminds him of her eyes again.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Roy pipes up, throwing his glance momentarily in her direction before continuing to observe as the sun dips steadily beneath the horizon and out of sight.

He wonders just how many sunsets she’s watched out here alone.

She hums, “We should think about making camp soon. It won’t be long until it’s dark.”

“It is getting cold,” Roy agrees.

She turns her head back towards him, “I think that’s just the alcohol making you feel cold.”

She’s right, of course.

The effects of the alcohol still linger within Roy’s system, even despite the sobering experience of the bar fight. There’s a dull throbbing behind his eyes and in his temples that tells him the morning hangover is going to be killer.

But that’s a problem for the Roy of tomorrow.

They canter for a little while longer, Riza’s dog contributing the occasional bark at its own shadow, before the woman stops suddenly and dismounts from her horse.

“This seems like as good a place as any,” she informs him as she surveys the area with hands poised sharply at her waist.

Roy decides to defer to her judgment. Frankly, he’s not so sure what makes this particular spot any better than the miles and endless miles of dust they’ve already trekked through today, but he’s happy to stop. He’s exhausted, and his own Mustang beneath him is flagging too.

It’s been a long day.

Clambering down from his horse with about as much grace, coordination and dignity that a drunkard can have, Roy successfully manages to get his boot caught in his stirrup.

Overshooting the force required to release his foot, Roy sends himself toppling backwards and he lands with a harsh thud, his back stinging against the ground.

“Ow!” He splutters, choking on the dust his impact kicked up. Escorting a hand behind himself, Roy rubs at the impact site on his back and knows that it’s definitely going to bruise.

He silently hopes that Riza hasn’t just seen him make a complete arse of himself.

She has.

“I’m impressed you were able to stay upright on your horse for the entire ride,” Riza explains, arms full of bundled canvas and bedrolls, with her amusement barely concealed.

“I’ve been way more drunk than this before,” Roy states, wearing it like a badge of honour. He grins up at her dumbly, but she isn’t impressed in the slightest.

“Here,” she says with a curt roll of her eyes, dropping a bedroll down onto Roy’s stomach like a dead weight.

It’s the second time today he’s had the wind knocked out of him, this time his legs shoot comically upwards and curl inwards towards his chest from the bedroll’s impact.

I probably deserved that, he thinks.

Standing to his full height, and pushing the bedroll under his arm, Roy moves to tie his steed to the abandoned fencepost next to Riza’s own. He brushes his palm gently down his horse’s snout, offering her praises and a fuss behind one ear.

Riza has already set about making her tent when Roy strides back over, she’s efficient in its assembly and he supposes it must be second nature for her by this point.

The same can’t be said for him.

Rolling out the bedroll is simple enough, but setting up a tent? Roy’s sure that he doesn’t have enough arms.

And his alcohol addled mind is doing nothing to help the situation.

After what feels like hours of fumbling, and with his head trapped inside the canvas somehow, he feels another pair of hands take the material and help to free him.

“Here, let me,” Riza says softly, impressed by Roy’s enthusiasm, but amused by his failure. “You collect the firewood instead.”

That’s probably a little bit more up to his speed.

A short stroll away from the camp leads him to a babbling stream; on its banks, he finds dried perennial grasses and old branches. He puffs his chest out in victory and gathers arms full of the stuff so that he can make a sufficient fire.

His foraging effort successful, he returns to camp to find Riza proudly stood beside his tent, making the final few adjustments to ensure the structure is secure.

“Thanks,” Roy says with an honest smile, “Found us some firewood too.”

“Don’t mention it,” she says. “Just set it down over there.”

Depositing the wood, leaves and twigs into a heap, Roy reaches into his pocket to extract his lighter.

It’s pure silver, an heirloom from the father he’s never met.

Successfully sparking the fire to life with a flick of his wrist, Roy re-caps the lighter and passes his thumb idly over the initialled engraving.

He only realises he’s been daydreaming when Riza breaks the silence between them.

He realises she’s scowling.

“What was that?” Roy asks, not having heard what she’d said the first time due to his personal distraction.

“I asked if you smoke,” she repeats, voice laced with apprehension as she gestures pointedly towards the lighter, her lip curled in something like distaste.

He laughs, “Only on days with a ‘y’ in them!”

She’s not laughing.

“Well,” she begins curtly, “If you must smoke, I’d rather you didn’t do it in camp.”

Roy blinks, confused, his brow furrowed tightly. Yes mother, he thinks, but he’s able to bite his tongue.

Instead, he nods and simply repockets the lighter, “You’ve got it.”

***

Roy’s stomach gurgles in anticipation, a reminder of just how little he’s eaten over the past few days, as Riza stirs a pot of beans which sits warming enticingly over the fire.

She’s already passed him a bowl; it’s simple, wooden, and nothing like the silverware he’d been used to back when he was a sheriff.

“Should be warm enough by now,” Riza hums, extending her arm outwardly towards Roy.

He passes her the bowl, eyeing her over the top of it with an expression akin to a puppy begging for scraps, as she begins to fill it.

“Please, ma’am,” he drawls, “May I have some more?”

“Idiot,” she says endearingly with a shake of her head. “Fine, you can have another scoop.”

Victorious, and with his bowl piled high, Roy immediately gets to work. Jamming his spoon deep into the bowl, he piles up a hefty portion and pushes it deep into his mouth.

He watches keenly as Riza sets aside a more conservative portion for herself before seating herself down beside him. She has a bottle in hand, too. Roy hopes that it’s something strong. He holds his hand out expectantly.

She scoffs.

“Absolutely not,” Riza scolds. Instead, she tosses him a bota bag. “It’s water-only for you, at least until you sober up.”

Roy whines, catching the bottle and uncapping it before taking a glug. He’s almost forgotten what water tastes like.

They nourish themselves in silence for a while longer until both of their bowls are emptied. She collects his, rises to her feet, and sets them aside to wash in the morning.

Roy wonders if she ever stops thinking about what’s next.

But he also supposes that ignorance is a luxury not afforded by those who call the Wild West their home.

It’s a while before she seats herself beside him again and, when she does, she has another bottle in hand. She sips slowly from it, her focus trained on the flickering campfire.

“You really know your way around out here, huh?” Roy asks, shattering the silence, and keen to know more about her.

“I’ve lived out here almost my whole life. It’s all I’ve ever known,” she explains, casting her sepia eyes over to him.

He frowns, “Have you always been out here alone?”

“Not always,” she sighs after a pause. “It used to be me and my father.”

Her eyes drift back over towards the campfire and stare idly ahead, clear in thought.

He’s clearly prodded on a nerve.

“My aunt raised me,” he interjects quickly, keen to change the subject and regain her focus.

It works. A small smile plays at her lips, a curiousness in her eyes.

“Here, just let me –” He sticks out his tongue and purses it between his lips as he rummages around inside the deep pocket of his overcoat. He finally finds his prize.

In the palm of his hand sits a gold pocket-watch; it shimmers in the dull light of the campfire, the seal of the lion clear on its front. He brushes off the lint and blows on it before he buffs it clean with the corner of his sleeve.

Her eyes are wide when he looks up.

He swallows.

She points towards the watch inquisitively, “Is that gold?”

He nods.

Something like a frown sets about her face again.

“My aunt gave it to me,” he explains.

He supposes it’s entirely likely that Riza may never have seen gold in the flesh before, especially not all the way out here.

He pushes the clasp on the watch with his thumb and reveals the clockface and small photograph inside.

He hands the photograph to her.

“That’s me and, as you can see, I’ve gotten more handsome with age,” he grins.

She chuckles with a shake of her head, her frown dissipated.

Next, Roy jabs a finger at the other figure on the photograph, “And that stubborn battle-axe right there is my aunt.”

“I can see the resemblance,” Riza notes quietly, studying the photograph.

“She raised me. I never knew my folks. They died when I was young. She never told me exactly what happened to them. Said it wouldn’t do any good to know.”

“I’m sorry,” Riza notes apologetically.

He dismisses it with a wave of his hand, “Don’t be. No use mourning parents I never knew, right?”

She hands him back the photograph, nodding her head, a flickering sadness in her own eyes, “I never knew my mother, either. She died having me, so I understand.”

Roy swallows, eyeing her apologetically, “That must be hard.”

She shakes her head, “It’s like you said, no using in mourning, even my father never spoke about her.”

“For what it’s worth,” he says, “I am sorry.”

She nods again, “Thank you.”

He leans to rest on his elbow, looking up at her.

“Hey, who needs blood relatives when you’ve got a horse, a dog, and a drunkard to look after, right?”

Sharp as a tack, she fires back, “Who says I’m keeping you?”

Roy chuckles, “Fair enough.”

At least it made her smile again.

Riza finishes her drink silently and rises to her feet. Dusting herself down, she eyes Roy like a mother scolding a son for staying up way beyond his bedtime. “It’s late,” she says, “And you need to sleep the alcohol off.”

“I’ll go take a leak,” Roy tells her, “Then I’ll head straight to bed.”

She scrunches up her nose and Roy supposes that they don’t know each other quite well enough for toilet humour just yet.

Hayate has joined the woman’s side by the time Roy has managed to drag himself up to his feet; the dog patters obediently inside the tent as Riza holds open its entrance.

He can’t help but smile at the sweet scene.

But he also can’t help but be a little bit jealous.

He’s about to ready himself for bed when he notices that he pauses before entering the tent herself.

She looks to him.

“Goodnight, Mr. Mustang,” Riza breathes softly.

Now, that makes his heart flutter.

He beams, nodding enthusiastically in acknowledgment, “Sweet dreams, Ms. Hawkeye.”

He watches as she disappears out of sight, smiling dumbly and fondly to himself for a few seconds until his brain eventually catches up and rather unhelpfully reminds him that he still really, really needs to pee.

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powerosewaterpuff · 4 years

Text

so i was having mary and john grayson feels bc i always do ofc, and i decided well if i can’t find any other fics and headcanonns? imma make them myself hehe soo enjoy ! (heads up tho, it’s a l o t hehe)

Mary Grayson

-cannot cook, she is absolutely a w f u l at it but oh my god she loves watching john cook. she even follows him around, writing in a little journal about all the different recipes and steps, bc she is d e t e r m i n d to be able to make something other then cereal

-she always lets dick attempt to braid her hair, and even though it might come out looking bumpy and uneven, she couldn’t care less bc the smile on her sons face is priceless

- loves the summer, basking in the sun on a wide beach is her ideal happy place, because the winter reminds her a little too much of memories she wishes she could suppress

-she always sticks her tongue out just a bit when she’s focused on something, john still blushes when he sees that

-isn’t an avid reader, but she could watch johns facial expressions as he rereads the same twist in his favourite novel for the rest of her life

-she has a small array of ear piercings, which include three piercings on each lobe and upper lobe (the first she had received when she was a baby, and it had been her grandmothers idea), then she has a helix hoop piercing on each ear with a little stud underneath the hoop of the right ear. (Dick loves them, and always had a habit of fiddling with them even as a baby.)

-her laugh could be described as, (as courtesy of john grayson), “the sound of wind chimes billowing against the breeze, and then she starts snortin—Hey! It’s the truth, what do you want me to lie, mary?”

-dick most definitely inherited her eyelashes, long, dark and curled. she also tends to argue that he got her humour too, but john adamantly defends his honour as, “the most hilarious human being to walk the earth, and dick most definitely got my sense of humour, e x c u s e you, mariam.”

-she is infinitely glad that her and john have a very equal parenting system, without one person needing to be the primary disciplinarian as they work as a united front. (except when john and dick come inside the trailer, dragging in mounds of dirt from a flimsy soccer game. then? shes usually the disciplinary one then, shooing them to go take a shower and telling them that they needed to make sure every i n c h of dirt is out of the trailer before she’s done her afternoon stretches.)

-she’s a very bold and opinionated person, but stubbornly independent with a strong moral system and a fierce temper. she isn’t accustomed to asking for help, and is always expecting to be disappointed or let down. she’s always waiting for the catch to come into play, with john though? it never did

-the second dick gives her his puppy dog eyes, it’s over. she’ll give up the cookies she’s hidden in the top shelf, she’ll give him the biggest hug, she’ll practically do anything, and mary thinks john is the exact same.

-her gut instincts are scarily right, to the point where her best friend, the magicians assistant, is convinced she’s a psychic of some sort.

- the day she met john, she had heard about a young circus boy about her age coming to live with his great aunt in her neighborhood, but hadn’t really paid it any mind.

-it wasn’t until one neighbourhood party, that she locked eyes with a pair of vibrant blue eyes with a deeply rooted fire within them. it gave her a shock of adrenaline, and excitement, the same thing she felt when she was about to go on stage as a ballerina or about to face the uneven bars as a gymnast. it wasn’t a nervous bout of a adrenaline, it was a calming rush, one that filled her bones with a thrill beyond all compare. (Little did she know, the second john had locked eyes with a pair of lively green eyes, he had found what he was looking for.)

- mary was a natural born contortionist, with a flexibility she acquired from years of ballet as well as gymnastics. learning how to work the trapeze was a whole other thing though, as it was a little odd to adjust at first. she loved johns freedom and wild nature while soaring through the air though, a lot more then she loved the rigidness of her own form. (john disagreed vehemently, the way mary moved was like she was one with the air and the air was one with her, and he admits that was she an incredibly quick learner.)

-will always watch cartoons with dick, whether it be The Simpsons one evening or Tom & Jeremy the next.

-johns singing is her favourite thing ever, she always begs him to sing her to sleep and some nights, when john feels a deep rooted knot tug at his chest, mary is sweetly singing, “here comes the sun,” by the beatles in his ear

-her and johns go to song to get dick to sleep is, “little bird, little bird,” by elizabeth mitchell. she always changes the last bird, a whip-poor-well, to a robin bird. it’s a little offbeat but she thinks dick likes it. (dick loves it.)

-has an unparalleled amount of energy, and is always bursting with exuberance, the only one who can really challenge her on that is dick. both of them are absolute adrenaline junkies.

-has an insatiable love for period dramas, it is her absolutely guilty pleasure and will be found watching tapes of her favourite show in the living room at like 3am

-she loves the smell of burning wood and loves sitting outside of summer nights, taking in the sounds of the cicadas and the cold breeze.

-she is absolutely exasperated with her sons ability to make friends with injured woodland animals, it was adorable and absolutely darling to an extent, but oh my god if she had to handle one more skunk with a broken leg or a fox with its leg stuck to a wooden post, she would consider barricading the circus.

-(she loves buying matching clothing for her family and her, but what she loves the most is dressing john and dick up to match, she has a whole box filled with those pictures, which would be perfect blackmail material once dick was in his teens.)

John Grayson

-is one of the most laid back human beings, he always has a lazy smile and gentle mischief twinkling in his eyes. (but fuck with his family and see what happens, he dares you.)

-his eyes are practically identical to dicks, in every shape, way and form. but dicks have an unstoppable light in them, that his just don’t have but he’s so happy they do.

-loves to overspray his cologne just to irritate mary, her scrunched up nose his absolutely adorable. (but he still couldn’t get why she didn’t like that cologne, it was fucking amazing)

-curses like an absolute sailor, and mary isn’t any better but she’s far better at censoring herself. john has had to slap a hand around his mouth a few times to avoid having to explain the word, “shit,” to dick.

-christmas is his favourite time of the year without a doubt, and loves to be curled up on his worn couch with a novel in hand in front for a fire.

-is an avid prankster, but if you confront him about it, he’ll give you a trademarked Grayson smile, and tilt his head to the side questioningly.

-his laugh is like (as courtesy of mary grayson), “a crash of waves, refreshing and loud with a distinct clarity, and then he starts to w h e e z—Hey! it’s the truth! I thought you were against lying, huh?”

-he’s ticklish, and his brother along with his wife and son take advantage of that way too much.

-dick is legit attached to this mans hip 24/7, like if you see john strolling around the circus there is a 94% chance that dick is either riding on his shoulders or settled comfortably on his hip.

-the day he met mary, he had felt a little out of place and stilted at this neighbourhood party. but he sucked it in bc anything was better then going back to his home, so he took a shaky breathe and tried to converse with his great aunts friends, until the music started and he locked eyes with a pair of lively green eyes, and he had found exactly what he was a looking for. a fleeting purpose that could so easily slip between his finger tips but the thrill to latch onto it was expanding in his chest. and he realized that if he didn’t march right on over there and talk to this girl, he would’ve lost something he didn’t even knew he could lose.

- playing guitar had always been a little bit of a therapeutic thing, because even though he tried to be practicing their act every single minute of his day, there were times where he needed to sit under a tree with his son curled in his lap, his leather jacket draped on him. the love of his life and the afterlife curled up next to him, with his blistered fingers from dealing with ropes all day strumming the guitar.

-the biggest elvis presley, beatles and rat pack fan in the world. he also loves louis armstrong as well as nat king cole. (he grew up with this music as his first big introduction to north american music as well as culture.)

-open communication and emotions are a big thing for him, he never wants anything to be misinterpreted and he tries his hardest to make sure neither him nor mary ever go to sleep angry with one another. they argue a decent amount, bc they both have wild tempers (johns is a flame that’s difficult to light but once it does he’ll have a vicious tongue of a temper, and mary’s is a quick lighter that can be easily put out but for the time that it burns holy shit she’s scary,) but they always work things out by talking to one another at the dinner table.

-this man lives and breathes sarcasm, to the point where people never really know if he’s being sarcastic or not (mary does, and it annoys him to no end.)

-always playing with his hair, or he’s playing with mary’s or dick’s. it’s become a little of a nervous habit for him, but also a way to relax.

-was always insecure about how short and scrawny he was as a kid, even now once he’s filled into pure muscle and but still a little short compared to others. however, he uses his body to his advtange though, he can easily be the strong man of the act, and can easily balance both dick and mary with one hand. he’s immensely proud of that, and shows it off as much as he can.

-just to annoy mary, he’ll slowly lift his son up and they’ll give the exact same puppy dog eyes and pout. mary will legit do anything they want (he wasn’t ready for mary to come in one day, blinking her beautiful green eyes and pouting, with dick settled on her hip doing the exact same thing as they ask for chocolate pancakes one morning. it’s fair to say he sprinted out of bed and straight to the kitchen.)

-despises hunting for sport and guns, his father owned an array of hunting guns that were always proudly polished and hung on the walls of their trailer. john fucking hated it, and was about to blow a fuse when one of the circus members decided to take dick on a hunting trip without asking. (he held dick close that night as he cried bc he didn’t understand why they had shot the deer when it looked so happy.)

-is the absolutle biggest crybaby when it comes to Heidi (the book) and has rewatched Kiki’s Delivery Service with dick like 30 times? he cries every time ( “mARY SHES SO SAD OH MY GOD AND SHE DOESNT UNDERSTAND J I J I ANYMOREEEE.”) (“sEE GRANDFATHER DOES CARE AND THE SYMBOLISM MARY THE SYMBOLISM.”)

-loves looking up at the stars, and liked to memorize their names as well as patterns as a kid. he was overjoyed to share this with dick, as they lay down on the roof of their circus caravan, point out constellations and tell their stories (dick would always perch himself on the tallest skyscraper in gotham, on a clear summer evening, just to get a one glance at the stars at again before the smog rolls in. he swears he saw cassiopeia once, but maybe he was just wishing he did. )

-is equally stressed by dick’s unprecedented love of making friends with the most random things, is also stressed because his son is this tiny kid who keeps getting himself stuck in bushes then runs home, covered in thorns but still has the biggest smile. john is usually on first aid duty, and he just knows that his kid would run into the sun exploding with a bright smile plastered on his face.

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hardskz · 5 years

Text

indulge.

pairing — hwang hyunjin x genderneutral! reader

genre — smut; dirty talk, masturbation, choking, praise kink, master kink, hand kink, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, hard dom!hyunjin

synopsis — after avoiding hyunjin for weeks because you got off whilst imagining his face, he’s making it clear that you haven’t been the most subtle one when staring at him. alternatively, 5.5k words of hyunjin being a cocky little fucker.

note — today marks the one month anniversary of this tragedy of a blog, so here’s my gift to you all thank you for supporting me <3 please enjoy this pwp monster! i tried to make the reader genderneutral since the original request used they/them pronouns and fuck it was a challenge and idk if it’ll ever do that again. (writing porn without using the words dick or clit or good boy/girl when referring to the reader is hard i dare you and i cringed writing this out kms) in any case, the reader is a bottom in this fic!

Having a crush on your friend’s bandmate is one thing. Being attracted to said bandmate to the point where your underwear grows damp just by looking at him (in real life and on the internet) is something entirely worse.

It’s in the middle of the night when you wake up with your heart pounding against your chest and sweat trickling down your back beneath the loose t-shirt. Your wet dreams have been appearing a fuck times too often and feature the same person over and over again to your dismay. You’re lucky you’re the only one in the house over the weekend because you don’t necessarily want your moaning at 3 AM to be the main topic during breakfast.

Hoping to cool down while recalling the many times Minho has complained about one of his cats pissing on the couch isn’t working this time. In retrospect, thinking about Minho’s weird cat antics in an attempt to get out of the mood has never been completely effective for the past three months. Sure, picturing your best friend ranting with his mouth full of half-chewed Cheetos and getting some crumbs on your lap is a definite turn-off, but the needy wish of getting dicked by a particular bandmate of his still lingers.

It’s been three months since you realized that the horny part of your brain has stopped projecting different guys out of your mental archive of masturbation-material faces. Instead, it casts one incredibly handsome — he’s so handsome he should be illegal at this point, you decide — person in your mind. Every. Fucking. Time.

You’ve been trying to erase him out of your head, but perhaps it wasn’t your brightest idea when you tried searching for a new figure to replace him with a clear vision in mind. It took you approximately two weeks to realize that you were looking for someone with long and nimble fingers and plump lips and just everything that Hwang Hyunjin is.

Because of knowing that fucker named Hyunjin in person, you haven’t had any sexual release for the past three months. Again, it’s one thing to have a crush on your friend’s bandmate, but it’s a completely different thing when you get off on said bandmate and then have to face him every week and pretend like nothing’s wrong. You’re bound to see him at least once a week because Minho always forces you to be the judge of the group’s new choreography because it’s, quote Minho, “crucial to getting the opinion from an outsider.” And that although he knows you’re far from a dancer. (You’ve taken one single dance class because he hauled your ass to his studio before he became a trainee and ever since, you haven’t stepped a foot into the dance studio.)

You see Hyunjin more often than compared to the remaining members of the group. Because of fucking course, he’s part of the dance line and also contributes into making the choreography, so it shouldn’t be so surprising that he’s started to act comfortably around you. To your horror, him acting comfortably also includes being touchy. That being said, he’s developed a habit of throwing an arm around your shoulder or pinching your cheeks to spite you alongside Minho. It’s only a matter of time until you have no other choice but to give in because Hyunjin is getting more casual by the day. Then again, you’re holding off because you don’t want to have a bad conscience and—

Fuck it.

You hesitantly bunch your blanket to the side and slip a hand underneath the waistband of your underwear, shuddering at the slightest pressure and opening your mouth to let out a silent gasp. Fucking hell, three months of no touching has made you so sensitive. You try to take it slow, carefully ghosting around your weak spots as you graze your other hand over the inside of your thighs, a mewl leaving your mouth.

A wet patch has formed in your underwear and you’re leaking so much that it’s enough to coat two fingers in slick. By then, your body has switched to autopilot and before you can process it, a finger prods at your entrance and that’s when you realize there’s no use in beginning slowly but surely.

You pump your finger in and out of you at a slower pace and your body’s reacting to it astoundingly sensitive to your ministrations. Your hips buck up into the air in the hopes of more friction and muffled curses fly out of your mouth without intervention. All sense of reason flies out the window when you curl your finger and graze your sweet spot. At this point, you’re already imagining it’s Hyunjin’s finger teasing you, Hyunjin watching your squirming form with hungry eyes and knowing that you’re at the brink of begging him to hit your spot.

Once you’re fixated on Hyunjin, you don’t hold back any longer. You get rid of your underwear completely and then slip a second finger in, whimpering at the stretch. It’s been so long, way too long of having last felt this way and when you start scissoring your fingers, you can’t help but bring “Hyunjin, f-fuck,” past your lips. Why the fuck did you sentence yourself to a masturbating-to-Hyunjn prohibition in the first place? It feels so much better now that Hyunjin’s name spills out of your mouth like a prayer.

With every passing second, your movements grow more frantic. The sound of skin slapping and slick squelching in you and your ragged breath resound within your four walls. The bed starts to creak a little, the blanket has somehow found its way to the cold floor and all you can think about is an imaginary Hyunjin fingering you in a moderate tempo and reminding you how wet you are for him and how well you’re doing.

Your imagination is running wild to the point of no return. You’re imagining Hyunjin’s forehead covered in sweat as he fucks you over with his hands, imagining his bangs falling above his eyes, imagining his tongue hungrily running over his plump, pink lips as he stares down at you. He’d smile amusedly at your whines, would coo about how much he loves hearing you so vocal and then mark you up in purple bruises. As much as he’d want to let everyone see the hickeys he planted on you, he’d know better and settle for your thighs, forcing you to keep them spread out for him. And even then, you wouldn’t be allowed to cum unless he gives you the green light.

“P-please, Hyunjin—” you whimper as you sense your high approaching and your fingers speed up. The sensation is becoming too much to handle, the idea of Hyunjin looking down at your with a coy smile and mumbling profanities as he rams his long, slender fingers into you and abuses your spot without a break. You’re not entirely sure what he’d say, but you’re sure that whatever it is, it’s downright filthy and sexy and affecting you more than he’d initially expect.

“Please, Hyunjin, I’m gonna… f-fu-u-uuck… I’m gonna—”

Hyunjin is a cocky little fucker who thrives on control, so he’d pull out and grin at you wickedly, continuing to leave marks on your thighs and restraining your hands from touching yourself. Your cry comes out louder than intended as you do so and you keep your legs spread apart, breath hitching as the cool air hits you bare.

Hyunjin is a kinky piece of shit who loves power. He’s also pretty damn aware of how nice and big his hands are, and you can’t help but want the feeling of his hand wrapped around your neck and his fingers in your mouth. He’d be so fucking smug, waiting for you to get teary-eyed and thrash around pathetically before he lets you indulge.

“I’ll be good for you, just— please—” your voice cracks towards the end and you turn your head to the side to bury your face into the pillow, muffling out your moans when you slowly finger yourself again, trembling legs still spread apart. “Fuck, Hyunjin, please let me cum!”

“Mmh, cum for me,” you imagine him rasping between low groans, a smug smirk etched on his face. “Since you’ve been so good for me.”

You pick up your pace, fingers drilling into you in an abusing manner and your body jolts up. You’re too far gone to control your voice, high-pitched moans and sobs and broken cries of his name bounce off the not-so soundproof walls, but holy fuck, you needed this so badly. Although Hyunjin would bathe in your sounds, his superiority kink would be fed even more once he shoves down his free fingers in your mouth and burns your tear-stained face in the back of his mind. That’s definitely something he’d do, so you shove three fingers into your mouth, imagining they were his. You whine at the thought of him tapping your tongue, a silent order to suck.

When you cum, it’s with a broken sob and Hyunjin’s satisfied grin in mind. Your body is trembling from the wave of pleasure flooding over you, mind hazy from the excessive stimulation. Three months of sexual frustration, you’re riding out three months worth of sexual frustration, so you don’t give a fuck about the drool running down your chin, tears staining your cheeks or the fact that your bedding is now sticky in cum and sweat. As you slowly come down from your high, you wipe off your hand on your shirt and try to catch your breath, eyes staring at the ceiling.

Well, you’re fucked. You finally committed the sin of masturbating to Hyunjin. You’re still basking in your moment of bliss and thus, you don’t care about the aftermath for now. But tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow you’ll regret what you just did. You just hope the regret won’t follow you strongly for the rest of your life.

Four weeks later and you’re still regretting it.

Nothing has changed so far; Minho still spams your inbox when you’re not yet in the practice room to review a choreography even though you still have ten minutes to get there, and Hyunjin still casually throws an arm around your shoulder and buries his face into the crook of your neck when he’s exhausted and not too sweaty.

Nothing has changed so far except that so much has changed.

Obviously, you can’t avoid Hyunjin like the plague — even though that idea sounds fucking genius — but you’re trying to keep a distance from him. You’ve started avoiding his gaze, giving curt answers when he asks you if anything is wrong (“Why should it be? Everything’s peachy!” God Gracious, who the fuck uses the word peachy?) and always find an excuse to run away when you sense that he’s about to start a longer conversation (“Did you hear that? I should go help Felix!”).

You arrive at the practice room ten minutes later than usual due to the traffic jam and immediately slip out of your new shoes once the door slams shut. Fucking hell, you really should’ve worn those out first. “Minho, don’t even dare to bitch around, my feet hurt and it’s currently rush hour and the last thing I need is you breathing down my…” your voice trails off when you look up and only see Hyunjin raising a brow at you.

Oh. Fuck.

“Where are Minho and Felix?” you ask, realizing that you two are the only ones in the room. You try not to stare too much at his defined arms or plump lips or just the fact that he’s dressed in loose pants and a sleeveless shirt.

“Hello to you too,” Hyunjin scowls and walks towards your direction to put his half-empty water bottle back on the table. “Chan is treating them to hotpot. Well, he invited all of us but I really need to perfect this move, so I passed.”

“So that’s why Minho didn’t send me twenty voicemails today for being late, huh. And I can’t believe you passed on free food. Anyway—” you attempt to quickly slip your feet back into your uncomfortable sneakers. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, I’ll get going then—”

Before you know it, Hyunjin grips your wrist forcefully and cuts you off with a pout. “I still need someone to review my dance, though. Don’t you wanna keep me company?”

You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine and blink slowly. “Uh, you do know that I have no fucking clue about dancing.”

“(y/n), that’s not an answer to my question. Am I really that unbearable?”

“What? Of course not! I just don’t see how much of a help I can be here.”

His pout morphs into a smug smile. It’s as if he knows, but you can’t quite decipher what exactly. The grip on your wrist tightens to the point where you should be worried about your blood circulation but instead, you’re enjoying the long, calloused fingers on your skin.

“Then let me ask you something else. Do I ever cross your mind?” Hyunjin’s tone is light and melodic, but the underlying catch is hard to miss. You gulp, suddenly wanting Minho to appear out of nowhere and begin his speech about why the fuck cats deserve rights and are superior to the human race. The sudden mood shift grows insufferable as you slowly try to pull away. However, Hyunjin is persistent and never lets go and invades your personal bubble. That’s when you find your voice again. It’s small and shaky but it’s something.

“Hyunjin, you’re not making any sense—”

“Do you think about me? Dream about me?” you pale at the accusation. He knows. The smile on his face widens in victory. “Bingo.”

And just like that, he pushes you against the door before letting go of you. Now, you could run out of the room, the door handle is just a few inches away, but Hyunjin is strong and fast and there’s no way that you’d succeed in escaping. Not knowing what else to do without feeling as if you want the ground to swallow you whole, you just stand stiffly. Hyunjin laughs through his nose and shoves his hands into his pockets.

“C’mon, we both saw this coming.”

“Really?” you squeak, trembling at his presence. If only he leaned into you a little more, you’d feel his breath prickling your skin. “I-I mean, uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really,” he sighs and then slams a hand against the door, right next to your face, the impact so loud that your body jolts. “Then please explain why you’ve been avoiding me as if I were carrying a contagious disease but then proceed to eye-fuck me when I turn my back to you. I’ve noticed the way you’ve been staring at me and honestly, it’s so cute but also so, so naive of you to think that I’m blind. You do know that this room is full of mirrors, right?”

Your eyes widen in fear. “W-what are you trying to say?”

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m intrigued by you. No, scrap that — I want you. I want to tear you apart. I want you to scream my name. I want you crying as you take my cock up to the hilt. I want a lot of things, so much more than you can imagine, but that’s not the point. Remember, I asked you a question: do I ever cross your mind?”

He reaches for your chin with his free hand, forcing you to meet his eyes. Albeit firm, his grip isn’t too harsh so that you can nod in response.

“Obviously,” he says casually, “I wanna know more though. Give me the gory details.”

You inhale sharply. Fucking hell. No. No. No. It’s already embarrassing enough that Hyunjin has noticed you mentally undressing him the entire time and you’re not going down the rabbit hole of “telling him all of the kinky shit you’ve imagined him do to you and potentially making your fantasies come true”.

Hyunjin makes a sad face, but his voice just drips in shameless glee. “I guess I’ll have to force you then. Didn’t peg you as a brat, but I can work with that too.”

“I’m not a—”

Before you finish wording out your complete thought, Hyunjin grabs you by the collar and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s sloppy and devoid of care or emotion, but it leaves you boiling hot and dizzy. Hyunjin knows no boundaries and slings one arm around your waist to draw you closer to him, the other hand resting at the back of your neck. He’s kissing you feverishly like a man starved, forces his tongue into your mouth and doesn’t give you any chance to pull away and breathe. Meanwhile, your hands find their way to his head and tug on strands of pitch-black hair. It’s a weak attempt to break off the kiss, but it just elicits a groan out of the back of his throat.

When you finally pull away, his eyes are hooded and his lips are red and swollen. Catching your breath, you somehow manage to stumble all the way to the back of the room. Hyunjin pushes you onto the semi-comfortable couch before he starts to kiss you again, breaking it off once to discard his shirt. At the sight of his defined abs (you’re finally seeing them in person and not in shitty LQ pictures that a fan took during a concert, thank you God), you suppress the need to run your hands over them.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the show,” he rasps with a grin before he latches for another uncoordinated liplock. Saliva is dripping down from the corner of your lips, but neither of you seems to care.

Eventually, his hands start to roam your body, undoing the buttons of your shirt before sliding it off your shoulders and throwing it into a corner. He detaches his lips from you and before you can complain, he leans down to suck on the patch of skin below your collarbone. A shaky moan escapes your mouth and you throw your head back, whimpering when he begins to bite. Perhaps you got that partially right. Hyunjin loves to mark, just in dangerous areas to your dismay. One slip up and people are going to see the bruises.

His hands begin to wander lower and lower. They’re halfway undoing the zipper when you sob at the faintest amount of pressure and weep, “Stop stop, Hyunjin— stop!”

He stops in his tracks and looks up at you, clearly impatient. “What?”

“I’m, u-uh, I’m really sensitive, okay?” you feel the blood rush to your cheeks when you say it out loud. “I haven’t got dicked in a while and also haven’t been, uh, touching myself, so uh…”

“Why the fuck not?”

“B-because the last time I touched myself, I’ve been thinking about you!”

“So you got off on… me?”

Hyunjin looks so fucking smug, so satisfied, and you’re pretty damn sure it’s not a trick of the light and his eyes really turned a shade darker. Yeah, that superiority kink? You were right on that, he definitely loves to bask in power.

“Yes, I did. Happy? As I was saying, I’m really fucking sensitive right now, especially my thighs, so don’t—” Hyunjin quickly zips down the rest, applying pressure in all the right places and when he strips off the jeans, he makes sure that his knuckles graze your inner thighs, “d-don’t do shit like this— oh f-fuck, Hyunjin!”

“Yeah, I don’t fucking care.” he shrugs and your pants to God knows where. “By the way, I cut you off before. What did you want to say? You’re not a…?”

“I’m not a brat.”

“You sure do act like one,” he says and adds after a moment of contemplation, “Tell you this. You tell me exactly what you imagined me to do when you touched yourself and I’ll see for myself if you’re really not a brat.”

“What?”

“I wanna know what you want me to do to you. You wanna be good for me, don’t you? Then tell me.”

“You were… I— wait, someone might come in—”

“The practice room is booked for us for another hour. Now go on, I’m listening.”

You squirm when his fingers ghost over the inside of your thighs. Any attempts to move away prove themselves futile as Hyunjin plants you onto the couch with his free hand on your hip. “You had— hhhh. o-oh fuck— your fingers in my mouth, told me to suck and— a-aaa-ah— fingered me then…”

He hums appreciatively before releasing the grip on your hip and violently shoving three fingers into your mouth. His fingers are longer than you expected and you close your eyes in bliss as you earnestly suck on them. Eventually, he starts thrusting them in and out of you, tempo getting faster with every movement and you almost gag when he reaches further into your mouth than you ever could with your own. “Baby, you should see yourself. You look so pretty like this.”

When you moan around his fingers, he snickers. “Do you like it when I praise you? We haven’t even started and you’re already doing so well.”

The disappointment you feel when he pulls out is quickly replaced by even greater pleasure when he presses his thumb directly over the wet patch on your underwear. Hyunjin’s not even applying a lot of pressure, but you’re already at the brink of screaming. “So sensitive for me. Fuck, that’s so hot. So sensitive for me and only me,” he hisses while pulling your panties down.

The direct contact of his spit-covered finger just grazing your entrance sends you into overdrive. Even you yourself didn’t expect to be this hypersensitive to everything he does. You’re growing more vocal by the second and slap an arm in front of your mouth to muffle your sounds. However, he’s not having it and chastises, “Stop that. I want to hear your voice. Don’t hold back.”

You shiver at the authority in his tone and before your brain fully processed it, both of your hands are gripping the armrest as if it were your lifeline, the moans coming out of your mouth unfiltered. Hyunjin smirks. “That’s it, baby. Moan louder for me so that everyone in this building could hear you if the walls weren’t fucking soundproof.”

“Hyunjin, don’t tease me, please!” you shake violently, craving more than what he’s currently giving you. His little touches are too much yet not enough at the same time. Partly frustrated and partly needy, your sobs grow more uncontrolled and tears are already forming in your glassy eyes.

But no, Hyunjin is a cocky little shit who loves the sight of you struggling.

“Hm? But I like seeing you squirm like this. How long is it going to take until you start crying properly?”

“I knew it! I knew you’d be like this!” you cry accusingly, “I can’t, I can’t.”

“Why don’t you do anything against it, then? You’re holding back, it’s cute.”

“Because I— fuck, fu-u-uuck, s-stop it— wanna be good for you. I won’t misbehave, please master, allow me to cum—”

“What did you just call me?” Hyunjin is suddenly tense, stops with his ministrations and stares at you wide-eyed. You mirror his movements, just as perplexed by your words. You didn’t even mean it intentionally, it just slipped out. Sure, you knew that he had that superiority domination kink going on, but did he really enjoy being addressed as— “Say it again.”

You lick your lips and watch him closely. “Let me come, master.”

Hyunjin shudders visibly and the groan that escapes his mouth is raspy and deep and liquid sin. “Since you’re so good for me…” you yelp when he suddenly inserts two fingers into you, and fingers you in a rapid speed. It takes him roughly five thrusts until he finds your weak spot before he repeatedly pumps in and out in the same angle, emitting a sob from your side. “Is there anything else you imagined master doing to you?”

“Hands around… a-aa-ah shit— around my…” Hyunjin raises a brow when you reach out for his free hand and sloppily guide him to your throat. Stars fill your vision as he understands and wraps his fingers around your neck, the missing feeling of air making you light-headed. You weep out a silent cry when he moves his fingers even faster and applies slightly more pressure on your throat.

“Fuck, you look so good with my hand around your neck. What’s next? You want me to gag you with my fingers? Pull your hair when I’m fucking your mouth? Run my hands all over your body as you get yourself off on my thigh? You seem to be really fixated on my hands.”

Hyunjin’s words send you jolts of pleasure throughout your entire body. You don’t even register the intent behind what he says, too focused on all the other sensations. At this point you’re too far gone to keep holding onto any thread of rationality; the tears are gradually streaming down, your thighs are trembling and it hurts yet it doesn’t, and your orgasm hits you so hard you don’t even process it until your body starts to sting.

While you’re recovering from your high, Hyunjin picks up your cum on his fingers and licks it off thoughtfully, his eyes raking up and down your fingers. And then he asks in a manner way too casual for the situation, “How often can you cum, hm?”

You’re already fucked out by his fingers alone, and if he keeps it up, the answer is not a lot of times. Hell, you’re pretty sure your limit is two, but you answer tiredly with, “As many times as master wants me to.”

Hyunjin seems satisfied with the reply and then he gets up on his feet. Cluelessly, you send him mental question marks until he motions you to get up too. “What are you waiting for? Take my pants off.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You just notice now how constrained Hyunjin is underneath the jeans that hung on his hips. Wanting to free him out of his misery as fast as possible, you quickly unbuckle his belt and work on his zipper with the lightest amount of pressure you can muster. From there on, it doesn’t take long until you’ve pulled the fabric down alongside his boxers, revealing his hard length.

At the sight of his size, the precum pooling around his tip and the girth of his length, your mouth waters. “Can I suck you off?”

“I’d love that, but not today.” Hyunjin chuckles when your face drops and grabs your chin, his voice suddenly sultrier and a few intervals lower when he says, “Don’t look so disappointed. I know you’d do a great job. If I fucked your mouth without warning, you’d still take it, right? You wouldn’t deny an inch of my dick, would you? Even if you started to gag, you wouldn’t complain because you want to be good for master.”

He drops himself on the couch and the corners of his mouth crook upwards. “I just thought of something better. I bet you look so pretty bouncing on my cock.”

“Holy fuck,” you whisper. He’s right, that’s so much better than having his pulsing dick in your mouth. Fuck, you’ve been fantasizing about this for the past months after all. And just like that, he’s serving it all on a silver platter.

“C’mon, make me feel good,” he mumbles impatiently as he guides you onto his lap and pulls you in for a kiss. You melt into the kiss, let him abuse your lips up until they bleed if he fucking insists, before smearing precum all over his throbbing dick. Once he’s all slicked up, you raise yourself and sink on him, hissing uncontrollably once his head prods at your entrance.

Despite having him loosening you up a little before with his fingers, the stretch is so intense that you break the kiss and bury your face in the crook of his neck. You’re not the only one who’s affected this badly, as Hyunjin lets a particularly loud groan. “Fuck, you’re so tight. It’s like you were made for me. Be good for master and take me to the hilt, yeah?”

With that, he grips your hips so tightly that they form bruises, and slams you onto the rest of his dick. You stutter out a cry and more tears stream down your face. Hyunjin doesn’t give you time to adjust and lifts you up until only his head is still buried in you, only to push you down again immediately.

“God, you’re taking me in so well. Tell me, who’s making you feel this good?” he demands whilst continuing to manhandle you in this ruthless pace.

“You, master— a-aaa-ah, f-fuck— you’re making me feel this good, master!” you choke out, indulging the rough treatment. “You’re the only one who makes me feel so full!”

Hyunjin groans against you and begins to thrust his hips up into you like a madman. “You’re right, baby, only me huh—” he tugs on your hair with his one hand and kisses you in between your hiccups.

It’s hot, way too hot in here. The sound of skin slapping rings in your ears, as well as Hyunjin’s countless muffled praises. You’re both on edge, orgasm washing over you very soon. It’s prominent in the way Hyunjin’s movements grow more frantically, the way you cling onto him as if he were your saving grace, the way he rasps profanities in your ear.

“Cum for me, baby,” he pants, and it’s the one thrust that he delivers where he’s in you balls-deep and in the right angle that makes you come undone with a loud sob. Hyunjin helps you ride out your high before he pulls out of you completely and his release coats your stomach.

The next few moments are spent in silence, save for the harsh breathing. And then Hyunjin stands up to get a box of tissues next to the speakers and wipes off the cum on his abdomen before cleaning you up. You welcome his actions wholeheartedly, still basking in your post-orgasm bliss. Frankly, every inch of your body hurts and you’re damn sure you won’t be able to feel your legs until the end of the month.

“I’m pretty positive I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” you say once he’s done cleaning you up as much as he can with simple tissues and is now retrieving all the clothes on the floor.

“It’s what you deserve after putting yourself through your weird sex-deprivation thing,” he jokes and falls on the couch beside you, handing you your clothes and offering his water bottle. “Want some?”

You silently take the bottle and take three generous gulps out of it. “Not today. You said not today when I wanted you to suck you off.”

“I mean, if you’re up for a next time, that is. If yes, then cool. If not, that’s also fine by me.” The way he replies is so casual as if he didn’t get hard from being called master. “Anyway, let me help you get back to your clothes.”

“No cuddles? You are the worst in aftercare.”

“I was thinking of cuddling once we both look a tad more presentable, but go off,” he snorts. Nonetheless, he’s extremely gentle and careful when he helps you slip into your button-up. No words are exchanged all the while except for his soft apologies when you wince in pain because fuck, even lifting your legs hurts.

Hyunjin keeps his word. After fixing your hair to the best extent, he wraps an arm around your waist and you rest your head on his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat.

“I can’t believe we just fucked in the practice room,” he chuckles weakly. “If this becomes a regular thing, please let’s not do it in the practice room ever again. I work here.”

Of course you want this to be a regular thing. Fucking hell. But you don’t say that just yet. Instead, you opt for: “Well, if this becomes a regular thing, the dorms seem like a pretty sweet—”

“Absolutely not.”

You laugh quietly, but deep down inside you know he really wants to do that but doesn’t want to admit it out loud because Hyunjin’s a kinky little shit. “Whatever you say.”

Still, it’s a lot to process, everything that just happened. It’s so much that it drains you more than it should. Your eyes are starting to feel heavy and you sense yourself falling into a slumber. However, you still catch Hyunjin’s half exasperated, half panicked “don’t you dare fall asleep on me now, at least stay awake until we’re in my car!”

You’re not entirely certain if this is just your mind playing games on you or actual reality, but you like to believe that shortly after his outburst, Hyunjin kisses you fondly on the forehead and softly mumbles, “Whatever. Sleep tight, baby.”

#lulu end a story properly challenge failed i'm bad at this im so sorry idek #stray kids smut #skz smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #dom!hyunjin #sub!reader #smut.mine #hwang.txt #stray kids dark hours

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belladxne · 3 years

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i will see you where the shadow ends | chapter 7

[see notes for ao3 and ff links]

part of the put your faith in the light that you cannot see series AU: Breath of the Wild pairing: KiriBaku word count: 6,410

chapter 7: there's a shadow where I used to shine, that tries to hide behind the smoke

Eijiro wishes he could say he leaves soon after that. He knows how long it takes to complete shrines, generally, and he can’t really afford to linger just because he’s comforted by the presence of other people. He knows he has to get a move on.

But, yeah, that’s not what happens.

It takes a few minutes to stop chatting with Hirooki, and then, of course, upwards of an hour to finish the trial hidden in Ha Dahamar Shrine. And after that, he knows he should set off, but he figures the smart thing is to catch a wild horse and register it at the stable, first. After all, travel will be a lot faster with a horse, so this will save him time in the long run.

The problem he wasn’t foreseeing is that he doesn’t know how to catch a wild horse, and it turns out a few tips from the guy who runs the stable did not make him an expert. The horses are all skittish—way more skittish than he accounted for. That probably was true for wild horses at the best of times—but it’s probably way worse, now, with the countryside they roam being littered with way more monsters and dangers than it ever used to be.

Or maybe he’s just making excuses, because it takes him over an hour to catch a single horse. They stick together in small groups, presumably for safety, and several times he gets close to one, only for another to spook and send them all running. Most of the time, he doesn’t even get that close, though. Twice he manages to get on a horse, only for the animal to then buck him right back off.

It also doesn’t help that he lets himself get distracted and sidetracked often, catching just about any bug or small creature he spots, now that he knows they’re useful. Several times he’ll forget all about the horses he’s trying to sneak up on, just to grab a lizard or cricket that darts across his path. It’s not long before one of the compartments of his bag ends up loaded with dragonflies and frogs and tons of other potential elixir ingredients.

He’s battered and disheveled from being bucked off of horses’ backs by the time he finally pinpoints one, just far enough from the rest of its small herd to be easy to approach. And she actually seems to be strong, healthy, and built for speed—he’s not sure how he knows, but he must have spent enough time around horses before, that he can tell from watching for a minute or so if a horse would be reliable for travel or battle. This one has a deep, reddish-brown coat and a white mane, and he can tell already that she’s probably one of the most reliable wild horses he’s laid eyes on today.

This one, finally, he manages to vault himself onto the back of and hold on tight, clinging and desperately trying to soothe the horse until she finally calms enough to accept his presence.

It’s somewhere around half past four in the afternoon when he finally rides up to the stable, exhausted and harried but triumphant as he announces his horse’s name as Riot and waits for them to outfit her with a saddle and reins once they’ve registered her.

He’d like a few more minutes to take a breather after the effort that went into the near two hours he spent chasing horses and bugs alike, but he’s wasted enough time. He stays still long enough to feed Riot a couple of apples from his bag in attempt to win her over, and then he’s swinging up into the saddle and urging her north, down the road to Kakariko Village.

Within five minutes of riding, Eijiro can tell he’s made a good choice—or, got lucky with which horse he was able to get alone, more like. Either way, he picks up quickly on the fact that Riot has remarkable endurance, and that she’s faster than most of the horses he’d seen so far, too. If he can get her to warm all the way up to him, the extra time spent falling on his ass trying to catch a horse might turn out to have been a more than worthwhile investment.

The first leg of the ride goes fantastic—better than fantastic. Riot travels so much faster than Eijiro could, of course, and the road to Kakariko is completely clear of monsters. And from Riot’s saddle, Eijiro can’t really give into the temptation to snatch up any mushroom or herb he sees growing along the side of the road. Not as easily, at least.

He closes half the distance left to Kakariko in what feels like no time, flying past the scenery at a gratifying pace with hardly any stops. The sun has dipped below the horizon, though the sky still clings to as much of the daylight as it can, before something finally grinds his progress to a halt.

There’s… well, he doesn’t know what to call it, up ahead. It looks like a round little tree on legs. It looks like a huge, fat Korok. The creature—he’s guessing it must be a Korok, albeit a particularly massive one, bigger than fifteen or twenty normal Koroks all put together—has the same light wooden skin, and a massive leaf around its nose that almost resembles a beard as well as some impressive eyebrows that look like carved wood protruding from its face. He also carries a satchel that, Eijiro realizes as he gets closer, is of the same material and make as the enchanted bag that had once been Izuku’s.

Eijiro remembers what the first Korok had said—that the seeds were for Hestu, who Eijiro wouldn’t be able to miss. You’ll know him when you see him, were the spirit’s exact words. This… was a pretty distinctive Korok. Eijiro pulls the reins to get Riot to stop before the Korok, who stands just to the side of the road, looking… well, he thinks he looks sad, maybe?

It’s hard to read the expressions and body language of the forest spirits, since their faces are just leaves that don’t really shift much from expression to expression, but he does look a little slumped over and unsure, Eijiro thinks, as he slides out of Riot’s saddle to talk to the large spirit. He doesn’t even get a word out before the Korok is straightening up in surprise.

“Shalaka?!” the thing says, incomprehensibly. Eijiro blinks, but before he can form a response, the Korok is continuing in his high-pitched voice, “You! You can see me?!”

“Uh… well, yeah,” Eijiro responds, scratching at the back of his neck. When he opens his mouth to ask if this guy is, in fact, Hestu, the Korok throws his stubby wooden arms up in delight and interrupts Eijiro with a bizarre little song made up of similarly incomprehensible syllables.

“It’s been a hundred years since anyone has been able to see me!” the Korok announces, upon completion of his odd little song. “I’m Hestu, and I need your help!”

Well—that solves that mystery. Eijiro doesn’t even blink at the way the Korok just assumes, immediately, that he’s able and willing to help. Mostly because he is both of those things.

“Those monsters over there stole my beloved maracas!” Hestu says, slumping over sadly with a gesture much farther up the road, apparently not particularly invested in giving Eijiro time to get a word in. There are no monsters in sight where he’d gestured, but Eijiro’s sure he’ll run into them when he gets that far. “I think they’re still there on the other side of those rocks up the hill.”

Eijiro nods firmly, still trying to make out where ‘those rocks’ are, if not where the monsters themselves are, when Hestu says something that instantly catches Eijiro’s interest.

“I can’t use my powers without them. Shoko...” Powers? He’s got powers? Maraca powers? Eijiro wants to see what that looks like. “So please! Please get my maracas back from them.”

“Of course,” Eijiro says, because it’s not like he hasn’t already fought monsters nearly every step of this trip. And with how much time he saved riding Riot instead of walking, he can afford the delay and still make it to Kakariko at a reasonable time. Not that he would have been able to leave this dude hanging without feeling unbearably guilty and turning back to help, anyways.

“Sha-shaka!” Hestu sing-songs, probably as thanks? Eijiro has just resigned himself to never having any idea what’s happening when he’s talking to Koroks.

Swinging himself back up into Riot’s saddle, Eijiro coaxes her forward at a trot. For the most part, the right of the path is open to the air, the ground falling away at a steep incline, but after about five minutes of riding, the path starts to close up ahead.

He knew it would eventually—he remembers, somehow, that Kakariko is nestled in the mountains, the path a fairly level road that had been worn through the steep hills and mountains of the area. Even if he doesn’t ever remember coming to Kakariko before, he’s got enough knowledge of the landscape that he thinks he probably must have. So it’s not a surprise when the road curves into the hills, natural walls forming on either side of the path.

And there—just as the hill forms its steep cliff as a wall on the right side of the path, there’s an opening. It seems open on the other side, so it’s not quite a cave, though it’s got a roof in the form of a boulder that must have lodged itself at the top of the opening at some point. But Eijiro guesses the rocky slopes are what Hestu meant when he said the other side of those rocks.

Climbing off of Riot, Eijiro moves around in front of the mare, running a hand soothingly down her face and receiving a gentle headbutt to the chest in response.

“Stay here a few moments, okay?” he requests, though he knows she’s not likely to understand him. Still, he pulls an apple out of his bag as a bribe and lets her munch on it, hoping it will at least endear him to her enough to keep her here waiting for him, in hopes of getting more apples out of him.

With that, he turns to the natural archway, draws his sword, and gets ready to go to work.

The worst part about this is that it should have been so easy.

It was only three bokoblins—sure, their fur had turned blue with maturity, so they were generally stronger and more intelligent than the red ones he’s encountered more often so far, but he fought a few already just on the way here! Several monster camps he’s fought had five or six bokoblins, even if most of them were still young and red-furred.

He’s already fought enemies stronger than this, this should not have been a problem for him.

And for a second, he really believed it wouldn’t be. He dispatched the first of the three before the group even realized he was on them, and turned to the others without much concern. Sure, it was two on one, and there wasn’t much room to maneuver in this pocket between the hills and the cliffside down, but he’d thought he’d had it.

That’s when it happens—the bokoblin wielding a spear lunges for him. It drives its spear downwards over its head and Eijiro tries to twist out of the way, but he just—he just screws up. His foot gets caught in a dip in the ground, his ankle twisting painfully as he dodges away, and in the moment of indignation and incredulity that he’d made such a rookie slip-up, the other bokoblin strikes.

Eijiro sees the boko bat swinging towards his face a split-second too late, and his ankle buckles when he tries to stagger back. He doesn’t get out of the way fast enough, and the bat comes slamming into his temple at almost full force. For a hot second, Eijiro sees stars, falling onto his ass hard. Dazed, he tries to blink the starbursts of color out of his vision, wincing as the bokoblin that just landed a hit roars at him.

He barely rolls out of the way of the next strike, and for a brief second the quick motion makes him so dizzy he thinks he’ll fall over, but it’s not exactly an option. Fuck, he has to end this now.

Eijiro swings the flat of his blade at the legs of the nearest bokoblin. With a yelp, the thing’s legs are swept out from under it, and it drops. Eijiro doesn’t wait for an invitation as he lunges forward, flipping the blade down to impale the creature.

Its last living companion is already brandishing its spear, so Eijiro doesn’t bother to dislodge the sword. He vaults over the body and throws himself into a clumsily-executed roll on the other side to buy some distance—and, fuck, his head hates that, oh, Gods, he might hurl. He unslings his bow from his back as he comes up from the roll, arrow drawn, nocked, and loosed almost immediately.

His arrow hits right between the last bokoblin’s eyes, and it falls atop the last one with little ceremony.

Eijiro drops more gently—his head is screaming at him, and it’s been jostled enough, so he lets himself flop down onto the grass beside the monsters’ campfire slowly. Lifting a hand to his head, he whines. Not only is a nasty bump already forming, but there’s a gash there as well, and Eijiro has a sick feeling in his gut.

The bokoblins are already starting to disappear, leaving him the only one sprawled out in his misery—whatever they are, this is the main thing that’s always set them apart from the other creatures that roam Hyrule.

They’re not made of anything substantial, apparently, possibly or even probably created entirely from the same Malice that had distorted All for One into the Calamity it is today. And since they aren’t natural beings, having only Malice holding them together, as soon as they’re slain they just—turn into an awful sludgy smoke and dissipate like they were never there. Apart from some stronger and older ones, who have parts that stubbornly cling to existence. Fangs, horns, maybe a heart from time to time, which, ew.

He knows all this, without remembering having learned it, just like he knows how to fight. Or, at least, is supposed to. That was so stupid. It was just three blue bokoblins. How can he not even handle three blue bokoblins?

Frustration swirls around in his chest, and he grits his teeth. He wants to scream. He should be better than this. How can—how can he even hope to help Katsuki and Izuku if he gets his ass kicked this easily? Fuck—they need him, and they’ve been fighting the entire Calamity for a century, and he can’t even—he can’t even hold his own for a few days against weak enemies. Gods, he hopes Katsuki can’t see him right now. With all of his heart, he desperately hopes it.

He squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his hands to them so hard he sees bursts of color behind his eyelids, in attempt to block out the light from the campfire that’s agitating his budding headache.

Gods, he hopes the chest the bokoblins had kept up on a platform at the back of their camp holds the maracas. If they’re not even here, he’s gonna scream.

But quietly. In his head. So he doesn’t make his headache any worse.

Eijiro’s headache is absolutely killing him, and he is, in a word, miserable.

Hestu had been so happy to see his maracas, it honestly made everything worth it. The problem was Hestu had been very vocal about his appreciation. The happy yelling and singing had been bad enough. The maraca-ing, once the two had discovered the seeds Eijiro had been gathering from the Koroks that dotted nearly every inch of Hyrule were actually stolen from inside Hestu’s maracas and would need to be returned, was kind of worse.

Eijiro hadn’t raised a complaint, though. Partially because he wasn’t heartless enough to ruin Hestu’s joyful new mood, and also because he used his maraca powers to make Eijiro’s new bag even bigger. He’s not sure how much more he can stuff in there now, but he thinks he’ll be excited to find out once he’s recovered a little.

For now, he’s tired and miserable as he continues up the road, keeping Riot at a slower pace to keep from bouncing his head around too much. For the first time since leaving the plateau, anxiety gnaws at him more than impatience as he thinks about his destination.

It’s not particularly late—maybe around seven, if he were to guess—and he knows he could make it to Kakariko within the hour. Maybe even within half an hour if he really pushed it, which he doesn’t think he has it in him to do. But the thought fills him with apprehension and—and something almost like shame, he thinks, as he considers it. He swallows, shifting in the saddle uncomfortably.

Inko had said that Aizawa had been an advisor to Katsuki. He’d—he’d been around one hundred years ago, and must have known about the plan for Eijiro to return. He was supposed to have advice for Eijiro, to help him help Katsuki and Izuku, but—

But how can Eijiro ride into a town where they know him, where they’re expecting such important things from him, looking like this? He doesn’t want to limp into town with a shoddily-bandaged gash on his head, looking half-dead on his feet. That’s not—that won’t—he doesn’t want to let them down.

He doesn’t want to hobble into town, wincing every step, and be told—oh, sorry. You’re in no shape to do this. I can’t believe we waited one hundred years for this. Don’t worry, though, we’ll find someone else to handle it.

He needs—he has to help Katsuki. He can’t let someone else keep fighting this battle for him—like Izuku had to, just because he was another chosen of Farore. And he definitely doesn’t want to ride into town and disappoint people who expected him to be the hero they’d waited so long for.

Just the thought of going into the village like this nearly paralyzes him. He just—he just needs a good night’s sleep, maybe; some time for the wounds to heal a little, or at least be somewhat less fresh when he gets there. He knows part of his dragon ancestry left him with the ability to heal faster than most people, at least he might be able to hide the pain in his ankle after a rest, and the swelling on his head might have gone down.

Yeah—yeah, that sounds like a better idea. The part of him that’s been so frustrated with his slow progress at least quiets down, just a little, for once. It’s just… it’s just one night, and if the result is that no one has to know how much weaker he is than he should be, it’s worth it.

He doesn’t know where else might be safe to stop, secluded from the road and tucked away, so Eijiro climbs off of Riot where the monster camp he’d cleared out for Hestu was, coaxing her through the archway to where the camp rests. The campfire the monsters had set is down to embers at this point, but that’ll be easy enough to fix.

Eijiro goes about setting up camp, rekindling the fire, and roasting some low-effort dinner with as much laziness as he can manage. If he can cut a corner, he does. All he cares about is not making his ankle or head worse, getting a full stomach in hopes that’ll give him some extra energy for healing, and knocking the fuck out.

The process is maybe twenty minutes at most, and the soft grass beside the fire is so much more comfortable than the cold stone he’d slept on last night. If not for the headache still pulsing mutedly behind his temple, he might consider this downright blissful.

He feels like there’s something he’s supposed to keep in mind, something important, but he’s too exhausted and frustrated to bother. Drifting off quickly, he figures he’ll remember in the morning if it matters. And then he’s out.

…—up already, asshole! Come on. Gods, you lazy—wake up, fucker!

Eijiro groans, turning his head as if to burrow it into the soft grass it’s pillowed on, like that can muffle Katsuki’s voice harassing him. Exhaustion blankets over him heavily, and the only thing even vaguely resembling a thought in his head is the desire to go back to sleep. His body feels like it’s made of lead and his eyes might as well be welded shut—it’d be so easy to drift off again, if not for the voice still pressing insistently at the edges of his mind.

Ei, come on, we don’t have time for this. Get ready.

An exhausted, pathetic huff escapes Eijiro in his irritation, his whole body tensing like if he curls in on himself enough he can block out any semblance of consciousness and go back to sleep, before falling slack in resignation, his eyes blearily cracking open.

And—oh, fuck.

He’s surrounded by red. Fuck, when he blinks his eyes a little farther open, the whole sky glows with it.

All for One’s getting stronger, asshole—he gets too fucking powerful during the blood moon. Which is right fucking now, by the way, which you’d notice if you would get the hell up.

The fucking blood moon! Shit, Hirooki had even warned him, and he still—he still went to sleep in a monster camp. In a split-second, panic pumps enough adrenaline into his veins that moving suddenly doesn’t seem like such a monumental effort as he scrambles to his feet.

Finally, fuck. For the first time, he notices how panicked Katsuki had sounded, only in its absence as relief colors his tone instead. You’ve only got about a minute. All for One uses the peak of the blood moon to bring its fucking cannon fodder back—be careful, dumbass, your ass is about to be surrounded.

Any lingering anger at having been woken up so rudely—and with so many insults, which, rude—evaporates instantly as it sinks in that Katsuki probably just saved his life. He draws his sturdiest sword and experimentally puts some weight on his bad ankle, which, ow, fuck, still hurts, but it’s better off than it was earlier and he thinks he’ll be able to move on it if he’s careful.

“Thanks,” he says, hoping Katsuki can hear him, as he readies his stance. Before his eyes, cinders of murky black Malice start rising off of the ground, drifting through the air all around. He doesn’t even think he’s ever seen the substance except when monsters first fade into clouds of it and dissipate—but now it hangs heavy all throughout the air, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

Gaze analytical, he watches some of the Malice in the air swirl together in three different places around the campfire, merging into murky clouds that start to take on the shape of the bokoblins he’d handled earlier.

His sword is swinging for the nearest bokoblin almost before it begins forming, and he settles in for a fight.

It’s over fast. Maybe he accounted better for his ankle this time, or maybe he’s finally used to not fighting at full strength, or maybe it’s as simple as this time he was lucky and last time he wasn’t—whatever the case, it’s only a couple minutes before he’s standing triumphant again, this time without any more injuries to show for it.

Heaving slightly, he sheathes his sword and edges away from the monsters that had very nearly ambushed him in his sleep. As far as he knows, the whole monsters rising from the dead thing only happens once, at midnight, and won’t be happening again until the next blood moon—that said, he honestly does not want to take his chances. Even if the heavy presence of Malice clouding the air has finally dissipated.

He doesn’t think he can comfortably sleep next to this fire anymore anyways, without paranoia keeping him awake for hours.

“Hey...” he speaks into the night, still breathless from exertion as his eyes flick vaguely skyward, sort of in the direction of Hyrule Castle, though the hills block his view. “I don’t… uh, I don’t know if you heard me before, but I mean it. Thank you. I—you probably saved my life.”

He waits, eyes searching the righted sky, like the returned navy and the light of the stars can somehow provide him with a view of Katsuki. When no response comes, Eijiro feels his expression grow pinched, and he sighs as he drops his gaze to the grass.

He’s… tired. Frustrated. He’s only gotten four hours of sleep, his ankle still aches, his head still pulses and sends waves of nausea through him if he moves it too quickly, and he just wants to hear Katsuki’s voice again. It’s all he has of him at this point—he can’t even remember a face to put to it. To say he’s in a miserable mood would be an understatement.

Riot still hasn’t settled down where he’d had her tethered near the archway, a distressed whinny snapping him out of his disheartened ruminating, and he approaches her carefully, still unsteady on the injured ankle. The mare rears back on her hind legs, braying—being startled awake by reforming monsters and a sudden fight had clearly been just as upsetting for her, and Eijiro can hardly fault her.

“Hey, hey, sh-sh-sh-sh, it’s okay, girl,” he soothes, hands raised placatingly as he stays out of reach of her hooves. The last thing he needs after surviving those monsters twice is for his own horse to brain him less than an hour from Kakariko Village. Continuing to make soothing noises, he inches closer, digging around in his bag for one of his last apples. “Sorry, Riot, it’s okay now, hey, hey, calm down.”

Even once he’s brandished the apple, waving it before her temptingly, it’s a few moments before he can get her settled enough that it’s safe to get closer. His free hand strokes comfortingly down the line of her nose and over her neck as he feeds her the apple, and it’s another minute of murmured words and gentle strokes before she’s genuinely more calm.

He gets another headbutt to the chest, but this time it feels more scolding than affectionate, which he figures is fair.

With a sigh, Eijiro unties her lead from the tree just on the inside of the natural rock arch, and coaxes her through the opening back to the road. He feels even worse about going to Kakariko now, grumpy in the middle of the night, with his ankle and head still hurt, but even if he won’t go all the way to the Sheikah village he at least wants to get a decent distance away from here. He’s not going to be able to get any more much-needed rest, otherwise.

Pulling himself up and into the saddle, to get weight off his leg, Eijiro urges Riot forward at a slow pace. He only rides two or three minutes, just enough to be out of sight of the archway, and then he finds a curve in the winding, steep walls of the mountain pass to settle himself and Riot into.

It’s not nearly as sheltered, but he’s exhausted, and it’ll do. Curled up as comfortably as he can get, Eijiro pillows his head on the warm doublet Inko had given him and lets himself drift off into a restless sleep for the rest of the night.

The morning’s still fresh by the time Eijiro wakes up, groggy and still wishing for a few more hours of sleep. All told, though, he’d already gotten at least nine hours, even if the break in the middle did him no favors, and he doesn’t want to risk sleeping out in the open for any longer.

His ankle is still stiff, but no longer painful as long as he’s careful about putting his weight on it, and when he gingerly touches at his temple he discovers the bump has gone down significantly, even if the gash there hasn’t quite healed. It’s fine. It’s better than arriving in the haggard state from last night, at least.

He sets off quickly, only stopping once along the way when he comes across a small waterfall feeding into a little pool beside the road. He wades in and washes up somewhat, cleaning up his appearance as best he can in the cold mountain water, pulling his hair back into a ponytail, and then carrying on once Riot’s drunk her fill.

The roads of the pass open into the sheltered valley that houses Kakariko abruptly. If not for the wooden gates that the Sheikah had constructed further along the road, there would have been no warning that the steep, closed walls of the road were about to split off.

Eijiro pulls on Riot’s reins, coaxing her to a stop at the entrance to the village, on the railed pathway that overlooks the entirety of the settlement. Kakariko is a sleepy little village, safely ringed in by the walls of the mountains on all sides, and something about the cluster of houses with their curved thatch roofs brings him no small measure of comfort. The last of his bad mood seeps away, his eyes drinking in this proof that some things have survived the Calamity with eagerness.

There’s an elderly woman resting beside a tree a little ways along the road, who greets Eijiro warmly, pulling herself to her feet with some effort. She apologizes for letting him see her in her current state, explaining that she’s twisted her ankle—”It happens to the best of us,” Eijiro’s quick to tell her, the irony not lost on him—and then he’s sliding off of Riot to offer to let the woman ride his horse back to her house, to keep the weight off her ankle. She’s mid-sentence thanking him when her eyes land on the Sheikah Slate on his hip, and her eyes widen.

When she asks where he got it, Eijiro barely even starts to explain before she’s grabbing Riot’s reins, nodding in apparent understanding and insisting he get to Aizawa’s home immediately. She promises to board his horse for him at the inn, so long as he hurries to the large house below Lantern Falls, across the village, because the Sheikah have been waiting for him for a long time.

As she pulls herself into the saddle, she implores him one more time to hurry to Aizawa, before surprising him with a heartfelt declaration that she’s honored to meet him, though she thinks he’s probably used to hearing that. He’s not, and he doesn’t know what to say—but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything before she urges Riot on down the road, apparently intent on not keeping him any longer.

It’s still fairly early, maybe not much after eight, but the village already maintains a constant, if slow and sparse, press of activity—a couple of kids are strewn along the main road, as well as a girl around his age who’s just settling in to stand outside what looks like a shop, and Eijiro passes by a farmer hard at work in a pumpkin patch.

Everyone he passes eyes him as he makes his way down the road, most with curiosity and some with suspicion, but every once in a while someone’s eyes will drop to the slate at his hip and their eyes will widen, expression shifting quickly to awe. Flustered, Eijiro averts his gaze and quickens his pace.

Aizawa’s home is pretty hard to miss, built high on stilts over an island that sits at the foot of several waterfalls, in the protective curve of one of the steep valley walls. There’s one important-looking set of stairs that leads up to the raised balcony that wraps around the house, with a gate that arches over the foot of the stairway.

The two men standing guard just beside the gate instantly drop into defensive stances when they realize he means to make for the gate, and Eijiro lifts his hands placatingly, letting out a startled, “Um,” but the motion draws their eyes to where his hands had been resting. More specifically, to the Sheikah Slate.

Both men gasp, and then apologies are tumbling from their lips as they straighten their stances, moving aside to usher him through. Eijiro can’t even get more than a few words out to try and reassure them of no harm, no foul, without them insisting he go on ahead and assuring him that they’ve heard all about him from Aizawa.

It’s kind of overwhelming. He doesn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t for people to all recognize him on sight and treat him so—so—important. Being told they’re honored to meet him and have heard legends about him—it’s a lot.

It makes him feel exposed as he makes his way up the stairs, each step feeling too loud—like anyone in the village could look over and see him at any moment, and maybe come to the conclusion that he’s some sort of huge deal.

He keeps his eyes on his feet as he climbs, just in case, because he’s not sure how he’s gonna handle it if he makes eye contact with one more awestruck Sheikah, until he’s finally near the top of the staircase. His eyes lift, and Eijiro blinks at the sight that greets him—there’s a little girl, maybe six or so, sitting on her knees, several pieces of colored chalk scattered in front of her. She’s got long white hair characteristic of the Sheikah, and a very concentrated look on her little face as she draws on a pillar just left of the patterned double doors to the building with a piece of yellow chalk.

The second to last step creaks under Eijiro’s foot, and the girl gasps and startles, whipping to look at him with wide, red eyes. She drops the piece of chalk in the process, and Eijiro leans quickly to catch it when it rolls towards him, so that it doesn’t fall off the edge of the deck.

“Sorry, sorry!” he says, gently, giving her his widest, friendliest smile. She still looks alarmed as she stares at him, so he doesn’t move too close when he climbs the final two steps, crouching just on the edge of arm’s reach to hold out the piece of chalk. “I didn’t mean to scare you! Wasn’t trying to be sneaky.”

Her eyes, still wide, flick from the piece of chalk to his face a few times, and her hands clasp tightly at the hem of her tunic instead of moving to take it back from him. Now he feels really guilty, and his smile turns apologetic as he carefully sets the piece of chalk down halfway between them. Still hoping to put her at ease, he turns his head instead to examine her handiwork.

It’s crude in the usual way little kids’ drawings are, but it’s colorful and cute, and there are five figures all scrawled along the deep brown pillar. Four of them are all holding hands—one he imagines is the little girl herself, since the white-haired figure is so small compared to the others, which include a taller white-haired figure and two more yellow-haired, adult-sized figures, all of them in the approximate colors of Sheikah clothing. The fifth figure is above, with long blue hair and big blue wings.

He lets out a low whistle, curious what the scene represents.

“That’s really cool,” he tells her earnestly, jerking a thumb towards the drawing as he continues to squat just before her, expression open and, hopefully, reassuring. “Do you live here?”

She still doesn’t answer him, biting her lip, but after a moment she gives a small nod and leans forward cautiously to grab the piece of chalk. The motion causes some of her hair to fall into her face, and as it falls forward he notices something peeking through the white locks—a tiny, pale horn.

“Hey, nice horn! Wanna see something cool?” he asks her, beaming, before he hardens scales around the top of his head, red dragonscales curling around his temples and along his hairline as two small, draconic horns peak out of his hairline in similar places to hers. “I can have ‘em, too! Horn buddies! I’m Kirishima Eijiro, it’s nice to meet you.”

Something about the phrase, horn buddies, it sends a pang of—of something through him, something soft and nostalgic, but before he can examine the feeling, the little girl’s eyes are widening once more, her eyes flicking from his horns, to his hair, to the slate on his hip before her mouth falls open into a tiny little o.

Great. Even the little kids know who he is here. That’s gonna take some getting used to.

She keeps staring at him, clutching her piece of chalk tightly in her hand, and Eijiro sighs when he realizes he’s probably not gonna coax any words out of her. With one more smile sent her way, he rocks back on his heels before standing, giving her a little wave. “Well, I’m gonna go inside now, okay?”

She nods again, which he’ll take as the biggest victory he’s gonna get, and then Eijiro turns to the double doors, taking a deep breath before placing his hands on them and pushing them both open at once.

Inside is a large, open hall, with several cushions lined up in rows for many people to sit at, and across the room rests a very haggard-looking man. At first, Eijiro thinks he’s asleep, but when he takes a couple steps into the hall, the man—Aizawa, probably—speaks without even opening his eyes.

“So, you’re finally awake.”

Slowly cracking an eye open, the Sheikah shifts forward in his seat with all the zeal of a man still mostly asleep.

“It’s been a long time, Kirishima Eijiro.”

#kiribaku #bakushima #krbk #bkshm #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijiro #bakugo katsuki #boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #mha #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

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firebrands · 5 years

Text

stevetony fic recs

BUCKLE UP MY DUDES THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG ONE

here are my recs for steve/tony fics that i seriously think need a ton more love! (aka, have less than a 1k kudos lol)

starts w angsty recs, then fluff, then pwps

Pyriscence by @nostalgicatsea, 6.9k, MCU

written pre-release of endgame, but damn. so good. i cried.

She also knows this: Tony handed over his heart to Steve—to all of them but most of all to Steve—along with the keys to his house the day he recruited them.

Even if Steve knew that, Natasha isn’t sure he would keep it anyway. She knows he thinks himself undeserving.

She knows it’s because he loves Tony.

A Long, Lonely Time by asktheravens, 58.5k, MCU

holy SHIT, this was a WILD FUCKING RIDE. totally unique.

Author’s summary: Steve returned from the war injured in body and mind- and able to see the dead. At loose ends and desperate to get out of New York City, he accepts a fellowship through the Stark Foundation and retreats to a quiet lake house on the grounds of the Stark Mansion. He's supposed to be there to paint, but he quickly realizes that the house is more than he bargained for. Anthony Stark died here a decade ago, but was it an accident? A suicide? Or a murder? Obadiah Stane still lives in the main house just up the hill, and the past casts a long shadow.

A Cabin in the Woods by nightwalker @onemuseleft, 26.7k, MCU I really don't want to spoil this but this fic has it ALL - fluff, funny dialogue, and ELDRITCH HORRORS

Author’s summary: It was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, a chance for them to spend some time as a couple and work out some of the kinks in their relationship. That was before everything got weird.

Steve Rogers is a Tactical Genius by @swankyo0, 2.6k, MCU

I love when Steve is assertive and knows what he’s doing (in terms of romancing Tony)

“What’s up, Cap?” Tony’s voice is light but Steve can tell it’s forced.

“Tony Stark, you and I are going out,” Steve starts, his voice a bit more commanding than he had planned. “We are going to get dinner at a nice place, and I’m going to open doors for you and let you pay because you are a stubborn ass. I’m going to bring you a gift and you are going to accept it because I am a stubborn ass. And at the end of the night I am going to walk you to your door and there will be a kiss good night, because I’m gonna do this right, damn it.”

when i run out of road, you bring me home by @quidhitch, 18.4k, MCU

Tony buys a farm. Steve lives in the farm beside Tony's. (Featuring: Riri Williams!)

“It’s no use trying to keep him out, Tony supposes. He learned a long time ago that he could plaster his whole body with signage declaring ‘WARNING: HAZARDOUS MATERIAL’, and it would only further tempt Steve Rogers’ self-immolating tendencies.”

call me, maybe by ohmyloki @bootycap, 1.8k, MCU

Tony hums, bouncing up to the balls of his feet for a second as he looks around the gallery. “I’ve got an idea.”

Steve narrows his eyes at him. “I’ve only just met you but I get the feeling that phrase tends to get you in trouble.”

Tony laughs, and Steve’s heart does what feels like a little pirouette in his chest.

“You have no idea how right you are, Steve.”

There’s a deep sense of satisfaction in the way Tony says his name. He wants to hear it again. Which is partly why he can’t be blamed for what comes out of his mouth next.

let me be the one (who never leaves you all alone) by ohmyloki @bootycap, 11.7k, MCU

It was Tony’s wide, brilliant eyes, the rare full-blown smile when he’d accomplished something he’d struggled with, the way he couldn’t seem to stop himself from talking when he came up with a new idea and wanted to show off. Like an excited little kid, ever at odds with the man who drank too much and thought too little of himself. These thoughts of Tony’s kindness, generosity and brilliant mind ran an undercurrent beneath the fantasy of Tony’s slick, tanned skin, and perfectly shaped upper lip. That was when it struck Steve.

Maybe he could have this. Maybe he could have Tony... if Tony would have him.

Get Down On Your Knees And Tell Me You Love Me by @heartsandmuses, 5.1k, MCU

Author’s summary: When Steve opens the page to this month’s calendar, he freezes as he catches sight of a reminder in the space for next Friday, exactly a week from now. PROPOSAL!

Motherlode by nanasekei @elcorhamletlive, 6.8k, MCU

Author’s summary: After Steve returns, though they've made up, his relationship with Tony remains distant.

“Great,” Steve says, smiling brightly, and Tony can’t, he just can’t handle that smile. It makes him want to float and giggle and dance and do all sorts of crazy things. It makes him want to kiss Steve.

He clutches his hands, giving in to one indulgence over the insane, dangerous other. “Awesome. That’s, that’s awesome.” Then, out of sheer despair, he reaches for another salmon roll, popping it in his mouth.

On the plus side, it gives something to busy his mouth with that isn’t, you know, Steve’s lips. On the down side, he’s now awkwardly chewing with a full mouth in front of Steve.

That seems to remind Steve of the forgotten pig-in-a-blanket on his hand, and he hurriedly eats it, cheeks flushing a little.

So now they’re both chewing. It’s great.

if I time it right, the thunder breaks (when I open my mouth) by nanasekei @elcorhamletlive, 11.9k, MCU

Or: Five Times Steve told Tony he loved him, and one time he didn't need to.

“That is the most ridiculous thing anyone has ever done for me.” He pauses for a moment, winded, and Tony looks at him now, mouth curling to fight back what Steve knows would be a self-satisfied smile. “I love you.”

Tony freezes.

Steve… Steve wonders for a second what the best course of action would be, going through all the options, including running to the garden and asking Thor to drown him in the pool for good. He has no idea why it slips out now, exactly, but at this point he has no idea what tiny thing Tony is going to do that’s going to cause a fluttering feeling in his chest.

Strategic Thinking: Armor Wars Edition by Annie D (scaramouche) @no-gorms, 1.8k, Avengers Academy

Tony tries to pull his hand away, but it’s half-hearted. Tony’s neck is flushed pink, which Steve finds far more charming that he probably should. But that’s all right – it’s Tony, who makes Steve think all sorts of things he’d never before.

Every True Thing by @dirigibleplumbing, 3.9k, MCU

Author’s summary: After escaping captivity, Steve and Tony go to a safe house. Ordinarily, it would just be boring. But they’ve both been dosed with truth serum…

“You like it, then?”

“Of course I like it, it’s you.”

“But, I don’t want you to like it just because it’s me, I want you to like it because I’m good at it. You’re good at it, you—know what you’re doing.” Steve blurts this into Tony’s neck, glad that he doesn’t have to look Tony in the face while he speaks.

Mission: Improbable by @cptxrogers, 5.6k, Avengers Assemble Author's summary: Tony is called on to investigate strange events which have been occurring in the upper echelons of society recently. There's just one small issue - he needs Steve to pose as his date for the evening.

Tony glanced around. “I think they’ve moved on. We can get back to work now.” “Are you sure?” Steve asked, a little too quickly. Perhaps the men might still be around. Perhaps might come back. Perhaps they’d need to hide by kissing some more.

Steve Rogers Does (Not Do) Marriage Counseling by Neverever @captainneverever , 6.4k, MCU

Tony stared incredulously at Steve. “Are you that dense?” “No,” Steve replied miserably. “Basically, you’re telling me that you wouldn’t know what to do if someone made a pass at you.” “I wouldn’t know what a pass is or was. That’s what I’m saying.” “So you wouldn’t call shoving your hand on my ass a pass?”

The Fear of Consequences by @keptein, 4.5k, MCU Author's summary: It really isn't a problem. Then one day, Tony looks at Steve and thinks, shit. It might be mutual.

“Cap,” Tony says helplessly. The tomatoes roll around on the brown tile, barely visible in the tower's automatic night light settings.

Steve looks angry, and Tony's suddenly reminded that shit, this guy fought in World War II. It's not usually something you can see on his face. “Why are you avoiding me?” he asks, without preamble, eyes never leaving Tony's face.

“I.. haven't been?” It comes out a question, which really wasn't what Tony wanted at all. “I mean, I haven't been avoiding you, of course I haven't. I've just been busy, you know, Iron Man maintenance, and just because Pepper's CEO of Stark Industries now doesn't mean I don't have to do shit, unfortunately.“ He bends down to avoid Steve's stare and starts to pick up the tomatoes, until he feels Steve's large, warm hand on his shoulder. It startles him into looking up, still bent down with his hand reaching for a tomato. “Cap,” Tony says, and is absurdly proud when the name doesn't lose its warning tint.

Together, At Dawn by RoseGoldAmpersand, 8.1k, MCU

Lingering in his past and missed opportunities, Steve was overcome with the urge to check in on his teammate. As team captain, it was the right thing to do. Nobody would know he had taken a detour. Nobody would suspect he lingered because he ached to see Tony look at him again with eyes bright with friendship. If he couldn't help his Tony, he was making damn sure this Tony knew that Steve Rogers would always be there for him.

a properly scholarly attitude by goodmorningbeloved, 2.9k, college AU

“You were thinking of something. I knew that look, what was—”

“You,” he answers without hesitation. “I was thinking of you. How good you look with those on, how—” He bites his own lip hard, angling his head away from Tony’s kiss in shame. “I— Tony, you’re tired, and we’re in the library—”

Wash That Man (right out of my hair) by @mizzy2k, 7k, comics - 616, sorta pwp?

Holy shit. Holy shit. He'd assumed when Tony said he had a brand new body that it was a metaphor, a dramatic exaggeration, not a completely new unrecognizable-as-Tony-Stark body.

“Hey, Cap!” Tony beams widely at him, his mustache twitching with the smile. “Fancy meeting you here!”

“Haha,” Steve says, “yeah.” Smooth. That’s Steve Rogers for you. Eloquent under pressure.

Nicotine Hit by @festiveferret, 7.5k, MCU, pwp

The idea of Steve smoking in secret wormed its way into Tony’s brain and wouldn’t let go. It was the worst kind of craving, vague and misdirected, because it came in the shape of Steve instead of the nicotine hit he knew he really wanted. He associated Steve with the ritual of smoking and it got so bad he couldn’t look at the man without starting to feel antsy and wound up.

voglio sentirti by lackluster_lexicon @usenecessaryforce , 4.2k, MCU, bdsm

Tony closed the distance between them, unwound his arms to grab hold of the front of Steve’s shirt. Steve hissed in surprise, wrapped his hands around Tony’s wrists, but when Tony put the full force of his body into pulling Steve forward, Steve willingly dropped to his knees. Tony released Steve’s shirt, moved one hand to Steve’s shoulder and grasped Steve’s hair with the other, pulled Steve’s head back and forced him to look up at Tony.

“You’re going to beg,” Tony growled.

Side Effects by @elimymoons , 29.2k, comics - ultimates, bdsm

"You… what?" Steve's breath caught. He felt off-kilter, out of time, like he'd just woken up again and found everything flipped on its axis, but this time it felt good and right, and he just wanted to take Tony in his arms and never let go. "You love me?" he asked, soft, reverent almost. Tony Stark loved him, Steve Rogers, who— who swore too much, whose best friend wore dentures because his teeth all fell out, who talked better with his fists than his words most days. Steve Rogers, a ham-handed, bumbling oaf a man, and sweet, suave, wonderful Tony Stark loved him. "You love me?" he asked again, and Steve could feel his lips pulling back into a wide, beaming grin.

#fic recs #fanfic writer appreciation day #stevetony #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #stevetony fanfiction #stevetony fanfic #i tried my best to find everyone's tumblrs!#THANK YOU ALL YOU HAVE BROUGHT SUCH JOY TO MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#fic rec list

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thevaultturtle · 4 years

Text

NSFW Alphabet: Danse

And for the first installment of the NSFW alphabets. I’m sorry if the Favorite Positions section is a little funky, but Tumblr won’t allow images that would even remotely help with that anymore, so I did my best to describe everything. Need it even be said that there’s NSFW material under the cut?

A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Danse gets super cuddly after sex. He wants to make his partner feel safe during what could be a very vulnerable time for them, so he tends to have them lay on him in some way, typically with their head on his chest while he wraps an arm around them and his hand gently strokes their back. This isn't purely for their sake, either. This extra bit of contact after such an intimate act also makes him feel more secure, in himself and in his relationship with his partner. It makes him feel like he truly belongs with them, and it helps to satisfy the protective urge that he constantly feels towards his partner.

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner)

Danse loves his partner's eye. They're just so reflective of what his partner is feeling, whether that's in everyday life or during sex, and he'll never get tired of seeing the almost drunk, hazy look in his partner's eyes whenever he's doing a good job of making them feel good. Just thinking about that look can get him riled up and ready to go in seconds.

Since his Power Armor doesn't exactly count for this, Danse doesn't really have a favorite part of himself. He's never really given it much thought before, but if he absolutely had to choose, it'd probably be his chest, just because that's where he likes his partner to lay after sex.

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He has got to have some of the most average cum that you could imagine, simply because he's a synth and his body was manufactured, and it's highly doubtful that the Institute cared to put too much variety in all the glands that make cum. The glands are probably completely uniform, churning out a very average amount of cum that has a very average consistency. As for where he prefers to come, he'd prefer to do it inside of his partner because he finds it to be more intimate, but if he has a female partner, he will ignore that preference for obvious reasons, at least until he finds out that he's a synth since that particular worry wouldn't apply anymore (as far as we know).

D: Dirty Secret

During Recon Squad Gladius' initial travel to the Commonwealth, Danse involuntarily ended up hearing several of his squad members 'taking care of themselves' at several times throughout the journey. It's to be expected when you're traveling in such close quarters with a squad that's mostly in its physical prime, and it's not like they weren't trying to be discrete about it, but Danse has been able to maintain some pretty damn good hearing throughout the years. It shouldn't have been much of a problem, a bit embarrassing, but that should have been it. Unfortunately, as will be discussed later, Danse has a bit of a thing for any sort of sexual noises, so this led to a bit of frustration for him, frustration that he was far too embarrassed to take care of. He was incredibly grateful for his Power Armor.

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

At some point after finding out that he was synth and that most of his memories were fabricated, it occurred to Danse that he didn't actually know when his sexual history began. He can't figure out where the fake memories end and the real ones begin, and it's a bit disconcerting for him. It can be assumed that all of the sexual encounters that he had while he was with the Brotherhood were real, so he has some experience that he actually experienced. He caught the eyes of quite a few of his fellow Brotherhood soldiers, and while he acted on a few of those interests, there were a whole lot more that he didn't act on, purely because he was so focused on his duties to the Brotherhood and training. So he has some experience, plus whatever 'experience' he had programmed into him.

F: Favorite Position

Danse favors intimate positions, particularly those that allow for a lot of eye contact, so positions like Gemini (where his partner is sitting on his lap, facing him while they hold onto each other, and both of them also have their legs extended while they both grind into each other) are right up his alley.

He also likes the Louis position for its similar setup (like Gemini, but he's in more of a kneeling position), plus it gives him plenty of opportunities to touch his partner and more leverage to fuck them with.

Missionary is also a safe bet for him, because it's versatile on its simplicity and it allows for plenty of eye contact.

He also really likes being ridden, and he prefers positions like Oasis (where his partner is on his lap again, facing him, kneeling with their knees on the outside of his hips while he sits with his legs outstretched) for this because it gives him close contact with his partner while they ride him, so he can put his hands and mouth to good use while they do that.

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Danse is definitely more serious during sex, as he is with just about everything else in life. While he can have some more casual bouts, overall, sex is a very intimate act for Danse, so he takes it very seriously, which doesn't allow for a lot of humor. He's not completely broody during sex or anything like that, so there will be plenty of smiles, just not a lot of outright laughter.

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

The typical Wastelander probably doesn't care too much for personal grooming of this kind since every day is a fight for survival, but since the Brotherhood offers a good bit of protection to its people, they would probably have more time to put some effort into that grooming. Danse still probably wouldn't put that much time into it because he has better things to do, but he'd at least keep everything a little trimmed so it wasn't too bushy, and what he has is just as dark as what he has up top.

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

It has been said here before and it'll be said again: sex is an incredibly intimate act for Danse. He sees it as the ultimate way to connect with his partner on what he could only describe as a spiritual level. It makes him feel closer to them and more bonded with them, and the hope of strengthening those bonds with them even further really drives Dance to please his partner that much more, to be more intimate with them. Sex with Danse outside of a relationship is great, but because of his want and need for intimacy and how fervently he pursues that through sex, sex with Danse while in a relationship with a partner that he loves is a damn near life-changing experience.

J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He thinks it's a waste of time overall, and that there are quite a few better ways for him to spend his rare free time, but...a man has his needs, and unless the Institute developed the greatest hormonal control in existence for its synths or they didn't give them any at all, then Danse has a lot of needs. He'll avoid it for as long as he can, but when he can't resist any longer, he'll make it a very quick affair, far, far away from any and all human life so nobody has a chance at catching him.

K: Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He has a healthy bit of an authority kink. Will he take control over his partner and dominate them whenever they ask him to? Yes, but what really sends him reeling is the reverse of that scenario. There's just something so invigorating yet relieving about giving his partner that much control over him, about putting that much trust in them, and he finds an intimacy in it that others might not see.

Voyeurism in a very closed setting. He loves watching his partner pleasure themselves, seeing every way that their body responds to ecstasy in action and in sound. It drives him absolutely wild.

He also just loves it when his partner talks to him during sex, whether they're telling him what they want, that they love what he's doing to them, or they're telling him those sweet nothings that make his head spin. Something about their voice just does things to him.

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

It's kind of hard to have a favorite location for sex in a post-apocalyptic wasteland where you really just have to take what you can get location-wise, but overall, Danse prefers to have as much privacy as possible, in a place where his partner can be comfortable. If a private bedroom is available, fantastic, if not, he can make do.

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Gentleness and vulnerability. These may sound strange as turn-ons, but remember, Danse craves intimacy with his partner, and these are two very intimate things that will make him want that intimacy even more, typically through sex. And if his partner is showing him any type of gentleness after finding out he's a synth, this increases tenfold because it makes him feel like they accept him and it makes him feel human again.

Any sort of sexual movement or response. Danse pays a lot of attention to his partner, watching them and noticing every detail about them, and any subtle action that might indicate that they want him, or reminds him of a time when they were together, will get him going. This isn't just with his partner, though. Sexual sounds and actions in general just trigger something primal inside of him, which is what got him into trouble in his 'Dirty Secret'.

And if he tries to say that seeing his partner in Power Armor doesn't turn him on, he's lying. Any feat of strength or power from his partner will get his blood boiling for them in the best way.

N: NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's not going to do anything while he's on the clock. He has a duty to see to and he will be completely focused on that. His needs can wait until his job is complete, while he's in the Brotherhood and afterwards, because he's a mission-oriented person regardless of where he is in life.

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He has mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, he'd rather just get to the main event, but on the other hand, he really, really likes going down on his partner. He's all about making his partner feel good, and oral can be pretty handy in doing that, plus the way that their body reacts to it is just…exquisite, in his opinion. For his partner's pleasure, his oral skills are pretty damn good, and he's really enthusiastic in going about everything, too. He won't turn down a blowjob, but they aren't high on his priority list.

P: Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

Slow and sensual all the way because he wants to make every intimate moment with his partner last as long as possible. He'll turn things up a notch at his partners behest, but he'll always start off slow and gentle.

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

They aren't his thing. Since life is so unpredictable in the Wasteland and tomorrow is never guaranteed, though, he'll have one if he has to just to be with his partner, but he definitely prefer proper sex.

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He's far too cautious of a person for risks, and he's of the impression that life is already risky enough as it is. He’s definitely not fond of risking being caught in such a compromising situation, especially while his partner is in such a vulnerable state.

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Look, not only is Danse in freaking amazing shape, but he's also a synth, which just adds to his conditioning that much more. He has yet to find a limit on how many rounds he can go for because his partners tend to tap out before he can even get close to that point. His refractory period is also damn near nonexistent, so… Danse has some stamina, to say the least.

T: Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Do sex toys even still exist in the Fallout universe? Assuming that they do, Danse probably wouldn't be into them. They might even confuse him to some extent. Who would really need one with him, anyway, when he has that stamina and is so dedicated to his partner's pleasure?

U: Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If this is something that his partner wants, they'll have to mention it to him and then tell him exactly what it is that they want. He'll do it, but teasing is not something that he naturally thinks to do. He's too blunt and straightforward for it to be.

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He's not terribly loud, which is very purposeful on his part because he wants to hear every little sound that his partner makes, but he does let out these quiet, breathy grunts that are toe-curling on their own.

W: Wild Card (Random headcanon)

We've already established that gentleness is a surefire way to get Danse going, but for maximum effectiveness with that, his partner should hold him and go for the hair. They need to make him feel safe, wrapping their arms around him and letting him rest his head against their chest (so this would have to be while he was sitting or lying down because he's kind of a big guy). And then, once they run their fingers through his hair, gently scraping them against his scalp, they'll hear him let out a soft sigh. It is far from a sigh of relief, though. That feeling sent a shiver down his spine, and that shiver made his whole body tense with little crackles of ecstasy, so that sigh was more or less a light moan indicative of things to come.

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

How does the Institute determine synth dick size? Do they throw some variety into the genes or are they all pretty much uniform? We'll assume there's variety, because Danse just had the essence of being thick. He's a little above average at about 5 ¾ inches erect (if you're going with the average of 5 ⅕ inches). Girth-wise, he's well above the average (which is about 4 ⅗ inches), coming in at nearly 6 inches while he's hard.

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He has a pretty decent sex drive just because he so desperately wants to be close to his partner, but really it’s completely dependent on them, because he can hold his urges back when he needs to, but he will also take any opportunity that he can to be close to them.

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Well, he doesn't really have a need to sleep because of what he is, and he doesn't really want to after sex, either. He'd rather stay up so he can watch over his partner, ensuring that they sleep peacefully, protecting them and holding them so he can feel them against him and remind himself that they're still with him.

#paladin danse #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout #fallout danse #fo4 danse #fallout 4 danse #fallout headcanons #not so sfw alphabet #don't read in polite company

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1988hc · 3 years

Text

bright-eyed | 1988 | explicit | 1,988 words

Jonny’s asleep and Pat’s giving him a special gift.

warning: this fic contains rimming, butt plug tails, some conflicted feelings about them, and consensual somnophilia. if that’s not your jam, please don’t read.

Jonny’s asleep. Completely conked out on the bed, dead to the world, face smushed into the mattress. It’s kind of cute. But also kind of hot, because Patrick’s never been able to look at Jonny’s naked body and not want all up in that. Nevermind that he was just that not a few hours ago.

He smirks at the thought, shifting the covers that have mostly slipped off aside a little more, until he can see the full, lush curve of Jonny’s butt. It always takes Jonny a bit, a certain amount of build-up until he’s comfortable letting Patrick close to his ass. Always a piece of work, Jonny. But fuck was it worth it when Pat finally got the go-ahead to bury his face in there, breathing in the musky scent, when he was finally allowed to run his tongue over the soft skin, usually hidden from the world and all the more sensitive for it.

Once Jonny was over that hump, once Patrick’s managed to push past his hang-ups and defenses, it was a sight to behold. Jonny always got vocal, pushing his ass against Patrick’s tongue, arching his back, fingers gripping at Patrick, pulling, moaning loudly, demanding to be dicked down. Pat happily complied.

He shifts, chubbing up a little just from the memories of Jonny clenching around him. Being inside Jonny, sliding his dick in that sweet, sweet ass was like the best feeling in the world. Even if it was a wild ride, Jonny bucking and snarling beneath him, like one of those fake rodeo things Pat had to fight to stay on top.

He grabs the plug, smooth black silicone. Jonny’s skin is warm to the touch, always running hot, and he barely shifts when Pat holds his cheeks open with one hand. Jonny’s still loose, all fucked-out and greedy for more, pushing back when Pat runs the lubed up plug over the tight dark furl of his hole.

For a second Pat thinks about tossing the plug aside and getting in there, finding out how far he could push his tongue into Jonny all loose and sloppy like this, make Jonny come a third time tonight on nothing but Pat’s tongue and fingers this time. It’s fucking tempting, but Pat’s not sure he’s got the stamina for it. They just finished a four day three game homestand, earning themselves two whole days off for their trouble, and Pat’s about ready to pull a Jonny and pass out. They can always pick up where they left off tomorrow.

The toy slips inside Jonny with a minimum of teasing. Jonny breathes out, almost like a sigh, like he’s happy it’s in, keeping him open, keeping Pat’s come securely inside. Pat gives in to one of his sappier urges and presses a kiss to Jonny’s ass cheek, before pulling the sheets up over them both.

***

Jonny wakes up slowly, like he’s underwater and has to fight to reach the surface, his brain still foggy and sluggish. He’s in bed, at home, Pat snoring softly beside him, but something… His whole body feels the kind of sore it does after an intense workout and he stretches, careful not to accidentally kick Patrick and wake him up. He still feels full, like he can still feel the ghost of Pat’s dick, snug against his prostate. Pat had nailed him pretty good last night. But something doesn’t quite track.

There’s something tucked against Jonny’s hip, the feeling different from the blanket, soft and slightly ticklish. He reaches down, even as his brain is frantically fitting the puzzle pieces together, all of it resolving into… His fingers confirm what his mind pieced together just a split-second before.

That’s his tail.

It’s… Jonny clenches his ass, the heavy feeling inside him suddenly making sense as the soft fur of the tail twitches against his thigh. Fuck. He’s wearing his tail.

He can feel the flush creeping up his neck, even though there’s nobody here to see, nobody but Patrick, who’s still sound asleep. Sometime last night Patrick must have gotten it out and slipped it inside Jonny. Just the thought of Patrick going to Jonny’s closet, knowing exactly where to look, slipping out Jonny’s tail from its box, it’s… So much. He can’t fathom Pat’s face as he was carrying it into the bedroom. Did he hold it by the plug, the tail swaying gently with every step? Or did he grip it tight, sinking his fingers between the soft strands? Did he think about what Jonny would look like wearing it?

Jonny squirms, something sharply tugging at his navel from the inside at those thoughts.

He knows Pat’s not… Pat doesn’t get weird over the tail like Jonny does, doesn’t feel the same hot stab of desire at the thought of Jonny wearing it. It’s not his kink. That’s fine.

Jonny’s always known he’s a freak.

Pat’s cool, had even asked him about it, if Jonny would mind Pat touching it, and Jonny had waved him off, giving Pat blanket permission to get it out whenever. He just figured Pat wouldn’t want to, much less combine it with Jonny’s standing invitation to fuck Jon in his sleep, because they both loved it when Jonny woke up to Pat’s dick so deeply in his ass he felt like he was choking on it, had woken up more than once to Pat gently suckling on his dick. Just never… it never crossed Jonny’s mind as something that he could have, that he might ask for.

His face feels like it’s on fire, the shame and guilt mixing heavy in his gut. He can’t even tell what he’s more embarrassed about, how much he likes wearing it (even if it makes him such a freak, god, he can’t even explain why he likes it so much), or the idea of Pat sliding it into Jonny while he was out cold. It shouldn’t turn him on. He shouldn’t get hard over this. He should just take it out, put it away again before Pat wakes up. The thought sends a wave of dread through him.

Jonny doesn’t want to take it out. He just got it. Pat gave it to him. That means he’s fine with Jonny wearing it, right? But he shouldn’t… Jonny shouldn’t, like, stretch it. Pat was good enough to put it in him, that doesn’t mean he wants to watch Jonny get off on it. Maybe he can lock himself in the bathroom, jerk one out quickly and then put it away again.

He runs his fingers over the soft material, the dark red fur still one of the softest things he owns. Shit, he loves it so much. He’d agonized over it for weeks, browsing the web late at night, pouring over artisan websites and Etsy shops. There’d been so many, so many different varieties to choose from. It’d been overwhelming, almost, clicking through picture after picture, of the most beautiful tails, handcrafted, in all colors of the rainbow. He’d immediately gravitated towards the more natural ones, even though the bright white one with the softest candy cotton rainbow stripes had made him stop and stare for a good while. It was too flashy, though. Not something Jonny could envision ever having the guts to wear, even if it was insanely pretty.

He’d clicked through image after image of cat tails, wolf tails, tiny stubby bunny tufts, extra long ones that would almost hit the ground if Jonny was standing, long enough to wrap around his middle. There’d been two-color ones, spotted ones, a beautiful dark grey one with a white tip that Jonny had dithered over for the longest time. In the end, though, he’d chosen the most beautiful fox tail, one that claimed to be extra fluffy. He’d liked the bushiness of it, the color a burnt orange speckled with darker hairs throughout, attached to a sleek black silicone plug.

Fuck, he loves his tail.

He realizes he’s been running his hand over it, stroking down the length of it, unable not to touch it. His beautiful tail. The day it’d arrived in the mail, Jonny’s heart had been beating in his throat, fingers shaking as he’d carefully opened first the package, and then the storage box it was wrapped in. It had lain like that, open and unwrapped on Jonny’s bedroom dresser for the better part of a week before Jonny had finally worked up the nerve to try it on. He’d allowed himself two glasses of red wine with dinner and then locked the door to his bedroom even though he was alone in his apartment, feeling equal parts ridiculous and excited.

It has lost nothing of its appeal.

***

Pat smiles, watching Jonny fawn over his tail, so absorbed by it he hasn’t yet looked up to catch Pat watching.

“Morning, babe.”

Jonny’s eyes snap up immediately, and Pat has to bite his lip not to laugh at the deer caught in headlights look on Jonny’s face. A second later that look’s gone, though, replaced by wariness, an unease that Pat never meant to put there. Maybe he should’ve feigned sleep, let Jonny have his moment in peace. Nothing for it now.

“Someone woke up bushy-tailed,” he quips, trying to lighten the mood.

“I--” Jonny’s mouth is working, lips shaping words that never come.

Pat’s heart sinks, watching Jonny struggle.

Truthfully, he doesn’t get it, the whole tail thing. Jonny doesn’t like talking about it, clamming up every time Pat’d tried, even though it’s painfully clear how much Jonny adores it. So Pat’s got no idea what it is about the tail that turns Jonny on so much. He doesn’t need to know. If that tail turns Jonny’s crank (and boy, does it ever), then Pat’s content to stay right here, fiddling with the dials.

He shifts closer, closing the gap between them, until he can pull Jonny in enough to press a kiss to his bottom lip, catching it between his teeth. Jonny whimpers, hand catching in the fabric of Pat’s shirt, pulling, stretching out the collar. Pat kisses him deeper.

“You gonna show me, baby?” he whispers, lips moving over Jonny’s, pressing the words right into his skin. “Show me how hot you are with that pretty tail between your legs?”

Jonny makes another noise, choked-off and desperate. Sounding way too wrecked already. “Pat.”

“Yeah, babe. I’m right here.” He pulls Jonny closer, rolls them over until Jonny’s on top of him, knees on either side of Patrick’s hips, weight settled on his thighs. “Touch yourself. Wanna see.”

Jonny’s breathing gone ragged, face bright red, but he does as Patrick’s requested, wrapping a tight fist around his dick. Pat feels like he could get drunk on this, on Jonny’s pleasure, the rhythmic clenching of his thighs as he works his hips, squirming, like he doesn’t quite want to but can’t help himself, falling prey to his own desire.

Fuck. Pat’s gonna buy him all the tails in the world.

“You gonna come for me?” Pat asks, feeling a bit mad himself, reaching around Jonny’s hip, behind his back where Pat can’t see, but he can feel it, right there between their legs. Giving Jonny’s tail a sharp little tug, enough to move the plug inside.

“Aaaah.” Jonny clenches up, whole body going taught, eyes screwed shut as his fist flies over his cock, and fuck, yeah, just like that.

“Fuck, yeah, babe, c’mon, c’mon,” Pat chants, pressing on the plug, pushing it deeper inside Jonny, where Pat’s come’s still in him from last night. God.

Jonny comes with a shout, hard enough that doesn’t manage to catch everything in his fist.

***

“You get any come on my tail and I’ll fucking kill you, Pat.”

***

“You ready to take it out yet, babe?”

“.... no.”

“Uh, you planning on putting on any pants?”

“... no?”

“Well then, I guess we can leave it in.”

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meowdymista · 3 years

Text

ii. quiet light

Part of the Devil’s Backbone project - Masterlist - redrafted on ao3

TRIGGER WARNING: the entirety of this has strong themes. Suggested self harm, grief, miscarriage, pregnancy. Please do NOT click the read more unless you are accepting of these warnings. This piece was written with John’s comment to Bonnie in mind - “I have a son at home and a daughter in heaven”

It hasn’t been easy - far from it - but there were already so many reasons for him to stay.

Within a couple of months of escaping Lemoyne - alive despite best efforts - Arthur had woken to Abigail sobbing. It wasn’t unusual, and usually he would pretend to not hear it, but this was different. This was fear and devastation wrapped up in moving materials and frantic muttering.

He got to his feet from his sleeping bag on the floor and carefully sat on the bed, avoiding Jack who was still sound asleep. He reached out to take her hand, comfort her in some way, but it came back warm and wet.

“What the hell?” Turning on the light was a mistake.

Arthur had seen a lot of horrifying things, especially of late, but this was something else. Abigail was sobbing in a pool of blood, sopping blouses failing to stem it. Her body heaved with each body wrecking sob, blood smearing over her face as she pushes her hair back.

“What’s goin’ on?” He moves around the bed to try to help, his stomach already lost through the floorboards. “You do this?” Her sobbing is too hard for her to speak, she just shakes her head. “Is there someone else in here?”

She lies back, burying her face into her elbow as Arthur begins to search her legs for injury. Wordlessly she moves his hand onto her stomach. He breathes out as the muscles move under the light touch of his fingers and he has to swallow the lump in his throat as he moves her arm gently away from her face..

“Were you-?”

She cries harder, and he recognises the grief washing out of her lungs. John.

He swears under his breath, wiping the blood and slime onto his jeans, looking over to the boy still sleeping and back to the weeping woman.

“What can I do? What should I do? Can I help?” For once the fear is palpable on his face. He takes a gulp of air and heads straight to the door of the small room they had hired for the night. He had paid for it in the hopes it would make her feel better, help her recover, but he had put her fragile, perpetually exhausted state to grief.

“I need a doctor!” he cries, his voice hoarse with desperation. “Anybody? I need a doctor!”

He hammers on every door, growing more wild without respite. Abigail is wiped with another contraction, when she catches the small gasp from beside her.

The little boy’s screams bring Arthur thundering back in, scooping him up into his arms and holding him close as the boy struggles, sobbing. “Hey! Hey, Jack, it’s ok! It’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok…” He presses the boy’s small head into his neck and looks at Abigail panting on the mattress before rushing back to the doorway, looking up and down the hall. “I need help in here!” he roars as Abigail screams. “We need help!”

“What the devil-?”

“Sir! A doctor! A doctor or a woman - whichever, I just need help now!”

There’s a splutter. “What ever is the matter?”

“My- my wife is miscarryin’. She’s losing a lotta blood and I ain’t ever helped with this sorta thing-”

There’s more shouting, but Arthur is hurrying back to her side, bouncing the distraught boy on his hip as he pushes her hair from her face.

“We’re gonna be ok, Abigail.” His eyes shine green in the yellow light of the lantern, the fear still etching his forehead. “We’re gonna be ok. You, Jack an’ me. The feller’s gone for the madam next door. She’ll know what to do. You’re gonna be alright.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be, Abigail.”

“I shoulda said- but with John- with everything going on-”

“Abigail Roberts,” he crouches down, bending closer to cup her face in his hand. “Right now we needa think about you. Nothin’ else.”

“Where is she?”

Arthur sags in relief as a stout angry lady enters the room, but is forced to all but dive out of the way as she barrels in to take her pulse. She nods her head once and pulls out a bottle of moonshine from her pinny, setting it on the bedside table.

“Where does it hurt, my darlin’?”

Arthur looks on hopeless, still hushing Jack, and the woman shoots him a look. “Get out to the bar. Take the boy with you. We could be a while yet.”

“You sure?” He looks to Abigail but she’s screaming again. “If anything happens-”

“We will send for you.”

Another few whores slip into the room, scantily clad but eyes full of concern and determination.

“Abigail-”

A hand touches his arm and a woman with big brown eyes gives him a reassuring smile. “Look after the boy.”

He gulps and nods, making sure the boy doesn’t see his mother as he carries him out of the room.

The sun has risen before the door opens again. After a lot of reassurance that his Momma was gonna be just fine, and that it was ok, everyone was just as scared as he was, he had fallen asleep on Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur hadn’t been so lucky. When the gentleman returned with a bottle of whisky and set it in front of him, he took it without as much of a nod. He drank until he felt warm again, until he could feel the blood pumping under his skin, until his shoulder stopped aching from the dead weight of the snoring boy.

He misses Miss Grimshaw’s level head. She would have swooped in days ago, asking all the right questions and helping her to prepare. He misses Hosea’s voice of reason and Sean’s bratty optimism. He can’t help but wonder what John would be doing. Had he known? Had he an inkling of what was happening? Would he have ran again, or would he have grown, taking this second chance with both hands?

Arthur closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall. He even missed Dutch despite their differences of late. Old Dutch would have commandeered the operation, boasting the goods, downplaying the bads. And now it was just some old cowboy trying to hold the last two pieces of the puzzle together.

He can’t lose anyone else. He can’t, if only for the boy. How do you tell a boy the truth of the situation? That everybody is mortal, and right now everyone he’s ever truly known has left or is leaving?

There’ll be time for sorrow later.

They stay a further few days until Arthur is willing to believe Abigail is recovered enough to ride a horse. He helps her bury the small body whilst Jack sleeps inside, and holds her as she weeps. It finally makes sense how she had held herself together after they lost John. He thought she had been denying the truth, expecting him to ride up behind them one day and whisk them away, but the grief was for more than the tiny child wrapped in one of its mother’s blood soaked blouses.

Arthur makes sure to leave the owner a very generous tip, and slip the same to the brothel next door before they leave. The sight of Abigail wincing on the back of her horse is enough to drive him back into town for a small wagon. Money is getting thinner every day, but he justifies it easily. Everything will be worth it as long as Abigail and her son get out of the outlaw life.

They stay at different cabins Arthur had found to be empty whilst they were still with the gang, but never stay long. The longest they stay is three weeks at a crushed cabin near Moonstone Pond. It’s small, damp, and the tang of bat piss permeates everything they own, but Arthur manages to spread his tent into a canopy to keep them covered when it rains.

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fic #red dead fic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur x abigail #abigail roberts

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pasteljeon · 5 years

Text

The Clarity of Love (m)

Summary: He loves the games you play.

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader

Warnings: sub!jungkook, dom!reader, cockwarming, overstimulation, teasing, edgeplay, impregnation kink, dirty talk, masturbation (male), noona kink, subspace, minor assplay (buttplug)

Length: 1.5k

Notes: sorry this is just filth and i released it early bc i got excited. it’s supposed to be a short drabble before the next chapter of nymphet is released. looks like i can’t stick to the deadlines i set for myself but i hope you guys enjoy regardless!!

He sits with his legs spread out casually on the couch, clad in a pair of loose grey sweatpants, drawstrings untied, and a thin matching Puma sweater. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, lips pursed and long fingers dancing over the controller with ease as he fights to dethrone Jin in Mario Kart for the fifth time this week.

God, he looks good enough to eat. His manspreading makes you want to fuck him stupid. You want to devour him. “Babe, what are you—” he struggles to peer over your shoulder as you block his view of the widescreen TV momentarily, leaning over him as you hitch a leg over his thigh. You settle on his lap with a happy sigh.

He barely bats an eyelash, too focused on the game to notice the way you’re slipping a hand under the cotton material of his shirt. Your palm is cool against his skin, and Jungkook sucks in a breath when your nails rake down his abs to tug at the band of his sweats.

His muscles tense beneath you, and you smile when you feel his soft cock begin to swell. “Always so responsive baby,” you murmur, nosing along the column of his neck. Jungkook tilts his head back, throat bobbing as he swallows. Still, his eyes remain trained on the screen, though his attention is visibly impaired given the way his pupils are blown out and hazy. Your hips roll against him slowly, catching the slit of his length.

Jungkook chokes on a stifled gasp as the console jerks in his clutch. “N-noona—”

“Go on, Kookie. Play the game,” you whisper, pressing a kiss against the mole on his upper jaw. His eyes widen when he feels you pulling down his sweats, darting to you as he silently pleads you not to tease him. He knows the game you play, knows he’ll lose horribly, yet he can’t seem to find it in him to resist, not with how much he loves when you ruin him.

You admire his length as you free it from its confines. His cock is long and thick, curved at just the right angle, leaking with precum and twitching against your delicate touch and the cold air its exposed to. A moan escapes his mouth as he shuts his eyes briefly, struggling to stay still, your fingers pressing down on his hipbone firmly as you sink down.

The stretch burns slightly and you adjust leisurely, smiling at the way Jungkook lurches forward with every movement. “Don’t drop the controller, baby,” you sing, and his hands automatically tighten over the plastic.

You hum, seemingly unbothered as you reach to the side and prop open the book you were pouring over earlier, flipping through the pages with ease. He grits his teeth, the heat of your walls, the feel of your body pressed against him, the sweet scent of your shampoo wraps his head in fuzzy cotton.

It closes in on him until he can’t breathe. With every inhale, he loses a bit of his sanity. He squirms beneath you, lips parting as he pants, eyes half-lidded and knuckles white. He isn’t even sure if his fingers are still moving. He can’t even see where Jin’s character has disappeared off to. Fuck, even after all this time, he’s still weak as the first day you took him against the wall.

He drops the controller.

Jungkook tosses his head back, letting out a whimper as he gasps your name. “P-please. Y-you know I c-can’t take it!” You clench around him, cradling his cheeks as you bury your fingers in his thick, ebony-coloured locks. Tugging on them lightly, he moans, cock throbbing.

“My little pain slut,” you coo. He makes a soft noise of agreement, eyes rolling back as you rock against him gently. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“W-want you,” he pants, sweat beading at his temple as you ride him lazily. “A-ah, w-want you to f-fuck me, please noona! I’ll be a good boy,” he cries out when you pinch his nipple in warning, twisting harshly.

“Yeah?” You lift yourself off him abruptly. The loss of your warmth had Jungkook whining in protest, reaching for you blindly. You tilt your head, eyes innocent as you say, “I want to see you touch yourself. Get yourself off for me, baby. Then we’ll see about fucking you.”

The veins in his neck strain, and you suckle at his pulse point as Jungkook squeezes himself, hand coated in your combined juices. He quickens, flicking his wrist as he nears the edge, he can taste his relief already—

“Stop.” Jungkook sobs, unwilling to stop but ever so weak against that that lilting voice of yours, sweet yet edged with something a little darker, a little danger, something that says you wouldn’t hesitate to punish him if he so much as tries to resist.

“Again.” His orgasm has long since faded, and he shakily reaches for his cock.

You leave him teetering at the edge six times before you’re satisfied and he’s openly crying, lashes wet and cheeks stained. His lower lip is swollen from his constant worrying, and you roll the tender flesh between your teeth as you sit down on him once more.

His moans are staccato, breaths stuttering as his chest heaves. “Kookie,” you say. You sound so distant, his mind muddled with nerves frayed with pleasure. It rolls down his spine and lingers in his stomach, electrifying his blood. “Kookie,” you repeat. “I want you to come inside me.”

His hands come up to rest on the swell of your hips, and the hope that blooms in his darkened mocha orbs has you smiling down at him. You run your fingers through his damp hair and nod. “I want this. Want you to fill me up, want you to pump my stomach full of your seed.”

“Y-you want to have my kids?” Jungkook whispers hoarsely. His cock pulses at the thought of knocking you up, stomach round with his children.

“I do,” you say, and he dips his head to crush his mouth over yours, the kiss messy and more teeth and saliva than lips. “But you’re going to have to wait until I come first. Do you understand?”

Jungkook nods frantically, eyes wild as you slam into him. He keens instantly. “N-noona, I can’t! Fuck, I c-can’t hold it!” The edging takes its toll, his nerves alight with a scorching kind of pleasure. His cock seems to swell, and you let out a moan at the way his cock splits you apart.

“You can and you will,” you warn, but he’s too far into his lust-driven haze to register your words. He grips your arms and pushes you flat onto the couch, actively thrusting into you without rhythm, his hips a blur as he fucks you. “N-noona!” He explodes, warmth coating your insides as he moans, tears of relief streaming down his cheeks. You follow soon after, and he jolts at the feeling of your walls pressing into him as he comes down from his high.

“Kookie.”

Jungkook jerks, head shooting up as he tries, voice wobbling, “K-Kookie’s sorry, h-he d-didn’t mean—it f-felt s-so good,” he babbles, dread creeping into his veins as you prop yourself up, the familiar glint in your eye means you want—

“Again.” He wails, body shuddering as he cums in feeble ropes, thighs slick and stained with his release. The vibrations drill into his prostate, his cock alarmingly red and still somehow managing to remain half-hard despite you coaxing three more orgasms from him.

He collapses, muscles aching as tired moans leak from his lips. He floats in and out of consciousness, thoroughly worn. You gently tug the buttplug from his abused hole, Jungkook fidgeting slightly. Setting it aside, you fetch a wet towel and run it over his skin tenderly. You press a cup to his lips and he reluctantly opens his mouth, drinking greedily. His eyes stay closed, murmuring a croaky thank you, noona and you kiss his temple, heart swelling at his adorableness.

“Now sleep baby. I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready.” You tuck a blanket over his neck, but he catches your wrist before you can leave.

“I love you,” he says sleepily, smiling lopsidedly, brown eyes soft and warm as they peer up at you.

You feel yourself die. “I love you too, Jungkook.” And he knows. He knows just how much you do when he sees the way your lips tremble and eyes glaze over. He knows because he loves you just as much.

He’s yours, just as much as you are his.

#jungkook x reader #sub!jungkook #ggukienet #sub-bts-network #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #sub jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts scenarios

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thebutchknownaselaine · 4 years

Text

I've been working on a period piece series that I would love to share with you. This is the first book. None of the books have anything linking them together aside from the fact they are period pieces set in the 1870s, 1960s and 1980s. All of these decade were big whether in the lgbt community or within the black and native american communities. Or both.

The first is set in the 1870s. The main protagonists are a native american woman named Alice Covington and a butch named Peter "Pete" Quaid disguised as a man which was much more common back then than people would like to think. It is about their journey to catch the gang who ruined Alice's peaceful life. She and her brother hire a bounty hunter, famed as being a headstrong, determined lawman who always catches his man. Little does Alice know, Peter holds his own darkened past and secrets that entangle their journey, weaving a path of adventure and stunning self growth.

I read a lot of period pieces over the years but recently came across several articles discussing women who disguised themselves as men back then. I also read a lot of articles on netive american and black american lives back then and the struggles they face in a post Civil War America.

This book is very much fiction but I like to pull from history as well and pay homage to those who came before me to pave the way for my bright future. It is incomplete as I am still working on it, but I have published two chapters so far and have fifteen written in all. Please give it a look if you have any free time and thank you!

Here's a snippet from the novel:

August 25th, 1873, Madison County, Montana

Alice tightened the leather of her saddle in the cinch ring, then threaded the strap back up to the back saddle ring. It had been quite some time since she had last ridden Opie and he seemed rearing to get going on their ride.

She was just as eager to go as Opie appeared but Alice also knew the journey ahead would be hard. Harder than anything she had ever…

That’s not true. I have dealt with much more difficult things. I can do this!

“Would you like some help, ma’am?” A husky voice called from behind her and she spun around with a yelp.

Alice had been so wrapped up in her thoughts she hadn’t even heard Mr. Quaid walking up. He stiffened and stared down at her uneasily. His face held the most peculiar grimace Alice had ever seen. Being this close to him again was a bit...odd. Pete didn’t smell like the other men, even smelled a bit of cinnamon, and Pete’s face, obviously cleanly shaved every morning, was so unscathed. Aside from a few facial scars, he just wasn’t the ruffian she had expected to meet when her brother regaled stories of Pete’s legendary travels.

He wasn’t much taller than Alice herself but held himself in a way that was graceful and poised. It told her he had probably come from money so why on earth would Pete decide to be a bounty hunter? It wasn’t exactly an easy life, not that life was ever easy, but he was a good looking white man. Pete could have done anything with his life but had become…

Well, it’s not my place to judge…

Still, Alice’s suspicions got the better of her and she turned away from him with a huff. She had never needed a man to help her ready her saddle and Alice wouldn’t be needing one now.

Her father had raised her to be a self sufficient woman. Alice knew how to shoot and ride better than more than half of the men she had met in her life and Mr. Quaid would be no exception to that rule. Men weren’t something she felt a necessity unless they were a part of her family and it wasn’t like she had ever been attracted to one. As much as she craved intimacy and yearned to find a reputable man even a fraction of a bit comparable to the men of her family, she did not expect to ever find such a man. Especially not now that… Alice shook her head from the clouds and sighed.

“No, thank you, sir. I can manage just fine on my own.”

“Yes’m.”

Alice turned and looked over her shoulder to find him still standing there watching her. Well, watching her was an exaggeration, or rather, the wrong way to explain the look on his face. Pete shifted in place and crossed his arms over his chest as he examined Alice’s skirt with a grimace.

“Is there something else you needed, Mr-”

“Pete.” He interrupted but kept his eyes glued to her petticoat. “Just Pete's fine, ma’am, but...are you plannin’ on riding in that?”

Now that the pleasantries of yesterday were over, Alice had found herself growing more and more irritated with not only Pete but herself. He would comment on what they could expect from their travels as if he was trying to scare Alice into not joining them after all, even though he had been the first to agree to it. Now Pete was picking at her clothing, staring at her as if he had just eaten the most tart jam in the world.

All of these men are alike. Why did I get my hopes up that he would be any different?

Alice tried to shed her annoyance, determined not to let it get the best of herself and turned back to settling her saddle. Opie shifted a bit, picking up on her change in attitude and she ran a soothing caress down his neck. Alice looked back over her shoulder at Pete once more and found him staring at her hand.

He audibly gulped and his burly neck muscles tensed. Alice caught herself staring at them and noticed they weren’t nearly as taut as she originally thought. They had a softness to them and Alice had to lock her hands behind her back to stop from reaching out, giving Pete the same gentle strokes she had just given Opie.

With the shake of her head, Alice finished readying her saddle and turned around, mimicking Pete’s stance. “Is there a problem with the way I am dressed, Mr. Quaid?”

“I said it's Pete. Don't call me that.” Pete snapped as he tightened his arms over his chest. He shivered but the weather was warm and sunny out so he couldn’t have been cold. Not to mention that it was August, one of the hottest months of the year. What is wrong with him? “Only my father goes by Mr. Quaid and I am not him. Also,” He waved his hand at her dress, then replaced it back in its hiding place. “That dress will only get in the way. Do you not have any split riding skirts?”

“No, I ride side saddle.”

Pete shook his head and took his hat off, letting it hang against his back. His short blonde locks tussled in the wind and he ran his hand through it leaving it in a less than modest state. Astonished that unlike the men Alice knew Peter didn’t seem to really care about his appearance, she ran her eyes over his body once more.

Pete had a strong, strapping build but wasn’t as big as most men his height. His arm muscles seemed to curve perfectly and were finely toned as they poked out past his rolled up sleeves. All of his clothing was either white or brown in color and he was, for lack of a better word, plain. It wasn’t that Pete wasn’t handsome but there was nothing about him that spoke to Alice as a woman and she didn’t understand why such a delightful woman like Hany would bother accompanying him all over the country.

Alice peered up at Pete’s face and looked a bit closer, finding more than just the long scar that dressed his cheek down to his chin. He held one more scar above his right eye that was partially covered by his eyebrows and another just underneath his bottom lip. Pete didn’t seem old enough to have fought in the war, so what had caused such lingering scars on his otherwise soft looking skin? How old was he again? Alice couldn’t seem to remember.

And how is his skin so smooth? For a man who is on the road most of his time, how is his face so gentle?

The scars began to make a bit of sense the longer she thought of Walt’s wild stories of Mr. Quaid but it still didn’t explain why his tanned skin looked so untarnished by the usual weary lines men held after spending so much time in the sun. Was he really the man he claimed to be?

Well Pete had to be with someone like Hany backing up his claim. Alice couldn’t imagine her lying for this man but there was just something about Pete that was...off.

“No, you aren't.” Pete told her. He looked over her dress again, then pulled out the knife strapped to his belt. It was a Bowie, just as Alice’s brother's knife, and she instinctively backed up into Opie. Pete froze and held his hands up, dropping the knife to the ground. “It's okay. I was just goin’ to cut a slit in your dress. If you ride side saddle as far as we're goin’, you could slip and hurt yourself and…” He rubbed the back of his head and winced like her recoil had caused him physical pain. “I don't want you to get hurt.”

“Oh…” Alice had no idea how to reply. On one hand, Pete had been disrupting her emotions and she didn’t like to be anything short of level headed. On the other, he was now showing worry for her well being and already keeping true to his promise of looking out for her before they had even started their ride. Alice bent down and picked up his knife, then handed it to him. “Please, go ahead, Mr… Um, Pete.”

The smallest hints of a smile tugged on Pete’s lips and he scurried forward to take the knife from her as Alice turned its hilt toward him. She shyly let go as Pete tipped his head. He knelt down in front of her and took the bottom of her dress into his gloved hands. The soft material wouldn’t obey him and he grunted before removing his gloves with his teeth.

Oh my lord!

Pete’s hands were covered in scars. Some looked like burns while others looked as though large rocks had crushed them at some point. Alice suppressed her gasp and darted her eyes over Pete’s hands as he took her dress into them again. He peered up at her with a timidness she hadn’t seen before. All the time Pete sat in her brother’s office and even when he and Hany had stayed for dinner, he hadn’t removed his gloves.

That must have been so painful… No wonder he speaks of not wanting others hurt.

Alice put her hand to her forehead and rubbed it in frustration. Pete hadn’t been trying to scare her off yesterday evening at supper when he explained the terrors of the less traveled roads or of when he mentioned what passing through indian country held for them. He had only mentioned…

I just do not want you to get hurt. That is what he said at dinner and just now… How could I have been so...so…

“Are you alright, ma’am? I didn't nick your leg, did I?” Peter broke through her thoughts and Alice looked down at him finding a deep blush across his cheeks.

“No, Pete. I'm perfectly fine. I apologize if-”

“No need to apologize, ma-”

“Alice.” She interjected with a firm gaze. “If you want me to call you Pete and we are going to be together all this time, then I would like for you to call me by my first name as well, please.”

Pete opened and closed his mouth several times, then swallowed a mouthful of air with a stiff nod. He went back to cutting her dress. Once he had enough of the trim cut, Pete set down the knife and began to rip the skirt further up her leg. Soon enough, Alice’s knickers were exposed and she watched as the blush that was just on Pete’s face seconds before, stretched across the back of his neck and his ears.

Pete kept his eyes glued to her boots and rose, grabbing his knife from the ground on the way up. With a small nod and eyes that wouldn’t meet hers, he turned and walked away as quickly as his long legs would carry him. Pete may not have been as handsome as many other men she had known, and definitely not as handsome as papa, but the way he carried himself and the steadfastness in his resolve were all things Alice knew she would find herself looking at from time to time once they got going.

Give me strength…

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goldenworldsabound · 4 years

Audio

Philly’s playlist has 25 songs in it because I love him! Every day is an exercise in not adding more LHFEHJ

Some explanations under the cut!

Control ft Nick Nikon

The theme of the song is working through difficulty and being stronger than it, in a way, and it's got good vibes and feels very Philly. Like each challenge just makes me strong fuck you vibes. "No peace without violence" speaks to me as a lyric here because Philly wants peace to a degree but he has to kill a lot of people to get there due to having a huge bounty on his head (which he sort of deserves but you know).

Regardless (from Cannon Busters)

It's the end credits. It's also got fairly applicable lyrics. Self explanatory, However,

Even though, we been down this road

And I know it's far from flawless

You'll be comin' home regardless

Relationships take work and ours is no exception. Sort of reference to the time we spent apart and how we always come back together, after anything that separates us.

Weapon

This song makes me feel VERY STRONG and like we're kicking ass together. We're both really fucking dangerous.

When they say I'm a machine gun

I take it as a compliment

Honey, you should know

I can be your weapon

It kinda fits either of us honestly, we're both really protective and will do anything to protect the other person

Help I'm Alive

This songs seems both ironic and appropriate for immortals. Really like all of these lyrics are applicable for the idea of like, we're alive, our hearts won't stop beating because we can't die, but if we're together it's okay you know? But there's also a freneticness to be alive.

If you're still alive

My regrets are few

If my life is mine

What shouldn't I do?

I get wherever I'm going

I get whatever I need

While my blood's still flowing

And my heart's still beating like a hammer

Beating like a hammer

Patience Gets Us Nowhere Fast

To me this song speaks to how Philly especially feels when he meets me and his world starts to change. Life feels a bit more worth living. "Even the sunlight doesn't feel this good." There's a lot of like, let's be together, let's take a chance, let's do it! And it kinda speaks to the way we're both hesitant but really want this love thing.

I want it all and nothing less

I want it all, I want the best for us

I'm telling you to trust

The world you see is on our side

Take a chance and take a ride with me

From sea to shining sea

Like it's just so soft and sweet and it feels like Philly's inner monologue to me ;w;

Trampoline (with ZAYN)

This song just feels super Philly to me. I've talked about it before but this song is angst material. It's just. Big oof but also perfect. It's not really about our relationship but just about him.

Wait if I'm on fire

How am I so deep in love?

When I dream of dying

I never feel so loved

The idea that he dreams about dying because he dies all the time. The fact that he likely has trauma over this, and how it must've fucked him up pretty bad. It's just. Hngh.

Regain Control

It's the right time (to rise up to the top)

Prime time (cause we can't get enough)

And fight for (this city that we made)

To take back (the power that you crave)

This song is just like COOL VIBES very fight-y vibes and the lyrics match that. It's really easy to imagine fighting side by side to this song. Additionally it has angst that can kind of reference the time in our relationship where he got me my immortal - that caused me to leave him for a bit as I grappled with it. See the following lyrics: Can't get enough

Of your love

But to save you now, I gotta give it up

Give it up, give it up

Baby Come Back

Sort of a joke song but also it's got the twangy cowboy outlaw vibes to it. Also this line specifically, "She's so cute, and really cool" it's just like, Philly trying to describe me and like he's just struck for words FWEJKFHWJE the rest of the lyrics don't necessarily apply but the vibes are good.

4 Wheels 9 Lives

No lyrics, but this song slaps and it's also just very Cannon Busters vibes. Very cowboy outlaw on the road kinda vibes. Easy to imagine lots of shenanigans with him and I and this plays in the background.

Get Free

This song just screams Philly going absolutely bonkers driving around just doing whatever he wants having a good time but also like an existential crisis HFJWEHFJE classic right. There's not a lot to the lyrics but like, "Drive you around the corner" and "She never loved (x3) why should anyone?" just feel very Philly to me idk. It's very upbeat song.

Save Me From Myself

This song is a little angsty but it has good vibes. It makes me think of a vulnerable late night chat by the fire out at night. But still covering up the hurt with jokes and other deflections.

Still it's 48 hours without rest

Burning sensation in my chest

Never would admit that I'm depressed

'Cause I was raised to take the bitter with a twist

and also

The pain is real, my laughter is pretend

So I light the matches, ready to forget

There's also a lot in the verses about sparking up the fire and that sort of thing hence the particular imagine. And sort of asking for help and acceptance but continuing to deflect.

Don't Let Me Go

This has very similar vibes to the above. Like being vulnerable with some deflections in place. Also a little sexy.

And it's all about the way you feel

When you first take off your heels,

And then your clothes;

Don't let me go.

And when all has come and made its deal,

And then everything get's real,

And i'm still froze...

Don't let me go.

Vulnerability in two flavors - the physical layers of clothing, and this repeated line throughout the entire song of "don't let me go". His emotional vulnerability. My emotional vulnerability. All the things coming together.

RBB (Really Bad Boy)

...what can I say, he's a really bad boy LKFWEHFJKW. It's fun and it's sexy and that's it that's all I have for you it gives me a lot of images of him smirking and giving me naughty glances and being a flirty lad.

Rescue Me

We really out here rescuing each other all the damn time. It's pretty straightforward.

Would you rescue me? Would you get my back?

Would you take my call when I start to crack?

Would you rescue me? Uh

Would you rescue me?

Would you rescue me when I'm by myself?

When I need your love, if I need your help

Would you rescue me? Uh

Would you rescue me?

Circles

This is very much about like, the circles we run around each other before we get together. We both kind of cycle through like, should I try to make this work? And wanting distance because we can feel we're falling in love but don't know how the other person feels. So we circle that way. I realize that's not exactly what the lyrics are about but the vibe it gives off works for that even though the lyrics aren't an exact match.

Lightspeed (IMLAY remix)

This gives me really big feelings like. It's a very intense song but like it's like man things are fucked up but maybe we can fix it if we work together.

We're moving faster than light while

We're dealing with these demons inside so

Where are the ones who made us now!?

Maybe we got to do better

Maybe we've got to do it together and

Maybe we lost our way somehow

And maybe maybe means never

"Where are the ones who made us now" to me is just like...we were made immortal by sorcerers and magic that seems to have disappeared from the world, but also like...the world that continues to hunt us and has forced us to keep running, you know? and the we've got to do it together is just like ;w; us coming together and working to make life worth living and all...hngh...it touches my heart a lot and also it's a really good song with good energy.

Never Game Over

Ride I'm gonna ride the lightning

Danger feel the danger rising

Never it's never game over

Wild I am a wild eyed thriller

Dragon I'm a dragon killer

Never it's never game over

It is LITERALLY never game over for us cause we keep coming back to life. We always find a way to win against every single bad odd. Also a fucking bop to imagine fight scenes to.

Reckless Tongue

The wording and tone in this just scream Philly.

I've got a reckless tongue

What are you bothering me for

It's gonna look bad on you

I've got a big old gun

What are you laughing at me for

It's gonna look bad on, you

It's also kind of about trying to flirt with a girl but being interrupted and failing and getting frustrated and it very much just...it feels Philly.

Legend

I'm a living legend

You ain't heard yet? You not get the message?

From the moment that I step in it, I get a couple weapons

Yeah, I turn into a beast when I'm repping

Again, just flawless lyrics for Philly being a cocky shit.

Ride It

...this song is just very sexy okay...>///>

People = Shit (Richard Cheese cover)

Okay but like I don't know the original song at all but the loung cover of it IS HILARIOUS to imagine like Philly wandering around a bar starting fights and killing people. Like a musical number! It would be great.

Paralyzer

Well, I'm not paralyzed

But, I seem to be struck by you

I wanna make you move

Because you're standing still

If your body matches

What your eyes can do

You'll probably move right through

Me on my way to you

I really catch him off guard. The lyrics aren't a perfect match, but the way he just is totally struck by me over and over...I can keep of with him, he thinks I'm gorgeous all of that is like lightning to him.

Ain't No Rest For The Wicked

Okay definitely added this at least partially for the aesthetic. Like it just has cowboy outlaw vibes. And of course the lyrics, "Ain't No Rest for the Wicked" are extremely pertinent right? It's a bit ironic because the full lyric is, "ain't no rest for the wicked, until we close our eyes for good". Which we never will. So it's the kinda thing we say with a wry smirk before killing someone you know feel?

Trouble

Trouble on my left, trouble on my right

I've been facing trouble almost all my life

My sweet love, won't you pull me through?

Everywhere I look I catch a glimpse of you

I said it was love and I did it for life

Did-did it for you

Hoo boy this is just big Us. Like yeah we're surrounded by trouble nonstop but we get through it with each other!

Black and Gold

This song gives me mega feelings about the time Philly and I spend apart after he gets me turned immortal to save my life.

'Cause if you're not really here

Then the stars don't even matter

Now I'm filled to the top with fear

That it's all just a bunch of matter

'Cause if you're not really here

I don't want to be either

I wanna be next to you

Black and gold, black and gold, black and gold

Like oof just both of feeling like...what's the point in this immortality if we aren't together? But unwilling to reach out because we're afraid. Because that would be a huge step for how bad of terms we left on.

Additionally the song has really big vibes for stargazing which is definitely a thing for us, particularly when we're apart.

#fofebruary #eternal roadtrip #audio #self ship #self insert #selfship #selfinsert #if you read the entire thing I love you and also I'm sorry it's really long...

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