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ifimhonestidk · 2 years

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Why ~ Jegulus

James knows a lot of things. I mean he goes to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry so he must. However, James doesn’t know why Regulus Black hates him. He doesn’t think he’s ever wronged the man, James would remember such things. He’s like that. He remembers everything he’s ever done wrong. James is much like an elephant in that way. But, he can’t think of anything he’s done, accident or not, to make Regulus hate him so much. He doesn’t like when people hate him for no apparent reason. He wants to seem like a good person to everybody, not just some. James should be studying but instead, he’s thinking about how much Regulus hates him. Remus flicks his forehead and James winces at the sensation.

“What are you doing?” Remus’ eyes flash from James to his unopened books. James glances down at said books.

“Reading?” Remus rolls his eyes.

“You can leave if your not gonna finish anything, but I will track you down and make you finish your work eventually.” James stands up and quickly gathers his stuff.

“Thank you so much, Moony,” James hesitates before kissing Remus on his forehead. Remus promptly swats his face away, but he has a smile on his face nonetheless.

“Tell the other idiots that they have to finish their homework for tomorrow,” Remus yells to James. James yells “Goodbye,” in response Remus shakes his head with a smile on his face before he gets back to his work. James enters the boys’ dormitory loudly as he always does.

“G’day lads.”

“No, it’s not, Moony’s gonna chew my ear off if I don’t finish my homework,” Peter whines as Sirius throws hats at him, hoping one of them will stay on his head.

“And this wanker won’t stop bothering me because he thinks Moony won’t beat his arse if he doesn’t finish his homework.” Sirius laughs as he puts on a sombrero and dances his way over to James. Frank transfigures one of his pillows into two maracas from over on his bed and starts singing as Sirius continues to dance. James laughs and puts his books in his trunk. Kingsley shakes his head and throws a pencil at Frank to get him to shut up. Frank throws one of the maracas at Kingsley but stops singing anyway.

“Anyone wanna come to the quidditch pitch with me?”

“You don’t even need to ask Prongs,” Sirius spoke as he threw on one of Remus’ jumpers.

“See, I would, but the problem is,” Frank started stopping short.

“I don’t want to,” Frank walked over to James, patting him on the shoulder before exiting the room. James just laughs. Sirius and he make their way onto the field. They mount their brooms and take to the sky. It wasn’t till James was almost sent to the ground that they realized they weren’t alone.

“Blimey Potter, watch where your fucking flying.” James is taken aback by the boy’s sweaty figure and long, curly hair. His hand seems to be holding onto something, probably a snitch, Regulus is a seeker after all.

“Fucking hell, James. Mate, are you alright?” Sirius rushes to his best mate’s side. He seems to be unfazed by his brother’s presence. It’s possible he hadn’t even noticed him.

Regulus’ heart sinks. He’s selfish for wanting Sirius’ attention when he had just hit Potter, but he’s always craved Sirius’ attention. All he’s ever wanted is for Sirius to care about him, but he doesn’t even spare Regulus a look in his direction because of Potter. Before Potter, Regulus was happy. He was loved by his brother. But now. Now he’s been replaced by Potter. The worst part is he can’t even blame Sirius. Potter has to be the nicest person Regulus has ever met. Regulus, himself, is the opposite. It makes sense why Sirius would want to be around the ever peppy James Potter, but Regulus is his blood. His brother. He had hoped that would’ve counted for more but I guess not. Regulus flies to the ground and then heads to the locker rooms. He feels and looks like shit. He washes the dirt off his body and sulks. He can’t rid his thoughts of James Potter. He hates him for taking his brother away, the only source of happiness Regulus has ever had. Does he know what it’s like in that house? His brother hates him, his parents hate him. Potter took away the only love he’s ever felt in a matter of weeks. Regulus punches the wall, imagining Potter’s face in that spot. He cries out in agony. He washes off his bleeding knuckles and bandages them. He packs his bag and leaves the locker room. He catches a glimpse of them, Sirius and Potter, playing in the sky. Their laughing and joking and Regulus can’t help but feel anything other than hatred for James Potter, the person who stole his brother.

James has been tossing and turning in his bed since he’d laid in it. He’s about had it with Regulus Black. Regulus had hit him on the quidditch pitch and James still couldn’t find himself to dislike the youngest Black. That’s all he had been thinking about all night, Regulus. He had taken James’ breath away on the quidditch pitch, both figuratively and not. James’ stomach grumbled. He was alarmed by the sound. Peter and Sirius are both rather light sleepers, though Peter more than Sirius. Sirius had gotten to sleeping better ever since he started sleeping in Remus’ bed. James carefully pulled the invisibility cloak from the edge of his bed and got up. James, being the idiot he is, got off on the side of his bed with the creaky floorboard. He cringed at the sound and then again at Peter’s sleepy voice.

“James?” James slowly turned his head and spoke.

“Hiya Pete.” Peter rubbed his eyes with his fists and spoke.

“What are you doing up?”

“Just got a bit hunger.” Peter nodded and went back to laying down.

“Don’t wake me on the way back in here,” Peter warned as he fell back asleep. James nodded and tiptoed out of their dorm. He put on his invisibility cloak and walked all the way to the Kitchens. He entered the portrait but stopped short, noticing another person in the room.

“I bumped into him again today,” Regulus says to some house-elf, before taking a sip from his cup.

”Like literally, I bumped into him while playing quidditch.”

James stopped short.

Regulus couldn’t have bumped into many other people while playing quidditch today, right? That’s not a coincidence, right?

James is quick to duck behind a counter when he hears someone approach him. By some miracle, he’s not caught but he continues to hide behind the counter.

”Everything about him bothers me.”

“Why is that Mr. Regulus?” one of the house-elves ask him. Regulus sighs before answering him.

“You don’t have to use Mr. in front of my name, Skiff.”

“Well, what should Skiff use instead, Miss?” Regulus waves the elf off.

“No, it’s not that. I just don’t like the formality of it all.”

“Skiff doesn’t understand.” Regulus sighs and puts his hand on the elf’s shoulder.

“That’s okay, Skiff.” James furrows his eyebrows at how the two interact. James never knew this side of Regulus existed, though, with the way Regulus talks about him, I guess he doesn’t know much about the Slytherin at all. James, being the idiot he is (this already being assured once tonight), conveniently knocks over a bowl on the counter above him. It should’ve just hit him, probably not making any noise, but once James had seen the bowl start to lose its balance, he reached out to get it and was unsuccessful. Resulting in the bowl making a rather alarming noise and Regulus and all the surrounding house-elves being alerted of James’ presence. Regulus gets up from his spot, wand in hand, and walks slowly over to James. Everything had happened so quickly James didn’t know what to do but stay there and face his fate.

“Potter?!” Regulus screeches in disbelief. James slowly gets up with his hands held up high, as if he’s just been caught. Well, to be fair, he has just been caught.

“I have half the mind to hex you right now,” Regulus says, no longer surprised but rather outraged. James gulps.

“Please don’t.”

“What are you even doing here? Are you spying on me?”

“What- no- of course not,” James sputters out. Regulus raises his eyebrow.

“Really cause that’s not what it looked like.”

“Okay, well, to be fair, I hadn’t come down here with the intent to spy on you.”

“What? So you just happen to be hiding behind a counter listening to me talk? Sounds like something Sirius would do. Did Sirius put up to this? I’m surprised he’d even give me a second thought.”

“I’m not down here because of Sirius. Plus, he’s not what you think he is.”

“Oh really. And how would you know that.”

“He’s my best friend. He’s like a brother to me.” The air was already tense, but now they might as well have changed states of matter.

“He’s not your brother,” Regulus states through his teeth.

He’s fighting for his life not to cry, he always has been. Regulus is said to be too in touch with his emotions, but I think Sirius was just being nice to him. Regulus is a crybaby and he knows it. He’s tried so hard to bury his emotions so far down that maybe they wouldn’t be intact anymore, but no. He’s spent five years trying to hide his emotions as best as he can after he was punished for crying too much. “You need to toughen up. Become more of a man.” were his father’s exact words. Those words ring through his head as he tries to stop his eyes from leaking in front of fucking James Potter, the only person he hates more in the world than probably himself. It doesn’t help that James seems to notice the effect his words had on Regulus and tried to comfort him.

“Shit. Regulus I’m sorry.” Regulus lets a tear fall as he is reminded that his brother had already replaced him once Sirius stepped on the Hogwarts Express. Or maybe it was the first steps into Hogwarts or maybe the boats or his Gryffindor dorm or maybe, maybe Regulus was never truly his brother in Sirius’ heart. To be honest, he probably loved Andromeda as a brother more than Regulus.

“Don’t call me Regulus.” Regulus just lets the tear roll down his face and hit the floor. James has never felt more responsible for hurting someone in his life, so he scoops Regulus up in a hug and rubs his back. He tries to soothe the now aggressively sobbing boy but does such with no luck. Regulus tries to pull away from James, but he knows. James has comforted enough people to know that Regulus needs to be embraced.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m sorry Regulus.” Regulus lets out another heart throbbing sob.

“Don’t fucking call me that. I hate you. I’ve hated you since Sirius left for school. Since Sirius’ letters stopped coming in November. I hate you because I know the exact day they stopped coming and why? Because of you, that’s fucking why. I’ve hated you since you made Sirius stop loving me. Since the summer of first year, when Sirius spent all his time at your house. Since Sirius ignored me for my first year. Do you know how scared I was? How scary it was being all alone at this school because my brother hated me? Because of his little friends that were everything I wasn’t. That made him realize I wasn’t good enough. I fucking hate you James Potter for making him realize I wasn’t good enough. I was never good enough, was I? But you made him realize that I was everything short of perfect. That I was nothing like you. Like his real brother. I mean you might as well be right. So get the fuck away from me Potter.”

James almost starts to cry with Regulus. He never knew how much pain he had caused him. The reason James couldn’t recall the moment he had wronged Regulus into hating him is because it wasn’t just one moment. Regulus hiccups and sinks down to the floor, bringing James with him.

“I hate you,” Regulus mutters sleepily. His eyes flutter shut as he falls asleep on James. James kisses his forehead. He assumes one of the house-elves had made a blanket for Regulus. James knows he should probably take Regulus back to his dorm and retreat to his but he can’t find it in himself to move the sleeping boy. He’s already put him through so much. James knows he won’t be able to ease all of the boy’s pain but he’s going to try.

He will do whatever it takes to make it up to Regulus Black. And swears to never let anyone hurt him as much as James has.

#harrypotter #maraudersera #jegulus #marauders #dorms #blackbrothers #blackfamily #sad #angst #morehurtthancomfort #comforting #likeacharactercomfortinganothercharacter #kingsleyandfrankwereinthemaraudersdorm #remusisthebest #remusistheonlyonewhostudies #james x regulus #bromance #quidditch #houseelves

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lady-z-writes · 3 years

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Plaything (Heisenberg x fem!reader)

Chapter 5 (of 5)

Summary: Reader works for BSAA and is scoping out the village until you get captured by none other than Heisenberg who doesn’t take well to trespassers. Once he learns of your hatred for your job, he wants the information you have and he doesn’t have to try hard to get it. You find yourself drinking, fireside, with him and can’t help but let him touch you. Angie said he’d needed a plaything and, well, you’re it.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Final chapter below the cut:

The paranoia sets in after his ‘sister’ leaves. Heisenberg sends the Haulers to scope out the lower structures of the factory. Alcina is irksome, true enough, but her senses are pretty keen and he’s been up all night after you fell asleep – sans the chains. He’s not a monster.

The thought of a rat in his factory without him even knowing…it pushes him to a boiling point. Maybe that gargantuan with the sombrero is playing him as a fool, but he can’t take a chance.

He gets no work done, just paces back and forth in his makeshift office, focusing on all the bad that could potentially come his way with talk of your survival getting out.

She’ll kill you. He knows it; saw something similar happen with a villager Bela brought home. Apparently, Alcina’s the only one who’s allowed servants.

Who is he fooling? He knows the difference. The few survivors at House Dimitrescu are rotated through. And they’re for the sole purpose of eating. What Miranda saw in Bela’s beau was different – she could call it in an instant: attraction, temptation, hope. Hope for a different life; for something other than this village.

Anything that distracts from Miranda’s plan needs immediate attention. He’s sure she’ll be visiting within the day.

Heisenberg lets his anger out as he shoots a slew of knives at the wall.

And then he hears it.

The screeching from below.

They found something.

Heisenberg hasn’t hurried that quickly in ages – the winded feeling aching his lungs.

Sure enough, following the stream to the sub-basement, he hears the gunshots, spots the scene: a man taking out his Haulers, but more replacing them due to the noise.

Heisenberg shoves a metal pole in the man’s direction, knocking him down in one swoop. A snap of his fingers and the Haulers retreat.

“And who might you be?” he drones on as the man groans, trying to pull himself to his feet. “Not a talker, huh? That’s okay. I’ll put the pieces together for you: you’re part of the agents. You, somehow, survived and now you think you can just hide out here until your little helicopter picks you back up and takes you home to your comfy bed.” The man stands now, eyes glancing at the gun he’d dropped to his left. “Ah, ah. Bad choice.” They’re at a standstill. “Listen, I’m entertained, truly, it’s just getting dull so…” he shifts his hammer over his shoulder.

“You have her, don’t you?” the man speaks evenly.

Heisenberg narrows his eyes. “Have who?”

“[Y/N].” He dares to step closer. “I heard her in there. You have her.”

Heisenberg smirks. “Ah, you heard us, huh? Would it interest you to know just what those screams were really about?”

The man picks up on his innuendo. “You’re lying.”

“See for yourself.” Heisenberg purses his lips. “Friend of hers?” he’s met with silence. “Well, clearly a reunion is in order.” He swipes and forces metal to mold around the man’s hands, shackling him before he pushes him toward the staircase.

It takes a while, but he manages to shove the intruder all the way back to his quarters, where he knew you’d still be.

You’re still wearing his shirt, looking like a vision, when he forces the man into his quarters – flat on his face.

“Ohh, [Y/N]…” he speaks in a singsong voice.

You open your eyes, a slight smirk on your face before you stretch out under his bedsheets and look in his direction.

Within seconds, you’re bolting up in bed. The look you’re sending him is hard to read. The initial shock sets in and then there’s recognition…hurt?

“Chris?”

“Oh, fuck, [Y/N]…” he struggles to get up, but Heisenberg flicks his wrist and the cuffs tighten. Chris groans out.

“Touching. Truly touching. Now, I told ya you’d get to see her…” he points in her direction. “See?”

“You asshole,” Chris cusses.

“Time to die!” Heisenberg raises a gloved fist and calls all the metal items in the room.

“No, stop!” you’re rushing toward Heisenberg, his shirt billowing around your naked nether regions. You grip his wrist and put yourself between the two men. “Please, Karl, no.”

Heisenberg raises an eyebrow. “What does this whelp mean to you?”

“It’s…complicated.”

Heisenberg glances between the two of you, really takes in the expression on Chris’ face.

“Ah, so you two used to fuck then, is that it?” Heisenberg hums.

“[Y/N], get away from him,” Chris warns from on the floor, clearly irate at the current discussion. Heisenberg laughs.

“Chris, you don’t understand. He’s…” you sigh, unable to put it into words. “He’s not what you think. He’s not like you think.”

And it’s true. Though you’ve seen the bad parts of him, you’ve seen his humanity still. You’ve seen the hurt parts of him, the irreparable parts that Miranda damaged.

Heisenberg lowers his hand at this and the metals go clanging to the ground. His mouth is a hard line, but his eyes show so much emotion. You’re reminded of the soft moment he shared last night before treating you to several orgasms.

“You’ve got two minutes to convince me not to kill him.”

“He got out!” you yell, tears in your eyes. “He’s proof, Karl. He got out. BSAA. All of this…he’s proof that I can do it.”

The conversation from the other night comes to mind and Heisenberg hums.

“You could get her out of this?” Heisenberg’s voice is level now as he asks Chris.

“Y-yeah…yes?” Chris, clearly confused, struggles to stand with his hands cuffed in front of him. “Why, do you…?”

Heisenberg narrows his eyes, stares at the ground. When he exhales out of his nose, you glance his way.

“Well,” he lights a cigar, puffs on it a few times before speaking again. “Looks like you’ve got lots to discuss.”

And just like that, he’s snapped the cuffs off Chris and is sauntering out of the room. You follow after him, but he pushes you against the wall with one hand against your neck.

“Karl…” you practically sob.

He doesn’t look at you. “Look, you got an out, you take it.” He exhales again, speaks barely at a whisper, “If I’d had an out…” he lets that sentence trail off.

“But, Karl, what about-”

“Miranda’s already aware of your presence in my factory – guaranteed. We’ve got my fucked up family to thank for that. If I know Miranda – and I do… - she’ll come sniffing around soon…” his thumb rubs along your neck. You’ve never seen him look so serious when he says, “I can’t let her know about my plans, [Y/N].”

And he lets you go. When your feet plant back on the ground, you hear Chris stumble through the doorway as Heisenberg saunters down the hall. You know he’s made up his mind. And wasn’t it a pipedream anyway, staying here with him?

Tears prickle in your eyes.

Chris rushes to your side, watches the scene before him. You can tell he’s ready to go after Heisenberg, but you put a hand on his chest in hopes you’ll stop him. The defeated feeling is overwhelming.

“[Y/N], leave it to you to get wrapped up in all of this,” Chris mumbles.

Your fingers are busy playing with the hem of the shirt Karl gave you. “Yeah…leave it to me.”

“C’mon, let’s get you dressed.”

•••

You were never good at leaving, never good at goodbyes, and this is no different.

It’s not like you had things to pack, you’d been here for a total of a few days and as you think about it, you realize how crazy this seems: to get this head-over-heels in a matter of a few days.

But you’d like to think you understand each other.

And he trusted you, let you into his headspace for those few days.

You convince Chris to give you five minutes before you leave. It’s…awkward between you. There were several occasions in your history where you indulged in each other out of pure convenience. Late nights after work, early mornings before, missions if you could ever sneak away…neither of you could hold down a steady relationship with work so you just made the best of it.

Things got complicated between the two of you – things are always complicated with Chris – but you never expected him to be here. You hadn’t heard about the Hound Wolf Squad, but it sort of gave you hope that there could be a version of you that gets out of these missions, this life.

Heisenberg is in one of his many offices when you finally find him – there are three main ones and you never know where he’ll be. He’s tinkering with something, but you can see his mind is elsewhere. He doesn’t look up at you when you enter the room.

You close the door, take a few tentative steps toward him.

When you wrap your arms around him, you hear him sigh. Your cheek is pressed against his back, hands met around his middle, and you just hold onto him.

You’re tentative, never knowing what kind of mood he’s going to be in and what constitutes a step too far. But, apparently, right now this is okay.

“There’s no changing my mind, you know,” he speaks.

“I know,” you nod against him, shift your body so you’re between him and his workbench. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

His expression softens. Gloved fingers come to swipe your hair from your face. You hate the thought of his years of planning to fall apart just because of you.

“You’re welcome.”

The moment stills again.

“We could have been good,” you whisper out.

A nod. “If you stay here, you’ll get killed. Simple as that. I’m making a choice, buttercup.”

“I know…” you nod, try not to cry. “It’s crazy…” you sniffle, look away.

“What’s crazy?” he’s still got his hand cupping under your chin.

“This heat between us. I mean, you don’t know me.”

He gives you one of those devilish smirks. “But I could know you.”

And just like that, you’re pawing at him again – pulling him in to kiss you, letting your hands trail down to undo his pants. One last time.

The moment is slow as he pulls down your pants and takes you right on his workbench. You’re pretty sure you hear the door open and then close again – Chris had always been a stickler for time and your five minutes was surely up.

You lose sense of everything when he’s between your legs. It’s nice to just be in this moment with him, a final goodbye.

Gloved fingers against your clit, he urges another orgasm out of you, more powerful than the last.

You’re both wandering hands and needy kisses, soft moans as he slowly ruts into you; savoring every thrust.

The moment ends before you’d like it to; Heisenberg thrusting deep in you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he gasps and moans your name. When he finally pulls back, you can tell he’s blissed after the orgasm, but when reality sets in you see the emotion on his face.

You have to leave.

You’ll be killed if you don’t – he said it himself – but a part of you thinks it’s worth risking. He doesn’t feel the same, you’re sure, considering his metal army would be discovered and the work he’d put in would be for naught.

Revenge is a little more important than a chick he just met a few days ago. You’re being unrealistic, you know that.

“I’ll miss you,” you say, hand cupping his cheek, thumb tracing over his scars.

“And I, you.”

“Hate to break this up, but there’s an extremely tall woman headed this way…” Chris enters the room.

“Fuck,” you jump down from the workbench, pull on your pants – the ripped-up ones from the day you met Heisenberg – they’ll have to do, you’d decided.

“Take the elevator all the way down. You’ll see a tunnel. Head through there.”

You kiss him once more, pulling him into you shamelessly in front of Chris, savoring every moment with him. There’s a spark between the two of you that Chris will never understand.

And you leave without turning back because one look at him and you know you’re staying put – won’t have the guts to walk away.

Unbeknownst to you, Chris lingers in the doorway, arms crossed, staring at Heisenberg.

“You really care for her,” Chris acknowledges.

“You should really leave if you want to make it out of here alive,” he ignores Chris’ comment.

Chris’ eyes narrow. Pointedly, he pulls a business card from his pocket, lifts it toward Heisenberg, slams it down on the table beside him, then follows you down the hallway.

Heisenberg’s eyes trace over the printed lettering and a smirk appears on his face.

•••

You fake dead. That’s how you get out of this. Chris and his team cover for you and in turn you help with the Hound Wolf Squad.

Neither of you talk about what happened in Heisenberg’s factory. Neither of you really talk about any of it, really. And some missions he knows you’re too close to so he leaves you out of it.

You aren’t really together, but Chris crashes at your apartment here and there – another convenience factor thing. And, yes, maybe a few nights you’ve gotten a little too drunk and fallen into each other’s arms. It’s partly pure convenience and partly because loneliness strikes again and you’re thinking of what could have been if you’d stayed behind in the village…

One drunken night, you’re lying in bed beside Chris as he flips through TV stations.

“Did he ever…-” he starts, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. “Never mind.”

You don’t push, but you’re sure he has questions about Heisenberg, sure he’s curious why you fell into your captor’s arms, sure he wonders if it was a Stockholm Syndrome deal after all.

You rarely let yourself think of him, don’t wonder what-if, don’t carry the weight of his story with you, try not to worry about his future…

Without a second thought, you change the subject to the movie he just put on, ignore the ache that settles in your chest.

•••

Months pass; holidays, birthdays. New works crops up and you’re so distracted. It’s a welcomed change. For once you’re enjoying working, not despising being sent out on mission after mission. You’re considering buying yourself a home.

You’re busy for once in a long while and keeping up on things has been trying, but your friends attempt to help keep you level by taking you out once in a while or having a movie night. You’re grateful for the turn your life has taken. Who knew that mission to the village would alter so many things?

You’re waiting on a call back from your colleague, hoping to get information so you can start up on your next project but also hoping to start your weekend soon – a night out with friends is long overdue since you started looking at houses to purchase.

Glancing out your window, you see a family passing on the street below your apartment, a baby in a stroller, a dog on a leash, bike riders and rollerbladers and joyful people completely unaware of any bioweapons in other places.

You shut your curtains, push those thoughts away, close your eyes, and try to steady your breathing.

When your phone rings, you mindlessly swipe to answer.

“Hello?”

The voice on the line stops you in your tracks.

“Hello, kitten.”

#heisenberg #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x you #lemon #smut

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neon-junkie · 3 years

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you shouldn’t have kept me waiting

Summary: Sometimes, sex doesn't go as planned, especially when it's your first time.

Pairing: f!Reader x Flaco Hernández

Word Count: 1864

Rating: NSFW

Tags: First time, First kiss, Friends to lovers, Table sex, Making out.

Notes: Wanted to try a writing style a little different to my usual stuff, and I haven't written about Flaco for like 2 hours, and it's killing me bc hes my husband, so I wrote this lil oneshot <3

You were bored, hunting yet again in Big Valley, dumping corpse after corpse by Cripp's butchering table, hearing endless of comments of "this'll do," and "beautiful!" But he soon told you to "calm down, we have enough to keep me busy for days! How's about you take some time to enjoy yourself? Go for a ride or something?"

And, well, you did exactly what he suggested.

You'd been itching to go and see him again, despite swearing you'd try and stay away for a while. Obsession is the right word for it, considering you used to trail up the mountain to see him once a week, but it had slowly become twice a week, then three times, then four. You were practically moving in at this point, but he didn't mind.

Flaco adores your company, along with a long list of other things about you, and he'd begun listing a few things off whenever you've seen him. "Pretty coat, I hope it's keeping you warm," "your horse is looking healthy, they suit you," "you must be cold, chica, your cheeks are so rosy, but eh, it looks cute."

Oh, yes, he's pinpoints each and every single thing about you, even the things you find unattractive like the bags under your eyes or the occasional cow-lick to your hair. Flaco hadn't told you directly how he feels, but it's hard not to notice from the way his eyes light up every time you've burst through his cabin door, or the way he soon began waiting in his doorway for you to return from your missions, shouting across the frozen lake to ask if you were injured. He doesn't care about the missions, but you he definitely does care about.

Only today went differently.

You thought you were clouding up Flaco's personal space, using the excuse of 'work' to see him as often as you could, and although he'd never shown any disliking to your frequent visits, your mind had convinced you that you were a bit too much, excessive, in his personal space. Once a week is enough to work for somebody, right? You thought it was, until you finally entered his cabin for the first time in weeks to see his furrowed brows and a pout across his face.

"Where have you been?" Flaco had questioned, his voice rough and rugged, monotone like it used to be, back when you first met him.

You explained that you'd been busy doing other things, your trading company, the bounty hunting work, collecting odd items for a lady you met out West, but all your excuses were literally just that in the eyes of Flaco.

"I didn't think I'd see you again," Flaco confessed as he rose from his seat. This wasn't the first time you'd stood against him, tilting your head far back to gaze up at the much larger man, but it felt off today, as if your neck actually hurt from looking up for once. "I was worried something had happened, something... bad, you know?"

You attempted to calm his confusion, explaining that you were fine, just busy, but Flaco still wasn't buying it. Only he finally did the second you reached out to rest your hand on his arm, kneading at him gently, a small reassuring gesture that meant the world to Flaco. He's never really touched you before, the only time being when his hands linger in yours when he hands over payments, and the only time you'd ever touched him was when you wiped some food from his face, and his look of embarrassment is one you'll never forget.

Flaco's facial expressions alone made it obvious that he was crumbling, and he pushed back at his sombrero, letting it fall around his neck as the cord kept it in place, and dipped his head down to your level.

You knew what was coming, you were hoping for the same, and stood on tip toes to meet Flaco in the middle. Your hand continued to knead at his arm, eventually trailing up to his shoulder as the other one joined, and Flaco cupped your jawline so perfectly that he had to move his hands to your waist to ensure your knees wouldn't give way beneath you.

Flaco didn't taste how you thought he would, of rich chewing tobacco or a chain of cigarettes, but of whiskey and the herbs he uses to season his meals. Mint was the strongest taste, and it was rich on his tongue as yours slid across it, Flaco letting out a whimper against your lips, his moustache brushing over the sensitive skin just below your nose.

Desperate kisses had turned needier and needier, just like the hands roaming your body, eventually dipping down to tug at your thighs. You knew what he wanted, and you knew he'd catch you if you somehow fell, so you allowed him to lift you, wrapping your legs around his waist, barely able to cross your ankles over. The sound of an array of items hitting the floor caught you off guard, and you soon realized that Flaco had swept some of his belongings from his table, replacing them with your ass instead, still nipping at your lip as you relaxed against the wood.

Everything about him felt so intoxicating, not just his musk or the way he was holding you, but the groan he let out as you broke the kiss to nip at his neck. Who knew a man so rugged could sound so poetic? and he watched with half-lidded eyes as you moved your hands down his chest, trailing over the thick fur of his coat, over each cold bullet strapped to his bandoliers, and settled at his gun belt.

The belt hit the cabin floor with a thud, and Flaco moved his hands from your thighs to your waist, gently unpicking each button to your pants, though you can sense his eagerness as he fiddles with them. One of your boots is slipped off, followed by your pants and undergarments being pulled from under your ass, letting the cold air hit one leg, and leaving the other clothed.

Flaco popped a thick finger into your mouth before pressing it against your entrance, returning his lips to yours as he slowly pushed himself in, chuckling at the moan you'd let out against his lips. His chuckle soon turned into a sigh once you got your own revenge, reaching beneath his coat to unfasten his pants, and free his thick member from his undergarments, pumping him slowly as you feel his precum run across the back of your fingers.

A pair of dark eyes met yours, gazing at you for mere seconds, yet it felt like minutes. Lips were reunited, and both of you spent some time working at each other, prepping each other, finally able to feel and enjoy the other after too many months of tension and frustration.

You'd guided Flaco to your entrance, looking up at him with lustful eyes as you pressed the tip of his cock to your hole. Flaco pulled his finger from you, "how can I deny you?" he questioned in a voice so deep it made you tremble, and he grinned at your body's response. But Flaco soon began melting into you as he pushed his cock in, taking it inch by inch, both of you sighing in unison once he was fully sheathed inside of you.

You moaned his name and he moaned yours, cupping your jawline with his calloused hand. Flaco nuzzled you briefly, pressing his forehead to yours as his eyes fell shut, before placing a kiss on your forehead. He didn't say anything, and you could tell he was lost for words, but he soon began thrusting into you.

The rolling of his hips was deep and smooth, slow and steady, both pleasurable and painful at the same time. There was no actual pain, Flaco could never hurt you, but it was agony having him go at this speed; you've needed him for so long, and now you finally have him, but of course he's going to make you wait just a little longer. There was a smug grin on his face as you began mewling in his arms, head buried into the curve of his neck, his cold bullets pressed against your cheek as you began to whimper.

"What's a matter?" Flaco questioned in a playful tone. "This not enough for you, eh? You make me wait weeks to see you, and then demand everything at once?"

He wasn't serious, you know that, and it was painfully obvious as he was visibly biting at his lip in an attempt to stop himself from grinning. What a tease. But Flaco was quick to give in, not just because you needed it, but because so did he.

If you said you hadn't thought about this before, you'd be lying; you've imagined Flaco railing you just about everywhere in this cabin, but you always thought the table would be the dodgy spot. It's an old piece of furniture, somehow still standing in the harsh terrain, but remained standing as Flaco slammed into you on top of it. You were careful not to knock the candles over as you relaxed into the wood, your eyes flicking between watching Flaco's length disappear into you, and watching the expression of pure lust on his face.

You were surprised he'd waited this long, seeing as there's been many opportunities to pull you onto his lap, but something must have burst in Flaco's mind when you disappeared for a few weeks, and you wouldn't be surprised if he made a promise to himself to come onto you the second you returned.

The sounds Flaco made were intoxicating, grumbles and groans at all different levels of volume, but he fell silent as he came. Flaco had pulled you up off the table and wrapped his arms around you, holding himself deep inside and burying his head into the curve of your neck, arching his back over so he could hold you, and be held at the same time. "Mierda," he muttered to himself, his voice muffled by your coat. "Too much, too fast, augh!" he grumbled, and finally stood upright to look at you.

"I'm sorry," he had said, and avoided eye contact with you as you tilted your head in confusion. "I... I came too fast," he grumbled, and slipped himself from you.

You had to bite back on your laughter. Really? This grown man, a legend, is pouting like a child because he came within minutes during your first time together. "It's alright," you smiled at him. "We'll just have to build your stamina back up, hm?" you suggested.

Flaco looked at you blankly before bursting into laughter, placing a kiss to your temple and then your cheek. "You tolerate me too much," he chuckled, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his heart at your kind response.

"Now, come on," he said as he pulled you up from the table, letting you dress yourself as he tucked himself away. "Let's hear all about what you've been doing over these last few weeks..."

#rdrwriting #you shouldnt have kept me waiting #Flaco Hernández #f!reader #fem reader #female reader #reader insert #smut #nsft #rdr2 #rdo #red dead online #red dead redemption 2 #Flaco Hernández x you #Flaco Hernández x reader #flachoes #first time #friends to lovers

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natromanxoff · 3 years

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Sounds - April 13, 1974

Queen street

Erskine does it again! This week, Queen`s drummer Roger Meddows Taylor

Gosh it would be so easy but I don`t think I can trash on a man who says he hated “Bridge Over Troubled Water” even if he does fruit about with a band who, it has been decided, are the new persona non grata.

Are Queen really that obnoxious? You tell me. I wouldn`t rightly know, never having heard them you see. I tried but the albums never arrived in time. They were despatched no doubt, strapped to the horny hindquarters of a rheumatic tortoise still making its way past Victoria Station.

So anyway, at least they`ve inspired extremes of opinion and a predominantly negative reaction from the press all of which is good for business because then the kids who buy the albums and go to the gigs can feel that they know something we don`t – and they could just be right.

A rather smug lady who figures she discovered the band has finished her interview and is flicking through the papers sneering at this week`s putdowns of her new pets and she also figures she knows something the rest of us don`t and makes quite sure everyone in the office realises it. I tell you, socially your rock clique has to be the most exciting thing since the day the paperclips arrived.

“I don`t pretend to understand the workings of the journalistic mind.” Drummer Roger Taylor`s looking svelte in felt – a black jacket with piped seams festooned with chains and silver coins. There had, it appeared, been a problem with the publicity shots. The one that you won`t be seeing on this page because it was too blurred and boring was officially approved. It had a `yes` scribbled on the back. The shots we are using instead are not approved. The smug lady shrinks in horror at the thought and my o my I`d sure like to stick one on her… Julie Andrews ain`t got nothin` on this doll.

Anyway, it`s hot and clear outside and I would much rather be cruising slowly round South London looking at office girls with trim little jugs and downy earlobes, but onward we go serving and returning the cliches like your verbal Ken Rosewalls.

“There are really only two things that hurt,” he continues, “firstly when we`re called a hype – that`s one thing we`re not. We`re making it in the old-fashioned way which is initially through selling records through playing concerts… enabling the record company to get behind you for the second album. The other thing is that they cast doubts on the musicianship which is one thing we`re really sure about… obviously we think we`re bloody good… oh yes, and we`ve also been accused of being a part of supermarket rock – which is a bit much when you write your own material.

“Considering the abuse we`ve had lately, I`m surprised that the new album has done so well. I suppose it`s basically that audiences like the band.”

Yes, I `spect it is.

“We`ve had the name for four years now, believe it or not – most people don`t – and it was Freddie`s idea. It was just a reflection of the social world we were in at the time, when he and I were working together on Kensington Market – it was good then. In those days there was a pretty eccentric crowd there, people in sombreros and a lot of them were gay and a lot of them pretended to be and it just seemed to fit in. I didn`t like the name originally and neither did Brian, but we got used to it. We thought that once we`d got established the music would become the identity more than the name…”

And how about this “New Zeppelin” tag with you in the States?

“Oh that`s happened here too, but it seems mainly an American thing. We haven`t been there yet but the first album did quite well there. Apparently we`re known to an extent on the East coast and in the South… sorry to go on about journalists but it seems to be a trait to describe any sort of band that the journalist isn`t particularly aware of in relation to other bands.

We`ve been compared to Alice Cooper, Rod Stewart, Zeppelin, Purple… everybody, even Geordie and Nazareth. In fact, Geordie`s album was reviewed the other day and they got accused of sounding like us which made me laugh…

“There must be parallels but we`re not aware of them. Obviously we have our heroes. I personally think Zeppelin and the Who are the two best rock bands in the world. I`ve got all their albums and I`ve listened to them a lot. I still think John Bonham is one of the most underrated rock drummers, so I suppose we`ve absorbed some of that somewhere…”

The debut Queen album was universally ignored but is now selling in increasing quantities whilst “Queen II” has been universally panned and is selling in even larger quantities.

“We took so much trouble over that album, possibly too much, but when we finished we felt really proud. Immediately it got really bad reviews so I took it home to listen to again and thought Christ are they right? But after hearing it a few weeks later I still like it. I think it`s great. We`ll stick by it.

“There are a lot of things on the first album I don`t like, though, for example the drum sound. There are parts of it which may sound contrived but it is very varied and it has lots of energy… but then I think one of the best albums last year was the “Mott” album and that had loads of inconsistencies and rough bits…”

Roger has `O` and `A` levels, a biology degree and is a former dropout from dental college. He also says he learnt from observing such luminaries as Pete Townshend and Ian Hunter who, he says, has “an interesting philosophy”. He is, Taylor adds, “far more intelligent than you might give him credit for”.

We are digressing. Could Roger see himself slipping into a Rick Wakeman lifestyle?

“To be quite honest I`d like to have a house here, one in Cornwall, a house in Greece and move back and forth between them but still be totally involved in music, but perhaps getting to that level removes the necessary paranoia that keeps you going.”

Oh yes and Roger says the stages were too small, the gigs too crowded, and in general the sound was bad on their recent British tour and I have to wonder because, as I say, I know very little about Queen, but to me it seems like rampant craziness to be starting yet another rock and roll band on the rise up the slippery pole at this point in time with all those prospects of marathon Stateside tours and continuing abuse from the press and an image which to say the least, has become a trifle hack-kneed. Although Roger claims it to be totally uncontrived although Zandra Rhodes is their stage costumier which must mean something… perhaps, as the lovely and indubitably Polish Pete Makowski says, that they are trying to straddle two markets at the same time – your progressive can-crushing and your pretty-boy teenscream, but I don`t know. It`s a nice day outside, the public bar awaits me and I have to investigate that torso of a man in his mid-40s and subsequently I have to put the cat out and mow the lawn…

Credits to Geir Myklebust.

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #roger meddows taylor #queen scans #sounds april 1974

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frankhightower · 11 months

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Recordatorio: Día de la Independencia YCH ($20 USD)

¡Tu Personaje Aquí! Esto es un recordatorio de que estoy vendiendo dibujos para el venidero Día de la Independencia, ya que muchos países (incluyendo la "gran nación del norte") lo celebran en julio. Esta muestra es con la bandera Argentina, ¡pero puedo cambiarlo a cualquier bandera! Translation: Your Character Here! This is a reminder that I'm selling drawings for the upcoming Independence Day, since many countries (including the "great northern nation"* celebrate it in July. This sample is with the Argentinian flag, but I can change it to any flag! *Translator's note: yes, this nickname for the U.S. is a thing in Argentina. I may not know anything about Argentinian independence day traditions (part of the reason I chose them to challenge myself) but I do read.

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ilovesport2121 · 3 years

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Learn How to Play Football in 9 Steps

1. Understanding The Rule Of The Game

Matches are 11-a-side, with 10 field players who cannot use their hands and 1 goalkeeper who is allowed to catch the ball inside the penalty area. You must always tackle the ball, not your opponent. Games are split into two 45-minute halves and the winner is whoever scores more goals than their opponent in the given time. To score, you have to send the ball into your opponent's goal. The offside rule is what spices things up: you cannot be closer to the goal than the last field defender when receiving the ball from your partner.

2. Technical Exercises Before Playing Football

Every footballer must train to run fast. To do this, it’s important to ensure that you warm up properly and work on your speed. Each and every muscle in your body is used to maximize your running potential.

3. Learn To Do A Header

Depending on the situation in the game, this technique can be used to clear the ball, pass to a teammate or score a goal. A header involves touching the ball with your head (ideally your forehead).

To give it more power, bend your legs, swing your chest backward and then push it forward by tensing your abs. As you finish this swinging movement, push your neck forwards too. As for where to hit it, try to position the ball on your forehead. It's just the right shape for the job as well as being the boniest, and therefore least painful, part of your head. For pinpoint accuracy in your positioning, take a few steps to get yourself in just the right place. When you do a header, don't close your eyes: keep them open for better aim.

‍ 4. Discover Passing Techniques

SHORT PASS A short pass is one that rolls along the ground to make it easier for the teammate receiving the ball to control. You stand on one foot and use the other to kick the ball. Place the foot you're standing on level with the ball, around 20 cm to the left if you're right-handed. It should be facing your target. It's also important that your shoulders are facing your target. Kick the ball with the flat of your foot, in other words, the inside. To do so, turn your foot out and aim to kick the ball with the central part. Bend the leg you're standing on and turn your other leg side-on. This will give you better stability and a more fluid movement.

LONG PASS This pass lets you send the ball to a teammate who is far away from you. The ball should go up into the air so that opponents cannot intercept it so easily.

Position the foot you're standing on 20 cm to the left of the ball if you're right-handed. Kick the bottom part of the ball close to where it's touching the ground using the top of the inside of your foot. Make sure you keep this leg straight to give the ball more power. When you kick the ball, extend the opposite arm to your kicking foot as this will help you keep your balance.

5. Improve Your Dribbling Skills

Dribbling (in football terms) allows you to maneuver the ball around the field without losing possession. Mastering the skill takes a lot of hours of practice but hey, you'll have to start somewhere. We'll take you through the basics.

First of all, it's important to know that there are almost 9 types of dribbling drills, namely;‍ ‍The Sombrero Dribble - A sombrero kick allows you to dribble past your opponent. It consists in flicking the the ball over the your opponent's head and resuming dribbling on the other side of them‍ The Nutmeg Dribble - The between-the-leg pass, commonly known as a 'nutmeg.' Nutmegging is where you tap the ball through an opponent’s legs and recover it behind them. Most of the time, it's by tricking your opponent do that you succeed in getting them to part their legs so that you can pass the ball between them‍ The Run Around Dribble - The run around allows you to “dribble” the ball past an opponent in front of you.The essence of this technique is to flick the ball past your opponent while running around the opposite side of them, to then recover the ball.‍ The Step-Over - The stepover allows you to dribble around an opponent in front of you. It consists of tricking your opponent by making them think that you're going to dribble the ball in one direction, and then actually dribbling it in another. It's possible to do a stepover with each leg and then to link them together one after the other. ‍ The Feint Dribble - The feint allows you to avoid an opponent who is in front of you.The move is similar to a step-over and it consists of making the opponent think you are going to move in one direction so that you can quickly move the other way. It is called a feint because the body movement tricks the opponent without needing to move the ball.‍ Quickly Turn the Ball Dribble- It's one of the most commonly-used dribbling techniques and allows you to changes directions in one quick movement the quick-turn consists in placing your foot on the opposite side of the ball to the direction direction to that the is currently travelling in.‍ The Roulette Turn Dribble - A roulette allows you to dribble the ball around an opponent; To do the roulette, you should dribble the ball with your strong foot.our strong foot is the one with which you are most confident when shotting the ball. When you find yourself facing an opponent at close range (around 1 metre away), roll the ball backwards with the sole of your stronger foot.‍ The Two Touch Dribble - A two touch dribble will assist you in beating an opponent who is directly in front of you. The move involves flicking the ball quickly from one foot to the other in order to change your direction of play.‍ The Drag Back Dribble - A drag-back allows you to get away from an opponent by going around them, whether they are in front of you or slightly to the side. ‍Your initial practice can start by taking your football to open spaces and practicing your dribble back and forth. Dribble toward a direction with one-foot, turn around and then dribble back with your opposite foot.To get used to different types of touches, turn your body to the side and do the same thing. As and when you get more comfortable, gradually increase your dribbling pace while keeping the ball under control.

‍ 6. Learn To Control The Ball

Good ball control is very important in football because it allows you to move around without losing the ball. Ball control involves keeping the ball close to you so that you can frequently change the pace and direction.

Take small steps and guide the ball using your stronger foot (whichever feels most comfortable kicking).

7. How To Do A Throw In

A throw-in is essentially that moment when you restart the game after the ball has gone out of the boundaries of play.

It might not feel like a very glamorous skill to master but it has an importance. Since you’ve set up your mind to learn how to play football, you need to learn it through and through. An effective throw can enable a successful attacking move and helps you maintain possession.

When is a throw-in awarded?‍ A throw-in is awarded when the ball has passed over the touchline, either on the ground or in the air. The throw is taken from the spot where the ball has gone out of play A throw-in goes to the opposite team of the person who gets the ball out of play How to take a throw-in? Hold the ball with both hands, one on each side. Place your feet on the spot from where the ball exited the field of play. Arch your back. Lift the ball up and over your head. Release the ball with a forward flick of the wrists toward the direction of your teammate in order to maintain possession. Re-enter the game but don't touch the ball until someone else has.

8. How To Be A Better Goalkeeper While you’re learning how to be a good football player, why not also learn how to be a better goalkeeper. The role of a goalie is an important one in determining a teams success. The primary role of the goalkeeper is to stop and catch the ball when a player of the opposition shoots at their goal. A blocked shot not only preserves the score of the game but can shift the momentum of the entire game.

‍There are a lot of methods to stop a ball depending on the precision and the strength of the shot. Here are some tips to ensure you become the best keeper you can be.‍ Develop your kicking as well as throwing skills. Prioritize timings. Stay focused on the game all the time even if the ball is away from your 18 yard box. Always keep your eye on the ball. Try and read the body language of your opponent. Get your feet, hands and eyes in sync Enhance your communication with your teammates

9. Learn How To Defend While Playing Football

Learn how to position yourself to defend in football. This is an important stance in learning how to play football. All the players in the team who do not have possession of the ball have to defend. Their goal is to stop their opponents from scoring a goal, to provoke them into making errors and to intercept the ball.

In most football matches, each player has a direct opponent, in other words they have a player they have to mark and defend against,when their team does not have possession of the ball. Always position yourself between your opponent and the goal you are protecting. Stay around two metres from them. Move back when they move forwards through bending your legs and angling yourself at at a 45 degree angle to them. Keep your focus on the ball. Be ready to intervene if your opponent leaves too large a distance between themselves and the ball in order to intercept or clear it away.

Note which is the preferred foot of your opponent. Once you have identified it, angle yourself at 45 degrees on the side of their strong footing order to force them to dribble the ball with their weaker foot. The situation will become much less dangerous for your team! You now know how yo defend properly in football! Now that you’ve learnt how to play football, there’s no reason to not get on the pitch immediately. But wait, make sure you first pick up the right set of gear to get going.

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lovehugsandcandy · 5 years

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Junk and Ash

A/N: @bi-outta-cordonia, your post about Colt’s cactus broke my heart and this came out. Thank you (?) for the angst. I am also still working on requests but wasn’t getting anywhere until this came out. Sorry.

Pairing: Colt-focused (Colt x MC, if you look), ROD

Length: 761 words

Rating: PG-13 (Swearing)

Summary: Colt returns to the garage one last time.

Tags: @deimosensblog @alegria1580 @choicesarehard @thefarrari @client-327 @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown@soniadotalves@jolietmaraud @hazah@flowerpowell@poeticscolt@brightpinkpeppercorn @zaira-oh-zaira @powdesiree0816 @umiumichan

This is stupid. Colt knows this is stupid. You never want to make the obvious play and this is nothing if not obvious.

He looks up and down the street, again. Dark. Still. Other than a car backfiring four minutes ago, he’s heard nothing, seen no one, for the last 11 minutes.

He told himself he would wait 15 but the standing, the waiting…not his strength. He knows, God he knows how dumb this is but he’ll be quick. Just a quick look around and then out, gone before The Brotherhood shows up.

With one last look, a quick dart of his head, he pushes himself off the wall, out of the darkness, and crosses the street, ducking under the caution tape and crossing into the soot and debris. It still smells like smoke here, faint but enough to burn his lungs, evoke the memories of that awful night.

He shakes his head. He can’t think; he has to move. The concrete floor has soot everywhere, outlines of footsteps still visible, even in the dark. It’s creepy, the walls almost entirely gone, some piles of bricks rising from the exterior. The fire wasn’t hot enough to burn the metal, so most of the tool boxes are still standing. He runs his hand over a lift; though the metal is there, the electronics have undoubtedly been destroyed. It’s all junk now. All of it. Ruined, useless, lost junk. Him included.

Further back, into the one place he knows he needs to go, the one place he wonders if he can bear. Past the skeletons of cars and debris, back as far as he can go, bricks barely standing, he walks into his dad’s office.

He needs to sit, needs a minute, he would sit, but there’s no chair, barely anything left here. Anything wood is long gone, the chairs, table, top of the desk. All the papers are ash; he picks up a pile to watch it fall through his fingers. The memories here, fuck, the memories. Far too few, not enough time spent with his dad. He feels a flare of anger at all that he missed while he was away, all the time the crew had with him, the time Logan got with him. He makes a fist, knuckles white. He can’t think about that now. He has to move.

He starts looking; there’s not much here, but he needs to look, to search. The filing cabinets were open so all the papers are gone. A few keys in the bottom of a drawer, useless now. The safe, stuck in the corner, relatively untouched, but he knows what’s in there. He doesn’t need any of it; there’s no MPC anymore.

The last place is the desk. The top was destroyed, burnt up, covering everything in a thin layer of ash; it’s easy to peer over the top and just start looking, inside. There’s not much there, ash, ash, and more ash, feeling around in the dark when he stops. His hand has hit something, irregular shape, a piece of plastic? How? He pulls it out and examines; it’s pitch black inside but he needs no light to know what this is.

Pop kept this?

This stupid piece of shit? He looks, squinting into the darkness, at the stupid sombrero hat, the mustache on the cactus. He chuckled, blinking hard, trying and failing to keep his eyes dry. Of all the things he could keep, this? This was Colt’s first dash ornament, from his first car, before he because obsessed with the bike and it’s roar and it’s siren call of freedom. He hadn’t seen the cactus in years, didn’t know or care where it ended up, but his pop?

He flicked it with a finger, watching the stupid plant shake in his hand. He almost put it back, in the hollows of the desk, when he paused, considering. He didn’t need it on his bike but maybe, someone with a car? Someone with a car might want it, someone with a pink import and a colorful sleeve, someone who made him feel like it wasn’t just him against the world.

He shoved it in his pocket, quickly. He knew his time was up. With one last look around, one last check for something, anything else of his dad, he snuck out, slinking through the street, back to the shadows, pausing at the corner for one last look. One last tear. Then, off into the night, before The Brotherhood could catch him, before the memories overtook him. Time to move.

#playchoices fanfic #colt kaneko #colt x mc #choices rod

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psychosistr · 5 years

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Los Caballeros Malvados- Episode 1: Nope-a-Cabana

Summary: Donald has the worst birthday in the history of all birthdays, but it seems like it might turn around after he meets a shifty but cunning parrot and a tough but slightly crazy rooster.

Notes: Inspired by this awesome picture drawn by @levtuve featuring their evil José design, evil Donald design by raisa_art, and bandit Panchito design by kichiroart, this is sort of a fate/role-swap!AU featuring the Three Caballeros as the villains. Enjoy!

(Also, I left links to what I believe are the correct pages for raisa_art and kichiroart’s instagram accounts, but if I somehow got the wrong ones or if there’re any other social media anyone knows of that I can link to them, please let me know.)

Next Chapter->

“Throughout history, there has been a never ending battle between light and dark- between the forces of good and the forces of evil.” A dark voice speaks while images of the cosmos and several strange worlds within float by in a sea of chaos.

“For the light, there are foolishly brave heroes that fight to preserve peace and order among the realms…” A golden glimmer in the distance shines like a beacon in the chaos.

“And, for the dark, there are greedy, black-hearted villains that fight for their own gain and to bring chaos to the universe.” On a floating chunk of land on the other side of the barren battlefield, a large, dark shadow looms over the vast emptiness with three figures glowing blue, red, and green standing on the land below.

“For many years, the scales of battle were tipped in favor of the light. Until THEY appeared-” The blue, red, and green figures stepped out from under the shadow’s cover, looking ready for battle. “The Three Caballeros!”

“Ready, boys?” The blue figure was the first to speak. He was a duck dressed in a dark parody of a super outfit with a black base color, dark blue cape, blue gloves, a light blue belt, dark boots, a blue sailor hat, and a black mask around glowing purple eyes.

“I was born ready!” The red figure was the next to speak. He was a rooster that fit the description of a classic evil bandito with a sombrero, red serape, red bolero pants, spurs, guns holstered on a brown belt, black fingerless gloves, and a white skeleton-beak bandana tied over his real beak.

“While I may not have been born ready, I am certainly ready now.” The green figure was the last to speak, his voice suave and confident. He was a green parrot in a more casual outfit than his companions, consisting of a dark unbuttoned jacket with matching pants, a purple buttoned-up shirt, a red belt, a light hat with a black stripe, yellow gloves, and a dark necklace with a black pendant inscribed with a symbol that seemed to be a layered circle with several intricate lines crossing in the middle of it like a compass with more lines and dots in the middle and one shape like a star outside of each quarter of the circle.

“Good. Now,” The duck looked towards the source of golden light in the distance. “ATTACK!!” He shouted as he led the charge towards the light.

At his command, the other two charged into battle alongside him.

The rooster drew his guns from their holsters and fired several rounds at their targets. The parrot flicked his wrists and a few knives slid into his waiting hands, a black energy surrounding them before he threw them in the same direction. The duck was the last to attack, raising his hands that glowed with the same purple energy as his eyes before he thrust his fists forward to fire off a pair of fist-shaped energy projectiles.

The golden light finally moved, revealing itself to be two people: One was a tall woman clad in golden armor with a bow held tightly in her hands and a book bound on her back. The other was a goose dressed in a hooded white robe with golden accents holding a wooden staff.

The woman moved first, running forward to meet the attacks head-on. She raised her bow and fired arrows made of golden energy at the bullets and knives to deflect them. She then did the same to one of the magical blasts, but the other was too close and almost hit her.

Luckily for her, the goose raised his staff and pointed it in her direction, summoning a mystic barrier of golden energy that blocked the attack at the last second. He let out a relieved breath when he saw that she was unharmed and she turned back slightly to give him a thumbs-up in thanks.

They were not given much time to rest, though, as the trio of dark warriors was closing in on them.

The duck pointed at the ground in front of them and drew two circle in the air with his index and ring-fingers. This summoned two portals of glowing purple energy on the ground directly in the path of the rooster and the parrot. The two birds leapt into the portals without hesitation, already preparing for their next attack. The duck then pointed in the direction of the golden-clad woman and flicked the rest of his fingers open in her direction to shoot two sparks of purple energy towards her.

The sparks struck the area behind her before she had time to react, the energy forming two portals that quickly opened so the rooster and parrot could leap out at her. The rooster had holstered his guns, leaving his hands free so he could grapple with the strong woman, proving himself an even match for her in a power-struggle. Fortunately for him and unfortunately for her, the parrot was not involved in this little struggle and was free to attack at his leisure. He smirked as he held up a knife pulsating with black energy, making sure she saw it before he slashed her exposed arm with it.

“AAAH!” The woman let out a pained shout when the blade left a glowing black gash on her arm, the pain making her elbow bend slightly and giving the rooster the opening he needed to push her back.

While the pair of birds continued their two-on-one fight against the heroic warrior, her companion tried to aide her. “Xandra!” He tapped his staff on the ground and attempted to send a white current of energy towards her, but, before he could, a dark spike suddenly thrust itself up out of the ground and broke the magic’s path.

He looked back to where the duck had slowed his approach, now walking at a calm pace with a smirk on his bill. “Aww, what’s the matter, Shelby?” He asked tauntingly, the dark magic on his hands flaring up to cover his whole body. “Afraid of the dark?” He clenched his hands into fists and thrust them down towards the ground, the dark magic shooting out of them and propelling him into the air like rockets.

He controlled the propulsion from his magic with ease and landed right in front of the goose. The two gathered their power into their respective weapons- the duck into his fists and the goose into his staff- before clashing in a battle of light and dark magic.

The duck attacked with his charged fists while the goose blocked the hits with his staff. Each point of contact set off sparks of black and white energy. This went on until the goose spotted an opening and used his staff to knock the duck’s feet out from under him. The duck let out a startled squawk when he fell onto his back, unintentionally giving the goose a clear shot at the other three combatants.

Now that he had a second to aim, the goose pointed his staff at his injured comrade and fired a beam of white light that hit her from the side. The white energy spread along her body, healing the multitude of black gashes that had gathered on her body during the fight.

The assistance came just in time, it seemed, as she was currently backed against the edge of the chunk of land they were battling on. Now that she’d gotten her strength back, she turned the tables on her attackers by gripping the rooster’s hands and spinning around, knocking him into the parrot that had still been nearby and preparing to attack again. She knocked the parrot off the edge and threw the startled rooster down with him.

“Aaaaaaaah!” The pair shouted in alarm as they plummeted towards the dark abyss below.

“NO!!” The duck scrambled to his feet and rushed to the edge to see where his companions were. Much to his relief, a furry winged creature swooped down and caught the pair before they fell too far. “Whew..” He sighed in relief before turning his attention back to his opponents. He looked just in time to avoid a golden arrow that was aimed right at his head. “Woah!” He dodged it just in time by leaning back and retaliated by shooting a blast of dark magic back at the attacking warriors.

The goose summoned another barrier to block the attack from the front, but he failed to notice the other two villains reappearing along with their beastly winged mount behind the pair of heroes. With their attention focused on the duck in front of them, the poor warriors of light didn’t even know what hit them until it was too late.

The heroes suddenly fell over with stabbing pains- the goose from a bullet shot through his chest from behind and the woman from a glowing knife in the center of her back. With startled cries of pain, the two attempted to stay close together as the goose threw up a dome-like barrier to protect them from further harm.

The trio of villains attempted to break the barrier while the shadow that had previously loomed over them returned. It revealed itself to be a large, demonic creature with dark skin and glowing eyes and horns- looking like something sent straight from the underworld.

“Stand aside, fools!” The creature’s voice was loud in the vast area with nothing in its way. The villains were quick to obey the demon’s command, all of them taking several steps back just in time to avoid the giant fist that swung down to smash the barrier with ease. The heroes tried to get up, but with a simple flick of its fingers the demon sent the goose flying over the edge with a panicked cry. “Pathetic.”

“Baron!” The woman shouted as she tried to grab onto him, but was stopped by the three evil adversaries blocking her path. The duck raised one of his hands covered by dark magic and used it to roughly shove her back to the ground, causing the knife still lodged in her back to dig in painfully. “Nhh!” She winced and tried to get up again, but, when she raised her head, she found herself with a darkly glowing hand, a black-energy coated knife, and a gun all pointed directly at her face.

“Face it, toots,” The duck said while giving her a cold, dead-pan look as the three of them prepared to finish her off. “You’ve lost.”

“No..” She said in a quiet voice, her tone soft and filled with a deep-seated pain. “No!” She repeated louder, slamming her fist against the ground in frustration before looking up at the three birds with an expression that was somewhere between despair and rage. “How could you do this?! You’ve betrayed everything your ancestors fought for! Doomed everyone and everything you’ve ever known! And for WHAT?!”

“Hmm..” The duck tilted his head to the side in thought for a moment before looking back down at her with a smirk. “Just because we wanted to, I guess.”

“That sounds about right.” The parrot agreed with a matching smirk.

“Yeah, seemed like fun.” The rooster joined in with a chuckle, the smile clear in his eyes even if the lower half of his face wasn’t visible.

The three birds and the demon looming over them shared a laugh at both the look of shock on her face and a general sense of joy from the destruction that they caused. Once they were done laughing, they all prepared to attack as one and finish her off for good when-

Wait, I think this needs some context.

“What?!” The dark voice shouts as the scene suddenly freezes, looking as if someone paused the universe. “Context?! We are bearing witness to the ultimate battle of good and evil and you want to stop at the BEST PART for the sake of CONTEXT?!!!”

Yeah, it feels weird to start at the end, doesn’t it?

“Are you kidding me?! What’s weird is stopping in the middle just to go back to the beginning!” The voice argues.

It doesn’t have to be all the way back- most people already know how it starts. We’ll just start close to the beginning, deal?

“Fiiiiine..” The voice concedes, but still sounds annoyed. “Just don’t take forever! I hate cliff hangers!”

I won’t- I promise. Now then, let’s just rewind this back towards the beginning…

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

The story starts a few months ago, following the misfortune of one poor, down-on-his-luck duck named Donald. Donald had been trying to celebrate his birthday by having a good breakfast before going to see his girlfriend, Daisy, when, in a series of unfortunate, almost cosmically timed events, he proceeded to lose his job due to giving a kid a bad haircut, have his house burn down because he left a kettle burning on the stove, and, the cherry on top, his girlfriend dumped him without even listening to why he wasn’t able to come pick her up from the bust station. Yes, everything that could have possibly gone wrong went wrong for poor Donald.

That is, until he received a letter informing him that one of his relatives had passed away and left him a sizable inheritance.

With nothing left for him in Duckburg, Donald took his meager suitcase packed with the few singed belongings he still had to his name and took a cab out to the New Quackmore Institute. After being dropped off at what looked to be an impressively large and expensive mansion, Donald felt like his luck was finally turning around. He went in, made himself a sandwich, and got comfortable in what he thought was HIS new home.

Unfortunately for Donald, the actual owner of the estate, a large goose dressed in a dapper looking suit, came down to angrily inform him that he had the wrong address- stating that the property left to him was actually the address next door.

After being forcibly thrown out by the goose’s guards, Donald found the actual house left to him and was…less than pleased…

“What a dump..” Donald muttered to himself while looking at the shack with an odd mask hanging above the doorway. “Well, at least it’s all mine…”

“Mr.Duck, I presume?” A woman’s voice interrupted his train of thought and he looked up to see a female dog in a suit staring him down with an expression that said she would rather be anywhere else.

“Who wants to know?” He asked while eyeing her with a scowl.

“I am the executor of your great grandfather’s estate.” She gave as an introduction without even bothering to say her name. “Will the others be joining us?”

“Others?” Donald echoed back with a confused expression.

As if on cue, a long-distance travel bus pulled up in front of the cabana. Donald could see several attractive women through the windows and, secretly, hoped it would be one of them stepping out. Instead, a green parrot dressed in a light yellowish-brown suit and hat that looked more than a little worn was the one to step out.

“Thank you for such a wonderful trip.” He said with an accented voice, turning to wink at the passengers still in the bus. “Your company made the views even more lovely. Alas, I must be on my way.”

“Aww!” The girls pouted at him.

“Don’t go, José!” Some of them actually began to cry.

“I LOVE YOU!!!” One of them screamed desperately.

“Do not worry, minhas lindas damas- it is goodbye for now, but our hearts shall forever be connected.” He said smoothly as he blew them a kiss. The girls swooned and some of them even fainted from the cheesy words and action.

“Ahem.” He was about to leave the bus entirely, when the bus driver cleared his throat pointedly and gestured to the toll box. “Ain’t you forgettin’ soemthin’?”

“Not to worry, my friend.” The parrot smirked briefly before looking at the girls with another wink. “I shall hold an extra-special place in my heart for the kind senhora who pays for my ride.”

Every girl that was still conscious on the bus raced to the toll box, pulling out cash, credit cards, and even taking off their own jewelry as collateral.

“I’ll pay it!”

“No, I will!”

“OUT OF MY WAY!!!”

The bus rocked and shook from the chaos before the driver was knocked forward into his seat and accidentally stepped on the gas, sending the bus surging forward.

Once it was out of sight down the road, the parrot turned his attention to Donald and the lawyer, removing the light-colored hat from atop his head as he bowed. “José Carioca, at your service.” He gave both Donald and the lawyer a charmingly suave smile before kissing both of them on the hand in a gentlemanly manner, doing so first to the lawyer and then Donald.

Donald blinked in surprise at the action before snatching his hand back and shoving the parrot away a few inches. “Alright, that’s enough!” He snapped while subconsciously holding the hand that had just been kissed. “What are YOU doing here?!”

José seemed unperturbed by Donald’s harsh words and actions, simply shrugging it off as he explained himself. “I am here to claim my inheritance. Which is quite fortuitous, seeing as my finances ran out a few states back.”

“What?” Donald asked while eyeing the guy suspiciously. He was too charming, too nice- guys like that were always trouble.

“I am broke.” José clarified with a chuckle while drawing closer to Donald and wrapping an arm around his shoulders in a gesture that was far too comfortable for Donald’s liking. “But, do not worry for me, meu amigo.” He side-eyed Donald with that charming look of his. “After all, money hardly matters when Lady Luck has smiled at the two of us, sim?”

Donald shrugged the bird’s arm off and glared at him. “What do you mean ‘the two of us’?”

“Actually,” The lawyer cut in before he could get an answer. “There’s three of you.”

“Three?!” Donald shouted while turning to glare at her instead.

Again, as if on cue, they heard the humming of an engine- only this time, instead of being on the ground, the sound was coming from above them. WAY above them.

The pair of birds watched looked up to see a plane passing over head. A single figure jumped out the side with a long shout of “YAAA-OOOOOOOO!!!” as it hurtled towards the ground.

“….???” They watched as the figure got closer and closer, waiting in anticipation for the parachute to expand behind it, but, instead, they both cringed slightly when the figure smacked into the ground- the parachute finally deploying AFTER its wearer was face down in the stone walk-way. “!!!”

There was a tense moment of silence, neither of them wanting to be the first to lift up the fabric to see if the person was alive or not.

Then, as if nothing had happened at all, the person stood up from beneath the parachute and tossed it off of him. “Oof, well, that was a rush.” It turned out to be a rooster dressed in a red charro jacket, matching bolero pants, spurs, a brown belt with guns holstered to it, and a big sombrero on his head. He brought a hand to his neck and tipped his head side-to-side, popping a few joints in the process. “Guess that tour guide gave me a faulty parachute by mistake…or he was wrong about it being self-opening..”

“I think he just wanted you dead..” Donald said quietly while watching the rooster with a look of bewilderment- seriously, how was this guy still alive?!

“Really? You think so?” He asked as if the idea had honestly never occurred to him. “Huh..” He shrugged it off and tossed the parachute aside. “Oh well, now I don’t feel so bad.” Donald was about to ask what he wouldn’t feel bad about, when he noticed the plane crashing miles away along the horizon. The rooster ignored the sounds of the crashing plane and smiled brightly at them as he took both his and José’s hands to greet them properly. “Hola, amigos! Yo soy Panchito ‘Pistoles’ Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González III- but my friends call me Panchito.” He chuckled as he let go of their hands and put his own hands on his hips. “So, you guys got an inheritance too? Talk about good luck, huh?”

Donald turned away from the new-comer and José to look at the lawyer, gesturing in the direction of the other two without looking at them. “Who ARE these guys?!”

“Uh, I just told you, remember?” The rooster dressed in red asked with a tilt of his head before gesturing to himself. “Yo soy Panchito ‘Pistoles’ Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González III.”

“But your friends call you Panchito, sim?” José finished with a chuckle, putting his arm around the rooster’s shoulders similarly to what he did with Donald earlier.

“¡Sí!” Panchito grinned and put his own arm around the parrot’s waist in return. “This guy gets it!”

Donald closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, feeling like he was about to blow from how casual those two were being about the whole situation. “Rrrrrr..!!”

“Haha!” Panchito laughed and grabbed Donald with his other arm, wrapping it around the duck’s shoulders and pulling him into the friendly embrace. “Aw, come on, amigo! We just got a rundown old shack, a sleazy lawyer, and two new friends!”

“Who wouldn’t love all of this?” José asked sarcastically while rolling his eyes.

“ME!” Donald snapped while shoving Panchito’s arm off of his shoulders and stepping away from the overly-friendly birds.

“A-hem.” Their attention was drawn back to the lawyer as she held up a piece of paper. “If we’re quite done, allow me to do my job and read the will.” They waited in silence for her to proceed, Donald doing so more begrudgingly than the other two. “ ‘I, Clinton Coot, bequeath my museum collection and explorer’s cabana to my great-grandson, Donald Duck, and the other direct descendants of the Three Caballeros.’ ”

“The three caba-what-o’s?” All three birds asked in perfect synchronization. Donald was a little relieved to find that they seemed just as confused as he was for once.

The lawyer rolled her eyes slightly in annoyance before enunciating the word as if she was speaking to toddlers. “Cab-ah-yerrrr-o’s”. She stretched the word out, even rolling the r a little for pronunciation.

Donald hated being talked down to and put his hands on his hips while glaring at the lawyer. “Watch it, lady.” He warned before gesturing towards Panchito and José again. “Now, let me get this straight- you’re saying I have to share this dump with these two weirdos?”

“I beg your pardon.” José said while placing a hand on Donald’s shoulder. It felt less friendly this time, though, and more threatening with how he was squeezing it, making the friendly smile he gave Donald feel like a warning despite his tone of voice staying the same. “I believe the word you are looking for is ‘eccentric’.”

Panchito just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Eh, I’m kind of weird, not gonna lie.”

The lawyer just ignored them and walked to the door while holding a pair of golden scissors. “Gentleman, welcome to the New Quackmore Institute.” She cut the yellow caution tape away from the door..which proceeded to break and fall inward the moment the tape was gone. “Ta-daaah.” She said with the least amount of enthusiasm that anyone has ever put into anything ever.

Curious if the inside looked any better than the outside, the trio made their way to the open doorway and peeked inside. It was too dark to see inside, but something else stopped them at the door before they could go any further.

That something was a little red bird dressed in a white handy-man’s outfit that let out a scream right in their faces. “AAAAAAAH!”

The three regular-sized birds quickly jumped back from the startling sight and sound. “!!!!!”

They all reacted instantly and defensively: José raised his arm and a knife dropped from his sleeve into his hand. Panchito drew one of his guns and aimed it at the little bird. Donald surprised both of them, however, when he stood in front of the other two protectively and raised his fists in preparation for a brawl. The two birds behind him stared at him in shock, looked at each other briefly, then looked back at him with the same look of shock and confusion still on their faces.

Donald couldn’t see them, though, as he was too focused on the bird in front of him. “RRRAAAAH!” He let out an angry shout that startled the small bird. “Back off!!!” He warned it with a hard glare. He was DONE. He was already in a bad mood and he would GLADLY take it out on whatever got in his way first.

“AAAAAAAAH!!!” The bird screamed and disappeared back into the house, looking frightened by the angry duck.

Donald looked back to the lawyer once the little bird was back in the darkness of the cabana. “What the heck was that thing?”

The lawyer had taken a few steps back, at first to distance herself from the more dangerous looking rooster and parrot, but then later to get away from the angry duck that seemed far more intimidating somehow. “That..That is Ari- the caretaker of the cabana. It is in your great-grandfather’s will that he cannot be fired and must receive proper payment from the cabana’s residents.”

“Um momento.” José said while slipping his knife back up into his sleeve and looking at the lawyer as well. “You are saying that we must PAY this man??”

“Seriously?” Donald asked with a scowl.

“For as long as you live in the cabana, yes.” The lawyer answered, standing up straighter once Panchito holstered his weapon as well. “Now then, having seen to the final wishes of my retainer,” She began to walk backwards slowly. “I’m afraid I must be going!” She took off running once she was a foot or two away, clearly relieved to get away from the trio of dangerous birds and their crummy cabana.

With nothing else to do outside, the three looked at each other and shared a shrug before venturing into the darkness of the cabana for real this time. It was, unfortunately, just as dark and dingy as they’d suspected, only with the addition of being overly-cluttered on top of it all.

“What a dump..” Donald repeated his earlier observation about the run-down shack of a building as he leaned against an old table, being momentarily startled by the duck skull on it. “!!”

“It could certainly use a thorough cleaning..” José said to himself while wiping a thick layer of dust off of an old suit of armor, only to side-step the axe held in its hand when it suddenly fell downward. “!!!”

“I gotta admit,” Panchito said while examining a pile of various objects. “When I saw the neighborhood from the plane, I kinda hoped we’d be staying in that big mansion across the street..”

“Ha, those were my thoughts as well.” José sighed, taking a flask out of his jacket and unscrewing the top so he could take a big gulp of whatever was inside of it. He held the flask up with a raised eyebrow in Donald’s direction to silently ask if he wanted a drink too.

Donald shook his head in response and looked out the window at the lavish mansion that seemed to overlook the whole institute like a castle. “I actually went in there first- the guy living there told me I got the wrong address after I made a mess and ate some of his food, then he had his bodyguards throw me out. Literally.” He rolled his shoulder, a stiff joint popping to help demonstrate what happened.

José cast a glance out towards the mansion with a scowl, slipping the flask back into his jacket. “Oh, did he? That was quite rude of him. I will have a conversation with him about proper neighbor etiquette later…”

“Uh, you don’t have to do that.” Donald said and looked back at the parrot with a confused/concerned look. He didn’t know what a “conversation on etiquette” would entail, but he knew the police would probably get involved…

Before José could say anything else on the matter, Panchito found something of interest in the pile of junk he’d been examining. “Huh?” He pulled out a golden goblet encrusted with large jewels and an ancient looking vase. “Hey, guys, do you think this stuff’s real?” He asked before tossing it to José.

José caught the artifacts easily and looked them over carefully. “Hm..they certainly look genuine.” He blinked, looking as if a lightbulb had gone off in his head. “Meu amigos, I believe we may have stumbled upon something special here.” He smirked as he held the goblet up towards the doorway so that it sparkled in the light before passing it off to Donald.

Donald caught it, admiring the way the golden cup gleamed in the light. “Oooooh..” A smirk grew on his face to match José’s. “Are you boys thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“I think so.” Panchito grinned and held up more valuable looking stuff from the pile.

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

A couple hours later, the trio of reluctant cabana residents were outside of the small building with a majority of the artifacts from inside piled on the lawn with signs hung up everywhere.

“YARD SALE!” They all called to the rich-looking people passing by them on the sidewalk. Unfortunately, pretty much everyone was ignoring them.

“Hmph, bunch of stuck-up, no-good jerks..” Donald grumbled after a woman in a large fur coat walking her perfectly groomed poodle walked past them.

“Do not let them bother you, my friend.” José said comfortingly, placing a reassuring hand on Donald’s shoulder that certainly felt better than the warning grip from earlier. “They simply do not recognize value when they see it.” He leaned close to Donald to whisper conspiratorially with a smirk. “Besides, they won’t get any of the good stuff, anyway.”

Donald smirked back at him with a wink. “Don’t worry, I remember.”

They went back to their attempts at bringing in customers for a while, only stopping when a taxi cab drove up the street through the fliers on the road. The car kicked up a cloud of smog and the sound of a door opening and closing was heard before the car drove away again.

When the car’s exhaust cleared, there were three young female ducks dressed in matching sweaters and bows in purple, yellow, and orange waiting on the sidewalk.

“We’re here, Donald.” They said in unison while walking up to him.

“Well, it’s about time!” Donald said as he walked to meet them half-way.

“But, Donald,” The purple one began with a frown. “You JUST called us!”

“And we had to come ALL the way here from Aunt Daisy’s.” The orange one added while folding her arms.

“Excuses, excuses!” He complained as he guided them towards the piles of junk on the lawn. “Now, come on, we’ve gotta move this trash and make some cash!” He leaned in to whisper to them. “Pick out anything that looks like real gold or silver or has jewels in it- José’s got connections and people we can sell the good stuff to for way more! Help us out and we’ll all split the profits.” He then assigned each of them jobs, unintentionally getting their names wrong in the process and ignoring their attempts to correct him. Once they all begrudgingly started on their tasks, Donald turned to them while nervously pulling on the collar of his sailor suit. “By the way, how IS your aunt Daisy…?”

They all turned to him, speaking in unison again. “She says you’re a dirty, rotten, no-good liar.” They turned back and continued their work, either ignoring or not noticing the hurt look on his face.

Donald heaved a sigh, his earlier smile falling into a frown. “Fair enough…” He went back to trying to get customer’s attention, but he was clearly less enthusiastic about it than before.

While the girls may not have noticed his shift in mood (or were likely just ignoring it at this point), José and Panchito certainly took notice after unintentionally eaves-dropping on the earlier conversation. After sharing a concerned look, the pair walked over to Donald to check on him.

“Forgive me for asking,” José began, idly handing out fliers to anyone that happened to walk past them. “But, who is Daisy?”

“She’s my girlfriend..” Donald replied, his frown growing a bit more. “Well..I guess she’s my EX-girlfriend, now…”

“When did you two break up?” Panchito asked while balling up some fliers and tossing them at people’s heads, ignoring the glares they sent his way.

“This afternoon..” Donald let out another heavy sigh, looking down at the fliers in his hands. “She dumped me after I lost my job and my house burned down..all because I didn’t pick her up from the bus station…”

“Mhm, I see- Espere o que aconteceu?!” José had been nodding to show he was listening, but he froze up and turned his full attention to Donald at that last part. “She left you simply because you failed to pick her up from a bus station?”

“AFTER your house burned down??” Panchito had turned his full attention on Donald as well, shocked by this news.

“Yeah..” Donald kind of gave up on handing out the fliers and just held some up when a car drove past, letting the breeze carry them away. “She came to see me for my birthday, but my boss called me into work even though I was supposed to have the day off. I ran out without turning off the stove and then he fired me just because I gave some kid a bad haircut. By the time I got back home, my house had already burned down and she called to tell me we were through..” He wiped a hand over his face, looking so small and sad compared to the angry and protective duck that had stood in front of Panchito and José earlier. “She wouldn’t even let me explain..she just called me selfish and told me to get my life together…” He gestured towards the girls that were busy cleaning up and sorting the artifacts a few feet away. “Guess she’s still not in the mood to hear me out, either..she’s probably right about me, anyway…”

“¡¿En serio?!” Panchito asked, dropping his fliers so that he could grab Donald’s shoulders, surprising the duck with both the sudden increase in his voice’s volume and the physical contact.

“Wha..?” Donald stared at the excitable rooster in confusion.

“What I believe Panchito is trying to ask is,” José put one of his hands on top of Panchito’s on Donald’s shoulder, the light touch encouraging Panchito to loosen his grip. “Why are you blaming yourself for this?”

“What do you mean?” Donald asked, looking between the two concerned faces in front of him.

“We are saying that YOU did nothing wrong.” José stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I didn’t?” Donald was still confused, but he no longer looked like the same down-trodden and depressed duck he was a moment ago.

“No way!” Panchito shook his head and gave Donald’s shoulders a firm, understanding grip that was gentler than when he first grabbed him. “Look, sometimes…sometimes things happen that aren’t our fault. You were supposed to have the day off, right?” He asked, continuing once Donald nodded to answer his question. “But your boss was a big jerk and called you in anyway, making you run out and forget about the stove AND made you late getting to the bus station, si?” Donald nodded again, Panchito giving him a kind smile. “See? None of that was YOUR fault, amigo. You did what you could, but people..” His smile fell a little bit and he sighed, glancing away for a minute. “People can be mean. It’s easier for them to make YOU be the bad guy then to hear you out.” He shook his head, regaining his earlier cheer and letting go with one hand so he could curl it into a confident fist in front of himself. “When people refuse to listen to you, then they are no longer worth talking to. So, when that happens, get back at them! Show them what kind of man you really are!” His smile shifted into a smirk. “If they still don’t listen to you after that, then whatever happens is their fault, not yours.”

“Panchito is right.” José said, sliding his arm around Donald’s shoulders like he had when they first met. “People will only see the world in black and white- if you try to explain yourself, most of the time, they do not listen.” With his free hand, he unbuttoned the top portion of his shirt enough that he could pull out a necklace with an odd symbol on it that Donald had never seen before. “For instance, if I told you that I regularly converse with a god who controls evil spirits, you would most likely call me crazy or evil, sim?”

Donald shrugged slightly after giving it some thought. “I saw some pretty weird stuff growing up..”

José chuckled at the casual response. “That is refreshing to hear.” He looked like he was about to tuck it back under his shirt, but a white hand over his gloved one stopped him, causing him to look at Donald with a raised eyebrow. “…?”

“You should leave it out.” Donald said with a small smile. “It looks good on you.” He smiled a bit more when he saw the surprised look on José’s face from the compliment. “If anyone says anything about it, I’ll take care of ‘em.”

José smiled back in return and left the pendant exposed over his shirt. “And we will take care of anyone who gives YOU trouble in return, my friend.”

“You bet we will!” Panchito agreed enthusiastically, putting one hand on José’s shoulder while keeping the other on Donald’s, effectively uniting the three of them in a connected triangle. “From now on, no one’s gonna mess with us!”

“Yeah!” Donald agreed just as enthusiastically as Panchito had, a full smile spreading over his beak. “If no one wants to listen to us, then what happens is THEIR fault!” He repeated back Panchito’s words from earlier, feeling much better already.

Maybe this was going to be an okay birthday after all.

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

Another hour or so passed with the trio of older birds handing out fliers and selling trinkets to the one or two people that actually stopped by and the younger trio sorting everything out into what they were selling now and was going to be sold (likely through the black market) later. Donald’s mood had definitely turned around thanks to José and Panchito’s encouragement and he was enjoying himself again, really getting into the spirit of things and hoping to get as much cash as possible.

Just as he’d finished getting a few bucks for some old tiki head they’d found, he heard a panting, winded voice trying to speak nearby. “A..yard..sale..?!” He looked over and saw the goose he’d bumped into earlier- a rather portly one in a purple suit coat and black tie with black hair and a thin mustache.

Donald tried not to cringe as the goose finally caught his breath and glared at him. Thankfully, José came to his rescue by coming around beside him and placing an arm around Donald’s shoulder again.

“A brilliant idea, sim?” He asked with a grin and a wink. “The people around here have lots of cash.” He even rubbed the fingers of his free hand together in the classic pantomiming gesture for money.

“Yeah, and we’ve got lots of yard!” Panchito piped up helpfully, coming up around Donald’s other side to place a hand on his back.

The goose only seemed to become more irritated by their jovial attitude and jabbed Donald in the chest with an accusatory finger, earning him a glare from José and Panchito as they moved in closer to the duck between them. “You are in violation of New Quackmore etiquette! If you do not stop this instant, you will be EJECTED from the institute!!” He yelled between gasps for breath.

Donald absentmindedly brushed a hand over the sore spot on his chest that the goose had poked rather harshly. “Aw, come on- is this about the sandwich?”

Mentioning the sandwich seemed to elicit two reactions around him: More anger from the goose in front of him at the reminder of their earlier encounter, and a more protective sort of anger from the birds beside him when they figured out who exactly this guy was and how he’d treated their new friend before.

“What? Sandwich?” The goose asked before jabbing his finger at Donald again. “No! It is about decades worth of tradition that you are stamping upon with your..little..” He trailed off, looking as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Actually..” He shook his head, taking a breath to ease his anger before speaking again. “Donald, was it? I believe we got off on the wrong webbed-foot.” His demeanor changed and he offered Donald a smile that reminded him of the times he’d dealt with used car salesmen in the past. “How about I buy all of this old junk from you? Why, I’ll even take this run-down cabana off of your hands.” He pulled out his checkbook to show he was serious. “How does a million dollars sound?”

Donald and Panchito stared at the man in shock. “One m-m-million?!!”

José, on the other hand, was eyeing the goose a bit more skeptically. “Why would you pay a million dollars for some dusty old relics and a run-down shack?” He put one hand on his hip while looking the taller bird over suspiciously. “I doubt this collection is worth anywhere near that much. What is it you are REALLY after?”

The goose scowled slightly at the parrot’s perceptiveness and sighed. “Fine, you got me.” He slipped the checkbook back into his pocket. “For generations, my family has searched for a special book and the old bird that owned this cabana refused to let us check to see if he had it. If you find it, I’ll gladly buy it and everything else here from you. What do you say?”

“What does it look like?” Donald asked, wondering what kind of book could be special enough for someone to spend a million dollars on it.

“It is leather bound with gold in-lay,” The goose began his description, growing more enthused with his description as he went on. “Encrusted with jewels, looking as if it were forged from stardust and published by the very GODS THEMSELVES!” He flushed slightly in embarrassment when he realized the three smaller birds were staring at him. “Or, you know, something like that?”

“Weelll..we’ll go have a look.” Donald answered after giving it some thought. “Wait here.” He walked back towards the cabana to go search for the book.

Once Donald’s back was turned, José and Panchito fixed the goose with matching deadly glares that made him sweat a little from the bloodlust in their eyes.

“We will be having a conversation with you when we return.” José said in a stern tone of voice.

“Yeah, so don’t move a muscle.” Panchito warned him, one hand patting the gun on his hip in indication. “Or else.”

They turned and quickly caught up with Donald, leaving the goose frozen in place and internally panicking over what he’d just gotten himself into.

As the three walked back into the cabana, Donald began looking around while Panchito and José picked up the door that, once again, fell over. They put it back in place so they could talk privately without anyone outside overhearing them.

“So,” Donald began while looking through the various piles of junk that had yet to be sorted. “What do you guys wanna do if we find the book?”

Panchito and José joined in on the search, Panchito shrugging slightly. “Honestly, I don’t really care about the money- I’ll just go along with whatever you guys wanna do.”

“Hmm..” José gave it a bit more thought, peeking out through the blinds to see that the goose had not moved from the spot they’d left him in. “Donald..” He didn’t look at the duck in question as he spoke. “You were in that mansion before, sim?”

“Huh? Yeah, I was.” Donald responded while taking a few books off of a bookcase to check them. “Why?”

José finally closed the blinds and turned to face him, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall by the window. “Did it look nice? Well-furnished? Did it have a lot of valuable objects and exhibits inside?”

Donald nodded, tossing aside books as he searched the bookcase. “Oh yeah- big time. There were suits of armor and paintings and chandeliers that look like they had diamonds on ‘em!”

“I see.” A sly smirk began to spread over the parrot’s face as he processed this information and began to form a plan. “My friends, where would you rather live?” He asked while holding out both of his hands, raising one in the air first as if presenting an option. “In this dusty, tiny, cramped cabana, stuck paying a caretaker that screams every time he sees us?” To prove his point, he glanced towards a rustling sound where he spotted the little red bird peering out at them from behind a pile of junk, but the bird screamed and disappeared behind the pile when he saw he was being watched. “Or,” José held up his other hand, raising it a bit higher to present it in a more favorable manner. “Would you rather live in a luxurious mansion filled with valuable trinkets that we can sell at our convenience?”

“Ohhh, are we voting?” Panchito asked from between a few shelves, too busy searching to poke his head out and look at the others. “Because I vote for the second one!”

“Same here.” Donald agreed, clearing the shelf he’d been looking through and starting on the next one. “You got an idea or something?”

José peeked through the blinds again and spotted the lawyer that had given them the estate earlier now seated on a bench nearby. “Sim. Of course, it will only work if we can find that book.”

The universe, once again acting with a comedic sense of timing, gave them an answer in the form of a crash from the general vicinity of Panchito’s area followed by an “Ay caramba!” After a moment, Panchito stuck his head out from between the shelves with a big grin on his face. “Hey guuuys, you’ll never guess what I found!”

“The book?” José and Donald asked while looking at the rooster expectantly.

Panchito shrugged. “Well, it is A book that could be THE book. It’s gold with jewels and stuff, but I don’t really know what something that’s ‘forged from stardust and published by the gods themselves’ is supposed to look like.”

“Fair enough.” Donald said with a roll of his eyes and a fondly exasperated smile while he and José walked over to see it for themselves. Honestly, he didn’t know what something like that was supposed to look like, either.

When they arrived, they found a glass display case that had previously been hidden under layers of clutter and dust. In the case was a golden book encrusted with jewels, and, once they got it out of the case, it felt heavy enough to be the real deal.

“It certainly looks valuable enough.” José said after taking a moment to assess the book’s authenticity. “Though I am still not sure if such a thing is really worth a million dollars.”

“So, what are we gonna do with it?” Donald asked, looking at José since he seemed to be the one with a plan in this situation.

“We are going to sell it to that nice gentleman outside.” He began with a deceptively kind smile, holding up a hand when Donald looked like he was about to say something. “However, checks can be bounced, so we will be selling it, and the cabana, to him for something more, shall we say, tangible?”

He walked to one of the windows and pulled down the blinds just enough for the other two to have a clear view of the mansion across the street, his smile slipping into a devious smirk. As Donald and Panchito grasped the true meaning of his words, they began to smirk as well.

This was going to be fun.

Next Chapter->

Translation Notes:

Los Caballeros Malvados - The Evil Caballeros (I know, original XP)

Yo soy - I am

Espere o que aconteceu?! - Wait, what happened?!

“¡¿En serio?!” - "Seriously?!"

End Notes: *collapses on the floor* Whew! So, I got super excited when I received permission from the artists to write something based off of their awesome designs, so I kind of spent my day off writing the first chapter ^////^”

The plan for this series is that I’m gonna rewatch the show one episode at a time and do my own re-writes for them as I go. Things will change more and more as the series goes on, but I wanted to start with the first episode being VERY similar, which is why I kept a good portion of the original dialogue.

Also, side rant- I felt the need to add that conversation about what happened to Donald not actually being his fault because, honestly, that’s how I feel no matter how many times I watch the first episode. Yeah, he did let his temper get the better of him a little bit where the kid was concerned, but literally everything else was just bad luck for the poor guy! The boss was a jerk for calling him in to work when he was supposed to have the day off, the kid was a brat that refused to hold still, the firemen laughed at Donald’s misfortune and destroyed everything that the fire didn’t already take from him, and Daisy wouldn’t even LISTEN to the poor guy. (I also have a bit of a problem with Daisy’s behavior in this show, as you’ll probably tell as the episodes progress >_> I normally don’t mind Daisy, but she just rubs me the wrong way throughout this series and the first episode started it for me >.<)

I know it’s supposed to be played off and presented in a way that’s meant to show how Donald shouldn’t let his anger control him later on when he gets therapy near the end, but that felt a little bit frustrating to me to blame Donald for everything that happened that day. I really wanted to see someone like the other caballeros or Xandra tell him that it WASN’T his fault that he lost everything and that sometimes bad things can happen to good people for no good reason and offer him some much-needed comfort. Sadly, I never got that in the show, so I’m inserting it in an Evil!AU fic XP

#the three gay caballeros #three gay caballeros #the three caballeros #legend of the three caballeros #donald duck #jose carioca #panchito pistoles #donald/panchito/jose #evil!au #Los Caballeros Malvados

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neon-junkie · 3 years

Text

The Wolf

Summary: You can't help that you're unaware of the thick scent you're letting off. But Flaco is aware. Flaco is well aware and he's going to do something about it.

Pairing: Flaco Hernández x f!Reader

Word Count: 3817

Rating: NSFW

Tags: Slight A/B/O/ dynamics, Marking, Manhandling, Creampies, Scenting, Pred/Prey, Height differences, Size kink, Multiple orgasms, Knotting, Dirty talk, Praise kink, Mating.

Notes: Ugh, another Flaco fic?? YES. I've always had a pred/prey vibe from big Flaco, but that vibe went off the rails during that cutscene where Flaco calls himself 'the wolf,' so I just HAD to write this ;:)

It came to you as a surprise when Flaco told you that he'd be joining you for today's mission. "I'm bored and staying in this cabin is driving me crazy," he explained whilst shoving his knife into its holster and shooing you out the cabin, following closely behind. You had no idea that he even owned a horse, who happened to be hitched in the forest behind his cabin this whole time; he's just as stocky as Flaco with thick fur keeping his hooves warm. Flaco seemed to be in a rush today, despite knowing that the mountain men you were going after wouldn't be leaving any time soon. "Have you found those tracks? Come on, let's go. I've found some here but we can't split up. C'mon, hurry up," he'd barked over and over, making your brows furrow. For once, Flaco was being annoying, he seemed on edge, like something was getting under his skin and he just couldn't shake it off. The first victims had been found and you and Flaco took cover behind a boulder on the other side of the river. Of course, you were intrigued to see how legendary his skills were. He assumed that you'd be taking the first shot, but once he saw the way you were crouched patiently beside him, looking up at him with excitement in your eyes, he felt his ego filling up and just had to impress you.

"Oh, you want to see what old Flaco can do with this thing, huh?" Flaco said as he lined up his rifle. "Watch and learn, chiquita." He took his time to shoot, clearly irritated at something; his finger continued to brush over the trigger but struggled to pull it, his eyes often locking on to yours as embarrassment began to cross his face. He missed. And he continued to miss almost all of his shots, growing more irritated by the second. By the time you found the last victims, Flaco had stormed ahead up the mountain with his sawn-off shotgun, blowing open the chests of those men. That's what they deserve for stealing off him. The ride back was almost silent. You had opened your mouth to ask if he was okay, only managing to say "are" when Flaco had cut you off and quietly mumbled "I'm fine," dipping his head down so the brim of his sombrero covered most of his face. "I wasn't expecting you to be the one to save my ass," Flaco told you as you both entered his cabin, stomping off the snow on your boots then stretching your hands out over the fire. You noticed that Flaco didn't go over to his usual place, instead, he leaned back against the pole in the middle of the room. His arms were crossed, eyes darting around the room before flicking them over to meet yours. "What's wrong?" you asked him. You thought he'd go on a tangent about whatever was winding him up, he's just an old man who loves to moan about everything and you enjoy it, though you have to hold back your laughter as he gets upset over the littlest things. "You," Flaco had replied, making your eyes go wide as you straightened up your back. You opened your mouth to begin apologizing for whatever you must have done wrong, but Flaco waved his hand before returning it to his crossed arms. "It's not your fault, you can't help it. Hell, you're probably not even aware of it," Flaco grumbled. Flaco stood up from his leaning position, taking a step over to you as he relaxed his hands by his sides. You turned slightly, moving a step away from the fire, your toes almost stepping on Flacos as you stand in front of him. That's where you are now, awkwardly standing there, looking up at a man twice the size of you. He's not exactly scowling, his brows are always slightly furrowed and he always has that pissed off expression, but you notice that there's definitely concentration in his face as he studies you. "You don't know what's wrong, do you?" Flaco questions. You shake your head innocently, worried that this is it; Flaco's finally fed up with you and is planning how to finish you off. "Hmm. As I said, you're probably not even aware," Flaco grumbles, walking past you and over to the door. He pushes his foot against it, jamming it fully shut and locking it. Has there always been a lock? You've never noticed that before? Your stomach begins to turn as Flaco turns back to you. Why did he lock the door? And why are you taking a few small steps back the more he comes towards you? He looks menacing, this giant of a man who's taking his time to pace over to you. Your ass bumps against something and you turn to see that you're now leaning back against his table with nowhere else to go. As you turn back, your gaze meets Flaco's who's almost got his chest pressed against yours. "I'm not going to hurt you," he tells you in a surprisingly soft voice, well aware of your panicked expression. "Chiquita, calm down. Flaco just wants to help," he tells you, calming your nerves. "What is it?" you ask him, still running through every recent interaction to pick out anything that might have upset him, but you find nothing. Flaco goes to dip his head down to speak more directly to you but he quickly straightens his back up, nostrils flaring as he looks around the room. He's got that irritated expression again, something's clearly still crawling under his skin. Flaco turns back to you and grumbles "you stink." Was that it? Did you smell? Was he so worked up because you hadn't had a bath today? You were a clean person, bathing regularly for somebody who's almost always on the road, but it clearly wasn't good enough for Flaco. He notices the way your head is tilting to the side and corrects himself. "I mean, you don't stink... you're clean, but..." Flaco attempts to explain, his hands moving as he talks. "That smell you're letting off, it's... distracting. I haven't smelt anything like that in such a long time, mostly because I never get any visitors up here, especially not ones who are clearly in heat," Flaco tells you, resting one hand gently on your hip as he speaks down to you. In heat? Oh shit. Your supplements had worn off without you somehow noticing, but Flaco had noticed. Flaco had definitely noticed. And it had been distracting him this whole time. That explains why he seemed so eager to get out of this little cabin with you, you were probably stinking up the room when you innocently came asking for more work. And he couldn't focus on any of his shots as you were stood beside him the whole time, batting your lashes at him as if nothing was wrong. Flaco notices how you're piecing everything together, finally understanding that your smell has been the thing under his skin this whole time. "As I said, you were probably not aware. Those supplements can really mess up your own sense of smell, huh?" Flaco says with a gentle laugh. You have no idea how he's aware that you were taking supplements, but it's not hard to work out if you're so unaware of your own scent. "Yeah, I didn't know. Sorry," you tell him. You were well aware of his hand on your hip, but you'd only just realized how big it felt on you, almost as if he could wrap both of his hands around you. It's probably your heat warping your sense of reality, but you can't admit that it's not a nice feeling. A very nice feeling, that feeling growing even more as you look back up at Flaco and meet his warm amber eyes. "You're not going to calm down, are you?" Flaco asks as he twitches his nose. He's clearly trying to hold himself together, suppressing the urge to scoop you up and fix that problem between your legs himself. You're surprised he has so much self-control as other men that you've met in the past would have pounced on you the second you walked in all those hours ago. "I-" you go to speak, but a feeling between your legs cuts you off. Flaco's pushed his thigh between your legs, settling it gently against your crotch, and you find your hips slowly rutting against it. Your arousal is refusing to go down, your scent stinking up the room and you're finally aware of how badly you smell. Flaco's at his limit, tightening his grip on your hip as his other hand comes up to remove his hat, chucking it over to the chair he always sits on. Surprisingly warm lips are pressed against your neck, his moustache brushing against your skin in such a way that your senses begin to heighten. Your body feels so sensitive, picking up on every little thing Flaco does as you continue to rut against his thigh. Flaco bites down on your neck, hard enough to leave a mark, and the whimper you let out makes his head spin and his cock throb in his pants. "I'm going to take you," Flaco grumbles against you as he continues to kiss along your neck. "I haven't felt like this in so long. You think you can just waltz in here, stinking up the place, and expect old Flaco not to fill you up, eh?" Another hand on your hip cuts off whatever you were about to reply, and Flaco begins rolling your hips for you, grinding your crotch down hard on his thigh. The seam of your pants is rutting against your clit aggressively, building your orgasm the more he ruts you. Another mark is left on your neck, followed by a trail more; he's marking you, letting everybody know that you're his, that you belong to the Terror of the Grizzlies. And there isn't a single soul out there who would risk trying to snatch you away from such a man. Flacos head lifts up so he can finally kiss you, hungrily licking and nipping at your lips, turning them redder the more he kisses you. You break the kiss with a whimper, your head leaning forward to mewl in the curve of his neck as you grip onto his thick fur coat. "Good girl," Flaco praises you in such a perfectly husk voice that it pushes you over the edge, soaking your pants and dripping onto Flacos as you cum on his thigh. Flaco moves one of his hands off your hip so he can begin to palm at his own erection, and you catch the sight in the corner of your eye. He's just as thick as you thought, his cock pressed deliciously against the tight fabric of his pants. "You like what you see?" Flaco asks with a chuckle, noticing the way you're hungrily staring. at him. "Come on," Flaco says as he moves his thigh from you, pulling you over to the bed. "Get undressed," Flaco orders you, turning his attention to the fire. He chucks another log on it, trying to keep his cabin warm, despite it already being toasty in here. Flaco turns to see you pulling your undergarments off, letting them slip down your legs and fall to the floor. He licks his lips at the sight, yourself in the nude waiting patiently for his next command. Flaco kisses you again as he lays you down, your head settling on the pillow. His hands trail gently over your body, admiring every bump and curve, brushing over your nipples, and kneading at your thighs. He pulls off his gloves, chucking them to the floor, then runs his middle and trigger finger over your folds, chuckling as he admires how soaked you are. The sensation of your heat becomes painfully obvious the second Flaco touches you down there, your thighs instantly twitching as he continues to run his fingertips across your folds. You only have to sigh his name once for him to realize how desperate you are, sinking his fingers into you, two of them at the same time as he knows you can take it. They curl deliciously, almost instantly finding your g-spot. He massages the pads of his fingers over that spot, enjoying the way you squirm underneath him, your scent almost clouding his vision as his own cock throbs in his pants. "Mierda," Flaco sighs as you let out a whimper that makes his head spin. "I need to be inside of you," he announces as he slips his fingers from you, leaving you empty for a few short moments. You shuffle up onto your elbows, watching Flaco unbutton his pants and pull his throbbing length out. He's just as gorgeous as you imagined, his length agonizingly thick with a soft red tip, precum already trailing down your shaft. He's in too much of a rush to remove any more of his clothes, but the image of him fully clothed whilst you're in the nude is playing on that prey instinct inside of you. Flaco places one of his large paws on your hips, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he begins to push his thick member into you. He's almost painful, making you gasp and moan as he slowly slides in, his eyes fixated on watching his length disappear inside of you. Once he's fully sheathed inside of you, he holds himself there for a few moments, letting out heavy pants as praise begins to flow from his lips. "Good girl. Taking me all the way in on your first go. That's my girl, isn't it?" Flaco mutters, his chest rising and falling heavily as he tries to hold back from thrusting into you, knowing that you need a few seconds to get used to his size. Flaco knows you're ready when you begin to whimper beneath him. He pulls his cock almost all the way out and slams down into you, pushing the air from your lungs, making your eyes scrunch shut as you let out a sound that makes Flacos instincts spin. He doesn't bother with slow and tender thrusts; he needs you, and he needs you now. His length begins to pump into you, continuing to push those sounds from you. Flaco has needed you the second you stumbled into his cabin, only he's been able to suppress those feelings, up until your scent accidentally flared up earlier. Your hands trail over his body, gripping onto his biceps, clinging onto his bandoliers, settling around his neck. You're a whimpering mess beneath him and Flaco both loves and hates the sight. "Stop squirming," he mutters as he continues thrusting into you. "Be good for me and take it, alright?" he orders. Flaco lets out a chuckle as he feels your walls clench around him from the way he's speaking to you. The room is already too hot for you even though you're in the nude, but you've noticed the way Flaco's beginning to sweat. He doesn't stop his thrusting as he straightens up his back and begins to swing his bandoliers over his shoulders, chucking them to the floor, eventually followed by his coat. He almost ripped his coat off, quickly becoming frustrated by all the fastenings, but he managed to eventually undo it. Flaco is left in his white undershirt and green bandana, his body radiating more heat than you've ever felt. He dips back down, towering his body over you, his head leaning down to continue leaving marks along your neck. Flaco had always told himself that he'd never mark anybody again, especially not in his 'old' age, but it's hard not to make you his own when you're mewling underneath him. "Mierda," Flaco grumbles again, leaving his head in the curve of your neck. His cock feels heavy, his balls slapping against you with every thrust; you know he's close. "I need to cum inside of you, alright? But I won't be giving you any little ones, I'll make sure of it," Flaco tells you as he dips his head up to meet yours, planting a quick kiss to your lips as he speaks. You've heard that some men are able to do this though you always doubted it, but you trust Flaco with your life, so you trust his word. Once you've managed to nod in agreement, Flaco grins and picks up the pace, making you whimper again as you had no idea he could go that fast. He's complained about his age before, saying his bones ache and his joints feel creeky, but you had no idea that when fueled by lust, Flaco could ignore his age and fuck like this. It boosts your ego, knowing you're the one who's turned him into this beast of a man. Flaco lets out a choked moan as he cums, filling you to the brim, making your walls tighten around him just from the sensation. He rests his head on your chest, panting and moaning, letting out a string of phrases in his mother tongue, though you're unsure of what he's saying. He whimpers against you for a good few moments, collecting himself and eventually lifting his head off your chest so his eyes can meet yours. Flaco dips his head down to kiss you, his breaths are still heavy but not enough to distract the kiss. As he breaks away, he sits upright and peels his shirt off after unfastening his bandana, throwing them to the floor. He finally reveals his stocky build to you, well-toned muscles with a thick coat of chest hair that trails down to his stomach and settles around the base of his cock. He leans down to kiss you again, moving his hands from your hips to wrap your legs around your waist. You know this isn't over. "I'm not done with you yet," Flaco confirms, large paws wrapping around your waist as Flaco pulls you up with him, carrying you over to the cabin wall. You can feel his load dripping from you as his cock slams into you again, making you let out a whimper. "Don't worry, chiquita. There's plenty more where that came from," Flaco says with a laugh, moving his mouth down to leave another mark on your neck. As Flaco pulls off your neck he gazes at the sight, enjoying the thick spread of purple marks across both sides of your neck. Anybody who goes near you will know damn well who you belong to; the other strangers you work for, the general store clerks, the stableboys, even the strangers on the streets. And that's exactly how Flaco likes it. You're his and his only. Flaco begins to thrust into you again, working your sensitive pussy so he can begin building another climax. His thrusts are a little slower this time, more focused on admiring you as his eyes meet yours. "You're my chiquita buena, aren't you?" Flaco asks, his grip tight on your ass as he holds you firmly against the wooden walls. "I am," you nod in agreement, enjoying the way Flacos expression turns into a cocky smile. "Go on, tell me," Flaco orders you. "I'm yours. I'm Flaco's girl," you repeat, making Flaco grin even more. "If you're my girl then who does this pussy belong to, eh?" Flaco questions. "You," you tell him. "But who am I chiquita?" Flaco asks. You remember a term that Flaco's called himself before, something that you thought was a joke, but it seems he meant it. "You're the wolf," you reply. "Very good, I'm the wolf," Flaco repeats with a chuckle. "And what do all those marks on your neck mean?" "That I'm yours, that I belong to the wolf," you confirm. "So good. So good for Flaco, aren't you? So good for the wolf," Flaco hums as he begins picking up the pace, pushing the air from your lungs as he begins pounding you again. The noises that both of you are letting out are loud enough to scare away any nearby bears; hopefully, Flaco won't have to deal with them for a while. You're a sticky mess between your legs, Flaco's fucking his former load from you, oozing from your pussy and dripping down onto his balls. Neither of you seems to mind, especially since Flaco had promised that he'd replace that load with a fresh one. For a man that always seems so grumpy, he's pulling some gorgeous faces; cheeks a vibrant red, mouth constantly parted, hair trailing over his eyes and slowly falling forward from his slicked-back style. It feeds your ego knowing that you have the pleasure of seeing him like this - you and only you. Flaco dips his head down to give you another kiss, his moustache prickling your lip in a way that feels oh-so-sensitive. "Flaco," you sigh as you break the kiss, his eyes meeting yours. "I know, I know. My chiquita is close, isn't she?" Flaco asks. All you can do is nod in agreement as you dip your hand between your legs to begin rubbing your clit, making your thigh muscles twitch, wrapped around Flacos stocky waist. Flaco hums at the sight, praising you, encouraging you. "You'll cum for Flaco, won't you?" he asks, and pleasantly hums again when you confirm that you will. "Ladies first," Flaco tells you, placing a kiss underneath your jawline, right on that sensitive spot that makes your head spin. Within a few more thrusts you're clenching around Flacos length, exhaling heavily as you enjoy another orgasm, your walls tightening almost painfully around Flacos thick length. Flaco lets out a grunt as he pushes his length all the way in and fills you up again, scrunching his eyes shut and burying his head in the curve of your neck, his dark hair flopping over his eyes. You feel the way Flacos cock swells up, your walls tightening a little too tightly, and the both of you know you're going to be stuck like this for a while. Neither of you mind and Flaco lifts his head up to brush his hair from his eyes and give you a tender kiss. He carries you back over to the bed, laying you down and managing to kick off his pants and boots. Thick furs are wrapped around you as you're pulled onto Flacos chest, your cheek resting against his pecs as his arms cradle you tenderly. Not many words are exchanged apart from the occasional "are you comfortable?" from Flaco, and you quickly find yourself lulling off to sleep, Flaco following shortly after as his body heat and the roaring fire keeps you warm throughout the cold night.

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