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#well besides being ducking wild
alarrylarrie · 1 year
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I’m just…
Spinning out, waiting for ya to pull me in
I can see you're lonely down there
Don't you know that I am right here?
She said, "Give me a day or two"
Wishing I could be there for ya
Listennnnn. You don’t want me to do this lol. It’s a CONSTANT theme. I could talk about this for DAYS.
All of Holding on to Heartache? “I called you twice but then regretted it, and changed my number…??!!”
This is a conversation they’ve been having since 1D days, but more pointedly now that they’re solo. HS1? “Even my phone misses your call, by the way.” Fine Line- “it’s hard for me to come home and be so lonely.” Walls- “I cut you off because I didn’t know no better” and basically ALL of Defenceless lol. Don’t even get me started on Faith In The Future.
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happyhauntt · 1 month
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fight or flight — poe dameron.
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writing masterlist | askbox
─── summary: you and poe have never seen eye-to-eye. most days, you wonder if you ever will.
─── pairing: poe dameron x solo!reader.
─── warnings: reader is gender neutral, reader is han & leia's child, no use of y/n. lots of snarky banter. this was supposed to be flirty fluff but it turned into an angstfest so, yeah, sorry for that. finn eavesdrops and chewie is sassy bastard.
─── word count: 1.6k.
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     “YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.”
     Poe ducks his head and quickly manages to conceal the wince creeping onto his features just in time, but crouched in the cockpit beside him, Rey still feels his shoulders go stiff. She presses a hand to her mouth in a weak attempt to stifle her laugh, but she’s not quite successful as Poe shoots her a glare.
     She doesn’t blame him, really. You are… Well, sort of scary when you’re angry.
     There’s more than just a spark of your mother’s fire in you, that’s for sure.
     Glancing over her shoulder, she finds you standing in the doorway, regarding the pair of them with a ruthless glare so sharp it might leave a mark.
     Rey is suddenly pretty sure that Poe didn’t talk to you like he said he would.
     “I go for a nap because I haven’t slept properly in two days after you—” The finger you jab in Poe’s direction might as well be a knife, the way he flinches, “— get us stranded in First Order territory after leading us on a wild goose chase, knock out the comms and the navigation with your, frankly batshit, behaviour which I have spent hours trying to fix, and then I left you with one simple instruction.”
     Which… Alright, not all of that is strictly fair, Rey thinks, because at least half of the chaos of the past few days can be attributed to sheer bad luck, and another third can be blamed on decisions made under pressure whose outcomes boiled down to bad or worse.
     It’s not really Poe’s fault. Not anymore than the rest of them, at least.
     But Rey knows how you feel about this ship. The Falcon is your inheritance, the only real home you have left in the world. It’s all that is left of your father.
     You were protective of it even before he died, and since—
     Rey clears her throat. “I’m just gonna… go check on Finn.”
     Poe’s expression reeks of betrayal as Rey scoots past you to go and find Finn, who’s loitering in the main hold with Chewbacca, but she’s not about to hang around and get caught in the crossfire between the two of you.
     She doesn’t have a death wish.
     Finn looks just suspicious enough, when she locates him, that she doesn’t even bother scolding him for eavesdropping. She’s about to do the same, after all.
     “He told me he checked it was alright before we started reconfiguring the navicomputer.” Rey folds her arms across her chest, frowning in the direction of the cockpit. Your voice is still rattling down the corridor towards them.
     Finn clicks his tongue. “Evidently not.”
     In the cockpit, Poe pushes himself to stand, resting a hand on the back of the captain’s chair. Your voice is hard as duracrete as you take a step towards him, crowding the small space with so much of your frustration that it feels difficult to breathe.
     Poe wonders if the sensors are on the blink, and someone popped an airlock somewhere, because the air feels a little thin. You jab in the chest with your finger, and all he does is blink, suddenly lightheaded.
     “I gave you one instruction. I said, the nav systems are rebooting, I’m going grab some shuteye, don’t touch anything. And what do you do?”
     “The console was beeping!”
     “I don’t care if a damn mynock got in here and started eating it, I said don’t touch it.”
     “But it’s alright for Rey to touch it?” He’s being petty, he knows that, but an angry flush has started creeping up your neck, and he wants to know what you look like with your cheeks coloured that delightful shade of pink.
     “Rey didn’t break it!” A ragged breath tears from your throat, and you rake a hand roughly through your hair. “She knows what she’s doing. I trust her.”
     “And you don’t trust me, is that it?” Something like sadness swirls low in his gut as he waits for your response. It hurts him to ask, even though he’s wearing his bravado like a mask, even though he likes pushing all your buttons because when your eyes flash like that, it’s like standing in the eye of a hurricane or falling in zero gravity.
     You’re not friends, he knows that. Not since the day you met, and you pressed a blaster up against his neck in the cargo hold of your old ship and he’d grinned down at you as if getting his life threatened was his favourite pastime.
     He’d been trying to steal it. You’re still not sure what happened, exactly, except that there were Stormtroopers firing at your ship — which, honestly, was held together by little more than string and sheer stubbornness at that point — and your mother’s favourite flyboy watching you with a bizarre hope in his eyes, and you’d just… hated him, in that moment.
     Hated him for crashing into your life and dragging you, kicking and screaming, back to the life you’d fled. Hated your mother for her good heart and your father for running away. Hated the whole damn galaxy for not killing you when it had the chance.
     Poe had wanted you to take him to D’Qar, but you’d spent too long leaving things behind to go back now, so you’d dropped him at the nearest safe outpost and prayed you’d never see him again.
     Clearly, the universe had other plans.
     It’s been years since that first encounter, but neither of you have warmed to one another since then. There’s very little point, you think. He’s unbearable, always needling at you, picking at all of your defences as if he has a right to know you.
     It doesn’t matter. In the end, everyone leaves, one way or another.
     You just wish he’d hurry up and do it, already.
     You’re not friends, but you’re something more and something less, and the way your lower lip twitches at his question feels like a punch to the gut.
     “Why should I?” You blink at him, and a moment later you realise how close you’ve grown, almost chest-to-chest with this man who drives you mad. With a rough swallow, you force yourself to take a step back.
     He doesn’t move. Hardly dares to breathe, with his mouth curled into that little half-smirk he knows you hate, because it hurts that you don’t trust him, but it would hurt more if you knew it.
     “Why shouldn’t you?”
     A scoff. “Well, for starters, I don’t think you’ve ever had a plan that didn’t blow up in your face.”
     The familiar howl of Finn’s laughter rolls down the corridor, quickly cut off by a quiet thump and a low, pained groan.
     Poe blinks at you. “Excuse me?”
     “And you don’t take proper care of the Falcon!” The controls and all their exposed wires serve to prove your point.
     Turning on your heel, you march out into the corridor, abandoning him in the cockpit. He stares at your retreating form, unable to kick his brain back into gear for a few seconds, but a moment later he’s striding after you.
     “I take care of the Falcon!”
     A huff of laughter bubbles out of you, entirely lacking in humour. “Lightspeed skipping.”
     “That was one time!” His voice squeaks out of him much higher than he’d like, and as they emerge into the main hold, he clears his throat. “And the Falcon was fine.”
     You come to a stop so suddenly that he can almost hear your shoes screeching on the floor. “It was twice, and just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should. That seems like a lesson you should’ve learned by now, but no, you keep pushing it!”
     Reckless and stubborn, headstrong and utterly selfless. Not for the first time, you regret being dragged back into this mess. Your life hadn’t exactly been peaceful before — you are your father’s child, after all — but it wasn’t this.
     How many more heroes will you watch die before all of this is over?
     How much of it can you take?
     You watch one of those heroes stare at you, now, and it feels like you’ve swallowed a handful of broken glass.
     Behind you, sitting at the dejarik table and making absolutely no attempt to disguise his eavesdropping, Finn leans close to Rey. “You’d never guess they were married, huh?”
     He’s whispering, but it’s not exactly quiet.
     As if you’re suddenly possessed by the same entity, you and Poe whirl around, mouths agape. “We are not married.”
     An uncomfortable heat curls around your spine at the thought of it. Married to Poe Dameron? You cannot imagine anything worse.
     Chewie, seated opposite Finn and Rey, makes an exasperated sound. Rey can’t help but snort.
     You narrow your eyes at your father’s oldest friend, resting your hands on your hips. “‘Could’ve fooled me?’ Chewie, what are you talking about?”
     As your wrath settles upon a new victim, Poe takes the opportunity to slip out of sight, with every intention of hiding in the Engineering Bay on the opposite end of the ship until the danger has passed.
     Marching quickly down the corridor, Poe drags a hand over his unbearably warm face and feels like something beneath his ribcage is itching to crawl out. He thinks it might be his heart.
Married to you. Yeah. He can’t think of anything worse, either.
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shakespeareanwannabe · 4 months
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As You Wish, Chapter 3
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Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.
Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister, reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, swearing, verbal arguing, references to divorce, death of a character, injuries, misinformation about the US Navy and how it works (I tried my best)
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Briefing Room, Classified Location, 11 years ago
Briefing rooms after missions go horrifically sideways were typically quiet. Those who were involved in the mission were usually too busy inside their own heads, trying to shove feelings and memories into tiny little lockboxes that would then get shoved into other boxes and hidden in the dark recesses of the mind, only springing free when things got…dark. The top brass was usually reading reports and gathering steam, preparing to bring the hand of God down upon the person (or people) who were responsible for the mission going…poorly. Therefore, the rooms were usually can-hear-a-pin-drop quiet, but they were never this…still. This silent.
The fifteen lieutenants stood in four rows and, while most of them were four people deep, the one missing a person stood out in cold contrast, as did the empty spot at the front of the room, where the team leader usually stood. Cyclone, Warlock and Hondo stood just past that spot; heads ducked together in a whispered conversation. Besides that, nobody moved. Nobody stirred. Not Bob, balancing on a pair of crutches with a cast bracing his leg up to his knee. Not Fritz, his arm strapped against his chest to immobilize it. Not Rooster, with a black and purple bruise on his temple, or Coyote, a neat row of stitches gracing his cheek, or Hangman, who felt a painful twinge every time he breathed, the binding protecting his bruised and fractured ribs pulling taut with every inhale. None dared to move or fidget.
Finally, Admiral Simpson moved into the empty space at the front of the room and sighed.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen…I don’t think I need to tell you what an absolute clusterfuck that was.” Fanboy flinched, his head ducking fractionally as the words carried clear across the gathering. “In fact, it was such an absolute clusterfuck that Rear Admiral Cain has decided to disband the Dagger Squad. Immediately.”
Jake heard Yale gasp behind him, and he would have too, if it weren’t for the sinking weight in his chest. The mission had been a clusterfuck, there was no doubt about it, but they had achieved their mission. He had risked his ass after watching Maverick’s plane get shot out of the sky, putting all thought of his little Charlie girl waiting for him at home and the whisper of ‘god damnit, Buttercup was right’ out of his head, and he had taken charge. He had been the one to pull Rooster out of his single-minded mission to avenge Mav’s death, he had been the one to take down the jet that had been targeting an ejected Bob and Natasha, and he, Payback and Fanboy had been the ones to deliver the payload in the end, effectively taking out the target.
He had brought all but one of them home safely, but he didn’t feel any sense of relief, or even grief over Mav’s death. All he felt was the warmth of his baby girls, curled up against his chest as he rocked them in their nursery. All he tasted was the sweetness of Buttercup’s kiss, all he smelled was that newborn baby smell that he swore to God was the best thing he’d ever smelled in his life. All he saw was Buttercup’s tear-stained face as she gathered Abby in her arms and left, the sound of the door clicking shut echoing in his ears. If his reaction time had been even a millisecond slower, he could’ve been in Mav’s position, and then what? What would happen to his Charlie then?
“…because of the nature of this mission, disbanding the Dagger Squad, and because you all are the best of the best, the Rear Admiral has decided to make you an offer. As you know, the Navy doesn’t often let you make very many decisions, so I want you to think carefully before you respond, because we do need your answer today. Your first option is to be absorbed into another Squad; in which case you would be shipping out today for your new assignments. Yes, Lieutenant Fitch, if both members of your team decide to go with option one, you will be keeping your WSO. Your second option is—”
The clatter of metal against wood stole the words from Cyclone’s lips, and everyone turned towards the mild-mannered, quiet, shy WSO standing behind the glaringly empty space in the third row.
“—retirement, with a full pension and an honourable discharge,” Cyclone finished, staring down at Bob’s nameplate, lying on the desk beside him.
“I think it’s pretty clear what I choose,” the WSO spoke softly, but no one in the squad could miss the barely tempered rage in his voice.
“Lieutenant Floyd—”
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Granted,” Warlock stepped up next to Cyclone.
“I almost died on this mission,” Bob stated frankly, his gaze never wavering from Cyclone’s face. “I had to eject Lieutenant Trace and I from our aircraft after she was struck in the face by shrapnel that broke through our windshield and destroyed her helmet. Debris that came from Maverick’s plane.” The silence was heavy, tension mounting with every word, but Bob pressed on. “Nat’s never going to fly again. They already told me. And frankly, sir? I don’t know if I have it in me to bond with another pilot after holding my best friend’s body as we waited for rescue, already knowing that our team lead was KIA.”
Cyclone opened his mouth to speak, but a gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“I understand, son. If you, or anyone else, decide to retire, know that you’ll be going with the full gratitude of the US Navy,” Warlock responded.
“Thank you, sir,” Bob saluted, then propelled himself out of line, crutching past the waiting rows of his friends and coworkers as he headed for the door. “I’ll fill out any paperwork you need, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“There’s no need to pack and go so quickly.”
“All due respect, sir, but yes, there is,” he came to a stop in front of Jake and fixed him with a steely look. “My family needs me. And if I don’t help them, who will?”
Jake swallowed painfully, his heart pressing against his aching ribs with every heartbroken beat, the roar of fear and shame and anxiety swirling around in his head, blocking out every sound other than the whispers of his regrets.
This wasn’t how his life was supposed to go. Football captain, homecoming king, star pupil of the Naval Academy, he flew through OCS and aced his ASTB. He was the only pilot of his generation with a confirmed air to air kill, handpicked for Top Gun and their top-secret uranium mission. And, on top of all of that, up until six months ago, he’d had the most perfect, beautiful wife waiting for him at home with their precious newborn twins.
Now, he was a divorced single dad of one beautiful little girl. A beautiful little girl that he’d had to leave in the capable hands of Penny Benjamin when the Squad had been deployed. A beautiful little girl whose sister he missed so incredibly much that it threatened to bring him to his knees. Whose mother had been right about damn near everything.
“Lieutenant Seresin?”
Jake blinked, his vision and hearing coming back into focus as Cyclone stepped down to face him.
“I’m going to be frank with you, Lieutenant. You’re the best of the best,” Cyclone stated, stepping closer. “Your skills in the cockpit are unmatched and you showed the type of leadership qualities we need in this line of work. There are whispers of promoting you due to your actions on this last mission. With the loss of Captain Mitchell and your actions on this mission, you are now the only ace pilot that the Navy has to offer. You’d have your choice of assignments, should you choose to stay. It would be a damn shame to lose you, son.”
Jake felt something squeeze in his chest, and this time it wasn’t his busted ribs. Being a Naval aviator was the only thing he had ever wanted to be, and Jake Seresin always got what he wanted. He should be elated, planning for his move to the best naval base in the country, where they would probably let him lead his own squad after the way he led the Dagger Squad home safely, tearing victory from the jaws of defeat. He could be Lieutenant Commander Seresin.
Buttercup’s tears and the clicking of his apartment door as it swung shut.
Those bright baby blues that were just now starting to darken into the very same light green he saw in the mirror every morning.
The powdery scent of diaper powder and formula, and the solid warmth and weight of his baby girl in his arms.
“With all due respect, Admiral?” Jake pushed through the catch in his throat. “It would be even more of a damn shame for my daughter to lose her dad. I’m all she’s got. I…I can’t let her down. I can’t let her ever think there’s a chance in hell that her daddy ain’t comin’ back to her. I’m afraid I have to thank you for the opportunity and request that you tender my resignation. Sir.”
Cyclone sighed, a wave of disappointment cresting over his face as he opened his mouth to argue, to convince him to stay, but a firm hand gripped his shoulder.
“We understand,” Warlock reached out and shook his hand. “Thank you for your service, Lieutenant Seresin.”
Jake nodded, shaking his hand before turning and saluting Cyclone. “Thank you, sir.”
“I…I’m with him.” Jake turned and saw Javy saluting the two members of the brass.
“Coyote…”
“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. I followed your ass on the football field, I followed your ass to the Naval Academy, and now I’m following your ass out the door. You’re not the only one Charlie’s got, man. You both got me.”
“And me.”
The two men turned to see Rooster fiddling with his name plate.
“Bradshaw…” Cyclone’s voice rose in shock.
“My mama never wanted this for me,” Bradley continued, as if he hadn’t heard him. “I know she didn’t. Hell, my mama never stepped another foot on a plane after my daddy died. She was too terrified of bein’ in the air, thinkin’ I might lose her too. I used to think that flying brought me closer to my dad, that I could feel him when I was alone in the cockpit.” He unpinned his name plate carefully, studying the engraving. Lt. Bradshaw. “I can’t feel him anymore,” he murmured. “I’m older than he ever got to be. And now Mav’s gone…” Rooster sighed. “I don’t think I’ll be able to shake this last mission, sir. I’d be a detriment to any team I join, and I don’t want to put anyone in that position. So…I’m walking away.”
“I…understand. Thank you, gentlemen, for your years of service.”
Rooster saluted, then the three men walked out of the briefing room, the weight of their actions blanketing them.
“So…what now?”
Jake rubbed at his ribs. “We go to Mav’s funeral…then I guess we go home.”
“And where exactly is home?” Rooster drawled. “I can’t imagine you want to stay in your apartment after…everything.”
Jake shook his head, his tactician’s brain kicking into high gear. “Javy?”
“Yeah, man?”
“I think it’s time we introduce Bradshaw here to some Texas barbecue.”
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The Brig, Camp Silver Star, Present Day
“Amelia? You…you knew?” Charlie yanked at the t-shirt that felt like it was closing in around her neck.
Amelia kicked off her rainboots, shed her yellow raincoat, and shuffled towards them, gingerly taking a seat on Abby’s bed.
“Yeah…I knew.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Charlie’s hands clenched rhythmically as she tried to breathe.
“I didn’t know the two of you were here at the same time,” Amelia soothed. “I found out that day that cantaloupe ended up in the fruit salad. You both came to me to ask about it, and I went to find my mom right away. That’s when she told me that she had sent emails about the camp to your aunt and uncles, offering a friends and family discount if you came for these specific weeks.”
“A-Aunt Penny knew too?” Charlie croaked.
“She did. Charlie, I—”
Charlie shook her head, sending her blond braid flying, the end whipping at her face with the force of it. “No. No. This is all a coincidence. It has to be one big coincidence. My dad and your m-mom…them knowing each other doesn’t mean anything.”
“Charlie…” Amelia started, but Abby felt something snap inside of her.
“You’re not actually stupid enough to believe that, are you?” she spat. “Why can’t you just admit that it all makes sense? Our parents knew each other, they got married, and they had us. We have the same birthday, we look identical, and we have these pictures to prove it! Why is that so difficult for you to see?”
“Because it means he lied to me!” Charlie shrieked, burying her head in her hands. “He lied to me. My whole life. He hid my mom and my sister from me for twelve years! He’s my best friend, we tell each other everything, we do everything together, and he lied to me!”
Charlie’s shoulders shook with the force of heavy sobs as the wind whipped at the windows, making the cabin shake. She’d asked her dad about her mother for years, and he had never told her. And neither had Javy or Rooster, who so clearly knew her mother too. Her chest ached with the sting of betrayal, and she had no idea how she was supposed to go home and look her three favourite people in the eyes after finding out they had been hiding such a massive secret from her.
Charlie flinched as she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders, and she sniffled as her head was tugged onto Abby’s shoulder.
“W-why aren’t you angry?” she whispered.
“I honestly don’t know,” Abby murmured back, staring sightlessly out the window. “I know that I should be. I know that my mum and Uncle Bob and Auntie Nat lied by omission by not telling me about you and dad, but I just…can’t.”
“Why would they do this to us?” Charlie scrubbed at her face with the sleeve of her sweater. “How is it legal to say that each parent gets a kid, and they never have to see the other one?”
“They had a custody arrangement…” Amelia had moved to kneel at the edge of Charlie’s bed.
“What sick judge would agree to something like this?” Charlie hiccupped as Abby removed her arm and leaned forward, desperation shining in her eyes.
“No one,” Amelia sighed and turned her face downwards. “Now, I don’t have all the information. I was just a kid when your parents split up, and my mom and Mav tried to shield me from the worst of it. All I know is that they got engaged after dating for like a really short amount of time, then your mom found out she was pregnant with you two, and they eloped in Las Vegas. Mav was pissed.”
“Why?”
“Didn’t he like my mum?”
“He loved your parents, both of them. Hangman was a pain in the butt, but Mav wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. After that first mission they flew together, when Hangman saved Mav and Rooster’s life, nobody really cared that Hangman was cocky. The way he could needle at the other members of his squad, it only ever pushed them to be the best that they could be. I know Mav saw a lot of good in your dad, and he really cared about him. And your mom? I think Mav loved your mom because she really helped bring Hangman down to earth. He once told me, ‘Buttercup keeps Hangman’s feet on the ground while his brain is racing through the sky’,” Amelia chuckled. “God, I loved hanging around with your parents. They were so cool.”
“Wait…Buttercup?” Abby bit her lip. “That’s what my aunt and uncle call my mum. Well, that and kiddo.”
“Yeah, nicknames around Miramar kinda just…stuck. Your dad started calling your mom Buttercup, and that was that. She was Buttercup from then on.”
“She even has a buttercup tattoo on her collarbone,” Abby said excitedly, her mind racing with the implication.
“That’s great and all, but can we get back to the story? Why was Mav angry?”
“Because he wanted to be there when they got married,” Amelia laughed quietly. “The Dagger Squad got chosen to do an air show in Las Vegas, and Hangman was able to work it so that your mom could come. Mav didn’t question it at all, even though he knew they were engaged and expecting. Your dad had to do 200 pushups when he got back for not telling Mav the plan so that he could be there,” Amelia giggled. “But I never heard him complain about it. He thought your mom was worth it.”
“So then…what happened?”
“Like I said, I don’t know. My mom and dad split when I was younger, and I guess my mom thought that watching one of my favourite couples in the world split up might bring up some bad memories, so she and Mav sheltered me from a lot of it. I know they had a really bad fight, they both said some things, and then they split, and they each took one of you.”
“H-how did they decide who to take?” Charlie trembled.
“I honestly don’t know. But I know it was never supposed to be permanent. The custody arrangement, I mean.”
“Then what happened? Why did they keep us from each other?”
Amelia shrugged. “I know that it was partly your dad’s deployment schedule. It was hard to set up a visitation schedule when Dagger Squad was being called into action so often. Then, the pandemic hit, and nobody wanted to be sending really young kids on international flights where they could get sick and potentially have lasting complications. After that, I really don’t know.”
Charlie took a deep, shuddering breath as Abby chewed on her lower lip. The cabin was silent, save for the wind and rain lashing at the windows.
Finally, Amelia sighed. “I know this a big revelation for the two of you, and I hate to leave when you probably have a billion more questions. But I do have to get back. I’ll be back later tonight to collect your tray, and I’ll hopefully have more time to answer your questions. Okay?”
Abby nodded but Charlie sat stock still, staring into space.
“Charlie?” Amelia called softly, ducking her head to catch her gaze. “Are we okay, hon?”
Charlie nodded mutely and Amelia returning it with a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll see you both later.”
“Bye Amelia,” Abby called softly as the door swung shut behind her.
Silence fell for a brief moment before Abby looked over at Charlie.
“What are you thinking?”
“Shhh…” Charlie hissed, but Abby didn’t take offense. It was clear from the deep set of Charlie’s eyebrows and the pensive look in her eyes that she was planning something. No…plotting something.
Abby shrugged and walked over to the small card table that held their trays of food. Two small Thermos’ of chili, an array of Ziploc bags filled with cheese, chili flakes, bacon bits, and sour cream, and two snack sized bags of tortilla chips were seated neatly on the silver trays, and Abby felt her stomach grumble.
She had just sat down to her freshly topped chili when Charlie moved, sitting across from her with a steely look in her eyes.
“Charlie?”
“I want to get to know my mom,” she stated simply, as though she was saying that the sky was blue or that grass was green.
Abby nodded eagerly. “I know! I can’t wait to get to know dad! Maybe we could call him together on Friday and talk to him together? And then we could do the same for mum!”
Charlie shook her head. “No. I mean really get to know her. I want to meet her in person. I want to be able to hug her. I want to spend time with her, and I want to be able to do that without having to spend time answering questions about how we found each other or her trying to tell me about what happened between her and dad.”
“I…I want that too,” Abby confessed, though Charlie’s words were confusing her. “And we can do that. Once they know that we know, we’ll be able to use that custody agreement and see mum and dad, and each other, more often.”
Charlie shook her head again. “You don’t understand. I don’t want to talk to dad. Or Rooster. Or Javy. They lied to me for my whole entire life! I’m so mad at them that I’ll probably just scream the whole time we’re talking to them. Besides, whose to say that they won’t make excuses and not let us see each other again? What happens if they just decide that I can’t see mom and you don’t get to see dad?”
“They wouldn’t do that!”
“Abby, they already did do that!” Charlie reached out and grabbed Abby’s wrist, her gaze pleading. “Don’t you want to get to know dad without having to deal with all of this? Don’t you want to be able to meet him and get to know him without all the awkward stuff, like him asking you what your favourite colour is or what you got for your tenth birthday?”
“Well…yeah. Of course, I do. But…how would we do that? It’s not like I could just go to Texas when camp is over.”
“Why not?” Charlie’s eyes shone bright with excitement. “Who says you couldn’t just take my boarding pass and fly to Texas to meet dad? Who says I couldn’t just take your boarding pass and fly to London to meet mom?”
“Charlie, you sound insane,” Abby gently removed her hand from her wrist and picked up her spoon. “First of all, I don’t have a boarding pass. I fly stand-by because my uncle is a pilot and gets me on the plane for free, so long as he’s the one flying. Second, we might look a like, but there are still some cosmetic differences! My hair is shorter than yours, I have pierced ears, and we have different accents. They would certainly notice all that. And third, our parents have known us since birth. Surely they would be able to tell that we’re not us!”
“We can fix those things!” Charlie leaned forward. “I can teach you all about my life in Texas. I can show you the layout of the ranch, which cows to avoid, how to tack up my horse at home. I can teach you all about dad and Javy and Rooster. I can cut my hair! And listen, it’s not even that hard to fake a British accent. Pip, pip, cheerio!”
Abby snorted. “And what? You expect me to teach you all about London? Where to catch the tube, the layout of the flat, where the best fish and chips are? You want me to tell you all about mum, and where Uncle Bob hides his glasses cleaning cloth, and how not to stare at Auntie Nat’s scar? You want me to start talking like a cowboy? And what about my ears being pierced?”
“Why not?” Charlie begged, her green eyes shining. “We’ve got like a month to teach each other everything we would ever need to know. And we both have cell phones, so it’s not like we would be completely cut off from each other. If I had a question, I could just text you and ask!”
“Charlie, you sound ridiculous!” Abby threw her spoon down and rubbed her eyes. “There’s no way I can teach you about my life in a month. You want us to try to pull one over on the people that know us best. It would never work.”
Charlie bit her lip then leaned in for the kill. “I saw the way you lit up when Amelia mentioned mom’s nickname being Buttercup. I know how excited you got when you realized that mom has a tattoo of a buttercup. I know you were thinking the exact same thing I was.”
“Which is?”
“That if the people around her still call her Buttercup, maybe she still has feelings for dad. The nickname obviously meant enough to her that she got it tattooed on her body, and she hasn’t tried to get it removed or anything.”
“Mum, she…she’s never dated,” Abby admitted quietly. “She always says she just doesn’t have the time, but…I’ve always hoped that maybe it’s because she still has feelings for my dad.”
“Dad is the same way,” Charlie whispered. “He says I’m his best girl, but I know from Rooster and Javy that dad could be going on lots of dates if he wanted to. They love to tease him about it, and he tells them that he’s too busy with me and the ranch. But I know it’s because he still loves mom.” Charlie reached for her wrist again and this time Abby didn’t pull away. “Abby, if we do this, they will eventually have to switch us back. I’m not suggesting we do this forever. We can get to know them for a bit, then tell them the truth, and they’ll have to meet to switch us back. And when they meet…”
“…they could fall in love again,” Abby murmured.
“They could. Or, at the very least, they can talk and figure out a schedule so we don’t have to be separated again. C’mon…isn’t it at least worth a shot?” Charlie blinked over at her; the puppy dog eyes she had learned from her dad shining in full force.
Abby sighed. “Do you really think we can do it?”
“We’ve got a month, we’ve got social media, and we’ve got access to the computers once a week. I don’t see how we couldn’t pull this off.”
Abby chewed on her bottom lip. “O-okay…but if I don’t feel comfortable with this later, I want to be able to change my mind.”
“Done.” Charlie stuck her hand out and Abby grasped it, pumping it twice in the air with a grin on her face. “Now…let’s get to work.”
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wheels-of-despair · 5 days
Text
Munson v. O'Donnell Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: It's 1986, and Eddie Munson's long high school career has come down to O'Donnell's final… and Evil Woman believing in him. Contains: Tears, comfort, lunch, confrontation, and a happy ending. Words: 2k A sort-of companion fic to Case of the Missing Eddie, but it's not required reading.
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Eddie's not at the Hellfire table at lunch.
Or in his van.
This could only mean one thing: He's in the woods, because his final exam in O'Donnell's class did not go well.
With a quick look around to make sure you aren't being watched, you duck into the woods by way of the parking lot. You'll take the long way around to go undetected by any staff trying to catch students skipping the last few days of school.
Not that it matters, anyway. Everybody's just fucking around and killing time now that exams are over.
You traipse along the trail toward the picnic table where Eddie conducts business. And sometimes hides out at when things aren't going great. When you enter the clearing, you see him hunched over the table, his head resting on crossed arms and his face hidden by a mop of unruly hair.
"Hey," you announce your presence quietly before straddling the bench beside him. "You okay?"
He heaves a sigh so deep, it feels like he's expelled all the air from your lungs as well as his own.
You place a comforting hand on his back and lean your other elbow on the table.
"What happened?" you whisper.
"Take a wild guess," he grumbles, turning his head away from you.
He got his exam results, alright. You start rubbing slow circles on his back.
"How bad?"
"Fourteen."
"What?"
"Fourteen," he repeats.
"You got fourteen wrong?"
"Percent."
"Hm?"
"I got 14%."
"How the fuck did you get 14%?!" You regret your tone instantly.
"I don't fucking know!" His voice cracks, and so does your heart.
"Baby, we studied for that so hard, there's no way--"
"It doesn't fucking matter," he snaps, still facing away from you. "She humiliated me. 'Mr. Munson, congratulations on the lowest score I've ever had the displeasure to grade. It's a pity the girl who's been doing your homework couldn't take your exam for you, too.' Made everyone's day. Cemented my place as the dumbest fucking student to ever step foot in this shithole."
You shake with rage, clenching your fists in an effort to keep your hands still. You're going to kill them all.
"It doesn't fucking matter," he repeats, lifting his head for a moment. "I'm not going back. Fuck it. I quit." He crosses his arms and rests his head on them again, letting out a long sigh.
You watch him deflate and put a pin in your rage. He doesn't need you to go on a rampage right now. He needs you to be rational, and to fix this. Your killing spree can wait.
"Okay," you whisper, returning your hand to his back and leaning over to place a kiss on his shoulder. You wait a beat. "Do you still have the test?"
"Scantron."
"Do you have it?"
He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a green and white ball, and drops the crumpled paper on the table without looking at you.
You straighten it out and look it over. Maybe he missed a question early on and was off by one line on the rest? No, there are exactly 50 things filled in. And they're filled in nice and dark, with the shiny new #2 pencil you'd given him that morning for luck. You studied this material with him for weeks. He knows this stuff. You'll have to take it to O'Donnell and investigate.
"You eat lunch?"
"Not hungry," he grumbles.
"You will be next period."
"What's the fucking point?" he spits.
"I'm going to see O'Donnell after school, we're gonna figure this out," you say calmly. His lunchbox is nowhere in sight, so you pull out your own and start arranging items on the table.
"Don't fucking bother."
"Shut up and eat your fucking lunch," you order.
He finally lifts his head and looks at you. His eyes are bloodshot. The tip of his nose is red. Eddie Munson tried so hard to to convince people he didn't care, but it was all bullshit. He was trying this year. He was really trying. You know, because you helped him study before every test. Even in the few classes you didn't share. He knew the material. And you weren't leaving school grounds until you cleared up this 14% bullshit.
"Look," you begin gently, closing your hand over his on the table. "I don't know what happened on exam day, but I know you did not get a fourteen. You worked so hard. I know you know this stuff. So we're gonna go see that old hag, and we're gonna figure this out." His eyes begin to water again. Your voice turns serious. "Or I'm gonna burn Hawkins High to the fucking ground, with all our records inside. Then we all get to start over."
The corner of his mouth twitches. There he is.
"C'mon, eat up. We need fuel if we're gonna go slay the O'Donnell Dragon."
He hesitates, so you lift a cookie to his mouth. Chocolate chip, baked by your mom; his favorite. He looks at it, then at you, and pouts.
"Eat it or wear it, Munson." You try to sound threatening, but your smile betrays you.
He leans forward and takes it with his teeth, eyes twinkling with mischief instead of tears now. It's a good start.
~ Three Hours Later ~
"You wanna wait outside?"
Eddie shakes his head. He's met you outside of Mrs. O'Donnell's classroom after the final bell, as instructed, and he's looking more nervous than he did the morning before taking the exam.
"Alright. C'mon."
You feel him trail behind you as you enter Mrs. O'Donnell's classroom. She's sitting at her desk with an open gradebook and a calculator. She's not even your teacher, why are you so nervous? Is this what Eddie had to deal with every day for... how many years?
"Mrs. O'Donnell?" you ask, summoning all your courage for Eddie.
"Yes?"
"We're here to discuss 14%."
"I don't think there's anything to discuss," she sniffs, pursing her lips and pushing her glasses further up her nose. She's waiting for you to state your case.
"He knows this. We made flash cards, I quizzed him every night. There's no way he scored that low."
She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. Like you'd lie about fucking flash cards.
"Can I see the test, at least, so I can find out what he's having trouble with?"
Mrs. O'Donnell sighs and sifts through a pile of papers on her desk. "A or B?"
You look at Eddie's scantron sheet to find his version of the test, neatly printed right below his name. "A."
She hands you a copy of the A test.
You take the paper to a desk near the front of the room and lay the scantron sheet next to the test. Your eyes dart from each question to Eddie's filled-in scantron sheet… and become more puzzled with each correct answer.
You look at Eddie, who's leaning against the wall and staring at his shoes. Mrs. O'Donnell's attention has returned to her gradebook.
"Uh…" you chuckle awkwardly, bringing both the scantron and the test to her desk. "Could you take another look at this, please?"
She sighs and reaches for the papers, holding them on top of her gradebook. Her eyes begin to dart back and forth just like yours had. And then her brow furrows. She reaches for the scantron answer keys and compares them to Eddie's crumpled sheet. Her eyes bulge.
She looks up at Eddie, then back at the papers on her desk. She reaches for a red pen, hunches over, and marks furiously as she grades his test manually. Eddie takes a cautious step closer and holds his breath. This is it. His entire high school career has come down to this one exam.
A moment later, she punches a few numbers into her calculator, scribbles out the 14% on the crumpled sheet, and writes a new number. She circles it twice.
"Mr. Munson?" He tenses at the formality, looking like a deer in headlights a few steps behind you. She beckons him forward with a crook of her finger, and he creeps toward the desk and stands next to you.
She hands him his corrected scantron sheet, and he holds it so you can both see the number circled in red.
92%.
Both of your jaws drop. You look at the grade, and each other, and the grade again, and then finally, Mrs. O'Donnell.
"You had an A test that got mixed in with the B's somehow. I hate that we have to do different tests, but we've got so many sneaky little cheaters in here, administration requires at least two variations for exams. I don't know why my classroom aide didn't catch it, Tina is usually so attentive to detail."
Would that be Tina Thomas, the heir apparent to Chrissy Cunningham's reign as the Queen of Hawkins High? It would be awfully hard for poor Tina to lead the cheer team with broken legs.
"Does this mean I passed the class?" Eddie asks, interrupting O'Donnell's rambling and your violent thoughts.
"One second," she says, flipping to the page of her gradebook where Eddie's fate lies. You reach for his hand, and hold each other in white-knuckle grips while you watch Mrs. O'Donnell work. She uses a bottle of correction fluid to erase the 14%, blows it dry, and replaces it with 92%. Then she punches in a few numbers on her comically large calculator and writes new figures in her gradebook that you can't quite make out. You and Eddie cling to each other and wait on bated breath until she removes her glasses, places them on her desk, and looks up with a crooked smile.
"Congratulations, Mr. Munson, you've finally passed my class."
The whoop that follows can probably be heard in all of Roane County.
After a million thank-you's to both you and Mrs. O'Donnell, who was much nicer to him than usual - although you notice that she never actually apologized for embarrassing him - you finally get Eddie out of her classroom. You walk to the van with his arm around your shoulders, and yours wrapped around his middle.
"I'm gonna graduate. I'm really gonna fucking graduate." He's been grinning so hard for so long, his face probably hurts. "FINALLY!" he yells to the handful of students still lingering in the mostly-empty parking lot, who barely react. They're used to paying him no mind. "Oh man, Wayne's not gonna believe this."
"Think he's up yet?" you ask, looking up at your beaming partner with pride while he fishes his keys out of his pocket.
Eddie glances at his watch and frowns. "Nah, not for another hour, probably. I don't wanna wake him."
"Well, Mr. Munson," you grin, shifting so you're standing in front of him with your hands on his shoulders. "I happen to know an excellent way to kill an hour."
"Oh yeah?" he smirks, stepping closer, backing you up against the side of his van.
"Mhm," you hum, trailing your hands down his chest and stopping at his belt. You find your way beneath the hem of his shirt and trace the skin just above his jeans with your fingertips. "It's not every day a 14% gets turned into a 92%, even for a skilled Dungeon Master such as yourself." He shivers. "Seems like something that should be… celebrated."
He starts nodding, and doesn't stop until he opens the rear door. He uses both of his hands to grab your ass and push you inside when you purposely take too long getting in. You're on your back and laughing when he slams the door and pounces.
Eddie Munson was a very happy soon-to-be-graduate when he dropped you off at home half an hour later.
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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 4 months
Text
Don't Touch What's Mine
Pairing: GatorxReader
Summary: You're sick of Gator's shit so you decide to make him jealous and it works. Maybe a little too well.
Word Count: 4K
18+ Only
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Stepping into The Drunken Duck felt like stepping back in time, to a time when lawlessness was the norm. When gambling, drunken rages, and prostitution were just accepted as a part of everyday life. When a man would pop in for a drink and get a fuck on the side after a long day breaking his back in the sun working on the railroad. 
At least that was what Jimmy, the owner, would like you to feel when you entered his bar. Everything inside screamed the Wild West from the batwing doors you had to push through after entering the main door to the old oil paintings that adorned the walls. You personally found it a bit tacky, wishing there was somewhere a bit more modern in town but beggars couldn’t be choosers where you lived. 
Besides, you were on a mission tonight and your target was just across the room, shooting a game of pool with some of his fellow officers. The gang, not dissimilar to a group of lawmen from the 1800s, flashing their badges around, running the town the way they saw fit, bending the law to their will and breaking it just as often as they upheld it. When your daddy was the sheriff, you could do pretty much anything you wanted and Gator used that to his advantage in the worst way. 
Hazel eyes lifted, roaming over every single inch of you, from the make-up you’d so carefully applied, to the cleavage spilling out of your tight red top, to the miles of leg bared underneath the tiny black skirt. One side of his mouth curved, a mixture of a smirk and a sneer. Oh, you’d chosen this outfit specifically for tonight but it wasn’t for him. It was for the first attractive guy you could find so he could watch and seethe with jealousy at how easy it was for you to move on. 
With a roll of your eyes, you turned your body, heading directly for the bar. You were beyond sick of his bullshit, stringing you along, excuse after excuse why you couldn’t take things to the next step. His words from the other night came back to you, “I’m just not a one woman man, darling. I mean, look at me. It would be selfish to not share this. I’m doing the Lord’s work.”
Jesus Christ. He could be such a fucking prick. He thought he could have anything he wanted with no repercussions. He thought he could take and take without ever giving anything in return. It really was no wonder with who his father was. Sheriff Tillman walked around like he owned the town and that was because he did. No one questioned him. No one told him no. They were too scared. Everybody in this town knew exactly what happened when you crossed Roy Tillman.
But you weren’t scared of Gator. No. He put on a tough guy face but you knew he was really just a scared little boy who worked way too damn hard for Daddy’s approval. You’d seen right through the hard shell to the creamy center in the middle and it had scared him. That was the real reason he was keeping you at a distance. He couldn’t handle anything that threatened the tough guy image he projected to the world.
“Hey there doll,” Stacy called out from behind the bar, placing a small cocktail napkin in front of you. “What are you having tonight?”
“Gin and tonic with lime.”
“You got it.” She scooped ice into a highball glass, grabbing the bottle of gin, tilting her head behind you. “You and Gator not together tonight?”
Lips pursed, red nails tapping on the wood of the bar, you snorted, “There is no me and Gator. I don’t think there ever was. He’s just a little boy playing at being a man. I’m done with his bullshit.”
“That why you got the girls on full display tonight?” she teased, pulling the nozzle to the glass to add the tonic. “Because you’re done with him?”
“Maybe they’re on display for someone else.”
“Ahh, I see. You know, that’s a dangerous game my friend.”
“What?”
“Making a man like that jealous. Gator’s got a trigger hair temper and an actual trigger to pull. You could be setting some poor man up to not make it home tonight.”
“Trust me, he doesn’t care enough to shoot some poor guy for talking to me.”
“That must be why his eyes keep creeping over here, because he doesn’t care,” chuckled Stacy, sliding the glass to you with a wink before moving down the bar to another customer. 
Whatever. Stacy didn’t know what she was talking about. Gator was not going to shoot anybody. He might punch someone but only if he actually cared enough that you were talking to someone else. And based on the way he’d been acting lately, you didn’t see that happening. No. You just wanted him to see that you didn’t need him. You didn’t need those hazel eyes that darkened as he hovered above you or those full lips that would torment you until your thighs quaked or that thick cock that stretched you, filling you up until he was all you could feel. Absolutely not.
Fuck. Your thighs pressed together in an attempt to quell the ache throbbing in your center, your lips wrapping around your straw in the hopes that the cold liquid would cool the sudden burning inside you. Just the thought of him had you worked up. He might be a prick but he was a damn good lay. 
“Excuse me? Is anyone sitting here?”
You turned your head to find a man smiling at you, his palm up toward the stool next to yours. Well…lucky for you he was an attractive man, exactly what you’d come in here looking for tonight. Ocean blue eyes, sandy blond hair, a sharp jawline, and a physique that filled out his black tee quite well. 
With a flirty smile, you tilted your head, “No. Please, join me.”
Grin widening, a mouth full of bright white teeth, he hopped onto the stool, extending his hand. 
“Jack.”
“Well, hello Jack.”
“And you are?”
“I’m whoever you want me to be for the night,” you teased, slipping your straw between your lips. You weren’t looking for a friend and you certainly weren’t looking for anything serious. You just wanted fun, something to help you forget the bullshit that was Gator Tillman, and possibly to piss him off a little in the process. Judging by the intense prickle that was running up your spine, letting you know his eyes were on you, it was working.
“You really going to make this that easy for me, sweetheart?” he asked and you didn’t miss how his eyes moved down to your chest, tongue running over his bottom lip. Oh yeah, he would definitely do. 
“Are you complaining?”
“Not at all. I just thought I might have to work a bit. You know, a little conversation, buy you a couple drinks, possibly some food.”
“Well, ain’t this your lucky night. I happen to be in the mood for some fun. That’s what I came here to find and I think you’ll do just fine.” Leaning forward, your eyes slid to the side, finding Gator propped against the wall, arms folded over his chest, eyes glued on the two of you. “You can’t tell me that wasn’t your intention when you came over here.”
“Oh,” growled Jack, palm coming to your thigh, fingertips pressing into your flesh, his body moving into you, mouth next to your ear, “it was. I mean, the way you’re advertising yourself made it pretty hard to resist.”
“Oh yeah?” You smirked, half of your attention on Jack’s voice in your ear, letting you know exactly how hot he thought you were, and half of your attention on Gator who looked like he wanted to rip Jack’s head right off his body. 
Maybe you were playing a dangerous game but your panties were already damn near soaked, your skin practically vibrating with the sight of him looking like this man was just his understudy. Looking like he wouldn’t hesitate to get his knuckles bloody to keep this man from touching you. Maybe it was dangerous but fuck if it wasn’t fun. 
“So, what do you say?” asked Jack, bringing you back to the conversation, realizing you had no idea what he’d asked. 
“Say about what?” “Getting out of here?” His palm slid further up your leg, cresting the hem of your skirt. “I have a…”
But what he had you never got to know because a large hand slammed into his shoulder, knocking him off the stool. He collided with the one next to it and then hit the floor, crying out in a mixture of shock and pain before looking up angrily at who had just hit him. 
“What the hell, man!?” yelled Jack. 
Gator loomed over him and you secretly thrilled at the sight. Anger coursed through him, his eyes dark and threatening, his chest rising and falling heavily, that sneer permanently etched as he looked in disgust at the man who’d just had his hands on you. 
“Get the fuck out of this bar,” he ground out, teeth bared menacingly, finger pointing at the door.
Jack scrambled to his feet, stepping into Gator, clearly oblivious to who exactly he was going toe to toe with. The rest of the bar was silent, nothing to be heard but for the quiet hum of the football game in the background, everyone waiting to see what happened because they knew exactly who this naive man was dealing with. 
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” huffed Jack, puffing out his chest. 
Gator smirked, his torso leaning in, invading Jack’s space as his hand dropped to the holster on his thigh. “I think I’m the law of this town so you should do exactly as I say. Now, here’s what’s going to happen. First, you’re going to apologize for touching what’s mine. Then you’re going to leave and you’re never even so much going to look at her again. Do you hear me?”
Jack’s eyes widened as he caught sight of the gun that was practically a part of Gator now. He never went anywhere without it whether he was on duty or not. Raising both of his hands, he took a step back, a nervous laugh falling from his mouth. 
“Look, man. I didn’t know she was yours. This was just a misunderstanding.”
“And?” Gator brought a hand next to his ear. “I’m not hearing the apology. You know it’s not good manners to try to take what isn’t yours without asking.”
“Sorry. I’m sorry, okay? I won’t…man, you won’t have to worry about me. I was just passing through town anyway. I’ll be gone in a few days.”
“No, you’ll be gone now.” Each step that Jack took toward the door, backing away, Gator followed. “You’re gonna get in your car and drive the fuck out of my town and don’t believe that sign on your way past the city limits. Don’t come back soon or ever.”
“Yeah, alright. I’m gone.”
Jack fled from the bar as if it were on fire, tripping over his own feet to get out the door and away from the menacing eyes of Gator. You sat, swirling your straw through your drink, as he turned those eyes on you, smiling amusedly. 
Hands on his hips, his head rocked back and forth as he took slow steps toward you, “Think you’re cute, don’t you, honey?”
You tilted your head, lips pouting, “Jack sure thought so.”
“Oh, I know he did. I saw the way he was touching you. But then you come in here dressed like a little slut and what did you expect? You want me to see that? Is that what this little show was? Trying to make me jealous?”
“I wasn’t trying to do anything but if I was, it clearly worked.”
He laughed harshly, “You are such a fucking brat, you know that? What the hell you think you’re doing letting some other guy paw at you like that, huh?” His hands, large hands, thick fingers that knew every inch of your body intimately, landed on either side of the bar, pinning you on your stool. He bent forward, nose brushing over yours. “You’re mine, honey. You know that.”
“I’m not anybody’s,” you snapped, swallowing hard, your body and brain at war with each other. “I am not one of your fucking horses. You don’t have a brand on me, Gator. I can fuck whoever I want.”
Lightning fast, one of those hands left the bar, slipping under your skirt to cup your heat. A whimper slipped past your lips, your hips rocking toward him. 
“Yeah, she knows exactly who she belongs to, doesn’t she?” he grinned, one finger slipped under the edge of your panties, parting your lips. “So wet already, darling. Now get that tight little ass out that door and in my car.”
Sense pushed through the haze of lust that Gator was quickly stirring up in you and placing both hands on his chest, you shoved him, hard. It wasn’t an easy feat but you managed to back him up just enough to hop off the stool. 
“Go to hell, Gator. You don’t want me. You just don’t want anyone else to have me. You’re such a goddamn hypocrite,” you seethed, remembering all the times he pushed you away, all the hurtful words he’d said. “Look at all the other ladies in this bar. Can’t be selfish now. Got to spread yourself around, right?” 
You grabbed your purse and a hand locked around your wrist, yanking you into his chest. You gasped, looking up into eyes that had now softened, melting into warm whiskey and lush green forests. Those eyes that had fooled you, that had convinced you that maybe, just maybe, there was something worth fighting for behind that damn tough guy mask he wore. 
“Darling, go get in the fucking car.”
“No!” you protested, trying to pull away but his hold was too tight and you had no hope of breaking it.
“I’m not gonna say it again and we ain’t gonna do this here.” His arms locked around your legs, hefting you over his shoulder like a sack of Idaho potatoes.
“Gator! Put me down!” you yelled, slamming your fists into his back, kicking your feet uselessly as he strolled out of the bar and around the back. “Jesus! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” he huffed, dropping you to your feet. The minute you made a move to step away, his hands covered the brick to the sides of you, his body pressing into you, pinning you against the back of the building. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You obviously wanted my attention and now you’ve got it.”
“I don’t want anything from you.”
“Oh no?” Then his hand was under your skirt again, fingers bypassing the slip of silk as if it was nothing, sliding through your slick and pressing into your heat. A moan you couldn’t have stopped if you tried escaped you and he grinned, teeth pressing into the flesh of his lower lip. “You telling me you don’t want that? How about this?” You gasped as he curled his fingers within you. “Funny. I don’t hear you protesting.”
“I hate you,” you growled, grinding down against his hand. 
“You don’t have to like me, darling, but you’re still fucking mine, you hear me? Coming in here with those tits hanging out.” His other hand dragged your shirt down, exposing you to the cool night air. His large palm covered your breast, kneading the flesh, squeezing roughly while his thumb ran over your clit, his fingers still driving you to the brink of madness. “These beautiful fucking tits are mine.” 
His head dropped, lips trying to capture yours and you snapped at him, attempting to bite. Maybe you’d fuck him but you weren’t kissing him. You were still pissed. A rumbling laugh shook his body as he tilted his head in amusement. 
“Feisty little kitty tonight, aren’t ya? Guess I’ll have to put my mouth to better use.”
Lips latched onto your nipple, sucking hard, tongue flicking over the hardened peak, and fuck, you hated him. You hated him so much but it felt so damn good. He was just so damn good at making you lose touch with reality, forgetting every single reason that he was a bad idea. Because right now he didn’t feel like a bad idea. Nothing about him felt bad because it was just too damn good. His teeth raked over your nipple and your hand flew up to cover your mouth, muffling the shriek that clawed its way up your throat.
“Uh-uh…none of that,” he ordered, dragging your hand away from your face. “I want you screaming, honey. I want you to fucking scream my name so no one ever mistakes who you belong to again.” His nose traced the line of your jaw, his fingers slamming into you punishingly while his thumb dragged over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your legs shook, hands clinging to his shoulders, breath coming out in short, sharp gasps. “Yeah? You hate me but ain’t nobody can make you come as hard as I can. You know why? Because I’m a winner.” That nose traced up your throat until his lips were at your ear. “Now come for me, darling, and let everyone know who’s making you feel this fucking good.” 
He bit down on your earlobe and you screamed, fingers clawing at his shirt as your entire body shook with the force of the kind of orgasm only Gator had ever given you. 
Strong hands on your arms spun your body, pressing your front against the building. He hiked your skirt roughly up to your waist. You heard the clang of his belt buckle, the slide of his zipper, and then the tip of his cock was dragging over your slit. 
“Fuck…” he hissed as he pressed the tip in. “So wet and hot.”
You splayed your hands against the brick to keep your skin from rubbing up against it. Jaw dropping, eyes rolled up as he slammed into in one thrust, stretching you, filling you in the way only he could. He was so fucking thick. The first time you hadn’t been sure you could take him but take him you did and fuck if you hadn’t walked funny for a couple days after that. 
“Who does this pussy belong to?” demanded Gator, slamming into you again and again, working out his aggression. He hated having his ego threatened and you’d done exactly that earlier. When you didn’t answer, his hand wrapped around your throat, pressing your back against his front. His other hand roughly grabbed onto your breast, fingers pinching your nipple painfully, twisting as he hissed, “Don’t be a brat, not after the shit you pulled earlier. Who does this pussy belong to?”
“You,” you gasped, struggling against the lack of air as his hold on your throat tightened, fingertips pressing into your skin. 
“Who do you belong to?”
“You…Gator…you…”
He released your throat and you sucked in a large lungful of air. Fingers wrapped in your hair, pulling it into his fist, yanking as he pistoned his cock into you. You grabbed onto his thighs, eyes rolling up and into your head, completely blown out with lust and desire. 
“Yes, you’re fucking mine. Mine. Just mine,” he growled as he slammed into you over and over. “Playing fucking games, being such a little bitch. Just want to piss me off. But no more. Every inch of you is mine. No one else gets to touch this, you understand me?”
“Yes…yes…” you groaned. 
“Shit, darling, I’m gonna…” He pulled out of you, spinning you around. “Get on your fucking knees.” You dropped down, gravel digging into your skin. His hand gripped his cock, pumping it. “That’s it. Gonna take all my cum like the dirty little whore you are, aren’t ya? Open that pretty mouth for me.” With a grunt he filled your throat with his release, head dropping back. Those eyes burned into yours, watching as you swallowed him down. “That’s my girl.” 
Reaching out his hands in offering, you took them, and he guided you to your feet. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, that familiar anxiety coiling up in your stomach because you were an idiot. You were right back where you started. Giving Gator exactly what he wanted and getting nothing in return. This entire night had been nothing but a shitshow. What had you been thinking? 
“Come here, darling,” he crooned softly, pulling you into his chest, the soft and sweet side of him showing once again. “You know I want you, don’t ya?”
You looked away from him, eyes focused on the streetlight, not wanting him to see how badly you wanted that to be true. Somewhere in the plan that had been just good sex, you’d started to actually care for him and you knew you were pathetic for it. You didn’t need him to remind you.
“Hey, look at me,” urged Gator, finger pressing under your chin. “Let’s go back to my place, huh? Come spend the night with me.”
“No, that’s alright. I have to…”
“You have to what? It’s Saturday, darling. I know you ain’t got nothing to do tomorrow. You ain’t exactly the good little church girl.”
“But you’re the good little church boy.”
“I think my daddy can handle me missing one Sunday. Come on.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I’ve been called worse things,” he laughed, smirking down at you and damn if you didn’t want to kiss him. “I know I’m an asshole but what were you thinking? You really thought I was gonna let some dickhead put his hands all over my girl?”
“And what does that mean exactly? Your girl? How many girls you got, Gator, since you unselfishly spread yourself around so much?” you demanded. 
“Last count, I only had the one. Look, I’ve been a first class prick. I know that but darling, I…damn it. Can you just come back to my place? This shit is hard for me and you know it.”
“Yeah. I do. But history has shown me nothing ever changes so why should I?”
“Because I don’t want to ever see you with anyone else. I might have to shoot the next son of a bitch who has the balls to look at you,” Gator said with a teasing smile. “I can try, okay? I’m willing to try. You willing to give me the chance to try?”
Those eyes widened, burning you straight through to your center. Damn it. You were probably insane for even considering it. You were probably going to live to regret it but you wanted it. You wanted him. You didn’t know why. He was, by all accounts, a walking red flag, glaringly telling you he would never change but you wanted to be the one. The one he wanted to change for.
“Fine. I’ll give you a try but damn it, Gator, this is the last time. If some things don’t change. If you can’t give me something real, I’m done.”
“How’s this for real?” he grinned, hands cupping your ass as his lips crashed down onto yours. 
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hazzyking · 8 months
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Well shit I was trying to write Sephiroth Smutt, and then it turned into Reno Smutt. But lest be honest. If it had the opportunity to turn into Reno smut, it wouldn't have been a good Sephiroth story anyway.
"I don't even think Sephiroth would even share the same space as Reno." That's what my BF said.
Credit to my job cause I thought of this while I was washing the company car at work. Except.... this one is spicier 🤣
Prompt: You and Reno are in the Shinra Hanger washing the company car.... and things get wet and wild ;)
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Wet, Wild and a little Flashy.
You hated this. Being a Turk was like constant punishment. You had no choice but to be a jack of all trades in this line of work. SOLDIER broke the car, and it was time to be a mechanic. SOLDIER made it dirty, and it was time to turn the hangar into a carwash. SOLDIER is stranded, and it is time to be a pilot. It was always something with these guys, and you've had enough of it. Not to mention the fact that your paired with Reno to do this mundane task, the tension between you two was so high you could cut it with a knife. "Yo, (Y/N), you gonna help?" Reno asked, already putting his suit jacket to the side and cuffing his white button-up shirt, which was never buttoned up all the way. Blush crept to your cheeks as you noticed more of his chest than usual, considering his jacket normally covered what his shirt clearly didn't. "(Y/N)?" Reno spoke again playfully, letting your name roll off his tongue... it was euphoric.
"S-sorry. Yeah," you nodded, shaking away your dirty thoughts. You took your suit jacket off and threw it on top of Reno's. You became flush when you laid eyes on the small pile of clothes. You wish they were scattered on your apartment floor... or at least somewhere more... appropriate. You cuffed your sleeves while your mind wandered. "This is stupid," you said, dunking your arm in the soapy bucket and then splashing the rag onto the hood of the car.
"I don't mind," Reno shrugged. "I like cleaning cars," you smiled softly at his statement. Reno was a gear head, and he took care of his nice fancy cars like they were his babies. Of course, he'd like this. "Besides, I'm with you, so." Reno shrugged, thinking that flirtatious comment was gonna fly over your head. You blushed and ducked to the other side of the car so he couldn't see your beet red face.
"Y-yeah." You stuttered, your hot breath almost fogging up the glass of the car. "It's just- we have a job to do too," you continued, as if he was gonna let you be miserable for this entire ordeal.
"Whatever," he huffed. It was silent from then on. Both of you soaping up opposite sides of the car, not looking or speaking. You stood up from your kneeling position to walk over to the wash bucket and dunk your rag in again. Reno met you there and did the same. When he took his soapy arm out of the water, he splashed you with some soap foam.
"H-hey!" Your head snapped up, looking at his giddy expression. You smiled, rolling your eyes before smacking him in the side with your wet rag, turning the right side of his shirt see-through. You blushed as you heard his laugh, and you noticed the thin fabric sticking to his skin... *fuck... he's so toned* you thought. And shook your head as soon as his rag slapped you across your face.
"Oo- shit I'm sorry - are you ok?" Reno gasped as he pulled you close to him, inspecting your jaw. You chuckled and tightened your jaw, then hit him on the ass with your rag. "Hey! Cheater!" He shouted playfully as he chased you around the soapy car with the hose, your playful screams and laughter echoing off the hanger walls.
As the sun set over the airfield, the hose shooting rainbows into the sky as Reno continued to chase you, his hair shining like fire in the sun, and your shadows dancing on the walls, he turned around the car and snuck from behind you, his arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you against him and shoved the hose down your shirt. You screamed at the cold rush of water as he laughed in your ear while you squirmed against him. "R-Reno! It's cold! It's cold!" You screamed, laughing loudly. "Reno!!" You screamed again, pulling from his arms and turning to look at him. Both of your white shirts see-through, at this point, Reno was barely wearing the shirt since you could see his skin and his hard nipples through his shirt, reacting to the cold water that stunned his skin. And he could see your black lace bra through yours. Blush crept up to both your faces as you stared at each other in silence for a moment. The sun slowly sank down as you two just undressed each other with your eyes. His icy blue eyes stared at your bra... and your eyes scan his chest. *What are we doing?* You thought as you caught your breath. Both of you were panting heavily from your previous water sport. "We should -" you started. But before you could finish- Reno stepped towards you, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing you deeply. You gasped at his kiss, your heart pounding in your chest. He turned on his shoes and pushed you against the car that was dry with soap by now. You moaned as his tongue violated your mouth, his hands placed on the windows on either side of your head. Yours snaked up his body and pulled his wet collar closer to you. He pulled away, looking into your half lidded eyes. "Oh my god," you muttered breathlessly, Reno chuckled, biting his lip looking at you.
"Sorry- Your just so hot," Reno said, looking down, his arms still on either side of your head.
"I-im hot? Have you seen what you look like right now?" You blurted out, chuckling as Blush dusted his cheek. "I want to kiss you again" you mumbled looking into his beautiful eyes, Reno bit his lip again, as his lips moved closer to yours his hot breath blowing over your lips "please" you muttered, as your hand hooked behind his neck pulling him closer. "Please kiss me," you begged. He smirked at your request and brushed his lips over yours, causing you to shudder. "Reno, please," you begged again.
"God, you're so hot when you beg." Reno groaned in your ear and slammed his lips against you again, pressing his body into yours, leaving you pinned against the car. One hand lowers down to your hip, has he pulls your hips closer, and you grind your hips against his, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. "Mhm~, you're perfect," he mumbles again your ear as his lips trail down your head and to your throat, your head knocks back against the car as he sucks your throat and collarbone. Your moans ricochet off the hanger walls. "You're soaked. " he mutters pulling your shirt open to reveal your soaked bra, he pulls the cup down freeing your brest as his tounge swirls around the hardened bud, you moan pressing your chest into his mouth as he chuckles darkly "I can't resist you, (Y/N)" he says quietly your eyes open slightly as you see him kissing your neck, thankfully his body is obscuring your naked tits, but there's still a camera behind him.
"R-Reno," you moaned. "There's a camera," you moan again. He scoffs and pulls your body close to him. Then, open the back door of the car and push you in so you're lying across the back seat.
"Better?" He asks as he takes his shirt off and throws it out of the car, letting a loud SLAP sound as the soaked shirt lands on the concrete floor. "Let's see if your as wet as your clothes" he mutters kissing down your body, he gets on his knees and pulls you down by your hips, then he pushes your skirt up over your hips and moves your panties to the side as his tounge swipes up your folds causing you to shiver against him. He smirks against your thigh as he sucks a hickey into the soft skin. You grip his firey red hair as he eats you out. Like he's starving. You moan as his tounge swirls around your clit and in and out of your entrance. He gets up, watching you panting and staring at him, a little disappointed at the abrupt stop. "Do you wanna look at me when I fuck you?" Reno asked as he pulled his belt off and let his pants slide down around his knees. "Or do you want me to fuck you from behind?" He asks as he lazily pumps his cock a few times.
"I-i wanna look at you" you mutter watching his cock Bob as he let's go of it.
"Mm~ I like that" he groans as he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance, he swallows, as he slowly pushes himself all the way in as you gasp at his presence. "so tight" he says under his breath. "How are you feeling?" He asked, his eyes panning up to you.
"F-fine," you squeak out as his sharp blue eyes cut into your soul. Your stomach in knots at the pleasure. He smirks and nods his head in response and begins to thrust into you, slowly rocking the car back and forth. As he thrusts your back arches, moaning loudly, you can hear your moans echo throughout the hanger. He grunts and lowers himself down to suck your nipple. You catch the reflection of his ass in the window of the car and blush, knowing full well. Shinra security can see exactly what is happening here. You moan as he thrusts and swirls his tongue around both your nipples. And the fact that you're gonna get an earful about this tomorrow just makes the whole thing so much hotter.
"Fuck (Y/N) I'm gonna cum" he mutters like it's a Bad Thing. You tighten around his cock making him unravel faster than he even wanted too "shit- I've wanted this for so long, now I'm gonna tap out early" he says breathily... your nails dig into his biceps as he slams into you, causing you to moan.
"Fuck Reno~" you pant looking into his eyes... you can feel your orgasm approaching as his cock throbs inside of you.
"Ugh~ Oh god!" He moans as his hips rock against yours spilling hot cum inside of you, you moan out as hid thrusts bring you to your orgasm cum spilling on his cock. "Shit" Reno says while catching his breath.
"This is a mess," you say, panting heavily.
"It's about to be a bigger one once I pull out" Reno winks chucking darkly.
"So dont" you say smirking slightly. He looks at your features as a smirk tugs at his lips and he kisses you deeply.
"Mm~ that's not a bad idea"
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letaliabane · 2 years
Text
Quiet Love
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Ser Harwin Strong x reader
genre: very romantic, fluffy, yearning, I mean i squealed while writing it so must be exciting
a/n: Harwin Strong has taken all my attention, not only because its Ryan Corr my childhood crush, also because we got so little of such an eye capturing performance! I have no idea where this came from but I think we all deserve some loving don’t you? Enjoy!
Your heels clicked against the pavement as you took a leisurely stroll through the beautiful gardens of Kings Landing, members of the court addressing you with a nod while servants bowed as you passed. 
You were a Targaryen, first daughter of King Viserys and Aemma. Yet it felt like you were second to everything these days since your Mother and baby brother's passing. With your sister Rhaenyra being announced as the heir to the throne and hostilities within court growing worse by the day, it wasn't difficult as to why. 
You were extremely proud and happy for your younger sister, she was truly a force to be reckoned with and meant to rule. But without her and your father, it had become increasingly lonely within the walls you called home.
You missed the simpler times; you and and your father horse riding alongside each other breaking out into laughter as it became a race, Rhaenyra dragging you to the library where she would lay and listen to your voice as you read to her. All of it seemed nothing but a distant memory.
You didn't have many friends apart from a few of the servants. Those who did try to gain your favour at court you came to realise was for their own personal gain, to get closer to your sister or father. And that hurt more than anything. Which is why you denied any affection given to you by any suitor. 
However, you always seemed to feel like someone was watching you. When you sat within the council, dancing at one of the many events, even now as you walked through the rows of blooming rose bushes. 
In the corner of your eyes, the flash of sunlight against armour caught your attention, a silhouette with a mane of wild curls stood at the entrance of the maze.
Ser Harwin Strong, you recognised. Captain of the City Watch and your personal guard. His features rugged, handsome you dare say, like he had been ripped straight out of one of the great paintings that hung within the castle walls. 
He was a man men and women fawned over at dances and the hunts, hoping to gain his favour. And yet his attention seemed drawn only to you. But that was because he was there to protect you, nothing more. Yet it still warmed the depths of your belly that he kept an ever watchful eye over you. 
You paused mid step, anxiety gripping you, screaming at you to continue onwards. But you changed trajectory, walking towards the maze and marched right towards him. A gentle smile overtook his features you noticed as you grew closer, greeting you with a bow of his head. 
‘Morning Princess.’
‘Good morning Ser Harwin! I hope you are faring well this morning?’ 
‘Besides training the new blood who seem worse than the last batch, I am my lady, thank you.’ 
You chuckled softly, nodding towards the maze. ‘I was wondering if you would take a walk with me? Seems like a good day for it.’ 
Harwin couldn’t help but smile briefly before allowing you to walk onwards first, following close at your side. The pavement changed to pebbles, the sound resonating in the silence that lay between the two of you. 
‘And you, my lady?’ 
You looked to him as the deep rumble of his voice caught your attention, dazed by his brilliant brown eyes, almost amber in the sunlight. ‘I’m sorry?’
He chuckled, armour clinking as he ducked his head before looking towards you. ‘How are you? It’s only courteous of me to ask in return for your kindness.’ 
There were so many things you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him everything and yet nothing all at once. The lump in your throat grew, and yet the words left quicker than you expected. 
‘I won’t lie Ser Harwin I feel I'm at a standstill. People seem to be moving in and out of my life sooner than I’d like. I feel the role of a spinster will do me well better than a princess with the way I’m going.’ 
Harwin’s brow furrowed, faltering ever so slightly in his step. ‘You don’t mean that.’ 
‘But I do!’ You started, jumping at the sound of your own voice raising, glancing towards the knight who remained unchanged, however halting in his place. ‘‘I-I’m sorry I didn’t-’
‘Do not apologise,’ He said as he stepped closer, but he kept his distance. He didn’t want to overwhelm you. ‘What truly troubles you my lady?’ 
You wanted to weep. No one had ever asked how you felt. 
‘As feeble as it may sound I’m afraid of being left behind. My sister, heavy is her head that will wear the crown, is blessed and loved by all, but busy with the duties of being a leader. My father is enraptured by his newfound family while I’m left to the wolves to fend for myself. Every person at court comes to my side with wishes and hopes, for my love and attention, only to want to gain favour with my family, not me! And it hurts it-’
The words died on your lips, taking in the worry that was etched upon Harwin’s face. He pitied you, like everyone else he probably did. 
‘I’ve spoken out of turn,’ You muttered as if you hadn’t been on the verge of crying almost moments ago. All emotion had left your voice, you wouldn’t show weakness, you couldn’t. ‘You must be sick of having to watch over me.’ 
‘Princess-’
'I'm sure Rhaenyra would be happy to have you as her personal guard-'
'I did not ask for her, Y/N. I asked to protect you,' He said. You froze, mouth seamlessly moving without making a sound. Though his tone had been firm, his eyes spoke only gentle reassurance. The way your name slipped from his lips sent chills down your spine. 
‘Wh-What did you say?’
Harwin sighed, his heart pounding against his chest. ‘When I was given the honour of Captain of the Watch, I asked-no, requested that I was put to your side.’
‘But why-’ 
‘You must know there is something there between us, do you not princess?’
You knew what he was talking about. 
Longing looks you both exchanged from across the room, the way he watched you as you danced with other men, while you watched him mingle with the ladies of the court. Brief touches of his hand against yours when he passed by or on the small of your back as he led you through the castle. 
There was a fire between the two of you, and it grew every more fierce as the days passed. And you couldn’t help but deny it. 
‘No I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ 
Harwin stepped forward and you couldn't help but stray away, only to find your back pressed against the hedge. His hand found purchase firmly on your hip, the weight and heat almost soothing, thumb stroking gently against the fabric of your dress. Your eyes looked anywhere but his, breathing deeply, the scent of pine wood invaded your senses. 
You gasped as his fingertips slipped between yours, his palm engulfing yours as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He ducked his head, looking into your eyes. 
‘I care for you Y/N. I know it may not be correct to say it but I will not deny it. And I know that you feel the same way.’
No he couldn’t. Ser Harwin Strong could never be in love with you. Maybe an infatuation but no, not love. 
Hearing the crunch of pebbles beneath boot, you glanced back towards Harwin now watching as you walked away, his golden cape billowing in the wind. And as he stood there, he promised himself he would make sure you knew how loved your were. 
You pulled away, shaking your head as your chest heaved. As you dashed through the garden you couldn’t help but glance around. There were eyes everywhere, one could never be too careful. 
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Part Two
a/n: let me know if you want another part to this story! Some spicy smut coming very soon in a separate story as well so stay tuned! 
tagged (if your tag isn't working DM me and we'll try and fix it up!): @thesithdiaries​ @dazecrea @ppeuppeuppeu @a-sunflower-in-bloom @siren-of-the-deep-sea @ccallistata @agoldin @vivilingme-blog @my-dark-prince @derzauberermitlilabademantel @blooomsstuff @starxdame @alexslittlegirl  @budugu @piper570 @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @words-way-of-life ​ @rosemalachi @m1tzifa1ry @gibbsgirl7 @b0xfullofdarkness
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windsweptinred · 1 year
Text
Sir Robert Gadling, Champion of Earth
It was a rare thing, for someone of his somewhat, irregular age bracket to experience what could truly be defined as a new sight.
But Dream of the Endless, sprawled belly down on the grassy land that lay between the New Inn and the river bank. Dark coat, draped about him like great, dark moth wings. Ear to the earth, cheek settled gently against buttercups and dandelion clocks. Smiling serenely to himself. That was definitely a first.
Leaving the door to the pubs main entrance ajar and depositing the outdoor menu board on route. Hob sauntered over to the prostrate Endless, bending low at the waist to meet two blue eyes. Peaking out from behind a rather monstrous sprout of daisies.
"Taking a nap in the sun, Duck?"
Dream regarded him momentarily before rolling onto his back. His ebony mane a wash with errant leaves and wild flower petals.
"I was listening."
Kneeling at his side, Hob swept a stray dandelion seed from his cheek, smiling indulgently.
"Ah, communing with nature is it?"
Recieving nought but a small, mischievous smirk in answer, he huffed a laugh. Flopping down onto the grass to mirror his partner.
"Alright, keep your secrets. You great, silly creature."
Turing on his side, head rested on his palm, he reached out, idly stroking the under side of Dream's chin. Watching his lover extend the pale collum of his neck in pleasure. Feeling a purr of gratification rumble down the lithe body. Great creature indeed.
"Since you're here, I've been thinking. About what we talked about when we last met. About some humans, being... What was the word you used? Marked? Yes, marked for an specific Endless. Well, if I'm Death's because of... Well you know. Or Desire's or whoever. I wonder if they'd be up for swapsies? I'm not much of a wordsmith, I know. But if there's any cosmic entity I have to swear my allegiance to, I'd want no other monarch then you love."
Dream regarded him silently for a moment, before capturing his free hand, pressing a reverent kiss to the mount of venus.
" You are not, nor shall ever be bound to either myself, nor any of my siblings. Though you have thrived uncommonly in each of our realms. You owe fealty to a much kinder sovereign. "
Hob balked at that.
"Who, God? Because quite frankly no thank you! The few centuries worth of confesssional catch up alone is horrifying to consider!"
Stars flared in his companion eyes as he graced him with an amused look.
"They do indeed have their chosen. Those saints and prophets who serve them in life and are called in death to the Heavens. But no... "
Dream took his hand, placing it lightly upon the ground, so to not crush the shards of grass beneath. Then, placed his own atop, entwining their fingers, pushing their nails and fingertips slightly into the soil below.
"She who has laid claim to you, sits here, beside you, beneath and above you. There are few beings who have walked her lands as long as you, and have resisted the lure of the occult. You remain as human, as earth born as when your lady mother bore you. And you are loved for it. Robert Gadling, meet she who has been called Tonantzin, Hou Tu, Bhuma. Third child of Via Lactea. By the ancient lore of these lands, she is Danu. But perhaps you would recognise her as Gaea or Terra. The Great Lady Mother Earth."
He felt it then, the ground around him, bracketing his body, as if being craddelled protectively in the palm of a hand. The pulsing in the sway of the blooms, in each ripple of the river. Like breathing or the drum of ancient heartbreat. The knowledge of a mother's eyes upon you while you play. The assurance of her protective gaze.
"She has kept you sheltered under her branches when you lacked hearth and home. She has granted you food and water when human hands denied you them. She has kept the water below you calm and the soil underfoot steady. Even now, she keeps my younger siblings from nipping at your heals. In return you have asked for no more from her then what was needed. And conitue to honour and protect her. You have earned her favour above 8 billion of your brothers and sisters Sir Gadling. Not a meger feat."
Humbled by the magnitude of it, Hob lowered his forhead to the ground. His temple brushed the fine root of ancient tree that grew within the grounds. Like a supplicant, he thought. At his he's queen's feet.
" At your service, my lady."
A gentle breath of air blew down upon him, like a whispered blessing. In the distance, he vaguely could make out the water of the river, churning in joyus waves upon the bank.
Beside him, Dream gracefully rose to his knees. An evident expression of pride in his gaze as he regarded Hob.
"I will leave you to get better acquainted."
Leaning forward, he placed a tender kiss into Hob's hair.
"Farewell my Heart."
Angling his head, Hob dove forward, capturing a tender, shared kiss. Nuzzling their noses together playfully.
"Goodbye Dove"
At that, his lover rose to his feet, Righting his coat with a dramatic flared sweep.
"My Lady" He swept into a courtly bow, directed at a clump of dock leaves. "I thank you for you continued care of my most beloved. May you have sweet dreams of Sols warm rays."
At his feet, plumes of wild poppies of red, orange and yellow blossomed, earning a rare, glowing smile from the Master of the Dreaming. With a final nod to Hob, Dream turned and took his leave.
Watching his lover deapart, Hob crawled, quietly forward , whispering conspiratorially into the head of a fox glove.
"If I may ask a humble boon? Watch over him too, when you are able."
As Dream passed by the tree, a low hanging branch, unfurled, reaching out. Folliage sweeping his cheek in a tender caress, which he instinctively leaned into. Hob wondered when, if ever Dream of the Endless had known a maternal embrace. To his right, a tree root flexed and groaned, causing the ivy vines coiled about it to violently twang with a rip cord snap.
"Not a fan of them either ey? " He patted the ground beside him. "Well, he's got us now."
Flopping once more onto his back, head cushions by arms. Hob Gadling smirked daringly at the clouds above.
"So, which climate destroying, corporate dragon would you like me to slay first My Lady? My sword is yours."
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Are there any toys particularly talented at doing farm tasks?
Picky Piggy is the best farmer in the family, being rivaled only by Angel themself! But here's a more in-depth look:
Poppy herself is too small for any manual task, and this is something that really bothers her. She does help in cleaning up the harvested crops, but the biggest help she can give is just with figuring out when the crops will be ready for harvest.
Huggy, bless his heart, is always trying to help. Angel taught him how to properly take care of each crop, so he's always trying to help Picky. The mini huggies follow him like he's a mother duck but aren't of much help besides looking cute.
Kissy likes taking care of the animals. She's very delicate and gentle with all of them.
Dogday is a shepherd, and can and has spent whole days just out there with the sheep. They LOVE him.
Catnap is also a shepherd and is a biiiit jealous that the sheep love Dogday so much, but he's also the farm's guard, warding off wild animals and intruders. Many reckless teens have faced his wrath (read: have either been carried out of the farm like how cats carry kittens or ran away), as well as more adults than he can count.
Kickin helps with taking care of the crops, and the chickens love him. He jokes about this fact a lot.
Bobby loves planting flowers, so she takes care of the "garden" areas... And the bees. Her favorite insect by a mile, she's an excellent beekeeper!
Crafty helps with the crops, even if she's not as good as Delight, Angel or Picky. She's insecure about this, because even with her shy and more secluded nature, she knows she isn't as good with the animals as Kissy or Dogday as well. It takes her a while until she figures out she can fix things around the farm!
Hoppy has a lot of upper body strenght, so she helps the girls with carrying things around, Catnap with warding off wild animals away, and Dogday and Kissy with the farm animals. She's always ready to lend a hand and can often spend her days being someone's assistant. Just DON'T ask her to be a beekeper, she can do everything around the farm EXCEPT beekeep.
Delight and Bubba often checks the health of the crops and helps with taking care of the insects, being an inseparable duo. Delight also takes care of the animals and the crops, being Picky's companion. Bubba doesn't do much physical work, opting to mainly fix whatever breaks down.
Mommy Long Legs is also always there with Picky! She loves getting her hands dirty (literally), and Bunzo follows her, being her and Angel's "little assistant". Bunzo has no idea what he's doing half the time but he has the spirit.
PJ's job is to run around (shepherd as well, he likes helping Dogday).
Boxy Boo is also a very good assistant to Picky and Angel, but he's more fit to carry heavy things around.
The mini smiling critters and other small toys all have their own ways of helping with the farm and housework!
Prototype/Elliot prefers to fix things around and be a second guard for when Catnap needs a rest. Bobby gave him a medal for all the accidents he prevented from happening by stopping a toy or Angel from doing something stupid or reckless.
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mad-maximoff · 6 months
Text
𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐞
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Summary: Don't call her babe, under no circumstances.
Warnings: Language, light bondage, gentle dom, soft choking, fingering, edging, denial, oral
Word Count: 1,949
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"Who...in the fuck are you?" The statuesque blonde cocked her head violently around her shoulder. Her heavy silver chain hit her collarbone.
"My name's Mazzy. I'm from the resistance. You need to come with me now Barb." A much shorter woman came before the blonde whisking her hand as she led into a cellar door. Down a spiral metal staircase. "The resistance! I thought they were meeting me at the airport?!" Barb grew skeptical following the brunette. Mazzy's hair was shaved bald on either side of her skull in a short mohawk. Every orifice of her body was either covered in tattoos and piercings.
"Pfft! I thought so too. Supposedly the airport had bomb threats so it wasn't safe to fly you out. We have to take the subway." The stairs ended against a brick wall with a crater blown in the middle. "Duck!" Mazzy's hand laid on Barb's head to push her through the brick. "Watch the hair kid!" She brushed Mazzy's hand away adjusting the wild curls. "Fine, fine. We're in the last free city and you're worrying about your hair? Haha!" Mazzy brushed it off not wanting to start anything quite yet. She looked up to Barb Wire. All of the young freedom fighters did. After she took down the Congressional Council and killed Colonel Victor Pryzer she became a hero. Perhaps after this, the whole world will be free.
"I'm a hit woman with a specific look honey, I need to look the part." Her heeled boots ticked along the subway tiles. The subway system shut down years ago, so the last of the Congressional Council wouldn't find them. "Well, your hit woman days are over babe." Mazzy joked as her hips swayed along to the noise of the only subway growing to a halt.
"What did you call me?" Barb stopped behind Mazzy. She hated that sentiment. To be called 'babe' was her most hated. Barb's demeanour turned from confused to pissed in a matter of seconds. The subway cart finally drew to a complete stop opening the doors. "All I said was you being a mercenary and a bounty hunter was over." Mazzy threw herself down on a seat. Barb followed behind arms crossed over her the breast of her leather jacket. "No. The other part." Barb's leather boot tapped the subway cart floor, as the doors closed, Barb and Mazzy were the only ones in the cart. The lights began to flicker.
"What?... What the hell are you going on about?" Mazzy huffed as she slouched her back lower in her seat, widening her legs so her boots lay flat on the floor.
Barb Wire was feared by everyone, especially men who did not pay their debts. It was most often messy when she'd drag their asses back to pay their debts. Usually kicking and screaming. Her boots scraped along leaning in front of Mazzy. Her hands gripped the seat behind Mazzy as her body moved more towards her. "No one calls me Babe. You're going to have to pay for that Maz." Barb growled flipping her platinum hair behind her shoulder.
"Huh? Don't get your panties in a twist, I didn't mean anything by it. What're you gonna do? Shoot me?" Mazzy chuckled brushing off Barb's stern tone. Barb removed her hands from the backrest of Mazzy's chair as she tore open her leather jacket revealing her leather bodysuit. "Do you see a gun? I have no more ammo, besides, I wouldn't waste my good bullets on you." Barb bent down this time flicking a few strands of Mazzy's hair from her face. "You need to be taught some manners." Her boot planted beside Mazzy's body to have more leverage.
"Really now? You teach me what? To tie a corset? On the subway really?" Mazzy scoffed brushing this whole thing off. Mazzy thought Barb Wire was just playing her bluff. Knowing her reputation Barb was a very sarcastic person. The lights flickered again leaving them both in the dark for a moment. The lights came on only to see Barb untying the front of the corset with the string in hand. "On the contrary. Babe. You need to learn how to treat your leaders with respect." Barb's hands spun around Mazzys' arms tying her arms behind her back with the string. "What the hell-..."
"Shut up. You talk too much for your own good." Barb's hand laid around Mazzy's throat not moving a single finger. "And I'm going to make sure you learn a lesson." The lights in the subway cart went out again leaving them both in the dark again. Mazzy tried to free herself thinking Barb was not aware. Barb's boot scuffed against Mazzy's soot-covered blue wash jeans. Barb's body leaped onto Mazzy's lap. "Where the hell are you going?" The cart, still dark with the only light coming from the tunnel lights. Barb's hand tilted on Mazzy's neck back. As Barb straightened her back, her leather top dropped to the floor. "The fun is just starting baby." Her bouncy hair covered Mazzy's vision. Her buxom glossy red lips smacked together before landing on top of Mazzy's much smaller lips. They broke for air, Mazzy realizing her cracked lips were coated in Barb's lipstick. Maz saw before her the leader of their resistance straddling her tied-up body. Barb grinned smearing the lipstick all over Maz's face. "There. That'll shut you up." Barb lowered her hand to untie the string of her leather thong. The thong dropped to her knees only sporting fishnets. She stood up kicking the leather thong off, while her hand latched on Maz's shoulder tumbling her down on the seat. Barb unbuckled Maz's belt as she whipped it out of the belt holes. "You don't need this right? Guess not." She hummed as her body crawled on top of Mazzy.
"A?...what? This is your interpretation of a lesson? A sexy strip tease?" Maz joked with little to no confidence. The fear pondered in her brain, what happened to the last person who called her babe? Mazzy stirred under the pressure of Barb's weight, while the seam of her denim jeans loosened around her waist. "You don't know how to shut up, do you? In that case, let me make you scream." Barb's hand crept under Mazzy's jeans to the plain cotton underwear under her denim. Barb's fingers swept down Maz's pubic bone when her finger finally found what she was looking for. In truth, Barb did not want to hurt Mazzy, after, they only just met a brief moment ago. Yes, she was pissed for Maz's remark but she didn't want to do major harm. She thought since they were going to be here a while, and she'd be alone on a plane to Canada when they arrived, perhaps she'd make a little fun out of it. A victory she'd call it.
Mazzy was all out of sorts. She felt drunk even though she didn't drink a drop. A daze; perhaps she hit her head on the way down. Her emotions were out of wack as well. Fear, confusion, even lust. She would never admit she was horny as hell. Yes, Barb Wire is an attractive woman. Especially a gorgeous blondes hovering over her the likes of the infamous Barb Wire.
Her index hovered finally in contact with Mazzy's pulsating clit. Maz's body jumped under Barb's with a muffled noise. "Awe aren't you cute, whining like a little puppy? Come on puppy, let me hear you." Barb switched holding herself up to lay her hand across Mazzy's throat. Her digits curled around Maz's skin piercing sharply. Barb's middle finger crept lower to her center diving deeply into Maz's slickly coaxed fold. Mazzy's stifled noises echoed through the subway cart erupting more loud than metal hitting the rails. Maz's moans were jagged under the blonde. Barb's grip around Mazzy's throat tightened. Not in a hurtful sense, in a sense in which Mazzy feels the most pleasure possible. She had no reason to kill or hurt Mazzy. No personal or finacial gain. Just a thrill.
"Oh-..." Maz's head was spinning. Either from the subway moving or Barb's grip. As Barb began to thrust her middle finger her thumb drifted over the brunette's clit. Barb, smiling ear to ear, bent her head locking her lips to Mazzy's. Her grip still slightly loosened. All of Barb's signature red lipstick smeared across Mazzy's lips. Her tongue locked with Mazzy's briefly without any hesitation to continue the long and rather sloppy mess they both were in. Barb's lips let go raising her head. "Fuck...you keep doing that and I might bring you with me." Her finger twitched inside Mazzy as her thumb circled her erect clit like it was a tiny button. Maz felt the instant feeling that was coming. She was. The feeling was like a rollercoaster. Making it up to the top to climax to crash down on her high. The hot bliss of Maz's core palpitated as it tightened around Barb's finger. She slipped her finger out to peer down at Mazzy's trembling body.
"P-please...Barb!" Mazzy cried out. "K-keep going..." She sighed out in the sense her high was wearing thin. "I think you enjoyed that too much." Her grip around Maz's throat disappeared trailing down her top to the hem of jeans. Both of her hands hooked on either side pulling the denim down past her ankles, over her chunky boots. "I definitely did. Though," Barb threw her platinum blonde up off her shoulders. Her body cascaded lower past Mazzy's knees. Cracking them wide open. "I know you'll enjoy this more." Maz panted, basic whines escaped her lips not fully knowing what would happen next. She had a grasp of what was going on, nothing could ever prepare her. Barb's head ducked into Maz's thighs. Maz's arms have already fallen asleep behind her back from all of her weight. Mazzy bucked once she felt the faint glide of Barb's tongue over her most sensitive area. Her nails dug into Maz's soft thighs.
"Oh god...B-Bar-" Her moan cut through the air louder than all of the others combined. "You're such a good girl." Barb hummed fluttering her tongue deeply into Maz's drenched pussy. The noises of moans and wet sloshes howled through the subway cart. Who knew two women alone could conjure such a racket. Barb's tongue flicked Maz's clit with her body tensing up. Mazzy tried to silence her moans but every breath she took in her moans grew more garish. "Who's my good girl? Huh? Is it you?"
"Y-yes!"
"Yes, what?"
"I-I'm you're good girl!" Maz spat out tilting her head back on the seat. It stirred back up inside Mazzy's being. The feeling of the rollercoaster. Climbing up to the top. Come crashing down. "Oh god!" She cried tensing every muscle in her back. Barb's nails punctured further into Maz's skin as Maz's moans vibrated the subway cart. Barb perked her bead up crawling back up to greet Mazzy's stained face.
"Haha! Now wasn't that fun?" Barb brushed away tiny strands of hair that sat on Maz's forehead, planting a small kiss in the same area. Mazzy was lost for words, she nodded not finding her voice quite yet.
The subway lights flicked back on to their orangish yellow hue. Barb loosened the strings off Mazzy's arms, reupholstering the string to her corset and thong. "Huh maybe you should join me on that plane-..." Barb's word was cut short as the cart came to a halt. The doors swing open to be greeted by a whole fire squad of the Congressional Council awaiting for us.
"Well fuck...this will be fun."
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adrift-in-thyme · 5 months
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@skyward-floored remember that anon asking about a birthday fic yesterday? That was me :D
I wrote you a little something to celebrate your special day! I hope you like it!
Happy Birthday!! 🎈🎉
Ao3 link
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Normally, Warriors would leave a guy to think. After all, he knows better than anyone the way working in a group can become a bit…suffocating. Being constantly surrounded by people will grow inevitably exhausting. It’s only right for one to go off on their own, seeking out some blessed solitude.
So, normally, if he had come across a certain hero sitting beside a quaint little stream, he would leave him to his duck watching and his thoughts and collapse onto his bedroll. But he has just come upon a certain hero sitting by a quaint little stream and he looks so absolutely pitiful that Warriors swears that he’s impersonating a kicked puppy.
And he can’t just leave him there, all sad and hunched over and shivery.
(Time and Arty are right, he guesses, he’s a hopeless softy.)
So, he sets aside his dreams of turning in early and starts toward him.
“Rupee for your thoughts, rancher?” He calls once he is within hearing distance.
Twilight startles and turns, blinking rapidly as though that will free him from his daze. Warriors keeps an easy grin on his face as his eyes roam the hero, cataloging what he sees.
Flushed cheeks, a light sheen of sweat on the brow, tremors running through the body, a glazed look in the eyes…and now a painfully hoarse voice as the rancher croaks his name in greeting. The captain suppresses a sigh. There can’t be any doubt about it, the rancher is sick.
He should’ve seen that coming — honestly, he had, though he’d shoved the suspicion back behind countless other strategies and worries and tasks. But he knows he isn’t the only one who picked up on Twilight’s less than perky attitude these past days. He had lagged behind the rest of the group, opting to plod along beside Sky instead of his usual place by Wild’s side. And that alone had arisen Warriors’ suspicions.
But he doesn’t comment about all that just yet. Even when Twilight turns away from him to cough harshly into his elbow. Wordlessly, he settles down beside him.
“You alright, Twi?”
He sets a steadying hand on his back as the coughs subside. Twilight takes a minute to catch his breath, his shudders growing more violent. But the glare he dredges up is no less severe than his usual.
“I’m not sick if-if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Warriors chuckles. “Well, now I’m thinking maybe you are. Because I alluded to no such thing.”
Twilight hums, looking completely unconvinced. Warriors doesn’t miss the way he leans into his touch, however, or the way his next exhale trembles. And he certainly can’t ignore it when, surreptitiously, he moves closer.
“I should’ve brought a blanket,” Warriors comments, mildly, when a few quiet moments have slid by. “You seem a bit cold. Too bad I left my scarf back at the camp.”
Twilight huffs a sigh. It quickly turns into another explosion of coughs.
“You should be back at the camp,” he grumbles, when he can once again drag in air, “not hanging around me. You’re gonna catch somethin’.”
A smirk lifts Warriors’ lips. “Ah, but I could’ve sworn that I just heard you claim that you weren’t sick.”
He senses more than sees Twilight’s eyes go wide. Then, the rancher lets out an annoyed groan.
“I swear y-you’re as bad as the old man.”
“Oh no, I can be worse.”
Another series of shiver races through him and Twilight ends up slumped against Warriors’ left side, teeth chattering audibly.
“S-somehow…I can believe that.”
Warriors chuckles. Carefully, he slides an arm around Twilight, holding him close. The hero practically melts into him.
“It’s a beautiful night at least,” the captain murmurs, gazing up above them.
The sky glows with the beginnings of twilight. Orange and purple and pink travel in streaks of dazzling fire across a canvas of deep blue. Upon the water, the display wavers, like paints just barely mixed upon a palette.
The air is temperate too, a warm breeze blowing through like a caress. He can’t help but be thankful for it. He’s almost certain that they all have had to endure sickness in a less than forgiving climate. In such circumstances, things seldom go well.
(He can’t help but think of Mask’s tale, told haltingly late at night after a dreadful nightmare. A tale of climbing a mountain with frostbitten feet and fingers and collapsing shivering and feverish at the door of a blacksmith’s hut.)
“Captain,” Twilight pipes up beside him, the word sounding positively painful, “do…do you ever feel a certain sadness at this time of day?”
Warriors hums, dragging himself from his thoughts. Something about that sentence sparks a memory within him, of a princess of twilight with the body of an imp and a heart of gold kept carefully concealed.
“I suppose so. Why?”
Twilight is smiling slightly when he looks at him, and there is sorrow in the expression.
“There’s another realm out there…”
“The Twilight realm.”
Twilight starts up, feverish gaze landing on Warriors. The captain laughs.
“Yes, I know of it. I knew it’s princess, as a matter of fact. We fought together during the war.”
Suddenly, Twilight looks more alert than he has all night. But then he shudders again and nearly loses his balance. Warriors pulls him close again, wrapping him in a half-hug.
“Midna? Y-you knew Midna?”
“I did.” The captain smiles, fondly. “She was a ferocious fighter…and a good friend. Though” — A teasing grin lifts his lips as he looks down at his brother “ — I always wondered why she chose to ride a wolf of all things into battle.
“But it makes a little more sense now.”
Even through his pallor, he can see Twilight’s cheeks flush. His face is a hurricane of emotion that Warriors feels he has little right to see. So, he turns back to the pond and watches as twilight overtakes the light of day.
“Did-did she mention me at all?” Twilight murmurs, finally.
Warriors cocks his head, weighing which words are best.
“No — not to me at least. But I think Midna was one who liked to keep things close to the vest. I think the wolf she rode was her way of…saying that she missed you.”
Twilight is silent for a few moments. Quiet reigns over the small clearing, save for the sounds of the rancher’s slightly congested breathing.
He should get him back to camp, Warriors thinks, get him some warm blankets and a potion and maybe some of Wild’s soup. But Twilight speaks up before he can voice any of those thoughts.
“I’m glad you got to meet her.” There is a tremulous smile in those words, a strength that the rancher always possesses, even when his energy is drained. “She…she was really somethin’ else.”
“Indeed she was.”
Twilight moves closer, resting his head on Warriors’ shoulder, and Warriors can’t help but feel that some unseen boundary has been broken from between them. Perhaps, this secret had weighed more heavily on the rancher than he had thought.
Well, that and the uncertainty of the princess’ feelings for him. That shattered mirror Twilight had spoken of hadn’t been the only thing broken.
“You know,” he says, as Twilight’s eyelids begin to droop, “next time you’re sick and missing your girlfriend, maybe just talk to someone instead of sitting out here all miserable and alone. I know a certain someone would call you an idiot for doing so.”
Twilight chuckles.
“She would, wouldn’t she?” He chokes out between hacking coughs. “She never held back.”
“No, she really didn’t.”
Warriors holds his trembling shoulders until the coughs are gone again. Then, he pats his shoulder.
“Alright, rancher, let’s get you back. You need your rest.”
Reluctantly, Twilight allows the captain to help him to his feet. He leans heavily against him, exhaustion dragging at his feet. And as the first star blinks itself awake, Warriors turns them toward the warmth of the campfire and their brothers’ company.
The shadows themselves seem to gather in their wake, a protection and an embrace.
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wrestlingwithlife · 1 year
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Where The Wild Things Are
Most people preferred buying a horse at a nearby stable, or even stealing one that was already owned; However, you are not most people.
Arthur Morgan x Male!Reader
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Two chunks of wood fell to the side as the brutal swing of an axe split them apart. The axe wielder let out a puff of air, sitting his axe down to wring out his sore arms.
His usual heavy brown coat had been discarded on the second day of their stay in Horseshoe Overlook, leaving him in his slightly unbuttoned blue button up. His sleeves rolled up to sit just below his elbows.
Arthur raised his hand up to tip his hat down a bit, blocking out the harsh sun.
“Arthur! Arthur, come here a minute would you?”
Said male looked to his right, seeing  Hosea waving him over from a nearby table. Arthur gladly dropped his axe and made his way over to the older male.
“What can a do for ya, old man?”
Hosea scoffed a bit at the nickname, pushing his cup of coffee further into the table before turning his body to fully face Arthur.
“I need you to do me a favor. You know how Y/n has been itching to go find himself a horse?”
Arthur perked up a bit at the name. Y/n had lost his last horse Colter around the same time Arthur had lost Boadicea, Arthur knew that the male had taken it just as hard, if not harder.
“Yeah I know. Might take him a minute though, you know how he can be with his pickings, gotta be wild enough for him.” Arthur chuckled a bit a the last part.
There was not a single horse Y/n had ever ridden or been around that did not love him. Even The Count seemed to trail him around camp like a little lost foal. Despite all that Y/n liked his horses wild, he liked them rough. Not a single horse Y/n ever rode could be ridden by anyone else, despite the many attempts that were made.
“Well he went out this morning on one of the cart horses. Didn’t even have a saddle or reins on it, just a rope. I figure he’s going to go bareback until he finds something he likes.” The silver haired male informed him, taking a sip of his coffee.
“What’s that got to do with me?”
Hosea rolled his eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me, Arthur. I can tell you two are sweet on each other. Besides, you know how I feel about him trying to break wild horses when he’s out on his own.”
Arthur’s ears burned a bit at being called out. He had thought him and Y/n had done a good job at keeping it on the low, but then again Hosea was an observer.
Hosea picked up the paper on the table he’d been reading, using it to swat Arthur away. “Now go on, he should be easy to find. Doubt he’s gone to far yet.”
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
Arthur rode along the trail that Y/n’s tracks had led to, eyes peeled as he watched for the male. Y/n’s tracks suddenly veered off the trail and Arthur followed them. It wasn’t long before the man found the cart horse grazing under a tree. The massive beast lifted his head, completely unbothered by his presence. The horse let out a whinny of greeting before ducking his head back down to continue eating.
Arthur slid down his own horses, patting her on the back as he looked around. The peace of the moment was suddenly broken by loud and wild laughter, Arthur recognized it immediately.
There was a sudden crashing sound in the bushes beside him and Arthur hardly had the chance to move before a massive mustang came charging from the bush, Y/n clinging onto his back with ease.
Arthur cursed at the sudden shock, dodging the wild horse again. “Jesus, Y/n!” Arthur shouted, moving a hand to adjust his hat.
There was a wild look in the horse’s eyes, but Y/n’s were even wilder. Arthur had never seen him smile so widely.
Arthur swore this went on for another thirty minutes before the horse seemed to accept the fact that Y/n wasn’t going anywhere. Y/n patted the horse on the neck, and Arthur had to admit, the mustang was gorgeous.
Y/n slid from the bay mustangs back, smiling at Arthur. “Ain’t he something?”
Arthur hummed. “He sure is.” Arthur’s eyes glinted from the stallion to Y/n. “Reminds of you already.”
Y/n rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips. The h/c haired male stroked the horse’s forehead.
“What are you going to call him?” Arthur questioned, coming up behind the other male. Y/n hummed in thought, eyes trailing down the mustang’s striped legs.
“I think I’ll call him Ferus.”
“Mmm, what’s it mean?” Arthur’s thick arm found its way around Y/n’s waist. Arthur went to stroke the horse’s nose, but he pulled his hand back when the stallion pinned his ears at him.
“It means ‘wild’.”
Arthur snorted. “How fitting.”
Y/n tossed his head back with a laugh. He slipped from Arthur’s hold and moved to Ferus’s side. “Come on, I need to get a saddle on this guy.”
Before Y/n could swing himself back up Arthur reached out, grabbing his belt loop and tugging him back. Arthur twisted Y/n in his hold, crashing their lips together.
Y/n’s noise of surprise was muffled by the kiss, Arthur’s hands squeezed his hips. Arthur broke the kiss, letting go of Y/n’s waist and making his way back to his mare. “Yeah, let’s head back.”
Y/n swallowed thickly, a hand on his horse to steady himself. Arthur pulled himself up easily, giving Y/n a teasing smile. “You coming?”
The h/c haired male’s trance was broken and he scrambled onto his mount, chasing after Arthur.
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Not really happy with this one but oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Author-Chan out ✌️
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friendship-ditch · 4 months
Text
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Wild girl - Part 2 (Ended)
(Katniss Everdeen x Fem Reader) ❀
Summary: After deciding to follow Katniss through the woods, she begrudgingly lets you tag along and reveals she’s not so cold after all.
Warnings: None! This is an interactive story—the poll at the bottom will be open for a week and will choose the direction of the next part! <3
Word Count: 1623
After a split moment of pondering, you went against your better judgment and followed Katniss through the woods. You weren’t as quiet as a mouse but she never looked back at you so you figured you were doing a good job.
The girl followed the trail of the deer through the woods, scaling small rocks and logs and ducking beneath low hanging branches with ease. Her bow was gripped tight in her hand and she was completely focused on her prey.
You followed her until she reached a small creek, bending down behind a bush and watching as she released the arrow.
You turned away for a split second, and when you looked back, the deer laid there, dead. Her arrow was precisely in its heart and the animal died without a second of suffering.
Katniss was one of the greatest hunters in District 12…
Speaking of Katniss, where did she go?
You stood up and looked around but there was no sight of her. You felt a frown creep onto your face. She would never abandon her game like that. What could’ve happened?
“You are following me.” A cool voice said from behind you. “What are you, some sort of stalker?”
A chin ran down your spine and you froze. You looked over your shoulder at her, eyes locking with hers.
“Yes, I knew you were there. You’re not that stealthy.” Katniss’s bow was hanging in her hand, the quiver of arrows strung to her back. There was a little blood on her hands from the deer and after the hunt she looked pretty intimidating. But there was nothing truly mean about her voice, it was more as if she was mocking you.
“I… wanted to see how you hunt.” You stammered. It wasn’t a complete lie, it was just the best excuse you could come up with to tell her and yourself.
“Yeah right.” She scoffed. “Did Gale put you up to this?”
“Gale?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know him.”
Of course you knew Gale, everybody did. He tried asking you out once back when you were about 11 and he was 12. You reluctantly agreed to go on a walk with him after school and he talked the whole time about how his name was in the reaping and gave you nightmares for a week.
“Yes, I know him but–”
“But what?”
“--he didn’t put me up to anything.”
“I think you’re lying.”
“I think you’re thinking way too hard.” You managed to get her with that one as she then looked at you with wide eyes.
When she managed to snap out of it, she furrowed her brow and snorted. She walked past you and back towards the deer. “Well, you better go home. I don’t want you here, and the deep woods are no place for a pretty girl like you.”
Pretty girl? So that’s how she was going to play.
You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself. It turns out Katniss did have more personality than a rock, and you wanted to draw it out. Sure, she was stark and a bit rude, but you could tell she was much more than that too.
“It’s a good thing I have a wild girl to protect me then.” You responded.
Your words could’ve cut the tension as if it was glass. Katniss stiffened and looked over at you.
“I hunt alone.” She seemed to realize she was letting her inner self show, and she wanted to sink back to being emotionless, if not cold. “I don’t need somebody slowing me down.”
“I’m not here to hunt. I’m here to keep you company.”
“I don’t need company.”
“Well, I do.”
“I don’t care.”
Katniss bent down beside her game and retrieved her arrow. She didn’t look back at you for a while, trying to ignore you out of existence.
When she finished, she picked the deer up. It was small enough for her to sling over her shoulder without much struggle, though she dropped her quiver in the process.
Your hands brushed when you held it back up to her.
Neither of you said anything.
Katniss took it with a scowl and then started walking away again, heading towards her snares to pick up the rest of today's catches. And you followed.
It started with a silence, as most one-sided friendships do, but eventually you felt comfortable enough to speak something rather than a two-worded question.
“Do you hunt everyday?” You asked, unhooking a hare from one of the snares. You’d been watching her long enough to figure out how to do it, and the surprise on her face from your competence was pretty rewarding.
Katniss eyed you with wary eyes as if you’d take the hare for yourself and scamper off into the woods with your stolen prey. “Most days.” She responded flatly, holding her hand out.
You placed the corpse into her hand and she gently stuffed it into her game bag, then kept walking.
“Do you always hunt with Gale?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you enjoy small talk?”
“Not at all.”
“Then tell me something about yourself so we can break this horribly awkward barrier.”
Katniss audibly groaned at your words. She climbed up a small hill and helped you up. The ground beneath you was dryer now and the trees were scarcer, you were nearing an overlook of the woods.
“I don’t like talking.” Katniss replied.
You laughed and took her calloused hand, pulling yourself up the terrain. “I already know that. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“I don’t like talking about myself.” Was her next response, but at your next head shake and persistent stare, she sighed and finally gave in. “I don’t know… ask me a question and I’ll answer.”
“What’s your favorite color?” You asked as the two of you reached the top of the hill and looked out through the clearing at the forest and mountains. It was beautiful. You probably would’ve spent more time staring out in awe if someone else hadn’t already occupied both your eyes and your attention.
“You’re crossing the line.” Katniss said as she sat down on a log. Her voice was serious but there was a teasing look in her eyes and you couldn’t help but laugh. She did too and then set the game bag down beside her, relieving the heavy load off her shoulders. “Green. What’s yours?”
“It changes every day.”
“How is that a valid answer?”
“It just is. I can’t pick.”
“You’re a jerk.” Katniss elbowed you gently as you sat beside her. “But now it’s my turn. How do you know Prim?”
“We usually trade at the Hob, herbs for cheese.”
“Your name is Y/n, right?” Her voice was a little quieter now as if she was embarrassed for not knowing who you were. “I remember you, but we never talked in school and I didn’t want to… call you the wrong name. Plus, Prim talks about you.”
You smiled a little. Primrose was your favorite part of the Hob and you always looked forward to seeing her. Also… Katniss remembered who you were? This could’ve been a dream.
“That’s sweet.” You responded, not exactly eluding as to what you were replying to. “I like talking to Prim.”
“She’s the best.” Katniss agreed, a strange relaxation set across her usually cold features. She stared out at the wilderness for a moment, and then turned to you. “Do you know much about herbs?”
“A little. I really just know what to collect and what sells the most.”
This made Katniss laugh. God, you wanted to hear her laugh again, see the corners of her lips turn upwards in amusement, see that once in a blue moon smile spread across her face.
The two of you spent a little while longer on top of the hill, chatting softly. Eventually Katniss called it quits and you returned back to the woods to head to the Hob and sell your collections. Katniss even helped you pick a few herbs, which you thought was pretty cute.
When you came upon the edge of the forest, you stopped and looked over at her. It was best the two of you split up here so as to not cause suspicions at the Hob of… whatever, at least that’s what Katniss said and you didn’t want to push your luck by arguing.
“Thank you for letting me tag along.” You said with a small smile. “I haven’t had a friend in a while.”
“Friend?” Katniss seemed unused to the term, though not opposed. The tiniest smile formed on her face and she nodded slowly. “Thanks for coming.”
That was all she said. She offered a soft, awkward wave and then left without looking back.
You stood and watched until she was far out of view, then you went home to drop a few things off. Most of the best buyers at the Hob would’ve left by now so you just decided to start dinner early with one of the pheasants she surprisingly let you keep.
As you cooked the bird and set your haul aside from the day, you couldn’t help but think of Katniss. Who could get that girl off their mind? She wasn’t just physically attractive, but mentally too.
She’d given you such a great day and you wanted to return the favor. Maybe just to let you guys hang out, and to give her a good time in return. Maybe you could even coax her into liking you more, if that was possible. Her ice walls had to melt eventually, you just had to keep breaking through.
You sat down to eat and debated what to do until you had three possible ideas.
Pt 1. Pt. 3 Pt. 4
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sourwolf-sterek32 · 1 year
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Broken Without You
Summary: After witnessing the death of your best friend Henry and his little brother, you're close to giving up and ending it all. Until Joel asks you to join him and Ellie on their journey across the country and gives you a reason to keep fighting.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: language, blood
Previous Chapter
Chapter 2-
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"My plan worked. I delivered." Henry announced once you were back topside and walking down the empty street outside the city.
The moon was shining brightly in the sky above you, lighting up the road without the need of flashlights. You trailed behind them, your eyes scanning the old abandoned houses for any sign of movement, but it seemed to be clear.
"So, we cross the river and then what? Where are you gonna go?" Ellie asked, glancing over at Henry.
"Don't know yet."
"Well, we're going to Wyoming." She answered causing Joels head to snap in her direction with a warning look. "What? It's a huge state. It can fit three more people." 
"No offence, kid. I think once we're out of here, we go our separate ways. It'll be better for everyone." You responded, eyeing Joel cautiously.
You still weren't sure what to make of him. Sure, he gave Sam his food last night, but he had been nothing but cold towards you. He clearly didn't want you or Henry around, he hadn't been trying to hide it, so it was better that you just went your separate ways.
"No, he'll change his mind. Trust me. This is how it goes. He's like, 'no, Ellie. Never, ever, ever happening.' And then I'm like, 'I'm gonna ask you a million more times.' And he's like-"
A gunshot suddenly cracked through the still night air. The bullet whizzing straight past your head and hitting the tree behind you with a loud bang.
"Move, move!" Joel's voice shouted.
You were already moving, grabbing Sam and Henry and shoving them down behind one of the broken-down cars beside Joel and Ellie.
"The fuck is that coming from?" Henry questioned in panic.
"Shut up." Joel snapped, glaring at him before he slowly peaked out over the hood of the car, but quickly ducked back down when the person fired again.
"Fuck. Let's move. Let's go." Henry said, grabbing Sam's hand and about to run away.
"No! Stay down." You ordered, grabbing Henry's other arm and yanking them both down just as another bullet flew past them. "Are you fucking crazy? You nearly got killed."
You shook your head at him before you peaked around the side of the car trying to locate the shooter before he fired again, and you saw the flash of the gunshot in the upper story of the house across the road.
"Shooter is in the top window of that house." You informed, glancing over at Joel whose wild panicked eyes met yours. "If you give me that gun I can sneak around the back of the house and take him out."
A surprised look flashed across his eyes, but he quickly schooled his expression and shook his head.
"I'll go. You guys stay here."
"What?" Ellie practically yelped.
"If you don't move, he's not gonna hit you." Joel reassured, his voice softer and gentler than you had ever heard it before he glanced over at you. "I'm gonna do what you said. Make sure they stay behind the car."
You nodded, reaching over and grabbing Sam's hand, making sure the boy didn't try and run anywhere, although it was probably Henry you should be worried about running if earlier was any indication.
"But if you go out there, he's gonna kill you." Ellie exclaimed.
"It's dark, and he has shit aim. Nobody's gonna kill me."
"Then he's gonna kill us."
"Do you trust me?" Joel asked, looking back at Ellie who nodded without hesitation.
For someone who claimed not to be his daughter, she seemed rather attached to him and vice versa. But that was something to think about later when you weren't being shot at.
You watched Joel run off, ducking behind any object he could use for cover as the shooter began to fire at him, but like Joel said, he had shit aim. Not even a minute later, there was a very distinct gunshot, different from the single shot rifle from earlier and you knew that had to be Joel. He did it.
"I think it's clear now." You said, slowly standing up from behind the car, ready to duck back down if need be, but there were no more bullets flying towards you. "He did it."
The others all sighed with relief and stood up too, but before you could start making your way to the house, the sudden roar of car engines filled the air.
You spun around to find bright headlights of vehicles speeding down the road towards you. The large reinforced armoured truck charged through, taking out all the broken-down cars in its path and your stomach dropped. It was them.
"Run. Now, go, go!" You shouted, ushering them all in the opposite direction.
The repetitive single shot blast started up again, Joel now shooting at the cars through the window of the house. Ellie pulled her handgun out, firing off a few rounds behind her in the general direction of the cars as the three of you sprinted for your lives.
One of Joel's shots must have landed because when you glanced over your shoulder, the truck suddenly turned left, crashing into one of the houses on the side of the road. Ellie was lying on the ground though, having tripped over and you quickly rushed over to her.
"Are you okay?" You asked, looking at her up and down for any gunshots or injuries, but she seemed to be okay.
The rest of the resistance cars suddenly pulled up, their bright headlights momentarily blinding you. You shielded your eyes just as they all exited the vehicles with rifles and various weapons in their hands.
Shit, that wasn't good.
"Go. Run." You ordered, pushing Ellie forward.
Suddenly the truck caught alight from where it had crashed in the house and exploded. The force of the explosion sent you flying forward, your body tumbling hard onto the bitumen road and head slamming against it.
Black dots clouded your vision and for a moment, you feared you were going to pass out, but you managed to blink them away to find Ellie leaning over you. She was shouting, her mouth frantically moving, but you couldn't hear anything above the loud ringing in your ears.
The girl grabbed your arm, helping you to your feet. You stumbled a few steps, but managed to keep your footing as the two of you sprinted across the street and took cover behind one of the broken-down cars where Henry and Sam were.
"Holy shit, is she okay?" Henry questioned as you dropped down beside him, your back pressed against the side door of the vehicle.
"I-I don't know, man. She hit her head hard." Ellie breathlessly answered, looking over at you worriedly.
You could feel blood trickling down the side of your face from the cut on your forehead, the blood matting in your hair and staining the collar of your jacket. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, willing the world around you to stop spinning.
Hands suddenly cupped your face, and you opened your eyes to find Henry looking at you panic. You still couldn't hear anything between the ringing and blood rushing in your ears, but Henry must have heard something. His body turned tense to the point of shaking before he started to shout stuff over his shoulder and you realised he was probably shouting at Kathleen.
Henry turned back towards you, the panic in his eyes earlier now only heightened as he looked between the three of you.
"Get ready to take Sam and run." He signed while he spoke, realising that you were having trouble hearing after the explosion.
Take Sam and run? What? What was he going to do?
You watched in confusion as he gave you a small reassuring smile before he suddenly stepped out from behind the car with his hands raised.
He was going to hand himself in. That realisation hit you like a truck, and you jumped to your feet in an instant. Ellie tried to grab your arm to stop you, but you were already out of arms reach as you stumbled out from behind the car and stood beside Henry.
Kathleen stood across the road, her army of resistant soldiers beside her while the truck and house burned brightly from behind her. She grinned when she saw you before she raised her handgun in your direction, but she didn't get a chance to use it.
The truck that was imbedded into the house suddenly began to move. Kathleen turned around and you watched the truck slowly sink into the ground, disappearing completely and your blood turned cold when you realised what was happening.
As if on cue, the ground below you began to rumble, and you had to grab hold of Henrys shoulder to keep yourself up right. Your hearing slowly started to come back and all you could hear were the snarls and growls of infected.
Then, within a blink of an eye, a sea of infected emerged from the sinkhole and charged at all the resistance.
You were paralysed where you stood as you stared at the mass amount of infected tearing apart the soldiers. You had never seen so many in your entire life, and they were everywhere.
Henry suddenly pulled you back behind the car before he grabbed Sam's hand and the group of you sprinted in the opposite direction, trying to get away from the infected and men with guns.
Amongst all the chaos, you lost sight of Ellie. The girl was no longer with the three of you and you frantically looked around.
"Where's Ellie?!" You shouted over the gunfire.
"I don't know. We need to go!" Henry shouted back.
Shit, you couldn't just leave her.
"Go! I'll be right behind you." You responded, waving at Henry and Sam to keep running before you turned and jogged back in the direction you had just came from, ignoring Henry shouting your name.
You picked up a rifle off the ground from one of the many dead bodies while ducking and weaving between the infected, most too distracted attacking Kathleen's people to worry about you. The ones that did notice, you shot before they could reach you.
You hated how familiar the weapon felt in your hands. The standard issue AR-15 which you knew inside out. You ignored the feeling and pressed the butt of the gun into your shoulder as you looked through the red dot sight and shot the infected sprinting towards you.
The past was the past. It was buried, and you planned to keep it that way.
Suddenly, something banged against the window of the car to your left and you turned around with your gun raised, expecting it to be another infected, but then your eyes landed on Ellie.
She was inside the car. Oh, thank God.
"Open the door!"
Her voice was muffled inside the car as she frantically pulled on the door handle, but the car door was stuck. She couldn't open it.
You rushed over and tried the outside handle, but the door wouldn't budge, and that's when you saw the child sized infected in the backseat heading straight for Ellie.
"Move!" You yelled, waving her away from the car window before you put a bullet through it and the glass shattered on impact.
You used the barrel of the gun to clear out the remaining shards of glass before tossing the weapon over your shoulder with the gun strap. Ellie practically threw herself out the window, and you grabbed her, helping her the rest of the way out.
"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." Ellie panted as you looked back at the car to find the infected already starting to climb out the window too. "Shit, Henry and Sam are in trouble."
Those words had your head snapping away from the infected kid and you followed Ellies line of sight and spotted the two of them huddle together under a car while some infected tried to reach them. Shit
You grabbed Ellie's hand, not wanting to lose her again as you began to run towards Sam and Henry. But you barely got a few metres before an infected appeared in front of you.
A bullet suddenly shot out of nowhere, killing the infected instantly and there was no questioning where that single shot had come from. It was Joel.
You glanced over your shoulder towards the house he was still in to find him sitting in the window with the scoped rifle. You gave him a small two finger salute and he nodded back before you took off running again.
Joel continued to take down the infected around you, clearing a path for the two of you before you reached Sam and Henry. You wasted no time, grabbing one of the infected that was holding Sam's leg and yanked it off the boy before Joel had a clear shot and killed it.
"Come on! Come on!" Ellie shouted, reaching down and helping Henry out from under the car before you all took off running.
You reached the side of the house Joel was in, but didn't get a chance to go inside before a familiar voice shouted at you.
"Stop!"
You turned around with your gun raised, moving in front of Ellie and Sam protectively just as Kathleen stepped forward, her handgun pointed at you.
"Drop the gun. I said, drop the fucking gun!" You yelled, finger resting on the trigger.
"No, I don't think I will. Henry turned my brother in, but I know it was you that killed him. So, now you get to watch Henry and Sam die."
"You make a move on them, you'll be dead before you hit the ground." You warned.
Kathleen grinned, but before she could say anything in response, the very same child clicker from the car earlier appeared out of nowhere and attacked her.
You quickly took a few steps back and watched the child unleash at her, tearing her body apart right in front of you. If you hadn't gotten that car door open, that is what would've happened to Ellie.
"This way now! Move!" Joel's voice suddenly shouted.
He grabbed your shoulder, startling you out of your thoughts before he pulled you away and you quickly followed. The group of you ran off into the darkness away from the total destruction happening behind you.
You didn't stop running until you could no longer hear the growls of the infected in the distance and you managed to find an old motel on the side of the road.
After sweeping one of the rooms and barricading the front door shut, you all collapsed on the floor, completely exhausted. Well, minus Ellie and Sam who were sitting on the bed in the other room busy reading a comic book together.
"I don't think it needs stitches, but this is the best I can do." Henry said, kneeling in front of you as he finished cleaning the cut on your forehead with a wet cloth. "How do you feel?"
"I told you, I'm fine." You sighed, not wanting him to worry about you.
"Mmm, yeah. You really think I believe that?" He asked, standing up with a stretch.
"I don't care what you believe. It's the truth."
"The truth? Really?" He asked, raising his eyebrow at you in disbelief. He tossed the wet rag onto the bench before he lifted himself up onto it and sat down, looking over at you. "That is coming from the girl who crashed her bicycle when we were five and didn't tell anyone until her wrist literally turned black. I had to take you to the ER on the handlebars of my bike."
You rolled your eyes at the memory and leant your head back against the wall behind you and closed them. The light coming in from the kids room was ridiculously brighter than normal.
A few seconds later, something hit your chest and you opened your eyes and looked down to find a piece of beef jerky now in your lap. Frowning in confusion, you looked up to find Joel walking past, chewing his own jerky before he glanced over at you.
"Don't fall asleep yet. You might have a concussion." He said, taking a seat against the wall a few metres away.
You scoffed, "why do you care?"
"I don't." He answered honestly, before he tilted his head back towards you. "But, uh, thank you."
"What?"
"I said, thank you. I saw what you did back there. You saved Ellie in that car. So, thank you."
You stared at him for a few seconds and realised that he actually meant it and you simply nodded, "she's a good kid."
He nodded too, looking over at the girl sitting in the other room with a fond look in his eye, "she is."
The three of you once again sat in silence while you ate. The kid's laughter and soft chatter the only noise before Henry spoke up.
"You think they'll be okay?"
You glanced over at Henry before looking back at the kids who were sitting side by side reading the comic book happily. Yeah, they'll be okay.
"Yeah, I think... it's easier when you're a kid anyway." Joel replied, speaking up for the first time in a while. "You don't have anybody else relying on you. That's the hard part."
"Well, I guess we're doing a good job then."
Joel nodded, looking back at the kids, "what's that comic book say? Endure and survive?"
"Endure and survive." Henry repeated before shaking his head. "That shit's redundant."
"Yeah, it's not great." Joel admitted.
"No." Henry agreed, chuckling softly and you smiled, missing hearing your best friend laugh like that.
"Look, I don't know exactly how I'm gettin' to Wyoming and I'm probably walkin'. But... you know, if you want to..." He trailed off, looking between the two of you and Henry quickly nodded.
"Yeah. Yeah. I think it'd be nice for Sam to have a friend. I'll tell him in the morning. New day, new start."
You watched as Henry stood up and walked into the kids' room, telling Sam it was time for bed before Joel tossed you another piece of jerky which you caught this time.
You nodded your thanks, but didn't say anything and he didn't say anything either as the two of you sat in comfortable silence eating your jerky quietly.
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link-posting · 6 months
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Survival Instincts/Time Heals All Wounds (Part 1)
Another day, another Hyrule. They’re in another forest- why is it always a forest?- so most of the Chain hangs back to let Wild take the lead. He’s got a surprising knack for navigating Hyrulian forests, no matter which Hyrule they end up in. He’s chipper today, in one of his more manic moods. He’s having too much fun chatting and joking with the rest of the Chain to notice he’s moving on muscle memory. He might not recognize where they are, but his body does. His subconscious does.
Twilight walks beside him, making some quip or joke as they approach the tree line. The rest of the Chain laughs, but for Wild, time slows down. The Chain doesn’t notice the red dot that’s appeared on Twilight’s chest. Or the red laser it’s coming from.
“Get down!” Wild yelled suddenly, tackling Twilight out of the way just as the Guardian roaming Hyrule Field fired. The ground exploded where Twi had just been standing, so close Wild’s pants and the back of his leg had been seared by the blast.
“Stay in the trees! Let me handle this,” Wild said, quickly jumping to his feet.
Every fiber of his being was telling him to run, to flee with the Chain through the forest. The Guardian can’t follow them through the trees. But that would leave it there to wander the field, risking the life of anyone who wandered into this area. Wild’s sword was unsheathed before anyone could protest.
They were all frozen with shock, Twi barely able to pull his eyes from the obliterated ground he once stood on to look at the large, imposing Guardian- already charging up another attack. Wild charged out of the trees, bobbing and weaving to make it a bit more challenging for the Guardian to lock on. No one else in the Chain had seen a Guardian so close before. Twi had seen them from a distance, but Wild had never dared get close enough to risk harm to his companion.
The Chain watched in horror as another blast was fired off- with Wild ducking and rolling behind a rock just in time. Adrenaline was surging through him as he jumped up onto the rock and launched off. Time seemed to slow as Wild drew back his bow in mid-air, firing off three arrows in quick succession, each arrow ringing out as they pierced the “eye” of the Guardian. It barely seemed to faze the Guardian.
Wild hit the ground running, sword drawn the instant he hit the ground. He had to close the distance fast- he could see the eye flashing faster and faster as he ran. This time, Wild just barely dodged out of the way, though he was still sent flying off his feet from the force of the blast hitting the ground. He hit the ground hard, and without thinking Time was up on his feet, running just outside the tree line. The Guardian seemed to sense his presence and quickly spun away from the young Hero lying on the ground.
Time had no plan beyond getting the Guardian’s attention off Wild. He didn’t know how to fight it, how to time when to dodge out of the way. He didn’t know what they’re capable of when blast meets flesh. He knew Wild’s scars well, but nothing could have prepared him for the searing pain that flashed through his body- like magma being poured directly onto his flesh. His vision flashed red as the pain of his flesh being torn from his body overloaded him.
Wild lifted his head from the ground just in time to watch his fellow Hero crumple.
He let out an animalistic noise as he lurched up from the ground. Without a moment of hesitation Wild leaped up, using the Guardian’s own leg to jump up, grabbing onto the Guardian with one arm as he plunged his sword straight through the Guardian’s eye. Immediately the Guardian started to Malfunction before crumpling to the ground. Wild dropped a bomb next to the Guardian- just to be safe- and ran for Time. The others had already reached him, though they had no idea what to do. His skin was black, his burnt clothes still smoking.
“I know where we need to take him. It’s not far from here,” Wild said urgently.
The stunned Chain gathered their wits at his words. Twi was first to recover, lifting up Time as carefully and quickly as he could. He was heavy, but Twi had wrangled enough goats in his life to be capable of carrying his ancestor. The rest of the Chain hurried after them, everyone moving as fast as they could after Wild. He had to make sure to pace with Twilight, wishing he could just teleport with him to the Shrine of Resurrection.
Wild never wanted to return to this place. He had to fight the flood of trauma memories threatening to overtake him as they rushed across the Great Plateau. The group had to work together to get Time back through the cave to the Shrine itself, and Wild himself helped Twilight lower him into the healing waters.
All they could do now is wait.
Part 2
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scriveyner · 2 years
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always summer #22
always summer #22: 69 | bungou stray dogs |👿🐯 | #kinktober 🔞| ~1900 words
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They had been hiking for the better part of the afternoon, through dense, shaded forest and up a gently sloping mountain trail. Akutagawa hadn’t seen any hikers since they set out in the early morning, leaving Dazai on one of the old wooden benches, Chuuya’s hat over his eyes. Supposedly they were hiking one of the trails as well, but as Dazai had seemed less than enthused with the activity he wouldn’t be surprised to see the car gone whenever they returned to the trailhead.
Continue on ao3 or:
It was nice, to be out in nature. He could hear the animals moving about around them—a wild deer had crossed the trail ahead of them, it froze when it noticed the intruders, and then was gone with a flick of its white tail, vanishing into the trees.
“There goes lunch,” Akutagawa said dryly, and Atsushi elbowed him.
Akutagawa had been remarkably amenable to this whole endeavor, which came as a surprise—mostly to himself. He knew Atsushi hadn’t pegged him as someone who would enjoy being outside as long as they had been, but he’d been by Atsushi’s side most of the days now, so much so that the paleness of his skin had warmed from the constant exposure to the sun.
There was a small, shallow creek that crossed the trail, with large flat stones meant to make the crossing easier. Atsushi still managed to wipe out on them and land in the shallow water, much to Akutagawa’s great amusement. Instead of deigning to follow Atsushi’s lead, Rashomon easily lifted him over the creek, and he stood, dry, on the other bank as Atsushi splashed through the ankle-high water.
Eventually, they reached a natural overlook that was marked with a pile of stones; it hadn’t been on Atsushi’s map and probably wasn’t that safe, but they sat on the rocks and looked out over the rolling hills, the ancient remnants of once-majestic mountains. Akutagawa leaned against Atsushi’s shoulder, the most contact he was willing to offer at the moment, still sweaty and gross from the climb.
“It feels like we’re the only two people in the world up here,” Atsushi said, shadowing his eyes from the sun.
Akutagawa threaded his fingers through Atsushi’s, and Atsushi looked over at him and smiled when Akutagawa leaned for a kiss. “Sometimes,” Akutagawa said, “I wish we were.”
Atsushi clearly didn’t know quite how to take that, so he ducked his head and looked away, blushing furiously and still holding Akutagawa’s hand—so he tugged Atsushi back and kissed him again.
Sometimes, when he looked at it from the outside, it still made not a single lick of sense to him that he would be here right now, walking under the midday sun, side by side with his most hated enemy. Akutagawa watched Atsushi as they walked, and he was taking in the sights and sounds of the forest around them, smile broad and open on his face—and Akutagawa was smitten all over again.
God, he was smitten. Hadn’t he come on this trip determined to pretend there was nothing left between them?
Atsushi’s face buried in the covers beside him, dropping off to sleep as he spoke; “good, ‘cause I love you too much…”
Akutagawa flushed and immediately turned his head slightly and stopped walked walking to cough.
Atsushi’s reaction was immediate, he half-turned on the trail, just a little bit ahead of Akutagawa. “Are you alright?” he asked, as Akutagawa uncapped his water to take a drink. “Has this been too much? We can head back at any time.”
“I am fine, weretiger,” Akutagawa said, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. He looked up to see Atsushi looking around, clearly eying the landscape. The trees were large and old but the space between them was wider at this point in the trail, and there wasn’t that much by way of vegetation and underbrush—in fact, there were several small clearings dotted around where the sun broke through the canopy above.
Atsushi nodded his head, shifting his backpack on his back, and stepping off the trail. “Come on, we’re gonna take another break. I’m hungry anyway, aren’t you?”
“Isn’t going off the trail the number one thing we’re not supposed to do, ever, co-signed by at least four signs we passed?” Akutagawa asked.
Atsushi waved his hand in the air. “Look, you can see the trail from over here. We can spread out the blanket in my back and eat lunch and you can rest up before we start to head back.”
“We don’t need to head back; I am fine going further.” Akutagawa still didn’t step off the path, at least until he identified the largest old tree and using Rashomon impaled a branch high into its trunk in a most unnatural manner so they could find the trail again.
“You didn’t trust me?”
“Of course not. You will fall asleep in the sun after we eat and by the time you wake up, we will be disoriented and not able to find the path again.”
Atsushi stuck out his tongue as Akutagawa joined him in the clearing, full of lush wild grass that had been tamped down already by something large. Atsushi spread out their quilt and immediately dropped into a sitting position on it, backpack in his lap as he began to pull out the sandwiches he’d packed for lunch. Akutagawa sat on the soft blanket as well, picked up a sandwich from the pile, and began to eat.
He actually managed two of the sandwiches and was considering a third when Atsushi puppy-dog-eyed him out of it. “You are lucky I like you,” Akutagawa sniffed, and Atsushi beamed at him, devouring the sandwich like all the others before rolling onto his back in the sunlight and spreading his arms out, stretching big.
“And, out,” Akutagawa commanded, waving his hand—Atsushi lifted a particular finger in his direction, and he smiled, amused. “No sun-fueled power nap for the overgrown house pet? Color me amazed.”
“You know,” Atsushi said, folding his arms under his head, “you don’t have to be so sarcastic all the time, right? No one’s going to hold it against you to be genuine about things now and again.”
Akutagawa was silent for a long time, staring at Atsushi, whose eyes remained closed against the sunlight. “I am genuine about one thing,” he said, finally, and Atsushi shaded his eyes so he could look over at Akutagawa, sitting on his knees on the blanket. “I’m genuine in how I feel about you. The rest,” he said with a sad, wry smile, “is unfortunately just my shitty personality that you will have to deal with if you choose to continue with this relationship.”
Atsushi sat up on his elbows for a second, before transitioning to all the way upright. “Don’t say things like that,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I want to continue with this relationship? Being around you is fun, easy, and comfortable.”
“Three things that would baffle literally everyone who knows me,” Akutagawa said. “You do recall I cut off your leg?”
“Don’t forget all the times you stabbed me,” Atsushi started counting off on his fingers every instance of bodily trauma he’d endured at Akutagawa’s hands until Akutagawa had to stop him. “If you’re not going to get rid of me over a little thing like that, I really don’t think you have to worry about your personality that much.”
Akutagawa pushed him over and Atsushi flopped onto his back again, surprised—but he stilled when Akutagawa laid out next to him, their heads nearly touching. “I’ve never been in love before,” Akutagawa said, finally, and Atsushi’s hand found his and squeezed it tight. “So, I figure I’m pretty shit at that, too.”
“Well, neither have I, so we can be shitting about it together,” Atsushi said with confidence, and Akutagawa bonked his head softly against Atsushi’s, and they both laughed.
Atsushi did doze off, just as Akutagawa had predicted. He eventually extracted himself to step away from the blanket, far enough away to take a leak and not have to worry about their belongings, and when he returned Atsushi was muzzy but starting to wake from his nap. Akutagawa, teasingly, leaned in for a kiss to wake his sleeping weretiger.
When Atsushi shifted, his shorts revealed that he’d gone hard, erection visibly straining through his underwear, and Akutagawa pushed him in the shoulder. “It’s far too late in the day for morning wood!”
Atsushi lifted his hips, shifting his weight, and was about to put his hand down his shorts to deal with it when Akutagawa caught his wrist. Atsushi huffed and dropped back to the quilt, as Akutagawa threw his leg over Atsushi’s chest and sat up on his knees, looking imperiously over his shoulder. “I wanted dessert anyway.”
“Did you?” Atsushi helped regardless, getting his shorts down enough that Akutagawa could extract him from his underwear easily enough. “If I had known that I would have let you go to town earlier—hng.”
Akutagawa’s mouth always shut him up, and, after a moment of creative shuffling, he stretched himself over Atsushi better. He was more focused on the dick in front of him and in his mouth than how he was arranged, at least until Atsushi started pulling his own shorts down. “What are you doing?” Akutagawa asked, the head of Atsushi’s cock slipping from his lips, leaving sticky strands spiderwebbing between them.
“Maybe I want dessert too,” Atsushi said, one eye closing as Akutagawa’s dick smacked into his face. Akutagawa snorted as Atsushi licked him, then shuddered once and returned to his task at hand.
The air was full of nothing but the soft noises they were both making, licking and mouthing and sighing and little grunts and groans of pleasure. Akutagawa squeezed the base of Atsushi’s cock when he felt his muscles start to clench and Atsushi groaned, Akutagawa’s dick slipping from his mouth. “Was close,” he complained, and Akutagawa licked him up one side and down the other and that silenced him as effectively as anything.
Atsushi’s mouth was pretty damn good on its own, an oven that swallowed him down, and he grabbed at Akutagawa’s hips, dragging him down and swallowing Akutagawa’s cock to the root. Shudders ran through him, and Akutagawa gasped, Atsushi’s throat working around him, and he couldn’t hold back the tidal wave of his orgasm; it very nearly swept him under.
He tried to focus on Atsushi’s dick, but the aftershocks were still rocking through him, his dick dragging across Atsushi’s cheek leaving streaks of white while he coughed and swallowed, still lying flat on his back. Akutagawa refused to choke himself out, but he stroked Atsushi hard, mouth wrapped around the tip, and when he finally encouraged the climax out of Atsushi, he was able to catch most of it in his mouth.
“Fuck,” Atsushi said and laughed breathlessly. Akutagawa rolled off him, onto his back, dick flopping against his skin—and he covered his eyes with his arm. “Fuck, that was better than I was expecting.”
“Weretiger,” Akutagawa said raggedly, “do you even have a fucking gag reflex?”
“Hm? No, I don’t think so.” Atsushi sat up and wiped his mouth. “Didn’t Dazai-san already mention that?”
“I thought he was joking.” A pause. “How does he know—?”
“You’ve seen me eat.”
Akutagawa had to concede the point. He exhaled and laughed, and Atsushi nudged him with a knee, and they both kept laughing under the warm summer sun.
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