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filmtv2022 · 1 year

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By Your Side: Chapter Seventeen (18+ Minor DNI)

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Masterlist

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Reader

Chapter Summary: Rhett finds himself struggling with the distance that seems to stand between what he wants and what feels is possible given the circumstances. While Y/N finds herself thinking about the past and the day that marked the beginning of the end for her and her family. Rhett and Y/N find their way back to each other, even if it is only temporarily.

Summary: Returning to Wabang was never something that Y/N had planned on, but with the loss of her father leaving her the sole owner of her family’s farm she must go back. Time spent at home forces Y/N to face the people she left behind. Will Y/N be able to navigate the murky waters of her past and present as the lines between them blur?

Warnings: mentions of illness + steamy/spicy (kind of smutty scene) + language

A/N: First up, the italicized section is a flashback memory. Gosh, yet again, I had myself feeling all sorts of things with this chapter. And on top of that, I am genuinely terrified for the next couple of parts of the story. Here's to a good moment before things get difficult again.

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Rhett’s voice cracked as he finished reading the letter. Reaching out, he enveloped you as he saw your body start to give way under the immense emotional weight you were carrying. Securing you in the safety of his arms, he held your head to his chest as you cried, the rough fabric of his coat collecting your tears as he tried to still your shaking. Burying his nose in your hair, his lips brushed the crown of your head as he pressed you closer to him. The letter was still held in his hand while he stood guard as your protector. Holding you like this brought back memories for Rhett that he’d tried so hard to forget in the intervening years.

By the time you’d collected yourself enough to breathe normally the rest of the people who’d attended Trevor’s funeral had cleared out of the cemetery. The wind whipping through the dead foliage was the only sound to be heard. Catching up with yourself, you pulled back and wiped your tears with the heel of your hand. Rhett’s hands adjusted position so that they were resting on your waist and your cheek, the pressure gentle, but firm as he wasn’t ready for this moment to pass. Your palms landed on his chest as his head dipped down, his warm breath drifted over your face as he mustered up the courage to speak.

“I shouldn’t have let you say that you were with me that night. I... I froze. And what I said to Joy about the phone calls and James… that never should’ve happened. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Your face turned up to meet his, your lips ghosting over his as you took in his apology. Having him close like this clouded your brain, and it made it easier somehow to forget the reality of the situation. But the longer you resisted, the faster the truth of everything came crashing back.

“Rhett, I love you, but this shit you’re wrapped up in with your family, I can’t get caught in it too. Not if it means…” Your words got caught in your throat, the thought of saying your fear out loud too much to handle, “I just can’t, I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Tearing yourself from his arms, you walked away as calmly as you could. But no matter the distance and circumstance you could feel the connection between you two. Rhett’s eyes never left you, his focus staying on you until he could no longer see the truck. Folding the letter in his hand, he shoved it into a pocket before taking off to join his family at the gathering.

…………………………..

Not in the mood, and truly done with playing pretend around people he simply didn’t give a shit about, Rhett stayed only long enough to say he’d gone. Storming back to his truck, he tore out of the lot and headed back to the Abbott ranch. Sitting in the driver’s seat, he found himself reflecting on you. His feelings for you hadn’t dimmed, it had always been you… it would always be you. And yet here he was losing you again. Sniffing sharply to clear the tears, he leaned over to the glove box and reached inside. Hesitantly, he took out the box, opening up and removing the smaller container. Running his fingers over the outside, he flipped it open, the ring glistened in the light coming through the windshield.

Climbing out of the truck he tucked the ring box into the hidden pocket of his jacket, there he could feel its hard outline on his chest above his heart. He knew it wouldn’t be long before his family was home, and he didn’t have the strength to face them again tonight… not without you. Climbing up the stairs to the second floor, Rhett made his way to his bedroom, locking the door behind him to ensure he wouldn’t have to deal with any unwelcome intrusions.

………………………..

The next morning started with an unwanted wake-up call. Insistent pounding on his door forced Rhett out of bed. Groggy from sleep, he made his way over to investigate who was behind the nose. Undoing the lock, he ripped open his bedroom door only to find his brother standing on the other side.

“What the hell do you want, Per?”

“Dad says we’ve gotta get goin’ on replacing those boards on the holding pens.”

“I thought the two of you were gonna do it.”

“Yeah, well… he... he changed his mind I guess.”

“Fine, I’ll be down in a minute.”

Shutting the door in Perry’s face, he quickly turned to get ready. Before long he found himself working in uncomfortable silence with his brother, the thwack of hammers hitting wood making up for the lack of conversation. He could tell by the way Perry kept glancing over at him that he wanted to say something, but was at a loss for how to begin. Rhett prayed that Perry would just keep his mouth shut because there wasn’t a single thing he could say at this point that would actually make things better. But as always, Rhett’s prayers went ignored as Perry finally mustered the gumption to speak.

“Hey, the other night with Joy, I should’ve figured somethin’ different to tell her. I fucked up, sorry.”

Maybe it was the nonchalant way in which Perry spoke, but something about his words sent anger flashing through Rhett.

“Well, I fucked up, too, didn’t I?”

“How’s that?”

“I was dumb enough to help you in the first place. And now… I’m gonna lose Y/N all over again because of it.”

Slamming the crowbar in between the boards, Rhett tried his best to release his anger but found that it just kept growing as Perry continued to talk.

“Hey. There’s no way I’m gonna let you go down for this, and you’re not gonna lose Y/N. Okay?”

Wrenching the crowbar out of its spot, Rhett stepped away from his brother, tearing the rotted board away from the posts before letting it drop to the ground. There was nothing more to be said, at least not at that moment. Falling quiet again, Rhett returned to his work. Perry caught on to the shift this time and made the wise decision to keep his mouth shut.

…………………………

The day after the funeral you found yourself trying anything to keep your mind off of Rhett. Moving from room to room you assessed what remained of your parent’s stuff, taking note of what you’d need to take care of before leaving, and what could be sold with the house. Having finished with the main rooms, you decided it was time for a break. Heading outside, you stood at the edge of the porch, and inhaled deeply, listening to the wind chimes tinkle lightly in the breeze. Letting your eyelids shut, you tipped your face to the sky basking in the freedom of the open air.

You weren’t sure how long you’d stood on the porch, but the wind picking up forced you back inside where you wandered into the living room. Easing yourself down onto the couch, you picked up the photo album you had placed there earlier during your survey of the house. You’d flipped through many of the others before placing them into a plastic tote that would be easy to take with you when you were finally ready to leave. But this one, you hadn’t yet been able to bring yourself to open. Smoothing your hand over the cover, the fabric felt soft under your touch. Resting it on your lap, you cast your eyes across the room to your father’s chair. If you closed your eyes you could almost hear him sitting there grumbling at the TV as the football game played, and in the background, your mom’s beautiful voice followed melodically along with the lyrics to some country song as she cooked in the kitchen.

Fiddling with the edge of the album, you sat staring blankly around the room, memories from the past filling your mind. Time continued to move by as you were lost in thoughts of days gone by. Cracking open the book you thumbed through the pages, hovering over each as if by touching it you could travel back to that very moment. You were surprised with how well you were holding up as you continued to reminisce, but that steadiness came to end when flipped to the next page. There it was, the picture that’d kept you from doing this earlier.

Caressing the bubbled tape that held the corners of the photo down, a lump formed in the back of your throat as you fought against the memory. The image before you marked what would become the tipping point of devastating change for your family. Taken the day your mother delivered the truth about her illness, the juxtaposition of the smiles gracing your faces and the reality that would be handed down just hours later was crushing to think about. There you were after your latest rodeo win, your mother’s arm resting on your shoulders as the two of you grinned for the camera. And there was Rhett, on your other side, mirroring your pose. Closing your eyes, you returned to that day for the first time in many years.

The announcer’s voice echoed through the crowd as you and Rhett stood posing for a picture with your mothers. It had been a successful day for the both of you, and on any other day, it would be time to celebrate. Breaking free from the camera’s gaze, you turned to your mom in the hope of begging for permission to spend the rest of the day with Rhett and the rest of the Abbott family. You could feel that Rhett was no longer lingering behind you as you posed the question to your mother.

“Hey, momma, do you think it’d be okay if I went with Rhett and his family this afternoon? I promise I’ll be home by curfew this time.”

You noticed the look that flashed between your mother and father who had been behind the camera just moments ago. Looking back at your dad you waited for him to speak as it quickly became clear that your mom was not going to answer.

“So, can I go?”

“Ummm, actually Y/N. We…uhh” Clearing his throat to cover the thick sadness in his voice, “We need to have some family time tonight.”

Normally, this would have been a time of protest for your teenage self, but something in your father’s eyes told you that this was not the time for such antics. Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention for a second, it was Rhett and Ceci standing away from you and your family. Their body language was enough to tell you they were also having what appeared to be a serious conversation.

“Okay. Can I just talk to Rhett for a second?”

“Sure sweetie, just meet us at the truck.”

Making your way to Rhett, you saw your parents start the trek back to the parking lot. Your father’s grip on your mom steadied her on the uneven ground. Ceci’s attention snapped to you as you got closer, there was a sorrow in her eyes that terrified you, but now didn’t feel like the time to ask about it. Giving her son a brief hug she excused herself so that the two of you could have a moment together.

“Hey, so my parents said no to going out to dinner.”

“I figured... we can go another time.”

You’d rarely seen Rhett look like this before, worry etched over every feature. His shoulders slumped as his hands found a home on your body. Raking down your side with one hand, his fingers dug into your hip as the other slipped into your hair.

“Everythin’ okay?”

“Yeah. Just call me later, all right?”

“Sure.”

You’d barely finished speaking when his lips crashed with yours, the kiss needy in a way you’d never experienced from him. It was as if he was trying to console you with his touch, but you had no idea what could be bringing this on. Breaking apart, his forehead fell to yours as you both collected yourselves.

“You probably better go catch up with your family.”

“Probably.”

With that, Rhett pulled back, his stunningly blue eyes catching yours for a moment before he turned away to rejoin his parents. You observed him closely as he walked away, the pit growing in your stomach blooming as you saw his mother embrace him yet again.

The trip back to your dad’s truck was slow as several people stopped you along the way to offer their congratulations, but eventually, you did make it back. The mood on the ride back to the house was subdued, neither of your parents uttered a single word.

Now back at home, the sky grew dark with impending rain as the distant sound of rolling thunder rumbled through the air. Your parents moved like ghosts into the house, your worry turning to frustration as they seemed to be avoiding something.

Standing in the kitchen as your mom began to pull out the items for that night’s dinner and your dad sat at the table drinking a beer, you lost it.

“Is somebody gonna tell me what’s going on? And don’t try to say that nothing’s up because that’s bullshit and you know it!”

“Y/N, watch your language.” Your focus was honed in on your dad as he called you out for the way you were acting, “You will not speak that way in this house young lady.”

“Then tell me what’s going on!” You pleaded desperately.

“Y/N, please sweetie, have seat.”

Your mother’s calm voice halted your anger in its tracks. Her gentle hands guided you down into a seat at the table before moving to sit next to your father, his hand reaching for hers as she sat. Fidgeting in your chair you waited impatiently for either one of them to open up, but it was your mom who finally found the courage.

“There’s no easy way to say this… the treatments, they’ve stopped working.”

“No, no. That can’t… you said you were feeling better… the doctor said…” You stuttered indignantly toward your mother.

“I know honey, but-”

Your movement cut her off. Seeing the panic start to roll in, she stood from her seat and started to make her way to you, her arms extended to embrace you. The room closed in around you as your lungs struggled to take in air. The pressure of your mother’s hug should have soothed you, but instead, it sent you reeling. You needed out, if you stayed there you were sure that the walls were going to crush you. Stumbling back from the table, you hurled yourself toward the door, snatching the keys to your father’s truck from the counter on your way out. Throwing the door open, you sprinted away from the house, the rain soaking you to the bone in seconds. Clambering into the cab, you wrenched the keys in the ignition and took off.

There was only one place you wanted to be right now, and that was with Rhett. Parking in your spot, you pushed your way through the weather once more toward the Abbott home, the lights on the porch glaring bright in the darkness. Inside, Rhett saw you pulling in from where he was standing in the kitchen. He knew exactly why you were here, and he was scared. Scared for you, for your mother and father, and himself because he didn’t know if he had the strength to carry you through what was to come. Dropping the soapy dish in his hand back under the water, he stormed his way to the front of the house and tore open the door just in time to catch you in his arms. Your body weight slammed against him hard, throwing him off balance for a second. Righting himself, he fixed his grip on you. Holding onto his shirt, your voice was unsteady as you tried to vocalize the cause of your anguish. There were no tears, just pain.

“My mom…” You couldn’t finish, but that didn’t matter.

“I know, Y/N… I know.”

A deafening boom of thunder rattled the windows in their panes and broke you from your thoughts. You weren’t sure when the storm had rolled in, but it didn’t matter as you had no plans of leaving the house. Picking yourself up from the couch, you sat the album down next to where you’d been sitting before heading to the kitchen for some food. Passing by the front door you halted in your tracks as the sound of loud knocking hit your ears. Taking a few more steps, you looked out to find Rhett’s truck obscured by the heavy sheets of rain that were pouring down.

For just a brief second you hesitated, unsure if you had the emotional capacity to deal with seeing Rhett, but something in your gut told you to answer the door. Slowly, you opened it, exposing yourself to the harsh wind and blowing rain, and there he was looking like a disheveled mess, his clothes stuck to his body from the elements. Coherent thoughts illuded you at the sight of him standing before you looking wrecked and wild.

“Rhett, what are you doing-”

You didn’t have time to think as he crashed into you, his strong frame flush with your body as his hands roamed over your curves. He sighed into your mouth as he begged for more which you willingly gave. The taste of tobacco and beer on his tongue. You felt him shove the door shut with his foot before turning you around and pushing you against it. Sliding your hands up his chest, you tugged at the shoulders of his jacket, urging him to take it off. Understanding what you wanted, he shrugged off the jacket and tossed it to the side. The dampness of his clothes began to soak through yours as he pressed himself back into you and kissed down your neck.

The warmth of your fingertips on his skin as you rucked up the hem of his shirt sent shivers down his spine. A groan vibrated through his chest as he felt you skimming along his abs. Shifting your weight forward, you pushed away from the door and headed toward your room. Rhett followed swiftly, the flashing of lightning leading the way across the house.

Standing just inside your room, the feeling palpably shifted. The desperation from before was masked by the raw emotion that flowed through you both. The crackling light coming in through the window highlighted the heaving of Rhett’s chest as he stood before you. Looking up into his eyes, you leaned into his palm as it came to tenderly hold your cheek. Grasping the hem of your t-shirt you pulled it over your head before pawing at his, encouraging him to take it off. Reaching up behind his head, Rhett peeled the shirt from his wet skin, the weight of the fabric causing a light thump as it hit the floor. Reverently, the two of you removed the remaining barriers between yourselves. Closing your eyes, you gave into his touch.

Sliding his hands down your body, he gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you. Wrapping your legs around his waist you relaxed into him as he laid you back onto the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight as he propped himself on top of you. Brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen into his face, you burrowed your hand into his hair, gently bringing his lips to yours.

The rest of the world fell away as the two of you devoured each other. Needy gasps and moans filled the space and took the place of words to communicate the depth of what you felt for each other. Tears welled in your eyes as Rhett brought you over the edge, pleasure mixing with the overwhelming wholeness you felt in his arms. For Rhett, he lost himself in the feeling of you. It was too much feeling you everywhere all at once, and yet it wasn’t enough. Being with you like this reaffirmed just how sincerely he needed by his side, not just now, but always.

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@lostinthefandoms11

@hope-love-equality2

@eugene-emt-roe

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott #outer range #lewis pullman #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott smut

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bloodanddiscoballs · 1 year

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i just read about what happened to you on that post about nurses and doctors not doing their job right and... ahh I'm crying it's horrible I'm so so so sorry :( i know maybe you don't want this from a stranger but it really hurts to see an person get wronged like that with such horrible results... i sincerely wish you the best

Aww, anon, your kindness is very much appreciated. It'll be 12 years since that happened this coming summer. I was 18 and had just graduated high school. There was a lot I had planned that I never got to do, never got to accomplish. I spent many years of my life angry, resentful, filled with an overwhelming sorrow that I channeled into rage because I didn't have the bandwidth to deal with all those complicated emotions because I was busy learning how to walk over and over and over again. I was surviving, clawing at life with all the stubbornness I could muster. There was a time when I was promised that I would "go back to how it was." But as the years passed, it became increasingly obvious that wouldn't never be the case.

I was very fortunate to have an incredible therapist as well as a surgeon who felt protective of me and thus did everything in his power to fix what had been originally done to me. I worked hard, I learned to let go, to thank the old coping mechanisms for getting me through the true worst of it, and to welcome in new ones in order to move forward. I learned how to live again. Oh and what a messy process that was, but I did it. I needed to or I knew I would not keep going.

I'm going to be 30 years old in April. When I tell you I never ever thought I would make it to that birthday, I need you to believe me. I thought my body would quit on me, and in truth, it almost did multiple times. But I am here. I am living in a beautiful area where it's quiet, and the wind through the trees carries with it the sound of horses and chickens from the farm just across the wash behind my home. There are barn cats who I've befriended and cardinals who nest in the oak tree in my yard. I am creating art for others and for myself; something I thought was robbed from me when I first became disabled because I could not sit to draw or paint. I have good friends who understand and family who love me and support me.

I still struggle. My pain is never-ending. There are times when I get frustrated, of course. But I am happy. I fought very hard to be happy. Life is filled with hope and joy, and there is so much to live for. And damn it all, if I'm not going to make sure I live to see each day because even if I have a bad day, there's always tomorrow. And who knows, maybe tomorrow I get to paint something I really love or eat a new food that will be my new favorite or stumble across a new book or game that I feel like was meant for me.

I hope you have joy in your life too, Anon! We all deserve to have it.

#got kinda sappy #but hey lifes hard #make the best of it

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iceprincessviviane · 3 years

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Eyes in the darkness

Paring: Yandere!C!Technoblade x BookwormEnchanter!Female!Reader

Type: Romantic (Technoblade is yandere). Trilogy - part one. Next part.

Warnings: swearing, possessivness, yandere, angst, injury, sugestive content, threats, blood, silly jokes created by me.

Summary: Technoblade was watching Y/N for some time, trying to stay in the shadows. Unfortunately voices and thoughts won against the logic and he want her now on his side forever.

Author's note: Inspiration from a lot of things, but especially: Hades and Persephone, Beauty and the Beast. This used to be oneshot, but I changed my mind, ut will be trilogy. English isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistakes.

Words in red colour are Technoblade's voices.

Words in blue colour are Y/N thoughts.

Y/N didn’t know when was the last time she ran for her life. Probably during one of the pillagers attack on the village or maybe in the Nether. But none of them was that type. Now she was being chased by something way much more dangerous than besties. At the moment, she’s being followed by the Blood God himself. Despite the aching and pain of her muscles and her throat feeling dry from gasping for air, Y/N was still asking herself how did on earth this happen?

~*~

Y/N always loved books and reading, she came to Smp two weeks after Foolish arrival. Actually her friendship with him leaded her here. They exchanged the letters and she was interested in staying somewhere for a while. After some time, she decided to come. Her divine friend already started to build his summer home and had few buildings done. She stayed there for few couple of days, they decided to build something for herself. She already have met most of Smp members including Dream Team, Bench Trio and rest, but owning home, place for stay was good idea. Sometimes Y/N liked to be alone. Eret allowed her to build something behind his castle, it was always nice to have someone close.

It took time before she ended house, it was cozy one with big field in front, farms, cellars and most important - library with enchanting place. It was huge, biggest part of the house with plenty of regals and reading spots. Y/N loved to spend there time and collectin more books or texts. Foolish had a lot of ancient scrolls or manuscripts and liked to share them with her. They could spend hours discussing about their favourite ones.

Books caused that Y/N met Phil, because he was the second person on the Smp, which had great collection from centauries. Shark god took her at trip to Tundra. Y/N was excited to meet such person and nervous too. Happily, everything went all right, Technoblade wasn't that time in home, so they had chilling conversation. Winged man was very curious about her skills and enchants. Of course during his travells and lifespan he met enchanters, but didn't paid much attention to them. Now, he could meet one in chill ocassion. Their three had a lot of talking, giggling and being wholesome. Phil promised to borrow more interesting books and Y/N said, that she can give some enchantments.

When Technoblade came back he immediately felt, that Foolish was there with... someone else... someone new. It smelled like pine and old paper, very nice. Phil told him about visitors and Y/N, he ignored it a little bit, but voices... voices liked this smell a lot.

'So strange.' 'Which woman can smell like that?' 'Where is she living?'

}*{

Y/N was peaceful person with no intention to harm anybody, staying in her place. She stayed in positive relations with almost everyone, providing needed enchantments and helping caused, that a lot of members were friendly to her. Y/N liked to hanging out with Bench Trio, although they were sometimes so chaotic. Usually she went mining with Ranboo, when it was needed, cutting trees with Tommy for his buildings and staying in Snowchester with Tubbo. That is why she came with almost everyone, when Tommy and Tubbo were in Dream bunkier fighting with him. Discs were just items, but... Dream's obsession, it was dangerous and teenagers were her friends. After that a lot of things changed. Putting him into Pandora's Vault was meant to protect them, but she was getting cold shivers each time she looked at black walls of prison. Knowing that everyone could be locked there...

After Egg's influence grew stronger she tried to find some infromations about it and how could ghe possible defeat it, but that took time. Foolish and Phil were so helpful handing their ancient texts, to make research. Suddenly with crimson vines everywhere, Smp became less safer, at least she felt it that way. More members were busy with their business and stuff, they finally could do them, when Dream was locked. For example Foolish agreed to build big mansion for Tubbo and Ranboo, which got platonical marriage and Tommy started his hotel. Meeting Michael was so wholesome and funny, little zombie piglin started to like her and at each visit she read him fairy tales and stories.

Y/N decided to not think about bad sides of Smp, just being busy and tried to help, if someone needed it. Before Doomsday wandering around could be dangerous, especially for La'Manburg citizens, because Dream and Technoblade were unpleasant for them. Now she enjoyed visiting almost everyone everywhere. After a few visits, she could tell that something was wrong, Y/N couldn't tell what, but it was almost like being watched, blaming Egg and vines was her answer for that, but actually why? Why did it do that? She would never joined their side. Never ever. Sometimes she spotted the Phil's corws, but that wasn't a s surprise, birds were telling him a lot of informations around the Smp. Easy way to know almost everything.

}*{

Y/N was heading to her house, stepping at Prime Path. In opposite direction she spotted Quackity, slowly walking by from prison direction, which was surprise. She smiled softly to him and he smiled back.

"What's up?" Big Q asked when got closer to her.

"It's good I am coming back home, need to eat and get some nap, and you?"

"I... ended some buisness." His face stiffened and his look became more serious.

Y/N nodded little unsure about his changed emotions. Suddenly she spotted that his sleeve is covered in fresh blood.

"Are you hurt?" She asked worried.

Quckity looked at his shirt as surprised as she and frowned, he checked axe which hanged down from his belt.

"I guess so then, but I don't know where did that come from."

"Let me take care of this." Y/N suggested with warm smile. "My home is closer than Las Nevadas."

After a few moments he nodded in agreement. They together headed to her place. Weather started to become stormy, dark cloud covered the sun, threating to start raining.

Then went inside, but when she was closing door, feeling of being watched hit her with dubled strength. House was in the spine forest, but fenced and had a gate. In filed were some farms, trees and small garden, but everything seemed to look normal. Big Q sat on the couch in living room and Y/N brought bandages, water in bowl and even healing potion. He rose sleeve, wound wasn't long, but deep, something cut his arm, probably weapon.

"It doesn't look good, but you will be okay." She said after looking at cut.

"Good." He sighed with relief.

"What did make it? Do you have an idea?"

Big Q looked dead in her eyes and remained silence. Of course he knew what, but he didn't even noticed the wound before leaving the prison. Well, someone will pay for this.

"Maybe working at Las Nevadas, you know... I am still building there." He spoke after a while.

"Oh... ye you have right, but be careful next time." Y/N suggested and started to work on cut carefuly. Starting on cleaning, then gently bandaged it.

"Thank you." Big Q said after seeing the results.

"No problem, just don't walk around with untreated wound." Y/N giggled softly.

He stood up and moved his eyes on windows. Black clouds didn't go away, even became worse.

"I will go now, weather is getting worse, I want to be in home before storm." Big Q said with soft smile.

"Of course, see you next time."

After he left, big storm came, darkness fell upon the Smp, rain and wind were too strong, for coming outside. Y/N decieded to take a chance and nap. She baked some cookies and sit down on a couch with another book, which Phil borrowed her. Only the torches gave light, sometimes thunderbolt stroke and filled room with unatural blue light. Drops hit hardly, making loud sounds, but Y/N was too much into a book. Two hours has passed and slowly night was coming. She moved eyes to meet clock, yep that was supper time, put the book away and up, Gods thr storm didn't let go. Y/N watched for a while outside, then go to kitched. She grabbed blanket and wrapped it around her posture, damn there were cold.

Again feeling of being watched kicked in. She was alone at home, that was sure thing. Outside was deep dark and behind the windows was the wall of the water. Y/N bite her lip and shook head, it was just her imagination, a feeling which stayed for no reason after putting Dream into Pandora's Vault. She took an kettle and suddenly was seeing something in the corner of the eye, something red and unusual in the spine forest. Her figure frozen when she moved back eyes. Deep in the dark, around sprouce trees in the line of forest, Y/N spotted pair of shinning, red eyes, high above the ground. They were locked at her figure.

'This has to be spider... or something else...'

Right after this thought, ceature turned back and disappeard in the darkness, cold shiver went down at Y/N spine. What was that? And why it was here? At least she was safe in home...

}*{

'More.' 'Training is boring, let's find someone to fight.' 'We demand blood.'

Technoblade sighed and stopped, voices today were very, very loud. That was why he decided to train, but during it, they became even worse. He hid sword and walked into home. Phil wasn't here today, he had to do something, but didn't bother to tell him what it was. Blade went back to home by his old path through the forest. His training place was near the cottage, but still hidden from common people. All members of Syndicate knew where it was. First of all he need to take shower. When cold water touched his skin, he felt like even his bloodlust became less, quiet hiss left his lips. He earned some chafings this week. Next, he changed his clothes to common and made a cup of tea, then sit in the kitchen. Immediately his thoughts went to Y/N.

Somehow voices were acting diffrent around her and he even found himself acting that way. They were focused around Y/N and he was more calm, like just her pressence was comforting him. Technoblade remembered their first meeting, it was common day, when someone knocked on the door. He opened it and rose his eyebrows in surprise, outside was standing fragile woman, without any armor and only with trident on her back. They shared awkward eye contact, when suddenly she introduced herself as Y/N. Of course he saw her couple of times, but it wasn't officialy. Y/N has known who was he for sure, she swallowed hard and looked down with shyness. Phil yelled across the room, that she could come in. Ah yes... she loved to read books and his old friend was borrowing her them a lot. Technoblade again felt the spine and old papers smell, for him, it could stay here forever. After short visit, Y/N took books, gave back book of enchantment and left.

Techno's curiosity has increased, when he heard about her more. She was peaceful, friendly soul, completly opposite of him, maybe that was, why he felt so... diffrent around her and voices too. Piglin hybrid enjoyed watching her from the distance, in the shadows, but lately... lately it wasn't enough. Now he wanted to breathe at Y/N scent, holding her close and pressed soft kisses at forehead. He was under voices pressure so long and now his salvation was so close. But what would he make it? As longer he has thought of that, a diffrent ideas came to his head. She was delicate creature, he had to get plan at all. Techno knew almost everything about her: hobbies, traditions, friends and fighting skills. Phil told him a lot about enchanters, they could make enchanting books after years of studying and had magic talent sometimes. As they knew, Y/N could enchant books at any spell, so she had to studied a lot. Technoblade sighed and grabbed his cloak, time to keep an eye on few things.

'Let's not go quietly!' 'Let's go quiet as grave...' 'Blood for the Blood God!'

}*{

That was busy week, Y/N could only one time saw Foolish and Phil, but whole Smp seemed a little bit diffrent... luckily she was able to go on mining trip with Ranboo and Eret visited her with a couple of books, which were about Smp. Now was afternoon and sun slowly started to set, she was heading to her house, where waited for her snow fox, which she found in Snowchester. Cute, little ball of fur stole Y/N heart immediately. When she finally stepped inside, Snowflake - that how she named it, ran into her squeaking high.

"What happend my little one?" She knelt down and pet it's head.

Fox looked at her with big brown eyes and squeaked once more, then jump into her arms.

"Oh oh oh... are you afraid of something?" Y/N hugged Snowflake and looked around. Everything in home seemed normal, door was closed, in a field same, animals were quite nervous, but everything was good. She frowned and stepped inside, then put fox into basket with small blanket.

"I will bring you some berries, you will like it for sure." Y/N smiled gently.

Unfortunately, she didn't have any at this moment in home, Snowflake was there only for three days, so she couldn't make berries farm so fast, because she had to set up a space. Luckily, she lived around coniferous forest, so didn't even hesiatate, Y/N just grabbed backpack and went outside. Sun was lower in the sky, but still it was warm and brightly. Birds were humming quietly and around was quite quiet. Berries bush weren't so far, she founed some, but in order to make supplies, decided to find more, then plant them around the house. It would spared the time and work.

"Y/N." She heard deep, lazy voice and immediately turned at it's direction.

The Blade was standing under big sprouce tree with satisfied grinn on his lips. Eyes locked on Y/N figure, which completly froze at the sight of him. She have never been with him alone, in tundra always Phil or Ranboo were around, now it felt... strange and risky, she still remembered what happend to La'Manburg citizens.

"Technoblade." Y/N spoke softly, being careful to not crack her voice, despite building feeling of fear. She noticed, that piglin hybrid under his royal, crimson cloak was wearing armor, probably not his best one, but still enough to win fight. Part of hair made into bun, rest were freely in his back and shoulders. From his belt was hanging netherite sword and netherite axe was sticking out from behind. She spotted, that his weapons were a little covered in blood, same as his sleeves and parts of shirt. He was killing monsters right? Or just hunting? Uncomfortable, awkward silence reminded between them, only forest noises distrubed it from time to time.

Voices were too loud today, too agressive, too greedy, killing monsters and pillagers wasn't enough, Quackity has already tasted his steel, well he deserved that after showing up in Y/N home. He had so much fun with him, but after that he needed some rest, comfort and calm. That is why without even thinking too much Technoblade went straight to Y/N house. He hoped, that everything will change, that he finally will has some break from voices, violence and killing. Of course he liked his way to be... but yes sometimes, you have to make a nap.

"Are you wounded?" Y/N asked quietly breaking the silence. After all, if he needed help, she would help him, without hesitation.

Technoblade's grinn became more sinister, he put hand on sword hilt and slowly tilted his head on right side.

"This isn't my blood." He said without caring at all.

"Oh, that's good then..." Y/N whispered, but he could hear that.

Piglin hybrid studied her posture, she had only trident at her back, backpack in left hand, no armor, no more weapons. Poor little girl, that's not how you are going outside your home, she was literally unarmed in his eyes.

"So... what are you doing here? Alone? In the forest?" Technoblade asked and moved closer to her.

The way he spoke these words, made Y/N shiver inside, outside, she grabbed her backpack harder. Surely there was nothing to worry about, she has never done something wrong to him or Philza, she wasn't dangerous or wanted to has any power. Techno is probably just passing by. Suddenly he was so close, now she could for real see the height diffrence, for the gods sake, her head reached around his breastbone. Y/N looked up only to meet piglin hybrid's burning gaze.

"I... I was collecting berries for my snow fox. Something scared her, so I thought that she will calm down after getting some and I ran out of them..." she suttered and swallow hard.

"How sweet." Technoblade commented and his smile widened.

"So... you are just passing by?"

"Not really."

Sudden grip on her chin caught Y/N off guard. Technoblade forced her to look straight into his eyes. His face stiffened a little bit, she hissed quietly, when claws touched harder gentle skin. Then she realised... Blade's eyes were red and she heard, that it could glow in darkness. Her skin became pale and pupils widened. It was him, that time during a storm, he was watching her...

"What are you doing?" Y/N asked quietly, without any clue, what was going on.

'She is so innocent.' 'We love her scent.' 'Let her know.'

"I have something to tell you." He leaned and immediately her scent hit him harder, resisting to take deep breath wasn't that easy.

"What excatly?"

"I was watching you for a while Y/N. Belive me or not I found that interesting, because your pressence is calming for me, I can fall asleep while listening your voice and push away my violence behaviour, when you are around." He stroked her cheek by his thumb and smiled haughty. "I am always getting , what I want and I want that so badly, you can't even imagine."

Y/N shook head and made few steps back, leaving his grip, couldn't belive what she just heard. That's impossible.

"I don't know what to say... I can admit, that I had strange feeling of being watching but... I blamed the Egg..." She looked deep into his eyes, trying to put everything together. "What do you mean, you are always getting, what are you want? How am I suppose to understand that?"

"Listen sweetheart, we can do this in two diffrent ways: good or bad. If you choose first one, fine politely you will go with me. Second way? Well I can be very convincing, when I want to." Technoblade frowned.

None of this options was good for her. Y/N sighed and her shoulders dropped. She couldn't do anything literally...

"Come on princess. I can take care of you, I promise, you will be happy." He gave her his hand, but gripped sword hilt harder.

Y/N always avoided the conflicts and argues, never has started any, that was easier and better way to live. She could take care of her interests, powers anf friends by being supportive or neutral. Technoblade's behaviour made her shiver and feel sick, there was no guarantee that he will keep his words, even if it were sweet and promising. Y/N knew that fighting him was pointlees, he were ten thousand better than her, she didn't even have armor or second weapon. But surrender just like that? Without any resistance? She always was determinated, miss 'you can always find a way, solution'. Not a chance.

"I think I have better option, which lay in the middle." Y/N smiled gently.

"Well, tell me then." Technoblade rose his eyebrows with curiosity.

With one smooth move, she put backpack on and immediately started to run. The Blade's pupils widened, he burst out laughing.

"It will be funny."

She has known, that she needed to lose him in forest. Going to home wouldn't help, because door or gate couldn't stop Blood God. Lost him and then ran away from Smp, at least her current living location. Y/N realized that she couldn't even ask for help anyone. Probably Technoblade would come after her friends, helpers, so that was it. Y/N versus The Blade, she was on her own.

'How did she dare to run away from us?!' 'Chase her, catch her.' 'Faster, faster, faster!'

It seemed like running away from Tommy for fun, came in handy and long trips with Ranboo caused her to move fast through forest. Y/N nimbly jumped over obstacles and avoid rocks or roots. Her pace wasn't the fastes, but she could hold it for pretty long time. She wasn't thinking a lot, just tried to run away as far as she could.

'Don't look back, don't look back, it will make you slower.'

Hiding could be good idea, but not now. As long as he was close, she couldn't stop at all. Breaking through the forest was only hearing noise, soon, she heard her heavy breathing. Heading to unknown direction wasn't so wisely, but Y/N had no choice. After a few minutes, she stopped to catch breath. Around was sudden so quiet, cold shiver went down at her spine. Too quiet.

"Already tired?" Technoblade's voice surprised her from left side.

She turned head, just to see him leaning against the tree. In his right hand he held sword, didn't even look like he was running.

"You can't outrun me little one. A lot of people tried, now they are dead." He aimed sword at her. "We can end this farce here. I am not mad, honestly, you made me smile a little bit."

"You will have to catch me, if you want me going with you." Y/N said and then continue to run away.

"Oh I will princess, that's what predator does to the prey."

Y/N started to feel really tired, muscles aching, throat dry from gasping for air, hair dispelled and cheeks red. She ran for a while, but now had to stop. Technoblade immediately appeared in her field of vision. He was walking carefuly, but still looked intimidating.

"Don't come closer!" She released a cry.

Piglin hybrid stopped about eight meters away. He leaned sword against the ground and looked at her with curious gaze.

'Here she is, our reward.' 'Let's finally take her with us.' 'We like that sound.'

"I think, I just caught you." A little grinn appeared on his lips.

She looked straight into his eyes. Her gaze full of fear met a calm and determination. Y/N didn't even want to think what would happend, if he fulfilled his desires. Gods sake, she was free human being, none could take her freedom, she didn't ask for this. In an act of desperation, with the last of her strength, she used her powers. Feeling of warm through fingers and energy drained from her veins, but then burning light. In Technoblade's towards direction flew literally fireball, but he was too skilled for this. He made a dodge and looked at Y/N with mix of proud and shock. She dropped to her knees, struggling to stay conscious, despite the pain at her whole body and tired mind and unclear vision. Technoblade immediately was with her, he knelt down and support her, by putting arm around her waist. Y/N leaned back against his chest, fatigue prevailed over reason.

"Enough for today princess. You run out, if you will keep resisting." He whispered calmly.

"Please, please... please I don't want this, I want to go home." Her voice was cracking, tears strimming down at her cheeks.

"Hush darling, everything will be all right."

Technoblade's body radiated warm, his tone suddenly was so calming and sleepy. She wanted to close eyes so badly, but still fear was too big.

"You are safe, nothing can hurt you I promise."

After this words Y/N gave up and lost consciousness. Sun went down and shadows became longer and darker.

}*{

Phil careful closed the doors, then walked quietly down. Technoblade sat in kitchen with cup of hot tea, he immediately looked at his old friend, his eyes were worrying.

"Y/N is good, she lost consciousness, because was too tired. You said that, she used her powers."

"It was literally fireball, but I dodge that easy."

"Well, now we know about her powers at least... interesting, what you are going to do, when she wake up?" Phil asked and sat in opposite site.

"I know, that you are not glad about this, but I will figure this out. She won't cause any troubles." Techno's voice became deeper.

Winged man sighed and looked at his friend. He knew what he was going through, when voices became louder and demanded blood, each moment of silence or when they were quiet, Technoblade cherished and tried to make it worth. Phil couldn't be angry or mad for his friend about that deed, but... he was torn.

"Come on spit it out. I can see that you want to tell something important." Piglin hybrid said slowly.

"We were through a lot of shit, we know each other for almost ages and we blew up the nation for gods sake, kidnapping isn't the worst thing you have done, but..." Phil started and looked at Techno. "I wish you best and everything good, but I don't know how will I act around. Y/N has come to me for books, we were talking about stuff, I gave her cookies and tea. How will I explain, that I am supporting your decision? And I am always on your side." Phil said aloud his worries.

"I will give her time to get used to. After certain amount of time Y/N will understand." The Blade was lost in his thoughts.

He was so greatful of his friend statement, but still a little bit unsure. This case shloudn't affect on their relationship or Phil's life. Honestly Technoblade belived that his pressence will comfort Y/N at least, as he said they were close and enjoyed each other company.

"Someone will notice her disappering. What then? And Ranboo is visiting us a lot." Phil sighed a little.

"I've got this, trust me."

"I trust you with my own life." Winged man nodded.

}*{

Sunlight kissed her skin gently, when it showed up on window. Y/N felt softness under herself and on her back. Quiet sigh left her lips, when she opened eyes. In the room was very bright, but for sure it wasn't her room. Immediately cold shiver went down at her spine. Still weak, she tried to lift herself, because she was lying on stomach. Bed was big, with good beddings and pillows.

"Don't move, you are still weak." Technoblade's voice was soft, but loud.

Y/N bite her lip and then lifted head. He was standing near the bed and observing curiously, looking completly diffrent. White, linen shirt and high waisted, leather trousers, hair braided tighly. In this version he was... more open and accessible, not so scary.

"Where am I?" She asked slowly and rolled at her back with quiet hiss. Muscles still hurt and throat was dry.

"In my house, in tundra safe and..." He cut off, while noticed that Y/N is trying to get up. "What did I say?" He stepped closer and sat on bed.

She sat unsure on mattress, just to met Technoblade here, he gripped again her chin, as in the forest and forced her to look at him. This time it was more gently.

"Darling please..."

"You can't take my freedom!"

His eyes darkened immediately and Y/N regreted her words. She swallowed hard, when Blade looked deep into her eyes.

"Of course I can and I will, if you don't behave good. If you didn't notice, you aren't chained or tied, but pretty comfy in my bed." He said slowly with threat in his voice. "Think about it."

Technoblade released her and got up. She looked down thinking about situation, yes he didn't tied her, but still it wasn't good case. Y/N just wanted to be free, do stuff which she want and meet friends. Maybe Smp wasn't perfect, but still now it was her home, there were a lot of wars or argues, but she still had house and persons which she cared about and this was mutual, now everything was unsure.

"I am just afraid... " Y/N whispered quietly.

"As I said earlier you are safe here, you are safe with me. Nothing can hurt you." Techno grabbed bowl with soup and came back. "Here, eat, you need to recover."

"Thanks." She smiled weakly to him, took bowl and started to eat slowly.

'Good girl.' 'She will behave for sure.' 'We can teach her a lesson.'

Y/N was napping for the rest of the day, Technoblade gave her one of their books, so she wasn't bored. Probably tomorrow or next day she will stand up.

The sound of closing doors, caused her to closed book and put it away. Piglin smiled gently and took off his shirt suddenly. Y/N eyes became big.

"Wait wait wait..."

"Calm down princess, I am just going to sleep, nothing else." Technoblade smirked for her panic.

"So... where shloud I move?" Y/N asked looking around the room.

"Nowhere. You are staying here with me."

Immediately her cheeks went slighty red. She looked at him curiously. His pink skin seemed gentle from the distance, a lot of scars marked his chest and arms. Some of them little, some of them large, the biggest one was through both sides of chest. Technoblade released his hair and came closer. Y/N moved to make him some space. He laid down, she followed his steps but remain distance.

"Goodnight." She said and turned back from him.

"Goodnight sweetheart."

He blow up torches near the bed and silence fell upon them. Not even a five minutes passed, when Y/N felt sudden grip on her waist. She froze, Technoblade hugged her and pressed kiss on her shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Quiet whisper left her lips.

"Snuggling and cuddling." He whispered softly.

Y/N couldn't help, she giggled quietly. Techno took this as premission, her back touched his chest and second hand slowly stroked her hair.

#c!techno x you #dsmp fandom #dream smp #philza #c!technoblade x you #c!technoblade x reader #c!techno #yandere dream smp x reader #yandere dream smp x you #yandere #c!yandere!technoblade #yandere technoblade x reader

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cinebration · 3 years

Text

Too Young (Forrest Bondurant x Reader) [Request]

I’m fine thank you can I describe my request because there is a no word for this at least i dont know I’m 21 so if you include this in imagine i will be really happy i love forrest bondurant he is shy caring strong and little bit mad giant bear a i want it fluffy and little bit angst I thought forrest wouldn’t want to love younger than him. I hope i can tell what i request because english not my native thank you so much again not much forrest imagine i really love this — Requested by @shooterere

This turned into something more than I expected. I had fun!

Warnings: none

Gif Source: fandomfatale

Pa operated one of the smaller bootlegging businesses in the county, but the moonshine he made was worth a hundred of the bottles being churned out by other operations in the immediate vicinity. People paid good money for your pa’s moonshine, though you wouldn’t know it to look at you and your family.

You lived in a ramshackle house on the edge of a farm known for producing one good crop for every five. You had just as many siblings, all of them younger than you, racing around the house like demons and driving both you and your beleaguered mother to wits’ end. So when Pa asked you to make a delivery, on account that the oldest of your brothers was a scant fourteen, and the fact that no one would stop you, you leapt at the opportunity. You put on your Sunday best, though it wasn’t much, and drove the old beat-up Ford truck down the country road into town.

It was there you met Forrest Bondurant. He operated the gas station you pulled up to after you delivered the moonshine. The smell of pie wafting from inside the restaurant behind the station was too good to resist.

He sat alone, his hat resting on the table in front of him. Glancing up when you entered, his brow furrowed as you slowly walked through the restaurant and up to the counter. You ordered a slice of the pie and a small cup of coffee, no cream, no sugar.

“This ain’t the watered-downed stuff,” the waitress told you.

“I know.”

The apple pie was thick and rich with apples and cinnamon flavoring. As you sat eating it, you swept your gaze around the room. There weren’t many people inside, but as soon as you fixed on Forrest, all else fell away. He met your eyes levelly, a frown pulling on his mouth. Tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear nervously, you returned to your meal.

He approached you a moment later, the scrape of his chair back against the wooden floor alerting you to his intentions. You swallowed thickly, working up your courage as your heart fluttered with hope.

“You Frost Farm’s oldest?” The way his voice purred made a shiver roll through you even as disappointment followed it. He wasn’t interested in you, only in who your pa was.

“Yeah,” you answered, looking down.

“What are you doin’ here?”

“Making a delivery.”

“Your pa sends you off to do that yourself?”

“My first time today, but he hurt himself, so I figure I’ll be doing it for some time.”

“How’d he hurt himself?”

“He fell,” you lied.

Forrest’s gaze burned through you. Standing firm, you ate the last of the pie and swigged it down with the dregs of the coffee, the bitter mingling with the sweet down your throat. Excusing yourself, you slipped off the stool and kept yourself from sprinting away to the beat of your thumping heart.

Forrest showed up the next day at the farm. You were out in the field, elbow-deep in the dirt, when the truck engine chugged up the dirt road. You recognized it vaguely as one you had seen parked outside the Bondurant gas station. You didn’t see who exited the vehicle.

Turning back to your work, you yanked out another weed and ignored the beating of the sun overhead.

When your stomach rumbled as the sun reached its zenith, you rubbed off the dirt on your apron and headed back inside for lunch. The truck was still parked outside the house.

As you neared the front door, it opened. You froze in your tracks. Forrest Bondurant stepped across the threshold, bidding your parents goodbye with some mumbled words. He paused when he saw you.

“Mr. Bondurant,” you said, nodding nervously.

He nodded back, putting the hat firmly on his head. His gaze swept over you. You became painfully aware of the dirt across your hands and knees and how it stained your apron and dress.

“I’m taking you for your other deliveries,” he mumbled suddenly. “’Til your pa gets better.”

You blinked in surprise, tried to find words. “Thank you.”

He nodded and stepped past you, leaving you stunned on the porch.

The first few deliveries, made in your truck, not Bondurant’s, passed in awkward silence. You didn’t quite mind it so much, if it weren’t for the fact that being nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with the man was sending your senses quite mad. Not even the Franklin boy from the farm next door had made you as deliciously nervous as Forrest did. Your head swam with it.

But the trips after that improved when you began talking to him. You didn’t say too much, because he seemed too quiet to listen to you ramble on. Rather than complain about your siblings or the lack of help for the farm, you focused instead on the moonshine business.

“I dunno know if Pa told you, but we got into trouble with the law,” you said after a delivery. “They wanted our earnings, but Pa told ’em that we don’t have enough to pay. They broke his leg for that.”

“Were you there?”

“Outside, looking between the slats. I waited ’til they were gone before I went in to help Pa.”

Forrest frowned. “Why were you there?”

“I work the stills.”

He fixed you with a stare.

“It’s nothing,” you assured him. “I like the work, honest. It’s very methodical, and I like that.”

Forrest remained silent for the rest of the drive ’til you neared town.

“Show me,” he said.

You hesitated. “But you’re the competition.”

“I won’t steal your secrets. I just want to see.”

You wanted to show him, to impress him, but the idea of the Bondurants taking over your stills or trying to use your methods nagged at you. The desire to please him won out. You turned the car toward the farm and drove well past it, deep into the woods extending beyond it. Then you hooked a right and stopped the truck.

From there, you walked Forrest all the way down into a small ravine that led to a cave in the hill swelling behind it. The cave smelled cool and a bit damp, but you had remedied that with some techniques to moderate the temperature. Forrest made a circuit of the room, eyeing your still critically as you walked him through parts of your process.

“Figure we could make gin this way eventually, too,” you said, “when they lift the Prohibition.”

He looked at you keenly.

“They’ll do it,” you assured him. “Otherwise we’ll have ourselves another war.”

He grunted noncommittally and took a swig from a nearby bottle, testing the quality of the moonshine. The soft light from the oil lamp you had lit bathed his face in warm golds. Caught up by the vision, you reached out and gently touched his cheek.

He froze, turned woodenly to you. The guarded look in his eyes discouraged you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“You’re too young.”

“I’m twenty-one.”

He shook his head.

Frustration welled up within you. You glanced up at him, your hand clenching into a fist at your side. “Too young. Too female. Too fragile. You sound like every other man I’ve ever talked to.”

He blinked in surprise, taken aback by your sudden emotion.

“I can do more than you think I can, and I’m not that fragile. I’ve had to grow up fast, because Ma’s too weak and Pa’s not got enough boys yet to help him.” You grabbed his hand suddenly, pressed his palm flat against yours. “Feel that? I don’t have soft hands. Those are working hands. When I’m not in the fields, I’m in here, making the best goddamn moonshine in the county. I don’t have time, you see, to waste on being young.”

Forrest stared into your face as the wind died out of you. You turned away, suddenly embarrassed by the outburst. “Get out of my workshop.”

He didn’t even hesitate. He walked right of the cave. You waited fifteen minutes before realizing that it was rude to let him walk all the way back to town on foot. You raced to the truck and drove down the road until you found him lumbering across the dirt. You drew up beside him and wordlessly opened the door. He hesitated before climbing up into the cab.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

You felt his eyes on you the entire drive, as though he were trying to keep you rooted to the spot. At last, you arrived at the gas station.

“You don’t come with me on deliveries anymore,” you said.

He didn’t get out of the car. “Who else has said those things to you?”

“What things?”

“About you being too weak.”

You shrugged. “Everyone. Probably your own damned brothers, for all I know. ‘Waste of a pretty face, making that girl work the fields. She ought to be providing a family.’ But I like the work. I like working.”

The cab filled with silence as Forrest stared out the windshield at the dark restaurant. Exhaustion settled in your bones from the emotional outburst and the pain of rejection.

“If you worked here,” Forrest said suddenly,” your hands wouldn’t be so rough.”

You frowned. “But I don’t work here.”

“I could get someone to work for your pa on the farm,” he continued in a low rumble. “And you could work here and your workshop.”

“Are you offering me a job?”

He grunted.

“Why?”

He shifted uneasily on the seat. “To keep you around, if you won’t let me make deliveries with you.”

The pieces didn’t quite fit together. “Why would you want to keep me around? I’m too young, you said.”

“I did,” he agreed.

“Then why?”

He fixed his eyes on you with a look that said, Do I really have to say it?

You met his gaze for a long while before slowly nodding, feeling something like hope flutter in your chest again. He nodded back, grunted quietly, and wished you a good night as he climbed out of the car.

#Forrest Bondurant x Reader #Forrest Bondurant #Forrest Bondurant imagine #Tom Hardy x Reader #Tom Hardy #Tom Hardy imagine #Lawless #requests

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coffeecakefanfics · 3 years

Text

A moments glance | B.B x Fem!Reader

Requests are open!!!!!

Summary: Bucky misses the feeling of human connection, both emotional and physical, so does Y/N. After a particularly brutal mission the two can deny their want any longer

Warnings: Language, angst? SMUT! (probably badly written but oh well) This fic is a lot longer than I wanted but it’s worth it I promise.

Missions are normally pretty easy. Luckily it was the dream team that got stuck on this mission together. Sam, Bucky, and Y/n stood around a base layout, making a plan as to how to get this mission to sail smoothly. It was a simple job, repo a plane that had been stolen and return it to the owners, aka the fucking US Military.

“So Y/n has pilot knowledge so if we can get through the fence and to it she can fly it back here to base, easy,” Sam explained the plan to the soldiers.

“Sam and Bucky will go with me as my second hands and eyes, be my body guards,” Y/n nodded and looked up. “This is an easy job so it shouldn’t take long, maybe a couple hours, but stay on standby in case force is needed,” the woman stood straight and tapped her fingers on the table. The crew split into the groups, taking their places. Sam sat in the drivers seat of the car while Y/n sat in the front and Bucky was stuck in the back.

“We’re here, everyone ready?” Sam asked and threw the car in park.

“Are we ever ready?” Bucky snarked and stepped out. The three were greeted by a fence with barbed wire across the top.

“Can we break it down?” Bucky looked between the two.

“That my dear would be destruction of property, a charge none of us can afford right now,” She huffed and opened the backseat, pulling the floor mat out.

“What the hell are you doing with that?” Sam looked at the girl as if she was crazy.

“Throwing the mat over the wire?” she furrowed her brow and tossed the mat over the fence and scaled it.

“Coming? or am I leaving you two dummies for the birds?” she smirked.

“Ha ha very funny,” Sam snarked back.

“This guy,” she smiled playfully at Bucky, who in return smiled back, a small one, but a smile.

“There she is, look at this beauty,” Y/n motioned to the plane. The three climbed in, starting the engine.

“Bucky once we’re in the air I want you to contact the air force and tell them their plane is on it’s way,” she spoke calmly as she started down the runway. She was setting up controls when Bucky’s voice broke their silence.

“Uh guys? I think we got company,” a black SUV sped down the runway, stopping before two guys stepped out wielding guns.

“Pull up!” Sam yelled the girl.

“I’m trying,” she yelled back, the plane getting closer before finally taking off. The firing followed them up into the air.

“Looks like we’re clear,” Y/n took a breath.

“There’s probably a reason they didn’t want us taking the plane,” Bucky commented.

“If I had to guess, drugs, I mean the air force tests flights so much that nobody bats an eye, especially at fort carson,” the woman nodded. “Sam can you check all of the compartments?” she looked back at him.

“Yeah, of course,” he tipped his head and began opening the compartments lining the walls, bags of cocaine spilled out of an overhead bin.

“Oh shit, that’s thousands of dollars worth of hard drugs right there,” she peered back at the mess.

“yeah no shit, what do we do?”

“Get on the comms and alert them of what’s happening”

“on it”

The blaring sound took over their voices.

“What the hell is going on?” Bucky asked

“We’re losing altitude, buckle in for a crash landing”

“I’m sorry what?!”

“Do it!” she barked “Sam jump and get to the base, let them know what happened, go now!” she was barking orders at them.

“I’ll hurry back” Sam called and jumped, catching wind just in time.

“So what are we just going to die?”

“No, not if I can help it. But we are going to have to drop into the mountains, so hold on to something,” she gave him a sympathetic look. The plane crashed down into the mountain, losing the wings in the process. The two climbed out, seemingly unharmed.

“So what are we just going to sit here and wait?” Bucky looked at the girl.

“I’m afraid so, we can’t risk moving, they won’t find us,” she huffed and slumped against an aspen tree.

“Great,” Bucky huffed and sat across from her, against a fallen pine log. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, the ringing in their ears taking over.

“Have you ever been this far west?” Y/n asked. Bucky peeked up at her. Sighing he tossed a rock to his left.

“No, at least, not that I can recall,” he looked back at the dirt.

“It’s pretty, Pikes peak is worth the view, if you ever get to go,” she cleared her throat, awkwardness settling in.

“You been?”

“Yeah, I uh, I grew up here, in springs, that’s why I knew about the fort carson stuff. They always test fly and they take kids for rides sometimes. also teach kids how to pilot when they reach a certain age,” she trailed off.

“Military brat?”

“Yeah”

“I never knew that,” he looked at her, really looked at her. He noticed how she sat with her knees up, but her shoulders slumped. Her she chewed on the inside of her lip.

“I never really told anyone,” she shrugged,”You know we have worked on the same team for I don’t know how many years and yet I feel like I hardly know you,” she remarked. Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I don’t really open up to people, it’s not something I do,” it was his turn to chew on his lip.

“I get it, you up walls, try and protect yourself. . .”she trailed off, a soft rustling in the brush caught her attention. She held her finger to her lips and slowly stood, Bucky following her move. The two crouched and ducked behind some bush.

“They couldn’t have gotten far, move,” a mans voice barked. Y/n looked at Bucky with wide eyes. Bucky scanned the are before nodding to a path, they crept their way over, carful not to make too much noise. One they had gotten far enough away they stood straight and starting sprinting.

“The guys that hijacked the plane?” She asked.

“That’s my guess,” he shrugged.

“Bucky I need to stop,” she panted, trying to catch her breath.

“We’re probably far enough away,” he slowed to a stop.

“I’m sorry,” she took a ragged breath

“It’s fine, not all of us are, what do you like to say? built different,” he cracked a smile. Y/n smiled back at him before they broke off into laughter.

“You remembered that dumb saying?”

“I try to remember them all, I’m trying to make my place in this world, and if that means learning the lingo then I guess I have to”

“Must be hard,” she stood next to him, “trying to get used to this”

“you have no ide-” a gunshot and a scream of pain cut him off. His eyes shot in the direction of the shot before landing on the girl, crumpled on the forest floor.

“Shit” he scooped her up and started sprinting west.

“Shit shit shit, hey doll, if you can hear me keep your eyes open you hear,” he peeked down at her. She was clutching her stomach.

“Tell me something, tell me about, tell me about your house of a kid,” he scrambled to find anything to talk about.

“yellow,” she breathed,” it was yellow” He caught sight of a cave and ducked into it.

“keep going”

“It had, two floors and an attic, the uh, the upstairs had a balcony,” she took deep breaths. Bucky pulled out a knife and cut the bottom of his shirt, putting pressure on his wound.

“Bucky?” she looked at him as close as she could

“yeah?”

“What was your favorite part about the forties?”

He laughed. “The stupid dive bars, going dancing,” he thought for a second.

“Were you any good?” Y/n teased.

“Oh please, look at me, I was the best,” he said, jokingly cocky. The silence took over. The only sound was a ragged breath every now and then. Y/n Held her phone up.

“Nothing,” she felt tears well up in her eyes.

“Bucky?” She got his attention.

“yeah Y/n? what’s up?”

“If i’m going to die today, can I at least get to know you before I go?” she asked

“Listen to me, and you listen to me good, you ain’t dying today got it?” he spoke sharply, but with concern laced and weaved in his voice.

“In my jacket is a pack of matched, I saw some twigs and pinecones at the opening of the cave, grab them, make a fire, please, i’m freezing,” she pleaded. Bucky didn’t say anything as he obliged. The small fire illuminated the walls, but was small enough that they wouldn’t be spotted. Bucky sat across from Y/n, he watched as she scanned the walls.

“Mica,” she spoke plainly.

“Yeah, ton of the shit too,” he kind of huffed, looking around.

“They used to make windows out of it, for cars and shit, also dry wall, but most importantly it used for stuff like spark plugs,and electronic components like compasses during world war 2 ” she stated, half heartedly. Bucky looked at the girl shocked.

“Yeah, thats- how’d you know that?”

“Grandpa fought in the war, told me all kinds of stories before he passed, also taught me about minerals and stuff before he passed too, he and dad used to take me camping, they’d teach me how to hunt, farm, fish, find and purify water, which berries and shrooms are good to eat, case I ever got lost,” she laughed and winced at the pain. “I miss them,” she sighed.

“Those are good skills to have,” Bucky smiled at her. He went silent. It had been a few hours, no sign of anyone. He looked at Y/n, she didn’t look great, she was pale, she was growing tired. He didn’t want her to be miserable, or to die not knowing him.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, I was born March 10th 1917, I have a younger sister named Rebecca, we called her Becca,” He spoke up. Y/n looked at him with a smile and nodded him on to continue, “I’ve always wanted a cat, and if I could have kids i’d want a daughter, I’d name her Scarlett,” he stammers on. The young woman listens attentively. Her breathing became slower, more strained.

“no no no, don’t fucking die on me,” he jumped over to her, clutching her wound. “Please, I barley know you, I want to know more,” he pleaded. She smiled at him and held her blood soaked hand to his cheek.

“thank you,” she husked before her eyes rolled back.

“No!” he yelled.

“Bucky?!” Sam, it was Sam, and the air force. Bucky was pulled away as they loaded Y/n onto the chopper and raced her back to base. Hot tears slipped down his face as the world seemed to slow down. His connection, the one person he started to open up to was ripped from his arms, just as the walls came tumbling down.

He sat pacing the hospital room, her body laid limp in the bed, unmoving, just as it had for the past two days. The nurses tried to get him to go home, but after the third shift change and his protests to stay after visiting hours they gave up. He stared out the window, looking to the mountains, they were still capped with snow. He remembers her saying she was freezing, he recognizes that feeling now. Cold, unmoving, dead.

“Hey champ,” a hoarse voice spoke in the room. He spun on his heels, Her eyes were opened, still droopy from the pain killer, but opened.

“Thank god you’re okay,” he yanked a chair beside her and clutched her hand.

“I should’ve believed you,” she cracked a smile, Bucky felt his eyes well. Why? He still barely knew her.

“My name is Y/n L/n I was born (your birthday), I have no siblings, I have always wanted a dog and if I had a kid i’d want a little boy named Matthew,” she squeezed his hand slightly.

“Good morning,” another womans voice broke the room with a knock. “I’m your nurse for this morning, my name is Sarah Good, yes like the book the crucible and i’ll take care of you till 7 tonight,” she smiled at the two brightly. “Todays agenda, always will be on the board, we want to get you to be able to be in a sitting position, and we want to start PT, or physicsl therapy if we can, We’re going to try and get you a real lunch today, and if we’re lucky you can get off those iv’s by tomorrow”

The last week was rough, But Bucky sat beside her through it all, they talked about life, about death, the world, every little thing they could think of. When she was released it was Bucky who escorted her back across the country to home. Sam met them at her apartment for diner and a toast to a job not so smooth for the dream team, now stronger that all three had a bond. Sam had left about an hour ago, Bucky insisted on staying to help clean up.

“Bucky, really this is too much to ask, it’s fine,”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s the least I can do”

“It’s late, do you want to stay? I mean I can take the couch and you can take my bed it-”

“I’m not taking your bed doll, I’ll take the couch if you really want me to stay but it’s not a problem for me to go home,” he smiled at her and set the last plate in the dish washer.

“I kind of got used to you staying around,” she blushed. “We can watch a movie?” she offered.

“Sounds great”

They weren’t paying attention to the movie, well at least they pretended to, Each watched the other out of the corner of their eyes. It was Y/n who made the first move, leaning her head on his shoulder, Bucky tucked his arm around the woman, inching her closer. She felt her face get hot, she peered up at him to find him looking back, they ripped their eyes apart and both went flush.

“Bucky-

Y/n I-” they spoke at the same time, letting out a laugh.

“Go first,” he insisted.

“No, it’s fine,” she stammered.

“Y/n I- I really like you, I’m glad I let down my walls for you,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. She felt her breath hitch.

“I was going to say the same thing,” she spoke, barely above a whisper. It hadn’t occurred to the couple just how close they were to each other. Y/n felt Bucky’s breath dance across her face.

“Can I. . . can I kiss you?” he breathed out. She sim-ply nodded and met his lips, soft and delicate at first before he set his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in. Her lips were intoxicating, he could get drunk on her. She let a moan slip as he pulled her into his lap gently. He felt his eyes roll at the sound. She ground into his lap, letting the feeling of his growing bulge tease her. She laced her fingers in his short hair, gently tugging where she could, causing a groan and for him to buck his hip to meet hers. Y/n pulled back panting, trying to catch her breath before moving her lips to meet his neck.

“Y/n doll, I uh- it’s been a while,” he panted and fought the moans that threatened to leave his throat.

“It’s okay, let me take care of you?” she caught his eyes. Her face was pure, innocent, but her words were laced with lust. He nodded and let his hands grip her hips. She tugged his shirt off of his body, decorating his chest with kisses, working and inching her way to his hips. She looked up at him, he was a mess, head laid back, breathing ragged. She carefully undid his pants and slid them down his legs. catching the skin above his hip bones she left a small purple mark on either side, claiming him as hers. He had looked down at her now, catching her eyes. She licked her lips before taking him into her mouth, The moan he let rip from vocal cords was ungodly.

“Fuck, doll I -” he let his eyes meet hers, still laced with innocence, before groaning and throwing his head back. He let his air out in puffs as she worked him over. Her touch was delicate and sweet, he forgot how nice it felt, to be taken care of, to be treated with kindness. She let her fingers slip to cup his balls, gently playing with them as she let her pretty mouth suck his cock. The sight was straight out of a wet dream,

“I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop,” he pleaded, grabbing her hair with his flesh hand, clutching the couch with the metal one. The small breaths he let out only encouraged him further, she picked up her pace, daring him to cum down her throat. A string of fucks and his hips tensing, and slowly relaxing followed soon after. She caught his eyes, swallowing what he gave her and grinning at him.

“Holy-”

“Yeah,” she smiled.

“Let me return the favor baby,” he pulled her back into his lap.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reade

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lune-hime · 3 years

Text

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 1

https://lune-hime.tumblr.com/masterlist

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

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

Tulipa Estella Rijnveld ~ A tulip whose soft white petals are stained with a crimson pigment.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

The putrid sounds of screaming and bones cracking were gradually soaked up by the trees and replaced by the stillness of the evening. The newfound silence of the countryside left an eerie calm over the two scouts but only amplified the ringing in Levi’s ears. The thumping of the horse’s muddy hooves against the hardened spring ground made his head throb as they rode further and further away from the massacre. Any sound was better than nothing, though, otherwise the silence would make him hear their foul cries.

Your pained shrieks.

In his arms you laid limp, the only sign of life was your slight breaths that just barely caressed the bottom of his chin. Whenever it became uneven the ringing in his ears sharpened. He would squeeze your side instinctively, something he would usually do to wake you up when you slept in too late. Only this time instead of your hand in his it was your blood staining his palm. He applied constant pressure to your bleeding side with one hand while the other, white-knuckled and bruised, held the reins. His grip was the only thing that kept him from floating off that damned horse. He was grateful he had lost his horse in the chaos instead of you; you loved the animal too much for Levi’s liking and he knew how devastated you would be when you woke up and it wasn’t there.

Once we get there you better fucking wake up, Y/N.

Levi had somehow managed to stop your bleeding with the piece of his cloak tightly wrapped around your waist combined with the pressure of his hand. This gave him minor peace of mind as you galloped through forest after forest. Emerging from the thicket, the last obstacle blocking your path to safety materialized on the horizon. The towering structure of Wall Rose was baked pale in the waning rays of light, it's untouched bricks proudly protecting those who resided inside. Levi wasted no time in grabbing the guards’ attention the moment he reached the barred gate.

“LET ME IN.” He screamed, his voice scattering the crows that rested on the railing of the wooden lookout post. Though he was extremely winded, his command was firm. There were some muffled curses and the sound of glass shattering before one guard peaked his heads over the edge, making eye contact with Levi’s impatient form below. To say he was startled was an understatement.

“C-captain Levi?” He called out in disbelief. The guard looked from the captain to the limp body in his arms, eyes widening in shock when he saw the remnants of your profuse bleeding.

“Captain Levi is here?” Another voice slurred from behind the first guard. A second soldier appeared, rushing over to lean heavily on the railing and gawk in awe.

“Hey, Captain! What are you doing all the way here at Krolva? What an honor, do you have a minute? My niece is a big fan and if I could get your autograph I’m sure she would really appreci-” He rambled excitedly before being cut off by a brisk slap from his comrade. He stumbled from the railing with a groan, clutching the back of his head in pain.

“Are yer eyes still workin’? Can’t you see he’s a little busy for that. He’s riding with a wounded soldier, idiot.” His more sober counter part scolded. They soon got into a drunken argument about how to address superior officers, especially ones with pressing issues. The more their pointless conversation droned on the more Levi’s anxiety level rose. If he was delayed any longer he felt like he was going to shatter like the soldiers’ discarded beer bottle.

“I don’t have time for your shit!” He exclaimed. Your horse had begun to sense Levi’s urgency and started pawing at the ground and pacing restlessly in front of the gate.

The guards immediately halted their chatter and turned their full attention to him once again, looking like scolded children. There was a brief silence, broken by a single hiccup.

“Just. Let. Me. In. The. Damned. Gate.” Levi seethed, voice dangerously low. The guards exchanged nervous glances before scrambling to make the call that would raise the iron bars. The second the gate creaked upward, your horse was ready and anxiously bouncing on its hooves. When the opening was just large enough to fit through, your horse bolted through.

When the soldiers stationed at the guard tower would later tell the story to their comrades, and eventually Commander Pixis, they would swear that they saw the devil himself within Levi’s eyes.

Time had no meaning anymore as he weaved between stalled carts and yelping pedestrians. His eyes were on the prominent steeple that jutted out like a sunflower among dandelions from the jagged edges of the residential buildings. After rounding corner after corner and navigating the winding side streets he applied pressure to the reins at the front of the aged church. The grim sight that befell him festered at his already bleeding heart.

Sickness hung so thickly in the air that Levi felt it seeping into the pores of his skin. Hoards of ill residents congregated outside of the newly deemed hospital. Ymir’s stoney outstretched arms beckoned them to be herded like sheep into the eglise by their shepherds donned in nurses uniforms. So slowly were they being admitted that Levi could ascertain that the establishment, as grand as it looked on the outside, would not be able to harbor all of them. The mob groaned, wretched, sputtered and seemed to move as one undulating blob of disease.

Levi’s face contorted as the stench of bile singed the inside of his nose. Every one of his brain cells was scolding him for even contemplating the idea of having you treated at a place with such levels of contamination, but by the fucking walls he had no other foreseeable option. He kicked your horse briskly in the gut, abruptly trotting away to confront one of the nurses.

“You have to let me in. She’s bleeding out and needs stitches now.” Levi ordered with the remaining level-headedness he had hanging by his pinkie. His sanity was flowing out of him at the same rate blood was leaving your body. But he would not let his emotion influence his body and mind. The nurse’s eyes widened to the size of eggs, obviously overwhelmed by the sheer ghastliness of the situation.

“Captain Levi?!” She exclaimed in disbelief, first at the sight of the infamous soldier and then to the limp body clutched in his arms. Levi was aware of his so-called “popularity” but he swore he was going to explode if one more person acknowledged his name before the critical state of the soldier in his embrace. The nurse’s eyes darted to Levi’s bloodstained palm and she let out a small gasp barely audible through the cloth. Her eyebrows furrowed and Levi could infer she was frowning deeply.

“Sir, I’m sorry but we are at full capacity.” Her smooth voice was muffled by her mask. “A recent outbreak in the eastern district has us overwhelmed.”

Her excuse passed through one of Levi’s ears and right out the other. Every minute he sat here idly was another precious minute of life drained from you.

“You absolutely don’t have anyone that could treat her? Or- just give me some goddamn stitches and I’ll do it myself!” Levi demanded, tone flaring at the latter half of his proposal. The nurse gulped and shook her head somberly.

“The capital has been limiting the export of medical supplies to selected districts, including Krolva. We are maxed out now due to the illness...I’m afraid we can’t offer you anything.”

Levi dug his hand into the reins and tugged at them in frustration, making your horse skitter sideways. The scouts prided him in being one of the most rational members of its legions, which was a gift he was honing into as his head spun so quickly with what little options he had left. Uncharacteristically irrational thoughts tempted him, however when a splash of floral color caught his eye just behind the nurse’s shoulder it clicked.

He was in Krolva.

Krolva was your hometown.

You had family here.

Family with a distinct profession.

He stared at the ornamental tulips in the church yard for a moment before whipping his head towards the nurse.

“Where is the tulip farm.” Levi’s simple inquiry held the esteem of a military order of the utmost importance. Anticipation bubbled up within him as the nurse sputtered at his seemingly random change of subject.

“Um-The Vogel Estate is located slightly out of the district. If you go through the gates of Wall Rose its about a half an hour off the main road. There are signs for it you can’t miss.” The nurse instructed, pointing in the direction of the gates. Levi nodded once and was about to turn your horse around when the nurse let out a sound of protest.

“Wait!” She said hurriedly. She looked around nervously before reaching into her dress pocket, pulling out an ivory handkerchief and a small vile. Her gloved hands reached out to you looking at Levi for permission to remove his crimson caked hand.

“This saline won’t do much, but it will minimize infection.” She instructed, carefully lifting Levi’s hand. Sticky blood attempted to reconnect his limb to your side, however the nurse blotted the most recent stream away with a steady hand. Her breath hitched at the severity of your wound as she began pouring the contents of the vile onto your torn skin. She then folded the handkerchief and placed it firmly onto your side, grasping Levi’s hand and placing it over the fabric.

“This should keep more dirt from getting into her wound and irritating it. Keep applying steady pressure; thankfully it looks like you have been doing that already.”

Levi looked from his hand to her eyes, grateful for the sympathy that they held despite his frustration.

“Thank you.” He said curtly. Then, tugged on your horse’s reins and with one swift kick was off towards Wall Rose. To his relief, the gates were wide open as merchants filed through them. He deftly rushed past their inventory checks, unsympathetic to the whines in protest when your horse’s side rammed into a cart resulting in the spilling of an expensive keg of whiskey.

The signs to the estate took him through a picturesque village that made him question if the both of you were even residing in the living world anymore. When the crisp clacking of hooves against the brick road manifested into drum beats on the hard earth Levi had a small sliver of hope he was finally nearing his destination.

He had no idea how long the two of you had been riding for as crop fields turned into whistling wheat fields; the euphoric rolling hills were laughable in comparison to the bloodbath you had fled from. Levi only had a vague idea of where he was headed; his mental map painted by fond childhood memories and other stories of your youth. Based on your descriptions the place you talked so much about couldn’t be hard to miss.

You had taken Levi to Krolva once, a little less than a year ago he reckoned, on a rare scouting legion day off. However, you were unable to stay at your family home due to a myriad of circumstances. He wouldn’t have admitted it but a sweet, syrupy nervousness would churn in his stomach whenever you would talk about introducing him to your family and the other intimate aspects of your childhood. He had, indeed, already met the closest members of your family. One a scout that Levi was quite familiar with and the other the owner of this estate. He could count on one hand the amount of times he had met her and could say with the utmost certainty that it perplexed him beyond hell how you two were related. The fact that this was the first time you two were going to be there together, well the irony was ludicrous.

As humble houses began to litter the landscape he regained some confidence in his surroundings. Levi began analyzing each structure as your horse sped past, hooves hitting the stone path with the intensity of gunshots. His frantic mind began convincing himself that he was in fact in the wrong location when he saw the subject of all your musings.

Tulips.

A vast ocean of tulips that extended so far they seemed like they could caress the horizon. Levi had never seen such a sight in his life. He was never able to fully comprehend the pristine scenery you always described but seeing it laid out in front of him had enlightened his mind. Across from the floral sea sat a grand house, its elaborate frame sticking out against the rural landscape. Levi urged your horse on with a firm kick, a pained whinny erupting from its belly.

Upon reaching the structure Levi yanked on reigns, causing your horse to slide to a stop along the dirt path of the front yard. The homestead was silent except for your horse’s labored panting. Not even the sparrows that nested along the siding of the ornate porch chirped or rustled about. Levi took advantage of the quietness to make his presence known.

“H-HELP!” He shouted, his voice faltering a bit from his sore throat. He was far too used to being on the receiving end of this plea and it made him sink even more into desperation that this time the roles were reversed. The stillness lingered but a moment before the grand door swung open with a force that sent it bombarding against the siding of the house.

“Y/N!” A figure cried from the porch, their bellow echoing over the high entryway. The woman hurried down the steps with a spryness that betrayed her age. As she neared, Levi was faced with the familiar features of your grandmother.

“What in all hell happened, Levi?” She exclaimed with viscous horror. Her face contorted into various morphs of worry and disdain with each new angle she viewed of your mangled body.

“Y/N...she-” Levi wheezed, but his throat was too dry to formulate a proper sentence. His voice was cracked and his shoulder was numbing to the point where he was beginning to lose feeling. Your grandmother exhaled and collected herself, a wave of determination fastening like a uniform onto her being.

“Shit. No time for my questions, we need to get her inside now.” She stated firmly, releasing the reins from Levi’s locked grip. He nodded and allowed his hands to rise to your shoulders to pass you off to the woman. To his delight instead of fresh blood a layer of dark liquid caked his palm. This meant you hadn’t bled a significant amount since the hospital. He let out a shaky breath as the woman gathered you into her arms. You fell limply into her embrace, her knees buckling a bit at your weight but she quickly regained her posture. You looked like a corpse, pale and utterly dead looking, which made Levi want to throw up.

He never threw up.

As the woman began carrying you inside, Levi lifted his leg to dismount your horse but winced in pain. He hadn’t noticed his own injuries due to your condition, but now that the adrenaline had started to wear down they were catching up to him. When he landed the dismount he was met with a sharp pain along his shoulder blade. The pain was just an annoyance though in the grand scheme of the situation. The one thing that mattered the most in his life had almost been torn to pieces. So his shoulder could wait.

He began to hobble towards the front door, leading your horse along with him. He let go of the reins just shy of the porch steps.

“Wait here.” He coughed. There was of course no way your horse would understand him, let alone obey him. Knowing that animal it most definitely wouldn’t stay in the same place Levi left it.

Making his way into the house he paused in the entryway, taking in his surroundings. The foyer ahead of him was spacious; a large staircase laid directly in front of him and tall archways to both his sides led further into the lodgings. The quarters screamed quaint luxury; from the high ceilings, the perfectly intact pearl colored walls, to the elaborately carved hand railings of the stairs. He knew your family wasn’t exactly poor, but he didn’t know they were this economically endowed.

“Up here, quickly.” The woman called from the second floor, consequently snapping him from his daze. Blinking a couple times he charged up the stairs, taking the polished wooden steps two at a time. Once at the top he saw an open door to his right, one of many along the hallway. Just like the rest of the house the room was big, wide windows letting in the evening sunlight and casting a warm glow across the chambers. You were splayed across the silk sheets, the smooth linen now dirtied by your blood and god knows who’s else's. Your shattered form contrasted with the affluence of the room and he felt like he had just walked into your funeral service. The woman was seated at your side next to the nightstand. She had a variety of medical supplies splayed across the small table; needles, thick thread, cotton, alcohol, steel scissors, gause.

“Help me adjust her.” She requested in a low tone. Levi nodded once before walking to the opposite side of the bed and gingerly grasping your shoulders. The woman had laid you haphazardly on your side, unable to properly lay you straight due to her old age. Levi was impressed nonetheless, however, that she had carried you all the way up those stairs from the front yard. He moved your body so you were laying on your back, arms against your sides. Not wanting to get in her way, Levi planted himself on the bed at your other side.

“I’m thankful that you brought her here.” She said as she cut away pieces of your shirt with the scissors. “But why in holy hell did you not bring her to a proper medical facility? Half of her got torn up by one of those fuckers.” She exclaimed, her voice quaked with emotion but her hands remained steady.

The woman really had a way with words.

“Apply pressure to her wound while I get the stitches.” She instructed, immediately padding about the room to gather her medical supplies. Levi did as he was told and cringed when your flesh squelched under his palm.

“The hospital at Krolva was full, they wouldn’t let us in because of the illness.” Levi explained in a voice uncharacteristically small. His gaze remained fixed on his hands. Damn, his fingers were twitching.

Your grandmother slammed a bottle of alcohol down on the nightstand in disgust. Her weathered arms shook slightly at the impact.

“That damned hospital, if you can even call it that, is never prepared to take on the ailments of this city.” She spat. Now having gathered all the necessary items she pulled the stool from the vanity and set it so she was level with your injury.

In the fray he hadn’t been able to get a proper look at your injury. The woman had bunched up your tattered shirt just under the swell of your chest. She examined your torso with seasoned eyes, yet Levi saw a tinge of worry laced in her gaze. The skin that was exposed looked like someone had taken a rake to it; indigo bruises framed a sea of tattered skin in the shape of a crescent moon. Your body bent in at an unnatural angle where the titan had bitten down on your side and Levi was just thankful that he couldn’t see any bone. Seeing you in this crippled state caused tears to sear the inside of his eyes but he refused to let the floodgates burst. This was not the time to be weak, especially with this woman here.

“Don’t go crying on me now, shorty. I know you aren’t the soft type.” Levi jumped at the familiarity in her tone. It put him on edge at first; he had arrived under dire circumstances now she was calling him names and was talking as if he was an old friend. But it was oddly comforting; the boldness and confidence in her voice eased away some of his jitteriness. He huffed in response before watching her work again.

Your grandmother used gentle fingers to assess the wound, gingerly prodding the areas where you should have had skin but you didn’t. She then reached for the cotton and alcohol and began to clean the wound as much as she could; the large teeth shaped holes in your side would be difficult for any trained physician to work with. But she handled the medical supplies with a grace Levi never considered possible. When she was finished cleaning your side she spoke up.

“She’s unconscious but she could still accidentally bite her tongue.” She stated, standing from the chair to rummage through the carven dresser. Out of the top drawer she pulled out a leather belt. She returned to the bedside and handed it to Levi.

“Place this in her mouth. I’m about to start stitching her wound.” She instructed, cutting a long piece of thread with the steel scissors. His fingertips brushed your jaw as he guided your mouth open. You were already slack jawed as little puffs of air were rising from your agape lips. He folded the belt in half two times and placed it between your teeth, careful to keep your tongue along the bottom of your mouth lest you started to choke.

Once he was done, Levi studied the woman’s hands as she prepared the needle. Her fingers were wrinkled, coarse, bent at the joints, and they looked like they had endured a lifetime of hard labor. Those aged fingers preformed with precision and finesse from the moment the needle entered your skin to the tying of the final thread.

Although not awake, you had in fact tried to bite down on the belt, letting out muffled groans each time skin met needle. Levi desperately wanted to look away each time but didn't out of fear you would bite through leather.

“Talk me through what happened.” Your grandmother said without a wavering of her concentration. Had she sensed his uneasiness? Levi swallowed hard, the action painful on his parched throat.

Levi’s whole body stung with exhaustion and pain as he prepared to explain. When he spoke again his voice was still hoarse but not as jagged as before.

“What was planned as a routine expedition turned into a recovery mission for Eren-”

“Mhmm, the boy who can shift into a titan.” Your grandmother interjected, mostly as clarification for herself. She attentively continued to thread you back together as if you were one of your chewed on stuffed animals that sat atop your dresser.

“Yeah. Y/N’s squad was set to clear out any incoming titans on the western edge. That’s when the abnormal appeared. I saw the flare and-” He explained, almost in a whisper. Damn did his throat hurt. Damn did everything hurt.

“You acted out of order.” Your grandmother stated simply. A knowingly somber smile upturning her wrinkled mouth. Her words and the soft manner in which they were said caused Levi’s mouth to hang agape mid sentence.

“Which I am grateful for. Otherwise she might have died alone out there.” She added. Her expression was as even as her handiwork but Levi could see that in her eyes concern was brewing like freshly charred coals.

“A ripe piece of shite it is that this is the longest conversation we’ve had isn’t it?” Your grandmother huffed a dry laugh. Levi could only nod in response as he watched your jaw clench when her needle deftly plunged into a heavily bruised area.

She was right. The other times he had interacted with the woman were brief and professional. Both were at military events that left little room for idle chatter, seeing as she was a highly praised veteran of the garrison. One interaction occurred before you two were committed and one...well that awkward experience could not have been far enough from the forefront of his mind.

It took thirty minutes for the woman to piece you back together but it felt like a fortnight for Levi. When she was finished she exhaled loudly and wiped her hands on a now stained crocheted dish towel.

“All done.” She stood and placed her hands on her hips. Levi couldn't begin to thank her enough for all she had done in such a short amount of time.

“Thank you, for everything.” He coughed, thus sending a wave of pain down his shoulder blade.

A huff of laughter left her lips and she sent a wyry smile his way.

“Well, what kind of grandmother would I be if I left my granddaughter as the remains of titan fodder? Come on let’s get her in some clean clothes and wash some of this blood off.” Levi nodded once and proceeded to help your grandmother get you changed and cleaned up. When the two of them had finished you almost looked back to your normal self; your body tucked under the satin covers in an elegant ivory nightgown. Your features were soft, plush lips parted and breathing steady. You now fit in with the lavish ambiance of the space. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. That is until he felt a poke on his arm.

“It won’t do either of us any good if we just sit here staring at her. Come downstairs, i’ll make you some food and stitch you up too.” Your grandmother was looking up at him sternly. Levi shot her a confused glare and she met his gaze with another chuckle.

“You don’t hide your wounds very well, humanity’s strongest. Now come on, don’t make an old lady wait.”

#LEVI ACKERMAN #levi #levi x reader #levi heichou #attack on titan #AoT #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan fanfiction #fanfiction #anime fanfiction #jean kirschstein #marco bodt #bisexual jean #hange zoe #attack on titan hange #petra ral #snk x reader

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pendragyn · 3 years

Text

Ask Not For Whom The Bell Tolls (It Tolls For They)

an excerpt of my fic set during/after the church scene...

[...]

“Little demonic miracle of my own. Lift home?” Crowley had to make themself walk away after the jolt they’d felt from their hands brushing. They didn’t let themself look back, stalking away and wondering if Aziraphale would accept the offer. Almost hoped the angel wouldn’t, knowing they themself didn’t have the willpower to stay away, not when the angel looked at them the way they had as they’d accepted the books. As though it was a real courting gift, as though something lasting could come of it. As though Aziraphale had ever felt as Crowley had and still did.

Aziraphale looked down at the bag and up at Crowley’s retreating back, and inwardly at their own jumble of feelings and those that had come through with their first physical contact in centuries. Love. Their heart soared with terror and hope. They love me. They love me! As much as I love them! The euphoria was gone in an instant. In love, with a demon. A demon strong enough to walk on consecrated ground. How can this be anything but a trap? Aziraphale’s eyes drifted back down to the books, at war with themself, but called out, “Wait!”

Crowley stopped at the verge of the church’s property, at war with themself, but turned to face Aziraphale as they scrambled cautiously over the wreckage. “Their car should be around here somewhere.”

“Oh, I, I suppose so,” Aziraphale agreed, putting their hat back on and falling into step with Crowley. “It’s not that far to walk. Did it on the way here.”

“Might be another pass tonight. Might be they had friends. Rather be able to get out fast,” said Crowley, relieved to spot an undamaged car down the road a ways. Crowley snarled silently at the lingering scent of demon in the vehicle, but it was too faint to identify. “To the bookstore? I mean, if you’re still in the same building,” they covered when Aziraphale gave them a startled look.

“I am,” Aziraphale admitted, sitting stiffly in the passenger seat, clinging desperately to the books as Crowley started the engine and zoomed away. They wondered, at how much Crowley might have forgotten in the years they had been apart. Did they remember anything of their friendship before the fall, or just their infrequent times together after? It was probably too much to hope they’d bothered to remember much, after removing themself so completely from Aziraphale’s life, but, but, for Aziraphale to be able to sense their love, after so long apart… It had to be more than just nostalgia, more than just a fondness for an old friend, didn’t it?

It was a blessedly short trip and when Crowley stopped at the darkened book store, Aziraphale found themself saying, “Would you like a drink? I owe you at least that.”

Crowley stared at them for a long moment, still fighting themself over doing what was best and doing what they so desperately wanted, and finally gave a mute nod of agreement, following Aziraphale inside. It was dusty, in a way that surprised Crowley, with the books stacked haphazardly and covered in cobwebs, and a faint smell of mildew and rot that was too real to be an illusion. “Let it go a bit,” Crowley blurted, following Aziraphale into the back where their little apartment was set up. It wasn’t much, a little kitchenette, a table with a few chairs piled high with books, a dusty wardrobe in a corner and a couch that had seen better days. It had all seen better days and when Aziraphale cautiously lit a little oil lamp by the stove Crowley realized that even the angel was looking the worse for wear around the edges.

“Oh, yes, some,” said Aziraphale, carefully pulling the books from the bag and returning them to their spots on the only shelf that had been dusted with any regularity. “Didn’t seem much point in opening since the war started.” They frowned to see Crowley still standing and hastily shuffled books off the table and chairs.

“No, I suppose not,” Crowley murmured, taking a seat. It was bittersweet being back there, the first time since Paris, remembering Aziraphale’s excitement as they talked about how they were going to organize the shop and what they were going to do to keep customers to a minimum.

Aziraphale also sat but bounced back up, twisting their ring nervously as they chattered and went to dig out something to drink. “I, er, I made a deal with a farmer, for them to keep my more valuable things on their farm so I’m afraid the best I can offer you is cider—”

“It’s fine, angel,” Crowley soothed, reaching out but quickly withdrawing before Aziraphale could notice the gesture. “You don’t have to give me anything in return. For old time’s sake.”

“I’ll never drink it alone,” Aziraphale told the cabinet truthfully, afraid to turn around and see pity on Crowley’s face. Drinking alone made them remember, made them think of all the things they’d lost. Who they’d lost. “Be a favor to me, really, if you help me get rid of it.”

Crowley knew they should go, but Aziraphale had been their friend, had been their only friend, their best friend, for years on end, and they couldn’t leave, not without a little more stolen time in their company. Not hearing that desperately lonely note in their voice that they could feel like a stab to the heart and knew they’d hear in their own voice if they let it. Maybe there’d be a chance to make them laugh at some silly joke, a chance to once more see the laugh lines crinkle around their eyes as they pretended to scold for some thing or another. “Well, be a shame to let it go to waste.”

∞

What was at first hesitant and stilted conversation eventually eased as they kept to safe topics, mostly complaining about their bosses, which soon eased even further into shared memories of days long gone. The night wore on and as the supply of very strong, specially made and definitely not blessed, more like the opposite of blessed cider diminished, so did their inhibitions and higher thought processes.

The demon was on a rambling monologue about spies and double agents that Aziraphale had zoned out of an hour earlier, and they were instead just watching Crowley as they got up to pour themself another drink; taking in every movement and gesture, the curve of their cheek, the gleam of lamplight on their fiery hair. When they turned and looked over the top of their glasses to give Aziraphale an inviting grin, the angel lost their breath at the emotions that seized around their heart like a fist. I love them. I love them so much.

Aziraphale couldn’t hear anything but their heart pounding in their ears as they sank back onto the couch and unfurled their wings and their auras just so, a plea and an offering, holding out their hands, their throat too full of emotion to say anything but, “Crowley.”

Crowley’s empty glass slipped from their fingers and bounced away, and their glasses soon followed as they were drawn across the space by the absolutely radiant love pouring from Aziraphale’s eyes. “Aziraphale,” they breathed, unfurling their own wings, gasping as their outer auras met and meshed, and then their lips were on Aziraphale’s and their hands were sinking into blond curls and shimmering feathers, holding on for dear life as Aziraphale kissed them back. “Aziraphale!” It was an oath and a prayer as their inner auras brushed, and mingled and meshed and they moaned against each other’s lips. “Yes!”

“Yes!” A mindlessly jubilant euphoria blazed within Aziraphale like a wildfire at the contact, searing away all caution. They didn’t even consider the superficial, and therefore safe, unions afforded by physical or auraic touch, instead surrendering to the soul-deep yearning that had simmered unacknowledged for millennia, murmuring, “For you, Crowley, anything for you—”

Crowley was seized by a senselessly fierce exultant joy that jolted through them like lightning when the angel said those words, and they threw caution to the wind when the radiance of Aziraphale’s firmament brushed their outer aura, bringing them only a thought away from reciprocating when a bell, a church-bell, deep and sonorous and painfully loud rang out and continued to ring with a sense of desperation.

Crowley wretched themself out of Aziraphale’s embrace, pressing their hands over their ears, gasping for breath, horrified at what they’d almost done. They’d been a heartbeat away from turning their best friend into a demon, from dragging Aziraphale down to hell by selfishly taking advantage of their generous and caring nature. Had been moments from destroying the one thing in the entire universe they cared about more than life itself. Saved them from a betrayal only to be the one to almost cause their fall instead. What kind of monster does that? Unforgivable.

“Crowley?” What had just a moment earlier been euphoria crashed and burned beneath the disgust in Crowley’s eyes and the reality of what they had almost done. Crowley had put themself in harm’s way to help a friend, and their so-called friend had almost doomed them in return with their pathetic neediness. What kind of pathetic fool mistakes physical desire for a courting overture? If Crowley hadn’t recoiled, the mingling of their firmaments would have marked Crowley as a traitor to hell and they would have been destroyed for it, and it would have been entirely Aziraphale’s fault. “Crowley, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, please—”

“No, no,” Crowley murmured as they backed away and when Aziraphale reached out, they fled. And worse than the still ringing church bell was the sound of Aziraphale’s pleading sobs echoing in Crowley’s mind, begging the unforgivable for forgiveness.

∞

Read the entire tragic fic on AO3

#good omens #good omens fanfic #goc2021 #good omens celebration #tragedy #very long post #long post #aziraphale/crowley #aziraphale x crowley #Ineffable Bastards #6000 years of pining #6000 years of slow burn #6000 years of friendship

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sweet-by-and-by · 3 years

Text

Wearied So- Arthur Morgan & Mary Linton

summary: The sight of a letter awaiting Arthur’s return sends his day into a spiral he could have never predicted. (Spoilers for Chapter 2, We Loved Once and True)

characters: Arthur Morgan & Mary Linton/Gillis

a/n: A warm up piece that sort of got away from me! The emotion flowing through my playstation was palpable during this scene, I hope you enjoy my take on it!

He could hardly believe his eyes at the sight of parchment sitting atop his table.

The audacity that she had to reach out to him.

“Yours,” she signed, as if there was ever a world in which she was his.

He read through the letter the first time, then a second, and a third. Could feel the stolen glances of passersby; first Abigail, then Susan, and even Hosea. All surely concerned, likely smart enough to piece together its sender.

Who else sent letters addressed to Arthur Morgan, after all?

He stuffed the letter into his satchel, unable to stand the shrinking walls of camp. Had to get away from wandering eyes, from the suffocating feeling that encroached on him.

Mounting up with a force that surprised him, he took off without a word, keeping his pace slow and collected lest he alarm whoever was on watch. Charles, he thought absently, trying to force his breath steady and find some sort of calm.

As soon as he passed the half-downed tree at the road, he spurred his horse into a gallop. The wind against his skin and the heaving breaths of the steed between his legs kept him grounded as his mind started to race, pushed down his thoughts of days long past. He rode to the river, taking the long way to avoid watchful eyes up in Horseshoe Overlook.

He turned sharply onto the trail that followed the Dakota, pushing his stallion hard. The destination hardly mattered, all he needed was a hard ride and some time to think. Visions of stolen kisses and diamond rings flooded his mind, the memories of his last meeting with Mary taking over.

It had been over fifteen years ago that she’d said her goodbyes, her heavy promise that they would never speak again weighing on him since. He thought of her often, but never dreamed she would think of him. And to call on him? After all this time? To say she would love to see him again?

His thoughts were plagued with why now?. What could she possibly want from him that her husband couldn’t provide?

Nothing good, likely, he figured.

In spite of his better judgment, he found himself riding towards Valentine. His scattered mind wandered all over. He was grateful that his horse seemed to know where they were going. They trudged past the Downes’ Ranch, doing his best to ignore the beaconing reminder of his poor character.

As he rode into town, he caught sight of the bold, painted letters of the town hotel. He stopped to clean himself up, washing quickly before resuming his trudge up to Chadwick Farm.

He almost turned around at the sight of the house, his stomach dropping as reality caught up with him. So many years spent wondering what if, and now he was finally given his chance to find out.

Knees wobbling like jelly, he slung himself down from the saddle and walked up the front steps. The heels of his boots thudded against the wooden porch, the sound barely registering as he reached up to knock on her door.

He snatched his hat from his head, remembering his manners at the last second. No need to remind her what a roughneck you are so soon, he chided himself.

Fiddling with the brim of his hat, he paced the front porch until the sound of the door creaking open snapped him back. His hands raised in surrender, the sight of a six shooter pointed straight to his chest making his anxious thoughts disappear.

“Yes?” the woman holding the revolver prompted, her eyes shifting around nervously to look for hidden men in the trees.

“Oh, I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to disturb you, ma’am,” he said slowly. He suppressed a laugh at himself, finding himself less afraid at the sight of a revolver than the prospect of Mary. “Is Missus Linton in?”

“I’ll go see,” the woman replied, firming her gaze as she ducked back inside.

He returned to his nerves as she called down for Mary, shifting his weight from one foot to another as he waited.

The door swung open, and his heart stopped. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her, still just as beautiful in spite of the years between their last meeting.

“Hello, Arthur,” she chimed, the sound of her voice sending him straight back to his youth. She stepped out to join him, leaving him frozen in place.

“Mary,” he said, cringing at the break in his voice. “I, erm-”

“I heard you and your friends was around,” she interrupted.

“Okay,” he replied, ducking his head. “Where’s, um- where’s what’s his name?”

“Died,” Mary replied quickly, averting her gaze.

Arthur’s breath hitched, his train of thought derailing at her response. “Well I’m sorry to hear that,” he said stiffly.

“Me too, me too. Happened a while ago. Pneumonia.”

“Bad business.”

Silence hung between them, the air thick with tension. Arthur furrowed his brow, rolling her words around in his head and blinking away his confusion.

“So, uh. You’ve been- you’ve been made a widow and you come here looking for me? Is that it?”

“No!” she reeled, “Ain’t like that, Arthur”

“Oh. Okay...”

“Listen, Arthur,” Mary pressed on, “I...I’m- my family...I need your help,” she finally relented.

Arthur let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, scoffed and stepped back. He hated himself at that moment, hated how he had let his hopes rise.

“You mean the family that always looked down on me?” he asked, unable to hide the venom that laced his voice. “And you want me to help them?”

“It’s my little brother, Jamie,” she pleaded, staring up at him with those big doe eyes he had always fallen for.

He turned away, unable to look her in the eye any longer. A sarcastic chuckle escaped him, shaking his head as he moved to put distance between them. “I always liked Jamie,” he smiled, “at least compared to the rest of them.”

He leaned into his hands that he rested against the porch railing, sighing and letting his shoulders slump. He couldn’t shake the settling disappointment, the proof that all he would ever be good for was the job that needed doing.

He felt Mary creep beside him, saw her rest her own dainty hands next to his. He took in a shaky breath, reveling in the silence where he could pretend things were different.

“He’s broken Daddy’s heart,” she sounded weary and worn, just as exhausted as he felt.

“Daddy has a heart?” Arthur scoffed.

“Don’t make me beg you, Arthur.” Mary snapped back.

“My money, my life, me. I wasn’t good enough-”

“I’m sorry,” she cut him off again, “we need your help real bad.”

Arthur kept his gaze forward, refusing to get caught in those big eyes. He listened to her tell him of Jamie and the Chelonians, that disappointment still a heavy pit in the bottom of his stomach.

“So I’m too rough to marry into your family, but it’s okay to ask me to help in saving your family,” he asked, though it was hardly a question.

“I’m sorry,” Mary repeated, “I understand if you don’t want to help me, but…I think of you often.”

Arthur shook his head again, feeling drained by her words. He had always imagined they would bring him joy, bring a long dead part of him back to life.

Instead, he just felt old. The heavy toll of the past sinking into his bones and dragging him closet his grave. “A long time ago now,” he lamented, pushing himself up to meet her stare. He searched her eyes, praying to find more than a bargaining tool beneath her confession.

“I’m begging you, Arthur.”

“I say let Jamie live Jamie’s life, and not the nightmare that Daddy dreamed up for him,” Arthur dismissed, pushing off of the railing and walking back up the porch. He walked back towards the steps, ready to rid himself of Mary and her hold over him.

“Jamie’s so innocent,” Mary tried, one last attempt at pulling Arthur’s heartstrings. “Please, Arthur. Will you help me?”

He stilled for a moment, slowly meeting her eyes with his. She had always been beautiful to him, her fine clothes and tidy manners hiding a myriad of sins.

“I’m sorry, Mary. I like Jamie, but after all that’s happened? You’re gonna have to find someone else to run your errands.”

“Okay, Arthur,” she said slowly, casting her eyes to the floor. “I miss you.”

“Yeah,” Arthur nodded, his gaze far off in places long gone. “I miss you too. It’s all in the past now,” he said sadly, stepping back down the creaking front steps. His head hung low, his shoulders hunched as everything caught up with him.

“Take care of yourself,” she called, a parting formality that spoke volumes.

He hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, casting a glance over his shoulder.

“Sure,” he replied, strolling back to his mount to part ways.

He rode back to camp, never pushing beyond a trot this time. His head swirled as he replayed their exchange, shame creeping in at how quickly he ran back to her.

Some things, he wagered, were better left behind.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #warm up #writing warm up #ficlet #arthur morgan #mary linton #mary gillis #my fic #my feelings on mary are complicated ok #dont come for me #warm ups collection

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fixeddawn · 3 years

Note

Boy do I love this blog so, so much.

Was there a New Moon in the AU? Or did Bella put a stop to that nonsense immediately.

(Spoilers for the story Clotho (The Moirai Saga) ahead, beware!)

Edward: "Okay so what had happened was-"

-Bella and Alice appear, shoving him out of the way with a squeak-

Alice: "GURL YOU KNOW HE'S STILL AN IDIOT."

Bella: "I- ugh, I tore him a new asshole when he told me he didn't actually love me, and he got me FUCKED up, but he still left. It was rough, especially when my powers started acting up and I started having panic attacks and meltdowns. The wolf pack over here is a bunch of different families, all somewhat Irish, they're descendants of the people of Ossory. Jakes grand-dad immigrated here in the 60's. Actually, OI, JACOB-"

-Jacob shoves into the room, but knocks his head on the doorframe on the way in.-

Jake: "FUCK. Finally man, the Boyz can talk!

Bella: "Eagan (Embry) Got you saying that now too, huh?"

Jake: "Ye, it's funnier. Anyway, shit happened WAY different than in the original plot line. Bella and I still got to be friends, and she hung out with my fam a lot, we have massive bonfires cause my dads the youngest of eight kids.

I helped her find her own place actually! My auntie had a 2 bedroom 2 bath house for rent cheap and she took it on the promise of painting it and shit. Of course then she got mixed up in all of our chaos, especially with the pub my dad runs in town, we got the Blacks, and the O'Clearys and the Udys, three old bloodlines. Bella actually found out about the pack by accident, I uh...I had a massive crush on her and she wasn't ready and stuff got tense and I just...poof, y'know?"

Bella: -makes exploding hand gesture- "Poof."

Jake: "Paul didn't like it at first but she became a member of the pack, we don't really imprint like...romantically, it's super rare, but mostly we imprint familial-y, Bella kept helping Emily cook and clean up and deal with a bunch of rowdy guys. (we got put to work too, don't worry) And she just meshed. She also became our field medic. It got so bad that if we weren't at The Farm, we were probably sprawled out on Bella's living room couch and floor, passed out.

Bella: "It was like snow white and the 7 goofy werewolves, it was great. Leah disliked me at first, but she still went through that thing with Sam, so she was struggling. We actually bonded over the whole "Fuck having a supernatural Ex" thing. Girls gotta support each other, you know? She and Emily also made up with a little time. When I was having my nightmares, facing all the shit that was going down alone and helpless, I told her about them. She's a professional kickboxer! She's fucking badass!! I begged her to train me and kept shoving cash at her until she let me hire her. I was USELESS at first, but she ran me hard, and eventually I could even hold my own in a fight against (human) Seth! All the while, Jake here was finding it hard to keep it in his pants, but he was really my rock, I tried to do everything I could to support him through his change and the aftermath, but it...well. You know who I married. -she cringes, Jake puts an arm around her shoulder for a rough squeeze and a small smile, obviously forgiving-

Jake: My crush was hard man, it still is low-key, (J: 👀 B: 😑) but...well, her panic attacks were still coming. And one night we were dancing, and I...well..."

Bella: "We kissed, I was so desperate to move on, feel something else, but I panicked. It wasn't right."

Jake: "She bolted from the party, ran into the woods, I remember screaming, and then this awful earsplitting sound, and a shockwave.

Bella: "....I kinda, blew down like 30 square feet of the forest around me. Thats when I realized all the popping lightbulbs and shaking surfaces weren't earthquakes...but, well, me. It was the worst panic attack I've ever had. So now, my vampire Bf dumped me, my best friend is a werewolf, and I can fuck shit up with my mind on accident when I'm highly emotional. Queue complete mental breakdown."

Jake: "...Then the redhead showed up."

Bella: "Victoria...she killed my coworker, my friend, horribly, gave him the same injuries James did to send the message. We realized she would start going after the people I was close to if she couldn't get to me. I pretty much hunkered down at The Farm after that, the pack did rounds and tried to protect so much land...I was terrified someone was going to get hurt. When she attacked The Farm, we were blindsided. She caught Seth around his chest and almost crushed him. I was terrified, I managed to use one of my "Bubbles" to blow her away from both of us so I could get him to safety and reset his ribs."

Alice: "And all 𝘐 saw was victoria closing in on Bella from above for a third of a second, when she let out her bubble, so, ofc, I thought she was dead and immediately bolted back to Pullman. Everyone else came too, Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, Jasper... We were so shocked Victoria went after her and 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘴.

"We found out, when we arrived at her apartment and she was still alive and being guarded by werewolves, that it was because my dumbass brother never gave her my goodbye letter, and lied to both sides about his intentions for what happened that day in the woods. He told the family he was going to tell her the truth, that he was going to take himself away from the situation and see if she couldn't move forward, if she couldn't have a human life. Not that he was going to lie to her that he "found out it was infatuation and not love" or whatever the fuck the Drama-King decided made sense. -steps hard on Edward, he squeaks mournfully-

"Emmett and Jazz were about ready to hunt him down for not giving her a way to contact the family, Esme was devastated that Bella thought we'd just abandoned her, Rose was...well, rose, and Carlisle and I were dissapointed, (mine was more on the murder side tho.)

Bella: "We really didn't think it could get much worse, but Edward's creative."

Alice: "Rose calls him to tell him Vicky killed Bella, because EMMETT NEVER FUCKING CALLED HER. Edward flies into a fucking rage tantrum and ofc, goes to italy. When I told her what was happening, Bella was 𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥, like, walls shaking, lightbulbs popping pissed, and tbh I kinda wanted to see her kick his twink ass."

Bella: "...The emotions were wild. Rage, betrayal, relief, fear, it was such a jumble. When we got there, saved him, and got passed the volturi, we stayed overnight- well, over𝘥𝘢𝘺 in one of the dorm room things. I was still in my funeral dress and nylons and had lost my shoes, so they let me shower and sleep. First however, I laid into Ed. I wasn't going to carry the weight of "if I accidentally die, I'm gonna be the fuckin reason Edward is taken from his family too." Especially not as a Human. I informed him he was going to come home, apologize, take his lumps, and cope. He was a grown ass man and he needed to act like one and clean up the mess he made."

Edward, from the floor, muffled: "Safe to say, I learned my lesson. My self flagellation and pity-party was immature at best, destructive at worst. I apologized to Bella and my family, and did not yet ask for forgiveness, just for the opportunity to prove that I 𝘩𝘢𝘥 learned something from all of this."

Bella: "...We didn't get back together at first. I couldn't trust him, and he obviously did not trust me or my feelings. But I still loved him. When he was there for me and recognized/supported my autonomy, over a little bit of time I was able to trust him again. I think we both grew a LOT during the experience, and while it sucked the whole time, it was also a catalyst for better things to come. Jake was upset, at first, but we had a long and hard talk. Honestly about what I was able to give to a friendship and if it would be enough for him. He eventually decided, that it was. We still bro's. He even made friends with Edward."

Jake: -Grins and steps on Edwards head. Edward growls and rolls over to drag him to the ground. The boys play-wrestle in the background, though it looks less playful than others. Growling, gnashing, and the word 'fuck' is heard often from the fray.-

Alice: "Idiots."

Bella: "The Cullens and the wolves actually bonded as Esme and Sam strategized about the newborn war. We're not "natural enemies" after all, just smelly to alert the other we're in the area. So Jake and the pack and I are still close as ever. "

"Sorry if this was long winded, but it deserved an explanation! I'm gonna go break the boys up now, thanks for your question!"

#bella is black #edward cullen #the twilight saga #bella swan #cullen family #twilight #dork #meme #Alice Cullen #Jacob Black #fixeddawn answers #fixeddawn #text answer #art coming soon

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hobeemin · 4 years

Text

Pick of the Patch

🍂 Genre: Fluff, Romance

🍂 Pairing: Kim Taehyung x (f) Reader; Yeontan appears 💜💜

🍂 Rating: pg13

🍂 Warning(s): Light cursing, feelings of uncertainty,

🍂 Word Count: 1.9k

🍂 Credits: A huge thanks to @taerseok for reading this over and giving me great feedback. Thank you so much!! Resources for banner provided here

🍂 A/N: to the lovely @chillingtae I hope you enjoy this just as much as I did writing it for you darling 💜🥺

Another lazy Sunday.

You sat on the bed after cleaning the apartment, relaxing against the pillows. Yeontan jumped up on the bed to join you giving a little yip for to you give him a few scratches behind his ears. Giggling you obliged, settling in as the next episode of your drama began. Yeontan snuggled close to your side yawning as he got comfortable. You focused on the screen nearly jumping out of your skin as your boyfriend kicked the door open in surprise. Yeontan barked before jumping off the bed and hiding under it. You clutched your chest as you glared at him, body frozen in shock. Your face twisted into a scowl as the stupor dissipated.

“Tae! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Taehyung grinned running up to you with a laugh. “Sorry, Jagiya. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You swatted his hand away still scowling. “Don’t just apologize to me. Tannie is under the bed.”

The look of horror crossed his face. Not his baby! Taehyung dropped to the floor coaxing his dog out with soothing words. Eventually, Yeontan came out and Taehyung scooped him up in his arms cooing to him like a baby. You watched shaking your head. “Tae?”

“Hmm?” He said, occupied with rubbing Yeontan’s belly.

“Why’d you come crashing in the house?”

His eyes widened in confusion as if registering why he came in the first place before a smile spread across his face. “Oh! Yeah. I’m taking you somewhere.”

Your brow raised. “When?”

That boxy grin formed on his face. “Today.”

You glanced down at your clothing. Donned in one of his baggy shirts and some leggings, you had planned to chill the remainder of the day. Now that you noticed, he was dressed up more than usual. He wore dark jeans, an emerald sweater, and a comfortable brown jacket. His light brown hair was hidden under a newsboy hat.

“Tae–”

“Jagiya,” he cooed, wrapping you up in his arms and kissed your forehead, “Come with me. You’ll have fun, I promise.”

The ice around your heart cracked away as you rolled your eyes. He could always make you smile, even when you didn’t want to. Grumpy or not, Tae put up with you. With resolution, you sighed giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Oh alright. Let me get dressed.”

He cheered kissing all over your face. “You’re the best girlfriend ever!”

Suppressing a smile, you rolled your eyes playfully at his remark, your mood becoming lighter as you swatted him away to change. “Yeah. Yeah.”

🍂🍂🍂

Taehyung drove carefully down the road singing at the top of his lungs. That dorky man. You joined in adding the melody to one of your favorite songs. Yeontan howled along from the backseat. You never felt so much at home in this moment as you all sang together. Tae chuckled hearing his adorable dog, reaching over to squeeze your knee as the song ended.

“Thank you for agreeing to come out with me, Jagiya. I know things have been stressful, but I promise this will help you take your mind off some things.”

You smiled slowly as the blush crept into your cheeks. Were you really this lucky? Tae hummed as the scenery changed from urban to suburban to rural. The hammering in your chest grew loud as you looked around. Like him, being outside was something you loved most. Being in the city was nice, but something about being close to nature soothed you. You couldn’t help but bounce in your seat as Taehyung turned in a winding road that led to what looked like a farm.

“Tae!”

His grin widened as he drove under an arch with the words ‘Heritage Farms’ twisted in the iron. Your mouth dropped glancing at your boyfriend. “Are you serious?”

He chuckled as he easily parked the car in a grassy field. “I know you miss doing this with your grandparents, so I thought we could make some memories as well.”

Tears threatened to spill as you sat in the car. Going to this farm filled you with so many emotions. It had been a humongous part of your childhood. Coming here with your Gram and Pop Pop was a treat. The smells invaded your nostrils as Taehyung opened your door and pulled you out of the car. With his other hand holding Yeontan’s leash and the other wrapped around yours, you both walked to the open area.

The gazebo was just how you remembered it, green roof, wrapped in decorative leaves. A sign with the word ‘Pumpkins’ stamped across. The small white house with green trim on the hill came into view as you both walked down the path. Tae pointed towards the fork in the road.

“Apples or pumpkins?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully, brows furrowed in thought as you made your decision. “Pumpkins please!”

He gave you his famous boxy grin and ran with you down the path. Yeontan yipped running ahead on his leash. Your eyes rounded as the pumpkin patch grew closer. It was just as you remembered if not more. The pumpkins were even bigger in size.

“Oh my gosh Tae! Look!”

He grinned gesturing to them. “Go ahead, jagiya.”

You squealed and ran over running through the pumpkin patch giggling at the brightly colored orange shaded orbs. They sat among the leafy vines shining under the sun. The nostalgia came crashing down on you so suddenly almost making you tear up. You bent down taking one into your hands and held it close, shutting your eyes and swaying side to side. You barely heard the camera shutter go off as you opened your eyes to see Tae propped against the fence taking your picture.

An endearing pout formed on your lips, with your hands placed on your hips. “Taehyung!”

He chuckled, giving you a wink. “What? That was too cute to pass up.”

Rolling your eyes, you glanced down at Yeontan sniffing around at the pumpkins. “Tannie.” The Pomeranian’s ear perked up at his name being called and he looked at you curiously, eyes wide and round and just the most lovable.

“Your daddy is lucky I love him otherwise he’d get a punch to the eye.” You huffed, a teasing smile on your face before it hit.

Both your eyes widened at the confession. Your cheeks flushed looking down at the dirt. You hadn’t discussed the L-word quite yet even though you’d been dating for over two years. Embarrassed out of your mind, you walked further into the patch exploring the different types of pumpkins and squashes to pick from, trying not to look in your boyfriend’s eyes, even if it was tempting. Taehyung stood in surprise feeling his heart beat loud in his chest.

“Tan Tan, you heard that right?”

Yeontan barked pawing at the dirt.

“Yeah I thought so too,” he replied scratching his nose.

He gulped nervously, grabbing his camera, and continued taking pictures of the farm, sneaking more pictures of you when you weren’t looking.

After picking a few choice pumpkins to decorate your place with, you found a spot near a wagon decorated with hay bales. Yeontan followed you wanting some attention and you agreed wholeheartedly. With a soft chuckle, you stroked the top of his head relaxing and enjoying the fresh air, humming a quiet tune before the events replayed in your head.

“Oh Tannie, I think I messed up,” you mused. “I’ve never said I love you before. Sure we live together, but like, does he feel the same?” You glanced down at the dog inquisitively. “This is new territory. I just came out. Damn it.”

You wanted to kick yourself. You didn’t do sentimental stuff normally. It wasn’t until you met Taehyung that he brought out your sweet side. Hell, he was the first partner you agreed to move in with, though quite scary in the beginning, eventually, you both got used to each other and found a happy medium.

But this ‘i love you’ business. It felt so natural, even if you hadn’t said it prior. You looked off in the distance not noticing Taehyung plop down next to you. He reached over and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek causing you to jump.

“Hiding from me?” he teased.

You blushed looking away from him. “N-No, just needed to be alone,” you whispered.

Taehyung pouted slightly, taking your hand and squeezing it. “I hope it wasn’t something I did to scare you off.”

You shook your head turning to him. “What?! No Tae! Gosh, I-I...damn,” you looked up at the sky trying to get the words out. Why was it so hard to say? “I’m sorry. You’ve been perfect. All this to cheer me up. I can’t believe you remembered that story I told about this place. I don’t even know what to say except how grateful I am to have and Yeontan in my life.”

You felt his large hand engulf yours and you squeezed it giving him permission to speak.

“You mean so much to me. Jagiya, you don’t have to be scared of how you feel,” he smiled at you softly. “I was a little surprised, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. In fact, it makes me fall in love with you even more.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

Taehyung's smile spread as he pulled you close to him. “Are you kidding? I’m crazy about you! Even though we've been together for only two years, I feel like I’ve known you longer. I love you Y/N always and forever.”

You choked out a sob as the tears trickled down your cheeks. Taehyung picked up Yeontan and held him up at eye level giving him a cute voice to speak. “If you’ll have us.”

“T-Tae?”

He put Yeontan down with a laugh. Visibly nervous, he wrung his hands looking anywhere but at you. With a deep breath, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a tiny box wrapped in black velvet. His cheeks dusted in pink, whether it was from nerves or the autumn chill, you weren’t sure, but the determination filled his eyes as he stared at you.

“I knew you were the one since the first day we met. You remember? That rainy spring afternoon near the Han River. We got soaked on our bike ride and found a tree to hide under the downpour stopped. I wasn’t sure about being set up on a blind date and I could tell you weren’t happy either, but we sat there and talked about everything under the proverbial sun. The way you laughed, or how you would touch your eyebrow when you were talking about something you were passionate about. It made my heart race. I knew then I couldn’t be without you. You’re my better half. I love you so much.”

He opened the box to reveal a moonstone set in rose gold. You cried silently as he slipped it on your finger. He chuckled bashfully. “I may be jumping the gun, but would you marry me? It would make me the happiest man alive.”

You nodded, speechless for a few seconds, and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Yes. Yes I will,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “Tae, I love you so much. Thank you for being there for me.”

He bent down to kiss your lips sweetly. “This wasn’t exactly how I planned this, but do things ever go our way.”

“Never,” you said with a laugh. You picked up a pumpkin and twirled it with your hands standing on your tiptoes to kiss your new fiancé on the cheek.

Yeontan barked, jumping between the two of you and you patted his head. “Yep Tannie. My words exactly.”

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writer-and-artist27 · 3 years

Text

Okii-san

Or, I somehow pulled Okita Alter on the first ten pull I did on the Guda Guda 3 rerun banner (I was actually aiming for the Craft Essences, so the gold Alter Ego card kinda shocked me after all the pain that was getting Enkidu and Ishtar), and with her now sitting at Level 84 in my Chaldea (as of this writing this notes section/intro at 11:06 pm on 4/12/2021, after farming Embers for 3-4 hours on Golden Apples/Saint Quartz), I wanted to write this bit before bed.

I don't know all of Majiin's story yet, since I wasn't able to play the event's original run where she debuted, but I hope the emotions here are about right.

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

"YEW BOW!"

Vy watched as Robin Hood's Noble Phantasm went off, incinerating the last Divine Arm of Dawn with plumes of purple smoke. Once the air cleared, she felt herself quietly exhale.

Another farming bit done.

"Battle finished, Senpai," Mash said faithfully, taking her Ortinax goggles off her eyes to rest them on top of her head. The sparkle in her purple eyes was all the more obvious thanks to the action, further accentuating the warm smile on her face. "Embers are all collected."

Vy stretched her arms in the air, standing on her tiptoes while nodding. Standing as a commander of Servants, while doable, still took something in social energy. Even if it was for the experience, it didn't help that wearing an outfit that supposedly came from the Far Side of the Moon felt a bit too exposing. Maybe it was the short skirt and lack of stockings. But then again, Vy couldn't voice it. Too much worry could mean overthinking it to the point of broadcasting to the other Servants. And the last few times that happened were embarrassing enough with Dr. Roman still around. So instead of that, she said, "Aye aye. Thank you for the support, beloved kouhai."

Mash blushed a little at the title, but still nodded with the same warm smile. "I-It's the least I can do, Senpai."

"And I'm always grateful for that, Mash." Vy shot her a smile back once she felt that telling crack in her spine, rocking her head back and forth. To everyone else, she took a breath before opening her mouth. "Good job, everyone!"

Robin Hood, the MVP of the quest this time, shot Vy a wry grin in return, saluting her with one pointer finger. "Getting to fight on the front lines is at least easier now," he quipped. "But give me a break sometimes, Master."

"Oh, shushie, big Robin, you have more energy than me and I'm the workaholic." Once his green eye was boring holes into her forehead, though, Vy amended it with a more kind, less sardonic, "If it helps, I'll give you a chocolate chip muffin later?"

The May King merely grinned. Before he could say anything, though, Ishtar let out a haughty laugh, hovering over Robin's head with Maana as she put a hand to her chin. "How delightfully droll, green Archer! All this work for a muffin! Nonsense! As the Goddess of Love, I could certainly help you with whatever thoughts you have lingering in your mind instead—"

"Sorry, little lady. Compared to my little sparrow's gifts, that offer is going to get a hard pass. Plus, you're not my type."

Ishtar wilted as soon as she bloomed, Maana descending to near ground level as a result. Nearby, Vy could hear Mash laugh sheepishly, adjusting her hold on her shield as the last member of their party made themselves known with a soft sigh at Vy's other side.

The back of a gloved hand brushed Vy's free one, the one that didn't have the Command Spells, and Vy tried not to flinch away at the new sensation. Sure, the being known as Okita Souji Alter was still someone Vy was trying to grasp in emotional understanding. Even when being close to Final Ascension, there was something about Okita's eyes lingering on Vy's form the entire time they went about farming for the Embers Okita needed that was a little... different from the other Servants in Chaldea's roster. And yes, Okita wasn't the first Alter Vy had ever contracted with. Saber Alter had that honor bagged. It didn't make the constant surveillance any less... strange to think about, really.

But Okita had still answered her call when Vy wasn't expecting it. More so after her original self and some others didn't. And considering the Lostbelts and what would come, all Vy could feel herself doing in response to the small touch was reach over and grab Okita's fingers before the Alter Ego could lurch away.

"Majiin-san?"

"Wh-What is it, Master?" Okita Alter said after a second of consideration, her pale yellow — almost silver, really, when looking up close — eyes automatically locking onto Vy as she tilted her head downwards. They were close enough to where Vy could see her own image reflected in Okita's darkened irises. "Is there something wrong?"

"N-No no, nothing really." Vy glanced down at their entangled hands, feeling the thoughts rush through her at that moment. "I just..."

Calloused. Signs of bruises. How long had she been—

Before me, where had she—

Okita Alter's hands reminded her of Archer EMIYA's.

To Vy, Okita Alter's touch felt like Shirou's.

A wind passed between them. Vy wasn't sure if it was from the simulator or her brain making up the sensation.

"...Vy?" Okita whispered.

Anxiety was bubbling up in her throat, but Vy still raised her head and looked up at the taller Alter Ego with what she hoped was a genuine smile. She couldn't help but tug and squeeze the Servant's fingers a bit tighter as she said in a softer voice, "Are you having fun working with us, Okii-san?"

Okita Alter blinked once. Twice. Thrice. Then many times over, as if gears were turning in her head before her eyes widened to the size of plates. "Okii...san?"

"You're the only Okita I ever got to know," Vy said with a shy laugh, doing her best to ignore the eyes of the other Servants while speaking her mind. "So, Okii-san. And, I know you're not at full power yet, but, let me try again..." Vy gulped, finishing with a softer, "Are you happy right now?"

Am I helping you enough like how I did with Shirou, Mash, and big Robin?

Okita Alter stared at Vy for a while. The attention was enough to make Vy tempted to run, to want to let go of Okita's hand and hide her face away, but something inside of her was forcing her to stay still.

Silvery-yellow eyes reflected Vy's image for what felt like a long time before they closed, a soft sigh on Okita's lips.

"Okii-san? Um. Sh-Should I have not gone with that name? Should we go farm a bit more instead? O-Or should I go cook some oden when we—"

Instead of a verbal answer, Okita's long sword had disappeared into visible sparkles, and before Vy knew it, hands were reaching under her elbows, winding around her waist and—

"W-Wah!"

Despite being lifted up in the air and feeling very much like a teddy bear as a result (what was it with Servants either headpatting or hugging her like this?), Vy couldn't miss the warm solemn smile on Okita's face. "O-Okii-san?"

"...My anchor, my lord, my Master," Okita said in slow, gentle succession, her hold on Vy's figure almost considerate as she slowly brought her arms in to let Vy rest her hands on Okita's shoulders. "Why worry about that?" A nose gently brushed hers, sparking a sudden giggle from Vy's lips at the ticklish feeling as Okita smiled again. "Believe me, my shooting star." A shaky breath brushed Vy's cheeks as one of Okita's hands rested on the back of Vy's head, barely missing her ponytail and almost cradling her as their foreheads touched. Something sang through their Master-Servant mental connection.

"Okii-san—?"

"I honestly wish this kind of happiness could go on forever."

...Oh.

It was telling that none of the other Servants were saying anything.

Vy still raised her hands to wrap them around Okita's neck, pushing Okita's forehead back with a bit of force. Not enough to cause pain, but enough for a reminder. "We can just make more, Okii-san," Vy whispered, closing her eyes. "Even when this happiness goes away, we can still make more. Whether it's through memories or spending time together, happiness can happen. As long as we're alive, we can do it."

Once Vy opened her eyes, Okita was already in the process of putting her back down to Earth, that same solemn smile on her face. "Of course, Master."

It felt like another promise Vy knew she had to keep.

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

"Emiya-kun! We need dinner!"

"Sheesh, even when possessed by a goddess, you're still so rude..."

Vy watched from afar as the other Servants slowly filed into the Novum Chaldea Dining Hall for dinner, her back against one of the hallway walls as her mental battery sputtered.

Maybe I should take a break from Ember Gathering for a while—

A soft whish of the air was all the signal she had before the scent of wood and smoke graced her nose. Coincidentally, a gloved hand rested on top of her head as a part of something green shaded half of her vision.

"...Robin?"

"You could go join them," Archer said softly. "You don't have to stay here, Vy."

"...Later." Vy tried to hold back a yawn. When it became obvious Robin Hood was staring holes into her head, though, she quietly amended the situation with a tiny, "When I have more energy, big Robin. Kinda operating on low social battery at the moment."

Plus Okii-san apparently hugs harder than most people, it seems.

The hand on her head patted her hair almost immediately. "Fine fine."

You should let yourself rest more before you try to take care of others, Master.

"Just, um. Big Robin?"

The headpatting stopped for a second. "What is it, little sparrow?"

As much as her heart was protesting at the selfishness of her brain, Vy still found herself admitting, "...Could I just stay with you for a bit? Don't wanna move for a while..."

Silence. Then, Robin Hood said in the most deadpan voice possible, "That sounds like you need a nap more than anything, Vy."

Vy tried not to grumble, ducking her head. She tried not to fidget once Robin's other hand reached up to her ponytail, undoing her hair tie to let all the long locks flow freely. "I know, I know... I love you too, Robin, just, less quip, more hug..."

Robin Hood paused, long enough for Vy to feel something in the air shift between them, before the hand on top of her head tugged her one way, enough for Vy's shoes to scuff the sides of the wall. In spite of the force, all Vy could do was blearily blink as soon as a faint kiss was pressed to her forehead.

Huh? "Robin...?"

"You selfless Master," Robin Hood muttered against the crown of her hair, arms winding around her waist to pull her to his chest. "Rest more for our sakes too, won't you? Killing yourself won't help anyone."

"I-I'm not killing myself when it's helping all of you find better things in life..."

Robin Hood sighed. Another kiss pressed against Vy's head, this time more noticeable to the point of her heart skipping a beat, before the No Face May King covered her shoulders. "Silly Master. Life is more than just giving things up for 'the better.'"

What will happen to us and that 'better' if you're not around to see it?

As much as Vy wanted to, she couldn't answer. Sleep was beckoning. The last thing she remembered before the peaceful darkness came was something gently brushing her lips. For all she knew, the sensation may as well have been the beginning of a dream.

#passing days #writing #okita souji alter #mastersona Vy #mash kyrielight #robin hood #robinvy #robvy #roby #hints of it #long post #short story #ishtar #archer emiya #vy plays fate grand order #fate grand order

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maybe-theres-hope · 3 years

Text

Of Will and Wildflowers, Part 1

Tarlos | period drama/grudging acquaintances to lovers | Part 1/3

Read on ao3

Thank you to @oquinn53 and @resiotcage for cheerleading and reading ahead of time. You both give me the motivation to keep going.

Title by @oquinn53 :)

By law, TK Strand cannot inherit his father’s railroad empire until he marries. He has absolutely no intention of finding a husband on their trip down to Texas, but he finds himself blindsided by Mr. Carlos Reyes, only son of Doña Marialena Reyes. The problem is that Mr. Reyes resents the Strands coming to buy up parcels of his family’s cattle estate to build a rail line on. TK is perfectly happy to leave him to stew in his anger, as he has no use to see the man after the end of the week. However, TK will find that the heart wants what it wants, and there’s rarely anything one can do about it.

Set in 1885

Below is an excerpt, full part 1 from the beginning is under the cut!

TK was astonished at his father’s ability to forgive anyone almost anything, but this was almost too far. Mr. Reyes had barely said a word at dinner, and that was only after he’d been forcibly pulled into conversation by Christina. Even then he’d talked of nothing but the weather and cattle movements, and he’d offered a mild chuckle at Elena’s story of her first time riding a horse. He’d spent the rest of the evening simultaneously staring at and avoiding TK.

TK knew this because he’d been doing the same, though he would sooner saw off his own hand than admit to it.

“He insulted us and called us names. He besmirched our honor. He wears brocade to ride in! What on earth makes him a good man?” TK huffed out a breath. He turned to see his father just smiling at him.

“He’s a good judge of a room, anyway. He seldom looked away from you,” Owen ribbed. TK could now see where this was heading. His own father was just as bad as the Doña trying to play matchmaker.

“Parents are far too successful in matching their children up economically, but when it comes to romance, parents are no better off than if they hadn’t known another eligible soul in the world,” TK recited.

“Oh, come now son, I’m not that insensitive! He’s handsome isn’t he?” his father returned, finally dropping the ruse and showing his true colors.

“Handsomeness does not a happy home make,” TK recited again.

“You’ve been reading too many Dame Juliette columns.”

“And you’ve been trying to plot my marriage since we were on the train, and the minute you saw a handsome son on this estate you’ve sealed my fate, have you?” TK groused.

At this, Owen softened his face. “I am sorry for being a bit pushy, but Mr. Reyes is the first man you’ve so much as made eye contact with of late. Is it so odd to wonder what about him brought you out of your self-imposed melancholy?”

“Who said I was out of my melancholy?”

“Your eyes whenever they met his.” Owen’s face was serious, no longer teasing.

“He makes me angry, is all. Anger is an emotion.”

“Yes. Yes it is.” And with that, Owen turned to climb into his own bed, the conversation abruptly halted and TK left wondering what his father thought he’d concluded from their exchange.

Lying on his own mattress across the hall, TK wondered at emotion. Sure, anger was an emotion. A useful one. But so was love, and he was determined to hold out for it.

Part 1

“Ms. Mercer’s proposal looks promising,” Owen says, mostly to himself but loud enough to include TK in the conversation, should he wish to participate. “And Mr. and Mr. Felton-Lowman have quite a sprawl, though it does look to contain more elevation than I was hoping. I thought all of Texas was supposed to be flat?” Owen muses as he tosses the papers back onto his makeshift desk.

TK is only half listening, choosing instead to stare morosely out the window at the passing countryside of the American South, eyes at intervals tracking livestock in the fields and lingering drips from this morning’s light storm rolling down the glass window of the lavish Pullman they’ve commandeered as their vessel for this journey. His father, bless his soul, had tried to get TK to care more about the business as of late, and truth be told, TK was very interested in the workings of his father’s company and he did take great pride in being able to inherit it someday and make his father proud. It was just that recently, he’d had his heart thoroughly crushed by an absolute rake of a man and he’d rather wallow in self pity than think about geological surveys and boundaries for livestock movements.

TK heard his father sigh, a sure sign that a lecture was coming soon. TK took a breath and held it.

“I wish you’d forget about that awful boy, Tyler. You wouldn’t have wanted a life with him anyway. His family was barely polite at best, and scandalous at their worst. Honestly, you got out on the good side of things.” TK wanted to say that he didn’t care about things like status and scandal, he cared about love and commitment.

Turns out all Alexander had been able to commit to was his harem of stable boys and footmen that TK had known nothing about until it was too late.

TK blew out his breath. He knew his father meant well. Owen Strand was not overbearing as some other fathers were, especially with an only child upon whom everything rested. He wished his son to be happy and settled, is all. TK knew this, and still he couldn’t help his sullen reply.

“Yes, father, I shall just forget. Forget every sweet nothing and every second and third dance. Forget every promise and every earnest declaration. Forget that it was all a lie. Yes, my mind shall be rid of Alexander’s presence by sundown. Then we shall celebrate. How simple.” He knew he was being unreasonable, but he wanted to be angry for a while. He’d only found Alexander with Mrs. Howell’s second footman three days earlier. It still stung.

As the train rattled on, closer to a place that TK was of a mind to understand was so far from proper civilization as to be considered exotic, he felt his father’s disappointment cling to him. That hurt worse than what he’d seen Alexander and the footman doing--which was something for which he was sure a name had not been invented yet.

“I’m sorry, father. It’s just that you’ve set this deadline for me with no explanation as to why, and I don’t want to let you down but I’m afraid I’ll never find the right man for me. I had thought it would be Mr. Thompson, but I was mistaken. Sorely mistaken.”

At this, TK looked up to catch his father’s soft look of commiseration. “I know you’re feeling overwhelmed, but you are getting on in age. Most boys are married off by three and twenty, and you’ve gone nearly four years past that. I’m not going to be around forever, you know. You need to secure a match that makes you happy, but you’ll need to do it sooner rather than later.”

“Why, father? Why must I rush such a momentous decision? You are in perfect health! I have another five or ten at least!” At this, he caught a very minute shift in his father’s countenance, something like pain, but it was gone in an instant. His father was the most stoic man TK had ever had occasion to meet; if he was in pain at all, no one would ever know. It must have been a trick of the flickering pre-dusk light coming through the windows of the train car. Owen took on a playful tone.

“Five or ten? What respectable young lad would want to marry a man of thirty-five? You’d practically be spinster by then,” he joked fondly.

“You’re a good deal past thirty-five and I’ve still seen twenty year old Miss Brinkman making eyes at you across the dancefloor of an evening. If I’ve inherited your genes I’ve nothing to fear,” TK shot back with a barely there smirk.

“Thank heaven for us all, but you’ve got your mother’s beauty. I couldn’t have asked for better,” Owen said quietly. TK’s mother had been gone these past ten years. A bout with pneumonia that the doctors could not cure had taken her from them. “But you do have my charm, I’ll allow you that. You should put it to use down south. Perhaps a cattle baron might catch your eye?”

“Oh by God, no. I couldn’t imagine whiling away my days on a smelly farm trying to read reports by moonlight and taking my sullen and fatigued husband to bed only for him to fall asleep minutes after his head hits the pillow. No romance in hard labor, that’s for sure.” TK shuddered a bit to think of life on an actual farm, constantly smelling of hay and manure like some streetsweeper back in Manhattan.

“I do believe successful cattle barons can afford more than a few tawdry tallows, Tyler,” Owen quipped with a smirk before turning his attention back to the maps and surveys scattered in front of him. The conversation that, just moments ago, had been fraught with uncertainty and earnestness seemed to flutter into the wind. TK and his father were like that most times: they’d lay things out on the table between them, and if it clearly couldn’t be resolved in a single good-natured quarrel, they both gave themselves time to regroup to resume the discussion at a later date.

For this particular subject, TK was coming to think of that ‘later date’ as a cuff slowly tightening around his wrist, the chain binding him to his destiny getting shorter and shorter.

He looked down at his hands, privileged hands that hadn’t had to do much manual labor in his life, save for the few times his father took him to the yards to show him how things were run. Owen, on the other hand, was an entirely self-made man, who saved and invested his earnings working for Vanderbilt and made enough to purchase his first railcar at just twenty. He contracted it with the Erie and charged passengers thirty-five cents for passage between New York and Boston. From there it only grew, to what was now a very respectable business, looking to lay lines of their own. Perhaps not the largest--that was still Vanderbilt’s claim--but certainly a player on the board.

And it would all be TK’s if he could just hurry up and fall in love already.

_______

The carriage from the station drove them twenty miles through gorgeous hill country. The cattle and horses grazed on rolling plains that swelled gently as they approached the horizon. It was warm, but not unbearable, which TK attributed to the absence of industry steaming and smoking and saturating the very air in one’s lungs as it did in Manhattan. Furthermore, despite the over-abundance of livestock surrounding them, the smell was far more pleasant than he was used to. TK could not help but conclude upon this observation that maybe it was not the horses that stunk, but the people. After all, fresh air was a luxury very few could afford, and they usually had to go thousands of miles to get it, such as he and his father were doing now.

Still, he held to his earlier affirmation that he could not see himself making a life in a place such as this. Despite the fact that he’d concluded they apparently smelled horrid, TK loved being around people. He supposed that was to be attributed to being an only child, and having no siblings underfoot to raise ruckus and otherwise pierce the silence that hung heavy over their home of late. Even though he’d not experienced that kind of life, he’d always hoped to make a large family of his own, his husband and he adopting ten or more children to raise and fawn over. TK had never considered for a moment that he wouldn’t be a father, regardless of his proclivity for finding only men attractive in any way. Some of that persuasion chose to remain as partners only, bequeathing their fortunes, such as they were, to their universities or other charitable pursuits. But TK had always wanted a house full of mouths to feed and hearts to warm.

He dreamed about the day when he could look over at his husband, gray-haired and body-bent, and smile at what they’d created.

Except it did not seem as though he would be acquiring a husband any time soon, and that thought vexed him more than he let on to his father. Yes, he agreed that he was getting on in years as far as marriageable age for young bachelors was concerned, but his one universal truth was that he would not settle for someone who was not the love of his life. That conviction, though others called it foolish, was the great constant that ran through every interaction TK had with any handsome man he happened upon.

He was determined to uphold that promise to himself, no matter how many years passed. If the right one came along, he’d know it. No matter for the moment, anyway, as he was doubly sure he’d not meet the love of his life in the middle of cattle country.

As the carriage rounded another gentle swell, a rather large bright structure came into view. TK put his hand up to shield his eyes for a moment, as it seemed the very sun shone out of the building. As they drew closer to the drive—lined with giant oak trees on each side like twenty such sentries—it became apparent that the house was not radiating light, but reflecting it. Every upright surface was covered with glittering textured limestone, something TK had seen here and there on their travels through the southern states. Also something they had encountered before was a grievously oversized stoop—which these people called porches—that spanned the entire width of the house, and it was evident that it wrapped around to the sides as well. It was dotted here and there with rocking chairs and benches, each with a wool blanket or cushion thrown haphazardly onto the seat to aid the sitter’s comfort on the otherwise hard wood surface.

They reached the house after a long drive up, and the carriage deposited them at the bottom of the steps up to the grand estate. TK had seen mansions in Manhattan and beyond, but this house was like a full government building. It was massive. He wondered how many people lived here.

As their driver helped them from the carriage and began to let down their luggage, a shriek of delight could be heard just inside the door. TK jumped for a moment, not expecting such a sound in such a peaceful place, before he was bombarded with the view of three bright young ladies in finely detailed seersucker and bustled skirts.

“Oh, you’ve arrived at last!” the one who looked to be the eldest exclaimed. She was tall, at least half a foot taller than the other two, with ink black hair tied up in neat chignon. Her sleeves accented delicate wrists and her waist was nipped down modestly. She smiled like TK and his father arriving was akin to a grand parade, when really they resembled world-weary travelers who could barely un-stoop their backs from so long inside the carriage. The other two young ladies—girls really—giggled behind their hands. They bore a strong resemblance to the elder; certainly they were all sisters.

Ever the gentleman, TK removed his hat to gesture to the ladies, who gave curtsies in answer. Owen did the same, and received curtsies that went just a bit deeper. “Good afternoon, ladies,” Owen called with a smile. “I was told I could meet directly with Doña Marialena upon our arrival.” He quirked his eyebrow up in question, even though it was perfectly plain that none of these girls was old enough to be the proprietor of this estate, unless they had been sorely deceived. TK thought he might admire someone capable of extending that sort of ruse for as long as they’d been corresponding with the Doña. But alas, a moment later, a much older woman who resembled quite strikingly all three ladies gathered on the porch emerged from the wide open front door.

The Doña was an intimidating woman on her own, but the height afforded her by their current positions made it seem even more so. TK tucked his hat into his elbow and bowed low, following his father’s action. The older woman bent her knees a bit, and TK noticed she did not descend the steps to meet them, but instead kept her position above, behind her daughters.

“Welcome to La Hacienda Reyes, gentlemen,” she intoned in a very slightly accented, gravelly voice. It should have sounded harsh, but it just sounded well-used, as though she’d employed it many times to shout at her daughters for their impropriety at scurrying out to meet guests on the lawn without their bonnets, as she looked apt to do right this very second. TK did not mind their state of dress so much, as rules were getting a little more lax for the younger set these days, especially in the city. Though, now that he thought about it, these country folk might be a mite more traditional, but he let the thought fade into obscurity as the Doña smiled softly down at him a moment later, as if sharing a secret.

He and Owen approached the steps as the Doña descended to meet them. Owen made their introductions as TK took her hand in his, giving a small bow as was customary. He let his father lead the conversation as he made his way over to the daughters assembled on the lawn. He kissed each of their hands in turn, learning that their names were Christina, Elena, and Raquel, from eldest to youngest. He was also informed that Christina was not the eldest in the household; her sister Rosa was ten years her senior and married, and she and her wife were summering on the East Coast.

As Christina regaled TK with how wonderful and filled with revelry their visit was to be, a lone figure appeared at the edge of his vision, galloping up quite swiftly on horseback. The animal was beautiful, sleek and black and moving with its rider as though they were one. As they drew closer, Christina also lit on to the approaching figure.

“Oh, there’s my brother. Mamà will have his head for not meeting you directly, as the man of the house should. Even though he won’t inherit, she still insists he accompany her when seeing to the business of the estate, especially when Rosa is away.”

“I’m sure he had urgent business to attend,” TK offered, however he did not know what kind of business a man in fine brocade—as he could now see the golden threads shining in the Texas sun—would have out in the fields. “We did arrive earlier than expected, I believe. Our apologies.”

“Oh, no. He wished to stay away. I’m of right mind to assume he thought we’d already be inside by now and that’s why he’s made his appearance, and he’ll be sorely thwarted to see us still about.” She fought to hide a smirk, and TK was intrigued. However, he didn’t have time to contemplate on the apparent lack of manners of the man of the house before the man in question was upon them.

He was invariably handsome, that much was clear on his approach. He had tanned skin that shone in the rays of the afternoon sun, and curls atop his beautiful head that caught that same light and transformed into blacks and browns and golds as he moved. He was fit and tall, as TK could tell even from his seat on the horse, and he commanded an air about him that sang with regality. As he disembarked from the saddle, TK was struck dumb at the fluidity of his movements. It was as if he was still galloping along with the horse, moving slowly and rapidly at the same time, body deliberately placing itself where it needed to be rather than flinging his limbs about as some proud men were wont to do when they felt the urge to assert their authority.

As he turned to face the gathered group and at last revealed his face from a close angle, TK was struck dumb. This man was gorgeous. Exquisite. A dream made flesh. TK could all of a sudden imagine what this man looked like when he smiled, when he was upset, when he was elated, when he cried. He could picture a thousand candlelit dinners at the Fifth Avenue Hotel across from this man, surreptitiously dragging their toes against one another under the table, faces and hearts alight with the impropriety of doing such a thing in public, but being too enamored of each other to care.

He could picture all of this so clearly and crisply that he could almost smell the gardenia adorning the little vase upon the table. That was, until the man opened his mouth.

“Gentlemen,” he spit, as though the word were a curse upon their persons. He turned to the Doña and intoned in a volume that was surely meant to be overheard but made as if to seem secretive, “Mother, I thought you said only one was coming. We must entertain two greedy industrialist blackguards for the whole of the week when we’ve not even fully migrated the herd?”

At this, Doña Marialena did not even flinch. She simply leaned in closer to her son and spit out a quick succession of words no doubt meant to silence his gaucherie, but which only served to wind his already pinched countenance into a tighter knot. When their short exchange had ceased, he looked mildly chastised but still as though he would rather be anywhere than here, meeting TK and his father on the front lawn. However, after receiving that nearly silent dressing down from his mother in front of their guests, he screwed his face into a more acceptable visage, and approached Owen, who was holding out his hand.

Doña Marialena made their introductions, “Carlos, this is Owen Strand and his son, TK. Mr. Strand, this is my son Carlos. Please excuse his horrendous manners.”

Carlos took Owen’s hand. “Welcome to our Hacienda, sirs. You are from New York, is that correct?”

“We are. Nearly a fortnight’s journey to get here, but it was beautiful country to pass through,” Owen answered in a friendly tone, unfettered by the exchange of impropriety that had just taken place and determined to move into more friendly territory.

“Ah, well. Let us hope your trip was not in vain,” Carlos answered with a barely there sneer. He turned to TK and offered his hand as Owen and the women turned to shuffle inside the house.

“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Reyes. I hope we can find some mutual agreement that is beneficial to all in this endeavor,” TK said solemnly while shaking the man’s hand. He’d abruptly become determined to dispense with all amorous thoughts of this abhorrent man. He and his father were here to do business, attend a party or two, and leave with contract in hand, and nothing more.

“There is nothing beneficial to my family about breaking off pieces of our home to sell to ardent capitalists,” Carlos hissed in a volume meant only for TK. “My grandfather’s blood is boiling in his grave as we speak.”

“Well then I suppose it is advantageous for us that you are not the one making decisions about the estate. Your mother seems quite keen to receive the compensation of ‘ardent capitalists’, as you say. Perhaps there are some issues with the household which require assistance which you, as third born, were not made privy to, sir.” TK could not help himself, and shot back the jab without thinking it through. It was ill-bred talk of money in the open, and much more so to bring it up in a first meeting, but Mr. Reyes was the one who’d alluded to finances first, so TK felt little remorse upon seeing the other man’s face flash with indignation.

Mr. Reyes looked as though he wished to lob one last verbal volley at TK, but seemed to think better of it which was a surprise given his utter lack of tact until that moment. He turned away from TK with a last look of barely tempered rage in his brown eyes and made his way up the steps and into the house.

TK followed, determined not to ponder on why that look had given him gooseflesh in a way that did not suggest fear for one’s life, but rather intrigue at what other thinly veiled emotions his own words could make those eyes flash with.

_______

Dinner was a modestly lavish affair. The table was adorned with yellow roses, to symbolize friendship and cooperation, which TK thought was a nice touch from the staff yet ultimately ineffective.

Well, possibly not entirely ineffective, as his father was currently wooing and entertaining the four women at the table with his usual easy charm, and they all seemed to be devouring his anecdotes and quips with good spirts.

It was Mr. Reyes that seemed out of sorts with the rest of the party. Even TK himself was beginning to forget their fraught exchange on the lawn and give in to the revelry of the evening. Truth be told he was glad to be at table with someone other than his father, who tended to give him pitiful looks and well-meaning advice about his recently broken heart. TK also had to admit that along with the laughing women, even Carlos himself was a nice change. His presence gave TK something to focus on other than thinking of his failed chance at happiness.

As it was, TK had already forgotten that he’d vowed he would not focus on Mr. Reyes at all.

“Your father tells me you are six-and-twenty and still a bachelor? How ever have you managed that?” The Doña asked across the table. Given his current preoccupation, TK didn’t even take the slightest bit of offense from the statement. It was helped along by the kind look in her eyes.

He gave a bashful chuckle. “Hard work and perseverance, ma’am,” he joked, and the table laughed along with him, save for one. “I’ve simply not encountered the right match, I’m afraid.”

“If he was married to the work, I’d be less anxious, but alas…” Owen trailed off with a good natured smile. Even with all his father’s nagging, TK knew in his heart that his father wanted his son to be happy and unhurried in choosing a husband.

“I’m holding out for my perfect compliment. Is that so naive?”

“Maybe not for a man in such good standing as you. I’m sure you have suitors left and right vying for your attention, Mr. Strand,” Elena said from across the table.

“I’m afraid at the moment I am quite unadorned with neither suitors nor passing interest,” he answered her.

“I, too, am similarly afflicted,” Elena mourned with a sigh. TK thought she couldn’t have been more than seven-and-ten, quite young to be so concerned. Then again he thought perhaps the country was different than the city. The Doña was mature to be sure, but she looked much younger than he’d thought a woman with a child of more than thirty years—as had been hinted about the absent Rosa—would look. She must have been wed around Elena’s age after all.

“Oh hush, sister. Your situation is not nearly as dire as mine,” Christina said. She placed the back of her hand to her forehead in an affected swoon. “Whenever shall I leave the nest?”

“When someone who possesses such a lack of wits that it precludes them from knowing better comes to sweep you off your feet,” said Raquel. Her sister gave her a scathing look before smirking and presumably kicking her lightly under the table. The younger sister just giggled and went back to her meal.

As TK watched the family interact, lightly teasing each other good-naturedly but never outright insulting each other, he could sense the love and connection among them. Oh, how he longed for a large family such as this someday. Surrounded by his children and their love for each other that ran so deep as to assure each and every one of them that no matter what was said in jest, they were always seeded first in the minds of the rest.

Even with all the lighthearted conversation going on at table, the sole Reyes son was still silent. TK thought it odd that such a stoic, contemptible man could be born into a family of such vibrant women; he was surrounded by their vivacity every day and still he was unmoved to even smile into his potatoes at their revelry. The rest of them also seemed to sense that Mr. Reyes did not wish to partake in the lively conversation, as none of them moved to include him. The Doña glanced to her son every now and then, and TK couldn’t have said her expression looked reproachful (as he would have agreeably afforded her) but it did not look content either.

Perhaps this was not usual behavior for Mr. Reyes. If that was so, then it really was the Strands’ arrival that had put him out of sorts and TK had no recourse to remedy that at present. He and his father were here for business that must be conducted, and Mr. Reyes would just have to live with that.

The Doña had apparently noticed TK going quiet among the ruckus and subsequently had noticed his earlier gaze flickering around the family accompanied by a soft smile. It seemed as though she’d misinterpreted his attentions, however.

“Perhaps the perfect compliment is sooner encountered than you think.” She gave a very slight incline of her head, seemingly meant to indicate Christina, who was sitting to her right and had proceeded to blush so profusely TK was momentarily concerned for her health. He endeavored to be diplomatic but firm against the Doña’s clear initiative, which was impossible for anyone at the table to miss.

“Ah, your family is lovely, Doña, but I fear your son and I would need to converse at length before we could find views on which we do not differ at the moment.” It was part lighthearted joke, part barely concealed jab at Carlos, and part signal of his preferences, so as not to invite any more ideas about betrothing him to one of the daughters.

Alas, he did not miss the Doña’s sharp eye turn to her son before landing back on himself in quick succession. Given their greeting, the Doña should not rightly expect there to be any amorous feeling available between them. Her face relaxed after a moment, and she returned her gaze to the rest of the table. TK did not feel cowed, per se, but the weight of her scrutiny could still be felt upon his cheeks. He was immediately given to wonder what could be contained behind those steady brown eyes, so like her son’s.

As the conversation resumed—Christina was finally ribbing her brother for his lack of mirth this evening—yet again TK found himself studying Carlos Reyes, handsome specimen that he was. But the cut of a man’s jaw and the shine of his eyes did not a welcome companion make, in TK’s view. Sure, he’d lost himself for a moment in the man’s fluidity of movement, the low timbre of his voice, the fire in his expression. But the measure of a man is in his actions, not his appearance. A man can appear any way he wants to; it is his behavior that epitomizes his character. Carlos Reyes had shown himself to be headstrong, closed-off, and prejudiced. TK had no use for such a personality. Carlos could while and wallow away his days alone for all TK cared. He would leave here with no attachments and that would not be a hardship.

Just at that moment, the man in question met his eyes. They stared for a moment, caught in some trap of unconscious strain, seemingly bound to the attempt to find the measure of each other in a single look. When TK looked away first, he felt as if he’d lost some contest.

When he chanced a glance toward the man again, he found his gaze hadn’t wavered but was now more open than it had been since they’d met, which admittedly was not to say much.

Later that night, when Christina had shown them to their guest rooms, Owen made an observation as they dressed for bed.

“The girls are quite well-bred,” he stated, apropos of nothing. The caliber of the family had no bearing on the land, therefore it was of little interest to them in coming into this negotiation. At least, that is what TK believed. His father, it was apparent, thought differently. “And Doña Marialena is a fine head of the household. She has taught her children well.”

At this, TK scoffed.

“And her son is quite adept, don’t you agree?” Owen continued as he hung his dinner jacket away. “A good man who knows the value of family and home.”

TK could not let this statement slide. “A good man? He’s an absolute cad!”

“Oh? He was perfectly cordial during dinner. There was that snafu when we arrived, but that was cleared up quickly. I say, he’s a fine man.” TK was astonished at his father’s ability to forgive anyone almost anything, but this was almost too far. Mr. Reyes had barely said a word at dinner, and that was only after he’d been forcibly pulled into conversation by Christina. Even then he’d talked of nothing but the weather and cattle movements, and he’d offered a mild chuckle at Elena’s story of her first time riding a horse. He’d spent the rest of the evening simultaneously staring at and avoiding TK.

TK knew this because he’d been doing the same, though he would sooner saw off his own hand than admit to it.

“Oh, come now son, I’m not that insensitive! He’s handsome isn’t he?” his father returned, finally dropping the ruse and showing his true colors.

“Handsomeness does not a happy home make,” TK recited again.

“You’ve been reading too many Dame Juliette columns.”

“And you’ve been trying to plot my marriage since we were on the train, and the minute you saw a handsome son on this estate you’ve sealed my fate, have you?” TK groused.

“Who said I was out of my melancholy?”

“Your eyes whenever they met his.” Owen’s face was serious, no longer teasing.

“He makes me angry, is all. Anger is an emotion.”

“Yes. Yes it is.” And with that, Owen turned to climb into his own bed, the conversation abruptly halted and TK left wondering what his father thought he’d concluded from their exchange.

Lying on his own mattress across the hall, TK wondered at emotion. Sure, anger was an emotion. A useful one. But so was love, and he was determined to hold out for it.

_______

The morning after their first night in La Hacienda Reyes, TK woke with renewed energy to be devoted to forgetting Carlos Reyes even existed.

This endeavor proved extremely difficult when upon descending the stairs to the foyer, the man in question was seemingly awaiting him, pacing across the marble floor with agitated clicks of his boots. The sight brought TK up short, and he consequently forgot that his father was just behind him, causing Owen to collide into his back and sending TK tripping down the last two steps��

Straight into Mr. Reyes’ arms. They were pressed together so tightly for a moment that TK swore he could feel the other man’s exhales as they left his nostrils, softly caressing TK’s cheek as they went. One of his hands was gripped tightly on TK’s shoulder while the other had instantly wound its way around his waist to steady him.

It took TK an inordinate amount of time to catch his breath, all the while feeling that very firm body against his. As his senses returned, he felt himself blaze with the most furious blush at the proximity, and hurried to right himself. He nearly butted his head into the other man’s nose in the process, but proceeded to stand upright without further incident. He set about straightening his waistcoat before looking up and catching Mr. Reyes’ eye almost by mistake.

The other man seemed just as red in the face as he. They held each other’s gaze for a split second longer before TK was violently reminded that the incident had not happened in private, but that the whole of the ghastly encounter was overseen by his own father.

Owen asked, much too late in TK’s opinion, “Are you alright son? I apologize for being so clumsy there,” he added in address to Mr. Reyes.

The man of the house was the first of the pair at the bottom of the stairs to regain use of his tongue. “It’s quite alright, sir. No harm done.”

“That’s true, as you were here to prevent it. Lucky, that.”

TK thought to himself that he would like to disappear from this mortal plane rather than be party to his father’s smug innuendos, especially after their conversation last night and TK’s renewed vows of thoroughly avoiding the man of this house.

Mr Reyes, however, seemed unattuned to Mr. Strand’s jabs, and simply addressed them both again cordially.

“Good morning to you both, I hope you slept well.” They replied that they had, as was proper, despite TK’s own thoughts. He wasn’t about to share that . “I’ve actually come to offer you a tour of the grounds at my mother’s behest, and also in apology for my unmitigated rudeness upon your arrival.”

TK was inclined to believe the apology was also at the Doña’s behest, if not absolutely forced. She seemed a formidable enough woman to demand decorum from her adult son.

“I understand your company is pursuing the land in the northwest quadrant of the estate. It would be my pleasure to take you there so that you can survey at your leisure.”

“So early?” Owen asked. They had not yet broke fast.

“Yes sir, in order to avoid the humidity of midday, I thought we’d ride out closer to dawn. Our cook has packed some provisions in lieu of the breakfast meal.” At this, he gestured to a medium sized basket atop a side table by the door, apparently from which the scent of bacon—as TK had just caught on the air—was emanating.

To be quite honest with himself—which he would admit much, much later was not very honest at all—TK was not at all looking forward to spending the morning with Mr. Reyes and his ridiculously dashing seat on a horse. His father being there would temper his mood, but he’d rather spend the day walking about on his own, soaking in the fresh air and solitude of the country. Or even alongside his father and the Doña, negotiating the sale of her land, as Owen had expressed his desire that TK begin immersing himself in the business and he saw no better time than now, in avoidance of any extra time spent in Mr. Reyes’ presence.

The man made him hot around the collar and jittery, and the real problem was that TK was even more angry that neither of those emotions were particularly loathsome at the moment and he could not explain to himself why.

“That sounds like an excellent idea, Mr. Reyes. Unfortunately, I really must sit down with your mother and ask her about some specifics regarding the provenances, so I must decline your kind offer.” At this, he turned to TK, who was already giving him wide eyes of panic before he even opened his mouth. “TK, would you be so kind as to accompany Mr. Reyes around the property? You know the general gist of what we are looking for, and you can report back to me with what you find. I’d really appreciate your help on this, TK.”

The man was practically grinning like a fool. TK thought he might keel over right there on the marble tiles of the Reyes’ foyer.

Mr. Reyes’ face was unreadable at the moment, but TK could imagine the line of his thoughts. The two of them no more wanted to spend time with each other alone than either would want a hole in the head.

Mr. Reyes, however, was the first to recover from the abrupt change in plan, with a direct capitulation that TK could have punched him for, had he been a less tactful man. “That…would be agreeable,” he said haltingly. He turned to look at TK, who schooled his countenance into something less vile than he felt this turn of events warranted. “Would that please you, Mr. Strand?”

Would it please him? Absolutely not.

“Of course, Mr. Reyes,” he said tightly, resigned to his fate. “I look forward to seeing your lovely estate and hearing its history.”

Mr. Reyes looked almost surprised at his cordiality, and TK congratulated himself on his capability of social falsehood.

_______

Their journey was to take them from the back of the house out and around the northwest corner of the ranchland where they would stop to breakfast at a small manmade lake and then south to the orchards, through which they would find themselves back at the west side of the house. All told, Carlos informed him, the trip would take them for six miles. TK resigned himself to a morning of misery, and judging by his would-be companion’s face, he was not alone in that regard.

Their basket of provisions securely fastened to Mr. Reyes’ saddle, and both saddles securely fastened to their mares, the pair set off in silence other than Owen’s shout of farewell from the porch.

They strolled along at a leisurely pace—too slow for TK’s regard—for quite a while before either spoke. Mr. Reyes looked over to TK with a judgemental eye before saying, “Watch for snakes in the grass. Flor will not spook at them, but she will spook if you do.”

“I’m not afraid of snakes,” TK snapped, although he couldn’t rightly say he’d ever seen one up close. “Furthermore, I am high on this horse, why would I worry about something as low as a snake?”

“Rattlers can jump. They’ll have your boot off and will have half devoured your leg before you can think to turn the horse.”

TK whirled to look at him, consequently causing Flor to twist toward Mr. Reyes and Jimena, putting them much closer than TK would like after their bout that morning. He knew his face was a mask of barely concealed horror, the image Mr. Reyes’ words had conjured up no less than tremendously frightening to a city gentleman.

Mr. Reyes’ face, however, was all mirth; his cheeks were reddening in the effort of holding back his obvious laughter, which he gave up the moment TK noticed his ruse.

“That was a bold-faced lie and you are a scoundrel for it,” TK muttered, feeling teased.

“I’ll take that judgement just to see the terror on your face again,” Mr. Reyes laughed. TK was determined not to acknowledge that the man had a nice laugh, a full bodied, soft-edged one that sent warmth down to the tips of TK’s toes. TK was also determined to keep the scowl upon his face for the whole of this journey, never mind the wrinkles he was likely to develop. Curse this loathsome cowboy and his ill intentions and his shining curls and his full lips. They lapsed into silence again for another half mile.

In his endeavor to ignore his companion, TK failed to notice how he was being closely regarded by said companion. He should have been able to feel the gaze upon the side of his face like sunlight as heavy and warm as it was, but alas he remained ignorant of it in favor of the beautiful countryside.

TK began to notice little strains of wildflowers growing on the gentle swells of hills here and there, their elevations no more than four or five feet. It was like looking at someone’s floral bedding that had been disturbed in sleep and not righted in the morning; soft, loved, and lived in, a safe place to come back to at the end of the day, a warm comfort to calm the tumultuous stresses one was apt to battle in the waking hours.

“The red and orange ones that reach toward the sky are called Indian Paintbrush,” Mr. Reyes intoned softly causing TK to turn his gaze away from the flowers in a startle. It had been so quiet he’d almost forgotten his company. “There,” Mr. Reyes pointed, urging TK to return his focus to the flowers. “That line there is all paintbrush. And the purple spiked ones are Horsemint.”

“Why are they so named? Do they taste of mint?” TK wondered aloud.

“I’m…not sure. I’ve never had occasion or urge to eat one. Perhaps the name means only horses would taste the mint, but Flor and Jimena do not seem so inclined either.” His chuckle was tacked on at the end, but it didn’t feel accusatory this time. It sounded as if TK had honestly stumped him with his question and he was considering the answer in earnest, but had ultimately come up short of a correct guess.

TK focused again on the sweeping little hills as they continued to trot along. “And the pink ones? What are they called?”

“Ah, I believe those are Evening Primrose. Those are the most prominent of the wildflowers here, as I’m sure you can tell. Quite boring to look at compared to the others, but a constant nonetheless.” His tone gave TK the impression that he, too, found the fields of flowers calming. It would make sense, seeing as this was his homeland. Or…was it?

“Have you always lived here? Or did your family come into the property recently?”

“My great-grandfather purchased the land at a pretty steep discount in twenty-six, just a couple of years after the Colonization Law took effect. He came far enough north that he wouldn’t be too crowded in with the rest of his countrymen, and settled the bit to the south of us, where the house is located. He did build it, but it was not as large as it is now. It’s been expanded with both generations since, I believe.”

“Your great-grandfather came from Mexico to settle?”

“Technically, this was Mexico still when he came, since the war for Independence was not won until thirty-six. But yes, he came from Guadalajara. He thought less over cultivated land would suit better for cattle ranching, and it turns out he was right. We now have three hundred head.” His voice was proud as he recounted the story, and TK was drawn in by the clear reverence he had for his family history. He wanted to hear more, so he asked after how the estate came to be so large.

“My grandfather negotiated the rest of the land from the tribes settled here at the time, which admittedly were so few in number that the endeavor was swift. He offered them fifty head and a handsome cash sum as well, and the deal was struck in accord. The tribe moved north to the central territories and are still there today I believe. We’ve had a few high ranking members as visitors in my youth, and they were always amiable and welcome.”

Mr. Reyes’ soft smile had drawn TK’s attention again and this time he let himself look. The man practically glowed as he talked of his heritage, his family, and it was rather intoxicating. TK wanted to ask after more, but it seemed they’d reach the aforementioned lake that they were to stop and break their fast beside. He allowed Flor to carry them to a stop at a suitable spot and dismounted, again allowing himself to watch as Mr. Reyes did the same. He was taken in by the same fluidity and grace as he had been the day previous, before their awful actual meeting.

TK was finding it hard to remember Mr. Reyes being crass yesterday, no matter how hard he tried.

In tandem, they spread out an extra saddle blanket in the grass, still slightly damp from the morning dew. Their provisions were divvied up and tea was poured into metal cups, and TK was just about to take his first sip when Mr. Reyes spoke, and his tone bade TK listen carefully.

“Mr. Strand—“

Without rightfully thinking about it, TK interrupted him with, “Please, you should call me TK. Well, my name is Tyler, but only my father calls me that. Friends call me TK.”

Mr. Reyes looked taken aback for a moment, possibly at the implication of friends , but TK kept his face impassive. He’d not have them making a mountain out of a grain of sand such as a name. They were to be business acquaintances anyway, and they should address each other as such. All of Owen’s partners called him by his first name, so TK took a page from his book by extending the offer. It would help keep his mind firmly on their business relationship.

It absolutely was not so he could hear his name, both sharp consonants of it, softened in Mr. Reyes’ steady timbre.

“TK,” he corrected, and the named man swallowed a sigh at being proven right about the sound of it coming off those lips. “I would like to—that is, I am committed to—well, what I would like to say is—“ he halted, frowning down at an apple clutched in his own hand. He set the apple aside, and turned to TK directly.

“TK, I mean to sincerely apologize for my behavior yesterday. It was rude and judgmental without cause, and I am sorry. I hope you can forgive me that transgression, as I do hope we are able to work together seamlessly in this partnership.”

It seemed sincere, TK thought. The man’s eyes were fervent and his face was open in a way it hadn’t been since the Strands had arrived. For a moment, TK was lost in those eyes that reflected the climbing sunrise off the water of the small lake like Mr. Reyes was radiating the warmth of goodwill through his very irises. His eyes were soft, inviting, shining with their earnestness. It was a long moment before he spoke, which Mr. Reyes seemed to take as reservation but was in fact TK pure preoccupation with studying the man’s face at the most inappropriate of times.

“I do hope I haven’t ruined things between my family and yours,” Mr. Reyes went on. “It’s just that I—well I’m quite attached to my home here and my pride is tied up in what my forefathers accomplished.”

“To see it broken up and sold off is to admit defeat that this generation could not hold the line,” TK finished for him, and his eyes grew wide.

“Yes, precisely.”

“I have misgivings about that kind of thing also. My father built such a tremendous enterprise—nothing like the Vanderbilts of course, but sprawling in reach nonetheless. I…find myself at times overwhelmed with the prospect of taking it on alone.” It must have been the country air, the absence of all human life for a few miles, and the still burgeoning sunrise combined that made his tongue so loose with such intimate thoughts. Surely he was losing control of his faculties if he was given to sharing his heart in this way, TK mused.

Even so, Mr. Reyes’ face had not closed off yet; it remained open and inviting to those thoughts and perhaps welling up with some of his own to share, now that the barrier had lost a few bricks and they could see each other over their respective sides of the wall they’d built over the previous day and evening.

“But, you won’t do it alone, will you? You cannot inherit until you marry, by law,” Mr. Reyes reminded him. Those deep brown eyes were on him again, somehow more liquid than before. TK must be imagining things now. He blinked the line of thought away.

“Yes, that’s true. But who’s to say I’ll marry a man who wants to be involved in the railroad business? My true love may be a man of the arts, constantly shut away in his studio creating pieces to adorn our home and teaching our children to appreciate the craft of them. Or he may be a man strongly devoted to politics and spend months away from home campaigning for the betterment of the American people. Or he may prefer the country life to the city, and I must remain in the city for the business for the bulk of the year. So you see, I may yet end up running the business alone, even if my life will not be spent in solitude. If I marry for love, I’ll be glad of that connection regardless if I get help with the business. Help is not what I’ll be marrying; it will be companionship outside of worldly endeavors that will make it worthwhile.” The picture he’d painted for himself inside his head was content, and he noticed he’d closed his eyes for a moment while he’d intimated the details to Mr. Reyes.

When he opened his eyes and refocused on his company, he saw Mr. Reyes duck his head slightly, a faint blush high on his tanned cheekbones. TK wondered if the other man was embarrassed of the intimate turn their conversation had taken, and hurried to move them to more casual topics.

“I do apologize, Mr. Reyes, I did not mean to be overly familiar with you. God above, it must be the early hour that has me as yet unable to master all my faculties.”

“No, please, do not apologize. I simply—that is—I do…admire your candor and conviction. Marrying for love is not rare, but it is not the standard. To be so assured of your path in life is enviable. I admit I haven’t given much thought to it myself.”

“You don’t think of who you’ll marry?” TK asked. He’d thought of nothing else since he was a boy.

At this, Mr. Reyes’ eyes turned down for a moment, a cloud of something passing over his features before the sun shone through his expression again. “Not in the sense you’ve described, no. I supposed I always knew I would marry, because I knew I would not inherit the estate—though I do envy Rosa a bit—but I’ve never imagined what kind of man I would spend my life with. I always assumed I’d know who he was when he came along.”

Their eyes met and for a moment not even the crickets or birds or any other constantly buzzing creature could be heard. TK was the first to break it, albeit in a slightly hushed tone.

“And he hasn’t come along yet?” he asked.

“I didn’t say that,” Mr. Reyes answered. He looked disinclined to elaborate. They gazed at each other a moment longer before Mr. Reyes broke the contact and gestured to their spread. “We should partake of Mrs. Smith’s generous meal. It seems she packed for much more than three this morning,” he laughed, and it only sounded a little forced. “I assure you, the fresh bacon cooked in rosemary will change your perspective on life the moment it hits your tongue.”

TK took the change in subject gracefully, also keen to step back from the precipice they’d found themselves on much too early in their acquaintance, truth be told. They’d forgotten themselves but no harm had been done, and they could go on as intended—as short-term business collaborators only.

_______

They rode the rest of the way around the western perimeter as the sun reached higher in the sky, Mr. Reyes pointing out landmarks here and there. Ostensibly this outing was for TK to survey the land for it’s viability for their project, and he was doing so, but he was also enamored with Mr. Reyes’ ability to guide them along with enthusiasm and grace. It was very clear the man loved his home and was deeply proud of it, and TK was entranced when he talked.

By the time they reached the apple orchard, TK had stopped deluding himself that he wasn’t fond of Mr. Reyes. He’d had his misgivings from the beginning, and for good reason, but there was a good man underneath the initial prickliness. Mr. Reyes could be likened to a cat protecting its young. Docile for the most part until his family was threatened, and TK could see where he’d felt that way initially. Mr. Reyes had come around quickly though and TK was not sure how much of that was due to his mother’s insistence and how much was just their conversation on this journey around the property in the early morning light.

“It smells so heavenly here,” TK mused aloud as the horses picked their way between the lines of trees. To be able to be abreast of each other to properly hold a conversation, the horses were so close that occasionally TK’s knee or thigh brushed against Mr. Reyes’. It startled him each time, even though he’d come to expect it. He supposed it startled his body but not his mind, which was a disconcerting feeling indeed, but not altogether unpleasant.

“They are called Gala apples. They thrive quite well here in the moderate rain. Would you like to try one?” Mr. Reyes asked. TK nodded with a small smile, and watched as Mr. Reyes dismounted Jimena and left her untethered. He turned back to TK and held out his hand. “Come along, it tastes better if you fetch it from the tree yourself,” he teased.

TK stared at the outstretched hand before taking it and dismounting gracefully, coming familiarly close to Mr. Reyes for the second time that day. This time, only their hands were touching as opposed to their whole bodies—as they had been on the stairs that morning—but it felt almost more intimate. TK noticed that they’d paused to regard one another again as they had multiple times on this journey. However, as they had done each time, they broke their gazes and their contact and went on as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. The only problem was that each time it happened—and this incident more than all he rest—set his heart aflutter in such a way as to distract from all else in the moment. It took him increasingly longer to come back to himself each time.

He watched as Mr. Reyes took a wooden-runged ladder from a pile on the ground and set it against the trunk of the nearest tree. Deftly, he climbed a few feet, reached up, and plucked a ripe bit of fruit from one of the lower branches before coming down off the ladder assuredly, his steps practiced as if he’d done this a thousand times before. Perhaps he had.

TK held his hand out for the fruit, but Mr. Reyes pulled it back and away. “Ah, ah. This one is mine. I told you, it tastes better if you fetch it yourself. I set your example, now it’s your turn,” he said, spitefully taking bite out of his prize, then using it to gesture to the ladder.

Unfettered by Mr. Reyes’ teasing, TK was determined to show that he could keep up with his companion’s prowess. He approached the ladder, assessing it for any weak points before tentatively stepping onto the first rung. It bowed gently under his weight, and he paused a moment to gather himself.

He felt a hand upon his hip and froze for a moment, feeling distinctly untethered. Looking down, TK saw Mr. Reyes’ earnest eyes on him, one hand steadying TK on the ladder and the other still casually consuming his fruit. He gave TK a reassuring smile and nodded in the direction of the tree, encouraging.

The climb to the correct height took TK a bit longer than it had the cowboy who was used to such endeavors, but he managed. He plucked a juicy-looking specimen from a close branch before carefully climbing down, deliberately placing each footfall for optimum support from the wooden rungs below him. It was slow and arduous, but he accomplished it.

Once landed on the ground, he held up his spoil triumphantly. Mr. Reyes smiled.

“And now, Mr. City Gentleman, you have farmed apples!” He declared.

TK bit his lip for a half-second before being unable to hold back his mirthful laughter. His eyes crinkled and his cheeks ached with it, and it felt so good that he didn’t notice his companion was gazing at him once more, admiration and awe in his expression. When his laughter came down to a more manageable level a few seconds later, they were caught in each other once again, as they had been many times that day. TK’s smile was still spread across his face and he looked up through his lashes at Mr. Reyes to see a serenity over his countenance that had yet to be shown since they’d known each other.

It was beautiful.

Just as quickly as the moment had began, it passed, with Mr. Reyes fingering his collar away from his neck in what seemed like a nervous gesture. “The heat is beginning to get oppressive,” he offered in explanation, though said heat was not yet unbearable in the slightest. “We should retreat to the safety of the house.”

“That sounds like a good idea. I wonder if our parents have concluded their negotiations for the day. I’d like to convene with my father to let him know what I’ve seen.”

“Of course, well. Shall we?” Mr. Reyes gestured down the path between the trees, Jimena’s reins held loosely in his hand as he led her on foot. TK grabbed Flor’s lead and followed in quiet contemplation. He realized his manners had slipped.

“Thank you, Mr. Reyes, for this tour. It was enlightening, as well as a pleasant diversion.”

“You are most welcome. And please, call me Carlos. After all, we are to be friends, as you put it.” His smile was radiant.

“Carlos,” TK tried out the name on his tongue with a nod. It tasted like the smoothest brandy, and TK felt like he was already drunk off of one sip.

“I wanted to reiterate my apology, to make sure it is clear. I judged you and your father before I allowed you to state your intentions. Your plans for the land, so far as you’ve told me, will not impact our operation negatively and I get the distinct feeling it is your mission to keep things that way as you work your way across the country. So I thank you for your discretion, and I once again humbly ask you to forgive my behavior yesterday.”

“It is already forgiven!” TK tells him, wanting to put any and all ill will behind them after such a glorious morning. “Do not worry over it any longer. Let us be friends from this day forth.”

Carlos smiled so wide it momentarily arrested TK’s heart.

They reached the house in due course to find Elena on the porch frantically waving a piece of paper in her delicate hands. They tethered the horses to the post off the side of the house and approached. The girl looked as if she could barely form words through her excitement.

“Carlos!” She cried as they ascended the steps and removed their hats. “Guess who’s coming to the ball tomorrow night!”

“I’m sure you will tell me without me having to guess,” her brother teased good-naturedly, sharing a conspiratorial smile with TK as they passed into the foyer.

“Mr. de Castillo,” Elena said, giving the name a weight that surely meant something, but which TK could not discern. He’d never heard the name before, but then again he did not know the upper class set of this region well enough to know their names and statuses that might warrant such excitement.

When TK turned to face Carlos, he wondered what Elena could find so appealing that her brother seemed to find mildly horrifying, judging by his expression. His eyes cut to TK and they almost looked…guilty.

Elena went on, oblivious to her brother’s distress. “His letter is posted from Santa Fe nearly two weeks ago, and he says he should arrive just in time to dress and attend. Isn’t that marvelous news, Carlos? He hasn’t come east since the fall. Oh how we’ve all missed him.” She put emphasis on certain parts of her sentence that didn’t entirely make sense to TK, but he could feel a growing lump in the pit of his stomach as he watched Carlos’ face drain of color slightly.

“He sounds like a character who’s good to know, if his presence at a dance excites you this much,” he offered to Elena to try and ease the focus off of Carlos, for he seemed unable to speak at that moment.

“Oh, it’s not me he excites,” Elena said, cutting her eyes to TK’s right, smirking but saying nothing more. TK did not turn to look at Carlos again, because that lump in his stomach was getting heavier the more Elena talked and he was not rightfully sure he could put a name to it just yet. Looking at Carlos’ guilty face was surely to spell it out quicker than he’d like. He halted his train of thought and plowed on.

“Well, I look forward to meeting this esteemed Mr. de Castillo. You said he’s not come east—do you mean to say he is from the west coast?”

“Yes, San Fransisco! His father rushed there in forty-nine and made quite the coup. They’re able to give the Rockefellers a run for their money, I’d wager,” she said. “And he’s so handsome as well.”

That bit tacked on at the end was again delivered with a weighted look at Carlos which TK again ignored.

He was saved from replying to Elena’s last comment by his father and the Doña appearing in the foyer.

“What’s got everyone in a fuss?” Owen asked.

“Mr. Fernando de Castillo is coming to the ball tomorrow night!” Elena exclaimed, elated to share her momentous news with anyone who would listen.

“De Castillo…” Owen pondered, “Is that Isador de Castillo’s boy? Of San Fransisco?”

“Yes, the very same. Mr. de Castillo the younger visits us quite often, as he’s got business back east with his company and likes to stop for a week or so on his way through. We’ve all grown quite fond of him, especially Car—“

“That’s quite enough, Elena. The Mr.’s Strand are not interested in country gossip. Run along and find Constance to start your lessons. Your sisters are already studying while you’ve been flitting about.” The Doña’s voice was firm and clearly dismissive. She glanced at her son and TK in turn, before turning her attention back to Owen. “Mr. Strand, might we all go into the drawing room for tea? Our sons can regale us of their journey around the property.”

Owen’s smile was wide and eager as he looked to the two young men. “Of course, I cannot wait to hear your thoughts on the land, TK. The Doña and I will also impart to you what we’ve agreed upon thus far, though there are still the finer details to work out.”

Carlos immediately followed Owen into the room off the left side of the foyer, barely sparing TK a glance in contrast to all their lingering looks throughout the morning. That, combined with Elena’s cryptic words regarding their future guest, unsettled TK more than he would have liked. Still, he was determined to soldier on in his mission to become good friends and business partners with Carlos and the rest of the Reyes’, and he’d not let a silly thing like a matter of the heart—which may not even exist—get in his way.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #911ls #tk strand #carlos reyes #brooke writes

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thefandomlesbian · 4 years

Note

Ship Questions!

Hotch/Reid

Domestic 🥰

(Also, I’m a huge fan of all your writings! Thanks for sharing 💜)

Thank you! ❤️

Sorry, this got pretty long!

1.) If they get married, who proposes?

Aaron does. Spencer is very comfortable not being married ever, and it's Aaron's drive to ensure Jack is in good hands in the event of his death that pushes him toward marriage. Spencer doesn't exactly want a wedding, but he knows Aaron is traditional and it's important to him, so he goes along with it.

2.) What's the wedding like? Who attends?

This could go one of two ways. 1.) They elope to Las Vegas so Diana can attend and invite literally no one else.

Or, more likely, 2.) They throw a BAU wedding in DC. JJ is the maid of honor and Derek is the best man. Rossi walks Spencer down the aisle and Gideon officiates. Rossi cries. Jack is the ring bearer and Henry is the flower girl.

A mostly unfamiliar face shows up, strolling up during the reception after the ceremony while Spencer is talking to Rossi and Derek. Spencer recognizes him first. "I don't want you here."

William is holding a brochure, pointing to where Rossi's name is listed as the father of the groom. "I would've come if you had called."

"I didn't want you to."

"You could've called," he insists. "You didn't have to write me off like this."

Derek goes to intercede, but Rossi catches him by the arm. "Hey, Reid," he says, looking quite mild. "There's one fatherly lesson I haven't taught you yet."

"What's that?" Spencer is confused at this assertion.

"How to throw a right hook."

William is on the floor, Aaron is covering Jack's eyes, Emily is cheering, JJ is trying to drag Spencer away, Gideon is getting Rossi some ice for his hands, and Strauss is pressing the bridge of her nose trying to decide if they can somehow make this a lawsuit for the bureau or if this is going to create more paperwork for her somehow.

Aaron invites a handful of old lawyer friends and Sean, who does reluctantly show up. Spencer invites his professors and teachers and Ethan. Several of them greet him with, "Oh, I haven't seen you in so long! You've gotten so tall!" which yields the question who was that person, and the answer is always, "A professor from my first doctorate."

3.) How many kids do they have?

In most timelines, only Jack. Spencer doesn't have any desire to spread his genes with his sketchy health history, and while Aaron wanted a bigger family with Haley, he knows it wouldn't be fair to do this to another child, the inconsistent hours, the lack of presence, and besides, Jessica wouldn't agree to free childcare for another kid. Spencer is okay with not being a father in the traditional way, and he's still someone who is very important to Jack, not to mention Henry and Hank and (insert baby name because I reject JJ naming her second child Michael).

But there is another timeline where they've discussed it. Spencer wants to be a father, and he tells Aaron that, and they aren't really sure how to proceed—with their line of work and histories, they aren't eligible for adoption. They look into surrogacy, but Spencer again doesn't really care to pass on his genetic material, and Aaron is having a very hard time shaking off his Catholic upbringing that makes him feel super duper icky and weird about something of his growing inside a woman he doesn't actually know that well and then that child being his and not part of her. They're at an impasse when, on a case, there's a break when a woman is found disemboweled in the dumpster while her newborn infant is wrapped in a plastic bag. There is no family after identification. Social services comes to take the baby, and they both feel like maybe this is some sign from the universe and they're missing out. Later that night when neither of them can sleep, Aaron rolls out of bed and calls the social services contact, and the baby is still floating around the office, not having yet found a foster family. So they take her.

It's several years of paperwork as they transition from foster parents to adopted guardians of Haley Diana Hotchner-Reid. Spencer steps down from the BAU to become a research professor full-time, and he finds cures for antibiotic-resistant bacterial illnesses. He invents a vaccine for tuberculosis. He has a routine schedule, so he's available for the kids all the time, and Aaron doesn't have to leave his job to have the family he wants.

4.) Do they have any pets?

Usually, no. Aaron is afraid of dogs. Animals don't like Spencer. Aaron grew up in rural Virginia, so he likes the idea of having horses like he did when he was young, but they don't have anywhere to put a horse or farm animals, and while Spencer fantasizes about having a farm, he thinks horses and cattle up close are terrifying. But occasionally they wind up with a cat, or even two cats if they're adventurous, and Spencer does a lot of research to start appropriate fish husbandry with a giant, well-kept aquarium where he teaches Jack all about how to properly care for fish (ie, goldfish and betas don't go in bowls, no fish go in bowls).

5.) Who's the stricter parent?

Neither of them are all that stern. Aaron doesn't know how to appropriately discipline a child. He knows what not to do, but he isn't sure about alternatives, and whenever Jack acts out of turn, he feels like it's his fault for letting Jack down and letting him experience so much trauma that twisted his ability to process his emotions in a healthy way. Aaron doesn't know how to provide structure and support in a positive way, and he tries, but it's hard.

Spencer also didn't exactly have any good parental role models. He does have the ability to learn everything there is to know about a child's interests through reading, and he does that to make connections. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't and Jack has still graffitied the side of the school building and Aaron is having to pay out damages and is trying very hard not to raise his voice and Spencer is like, "Is this what Ash Ketchum would do?" and Jack responds, "I'm thirteen, I haven't watched Pokemon in five years, grow up." Then they enlist a family counselor.

6.) Who kills the bugs?

Neither have bug fear. Spencer will squish roaches and pest bugs as he finds them. However, he thinks unique bugs are quite interesting, and he doesn't kill ants or spiders or crickets. Instead, he studies them. Spiders he always captures and takes outside. Once, Spencer has a piece of paper and a cup and is working very hard on entrapping a beautiful black widow, and Aaron sees it without realizing what he's doing and mushes it. "Why would you do that? Why would you kill an arachnid? She was protecting our home." After that, Aaron lets Spencer handle all the bugs and doesn't interfere since he never knows which ones deserve to live and which ones don't.

7.) How do they celebrate the holidays?

If someone is hosting a Christmas party, they'll attend, but otherwise, they'll stay inside and decorate the tree as a family. Sean is invited to Christmas dinner; he rarely comes. Jessica and her family go to her parents', and Aaron doesn't want to make Spencer uncomfortable by taking him there, so they avoid such gatherings. They make it special with just the three of them, unless another member or two of the BAU wants to squeeze in. Aaron likes to go to midnight mass, and he usually manages to convince Spencer to sit through it one night of the year.

On Halloween, they all go trick-or-treating together.

Easter is the other day of the year Aaron insists they go to church because, "I am nothing if not a Chreaster Catholic." Aaron takes Jack alone while Spencer stays home and sets up a wild egg hunt somewhere in the city, and when church ends, Aaron brings Jack to look for the eggs. Sometimes the rest of the BAU's kids join in.

For Memorial Day and Fourth of July, Aaron grills. Spencer tries once and they spend Memorial Day in the ER and Aaron has to buy a new grill. Likewise, they agree Spencer should not come within three feet of any firework materials, including benign sparklers and the like.

8.) Who's more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Aaron likes to get up early to brew Spencer's coffee the way he likes it, warm the house up, and start breakfast. Spencer never asks him to come back because he enjoys having the house warm and breakfast ready when he rolls out of bed. But if Aaron isn't feeling well and Spencer gets out of bed to do those things, it only takes a couple petulant grumbles on Aaron's part to convince Spencer to slide back under the covers.

9.) Who's the better cook?

Aaron is a much better cook. Spencer, to his credit, tries sometimes. But Aaron has a better understanding of how palates work and also how not to set things on fire. Spencer knows cooking is technically just a science, but it's a science that baffles him, he'll admit, like paranormal science or theology.

#hotchreid #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #criminal minds #headcanons

63 notes · View notes

brittledame · 4 years

Text

Pairing: Semi Eita/Reader

Warnings: Explicit, Mildly Dubious Consent, Face-Fucking, Scent Marking, Possessive Semi, Claiming, Mention of violence/gore, Alternate Universe, Fantasy AU, Wolf!Semi, Witch!Reader

Word Count: 9.1K

Summary: After Goshiki and Ushijima are thrown into an alternate universe after getting hit by a truck, they're thrown into a generation-old prophecy to defeat the Demon King that had been terrorizing the land. Joining the whirl-wind adventure, you face off the feared Wolf at a great disadvantage. Prepared to meet your fate in order to protect your team, you never anticipated him making a move on you and for it to end in you promising yourself to him.

Notes: Inspired by chapter 24 of Haikyuu-bu!! I started working on this in the middle of the 2nd installment to ‘Semi’s Blow Blow Up’ which I’m hoping to get out before the end of September. Also, I let Semi keep his ears and tail in this, please don’t send me to hell for that. Other than that, please enjoy!!

When Tsutomu and Ushijima ended up on top of a hill surrounded by acres of green rolling-hills, the younger honestly assumed the worst had happened. The bus had hit him and now he was dead in heaven. Of-course Ushijima would be there with him, he’s probably never made a misdeed in his life, meanwhile Tsutomu was slightly shocked he’d end up in heaven after spitefully cutting his older sister’s hair off when she teased his haircut when he was younger.

No, that can’t be right, he can't be in heaven. Everything felt too real. A breeze tousled his hair and he could smell the dirt under his scuffed runners. He couldn’t be dead, meaning that this place wasn’t heaven or purgatory, but someplace else. From the odd-looking trees sporting large purple leaves and expansive Elysian scenery, Tsutomu couldn’t shoot down the absurd idea that he was in an alternate dimension.

Patting himself down, he knew he was physically fine and felt his heart anxiously pounding away inside his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Ushijima standing tall, giving the area around them a surveying glance before his olive eyes landed on his shaky form.

“Goshiki, are you alright?” His deep timbre did calm his frayed nerves, it was hard not to trust his dependable senpai.

Nodding his head, Tsutomu responds with number one question of the day: “Ushijima-senpai, where are we?”

He tried to conceal the fear in his tone, but it would seem that he failed miserably as Ushijima places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“That truck must have hit us quite a fair way away.” Ushijima states, looking nowhere near as panicked as one should in their situation.

Goshiki gives him bewildered look, gesturing to the land in front of them.

“You think we would be fine after getting hit by a truck?” Tsutomu didn’t try to hide his hysteria. “No matter what way you paint it, this place doesn’t look like anywhere in Miyagi!”

“But there’s Shirabu.” Ushijima points somewhere over Tsutomu’s shoulder.

Half scared that he’s going to turn around and it’s some eldritch terror standing behind him, he froze in place. Although Tsutomu knew Ushijima would never put him in danger, Ushijima had no sense of danger; case and point the ghost incident. Gathering his scattered courage, he turns around and is dumbfounded to find Shirabu indeed standing before him, albeit he was now dressed in unusual garments.

“Shirabu?” Tsutomu exclaims, half relived that at least someone with a brain not solely filled with volleyball would see the insanity of their situation.

“Shirabu? No, I am not a Shirabu, I am Elf.” Not-Shirabu responds while pulling his hood off to expose comically long ears. Tsutomu could feel his mind take a temporary holiday, leaving him half-cocked and not nearly prepared enough to deal with this shit.

“We’re in an actual alternate universe…”

A short trek later, Tsutomu found himself being hosted by Not-Shirabu, who was scarily similar to Shirabu - right down to his mannerisms. Tsutomu could’ve sworn that every time he asked a question about this world, Not-Shirabu fought down a grimace, but never failed to give him a short response. He was polite but was obvious about his distaste towards Tsutomu’s inherently curious nature.

“Shirabu, everyone will worry if we do not return to school soon.” Ushijima succinctly summarises their situation.

“It’s Elf,” Not-Shirabu says immediately. “You want to return to your world?”

At their nods, Not-Shirabu slumps in his chair with a hefty sigh.

“I’m afraid there’s an issue with that. I would love to get you back home, but an evil Demon King has taken over this land. I’m afraid to say that going home is out of the question.”

Tsutomu felt his heart sink at the words. They couldn’t return home? What were they going to do here for a living? They could farm, but Tsutomu is nowhere near well-read in that field compared to Ushijima. Even in this dire situation, Tsutomu was reluctant to admit defeat.

“A Demon King?” He queried, obviously fishing for information about this Demon King. Maybe there was a way to convince him to let them home?

“Yes.” Elf drily responded.

Tsutomu could feel his eye twitch at the Shirabu-like response. Even in an alternate universe, his senpai was a short and antagonistic towards Tsutomu.

Only when he was prompted by Ushijima’s nod, did he continue.

“He is a malicious being with the sole incentive is to spread misfortune across the land. It started with small mischievous deeds, such as cutting individual’s hair into odd styles.” Elf pauses here to raise a hand to his fringe and Tsutomu had to smother the laugh that could threaten his life. “Now he has moved onto terrorising villages and increasing tax prices to an unbelievable high.”

“That is no way to run a country.” Ushijima hums in disapproval.

Tsutomu clasped his hands over his head, already feeling a headache coming on. So we’re going to completely ignore that Shirabu’s weird ass fringe was the result of some Demon King that has apparently ravaged the land by hiking up tax prices? And why did this all sound like something Tendou-senpai would do? He felt latent hysteria rise to the surface again.

“I’m sorry that he got you too, Goshiki.” Elf says solemnly.

Head snapping up, Tsutomu felt outraged at the comment. He worked really hard for his fringe to be this straight. Tsutomu would swear up until his deathbed that bowl cuts were cool.

“Hey! My fringe is untouched by the Demon King. This was my choice!” Goshiki defended his hairstyle, patting at the dark strands, making sure there wasn’t any odd fly-aways.

“We can’t go home as long as the demon king reigns?” Ushijima interjects, effectively ending the argument before it started. Ushijima was all too used to being the only one to stop arguments between Goshiki and Shirabu, he knew all the warning signs.

“Yes.” Elf says with an apologetic look. “I’m very sorry. If only the summoning of the ‘Otherworldly Hero’ passed on from past generations had succeeded. They are the sole hope we have.”

A silence envelopes the room, heavy and suffocating.

Tsutomu knew that panicking would do nothing but waste valuable energy, but he couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed at the insane situation they found themselves in. A niggling thought heaped more anxiety onto him when it raises a good point. What if they were able to go home, what happens if time passes differently here? A day here may be twelve years back home. What would he do if he went back home and all his friends were old, his parents dead and –

Elf startles Tsutomu out of his downward spiral by suddenly jerking back with a gasp, wide eyes focused on Ushijima’s left hand holding a spoon laden with soup. The sudden motion had caused a cup to fall and clatter loudly against the stone flooring, which went widely ignored as Elf raises a trembling finger pointed at the stoic brunette.

“You’re using the spoon with your left hand. Are you –!” He cuts himself off as he rushes over to Ushijima’s side, not quite believing his own eyes. “The Otherworldly Hero!”

Tsutomu could not point out a time he’s ever heard so much emotion poured into Shirabu’s tone, he was almost swept up into Elf’s zeal before his logic kicked back in.

It was that easy?! Tsutomu internally screamed. This was just getting ridiculous at this point, honestly.

After a singular trial of pulling a sword out of stone and Tsutomu embarrassing himself and losing Elf’s respect, they found themselves starting a quest. The fanboy within him was super excited that he was going on an actual quest, exactly like the ones in his RPG campaigns.

“Remind me why we need this witch again?” Tsutomu questions, much to Elf’s evident annoyance.

“We need her to get through the Mystical Woods. It's prowled by one of the Demon King’s acolytes.” Elf slides his eyes to give Tsutomu a warning look, not wanting to answer anymore questions.

Gulping at the intimidating look, Tsutomu waved away the twenty billion other questions that came to mind as they made their way towards a tall stone tower. Tsutomu wonders what the witch would look like. Would she be someone they know, or someone completely new?

At this point in the trip, he silently begging any listening deities that she’s friendly. Ushijima and Shirabu have never been the best talking companions in his world and this trip has highlighted to Tsutomu how much he’d taken Yamagata’s and Reon’s friendly conversations for granted.

The tower ahead of them slowly grew in size until Tsutomu estimated it stood at least 5 stories tall. Following in Elf’s shadow, they pause a few feet away from the base. Looking at the structure, Tsutomu was quick to notice that there was no door present. Maybe they were on the wrong side of the tower?

He was just about to voice this before Elf cups his mouth and proceeds to yell up at one of the open windows.

“Hey Witch, come down! I found the Otherworldly Hero!” He shouts, uncaring at the ruckus he was making.

Tsutomu winces at the volume, shocked at how loud Elf could get. Absent mindedly, he wonders if the Shirabu in his dimension could get that loud too. Looking back up at the window, the youngest saw a head peak out.

“What?!” A familiar voice yells back down. The head disappears out of sight before any of them could respond.

No even a moment later, a dark door appears on the once-blank wall before them. Opening, the door reveals a figure that Tsutomu never thought he’d see. He should've expected it, this situation was crazy enough as it was.

Walking out of the dark room, you come to stand out in the sunlight, confirming your identity. Tsutomu blushed when he noted your attire. You looked exactly how you did before their run, minus the dark blue dress that hugged your curves and loose hair. Not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to himself, he subtly glances to the side to catch Ushijima’s reaction to your appearance.

With his usual neutral expression, he exclaims your name with no more vigour than any other time he’s said it. Tsutomu put too much faith into Ushijima, he should have expected the lack of a reaction as well.

You give Ushijima an odd expression, looking at Elf to explain what was going on.

“Manager-chan?” Goshiki interrupted. Elf shot him a nasty look at the interruption and ended up sighing whilst rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“They've been calling me weird names all afternoon too. Just ignore the short Otherworlder.” Goshiki whines at his harsh words.

You pique an eyebrow at the bowl-cut boy. “So I look like someone you know from your world?”

“Yes,” Ushijima answered monotonously. “You look exactly like our team’s manager.”

You hum as you mull over his words. “Curious. So that would mean you're from a world that is directly parallel to ours, a completely different dimension with shared similarities.” Your tone picked in pace and excitement as you spoke, the end of your sentence becoming a smear to the males around you.

At their collective blank looks you made an odd hand gesture in the air. “Anyway… You found the Hero?” Giving Ushijima a curious look, you completely ignore Tsutomu’s existence.

It kind of hurt for one of his kindest senpai's to outright disregard his presence. Reminding himself of parallel universes, he had to actively tell himself that you weren’t technically you.

Wow, he really hated this alternative universe stuff.

“I’ve been told as such.” Ushijima supplies, not at all weirded out by you invading his personal space to prod at his biceps.

Turning on your heel, you make your way towards Elf and throw a casual arm around his shoulders. Not at all bothered by your antics, Elf stands there as you lean against him. Tsutomu knew in his world that you and Shirabu got along quite well, that must have translated into this universe as well.

“Why are you here instead of saving the lands now that you have the Hero at hand?” Your question is a legitimate one, one that Tsutomu would’ve asked if he wasn’t scared of Shirabu’s infamous back of the knee kicks. If Ushijima was supposedly strong enough to take on the Demon King, surely he'd be able to take on one simple lackey lurking in the woods they needed to cross.

“We’re here to recruit you. You’re the only one I know powerful enough to conceal us to get past the Demon King’s pet monsters.” He patiently explains.

“Aw and here I was thinking it was because you missed me. I missed you, y’know?” You teased. Truly, you did miss Elf and all the shenanigans the two of you would get into, but you would never pass up an opportunity to needle him.

Elf simply rolls his eyes at you and shrugs the arm off of his shoulder.

“I mean it. We need you to get through the Mystical Woods without being detected by Wolf.” You frown at Elf’s serious expression, the reality of the situation dawning upon you.

“You know I’m never going to turn down a quest with you, but his senses are ridiculously enhanced. It’ll take a lot out of me.” Running a hand through your hair, Tsutomu recognised it as your nervous tick. “I won’t be much help during the final battle.”

“Don’t worry about that. You can rely on me.” Ushijima simply states but the effect on you and Elf is immediate.

The Hero’s simple words eviscerated your reservations, the conviction in his tone was all you needed to hear. That paired with the large sacred sword still embedded in stone was all it took to convince you it wasn't a fool's mission.

Agreeing to join their party, you rush to grab your wand and some other resources to assist the party later on in the journey before setting off.

By the time you all stood before the ominous-looking trees of the Mystical Woods, the sun was starting to settle on the horizon, warning you that you had little to no time to make it through before night came along and the true battle began.

“Before we enter, I must tell you all that Wolf’s senses are second to none. He’ll hear a whisper, smell you an acre away, and could destroy you before you could blink.” Your warning only served to scare Goshiki. You rushed to complete your weak pep talk. “But, I’m here so it is very unlikely that he will catch us, much less even be in this neck of the woods.”

Your words did little to soothe the youngest, although he did put a brave face on. You had to stop yourself from cooing at how cute he looked with his chest puffed out and a serious expression adorning his young face.

“Hey, uh, what does this wolf look like? That way if we spot him we can seek some cover.” Goshiki suggests.

Impressed, you gave him an encouraging smile and ignored Elf snorting behind you.

“That’s a brilliant idea, good job Goshiki.” You praised, noticing the way his eyes lit up at it. “Wolf roams around in his human form as far as I’m aware of. He’s taller than Elf but shorter than Hero.”

Elf indignantly huffs at your comment, not all liking your unintentional poke at the sore topic.

“He has pale hair, it almost looks white sometimes. Oh, he also constantly has this really grumpy look on his face.” You continue to list off a series of characteristics that describes Semi to a tee. There was no doubt in Tsutomu’s and Ushijima’s mind about who Wolf was.

“That sounds like Semi.” Goshiki remarked once you finished.

Receiving blank looks from you and Elf, Tsutomu stumbled over his words as he tried to articulate his thoughts.

“Ah, well, the person you just described sounds exactly like my senpai back home called Semi.” Tsutomu let out a small chuckle as he’s hit with a funny nickname for his senpai.

“We’re going to avoid Semi-Wolf so that we can get to the castle, defeat the king and go home, right?” Tsutomu smoothly recovers.

You laugh at the odd nickname Goshiki coined.

“Semi-Wolf you say? I quite like that.” You raise your hand to cover your grin, very amused at how much the ever-serious Wolf would hate it.

Always forced to be the voice of reason, Elf clapped his hands to refocus everyone’s attention.

“We can’t lose focus now. Once we enter these trees we can’t afford to be found by Wolf, even with Witch and Hero on our side, it would be a tiresome battle if he spots us.” His grave tone quickly sobered up the party.

Taking a deep breath, you withdraw your wand, starting to draw out an intricate rune in the air. A familiar tingling sensation overtakes your body as magic begins to flow from the earth up into your fingers and into the wand.

Finishing the last line, a glowing circle with swirling line and sharp strokes stood before you. Fastening the members behind you with a heavy look, you offered them one last chance to back out.

“Are you all ready?”

All three nod back at you, already having steeled themselves whilst you prepared the rune. Turning back to the rune, you finished the casting and walked through it with the three males hot on your tracks. It evaporated as soon as you stepped through it, effectively masking your scents and dampening all sounds. Even Ushijima could sense the tangible weight of the magic casted over his body.

The woods were exactly as you remembered it from when you were a child and wasn’t claimed by the fearsome Wolf. The trees looked the same with rough and peeling bark, along with the ground looking as damp and spongy as the days you ran through it barefooted and free-spirited.

While you didn’t explicitly state that they couldn’t talk, you were secretly glad that they didn’t. It would’ve made your life much more difficult to funnel more energy into the rune to mask them, it was already bad enough that your couldn't completely conceal everyone. Your combined efforts of creeping between the threes on light feet was counteracted by Ushijima nicking every second tree with the sword's sharp blade, creating a trail of bark.

Eyes and ears stayed vigilant even as you noticed a landmark for the half-way point through the forest. You paused at the large outcropping of rocks resembling a sleeping lady and mouth at them that it you were half-way there. Elf and Goshiki looked relieved whilst Ushijima sported the same bland look.

You were tempted to suggest a short rest before continuing through the woods, where Semi-Wolf commonly prowled. The words died on your tongue as you noticed an abnormally thick fog rapidly approach your group. Not even a blink later and the fog had consumed all visibility below the waist.

You’ve spent your whole life surrounded by magic, you knew that this fog came from an unnatural origin. You had hoped that the fog would stay at that height but those were quickly dashed when you saw it slowly creep up your body. It wouldn’t be long before your entire vision was obscured.

This was not good, not good at all.

Whirling around, you went to grab at your team’s clothing to anchor them to you. As your hands cut throw empty air, your fear doubled. You doubted that they abandoned you, it was likely the doing of the magical woods. While you loved to experiment and witness all types of magic, always keen to expand your knowledge, the magic in these woods never failed to unnerve you even as a young child.

Not only was there a predator out here, the woods were also working against you.

Considering your options, you concluded that you were rapidly running out of choices.

Calling out their names was objectively a stupid choice, but it was the best thing you could do with breaking the fragile magic coating them. It was almost a form a self-sacrifice. If you drew enough attention to yourself, they would hopefully find their way to you - or at least something would.

A few tense moments go by, each call answered with dead silence. Not even the insects and birds dared to make a sound.

Casting a tracking spell was completely off the table. Not only was the fog thick enough that you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, it would shatter the meagre concealing magic coating them. At least it was something to protect them, it was much better then leaving them completely defenceless.

“Shit.” You hissed. Worriedly, you eye the magical fog that was becoming more oppressive, feeling like a physical weight pressing down on you.

“I didn’t know good witches like yourself cursed. So unladylike.” A deep rumbling voice sounded right next to your ear. It was close enough to for warm breath to caress your cold skin. Your skin immediately breaks into goose bumps.

Freezing, your mind descends into chaos as it crowds with worrying thoughts. The most prominent one pointed out the fact that Wolf was able to get dangerously close to you without your notice, magical fog aside. There was no doubt about who he was, there was no other that claimed the woods like he has.

You whirl around, trying to find the voice’s owner, full well knowing of whom you were seeking out. Fear coiled inside of your gut, trying it’s hardest to paralyse your muscles and haze your mind over in fear at the thought of facing Wolf alone at a disadvantage.

“You speak as if you’re a gentleman yourself, Semi-Wolf. You don’t have much room to condone my language when you have the mouth of a foul-tempered troll.” You rebuked, falsifying the confidence in your tone. Showing an ounce of trepidation in front of him would be deadly.

Eyes frantically flitting about, attempting to catch a glimpse of a shadow or anything that would reveal his whereabouts. Your eyes were met with nothing but swirling white, not a single sign as to where he could be. This whole situation had you on edge.

He chuckles at your weak jab. The sound reverberated off of the trees and felt like it came from all around you, only serving to further confuse you about his whereabouts.

While every drop of mana was precious, you thought it prudent to at least being able to see your enemy. It should at least put you on equal footing with him. Flicking your wand, you cast a spell to temporarily filter out the fog around you, creating a clear bubble around you and the menacing man before you.

Even though he looked just as you had described to your otherworldly companions, viewing Wolf not even two meters away from one’s self was always a different experience. The first feature that caught your attention was his dark eyes, iris colour similar to richly stained wood, secondly was his elongated nails coming to a fatal point. Claws sharp enough to shear through flesh with ease were paired with pointed canines exposed by his predatory smile.

Your heart speeds up as you recognised how doomed you were, armed only with your wand, half of your mana and a pouch of useless herbs. The fluffy white dark-tipped ears sitting atop his head flick at the thundering sound of your palpable fear. Wolf's smile widened at that, tail swishing side-to-side in glee. This was going to be all too easy for him.

“Found you Semi-Wolf” Your white-knuckled grip around your wand belied your light tone.

“Don’t call me that.” He growls out, eyes narrowing at you. He was not impressed at your impertinence.

You would normally roll your eyes at the needless display of anger, but you couldn’t afford to take your eyes off of his intimidating figure slowly walking around you.

“What are you doing in my territory,” he continues. You knew he didn't care about your answer, it was more so to draw this out.

Fine, you’d bite.

“We’re on a quest, so please kindly don’t interfere.” He pauses to the left of you, now not even an arms-length away from you. Your body instinctively tenses at this, acutely aware that he could take you out faster than you could cast at this distance.

“I can’t let my reputation suffer just because you asked politely to cross through. There’s consequences to encroaching my land without permission.” His tone darkens at the end of his sentence, acting as if you personally offended him by doing so.

You knew he wouldn’t let you go so easily but a girl could always dream, right?

Lowering your centre of gravity, you subtly shift your body into a fighting stance and forcibly relax your wrist. A stiff wrist would hinder casting and it would frankly be embarrassing to be taken down so quickly, regardless of Wolf being the second toughest opponent controlled by the Demon King.

His keen eyes catch onto your slight movements and he moves in kind. It appears that you’re confident enough to take him on directly off the bat and not even attempt to run away. Whether this choice was misguided or made by underestimating him, Wolf was going to make you rued the day you thought you stood a chance against him.

Not wanting to wait for him to make the first move, you immediately cast a paralysing spell. The spell missed widely as he simultaneously lunged towards you at that very moment. This back and forth of casting and dodging goes on for a while and it wasn't long before you could physically feel your mana decrease and muscles grow tired. Maybe locking yourself in a tower for months on end didn’t have the best effect on your stamina.

Knowing you didn’t have a chance in hell against him while half-powered thanks to the prior masking spell, you could do nothing but futilely dodge him and cast the occasional fire ball his way. In the back of your mind, you spared a thought to the rest of the party and prayed to the deities that they were making their way out of the woods.

An exposed root caught your foot as you danced out of reach from a swipe of his deadly claws. Time seemed to slow down as your world tilted and the ground rose up to catch your body. Catching yourself on unsteady hands, you hiss as the rough ground scrapes your palms and knees enough to bleed.

Seizing the win, Wolf walks over to your stationary form, savouring the smell of your blood on the air. It smelt sweet, Wolf licked his lips and nudged you onto your back with his foot. He briefly wondered if you would taste just as sweet. You had put up a good fight and Wolf always loved a good challenge.

Semi-Wolf cages your body with his own, his large hands trapping yours above your head, with his legs pinning yours down. At this point, you had resigned yourself to your fate. You never really thought that you’d die like this, a hot guy murdering you was always a bonus you supposed.

Bringing his face towards yours, your breath falters when his lips floats above yours. Eyes wide, you noticed the hunger in his dark eyes, a hunger that you knew yourself all too intimately. Seeing his lips tilt into a dangerous smirk, your eyes lock onto them much to Wolf’s evident amusement. He uses the opportunity of your diverted attention to closely check you out, his eyes sweeping down your form.

He vastly appreciates the simple dark gown you wore. The dress exposed enough cleavage without becoming a disaster and had a leg slit that exposed a fair amount of soft-looking skin. Wetting his lips at the delicious sight you made underneath him, Wolf knows his evaluating looks were far from one sided, he could feel your gaze burn into his skin in kind.

Making eye contact with you, he decided he was going to indulge himself just this once. After weeks of dealing with Demon King’s shenanigans and then having to come back and patrol the woods with nothing in terms of companionship, he was admittedly lonely. He also harboured a lot of frustration and pent-up sexual desires and then there you were, waltzing on in with a form-fitting dress and smelling of ripened strawberries.

Wolf leans down and brings his mouth to your neck. All that filled your mind was the different but all equally as gruesome ideas of how he could kill you in this position. Him tearing out your throat was at the forefront of your mind.

Wolf licks a hot stripe up your throat, tasting your rabbit-like heartbeat. It was almost cute how much he scared you. He was almost tempted to assure you he can be gentle if he’s in the mood for it. From how you reacted to his each and every touch, he knew his self-restraint would truly be tested tonight. He did so love a sensitive lover.

“What are you going to do to me?” Your voice shakes and serves to further spur him on. Temptingly, he brushes his lips against yours, as light as a feather and no where near the pressure you now craved.

This close up you could see the flecks of near obsidian accentuating his mahogany brown irises that swirled with unspoken promises of what he was planning to do to you tonight. He doesn’t answer, choosing to stare instead.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Pushing him probably wasn’t the smartest decision. Then again, you never would have gotten into adventuring if you had all your wits about you.

Again, silence meets your ears as he rolls his eyes at you in response, much to your shock. The action was unexpected, completely out of character for him, judging from the gossip you’ve overheard from the townspeople.

“I’ve got a much better use for that cute little mouth of yours then asking pointless questions.” He purrs into your ear.

You very nearly swallowed your tongue, eyes wide in disbelief. Your mind was still spinning at the sudden turn the night has taken. You were ready to fight for your life, not get pinned down and get propositioned. His actions spoke leagues, he didn’t leave any room for misinterpretation of what he desired from you. As much as that thought should’ve scared you, a thrill of anticipation sparked down your spine.

Noticing your receptiveness, Wolf planned to test how far he could push you before you pulled back. Testing the waters, he bridges the short gap between your mouths and kisses you. To his amusement, you froze for half a breath before reciprocating, soft lips moving skillfully against his.

Deepening the kiss, he doesn’t wait for permission to lick into your mouth, earning him a gasp. You never really spared any thought to him before this day other than reluctant acknowledgement of his strength, that even armed with an arsenal of spells you’d still struggle to defeat him. Never in a hundred years would you think that he was a good kisser and yet here he was doing his best to thoroughly prove you wrong.

Warmth spread through your body as you tried to pay him in kind, but he was intent on dominating the kiss in every way. Your mind wondered over the thought of him dominating you in another way and your heart gave a concerning lurch inside our chest.

Semi-Wolf ends up breaking the kiss to chuckle down at you after a moan escaped. Embarrassed flush tinging your cheeks pink, you use the break to catch the breath he stole from your lungs.

“That doesn’t answer my question, Semi-Wolf.” You whisper against his lips.

“How much more direct do I have to be with you, little witch? Do you want me to say that I want to fuck that cheeky mouth of yours until you cry?” Heart palpitating, your eyes zero in on him wetting his lips, wondering what else his tongue could do. “Or maybe that I’m horny enough to fuck you regardless of your incessant questioning.”

This time you shiver at the way his deep voice seemed elicit lust to cloud your mind. Horny yourself from countless days of self-imposed isolation in your pursuit of knowledge after your last disastrous quest with Elf, you weren’t exactly in the right mind-frame to deny him.

At the same time though, who said you would make it easy for him?

“Even the big bad Wolf gets lonely guarding the creepy woods.” You goad him, eager to get a rise from him.

Rising to the obvious bait, his grip tighten around your wrists enough to hurt. Meeting his scowl with a jovial expression, you inwardly crowed at how easy it was to rile him up.

“You’d be so much cuter if you didn’t open your mouth. Don’t worry, I’ll fix that for you.” He promises darkly. His thumb presses into your bottom lip and urges you to open your mouth.

You do deny yourself the desire to bite down on his thumb, not wanting to truly make him mad. You just wanted him mad enough to take you without holding back.

Releasing your other wrist, he makes quick work of undoing his pants. Enjoying the view, your tongue licked his thumb, drawing his attention for all of a second before he presses his thumb on top of your tongue. You whine around the intrusion, earning an unimpressed look from him as he reveals his sizable length.

He nearly laughs when he hear you audibly gulp as he shucks down his pants one-handed. His slowly filling dick swelled even more at your groan from just witnessing his length. Even at half-mast he was long and girthy enough for you to wonder if he was going to fit in you.

Not liking the way your attention drifted inwards, Wolf gripped himself and gave a few tugs. To both your fascination and horror, you watched as his cock was stroked into full hardness. At this, you swore to yourself to make it fit, no matter what. There was no way you were going to pass up this once in a life-time opportunity.

Wolf considers the position you were both in and decided that it wouldn’t do. Releasing his cock and removing his thumb from your mouth, he grabs you by the shoulders and forcibly moves you into a new position. You relished the way he manhandled you, you elect to make it easy on him and be pliable for him.

Pushing a hand through his wild hair, he looks over at your new placement. Dress strewn around your legs, the side slit now exposing an indecent amount of flesh as you laid out beside him. Once again grasping your shoulder, he moves your upper body to lean over his spread legs, bringing your face towards his rigid length.

You didn’t fight him as he brought your mouth towards his cock, nor did you wait for permission to start. Wrapping your mouth around the leaking tip, you gave a slight suck before trying to take more of him in all while swirling your tongue around him. His hand moves up into your hair as you slowly make your way down his shaft, cute little mouth already stretched wide.

About half-way down your jaw was starting to get sore from how wide you had to keep your mouth from grazing your teeth harshly against him. You weren’t ready to admit defeat yet, you still hadn’t even taken him fully yet. Throwing caution to the wind, you decide to take the rest of his cock in all the way, sore throat be damned. You gagged at the feeling of him being shoved down your throat, mouth impossibly full as his hips jolt up and keep himself in as you started to pull back.

A loud groan rumbles through the air, rewarding your efforts. His fingers tighten in your hair, locking your head in place. You fight against his grip and win, coming up with a gasp and a thick strand of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. Giving him a withering glare, you lick up his shaft once, twice, before engulfing him yet again. This was for your benefit, hearing him growl as you sucked him off was just a benefit.

He watched on with delight as you forced yourself to choke on his cock, evidently he was too large for you to handle. Not wanting you to do all the work, he started to slowly roll his hips up and took control of your pace by moving you up and down his member by his grip on your hair.

Unable to take back control, you could do nothing but to let him guide you as he fucks into your mouth. This turned you on incredibly, feeling yourself become wet as he pants and groans into the still air. Distantly, you could hear his tail thump against the ground.

While fucking your willing mouth, he’s struck with a brilliant idea. Wrapping a hand around your throat, he’s now able to feel himself being deepthroated. A rush of blood left him light-headed, absolutely loving the fact that he can feel himself when he shoves his cock even further down your throat, not caring that at how you dug your nails into his hips. Your whines about him taking over only served to arouse him further, feeling the vibrations travel along his length.

He feels himself come close as you swallow around him, tongue rubbing sinuously against all the right spots. He knew it wouldn’t be long before he peaked. While he did have a fast recovery time, he didn’t want to waste a moment of not being buried inside of you. Already the smell your arousal perfumed the air, causing his dick to jump in your mouth at the sudden influx of blood rushing southward. The need to be inside of you trumped the joy he felt from you sucking him off.

Tearing you off of his dick with a slick'pop', you were completely blindsided as he throws you against the ground. His hand grasped your thigh, drawing it up as his other shears the thin fabric of your dress off. Now sitting above mid-thigh, you silently despaired about the destruction of your favourite dress. Uncaring, Wolf impatiently batted the rest of the flowy fabric out of his way, not sparing you a second look at you as he shreds your panties and runs a knuckle down your wet folds.

“I’ve barely touched you and yet you’re this wet,” he muses.

Careful of his nails, he gathers up your liquid arousal on his finger and brings it up to his mouth, tasting you. You clench down on nothing as he closes his eyes to savour your taste with a moan. If he drew this out any longer, you were going to have a spontaneous heart attack.

Squirming under him, you made impatient sound. It didn’t go ignored, grinning down at you, he brings bringing his finger back down to teasingly caress your folds, touches much too light for your taste.

“Aren’t you an impatient little thing,” Semi-Wolf drawled as brushes a knuckle against your hole, pausing over it and slightly dipping in.

A frustrate groan left your lips, tilting your hips up to chase his teasing strokes.

“Please.” You begged as he started again with the feather-light strokes.

Normally you would rather retch than beg for cock, However there was always an exception. That exception being Semi-Wolf's cock. It appeared to be the correct thing to do as his eyes flashed with something sinful, a wild look on his face.

“Since you asked so nicely…” He moves down your body, coming to a stop at the apex of your thighs.

Face so close to your core, his mouth started salivating from how good you smelt. Blowing onto your pussy, he elicits a cute squeal and ended up having to pin your legs down to keep you from kneeing him in the head.

He delivers a long lick between your wet folds and swallows your taste as he prods at your entrance. Judging he had enough fun, he delved straight in. Clawing at the soft ground under you, your chest heaved as his tongue thrus in, swirled around, rubbed against your walls and pulled out. It wasn't long before he had you incoherently begging for something, anything, yet he continued in this fashion until he had your hands tugging at his hair, careful of his furry ears, and writhing on his tongue.

Eating you out like a man starved, he didn’t stop until he felt your thighs tense around his head, signalling how close he brought you with just his tongue. He’d like to think that he wasn’t a cruel man but the nasty look you gave when he pulled away had him second guessing himself.

You were more than ready at this point. Ready to start cursing at him if he didn’t fuck you right now, you opened you mouth for him beat you to the chase. Heaving himself upwards, he presses his chest against yours, inadvertently bringing his hips close enough for his dick to slap against your drenched folds.

Gripping himself, he wordlessly slicks up his length by rubbing it through your juices. Lining up with you entrance, he barely presses in and your hands fly up to dig into his arms. Not minding the bite of pain, Wolf didn’t stop you from digging in your nails as he slowly slid in.

Reminding yourself to breath, you took shallow breaths and forcibly relaxed your muscles to help take him in, ignoring the sharp sting of pain that paired with his girth.

Shoving his engorged cock into your wet hole, he didn’t hesitate to slide down to the root regardless of how tight you were. Tears rise to your eyes unbidden as he pushes his way into you, feeling like his cock alone could split you in half. Muttering a half-assed incantation under your breath, you banished the edge of pain away, unmasking the pleasure at being so completely filled.

His thick cock that filled every space inside of you so well, that you started to believe he was made for you. The same thought went through his mind as he begins to mindlessly pound away into you, loving the way your wet hole takes him so well and tightens perfectly around him every time.

The angle he pummelled into at had you seeing stars. You raise your hips to meet his a few times before he grabs the back of your right knee with one hand, pinning your leg up against your chest. A wrecked moan rattles you as the pose opens you up more, changing the angle and allowing him to hit even deeper inside of you, now experiencing fireworks.

“You like that, huh?” He growls roughly.

You couldn’t spare the breath to answer him back with him fucking the life out of you, instead you nodded helplessly.

A pleased noise rumbled through his chest. You were such a supple little thing, taking every inch of him like you needed it, no matter the pain it initially caused you. Such things stroked his ego, paired with the wrecked expression on your face and the fluttering of your walls around his cock, he was intrigued by you. Being impressed and interested in someone with his possessive nature was never a good combination, and he couldn’t stop himself from becoming enamoured with you while fucking you into the ground.

He litters your neck and chest with kisses, bruises, and bites that you knew would take a while to heal and vanish. The bastard was infamously territorial, you should’ve known that it would also translate into sex as well. Having half the mind to slap him for marking up, you couldn’t deny the way your heart leaped and pussy clenched around him with every rough suck he delivered to your soft skin.

He couldn’t let you go now he’s had a taste of you. He knew you would be perfect in tempering him, weathering his moods and give yourself fully to him like were right now. You already proved yourself worthy by not backing down or running away. Pupils blown wide, possessive thoughts consume his mind, devising different ways he could make you his. From the way you thrashed under him, shaky moans joining the symphony of your bodies colliding together, he conjured a way he could make you his.

Feeling him pull out was nothing of concern to your bliss-filled mind. It was when he didn’t slide back in that raised alarm. Opening your eyes, you blinked away tears from your sight to make out his proud-looking expression. Whining, you raise your hips up to force his tip to slide in further. Semi-Wolf denies you this by pulling his hips back further, removing his cock all together.

“Do you want me to continue fucking your greedy hole?” He says, eyes piercing through your soul.

Showing your frustration, you glare up at him and dig your nails into his arm, making him wince at the strong grip.

“Yes.” You hissed through clenched teeth.

He considers your answer for a short moment before moving his dick again. This time though, he merely sits it between your slick folds and rolls his hips. The position was perfect for his cock to graze against your clit, a moan slipped out before you could suppress it.

“What would you do for it?” He questions, rolling his hips again, putting more force behind it this time.

Eyes rolling into the back of your head, the constant stream of stimuli from him rubbing against your sensitive bundle was overwhelming. Seeing that you weren’t listening to him, he stopped his motions and watched as frustrated tears gather in your eyes as he ripped away your building orgasm.

“I said, what will you do for it?” He leans down to your ear, teeth gently tugging at your earlobe.

Existence now solely staked on you reaching your peak, the words rushed out of you without a second thought.

“Anything.”

He smiles at that, a shudder going through your body at the beautiful sight. He flashes his canines at you, happy that you wouldn’t need any convincing.

“I was hoping you would say that.” He presses your mouths together in a relatively chaste kiss. Confused, you kissed him back with vigour and chased his lips when he drew back. “How about becoming mine?”

A flash of heat sears through your body at his question. Mind going in a hundred different directions, it gets thrown around into different scenarios. First you were making out, fucking and now he was asking you to be his? You literally just met the guy. While yes sex with him so far has been immaculate, you couldn’t just swear yourself to him at the drop of hat.

All these thoughts should’ve been enough to deter you, to encourage you to finish yourself off and walk away. Instead, the horny part of you overrode all common sense. A strong, attractive partner by your side with a drool-worthy dick? You didn't need anything more.

Hands cupping his cheeks, you graze your thumb over his bottom lip and pull him closer.

“Yes. Now fuck me before I finish myself off.” His eyes flash at your threat, promising you hell for that.

Sealing your fate, you fasten your mouth over his and slip your tongue into his mouth as he grabs himself and lines up with your entrance and thrusts back in like he never stopped.

Pace faster than before, you arched you back as his cock presses into you, feeling impossibly deep. Unforgiving now in his thrusts, he didn’t hesitate to make himself a place inside of you, needing you to feel him even when he was finished.

It felt like your veins were filled with molten magma as he repeatedly hit all your sweet spots without even trying. All of your arousal and pleasure amassed into a tightly coiled ball that sat low in your gut and grew with every growl and thrust he gave. This time you protected it with all your might, you’d most definitely curse him if he pulled the same stunt twice.

Wolf buried his head into the crook of your neck, panting into your skin as he pistons himself in and out of you, chasing his own orgasm to no end in sight. Scraping his canines along the column of your throat, you shudder around his cock and tantalisingly squeeze him. Rewarding how sensitive you were, he attaches his mouth to you and buries his fangs into your flesh.

It felt like a supernova went off of inside of you the very moment his teeth pierced your flesh, flinging your head back fast enough that you almost knock yourself out as Wolf fucks you through the most intense orgasm of your life.

His hips don’t falter their pistoning as you tighten up immensely, feeling like a second skin from the way you gripped at him. Blood filling his mouth, he greedily swallowed every drop of the sweet substance, not at all surprised that it tasted just as sweet as the strawberries you smelt like.

With one last thrust, he pulls out and gives himself three rough tugs before he finally spilled all over your thighs. He very nearly purrs at how he solidified his claim over you, his scent seeping into your skin strong enough for any non-human person with a decent nose would know exactly who you belonged to.

“Will you grant us passage through your woods now?” You asked, sarcastic words shattering the silent atmosphere that enveloped your bodies as you both recovered.

“Maybe. Depends what you’re scheming.” He glances over at you from the corner of his eye, not bothering to turn over.

“We’re going to take down the Demon King.” Semi-Wolf chokes on mid-air and whirls around to face you, propping himself up on his elbow.

“Are you serious? If you had started with that, I would’ve walked you guys through and joined the fight.” You bite your tongue to stop yourself from laughing. This whole time Semi-Wolf wasn’t the dangerous servant of evil you had him pegged for, instead he was begrudgingly guarding these woods. He must being doing it for something, albeit you didn't know what for.

“What did he do to warrant your anger at him.” You were blatantly curious. It wasn’t often that you were wrong in how you perceived someone, plus it was interesting to catch a glimpse into the life of someone who was close to the maleficent Demon King.

“He said my wardrobe was hideous.” Wolf grumbles under his breath.

“I’m sorry, what? I couldn’t hear you.” You grin at him while cupping your ear and leaning in close. You had heard him perfectly fine, it was just fun to see this side of him.

Teasing him was much too fun, you were already getting comfortable around him. Who could’ve guessed he would be all soft on the inside? Elf was going to get a kick out hearing that. Whether he’ll believe you or not is entirely another story.

Annoyed, Wolf bats you away as you laughed at the pick blush betraying his stern look.

“Doesn’t matter. There’s no way you could lose with me helping.” A different, more gentle sort of warmth fills you at his claim, no matter how self-assured it may come across to some.

No longer wishing to antagonise him further, you simply hum in response. Not giving it a second thought, you slip your hand into his.

“Ignoring the fact that you destroyed my favourite dress,” Wolf had the common decency to look ashamed, withering under your harsh glare. “Were you serious when you asked –”

“Yes, I was serious.” He cuts you off. A nervous look replaces his serious one, scratching at the back of his head as he contemplated his next words. “Look, it wasn’t a smart move to do that to you in the middle of… yeah. I don’t know what came over me, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of you being someone else's. It's weird how connected I felt with you in that moment."

Looking away from the tree he was studying to avoid your gaze he was met with your stunned face painted a soft pink.

“You’re an idiot.” You say bluntly. Okay, he was definitely not the big monster you were led to believe. You almost felt like a fool for being so scared of him at the start.

“Hey!” He indignantly shouts, squeezing your hand as punishment for your insult.

“I’m joking, I swear it. It was a dick move but I forgive you.” Suddenly feeling shy, you look away from his intense eyes, not liking the way it felt like he could read your very soul. If Elf were here he’d probably scoff at you being demure after -

“Crap, my party! They probably think I’m dead.” You hurriedly get up and brush off the debris from your now short dress. A slight breeze picked up, causing you to shiver at the weird sensation of it caressing your bare legs and reminding you of the cum drying uncomfortably on your skin.

Ripping a piece of your sleeve off, you make quick work of cleaning yourself off as Wolf tugs on his pants. Seeing the way he eyes your legs, you narrow your eyes at him, shaking your head when he feigns an innocent look.

Giving the small glade one last look over, you both set off into the now clear woods. It took what seemed like a short eternity before you broke the tree line of the other side. On the other side, you find a pacing Goshiki, a bored-looking Elf and a peacefully dozing Ushijima.

Looking over at your sudden appearance, it took one sweep of Elf’s perceptive eyes to know what exactly had went down during your disappearance. You blush as he raises an unimpressed brow at you, ignoring Semi-Wolf’s presence by your side out of pure spite.

It took a bit to convince them that he was here to help and help he did. Armed with the scarily one-minded Hero and one pissed of Semi-Wolf, the crimson-haired Demon King didn’t stand a chance against them.

#semi x reader #semi eita x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #semi eita #shiratorizawa #haikyuu-bu!!#alternate universe - fantasy #alternate universe #he has ears and a tail and I was considering I may be furry for writing this rip #haikyuu!! fic #haikyuu!!#reader-insert #I'm probably going to fanfic author hell for writing this

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