#Women's Hiking Boots

[adventuregeartech]

Essential Accessories for Mountain Biking: Gear Up for Your Ride

Are you an adventure outdoor enthusiast looking to elevate your mountain biking experience? Whether you’re a seasoned rider or just getting started, having the right mountain bike accessories can make all the difference. From safety gear to gadgets that enhance performance, these accessories are essential to enjoy your ride while staying prepared for any situation fully. 

This guide will explore the must-have mountain bike accessories every rider should consider. Whether planning a leisurely trail ride or tackling rugged terrain, these items will ensure you’re equipped for whatever lies ahead. Let’s dive into the essentials that will boost your confidence on the trails and enhance your overall biking experience.

Helmets: Your First Line of Defense

Regarding mountain biking, safety should always be a top priority. The most critical gear you can invest in is a high-quality helmet. But not just any helmet will do; you need one specifically designed for mountain biking.

Why a Mountain Bike Helmet?

Mountain bike helmets differ from road bike helmets in a few key ways. They offer more coverage, particularly at the back of the head, which is crucial when navigating rough trails. These helmets also have better ventilation and are often equipped with visors to protect your eyes from the sun, rain, or mud.

Wearing a helmet is non-negotiable. It’s not just about following the rules but protecting your head from serious injuries. Look for helmets with MIPS (Multi-directional Impact Protection System) technology, which provides extra protection against rotational forces during a fall, giving you a sense of security on the trails.

Top Helmet Brands for Mountain Bikers

Bell: Known for its rugged construction and advanced safety features, Bell helmets are a favorite among mountain bikers. 

Giro: Combining style with functionality, Giro offers helmets that are lightweight yet sturdy, perfect for long rides.

POC: POC helmets are renowned for their innovative designs and safety features, making them a top choice for serious riders.

Protective Gear: Armor Up for the Adventure

In addition to a helmet, several other pieces of protective gear can help prevent injuries while mountain biking. Each piece of gear serves a specific purpose, ensuring you’re covered from head to toe.

Body Armor and Pads

Mountain biking can be unpredictable, and falls are inevitable, especially when pushing your limits on challenging trails. This is where body armor comes in. Elbow pads, knee pads, and chest protectors can significantly reduce the impact of a fall and help you avoid scrapes, bruises, or more severe injuries.

Knee and Elbow Pads: These pads should be lightweight, breathable, and comfortable so they don’t hinder your movement. Brands like Fox Racing and G-Form offer excellent options.

Chest Protectors: For those tackling particularly rough trails, a chest protector can shield you from hard impacts, especially in areas with lots of rocks or roots.

Gloves and Eyewear

Remember to consider the importance of gloves and eyewear. Mountain bike accessories like these enhance your comfort, grip, and visibility.

Gloves: Look for gloves with padded palms to absorb shock and reduce hand fatigue. Full-finger gloves are preferred for better protection.

Eyewear: Goggles or sunglasses with interchangeable lenses are ideal. They protect your eyes from dust, debris, and harmful UV rays while allowing you to adapt to varying light conditions.

Hydration Systems: Stay Fueled and Hydrated

Long rides on challenging trails can quickly deplete your energy reserves. Staying hydrated is crucial; carrying enough water is essential for maintaining performance and avoiding dehydration.

Hydration Packs vs. Water Bottles

Regarding hydration, you have two main options: hydration packs or water bottles. Both have pros and cons, and the choice often depends on the length and intensity of your ride.

Hydration Packs: These are backpacks equipped with a bladder that holds a significant amount of water (usually 2-3 liters). They’re perfect for long rides, allowing you to drink hands-free via a tube. Brands like CamelBak and Osprey are well-known for their durable and comfortable hydration packs.

Water Bottles: For shorter rides, a water bottle may be sufficient. Look for bottles with easy-to-use lids that can be operated with one hand while riding. Insulated bottles can also keep your water cool during hot rides.

Nutrition on the Go

In addition to staying hydrated, it’s important to keep your energy levels up. Energy bars, gels, and trail mix are easy to carry and can provide a quick boost during your ride. Consider stashing a few snacks in your hydration pack or bike-mounted bag.

Tools and Repair Kits: Be Your Mechanic

When you’re out on the trails, the last thing you want is to be stranded due to a mechanical issue. Carrying the right tools and repair kits can save you from a long walk back to your car or, worse, being stuck in the middle of nowhere.

Essential Tools to Carry

Every mountain biker should have a basic tool kit with key items. These tools can help you make quick adjustments or repairs, ensuring you can continue your ride. 

Multi-Tool: A good multi-tool should include a variety of Allen wrenches, a chain breaker, screwdrivers, and other essential tools. Brands like Crankbrothers offer compact and durable options that are easy to carry. 

Tire Repair Kit: Flat tires are one of the most common issues on the trail. Carry a patch kit, tire levers, and a mini pump or CO2 inflator to fix flats quickly.

Spare Parts and Extras

In addition to tools, it’s wise to carry a few spare parts. A spare tube, extra chain links, and even a derailleur hanger can be lifesavers when you’re miles away from the nearest bike shop, giving you reassurance and confidence in your preparedness.

Tubes: Always carry at least one spare tube that fits your tire size. Even if you have tubeless tires, a spare tube can be a quick fix if you can’t repair a puncture.

Derailleur Hanger: These small, inexpensive parts are prone to bending or breaking but are crucial for your bike’s shifting performance. A spare derailleur hanger is easy to carry and can save your ride.

Lights and Visibility: Brighten Up Your Ride

Whether you’re riding at dawn, dusk, or during the night, having proper lighting is essential for your safety. Lights not only help you see but also ensure that you’re visible to others on the trail.

Front and Rear Lights

Your bike should be equipped with both front and rear lights. The front light illuminates the trail ahead, while the rear light ensures that other riders or vehicles can see you from behind. 

Front Lights: Look for powerful LED lights with multiple brightness settings. Rechargeable lights are more convenient and eco-friendly. Brands like Lezyne and NiteRider offer excellent options with long battery life and high lumens. 

Rear Lights: Rear lights are typically smaller and less powerful than front lights, but they are just as important. Flashing modes can help increase your visibility, especially in low-light conditions.

Reflective Gear

In addition to lights, consider wearing reflective gear or adding reflective tape to your bike. Reflective clothing, stickers, and ankle bands can make a huge difference in your visibility to others.

GPS and Navigation: Never Lose Your Way

A reliable GPS or navigation system can prevent you from getting lost when exploring new trails or venturing into remote areas. Modern GPS devices offer more than just directions; they provide valuable data on your ride, such as distance, speed, and elevation.

GPS Devices for Mountain Bikers

There are several GPS devices designed specifically for mountain biking. These devices are rugged and waterproof, often with preloaded trail maps. 

Garmin Edge Series: Garmin is a leader in GPS technology, and its Edge series is popular among mountain bikers. These devices offer detailed maps, turn-by-turn navigation, and the ability to track your performance metrics. 

Wahoo ELEMNT: Another great option, the Wahoo ELEMNT series offers easy-to-read displays, customizable data screens, and seamless integration with other cycling apps.

Smartphone Apps

If you prefer to use your smartphone for navigation, several apps are designed for mountain biking. Apps like Trailforks and Komoot offer detailed trail maps, user reviews, and offline navigation, making them excellent tools for planning and tracking your rides.

Conclusion

Mountain biking is an exhilarating sport that combines the thrill of adventure with the beauty of the great outdoors. By equipping yourself with the right mountain bike accessories, you can enhance your riding experience and stay prepared for anything that comes your way. From helmets and protective gear to hydration systems and GPS devices, these essentials are designed to keep you safe, comfortable, and confident on the trails.

So, whether you’re an adventure outdoor enthusiast or a beginner just starting, remember to gear up with the best accessories. With the right equipment, you can focus on enjoying the ride and exploring new trails. Happy riding! For more mountain bike accessories and gear recommendations, visit Adventure Gear Tech.

[shswank]

Joe Boxer Hiking Boots l Size 7

Joe Boxer Hiking Boots: These cool hiking boots feature a wool gray fabric, lace up front, contrasting quilted faux leather trim on the shaft.

Size: 7

Color: Gray, black.

Material: Wool, PU, manmade material.

Condition: Pre-owned, there is some minor scuffs/wear on the heels and toes. Otherwise in excellent condition!

SKU 18rh

[sweetdreamspootypie]

The piercers keep reminding and recommending that I don't sleep on my side for at least another 3 months

But (to use the Tumblr phrase) I sleep like a rotisserie chicken

They suggest using like an airplane travel pillow thing but I still can't really see how that will help

We've managed to save the helix pericing but the lobe one healed over in like. Less than 12 hours. So I have to wait a couple weeks to heal fully and then repierce and start from scratch on that one.

[obnovka]

Our website https://obnovka.ua/ We are on social networks: https://www.youtube.com/@OBNOVKA https://www.tiktok.com/@obnovka.ua https://www.facebook.com/obnovka.ua https://www.instagram.com/obnovka.ua/ https://www.threads.net/@obnovka.ua https://www.pinterest.com/OBNOVKAua/ https://x.com/OBNOVKA_ua https://t.me/OBNOVKAua

[hikercarl]

Top 10 Best Hiking Boots for Every Terrain

Discover the top 10 best hiking boots for conquering any trail. From waterproof to lightweight options, find your perfect match for comfort and durability on every adventure.

Hiking boots are key for your comfort and performance on the trail. Today, we favor lighter materials that still support well. Waterproof boots are now the top choice. After testing many models, we’ve picked the top best hiking boots for you. These boots are sorted into three types: light for day hikes, midweight for backpacking, and heavy for tough terrain. Key Takeaways Hiking boot prices…

[hiking-shoes30]

Step Up Your Adventure: A Guide to Finding the Perfect Hiking Shoes

Ah, hiking! The feeling of fresh air on your face, the crunch of leaves underfoot, and the stunning scenery that unfolds with every step. But before you embark on your next outdoor adventure, there's one crucial piece of equipment you need: the right pair of hiking shoes.

Try this product Hiking Shoes

Think of your hiking shoes as trusty companions. They'll carry you over rugged terrain, support your ankles on uneven paths, and keep your feet comfortable for miles to come. But with so many options on the market, choosing the perfect pair can feel overwhelming. Fear not, fellow adventurer! This guide will equip you with the knowledge to find the ideal hiking shoes for your unique needs and terrain.

Know Your Terrain:

Imagine yourself scaling a rocky mountain peak, traversing a muddy forest trail, or leisurely strolling through a national park. Each environment demands different features in a hiking shoe. Here's a breakdown for common hiking terrains:

Day Hiking & Light Trails: For well-maintained paths and gentle inclines, prioritize comfort and breathability. Lightweight hiking shoes with good traction are ideal.

Moderate Hiking & Uneven Terrain: Hitting the trails with steeper slopes and loose rocks? Look for sturdier hiking boots with ankle support and aggressive treads for better grip.

Backpacking & Rugged Terrain: Carrying a heavy backpack calls for maximum support and stability. Choose high-ankle hiking boots with waterproof materials and exceptional traction for challenging terrain.

Comfort is King (and Queen):

Hiking is supposed to be enjoyable, not a test of your endurance. Here's how to ensure your shoes feel great from the first step:

Fit: This is paramount! Your shoes shouldn't be too tight or too loose. Allow enough room for your toes to wiggle and for slight swelling on longer hikes.

Break-in Period: Don't underestimate the power of a good break-in period. Wear your new shoes for short walks around town before hitting the trails.

Cushioning: Your feet will thank you for ample cushioning. Look for shoes with good shock absorption, especially for longer hikes with significant elevation gain.

Features for Every Foot:

Hiking shoes come with a variety of features that cater to specific needs:

Waterproof Membranes: For wet or muddy conditions, a waterproof membrane like Gore-Tex® keeps your feet dry and comfortable.

Breathable Materials: These allow moisture to escape, keeping your feet cool and preventing blisters. Mesh panels are often found in hiking shoes for breathability.

Shank Support: A shank is a stabilizing plate inserted between the midsole and outsole. It provides additional support and helps prevent fatigue on long hikes.

Ankle Support: High-ankle boots offer more stability and protect your ankles on uneven terrain. Opt for mid-ankle boots for a good balance of support and flexibility on moderate trails.

Traction: This is crucial for preventing slips and falls. Look for aggressive treads with deep lugs for better grip on different surfaces.

Beyond the Basics:

Now that you've grasped the essentials, let's delve into some additional considerations:

Weather Conditions: Will you be hiking in hot, cold, or rainy weather? Choose shoes with appropriate insulation or breathability based on the expected climate.

Weight: For long-distance hikes or backpacking, lighter shoes make a big difference.

Personal Style: While function is key, don't discount aesthetics! Many hiking shoes come in stylish colors and designs that complement your outdoor spirit.

Remember:

Invest in Quality: Hiking shoes are an investment in your comfort and safety. Opt for a well-respected brand that offers durable and reliable footwear.

Seek Expert Advice: Don't hesitate to visit a reputable outdoor store and talk to a knowledgeable salesperson. They can assess your needs and recommend the perfect shoes for your next adventure.

Bonus Tip: Take care of your hiking shoes! After each use, clean them thoroughly with a damp cloth and allow them to dry completely. This will extend their lifespan and keep them performing their best.

With the right pair of hiking shoes by your side, you're ready to conquer any trail and explore the breathtaking beauty of the outdoors. So, lace up, step out, and create unforgettable memories on your next hiking adventure!

[tumble-tv]

ICE raids are happening.

Any immigrants, no matter how long you have been a citizen of the USA, is at risk of being deported either out of the country as a whole or into what are basically concentration camps. Raids starting in Chicago, Illinois. and spreading to other major cities with high POC and Hispanic populations. The US Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and Customs and Border Patrol (CBP) have started raiding homes and families in California.

There are no "protected locations" as of January 21, 2025. Hospitals, schools, and churches are all at risk of being raided, where before these places were deemed safe and off limits to raids.

When it comes to spotting an ICE agent, look for these:

Weirdly neat/well kept hair (shaved heads, side parts, military burs for men; low buns, high ponytails, close cropped bobs for women)

Oversized jacket (long and bulky outerwear makes it easier to hide tools/equipment without being suspicious)

Both hands in pockets

Many undercover agents/cops buy cheap plain clothes off the racks so they aren’t seen in their own clothes. This can make their outfit seem awkward

Sweatshirts with the hood up

Sports apparel (warm up jacket, sweats, etc) with non-sports clothes (jeans, cargo shorts)

Cargo pants/shorts (usually full of items like their badge, flashlight, taser, pepper spray, backup handcuffs, zip ties)

Military or hiking style boots, sometimes chunky sneakers (extra points if none of it matches anything in their outfit)

Outline of a gun in their pants/shirt (easy to see when bending, leaning, or raising arms) (NO NOT SAY ANYTHING)

Overly friendly

Overly inquisitive

“How old are you” and “what do you know about this happening” are both red flags, along with generally odd and personal questions

Don’t fit in

Mismatched pairs in public spaces (usually cops do these things in pairs. They don’t talk to each other or acknowledge each other much, if at all)

DO NOT SAY ANYTHING UNTIL YOU ARE 100% SURE

YOUR BEST BET IS NOT TO SAY ANYTHING UNTIL THE SUSPECT STARTS ACTING OFF AND GETTING PUSHY

COPS ARE NOT OBLIGATED TO TELL YOU THAT THEY ARE UNDERCOVER

COPS CAN AND WILL LIE TO YOU

SCREAM “LA MIGRA” AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS

For protesting:

N95 masks

Respirator/gas mask if you have access to one

Water water water water water (I hate to say it, but disposable one use bottles are best here. If it comes to it, you need to be able to drop and run.) Use for flushing wounds, flushing eyes of tear gas, and of course drinking.

Snacks! You'll be doing a lot of walking and/or running and need to keep that energy up. Trail mix, dried fruit, nuts, granola bars, crackers, jerky/meat sticks, fruit snacks, candy, etc. Think of it like packing your lunchbox for a field trip.

Eyedrops (teargas is a bitch)

Goggles (I bring my old snowboarding goggles)

If you are wearing a t-shirt or have exposed skin, put on fake/temporary tattoos. If you are brought into something and they say you were there, showing a picture of you with the tattoos, show them where that tattoo would be and how there’s nothing there. How would you get rid of a giant flower on your forearm in 2 days anyways?

Wigs fall under the same category as tattoos. The person they're claiming to be you has a blonde bob and you have green hair past your shoulders.It also makes it possible to go with a completely different color without the use of hair dye. This means if they try to arrest you later and try to prove it was you by taking your hair and testing for dye, it won't come back the way they hope. (Thank you @violetrosepetals for this addition!)

Hide your hair. I tuck my hair into my beanie since it’s short. If you have longer hair, try to do the same or tuck it into your shirt. Balaclavas are also a good choice, as they cover both your face and hair.

Power bank

Chargers

Helmet. Any is fine, my personal choice is a skating helmet since they’re rounder and can take more damage, but tactical is also good

Hand sanitizer

Gloves with hard knuckles (tactical gloves). These pack a good punch even if you don't have the correct form. Don't have those? Wrist guards for roller skating/skateboarding work kinda like that too. More of a slapping motion, but still hurt like a bitch. Extra points if they're all scuffed up from use and falls.

Bandanas. Somebody might need one for their face or hair, maybe you need to get dirt off somebody’s face, maybe somebody got injured. They’re great for anything and everything.

Cash (try to stick to cash, your card can be tracked)

Medications if you take them. If you get arrested or happen to somehow be away for longer than expected after the protest, it’s always good to have emergency meds

FIRST AID ALL THE FIRST AID (Tourniquet, Quikclot, chest seal, trauma shears, gauze, bandages, duct tape, and all the usual stuff you’d have in there)

Good shoes. Boots and sneakers are your best choices. Not heels, not platforms, not sandals. Good boots or shoes that won't come off your feet too easily when you run. Steel toed shoes are a great option. Your toes won't be squashed, but also it'll hurt someone a lot more if you start kicking.

Spare socks. Trust me. You can use them to stop bleeding if it comes to it, but also you can put rocks in there and boom weapon. Also if the socks you're wearing get wet.

As much covering clothing as you can handle. Plain jeans, plain hoodie, plain t-shirt, keep yourself as anonymous as possible. Black and baggy is best.

Photocopy of your ID, not your real one.

Sunscreen!

Make sure your clothes have pockets, even if you have a bag. You want everything to be easily accessible.

Do not wear contact lenses. If tear gas is used, that will make everything so much worse. Wear your glasses or go blind. If you have overly unique or identifiable frames, goggles are your friend here. Get some goggles that will fit over your frames, preferably ones that are tinted.

If you use mobility aids, cover defining features. Logos, brand names, colors, stickers, all of it. Take some old plain t-shirt and tie it around your wheelchair’s backrest. Wrap your wheelchair frame in cling wrap, then duct tape, or plain black self adhering medical tape. Cover stickers on your cane or crutches the same way. Electric chair? You have a little more work, but you can do it. Wrap it up. Same idea. Walker? Same thing. Cover. It. All.

If you are bringing a bag, make sure that bag is as plain as possible. No pins. No patches. No keychains. Except maybe a pride flag so people know which team you're playing on.

Scarf or keffiyeh if you have one. They have many uses!

Write a reliable phone number (of someone who is not at the protest with you) on your body. On the off chance you get arrested, that is your emergency contact.

Pocket knife.

Pepper spray/mace/bear spray

if you get tear gassed, shake around first before using water. Most tear gas is more of a powder and water has a high likelihood of just spreading it around. (Thank you @actually-a-bread-loaf for this addition!)

Tennis rackets also work wonderfully for chucking tear gas canisters back at those throwing them. Anybody asks, you're going out to play tennis with friends later. Baseball bats also work! (Thank you @azul-nova-24 for this addition!)

Anything you can throw. Soup for my family.

IF YOU CAN, LEAVE YOUR PHONE AT HOME

IF YOU HAVE TO TAKE IT WITH YOU, TURN OFF LOCATION SERVICES ON ALL APPS AND TURN OFF BIOMETRICS (FACE ID AND FINGERPRINT) SO YOU CAN ONLY UNLOCK YOUR PHONE WITH YOUR PASSWORD

COPS CAN FORCE YOU TO OPEN YOUR PHONE WITH YOUR FINGERPRINT OR FACE ID

MAKE SURE SOMEBODY KNOWS GENERALLY WHERE YOU ARE

If you see a potential or active raid, take pictures and note the time and location. Post online if you can, as well.

You have the right to remain silent. State that you wish to remain silent. Avoid giving information about anybody's immigration status. You have the right to refuse to sign anything before speaking to an attorney. You have the right to refuse searches of your car, your home, and yourself. Schools do not collect a child's immigration status.

I do not want to scare anybody, but this is what life is right now. That man does not care how long you have been a citizen of this country. If you are not a white, cisgender, heterosexual, Christian male, you are seen as less than by men in power. You are not less than. You are a threat to them, and they are scared. Keep it that way.

Even if you're not currently protesting, it's good to know this just in case. Things are happening very quickly, and there is a very high chance of it changing very quickly within the next four years.

Here's the link to my post on what to bring in terms of first aid.

If you cannot attend protests, that’s fine. Do what’s best for you. Even just reposting information helps.

This is an updated version of this post,

Updated January 27, 2025.

[northwestterritory]

Women's Leather Walking Waterproof Boots: The Perfect Blend of Style and Functionality

When it comes to footwear that seamlessly combines style, comfort, and durability, women's leather walking waterproof boots stand out as a top choice. These boots are not just a fashion statement but a practical solution for those who love to explore the outdoors, no matter the weather. In this blog post, we'll delve into the features that make these boots a must-have for every woman's wardrobe, as well as some tips on how to pair them with the right accessories.

Why Choose Women's Leather Walking Waterproof Boots?

1. Durability and Longevity

One of the most compelling reasons to invest in women's leather walking waterproof boots is their durability. Leather is a material known for its strength and resilience, making it perfect for footwear that will be subjected to various outdoor conditions. Whether you're walking on rocky trails or navigating wet terrain, these boots are designed to last.

2. Waterproof Protection

The waterproof feature of these boots is a game-changer for outdoor enthusiasts. No longer do you have to worry about getting your feet wet when crossing streams or walking through puddles. The waterproof lining ensures that your feet stay dry and comfortable, allowing you to enjoy your outdoor adventures without any discomfort.

3. Comfort and Support

Comfort is paramount when it comes to walking boots, and women's leather walking waterproof boots do not disappoint. With cushioned insoles and supportive midsoles, these boots provide the comfort and support your feet need for long walks or hikes. The premium leather molds to the shape of your feet over time, ensuring a personalized fit that is both comfortable and supportive.

Styling Your Women's Leather Walking Waterproof Boots

Pairing your boots with the right outfit can elevate your look and make you feel confident and stylish. Here are some outfit ideas to inspire you:

Casual Chic: Pair your boots with skinny jeans, a cozy sweater, and a chunky scarf for a casual yet chic look perfect for weekend outings or coffee dates.

Outdoor Adventure: Opt for breathable hiking pants, a moisture-wicking top, and a lightweight jacket to complement your boots when you're hitting the trails.

City Explorer: For a day of exploring the city, pair your boots with a flowy midi skirt, a fitted top, and a stylish backpack for a trendy and comfortable outfit.

Accessorizing with Men's Hiking and Walking Socks

While the focus is often on the boots, the importance of good quality socks should not be overlooked. Men's hiking and walking socks play a crucial role in ensuring comfort and preventing blisters, especially during long walks or hikes.

Features to Look for in Hiking Socks:

Moisture-Wicking: Opt for socks made from materials like merino wool or synthetic blends that wick moisture away from the skin, keeping your feet dry and comfortable.

Cushioning: Look for socks with extra cushioning in high-impact areas like the heel and ball of the foot to provide added comfort and support.

Breathability: Choose socks with breathable mesh panels or ventilation channels to promote air circulation and keep your feet cool.

Pairing Hiking Boots with the Right Socks

Choosing the right socks to pair with your hiking boots can make a significant difference in your comfort level. Here's how to match them effectively:

For Warm Weather: Opt for lightweight, breathable socks that offer moisture-wicking properties to keep your feet cool and dry.

For Cold Weather: Choose insulating socks made from merino wool or synthetic blends to keep your feet warm and cozy in colder temperatures.

For Long Hikes: Consider compression socks that offer graduated compression to improve circulation and reduce fatigue during long hikes.

Conclusion

Women's leather walking waterproof boots are a versatile and functional footwear option that offers durability, waterproof protection, and comfort. Whether you're exploring the great outdoors or navigating the city streets, these boots are sure to keep your feet happy and stylish.

Pairing your boots with high-quality men's hiking and walking socks can further enhance your comfort and support, ensuring that you're ready for any adventure that comes your way.

So, why wait? Invest in a pair of women's leather walking waterproof boots and men's hiking and walking socks today and step out in style and confidence on your next outdoor excursion!

[haddassah]

The call of the wild beckons, and for outdoor enthusiasts, the correct pair of hiking boots can make all the difference in conquering varied terrains. Having the correct footwear is vital for mounting rough mountain climbs, navigating muddy paths, or exploring dense forests. This tutorial will go over the important characteristics and factors for selecting men’s hiking boots that are suitable for a variety of terrains.

[globaltravelnews]

10 Of the Best Women's Hiking Boots That Will Keep You Safe and Comfortable

Regarding outdoor apparel, few items are more important than a good pair of hiking boots. Hiking boots are designed to protect your feet and ankles from the elements and provide traction on uneven terrain. They are an essential piece of gear for any hiker, no matter their experience level. There are a lot of different factors to consider when choosing the right pair of hiking boots, such as fit,…

[portraitsofguilt]

Wanted to know your take on Valo women reacting to fem reader wearing their clothes! Can be nsfw or sfw! Whatever you’re more comfortable with, was hoping for skye, sage, and fade (anyone else if you’d like)! If that’s too many the first too would be appreciated!

✮ ┆ WEARING THEIR CLOTHES. skye, sage, fade, viper, deadlock

based on the request above. CONTENT WARNING.           18+ only, minors dni. SUGGESTIVE/SFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT; female-bodied reader, stealing clothes, suggestive touches/dialogues,  | ~1k words A/N.                   i don’t normally write for skye but writing this might have just made me put her up on the list guys, i love her <3 anyways, hope you guys liked it, and thank you for reading! apologize for the long wait...

SKYE.

hiking with skye was always something to look forward to, even if one or both of you kept tripping over the fallen branches of the trees. you were waiting for kirra on top of a hill, sitting the the cool grass while keeping your bags safe, waiting for her to get back from whatever it was she wanted to check out at the end of the trail. you felt a shiver run through you, and remembered that you didn’t pack an extra sweater for yourself, you peeked into kirra’s bag to take the one she probably had. you just about pulled it over your figure when you heard skye’s bulky boots approaching. she gaped, her eyes widened and lips parted softly in surprise. “look at you all cozy.” she grinned eagerly, sitting down next to you and taking a good look at you in her sweater. “got a little chilly sitting and waiting, sorry.” you murmur as you lay your head on her shoulder, looping your arm with hers. kirra just chuckles contently, her free hand coming up to caress your cheek while placing a kiss on top of your head. “you look like eye candy, we must pick some more out for you back at base.”

SAGE.

even the protocol had to have a bouge, fancy, get together sometimes to keep morale up and at least have the sense of a normal life. with some important papers to hand in tonight, you had to be late for the party and in the middle of all of it, you forgot to pick out what to wear. hoping that sage would have some idea what to put on you ran to her room, but there was no sign of her anywhere. looking down at your watch there wasn’t much else for you to do but grab one of her dress shirts and run to the event. sage only notices that you have taken her shirt when some of the other agents point it out. “you’re late, bao bei.” she hums behind her champagne glass, taking a sip out of it and you don’t miss the way her eyes give a quick look over you before she puts the glass down on the counter, her pearly whites visible even in the dim lights. “paperwork kept me busy.” you sigh, watching her glide along the counter, letting little distance between the two of you, and hiding her face in the crook of your neck. “looks like i will be some overtime on you.”

FADE.

you knew that fade wasn’t too keen on sharing; she wouldn’t even let you take a sip from her morning coffee when you were too lazy to brew your own cup. which prompted her to when she went out to get a cup for herself, she also got one more for you. you just stepped out of the shower, stuck with the dirty shirt you brought with you or to take something from hazal’s wardrobe. you were gonna take your chances with her clothes and once you finally found a suitable shirt you got back into bed. a couple of seconds ago fade came back, a strange look on her face. “watcha looking at?” you ask, not realizing that her weird expression is all about the shirt- she moves one of her hands in front of her face, trying to hide her blush behind the mug. “doesn’t matter, not important.” she mumbles before climbing into bed next to you, offering you a mug which you gladly took. you feel her hand rest on your hip, fingers clutching the hem of the shirt before leaning to kiss your cheek. “you should keep it…” she hums, voice raspy, and you can feel the smile that pulls on her lips.

VIPER.

at first, you were scared to take a piece of clothing from sabine’s closet, firstly because you weren’t sure if she’d be okay with it, and secondly because when you first opened her closet the way it was so neat and organized scared you. the moment when she spots you in one of her shirts or cardigans she can hardly fight the smile tugging on the corner of her lips as she walks up to your side. you’re ready for her to complain when you realize, stammering out excuses of why you were wearing what’s hers and you are surprised how she grabs you by the neck of the clothes and pulls you to be face to face with her. “sabine!” you yelp in surprise. “you look… good enough to eat, darling.” she murmurs, in that smooth voice of hers that has your heart to pick up an extra beat, pushing her chest closer to yours. you roll your eyes a little at her words though, your hands climbing onto her shoulder to get a little space but she doesn’t let go so easily. her lips are running along your jaw, down your neck, a single finger pulling on the neck of the shirt you stole from her, and her teeth sink into your skin. “what am i gonna do with you now, hm?”

DEADLOCK.

that one green shirt that she always wore and loved so much, that was what you eyed yourself in the mirror. you couldn’t help but try it on, you were always curious what she liked so much about this shirt, why she had so many of it and you kind of understood- soft fabric, the nice stitching, and how the temperature felt just right around you. so lost in the technicalities of one shirt, you didn’t notice iselin stepping into the frame behind you. stammering something, you attempt to take the shirt off but the blonde stops you. “no, keep it on.” she hums, settling her around you, letting one finger trace under the fabric of the shirt, running along your tummy before she settles them on your hips, pulling you against herself. her lips brush against your ear, a featherlight kiss behind it before she talks again. “picks up your scent that way, i’d like that.”

[drgnflyteabox]

happy wife happy life

pairing: kate laswell x fem!reader summary: welcome home, soldier tags/warnings: housewife kink, oral sex (f), reader is emotional<3, vaginal fingering, mommy kink, age difference, dom/sub, self indulgent, soft, praise kink, tit play, dacryphilia, service kink, face sitting & 69ing, kate isn't into penetration but reader is, scent kink, orgasm delay/control w.c: 2.4k

Kate is back.

She’s in one of those moods again, contemplative and quiet. You’ve seen it before, and though you haven’t been official for that long you’re starting to recognize a pattern.

Her back is tense, shoulders hiked as though still defensive. There’s a physicality about her that’s different when fresh off her ‘missions’, as you’ve taken to calling them affectionately. Knots in her that don’t fade until she’s properly well-fucked, sat in a bath and had you waiting on her.

“Had a good flight?” you ask, voice soft. The lights are dimmed, too. Nothing overhead. A linen candle burns on the coffee table while dinner cooks in the oven.

A game, almost. You, the housewife and she, the returning soldier. It would be all true and not just half true if not for the fact that you’d just finished your third year of university, but it’s fun nonetheless to pretend. Doting on Kate is the most fun you’ve had in a while.

“Long,” she sighs. Her boots go by the door, nice and tidy the way you like it. Happy wife, happy life, she’d joked once.

She steps quietly into the room, surveilling it like it’s got some hidden threat. You stand and wait for a moment, waiting for her to lose a fraction of the tension she’s holding and deem your apartment safe.

Clear.

When she acknowledges you, you step toward her and press your nose to her cheekbone, inhaling. Cotton deodorant, some sweat underneath it, the smell of some flowery conditioner they’ve probably got for the women on base.

Her arms find your back, smoothing up and down like the softness of you is something she’ll never get enough of.

“My girl,” she says affectionately against your cheek, lips a little chapped but still soft. Airplane air, you figure.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you murmur, stepping back just enough that you’re facing each other. “Want a bath?”

Kate hums, so you pad diligently to the bathroom and set up.

Little tealight candles, a heap of epsom salts for her muscles, her favourite bubble bath scent. You know it's her favourite because she used to compliment you on the way your skin smelled, the way the smell of ylang-ylang and cinnamon would drift up from your skin on some of your first dates.

Hot water for the epsom salts to dissolve and for her likely sore muscles. It’s a treat for you, too, to watch her sink in and groan. Makes you feel warm inside. Accomplished.

“Mm,” Kate hums, stepping out of her work pants. You try not to look at her panties, then her pussy, but you must fail because she laughs in the quiet of the bathroom. “Greedy girl. Be patient.”

She’s a little overgrown, and your mouth salivates. You turn so she can’t see your hungry expression and pull out some bath oil.

“Here,” you squeeze a few drops into the steaming water. “For your airplane skin.”

She tilts her head back, smiling at you. You take a seat at the edge of the tub, trying again not to look at her soft breasts peeking through the bubbles and once again failing.

“Missed me?” she closes her eyes, smiling stretching into a grin. Her arms leave the water and hold the sides of the tub, as if ready to pounce.

“I always miss you,” you say, trying to be sweet. Trying to ignore the steady pulse between your thighs.

“Mm?” she pokes one eye open, sinking a little lower into the bath, wetting her hair. “Is it you missing me or is it that naughty little pussy?”

You suck in a breath, heart flipping.

“It’s me,” you squeak.

Her eye squints as the apple of her cheek pulls up, smiling like a prideful lion. You feel her finger draw light circles on the exposed skin of your thigh, hand tilted towards you.

“Don’t lie,” she says, ignoring the way your breath stutters like someone’s punched you in the sternum. “That isn’t polite.”

She always knows exactly what you need, when you need it. Never bothers drawing you in and never has, she’s always dropped you right in the deep end.

Mommy. You breath out, skin prickling and hot. Sex was something odd for you; something you’d never been able to fully enjoy before Kate, not with your propensity for turning the act into something people usually don’t sign up for.

You’re a crier, is what it is.

Sex is vulnerability for you. A shedding of layers, an extension of tender trust and expectation of care you haven’t found much in strangers, and so casual never worked for you.

Kate wasn’t casual. She’d bent you till you broke the first week of knowing her, weeping fat tears onto a hotel pillow and saying thank you mommy, I love you mommy. Cracked you open and spilled your insides into the palm of her hand.

Not even a few months later and she knows she’s got you wrapped around her finger. In more ways than one.

“I really did miss you,” you breathe. Her fingers touch your knee, tapping idly.

“I know, sweetheart,” she closes her eyes again, tipping her head back. The line of her neck shines from the heat, illuminating faint scars and skin turned tan from hours in the sun.

God, you feel shameless. Your throat tightens, thighs coming together, clit swelling. Though her eyes are closed, Kate exudes a smugness you know is helping her unwind. Giving her that power helps the both of you. It’s a bonus that it feels so good.

You end up leaving her to soak. The lasagna looks good in the oven, steadily bubbling under the tinfoil. In two minutes, you’ll peel it off and let it crisp up, hoping Kate will touch your cheek and call you a good wife.

She emerges in a towel, clean and white and sprayed with your linen laundry scent. Her skin still steams a little, but her shoulders have relaxed and her neck isn’t so stiff.

“Looks good, babygirl,” she throws a terry cloth robe on and sits, letting you slide a plate full of lasagna and Caesar salad towards her.

“Thank you,” you tuck in. Cooking is nice, but nicer when it’s for Kate and exam stress is behind you. The freedom of time and the motivation to impress her really pushes you to do your best, and the feeling of gratification as she licks her fork rivals only the needy throb of your cunt.

“I thought I told you patience,” she raises a brow at you. “I can see you squirming.”

“Can’t help it,” you sigh, trying to lick your fork to tempt her.

“No? Do you need another lesson in patience?”

“Ah, no, no. I can be patient,” you don’t want another lesson; don’t want to see her stern tonight. Already your chest pinches with emotion, both her recent absence and the elation of seeing her again fighting a tug-of-war over your heart.

Doing the dishes takes a distinct amount of self control, but you manage it. Even though she stands beside you, smelling so good and wearing only a robe with her sternum exposed, you manage it.

She turns to you when the last plate is dried, when the lasagna is put away, and grabs your hips in a firm grip.

“Bedroom?”

Though you’ve been acting like a bitch in heat panting over her since she stepped in the door, you appreciate the check-in.

“Mhm.”

“Use your words.”

“Yeah, bedroom,” you’re barely finished saying it when she gently spins you, crowding up behind you and walking forward to push you in the direction of your bedroom.

It’s practically shared at this point, what with how often she’s here between her deployments.

Kate kisses the side of your neck, inhaling your skin and sighing like she’s saying finally.

Fuck if you aren’t feeling the same way.

“Kate,” you breathe, hands cupping over hers as she reaches up to squeeze your tits.

“Ah ah,” she tuts. “You know what to call me, my girl.”

“Mommy,” and it’s nearly a whimper.

You’re spun again, gently still, and then stripped of your dress. Kate rubs your sides appreciatively before she unclips your bra, letting your tits fall into her hands.

“Beautiful,” she smiles. Your underwear comes off next, her sure hands sliding them off and tapping your calves to get you to step out of them.

You stand naked in front of her, already hazy, already soaking and wetting your inner thighs.

“I’m gonna sit on your face, sweetheart,” she slowly pushes you, letting the back of your knees hit the bed first before your butt does. “Lay back for mommy.”

You lay back, scooting a bit up the bed to give her room.

“I’m going to use you, mkay?”

You nod.

“Words, babygirl.”

“Use me,” you breathe, skin tightening over your whole body, forming two points at your nipples and making you shiver. Kate crawls on top of you, turning to face your body when she reaches your head.

“Keep your hands at your sides,” she orders.

Though you can see her pussy, though it’s so fucking close to your face you can hardly stop yourself from moving, you wait like a good girl as she sheds her bathrobe and slowly lowers her hips.

She smells good. You’ve never expressed it out loud before for fear of judgment, but you love the way she smells.

Kate is particular about what she likes, and she’s taught you her preferences diligently. No fingers, nothing but your hot little tongue inside her.

You run the tip of your tongue around her clit, then toward her hole, spreading her lips with your tongue and licking between them, softly at first and then building pressure. The flat of your tongue rubs against the hard nub of her clit and makes her sigh with pleasure. Her bush tickles you a little.

“That’s good, sweetheart,” she swivels her hips a little as you push your nose between her folds, letting her grind down on it as you lap at her.

The wetness between your legs grows until you feel a damp spot under you, thighs rubbing together as she ignores your neediness in favor of reaching down to tweak your nipples.

“Mm, make mommy come and then I’ll give you a kiss,” she sighs.

You suck her clit into your mouth, teasing her a little with your tongue and feeling her thighs tense beside your head.

Wetness coats your nose, your cheeks, your mouth and chin. She tastes good, too.

You feel it the moment she starts to come, her clit pulsing against your tongue, hands gripping your breasts like anchors in a storm. You moan into her, knowing the vibrations are helping her alone.

“Good girl,” she pants, grinding out the last little aftershocks. “My sweet girl deserves a reward for a job well done.”

And finally, she leans forward and spreads your pussy lips with her fingers, diving in with the point of her tongue aimed for your clit.

“Mmm,” Kate moans as you lick her gently, returning the favor between your own legs. “She’s needy, isn’t she sweetheart?”

You moan against her again in agreement.

“If only you could see this desperate little clit,” her voice is pleased, amused. Smug again. “Jumping out at me, begging for attention.”

You don’t need to see it — you can feel it. Your clit juts out, sensitive and tender. The feeling of her wrapping her lips around it and sneaking two fingers below and into your hole makes tears sting at your eyes.

“Always so sensitive,” she murmurs. “That’s alright, let it out.”

It becomes harder to focus on your task, but you try. Her second orgasm builds much slower than the first, coming in tandem with yours.

“Wait ‘till I come again,” she warns.

You try to hold it, desperately spearing your tongue into her and rubbing your nose against her clit. She twitches against you, breathing harder, moaning.

When she does come, finally, you let yourself release and your tears mix with the wetness already on you.

“Fuck,” she curses. “That’s good, good girl.”

You shake, pleasure cresting in waves over you, body alive and singing and relishing in the feeling of her skin over yours.

“Mmmhn—” you pant, hands clenching at your sides.

Kate sits up, swinging a leg over and laying down beside you. Her hand finds your stomach, gliding over it with her nails and making it jump.

“Such a good girl,” she kisses your jaw, sucking a mark into it. Her fingers move from your stomach down to your cunt again, spreading you open and pressing inside.

You pant, tears squeezing out of your eyes and trembling from sensitivity.

“You’re going to give me another,” she sucks your earlobe. “One more, for mommy.”

“Yes, mommy,” your mouth falls open and you shout.

Her hand cups your pussy, two fingers curled inside you as her palm presses hard into your sensitive clit. She murmurs soft words into your ear, and though you can’t hear them well you let them shelter you as the storm of your pleasure builds and builds and builds—

Until you come apart in her hands again, crying out and arching your back and clenching your hole against her fingers.

You sag against the bed as you finish, shivering with some aftershocks and sensitively, whining as she pulls her fingers out.

“So good for mommy,” she praises. She lifts her hand and sucks her fingers clean, leaning forward and doing the same to your mouth.

You end up in a messy kiss, more licking than anything.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, mommy.”

“Mm, my good girl. Ready for a shower?”

Another aspect of your relationship you hadn’t been able to find elsewhere — she cares for you after, too. You know it's normal, expected even. But it still touches you, still fills you with a kind of glowing warmth that’s impossible to hide from her.

Especially when she’s relaxed now. When she’s letting you scrub her back and doing the same for you, filling the bathroom with that same scent. Ylang-ylang, cinnamon.

The sheets are a mess, but you drag a quilt over them and resolve to do them in the morning.

Kate curls around you, cocooning you against the world.

“I love you, my girl,” she kisses your cheek.

“I love you too, Kate. Goodnight,” you yawn.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

[deanwritings]

The Guest House - Chapter 12

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 3,760

A/N: I'm back! Therapy has been great, I'm feeling like myself and that I can breath again. It's been a tough year and ya girl's mind needed a restart, but I am back and doing good.

Also, hope this chapter can be a bit of escape with the election insanity this week. Take care of yourselves everyone! 💖

Dean squeezes his eyes shut as he rests against the door.

What the fuck are you doing? Is all that rings in his mind.

Here he is, with some random girl who's staying in his guest house, put there by his bitch of an ex wife, basically groping her while his mother is a room away. Like he’s seventeen again. 

Really and truly. What the fuck. Are. You. Doing?

Dean rubs an exasperated hand down his face, the heels of his palms digging into his eyes before his hands slap down against his sides. 

It’s the whiskey. He tells himself. Just the whiskey. 

It has nothing to do with your smile. Like when you lit up on the track when you found out Rick would be taking you racing in your dream car. 

Nor your smart ass remarks that always seem to be waiting behind those pretty lips of yours. Or how you drive him crazy in the best and worst ways. Like making him say “please” in the garage this afternoon. 

It definitely has nothing to do with the way you look at him, no longer with disdain, but more recently with shining Y/E/C eyes and something that makes him want to throw you against this damn door, his nose running down the delicate skin of your neck as he takes you in as his hands explore every part of you. 

It also doesn’t help how you react to him; like when he turned your manners game around on you in the garage, and your eyes lit up in a way that made him want to throw you across the hood of Baby and have his way with you. Then just now in the hallway, how you seemed to want this as much as he did. How you leaned into him at his touch, the feel of your curves everywhere as he held you against him.

Those god damn hips. 

Dean’s jaw tightens at the thought, his teeth grinding down as something besides his heart rate starts to rise. 

Fuck. His head falls back with a thud against the doorframe. 

Y/N is hardly the first woman he’s been attracted to since his separation from Lisa. Hell, in the beginning, women were what kept his mind off his imploded marriage. Benny had laughed that Dean was making up for lost time since he and Lisa had gotten together when they were so young, but in reality, Dean just hated coming home to an empty house every day. All he could think of was Lisa and Gavin in his house. In his bed.  

But Dean would be lying to himself if this was only attraction. Ever since their hike, he’s found himself looking towards your cabin everyday before work, hoping to catch a glance of you before he has to leave. When sitting at his empty dining table, he would think about texting you, or maybe even going over and knocking on the cabin door, envisioning interrupting your own meal and riling you up in the process. Watching that fire come alive in you set something alive in Dean. It was like a wildfire, and he was happily caught in its path. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like that. Somehow, at some point, you had drawn him in, and god damn did he want more. So much more. 

And it’s not just your body he wants to get to know. He’s found himself wondering what your favorite color is, or what movies you like to watch. He wanted to know, besides him, what made you tick? What makes you happy?

Could I make her happy?

Dean shakes his head and toes his boots off, shaking his head, trying to rid his thoughts of you. He doesn’t want to think about that last question, because he knows the answer. 

And while he tries to focus on undressing, his body is not willing to let go of the idea of you just yet.  

He’s wound up, and god damnit did he need a release. 

He undoes his belt and reaches into his boxers, feeling himself strain against the fabric as he takes a deep breath. He grunts, squeezing his eyes shut before pulling his hand out of his pants.

He shakes his head. He can’t do this. Not with you a wall away and his mother across the hall. He has some self respect. Not much, but he couldn’t sink as low as jerking off to you while you slept in his little brother’s room.

Sam.

And just like that, thinking of Sammy snaps him out of it. He relaxes with a deep breath, the tension finally beginning to fade away.

For extra measure, he pushes himself off the door and pulls it open, striding quickly down the hall to the unoccupied bathroom. He locks the door behind him and reaches into the shower and throws the water on. He drops his undone pants, letting them and his boxers pool around his feet before stepping out of them and throwing his sweater over his head before stepping into the shallow tub. 

He takes in a sharp breath as the cold spray of the shower meets his heated skin, his teeth clenched tight as he drowns himself under the stream as he works to think about anything but you.

Your eyes flutter open, a glimmer of the morning sun sneaking through the gaps of the curtained window. You take in a deep breath, flipping from your side to your back and sigh as you look up at the ceiling. 

Your mind is still reeling from last night; Dean’s hands holding you tight against him, his lips teasing your neck. 

You shut your eyes and swallow.

It was simultaneously one of the hottest and most frustrating things a man has ever done to you. Of course you had wished he had done a hell of a lot more, but the tease of it somehow made it that much more exciting. It made you wonder what else was in store for you. Just a sweet little taste of the possibilities that was Dean Winchester. 

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand beside you, and you shake off last night’s memories as you lean over to pick it up, the screen reading 9:52 with a few notifications beneath it.  

Shit. You quickly sit up. Normally, this would be a regular wakeup time for you on vacation or on the weekends, but you were a guest in someone’s home, and it felt incredibly rude to be up here sleeping while they were most likely downstairs waiting for you. 

As you scramble out of bed, the throb from last night’s wine is front and center in your head. You reach into your purse and throw back two Advil with a swash of water that you set out on your bedside last night before you throw on some fuzzy socks and a hoodie large enough to snuggle yourself into.

Before you reach for the door, you peek at yourself in the full-length mirror and grimace. You smooth down your hair and give it a fluff with your fingers before you reach into your makeup bag, dabbing on some concealer under your eyes and on a few of your red spots, with a light swipe of subtle blush on your cheeks before you deem you look good enough without looking like you’re trying.

You take a deep breath and open the door, taking in the quiet hallway and noticing both the doors to Mary and Dean’s rooms are ajar.

Fuck. You were at least hoping Dean might have also slept in after last night. But no such luck. 

You head down the stairs, your hand on the rail so you don’t slip in your socks before you wander into the kitchen. Mary is sitting at the table in front of the windows, one of her legs propped up and her head hidden by a book. Dean is hunched on a barstool at the island, a plate of food in front of him, currently being shoveled into his mouth, his usual caveman behavior, you’ve noticed, when it comes to food. 

“Morning,” you offer softly as you head over to the coffee maker, a half pot waiting for you. Mary had given you a tour of the kitchen while you cooked dinner last night, and you reach into the cabinet above the brewer and grab a light yellow ceramic mug and fill it about 3/4s of the way.

“Milk’s in the fridge.” Dean mumbles over the food in his mouth and you turn to face him fully. His eyes are cast down at a paper spread flat in front of him next to his breakfast. A smile you hadn’t intended falls at his lack of attention and you head over to the fridge, pouring until your coffee resembles the color of sand. Exactly how you liked it. 

“Want some coffee with that milk?” That deep voice rings out again, and this time when you look up, you’re met with Dean’s enchanting, forest eyes. Your heart skips a beat in your chest and you recap the milk before putting it away and closing the fridge door.

“Some of us enjoy flavor.” You smirk at him as you lean against the counter behind you, your hands wrapped tightly around the warmed mug, the kitchen cool in this March morning. 

“Milk doesn’t have flavor.” Dean grumbles, shoving a fork filled with eggs into his mouth. You frown at him. 

It’s like the tale of two Deans. The suave, sexy sweatered Dean who looks at you like he’ll throw you over your shoulder and make you scream until your voice is hoarse, and the pain-in-the-ass, mannerless idiot you’ve mostly grown accustomed to these last few weeks. 

Looks like you were getting the idiot this morning. You sigh at your own disappointment and swallow down your frown, wondering what that means about last night. 

When you don’t respond, Dean looks back to you, a question in his eyes. 

“There’s a plate for you in the oven.” Dean points his fork to said appliance. You turn your head, following the direction of his utensil-turned-compass.

“Oh,” your shoulders drop. “You didn’t have to save me a plate.” You feel your cheeks flush at the thought that they waited for you so long this morning that they had to keep a plate warm for you in the oven. 

“Oh don’t worry, Dean made it fresh.” Mary peeks out from behind her book for a quick second before disappearing again behind the cover. Dean drops his fork with a clank and shoots his mother a look, one she misses. 

You push off the counter and pad over to the oven. You pull open the door to find a blue ceramic plate.

No way.

You pull out the plate from the oven, the platter only slightly warm, and are greeted with two pancakes and a side of bacon. 

You quickly close the oven and turn on your heel facing Dean.

“You made me pancakes?” Your voice catches in your throat as you stare down at the fluffy buttermilk pancakes sitting poised on the plate. 

“Yeah, well, mom made eggs and I know your picky ass won’t eat those. Can’t have you starve before a big day.” Dean’s eyes met yours for only a moment before he shifts on the barstool and returns to his paper. 

You smile, even though Dean’s not looking at you anymore. You maneuver around the kitchen, grabbing a fork and knife before settling down at the island, a barstool between you and Dean.

You turn and look at him, his shapely jawline adorned with a devilish level of scruff.

“Thank you.” You say earnestly. This catches Dean’s attention, his gaze finding and holding yours long enough to make your heart skip a beat. 

“Don’t mention it.” He lingers on you for a moment longer before turning back to his paper and flipping a page. 

Your lips quirk but you try to not think too much on it as you begin digging in; the pancakes, buttery and full of vanilla, melting deliciously in your mouth. 

The rest of breakfast goes on in silence; Mary reading her book, Dean focused on the paper, and you left flipping through your phone since no one seemed interested in chatting. 

As you load up your dishes in the dishwasher, Dean folders his paper up and slaps it down on the counter before sitting up straight and crossing his arms as he stares you down.

“Think you can be ready in an hour?” Your face falls.

“More notice would have been nice, but yes, I can be ready in an hour.” 

“Good, cause we’re leaving in an hour.” You cross your arms, matching his stance.

“You don’t say.” Dean rolls his eyes at you and you huff. 

“Just go get ready.” He shakes his head, and now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. 

Such a pain in the ass. A handsome pain with a handsome ass. But still a pain. 

“Fine. See you in an hour.”

Forty-seven minutes later, you’re showered, your hair is dried and curled into a soft wave, and you’re putting on the finishing touches of your makeup when there’s a soft knock on your door.

You peek at your watch.

“I still have thirteen minutes!” You call out. 

Dean really was pushing the boundaries today. And it was driving you crazy. 

He practically dry humps you last night, ignores you this morning, but makes you a delicious breakfast because he remembered you hate eggs. The man was impossible and it was starting to annoy you. And frustrate you, in a way you were not used to. You bite down on your lip.

“It’s just me.” Mary’s gentle voice calls back.

Shit. 

You drop your mascara into your makeup bag and push yourself off the floor and scurry to the door.

“Sorry about that,” you apologize as soon as Mary comes into view. “I assumed you were Dean.” You offer a half smile as Mary chuckles.

“It’s okay. Mind if I come in.” You step aside and open the door fully, allowing Mary to step in. 

“I just wanted to see if you need any help with your outfit.”

“My outfit?” Your brow furrows, and you look over to your bed where your black chunky sweater and jeans lay waiting for you. Mary’s eyes follow your line of sight. 

“I’m going to guess Dean didn’t give you a heads up, since men never think about these things, but these car shows tend to be on the dresser side.”

Fuck. No, Dean did not tell you that. Your jeans were the nicest thing you brought with you. 

“Yeah, he failed to mention that.” Now you stare at your outfit, anxiety flooding through you at the thought of sticking out for being underdressed. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Mary just smiles at you.

“Come with me.” She waves at you before heading out of the room, and like you’re told, you follow her, heading across the hall and into her bedroom.

The room is large and full of windows and natural light. The lake-chic theme of the downstairs continues through the primary bedroom, with white furniture, a canopy bed with a blue bedspread that matches the wainscot walls, and yellow accents throughout the room. On one of the dressers is a large, framed, selfie of Mary and John, which looks more recent than a lot of the pictures in the living room. Mary’s smile is bright as ever as John kisses her cheek, the two of them in heavy jackets and beanie hats, the hint of snow behind them. 

Mary continues through the room, stopping in a short hallway before disappearing through a doorway. 

“I’ve got a few options that will probably fit you.” Mary’s muffled voice carries through the open doorway before she steps back into view, several hangers in her hand. “You look to be about my size from twenty years ago. And luckily I’m terrible at throwing out old clothes.” She chuckles as she lays out her six options on the ombre comforter that probably matches the lake when it’s not frozen. 

They’re all a mix of dresses, different colors and styles, but the fifth from the end catches your eye.

“Ohh, how about that one.”

Dean taps his foot as he waits in the foyer, checking his watch again. It’s now been an hour and seven minutes since you went upstairs. 

“God dammit woman,” he mutters out in a sigh. 

He meant to tell you last night what time you had to be ready, but the two of you got a little preoccupied. Now he was paying for it by not giving you more of a heads up. 

He should have said something the moment you came downstairs this morning, but he wasn't ready to face you right at that moment. The dreams he had about you last night made it hard to look you in the eyes. And when he finally did, you looked absolutely beautiful, sleep still in your Y/E/C eyes and a glow in your cheeks. You looked like you belonged here, resting against the counter in his mother’s kitchen, cozied up in some giant hoodie and pajama pants with coffee-flavored milk in your hands. 

The floor above him creaks and he turns quickly on his heel, his face dropping with his mood when he sees who it is. 

“Is she ready yet?” Dean all but whines to his mother as she descends. Rather than answer him, she stops two steps from the bottom, standing slightly higher than her statuesque son, and smacks him right in the side of the head.

“Ow!” Dean’s hand jumps to where his mother landed her stinging blow. Not that there was much power behind her swat, but she hasn’t smacked him like this since he was a teenager. 

“What the hell was that for?” Dean bemoans with a grimace, cradling his head.

“Dean Michael Winchester.” Dean’s eyebrows furrow at his mother’s use of his full name.

This was not good.

“You didn’t think,” Mary takes another step down. “To one,” she raises a finger. “Tell her that the car show is cocktail attire.”

Shit. 

“And two.” The second finger goes up. “What time to be ready. So don’t you stand here with a puss face asking when she’s going to be ready.” Dean drops his hand at his mother’s scolding and rolls his eyes. 

He starts to shake his head when Mary’s hand makes contact again, the surprise sending Dean stumbling.

“OW!” Dean yells louder this time, more annoyed than actually hurt. With how much smaller Mary was compared to him, Dean doubted she could actually hurt him even if she really wanted to.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Dean.” Her voice is sharp as her grass-green eyes stare him down. 

“I’m sorry, fine.” Dean concedes. “I just didn’t think about it.” But Mary doesn’t break eye contact.

“She’ll be down in a few minutes.” Mary gives him one last pointed look before taking the final step down and disappearing into the living room. 

Dean watches her go before glancing back towards the empty staircase, sighing out his frustration and giving you a few more minutes of grace.

Three minutes and forty-two seconds later, Dean is leaning against the frame of the front door when the upstairs landing groans again.

Dean’s head whips in that direction as he pushes off the door, just in time to see you take the first step. You’re wearing the black heeled boots you had on yesterday, but it’s paired with a strapless beige dress, the edges trimmed in black with a matching belt wrapped tight around the gentle curve of your waist.

Without thinking, Dean lets out a low, impressed whistle, ignoring the pounding in his chest as he stands up just a little straighter. 

Your hair is down, styled off to one side, with the most makeup Dean has seen you in so far; with full, dark lashes, pink cheeks, and bright red lips, which Dean can’t seem to look away from.

Something else is starting to stand a little straighter too.

Dean clears his throat, and offers out a hand as you get to the last step.

“Thanks,” you reply gently before you drop his hand and head for the coat rack.

“You look nice.” Dean’s now taking in the view of you from the back, leaving little to the imagination like those workout pants did a few weeks ago as the dress seemed to hug your body perfectly. 

Damn. And here mom thought you weren’t prepared. 

You spin on your heel, one arm shimming into your jacket sleeve, your eyes as bright at your smile.

“Thanks.” You repeat. “The dress is your mom’s.” You smirk.

Dean’s mouth drops open as his stomach falls.

“Please don’t tell me that.” Dean groans. The last thing he needs to think about is his mom in that dress. The same dress he was just checking out your ass in.

You just quietly chuckle as your other arm flails for your second sleeve, just missing the opening.

Without a word, Dean steps closer, grabbing your jacket for you and holding it steady so you can slip your arm into. Once it’s in, Dean raises your jacket just a bit before resting it on your shoulders. 

You turn back to him with a smile of thanks, which he can’t help but return.

“Ready?” 

“Sure am.” 

Dean opens the front door for you and you step outside into the bracing afternoon air.

“Have fun, kids!” Mary’s voice travels behind the two of you as Dean steps outside and closes the door behind him. 

You take gentle steps across the driveway, avoiding the few patches of ice that are still lingering. This gives Dean the opening he needs to step in front of you, getting to the passenger door of the Impala about three steps ahead of you.

Without a word, he pulls open the door.

“Wow, getting the full gentleman treatment today, huh.” Your cheek dimples with your half smile as you lower yourself into the passenger seat. Dean smiles down at you.

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.” You chuckle as Dean gently shuts the door before heading around to the driver’s seat and hopping in.

With one last check of the mirrors, Dean backs out of the driveway, and the two of you were off. 

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi, may I have a beery trifle with champagne, delivered by Phillip Graves please? Thanks!

the bakery menu!

the bakery is still open with lots of delicious treats still available on the menu!

berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + champagne (sugar daddy situation) and your server today will be phillip graves (call of duty!)

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, punishments (spanking) & rules, implied age gap, brat taming, naked woman/clothed man, couch sex, power dynamic

graves liked pretty things. he liked them young, dumb and full of cum. to toss some bills at their pretty faces and be on his way to the next pretty things.

but he liked you, he liked you a lot. normally he got tired of his toys and went in search of another one, but you stayed. you had even moved some of your things into his nice house in houston. mascara on the counter, body cream on the nightstand, you even had some of your favourite snacks in the cupboard.

you were almost wife material.

but he didn't want to get ahead of himself. you were still a fair bit younger than him. before he married you, he had to train the brat out of you. that was what he liked about you.

to an extent.

that was how you ended up in the position you were in.

it was sunny in july when you acted out, you and graves had gone into the city to do a little shopping. halfway through the trip you had gotten all pout-y because you didn't want to carry the shopping bags.

"if you buy them, darlin', you have to carry them." graves said as he pulled you towards him and kissed your cheek, "now stop poutin' or daddy is gonna be mad."

the pout never ceased, and soon after the whining started. now graves hated whiners, he didn't accept it with the shadows, he sure as hell wasn't going to accept it from a little girl who tasted like bubblegum.

he sighed and slung an arm around you. he tipped his sunglasses down, those beautiful eyes gazed at you. but his expression was stern, "behave."

you leaned up against him and said, "can you carry the bags?"

he shook his head, "i think i've been spoilin' you and little too much there, darlin'. i think it's time for a little bit of reform."

he thought that the idea of punishment would be enough to settle you down into the passive little kitten he knew you could be. but that wasn't the case, so something had to be done about it.

after you two got home, graves left the bags in the car and took you out of the car by your arm. you struggled to meet his stride. he was mumbling to himself about something as you felt a familiar twist in your gut. you reap what you sow, he once told you.

he didn't even get you into the bedroom, instead having you thrown onto the couch. as a result your pretty pink skirt got hiked up as you sat there like a girl about to be scolded.

graves could see your pretty striped panties under the skirt, but had to keep himself composed. he couldn't just crumble at the sight of your clothed pussy.

"do you know what you did?" he asked, giving you a chance to redeem yourself. he knew he couldn't stay mad at you forever, but he had to set you on a proper course. women your age had a habit of being bratty.

you shook your head, "i did nothing wrong, phillip."

he made a face, "wrong. try again. and if you call me phillip one more time, i'll be makin' you shine my boots with your tongue. now get naked before i cut it all off of you."

you pouted, "well, maybe if you helped me carry all those bags then maybe i wouldn't have been so pissy!" you crossed your arms.

graves raised his eyebrows at the sudden behaviour issues you having. he was a little impressed by the outburst, but it was a behaviour he had to correct. he grabbed you by the face and said, "strip. now. slut."

you slowly took off the t-shirt you wore, followed by the provocative pink skirt. you felt heat in your cheeks as you were left only in a pair of panties and bra. you looked up at graves' once more.

graves eyed you, "still the prettiest thing on the lot." he patted your cheek a little harder than most out, "now, get fully naked. i want to see those pretty tits and that soaked pussy."

you slipped off your undergarments and sat on the leather of the couch, the coolness of it felt odd against your bare pussy as you gazed up at graves like an innocent little deer. but graves couldn't be deceived by your innocent looks.

you were a girl who needed to be put on the right path.

graves grabbed you by the arm and got you over the back of the couch with your bottom half fully exposed to him. this is how graves liked you, bent over a surface and ready for him.

your naked body was for him to enjoy. you were his little slut. he took off his belt and got behind you. his cock was at a perfect level to sink in and properly fuck you.

you anticipated his cock, but instead you got his hand slamming down onto your bare ass cheek. you jolted, your heat in your stomach grew. graves dug his palm into where he slapped which only made the pain more intense. "daddy!"

"i know, darlin'. but i can't have you thinkin' you can misbehave. actions have consequences and you have rules. one of them is to not be a whiny little bitch when you don't get your way." he laid down another hard smack, then another and then another.

you gripped onto the back of the couch and flinched when his smacks came raining down. but graves used his other hand to pin you down onto the surface.

"stay still, or it's gonna hurt me." he groped your ass for a moment, letting you feel the pain before he went back to slapping. you were a mess by the time he was finished and his cock was painfully erect. it was drooling pre-cum all over the bottom of his white t-shirt.

your ass felt hot and a bit of a bruise was forming, hopefully that'll be a stark reminder of the rules of your agreement. you barely had time to think before graves sank his cock into you.

you gripped onto the couch tighter and whimpered, "daddy!"

he chuckled, "that's better. see, isn't like better when you're like this? when you're a pretty little thing for daddy to fuck? you can be a good girl, that's why daddy spoils you. you just needed a little guidance."

his pace was brutal, you could feel your insides being rearranged by the man's heavy cock inside of you. you panted heavily and held on tightly as graves' moved up into you.

"pretty girl."

"daddy."

"i know, just lay there all pretty for me." his voice was a low growl as he bucked up into you. he did adore you, even if you did misbehave at times.

you felt like a toy under his control, your heart fluttered at the feeling of his heavy cock inside of you. the sex was hot and left heat in your cheeks. the slapping sounds of you two fucking made you gasp.

his words were slurred and hot. he was so domineering that it made you flushed all over. your core throbbed and you felt closer to orgasm. you panted heavily between moans and felt a rush through you.

"please, daddy!" you panted, your cunt tightened around his cock. sweat down your back as you felt so close to orgasm. with a few more heavy thrusts, you came around his cock.

the tightness around his length took the breath out of him and his pace became more aggressive. his heart hammered in his chest as with a few more thrusts he finished inside of you. he painted your pretty pussy white with his cum as he slowed down his heavy thrusts.

he panted heavily. his polo shirt clung to his back as he felt the wind get taken out of him. he held onto you for a moment before he slid his softened cock out of your soaked pussy. he wiped the sweat from his forehead and said, "that's it, that's a good girl." then gave you a half-hearted slap across both ass cheeks, "now you be good, or daddy won't go so easy on your next time."

as if your ass cheeks were bruised, but instead you arched your back and whimpered, "yes, daddy. thank you, daddy."

graves loved the sound of that. his sweet girl.

[daceydeath]

Crashing Waves (Part 1)

Pairing: Pirate San x Reader Word Count: 5k Genre: Fantasy AU, Slow Burn Romance Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Alcohol

I thought that I knew love. But it was just the waves crashing over us ~ Waves by The Dear Hunter

You sat quietly on the dock watching the last of the dusk's light sink beneath the horizon, you often came to the ocean at night. You never really understood the sway it had over you but it gave you a sense of calm and peace to listen to it to watch the waves rise and fall the soft whispers it gave to you each time you were near it. Although you had been warned a hundred different times by your father and friends to stay away from the docks it was the only place you could go tonight, the king tide making it far too difficult to get to the small rocky cove you often visited. 

Come home child, come home to me.

The sailors and merchants all ignored you, having slipped out of your corset and hiding your hair beneath a hat you didn’t look like a lady of the night and there was no way you looked wealthy enough to bother so most, probably, assumed you were an urchin scrounging for anything you could to get by. There had been chaos within the town that day swelling and frothing like the seas during a storm which had left the streets empty and most of the ships with their gangways stowed to prevent anyone untoward coming aboard. Only one colossal ship that sat docked on the furthest berth away from the other vessels but again you didn’t really care you just made your way past it and sat with your feet dangling above the water your pants hiked up to your knees to prevent them getting wet.

Earlier you had been sitting in the tavern listening to your friends prattle on about pirates stealing women away to sell to foreign lands or taking them as prizes to spend the rest of their lives at sea but you were yet to hear a single shred of actual evidence of this. Pirates, mercenaries and soldiers were often the same thing; it just depended on who was paying them. If they worked for themselves they were pirates, if they could be bought they were mercenaries and if they could become loyal they were soldiers. The line between was pretty damn thin in your mind. Each drink had made you more uninterested in their stories and increased the longing you felt to be alone so while they continued to dance and drink you slipped away to find solitude beside the waves of the highest tide this year.

“What are you doing here?” a stern voice asked from behind you making you jump slightly then frown deeply in disappointment.

“I’m watching the waves” you replied honestly annoyance clear in your voice, not even looking back at the man who had interrupted your peace.

“Sounds like a ruse to spy on us” he muttered bitterly, his footfalls getting closer to you, his boots clunking against each of the old boards that had been worn smooth with time and salt as he moved.

“I don’t know or care who you are sir, please just leave me alone” you continued, turning your body to sit against one of the large dock posts so you could see both him and the ocean. His face was still half in shadow but you could tell he was someone important. The gold chain that hung across his chest and the glittering rings on his fingers showed wealth but the sword on his belt warned of potential danger.

“Then why are you so close to my ship?” he demanded coldly, his scrutiny obvious as the waves began picking up and started to bob his ship slightly in its mooring, the breeze fluttering the sails on the boats docked.

“Because your ship is docked where I sit, you decided that not me” already being tired from a long day and probably one too many drinks. You had little emotional strength left to even pretend you care if he was offended or angry. His presence was irritating you when he could have just ignored you. He remained silent studying you as you turned back to the sea watching the waves even out once more. 

“You're not curious who I am? Not afraid of me either?” he queried, seeming perplexed about his whole encounter with you, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword although you still didn’t flinch.

“No, I’m not” you admitted quietly, closing your eyes and leaning your head back against the old wooden post. After a few more minutes of nothingness he left presumably to his ship which loomed between you and the shore blocking the view of the town you lived in. Once the darkness finally fell you stood and wandered back towards your family’s home fully aware that a different man was following you, his feet moving almost silently as he remained shrouded in shadow everytime you passed by a street lamp that bathed the ground with an eerie amber gold light. 

“I know you are there” you breathed stepping into a dim alleyway beside the apothecary. You heard the steps pause and then a quiet sigh as he stepped into the dim light only a few feet from you “Did your friend ask you to follow me?”.

“He didn’t understand why you didn’t care about the danger you were in, or whether you did and you really are a spy” he replied in his musical voice the only thing you could discern since he was covered head to toe in black, his raised hood covering most of his face. 

“He’s either paranoid or he thinks that your reputation precedes you so much that a small town woman knows who you are” you challenged leaning against the dirty bricks as you accepted that perhaps you should have listened to just about everyone and not visited the docks.

“Did you not see the logo on our ship? Do you not know what it means?” He asked a touch softer as if he suddenly noticed how you were dressed and how you looked he stepped forward and you realized how tall he was, although his lithe frame made him seem young.

“I saw it but I don’t know it” you admitted tilting your head “my family work on land we don’t know anything about pirates”.

“How do you know we are pirates then?” he asked but you could hear the smile that was likely gracing his face. 

“Big ship, paranoid captain who wears expensive looking jewels, tall assassin looking man who follows his orders. Do I need to keep listing things off?” you smiled right back daring him to deny any of the things you mentioned.

“Alright you are clever I’ll give you that. Why do you spend time at the docks if you work in the town?” He pressed lowering his hood to allow you to see him. Even in the low light you couldn’t help the way your eyes widened. He was beautiful, longish dark hair framed his sharp featured face like a gilded frame making it almost impossible to look away from.

“The ocean has always called to me, I sit beside it every night it calms me especially when I have a little too much to drink” you whispered, still staring at him unashamedly you could see the cogs turning in his head deciding how he would proceed with you.

“I’m Seonghwa” he bowed his head respectfully, seeming pleased that you were so openly staring at him.

“Well Seonghwa nice to meet you” you offered your hand for him to shake noticing the grace with which he moved.

“Come by the ship tomorrow before noon I want to show you something” his eyes twinkled as he smirked at you before turning away and disappearing from sight. Still dazed from meeting Seonghwa, you continued home knowing that he was no longer following you.

“Why would I want to do that?” you mused thinking that he was already gone disappeating into the inky darkness.

“Because now you’re curious” he laughed softly his voice fainter than before.

“Fucking cloak and dagger bullshit” you muttered stepping back out of the allyway and into the street to continue towards home.

“So was she spying?” Wooyoung nonchalantly asked his feet up on one of the chairs in the galley.

“Nope she’s just a normal girl” Seonghwa chuckled watching Hongjoong frown deeply “Had one drink too many and needed some air”.

“She can’t be just a ‘normal girl” Hwa, when I spoke to her she got annoyed and the waves started when I left her alone and she calmed down. The waves stopped, that isn’t normal” Hongjoong insisted irritation in his tone.

“True but either way she wasn’t spying” Hwa smiled crookedly before moving towards the doorway “Oh I invited her to the ship tomorrow so you could always ask her yourself”.

“Who’s coming tomorrow?” San piped up entering the galley from the other end plopping himself down beside Wooyoung to begin eating.

“Mystery girl” Wooyoung cackled, watching as Hongjoong’s frown intensified, staring at the place the Seonghwa had just been filling.

“I don’t get what’s so special about her” Mingi mumbled from the spot he had been sitting in watching the discussion before him.

“Hongjoong thinks she's one of those sea imps but she can’t be, she lives on land” Yeosang whispered back in between mouthfuls of dinner.

“Dipshits” Hongjoong rolled his eyes stabbing at his food viciously.

“Were you at the docks?” your roommate Mara narrowed her eyes at you looking you over for filth or injury.

“No, I went to the cliffs above the cove. The tide was too high tonight to get down to the rocks” you lied shamelessly ripping the bread she had saved for you into pieces before popping it in your mouth.

“Well you still smell like salt” you nodded slowly going back to the book she had been reading her eyes skimming the rest of the page in silence.

“I have smelt of worse things. I heard there were pirates that docked today” you started your words half garbled by the bread filling your mouth “The whole tavern was talking about them”.

“That’s why I told you to stay away from the docks” Mara sighed defeated before looking over at you unimpressed. “You never pay attention to anything do you? There was a notice put up just about everywhere that there were pirates seen just past the headland and they were probably headed here and you didn’t even see them did you?”.

“Sorry Mara” you bowed your head unwittingly, annoying her by just being yourself again, you couldn’t help that you didn’t pay attention to every stupid thing that happened in town.

“Finish your bread and go to sleep” she grumbled putting down her book and turning out the lamps.

When you woke up, Mara was already gone, probably having left for the market for work. It gave you a chance to clean up and change before venturing to the docks to see if Seonghwa had meant what he had said about showing you something. Donning a simple pair of dark jeans and a green tunic you slipped from the house unnoticed, taking only an apple, some bread and some biscuits to last you until you could return home again. You wanted to take your bicycle to make the trip quicker but you knew that would lead to you being recognized and you didn’t want to be stopped. You were too curious about this thing that the beautiful Seonghwa wanted to show you even if you were unsure you could trust him.

It was close to noon by the time you slipped yourself through the docks and approached the ship, the ostentatious decorations on the hull making it much more noticeable in the daylight, the solid brass and copper engines that sat just above water level were something you had never seen before and the gigantic red A that was stitched into each sail and painted on the hull gave little doubt of the owners intentions. Walking up the gangway you stopped one step before you would be considered onboard the ship waiting until one of the men on the deck noticed you.

“Uh who are you?” a pretty man who looked far too etherial to be a pirate asked you his broom halting mid sweep when he saw you.

“Where did you even come from?” a broad man with a striking face asked moving to step in front of his shipmate waiting to see what you would say his hand hovering near his waist.

“Seonghwa asked me to come” you smiled nervously looking at him. He looked like he could intimidate anyone he chose to but there was something in his actions that made you feel safe instead of fear.

“Ah you came!, welcome to my home, well our home” Seonghwa’s sothing honey laughter made itself known before he gracefully stepped into view.

“Hello again Seonghwa” you bowed your head but didn’t move. You knew you had to be expressly invited in before you assumed anything with pirates; it was only polite.

“Come I will give you the tour” he beckoned you onto the boat which you gingerly stepped onto the once moving vessel now standing completely still which made the two crew members look at each other subtly, something crossing between them that you didn’t understand.

“Lead the way then” you stepped towards him as he moved back through the darkened doorway into the belly on the ship.

“They were Yeosang and San. The others we will probably find along the way” he hummed showing you the galley, the armory and the crew quarters finally walking you past the cannons on your way towards what you could only assume was the captain's quarters.

“So should I assume that what you wanted to show me is probably the captain” you mused looking at a cannon with interest. The gleam of the silver barrels showing that they had seen little action.

“Yes and no” Seonghwa conceded with a sly smile tugging on his lips.

“Shall we get this over with I’m getting hungry and I left my lunch on the dock” you sigh knowing that although it is unlikely a trap you will probably have to talk to the annoying man again.

“Captain” Seonghwa knocked sharply on the door to the quarters waiting for a sign to enter.

“Come” a loud voice called letting you know that it probably was the same man from the night before. 

“This is the one I was talking about” Seonghwa announced, swinging open the door and carefully pushing you through the opening, stepping in behind you and almost blocking your exit. Despite the large windows the room remained dim, large heavy curtains blocking out most of the light that was trying to illuminate the room. Three men occupied the space, a tall man who looked you over with slight confusion, a serious looking man with floppy dark hair and a smaller man who you recognized as being the jerk from the dock the night before. He sat at the desk, his hands holding a large looking glass and a necklace which he had been by the looks of it appraising, because pirates you guessed.

“Hwa said you aren’t a spy” he started placing the necklace down on the dark wooden table.

“I told you that already” you interrupted tilting your head and narrowing your eyes at him. “Last night when you interrupted me”.

“He also tells me you are brazen, stubborn and headstrong but that the sea calls to you” he continued unfazed by your words.

“Well he must be quite the spy himself if he gleaned all that from one conversation and followed me most of the way home” you conceded, shrugging indifferently as you looked around the room. A large bed sat against the windows, its canopy made up of more dark heavy fabric that probably helped to muffle the sound of the waves at night, papers and books littered all the other flat surfaces and large paintings of sea creatures covered the walls. One painting on the wall lit up with its own lamp caught your attention, not just for the overly ornate gilt frame but because it was something you were sure you had seen before perhaps in a dream or in a book. It was of a woman, her face hidden in her reddish hair in a simple white gown that had been painted as though she was simply suspended underwater.

“He should have said infuriating” the captain clapped back bringing your attention to him once more.

“You haven’t even introduced yourself why would I owe you anything more than what I am giving you, Seonghwa at least has manners” you mutter looking up at the large ornate ceiling that is decorated with vivid images of sea monsters. A kraken looming ominously above the desk.

“I’m Captain Hongjoong, this is my navigator navigator Jongho and my medic Yunho” he nodded to the two men in turn “I apologize for my poor manners would you grant me the grace to start the conversation again” his voice was resigned but held an air of annoyance. 

 "Do you like my ship?" he asked, tilting his head as he scrutinized you for the second time in 24 hours.

"She's very impressive, but I still do understand why I'm here Captain Hongjoong" you tilted your head in return not letting your eyes drop from his.

"Seonghwa says you are called to be the sea, is that true?" he continued narrowing his eyes slightly, the others who you had seen and a couple who you hadn't had managed to all make their way into the room sitting or leaning in various places but all looking at you. You stood silently mirroring his posture unconsciously as you weighed up your answer.

"Has this got anything to do with that?" you pointed your thumb in the direction of one of the paintings hung on the wall with scraps of paper pinned around it. "Because I find peace by the ocean but I am no sea nymph".

Hongjoong glared at the painting on the wall, not answering you immediately. The silence strained and became more intense as the seconds passed by. His crew looked almost nervous as they looked between each other and then back to their captain.

"But yes the sea calls to me" you added quietly, making Hongjoong's eyes widen as they snapped back to your face, the frustration in his expression melting away to reveal a look of awe.

"What does it say?" he breathed almost inaudibly.

"Home" you murmured, feeling Seonghwa's hand find your back as you swayed slightly, the ship beginning to rock beneath your feet.

"We will not hurt you" Hongjoong instantly stood his chair scraping noisily against the wooden floor "No one on this ship would ever cause you harm you have my word I know it must be telling you otherwise".

Danger child, he is a danger

"Why would you ever harm me? I'm no one, not even worth a ransom" you looked up again meeting his eyes, your head suddenly swimming like you had been drinking absinthe again. The words circling your brain continuously. "How do you know what she says?".

"Hwa" Hongjoong yelled but you had closed your eyes, or maybe the lights had gone out but either way you felt something hard and warm crash into your front before your face hit the floor. The room was not only spinning but raising and falling the sensation making your queasy.

"Thanks San" Seonghwa's faint voice echoed in your head before you could no longer hear.

"The fuck just happened? Is she dead?" Mingi blurted, looking bewildered as San scooped you into his arms and moved you towards the captain's bed as carefully as he could as the ship rocked violently.

"Does she need a doctor or do you think you can manage?" San whispered to Yunho who was already checking your pulse in your wrist.

"She's breathing and her heart rate is normal, if she doesn't wake up in an hour maybe" Yunho hummed, placing the back of his hand on your forehead "Can someone bring me some water?". Jongho dashed from the room as quickly as he could trying not to trip on anything that had fallen from the captain's desk as the sound of books falling to the floor thudded behind him.

"I can't be the only one confused about her knowledge of the painting though right? You said that it was a one off original, that it was incredibly unknown which is why it had to be stolen" Wooyoung sounding more hysterical than he probably wanted to. "How would she know about it! and why is it so fucking rough right now?".

"She could be mistaken but she knew it was about sea nymphs" Yeonsang added, squeezing Wooyoung's shoulder to keep him calm while pressing themselves against the wall so they had something to hold onto while the turbulent movements of the ship unsteadied them.

"The diary said it had been hidden for more than 150 years, that no one had laid eyes on it in almost 100 of those years. She looks like she's not even 25". Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows confused by the whole thing, the swinging overhead lamp throwing bazaar flashes of light over them all.

"She's going to wake up in a second stop being so loud" Hongjoong grunted holding the edge of his desk knowing that the rest of the ship would probably be a complete mess from the short burst of waves.

"There you are" San smiled softly, his eyes creasing up as your eyes fluttered open.

"You had us worried for a second there" Yunho joked, his voice soft as he placed a wet cloth against your forehead Jongho still holding the bowl of water so it wouldn't spill everywhere.

"I'm sorry?" you mumbled your voice sounding far away even to your own ears.

Safe keep you safe

"You fainted" Yunho smiled, his voice still soft as he continued pressing the cloth against your skin he watched your breathing for a moment before dipping the cloth back in the water "Can you sit up or would you rather roll on your side? I need to put this on the back of your neck".

"Are you a doctor?" you blinked slowly trying to lift yourself from the soft thing you were laying on "Did I hurt anything when I fell?".

"San caught you so no you have no injuries" Yunho nodded to San who took hold of each of your wrists slowly pulling you into a sitting position while Yunho placed the cloth on your neck.

"Thank you San" you murmured weakly, noticing a pink flush dust his cheekbones.

"What happened? Did you hear anything before you fainted?" Hongjoong asked from his desk where he remained leaning against the shiny dark wood. You continued blinking slowly, registering that you were lying on his bed in the same room as they were all in with you moments ago.

"That's none of your business" you swallowed shakily, turning to look back at San who looked openly worried at the way your arms trembled in his hands. "I would like to go home now".

"Not until we know you won't faint the moment you stand up" Yunho soothed wetting the cloth again "can you hold this against your chest please? I can close the curtain so no one can see you".

"Please" you whimpered watching San lean across to pull on the fabric for Yunho.

"Do you want me to leave?" San whispered his voice was soft watching you fumble with the lacing at the top of your tunic.

"No it's alright" you half smiled, feeling your face heat up as Yunho moved your hands away, his long fingers deftly untying the knot and loosening them enough to slip the cloth under without exposing you.

"I need to get off this ship" you mumbled meekly looking up at Yunho then to San tears beginning to prick at your eyes.

"I will carry you off myself if I have to" San continued whispering to make sure only you heard him. "But you need to feel less overheated and look less pale first".

"Woo, can you get me some candy? Sweets might help her feel better" Yunho called through the thick dark burgundy fabric causing shuffling and noise to erupt on the other side after another few minutes of silence a hand thrust through the fabric holding a bag of what looked like marshmallows.

"Eat a few please, the sugar should help" Yunho hummed.

"Thank you mystery candy baring hand" you called hearing a loud bark of laughter follow your words. After half a dozen marshmallows Yunho placed his hand back against your forehead nodding to San who pulled open the curtains for you.

"Try standing slowly" Yunho instructed, standing in front of you as San remained behind you. Your legs felt a little shaky but nothing too bad as you placed your weight on them bouncing on your toes softly. "Good I think you will be alright now".

"Thank you for your help Yunho" you smiled, relieved that you would be able to get as far away from their captain as you could.

"I'll take you back up to the deck if you want" San looked hopeful as you turned your head to look at him.

Safe be safe

"Please San" you murmured ignoring the others as questions started being thrown in your direction.

"Will you come again?" Seonghwa's honey voice poured into your ear.

"I don't know" you looked at him keeping your voice as level as you could "I was nice to meet you all".

San led you towards the deck with Yunho following you both just to be safe as you slowly descended the gangway you felt a surge of relief come over you like water pouring from a bucket over your head. Picking up your pack which you had stowed behind some creates you fished out your apple biting into it before looking back up at the ship. San and Yunho were still there although now the others had joined them looking almost ominous as their silhouettes stood tall against the light behind them. Nodding once you walked back along the dock the salty air blowing your messy hair around you.

"Well that went shockingly bad" Seonghwa sighed leaning against the railing as they watched you disappear between the other ships.

"Oh yeah the only thing that would have been worse was if we kidnapped her" Mingi rolled his eyes.

"She will never set foot here again" Jongho laughed, nudging San who looked slightly confused.

"I've never seen you that soft before what happened?" Wooyoung quizzed rounding on San who just shrugged before leaving to return to his cabin knowing damn well it would be a mess from earlier.

"You had to see that the waves came and went depending on her though right?" Hongjoong insisted.

"Yeah but I don't think it will be easy to convince her to come with us. She seems desperate to be away from us, well some of us" Seonghwa conceded watching San's retreating figure.

"Well we will just have to convince her then" Wooyoung bounced cheekily smirking at them before scampering away after San.

You decided on the walk back you would stop into the apocathary to see if Salvia had anything that could quell the unease that you were still feeling. The bell rang loudly as you stepped inside the calming scent of dried herbs and lavendar filling your lungs as you walked towards the counter.

“Via?” you called stepping around the counter and towards the back room. “It’s me”.

“Little possum what are you doing here? You aren’t working today” Salvia blinked looking at you through the steam of the large pot she was boiling.

“I know, I’m just feeling really weird so I wanted something to make it go away” you continued peering into the large brass pot to find an interesting combination of plants and muslin bags tied with string.

“Hair tonic” Via explained as she stepped towards you her hand outstretched to feel your face “What are your symptoms?”.

“I feel nervous, queasy, and hot” you listed as she scrutinised you “Oh and my legs have been shaking like I’ve been running for hours.

“Hmmmm” Salvia hummed looking puzzled for a moment before going over to one of her store cupboards and pulling out a box marked with large red letters. “Take two bags in a cup of tea now, then before bed. It’s probably your moon time that’s causing it”.

“But I’m not having that right now” you swallowed as she bustled to the stove to lace the kettle on the heat and get you a mug.

“No but it will probably start soon and this is common before it in a lot of women” she smiled softly picking up the teabags and placing two in a bag for you and two in the waiting mug.

“You are a life saver Via” you smiled crookedly “You should put that on the sign Salvia the Savior”.

“That might get us more customers” he nodded sagely before pouting the water from the now whistling kettle into you cup to let it seep. 

“So what’s with the pirates at the dock?” you asked as casually as you could “That ship is gigantic”.

“I would steer clear of the docks for the time being” Salvia warned seriously “That crew is infamous for their cruelty and violence”.

“Hold on why would pirates like that be in our town?” you frowned “what could they want with anyone here?”.

“Could be just suppliess, could be looking for a place it hide. It’s not important. They are murderers for hire who have no humanity” Salvia almost spat as she glared at the brewing tonic.

“It’s alright Via, I’m not planning to run away with the pirates I just didn’t even know they were there until I saw the massiv ship” you blurted quickly hoping that she would calm back down and let you finish your tea without a full lecture.

“I know you’re a good girl” Salvia conceeded smiling at you in a very motherly fashion “now take your tea and I’ll see you tomorrow”.

a/n: Thank you for reading my lovelies. I have recently struggled to find any motivation to write and it has been hard but hopefully after Christmas and a proper rest period I will be back to my normal self. As always your likes, reblogs, comments and encouragement mean so much to me xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar

@tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie @krishastumblernow @mrsseals16 @fawnpeaks

@leeknowinggg @tanzen-ist-gold @uno7 @ocean-dreamer-sky-chaser @skersey33

[urhoneycombwitch]

howdy, honey!

part I

older!cowboy!Eddie x honey!reader

foreword: idk what this is. other than the start of a new series I may or may not have time for lmao. just… love the idea of honey!Reader and wanted to show the origins of cowboy!Eddie into their life <3 honey!Reader is a bit of an abrasive spitfire but I heart complicated women and Eddie is the right amount of gruff to put up w/ that bratty ass <3 I’m sorry if any truck stuff is wrong I swear I researched a bit but dear god I am not a car girly plz forgive me

cw: Appalachian no magic AU, cowboy!Eddie, older!Eddie, age gap (Eddie is at least 40, R implied as younger), R is on the run from a Troubled Past ™, R has breasts (non-sexual mention) and a tattoo (no skin tone/color mentioned), smut planned for following chapters, as always +18 mdni!

wc: 5.3k

The last thing you want to hear behind you approaches: a vehicle slowing down, tires crunching to crawl at your walking pace in the gravel ditch of the road. 

Maybe it’s just a concerned citizen. You soothe yourself internally, even as your guard surges up to take stock of the environment, to calculate the quickest route to safety. 

To your left- a rusting red pickup, its unknown driver, the flat expanse of tarmac and heat lines rising blearily for miles on end.

To your right, just a sprint away- the line of a lush, thick forest, unfamiliar birds calling amidst the Appalachian wilderness.

Then, an even worse sound of the truck's window being rolled down. 

“Not interested, pal,” you call out, in a tone you hope is commanding. “My thumb ain’t out. Keep driving.”

“I just-” it’s a man’s voice, because of course it is, who else would stop in the middle of an abandoned road to harass a young thing like you- “It’s about a hundred degrees out. Hotter than a two-buck pistol and you’re hiking in it.”

“Mind your damn business.” You don’t know this guy’s angle, but you don’t really care- if there’s anything you’ve learned from the past two weeks on the road, it’s Don’t trust strange men and keep your wits. 

Heart thumping an unsteady rhythm, you swallow the fear and hike your duffle bag higher onto your aching shoulder, resolute, even as the guy sighs. As if he has the right to sound weary. “Darlin’. I don’t wanna see you die of dehydration, is all. Got some water in the back, ‘least let me offload some onto you.”

The offer is tempting enough to still your steps- your canteen is empty, ran out about an hour after being filled at the last town’s hostel. Constant thirst has been an unfortunate side effect of this journey; so far it seems you've been the only one desperate enough to actually be outside in this unrelenting heat.

The man must take your pause for acceptance because he rolls to a stop just ahead of you, brake lights giving one quick flash before the engine cuts out. Both boots hit pavement at the same time, revealing a tall, lanky figure in dark denim and a cut-off tee. 

As he rounds to the trailer bed, you notice a smattering of tattoos- bats flying up one arm, a lariat and a floral piece on the other, some sort of mythological creature sitting over his heart (only spotted as he bends to unhook his truck bed’s latch, shirt shifting forward to reveal a pale expanse of skin beneath).

He’s a confusing, delightful mix of punk and cowboy- jeans just a touch too tight for working, silver hoops lining the shell of his right ear. You’d probably get a better sense of his age if his hair wasn’t hiding in a bun too shadowy to see properly, nestled under the brim of his black cowboy hat.

Eyes dark as bittersweet chocolate but kind and calm turn towards you, observing silently with crossed arms in the ditch a yard away. He closes the gap, wiping his palm on the black bandanna lining his pocket before stretching an appeasing hand towards you. “Waterin’ time.”

A laugh would signal comfortability, and you prefer to keep your cards as close to your own chest as possible, so you smother the noise, turn it into a disapproving twist of your mouth before taking his proffered hand. 

He’s stronger than he looks, pulling you up to the road with an easy flex of his forearm; his other hand automatically fits to your low back to steady you as your pack shifts with the climb, but he drops all points of contact as soon as you’re stabilized.

There’s a thunk from the nearby truck, the sound of something dull hitting into the metal. On instinct, your hand snaps to the butterfly knife tucked into the front of your bra band, hidden by the extra padding but close enough to whip out at a moment's notice. 

A dog sits eager and obedient in the truck bed, black and leggy and long-snouted- some type of Shepherd, if you had to guess. His long feathered tail hits the wheel with each enthusiastic wag, oversized ears perked forward.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. 

Adrenaline leaves you feeling sticky and strung-out, even more than the heat. Between your breasts, the knife sits waiting, metal cool to the touch and reassuring through the fabric of your tanktop. You hope it just looks like you scare easily, hand over your heart with nerves and jumpiness instead of trained defense mode- cards to chest, and all that. 

Safer for you, to be underestimated. Always harder to see a hit coming from someone unexpected. 

This time, though, you aren’t fixing to hit. The back of your hand, like some gravitational force, draws you to the mouth of the truck bed. 

A slash of pink tongue splits the all-black dog’s mouth when he licks you, thumping tailbeat picking up speed. 

The man who owns both truck and dog leans a hip against the wheel, watching as you smooth your palm over the silky head of his companion. “Name’s Goblin.”

“So, your parents were hippies, I gather?” A joke slips out before you can catch and wrestle it back to be the most unassuming version of yourself.

The man laughs- full and rich, crow’s feet bursting like sunbeams, dimples springing into his cheeks- the action knocks a decade off his face. 

You’re transfixed, unable to look away, Goblin nudging your hand for more pets while you memorize the way this stranger looks, laughing on the side of the road in the middle of goddamn nowhere. 

“The dog is Goblin,” the man says, humor twitching at the corners of his plush lips. He takes off his hat to rest against his chest, chocolate eyes still twinkling. “I’m Eddie.”

In the truck bed next to Goblin, there’s a bulky case laying sideways, a handle on one end for carrying. It’s the last push you need, apparently, as the logic part of your mind speaks with finality: Ted Bundy never played guitar. 

So you give Eddie your name. Your real one. You haven’t used it in weeks, opting for anonymity and the comfort of a pseudonym at the seedy spots you’ve been staying.

As soon as you say it, something loosens in your chest, flutters free into the bright blue sky as Eddie repeats it like something precious- like he’s known you for ages. 

“Well.” As if a matter has been settled, Eddie puts his hat back on (you weren’t quite done memorizing the long pattern of his curls, shot through with grey, pulled taut against his skull to settle in a bun at the nape of his neck). “More’n welcome to take the water and send me packin’, but now that we all know each other’s names, how about a lift to town?”

Eddie scratches Goblin behind the ear, absentminded as he adds, “Could even sit in the back, ‘f you wanted. That way you could just jump on out if you think I’m tryna pull something.”

Your shoulder suddenly aches with the weight of your duffel; you let the straps slide to the crook of your elbow, then set it next to Goblin who seems happy for something new to sniff.

Unfortunately for Eddie, you’re starting to like him, which means the filter for your sarcasm and teasing has completely eroded. “Ri-ight. Like I’m gonna just sit in the back of your truck when you could floor it and fling me over the side like a ragdoll.” 

Those big, doey eyes of Eddie’s roll skyward. “You always this stubborn?”

“Only on days that end in Y.” 

“All right.” There’s something in his tone that makes your spine straighten- not from fear, just… something else that you’re trying hard not to analyze right now. “So sit in the damn front and put a seatbelt on, since you’re so worried ‘bout my driving.”

Eddie shuts the pickup’s gate and mutters all the way to the driver’s side door, some comparison being drawn between you and one of his cows that gets herself stuck in the fenceline, refusing sesnsible help. 

The air in the cab is stale and still, warmth from the cracked leather seats soaking into the back of your shorts and bare thighs as you get in and buckle up. You’re suddenly aware of how desperately you need a shower, being in an enclosed space and next to someone with (presumably) a working sense of smell, but luckily Eddie’s already rolling down the windows.

“Air’s broke,” he says by way of apology, waving in the general direction of the AC vents before reaching to open the sliding rear window.

Something cold and wet presses against your ear- Goblin, saying hello. By the time your giggle is over, the grumble of the engine has kicked on, and the dog has found a headrest in the form of your pack, his tongue lolling into the fabric with rhythmic panting. 

“Radio?” You ask, already reaching to twist at the knob on the dash- a crackle of static, and then, bliss. Johnny Cash croons from the speakers. 

In trying to keep your delight casual, you slip up, telling Eddie as he straightens out the wheel to pick up speed- “God, I haven’t heard music this good in months, not since-”

Fortunately, whatever system in your brain still holding on to good sense chops the sentence in half. To cover, you clear your throat, cross your arms, and keep your eyes fixed forward when you change the subject. “So, you play guitar?”

If Eddie notices your lapse he doesn’t comment on it, picking up conversation with an easy charm. “Nah. That’s just a cover for if Sheriff Hop gets me for speedin’. That case is filled with coke and guns and all sorts’a contraband.”

You fix the side of his head with a glare, and even without seeing it full-on Eddie sputters a chuckle and admits, “Fine. I play guitar, sometimes.”

While Eddie’s eyes stay on on the road ahead, you let your own gaze linger on his face in profile: the slope of his nose, the freckles that scatter across the apple of his cheeks and neck, the tail end of another tattoo winding up his collarbone.

Eddie catches you staring, this time, jolt like an electric shock coursing through your whole body when you lock eyes for a moment, before he flicks back to the road. “Looks like you got some ink, yourself.”

He must be doing his best to remain respectful, because he doesn’t ask what the J stands for, even as your other hand jumps instinctually to cover the breadth of your wrist, hiding the little inked letter from view. “Yeah. I get one every time I kill a man. In remembrance.”

Amusement twitches at the corner of Eddie’s mouth when he asks, “Yeah? Only one so far? Would’a thought you’d be racking up your letters by now. Fierce as you are.”

“Well, we’re in public. I can’t very well take off my shirt to show you all the rest.”

This earns you another laugh, and even with the wind whipping through the cab, it fills every inch of the space. Rattles into you like a thunderstorm, knocks dust off some deep part of you kept dormant ‘til now.

You like that he called you that. Fierce. You’re loath to admit it, but you also like the pet names. Most boys are condescending or double-edged with their diminutives, but when Eddie calls you darlin’ with that Southern drawl, it feels… endearing. 

Equal parts terrifyingly disarming and captivatingly charming. That’s how you’d categorize Eddie, so far, though you’re not sure what to file away about his arms- stretched out at ten and two on the Ford’s big wheel, soft white underbelly of his forearms fading into a natural freckled tan, smattering of dark hair over both. 

For now, you file it under Trouble and focus on the upcoming road sign.

It looks like someone stripped a big tree and cut out a thick middle piece just to drive it at a slant into the ground. The hand-carved words appear to have been painted over many times, discolored and weathered, obscuring some of the letters.

WELC ME TO C LINE

”It’s a nice town, Celine,” Eddie says conversationally as the sign gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. “Small, but good community. Lots of farming folks, like me, some strays and stragglers, like you.”

Johnny Cash gives way to an unfamiliar folksy number; you drink in the ramshackle buildings that make up the heart of the town. It’s reminiscent of old cowboy movies you grew up watching with your brothers- flat roofs, red brick, clapboard. A hitching post outside of a General Store, a group of kids tearing around on bikes in the empty lot of the movie theater. 

All that’s missing is a lone tumbleweed flipping lazily end over end across the road.

Eddie pulls his truck parallel with a stretch of curb outside a long building, another handmade sign that reads Celine Public Library. He leaves the engine running but shifts the gear to park, pointing to the phone booth just beyond your window.

“Phone’s just there, if you got someone to call. Figure’d here’s as good a place as any, if you wanna part ways now.”

Oh, right. Eddie offered you a ride to town, and he made good on it. Now is the part where you get out, collect your duffel, and wave while pretending to make a phone call until his truck has disappeared.

But you don’t. There’s lively guitar plucking over the speakers, twining with the purr of the engine. Eddie’s hands flex and unflex on the wheel, horseshoe tattoo on the first segment of his middle finger rippling with the movement like he’s working up the courage to say something,

You’d better not stick around to hear it. Fighting the thing that’s sticking you to the seat, you reach for the door handle. “Well, thanks, Eddie. ‘Preciate the lift.”

Your fingers are just grazing the handle when Eddie speaks again. “Wait-”

Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Don’t-

His eyes are just as beautiful as before, when he’d laughed- and now they’re on you, longing and hopeful and a little unsure as he speaks, gaining speed as if from nerves- “I’ve got a spare room. Spare shack, technically- it’s not much, but I used to live in there real comfortably ‘til my uncle moved and I got the house. Please come stay, at least for the night. Please?”

With a hand still on the door to your other, safer option, you pause; though the main emotion that washes through you is one of relief and gratitude, you sink your teeth into the little flare of irritation, pulling it up to the surface like one last play. “I don’t want charity.”

”Do I look like the church-goin’ type?” A bright flash of Eddie’s teeth as he grins (he knows he’s got you, goddammit). “And the shack door locks from the inside. Deadbolt. In case you’re worried about… I’m not askin’ anything from you. Just- please.”

Your hand drops from the door, falls limply into your lap as you breathe out. “And you’re not in some… weird, cowpoke-Satanic cult where you’re gonna use me as human sacrifice?”

“What part of deadbolt do you not get,” Eddie retorts, pleased, hand at the gear shift. “And my cult only meets on the full moon, so. You’ve got a few weeks of safety, at least.”

A genuine laugh bubbles up out of you, and the smile that Eddie fixes you with would’ve knocked you sideways had you been standing. 

You’re both relishing in the moment too deeply to notice the bicycles approaching from behind; Goblin gives an excited yip, front paws planted on the lip of the truck, wagging up a storm as the group squeals to a halt, surrounding you and Eddie on all sides. 

One of the kids, a boy with a curly mop of hair who looks on the young end of 15, slams a hand down on Eddie’s open window. “Hey!”

Eddie is the one to nearly jump out of his skin this time, hand flying to the top of his hat and cursing. “Fuck. Christ, Henderson. Whaddya want?”

“Do you require our assistance at the market this weekend?” The kid speaks in a funny, oddly formal tone as Eddie sighs and sets his hat on the seat between the two of you. 

“Unfortunately so.” 

“C’mon, Eddie, don’t be like that.” The boy is practically leaning through the window at this point with eagerness, one foot on the ground to keep his bike from tipping. You smother a giggle at the way Eddie’s jaw ticks. “School’s out, we’re bored as hell, and-”

He stops mid sentence when he spies you in the passenger seat, eyebrows jumping up to the curls covering his forehead. “And who might this be?”

“None of your damn business,” Eddie grits out, but you ignore the all-bark-no-bite tone to stretch across and offer your hand in introduction.

“I’m Dustin,” the boy says, in answer to your own name, and rapid-fire points at the various figures loitering around the truck, naming his friends too quickly for you to store them long-term. “Now, Edward, about our payment…”

There’s a girl with red braids near your window, the only one not on a bike. When you give her a friendly smile, she glowers and plants a sneakered foot on her skateboard, rocking it aimlessly up and down the asphalt. 

In the back, Goblin is basking in the attention of the rest of the group; another boy with a close-cropped Afro rubs the dog’s head lovingly, while a girl with serious brown eyes and shoulder-length curls (Eddie’s relative, maybe?) makes tentative strokes down Goblin’s side. 

There are two other kids- boys, you think- near the back of the trailer, but their backs are to the group, close as two people can be while still on their own bikes. Dustin’s conversation floats back into your comprehension- he’s making a valiant attempt at twisting Eddie’s arm where ‘payment’ is concerned.

Untwistable, Eddie shakes his head. A few strands of hair have come loose from his bun, curling around his jaw with the overdramatic move he makes to throw the gear shift into drive. “All right, enough, ya scoundrel. Round up your crew and go be a pain in someone else’s ass.”

Unperturbed, Dustin straightens, grasping his bike’s handlebars with one hand and wrapping a tight fist around the metal of the truck’s side mirror. 

This seems to be some sort of signal, because the rest of the group latches on like some choreographed play- hands, one from each kid, coming up to grip at any free space left on the truck, shoulders hunching forward as if preparing to be shot forth like a rubber band. 

“Damn kids,” Eddie grumbles, but you can hear the fondness in his voice as he lifts his foot from the brake.

The truck lurches forward, and with it, the extra wheels; Goblin’s revved-up barking joins the excited chatter and whooping of the kids hanging on, a joyous cacophony of sound as you all head further down the empty street together.

Eddie picks up speed; there’s a twinge of fear as you watch the speedometer tick up to 10- and then he honks, once, and in perfect synchronicity all the kids let go. Some of them pedal furiously to keep up the momentum, others- like the girl on the skateboard- take advantage of the added speed to simply coast.

Soon enough, their cheerful waves and laughter recede into the distance along with the rest of the town as Eddie keeps his boot on the gas.

The heat in town was dizzying, so you’re relieved when the road dips and bends into the comfort of shade- courtesy of the wild forest flanking either side. 

It’s about a ten minute drive to Munson Farms, and on the way, Eddie tells you all about it. You learn that his Uncle Wayne raised him, taught him how to work and live off the land- when Wayne retired and moved a few miles down the road, Eddie took over.

“Not really a lucrative venture, farming,” he says, trees passing in a blur as he navigates the road curves with ease. “But the end of summer Town Fair pays well, ‘specially for sheep penning demonstrations. Got a couple of dairy cows, chickens that won’t stop laying- between that ‘n Wayne’s orchards, we got more than enough to get us through the winter months.

And then there’s the hives-”

“Bees?” Unable to help the interruption, your head whips in his direction, interest piqued. 

“Yup. Got about six hives right now in the southern pasture. Don’t know much about ‘em, truthfully- got a friend named Chrissy, comes once a week or so to make sure they stay maintained. I mostly just help come harvesting time, and try to stay out of her way for the rest.”

There are about a thousand other questions you want to ask- what kind of bees? Are they near your garden plot to promote pollination? Any bears in the area?- but you tamp down your excitement, settling on a neutral, “Cool,” before looking out the window again.

The sign for Munson Farms is handmade, too, but upkept much better than the one in town- it swings gently in the breeze on metal links as Eddie turns down the adjoining dirt road. About a quarter mile in, you start to see signs of life- fence lines running through the trees and the shush of a nearby water source- and then, a house.

It’s small, probably no more than a bed, bath, and kitchen inside. There’s a red brick chimney separating the straight lines of the blue-painted wood planks, ivy crawling up one side to frame the eastern-facing window. 

On the covered porch, a big, long-haired white dog lifts its head at the sound of the truck pulling in. Goblin gives a greeting bark, practically tripping over his oversized paws to launch out of the truck even as Eddie gripes at him to “Be careful, dammit!”

As you follow Eddie out of the truck and to the porch, the white dog shambles over on a stiff back leg, ignoring the playful jumping and licking Goblin gives in favor of coming up to sniff you. 

“This is Rosie,” Eddie says, patting her greying muzzle with a gentleness that twists something in your stomach. “She’s near older than me, was a great livestock guardian ‘til her age caught up. Been trying to train up Goblin to take her place but between you ‘n me I think his head might be full of rocks.”

As if he’s aware of the insult, Goblin gives an indignant yip and paws at Eddie’s knee; he gets laughed off by the two of you, zipping away with a deep sense of importance into the nearby forest while Rosie shambles back to her cozy porch spot.

It smells incredible, here, surrounded by so many trees- you take a deep breath, inhaling the rich pines, the verdant underbrush. Just past the house, there’s a fenced-in area with various plants spilling out of raised garden beds. You can almost smell the summer strawberries and crisp veggies. 

On the other side of the fence is a plastic-sheeted greenhouse, LED lights inside making the whole thing glow artificial purple. Eddie catches you staring, then gives a wink, laying one long finger to the side of his nose. “Don’t go tellin’ the Sheriff on me and I’ll give you a joint for your troubles.”

“Deal.” Wasn’t a hard sell at all- at the rate this is going, you’re dying to get high with this man. 

Eddie grabs your pack out of the truck bed and leads you across the dirt road, pointing out the fence lines in the distance, and a barn that you can just make out through a gap in the trees. 

“Sheep, cows, horses, all that way. This way-” his hand rests between your shoulder blades, steering you towards a boot-worn path, “-is the guest shack. Beehives’ll be just down the hill from where you’re stayin’.”

He pauses, looking back over his shoulder at you- “I’ll take you to see ‘em tomorrow. Promise. I just don’t want you goin’ by yourself and getting stung to death, y’hear?”

Not for the first time today, you wish, desperately, to tell him things you shouldn’t. I was actually an apprentice beekeeper for a year, I know my way around a hive. Studied entomology and agriculture in college before I lost myself in the worst mistake of my life. You know that pesky little J I’ve got on my wrist…?

But if you start talking, you won’t stop. And besides, you’re not planning to stay here long enough for your secrets to matter.

So instead, you press your lips into a line, looking solemn, nodding in agreement until he’s satisfied and continues on. 

The dirt path leads right to the shack, and Eddie opens the door to let you in. It’s about the size of a studio apartment- wood stove and sink next to the bathroom door, twin bed draped with a thick quilt budged up under the single window. Small, but homey and clean.

As you take it in, spinning in a slow circle, Eddie sets your duffel next to the bed and runs a hand over the top of his head, haloed frizz of his hair springing back into place. “Ain’t much, I know- usually just host the town rascals; they bring their sleeping bags and fight over who gets the mattress. But the sheets are washed, and-”

“Eddie.” You stop his rambling with a hand to his arm. “Seriously, it’s great. Better than great. I was probably gonna end up sleeping on the streets tonight, and you saved me from that. So… thank you. I mean it.”

The vulnerability in your own voice catches you off guard, but you decide to lean in to it. Eddie’s been nice for no reason- or, rather, because he seems to be a kind person- and you want to make sure he hears how grateful you are for a place to stay.

He’s staring down at your hand on his bare arm, eyes clouded with something you can’t parse out; you draw your hand back, which prompts him to speak- “Shit, darlin’. It’s nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You can stay as long as you like.”

“It’s not nothing,” you insist, arms crossing over your chest, rocking back on your heels. There’s a sudden swell of panic rising like bile in your throat; this morning, you were hell-bent on leaving, and now, you think it’ll kill you not to stay.

“Listen-” Eddie’s eyes snap up at the urgency in your voice, but you manage to push through- “I know I didn’t tell you much, about where I came from, or what I did to end up…”

On my own. The words stick in your throat, tears pricking threateningly at the corners of your vision. “...out here. But I grew up on a farm. I’m used to working livestock, riding horses- I can be helpful. Can earn my keep over the weekend, at least, doing whatever you need-”

Eddie interrupts with a shake of his head, your stomach plummeting until he says, “Got enough farmhands as it is, honey. Don’t need you getting your pretty hands dirty.”

“There has to be something. I can’t cook worth a damn, but I can clean-”

“Hey.” Eddie’s tone of voice slips into a low, soothing register, like you’re a spooked animal caught in a trap. He steps closer, and when you don’t flinch, he settles his big hands on the tops of your shoulders. “Shh. It’s okay. Like I said earlier- I’m not expecting nothin’ from you. Okay?”

There’s gotta be some sort of magical effect happening, an old Celtic carving under the floorboards, maybe a witch's spell braided in with the dried herbs hanging on the far wall. You’ve never felt so looked at before, like you’ve swam beyond your depth and Eddie’s hands are a life raft.

His eyes flit around your face, taking in the expressions you’re surely flickering through before he says, quietly- “If you want, how ‘bout you stay ‘til the end of summer. Help out where you can, and come Fair time, I’ll deal you in on the profits.”

You open your mouth to argue, and smooth as butter, his right hand slips up your shoulder, tattooed fingers wrapping firm around the back of your neck, thumb tapping the pulse point under your jaw, insistent- “This way, you’ll have cash enough in your pocket to go anywhere you want. It’s a good deal and you damn well better take it.”

You wonder if he can feel the jackrabbit pulse of your heartbeat under his thumb. When you nod, he gives a dimpled smile, satisfied. “Good. Now I’ll let you settle in and get washed up for supper. Come on over to the main house when you’re ready.”

Before the door shuts behind him, Eddie adds, “And don’t get too excited. I ain’t much of a cook, neither.”

After his footsteps have retreated down the path, you collapse onto the mattress, springs squeaking. You flip to stare up at the ceiling, running your fingertips over the ghost of his touch branded against your neck, almost nauseous from elation.

A whole summer. On Eddie’s farm. With Eddie. 

After a few minutes of deep breathing, you get up to unpack your duffel, then fold your meager clothes supply neatly into the top drawer of an old oak dresser in the corner, still room enough for your canteen.

The last thing in your bag is a twine-wrapped leather pouch. Your butterfly knife makes quick work of the knots, and then, the last of your most precious things in the world are laid out on the bed. 

A certificate of completion from Indiana U’s Beekeeping Department, folded and creased but still valid, signed by your last field mentor. 

A driver’s license with your old address, square photo of a younger and more hopeful you smiling back.

And lastly, an engagement ring. Gold, with a teardrop-shaped diamond center and sparkling accent stones trailing up either side of the band. 

It twinkles when you hold it up to the evening sunbeam streaming through the window; reflective pinpricks of light scatter and dance across the quilt.

In quick succession, you slide everything back into the pouch, securing it with the drawstring before burying it inside the hidden pocket of your bag.

Then, you shove the duffel under the bed until it hits the wall, and turn away to wash up for dinner.