#anyway i will be moving out into the woods who wants to go fish for microplastic salmon with me!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mphoenix-7 · 2 months ago

Text

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 15: The Cabin: Day 5 (pt. 6)

Summary: You finally catch a fish. Afterwards, you have a nice dinner with Soap and then do a little stargazing after, which turns into anything but stargazing.

Word Count: 14,875

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, strong language, animal death, smut, p in v, fluff, slightly rough smut, unprotected sex, sexual language, slight male masturbation, developing feels

A/N: Look at that word count… this is a long one. Lots of good stuff though! Also the drawing in this chapter is one that I did! Anyone, sorry for the wait, and please enjoy!!

Masterlist | <- Previous | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 15

Your options for clothing is beginning to really run thin. With Soap having destroyed one pair, and the bear shitting on the other, you only had two left. One was hanging out on the porch to dry, and the other wasn't the best for wading into the water. They didn't roll up very well, so you opt to wear the shorts you sleep in instead.

The sleep shorts weren't ideal either, but at least the shortened length would keep them out of the water, and they were dry. And now that you're back into some dry clothing, you can continue your fishing.

While you're back out in the water, watching carefully for what will hopefully be the last fish you try to catch, Soap is back on short making a fire. Every now and then, your gaze drifts from watching the water to check on the progress he's made. At least that's what you tell yourself you're checking on. You're not looking at him just because you want to look at him.

Though you have to admit, your moment from early was still fresh in your mind. As was the dream, your kiss from last night, and your little hookup a few nights back.

Thinking about each encounter made you angry with yourself but also made your heart leap in your chest. You liked it far more than you should, and with this last moment of weakness between you, you found that you didn't want to stop. Even now, after clearing your head, you almost regret listening to him. Part of you wishes you ignored him and kept going. Consequences be damned. It was almost like you were starting to fall for...

No! Absolutely not!

You physically recoil at that thought. You could not be falling for Soap MacTavish. You could not be starting to have feelings for this man. This guy who's caused you nothing but anguish during your entire time with the 141. That could not be what was happening.

But then what else could explain it? Soap seemed to think the whole reason that you slept with each other in the first place was because of stress. Stress couldn't be causing the continued make out sessions though. You didn't really feel stressed anymore. At least not because of Soap. Things had been great within the past twenty four hours.

So then were you really starting to fall for the Scot?

Sighing softly to yourself, you try to force those thoughts out of your head. Just tonight and then two more days. Maybe once you got out of the woods those feelings were go away.

"Oi! Lass! Catch anything yet?!"

You jolt a bit as Soap's voice reaches your ears, heart hammering in your chest now. You take a deep breath to settle your poor heart and then turn to look back at him, trying to act like he hadn't just startled you.

"No! And I won't with all your shouting!" You yell back.

There was no fish around anyway. Not big ones worth catching at least. You turn back to look at the water, debating if you should move and try somewhere else or keeping trying where you were.

"You want some help?" Soap asks, and when you look back at him, he's walked closer to the shoreline.

Huffing softly, you drop your stance and putting a hand on your hip. "I think I'm alright for now."

Soap shrugs a bit, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll be right back then. Gonna run inside and get something."

You watch as he retreats back towards the cabin, only looking away once he's up the steps. Sighing softly, you turn back to the water, continuing to play the waiting game.

Not a minute later, you hear the cabin door open back up and can make out the sounds of him getting close once again. You don't think too much of it when you can no longer hear him, but after about ten seconds, you begin to feel as though you're being watched.

Frowning, you turn back around to try and figure out why you're feeling that way, only to find Soap seated at a tree close to where you were. He was still a good few feet away, but he's close enough for you to notice the black journal in his lap and a pencil in his hand.

"What are you doing?" You ask curiously, brows furrowing.

"Drawing." He says simply, not taking his eyes off the page.

It makes you shift nervously. You try to ignore him, turning your attention back to the water. After only a few seconds though, you quickly figure out you can't just ignore him, and you turn back to look at him.

"Why?" You venture further, catching him at a moment where he's looking up and out towards whatever it is he's drawing. It seems to just be the lake, but you can't really tell.

"Why not?" Soap shrugs, his eyes staying up a second longer before going back to his sketch. "I'm done making the fire. Just trying to pass the time while I wait on your ass to catch a fish so we can start cooking."

You glare a little at him for that.

"Shouldn't you be watching the fire?" You glance towards where the little blaze is going. "You know so we don't set the woods and our housing on fire?"

Soap waves his hand in a dismissive gesture, still not looking up at you. "It's not gonna escape that pit. Besides it's like five meters away. I can keep an eye on it and draw." He argues.

You keep watching him, lips pursed together nervously. It crossed your mind he might be drawing you, but you didn't want to ask him if he was. He probably wasn't anyway. Why on earth would he draw you? It wasn't like he...

"You gonna just stand there staring at me or are you gonna catch a fish?" Soap asks, making you snap out of your daze instantly.

Your face flushes hot, heart skipping a beat as your eyes meet his. Oh god. You'd just been standing there... staring at him.

"I—I wasn't staring." You stammer, trying to will the heat in your cheeks away. The corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk, and your fluster only deepens. "I wasn't!" You insist a bit too quickly, your voice pitching higher in embarrassment. "I just... got lost in thought, that's all."

"Thinking about what?" He asks, raising a brow, which makes your face burn hotter if that was even possible. You quickly turn to try and hide your blush, but you're sure he's already noticed.

"Nothing." You answer shortly. Why did you care if he was drawing you? It was keeping him quiet and away from you, so it didn't really matter.

Soap laughs softly from his spot. He doesn't add anything else, and after a moment of silence, you assume he's gone back to his sketching, though you stubbornly refuse to glance back and confirm. Your attention returns fully to the water, focusing on the little ripples on the surface as you steady yourself.

Now that you're standing still, the fish begin to reappear, swimming cautiously around your legs. You keep your breathing shallow, body unmoving as you wait. After what feels like an eternity, one of a decent size glides lazily toward you. Your heart skips in excitement, but you keep your composure, not daring to move just yet and risk scaring it off.

The fish swims closer, and the closer it gets, the more your heart hammers in your chest. You hold your breath, raising your spear ever so slightly. Remembering Soap's advice, you adjust your aim—just a little lower than your instinct tells you.

Then, in a swift motion, you snap the spear down, piercing the water's calm surface. At first, you can't tell if you've gotten anything, but then your spear starts to jerk, making you hold it tighter. The fish wriggles and thrashes against the spear, but you've got it.

"Oh my God! Soap! I got one! I did it!" You shout, your voice breaking with excitement. "Quick! Come here! I got one!"

You press down harder on the spear, driving it deeper into the mud beneath the water to ensure the fish won't escape. From behind, you hear a splash as Soap jumps in and charges through the water, closing the distance between you in seconds. His hand instinctively finds its place at the small of your back as he comes up beside you.

"You finally got one?" He asks, a little breathless from the sprint over.

You nod eagerly, feeling the fish tug and jerk at the end of your spear. "Yes! I got one! Hurry, grab it before it gets away!"

Soap chuckles, and you feel a playful pinch at your hip. You're so focused on not losing the fish though you hardly even notice it. "I don't think it's going anywhere, hen." He reassures you as he bends down to reach into the water to get it. His hand wraps around the flailing fish, the other grasping your spear shaft.

"Let up on the spear. I got 'em. He's not going anywhere." He tells you. As he holds onto the fish with one hand, his other hand helps guide the spear up, lifting it just enough to pull it out of the water.

"Are you sure you got it?" You ask, resisting just a little bit at first. You wanted to be absolutely sure he had your fish.

Soap glances up at you from his crouched down position, and instead of answering you with words, he stands, hauling the fish up out of the water with him. You gasp a little in surprise, watching it thrashing around a little before settling. It was a pretty impressive fish, or at least you thought so. To a fisherman it probably wasn't anything too excited or even that big. But for your first time catching a fish, you were thrilled.

"Oh my God! I caught that?!" You were grinning so wide your cheeks hurt just slightly.

Soap's grinning too, chuckling softly as he glances between the fish and your beaming face. "Yeah, you did. Not too bad for a first timer." He praises, turning the fish a little to inspect it. The movement makes the fish squirm, its scales flashing under the sunlight as it struggles.

"It's huge! It looked smaller in the water." You say, looking it over as Soap turns it. You can't help but admire how the scales shimmer with iridescent greens and silvers, the white underbelly glistening in contrast. It looks similar to the others you'd been catching earlier.

Soap scoffs playfully. "Huge? Let's not get too carried away now." He chuckles, and you shoot him a glare, which only widens his grin. "But hey, for a first timer, I'd say it's a pretty decent catch." He adds, forearm flexing as the fish gives a sudden, powerful thrash. It's almost as if the fish is protesting his words and proving you were right.

You smirk, folding your arms across your chest as Soap regains control of the fish. "Don't ruin this for me, MacTavish. I'm allowed to be excited—I've been out here for hours."

Soap chuckles lightly and gives you a half smirk. "Alright, I'll shut up." He concedes, still chuckling softly as he turns and starts making his way back towards the shoreline.

You follow after him with a smile, still silently celebrating to yourself. It was going to be so much more satisfying to eat all the fish later knowing you were going to be eating one you caught yourself. You couldn't wait to get them over the fire.

"Hey States." Soap calls back to you after a few seconds, pulling you out of your thoughts and making you glance up at him. He still walking, only glancing over his shoulder slightly. "You did good. This is a really nice catch."

You pause for just a second, his praise taking a moment to process. When it does though, a warm feeling settles over you. "Thanks." You say softly, surprised that him saying something like that meant so much to you. Maybe it was because Soap never gave you compliments.

"So do you wanna kill it?" Soap asks as you walk onto the slightly sandy shore, pulling you rather abruptly from the high you'd been on.

"What?" You ask, looking back at him in surprise. "Do.. do I have to?" You frown. You'd been hoping, since he'd killed all the other fish, he'd just finish off this one off too. For whatever reason, it made you squeamish to think about killing it.

"Well, no." Soap says, immediately easing your anxiety about that. "I'll kill it if you don't want to. Just thought since you'd caught it and everything, you'd want to finish the job." He shrugs, looking back over at you again, almost like he waiting to see if you'd to change your mind.

You shake your head though. "No. I can't. I'm gonna feel so bad." Sure, you were responsible for catching it, and you were going to eat it, but for whatever reason, it was hard for you to kill innocent animals.

Soap gives you a look, but he quickly gets to work on getting his knife out to end the fish. "So you can kill people for a living but not a fish?" He questions, poking the knife through the gills and making a quick and clean cut. You have to look away when he does it. It still makes you uneasy.

"It's different when it's animals." You frown, risking a glance back to see if he was done. He was, and he was just tucking his knife back into his pocket. The fish was now still, blood dripping out of it where Soap made the cut.

"Don't go on missions with Ghost then." He mutters, tipping the fish upside down to let the fish bleed out better. It wouldn't take that long or at least the others didn't.

Soap's words pique your interest. You're well aware of how Ghost is. He's a very "do whatever it takes to get the job done" kind of guy. The way Soap says it though makes you think he's got a story.

"Why not?" You venture, tilting your head slightly. It's a gesture that makes Soap want to spare you, and you can see the slight hesitation in his eyes.

"Let's just say... he has no problem with shooting anything that might compromise him."

As vague as he's being, you understand pretty well. You know Price has given you the advice to shoot a dog if it was going to bark and alert others to your presence. Ghost most definitely stood by that principle. Honestly he was probably the one who told Price that in the first place.

You can't help but make a face at the thought of having to shoot an animal. "That... that sounds like him." You nod, leaving the conversation at that. You were just going to be sad if you kept talking about it.

"So... When can we get cooking?" You change the topic to something more appealing.

The second your mind goes back to food, you instantly get hungry. Your stomach makes this a well known fact too as it lets out a low and long rumble. It's been at least two hours since you decided to go fishing, and you're starving at this point.

Soap laughs as your stomach growls, his eyes flicking down as if he expected to see if rolling like it did in the cartoons. "We can start right now. Sounds like you won't make it much longer if we don't." He teases, an almost playful smirk tugging at his lips as he pinches your side lightly.

You swat his hand away as he pinches you and glare at him, which only makes him chuckle. "You gotta learn how to keep your hands to yourself." You huff as you follow behind him.

"Says the woman who can't seem to keep her hands off me." He laughs, glancing over his shoulder at you and raising a brow.

Your eyes widen at his words, and your cheeks start to burn a little. "Oh shut the fuck up. You act like you aren't equally as bad. If not worse!"

Soap huffs softly at your accusation as he places now the now fully bled out fish one of the logs in the stack of wood he's collected. "So you're not denying it?"

You freeze for just a moment, realizing in horror that you aren't. Has your whole dynamic with Soap really changed that much? Your mind struggles to come up with something to say back. You can't just deny it now that he's pointed it out.

So you deflect. You let out a groan and roll your eyes. "You're impossible, you know that?" You grumble, trying to sound indifferent, though the heat in your cheeks gives you away.

Soap just keeps smirking at you. "Aye, but I'm starting to think you like it." He answers cheekily as he wipes his hands off on his pants.

"Absolutely not." You shoot that down fast. "I'm only trying to be nice to you so you don't burn my fish."

"What makes you think I'm cooking your fish for you?" Soap huffs. "I caught most of them. Hell I even prepped all them while you were out there splashing around in the water. You can at least cook your own damn fish."

He picks up his fishing spear from the ground as he talks and works one of the fish onto the stick. It was the biggest fish too, but you weren't going to argue. He did technically catch it, and he ate a lot more than you did anyway.

"Fine. I can probably cook a fish better than you anyway." You shrug, walking over to grab one of the pre-prepped fish from the little pan Soap has placed them in.

"You wanna cook them all then?" He asks, offering the stick with his fish on it over to you.

You roll your eyes and push his hand away before taking your own fish and working it gently onto the your stick. "Just cook your own damn fish, Soap." You sigh, moving to the opposite side of the fire to cook your own fish.

You don't look back up at him, your eyes focused on making sure your fish doesn't burn to a crisp, but Soap smiles over at you through the fire.

***

You watch as the flames gently lick up over the fish, cooking the outsides to a slightly browned colored. It shouldn't take too long for the fish to cook, maybe only about ten minutes. It's already dripping juice down onto the burning logs though and the smell is incredible. It's the best thing you've smelled in years, and it's making your mouth water.

Time is passing by so slowly though. The longer you watch the fish cook, the more your stomach seems to feel like it's cramping up. You're about ready to just take it off the fire and risk eating it raw, but the last thing you want to do is give yourself food poisoning and have to wait it out for the rest of the few days you're here.

You watch as another drop leaves the fish and sizzles on some of the coals. In response, stomach lets off a particularly loud and long growl, one that makes Soap peak up over the fire at you.

"You hanging in there, States?" He asks, a slight chuckle in his voice.

You let out a low grunt in response, eyes fixed hungrily on the fish that's still not ready. "Barely," you mutter, frustration lacing your voice. Soap chuckles again, only adding to your annoyance. "It's taking forever." You grumble, and with a sigh, you flip the fish over, to cook the other side a little more.

"Mine's done."

Your head snaps up at that, disbelief etched across your face. Across the fire, Soap's wearing a smug grin as he pulls his fish off the flames and inspects it. You squint, trying to get a better look, but from where you're sitting, you can't tell if it's actually cooked or if he's just messing with you.

"How the hell is yours done already? We started at the same time!" You pout, unable to hide the hint of envy in your voice.

Soap huffs, that irritatingly self-satisfied grin never leaving his face. "Because I know what I'm doing." He replies matter-of-factly.

He glances down at his fish with a contented sigh. "Oh, this is gonna taste so good." He mumbles, and you watch as he begins blowing on it to cool it off.

You roll your eyes and slump back down, watching as your stubborn fish continues to sizzle over the flames. "Shut up, Soap." You mumble, the words almost drowned out by the grumbling of your empty stomach.

"Need some help?" He offers, that same infuriatingly amused tone coloring his voice. It only makes you bristle further.

"No." You snap, sharper than you intended. "Stop being an ass."

Soap's brows lift slightly, taken aback by your sudden outburst. A few minutes ago, you'd been lighthearted and playful, but now— He sighs softly, shoulders relaxing. "Alright, alright." The teasing drops from his voice, replaced by something gentler. "I was just messin'. No need to get all hangry on me."

You shoot him a half-hearted glare before dropping your gaze back to the fish, your irritation simmering low. "I'm not hangry."

"Uh-huh. Sure sounds like it." He murmurs, but his tone has shifted—more genuine, less needling. "C'mere, States. I've got hot coals over here. They'll cook your fish faster."

You hesitate, glancing over at him. You're still not happy with him, but you're also so hungry. You'd do almost anything to get your damn fish to cook faster so you can eat. Reluctantly, you sigh and stand up, walking over to where he's sitting.

When you settle beside him, Soap shifts slightly, carefully laying his own stick with the cooked fish against a log. Once it's balanced, he scoots closer to you, his thigh brushing against yours. The feeling makes your heart jump despite the previous frustration you were feeling towards him just a moment prior.

"Here, put the fish right above these coals." Soap instructs, his voice low. He points with one hand and gently adjusts your stick with the other. His fingers curl over yours as he guides it into place. Instead of focusing on where your fish is being placed by the coals, your eyes stay glued to where his hand lays over yours.

"There. It'll be done in no time." He says softly, his hand dropping away and resting back in his lap.

You shift your gaze back to your fish, noticing how much more intense the fire feels over here. The heat that radiates off the coals feels hotter and almost makes your cheeks burn.

While you're focused on your fish, you feel Soap shift back away from you for a second. When you look, you can see he's reached back over to get his fish. The sight of it, browned, charred, ready to eat, instantly makes your stomach growl again, and you catch Soap glance over at you, a little frown creasing his forehead.

Then, without a word, he nudges you gently. "Here." He says, holding out his perfectly cooked fish to you. "Eat this."

You blink, surprised. "What? But... you already—"

"I'll eat yours when it's done." He interrupts, his voice unusually gentle. "Go on, take it. You're starving, and I don't want you passing out on me or anything."

You look between him and the fish, a small frown forming on your lips. It was such a sweet gesture, and so uncharacteristic of him. You glance up to meet his eyes, finding they were already looking back at you, his gaze tender and warm.

When you still don't make a move to take the fish from him, his features soften even more. "States, either take the damn fish, or I'm gonna make you take it." He warns lightly, and you can tell he's not mad, but he's being serious.

His threat puts you at ease, and you smile. That was more like the Soap you knew. "Thanks." You murmur quietly, accepting the stick as he reaches over to grab yours in exchange.

The second the fish is in your hands, saliva starts to pool in your mouth. You don't waste any time, bringing it to your lips and taking a big, eager bite. The moment the warm, flaky fish hits your tongue, it's as if every sense lights up at once. It's not perfectly seasoned or delicately prepared—it's slightly charred on the edges and a little tough to bite off and chew. But after a week of bland MREs and tasteless food, this is the best thing you've eaten in your entire life.

A slight smoky flavor from the fire lingers on your tongue, and the little bit of salt you added before is just barely noticeable. You take a second bit and hum quietly in appreciation, barely able to suppress the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth.

Soap watches you for a moment, a soft and pleasant expression on his face. "Better?" He asks quietly.

You nod, still in the middle of chewing, eyes closed as you savor your current bite. "Yeah... thanks, Soap." You say mutter after a bit, feeling your earlier anger melt instantly. Maybe you were just hangry.

"No problem, hen." He murmurs sweetly, his gaze returning to the fish cooking on the coals and turning it over.

You glance back over at him, watching the side of his face. The flames cast an orangish glow to his cheeks and shadows to his jawline. It's strange how different he looks in this moment—maybe it's the firelight, or maybe it's just how at ease he seems, sitting beside you.

An unfamiliar warmth settles deeper in your chest, wrapping around your heart, filling you with a lightness you haven't felt in... you don't even know how long. It radiates through you, down to your fingertips and the tips of your toes, making you feel almost weightless.

You blink, suddenly aware of how much you enjoy being around Soap—how much you've come to look forward to these moments. The banter, the teasing, the soft simple moments like this one. The way he looks at you sometimes with something unspoken that you can't quite put your finger on.

You take a shaky breath to try and steady yourself, to shake off the warmth spreading through you, but it's no use. Being around Soap just... feels good. Better than you expected. Better than you'd let yourself admit until now.

He glances over, catching your gaze for a second, and a small smile tugs at his lips. "You alright, hen?" He asks, his tone light but laced with a quiet concern.

You nod quickly, looking away as your heart skips a beat. "Yeah, I'm good." You manage to say, though your voice sounds breathy.

Soap watches you a moment longer before going back to tending to the fish, seemingly unaware of the shift happening inside you. But you're aware. So painfully aware of how close he's sitting, of the warmth of his leg brushing against yours, of the subtle comfort that his presence brings. You can't shake the feeling that something's changed between you—you know something has. Something you can't quite name, but it's there, and it's only growing.

"There!" Soap's voice pulls your attention back to him. "All done. Told ya they'd cook faster over here." He smiles, blowing gently on the fish. He glances back to you as he does, noticing the barely touched fish, only sporting two bites, on the stick in your lap.

"How's the fish, lass? It looks like you've hardly touched it." He frowns. Knowing how hungry you were a moment before, he's a little surprised the entire thing wasn't completely gone by now.

You look back down at your fish, smiling a little. "It's really good. I'm just trying to make it last." You lift it back up to your lips to take another bite then, which makes Soap relax a bit.

"I hope it tastes as good as it smells." He says softly, turning his over to look for a good place to dig in. He tries to take a small bite but immediately withdrawals, making a face. "Ah, way too fucking hot yet. Just burnt my tongue."

Without thinking, you hold out the fish you'd been eating to him. "Wanna take a bite?" You ask, it taking you a moment to realize what you were doing. By the time you do, it's far too late to take it back.

Soap looks at you with an amused sparkle in his eye and he laughs. "Nah, I don't wanna get your cooties." He teases lightly, making you roll your eyes at him despite the smile making your cheeks burn.

"Soap we've had sex and you've kissed me how many times now? You definitely have my cooties already. More aren't gonna hurt you." You tease right back. It makes him laugh harder, and he even throws his head back a little as he does.

"I guess I can't argue with that." He says as he comes down from his laughter. "Alright, give it here then."

He motions for you to hand the fish over, so you hold it out for him to take. Instead of just taking it from you though, he grabs around your hand and brings the fish up to his lips.

As he takes a bite, his eyes flick up to meet yours, locking as his teeth slowly sink in. Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch him, eyes widened just the slightest. And Soap knows what it's doing to you. You see the corner of his lips twitch up into a smirk as he leans back, chewing slowly.

Your mind is scrambling for something to say to break this new tension that's formed. A tension that's not helping you sort through your newly discovered feelings.

"You.. you like it?" You find yourself saying, watching as he swipes his thumb across his bottom lip and sucks the juices off.

"Not a five star meal, but the best bloody thing I've had in a while." He chuckles. "We should have done this day one."

That makes you giggle a bit, and you relax slightly as you go back to eating peacefully. "I think I probably would have drown you in the lake if we went near it day one." You point out, remembering how absolutely angry he'd made you during the flight over and the walk to the cabin.

Soap laughs softly, attempting once more to eat his own fish and taking a tentative bite out of it. "I could see you trying." He says as he takes a small bite, making you narrow your eyes at him.

"Try? I totally could." You huff. You've never been allowed to spar each other before, Price wouldn't let you since he was worried you two would end up seriously hurting each other, but you feel like you can take him.

Soap huffs back and shakes his head. "States, you weigh nothing to me. I'm practically double your weight. Plus I'm taller than you. In water, I'm gonna win." He shrugs, taking another bite of his fish.

You scoff at him, wanting to argue, but he made a decent point. He'd have the advantage in water. "So you're saying on land I'd kick your ass then?" You raise your brow at him.

Soap gives you a side glance, then huffs through his nose and shakes his head, dismissing you easily. "Hell no. I'd beat you on land too. Without a doubt."

You roll your eyes. "You underestimate me. I could so pin you if we sparred." You say, with maybe a little too much confidence.

Soap pauses a moment, as if thinking, and then shrugs. "Alright. Let's spar then." He says, quickly catching your attention.

"What? Like right now?" You frown.

"Yeah, right now. Let's settle it."

"Oh..." You purse your lips together. Sure you were confident that you could take Soap in a sparring match, but maybe not in the middle of the woods. Or without mats. And definitely not with all the sexual tension between you lately.

"Maybe not right now." You say slowly. "We're eating, and I'm hungry. And tired." You shift a little where you're sitting, giving a half-hearted shrug. "It just wouldn't be a fair match."

You notice Soap beginning to grin as soon as the excuse leaves your lips. "Yeah, sure. Alright." He chuckles softly, leaving it at that as he settles back down to finish his fish.

***

The rest of the evening is spent cooking and eating the fish you caught. It was the most satisfying meal you've had since arriving to the cabin. It was going to be hard to go back to eating the MREs for the remaining few days, but there was also the potential to go out fishing again tomorrow. And hopefully you'd be quicker at catching them then.

By the time you're both done eating, the sun has almost set completely over the horizon. It's getting dark out, the only light coming from the moon and the fire that was still burning bright but slowly turning into only embers.

You sigh softly, your stomach feeling like it was ready to burst. "I ate way too much." You chuckle, resting a hand on your now protruding belly. "That was the best meal ever though."

Soap laughs softly as he finishes piling up all your scraps and utensils off to the side to be cleaned up later. "You ready to turn in for the night then, lass?" He asks, standing by the fire and looking down at you.

You hum softly in thought but then shake your head. "No. I think I want to stay out here a little longer. Disgust a bit before bed."

You really hadn't gotten the chance to enjoy the night air since you arrived. There was always something that kept you inside almost as soon as the sun began to set. It was such a peaceful night tonight too. You want to enjoy it and the bonfire a while longer.

Soap nods a little, and you watch as he goes back to the wood pile. "I'll put another log on for you then." He says, looking over the few pieces of wood that remained.

"Thanks." You smile, watching as he picks out a log and carries it over to the fire. He tries to place it gently as not to make the entire log pile collapse, but it's a vein effort since the second he sets it down, everything falls over, causing a bunch of sparks to flare up into the air.

You follow the trail of sparks up a little ways, far enough that your attention gets pulled to the sky. Above you, the stars are just starting to come out, and they're already so much brighter than what you'd ever see on base.

"Wow..." You breathe softly. "I never noticed all the stars you can see out here."

Soap looks up towards the sky as well, humming pleasantly. "It's pretty." He mumbles, and there's a brief of moment of silence that falls between you as you both admire the twinkling lights.

You almost forget where you are for a moment until Soap breaks the silence. "I can go grab a blanket and lay it out. That way you can lay down and not have to crane your neck to see." He offers.

You look back at him, warmth filling your chest at the sweet offer. You're starting to get used to this side of Soap.

"Yeah." You smile. "That'd be nice."

"Alright. I'll be back in a second." With that, he's off, walking back towards the cabin.

You watch his figure retreat until he disappears inside. Once he's out of sight, your gaze drops to watching the fire, a soft sigh leaving your lips. You find yourself hoping that he'll want to stay and star gaze with you for bit.

Before you can overthink too much about that thought, you hear the cabin door open and slam shut as Soap makes his way back over to you. In his arms, he carries the blanket from his sleeping roll. It was really the only blanket you had, but the fact he was willing to use it just so you could stargaze was a sweet concept.

"Where do you want it?" He asks once he's within ear shot from you. You're a little unprepared for his question and quickly start to glance around for an open spot to lay the blanket out.

"Oh.. uh.. maybe just right over here by the fire?" You motion to a somewhat cleared off area that's just a little ways away from the fire. You know the second you move away from the flames that you're gonna start getting cold, but hopefully you'll still be close enough to stay warm.

Soap gets right to work on laying out the blanket where you've requested it to go, unfolding it and making sure it lays flat. When he's done, he stands up and motions down at it.

"There you go." He says simply as you get up and move to blanket. Kicking your shoes off, you step onto it and sit down.

"Thanks." You hum softly, moving around a bit to get comfortable.

Soap watches you a moment, still standing off to the side of the blanket. "It's not a problem, lass." He shrugs dismissively. "Just bring the blanket in when you're done. And put the fire out." He adds, making you instantly look back up at him.

"You're not staying?" You frown, disappointment settling heavily in your chest.

Soap pauses, almost like he was surprised you'd ask that. "Uh.. yeah. I was just gonna go in..." He says slowly. "Did... did you want me to stay?" He asks hesitantly, uncertain.

"Well... yeah." You answer him softly. Your voice sounds so much more vulnerable than you expected it to be. "I want you to stay. Or I wouldn't mind the company at least. You know in case the bear comes back or something."

You're rambling a little, which just makes Soap smile. He looks down towards his feet as he does and then starts kick his shoes off too.

"Alright. I guess I can watch the sky with you for a little while." He agrees, instantly making any nerves you had die off.

"Great." You sigh softly, smiling as he settles onto the blanket beside you, leaving a modest space as he lays back.

You lay back on the blanket too, already able to feel the cool ground quickly seeping through the blanket and into your backside. If you had the thermal liner, it'd be much better, but you don't feel like getting up to get it.

A silence settles between you as both your gazes fixate on the stars above you. Even though the stars were the whole reason you were out here still in the first place, you find your attention is more focused on the man next to you.

"Did you ever stargaze back in Scotland?" You find yourself asking, keeping your eyes on the sky.

"Maybe a bit?" Soap replies, and you can hear the rustle of his shoulders moving against the blanket as he shrugs. "I mean the stars in Scotland are beautiful. But I don't think I ever did something like this." He explains. "What about you?"

"Not really." You chuckle. "It's impossible to really get stars like this in the city. Even out in the country they aren't too bright. But I dated a guy once who took me stargazing before. Really it was just to make out though. I don't think he really intended on looking for constellations."

Soap hums softly. "I can't believe you had a guy who wanted to date you." He mutters.

You shoot him a glare and wack his chest, which makes Soap laugh. "Ass." You grumble, though you're smiling too. "I'll have you know I had a lot of suitors back in America."

"What was wrong with them?" He adds, making you wind up to hit his chest again. He flinches and holds his hands up defensively. "I'm only kidding!" He says through his laughter. "I don't doubt you had a lot of guys lined up to date you."

"I can't tell if you're being serious or not." You huff despite the smile on your face. You settle back down into your spot, listening as Soap does the same. It seems like he's closer now.

"I'm being serious." He confirms. "You're an attractive woman, States. Lots of guys like you. Hell, there's a lot of idiots back on base who have crushes on you."

You raise your brows in surprise. "Really?" You've never paid much attention to things like that before, or at least no one's ever made it obvious.

"Yeah, really. Gets annoying, honestly. You know how many guys outside our task force have asked me if you're single or if I can set them up with you?" He scoffs at the end, almost like just thinking about it was as annoying as the real thing.

"Do I even want to know what you've told them?" No guy had ever asked you out, so you're sure the things he said weren't very nice. There was no way Soap had played the knight in shining armor trying to protect you.

"Told 'em you were a bitch. That you were psychotic, smelled bad, snored in your sleep. Lots of stuff." He shrugs, as if saying those things wasn't a big deal. You have to admit though that it hurt to hear him admit that.

"No wonder I had no idea anyone was interested." You mutter, the hurt coming through in your tone a little despite you trying to hide it. You hear Soap's head shift as he looks over at you, but you keep your gaze on the sky.

"You wouldn't have wanted to date those men anyway, States. All of them just wanted in your pants. I wasn't gonna just let them use you like that."

You pause, taking in what he said. "Why would you do that? I thought you didn't like me."

Soap scoffs softly. "I didn't. But I'm not a total asshole. You're still part of my team, and I'm not about to let some horny pricks hurt you. That's my job." He tries to say it jokingly, trying to lighten the mood a little.

You roll your eyes, but there was something sweet about the whole thing. You couldn't really be upset with him for scaring off men like that, but still. It still hurt he said those things.

"Lucky me." You sigh, trying to push past it. It makes Soap chuckle softly, but he can still tell you're unhappy.

Soap looks back up at the sky, a brief silence settling before you. After a few seconds, he breaks it.

"You know, now I'm gonna have to start telling them other things to ward them off." He says, making you glance over at him.

"Why's that?" You venture curiously.

Soap seems to hesitant a second before he answers. "Well... cause you're really not that half bad. I mean you're still kinda annoying, but you're not too bad either."

As back handed as it sounded, it was one of the nicest things Soap has ever said to you. You find yourself smiling and almost swooning over those words.

"You're not so bad either, Soap." You mumble back, watching as a smile settles on his face too. Your gaze returns to the stars then, and you feel a sense of peace and contentment settle over you.

You lay there in silence for maybe a minute longer before you turn to look at Soap once more. "Did you finish your drawing from earlier?" You ask.

"Ehh, mostly. I didn't have time to finish the scenery." He says, his gaze staying fixed on the sky.

You hum softly, trying to work up the courage to ask to see it. You're not sure why, but it feels so personal to ask about seeing his artwork.

"Can I see it?" You finally ask in a soft voice, glancing back over to Soap. He looks back at you, almost seeming hesitant.

"You really want to?" He asks slowly, and you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek nervously. "Ok. Yeah, sure." He nods.

Sitting up, he leans over towards where he last placed the book last, balanced on the wooden log he'd been sitting at earlier. "I'm not sure how well you'll be able to see it." He adds as he grabs it.

He makes a good point, it's now almost completely dark aside from the fire and a little light from the moon. You're hoping though that you're close enough to the fire to see most of the picture.

"That's alright. I still wanna see it." You tell him, sitting up and watching as he flips through a few pages to look for it. You wonder what else he's drawn since being here.

As soon as he finds it, he starts to scoot closer to you. "Here. This is what I was able to get done."

He hands the book over to you, and you take it from him. You have to angle the book a certain way towards the fire to see it, but the image slowly becomes illuminated.

It was a drawing of you. Out in the middle of the lake, spear in hand. The background isn't finished at all or even sketched out. The main focus of the drawing was you. And given the amount of time Soap had, which you assume hadn't been long, there was an impressive amount of detail.

Your heart skips in your chest as you study the image. Your cheeks are burning a little, but you can't help but smile. So he had been drawing you after all.

"You drew me?" You ask softly, eyes not leaving the page.

Next to you, Soap smiles a little. If you'd looked, you would have seen that his own cheeks were slightly pink. Though it could have just been the orange glow from the fire.

"Yeah. You were such a good model cause you were standing out there for so long." He jokes.

You huff softly and glare over at him. "I had a feeling you were drawing me." You grumble, turning your attention back to the drawing and studying more of the image. "It's really nice though. You must have sketched this in like five minutes."

Soap shrugs a little. "This took me longer than five minutes. I was working on it earlier. It's a little sloppy compared to some of my other drawings."

You glance back over at him. "Can I see the others?" You ask, and he chuckles a little before shrugging.

"Go ahead." He nods, and you start to slowly flip through his sketch book, looking over all the sketches he's done in the past five days.

A lot of them are sketches of the cabin and the lake. Some are half finished, others are very detailed. He's also drawn a few animals and a few things from inside of the cabin, like the wood stove and a half finished sketch of what looks like your dining area.

As you look them over, a little breeze picks up, making you shiver. It was starting to get very cold out, and despite the fire being close by still, you were getting a little chilly.

Soap hears you shiver and looks up from watching you flip through the book. "Cold?" He asks, and you nod.

"Just a little." You admit, trying to shrug it off.

His eyes drift down to your practically bare legs, hardly covered by the pajama shorts you were wearing. "You know, pants would help." He teases, making you shake your head.

"You mean the pants that are damp still because you tackled me in the water earlier?" You raise an eyebrow at him, which makes him laugh.

"Ah. Right. Well, come here then." He says softly, his voice dipping lower as he shifts closer to you.

Before you can even react, his arm slides around your back, guiding you firmly into his side. You feel the warmth of his body almost immediately, seeping through the fabric of your shirt, and you stiffen for just a second as he adjusts his hold. His hand settles at the curve of your waist, fingers pressing gently into your side, not pulling you in too tight, but enough that your back is now pressed to his chest and side a bit.

You can feel his every breath and every flex of his muscles with every subtle movement he makes. You glance up at him, wide-eyed, but Soap's already looking back down at you.

"Better?" He murmurs, his voice a soft rumble that seems to vibrate right through you. His leg shifts then, brushing lightly against yours, and you're hyper-aware of how solid and strong his body feels beside you. Every point of contact—his arm around you, the slight pressure of his thigh against your knee, the way his breath is practically on you neck—sends a subtle shiver through you that has nothing to do with the cold air.

"Uh..." You can't seem to form a coherent thought, let alone a response. All you can focus on is how close he is. The heat radiating off him, his scent— it's all making your head spin just a little.

Your heart hammers harder in your chest, the steady thump-thump-thump of it so loud you're sure he can hear it. You swallow, trying to clear the sudden dryness in your throat. "Yeah. Better." You finally manage to say, the words coming out quieter than you intend.

He gives you a small, almost satisfied smile, the corners of his mouth curving up just slightly. "Good."

You try to focus your attention back on the book, but it's pointless. You can't concentrate on the thing to save your life. You're doing everything you can to calm your heart down before it beats out of your chest. Just to play along, you absentmindedly turn to the next page of the sketch book, but you have no idea what's actually on the page.

Then his thumb starts to brush against your hip, and the simple motion sends a jolt of electricity through you, making your breath catch. Your heart pounds so loudly in your ears, and you're struggling to keep your breathing from increasing.

Soap shifts again, his thigh now fully against yours. He's so warm, like a living heater, though at this point it's hard to tell if you're warm from his body heat or something else.

Then you notice it. The fast thumps against your back. His heart hammering away in his own chest at the same rate that yours is. He's having the same reaction as you are. If you listen, you can hear him trying to control his breathing too. The sound is too choppy to be natural.

Knowing he's feeling the same way calms your own nerves immensely. Slowly, your body relaxes against his, and you begin to cuddle in closer to him. You tilt your head towards his just the slightest bit, and Soap presses his cheek down onto the top of your head.

You hear Soap exhale softly, like he's releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding, and his arm tightens around you just a fraction more, the motion sending a fresh wave of warmth through your entire body. His fingers splay out across your side, the tips brushing lightly against your ribs, making your pulse flutter wildly.

Your eyes slowly close, the sketch book forgotten in your lap. You let yourself fully relax into Soap and soak up this feeling. You know it's attraction, or at least part of it is. You've felt this before with other men, but there's still something more there. Your body feels electric when he holds you like this. You've never felt that way before.

"States.."

Your name leaves Soap's lips, making your heart flutter up into your throat. You carefully tilt your head up, eyes meeting Soap's slowly. Once they do, it feels like you can't breathe. His eyes are so heavy with emotion you can't even think.

His hand, cold but gentle, touches your cheek. It's such a shocking contrast that it reminds you to breathe. He cups your jaw, keeping your head tilted up towards him, though you weren't planning on looking away.

"Oh, fuck it..."

He mumbles it so softly you're sure you wouldn't have heard him if you'd been a fraction of an inch further from him. Even if you hadn't, his actions spoke for him.

He closes whatever distance was between you fast. The first brush of his lips against yours is tentative, almost testing. They're soft, warmer than his hands, and the touch is light enough that you barely feel it at first.

Your lips make a soft, almost inaudible popping sound as they part. You're left with just a ghostly feeling of where his lips were and his warm breath against them from his labored breathing as he gages your reaction.

You feel numb almost. Definitely like you're floating. Then a rush of emotion surges through you—excitement, confusion, desire, everything all at once. You feel a flush spread across your cheeks, a warmth that has nothing to do with the fire crackling nearby. You don't know what to say, don't know how to put into words what's racing through your head. So instead, you take a deep breath, steady yourself, and lean in.

This time, you're the one to close the distance. You bring your hand to the back of his neck, and your lips press against his, firmer than his first kiss, your eyes sliding shut as the world tilts on its axis. Soap stiffens for a heartbeat, a small, almost inaudible gasp escaping him. But then you feel him relax, his whole body seeming to melt against yours as he returns the kiss, his mouth moving slowly, carefully, against yours. There's still a hint of that same hesitation, but it's fading with every second.

You pull back an inch, just enough to catch your breath, and when you open your eyes, you find Soap staring down at you. His pupils are blown wide, dark with an intensity that takes your breath away. His lips are slightly parted, his breathing ragged, and the way he's looking at you sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

"This ok?" He asks breathily, his hand still gripping your jaw. He's nervous, you realize.

You give him a smile and gently move your fingers to the base of his hairline. His eyes struggle to not roll back as you play with the short hairs there.

"More than ok." You assure him, putting a light pressure on the back of his head and pulling his lips back down to yours. When they meet this time, Soap is smiling, and he almost seems to sigh against your lips.

You exchange a few more tender kisses but then something shifts. His hand on your waist starts to tighten, pulling you closer, and his lips press more firmly against yours, drawing in a quiet gasp from you.

The sound seems to spur him on. Soap's hand leaves your cheek to slip back into your hair, his fingers threading through it as he tilts your head just enough to deepen the kiss. Your own hands move to his shoulders, going between gripping them and cupping the sides of his neck. It's like every nerve ending in your body lights up the moment your lips touch, the sensation so intense it's almost dizzying.

You can feel the roughness of his stubble scrape lightly against your skin as his lips part against yours, coaxing your mouth open. The first slide of his tongue is a shock—a gentle, seeking motion that sends a thrill racing down your spine. You make a small sound, something between a whimper and a sigh, and Soap responds instantly. His tongue slips into your mouth, the taste of him invading your senses, and you find yourself pressing closer, desperate to feel more of him.

There's a soft, wet sound as his tongue tangles with yours, a quiet pop as he pulls back only to kiss you again, harder this time. His fingers tighten in your hair, his other hand moving from your waist to grip your hip, pulling you up into his lap. The motion sends a wave of heat crashing through you, your body arching slightly into his, and you gasp again, the sound swallowed by his mouth as he kisses you deeper.

Your hands move without thinking, sliding down to feel the hard muscle of his chest. From there, one hand slides up to the back of his neck again, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the tension in his muscles. Your other hand fists his shirt, knuckles brushing against the hard plane of his chest as you try to anchor yourself. It's overwhelming, the way he's kissing you—so intense, so utterly consuming. Every time you think you've caught your breath, he shifts, tilts his head, and the kiss changes, becomes something even deeper, more insistent.

You shift your hips slightly, wiggling down more into his lap. You slide right down onto a hard lump, and the feeling of it against your thigh and pelvis is unmistakable.

Soap makes a low sound deep in his throat, almost a growl, and the vibration of it against your lips sends another shudder through you. His hands move again, one sliding down your back, pressing you even closer against him, the other cupping the back of your head, holding you in place as if he can't bear the thought of you pulling away. You're not sure if you even could if you tried.

You feel his teeth graze your lower lip, a light nip that has you gasping into his mouth. He pulls back just enough to murmur something, the words lost, and then he's kissing you again, harder, fiercer, like he's trying to pour every unsaid word, every hidden feeling into the press of his lips.

It's not just a kiss. It's like a release of something that's been building for so long, something you've both been holding back without even realizing it. And now that the dam's broken, there's no stopping it. Soap's kisses are relentless, almost desperate, and you can feel your heart pounding so hard it's a wonder it hasn't burst right out of your chest.

You can't help it—you let out a small, breathless moan, and Soap freezes for just a second. His lips hover over yours, his breath mingling with yours as he stares up at you, eyes dark and filled with something that makes your stomach flip.

"States..." He whispers, voice rough and thick. He swallows, his gaze flicking down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. "You—"

Whatever he was going to say is lost as you lean up, capturing his mouth again. This time, you're the one pushing, deepening the kiss, your tongue sliding against his, tasting and teasing, drawing out another one of those low, rumbling sounds from deep in his chest. Soap's hand tightens in your hair, his arm wrapping fully around your waist, holding you so close you can feel the steady thud of his heart against your chest.

And then he's kissing you back with renewed intensity, the hand on your waist sliding down to your hip, fingers digging into your ass and making you gasp. He uses the leverage to pull you down harder against his bulge, and you're not sure if it's him or you, but your hips start rocking against him, bring a delicious friction to both of you.

It's dizzying, overwhelming, and yet you can't get enough. Your fingers slip up into his hair, tugging gently, and Soap groans softly against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. You can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coil and flex, the restraint in the way his hands hold you, as if he's struggling to keep himself in check.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm and ragged against your lips. He's staring at you, eyes wide and almost wild, his chest heaving with every breath.

"Fuck, States..." He whispers, voice hoarse and raw, and the sound of it sends another shiver through you and a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your belly.

The way he's looking at you—like he's on the verge of losing control—makes your pulse skip, the intensity of it stealing your breath. His chest rises and falls rapidly, every breath a visible struggle to calm himself. But you can tell he's not calm. Not even close.

You can feel the tremor in his hands where they still hold you, the way his fingers dig in a little too tightly, like he's trying to ground himself.

"Soap..." You murmur his name softly, almost in a daze, watching as his eyes trail your body. He's barely holding back. You want him. Desperately. Every nerve in your body is singing for him to touch you, to keep going.

Soap's gaze flickers back up to yours. "I want this," he breathes, his voice low, strained. "I want you. So damn bad, States." He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion.

You carefully bring your hand up to cup his cheek and brush your thumb against his rough stubble. His eyes flutter shut at the tough, and he leans into your hand.

"I want you too..." You breathe.

Soap's eyes open slowly, and when he looks at you, there's something vulnerable in his gaze. He swallows thickly, opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but hesitates. Whatever it is, he decides against it, his brow furrowing slightly before he just leans forward and captures your lips in a fierce kiss. It's almost like he's pouring all his unspoken words into it, the intensity of his grip on you saying everything he can't.

You mirror his sudden urgency for a moment, but then your hand comes up to gently cup his face, thumb brushing his cheek to slow him down. "Soap... wait..."

He pauses immediately, pulling back just enough to look up at you, confusion and concern flickering in his eyes. His chest is still heaving, breaths mingling with yours, but he stays still, waiting for you to continue.

"If we keep going, I want to do it slow. Not like the first time." You say gently, making his concern gaze soften quickly.

He leans in again, placing a few delicate kisses along your jaw, making his way to your ear. "Then let me take my time, aye?" He whispers, deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You nod weakly, eyes fluttering shut as he dips his head, mouth hovering just over the sensitive skin beneath your ear. His lips brush softly against your pulse, his wet tongue darting out and licking a small strip. "I want to feel every inch of you." He whispers, his voice deep and husky, making you whimper.

He starts to kiss at your pulse point, teeth dragging against the sensitive skin. "Wanna hear every sound you make... every little gasp and moan..." He trails off, his tone almost ragged now, as if he's struggling to keep himself in check. "Want to know exactly what makes you lose your mind, hen."

A breathless whine escapes you at his words, and you moan out his name. Not his callsign, his name.

"John..." You breathe, and his mouth stills, his lips hovering just over your skin. You feel his gaze on you, intense and searing, and when you force your eyes open, you find his face so close.

"S-sorry... just sli-"

"Say it again." He cuts you off.

"What?" You ask slowly, brows furrowed just a little.

"Say my name again." He elaborates, eyes growing heavy as he stares at you.

Hesitantly, you do as he asks. "John." You whisper.

His breath stutters, and for a moment, he just looks at you, something intense and almost awed flickering in his gaze. Then, with a soft groan, he dips his head, capturing your lips again in a slow, languid kiss that's completely different from the ones before. This isn't rushed or frantic; it's deliberate, controlled, as if he's savoring every second, every slide of his mouth against yours.

You sigh into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. The kiss deepens, his tongue sliding along the seam of your lips once more, and you part for him instantly, welcoming him in. He explores your mouth with a tenderness that has your heart skipping, each caress of his tongue sending pleasure zipping through you.

Your hips start to find a natural rhythm by themselves, rubbing against the warm hard lump that's been pressing up into you this entire time. Every gentle grind draws a soft but heavy, muffled sound from him, a deep, throaty hum from deep in his chest.

"God, States..." He breathes, pulling back just enough to press his forehead against yours, his chest heaving. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire, and the sight sends another wave of heat crashing through you. "I want to take my time, but fuck... you're making it so hard."

"I thought that was the whole point." You joke, a little grin forming on your lips. Soap looks confused for a moment but then a look of understanding crosses his face.

"You know what I'm talking about." He chuckles, shaking his head. His lips return to your neck, placing wet open mouthed kisses along your pulse point.

Your eyes flutter shut and you giggle softly, hands moving down to grip his shoulders. As amazing as his lips felt on your neck, you push him away. Soap looks up at you with heavy eyes, and you slide your hands down to his chest and gently start pushing him back to lay down. He stiffens up a little as you try, unsure of what you were doing.

"Let me, okay? Just... let me." You tell him softly, and you swear you can see his pupils dilate slightly. His muscles starts to relax under your fingertips, and he lets you push him back against the blanket. His eyes are fixated on yours the whole way down, hands sliding down your sides to settle on your hips and thighs.

Your heart is pounding as you stare down at him. He looks so good under you. You never believed in a million years that Soap would ever be nice to you let along let you be on top of him like this. You always imagined the only time he'd ever be under you was if you beat him in sparring. And he wouldn't be looking at you the way he is now.

There's something intoxicating about the way he watches you—like you're the only thing that exists for him right now. You shift your hips a little, adjusting your position just slightly so that you're more centered on his bulge. That movement alone makes his grip on your hips tighten significantly, and once you start grinding, he's a goner. The contact draws a low, rough sound from him, something between a growl and a groan, his head tipping back against the blanket.

"Fuck..." He breathes, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. His grip flexes, a barely restrained tremor running through his fingers. When his eyes open again, they're trained on where your hips meet. "Christ, States. You're killing me here." He growls out, his accent much thicker now.

You giggle softly, relishing in this power you have over him. "You're very impatient."

Soap rolls his eyes, his hands roaming your thighs a little as he continues to watch. "You would be too if a bonnie lass was grindin' on your dick." His hands drift to the hem of your shorts, giving them a gentle tug. "Now, how about we get these off you, hen."

You swallow hard, heart pounding in your chest, but you nod and rise up on your knees, letting him peel them down. His knuckles brushing against you as he goes, the sensation making heat pool between your legs.

He only manages to get them down to your mid thigh before he stops abruptly. "Oh hell's fucking bells..." He groans, his voice is little more than a husky rasp. "You just had to wear those, huh?"

You glance down at yourself, forgetting what you were even wearing. When your eyes settle on the delicate red lace of your underwear, heat rushes to your cheeks. It's the same pair Soap had grabbed when you'd been forced to repack your things. This wasn't something you picked out for him—hadn't even thought for a second you'd be here with him right now.

"I-I didn't plan this." You stutter, embarrassment creeping into your voice. "I just grabbed whatever was clean."

Soap hums softly, almost like he wasn't even fully listening to you. His gaze was on the red lacy pattern, thumbs tracing the hemline. "Doesn't matter." He mumbles. "These are staying on though. Gonna ruin 'em."

You can't help but scoff at him for that. "What's up with you and wanting to ruin my clothes?" You huff, stumbling forward just a little as Soap reaches around you to start undoing his pants. You hear the sound of the button and zipper coming undone and then feel Soap shuffling under you to pull them down.

"Less clothes you have, the better." He replies cheekily, his hands moving to your hips now that his pants are down. You know he's taken his underwear down too because you can feel his member's tip on your butt cheek, painting it with precum. "Hop off a second and get those shorts off. Leave the underwear on."

He gives your hip a little pat, and you do as he asks, swinging your leg off him and working them down your legs. "I like these, so play nice with them." You tell him, meaning to look at his face, but the some movement draws your focus.

You gasp softly, eyes focusing on where his hand is slowly stroking himself. He's completely hard, his shaft glistening from where his hand has smeared the precum. You feel dizzy from the sudden rush of arousal that hits you.

Soap grins as he watches your face, his stokes getting a little quicker and making a lewd wet sound with each stroke. "If I ruin them I'll buy you more." He promises, a smirk in his tone as he releases his member. "Now come here." He motions with his head for you to straddle him once more.

"You better." You grumble half heartedly, feeling dazed still from the image of him stroking himself. It only makes Soap chuckle.

Moving back over to him, you place your hands on his chest to help yourself balance as you swing your leg back over him. Soap takes your hips, guiding you back to hover over his member. You move your underwear aside for him, and he does the rest, his own hand guiding his member to your entrance.

He rubs it against you a little bit, trying to find your opening. Once it catches, he pushes up, and you wince a little as his bulbous tip starts to penetrate you. You hum a little when he suddenly pops inside, and Soap pauses, his thumb rubbing against your hip to try and sooth you.

"You alright?" He asks, his eyes struggling to look up at you instead of where his member is disappearing into you.

"Yeah." You nod. "I'm good. Just gotta go slow."

Soap hums softly, relaxing his hips to let you take over. "Take your time, hen. We've got all the time in the world right now." Even despite his sweet words, his gaze is heavy.

You sit up a little bit more to get a better angle to help him slide in. The new angle works wonders, and as you lift and lower yourself onto him, you take him a little deeper each time.

Every time you sink lower, Soap's breathing starts to pick up. His eyes are focused on where you're connected, his jaw tense and his hands beginning to grip your hips. By the time you're fully seated on him, he looks like he's barely hanging on.

"Fuck..." He groans, his head falling back as you pause to adjust to him. "You're squeezin' me so tight, States. Gonna make me blow before we even get started." He chuckles breathily.

You smile down at him. "Want me to climb off for a moment so you can gather yourself?" You ask, teasing attempting to lift your hips.

You don't make it an inch up before Soap slams you back down. "Do you fucking dare." He all but growls, making you giggle again. "Start moving. Otherwise I'm flipping us." He threatens.

You roll your eyes, but his threat gets you moving. You start grinding your hips, setting a slow and smooth rhythm. It feels nice, and Soap seems to be enjoying it too. His eyes fall shut after the first few rocks, and he a soft groan leaves his lips.

After a little while, you switch up the angle, leaning forward a bit and placing your hands on Soap's chest once more. This angle makes him brush against a whole different spot inside you, pulling a moan from your lips.

Soap's eyes snap open instantly as the sound leaves your lips, and your eyes lock together. You keep rocking gently, his hands pushing and pulling at your hips to help with the motion. His gaze is so intense, and the feeling of his member and rough pubic hairs against your clit are pushing you towards the edge already.

Your body starts to shake and you squeeze your eyes shut as the burning in your clit intensifies. "Fuck... Soap..." You whisper, panting softly as your gentle rocks turn a little more desperate.

"You gonna come for me?" He asks, his voice deep and accent thick. "Almost there States, just keep rocking those pretty hips."

He coaxes you, his hips now moving under yours, thrusting along with each movement you make.

You moan again, arms growing weak, which forces you to lean down onto your elbows, closer to Soap. His lips on your throat the second you're within reach, kissing and nipping at the tender skin, hands still digging into the flesh of your hips.

"Come on, lass. You can do it. Give me one. I'm right behind ya." He groans against your throat, his hips starting to snap up.

That's all it takes. You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as the coil of pleasure tightens almost painfully low in your belly. Your entire body tenses, each thrust from Soap pushing you closer and closer until you can't hold it anymore. Your entire body tenses and then relaxes as a wave of pleasure washes over you.

A choked cry tears from your throat as you shatter around him, your body arching against his as an orgasm rips through you.

"Ahhh! John—! I'm.. I'm-" His name spills from your lips in a broken sob as your whole body pulses with pleasure. At the same time, Soap starts to snap up into you a little hard, drawing even more cries out of your lips.

It's overwhelming, mind-numbing, and all you can do is gasp and writhe atop him, every nerve ending alight as his hips continue to ram up into you.

You can hear Soap panting under you, his breath hitching every time your walls convulse around him. "Fucking hell. That's it States... that's it..." Soap pants, his eyes squeezing shut as your walls clench and flutter around him.

"Fuck! I'm gonna come!" His voice is strangled, almost hoarse. His thrusts turn into stuttering jerks as he nears his own release. "Don't stop, States! Fuck I'm so close..."

You take over, hips grinding almost wildly against him. You're starting to get overstimulated, but you don't care. You want to get him off.

"Come on, Johnny... come for me." You say through gasps, gripping his shoulders tightly as you watch his face twist into pleasure.

Soap groans loudly, his hips jerking up suddenly. He buries himself as deep as he can go, your name leaving your lips in a strangled groan. "Fuck! (Y/n)! I-I gonna.. I-"

His whole body tenses beneath you, a low, guttural groan rumbling in his chest as he spills inside you. You can feel each thick of rope shoot up into you, his length twitching and throbbing as he empties himself.

Then his hips fall back down against the blanket, and you collapse on top of him, burying your face into the side of his neck. He throws an arm around you, and for a moment, neither of you move, both caught in the aftershocks, riding out the last shivers of pleasure together.

"God, States..." He murmurs breathlessly, his fingers lazily tracing soothing patterns on your lower back. His chest heaves beneath yours, both of you still panting, bodies slick with sweat and utterly spent. He presses a lingering kiss to your temple, his lips soft and tender against your flushed skin. "Y'alright, hen?" He asks gently, voice hoarse with exhaustion.

You manage a weak nod, smiling against his neck. "Yeah... I'm good." You whisper, voice still trembling a little. "Really good."

He huffs a small, breathless laugh, the sound vibrating through his chest. "Glad you enjoyed yourself." He sighs, sounding content.

You hum gently in response, a small smile on your lips. The two of you stay like that for a while, legs tangled and wrapped up in each other's arms. His thumb continues its lazy circles along your spine, and you let out a contented sigh, relishing in the warmth and feeling of his heart beat becoming steady under your fingers.

Then he shifts slightly, and you hear him huff a breathy chuckle. "So much for stargazin', huh?" He teases softly, his voice laced with a playful warmth.

You snort. "Yeah, you're just as bad as the last guy who wanted to go stargazing with me." You can't help but grin, remembering your story from earlier. "Guess I'll never to be able to stargaze."

"Eh, we'll just have to make sure you're on the bottom next time." He replies cheekily, a grin spreading across his face.

You roll your eyes at him, but you can't help but pause. "Next time?" You echo, face turning a little more serious.

Soap gazes up at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. "Well let's be honest, there's been a lot of sexual tension between us lately. And with the history we have of having tension with each other, I'm sure there will be more."

You huff softly. "Almost sounds like you're hoping there will be more tension."

Soap grins at you. "I wouldn't mind it if it meant a pretty lass like you will bounce on my lap." He teases, reaching down to pinch your butt.

You blush a little at his words and then jolt in surprise as he pinches you, a little squeak leaving your lips. The movement makes both of you moan in discomfort, bodies still very sensitive. Once the overstimulation settles, you look back down at him.

"So... you would want to do this again?" You ask slowly, curiously.

Soap's grin softens, and he shrugs one shoulder. "Aye... I, uh, wouldn't mind it," he mutters, gaze dropping. "This. Us." He swallows, hesitating. "It's... nice. I wouldn't mind spending more time with you."

His voice is quiet, almost tentative, and you find yourself staring at him, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability in his words. It's rare to see him like this, so unsure and a little shy.

"Yeah... I wouldn't mind that either." You smile down at him, your words seeming to make him relax.

Soap smiles back at up you, his mouth opening to say something, but a shiver from you makes him pause. Now that you've come down from the high of having sex, the cool night air is beginning to bite at your sweat slicked skin. His brows furrow a bit, and he takes in the feeling of the goose pimpled skin of your thighs.

"Getting cold, lass?" He murmurs.

"Yeah... just a little." You admit, your shaky voice betraying you.

He hums thoughtfully and gives your hip a gentle squeeze. "Let's head inside then, yeah? Don't want you freezin' out here." He chuckles, rubbing your legs softly to try and warm you up a little.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." You chuckle, only now realizing that it's pitch black out. The fire has died down significantly, leaving only the moonlight.

You place your hands on Soap's chest and sit up, entire body feeling heavy. Your legs especially feel weak as you move them under you to lift yourself off him.

Your slow movements make Soap chuckle softly, his hands moving to your hips to help you up. "Legs feeling a little weak there?" He grins, helping to lift you off his cock.

There's a soft pop as his cock slips out of you, and you wince at the odd sensation. Your entire space between your legs was sticky and sore.

"Maybe." You huff softly, even as you rely on Soap to help move you off him. He just rolls his eyes and hands you your shorts.

Once you're seated beside him, you try to clean yourself up best you can before moving your underwear back into place. Meanwhile, Soap is fixing himself up too. He's tucked himself back into his underwear, pulled his pants back up, and stood up.

He looks down at you, watching as you put your shorts back on. "Head on in, lass." He tells you softly once they're on. "I'll clean up out here, put the fire out. You head inside and clean up."

"I can help." You offer, making him smile as he holds out a hand to help you up. You take it gratefully, letting him pull you to your feet. "I can get the water to put out the fire."

Soap watches you take two wobbly steps and then laughs softly. "No, it's alright, hen." He insists, grabbing your wrist to stop you. "Besides, by the time I'm done here you might have just made it to the steps." He teases, noticing your slowed pace.

He's greatly exaggerating your speed. You're not that slow, but you get the feeling he's not gonna let you help. You're afraid his next move was gonna be carrying you inside, so you cave.

"Alright." You sigh. "I'll head in. See you in a bit." You chuckle, making your way back to the cabin.

Soap watching you leave, a grin on his face as he takes a moment to admire your little post sex waddle. "Be in in a minute!" He calls after you before getting to work.

It doesn't take you nearly as long to get to the cabin as Soap seemed to imply. Once inside, the first thing you do is change out of your soiled red panties and try to freshen up a little better. Then you get a fire going in the wood stove and peak out the window to see how Soap was doing. By the time you look, the fire is out, and he's on his way back.

Moving to your bed, which is still right next to his, you wait for him come in. A second or so later, the door opens and slams shut, and his heavy footfalls come to the bedroom.

He steps into the room and shuts the door, glancing over at you and smiling a bit. The blanket you were laying on earlier is rolled up and under his arm.

"Surprised to see you made it into bed." He jokes, dropping the roll onto your cot before moving back to the door to kick his shoes off.

You huff softly, taking the roll from him as he drops it off. "We're gonna have to go a lot more rounds if the goal is to paralyze me." You mumble, unfolding the blanket and trying to spreading it out over the cots.

Soap hums deeply from the door way, glancing back at you. "Don't tempt me, States. I'll take you again right now."

Your heart jumps in your chest. His words excite you way too much. "I just put on fresh underwear. You can wait till morning." You joke, which makes him laugh.

"First thing it is then." He chuckles, starting to get himself ready for bed. Which really just involved him stripping down to nothing but his underwear. You watch as he pulls his shirt off over his head.

"You waiting on me?" He asks, glancing back over as you once it was off. He noticed that you hadn't laid down yet.

You shrug a little. "Yeah, pretty much. I've gotten used to hearing you snore at night. Can't sleep without it now."

That makes Soap scoff as he tosses his shirt on the floor. "I don't snore." He claims, undoing his pants, stepping out of them, and kicking them aside. "You're the one who snores."

You roll your eyes, watching as he walks over to you. "I'll ask Ghost when we get back. He'll agree with me that you snore." You shoot back, shrinking away just a touch as he hovers over you a bit.

There's an amused grin on his face as he takes your chin gently. "Brat." He mutters, surprising you by placing a quick peck to your lips. You hadn't been expecting that at all.

Feeling flustered, your gaze drops as you try to collect yourself, though you quickly become distracted. You've never noticed it before, but Soap's chest is littered with scars. It makes sense given his profession, but the red firelight from the stove seems to accent them more.

"Wow..." You breathe, absentmindedly reaching out to trace one. "You've got so many." You whisper, making Soap drop his hand from your chin and look down at where your fingertips traced along a long white scar on his ribs.

"Yeah." He mutters. "My job is... pretty dangerous I guess." He shrugs, continuing to watch your fingers roam without stopping them.

"Are they all from your time in the service?" You ask, looking back up at him. You've only collected a few from your time in the army. Your only non-service related scar was one on your knee from falling off your bike as a kid.

Soap shrugs a little. "Most of them. Not all of them though." He answers you, stepping away from your touch to crawl over you and onto his cod. Your bed squeaks its horrid melody as he does, and you wince at the grading sound.

Once he's settled on his cot, and once it's silent, you look back at him. The firelight illuminates just one section of his face, showing off the long jagged scar on his chin. Gently, you reach out and touch it, making Soap quickly meet your gaze.

"How'd you get this one?" You ask softly, thumb tracing the faded silver-white line.

Soap seems to tense the second you touch it, his gaze locked onto your face. When the question leaves your lips, he sighs and takes your hand, moving it away from his face.

"It's a long story, hen." He sighs, his hand holding yours in his lap. He stares down at it instead of looking at you.

"We've got all night." You reason, which makes his lips twitch the slightest bit into a smile.

"It's also a sad one." He adds, his deep voice just above a whisper. It makes you pause, and you quickly notice the slumped posture he has suddenly.

"I'm a very empathetic person." You add softly, which makes him laugh softly. "But we also don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." You add.

Soap is silent for a moment, almost as if he's debating if he wants to talk or not. After a few minute long seconds, he finally sighs. "My... my childhood wasn't the best, States..."

@the-faceless-bride @venavanup @hotthankss @daemondoll @thepowers-kat-be

161 notes · View notes

death---dealer · 6 months ago

Note

If reader survived such an accident, he would make sure that whenever she would travel alone, his eagle would accompany her (wether she knew it or not).

I'm almost.... oh my god okay okay okay okay okay listen you tempted me with this i need to do it for the greater good

Noa, Eagle Sun / Reader Headcanons - Interactions.

Your relationship with Eagle Sun started out the same way that the Eagle's relationship was with Noa at the start of the movie. Very rough around the edges, the bird was very unsure of you, not sure how to view your relationship with his Master. He clawed at you a few times out of defense when you got too close to Noa when he was perched on his shoulder; sensing it to be a threat rather than you just wanting to embrace the Ape. You swore that bird was never going to hear the end of it from Noa as he scolded him like a child. ~*You felt so bad for him and tried to pet his beak after Noa told him to back off ( in simple terms ) but he just squawked loudly and you were fast to hide behind Anaya and Soona who were watching the entire thing happen with the utmost amusement. He flapped his wings in your general direction again causing you to cower even further. ~*Followed by more scolding from Noa as he tried his hardest to explain to the bird that you were not a threat, you were more than allowed to be in Noa's space. He just blinked innocently - those little beady eyes staring holes into you.

It didn't take long for him to warm up to you though; you offered him a bit of fish once and he took it graciously. Noa told you not to do that, but you did it anyway.

Began bringing you berries to eat as an acceptance of you, an acknowledgment of the treat you had given him. Noa thought it was nice until he was absolutely nailed between the eyes by a rather quickly flying blueberry.

He began following you happily at that point, surely from Noa's commands, but he was a happy bird regardless. All around the village, in the woods, by the creek. Eagle Sun very often was either over head soaring or perched against a tree branch, you in his sight. ~* It just meant that you were trusted, good natured and more than decent to follow around - Noa had told you how intuitive the birds were and you accepted his following as a small compliment in Eagle form.

If you were with Noa, Eagle Sun was often sitting on his Master's shoulder, peering at you, waiting diligently for a command from Noa. If there were no immediate commands, Eagle Sun would jump over to you, never on you, but right in front of you and beckon you to pet. ~* You comply, placing a pointer and middle finger against the birds head and giving him a small pet. He's responsive, will peck at your fingers for more if you pull away too soon. ~* Noa could have sworn that one time while you were giving some affection to his bird that Eagle Sun looked right at him and almost mocked him. Noa told you of this but you told him it simply wasn't true. That he must have been imagining things.

The first time that Eagle Sun ever landed on you was in part to Noa who urged you to try it out - Hopeful to see if you were comfortable with it. He just got out of a council meeting where the prospect of you getting your own Eagle, to be bonded with an egg, was a hot topic of conversation. First though, before the final decision was made, Noa needed to see if you had any fear ( much like the fear Noa had at the beginning. ) ~* Eagle Sun did not land on your arm like you had hoped - He landed on your shoulder, placing himself rather precariously on you to the point where he shuttered for balance. His tiny claws grasped onto you a bit harder than you would have liked- but not enough to draw blood yet. His tiny beak went down, then back up with a few strands of your hair. You didn't move, you couldn't as your eyes shifted to Noa, Anaya and Soona. You questioned with your eyes what you were supposed to do- You had no idea why he landed there when you had so diligently offered your arm. Well, Noa thinks to himself, at least you're not afraid of him anymore.

#noa #noa x reader #noa pota #planet of the apes #planet of the apes x reader #emmy writes #a blurb lol #eagle sun

170 notes · View notes

chelseeebe · 1 year ago

Text

and i’d follow (wherever you may go)

uhhh apocalypse au anyone? i literally have the second part to this basically ready to go and wanted to post this as a little feeler.. if i’m honest i’ll probably post the other part n e ways lmfao

weird fishes/ arpeggi - radiohead (read the lyrics babes)

₊ ⊹

steve had stumbled across your makeshift camp while out checking the traps, and he was honestly just going to leave it be and disappear back to the school but you’d caught him with his pants down.

‘what’re you doing?’ your voice startling him from somewhere behind, by the time he turns to see who’s speaking, your gun is drawn, pointed right between his eyes.

his breathing stills, one hand on his pocket, trying, and failing, to indiscreetly grab his own gun without you noticing.

‘don’t,’ you bite, moving your gun down toward his hand, ‘i’ll shoot you,’ face hardened, covered in muck from the overgrown forest. you’re not scared, at least not that he can see, you’ve done this before.

‘okay.. okay,’ he soothes, holding his hands in the air in surrender, ‘i was just..’ his breath shaky as he inches away from the trap, painstakingly slow, ‘i was checking the traps.. i didn’t know you were here,’ he has no doubt that you would shoot him so he doesn’t dare try and run.

‘traps?’ you question, ‘who are you with?’

he shakes his head, unsure of whether telling you would be a bad idea or if it might save his life, ‘there’s a group of us.. at the school a mile or so away,’ his lips suddenly incredibly dry, ‘if you lower your gun i can take you.. we have supplies,’ you don’t look like you’re in dying need of anything except a good shower, which he can definitely offer.

there’s some dried blood on your arm but he can’t see it clear enough to know whether it’s old or a fresh injury.

‘no,’ your jaw taut, finger still on the trigger as steve attempts to bargain for his life, ‘i want your gun.’

his mouth falls open, hopper had just trusted him enough to go out on his own with one, he wasn’t keen on the idea of letting you just take it and then gun him down. but really, what other choice did he have?

‘how do i know you’re not gonna shoot me with it?’

‘you don’t.’

he blinks at your brutal honesty, fingers shaking as they reach for the gun, slowly pulling it out from his pocket and tossing it to your feet, ‘let me take you to the school,’ trying again at his incredibly weak offer, ‘we can help you.’

your foot pulls the pistol towards you, bending quickly to grab the gun while still aiming your own right at his head. sliding his into the back of your pants, ‘i don’t think so,’ you take a step towards him and that’s when he gets a clear look at the gash on your arm, if nancy’s skills had taught him anything, he could definitely tell that it was infected.

‘your arm.. we have medicine too,’ he nods towards the cut. it’s a different world now, he knows that, but he wishes you weren’t quite so stubborn so he could at least help.

you scoff, pointing the gun at the clearing in the woods, ‘go,’ eyes narrowed as sweat seeps from his pores, ‘don’t bother coming back.. i’m not staying,’ stepping over broken twigs toward your tent.

steve doesn’t hesitate, making off quickly. he glances back a few times, shaking his head as you stand there, gun still pointed at him even when you’re a tiny dot in beneath the trees.

hopper is understandably pissed when he makes it back, giving him a small thump to his arm when he admits you’d taken the gun and he hadn’t been able to check the traps properly.

he tries to tell them not to go back, that you’ll have moved on by now anyway but it’s useless. hopper assures him that they’re just going to make sure you’ve gone.. nothing else. though he doesn’t quite believe it.

steve knows it’s bad news when your tent is still there in the clearing, if you had any brains about you, you’d have gone as soon as he disappeared from the forest.

‘oh shit,’ nancy swears, dropping to her knees as she enters the tent.

as steve nears, he can see your lifeless body lying on the makeshift floor, both guns laid out around your head. you’re insanely lucky to have not been chewed to bits.

‘she’s breathing but her arm.. it’s infected, bad,’ nancy looks back at both him and hopper, ‘we need to get her back to the school now.’

hopper frowns, reaching over to pick up steve’s gun before pocketing yours, ‘you think we can trust her?’ he glares at steve, holding the gun just out of his reach.

‘yeah.. yeah i think so,’ he nods quickly, he wasn’t entirely sure about it but it was between that or letting you die and he sure as hell wasn’t gonna let that happen.

‘it’s on your head if anything happens,’ hopper barks, shoving the gun into steve’s chest, ‘don’t make me regret giving you this back.’

you laid in what once was the nurses office for days, nancy tending to your arm every so often, ensuring that the infection was disappearing.

steve’s not there when you wake, but he’s told that it wasn’t easy. kicking up a fight the second you come round, hopper has to restrain you to the bed before it turns into a full blown disaster.

when steve makes his way to the makeshift infirmary, you’re staring daggers at the wall, a deep frown painted on your face. ‘i knew it was you.. i should’ve just killed you when i had the chance,’ you mutter through clenched teeth, brows furrowed.

at least you looked a lot cleaner now, nancy must’ve given you a sponge bath while you slept.

‘i’m sorry.. i told them to leave it alone but you were.. well i thought you were dead,’ steve exclaims, hovering by the door just in case you decided to kill him now.

you sigh, your eyes aren’t quite so hard now, instead they brim with tears, ‘maybe that’s what i wanted? now i’m here with a buncha’ people i don’t know, waiting to see if they’ll kill me.’

‘we’re not gonna kill you,’ steve’s face scrunches up. people were certainly pretty barbaric now but christ, they hadn’t sunk that low yet. at least he hadn’t. ‘you’ll be free to go when you’re better.. nancy just wants to make sure that your arm’s healed before you leave.’

you don’t respond, turning your gaze back to the wall as the tears spill over. steve’s maybe not the best at picking up social cues but even he can tell that you don’t want him there anymore, slipping out of the door with his head hung low before he manages to piss you off any more.

it’s another few days before there’s more news on your condition, nancy’s sure that the antibiotics were working and in just a couple days you’d be on your way. hopper’s not so keen on the idea of just letting you run off, you obviously had at least half a mind to keep yourself alive this long, so maybe it wasn’t exactly wise to let you go back to wherever, with god knows who.

‘she can stay, can’t she?’ steve questions at their little meeting, joyce and hopper wanted to get everyone’s opinions on board before making the decision.

‘if she wants to,’ joyce offers, smiling softly at steve, ‘but i don’t think she does, sweetie.. that’s why we’re stuck.’

after a lot of deliberation, the majority of them agreed that it’s only fair to let you go. they’d brought you here unwillingly and they couldn’t exactly tell you that they weren’t going to let you leave.

and now here he sat, heart breaking into two as he prods the fork into the lukewarm can of beans after you’ve told him you’re going to leave after everything you’ve been through.

‘you knew that i wasn’t going to stay here forever,’ you sigh, still picking at the bag of jerky steve had brought to your room.

because even after nancy had cleared you and hopper had determined that you weren’t really a threat, you stayed. slowly, and he truly means slowly, warming up to his friends, to him. in fact, you’d proved to be quite the opposite to what he’d first thought. you were soft and kind and yeah, a little bit of an asshole but you were now in the rotation of people he cares about.

you laughed at robin’s shitty puns, listened to salvaged mixtapes with jonathan and will and had even started going on supply runs with hopper, an honour even steve hadn’t earned yet.

those words are enough to make him stop eating, staring over at you from the ratty old chair. a few months ago, he would’ve never expected to feel so shocked actually, he might’ve even celebrated. steve had been the very last person you opened up to, which was really no surprise considering the circumstances under which you’d met.

but when it had happened, one night after dinner, steve could’ve jumped with joy. it was silly, looking back, you’d nudged him and told him to come to your room later. all to present him with a new coat, something you’d found while out with hopper.

‘i’m sick of that dirty old jacket you keep wearing,’ you said, a hint of a smile on your lips. the first time steve had ever seen it directed towards him.

that had been the first of many exchanges, usually little things like soap and hairspray that you’d bring him. initially, steve had thought that your newfound relationship was purely transactional, that you were doing this for everyone. like anyone would be, he was sceptical. it was only when dustin outwardly complained about all of his new things that he realised this was something you were only doing for him.

he didn’t have much to offer back, though he’d somehow always manage to jack some extra food from the kitchen. quickly learning what you liked, ensure that nancy made sure to keep the tinned peaches stocked. they were your favourite.

‘can you at least speak to me?’ you start, breaking him from his daydream.

the candle flickers, the deep orange light casting a hue over the old classroom, ‘don’t go,’ is all he can muster up. it’s pathetic and if he sounded as sad as he did in his head, he wouldn’t be surprised if you started laughing at him.

you sigh again, ‘i have to.’

maybe steve had known deep down that you weren’t going to stay. he’d just pushed the possibility of it ever happening out of his head, preferring to live in his delusions. the thing is, steve’s not sure if you’re just friends anymore.

at some point, he’d moved his things to the adjacent classroom, begging dustin to swap with him so he could be closer. most nights, he wasn’t even sleeping in there, opting to bring his sleeping bag in here and sleep just a few feet away from you instead.

perhaps he had just been starved of attention for too long but he was sure that at least some of the looks you shared weren’t something friends did. would you really risk your life just to grab his favourite soap if you were just friends? maybe. but steve didn’t think so.

‘where’re you gonna go?’ there’s nothing out there for anyone anymore. this, the school, was the best shot at survival any of you had. he doesn’t even want to imagine the shit that awaited outside of the hawkins boundary.

‘i dunno..’ you shrug, not quite meeting his eye, ‘north i guess,’ picking at your already broken nails, a habit steve had noticed just a few weeks into your stay. it was really only when you were nervous.

‘north? it’s getting colder.. you’ll freeze.’

you shake your head, pulling your legs in closer, ‘i have to go steve, my parents are- were.. in minneapolis, i have to know if they’re okay.’

he looks down at the floor, he doesn’t understand and probably never will. his parents were out of town when everything happened and if he were to be truly honest with himself, he was relieved. he didn’t.. hate them but he was infinitely better off without them. his heart hurt a little thinking about his mom at least, but his dad.. steve didn’t possess a remorseful bone in his body for that man.

‘it’s a long way.. maybe we can find you a car,’ he looks back at you, lump growing in his throat, ‘just a few more weeks.. can’t you do that?’ he’s almost pleading now, begging you to stay right here. with him.

‘no,’ shaking your head slowly, it’s hurting you too, ‘i can’t not know if they’re still alive any longer.. i miss my mom, steve,’ your voice cracking.

‘but..’ he trails off, not sure where he was even going with his sentence, ‘let me come with you,’ it slips out of his mouth before he can even think about it properly.

truthfully, he wouldn’t mind it. sure, the people here were his family but they weren’t really. they all had their own, actual family with them. joyce had hopper and her boys, nancy had mike and even robin had helped her parents to safety. he was the outsider.

as were you, of course.

‘you don’t mean that,’ you sigh, looking pitifully at him.

‘yes i do,’ he straightens up, features hardening. why wouldn’t he mean it?

you shake your head, sighing once again, you’ve done an awful lot of that tonight and steve doesn’t like it. ‘you have people here that need you.. i can’t let you leave them behind for me.. that’s not fair.’

steve stands now, frustrated and upset all over again, ‘no, what’s not fair is you deciding what i can and can’t do,’ his words shock you enough to frown at him, ‘i want to go with you. they don’t need me.. they have each other, but who do you have?’

your mouth opens and subsequently shuts again. averting your gaze as he steps closer. he knows, or at least he thinks he knows what you want to say.

he continues on, ‘you don’t have to do this alone, i can’t-,’ swallowing the words before he gains the courage to speak them aloud, ‘i can’t let you do this alone.’

the room falls silent, the air still as he walks over to your chair, crouching down in front of your shying face.

‘steve..’ you speak quietly, braving a look at him after what felt like an eternity, ‘if my parents are still there then.. i don’t know if i’d ever come back here.’

he searches your face, looking for something, anything to tell him to do what he wants to do. like an idiot, he goes against his better judgement and does it anyway, placing a soft hand on your cheek, keeping your chin tilted towards him.

‘i don’t care,’ he states rather flatly, ‘i want to go with you,’ eyes falling from yours to your lips, ‘if you’ll let me.’

you take your bottom lip between your teeth, biting at the chapped skin. it wasn’t an easy decision, steve can acknowledge that but if you weren’t willing to stay, he’d risk it all to follow you anyway. reflecting on the past few months had left him feeling confused, unsure of what your relationship truly meant but he thinks he knows now. he’s sure of it.

‘okay,’ you breathe and if he weren’t inches from your face, he most likely wouldn’t have even heard it. his lips become the focus of your gaze, inching forward so painstakingly slow that he almost wants to just mash your faces together.

when your lips eventually connect, it’s as if the planets had aligned, everything clicking into place in his mind. steve presses forward, almost losing his balance from his crouched position, using your knee to steady himself.

you pull back, still keeping incredibly close, lips grazing against his as you speak, ‘i don’t want to regret that..’ serving more as a warning than anything else.

but steve understands, in the realest terms, you two were still essentially strangers. he didn’t know what school you went to or how you liked your coffee, though he supposes those things don’t matter now. because he did know how you liked tinned peaches and how you like your tongue out when you’re concentrating. those things were what was important now.

‘you won’t,’ he breathes, vision blurring as he gazes into your eyes, ‘i promise.’

hopper peeks his head into the classroom the next morning, expecting to find the usual sight of you and steve barely awake and groggy but seperate, instead steve’s cradled into your back, arm wrapped tightly around your waist as you slept.

he’s about to wake the both of you for breakfast but decides against it, maybe in his bitter old heart you two reminded him of joyce and himself.

when you do eventually rise, it’s an hour after everyone else had eaten and started their duties. the echoes of dustin screeching about something pull steve from the best sleep he’d had in months, hell, maybe even years.

‘i’m gonna tell them today..’ you start, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, ‘you can still say no.’

‘i’m not doing that,’ steve asserts, brushing the hair from your face. he regularly saw you in this state but something about today felt different, like you were finally allowing yourself to show that softer side to him.

you nod, smiling gently at him from the flat camping pillow.

as suspected, the news doesn’t go great.

hopper tries a similar tactic to steve, offering to find a car for the pair of you. dustin is downright hysterical, arms flying everywhere as he lists off a number of reasons you shouldn’t leave. but joyce.. joyce just nods, giving you both that sincere smile that made steve feel all warm inside.

and he knows that she’d probably do the same for her sons, a few years back when will had gone missing, she had turned the world upside down just to find him.

there’s a sort of longing in steve’s chest that makes him wish for someone that he’d do that for and just maybe he’d found it.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #stranger things x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff

245 notes · View notes

flippinpancakes64 · 5 months ago

Note

Going camping with the Cullens!

Going camping with the Cullens

Thank you for requesting!

Also I normally write on my computer and I wrote this all on my phone so sorry if the formatting is weird I tried my best💀

But at least I can use emojis

Edward:

He would really enjoy camping

He thinks it’s super romantic to share a tent, go on hikes, gaze up at the stars

I mean he’s already a pretty outdoorsy guy

They kind of all are

Of course if you’re a human he gives you all of the piggyback rides

He might get a little self conscious about his sparklyness

Just tell him you think he’s pretty ❤️

Anyway

His favorite parts would be hiking on the trails

Or on trails he makes himself

Alice:

I don’t see her being one to suggest going camping

But she won’t say no

Her idea of a fun date with you is playing dress up with all of her clothes

She has fun either way

I feel like she’d love birdwatching

Of course she doesn’t need binoculars

“Oh look there goes a blue-footed boobie!”

She’s also really good at making flower crowns

Jasper:

Camping reminds him of his days as a soldier in the west

It’s bittersweet for him

He misses his past in that sort of nostalgic way yk

So I think he’d like camping

And it would be fun for him to let loose a little

He 100% is staring at you while you sleep in the tent

Pulling an Edward move

His favorite part is just taking in the scenery

I feel like he’d have a lot of knowledge about the different plants

“You can eat that one… if you want to, of course”

Rosalie:

This wasn’t her first option

But you said you wanted to go so she went

I don’t think she’s high maintenance

But she doesn’t see the appeal of a tent

Even if she doesn’t need to sleep

But she goes anyway

Her favorite part ends up being cuddling by the fire

She lives vicariously through you and makes you roast like 20 marshmallows

And eat them of course

Emmett:

Yeah he loves it

He thrives out in nature

He loves all of it

The tent, the fire, the woods, the animals, the plants

He just has so much fun

You were hiking and said that you were tired and wanted to sit for a sec so he pushed over a tree to make you a spot to sit

Just because he could

Please take him out here more often

Esme:

Another one who loves it

Not that she’s trapped in the house or anything

But she doesn’t go to school

And she doesn’t work

So she loves leaving when she can

And she loves to fish

Her dad used to take her fishing and she loves it

But she catches them and throws them back

“We don’t need them anyway”

Carlisle:

It’s not his first choice

Yes he was the one who started the whole Cullen Camping thing when it’s sunny

But that’s mostly for the others

To blow off steam yk

But he’s been so well trained for so long

I mean he doesn’t even flinch at human blood

He doesn’t need to run around

That being said he will go with you though

His favorite part ends up being swimming in a lake

Every time you go camping he insists on camping near a lake

Vampire! Bella:

She’s not a fan

She wasn’t an outdoors person when she was human

She’s not an outdoors person now

Even though she doesn’t need it, she prefers a soft bed and AC

You might have to drag her out there

But she would end up having fun

Her favorite part would be stargazing

If you know anything about astrology or stars she is all ears

104 notes · View notes

xetlynn · 7 months ago

Text

Twilight- Unknown: Chapter Seven, The Battle

(Alice x Reader x Jasper)

[six] [seven, end of The Eclipse]

Later that night, Bella asked for a sleepover like old times. It shocked me at first. I was expecting her to ask more questions about my past lives but surprisingly she didn't.

We just watched movies together, eating popcorn. Maybe a random question about what it was like being a vampire.

She was sound asleep after the second movie. I decided to watch a few others but in the middle of the night she swings her fist, hitting me right in the arm. "Bella? What happened?" I woke her up, she breathed heavily, her heart racing.

"The intruder... The newborn army. They're all her puppets. Victoria." She says out of order and I raise a brow. "Alice or I would've seen if she wanted to make an army." I argue. "Unless she's hiding behind them, and she's letting someone else decide. Maybe she found out how you guy's visions work." She explains, I sit a little straight. Considering it.

"Trust me, I hope what you're saying is true and that it's her. I'll speak to the Cullen's about it, go back to sleep." I tell her, she nods her head. "We'll talk more about it tomorrow." I assured her since she seemed like she wanted more from the conversation.

I told Edward about it over the phone, now he's changed his mind about Bella being allowed to be even near the fight. Knowing she's a huge target. He's so serious about it he wants Jacob to help him with his idea.

We stand in the woods together. Jasper, Edward, Bella, Jacob, and I. Jacob goes away with Bella in his arms. Us three wait here.

"Okay, go ahead." Edward nods to us. Jasper and I take each other's hands and smell for my sister. Nothing comes about, only Jacob's wolf smell.

"All we picked up was wolf stench. No Bella. This will work." Jasper tells his brother who seems relieved. "Great."

"Okay, Alice, don't be a stranger." My dad waves to my girlfriend as Bella gets out of her truck, confused. "Okay." Alice grins. I see Bella's surprised face.

"Your alibis for the battle is all arranged." She says, pulling me into a small kiss. Holding onto my waist. "Really?" Bella asks.

"I told your guy's father that our whole family's going camping this weekend. So you two are having a sleepover with me. Charlie is going fishing anyway." Alice simply tells us.

I'm surprised he went for it since I am dating Alice but it's probably because Bella will be there and he doesn't think I would do that around my sister. Which I wouldn't... Just in the woods...

"Charlie? You guys are on the same name basis now?" Bella questions. "Yeah, that's crazy." I add in with a little chuckle.

"Me, he likes. Actually, you and Edward will have the house to yourself tonight." Alice smirks at my sister. "Like alone?" "We're all going hunting. Powering up for the battle. You're welcome." She smiles, walking me to her car and we stand there.

"I'm going hunting?" I raise a brow.

"Well, we can go away from the others, of course." She flirts, pulling me closer by my neck to kiss my lips. "Mm, I guess so." I kissed her once more.

"I'll see you later, lovebug." She tells me, opening her car door. "Can't wait." I wink, walking away to join Bella again, going inside our house.

"Hey. Do either of you want a sandwich?" Charlie asks us. "No, I'm good." Bella says. "I'll take one." I yawn.

"Well, the sister. [Name]'s girlfriend. I like." He points to me and I smile, Bella playfully rolls her eyes.

"Alice, yeah. She's great." My sister agrees. She moves over to the sink to start washing the dishes. "Hey, dad. I was wondering. Why didn't you get remarried, after mom?" She asks him suddenly. I look over to him, he seems a little stunned by the question but nonetheless he answers it.

"I don't know... Guess I still haven't met the right gal. Why?"

"I don't know. I thought you just... Maybe you gave up on the whole institution of it. Of marriage. But do you think there's any value in it?" She rambles a little bit. I scrunch my face in where she's going with this.

"Yeah, yeah marriage has value. When you're older. Much older. Like your mother. It seems to work out fine for her the second time around. Later in life." He says.

"Yeah, I guess." She shrugs.

"You definitely don't wanna have to get married because you weren't careful." He tells her and I snort out a laugh, getting a small glare from both of them. "What?" She huffs.

"Look, you know what I'm talking about. Both of you should listen. There's things that you need to think about if you're gonna be physically intimate." He begins, both Bella and I groan.

"Not the talk." I complain. "Oh don't, it's just as embarrassing for me as it is for you two." He tells us. "I doubt that. And don't bother because mom beat you to it like ten years ago." Bella tries to stop him.

"Well, you two didn't have partners ten years ago." Charlie defends.

"I'm sure things work the same way." Bella shakes her head. "Alright, so you guys are taking precautions and-"

"Okay, dad. Please don't worry about that with me. Edward is old school." Bella admits to him. I see my dad perk up a bit.

"Old school, great. What's that? Like code for something?" He questions her. "Oh my God. Dad. I'm a virgin." She blurts out.

"Okay, good. Glad we covered that." He sighs. "Me too."

"Virgin...Liking Edward a little bit more now." He says and that makes a mortified Bella bolt for the door. I laugh quietly.

"I wouldn't laugh [Name] I still gotta talk to you." He points to me and I smirk.

"I'm a virgin too." I lied to him, why would I tell my dad I've had sex? Do I look stupid to you?

"Good, Cullens are getting on my good side today." He mutters and I shake my head, leaving the room.

Later that night Bella had left to go to the Cullen's house as I was joining the others during their hunting.

The whole time my mind was away from everything. Thinking about how the fight is going to go down. How I have to use my wolf form during it. I've been practicing with Sam but it hasn't been easy. It's been the complete opposite.

I can't get used to using it. It doesn't feel right.

I want to let the others know I don't think I'm going to turn but I know that would only upset them. They're busy hunting right now though so I've just been climbing through the trees.

Watching the view above. It's a scene I don't think I could fully appreciate as a human. I mean I can see further so there's that.

"[Name], darling." I heard Jasper speak, startling me since I wasn't paying attention. I jumped down from the tree.

"Yes?" I innocently ask, smiling at him. "I have something to talk to you about." He admits, I tilt my head. Not saying anything, just letting him continue on. "So, the battle." He starts then immediately pauses. "Mhm." I hum out.

"We've come to the conclusion that you should be with Bella. Away from the fight. Edward thinks it's best that it's another person protecting Bella up on the mountain. And then he and Jacob will be-" "Pause." I laugh out loud.

"I'm getting put with the weird love triangle?" I question, a little offended that they're making me do this. "I don't want to but yes." He nods his head shamefully.

I stare at him for a moment. Calming myself before I speak. I understand where they're coming from and it won't hurt to be up there. I'm confident in my family to get it done without even getting hurt. They're strong.

"Okay, I'll do it. Only because it does help me make sure my sister is safe. The only thing is I won't know if you and Alice are." I frown, grabbing his hand.

"Alice thought of that. You're a hybrid, you can hear everything from a distance." He tells me. "If one of us gets hurt you'll hear it and you can come a runnin." He smiles. I shrug my shoulders letting out a long breath.

"I guess, if I hear anything of your two's distress I will be there." I warned him. "Understandable, darlin." He kisses my lips shortly.

In the morning I'm waiting for Bella and Edward as Bella spread little drops of blood around the woods. "You're going overboard." I heard Edward say.

"If this is all I can contribute, I want to be thorough." My sister tells him. "The newborns will be frantic. Now let me put a bandage on that." He tells her. "It doesn't bother me anymore." He adds and I'm a little confused on why he said that. "Since when?" My sister asks.

"Since I spent 24 hours thinking you were dead." "You're not wearing your ring." Mm now I understand. "Well, I didn't want to risk losing it." She simply says. "Or risk Jacob seeing?"

"I think we should wait to tell him. I mean, at least till after the fight." I can't believe I found out they were engaged this way. "If you're having second thoughts..."

"I'm not. I just want him to have a clear head." Bella assures him. I hear Jacob come into play so I walk towards them as well.

"Whose head is unclear?" Jake asks. "Nobody's I hope." My sister says. "Alice says there's a storm coming." Edward announces.

"I can feel it." I stare up at the sky. "Me too, we should get going." Jacob says. "I'll take the longer route. But I'll get there first. Set up camp." Edward tells Jacob and I who nod our heads in understanding. He turns to my sister and kisses her before leaving.

"I have to turn. I'm not getting carried by you, sorry Jake." I apologize unsincerely. "Understandable." He waves me off. "Here. So I have something to change into." I hand a small bag to Bella.

I go off into the woods, taking off my shirt and pants before transforming into my wolf form.

I meet them up at the mountain, beating Jacob and Bella by a few minutes. Edward covers me in a blanket as I transform back into my regular form.

"Jesus, I'm glad I have the wolf heat." I let out a small shiver. He laughs. "Here." Bella hands me my bag and I thank her before going into the tent.

I quickly changed. I hear them talking but I don't pay much mind to it. Not really caring enough to do so. "You guys can come in now."

Late in the night the storm gets worse and worse meaning it's only colder. Bella's freezing, her teeth chattering can be heard miles away.

"I should have chosen a site lower down." Edward frowns. "No, it's fine. I'm okay." Bella assures him. "What can I do?" He asks. She only shakes her head. The zipper opens, revealing Jacob.

"I can't sleep with all that teeth chattering going on." He chuckles. "Forget it." Edward stops him. "She may need her toes someday and let's face it. I'm hotter than you and [Name] here." He begins to crawl to Bella's side but Edward's hand is suddenly hard on his shoulder.

"Get your hand off me." Jacob warns him. "Get your hands off her."

"Don't fight." Bella says, still shivering. Edward notices how cold she looks and pulls his hand away. "Ashe gets sick, it's on you." Jacob tells him. Edward glances at me and I nod my head.

"Just let him, it will help her." He closes his eyes, letting Jacob do it. "Why, You're freezing, Bella. relax , you'll warm up soon. Faster if you took your clothes off." He jokes around. I make a disgusted expression.

"Jake." Bella warns him to stop. "Survival one oh one." He sighs. Edward glares at him. This is going to be a long night.

I lay in the corner of the tent in my own sleeping bag. I slowly fall asleep, luckily just missing the conversation Jacob and Edward have.

In the morning Bella and I climbed out of the tent. We're met with the young wolf, Seth sitting there. Staring at us. "Hi, Seth." Bella waves to him. I give the boy a small smile who huffs in response as a little hello.

"Where's Jacob? Did he already..." "Not yet." Edward cuts off her sentence. "He's checking to see if the woods are clear before he goes." He tells her, wrapping an arm around her and that makes Seth job off.

"I'm really sorry about last night. That couldn't have been easy for you." Bella begins and that's my cue to leave the scene.

I joined Seth up above from where he was. It's boring up here. I wish I argued with Jasper and stayed to fight but I knew it would've made way more problems than what it's worth. I don't want to argue with them anymore.

After a while passes I know that Jacob joined them. I listen to the fighting down below. I focus on Jasper and Alice's voices, their grunts and orders to each other. I wish I could be there with them. I hear Alice and Jasper fighting one of the same newborns.

"Jasper- back off- you can't be everywhere at- watch out!" I hear Edward shout to the air, knowing they couldn't hear him. I hear Alice tell Jasper she can handle themselves.

I stand up to go join but Edward's already at my side stopping me. "He's alright. She is too. You can't join." He tells me and I glare up at him.

"Like hell I can't." I push past him but he only speeds in front of me once again. "Not yet." He tells me. Then we both stop. We share a look with Seth.

"Someone's hurt?" Bella asks us. "Seth, go." I ordered him. He bolts away from the campsite. "Is it Jasper?" She asks another question.

"She's close. I can hear her thoughts. She knew we weren't there but she caught mine and [Name]'s scent." He explains. I stand close to Bella, he stands in front of her. "She knew Bella would be with me. She thinks she's lucky with [Name]." He translated her thoughts out loud to us.

"She found us." Bella whispers.

"She's not alone." I add in. Then a boy, the missing one from the papers, steps out of the woods.

"Riley, listen to me. Victoria's just using you, to distract me, But she knows I'll kill you." Edward tells the boy who looks shocked at first. He hesitates. "In fact, she'll be glad she doesn't have to deal with you anymore." He tries to convince the boy, knowing it's the truth but he of course doesn't know that. Victoria emerges out of the woods.

"Don't listen, Riley. I told you about their mind tricks." She tells the boy, who is obviously easily influenced. "I can read her mind, so I know what she thinks about you." Edward tells him.

"He's lying." Victoria argues. "She only created you and this army to avenge her true mate, James. It's the only thing she cares about. Not you." Edward says.

"There's only you. You know that." Victoria says after seeing the hesitation in Riley. He focuses back on us. Positioning to attack. Victoria's eyes meet with Bella's, filled with bloodlust and revenge.

"Think about it. You're from Forks. You know the area. That's the only reason she chose you. She doesn't love you." Edward was a bit more harsh with his choice of words. Riley falters slightly. "Riley, don't let him do this to us. You know I love you." Victoria forms her face to be more emotional. Somehow convincing the boy.

"You're dead." Riley attacks Edward.

Seth leaps from the cliff above and lands on Riley taking a chunk out of hus hand. He screams in pain. Seth circles back for another attack. Edward starts toward Victoria as I hold onto Bella making sure she's not able to be touched. Victoria goes to escape but Edward darts in her path.

"You can escape. You always do. But you won't get another chance like this again." Edward threatens her choices. She hisses back at him, backing further away.

"You want her. You want [Name]. You want me, Jasper and Alice to feel the pain you felt when we killed James. When we tore him into pieces. Then turned him into ash. When I turned him into nothing." Edward edges her on. Which it works. She erupts and charges toward Bella and I.

I hold onto Bella before running out of the way. Edward intercepts her plan and they roll down the hill.

We watch Seth get kicked down the cliff. Riley spins toward us. To help Edward I push Bella back and grab Riley myself. As we fought together he got me into a headlock. Edward fighting with Victoria seemed a little hopeless.

That was until Bella stabs her arm with a shard of some rock slate.

They stop going towards the smell. I take the arm that was around my neck and rip it off. A loud screeching noise because of it.

I toss the arm to the side and Seth leaps up, tackling Riley. Dragging him into the woods. "Victoria! Victoria!" Riley screams but the redhead does nothing, not even giving him another glance. We hear the screeching of his head getting torn off by Seth.

Edward charges towards Victoria, the two clash and begin to fight. It was fast.

He pummels her down and has himself behind her, holding her in a death grip. She struggles glaring at Bella and I. I ripped my shirt and tied it around Bella's wound tightly. Edward bares his teeth and bites a chunk from her neck, ripping her head off.

"Edward." Bella says, going towards him as she tries to touch him but he turns away. "I didn't want you to see that."

"I'll get some bandages for your arm." He starts for the tent but Seth lets out a small howl.

"Something's wrong." Bella says. "Alice needs us." I tell them. "And now." Edward agrees. "Why? What's happening?" Bella asks.

A massive fire burns when we show up. The Cullens and the wolves drag what's left of the newborns into the fire. "How long?" Edward asks.

"A few minutes. Maybe ten." Alice tells us. "They timed their arrival well." Rosalie joins in. "Probably hoping the newborns took a few of us out." Emmett spits.

"What's she doing here?" Edward points to the newborn girl behind them.

"We offered her safe haven if she stopped fighting. She took it." Esme tells him. "The pack needs to leave. The Volturi won't honor a truce with the werewolves." Carlisle speaks up.

"Where's Jacob?" Bella asks. "There." Edward points to the large world but then he hears a vampire behind him. Leah charges.

"Leah, don't!" Edward shuts but it's too late. The newborn grabs her ruff, yanking her off of her paws but Jacob leaps onto him tackling him. He tries to bite the newborn but it gets its arms around Jacob, crushing him. Jacob howls in agony. I wince at the sight.

"Jacob!" Bella screams. The other wolves pounce on the newborn, pulling him apart.

Edward and Carlisle appear to Jacob's side. Jacob is back to his human form. His face contorted and looked like he could barely breathe.

"Hold on, carlisle is gonna take care of you." Edward tells the boy. "The bones on the right half of his body are shattered." Carlisle tells everyone. Jacob squeezes Edward's hand. Bella reaches them, dropping to her knees and she strokes his face. "Bella." He huffs out. "Jake, I'm right here." She says.

"Jacob, you idiot. I had it." Leah tells him, saddened by what happened and obviously feeling guilt. "Leah." Sam states, basically telling her not now.

"I need to set the bones before his accelerated healing kicks in. It's already starting." Carlisle says. "We need to get him out of here. We;re not gonna win in a fight with the Volturi." Edward orders,

"We'll take him back to Billy's." Sam nods. "I'll be there as soon as I can." Carlisle assures them. "Hand in there, Jake. We got you." Bella touches him one last time.

Jacob cries out in pain as the pack lifts him.

"They're here." Alice speaks up. I stand between Jasper and her. "It appears you've done our work for us." Jane comes into view out of the smoke.

"Impressive. I've never seen a coven escape an assault of this magnitude intact." Jane raises a brow. "We were lucky." Carlisle smiles.

"I doubt that." Jane hums. "It appears we missed an entertaining fight." Alec frowns in disappointment. "Yes, it's not often rendered unnecessary."

"If you'd arrived a half hour ago, you would've fulfilled your purpose." Edward hostilely tells her.

"Pity."

She then looks behind us, spotting the young girl. "You missed one." Jane points.

"We offered her asylum in exchange for her surrender." Carlisle informs her. "That wasn't yours to offer." Jane moves towards the young one. Esme shoots Carlisle a concerned look.

"Why did you come?" But before the girl can answer the question she uses her power on the girl. She screams in pain.

"They came to destroy us. To kill Bella and [Name]." Esme speaks but Jane ignores her. Enjoying the pain. "Who created you?"

"You don't need to do that. She'll tell you anything you want to know." Esme pleads with the blonde vampire. "I know."

Carlisle puts a hand on his wife's shoulder. The girl's screams stop. "I don't know, Riley wouldn't tell us. He said our thoughts weren't safe." She tells Jane, who only zaps her again.

"Her name was Victoria. Perhaps you knew her." Edward says.

"Jane faces Edward with an unnerving smile. The other three positions behind Jane. "Edward. If the Volturi had knowledge of Victoria, they would've stopped her. Isn't that right, Jane?" Carlisle makes eye contact with the girl who just stares at him.

"Of course. Felix." She suddenly says and the brunette male moves to the girl.

"She didn't know what she was doing. We'll take responsibility for her. Give her a chance." Esme begs with Jane and the other members.

"The volturi don't give second chances. Keep that in mind. Caius will be interested to know that she's still human." Jane looks over to Bella. "The date is set." Bella spits out.

"Take care of that Felix. I'd like to go home." She ignores my sister.

The male does it and we all wince at the noises. "Thank you, Felix. Until next time." They all leave.

Later that day I sat in my room. On my bed more specifically. Alice and Jasper at the foot of it.

"Edward and Bella are engaged." I suddenly tell them with my lips pursed out stuck in thought.

"Mhm, that's huge. Are you excited for them?" Alice asks me and I nod. "Of course."

"Why are you bringing it up, darlin '?" Jasper asks with a small smirk on his lips.

"Oh no reason." I lay back in my bed. I hear them snicker at me. Joining me in laying on either side of me.

"Is there something you're hinting at?" Alice pokes my side. "I don't know, am I?" I stay strong with a stern straight facial expression.

"Well polyamory isn't exactly legal in most states." Jasper points out to me.

"Let's move to another country." I simply shrug my shoulders causing them both to laugh.

"We'll get married." Alice hums. "Someday."

"Why not now." I offer. "Are you proposing to us?" She asks and I raise a brow. "Mmm, why do I have to be the one to propose?" I huff.

"You brought it up." Jasper reminds me and I chuckle.

"Fair, fair." I kiss his lips then face Alice to do the same.

"Let's let them have their moment then right after steal their thunder." I exclaim, closing my eyes.

"Sounds fair to me, lovebug." Alice lays her head on my chest.

"Yeah, very smart, darlin." Jasper agrees.

Masterlist

A&J ML

Taglist: if you want to be added lmk!

@stevenandmarcslove

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs

@l3ejm

@kisekihany

@aureliacorvina

@marit332

@marsyay78

@small-town-wayward-daughter

@sugathy

@tallrock35

@azazel-nyx

@silas-aeiou

@xxeiraxx

85 notes · View notes

hedgiwithapen · 2 months ago

Note

Dammit Hedgi Day if it sparks joy

Fire Lord Zuko and Toph

Field Trip

Toph frowned. Zuko matched her frown, not that she could see it, and waited.

"You know I can feel you judging me," Toph said. The wood of her bench creaked as she shifted.

"Oh. Good." Zuko returned.

"It's Rude," Toph said, "and not very helpful."

"Weird. Almost like it's not supposed to be."

"Look, when I said I wanted a real field trip, getting stranded in the middle of the ocean wasn't what I had in mind," Toph said. "Like, seriously?"

"Are you blaming me?" Zuko asked, incredulous. "Remind me, who thought metalbending the rudder was a good idea?"

"How was I supposed to know it was weaksauce? It shouldn't have snapped like that. And you're the one who lit the sails on fire! I thought you knew how to use one of these."

"Sokka's airships use hot air to move cloth sails! It was supposed to get us home faster!" Zuko put his head on his knees.

"Don't be a quitter," Toph poked him.

"Of course not. I never quit."

"You quit chasing the avatar."

"I caught the Avatar. Why are you being like this? If we don't figure something out, we could both die. This isn't a fun little trip anymore, Toph."

"I know that!" Toph burst out. Zuko instantly felt bad. "I'm just-- this is how I handle fear. Thought you would have known that by now."

Zuko felt, if possible, even worse. "Oh no. Don't... don't cry, ok?"

"I'm not crying. And even if I am, so what?"

Zuko didn't want to point out the dangers of dehydration. they were in an open boat, and their supplies were dwindling.

"We just have to be positive, right?" he tried to channel Uncle. He couldn't ask what Aang would do-- Aang would have used his airbending to get them home. Sokka would have used his nautical knowledge and made a really bad pun about it, and Katara... never would have been in this situation in the first place, she could have just made the water take her where she wanted.

"We didn't even get to hold the emeralds," Toph lamented.

Zuko decided it was in his best interest to point out that the Emerald in " emerald islands' referred to the color of the water in the bays, and not jewels.

" Maybe we can prey off a board to use as an oar," Zuko suggested. "You can bend the metal in the nails, right? And we can use my robe as a sun cover... your little pom-poms as fishing lures. I've heard you can eat fish eyeballs raw for water."

"I think I'd rather dehydrate to death," Toph said, but handed over her headband anyways.

"This is going to work," Zuko said. "We're going to get home."

Toph's lips tightened. Zuko wondered if she could sense the lie.

#Dammit Hedgi Day 2024 #Dammit Hedgi Day #Avatar the last airbender #toph beifong #Zuko

32 notes · View notes

nethhiri · 6 months ago

Text

Siren Charms: Chapter 13

Zoro x Siren!Reader

Warnings: None

You Know What They Say About Assumptions

It seemed like Chopper would be fine. So would Luffy and Brook. If Nami didn't kill them, that is. She seemed pretty mad that they did something so stupid. With that settled, your wings returned, erupting from the two long, silvery scars that formed a V-shape on your back. It only took a few seconds for them to form fully thanks to your earlier meal. Black, iridescent feathers spread as you took off.

From the corner of your eye, you saw movement. One of the fish riders was headed towards the mermaid and her octopus friend. You didn't give a shit about them, but you did want to fight. You flew towards him, itching to tackle him out of the sky. Just as you sped up to put greater force on the impact, there was a flash of green in front of you and the fish man was gone. With your target down, you had to quickly maneuver to avoid hitting anything else. You doubled back and landed in front of Zoro, who stood on the dock.

"That one was mine." You folded your arms.

"If it was yours, why did I get him first?"

You sized him up. So that's how he wants to play. Fine. "Anyways... have you seen my thingy?" You drew it in the air with your finger. "Spiky. Big. I threw it somewhere."

"The mace you had? Try in the direction of the destroyed buildings." He motioned in the direction of a big pile of broken wood and tangled metal.

You smiled at him, making sure your teeth were visible. "Thanks." You turned in the direction he pointed, purposely making him dodge your hulking wings. By nature, you were dominant and territorial, usually manifesting as competitiveness. After all, in the open ocean, it was survival of the fittest.

It was harder than you thought it would be to find your mace. You spent way too long digging through toppled building materials, flinging bits of metal and wood in all directions. Of course it was underneath everything else. You grabbed it by the handle and dragged it behind you, walking back to the dock, taking a swing at anyone who thought they could run up on you. You made it back to the dock in time to see Sanji get dragged underwater in some kind of weird net.

The little starfish that showed up with the mermaid was saying something about how even though the octopus fish man couldn't catch up to the flying fish, Camie could. You stood up a little straighter. You could, too. You were faster than a mermaid.

"There's nothing that can out-swim a mermaid," the talking starfish said.

"Is that what you think?" You challenged, joining them.

"She's really that awesome? I never knew," Luffy replied.

You dove toward the water, planning to show up that stupid mermaid, but you were jerked backwards by Luffy's arm wrapped around your middle. You wiggled to get free but his grip was really strong.

"Gotcha! Watch where you're going! You almost fell in!"

Of course. He still thinks I'm a devil fruit user. It was amusing at first. You should probably let them know what you really were though. You sighed, "Thanks, Luffy."

Luffy and Sanji made quick work of the rest of the flying fish riders and their boss, leaving you all to move on, back to your original task of finding Fish-Man Island. The octopus fish man, Hachi, and his octopus fritter boat stand came along with you, unfortunately meaning the mermaid and her pet came along too. You had to admit, however, that the fritters he made were tasty.

You sat with Robin, Franky, and Zoro on the deck of the Sunny, enjoying some beer along with the fritters. Beer, along with other alcohol, was only available to you when you were on land or a ship. It took a lot to have an effect on you because of your metabolism. If you were going to get drunk though, you preferred to get it through blood. If you fed from someone with a high blood alcohol content, it had the same effect as drinking the booze itself.

Robin let you look at one of the books she had brought out to read. You couldn't read any of it, but you could look at the pictures. You flipped through it, stopping when you got to a page with something that looked like you. You looked at it with invested curiosity, trying to figure out what it might say. Maybe you could ask Robin to read it to you later. The drawing wasn't quite accurate. The fins were drawn like those of a mermaid. Sirens had a slightly different shape to their tail fins. They also had bigger dorsal fins and were often bioluminescent. The wings weren't accurate either. They were too small.

"Are you interested in mythology, Ether?" The raven-haired archeologist stared at you curiously.

"Oh I thought this was a nature encyclopedia." You flipped around to see that your entry was between the entries of unicorns and dragons and various other beasts of dubious existence. "I guess so."

"What? You can't read?" Zoro laughed.

You curled your lip. "Can you?"

The others laughed and he frowned. Robin looked noticeably relieved that you weren't offended. You weren't supposed to know how to read this language, so why would you be embarrassed? Robin was greatly intrigued by the entry you had focused on, though that had been her intention all along. Sirens had a tendency towards narcissism.

"Yo, E. How did you manage to get to Chopper earlier? That dive was pretty impressive." Franky added,"Thanks, by the way. Nami and I had our hands full with Brook and Luffy."

"Yeah you were drenched." Robin played along. "I'm quite shocked you managed to swim to the ship."

Zoro folded his arms. "I've never seen a devil fruit user swim at all. They sink like rocks."

A faint smile played at your lips. "Who said I was a devil fruit user?"

Tag list: @bbnbhm

#one piece #x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #siren charms #straw hat pirates

26 notes · View notes

whumpster-fire · 1 year ago

Text

I don't know if anyone's brought these songs up in the 'Humans Are Space Orcs' community yet but:

The Mary Ellen Carter by Stan Rogers

and Eight Bells by The Jolly Rogers

are two of the most "humans will pack bond with anything" songs ever in opposite in one way but the same in another way directions.

In "The Mary Ellen Carter:"

A bunch of humans are on a ship. The ship crashed and sank because somebody fucked up (specifically, both of the top two officers in charge were consuming mind altering substances while commanding the ship, in a storm, in an area with rocks. Space Orc move.

The company that owns the ship declared it a total loss, or rather their insurance company did, because it was a relatively old ship. The five guys who were last off the ship and got off at the last moment they possibly could were pissed at this and were like "fuck you, that's our ship now." They decide to salvage the ship anyway, and the narrator sees "She's worth a quarter million afloat and at the dock." I don't know how much a ship (I'm guessing a small-ish freighter or fishing trawler but big enough to have significantly more than five crew) cost in the late 1970s but $250k (Canadian, presumably) sounds not that high, so it really sounds like this is a rationalization to claim what they're doing actually makes economic sense, but if you listen to the song you know it's an act of love. The competency of this salvage operation is dubious. It's five sailors or fishermen on a borrowed barge, which they may well be renting dirt cheap or not paying for at all because one of their buddies owned a barge and agreed that this was a good idea. They have spent months diving to the wreck. Presumably with the bare minimum of training since I don't think diving is a skill sailors tend to have, and the narrator has gotten the bends twice in 60 feet of water so presumably they don't really know what they're doing. But goddamnit, they're going to do it, out of love and out of spite for those corporate bastards who treated the ship they pack bonded with like a disposable object!

...And then in "Eight Bells," there's a ship that's had a long service life, and is now old and worn out and the owners decided to dismantle it for scrap wood. And a bunch of sailors who'd spent half their adult lives on this ship were like "Fuck you, we will not stand for this." And proceeded to steal their (retired) ship from the goddamn harbour, sail her out a ways, and set her on fire and run. Aside from the inherent danger of doing this, it's illegal as hell and considering this one's set in the Age of Sail I'm guessing they could be executed or exiled to Australia or something if they got caught doing this. They're risking their lives on a plan that has absolutely no material benefit to anyone. Why? Because they want their ship to have an honorable death.

Peak Space Orc Behavior, folks.

Yes humans' tendency to pack bond with their ships can be a valuable asset, but do not underestimate their capacity to do irrational, insane things because of that bond.

#humans are space orcs #music #stan rogers #the jolly rogers

90 notes · View notes

dysco-lymonade · 2 years ago

Note

Clexa #7

7. Visiting them at their place of work.

It’s like you’re in my head, Anon. I’m thinking of posting on this AU as a series of snippets to ease myself back into the game.

Lexa tugs her jacket tighter around her shoulders as she faces the cool midnight breeze of downtown polis. She has two blocks to figure out what she’s going to talk to Clarke about tonight. She can only small talk about the weather so many times before the blonde thinks she’s got as much depth as a puddle.

Lexa had just barely managed to get her latest assignment submitted before the 11:59pm cut-off time, and her one and only motivation was seeing the corner store clerk on her way home.

She picks up her pace as she sees the neon store sign up ahead. The mantra of ‘don’t fuck this up, be cool, be brave, be suave,’ running through her mind on a loop. She pushes her way through the door, ready to plaster on her most casual grin as she makes eye contact with the cashier, only to falter in her steps.

Instead of seeing Clarke, she holds the gaze of a floppy-haired frat boy, who looks all-too-pleased to see her walking through the door.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Lextra Woods.”

“Bite me, Collins.”

“God, I would love to.” He retorts with a smarmy grin.

Lexa rolls her eyes and moves on to the drink coolers. Of course, Finn fucking Collins works here too. Finn fucking Collins, the bane of her existence. Beta Fish Chi fucking- whatever frat president Finn fucking Collins. The boy had been making her life an absolute living hell for the better part of the semester. Every time she would cozy up in her favorite corner of the student library to work on her assignments, in would walk (read: stampede) Finn fucking Collins and his gaggle of pledges. Lexa wasn’t even convinced he was part of an actual fraternity, but rather, just trying to have every guy at Polis U begging to be his friend.

She scoffs as she yanks a bottle of water from the cooler.

“Rough night?” She hears from behind her, ready to turn on a dime and give Finn fucking Collins what for.

Only she turns around and is met with the cool blue gaze of none other than Clarke Griffin. She damn near drops the water bottle.

“Oh- uh, yeah. You could say that.” She mentally slams her head into the glass door of the drink cooler. “Better now, though!” She pulls what she hopes is a charming smile onto her face. In reality, Lexa is pretty sure she looks like a serial killer.

“So… Lextra, huh? Interesting name.” Clarke flirts, actually goddamn flirts, with that mouthwatering bite of her bottom lip.

“Lexa… actually. Collins is total tool. Thinks everyone deserves a nickname.”

“Don’t I know it; he won’t stop calling me ‘Princess’ and I want to vomit every time he says it.” Clarke rolls her eyes and moves towards a rack of potato chip bags to presumably reorganize them.

“How utterly condescending of him.” Lexa picks at the label of the water bottle for a moment, contemplating asking, but eventually goes for it. “I really haven’t given you my name after all this time?”

Clarke shakes her head in the negative. “Nope.” She pops the ‘p’, of course she does. “I’ve been fiddling with a few possibilities. Heather seemed too uptight, Brittany too lackluster, I knew it had to be something more unique.” She winks. Actually goddamn winks, and Lexa damn near passes out.

“I would say thank you, but I didn’t pick my name.” Way to be suave, Woods, get it together. “I’m glad I ran into you, actually.” There she is. “I wanted to ask you something. I haven’t seen you on campus, but I’m assuming since we seem to be the same age, that you must go to Polis U. Otherwise why would you work so close?” Stop rambling, get to the point! “Anyway. There’s this fundraiser. It’s more of a bar-crawl, honestly, but it’s to support my program. You buy a wrist band, and the proceeds go to the Law department… I know, bar-hopping for the law… kind of silly…” GET TO THE POINT “Anyway, I wanted to see if you might want to come along with me?”

By the time Lexa is finished rambling, Clarke’s eyebrows have pretty much reached her hairline. But the soft smile on her face, and subtle tilt of her head give Lexa pause. Maybe she didn’t totally fuck this up.

“I did go to Polis.” Oh, did she graduate already? “But I had to take a leave of absence.” Interesting… “And I can’t actually go with you.” Clarke bites her lip, but not in a flirty way. Lexa tilts her head, clearing asking the blonde to continue. “Look, Lexa…” Oh god, this isn’t good. Abort. ABORT. “No, no! It’s not you.” Oh god, I’m going to hurl. “Fuck. That sounds terrible but it’s NOT! Listen, come here for a minute?” Clarke starts making her way toward the back room of the store.

“Clarke, it’s fine. Seriously, you don’t have to expl-“

Before Lexa can finish, Clarke has yanked the right leg of her jeans up to expose her ankle.

Her ankle, currently sporting a thick black band with what appears to be a large battery pack attached to it.

“Uh, Clarke I’m not sure I understand.”

“I’m on house arrest. Well, house and work arrest, I guess.”

Lexa blinks once, not fully grasping the situation.

“I got into some trouble, nothing serious. I didn’t hurt anyone or anything. I just. I can’t go anywhere other than my house or work… for now. I have an appeal hearing in a few weeks.”

“Oh my god. I thought you were just feeding me a line.” Lexa chuckles and leans against the wall. “So, I’m crushing on a criminal? That’s what you’re telling me?”

Clarke looks up at her with a devilish smile. “Crushing?”

Oh fuck.

Lexa takes pause. The cats out of the bag. Just go with it Woods.

“Well yeah, hasn’t it been obvious?”

“You mean, like how you’ve never given me your name, or any type of way to contact you?” She lifts an eyebrow in question and Lexa basically falls to her knees.

Lexa takes a moment to scratch the back of her neck, in what she hopes is a cool demeanor. “I wasn’t sure you were interested. You flirt a lot with, you know, everyone.” She shrugs her shoulders and scuffs the toe of her shoe on the floor, breaking eye contact.

“Tips.” Clarke says simply. “They only pay me minimum wage here, you know, being a hardened criminal and all. I gotta pay the bills somehow.” She chuckles and suddenly Lexa feels the other girl’s hand on her bicep. “Lex,” Lexa would normally scowl at the nickname, but it sounds so sweet coming from the blonde’s raspy voice that she’s decidedly changed her outlook on nicknames. She meets Clarke’s eyes and sees sincerity. “I really would love to go out for a drink with you some time. Maybe just give me a few weeks? Or more, depending on the outcome of my hearing? And in the meantime, can I have your number?”

#clexa #clexa au #ankle monitor AU #clexa prompts #anon #Pretty Little Mess

102 notes · View notes

noonaishere · 1 year ago

Text

Online/Offline [C.S] - four | what’s the wifi?

“Welcome to AtoZ café.”

“Oh, hi,” you smiled.

The man behind the counter was tall and had the most stunning cheekbones you’d ever seen. And in a way he… sort of reminded you of Toothless from How To Train Your Dragon? That was a little odd. He was dressed in a very chic way, in all black, with his sleeves rolled up his elbows.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you in here before.”

“Do-- you see everyone that comes in here?”

He smiled. “I own the place.”

“Oh,” you laughed. “That makes sense.”

He smiled warmly. “So what can I get for you?”

“Umm… Can I get a matcha latte?”

“Sure thing.”

“And um, can I get the wifi password?”

He looked up at you, confused.

“I promise I’ll buy drinks the whole time I stay here.”

He laughed quietly and pointed at the board behind him. “It’s right there.”

“Oh--” you laughed. “Sorry.”

“It’s no problem. And you don’t have to buy drinks the whole time you’re here if you don’t want to. Your bill is 5000 won.”

“Oh, uh…” you fished out your wallet and touched your card to the reader. “I mean, I’m probably going to keep buying drinks anyway since I have some videos I have to edit for work.”

“Are you a youtuber or something?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled. “That’s cool. I’ll just get your drink together.”

You nodded and he walked over to the machines and got started. You looked around the café while you waited. It was quite unlike the café you had worked at when you were younger. It was decorated in a kind of rustic fare; lots of neutrals and woods, it even had what looked like an antique coffee grinder on one of the shelves. The colors were nice and warm, and the ambient music wasn’t too loud. The place seemed to have no real pretension towards being a ‘hip café where all the cool people will go’ - like the one you used to work at - but seemed like it wanted to be a cozy kind of place. You liked it.

You spied a table off in the back corner, with an outlet right near it. Perfect.

“Here you go.”

You turned. “Oh, thank you.” You took your drink.

“It was nice meeting you. I’m Seonghwa.”

“Nice to meet you too, Seonghwa, I’m y/n.”

He nodded with a smile.

“I’ll… be in the corner I guess,” you chuckled as you pointed to the spot you saw.

“I’ll be right here.” He smiled.

You took your drink over to your seat.

You sat in the seat and got your things out: laptop, charger, studio headphones. You set to work plugging things in and turning them on. You put on your headphones and sipped your drink. You hummed to yourself for a moment; it wasn’t too hot. Nice. You appreciated a barista who could make a drink without making it scalding, especially since you had a habit of drinking them too fast and burning your mouth.

You opened the browser and checked your Twitch real quick before checking your clip channel on Youtube. You had been a streamer for a while now, and your Twitch and Youtube channels weren’t doing too bad. You’d say you were doing better if you didn’t have to move at this point in your life, but you could get back to where you were soon enough; your Twitch and Youtube channels were still showing upward growth,and you always had your side gig editing videos for other youtubers.

Speaking of which, that was what you had to work on now. You opened the files your client had sent you and got to work editing it together. You checked the email they sent you with their notes. It was a mashup of several popular kpop songs, and they had sent you the links to the videos you needed to use to put it together. You went through the list of timestamps they sent and listened to the song so you could get an idea of how you wanted to stitch the music videos together to match the music. You opened a document and made a few notes to yourself.

Three hours later, you were still hard at work, face journeying as you added stuff you liked or didn’t like, and reacting way too expressively for someone who was sitting by themself in public. Fortunately, there weren’t too many people in the café to comment on your facial expressions and noises.

One of the workers came out from the back, speaking angrily.

“I can’t believe they’ve done this--”

“Woo, please calm down.”

“No!”

You paused your work and pulled one headphone off your ear, letting it sit in front of your ear so it looked like you weren’t eavesdropping.

Which was exactly what you were doing.

“I knew they liked each other, but I never thought they’d pull something as stupid as this.”

“There’s no point in you being mad when I’m the one who owns the place,” Seonghwa chuckled.

“Right, so you should be more mad. I’ll be the baseline, and you be madder than that.”

Seonghwa folded his arms and sighed.

“Aren’t you annoyed?”

“Of course I’m annoyed. But being mad isn’t going to do anything, they’ve already left.”

The baseline inhaled indignantly.

“Wooyoung, there are customers around. Please keep your voice down.”

He huffed angrily a few times before continuing. “I knew they liked each other but I can’t believe they just ran away like running away means something? And without a two-week notice.”

“I know. I already texted them that if they want their last paychecks they’ll have to come back and get them, but neither of them have responded.” Seonghwa set about cleaning the counter and tidying the cups and lids.

You looked at your computer screen, pretending to work.

“Of course they haven’t responded. You know what he told me like a week ago?”

“What?”

“That you were a tyrant who wanted everything too neat all the time, and that you were oppressing the two of them.”

“Hmm,” Seonghwa thought for a moment, “neither of them were very good at keeping the counter clean.”

“But it’s not like you made them clean the seating area or do the vacuuming or anything! You always do that.”

Seonghwa chuckled. “Some people don’t like being told what to do at all, I guess.”

He grabbed the nearby broom and swept the area around the counter as Wooyoung looked at him, incredulously.

“Why aren’t you more mad about this?” Wooyoung asked.

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa stopped and put his hands on the top of the broom, one over the other. “I was going to fire them anyway.”

“What-- really?”

“Yes. I could never schedule them together because when I did, they never got anything done, and when I scheduled them separately, they spent the whole time texting each other.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I caught them, San has caught them. We’ve both found them taking breaks together during the lunch rush. You just didn’t know because you’re always busy in the back.”

“Oh…” Wooyoung folded his arms and thought.

Seonghwa went back to his sweeping.

“So… what are you going to do? It’s just you and me until San gets back.”

“The only thing I can do: put a ‘Help Wanted’ sign in the window.”

“It’s been so long since we had someone new.”

He shrugged. “Well, it had to happen at some point. Though I must admit I thought maybe some high class bakery would snap you up soon.”

“Hyung, I would never leave here for some fancy place.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.” Seonghwa stopped sweeping and put the broom back.

“I would. They’d never let me take off whenever I need to… not that I can even take the vacation I was supposed to because of those two idiots.”

Seonghwa smiled. “Once we get a new person, you can take off.”

Wooyoung’s phone beeped. “Oh! The chocolate croissants are done.” He rushed back into the kitchen.

You put the earphone back onto your ear as nonchalantly as you could, and got back to work.

Over the top of your monitor, you could see Seonghwa survey the café for a moment. His eyes caught yours and you smiled before going back to looking at your screen.You hoped he didn’t notice you had listened to the whole conversation. He didn’t seem to, as he went back to tidying the counter.

previous | main cast | masterlist | next

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🧋

#San #Choi San #Ateez #Ateez smau #Ateez fic #Ateez au #cafe au #streamer au #fake dating #reader fic #ᴏɴʟɪɴᴇ/ᴏғғʟɪɴᴇ

22 notes · View notes

sdvsalad · 1 month ago

Text

Delivery! - Cassia & Leah Chat

Desc: Cassia makes a simple material drop-off to Leah, who's working on something special. Cassia ends up staying a little longer than she expected. Anise and Basil are obligated to be annoying about this due to being her cousins, you know how it is.

Notes: Half Author C, half Author B (B's the one writing the notes here, hi!), and a little Author A. Turns out Cassia is more anxious than she seems sometimes! She really only socializes while she's working at the saloon, so entering other people's spaces isn't common for her, which might explain some of it (fear of overstepping boundaries). Usually she'd be casually flirting with Leah, but she's a bit confused on how to act when they see eachother out and about around others.

Cassia was delivering some wood to Leah. She did this on occasion, as she had plenty of extra wood from her attempts to cull the enchanted woods around her farm, and Leah was deep into a carving project that she needed scrap wood for. Plus her cousins’ unsuccessful fishing attempts had rendered them too much driftwood to reasonably store in the home.

As she strolled over to Leah’s cabin Cassia had a sickening feeling in her stomach, her nerves were getting to her. This was an uncomfortable feeling, one she hadn’t felt since she’d first introduced herself to the residents of Stardew Valley all those years ago. But Leah made her feel different than everyone else, there was something about the way she spoke that had always caught Cassia’s attention. Her kindness and passion were admirable but not in a way that made her envious, just awestruck. Even though they’d been chatting for months at the saloon these feelings of nervousness never seemed to fade.

None of that mattered though, Cassia had a promise to uphold and responsibilities to tend to. As she pushed her thoughts away she realized she’d arrived at Leah’s door.

As gently as she could Cassia knocked on the cabin’s entrance, it was difficult not to make a dent in the softwood Leah had chosen. Her previously failed attempts to knock gently could be seen in a shallow indentation of the wood, she was surprised Leah hadn’t crafted a new door by now. Especially since she’d so graciously hand engraved a new door for Cassia’s cabin after she’d cracked it from slamming it into a wilderness golem. Just then the door swung open.

“Oh hello Cassi, it’s good to see you!” Leah spoke warmly, and her face and hands had dried paint on them that crinkled as she smiled.

“It’s nice to see you too, I had some extra driftwood and hardwood lying around so I thought you could use it.” Cassia said. She was worried she’d come off too blunt but her expression remained neutral.

“These shapes are so interesting, it’s amazing what nature can make! Thank you so much, please come inside you must be tired from carrying all that.”

Cassia paused for a moment, was that a good idea? She had planned to go to the mines after this, Clint had requested some fresh iron on the Help Wanted Board.

“I-” she was ready to politely decline when she felt Leah tug on her arm to bring her inside. Of course Leah couldn’t physically move Cassia but she went along with the motion anyways. She let herself be dragged past the threshold and followed Leah to her workspace to drop off the wood. After she dropped it into a pile, she looked at the small sculptures that littered Leah’s table. They were strange, abstract, twisting shapes in miniature, some painted, some linked together by some kind of wood-crafting miracle work.

“See anything that catches your eye there?” Leah asked. She was smiling, but looked like she was waiting intently for whatever feedback Cassia had to give.

Cassia didn’t know what to do, so she made a snap judgement. “I think they’re neat.” Oh Yoba- was that the right thing to say? Did that come off as too familiar? She didn’t know how to talk to people she should just go back to serving drinks in stony silence-

Oh, Leah looked happy. And she looked cute when she was smiling like that. Uh, good?

What was the difference between awkward silence and comfortable silence? Cassia felt awfully uncomfortable but Leah appeared totally unperturbed as always. Why couldn’t Cassia pull her usual blank exterior around Leah? This was so, so annoying. Made worse by the fact that her cousins were waiting outside further away gossiping about how Cassia was soooooo in love - Cassia regretted taking them along on the walk. This pitstop was just supposed to be a drop off and now she was sitting next to Leah on her comfortable sofa and drinking tea and listening to her talk about the intricacies of carving. She was cool.

Cassia made it out in one piece without making any horrible conversational mistakes, probably, she thinks; she was still feeling a little off kilter as she approached her cousins. Anise and Basil were giving her a smug look from the place where they’d settled down in the shade of a tree a little distance from Leah’s cabin. They’d apparently been keeping themselves entertained by drawing in the dirt with sticks (Cassia was too deep in… whatever emotions she was dealing with to care that much about the magic circles that Anise had been practicing).

“Someone got a little present!” Anise sing-songed, pointing at Cassia’s hand. Oh right. Leah had pressed something into her hand before she’d stepped out and she’d gotten flustered at the contact and just thanked Leah and ushered herself out without looking at it. She opened up her hand to find one of the little sculptures she’d seen when she first went in. Delicate loops carved from light, smooth wood… It might look nice on her bedside table.

“Did we get anything?” Basil asked, knowing the answer fully well.

Cassia put the sculpture in her pocket, running her fingers over the soft wood grain. “You can get yourself something when we stop at the store. C’mon, we’ve got more errands to do,” Cassia said, starting towards town. Anise and Basil stood up from their spots, brushing off the dust and stretching exaggeratedly before trotting after her, Basil complaining about Pierre’s snack selection and Anise trying to prod the “juicy details” out of Cassia.

Leah, watching from her porch step, laughed softly and stepped back inside… but not before blowing a kiss at Cassia’s back as she walked away.

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv leah #original characters #ocs #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #h&s cassia

3 notes · View notes

bonefall · 2 years ago

Text

What the heck are the humans doing in TNP

This will come up in the Bonefall TNP notes that are coming up, but it's worth a little preview since it's from the perspective of the cats who have NO IDEA that this means.

So here's what the humans are actually doing to the Forest Territory.

WindClan

-First territory to be destroyed; not actually part of the development

-the rabbit poisoning is noted by the cats to be unusual, rabbits near the farms are often poisoned but NEVER this far out

-they are able to figure out that their extermination is intentional. The humans weren't going after the rabbits; WindClan was their target all along

-What they DON'T know is that the human developers are working with sheep farmers nearby. It's going to be a BIG problem if the cats get in the way of development and they aren't aware Clan cats have factions.

-Moorland can be grazed by sheep, but the farmers don't want to risk their livestock near a feral cat colony, knowing rumors of the mountain cats further north which are suspected of killing sheep.

-Illegally poaching WindClan is the 'best' option for both parties

ThunderClan

-Simple enough: The area is being logged and clean cut.

-the first warning sign the cats notice is the Tallpines being clean cut; the land there was sold to the Developers

-The Development Company is building more suburban housing

-THIS WAS ACTUALLY VERY UNPOPULAR

-Druid's Leap was a popular hiking trail and the White Hart woods was a small, managed forest.

-Unbeknowst to the Clans, there was a massive pushback in the town, which was why the Development Company was ready to listen to the sheep farmers about dealing with the feral cat colony before it caused problems

-and then Speckletail Caused Problems

-THAT was when animal control came in, looking to humanely remove the feral cats. It's very likely they would have been relocated; but the Clan cats wouldn't know that

-a lot of the town was actually very sympathetic to the feral colony that lives out there. The Clans aren't famous like Cat Island, nor are they something you go to the woods to watch or anything, but they're Known by the locals.

-kinda hard to ignore the little patrols that run every dawn, noon, and dusk. Sometimes glimpses are caught of a warrior taking some garden catmint.

-it would actually make sense for the cats who escape that van to raise eyebrows in the Animal Control agents. "James did that cat just unlatch a cage? Bit odd innit?"

ShadowClan

-I keep trying to find resources on where to learn more about the life cycle of British Tips vs American Landfills but I can't find shit. You're all going to have to just bear with me on this lmao

-If you're a British Garbageperson... british rubbishman... idk what you call the dudes who take your trash... you can beat me to death if you want but I will explode in your compactor like a lithium battery, so just keep that in mind.

-I have more knowledge on conservation than urban planning OTL

-ANYWAY because the new housing is being built in the southernmost strip, it would get close to the Carrionplace (northallerton amenity tip)

-So the Dump is being sealed up and moved northeast.

-Assuming that Carrionplace is a landfill; it's sealed up with a layer of plastic, then clay, then topsoil.

-ShadowClan territory, a wetland, is going to get filled in. Suddenly it's incredibly hard to hunt, any trees will get felled.

-It's possible the south of the territory has more pine than marsh which means the bulldozing of the camp can stay.

-However it could also Animal Control, or just lumberjacks cleancutting the ShadowClan cedars.

RiverClan

The last ones to be affected.

-The construction disturbs a lot of the soil around the banks, and disturbs fish and wildlife.

-I may have the construction crew do some illegal dumping just for the dramatic effect of having the lake be visibly muddy instead of just unproductive

-I'll be honest, aside from the disturbance of fish and wildlife, realistically there wouldn't be much change to the river. I could get into the very specific way that England fucked their rivers in the Victorian era by trying to straighten them, but that wouldn't really apply to a suburban construction project.

-Damming the River could also make an interesting ecological impact.

#Bonefall TNP #Bonefall Rewrite

89 notes · View notes

twola · 2 years ago

Text

Devil's Backbone : Diablo Ridge I

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC/Reader POV Tags: Longfic, Slow Burn, Smut (18+), Violence, Canon-Typical Injuries

Limpany’s burning was a lot more than meets the eye. Deception, greed, and murder follow everyone touched by Leviticus Cornwall. A story where the Van der Linde gang gets even more inescapably involved in Cornwall’s dealings, with the survivor of the massacre at the heart of it all. Slow burn. Pre-Blackwater and beyond.

Diablo Ridge I: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit

Unorthodox was the descriptor Hosea used. Outlaw gang was not the ending she expected.

➵ AO3 Link ➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ Previous | ➵ Next

I've got the lonesome blues everywhere I go And everything that I need to know The only place I can bide my time Is a place I left behind Way out west they don't give a damn, There's half a woman for every man. -The Deep Dark Woods, “The Place I Left Behind”

—

“ Christ , do you need to tell that story to goddamn everyone?”

Arthur runs his hand down his face, exasperated.

“Now Arthur, I’m just trying to show Missus Shaw over here that you’re not the dour grump you seem to be.”

You laugh, softly, from your place behind Hosea. His horse, which he told you was named Silver Dollar, trots lightly along the trail, which has grown rocky and craggy the further you get from Blackwater.

Hosea glances over his shoulder with a smile. “So, dear, that’s how we learned ol’ Arthur over here was not a fisherman.”

You glance toward the other man, who certainly did seem to be a dour individual. While Hosea was magnanimous, Arthur appeared to be perennially annoyed. By everything. The conversation, the speed at which the horses were trotting, he was probably annoyed by the weather too.

“I can’t say fishing is one of my strong suits, so I can hardly blame you, Mister Morgan.”

Arthur just grunts, a scowl coming across his face. He throws a glare at Hosea, “If you’re done tellin’ stories, Hosea, I’d like to get back to camp before goddamn nightfall.”

“Hush, Arthur, quit bein’ such an ass,” Hosea snaps back at him, glancing back at you, “My apologies, Missus Shaw, again, manners ain’t one of his strong suits.”

You frown, starting to regret coming with them. Maybe you should ask Hosea to take you back to Blackwater and head for Saint Denis anyway…

“So, if fishin’ ain’t one of your strong suits, what is, Ruth?” Hosea asks, clicking his spurs into his horse’s sides to speed up the gait a little. You hold on to the edge of the saddle, as Arthur spurs his horse as well, moving from a trot into a slow canter.

“Oh, uh, well… I can do most domestic things I guess, cooking, sewing, and the like… money counting… some medical things…” You rattle off, unsure of what he was looking for in your answer.

“A well-rounded woman then, that’s wonderful, dear.” Hosea chirps, guiding Silver Dollar down the trail as it slopes downward to the bank of a riverbed. “How’s about we stop here for a bit of lunch and to stretch our legs, isn’t too much farther past Riggs Station.”

“ Chrissake ." Arthur urges his horse forward, cantering down the trail and splashing through the creek bed, putting distance between himself and Hosea.

You frown, “Mister Matthews-”

“Hosea, dear.”

“- Hosea . I don’t… I don’t want to cause any issues. It seems like my coming with you isn’t sitting well with Mister Morgan.” You say, looking ahead at the man who has already crossed the water, circling his chestnut red mare on the other bank of the creek. His scowl is evident yards away.

“Pay him no heed. Mister Morgan, he doesn’t get the final say here. He’s a bit rough around the edges. Caught him on a bad day." Hosea clicks his tongue, and Silver Dollar speeds into a canter, splashing through the river bed toward the opposite bank. The motion causes you to jerk forward a bit, and you throw an arm around Hosea’s side to stay upright on the horse.

“Sorry there, dear. Shoulda given you a bit of warning.” The older man apologizes, bringing the Turkoman to a stop on the opposite bank of the water.

Arthur swings his leg over the rump of his horse and out of the saddle, his stirrups clinking together in the chime of metal-on-metal. He moseys toward Silver Dollar, nodding up to you as he raises his arms. You drop your bag on the ground behind you and lean over to place your hands on his shoulders as he grabs your waist, effortlessly bringing you down to the ground. Hosea follows as soon as you’re situated on the ground. He pats his hand briskly on his horse’s flank.

“Few minutes here, walk around a bit. Can’t take days in the saddle like I used to,” Hosea laughs, bracing his hands on his lower back and arching his shoulders slightly in a stretch.

Arthur has left the two of you, moving to the river’s edge and digging a cigarette from the satchel slung over his shoulder. He cups his hands around a match he strikes against the carton and puffs to light the tobacco. A whisper of smoke releases into the air as he tosses the match into the water and crosses his hands over his chest.

“So, Ruth, you ever been out this way?” Hosea asks, turning back to his horse and running his fingers through its black mane. He turns to you, as you gaze around, turning your head this way and that, trying to orient yourself with your surroundings.

“Don’t think so… I’ve been to Blackwater, but not much else in West Elizabeth.”

“Mmm,” Hosea hums, giving Silver Dollar one more pat on his nose before turning to you, “Nice country. This here is the Upper Montana.”

You nod in agreement. Mountain streams pour down cliff sides to collect in a slow-flowing river, easing and winding toward Flat Iron Lake in the distance. All water around here seemed to flow down to the lake, busy with ferries and cargo boats and fishermen alike.

“Excuse me for a moment.” Hosea steps past you, approaching Arthur at the water’s edge. You nervously tuck strands of your blonde hair behind your ears and glance away from the two men, who are speaking in a low register, obvious that they did not want to include you in whatever conversation they were having. You sigh, looking back at the horses. Behind Silver Dollar is Arthur’s mount, a chestnut red mare, huge and fearsome looking. Larger than Hosea’s horse, for sure. Not as big as Aethon though.

A clutch in your chest pains you as you think of Aethon. God , you even miss that stupid horse, what you wouldn’t give for him to snap at you again, Frederick laughing in the background at your skittishness with him. You step toward the mare, and in return she tosses her head toward you, and out of muscle memory, you nearly jump back, your hands far away from the horse’s head.

“She ain’t gonna bite.” Arthur appears next to you, noticing your trepidation as you are standing next to his horse, “She leaves bein’ mean to me.”

“My�� husband’s horse, he was a nasty old brute. Nipped at me all the time. I have scars to prove it.”

The man snorts, amused, “Boadicea over here might look big, but she’s a real sweetheart. She’s a Hungarian Half-bred.”

You slowly move your hand, still nervous, to the horse’s head, softly touching her silky coat as she remains unfazed. She even jerks her head upward to chase your hand, and once you see she’s not going to bite, you pet her gratefully.

“She’s beautiful. I can see with that red coat why you named her after a red-haired warrior queen.”

“Well read, are we?” You jolt slightly when Hosea strolls back over, interrupting the conversation.

Reclaiming your nerves, you respond, “More like I had a mother who liked to tell stories from the old country.”

“Ah, Irish?” Hosea chirps.

“Yes, she was. She’d tell tales of Celtic warriors and witches and whatnot. And growing up in the hills, the flowers outside her family’s farm…”

“S’that why she named you Calluna ?” Arthur asks, bemused.

Your heart stops. The drawled-out syllables of your seldom-used first name, in your head, you hear echoes of it, in voices long past. Your father, your mother, your late husband. Only those closest to you used that name, and that was seldom at best. Why on earth did you tell these strangers your name?

“Please don’t call me that.” You whisper harshly, eyes darting away from the two men as you step away from the horse. You can’t explain yourself right now.

Arthur raises his eyebrows before rolling his eyes, his hands in the air in mock surrender. “Alright, Lady, Jesus .” He turns away, back to Boadicea, refastening his saddlebag with more force than necessary. Whatever peace there had been, it was gone now, and Arthur was back to being vexed.

“C’mon, we’ve dawdled enough.” Arthur spits back at the two of you, and you meekly follow Hosea back toward Silver Dollar. The older man helps you up onto the horse before mounting himself.

Hosea sighs, “I don’t know what I’m going to do with that boy sometimes.”

If there’s one thing that he hates, it’s droll small talk.

Arthur can feel himself getting more impatient by the minute. Even Boadicea was picking up on his agitation, throwing her head back and forth restlessly as she walked along the trail. Hosea was engrossed in conversation with you, and he can tell the older man is laying it on thick. He didn’t have time for Hosea to be flirting with a woman half his age. Not with Dutch breathing down his neck about this damned ferry job they want to do.

They being the operative word. It’s that ass of a newcomer, Micah, that got ideas of grandeur stuck in Dutch’s head. And if there is something that Dutch is powerless to resist, it’s big dreams.

That or a pretty woman.

You laugh from behind Hosea as he delivers a punchline to a joke, probably at Arthur’s expense again. He wasn’t listening. You forged northward, up into the hills where the golden prairies of the Great Plains gave way to the rugged forests of Big Valley. The sun is beginning to set as you pass over a set of tracks, a small train station along the road the closest linkage to Blackwater.

Hosea says something in passing about the weather. Almost imperceptible, Arthur hears a click between the horses’ breathing, between Hosea’s quiet chuckle, between the clinking of the spurs on his boots.

“Quiet.” He snaps.

Hosea straightens up, immediately on edge. Arthur brings Boadicea to a slow walk, looking into the forest that has overtaken both sides of the trail. You’re sitting behind Hosea, eyes wide, also looking around.

A man jumps out from behind a tree a few lengths ahead on the trail, effectively blocking the way forward.

“Alright, ye bastards, give us what money you’ve got. And the lady. We’ll show her a good time.” The man laughed, swinging a shotgun over his shoulder with a smirk on his face.

The man’s lilting accent, obviously Irish, was muffled slightly by the green bandana shielding his face. You sink behind Hosea, your eyes just peeking over his shoulder. He sits rigidly straight in his saddle.

“Don’t think so, partner.” Arthur is utterly unfazed, one hand on the pommel of his saddle and the other wrapped around his reins.

The man ahead of you pulls down his bandana to reveal his face and gives a toothy grin.

“Why, look who we got here, fellers. It’s Arthur fuckin’ Morgan!”

Two other men stalk out of the trees, both armed with rifles and sporting similar green bandanas, which they also pull down. They come to a stop on either side of the first one, hands on their weapons, trigger fingers obviously itching.

“Colm‘ll want to see you, Morgan. That’s fer sure.”

“Why don’t you tell ol’ Colm to come see us himself if he’s so inclined?” Arthur drawls, completely unperturbed by the three men surrounding them. The horses, even, are calm.

Hosea turns his head to the side, glancing at you. He calmly places one hand on his holster, the other one gently lands on your knee. Arthur’s gaze moves from man to man on the road, landing on your concerned features for only a moment. Your eyes raise, and you lean in closer to Hosea.

“Morgan, you still suckin’ old Dutch’s cock? Has ye trained well, he does. Now come on, give us what you got, the lady comes with us, and you can be on your merry way.”

“Don’t think so, O’Driscoll .”

Hosea whispers something in your ear, and Arthur sees you make yourself small behind him, winding an arm around his waist. He nods, almost imperceptibly.

Arthur Morgan snorts, a grin creeping onto his face under the rim of his hat.

It’s like slow motion. Practiced, the thing that he as a man excels at. Second nature . In a matter of seconds, Arthur has unholstered his revolver, a practiced hand pulling the trigger and his other palm slamming back on the hammer. Once, twice, thrice. Three shots ring out in the afternoon sun. The bodies of the highwaymen fall to the ground, and Hosea’s horse neighs loudly, stamping its hooves on the trail.

You bite your tongue to stop from screaming as you duck your head behind Hosea’s shoulder. His hand remains on your knee as he circles Silver Dollar in the road, the sounds of gunshots finally agitating the horses.

“God damn O’Driscolls.” Hosea clucks, looking at the men bleeding out on the ground. He peers up at Arthur, who is reholstering his revolver in his belt nonchalantly. “Y’alright there, Ruth?”

Arthur looks at you, pathetic little thing , shaking on Hosea’s horse with wide, fearful eyes. Like a woman who hasn’t been well acquainted with death and violence. He frowns, again affirming in his mind that Hosea was stupid to bring you with them.

At least the last girl they picked up on the side of the road was a good thief and a spitfire. This woman looks like Hosea pulled her out of a damn church pew.

“ What- , what was that?” Your voice is small, incredulous, as you clutch at Hosea’s waistcoat, surveying bodies on the ground. Each of the men had bullet holes expertly placed in vital areas - the chest, the neck, the head.

“O’Driscolls, slimy bastards. Frankly ain't worth the lead.” Arthur snaps, matter of factly.

“I do apologize, Ruth. Didn’t expect to get set upon by the likes of them. Fortunately, Arthur had it handled.”

You look up at Arthur. You’re flummoxed. Bewildered. Terrified. Hosea taps your knee again. “We best be gettin’ back to camp ‘for the sun goes down.” Hosea looks back up at Arthur.

Arthur grunts, scowling. He urges Boadicea forward on the road, uninterested in the soft conversation that Hosea is having with you. Probably trying to ease your nerves or some other nonsense.

Let the woman be his problem. Arthur Morgan has got enough going on.

You didn’t know what to expect when you arrived wherever Hosea and Arthur were taking you, but you definitely did not expect what you found.

The horses had veered off the trail as your group passed a logging camp, in the last gasps of the dying day, the golden rays of the setting sun leaving foreboding shadows in the woods.

Somewhere in West Elizabeth, north of Blackwater, that’s all you knew. Along the way, you had seen railroad tracks, and knew of a railroad line heading north to Ambarino, the same one that crossed over the Dakota at Bard’s Crossing near Limpany, but you still couldn’t place where in God’s name you were. The road had turned craggy and mountainous.

You didn’t particularly think it would be received well if you asked, considering the gruff man then greeted your group, armed with a rifle and a scowl.

“Who’s there?” He yells as the horses draw closer.

“It’s us, dumbass.” Arthur spits, not bothering to slow down as he passes the man.

“Fuck you too, Morgan.” He yells back, throwing his rifle back on his shoulder from where he had it cocked in his hands.

Hosea nods to him as the two of you ride by. “Davey.”

“Hosea.” He replies. Looking at you, he smirks, a sly grin under his dirty blonde mustache. “Ma’am.”

You nod in return, unsure of how to respond. You clutch your bag tighter to your lap as Silver Dollar slows down a small, relatively unworn trail. The pines and low scrub give way to a clearing, where the bright light of campfires and lanterns combat the incoming dusk.

Completely opposite to the way they were dressed; these two smart-looking men in waistcoats and gleaming revolvers; the camp is somewhat ramshackle. Wagons and tents litter the landscape, this clearing where they stop. At least a dozen people mill about the area, the low neighing of horses and soft crackling of campfires providing ambient sounds. Hosea brings Silver Dollar to a stop, and Arthur, who has already climbed down from his mount and tied her to an improvised post, approaches you and extends his arms to help you off the horse. You lean over to take his shoulders again, and he lifts you from the horse. You smooth your skirts as you situate yourself, grabbing your bag from Hosea before the older man swings himself down from his horse.

Your arrival seems to have garnered attention, as you look around to find people gathering around, sizing you up. Men and women alike, gruff and stern looking. Rough, armed to the teeth. Suspicious. With a grunt, Arthur pushes past the group of people who have gathered around without a word, heading toward a wagon along the edge of the clearing. People seem to know to give him a wide berth.

“Well now, who is this lovely lady?”

“Dutch, this is Missus Ruth Shaw. Found her down in Blackwater.” Hosea places both of his hands on your shoulders as he points you to the man who is obviously the center of this group.

He’s well dressed, with a dark waistcoat punctuated by golden chains and polished buttons that glinted in the waning light. Tall, with dark, slicked-back hair and a full mustache. Two revolvers sit on the belt at his hip.

This dark-haired man steps closer to you, takes your hand, and kisses it, a sly smile peeks his mustache at the upturn of his lips. Several rings adorn his fingers.

“Dutch Van der Linde, Missus Shaw.”

Van der Linde. Van der Linde.

You’ve heard that name before.

“Madam, what brings you to our band of knaves, thieves, and brigands?”

The Blackwater Ledger. That’s where you’ve heard that name. A gang of outlaws, robbing banks and homesteads across the west. Van der Linde. You try to hide your astonishment and surprise and glance backward at Hosea, who remains behind you with one hand on your shoulder.

“I…”

“She’s fallen into hard times there, Dutch. Lost her husband recently. No family. Someone who needs savin’.” Hosea eyes Dutch from behind you.

Dutch shakes his head in assent. “Of course. We save people needin’ of savin’. You’ll be safe here, Missus Shaw.”

“Th- thank you, sir. I appreciate yours and Mister Matthew’s kindness.” You stutter out, trying to regain your composure after realizing you were brought to an outlaw camp.

“Miss Grimshaw over here will get you situated with the girls.” Dutch nods over to a stern-looking middle-aged woman, who looked quite frightful, with a large scar down her cheek and a shock of grey through her dark hair, pulled up into a bun. She steps closer, and takes your arm.

“C’mon now, Missus Shaw. You’re over here.” She leads you away from the center of camp, and you look at Hosea with terror in your eyes, but he just smiles and waves you away.

“I don’t know what Hosea promised you when you got here, but you’re gonna work. We don’t have freeloadin’ girls around here. Laundry, cooking, cleaning. You got it?” She says, without a hint of welcome or warmth in her voice as she points you to a wagon with an awning and a rug spread out on the ground.

She thinks you’re some simpering fool. A frightened girl. You know, reeling, that you haven’t shown anything to refute that. This was a group of criminals. If you were going to survive here, you had to show some sort of spine.

“I’m not afraid of work if that’s what you’re insinuating, ma’am.”

“I certainly hope not, Missus Shaw. You sleep here. The girls are around.” Miss Grimshaw leaves you, huffing as she turns on her heel back toward the campfire.

You sigh, putting your bag down on the ground, surveying the area. You rub your temples as you sit down on a hay bale near the wagon.

“Hi!”

You blink, turning toward the wagon where you were sure you heard the high-pitched voice. Puzzled, you looked around, not seeing anyone in the vicinity.

“Over here.”

A small mop of brown hair peeks out from underneath the wagon, small hands wrapped around the spike of a wheel.

“Oh… hello.” You say, bending over to put your hands on your knees. You are amazed in this ramshackle group, there was a child?

“Who are you?” The boy asks, drawing behind the wheel as you lean closer to him.

“I’m Ruth, what’s your name?”

“Jack.” He mumbles, looking bashful.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Jack. What are you doing under there?” You ask, lowering yourself to squat to be at his height.

“Mama went to go talk to Pa.”

“Oh… who’s your Mama and Pa?” You ask, and he points, you turn on the ball of your foot and look across the way, toward a clearing of trees where a man and woman stood talking.

Maybe ‘talking’ was generous. The dark-haired woman, her hair pulled up into a bun at the top of her head, sticks her finger into the chest of an equally dark-haired man, his hair long, disheveled, and brushing his shoulders. He scowls back at her, their body language making it obvious that whatever they were arguing about was going nowhere.

“Pa and Mama fight a lot…” The boy trails off.

You frown. Poor kid. “I’m sorry, dear.”

“That’s okay. What are you doing here?” He asks, inquisitive as he steps through the spokes of the wagon wheel and approaches your seat on a hay bale.

“Oh, uh, Mister Matthews said I could come here. I… was all alone and he was kind to me.”

“Uncle Hosea is the nicest. He reads to me a lot.” He says back to you, sitting down on the ground at your feet.

“Does he now? What do you read?” You ask, realizing that this kid was providing the most conversation you’ve had with anyone since arriving.

“I like stories about kings and castles!” He says excitedly.

“Jack!”

The boy’s head darts up and he jumps from his seat on the ground, his eyes bright, “Mama!”

“C’mere, silly boy. It’s past your bedtime.”

The woman walked closer to the wagon, holding her hand out for the boy to take. She was young, quite young. Dark-haired, looking exasperated after her row with the man, who seems to have stalked away out of view of the camp.

“I was talking with Miss Ruth. She’s a nice lady. Uncle Hosea brought her.”

“Well, you can talk to Miss Ruth more in the morning, alright? Now say good night.”

“Good night, Miss Ruth!” The boy excitedly waves before running off to another tent.

“Good night.” You reply, waving back.

The woman watches her son make it back to the tent and turns back to you, eyeing you from head to toe, trying to size you up.

“Abigail. Abigail Roberts. Heard you was from Blackwater.” She says, placing her hands on her hips. She eyes you with suspicion.

“Ruth Shaw. More or less.”

“Well, Missus Shaw, hope yer ready for dealin’ with this mess o’ folks.”

—

“Arthur.”

Arthur looks up from the hunting knife he is sharpening at his seat near one of the campfires. He follows where the sound of his name came from, the large tent at the center of the camp. Dutch stands under the light of a lantern, snapping a book shut as the younger man sheaths his knife on his belt. Arthur drags himself up from his seat, slowly walking over to Dutch as they both enter his tent.

“This new girl. What’s she about?” Dutch nods over to the table in the center of camp, where you sit opposite Mary Beth and Tilly, engrossed in conversation. He lights a cigar with a match as he glances back to Arthur, waiting for a response.

“I don’t know, Dutch, wasn’t my choice,” Arthur complains, “Hosea offered to bring her back to camp.”

Dutch hums, placing his lit cigar back between his lips.

“He’s been a goddamn pain about it all day, talkin’ the woman’s ear off.”

The dark-haired man takes a puff, blowing smoke as he turns his head. “Y’know, she looks a bit like Bessie did when she was young.”

“ ‘Course she does.” Arthur groans.

Dutch smirks, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against one of the posts his large tent is pitched on. He nods up, motioning to Arthur to turn around. Arthur takes the cue, and notes the topic of conversation walking closer to the tent.

“Hosea.”

“Dutch. Arthur. What plan are you concocting now? You’ve got that look in your eye.” Hosea glares directly at Dutch as he enters the tent, raising his eyebrows.

“No plan, Hosea. No plan.” Arthur says, shaking his head and staring at his boot. He knew where this was going.

“Heard you’ve been enjoying the company of our newest guest.” Dutch drawls, a mischievous grin painted across his face.

“C’mon now Dutch, she’s a nice girl. And she doesn’t have anyone. You always say we save people who need savin’.”

Arthur interrupts, “Guess we’re savin’ women half your age that you spend all day flirtin’ with.”

Hosea narrows his eyes, taking offense.

“First off, I ain’t flirtin’ with her,” Hosea wags his finger accusingly at Arthur, who rolls his eyes up at the pitch of the tent and puts his hands in the air in defense, “Secondly, she isn’t half my age . Gods, Arthur, I know you think I’m ancient but the woman’s not that much younger than you.”

Dutch raises his eyebrow, peering out of his tent to where you sit at the table. “Really? Pretty little thing, I would have figured she was younger.”

Arthur and Hosea glance at one another. The younger man snorts.

“Best keep her away from Miss O’Shea there, Dutch. She don’t seem to appreciate wandering eyes.” Arthur swings his large hand onto Dutch’s shoulder, shaking him in jest. He moves behind Dutch, pointing to the red-haired woman reading a book against a tree across the clearing.

“You leave dealin’ with Miss O’Shea to me, son.” Dutch swats Arthur’s hand off his shoulder. Arthur chuckles to himself, following Dutch’s line of sight, glancing at you amongst the other women.

Dutch unabashedly stares, taking his cigar from his mouth and dropping it to the ground, crushing it under his boot. There is no hiding his intent. There never is, not with Dutch. Arthur knows what Dutch is zeroing in on, what he is thinking. How your blonde hair cascades down your back, how your dark almond eyes track across the camp, how the dark blouse you’re wearing dips and shows the barest hint of the swell of your breasts and your pale décolletage…

Shaking his head, Arthur realizes it is not only Dutch that is thinking these things, but that his glare, too, has lingered too long.

Mary Beth jumps up, excitedly rounding the table and moving behind you as you laugh, her hands dive into the mess of your hair, fingers pulling out strands and dividing them into sections to braid.

Hosea breathes heavily, a cough rattling his lungs as he clears his throat.

“Y’ dying’ there, Hosea?” Arthur chuckles.

Hosea wipes his mouth, giving Arthur a withering glance. “It’s called gettin’ old. You’ll find yourself there soon, Arthur.”

Lilting notes from a phonograph rouse you from your sleep, as you blink your mind into existence. The hour is late, but evidently in this camp, late is normal. Pushing on the ground, you sit up from your spot underneath the canvas roof hung from a wagon. The threadbare blankets you recline on do little to assuage the hardness of the ground. Looking around you to find none of the other women under the awning where you lay, as you pull your knees to tuck them beside you. You rub your face, extinguishing the last vestiges of sleep as you sigh.

A pair of boots appear ahead of you. You look up to find Hosea extending his hand down to you.

“Ruth, my dear, come and dance with an old man.” Hosea appeared seemingly out of nowhere, above you. You take his hand, allowing him to help you stand from your place on the ground near the women’s wagon, dusting your skirt off before giving him a nod of acceptance.

With a smile, he leads you to the open area in front of Dutch’s large tent. You can’t help but smile back as you turn to face him, placing your other hand on his shoulder as he places his on your waist. You begin to sway to the music.

“Mister Matthews, you failed to mention that your group here was a bunch of outlaws.” You state with raised eyebrows and a sarcastic tone.

“Must have slipped my mind, sweet girl,” Hosea says with a wink, stepping back and raising his arm to spin you around. When he retakes your hand, he raises an eyebrow, “That a problem?”

“Not… necessarily.” You trail off, glancing around the camp. Dutch van der Linde leans against a barrel at the opening of his tent, smoking a cigar, casually reading a book. Across the way, a group of men clutch bottles of whiskey, circling the campfire.

“We rob, cheat, and scam. Some other delinquencies. We try not to kill unless we have to.”

“Ah, the noble thief. A man must have a code.” You reply back to him as you continue to sway back and forth together.

“Hit the nail on the head, dear.” Hosea dips you, and you laugh in response as he pulls you back.

“So, Missus Shaw, where are your people from? Y’ got a bit of a drawl there, I would say somewhere in the south, but not Lemoyne. Not originally.” He asks, adjusting his hand back to your waist.

“Virginia. Though it's been years since I’ve been back. Close to fifteen.” You reply, placing your hand back on his shoulder.

Hosea chuckles, “Ha, still got it then. You said you lived in Saint Denis?”

You nod, “After my father died, well... First, my mother died when I was young, and it was just me and him for a while. He died when I was about nineteen, and I didn’t want to stay, so I packed up what I had and went to Saint Denis.”

Hosea hums in assent, twirling you again slowly.

“For about seven years. Met my late husband there. We left and moved around a bit before ending up…” You trail off, looking away.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me. I… I know how hard it is. Lost my own wife several years ago.” Hosea stops, moving his hand from your waist. You drop your hand from his shoulder, catching his gaze again. He gives a gentle squeeze to your hand that he is still holding.

You give him back a sad smile, squeezing his hand back.

He gives you back a lopsided smile. “My Bessie, she was my better half. Far better. Still don’t know why fate would give a man like me more time than an angel like her.”

“My husband… he was… he…-”

The crashing of glass interrupts your conversation. You turn your head toward the noise, as does Hosea. Large figures around the fire jump up, empty bottles of alcohol crashing to the ground.

“Fuck off! Weren’t my fault that coach had extra guards.”

“Goddamn fool you are, big, bad, Bill Williamson.”

“Oh, yeah, 'cause you’re so tough, Morgan, y’old ugly sod. Go fuck yourself.”

“You best reconsider them words, or I’ll have to shove them back down yer fat gullet. Ugly as a pig and half as smart.”

“Asshole!”

Another bottle smashes, drowning out the soft tune coming from the phonograph. Hosea sighs. You let go of his hand, as he looks over toward the campfire, where the sounds have escalated to cursing and yelling.

“Sometimes they have to get somethin’ out of their systems.” He says, before stepping in the direction of the ruckus.

Two large men crash to the ground, knocking over a chair that was previously occupied. They roll around like boys, a punch to the face here, a kick to the gut there. A hat goes flying. You recognize that Arthur is one of the men involved. Perhaps the day's annoyances finally got to him after a bottle of whiskey.

A young man sidles up next to you and bumps his shoulder to yours briefly, smiling as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Don’t worry about them. Bill’s… well, he’s Bill. Not the nicest, or smartest of the bunch. And Arthur, well, sometimes he’s full of piss and vinegar,” he nods his head toward the fight that Dutch and another large man, the one who looks part Indian, pull the scrapping men apart, “Sometimes he’s perfectly pleasant. Depends on when you catch him.”

“Ah.” You note, as finally, the two are pulled off of each other, sporting bloody noses and black eyes, snarling at each other like wolves.

“Don’t mind ‘em. I don’t think we’ve met, Miss. Name’s Lenny Summers.” He unwinds his arms and gives you his hand to shake, which you do heartily.

“Nice to meet you, Lenny, Ruth Shaw. How long have you been here?” You ask, gesturing around to the campsite.

“Here on the ridge? Well, we’ve been here about a month. But if you’re talkin’ about the gang, I’ve been with em for about a year. Met them up in the mountains when I was on the run.” Lenny replies to your question, scratching at his neck.

“On the run?”

“Yeah, got into some trouble in Lemoyne several years ago… bad business ,” He says, motioning over toward the table a few feet away with his head. He moves toward it, and you follow. He reaches into the box in the middle of the table, pulling out two beer bottles. Sitting down, he offers one to you. You take it, sitting on another chair.

The other man, the one Arthur was scrapping with, stomps past the table, both your and Lenny’s eyes follow him as he walks past. His receding hairline is spattered with blood, as his nose drips red liquid. He notices, snarling at Lenny, spitting on the ground a bloody mess of phlegm. “The hell you looking at, boy?”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, storming off toward another tent. You are glad to be ignored. Back toward the campfire, you see Arthur scowl, working his jaw as Hosea and Dutch chide him in some fashion.

“Don’t pay them no mind. You’ll be fine here, Miss Ruth.” Lenny says, rolling his eyes as the excitement dies down.

You stare at the motley crew of people mulling about the camp; rough and tumble men sporting revolvers, mean-looking women with snide tongues and little patience. You sure hoped he was right.

That, or you needed to figure out an escape plan.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #red dead fanfic #rdr #rdr2 fanfic #red dead fandom #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female oc #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan #ao3 #twolafic #devil’s backbone

35 notes · View notes