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sad-sweet-cowboah · 5 years ago

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Mine Now

Summary: You’d been in the gang for a while now, and you’re sure that a certain blue-eyed cowboy has some feelings for you.

@verai-marcel‘s high honor/low honor writings intrigue me, so I wanted to take a page from her book and try it myself!

Tags and warnings: Violence, alcohol, smut, body worship, rough sex, overstimulation, slight dom/sub undertones

“Y/N.”

Settled on a crate just outside your tent, you peered up from the book you were reading. Arthur, one of your favorite people, stalked up to you, stopping just a couple of feet away.

“Whatcha readin’?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Ah, just some novel I grabbed last time we were in Valentine.” you responded.

“’Sit any good?”

You shrugged half-heartedly in response. “It’s okay,” you sighed, though it kept you from being bored all day. “Did you need something?”

He shifted in place, his eyes leaving yours to stare at the ground for a moment. He was silent at first, slowly lifting his head to meet you gaze again. “I got tip of a stagecoach headin’ towards Flatneck Station, holdin’ somethin’ good. ‘Sposed to be transferred to a train goin’ west. Gonna try and get it ‘for then. You in?” he asked.

Curiosity piqued, you put your book down. “Sure. Anyone else coming along?”

He shook his head. “Nah, jus’ you and me,” he paused. “That ain’t a problem, is it?”

“Of course not,” you answered immediately and stood up, smiling at him. “Just gimme a few minutes to get ready.”

He nodded, returning with a small smile of his own. “Ya know where to find me, then.”

Within ten minutes, you had gathered your supplies and mounted your horse. You rode with Arthur, side by side, loping down a dirt path in the forest. Arthur asking you to do missions with him wasn’t new; however, this was the first time you and him went alone together.

It’d been almost a year since you’d joined the infamous Van der Linde gang, being picked up by an enthusiastic Dutch after you tried to pickpocket him. You remember him entering a saloon with such a swagger that screamed rich. You were at the bar, scouting the crowd for some drunken fools that could unknowingly leave with lighter pockets that night.

You always got away with it, and you almost did that time. Hadn’t been for that same man riding alongside you that caught your action in the first place. You tried to scamper away, attempting to lose them by disappearing into the crowd. You’d managed to get outside, though ultimately cornered by two men shortly after. You however held your ground, defending yourself of your thievery by trying to smooth talk your way out of it.

Neither of them were convinced, though Dutch seemed intrigued by you. After a few minutes of talking, he offered you a place in his gang. And you, having nothing but the clothes on your back, agreed.

Life before the gang wasn’t easy. You’d been on your own since you were sixteen; your mother had died when you were very young. Your father, a somewhat poor farmer, had always tried his best to keep you fed and happy. He unfortunately had an accident while chopping wood, and despite your best efforts, his wound turned gangrenous without money for proper medicine. And without any known family nearby, there was not much you could do.

Originally you’d gotten a job delivering groceries for a shopkeeper. The job wasn’t glamorous and the pay wasn’t the best, it still meant three hot meals and a bed to sleep in. After a few years, the shopkeeper had passed in his sleep, and the shop was sold back to the town, leaving you once again with nothing.

You did a few odd jobs here and there, even had your hand at being a deluxe bathgirl. It didn’t last long due to the sheer amount of perverts that would come your way. Eventually, you’d come across a small group of thieves who taught you their ways. Rather than robbing people at gunpoint, they taught you to have nimble fingers and how to be sneaky. It was a decent setup, until one got a little too greedy and found himself on the noose just a day later. The others scattered, leaving you to fend for yourself once again.

You’d been on your own for a couple of months until Dutch and Arthur found you.

For the first time in a while, being a part of this gang felt like having a family again. A diverse band of outlaws that each welcomed you with open arms.

With your quick hands, you soon learned how to expertly wield a gun. Arthur was the one who taught you, and even gave you your first; a Cattleman revolver that sat holstered on your hip. With your newly found skills to parallel your current ones, you soon became a valued member of the group. Whether it was robbing stagecoaches in the cover of night, or dressing up all fancy and slipping your hands into the coat pockets of unsuspecting coal giants, you were one of the first people to be asked. And you always accepted.

Every single mission was alongside Arthur. Even when on the rare occasion you weren’t chosen for one, Arthur would ask for you to come along anyway.

Admittedly, something about him intrigued you. He was usually quiet, though held an air of authority to him that most of the others respected. You didn’t know too much about him, only prying out bits and pieces when you talked. The times when he was drunk he’d spill a little more, but other than that, a lot of his life was a mystery to you. Even when you’d ask, he’d shrug and mumble something vague. He was a little bolder when it came to confronting people, a show of his strength that was reserved for the direr of occasions.

That still didn’t stop him from sitting next to you at the campfire on most nights, or wishing you a good night when you went to bed. He was always the first one to speak to you in the mornings as well.

Every time, you’d feel your heart flutter a little faster.

You couldn’t help but to feel something for him. He was older, something you appreciated since anyone your age had a one-track mind, especially in the situations you’d found yourself in on more than one occasion.

He was also handsome. The way those blue eyes stared at you, sometimes you feel as if you could melt on the spot.

“Hey, Y/N,” his voice snapped you from your thoughts. “We’re almost there.”

You nodded silently and focused on the road ahead. The forest was thinning out into an expanse of a field ahead. You spotted the stagecoach, though the station still a little too far to see. This was good, meaning you were still early enough to intercept it before the train. Arthur slowed his horse to a trot and you did the same.

“What do you wanna do?” you asked, looking at him.

“Your call this time.” He said, tilting his head toward you.

You blinked in surprise. You’d never called the shots before. “Er, why?” you asked.

He shrugged. “You been with us for a while. I wanna see how you do things. You alright with that?”

Well, this was new. “Okay…” you began, observing the stagecoach. It was fairly small; with two horses and one guy steering. That didn’t account for who was inside, but you’ve handled more with ease. There was also a lockbox on the back, which most likely held the loot. “We’ll make it easy. You distract, I’ll get into that lockbox.”

“Alright,” Arthur said. “We got a plan then.”

You smiled at his approval. Even though you’ve had your fair share of kills, you would prefer to leave without bloodshed if you could help it.

He sped up, galloping into the forest to go wide around, briefly disappearing within the trees. You kept behind, far enough so no one would be alerted of your presence. Within a few minutes, Arthur had effectively stopped the coach. Hiding behind the thicket, you hopped off your horse and carefully snuck forward, taking care not to rustle any bushes.

As you got closer, you heard Arthur speaking to the driver. You kept your eyes forward, careful not to kick any rocks or step on any sticks along the road.

“…don’t mean to bother ya, just need a little bit of direction…” Arthur’s voice sounded. Though you were focused on the box, your ears were trained to listen for any issues. So far it was a normal conversation.

You’d reached the back of the carriage, and you pulled out your lock picking kit. Keeping yourself steady, you began to work at the lock. You heard Arthur trying to prolong the conversation, and you quickened your pace. Within a few short moments, you heard the satisfying click of the lock releasing. You let out a silent breath of relief and flipped the lid up, and was graced with the sight of a few fat stacks of bills.

You grinned and grabbed them all, stuffing them into your satchel.

“Hey!”

You froze, eyes widening as you looked up. One of the passengers had poked his head out, and was glaring at you.

Shit.

You only had time to roll out of the way when shots were fired at you, and you fumbled with your revolver, pulling it out of the holster before throwing yourself behind a nearby boulder for cover. Arthur shouted something, and more gunfire was heard, along with thundering hoofbeats.

You peered over, quickly taking a view of the fight. The driver was dead, though the passengers – four of them – came running out of the coach, guns out. Arthur circled around on his horse, firing at them.

You took your chance, taking a deep breath and aimed. It were as if time slowed down while you hyper-focused on your shots, pulling the trigger flawlessly and effectively nailing each in the head in a split second with crimson splatter. It was a little trick Arthur had taught you, and has proved to come in handy in dire situations.

The others were out of your vision, though swears filled the air along with multiple gunshots. Leaving your cover of the boulder, you hurriedly pinned yourself to the carriage, peering around to the other side. The two men were firing into the woods, though you couldn’t see Arthur.

While they were distracted, you aimed and quickly fired, leaving a hole in the skull of one as he lifelessly flopped forward into the grass. The other turned around in shock, yet had no time to react when another gunshot rang out. The bullet had flown through his eye socket, the surprise still plastered on his face as he joined his comrade on the ground.

Heart pounding, you stepped out into the open, squinting to see Arthur still on his horse, trotting out of the cover of the woods. “Arthur!” you sighed in relief.

“Y/N?” Arthur called out, coming up to your side. You could see concern plain on his face. “You alright?” he hopped off his horse, stepping somewhat close to you, his eyes traveling up and down to look for any damage. He held his hand out as if to place it on your shoulder, but kept those few inches of distance.

“Yeah,” you responded breathlessly, holstering your gun and brushing off the dirt and leaves sticking to your clothes from your brief meeting with nature. “That was close.”

The relief he expressed was visible. He put his hand down. “Yeah it was,” he glanced over at the now five dead bodies littering the path. “So much for the sneaky approach.”

“Well, we got out alive,” you pointed out with a smile. “And without a scratch.”

He nodded in agreement, and gestured to your bag. “How much ya get?”

You pulled the money from your satchel, taking a few moments to count them out. “Three thousand.” You announced.

Arthur’s eyebrows raised in surprise, soon replaced with a triumphant grin. “Glad to see that lead weren’t a dud.”

“Hell yeah,” you agreed, splitting the money three ways. You gave him his share, tucking away the rest: some for you, and some for the camp. “Let’s get back, shall we?” you added and whistled for your horse.

---

“Whoa, that’s a nice cut!”

“Good job guys!”

“Damn, Arthur, Y/N. You really got a good one!”

The praises that befell you two when you returned from camp were endless, the air filled with whoops and cheers. It’d been a bit of a dry spell as of late; robberies gone wrong or false leads. This put a damper on the camp, and this news had brightened everyone’s spirits.

As some of the boys gathered around to congratulate you, you couldn’t help but to notice Arthur had stepped back from the crowd. His head was tilted to hide his eyes underneath his hat, though you noticed a slight frown set on his lips.

You were soon distracted when Karen came up, pressing a bottle of beer into everyone’s hands for a celebration.

It’d been late afternoon when you got back, and it darkened to night as the liquid celebrations ensued. After a while, you were a few beers in and sporting a decent buzz. You chatted with the others, your lips a little looser under the influence of the alcohol.

At some point you’d glanced toward the campfire. Arthur was sitting there, along with a couple of others. All of them were drinking, though the latter were chatting amongst one another whilst Arthur remained quiet, seemingly lost in thought.

What was he thinking about? You, perhaps? You knew he felt something for you, he must have. Why else would he ask you to accompany him for that robbery, alone? But the poor boy is probably too shy to come out with it. Maybe you could give him a push…

You swaggered over, giving an airy greeting to the boys. Glancing down at Arthur, he offered a small smile though said nothing. A thought crossed your mind, and before you could think on it further, you acted on it. Standing in front of him, you bent down and sat directly on his lap.

You felt him freeze underneath you. “Y/N-”

“Hey Morgan, got your good luck charm there?” Bill teased with a laugh.

“Seems more than a good luck charm.” Javier added.

You giggled and wrapped an arm around Arthur’s neck, taking a swig from your drink before turning your head to look at him. Even in the orange glow of the fire, you could see the surprise plain on his face.

You also noticed he didn’t rebut Bill or Javier.

“Should we leave you two alone?” Lenny chimed in.

“Ah, it’s all harmless!” you shot back with a smile. “Arthur don’t mind.” As you said that, you turned your head to look at him again, noting his eyes were bright, intense. His hands hesitantly rested on your hips, and you shifted yourself closer in encouragement.

The others chuckled like schoolgirls, though you didn’t care. Arthur’s still surprised gaze was on you, though gave no intention that he was uncomfortable. In fact, you’re pretty sure he subtly pulled you even closer.

Maybe now he’ll get the message.

“Actually, I’m going back to my tent for a bit.” you announced, untangling yourself from Arthur to stand back up. You could have sworn his hands lingered on your hips before you were up completely. Turning your head and giving him a subtle wink, you sauntered toward your tent at the edge of camp.

---

High Honor

You pushed back the flap of your tent, your heart pounding as you walked in. Beer had taken the edge off, yet you weren’t drunk enough to feel shameless about what had happened. It surely seemed like a good idea at the moment.

You hoped you were right. You sat on the edge of your cot and waited, hoping he understood you. A few minutes had passed and nothing had happened.

You were sure you’d made a fool of yourself, and Arthur will probably never talk to you again, or scold you for even attempting such a bold move. How stupid you were to think he thought of you more than just a fellow gang member. It will certainly be an awkward discussion in the morning with the others.

Your thoughts were soon derailed when the sound of footsteps drawing close to your tent caught your attention. You blinked, seeing a familiar silhouette step up, standing on the other side of the canvas. Could it be?

“Y/N? Can I come in?” Arthur’s voice sounded.

Oh, shit. Was he going to yell at you now? “Go ahead.” You answered, fighting to keep your voice steady.

The flap opened again, and Arthur stepped inside. His gaze was once again hidden by his hat. His posture didn’t indicate anger. In fact, he seemed to be nervous. It reminded you of how he approached you earlier that day.

The silence between you was deafening. You weren’t exactly sure what to say to him, and it appeared that he didn’t either.

You took a deep breath, decidedly initiating the conversation. “Uh, s-sorry about that. I’m kinda tipsy.” You admitted, hoping that he’d accept the behavior from your inebriation.

He slowly looked at you. “No need to be. I, uh, I actually…” his eyes darted downward again, trailing off as if he couldn’t find the words. He seemed more nervous than you at the moment.

You blinked, standing up slowly. “You…”

He gave a soft sigh. “I actually…liked that.” he rubbed the back of his neck.

Eyes widening, you responded with a quick exhale. “What? Really?”

He continued to fidget in place, the anxiety coming off him in waves as he tried to muster up his next words. You waited patiently, although you knew what he was going to say. “Y/N, I…well, I like you. I like you a lot.”

The weight that sat in your stomach lifted so much it felt as if you could fly right then and there. “Really?” you gasped.

He nodded, looking at you fully once again. “I have for a while. Hell, I’ve liked ya since you joined us.”

“And you never said anything?”

He shrugged. “I wanted to earlier, but I got kinda nervous. Wasn’t sure if you liked me back. Wouldn’t blame ya if you didn’t.”

You frowned at his response. “Why would you say that?”

“Well, I ain’t the prettiest to look at. I ain’t the youngest either. Wouldn’t think you’d waste your time with someone like me, when you could be with anyone else.”

Your stomach churned at his words. You never knew he had such a low opinion about himself. You reached out and entwined your fingers with his. “Well, Arthur Morgan. Listen to me when I say, I like you too.”

He glanced down at your hands. His lips parted as if to say something, yet no words were formed. It took him a good minute for he asked, “Why?”

You stepped closer to him, closing the space between you two. Releasing his hands, one of yours went to gently cup his cheek. His stubble was rough against the soft skin your palm. “Because you respect me. You see me for a person and not just a thief or some girl with a pretty face. And you’re a lot more mature than any guy my age.”

He chuckled at that last bit. “‘Spose I got that goin’ for me.”

“And you’re damn good looking too,” you added, reaching up to take his hat off, revealing his face in full. “Don’t know why you’d think differently.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a kiss. He once again stiffened in surprise, but soon eased into your touch. His arms slowly wrapped around your waist, holding you close as your lips moved quietly against his.

A long moment passed before he pulled back for air. His gaze was soft and loving, all for you. A rush of heat spread through your cheeks. The two of you were holding back feelings for far too long.

You kissed again, exhibiting much more passion now. His grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer to him. The heat of his body radiated against yours, and you pressed even closer. The space closed between you elicited a soft groan from him, a sweet melody that sent a fire elsewhere within your body.

A presence made itself known against your thigh. Before you could make sense of it, Arthur stepped back, releasing you and turning himself away in embarrassment. “Sorry…” he murmured. “I should get goin’…”

“No.” You whispered, reaching out and grabbed his hand again. “Stay, it’s okay.”

He blinked in confusion. “You sure?”

You nodded silently, tugging him back toward you. “If that’s how you feel about me, then act on it.” In the dimness of your tent, you could see the bulge that rested behind his jeans. How far could this go? Your free hand twitched forward, slowly, your eyes never leaving his. He didn’t stop you, or move away. Laying gently along his hardness, you palmed him slowly. You were rewarded with a soft groan, the uneasiness melting from his being.

“I ain’t been with a woman in a long time,” he shyly admitted to you, his hips slightly pitching forward vainly searching for more friction. “I may not be what you expect.”

“You’re perfect either way,” you assured him, running your hands up his torso to rest on his chest. He made a small noise of disbelief, and you gently shushed him. “Let me prove it.”

He was silent this time, watching you as you nimbly began to unbutton his shirt. One by one, revealing the expanse of his pecs. Once completely undone, you pushed the fabric aside to reveal more. Your hands began to explore him, admiring hard muscles underneath scarred skin. Every ridge and plane didn’t go untouched. Your fingertips roved every part of him before finally resting at his waist, hovering above his pants.

Reaching up, you whispered in his ear to lay down. Without questioning, he did so, his eyes never leaving you. He looked so beautiful and vulnerable in this position. Carefully, you straddled him, leaning over to give him a gentle kiss. “You’re beautiful,” Your murmured against his lips, moving down to kiss every scar you’d found before. “Every part of you.”

“Darlin’…” he sighed, rubbing his fingers through your hair. You smiled at this, knowing your words were beginning to take effect.

Kissing below his navel, you made quick work of his belt and buttons. Pushing aside the restraints, his length was revealed to you, standing straight and waiting. He certainly had a bit of girth to him, and your mouth watered at the thought of having it inside you.

You wrapped your hand gingerly around him, hearing another soft sigh passing his lips. You kneeled in between his legs, pumping your hand once. His eyes fluttered.

“Arthur,” you said gently. “Look at me.”

He focused onto you, his hands taking place on your waist.

“What a beautiful sight, you are,” you murmured, pumping your hand at a slow and steady rhythm. “Don’t you think?”

“…Y-yes.” he stuttered hesitantly, eliciting a low groan.

“And you’re perfect the way you are, right?”

“Right…” he moaned, keeping his eyes on you.

“Good boy.” you purred, leaning down to sweetly kiss him. He deepened it, his tongue exploring your mouth heatedly as your hand sped up. You could feel his fingers playing with the fabric of your pants, tugging your shirt free from them. His rough hands found their way underneath, though let a muffled hiss of annoyance to find your chemise was blocking him.

You giggled, sitting up to shrug your shirt off. Your chemise was soon to follow, exposing your upper half to him. He wasted no time in reaching for you.

“You feel so soft, so nice…” he murmured, one hand sliding up your midline, stopping between your breasts as the other gripped one, kneading it within his palm. The sensation felt great, sending a flash of fire straight down to your core.

“You feel nice too,” you added, your hand returning to his length to solidify your statement. “Can’t wait you have you inside me…” the more you played with him, the greater the heat made its presence, pooling as moisture in your undergarments.

He hissed out a swear. “Shit, Y/N. I want you…”

Oh how you wanted him too. But you wanted to prolong this moment, make it memorable between the two of you. Most importantly, you wanted Arthur to feel good about himself. “Touch me, Arthur,” you breathed. “Prove me how good of a man you are.”

He sat up slowly, never breaking his held gaze. He continued to massage your breasts as his other hand slinked down, unbuttoning your pants.

His calloused fingers parted your lower lips, finding his target with ease. A moan escaped your mouth as he danced slow circles upon your bundle of nerves. Your hands rested on his shoulders, partially for balance, almost melting from his touch.

You praised him, your breathless compliments were like music to his ears. You could see that smile growing, his touch becoming more fervent the more you spoke. Pleasure coursed through your veins, and your back arched, pressing your breasts to his chest. A noise of appreciation escaped his throat, and he leaned down to kiss your soft flesh. He nibbled lightly along the crook of your neck, across your collarbone, and along your nipples. A gasp uttered from you, shivering as his lips and teeth toyed with the sensitive nubs.

Peak on the rise, you ran your fingers through Arthur’s hair. “You’re so good, Arthur...” you purred to him. “I’m close. Keep going.”

He peeked up at you, and slipped a finger in. Feverishly working your inner walls, he brought into a smooth, deep kiss. Arms around his neck, you gladly accepted it, hot breaths mixing and your moans muffled. Ecstasy pulsed like fire in your veins, filling you up to your very center. It was coming, and quick. You broke the kiss, reaching your orgasm as you sang out a moan. Your hips shuddered, grinding languidly against his palm as you rode out the last waves of it.

Your heart raced and your face flushed, you gazed lustfully at Arthur. He pulled his hand out, marveling how soaked his fingers had become.

“Is that to your likin’, sweetheart?” He asked, giving you a look of expectant curiosity while his voice radiated need for approval.

“Mmm, I think so,” you gave a soft giggle, idly twirling a lock of his hair around your finger. “No man has made me come to my orgasm the way you just did.”

You swore you’d never seen a man blush so hard.

“And I want you to do it again…” you whispered, getting up to pull his pants off the rest of the way, exposing him completely to you. Your own pants were to follow, though taking your time to shimmy them down your hips. Arthur watched, eyes wide, reflecting a hunger that lurked beneath the surface. Bringing yourself to straddle his hips, you hovered yourself over him. “By taking me completely.”

His lips parted slightly, though his words died in his throat when you’d rubbed your folds across the pinkened head, coating him with your slick. His hands found their way to your hips again, though from the shudder that rippled through his chest, he staved off the urge to force you onto him. “Fuck…” was all he said in a strained voice.

Slowly at first, you began the descent that allowed him to stretch your inner walls. Inch by inch, filling your core, biting your lip and wincing a little as you adjusted to his size. He watched you in awe, taking him whole as you seated yourself completely on his lap.

And then, you started to move.

The slight pain from before had disappeared completely, the friction absolutely amazing. You gripped on his shoulders, using the added leverage to roll your hips on him. A slow place, though lovely all the same. His grip tightened, not enough to hurt. He let out a small groan, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder. Another swear escaped his lips.

“Y/N…Jesus, you feel…so amazin’.” He rumbled, kissing your shoulder.

You could only moan in response, increasing your movement against him. He began to lightly thrust into you, keeping in sync with your motions. His deep, guttural moans vibrated pleasantly. His teeth ravaged your skin again, knowing you’ll have marks later on.

His hands moved to your back, bringing you even closer to him. Pressed together, he drove himself further upward into you, dragging along your sweet spot. You trembled in his arms, tilting your head up to let out a moan, keeping your voice steady to not alert the entire camp of your pleasure.

“You sound beautiful, sweetheart.” Arthur marveled, tilting his own head up to kiss along your neck. His stubble tickled you pleasantly, all the while he continued to subtly push himself toward your pleasure.

“So do you,” you mewled. “You’re d-doing marvelous.” Caressing his face, you kissed his forehead, his cheeks, and finally on his lips. Fingers slinked through his sandy hair, with every loving and gentle touch he groaned in appreciation.

Briefly breaking his lips away, his arms wrapped around you. Strong and warm, he lifted you off his lap and laid you on your cot. The feeling of emptiness was short, him sliding back in with one smooth motion. His eyes never left yours as he placed his hands on either side of you.

He thrust slowly, deeply, kissing you again to staunch your whine. You lifted your legs and wrapped them around his waist, allowing an even deeper angle for him.

He moved faster, harder, rocking your body to the very center. Your second was on the rise, advancing too quickly for you to even fully comprehend. Your voice heightened to alert him, your nails dragging along his solid back.

Arthur pulled back a few inches, giving you a stare so intense that it almost made you blush. “You close?” and when you nodded, he quickened his pace.

The explosion radiated from your core, ascending into you moaning out his name. As the fire ebbed from your belly, your shaking legs fell limp as his hips started to shudder.

“Shit, I’m close too.” He groaned, his thrusts becoming faster and shallower with abandon. You could only cling to him as he chased his own peak. In seconds he pulled out of you, rubbing himself between your folds before releasing his spend across your belly with a guttural moan.

With both of you panting, Arthur met your eyes once again. His face was flushed, though his eyes were bright and soft. It was quiet, no words were exchanged for that first moment of post-copulation bliss.

You spoke first after catching your breath. “That felt amazing, Arthur.”

He smiled shyly, leaning down to plant a sweet, gentle kiss on your lips. “It did.” He straightened up, taking in the sight of your sweaty, fatigued body with a look of marvel. He’d reached for his bandana and wiped away the mess he’d left on your stomach. This faintly surprised you at how much of a gentleman he was. His gaze swept over your cot. “Uh, may I?” he asked, gesturing to the space next to you.

You smiled up at him, scooting over to create more room. “You may.”

He took the space next to you, though there wasn’t much room on your cot. He pulled your blanket on top of the two of you before he wrapped his arms around your torso.

You pressed yourself closer to him, snuggling into the crook of his body. He felt warm and slightly slick with sweat, though you didn’t mind.

A wide yawn escaped Arthur’s mouth. “Can’t believe we just did that…” he mumbled, nuzzling the back of your neck.

You turned your head to look at him. “Why?”

“Bein’ able to lay with someone as amazin’ as you, I only dreamed of it,” he explained, the lull in his voice accompanied his drowsiness. “Didn’t think you’d have feelings for me as well.”

Arthur,” you cooed, laying a tender hand upon his cheek. “I think I just proved to you how you make me feel. That ain’t gonna change.”

He hummed in response, turning his head to kiss your palm. “I’d hope not. Cause after this, I’d like to call you mine. If that’s okay.”

You smiled widely at him, turning to kiss him once again. “Of course it’s okay.”

---

Low Honor

Your heart leapt to your throat the moment you’d stepped into your tent. Had you really just done that? It was a bold move, even by your standards. Despite the shame that loomed, an active giddiness took a hold of you.

You paced in your tent, unable to calm yourself down. Blood thundered in your ears, every second felt like an eternity. Arthur had to have gotten the message at that point. If he didn’t take your hint, then you couldn’t imagine the endless testing you’d get for weeks from the boys afterward. Even worse, you were afraid Arthur may never even speak to you again.

Despite the pounding of your heart, you heard footsteps stalking up to your tent.

The flap fell open, revealing Arthur as he slid inside. Your eyes widened, and he stopped before you, his hands gripping his belt in a domineering way that could have made you weak at the knees.

“You mind tellin’ me what the hell did that was about, Y/N?” He asked in a low voice.

Was he angry? Your mind flipped back and forth between rational thought and a cheeky response. The alcohol had tossed better intuition out the window. “Your lap looked cold, thought I’d warm it up.” You responded simply, folding your arms.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “That so? Why would you think that?”

“I think you know, Arthur.”

His eyes caught yours, a firm gaze that you held evenly. He then swept his gaze over you, his tongue darting out between his lips as if looking at a delicious meal. “Do I? Then tell me.” He challenged.

God, that voice. “I think you like me.” you said simply.

He stepped closer to you, stopping within inches. “S’that whatcha think, huh?”

You nodded silently, forcing yourself to keep still. His entire being instilled a fear in you while simultaneously igniting a thrill that sent fire through your veins.

The hunger in his eyes intensified. “Can’t say you’re wrong,” he chuckled slightly. He reached towards your face, tucking a stray lock behind your ear before running his fingers through your hair. You were surprised by this gentle action, though you didn’t object it. “You have no idea what the hell you do to me, woman.” He growled in an almost animalistic way.

You didn’t respond, you couldn’t, as he gripped the back of your head to pull you in for a kiss.

You stiffened at first, unsure how to take this. His other hand held you in place by your jaw, although not tight enough hurt. You relaxed after a moment, melting to him as his tongue prodded its way past your lips. You tasted the liquor he’d been drinking, as well as a faint tang of tobacco.

Moving his hand from your head, he placed it on the small of your back. “Been wantin’ ya for a while,” he said in between kisses. “Since that day you tried to rob Dutch.”

You felt your face flush in surprise. “Really?” you whispered against his mouth.

“Wanted to take ya then and there.” He growled to you, pressing his hips against yours. The warm line beneath his jeans made itself known against your mound.

You gave a slight gasp, not expecting to feel that. You however stood in your place. “Wh-why didn’t you?” you stammered, keeping your eyes on his face.

“Decided to step back n’ watch,” he continued. “See how ya fit in with the gang.” He moved his hands to hold your hips, locking you against his body. “But seein others try to be sweet on ya, made me jealous. Surprised ya didn’t go for anyone else.”

“No one really stuck out to me, not like you.” you admitted.

A growl emitted from his chest, no doubt pleased with your words. “Wanted to say somethin’ earlier at the robbery, but it didn’t feel like the right time. Couldn’t help but to be jealous again, when everyone was surroundin’ you. I wanted to pull you out n’ take you to my tent.”

Your face grew hot again. “Arthur-”

He cut you off with another kiss, even rougher than the first. He pressed his weight to you, making you back up until the back of your legs hit your cot. “But now I got you here,” He whispered. “Been waitin’ a long time for this.”

Leaning onto you, his weight forcing you to sit and lie back. His mouth attached to your neck, sucking and nipping your skin. You shuddered from the sensation, letting out a small moan. He reached for your shirt, nimbly unbuttoning it before peeling it off, then pushing the fabric of your chemise aside to expose your breasts. He wasted no time in tweaking your nipples, rolling them in between his fingers. You bit your lip, shuddering underneath him.

“God…” you mewled, feeling a warmth pool between your legs.

“That feel good, darlin’?” he asked, his mouth resting on your pulse point.

“Y-yes,” You answered with a wavering voice. “Please, more.”

He chuckled, gripping one breast to caress it with his tongue. He swirled around your nipple, sucked on it, stimulating you in ways you’d never dreamed of. His other hand slinked down the front of your body, making quick work of sliding into your pants.

“Wet already?” his fingers found your center immediately.

You whined in response, shuddering as he toyed with you. Mere minutes had passed by before he slipped a finger in, and then another, slightly stretching you out as he vainly sought your climax. Your hands clawed at his shoulder, his back, anything to hang on to, your body feeling almost limp to his touch. “Arthur!” you gasped, unable to form any other words.

“Go on, princess. Let me feel it.”

Your peak hit quick, expelling a rush of liquid into the palm of his hand. You cried out weakly, your entire body trembling from the sudden onset of your orgasm.

“Good girl,” he reached up to pet your head before standing up straight and pulling you back to your feet. He pressed on your shoulders, making you kneel on the ground. You peered up at him curiously, wondering what was next. Appreciating him from this angle gave you a rush.

He began to unbuckle his belt, and then his pants. Pulling his hard cock from its restraints, he prodded your lips with the tip. “Go on.”

Oh. You’d only heard of this maneuver, though had never seen it in action or attempted it yourself. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to try. You opened your mouth slightly, easing the tip slowly inside. Your tongue swirled around it carefully, turning your eyes upward for a reaction.

He let out a soft moan, his hand returning to your head. You took a little more of him in your mouth, inch by inch until you were almost at his root. He was wide, taking up more room than you’d thought. His hips twitched slightly, a small movement to indicate for you to continue.

And you did, slowly bobbing your head along his length.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Arthur rumbled, petting your head once again. “Make that pretty lil’ mouth work.”

You hummed around him, adding vibration against his sensitive shaft. His hand added some pressure to the back of your head, prompting you to go faster. His groans sent a thrill through you, pooling once again in your already soaked undergarments. Daring to go further, you reached up and fondled his balls.

He uttered a small gasp, his hips bucking forward slightly. “Darlin’,” he hissed. “You gonna make me cum before I’m ready.”

You giggled lowly, giving him one more good rub before focusing on his length once again. He bucked further, and you felt him hit the back of your throat. You fought the urge to gag around him, closing your eyes and allowing him to fuck your throat.

“Look at you, takin’ me so well,” Arthur cooed, reaching down to caress your cheek. “You’re so pretty from this angle.”

You made a noise of appreciation, surprisingly enjoying the praise. You held yourself still, letting him have his way for a moment, thrusting quickly into your mouth over and over again. It lasted for longer than you’d anticipated, before he pulled himself out completely, his breathing slightly uneven.

He leaned down to kiss you tenderly, wet and sloppy from your spit. Pulling back to give you a smirk, “Can’t get carried away,” he murmured. “But your mouth is somethin’ else.”

“Glad I can please, then.” You said sweetly.

His smirk widened, and stood up straight once again. “I ain’t done yet though. Get on the cot.” He commanded. You did so without question, sitting on the edge. He grabbed the waistline of your pants, sliding them off along with your underwear, leaving you bare for him. “On your back.”

You lay down, peering at him expectantly. He stood in between your legs, hooking his arms around your thighs. Stepping closer, he prodded your entrance with his cock. Sliding it through your folds a few times, covering himself with your moisture and sending a shiver up your spine.

With one thrust, he sheathed himself smoothly and quickly, giving you no time to adjust to his size. You gave a whimper of pain. “A-ah, fuck!”

“Take it, sweetheart,” Arthur growled in encouragement. He released one of your legs to dip to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. “You’ll like the pain.” He began to thrust.

You bit your lip, tensing from the pain-pleasure that gripped hold of your body. The more he moved within you, the better it began to feel. You breathed slowly, letting your muscles relax as sweet ecstasy began to overtake you.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he drawled, increasing his ministrations upon your sensitive nub while his thrusts grew faster and harder. “Beautiful, takin’ my cock like that.”

You moaned loudly in response, your fingers slipping along your cot, failing to find purchase for anything to hold onto. He fucked you hard and fast, the glorious friction allowing the heat to build up quick in your core.

The sounds of his hips slapping against yours, and your wanton whining filled the tent. He was relentless with you; his fingers dancing against your bundle of nerves without a break. You get your second peak building quickly, your voice raising an octave in warning.

“Go ‘head.” He granted, his own voice breathless, somehow rubbing you even faster than before.

The coil sprung deep within you, emitting a moan that soon turned into a squeal, realizing Arthur hadn’t removed his hand. You squirmed in his iron grip, trying to get away from his touch. He held you even tighter at that.

“Cum again,” he ordered. “I love the way you look when you do.”

You cried from the overstimulation, failing to escape his fingers. He continued regardless of your efforts. “Arthur, p-please!” You begged, absolutely writhing now. Though at this point, you weren’t sure if you were begging for him to stop or continue.

He pounded harder within you, managing to hit that spot that made your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. The buildup happened fast, wrenching out another one explosively cascading within you, a mewl escaping your mouth.

He grinned down at you, drowning your sounds of pleasure with a deep kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, but he pulled away. You whined in protest, wanting the closeness.

He chuckled, pulling out to flip you onto your hands and knees. Finding your entrance again, he didn’t hesitate to pound you from behind with much more intensity than before.

Your back arched, gasping at the new angle. It felt great, your already tired muscles trembling beneath him. You called out his name rather loudly, only to have him shove his bandana in your mouth. He leaned over, his thick torso pressing down on you.

“Ain’t nobody need to know what a filthy whore you are, ‘cept me,” He growled in your ear, his tone like fire in your veins. “Ain’t that right, princess?”

You made a muffled moan, unable to do anything else as he mercilessly fucked you, pounding himself in such a feral way. “I’m close,” he huffed to you. “I’m gonna…fill you up.”

You didn’t even have a moment to comprehend his words. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

With one last powerful thrust, he pressed his hips to yours, eliciting a low groan as he released his spend deep within you. He rolled himself against you shallowly, milking himself of every drop before he pulled out, slowly, feeling you shudder as he did so.

Without the support of him, you collapsed onto your cot, removing the bandana from your mouth. You felt yourself shaking, sweat covering nearly every surface of your body. As tired and used as you felt, a sense of euphoria began to trickle through your veins. You rolled onto your back, silently watching as Arthur cleaned himself off before tucking himself back into his jeans. Despite the flushed look on his face, one couldn’t tell what he’d just done.

He took a deep breath and met your gaze. A smile of satisfaction crossed his face, reaching out to run his hand up your midline to caress your cheek. “Beautiful, princess. You did so well for me.”

Heat crept into your face, shyly averting his gaze. How could this man be so romantic after fucking you like that?

“Ah ah, look at me, darlin’,” he softly chided, removing his hand to place both on your hips again, gentle this time, prompting you to stand. You did so silently, letting him wrap his arms around you. As you leaned willingly into his embrace, your body trembling from head to toe, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and whispered, “You’re mine now.”

#Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan x reader smut #high honor Arthur #low honor Arthur

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soahappylowman · 4 years ago

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Boundaries ch. 7 (Happy Lowman)

Summary: Happy’s in charge of protecting a camgirl from Diosa Words: 2702, yikes (don’t get use to this, i suck) Warning: There is talk about sexual assault, and mild sexually suggestiveness Notes: bruuuuhhhh, I am SO SORRY, and I know that doesn’t mean much because y’all waited... months. I’m so sorry, between pandemic and work, I had some personal things happen and I had to move. I usually like to stay a chapter ahead and I’ve just been too demotivated to write. I’m going to put more effort into writing again, but at a manageable pace. I’m so sorry about any errors or pacing problems, I’m still working through it. I think my goal is to release the whole thing, then go back and edit. I really appreciate some of the love shown recently, and those that stuck around. If you want in on the tag list, lmk.

----

Happy didn’t follow Tessa right away. Instead, he was staring at the spot that she was just standing, confused. He wasn’t sure why but that whole exchanged seemed like a betrayal. He shouldn’t feel like that, he didn’t know Tessa all that well, let alone had any loyalty to her. Happy frowned deeper, but decided to leave this subject behind him, even if his hand was tingling from where she was holding it.

When he finally came out to the parking lot, Tessa was just reaching his bike. She was rocking back and forth in her cowgirl boots and her arms crossed over her chest. The golden sun hour reflected across her long hair, illuminating the deep red hints in her hair. Happy sighed deeply, again feeling conflicted.

“Where are we going?” Tessa didn’t look at him as she addressed him.

“Don’t have a plan.” Happy approached the bike and picked up the helmet for Tessa.

“Well, I haven’t eaten all day. We can go to a little coffee shop in Lodi I tend to frequent.” Tessa grabbed his helmet from his hand and then mounted the back of the bike behind him. Happy simply nodded.

“Tell me where to go.” Tessa settled in behind him, although Happy noticed she didn’t sit as close as the first time she got on his bike, he tried not to be disappointed.

-----

Happy held out a hand for her to dismount, even though she definitely knew how as he’s seen her do it a couple times already. He tried not to feel so self-satisfied when she grabbed onto his hand anyways.

Happy looked up at the establishment in front of him and nearly groaned. He should’ve thought about letting her pick a place for them, but he didn’t and now he’s sitting in front of some girly ass coffee shop. He tried not to roll his eyes as Tessa excitedly bounced into the building.

Walking into the building was no better either. The color palette included pastel purple, pink and blue. Happy felt beyond out of place, but didn’t say anything as Tessa approached the counter. Happy got to appreciate her once again as she lifted her hips onto the counter and bent forward, looking for a worker. In a flash, Happy imagine what it would be like if she were naked and he bent her over the counter, wrapped her long hair around his fingers as he – nope. Stop. This isn’t what he came here for. He definitely needed to get laid tonight. Still, Happy could appreciate what a good body looked like. He could feel his dick twitch in his pants.

Pretty soon, the distraction he needed came in form of a young man coming from the back room.

“Hey, welcome to – Tessa? Oh my god, where have you been?” Happy’s eyes narrowed at the man that approached Tessa with enthusiasm. He looked to be about Tessa’s age, hair a deep brown with it shorter on the sides than on the top. Approximately 5’11”, lean, slightly muscular but those muscles were for show, Happy could tell. Happy could take him.

“Hey Steve,” Tessa sent him a small smile. Steve leaned forward at the counter to touch Tessa’s arm and she instinctively stepped back and towards Happy. Happy put a hand on her hip in response to her leaning back towards him. At Tessa’s movement, Steve stopped leaning forward and stepped back behind the counter, eyes snapping down to the hand Happy had possessively on her hip. Steve’s face donned a frown, but in an second, it was gone.

“How are you? It’s good to see you.” Steve held a small smile directed towards Tessa.

“I’m good, thanks for asking. Sorry I’ve been a little MIA, I’ve been busy. Can I get my usual please?” Tessa shot him a grin, like there was an inside joke added to that. Steve shot her a widened, sly smile back. Happy noted the distinct lack of acknowledge from Steve and felt a familiar feeling of irritation crawl up his spine.

“Coming right up,” Steve turned to start whatever order was Tessa’s ‘usual’.

“Wait, Happy did you want anything?” Tessa turned into Happy’s arm, the image they projected was much more intimate than what they actually were with Tessa tucked up under his arm wrapped protectively in his embrace and her looking up at him innocently. Happy knew that this wasn’t her intention but he still felt a deeper level of satisfaction at the dark look Steve shot towards the biker. Happy had to keep a smirk off his face. Happy was competitive by nature, it wasn’t his fault that this felt like a win to him.

“Just a black coffee and whatever she’s gettin’,” Happy reached into his pocket and pulled a twenty out of a large stack of bills, throwing it onto the counter without looking away from Steve. “Will that cover it?” Happy really just said that to rub it in, he figured that whatever they were getting wasn’t going to exceed that.

“Wait, Happy, are you sure? I can pay.” Tessa was looking up at him again, and for a second he forgot about Steve.

“Don’t worry about it, little girl. Go sit down.” Happy tapped her hip as she smiled up at him and turned to find a booth in the corner of the boutique coffeeshop.

“Keep the change,” Happy didn’t try to fight off the smirk this time as he turned and headed to the booth with Tessa already occupying.

“Thanks for buying,” Tessa shot him another grin, but all Happy did was grunt. Two steps forward, five steps back.

“How long ago did this stalking thing start?” Tessa sighed deeply, hoping they wouldn’t have to jump right into this but that didn’t appear to be on Happy’s agenda.

“About a month, maybe a month and half ago. If we’re considering the comments as the start. Again, it was just comments that were a little obscure from the same username that eventually progressed to things that involved personal info. Then they became violent, talking about what he would do to my body but in more, ah, specific details. Didn’t matter if I deleted his comments or blocked his account. He’ll make a new one and he’ll spam me. He would comment on video after video. About a week ago I went to leave my apartment to get help and there was a note on my car. Then I didn’t leave for 5 more days. You were around for the rest.” Tessa’s arms were crossed over her chest, subconsciously rubbing against themselves.

“Where do you spend most of your time?” Tessa took another deep breath.

“I don’t really go anywhere but Diosa and my apartment. I like to come here but I don’t really go anywhere else. I’m kind of a homebody.” Happy’s eyes slid to Steve making Tessa’s drink.

“How do you know this guy?” Happy’s head inclined towards the barista.

“Who, Steve? Actually, we met in college. I didn’t finish and I don’t talk to anyone else who I met there. Steve’s one of my only friends to be honest, kind of sad.” Tessa let out a weak chuckle.

“Why didn’t you finish school?” Happy threw an arm over the back of the booth, epitome of casual.

Tessa took a deep breath, unsure of how to proceed. She’s typically a private person and she didn’t see how much of this even pertained to what Happy needed.

“I needed to pay my bills and my college kicked me out for being a camgirl. Bad press or something.” Tessa didn’t look him in the eye when she said this, she was a terrible liar.

“Don’t lie to me,” his voice came out harsh and viper sharp. Tessa snapped up to look at him.

“I’m not,” it was weak coming out of her mouth. Tessa knew she’d been made but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Happy. “Look, it’s not that simple.”

Happy took a long look at Tessa, surveying the tiny woman in front of him. Her body language screamed uncomfortable.

“Look, I’m sure you don’t wanna tell me what happened but it might help me find the guy doing this.” Tessa shook her head.

“I don’t want this to be everyone’s business.” Tessa lifted her eyes to Happy, hoping to convey the importance of this to her.

“Only those who need to know.” Happy didn’t mention that it would likely being the whole club if it was important information, but he would be the one to determine that.

“I was a camgirl since freshman year, my dad is dead and my mom split when I was a baby. I had to put myself through college. However, it only became a problem for my school when they found out junior year after I was sexually assaulted at a frat party.” Tessa didn’t look at Happy, who didn’t say anything, waiting for Tessa to elaborate.

“I went to think party with my friends, and usually I’m careful with my drinks but I must’ve not been as careful as I thought. I blacked out, I have no idea what happened. Steve found me in the backyard stuffed into a bush with no pants on. I had bruises all over me and a broken rib. Other than the lack of pants, the severe pain that I felt… down there let know that I didn’t just party too hard.” Tessa began to rub her head, a tension headache arising.

“Steve helped me to the ER where a rape kit and toxicology report told me what I already knew, someone had slipped me a roofie and then when I blacked out took whatever he felt like from me. I brought the case to the authorities on campus but because I didn’t know who did it, they wouldn’t even investigate it. A week later, a local journalist got hold of the story about how a college campus let another sexual assault go unchecked and published. The catch was that my work as a camgirl came out with that. The school released me from their programming, stating that my ‘extracurricular activities’ didn’t align with their code of conduct and I was kicked out. The truth is that they were afraid of the PR that would come with a camgirl getting raped at a frat party. You know, all that “well she’s a sex worker, she was asking for it” argument wasn’t something that they wanted to attach to their name.” Tessa shrugged as she recanted the story for Happy. Happy didn’t look all that affected by what she said and to be fair, she was relieved. She didn’t want to deal with the pity involved or the false angry people felt for her.

“When I left the school, Steve was the only one who stuck with me. The friends that I went to the party with acted like I was asking for and that it was my choice to wake up like that in the bushes. Many of them were dating or friends with the guys in the frat who threw the party and kept telling me that none of the guys in the frat would do that, they were ‘nice guys’”, Tessa used air quotes. “So I found an apartment for cheap in Lodi and after a few months of solo work, Diosa found me and cut a contract for me. Best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Happy didn’t let on to how he felt, although he had the sensation of bugs crawling all over him. He could see that this is clearly where her boundary problems came from. To think that you’re investing money into your education and they don’t even have the decency to protect you? They had no problem taking her money from her work but god forbid they treat her like a human. Happy fought off a frown, not wanting to let her know how bothered he was. First, she gets assaulted on campus, then she gets kicked out and now this asshole is literally stalking her. Happy didn’t get men. No pussy was better than willing pussy, and to put someone like her through it all to get your dick wet seemed like… too much work. He could appreciate that she was a very attractive woman, don’t get him wrong. If the opportunity presented itself, he would absolutely let her ride his cock towards her own Kingdom Come, but that didn’t excuse the behavior of the men treating her like this. Still, Happy didn’t feel pity for the woman. Tessa seemed to come out of her previous experience with her humor and strength intact. He saw the way she pulled herself together after finding her apartment a mess and her cat dead. Sitting with her now, Happy didn’t see a single trace of her hardships. He briefly wondered if she just managed to cope through it all, or if she was bottling it all up. In the end it doesn’t matter, what’s done was done, and Happy would do what he would do and make this asshole who thought that he could own her disappear and he would do it gladly.

“Do you have any idea who the guy was?” Tessa looked up at Happy, shaking her head.

“Honestly? Not a clue. To be honest, it’s something that I left behind and I don’t even care who the guy was. Everything about the situation makes my skin crawl and there’s more than one perpetrator here. The college is at fault too.” Happy nodded his head.

“What was the name of the frat?” Tessa thought for a second.

“Alpha Phi? I don’t really know, Greek life wasn’t for me and I didn’t really spend a lot of time there. I didn’t know many of the members and it happened over a year ago now. About two.” Happy nodded again.

In that moment, Steve arrived with plates of their food and the coffees. Happy’s plain black coffee was placed sloppily in front of him, and a drink in a mug with a mountain of whip cream was placed in front of Tessa.

Happy lifted an eyebrow at Tessa, who smiled sleeplessly at Happy. Happy didn’t acknowledge Steve as he placed the food down and a water for Tessa.

“Thanks, Stevie,” Tessa shot him a bright smile.

“Anything for you, Tess,” Steve lingered a second, but one look at Happy and he turned and went back behind the counter, leaving the pair to their coffee and sandwiches.

“Got enough coffee with that pile of whip cream, Tessa?” Happy had a smirk on his face. Tessa’s eyes bore right into Happy’s. Without saying a word, she gathered her hair in one hand on the side of her and leaned down. Happy’s dick twitched again as he watched her little pink tongue sneak out of her mouth to gather up a sizeable bite of the white cream, all while Tessa maintained her eye contact with Happy. Happy’s tongue came out to coat his bottom lip in response, a smirk still plastered on his face. Instantly Happy was brought back to the imagery from earlier, Tessa’s hair wrapped around his fist, hands on her hip, bent over the counter as he slammed into her. This time, the image returned tenfold and with Steve at the counter watching him do it.

Tessa leaned up, and for a second relished the sexual tension in the room. She enjoyed being sexy, she enjoyed being desired. She really enjoyed the look on Happy’s face and the fact that in that moment, he desired her. All thoughts of the woman from the clubhouse had momentarily vanished.

Without warning, Tessa let out a giggle. She wasn’t even sure what she was giggling at, maybe the tension getting to her.

“Oh please, don’t let me stop you.” Happy gestured to the cup of whip creamed coffee. Tessa grabbed the wrapper from her straw and tossed it at Happy, who easily batted it away.

“Shut up,” Tessa was rolling her eyes at Happy, but she felt genuinely at easy. Laughter still stuck on her tongue like the cream and a sly smile playing on her lips.

taglist:

@geeksareunique

#happy lowman #happy lowman fic #sons of anarchy #soa #soa fic #soahappylowman

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manual-4runner-unicorn · 4 years ago

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2000 Toyota 4Runner 4x4 manual 5 speed with supercharger 7th injector and URD pulley. Rear locker Clean California title No rust 199800 miles

Vehicle Details

2000 Toyota 4Runner Sr5 4x4 Supercharged 5 speed manual with rear locker in great condition. Clean California title. This car has zero rust. I’ve had this car for 1 year I bought it with 188k miles it was bone stock all the modifications were done in my ownership. I have listed all the modifications below. All the modicstions were done in 2020 and have less then 9k miles on them. Some things were done in the last 30 days. This car has only quality parts and is extremely reliable and will take you virtually anywhere you want to go. I am also including some spare parts with the vehicle that I have listed below. It has TRD 1st gen Eaton M62 Supercharger with urd 7th injector urd 2.2 pulley and urd fuel calibration unit. The only issue with the vehicle is that the sunroof does not open other then that the car has no issues no leaks from the drive drain or anywhere else no problems at all.

Engine

New NGK Spark plug wires

Fresh Toyota Red Coolant

Radiator cap

Radiator

Idler pulley

Ac, Power steering and alternator belts

Fuel filter

Heater control valve

Radiator hoses

Timing belt and water pump 197k

Cleaned fuel injectors by motor west performance 197k

Valve cover gaskets 197k

Walbro 255 High pressure fuel pump 197k

Urd fuel calibration unit

Trd 1st gen supercharger Eaton m62 197k

With fresh oil change and replaced coupler

Urd 7th injector

2.2 pulley

Magnuson dynamic tensioner kit

Denso IK22 spark plugs

Air raid intake tube

Optima group 31 battery under 3 year warranty

6 spot billet battery terminals

Suspension

Oem LBJ’s-130 198500

Front end links and sway bar bushings

Rear Sway bar links and bushings

Revtek Diff drop

SPC UCA’s

Kings 2.5 front coilovers

Bilstein 5100s 33-187174

New Inner tie rods

New Outer tie rods

Solo motorsports upgraded rack and pinion

Total chaos rack and pinion bushings

White line front lower control arm bushings

Durobumps Extended bump stops front and rear

Eimkeith Pan hard correction kit

Interior

Scanner gauge

Aem AFR gauge

Cluster and climate control leds

Led map light

Led dome lights

Led trunk light

Mounted fire extinguisher

Mounted flashlight

12 inch sub

Alpine amp

Pioneer head unit

Alpine speakers and tweeters

Ac was just recharged and dryer was replaced

Exterior

Factory sport hood and limited fender flares

Snorkel

Arb front bumper

Custom rock sliders

Sherpa roof rack

RCI Full Skid plates

New Windshield

Depo Led tail lights

Rad rubber splash guards

Bx headlights

Falken wild peaks

Method mr301 16 inch wheels

Tundra brake upgrade

Drilled and slotted rotors

Steel extended brake lines

Master cylinder

Smittybilt XRC 9.5k Gen2 9500lbs winch with aluminum fairlead and Apex hook

2 Amber Led lights on bumper

Extras

2 sets of keys and fobs

Rear diff fluid 196k

Front diff fluid 192865

Transfer case fluid 193460

Transmission fluid 192870

Extended diff breather

Installed Toyota Electronic Rear Locker

Extended rear diff breather

Low range off-road locker motor guard

Spare Parts

lower ball joints

Outer tie rods

Cv axle

belts

fuel pump

Radiator cap

Radiator hoses

Spare MAF sensor

Year:2000

VIN (Vehicle Identification Number):JT3HN86R0Y0287137

Mileage:199800

Number of Cylinders:6

Exterior Color:Grey

Trim:SR5

Model: 4Runner

Body Type:SUV

Transmission:Manual

Drive Type:4WD

Engine:3.4L Gas V6

Vehicle Title:Clean

Make:Toyota

Fuel Type:Gasoline

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wftc141 · 4 years ago

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Voltron: Global Military Intelligence and Counter-Terrorism Unit-Chapter 13: The Crusade

TWO MONTHS LATER

26/04/2018

1723 Hours

Colombia

The clouds cast over the partially empty dirt road, surrounded by the greenery of the countryside. The winds brushed off the fields and the trees outside a village a few kilometers nearby. Perfect place to be isolated from the crowds and perfect to slip by unnoticed. A second Voltron team, dubbed ‘Tigers’ have been deployed in Colombia to intercept a group of terrorists reported to have gotten hold of an unknown cargo, possibly a chemical weapon, from Europe. Coran and his analysts, Gold and Colbert, have been overseeing the mission through a drone watching the team down below amongst the clouds.

The team has been split on different sides of the road, blending in with the greenery among the hillside. Team leader Lieutenant Damon Halliday, former SAS, had been keeping watch on the road waiting for the convoy to arrive. He had his rifle ready, mounted on the grassy hill with two of his other teammates, Montgomery and Yeon. The last two of the five Tigers, Garceau and Okusanya, guarded the other side with Garceau being an experienced sniper for the team.

“Got visual on the convoy.” Montgomery said.

Halliday took out his binoculars to check and noticed a faint sight of several vehicles from a distance with a truck towing a cargo container as well.

“I see it. Two vehicles and one truck.” Halliday acknowledged.

“Should we call it in?” Montgomery asked.

Halliday nodded and reached for his comms to report. “White Tiger to Zero, we have eyes on the convoy. Ready to strike, over.”

“Copy, White Tiger. You are clear to engage, over.” Coran responded.

“Copy, Zero. Out.”

Halliday then looked back at the convoy which was now closing in on their position and readied his rifle.

“All Tigers engage!”

The team opened fire on the convoy, hitting the vehicle tires and taking out the drivers. The convoy stopped as the terrorists got out to fire back. Montgomery and Yeon took out some of the terrorists on one side of the convoy while Garceau’s marksmanship picked off the remaining as well as Okusanya’s swift mowdown with his LMG. Shortly, the gunfire ceased and all of the terrorists were on the ground motionless.

“Clear!” Halliday said.

“Clear!” Garceau replied.

“White Tiger to Zero, hostiles are neutralized and the convoy is clear, over.”

“Copy,” Coran said. “Investigate the cargo. We need to identify its contents before deciding on our next move, over.”

Halliday then got his team to approach the convoy stranded in the middle of nowhere, weapons raised in case of anything happening. The team checked the bodies to make sure they’re dead before checking the truck.

“Montgomery, Okusanya, check the truck.” Halliday ordered.

“Roger.”

The two approached the truck with heightened caution. Montgomery opened the door and dragged the body out to check inside the cockpit. Okusanya approached the rear door and felt for any way to open it. The rest of the team kept their distance while guarding the convoy. Halliday heard the doors open and turned towards the truck where Montgomery and Okusanya were as they stepped into the truck.

“Boss?” Montgomery called shortly. “We got ourselves something worse than just chemicals.��

“What is it?” Halliday asked.

“Uh,” Okusanya replied. “A bunch of mercury and sulfur, lots of toxic shit mixed into the barrels!”

“White Tiger to Zero, we got ourselves some sort of toxic substances, possibly a chemical bomb. Awaiting orders, over.”

A brief pause after Halliday relayed the report.

“Copy, White Tiger,” Coran replied. “Retrieve a sample and exfil, over.” “Roger. Out.”

Halliday was about to get an order ready before he was suddenly rocked back by a sudden explosion. Shielding himself from the blast, Halliday stumbled away from the truck as the deafening ring echoed in his head. Once he looked back, Halliday noticed the truck engulfed in flames and slowly coated in black ash. He then realized something. “Montgomery, Okusanya! Come in, over!” Halliday shouted through his comms.

There was nothing from the other end. Halliday had no reason to deny that both Montgomery and Okusanya are dead, consumed by the explosion while they were inside the truck. His breathing continued to pace as he looked around, finding both Garceau and Yeon still intact. Halliday quickly rushed over to the two.

“You okay?” He said.

“We’re okay, sir!” Yeon replied.

“I’m good,” Garceau let out a cough. “Putain d’enfer. What happened to Montgomery and Okusanya?”

“They’re dead. They were inside the truck.” Halliday said.

“Merde! What now?”

“White Tiger to Zero, Red Tiger and Grey Tiger are KIA and the cargo is destroyed! Repeat, Red and Grey Tiger are KIA and the cargo is destroyed! We need an evac, over!”

“Negative, White Tiger,” Coran said. “Can’t send in an evac now but we’re noticing toxic substances from the truck heading your way. Get the hell away from it now, over.” Coran said.

Halliday looked over to the truck and noticed a mix of yellow and green clouds emerging from the burning truck.

“Bollocks!” He cursed before standing up. “Tigers! Get clear from the truck, now!”

The team wasted no time to get away from the convoy, forced to leave both Montgomery and Okusanya behind, though there was no way to recover what was left of them. Once they got to a safer distance, Halliday was about to reach for his comms.

“Hey, bossman,” Garceau said, grabbing Halliday’s attention. “I think we got company.”

Halliday looked at where Garceau was staring at and noticed a group of cars driving towards their position.

“The hell?” Halliday muttered as the vehicles closed in.

Suddenly, gunshots began to zip towards them. The team ducked down and tried to use the vehicles as cover. Halliday braced as gunshots hit the vehicles behind him.

“White Tiger to Zero, we’re under heavy fire from unknown hostiles! We need that bloody evac right now!”

He peeked through the corner and noticed several gunmen coming out of their cars.

He couldn’t count the exact amount but there were a lot of gunmen with military-grade body armor over their clothes. Halliday managed to shoot some of them down but more took their places. He noticed his comms didn’t reach out to base and the response was nothing but static. He could hear anything from them. His team were struggling against the gunmen. Halliday noticed the gas slowly emerging further towards them. There was no other choice but to run into the forest.

“All Tigers retreat!” He shouted as he made a break for the forest.

The team ran towards the forest. Halliday looked behind his shoulder and noticed Yeon tripping over and falling onto the ground. Some of the gunmen reached Yeon and fired their rifles at him. Halliday looked away, knowing Yeon sealed his fate. Now it was just him and Garceau. The two stopped by some trees and took cover behind them.

“Where the fuck’s Yeon?!” Garceau shouted.

“Bastards got him!” Halliday replied.

He heard Garceau curse in French before hearing shouts from afar. Halliday noticed more gunmen chasing after them and opened fire. He managed to take out a few before running empty. As Halliday switched to his pistol, he looked at Garceau about to open fire with his rifle, only to get shot in the shoulder and fall over into a pit behind him.

“Garceau!” Halliday shouted.

Out of newfound determination, Halliday got out of cover and fired across the forest to draw out as many gunmen as he could. He couldn’t see them through the canopies and the bushes shrouded among the trees. Suddenly, a bullet hit his leg and his arm. Halliday let out a shout before falling over onto the dirt, landing on some tree roots. He couldn’t feel his right hand as he struggled to reach for his gun while holding the wound to keep it from bleeding further.

Footsteps rustled and closed in. The rest of the gunmen arrived, approaching him with their weapons aimed at him. Some approached the pit Garceau fell into. Halliday noticed one of them bore a ski mask with sunglasses under his helmet, as well as more kitted out gear than the others. Halliday could assume this was the team leader.

“¿Qué hacemos con a él, señor?” One of the gunmen asked the leader.

The leader glared at Halliday before turning to his men. “Llévalo a él con nosotros.”

“Sí, señor. ¡Agarrarlo! ¡Vamos!”

The gunmen approached Halliday and grabbed his arms, lifting him up to drag him away.

“Get your bloody hands off me, you bastards!” He cursed as he struggled to wrestle free.

Halliday continued to struggle and kick away fruitlessly while the gunmen held on without breaking a sweat. Suddenly, he heard Garceau shout from the pit before shots were fired. Halliday then noticed one of the gunmen rip off a tracking device from his vest before glancing at him. His comms are already screwed and his team is dead. Halliday has no idea who these people are but they are definitely involved with the terrorists. His impulse rocketed and he continued to rock aggressively as he shouted curses at his attackers. Suddenly, everything went black, not before he noticed a gunman thrust a rifle butt at him.

Coran, Gold and Colbert stared in silence, jaws open. They watched the whole ordeal unwind from their surveillance room in the hideout until they lost sight of Tiger and their leader Halliday. All of this started to go sideways when the truck exploded suddenly and then an unexpected group of hostiles arrived.

“Bloody hell. What just happened?” Gold asked.

“A lot just happened, son,” Coran said. “We just lost contact with Tiger.”

“And the comms couldn’t reach out to them for some reason. It was working fine a while ago! Something must’ve jammed the signal.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of this. We need to get Lion recalled.”

“Are you sure, sir?” Colbert asked. “They just took care of the Galra issue a few months back and they’re still off-duty.”

“I’m positive, Colbert. This isn’t just some simple issue. We just lost an important team from NATO and a man I call my friend to a group of unknowns. They’ll understand soon enough. Recall them.”

Colbert knew it wasn’t her position to debate. She simply nodded and turned towards her computer.

“Yes, sir. We’ll send out the recall.”

________________________________________

27/04/2018

0647 Hours

Macon, USA

A white Ford Escape slowly drove by the side a few blocks away from a suburban house situated outside of Macon. The sun was still rising and the people inside were up and running. Once the SUV stopped, the doors opened and two people got out, both a man and a woman. Both of them wore jackets under their shirts and jeans with gloves. They walked up to the house down the path near the forest, adjusting their sleeves as they focused on the house.

Once they reached the front door, Hunter 1 simply glanced at the camera from the left corner. These weren’t their average American neighbors. They were agents working under extremists, hiding in the US with plans in motion. The camera itself was way too advanced for a normal neighbor.

“Who is it?” A voice asked from the other side, with a good American accent.

“Девять-четыре-восемь-балалайка.” Hunter 2 replied.

The two waited for the response. They already acquired their password earlier on which could fool the agents that they are on their side. As soon as the door unlocked, the two pulled out their suppressed MP7s with Hunter 1 opening fire on the door. Entering the house, Hunter 1 walked over the body and stormed into the surveillance room to his left where he took out the agents trying to reach for their guns. None of them prepared for a surprise like this.

As Hunter 2 continued her sweep on the ground floor, Hunter 1 moved upstairs and heard footsteps from above and in a room and the sound of a window opening. He knew they were trying to make a run for it. But they weren’t the only ones.

“Hunter 3, you got rabbits coming out of the house from the back.” He said.

Hunter 1 reached the upper floor to check the rooms which most of them were empty. He then heard some faint muffled shots from outside.

“Hunter 1, this is Hunter 3. Rabbits are down.” Hunter 3 replied from the comms.

After searching the entire house, Hunter 2 began gathering the intel from the servers in one of the rooms while Hunter 1 found a fuel canister and started pouring gasoline all across the house, over the bodies and everything else to cover their tracks before ending the trail by the front door. Once Hunter 2 left the house with the intel in tow, Hunter 1 lit a match and tossed it onto the trail. Flames lit up and spread towards the trail like wildfire and by the time it reached the end, the house was burning, smoke levitating to the sky. Shortly, the two met up with Hunter 3, an African-American male, carrying his sniper rifle and bag with the ghillie suit used for the operation.

“All good?” Hunter 3 asked.

“Hell yeah, brother.” Hunter 1 answered.

“Russia’s gonna owe us for this one.” Hunter 2 said.

“They should,” Hunter 1 briskly concealed his weapon as he approached the SUV. “We just took out their corrupt FSB team since they don’t want to kill their own.”

“They would let us do this anyway since they’re in our country.” Hunter 3 said.

“We would’ve done the same thing if we had corrupt agents.”

“Would we?” Hunter 2 asked.

“Maybe.”

Once the team got into their SUV, they drove off and away from the burning house, leaving the rest to the police.

“Hunter 1, hostiles are neutralized and we have secured the intel, over.” Hunter 1 reported through his comms.

“Confirmed,” His supervisor replied. “Be advised, you are now given a new assignment. There will be a plane set for Colombia where you will work with Voltron. We have a situation that is urgent.”

Hunter 1 suddenly froze after hearing the name. He wanted to say no but that would be against his supervisor’s wishes. Hunter 1 scowled and eventually nodded.

“Copy, Hunter 1 out.” He grudgingly said.

Once he got off the comms, he slammed the steering wheel of the car, puzzling his teammates who looked at him confused.

“Fuck!” Hunter 1 swore.

“Matt?” Hunter 2 asked.

Hunter 1 panted as he glared out at the windscreen facing the freeway. Both Hunter 2 and 3 exchanged glances, waiting for his response.

“The last thing I wanted was to see them again.” Matt growled.

________________________________________

27/04/2018

0745 Hours

Hawaii

Shiro let out a yelp as he jolted upright from a nightmare. As cold sweat ran down his body, his breathing rate was accelerated with his heart racing from the sudden experience from the nightmare. Shiro looked around frantically, finding himself in the bed he was in last night. It was just a dream. Just a dream. Although he noticed apart from the many nightmares he had for his entire life, this one saw him die.

“You alright?”

Shiro turned to his side and noticed his bedside was empty and saw Allura approaching him fully dressed. She must’ve heard him shout from his nightmare. Shiro gave himself a breather to calm himself down.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Just a bad dream, that’s all.”

“What was it this time?” Allura asked.

Shiro then saw a vision of someone familiar standing by his side. He swore he remembered that vision but he just couldn’t make it out.

“Shiro?”

The face was clearer and he realized he was the man from his nightmare.

“It was Adam…”

Allura’s mouth gaped wide as she stared in disbelief, knowing she herself knew Adam before. Shiro couldn’t believe his eyes either. He had never seen Adam in his dreams ever since Lahore.

“How did it-”

“Same as always,” Shiro quickly answered. “I wasn’t able to save him from that explosion.”

Adam was Shiro’s first. They both developed a bond that turned into love during Shiro’s time with the SEAL Team Six. Adam was a CIA agent who was killed in Camp Chapman in 2009. Shiro recalled trying to save him before the explosion consumed him right before his eyes. He had blamed himself ever since then and carried that guilt for his entire life.

“It wasn’t your fault, Shiro.” Allura said.

Shiro doesn’t reply. Suddenly, he heard his phone buzz from his nightstand and he reached over to see the message. As soon as he saw the message, Shiro immediately got out of bed and got dressed with Allura waiting for him. Voltron was calling them back in and surprisingly, it was earlier than usual.

________________________________________

27/04/2018

1146 Hours

Somewhere in Texas, USA

“700 meters moving down the rock side,” Lance reported using his spotter scope. “Got eyes on him?”

“Yeah, Got that son of a bitch.” Keith replied, focusing his sniper scope on the field as he laid on the hill frontside.

The scope caught sight of a mountain lion sneaking it’s way to a herd of sheeps in the farm’s field. Calculating the distance and controlling his breathing, Keith pulled the trigger. The bullet looked to be heading straight for the mountain lion but it hit the ground below it, scaring it away. The two watch the mountain lion scurry away down the hill.

“Fuck! It’s gone.” Keith cursed, slamming his hand on the mat.

“Well, the good thing is…you scared it away.” Lance assured.

“The bad thing is he’ll come back. Fucking mountain lions.”

“I mean, can you blame ‘em? Circle of life.”

“My cattle aren’t food.”

“Technically, sheeps are food.”

“I don’t eat sheep.”

Lance slowly glanced at Keith, surprised by his suddenness.

“Really?” He asked.

“Really.” Keith answered.

“What are you, an animal lover?”

“I am, actually.”

“But you were eating burgers.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Fuck you mean it doesn’t count? You’re eating a dead cow, cabrón.”

“It was a mystery burger.”

Lance realized what he was talking about and scrunched up his nose.

“You mean that nasty, tasteless, bootlegged one that vegans eat?” Lance guessed.

Keith nodded. “Yup. You should try it.”

“Do I look like a fucking cow to you?”

“Oh, so you’re saying vegans are cow eaters, huh?”

“I’m just saying I’ll take meat over plants any day now.”

“Your parents never gave you broccoli since you were a kid?”

“Dude, they had me eating meat so I could grow big and strong. Me and my siblings. Hell, my brother and sister fed the same meat to my niece and nephew.”

“Uh huh. My dad did way worse than that. I had to hunt.”

“I thought you’re an animal lover?”

“I was hunting predators who were trying to eat my cattle.”

“Huh. Good point.’

The two went into silence, staring down at the field where the cows were, still chewing on the grass.

“You know, I was wondering,” Lance asked. “How are you paying for all this?”

Keith scratched his face. “After my dad passed away from cancer, guys from his old Force Recon unit managed to take all of the bills and taxes so I can take care of the farm. They never told me how but I’m basically living free…for now.”

Just then, they heard sounds of rotors spinning faintly. The sounds began to get closer until the two saw a Blackhawk from a distance approaching their area. The helicopter lowered itself beside the field, causing the sheeps to scatter away, bleating as they galloped.

“Hey, Keith.”

“Yeah.”

“A fucking Blackhawk just landed on your field...right next to your sheeps.”

“Yup.”

Leaving their equipment behind, Keith and Lance approached the Blackhawk and once they got close, they noticed Pidge get off the helicopter and approach the two, surprising them both.

“Pidge?” Keith called.

“You two! Lets go!” Pidge demanded.

“What’s going on?” Lance asked.

“We got a mission, obviously! Get in!”

Keith and Lance exchanged glances and nodded before getting inside the Blackhawk. As the two entered, Keith got out his phone and dialed the number as the helicopter ascended from the ground.

“Hey Alice, I need you to watch over the farm…”

________________________________________

27/04/2018

0800 Hours

Sydney, Australia

Hunk was just finishing up on the omelettes he was making. He was about finished with the side of the nearly complete piece of omelette. The scent of salt and eggs surrounded the entire apartment as the air passed through the open balcony door. Hunk had already prepared the fillings and the first omelette was just about done with the last one. As he finished up prepping the omelettes, he turned around and noticed Shay wasn’t up.

After his mission in Brazil, he ended up spending some time with Shay at Sydney during his time off-duty. Flash-forward, the two went into a relationship and Hunk moved into Shay’s apartment in Pyrmont since he can’t really go back to Fort Benning. During his time with Shay, he got to learn a lot about her, both her work and her life outside. Hunk had noticed Shay had been sleeping in a lot more than usual, though he didn’t blame her.

Covering the breakfast to preserve the heat, Hunk headed into their bedroom where he noticed Shay still in bed, covers sprawled all across with one of her bare legs exposed. Her untied hair spread out over the pillow like seaweed. She looked as if she was spooning a pillow. Hunk could hear her light snores as he approached her, even when he was the first to wake up way before her. He even did a morning jog at six and she was still fast asleep. Hunk sat on the bedside and he couldn’t help but take a gander at her beauty even at its unkempt nature. He moved a lock of her hair covering her eye aside before slightly tucking it behind her ear.

The curtains were still closed so maybe that could wake her up. Hunk stood up and went up to the curtains and opened it up, letting the sun into the room. The light brightened the bedroom and Hunk got a clean view of the bay overlooking the city. Then, he heard a moan from behind and turned around, noticing Shay was slowly waking up. Hunk reached her side and checked up on her as her eyes slightly opened.

“Morning, Hunk…” She lazily said.

“Morning, Shay,” Hunk replied, grinning. “Slept well?”

Shay turned over onto her back as she tried to close her eyes. “Mmm. Five more minutes, please.”

Hunk chuckled. “I already got breakfast ready. Bacon onion omelettes. It’s gonna get cold soon.”

He noticed a smile creep across her face while her eyes were still closed.

“Okay, you win,” she muttered before sitting herself up. “I’m up. I’m up.”

As Shay stretched her arms, Hunk got off the bed and headed back into the kitchen to get breakfast ready. Shortly, as Hunk placed the plates of omelettes and glasses of orange juice on the table, he looked up to see Shay walking towards him wearing her sweatshirt and shorts from bed. Her hair was still left untied.

“Smells nice.” Shay said as she leaned over to kiss Hunk.

“It’s your favourite.” Hunk replied.

The two sat down and began to eat their breakfast. Shay took a bite of the omelette, sliding the fork into her mouth.

“So good as always.” She said as she ate.

Hunk chuckled. “Glad you still like it. I added something to make it tastier.”

“What’d you add?”

“Parsley.”

“Can’t really taste it but it’s still yummy. You should be my personal chef.”

Hunk chuckled as he watched her eat up. He knew Shay wasn’t the greatest cook surprisingly but he didn’t mind. As long as she likes it, he’s happy. The two continued to eat, talking about work and Shay’s sleeping habit. Then, she got into a different subject.

“You know,” she said. “You never told me why you wanted to be a soldier when you could’ve been a chef.”

“You never asked.” Hunk answered.

“I’m asking now.”

“Well, since you asked nicely, I always wanted to be a cook because my father was a cook back in the Navy. He was really good at it and I wanted to be like him.”

“But why the army?”

“The attacks on my home gave me the motivation.”

Hunk then took another bite of the omelette before going for the glass of juice.

“You know, you never told me about your family or why you wanted to be a war correspondent for Vice.” Hunk said.

“You never asked.” Shay replied.

“I’m asking now.”

“Since you asked politely,” she paused for a moment. “I was never a huge fan of the military or the war. I only became a war correspondent so I can understand why people go to war...and see the cost of it.”

Hunk then noticed she'd stopped eating. Her expression darkened.

“I saw so many people in the Middle East die in front of my eyes,” Shay continued. “Men, women, children. I even lost close friends of mine. Everytime I sleep, I keep seeing flashes of everything that I’ve seen. I want everyone to see why war is hell and what the cost of it is.”

Hunk had stopped eating too but he was already finished by then. He never thought Shay would end up in a situation like this. Thinking about it makes Hunk feel ashamed for being a soldier, considering how many people he killed. Was he actually the type for Shay?

“I’m sorry you had to go through all this.” Hunk muttered, looking down to his hands on the table.

Shay looked at Hunk in confusion before realizing why.

“Hunk...I didn’t mean-”

Suddenly, Hunk’s phone started buzzing from his pocket. He pulled it out and after noticing the notification, he sighed.

“Great.” Hunk muttered in disappointment as he stood up.

“Work?” Shay guessed, standing up as well.

Hunk looked at Shay, feeling bad to just leave like this. He really wanted to spend more time with her.

“I’m sorry-”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Shay said. “Get out there.”

Hunk was still upset that he had to leave Shay but he knew that there was no other option. Hunk then began to gather his gear from the bedroom and then made his way to the door. He was about to unlock the door.

“Hey.” Shay called.

Hunk stopped and turned around, noticing Shay approaching him. She then leaned forward, kissing him for a while before pulling away.

“Be safe.” Shay whispered.

Hunk smiled and nodded. “Will do.”

Just like that, Hunk walked out of the door and headed off to the elevator. Both Shay and Hunk prayed for the safety of each other and themselves.

________________________________________

28/04/2018

1132 Hours

Colombia

The Lions of Voltron, all dressed in their uniforms, have arrived at the US air base in Colombia. They were directed to a briefing room for a meeting where they will soon meet someone. The only members who were missing were Coran and his analysts. Some time has passed and nothing much has happened, leaving the team in the dark.

“Well, this is weird.” Lance said.

“In what way?” Keith asked.

“Isn’t it obvious? We just landed in Colombia and none of us knows what the hell’s going on.”

“Lance’s got a point,” Pidge said. “Not only that, where’s Lieutenant Smythe and his computer team?”

“I know you guys are concerned,” Shiro butted in. “Me and Major Brooks have no idea what’s going on either. But we were obviously called here for a reason. Why else would NATO go to all the trouble bringing us here?”

“Why not bring NATO’s best counter terrorism unit?”

The team turned around to the sound and noticed Coran standing by the door, accompanied by another person. He looked to be a Native American man in his 50s with long brown hair, a beard and a vertical scar on his right eye.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Allura said, standing up and approaching the man alongside Shiro with a smile. “So glad to see you again.”

Allura and the Native American man both hugged.

“You too, Brooks,” The man said as he and Allura broke the hug. He then went up to Shiro for a hug. “Same goes for you, Shiro.”

“Yeah. Good to see you too, old friend.”

Allura and Shiro then turned around to their team, who were unfamiliar with the man.

“Team,” Shiro said. “This is Bryce Kolivan, Station Chief of the CIA.”

“And I’m guessing he’s the spook who handed us the mission to go after the Galra in Brazil.” Lance said.

“Sure was. Had faith that Voltron would get the job done.” Kolivan answered.

“So what’s going on here that you want us to handle?” Allura asked.

Kolivan’s grin faded and he let out a deep, grim sigh.

“Lieutenant Smythe was helping us intercept a terrorist group smuggling in some sort of unknown cargo, possibly a weapon, into Colombia from Europe.”

“Tiger was sent to interrupt the convoy,” Coran added. “They succeeded in eliminating the terrorists but unfortunately…they were ambushed. Four of the team members were killed while their leader Damon Halliday was captured. Colombian Special Forces have already recovered the bodies of Tiger at the scene, although they had to quarantine the truck containing lethal chemicals.”

The news hit particularly Shiro, Coran and Allura, although the others felt neutral since they never heard about another Voltron team other than them. Damon Halliday to Coran was a close friend and a capable soldier with lots to tell. The news that Halliday got taken was hard to get over.

“Who took him?” Shiro asked.

“From what we’ve gathered, we believe Halliday was captured by the Colombian cartel Los Cruzados,” Kolivan answered. “The cartel consists of local triggermen who either used to serve in the army or law enforcement. They’re very ruthless and deadly and have been described as potentially the Medellín Cartel’s successor as they’re already considered to be narcoterrorists. They have murdered numerous government and military officials to the point where the government themselves are afraid to fight back.”

“Do we have a location on where they took Halliday?” Allura asked.

Kolivan shook his head. “No need for that. I already have a Ground Branch team boots on the ground searching for him. Your intel team found Halliday’s last known location. Hopefully he’s still alive by then.”

________________________________________

1300 Hours

Colombia

Matt Holt cut through some vines as he and his team ventured through the Colombian jungle. Their supervisor had already pinpointed the location of their objective at a shack somewhere in the jungle. From the skies, they had two analysts of Voltron watching the team through a stealth drone. Jem and Stacy watched from the feed as the Hunter team moved through the jungle, closing in on the destination.

“Hunter 1 to Zero, we have reached the target building but no signs of any hostiles. Are you positive that this is the building, over?”

“Yes, Hunter 1. Positive.”

“It better be, out.”

Just as he got off the comms, Jem sighed as he stared at the screen annoyed before turning to Stacy.

“This is like - the fifth time this Hunter 1 guy kept bugging us on whether the location is right or not. Didn’t his CIA mates make it clear to him?” Jem said.

“He didn’t seem too happy to be working with us.” Stacy replied.

“Yeah. You saw the way he glared at us for most of the time when we first met, right? I mean, what is his problem anyway?”

“Hell if I know, Jem.”

The team stayed at their position for a while, not moving from their spot.

“Matt, are we good to go?” Hunter 3 asked.

Sighing, Matt signaled his team to move. The two watched as Matt and his team approached the building as seen by their heat signatures. The team stacked up by the entrance with Hunter 2 tossing a flashbang through the door gap into the room. After the loud bang, the team stormed in with weapons raised as they prepared to open fire. However, no shots were fired and Jem noticed the building was empty. The team then began to sweep the area for hostiles.

“Clear!” Hunter 2 said.

“Clear on my end!” Hunter 3 followed up.

Jem and Stacy waited for Matt who was still checking the rooms without a word.

“Hunter 1 to Zero, we’re seeing nothing here, over.” Matt hissed.

“Intel said there would be hostiles there, over.”

“Well, the intel you got was fucking wrong. Just look how Voltron turned out.”

Jem noticed Matt sounded like he has resentment towards Voltron for whatever reason.

“Hey Matt! You better come look at this!” Hunter 2 called.

Matt and Hunter 3 went up to Hunter 2 who was in one of the rooms. Once they got there, the two noticed blood stains on plastic wrapping alongside chopped fingers on a bloodied table, presumably Halliday’s.

“Seems like they were here,” Hunter 3 said. “Somehow they knew we were coming.”

Matt didn’t say anything but he simply sighed before turning to his team.

“Lets get the fuck out of here.”

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an-oger-in-the-wild · 5 years ago

Text

Kora, “the Black Caiman”

Steal my PC!

I had the idea for this character while in the shower (you know, where everyone does their best thinking).

Backstory first, stats as a third-level PC at the bottom.

The Black Caiman

In Chult, if the jungle is not part of you, you become part of the jungle. The same goes for any who make their living off the jungle’s many members, be they flora or fauna – it matters not whether you live within the bush: you have to be able to handle yourself while visiting it.

Father taught me this firsthand. He was a butcher with a shop situated on the bay. When livestock was scarce, we would make hunting trips to the jungle in search of what he liked to call “rare and exotic meats” (which, as an adult, I now know to mean nothing more than “times are hard, what can we find to chop up and sell as food”).

He told me many stories about the jungle, how it teemed with secrets and wonder, how it contained ruins of civilizations long-lost to the ages. I had dreams as a child to someday uncover these mysteries.

But childhood is fleeting.

One day, while helping in the shop, Father asked me for help. He handed me his large butcher knife and guided me to the heavy, oak butcher block on the counter. A pampas buck hung in the corner of the shop, dripping its life source into the stone basin on the floor beneath it, and one of its legs were waiting for me on the block, skinned and ready to process. The familiar smell of warm, irony liquid filled my nostrils, a smell that has always reminded me of home, of the shop, of my father.

“We need to be able to take care of each other,” Father said as he stepped up behind me, ready to instruct. “I know how to do your jobs around the shop, so it’s time for you to learn mine.”

With the patience of a saint, Father taught me how to process the doe’s leg. He guided me verbally, giving direction when needed, but it was I who held the knife. I had watched him do this so many times, and certain cuts felt like I had already done them before as my hand operated with an almost muscle-memory-like precision at some points.

When I finished, I knew it was by no means the level of perfection that my father’s work normally was, and my apron was absolutely covered in blood; but I had done it myself, and for that I was proud. Father was, too – and from that point on, he allowed me to work side by side with him in the shop.

It was a hot, already sweltering morning the day we visited the marshes. Father said that caiman were easier to catch on land than in the swamp, and today they would be sun-bathing on the banks, soaking up rays. Caiman meat sold for a pretty copper, and Father said we needed the coin.

Father gave me the task of fashioning snares while he scouted ahead to look for which reptilian we would mark as our prey: the plan was to drag some scraps of a recent lamb we had butchered along a path at just a quick enough pace to lure the creature into following it – then, as it crossed over our trap, we would spring the net to hoist it into the air, allowing us the opportunity to slay it without any risk to ourselves. The jungle had other plans though.

As I knelt, positioning the rope over the path and camouflaging it with foliage, I heard the screams of my father and the splashing and thrashing of water. I grabbed the first knife I could reach from our field dressing kit and took off into the brush, vaulting felled trees and mowing down bushes as an emotion altogether foreign to me began to manifest itself within my chest. Bursting through the treeline, my eyes were met with the sight of my father being barrel-rolled by a massive beast – they spun, scale versus scale, through the water in tight twirls, a macabre dance to the death, with my father expelling shouts of anguish and fury simultaneously with each break above the surface.

I ran, producing a primal scream so beyond what I had ever thought myself capable of making as I leapt out over the shallow pool and onto the back of the fifteen-foot caiman. Looping my legs around its sides like one might ride a mount, I plunged my blade into its back and side over and over again, the smell of blood reminding me why I was there, why I fought. My mind whirled like the beast I battled, but it was not fear that filled me: it was something stronger, more powerful, more empowering – RAGE. With a bestial spark burning within, I gave myself over to this strange spirit as it surfaced from deep inside me: I bit with bone-crunching force and clawed with armor-slashing strength at the caiman as we twisted beneath the shallows of the swamp.

When the caiman fell limp, I waded over to pull Father from its jaws. I held his lifeless body close to my chest, watching his life source drip from gaping wounds amid his ebony-black scales. I buried him there, along that bank, not long after I had depleted the swamp of every last caiman. Without Father to run the shop, customers dwindled to nothingness. I took that as the sign I needed to sell the shop – dealing with the customers only frustrated me.

Everything anymore frustrated me.

With the gold in my pocket for I know not what, I set off into the jungle. For in Chult, if the jungle is not part of you, you become part of the jungle.

Name: Kora, aka “the Black Caiman”

Race: dragonborn, black dragon heritage

Class: barbarian, Path of the Beast

Background: haunted one

#dnd #dnd 5e character #dragonborn #barbarian #haunted one #RAGE #steal my character #character backstory

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vertanimeni · 5 years ago

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the ice will start to break, the day will fade away (6/18)

Summary:

“Have you heard? The Elephant of Caocin has committed high treason!”

From Trikru’s most reputable war hero to Trikru’s most wanted traitor, Kova found themselves stripped of their titles and trapped between a clan that wants them dead and a camp of invaders - the same ones who kidnapped and tortured their brother.

But Kova was willing to do anything to stay alive and keep their family together.

Pairing: Bellamy/Grounder OC

Word Count: 5,428

TW: Canon typical violence, violent flashback, healing/medicine.

A/N: Hi hi! After some convincing from my friends, I decided to post this series here :D I’ve already finished with season 1 and half of season 2, I’m just in the middle of re-writing and editing. If you’re reading through my blog, the read more does not show up due to Tumblr’s new formatting, so please click on the post itself. I’ll be updating every other day at 12pm EST. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

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⟻ Previous Chapter || Masterlist || Next Chapter ⟼

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vi. irreconcilable.

“Everyone gather around!" Clarke summoned the camp to the platform where she and Bellamy stood. He prepared to explain the events leading up to the situation of having a grounder as a neighbor until Clarke spoke first. “With the help of two grounders, Lincoln and Kova, we attempted to make peace with one of their leaders.” Her words started low rumbles of whispers throughout the group. Clarke paused. Unsure of what to say next, she needed to come up with a reason for Kova’s stay without alarming them.

As if on cue, Bellamy spoke up. “Due to miscommunication, the meeting didn’t work out as we had hoped. I know this is difficult and, trust me, I understand why you’re all angry. We have a lot to talk about, especially after last night."

“But since Kova helped us, the grounders consider them as a traitor.” Clarke surprised herself with how flawlessly she came up with that excuse. “They were injured in the process and had no other place to go, so we brought them here.” The murmuring in the crowd increased and some people grew agitated. "Think of it this way." Clarke raised her hands up. "They could help us find a better water source and food, maybe even teach us about the land."

"How do we know this grounder won’t try to kill us while we’re asleep?” One shouted out, adding gas to the flaming panic within the group.

“Because they were injured. They can’t do much.”

“But if you all feel unsafe, we can have them hand over all their weapons and stash them away. By having them around, we can get valuable information in order to survive. And if the grounders come, we’ll have the upper hand with them. Are we good?”

The whispers cooled down after Bellamy’s reassurance. After all, he hated the grounders more so than anyone else in camp. If he had agreed to this, then there must have been a good reason. The muttering stopped and most of the camp were nodding their heads in agreement. There were a few who still despised the idea, but none objected.

“Great.” Clarke clapped her hands. “Now let's talk about the ship from last night.”

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Red bathed Mount Caocin. Kova found themselves in the middle of a mountain path, dried trees and leafless bushes lining the edges. They felt fabric rustle at the top of their head. They realized it was an all too familiar hooded cape tied securely across their shoulders. Panicking, they tried pulling at the end of the strings to no avail. They tried pulling the cape over their head but the string tightened underneath their jaw.

They gave up and took note of their surroundings. Other warriors ran up the path, paying no mind to Kova even when they stepped in their way. Yet deep in their gut, they knew these weren’t their warriors. Sloppy foot work, unbecoming of a warrior of Trikru, capes similar to Kova’s covered their entire faces and bodies, denying Kova even a glimpse of who they could be.

But the warriors had the Trikru insignia stitched into their capes. Who else could they belong to?

Thus, Kova followed their fellow warrios up to the edge of the path.

The Azgeda army stood at the foot of the mountain, holding their flag on a pole, a symbol of war, but none of them had any visible weapons. 'Why haven't they followed us up here yet?' Kova found themselves asking.

Strange clicking noises came from behind. They turned around to face their fellow warriors, only to find the wind blowing their capes to reveal the forbidden ancient weapons. Guns.

Shots rang out. Kova flinched and squeezed their eyes shut, bending over to protect themselves. But no pain arrived, and neither did the bone crunching bullets.

The Trikru warriors they had fought along with for years disappeared, and now there was only one person in front of them. The brother they love fell to his knees in front of them, collapsing into a puddle of rainwater and mud, his blood mixing with the elements below him.

Their arm hung in front of them, jaggedly, inhumanly, like a puppet on strings, with the pointer finger pressed against the trigger of the gun in their hand.

///

Eyes snapped open, only to flinch away with the afternoon sun streaking sunlight through the crack of the tent’s entrance. Kova recoiled, back pressing against a mattress, and rubbed their eyes with the back of their hands. Their heart pounded in their chest, body alight with adrenaline, yet they couldn’t recall the nightmare that had woken them up.

Maybe that was for the best.

Instead, they tried to remember how exactly they fell asleep in this unfamiliar, orange tent. From what they could recall, they didn’t necessarily “fall asleep,” rather they passed out from the pain shooting up their leg.

Ah. The recollection of last night brought a dull ache from their injury. The ache also returned a hazy memory of the invaders’ leader visiting in the middle of the night with Octavia to disinfect their wound. Slowly turning to lay on their side, they peered under the thin blanket to find bandages wrapped around their calf.

As well as bare skin. Someone had taken off their leather armor, boots, socks, pants, long sleeve shirt, and jacket, folding them neatly to the side, the mask on top. They had been left with their underclothes — a pair of biker shorts and an off-white tank top. “I’ll have to thank whoever did that later. It’s exhausting to take all of that off, even for me.”

They noticed there were important pieces missing from their collection. "Surprise surprise," Kova grumbled to themselves, sitting up on their elbows. "They took away my weapons. Did they have to take the holsters, though?"

They tossed the blanket off and hooked a foot against the side of the mattress to sit up. Grimacing at the new spark of pain, they swung their healthy leg over the bed, then carefully guided the other one to follow. They took a deep breath, preparing themselves to try to stand until—

"Kova?" The tent shifted as someone poked their head in. "You alright?"

They didn’t need to turn to know who it was. They kept their back towards the entrance. “Mn. You can come in if you’d like, Clarke.”

Last night, Clarke had only been focused on disinfecting their wound while Octavia and Raven undressed them. She hadn’t seen anything other than their leg, not even their face.

Which was why her breath hitched at the sight of their tattoos. She had heard of tattoos before, but the tradition was lost on the Ark. An intricate armband circled around just above their elbow. Above the band, there was a thin line of blank skin before a new tattoo began — the ink became trees of a forest, with mountains and valleys ascending up their biceps, and a sun peaked out between two peaks of a mountain.

It wasn’t just the tattoos that surprised her, either. Circular scars took up the skin of Kova’s shoulder blade, too numerous to count. Kova twisted from their seat in bed, their shirt shifting along with them, revealing even more circular scars, as well as five circular tattoos following down their cheek bone. At the base of their neck, they had another tattoo, the exact same one that Lincoln had on his chest.

Clarke only snapped out of her stare when she accidentally made eye contact. “Sorry. Got lost in my thoughts.” She felt her ears and cheeks heat up. “We brought you here two nights ago — you were knocked out the whole day yesterday.”

“Mn. Makes sense. I feel like I slept for a whole day.” Their voice came out in a low, raspy murmur.

“I need to check up on the cut.” She said, raising a medical kit up.

“Go ahead.”

She went around the bed and knelt in front of them, opening up the med kit. Clarke drew the old bandage off the skin and inspected the wound. She felt eyes following every move she made. “It doesn’t look infected.” She looked up at Kova, whose gaze had solely been focused on her face.

“You look tired.” Kova answered her questioning look. “I’m guessing you’ve told your camp about me?”

The heavy sigh Clarke released made her shoulders slump. She started wrapping a fresh bandage over their calf. “Yeah. Some weren’t happy, but I doubt there’ll be any problems. We had to lie, just so you know. I told them that because you helped us, your people marked you as a traitor and you couldn’t return home.”

A bitter laugh filled the tent. “Not a lie.”

Confused, Clarke looked back up at them.

Unaware of the blue eyes fixed on them, Kova leaned back against their arms, their distant gaze boring into the fabric of the tent. “By now, my clan will have raided my tent, my home, everything. Once they know I’m not there, they’ll ask around if anyone has seen me in the past few days. I’ll be marked as a traitor by the time the sun rises tomorrow.”

Her throat felt tight. She swallowed thickly. “Why did you do it, then?”

“Hmm?”

“If you knew your people would outcast you,” Clarke began packing her med kit. “why did you help us?”

“I hope you’re not expecting my answer to be, ‘because it was the right thing to do.’” One glance towards the sky leader proved Kova’s suspicions right, judging by the way she looked away from them. They shook their head, a breathy laugh tumbling out of their mouth. “No, no, my reasoning is selfish. I already had issues with my clan long before you came down, but once you arrived, our relationship snapped. It was a matter of time, I suppose. I needed to get away from them.”

There were no pros to telling Clarke the full story. After all, she was the invaders’ leader first, Clarke second. If she knew Trikru would be after their head soon, she might try to trade Kova in for a peace treaty or something. At least this way, Clarke might feel guilt over Kova losing their clan and allow them to stay permanently, and Kova can help around camp or whatever. It’s a win-win.

“But,” Kova continued, “I would like to be clear about one thing. I may no longer be loyal to my clan, but that does not mean I will be loyal to you.”

“Then, where does your loyalty lie?”

“My brother. And in conjunction, Octavia.”

“Octavia?”

“Mn. She’s my brother’s interest.”

Silence took over the tent.

“…interest?”

“Long story. Ask Octavia if you want to know. You don’t have to worry, though.”

“About what?”

“About me. Seeing as Octavia is part of your clan, my loyalty is as good as yours, even if it isn’t directly. I will not harm anyone here as long as they do not try to harm me. I can help with whatever you want me to help with.”

“I’ll… keep that in mind. And thank you.”

“For what?”

“You saved my life twice. Thank you.”

“…mn.” ‘I took responsibility.’

With that, Clarke made her way to exit the tent. Just as she placed her hand on the flap of the tent, Wells drew it open. They made eye contact but before he could say anything, she smiled ever so slightly and walked passed him. Ever since the incident with Charlotte, their relationship had gotten a lot better — Clarke apologized for how she treated him and blaming him for her father's death, and he forgave her immediately. But they still hadn't talked much. His eyes followed her until she left his sight, and he couldn’t stop the soft sigh that left his lips.

“You alright?” Came Kova’s voice from the inside of the tent.

Wells snapped out of his thoughts. He peeked into the tent and was greeted by Kova’s hunched back. “I should be asking you that.”

Ah. Truthfully, Kova though it was Clarke who sighed. They hadn’t expected this voice. “Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking.” They responded, elbows on top of their knees, the palm of their hand against their forehead. “What do you want?”

“I have water. You want?”

“…mn. Come in.”

Wells stepped around the bed and held the cup of water out. “I figured you might get thirsty.”

Kova skeptically glanced between him and the metal cup in his hand. They didn’t know if anyone might have tampered with the drink. Bringing the cup up to their mouth, they sniffed around it for a moment before taking a small sip. It tasted simply like water and had no type of fragrance. Once Kova felt like it was in the clear, they chugged the drink down.

“Thank you for saving Clarke.” Wells’ voice was gentle.

As they returned the cup with a thanks, they caught a glimpse of his bandaged right hand. The pointer and middle fingers were missing just below the second knuckle. ‘Hmm. Interesting. What kind of camp is this?’ Instead of asking, Kova sent Wells a kinder look, one people rarely saw. “No problem.”

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Wells left not too long after, giving Kova some privacy to change into their clothes. They could hear the bustling of the camp outside their safe little tent, of people talking and laughing with one another, of branches colliding into a pile together, of thick trunks creaking together to form a wall, of water boiling above a crackling fire.

If Kova closed their eyes and ignored the pain in their leg, ignored the tired ache of their muscles, and pretended like the invaders’ were speaking Trigedasleng—

Mn. It felt like they were back at TonDC’s training camp.

They would even bet that the moment they stepped out of the tent, all eyes would be on them, and the invaders would start talking, just as the Trikruvians did back at camp.

Well. At least they wouldn’t talk about Mount Caocin.

(Jump out of the frying pan, fall into the fire.)

They relished in the feeling for just a moment before taking a deep breath and opening their eyes. There was no point in feeling homesick — Trikru was never their home, it hadn’t been in three years.

(Was it ever?)

They secured their clothes, tied their dreads back and the mask on (better safe than sorry) and stood at the flaps of the tent. Neither Wells nor Clarke mentioned anything about allowing them to leave their tent. Hell, stepping outside would be a whole lot easier if they had been told they were a prisoner. But they were neither prisoner nor guest.

Kova dealt with this before. They handled the side looks of warriors and civilians alike. They had knives shoved in their back by the same warriors they considered friends and kept walking. They handled the glare of the Chief and the interrogation of the General.

They could handle a couple of kids watching them.

Taking a deep breath, they let their hand push through the curtain and ease it open. Rays of sunlight attacked their eyes. They shielded themselves from the light with the other hand and stepped across the threshold.

Only a few delinquents glanced at them, and from that group an even a lesser amount of them outright stared before they went back to work.

…huh. Alright. Kova had been expecting more backlash—

Something crashed into their right thigh. Startled, they looked down only to find a young girl stumbling back, eyes shut, rubbing her forehead. If Kova hadn’t been wearing the mask, the young girl would have seen the worried look they had.

Instead, the young girl looked back up to apologize only to make eye contact with a very tall stranger wearing an absolutely terrifying mask. She gasped, eyes widening in fear as she stepped back and tripped over her tiny feet. She squeezed her eyes tight as her world went sideways, thinking ‘oh no, Fox just washed my clothes yesterday!’ and prepared for the crash—

One warm hand delicately wrapped around her wrist while another pressed against her back, helping the young girl steady herself. The moment the stranger’s hands retreated, she hid her face behind her hands, both in embarrassment and fear. But then she heard a soft laugh, not of mockery, but of fondness, affection, warmth, and she couldn’t help but peek through her fingers, watching as the now crouched stranger tipped the mask over their head, away from her view.

“You alright?” The stranger tilted their head questioningly before reaching up and picking a few leaves caught up in the young girl’s curly locks. “Make sure to watch where you’re going. You bumped your head quite hard.” They smoothed the back of their finger across her forehead.

“I’m okay, it didn’t hurt me that much. Sorry.” She mumbled, looking down at her worn shoes.

“Apology accepted. I’m sorry, too.”

“For what?”

“I scared you.” They reached back and untied the mask, letting it drop into their hand, making sure to keep the face away from her. “If I had known there were children here, I wouldn’t have worn it.”

“I’m not a child!”

“Is that so? How old are you then?”

“I’m seven.”

“Oh, I see, you grown grown. My apologies for calling you a child.” Kova looked down at their mask before offering it to the girl. “It’s pretty scary, right?”

Hesitantly, the young girl nodded, a small smile forming. “I’ve- I’ve never seen a mask like that before.”

“Mn. It’s my brothers. Do you want to see it? It’s less scary when there’s no one behind it.”

“Sure—!”

“Emmie!”

The young girl (’Emmie?’) snatched her hands back, startled, and whipped around.

Now that their little bubble had been popped, Kova realized the entire camp had been watching their every move like a hawk, as if they would hurt the child. Their set their jaw a little tighter than usual.

A pair of legs appeared at the corner of their eye, Emmie unwillingly behind them. Kova raised their gaze. The pair of legs belonged to a man, a familiar one at that. Ah. He had been there at the bridge, as back up—

Their eyes landed on a bandage plastered against his cheek. They were hit with an influx of memories and realized a lot more happened yesterday. Kova stood from their crouched position, face suddenly very serious.

Emmie didn’t like it. But before she could say anything, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist and pull her away. She looked up and found the hand belonged to Fox. Just before Fox pulled her around the corner, Emmie yelled, “Pretty stranger, see you later!”

Kova didn’t have low self esteem, but while they didn’t see themselves as ugly, they wouldn’t have used the term ‘pretty,’ either. They were caught off guard for just a moment, but before Emmie was dragged around the corner, they managed to respond with, “Mn, see you.”

They turned their attention back to the man. Their eyes unconsciously landed on the bandage once more before darting away in guilt. “My apologies for yesterday. I—”

“Whatever.” The man cut them off, leaving them in shock. He continued, “Clarke wants a word with you. Go to the dropship. I heard you already know where it is, right Kova?”

Still in shock at being cut off and his foul tone, his implication went over their head. Their jaw tensed, forehead creasing. “I was trying to apologize.”

“Don’t care. Go to the dropship.”

Kova opened their mouth, but before they could get a word out, the man turned away, heading to the location in question. They had to take a deep breath, silently begging the Gods to provide them with all the patience possible. Just before they could take a single step, Bellamy spoke over his shoulder. “And from now on, keep the mask on and stay away from the kids.”

The mask, they can understand, but something malicious settled in their stomach at the last half of his sentence. Their hands clenched at their sides. “I would rather die than hurt a child.”

Bellamy stopped in his tracks. “Good thing you won’t have to do either, since you’ll be staying away from the children.”

He kept walking.

Instead of arguing, they followed his footsteps, tying the mask back on. They were more angry at the implication of what they would do to the children rather than the order itself. But then again, they would never let Lykrian, Artigas, or any of the other TonDC children near an invader.

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Once the two arrived, Kova couldn’t help but take note of the dropship’s design. After all, the last time they had been here, they were too busy with saving their brother to notice the harsh lighting, the seats along the walls, most taken out of place and leaving behind an imprint. Boxes were now stacked neatly in one of the corners, rather than haphazardly like they had been last time. Kova followed Bellamy to the back and found Clarke sitting at a table with six empty seats and a cup of what seemed to be tea.

While Kova stood by the entrance and bowed their head, waiting to be invited, Bellamy simply sauntered in and plopped himself in the chair across Clarke’s.

“Come in, sit.” Clarke patted the chair next to her.

“Mn.” Hesitantly, they pulled out the chair between her and Bellamy. She nodded, and they sat down, back rigid. “I was told you wanted to see me.”

“I wanted to go over what happened at the meeting before the grounders attacked.”

Before Clarke could say anything further, Kova interrupted. “I believe you have it the wrong way — Trikru did not attack first.”

“Jasper said they were ready to shoot Clarke down.” Bellamy said, crossing his arms, sending him his best glare. “We were protecting ourselves.”

“Did you not have your sights set on the Lieutenant?” Kova questioned without sparing a glance towards him, preferring to stare straight at the wall. “Just as your back up had their finger on the trigger, Trikru, too, notched their arrows in preparation. That does not mean they would have attacked without prompt. I told you on the bridge that guns weren’t allowed,” they directed their words to Clarke, “the causalities on Trikru’s side far outweigh what you have here.”

Standing from his chair, Bellamy scoffed and walked away from the table to pace around the tent. Kova wondered if he did that a lot. By the way Clarke sent him a worried glance every minute or two, it seemed so.

“Speaking of unprovoked,” Clarke continued. “Anya said something along the lines that we had attacked Trikru unprovoked too many times to be considered unintentional. Do you know what she was talking about?”

“…A few come to mind.”

“A few?” Bellamy let out a bitter laugh. “A few? What kind of bullshit — we’ve been here for less than two weeks, what could we have possibly done to them—?”

“Shall we start from the beginning?” Kova’s sharp tone interrupted him with a chill he hadn’t felt by anyone before. With every point, they counted off a finger. “Crossing the forbidden river, almost alerting the Mountain’s fog, risking the lives of many hunters and living animals, and then—”

“When was that?”

“When you first landed. I believe you had sent out a scavenger team. You were there too, now that I recall.”

It took the two invaders to realize what they talked about.

“What, Jasper? When he swung over the river?”

“Mn. Across the river is a no access zone. We’re not sure why, but that area around Mount Weather triggers an acid fog from the forest and passes a good kilometer or two past the river. The day Jasper crossed was when the hunters and gatherers were out.”

Bellamy seemed to have pieced whatever pieces he had together, and his face contorted in anger. "Then were you the one who speared him?!”

Immediately, Kova shook their head. “I heard of the incident, but it was not me.”

Noting Bellamy’s face, Clarke diverted the subject. “What else did we do?”

“After you landed, you destroyed large portions of the forest, burned down the Srathme Springs and the village with it—”

“Anya mentioned that. I already explained that was an accident. We had to send fireworks up to save our people still stuck on the Ark.” There were not many ways of excusing yourself from a mass murder, intentional or not, and this was not one of them. It sounded more of an excuse than a reason. “Our people in space — on the Ark — were running out of oxygen. 300 people volunteered to sacrifice themselves so the others can have more time. We had a radio to contact them so they didn’t have to lower the population, but it, uh…” She sent another look near Bellamy's direction, one he didn't notice. “It didn’t work.”

Truthfully, Kova hadn’t been paying attention to her excuse, but the way her tone faltered and how Bellamy tensed caught their attention. “Oh? And why do you keep looking at him for?”

Bellamy snapped his head towards the two. Clarke looked away guiltily. Kova kept their face as neutral as possible as if they hadn't exposed the invaders' leader. "What, did you mess with the radio or something?”

Clarke stiffened. Bellamy looked away. Neither responded.

“Hmm. Interesting. Well. Either way, your radio would have been useless.”

That caught the invaders' attention. “Why?” Clarke asked.

Kova looked down, picking the dirt from under their nail casually. “I'm not sure what the exact science is behind it, but radios don’t work around these parts, specifically Trikru, Azgeda, and Sangedakru, but I think parts of Podakru, Ouskejonkru, and Boudalankru that are closer to us also have the same issue. Something about the lingering radiation.

“Regardless, people died at the Srathme Springs. The remaining villagers were relocated.” Kova continued. “The Springs had also been heavily damaged, which means no mining or mineral collection. With one move, you managed to kill both Trikru’s people and its economy, especially in its sword making and arts. Congrats.”

Bellamy placed both hands on the back of his head, restraining a groan.

Clarke swallowed thickly. “Anya also said something else. Something about the library?”

Kova stilled completely. They turned their head towards Clarke, blinking a few times with wide eyes. “What?”

“What?”

“What happened to the library?” Their fingers tensed against the wood of the table.

“She didn’t say it completely burned down, but it had been heavily damaged from the fire. Why?”

Kova leaned over the table, dropping their head into their hands. “I didn’t hear about that. Fuck.”

“Watch your fucking language.” Bellamy snapped.

Clarke ignored him, inching closer towards the grounder. “Why, is it important?”

They couldn’t bare to look at dead people walking. They let out a heavy sigh. “How badly did you need the peace treaty?”

Well. If that wasn't ominous, Clarke didn't know what was. “Pretty badly, we didn’t know there were people alive here. If we did, we would have been more careful.”

“Too late for that.” Kova muttered.

“Will you just tell us what’s going on?” Bellamy snapped again, fists clenching.

“The damaging of a major library, like the one at Srathme’s village, is considered as one of, if not the most heinous way of declaring war.” Kova shook their head, scrubbing their face with their hands. “I should have known. No wonder the Lieutenant and the General had been planning for war since. I though they were just preparing for the worst case scenario.”

“War? Over a library? Why is it so important?” Clarke asked.

“When the Foresakening happened, naturally most books perished from both radiation and age. The previous commander, Rha, tried to destroy the little remaining knowledge we had left under the guise of ‘moving on from our past.’ We all knew he wanted to paint his version of history instead of what really happened, and the elders wouldn’t have it. After his downfall, all books were ordered to be preserved and copied, but minor libraries simply carry the copies of the preserved books. Major libraries hold both the copies and the original texts. They are also the epicenters of the copiers.” Kova pulled away from their hands, leaning back in their chair. “Meaning, you messed up real bad.”

“What should we do?” Clarke asked.

“Fuck if I know.” Kova threw their hands in the air in frustration. “You won’t get whatever treaty you want — hell, I’m shocked they didn’t shoot you on site back at the bridge.”

“Clarke!”

The group turned in their seats. One of the invaders had interrupted, calling for the leader from outside the dropship. “Myles keeps vomiting, can you check in on him?”

“Yes, I’ll be out in a minute!” She called back. She stood, but just before she left, she tapped Bellamy’s shoulder. “You two talk. I’ll be back in a second.”

While the two nodded, the moment Clarke left, they fell into silence. Bellamy had sat back down, but refused to even acknowledge their presence.

“Name.”

Bellamy faced them with a confused look. “What?”

“You never told me your name.”

“…Bellamy. Octavia’s brother.”

“…mn.”

“…”

They fell back in silence.

Bellamy grew frustrated. “Well?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”

“You know my name already. You said it before.”

They weren’t wrong, but wasn’t it polite to introduce yourself? Ooh, Bellamy almost cursed them out on the spot.

Suddenly, Kova started talking again. “Our current commander, Lexa. Her campaign was almost solely based on restoring the libraries. If she knows what happened, she won’t let you get off free.”

“We have guns, I’d like to see her try.” His tone full of arrogance, he couldn’t help but lean back comfortable in his chair.

“Do you think this is a joke?” Their words were almost as sharp as their glare. “Are you willing to kill more people than you already have?”

Bellamy stood up, knocking his chair back. Kova followed his actions, hands tensing by their sides.

“Hey.” His tone deepened in warning. He stepped closer to the grounder, although he couldn’t help but hesitate when they didn’t move back like he expected. “Watch your mouth.”

“You know, I don’t think I will.” That hesitation was all it took for Kova to take up the rest of the space between them, pressing the tip of their finger against his chest to push him back lightly. It was only when he forcibly took a small step back did Kova realize that they were a good few centimeters taller than him. Good. They could practically tower over him with the way they were acting. "At the bridge, you and your friends had the same job as those scouts did. Trikru’s scouts didn’t shoot first. But why are you and yours so adamant on villainizing my people?” They leaned in, anger flashing in their eyes. “They aren’t the ones who killed over — What did Clarke say before? 300 people?”

A hand wrapped around their wrist, and Kova found themselves being back into a table, the edge pressing against the back of their thighs. Their nostrils flared in anger, but before they could growl out a warning they suddenly found themselves far too close to his face, their breaths mingling with his. But that wasn't what shocked them.

No, what shocked them was his pale freckled face, one of malnutrition and stress than the lack of sun, his dark, hooded eyes, prominent bags and lines underneath that screamed exhaustion.

It was Kova's own face looking back at them.

One of grief, of remorse and regret.

Unconsciously, they backed up, nudging the table askew.

“I already know what I’ve done. I have to live with it now, and I don’t need someone like you to remind me.” As much as Bellamy tried to seem threatening, he felt on the edge of falling apart.

Kova rarely stuttered, and while this wasn't a stutter, the hesitation behind their words made them uncomfortable. “You…feel guilt?”

His hand subtly relaxed around their wrist, loose fingers curling around their pulse point. Bellamy opened his mouth, but before he could answer, the sounds of footsteps entered the main area of the dropship. Bellamy stepped back and sniffed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, and turned away.

The curtain's cutting off the main area to the small corner shifted. Kova attempted to lean casually against the table, crossing their arms. The area where his hand had been felt hot to the touch.

Clarke appeared. “Everything okay? I was worried you two would bite each others heads off.” She joked before returning to her place next to the table. While she continued to talk about the meeting, Kova was still reeling over what just happened. They absentmindedly rubbed their wrist a few times before snapping out of their stupor and joining the conversation.

When Kova glanced at Bellamy, he turned away.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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#bellamy x oc #bellamy blake #bellamy x reader #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake imagines #bellamy blake x oc #bellamy blake x reader #the 100 #the 100 imagines #the night our stars aligned (and our breaths touched)#my writing #writeblr #wip fanfic

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shockbagel6-blog · 4 years ago

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Boost car driving

A large amount of men and women choose to alter their automobile to ensure it is more successful. This site teaches you 3 alteration manners which will assist you alter your car or truck. The measures consist of replacement the suspension to get driving as well to maximizing the air exhaust and intake. You're able to think about installing a gasoline injection device, or boosting the engine. But remember that by changing your auto, you want to customize it in accordance with your requirements along with your own preferences. Make your decisions accepting your own interests your personality, and also the type of automobile. Strategy two: Boost car driving Change out your shock absorbers. Install things. Springs and the shock absorbers are made to guarantee comfort. Thus, if it rolls on a bulge, due to the suspension, then the wheels go up and down to decrease the oscillation with this automobile. You will reduce your relaxation whilst driving, by replacing those components together with different folks, overused, however also the stiffness can encourage touch of the wheels together using a floor, which also ends, and will cause stronger traction throughout acceleration, braking. Adaptive shock absorbers provide you the choice of falling upon your automobile and stiffening the suspension predicated upon your own taste and how you drive. Most suspensions additionally lessen the auto and its own center of gravity, also that enhances driving. 2. Install stabilizer bars. These pubs connect the 2 sides of their vehicle to back and front to boost their body's rigidity. By substituting your car's pubs with bars employing a diameter that is bigger, you increase your vehicle's rigidity. This rigidity will reinforce these tires' touch and boost your effort. It's better to consider them the front and rear of the automobile have precisely the same resistance When purchasing solder bars. You will ensure the stability of this automobile throughout endings or fast begins. Stabilization bars may be referred to as anti-roll bars or even stabilizer bars. Usually they truly are created out of high strength steel tubes, also in this case they truly are preferable to seem bars, which may be exceedingly heavy. 3. The rubber bushings with polyurethane bushings. Your automobile suspension contains some rubber pads which different the metal components which can be. These pads maintain up a supply of the burden of your vehicle and reduce vibration. Rubber will shed its features. Polyurethane linings are more demanding than the prior ones, and their life is much no more. Yet they're going to delve longer if they aren't properly greased through fabrication. You're ready to restore them by one. The operation can be performed at one go should you obtain an entire kit. To eliminate Many jacks may use a press. 4. Put at car modification . This bar is mounted involving of this shock absorber and your head of the shock absorber. It connects the spacer onto the driver's side also results in improving street strengthening and handling the rigidity of their automobile, specially by feverish. The stabilization bars that are elastic are perfectly matched by this pub. Additionally, it reduces torsion and the tip of the automobile. You may not have access into the back-shock absorbers to put in this kind of pub. Likely, you'll have to pay off it to operate in your engine after. 5. Boost your system. This technique is very essential whilst driving a motor vehicle. Wonderful quality wheels let you attend before slowing to show, which usually means you'll travel at elevated pace. There are many approaches. It is possible, for example, buy fixtures, or replacement to your device with a robust and more efficient one. This elastic gasket effectively enriches the brake. They truly are okay for city driving, and along with also their dimensions correspond to all of the brake system of the car in question's elements. Compound seals may be utilized for various functions. Consult with your parts provider that choices are appropriate for your vehicle . It's likely to get fittings to replace the brake calipers and disks with bigger components, to boost the friction surface and lower the braking space. You'll have to ensure your brakes are broad enough to permit adjustment of one's wheels. Advice Expecting this website can give some helpful guidance to improve your automobile. Assessing analyzing in detail books or even a web site specialized in your car's design. This will give a clearer idea to you.

#car #car modofication #grille #Ford #Jeep

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someonestole15 · 5 years ago

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Like riding a bicycle

Down below, the water moves across the ship’s hull, I can picture myself drowning in it.

No, focus on the task, else the future is what you see beneath you. Can’t swim, only fall to the bottom under the darkness. Thoughts heavy in my head, I gripped the rifle tighter as I dropped down from the runway to a catwalk running along the side of it, the metal creaked and bent as my boots made contact with it. Catch yourself before you fall, I wrapped my hand around the railing and stabilized my footing as the waves below made the water seem almost black.

Breathe in, fresh air, how long has it been since you’ve been able to breathe without fearing a bullet? Too long, I’d say. Eyes back up, head cleared, I checked my chamber and made my way down the catwalk.

Binoculars built in to the visor, I scanned the shore for a moment before the source of the jamming. Corporation issue outpost carved into the forest around 500 meters away from the ship, too far for me to reach from where I was and swimming was out of the question. Faint comms signal between the three of us that allowed for communications, I got information on how Nine and Valkyrie were doing.

The gun was almost up and running, Nine’s systems managed to pass the software by connecting directly to the circuits; Valkyrie was keeping watch and keeping some of the dropships at bay by aiming for the cockpits. A hatch below me, the words danger and don’t step labelled on it in large white letters, I wrapped my rope around the railing and lowered myself down. Not much to grab hold of, I kept my cable connected as I moved closer to the hatch, running almost vertical along the slanted armor.

Close enough, I jammed my blades into the slit running down the middle of the hatch and pulled back. Metal creaking and bending, both my blades and the hatch, it gave away and slid open. A tunnel running further into the ship, large enough to walk through, lined with magnets that were seemingly off.

Cable disconnected from the railing, I avoided stepping on any magnets as I walked through the tunnel. Light at end of it, I dropped down into what looked like a garage, a lift that looked as if it was designed to line something up with the magnet tunnel. Several shapes hiding in the darkness, covered in cloth under the dim lighting, I ripped one of the covers off.

Vehicle similar to the bike I had once driven on Earth, sleek body and winglets near the front and back, thruster out the back. No wheels, four smaller engines had taken their place. Tips of missiles exposed from the front fairing, I placed my hand on the fuel cell. The bike roared to life, rising a few centimeters off the floor and hovering there.

“User: UNKNOWN.” an AI voice reached my comms,

“Add new user.”

“Designation found within database, adding profile… Done. Please make sure you are correctly equipped to use the vehicle. Closest kit added to HUD.”

A cabinet behind the bike glowed blue on my HUD, inside I found a helmet and a chest rig fitting over my vest, a tube of oxygen running from it to the helmet. Hell, if this thing is anything like the one I had on Earth, it’s time to see if I can still ride one.

Hood down, helmet on my head, systems green, I climbed on the bike and ran through the preflight checklist it gave me. No control yet, the AI guided the bike over to the lift and secured it.

“User, ready?”

“Ready.”

“Brace for acceleration.”

A brace against my back, my body magnetized to the bike, the magnets in the tunnel lit up as the force pulled the bike forward with rapid speeds.

“User, remember to breathe.”

Catch your breath, feel the wind push against you as you fly like the phoenix you are, burn them down.

“Autopilot released, User has full control.”

Slight stumbling before I got the hang of the controls, the handlebar worked like the stick on aircraft, push forward for down, pull back to go up, and the magnetic saddle kept me from falling off. HUD filled with lines and grids; I kept low on the approach to the shore, leaning down as to ease off the wind.

Signals out, I floored the gas and pulled up over the trees as I focused on the signal trace within the forest. A dropship lined up behind me, I could almost see the pilots smug face through the glass as he opened fire with the machineguns mounted below his cockpit.

Key to mobility is being agile and ready for almost anything, I hadn’t simply forgotten the enemies flying around, I had thought ahead. Pull back, deactivate the engine and feel gravity take over as I line up the front of the bike with the dropship. Pull the trigger, a barrage of missiles left the bikes launcher, clouding any point-defense the ship might have. My sky, the ship started falling out of the skies as I reactivated the booster and got my wings back.

A few more ships attempted to face me; a few bullets made it quite close, the booster took a few hits before a trail of grey some trailed me across the sky. Keep it together now, the distance was getting shorter as the dips down got more frequent. Gain altitude, the jammer started to form in view, as the engine struggled to keep me up. One last boost, wings deployed to carry the high-tech piece of engineering through the sky even without the engine. Four brackets forming around the towers radar dish, from green to red, I pulled the trigger as the one final burst of missiles left the bike, dancing across the air like an ice-skater carrying several sticks of dynamite.

A few flashes of blue as the energy shielding around the tower kept some of missiles from reaching past it, the rest however had unrestricted access to the upper half of the jammer.

Cloud of dust rising from the fallen tower, my comms were filled with signals crossing the area, both Empire and Corporation. No time to listen in, the engine below I spooled down as the AI warned of heavy damage.

“User, EJECT, EJECT.”

Red handle between my legs, I pulled it. Magnets disabled, the bike fell faster than I, the AI pulled a chute mounted within the kit and so my descent was quite calm, other than the bike self-destructing once it landed.

Landing zone not clear, I crashed through several trees as the parachute got snatched up with the branches.

Calm things down a bit, my audio zoned out the gunfire and explosions further out. It’s almost peaceful at times like this, dangling here like a puppet from my strings.

Focus, the battle still rages around. Cut of the strings, I landed in the moss below and removed the helmet, Valkyrie’s voice over the comms.

“Guessing that was you? Good timing.”

“How so?”

“Empire is evacuating the ship, they have it locked in and the damage is beyond repair. Get to an opening and light up a flare, we’ll find you.”

“Understood.”

Remove the kit, pull the hood back over my head and get a flare out to my vest. Anti-air fire cleared the skies around, the Empire fighters keeping the dropships still attempting to approach at bay. Mask over my face, I jogged through the bushes and moss, finally reaching an opening in the trees, large enough to fit a helicopter.

Flare ignited, an Empire fighter flew overhead before a quadrotor helicopter arrived to the scene.

“We got you on scope, Specter, dropping a ladder.”

A ladder from the rear ramp, I grabbed hold as the helicopter started moving again.

“Hold on, the AO is very hot.”

Out of the frying pan, the wind still whistled in my ears as the ramp closed up. Breathe in, I sat down on one of the seats and passed out for a moment. Not sure how long I was out before the first wake up, but Nine and Valkyrie had joined me on the row of seats, Nine laying down on my right and Valkyrie with her head in my lap lying to the right. Both fast asleep, I connected the charger cable to my neck and fell asleep again.

Rest easy and count your losses, you could have not seen this coming. Where will you wake up?

#stories #logs of an android #scifi #sci fi & fantasy #science fiction #fiction #writing #story #cyberpunk #cyber #fantasy

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jiad-parts-store · 11 months ago

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Fitment: Perfectly fit for 1980-1998 Ford F-250 F-350 2WD and 4WD XL, XLT, XLS, XLT Lariat, Ranger, Ranger Lariat, Ranger XLT, Base, Eddie Bauer, Lightning, Custom, Special. Each part is manufactured to OEM specifications and precision-engineered to be a direct replacement for factory mounts.

Package Details:

6 × Upper Body Mounts

6 × Lower Body Mounts

6 × Metal Sleeves

2 × Clipped Washers

26 × Washers

6 × Bolts

6 × Lock Nuts

#Polyurethane Body Mount Bushing Set Kit

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orange1896 · 2 years ago

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LIUGONG WHEEL LOADER SPARE PARTS 122

35B0661 INSTRUMENT 37B2979 SENSOR 56A5811 BLOCK 48C6276 HOUSING 08D2354 FLANGE 24C3626 LINKAGE 24C3624 BOOM 24C3625 BUCKET LEVER 18C0440 HOSE AS SP187354 COVER SP187355 PLUG SP187356 RING NUT SP187357 LOCKING PLATE SP187358 SHAFT RETAINER SP187359 DIFFERENTIAL CARRIER SP187360 COVER SP187361 SHIM KIT SP187362 BEVEL GEAR SET SP187363 WHEEL STUD SP187364 HALF SHAFT SP187365 CENTERING RING SP187366 PLANET GEAR CARRIER SP187367 WHEEL HUB SP187368 RING GEAR SP187370 AXLE CASE SP187371 PINION SP187372 PISTON SP187373 ADJUSTING BOLT SP187375 BACK - UP RING SP187376 RING SP187377 O - RING SP187378 O - RING SP187379 DISC SP187381 FRICTION WASHER SP187382 BEARING SP187383 STUD SP187384 PLUG SP187385 VENT SP187387 DIFFERENTIAL SHAFT SP187388 COVER PLATE SP187389 NUT SP187390 SPACER SP187393 BLEEDING BOLT SP187394 PLUG SP187395 PLUG SP187396 MAGNETIC PLUG 00A8909 CONNECTOR 71A2340 ELEMENT BASE 38Y0626X0 BUCKET AS 12C7813 CHECK VALVE 67C3905 HOSE AS 70C3455 CAB HARNESS 70C3473 HARNESS 16D3045 PUSH ROD 75A1762 TORSION SPRING 75A1763 TORSION SPRING 16D3046 PUSH ROD 18D9776 BRACKET 70C3448 HARNESS 70C3441 HARNESS 34C8821 BUSHING 34C8825 BUSHING 18D9775 BRACKET 60C2489X0 RADIATOR MOUNTING 34C8827 BUSHING 34C8826 BUSHING 34C8822 BUSHING 34C8823 BUSHING 34C8824 BUSHING 34C8828 BUSHING 86A3329D0 PROTECTIVE COVER 41D1887D0 STEP 42D2297D0 SHIELD-LH 32A4845 HOSE 18D9664 BRACKET 92A7595 PLATE 18D9757 COMPRESSOR BRACKET 48D1815 BRACKET 33D1545 LOWER HINGE PLATE 33D1544 UPPER HINGE PLATE SP195470 PREFILTER SP195487 FUEL DRAIN TUBE SP195488 PLAIN WASHER SP195490 OIL COOLER CORE GASKET SP195491 OIL FILLER CONNECTION SP195492 ADAPTER CONNECTOR SP195493 OVERHAUL KONG GAI 43C3412X8 FORK SP186483 SEAL KIT SP186487 CYLINDER HEAD SP186488 PISTON SP186489 PISTON ROD SP186490 CYLINDER 48C5902X0 TOP COVER 48C5861X0 ENGINE HOOD 04C1552 HOSE AS 02C3216 TUBE AS 04C1553 HOSE AS 30D4051X0 FRONT FRAME 30D4051X9 FRONT FRAME 24C3544 LINKAGE 24C3542 BOOM 24C3543 LEVER 34D0397X0 BEAM FRAME 24C3530 BOOM AS 08D2427 TUBE AS 08D2428 TUBE AS 08D2433 TUBE AS 40D1646X0 REAR FENDER-RH 40D1645X0 REAR FENDER-LH 97A1469 PLATE 07A7927 SUPPORT 25D0847 FORK BODY 43C8327 BRACKET AS 08D2436 TUBE AS 67C3840 HOSE AS 49C8150 HOSE 18C0321 HOSE AS 67C3843 HOSE AS 67C3842 HOSE AS 08D2351 TUBE AS 08D2336 TUBE AS 67C3886 HOSE AS 08D2437 TUBE AS 79A4989 DECAL 08D1968 TUBE AS 58A6235 PLATE 67C2837 HOSE AS 67C2840 HOSE AS 20C3496 WATER RADIATOR 20C3497 OIL COOLER 20C3498 TRANSMISSION OIL COOLER 20C3495 RADIATOR GP 18D9465 PLATE 49C8064 HOSE 49C8068 HOSE 49C8069 HOSE GP 49C8070 HOSE GP 48C6275 HOUSING 70C3392 CAB HARNESS 21D1477T2 BOOM 30D4280 REAR FRAME SP194504 SECONDARY FUEL FILTER ELEMENT 30D3990 REAR FRAME 67C2980 FUEL HOSE 18C0030 HOSE AS 42C2082 GEARBOX &TORQUE CONVERTER AS 18C0052 HOSE AS 18C0335 HOSE AS 07C3951 HOSE AS 07C3977 HOSE AS 18C0003 HOSE AS 18C0002 HOSE AS 08D2353 TUBE AS 41C3241 MIDDLE DRIVE SHAFT 51C0853 DRIVE SHAFT 38Y0658X0 BUCKET AS 39Y0189X0 GRAPPLE 42D3341 MAST 11D2067 PIN 70C3422 HARNESS 77A2721 BOLT 30B1422 LIQUID LEVEL SWITCH 18D7320 BRAKE CYLINDER BRACKET 70A1444 BRAKE HOUSING 70C2618 CAB HARNESS 30C3653 FITTING 70C2439 CAB HARNESS 70C3389 HARNESS 98A5710 PLATE 24C2738X0 BOOM 82A4507 RUBBER PLATE 67C2633 HOSE AS 23D5744 MOUNTING PLATE 85A7029 DOME DECORATION AS 11C2965 STEERING PUMP 18A8599 BLADE GP 18A8598 CUTTING EDGE SP184229 THERMOSTAT GASKET SP188568 SEAL KIT SP188569 SAFETY VALVE SP188570 FLANGE SP188571 FLANGE YOKE SP188572 FLANGE YOKE 47C4362 HOUSING 86A4118 HOUSING 86A4120 HOUSING 76A1262 SNAP RING 98A6571 BRACKET 98A6572 BRACKET 27C1362X0 TOOL KIT 86A4117 HOUSING 84A5215 RUBBER SLEEVE 86A4119 HOUSING SP189879 TEMP SENSOR ASSY 18D8105 BRACKET 18D8104 BRACKET 79A3218 DECAL SP111999 IDLER 49C8138 EVAPORATOR 70C3317 HARNESS SP193222 MANIFOLD EXHAUST SP193223 AFTERCOOLER SP193224 MAGNETIC SWITCH SP193225 TUBE AIR INTAKE SP193226 BRACKET MAGNETIC SWITCH 49C8073 HOSE 12C7853 DIRECTIONAL VALVE 46D3748 MOUNTING PLATE 34B1993 SWITCH 34B1992 SWITCH 70C3374 CAB HARNESS 05C9803 HOSE AS 48A9551 PLATE 05C9804 HOSE AS 11D2042 PIN SP187720 THREADED PLUG SP187722 THREADED PLUG SP187724 HEXAGON FLANGE HEAD CAP SCREW SP187727 HEXAGON FLANGE HEAD CAP SCREW SP187728 HEXAGON FLANGE HEAD CAP SCREW SP187729 HEXAGON FLANGE HEAD CAP SCREW SP187730 HEXAGON FLANGE HEAD CAP SCREW SP187731 THREADED PLUG SP187733 BANJO CONNECTOR SCREW SP187734 WIRE TIE CLAMP SP187735 O-RING SEAL 67C2830 HOSE AS SP187570 SEAL KIT SP187571 SAFETY VALVE SP187576 TURBOCHARGER SP187577 COVER PLATE SP187578 O-RING SEAL SP187584 WATER OUTLET CONNECTION SP187585 THERMOSTAT HOUSING SP187586 EXPANSION PLUG 08D1598 TUBE AS 08D1600 TUBE AS 07C9756 HOSE AS 24C3455 BOOM AS 08D1599 TUBE AS 86A2715D0 PROTECTIVE COVER 67C1994 HOSE AS 07C2457 HOSE AS 38Y0058X0 BUCKET 49C8477X0 FUSE AS 07A8468 PLATE SP187588 O-RING SEAL SP187589 TURBOCHARGER GASKET SP187591 IDLER SHAFT SP187592 IDLER SHAFT SP187593 WIRING HARNESS SP187594 SPRING HOSE CLAMP SP187596 CAMSHAFT THRUST SUPPORT SP187598 DIAMOND RING SEAL SP187600 WATER BYPASS TUBE SP187601 O-RING SEAL SP187602 O-RING SEAL SP187603 O-RING SEAL SP187604 VALVE INSERT SP187605 INTAKE VALVE SP187606 HEAT SHIELD SP187608 ALTERNATOR SUPPORT SP187609 FAN HUB SP187611 FUEL DRAIN TUBE SP187685 ENGINE LIFTING BRACKET SP187686 SIX POINT CAP SCREW SP187689 LUBRICATING OIL TRANSFER TUBE SP187690 CAMSHAFT COVER SEAL SP187691 CAMSHAFT COVER SP187692 ENGINE LIFTING BRACKET SP187695 LUBRICATING OIL PUMP GASKET SP187698 GEAR RETAINER SP187702 CONNECTION GASKET SP187703 CONNECTING ROD CAP SCREW SP187707 SEAL OIL SP187713 ELECTRONIC CONTROL MODULE WIRING HARNESS SP187715 WIRE TIE CLAMP SP187717 MALE UNION SP193989 PREVAILING TORQUE TYPE HEXAGON NUT WITH 95A3533 LUG 30D4033 FRONT FRAME 22D2047 BUCKET 97A1207 CUTTING EDGE 96A6619 EDGE-LH 96A6620 EDGE-RH 37B3162 CONTROLLER 07A8215 MOUNTING PLATE 79A5307 DECAL 38Y0603X0 HAY FORK SP187719 LUBRICATING OIL FILTER HEAD SP187618 CAMSHAFT SP187620 FEMALE CONNECTOR SP187621 FEMALE CONNECTOR SP187624 ADAPTER CONNECTION SP187626 THREADED PLUG SP187628 THREADED SPACER SP187629 PISTON COOLING NOZZLE SP187630 EXPANSION PLUG SP187631 VALVE INSERT SP187633 O-RING SEAL SP187635 WIRE TIE CLAMP SP187636 HEXAGON FLANGE HEAD CAP SCREW SP187639 ELECTRICAL CONNECTION SP187640 THERMOSTAT SP187642 LUBRICATING OIL COOLER COVER GASKET SP187643 MOUNTING SPACER SP187644 CRANKSHAFT PULLEY SP187645 HEXAGON FLANGE HEAD CAP SCREW SP187646 CRANKSHAFT ADAPTER SP187648 IDLER GEAR SP187651 PRESSURE SENSING TUBE SP187653 BELT TENSIONER SUPPORT 27C1391X0 COUNTERWEIGHT SP190627 CYLINDER HEAD SP190628 FLYWHEEL SHELL SP190633 SUCTION TUBE 18D8907 BRACKET 18C0426 HOSE AS 08D2489 TUBE AS 67C3994 HOSE AS 48D1742 COVER 55A9777 BUSHING 24C3623 LINKAGE 24C3622 LEVER 67C3971 HOSE AS 70C3427 HARNESS 69A0890 PLATE 49C8075 HOSE GP 67C3595 HOSE AS 12C8143 RELIEF VALVE 70C2588 CAB HARNESS 01Y0354X8 FRONT AXLE AS 01Y0457X8 REAR AXLE AS SP189501 FUEL FILTER ELEMENT SP189502 FLYWHEEL 39Y0184X0 WORK IMPLEMENT LINES AS 30D4310 FRONT FRAME 67C3782 HOSE AS SP192208 STOP SLEEVE SP192210 DRIVE SHAFT SP192214 SPRING SP192215 SEAL KIT 38Y0185X0 BUCKET 24C3505 LEVER 24C3504 LEVER 11D2062 PIN 11D2059 PIN 95A3811 PLATE 96A6933 PLATE 96A6941 PLATE 55A9700 BUSHING 18C0395 HOSE AS 67C3900 HOSE AS 59A1776 PLATE 55A9704 BUSHING 55A9648 BUSHING 55A9671 BUSHING 38Y0642X0 BUCKET AS 70C3458 HARNESS 70C3486 HARNESS 01Y0654 REAR AXLE Read the full article

#LIUGONG

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s3mag · 5 years ago

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SEMA is a hard show at which to properly appreciate cars. On one hand – it’s a show overflowing with some of the best builds you will see all year. On the other hand – it’s that same overflow that makes it almost impossible to keep your wits about you. It’s almost too much of a good thing. In a sea of thousands of cars, I feel like some inevitably get lost. The great thing is: The cars that are truly memorable, the cars you are talking about weeks and months after the show… are cars which rise above the temporary flash-in-the-pan Instagram fame. Some cars deserve to be immortalized. More than digital noise or passing fancy, they draw their inspiration from the timeless. The classic.

This 240Z certainly qualifies as one of these cars. While it has some innovations and forward thinking design elements, it also honors the tradition and legacy of Datsun’s Z car heritage. Car owner Dennis wanted a Z that could be as menacing on the street as it was on the track. In looking to manifest his dreams into reality, he was fortunate enough to meet aspiring builder Kyle Kuhnhausen. Kyle is a fresh out of business school automotive entrepreneur with a penchant for metal work. Ok, more than a penchant… he has a gift. From the paint scheme to the heavily gusseted cage, this car is well thought out & beautifully executed. How well executed? Well, when we talked he made sure I knew that the LS swap was a place holder engine until they built something truly epic for under the hood. WOW. Some place holder.

Let’s take a moment and revel in my three favorite aspects of this car.

First)

There is the paint scheme. Nimbus Grey (or battle ship grey in some parlance) has to be my personal favorite hue on show cars. It’s rich, it allows shadows to adopt a deep dark over tone, and light reflections to be silvery & pronounced. Every truly beautiful design looks amazing in this color. So… win number one? CHECK! The Peter Brock homage striping is as evocative and respectful of the Z’s motorsport heritage as it is a tasteful modern touch of racer bravado. I dig it. Those famous side stripes actually start on the hood at the vents and then cascade over the fender and down the side forming the Brock stripes we are all familiar with. A killer design cue that is at once forward thinking and period correct. Nicely done.

Second)

Let’s talk about that metal work. The Aero is mean, functional, and gives the car a seriously provocative stance. What’s more – it’s designed to just rip/break away cleanly in the case of a momentary lapse in driver skill (for example paying a visit to say, China Beach at the end of the straight at Mid Ohio). Well played Kyle, well played. However, as fantastic as that aero is, it is nothing compared to the beautifully executed roll cage. Meant to be a street car that can participate is serious track time… it had to be a car from which Dennis could easily get in and out. Kyle kept the safety high by fabricating one seriously artful, yet stout, fully gusseted integrated cage. Take a few moments and look at the cage in this car. I have severe race car envy. My race car has race car envy. Seriously. It is so good that it easily merits adjectives like superlative, excellent, exemplary. Bravo.

Third)

And this is one where so many cars sort of take a pass… the gauge cluster. When a car has track day toy duties, it’s easy to just pick up a digital display, mount it up, and just call it done. Not in this car. The cluster in this car is 13 individual pieces of aluminum lovingly hand shaped into what you see before you. It honestly called to mind some of the extreme and bespoke modern interpretations currently en vogue built around the Porsche 911. The Singer cars being the most notable, they take an air cooled 911 and massage every aspect of the car… and polish, preen, & refine it until it is absolutely jewel-like. The perfect 911. Well, that’s where this Z took me. It’s like a really nice 240Z… only polished to the highest possible degree. Everywhere you look there are tasteful touches. This instrument cluster exemplifies that. The angle at which it is canted toward the driver, the alignment of it inside the MOMO wheel. It’s absolutely glorious.

So yeah, this car is one of the highlights of last year’s SEMA show. It truly was. Bespoke modern takes on past classics are hot right now. Cars like the Singer 911s are fetching 500k and more per unit, so it makes builds like this kind of a serious proposition. Get it right and the value and classic status is legitimate. In the end, Dennis can drive this car on the road or the track, confident in the fact that he found the perfect enthusiast to execute his vision. And he can rest well in the fact that he’s now driving the Singer of Datsun 240Zs.

InZanity 240Z

CHASSIS

1972 Datsun 240z shell

10-point fully tig welded roll cage featuring flared hole body tie-in gussets

Lower jacking & towing points welded to bottom of main cage shelfs

Every unibody seam is fully stitch-welded inside & out, and seam sealed

All top strut mounts replaced with camber adjustable heavy duty plates

Pre-load adjustable tie-rod strut braces featured in engine bay

Tig welded fuel cell cradle with integrated rear center mount tow hook

Rear sub-mounted battery with remote charging points and kill switch

Custom tig welded engine & transmission mounts. Optimized center of gravity

50/50 weight distribution

Bolt-in aluminum transmission tunnel stiffeners / driveshaft hoops

Integrated scraping points for oil pan protection

BODY MODS

Trackspec Motorsports heat extracting louvers on hood & front fenders

Front fender-exit side exhaust with custom alloy diffusing louvers

Rear rockers clearanced for functional rear brake vents, and lowered 1.25”

Fender & rear emblems shaved

Antenna & side marker lamps shaved

CNC billet aluminum laser engraved KMC tail lamp insets

CNC billet aluminum quarter panel vent emblems featuring modernized “Z”

Rear bumper & mounts shaved

Symmetrical rear body pan recess, opposed to unsymmetrical stock recess

Front bumper shaved & swissed with dimple die punched holes

Reinforced rear hatch for functional spoiler mounts

Rear quarter panel turbulent air extraction holes with alloy bezels added

Wide “ZG” style flares, adding 6” of width to the rear fender wells

All body gaps cut, welded, and staked.

Shaved hood springs & streamlined hinges

Show grade bodywork

One-piece front & rear windscreen gaskets

POWER

GM 2004 LS1 engine with T56 6-speed manual transmission

Modified & ported 1.625” primary headers ceramic coated in gold

Bespoke 2.5” Fully pie-cut and tig welded exhaust with front X-pipe (167 weld joints)

Dual 8” sectioned Magnaflow Corvette style mufflers mounted in front wheel wells

Improved Racing 180 degree oil cooler thermostat with 400hp Setrab cooler

Holley Coil on Cover valve covers

Radium Engineering FCST fuel cell surge tank and full fuel system

Vibrant Performance –AN fuel lines

Modified stock throttle body with Lokar stainless throttle cable

Custom 4” aluminum air intake with K&N filter outside engine bay

Aluminum crossflow radiator with 16” Flex-A-Lite electric fan and custom shroud

Modified Hurst short shifter with KMC integrated transmission fluid top-fill

Centerforce single disc clutch

ACT Clutch Prolite lightweight flywheel

Custom one-piece driveshaft

Infinity Q45 R200 differential with VLSD limited slip unit and 3:54 final drive ratio

Nissan Armada CV axles

BRAKES

6-piston Wilwood front calipers & 4-piston Wilwood rear calipers

Fully functional ram-air 3” brake ducting to all 4 corners with custom caliper hats

ASD Motorsports hydraulic 16” e-brake system with braided -3an lines

Wilwood billet master cylinder with modified vacuum booster assembly

Optimized pedal box with reduced weight and improved pedal placement

3/16” Stainless hardlines and -3an braided flex lines

Wilwood proportioning valve with hidden custom mount

Remote Wilwood proportionating valve in-cabin adjustment knob custom retrofit

Custom aluminum master cylinder heat shield

SUSPENSION

Full Arizona Z-Car “Track Pack” billet aluminum adjustable suspension

Arizona Z-Car struts with coilover adjustable springs, modified for tire clearance

Apex Engineered bump steer adjustment kit and high steer knuckles.

Full polyurethane bushings

Modified front crossmember for improved roll center

ST Suspension front & rear sway bars with Energy Suspension polyurethane bushings

5 Lug converted hubs with front Wilwood spindles

ARP chromoly extended wheel studs

Stitch welded and reinforced front crossmember

AERO

Custom HDPE adjustable front air splitter with alloy radiator and brake dams

Custom HDPE adjustable rear diffuser with jacking point & air straighteners

Custom HDPE 6” side splitters with exhaust vent & rear brake vents integrated

Aluminum tunnel underbelly, mostly flat under entire car

Pitch adjustable 3-piece rear deck spoiler with Ringbrother’s micro hinges

ARP carbon fiber micro mirrors

Lexan headlamp aerodynamic fillers

4 Piece aluminum radiator ducting with cabin air ducts integrated

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ELECTRONICS

Street and Performance engine wiring harness with reflashed stock ECU

Braille lightweight I25X lithium battery

Bowler Performance phantom key with Honda s2000 push button starter

Fully custom KMC chassis wiring harness

Fully integrated Passport 9500ci radar detector system

Alpine double-din 6” monitor with frenched backup camera, navigation, and satellite radio

Dakota Digital VHX-1100 competition dash with 16 digital readouts

Dakota Digital BIM 1 OBDII gauge interface

EPAS electronic power steering integrated into Woodward steering column with input potentiometer knob on dash

Custom carbon aircraft-style switch panel with u-shaped toggle protectors

Quick Latch removable main electronics panel featuring Marine resettable circuit breakers

WHEELS / TIRES

18” CCW 3-piece LM20 wheels with gloss black lips, satin black centers, and ARP bolts (18×10 front 18×11 rear)

BFGoodrich Rival S 200tw extreme performance tires (275/35zr18 front 315/30zr18 rear)

Gorilla extended race lug nuts

INTERIOR

MOMO Super Cup FIA homologated seats and alloy brackets

MOMO 350mm MOD. 07 suede steering wheel

MOMO 6pt. harnesses

MOMO quick release hub w/ bespoke manually machined adapter to race column

Highly modified pedal box

Longacre 17” wide rear view mirror

Bowler performance billet shift knob and lever

Aluminum bead-rolled hexagonal pattern fuel cell fire wall

Custom alloy center console, and 3-piece alloy bespoke quick removable dash

Smoothed transmission tunnel

Bespoke flared-hole heel plates

Flared-hole fabricated dead pedal and geometry optimized clutch and brake pedals

Custom heater with 4 vents hidden under removable dash

Hexagonally stitched suede door cards with carbon fiber aircraft riveted inserts

PAINT (All Axalta Refinishes Products)

Chromax Mosaic SBBC B9*01 – Color: Ford Stealth Grey

Imron 3.5 HG+ Polyurethane RH-3714 – Color: Gray 057

LF Epoxy DTM Primer Gray 2540S

Chroma Base “4 to 1” 2K Urethane Primer Filler Gray 7704S

Chroma Priemier Premium Appearance Clearcoat 72500S

Epoxy DTM Activator Medium Temp 2505S

Basemaker Medium Temperature 7175S

Activator-Reducer 60-70 Degree 7765S

Plas-Stick Flexible Additive 2350S

Chroma Premier Pro Normal Activator 14305S

#gallery-0-35 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-35 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-35 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-35 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

OTHER

Rear sub-mounted SPA Technique fire suppression tank with 6 nozzles in cabin/engine

2-piece removable front chassis-mount tow hook

Proprietary differential snout oiling system with Tilton commercial pump and Setrab cooler

Functional side hood winglet to integrated tig welded alloy coolant expansion tank

Dual “II Much fabrication” differential and fuel system vents with custom bracketry and aluminum hard lines.

Extensive use of ARP 12 Pt. stainless fasteners

Text by Tim Neely Photos by Dominick Barbero

InZane in the Membrane: Datsun 240Z SEMA is a hard show at which to properly appreciate cars. On one hand - it’s a show overflowing with some of the best builds you will see all year.

#240z #datsun #LS1

1 note · View note

kanewilliamsontsp · 2 years ago

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Truck Standard Bushing Kit Set Things to Know

Whenever bushings wear, they permit greater development. The driver might feel a shimmy from the front of the truck, or hear thumping or shaking clamors on harsh streets, while turning the wheel or in hard slowing down. Drivers may likewise encounter helpless dealing with or free controlling. Disappointment of back suspension bushings might be more enthusiastically to distinguish as they don't include the controlling system and might be less impacted by cornering. Truck Standard Bushing Kit Set are utilized for control arms, stabilizer bars (additionally called influence bars), rotating conjunctures, tie bars, safeguard and swagger mounts, and other suspension and directing parts, as well as in motor and transmission mounts. They wear and break from grinding, age, heat, openness to street salt and greases, and the pressure of continuous development and weight loads. Like the ligament that safeguards knees and elbows, when bushings wear, it places more weight on the joints and associated parts. Like bone-on-bone contact, worn bushings can permit metal-on-metal contact. Worn control-arm bushings can permit the truck's front finish to get crooked and cause untimely tire wear.

What feels or seems as though worn shocks or swiveling appendages, or another suspension issue, may not be simply the shortcoming of the part yet the bushing that pads joints and mounting focuses. An exhaustive suspension bushing inspection ought to uncover which is the offender. For instance, a free stabilizer bar will permit more body slender (and maybe commotion) reciprocally, however on the off chance that the bar isn't bowed or broken, perhaps just the bushings need substitution. Then again, fix shops might suggest supplanting the part and in addition to the bushings, since, supposing that the are worn, it might show the actual part is old and may not endure significantly longer. Moreover, numerous bushings are squeezed into a metal sleeve and hard to eliminate, which builds work time and expenses. On certain trucks, control-arm bushings can't be supplanted independently, so the technician might need to supplant the control arm itself. Dried-out bushings can likewise be a wellspring of squeaks. A more established truck with oil fittings requires normal oil alongside oil changes (the "lube" part of oil and lube). While the more present day "for all time greased up" bushings in the present vehicles have improved on customary upkeep, the drawback is that they aren't in every case genuinely long-lasting - and when a bushing of this metal-encased plan dries out, it might need to be supplanted altogether to settle the squeaking. In light of how much work related with putting in new bushings on certain vehicles, the general expense can be high comparative with the actual bushings. New bushings, however, can especially work on the ride and treatment of a vehicle that has been being used for a long time.

0 notes

longpharmacy · 2 years ago

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Mini bike chopper frame

Mini bike chopper frame manual#

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This Harley style Mini Choppers have a driving range to about 25 miles with a top speed of 25-30 miles per hour (depending on weather condition and rider's weight). Its motorcycle style solid steel frame is designed with a superior solid frame and fine welding, giving the Chopper III a high quality finish. Other features include a custom tailpipe exhaust, front headlight, front disc brake with rear drum for smooth braking, and an awesome body of steel. X-PRO Raptor 200cc Super Size Mini Trail Bike with Automatic Transmission and Pull Start 19' Wide Fat Balanced Tires (Factory Package, Blue) 14.

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Go Kart 4-1/2 Brake Drum Band, Mini Bike Brake 1-1/4 Live Axle Hub 1 like Free Shipping. It’s the perfect bike for anyone looking for an easier and highly modifiable project. Mega Moto 212cc Mini-Bike Kit MSRP: 699.00 697.00 Mega Moto Mega Moto 80/105 Front Suspension Roller Frame 397.00 Out of stock Mega Moto Mega Moto Mini Bike Frame Kit MSRP: 199.00 130.29 Out of stock Special Offer Mega Moto Mega Moto Mini Bike Frame, fits B80/B105/E1000 MSRP: 149.00 99. Go Kart 4-1/2 Brake Drum Band, Mini Bike Brake 3/4 Live Axle Hub 1 like Free Shipping. Fork, frame, loctite nut, bolt, and bushings. The Chopper III is equipped with a 49cc air cool motor. The RCF Mini Bike is the perfect mini bike for the mini bike enthusiast, young rider, or just about anyone The frame is a very durable all-steel design with pre-drilled engine mounts. Money Back Guarantee ensures YOU receive the. This hot new item is suitable for young teens and adults of all ages. Shop the Largest Selection, Click to See Search eBay faster with PicClick. Inside are main frame, scrub brake, brake spring, washer, cotter pin, front forks, fork bolt, fork spring and fork lowers. Storm 200 Mini Bike, 6.5hp, Disc Brake 799.00. It comes with every part you need to start building your own mini bike. A sport-tuned suspension, hydraulic brake system, electric start, extra wide rear tire and a throaty. Features include a heavily padded leatherette seat, V-Twin engine cover, dual chrome exhaust pipes, fully functional lights and horn. Little BadAss Mini Bike Kit, Just like the Taco 22 sold by Steens in the 60s from 995.00. The Predator Mini Chopper is one heavily chromed-out bike with performance that matches its showy looks. American Racer 215 Mini Bike Kit, Designed after the Bonanza sold in the 60s from 997.00. American Racer 215 Minibike Frame from 395.00. The Mini Chopper III motorbike is another added innovation to the Pocket Bike and Gas Scooter family. Frijole Mini Bike Frame (Frame Only) from 149.00. all original, unrestored 80 Honda Mini Bike - 0 miles since new 60 BSA.

Mini bike chopper frame manual#

Push Button Electric start/ Manual Pull start 7th Annual Las Vegas Motorcycle Auction Vintage, Classic & Special Interest. Mini Choppers - SALE! - was $599 now ONLY $4 Model, choose from 3 mini chopper colors.

#Mini bike chopper frame

0 notes

mercurytail · 6 years ago

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Shifting Sands Chapter 4

:D I proudly present Chapter four! Thanks to @the-hallowed-lady for betaing.

Please be aware that this chapter contains Sexual content.

Please Leave comments they keep me going <3 I Love you all!

Enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15223778/chapters/35309981

Shifting Sands Chapter 4

(Important: The weapon later in the story used by the bounty hunter in Mexico is a modified bolo tie, it is made of wire and the pendant is a heating fixture, it enables the tie to decapitate and cauterize when cinched.)

McCree stirs just as the first light kisses the horizon, turning the sky into an array of blazing orange, vermillion, and lavender; the shy blue basking amongst them. McCree stands and looks to the other room, Hanzo lies on the bed, chest rising and falling steadily. He turns to the cabinet and grabs a bottle of painkillers; god knows he’ll need um. ‘So much for a ‘good night’s sleep’’, He downs four pills with a glass of water.

He peels off his shirt and leans over the sink to wash his hair. He then cleans up his face in the mirror. Satisfied with his priming, he briefly considers grabbing a clean shirt but decides against it so as not to awaken Hanzo. He tosses his old shirt in the corner with the rest of his dirty clothes. He peels off the gauze from his wound and treats it, then dresses it with clean dressings.

When finished, he stows the kit away and returns to the kitchen. He doesn’t have much in the ways of food, but with the rye bread, dried heirloom beans, bacon, leftover avocado and peach preserves, there is the makings of a decent meal in his opinion. He sets his beans to soak and looks over the route they’ll take to his supplier in Santa Fe.

He occupies himself while the beans soak with a cigarillo outside. A couple hours pass and he walks back in. He heats a pan and cooks up the bacon, while two slices of bread tick away in the toaster. He takes the beans from the water and fries them in the leftover bacon grease. Once they're cooked to his liking he mashes them and smears some on half a slice of toast, he lays avocado over them. He spoons a dollop of peach preserves on the side and calls it good.

*grunt*

McCree hears Hanzo stir in the other room. He smirks to himself and scoops up the plates.

***

Hanzo wakes to the sunlight streaming from under the door, he sits up with a groan. The smell of bacon wafts through the air. Hanzo turns and places his feet on the floor, but before he can stand the door opens.

“Mornin’” McCree greets him. Shirtless.

“Good Morning,” Hanzo nods briefly stunned by the man’s soft-toned muscular chest. A water droplet glides down McCree’s chest from his still slightly damp hair.

“Figured’ you’d be mighty famished, what with the day you had yesterday,” He places the plate down on Hanzo’s lap. Then quickly returns with two glasses of water. He sits down on the floor across from Hanzo with his own plate in hand.

Hanzo’s takes in the meal on his lap. The golden preserves are nestled up against the glistening crispy bacon. Hanzo soon realizes just how starved he feels with the pain that blossoms in his gut, he drools slightly. He snaps from his trance and wipes the drool on the back of his hand. He picks up a strip of bacon and scoops up the sweet preserves onto it. The sweet and salty flavor is heavenly in his mouth.

He notices McCree waits kindly till he’s nearly done with his beans on toast to speak.

“So, if you were headed to Gibraltar, How’d you end up here?” McCree says as he finishes chewing a strip of bacon and reaches for his water glass.

Hanzo takes a strip of avocado, chews and swallows it before answering. “As I stated before, I do not know. I had been on a job in Germany when they double-crossed me, I was forced to flee and the last I remember is being confronted with a bomb. I destroyed it. After the explosion, I found myself here.”

“Did you use your lightning to destroy it?” McCree inquires.

“Yes…” Hanzo now finished eating, sips at his water.

“Sounds to me like you might a’ made a rift, what with all that energy being concentrated in one place.” McCree shrugs.

“Rift? Like a kind of space rift?” Hanzo furrows his brow in ah that McCree would have this type of knowledge.

“Yeah, had it happen to me once back in my service days. One second, I was facin’ off against some baddies in Russia, the next, I’m laid out on my ass in the middle a flock of sheep in New Zealand. Helluv’ a ride. Took Winston two weeks to figure out what had happened.” McCree stands and motions for Hanzo’s plate.

“I see…” Hanzo hands the plate over and leans back on his arms on the bed. “By any means, the coincidence of my appearance here was a blessing in disguise for the both of us it seems.” McCree flashes him a wide smile and walks to the kitchen. Hanzo follows.

McCree places the plates in the sink and gives them a quick rinse. “I’m assumin’ you’ll want to shower before we head out. Imma’ pack up some things and get my bike ready.” McCree walks into the bedroom, Hanzo hears him rustling around. The man returns carrying a bundle of clothes and a sleek grey duffle bag. “Help yourself to anything ya’ see.” McCree motions to the soaps near the shower and then proceeds to exit the shack leaving Hanzo to himself.

Hanzo looks at the door for a short moment, He then walks over to his bag and pulls out his comb, razor, and tea soup bar. He lays them on the floor by the wall mirror. He peels off his remaining clothes and folds them individually, laying them over the back of the leather recliner. Lastly, he pulls the yellow silk tie from his hair; it cascades over his shoulders. He reaches up and runs his fingers over his scalp, savouring the release. He turns the knob and allows it to heat up before stepping under the spray.

Hanzo’s sharp cheekbones glisten in the light. He scrubs his hands over the hardened edge of his abs and hip bone. His hard-toned body feels good under is touch. He takes his razor and runs over every inch of himself; he trims up his unruly lower bush, and then trims his beard. He washes his face and hair then rinses off. He towels off and wrings out his hair, then ties it into a high ponytail, his hair and silken ribbon drape down his back. He slips on a black cut-out tank and his Aztec designed pants and puts his gear over top, he then sits in the leather chair to lace and buckle up his boots.

He moves over to his bag and checks its contents. He will need to replace his missing knife, as well as a heady set of arrows and arrowheads. He reaches for Storm bow and gives it an once-over. His bow could use tuning when there was time for it. He repacks then straps on his bag and quiver and places Storm bow over his shoulder.

He then walks out into the morning sun. It’s not hot quite yet but Hanzo senses that will soon change. He talks off his jacket and ties it around his waist. He then turns and makes his way to the back of the shed, where he hears McCree scuffling about.

***

McCree walks around to the back of the shed and opens the hatch. He climbs down into the basement and walks over to his workbench. He places the duffle bag and change of clothes down. He turns and strips, then slips on the clean Shirt and brown suede pants, he rolls up the bottom a couple loops. He folds and places the dirty clothes in the duffle.

He then takes his chest armour off the wall and straps it on. He turns back and takes the chaps off the wall from where they’re hanging and folds them; placing them in the duffle. He takes his holster and straps it on placing Peacekeeper in her place. He unzips a side pocket of the duffle and places spare bullets and flash bangs in it, as well as essentials such as painkillers, sterile wrap, a flashlight, granola bars, and a tin for water.

He places the packed duffle in the saddle bag of the Atlas and buckles it. He slips his switch knife and the bike keys in his pocket, then wraps on his serape; topping it all off with his beloved hat. He takes his bike and pulls it up out onto the packed desert clay then closes and latches the hatch.

Hanzo walks around the corner.

“All packed and ready to go.” McCree tips his hat at Hanzo and winks. “You look refreshed.”

Hanzo ignores the gesture, “The shower was agreeable. Is this the only mode of transportation you have?” Hanzo motions to the Atlas, less than pleased.

McCree cocks his head and looks from the bike to Hanzo and back. “If you’re hatin’ on her, you can just walk. Or we could travel by Sand,” McCree looks Hanzo in the eye. “Or lightning in your case.”

Hanzo bristles, “That would be unsafe and impractical for energy conservation.”

To that McCree moves to the bike and mounts it. He turns and pats the back seat, grinning at Hanzo. Hanzo walks over and saddles the bike behind McCree.

McCree starts the bike and looks back at Hanzo. “Hold on Darlin’,” McCree kicks the bike to life and guns off. Hanzo flails back but finds his hands soon clasp securely around McCree’s waist. He frowns slightly to himself from how much he likes it more than he should. McCree grins to himself all the while. They fall into a comfortable silence.

***

They make it to the supplier in Santa Fe by the late afternoon.

McCree pulls into the alleyway and knocks on the side door of a redbrick apartment building in a rundown part of town. Hanzo stands beside him. A cat walks out from behind a dumpster, completely black all over except for two small white dots just above its brow arches. “You have horns, my friend.” It mewls at him; Hanzo bends down and calmly strokes it. The small hatch at eye level on the door slides open and McCree exchanges words with the man.

Soon the door swings open and they are let inside. The cat follows. The room inside is small, each wall of redbrick possess a fluorescent bar light. The wall across from the door has a waist-high counter, above that are bars to protect the seller; flaking green paint hanging from them. On the left wall is a pair of Iron doors, their glass windows fogged with years of grime. One door is cracked, showing a training mat and small target range inside. The cat leaps up onto the counter and squeezes under the bars, there is a small red pillow on a stool on the opposite side, it jumps up and rolls over on the pillow, all four paws in the air stretching languidly. The man who opened the door seals it and sits down on a padded chair in the corner. He picks up his newspapers and resumes reading it. He’s bulky but seemingly unarmed. But they all know that is a lie.

McCree makes his way up to the counter and knocks on it. “Melanie, you here?”

“Jesse, what brings your sorry ass to my shop?” A thin woman with bright purple shoulder length hair and a septum piercing walks out from the shadows among rows of shelves, she’s tan with black lipstick; a small gold chain hangs around her neck. She wears all skin-tight white clothes. “Oh! And you’ve brought company.” Her eye peruses Hanzo, “Mmmmm, and what fine company it is.”

“Don’t you got a man back home Mel?” McCree raises a brow.

“Just because a girl’s on a diet doesn’t mean she can’t browse the menu, and maybe taste test a little. Now, are you here for business? Or pleasure?” She places her hand on the counter and leans toward Hanzo accentuating her chest.

Hanzo sneers disinterestedly and looks to McCree.

“Sorry Mel, we’re here on pure business. I need a case of bullets and a bottle of gun oil. Also, whatever he needs.” McCree motions with his thumb back at Hanzo.

Hanzo moves forward, “I require a set of arrows, arrowheads, and a serrated pocket knife.”

“’humph’, aren’t you both needy.” She grins at them, “give me an hour and I’ll have it ready for you.” She waves them off and disappears back amongst the shelves, her bladed heels clicking in the darkness.

McCree turns to Hanzo, “you wanna’ spar to pass the time?”

Hanzo huffs amusedly, “I doubt you will present much of a challenge.”

McCree grins wickedly, “Hey now, don’t knock me till you try me.” He flicks his nose with his thumb and saunters into the training room. He removes his armor, hat, serape, and boots. Hanzo follows and removes his arm guard, bag, and boots. They both face each other on the mat and Hanzo bows then ready himself. “Now Darlin’ don’t you feel you have to take it easy on me.” McCree brings his fists up.

McCree swings forward with his left hand. Like a whip, Hanzo flashes out grabs McCree’s arm, curls into him and flips him over his shoulder onto the mat. “I never take it easy.”

McCree grunts on the mat, he rolls over and stands back up. He looks up at Hanzo with a wolfish grin. “Again.”

They ready themselves once more. Hanzo strikes out, going yet again for a disarm and takedown. McCree responds my fanning away. He surges back with a fake left jab when Hanzo responds he then glides his right arm around Hanzo’s head and pulls it back straight against his spine and forces him to the floor. Hanzo collapses and stares up at McCree standing smugly over him. He gets up and readies himself once more.

The next hour consists of both men equally being thrown, pulled, flipped, and driven into the mat. Both with a permanent grin on their face.

A bell rings from the other room. “’Ahem’ Gentlemen I hate to interrupt your date, but I have your items ready.” Melanie spouts from the other room. Hanzo scoffs and walks over to his things to redress. McCree grins and does the same. They both walk out and pay for their items. “Farewell, my dears!” She waves goodbye from her side of the counter. They walk to the door and out into the alley. McCree packs away his items and Hanzo stashes his things in his quiver bag.

“Do you want to stop for the night?” McCree flashes a raised eyebrow to Hanzo.

“That might be wise.” Hanzo joins McCree on the bike and they ride off.

Soon they pull up in front of a rather nice-looking hotel. McCree parks and turns to his duffle. He takes off his hat, and slicks back his hair. He removes his serape and folds it into the duffle. He straightens the wrinkles from his shirt; buttons it completely and tucks it in his pants. He pulls out a pair of thin frame glasses from his bag and places them low on his face. He then places the grey duffle on his shoulder and motions for Hanzo to follow. They make their way inside and to the front desk.

“Hello, a double king suit please, if you don’t mind.” McCree flashes a bright smile with a cheer Hanzo has yet to see from the man. His accent is completely different, and he exudes an arrogant energy.

“Of course, sir, May I have the name and duration of stay?” The receptionist chirps back typing away at the holoscreen.

“Joel Morricone for a single night.” McCree takes out his wallet and pulls out a credit card. It reads Joel J Morricone in the name slot. They pay and are given a room number. In the elevator, McCree is eerily quiet. Once they are in their room McCree shakes out his hair, takes off the glasses and returns them to their case in the duffle. “Which bed you want?” he asks as he simultaneously lays down on one of the two.

Hanzo lays his bag against the wall; he then smirks at McCree who has one eye open at him. “I will use the bathroom first.” Hanzo proceeds to grab an undershirt and a pair of sweatpants from his bag and locks the door to the bathroom behind him.

McCree rolls over and strips down to his underwear, taking a pair of sweatpants from his bag and slips them on. He lies down on the bed and tucks under the top downy comforter.

He smiles to himself. A feeling of fondness blooms in his chest. Not having to explain Joel to Hanzo was comforting. Hanzo knew the need of such alter egos, the requirement to be a different person when the time called for it. He turned over on his side and closed his eyes.

McCree was asleep when Hanzo came out of the bathroom. He pulled back the layers of his bed and crawled in. He turned off the shared porcelain lamp and folded into himself. His breath slowed gradually as he drifted off.

***

They wake at sunrise and travel all morning, they make it to a small Texas town about six hours from Dallas by lunchtime and they decide to stop and eat. Hanzo picks a classic looking diner. McCree comments that it looks a lot like the panorama Diner from back home. “Let’s hope the coffee’s at least drinkable.” They walk in and are seated into a red faux leather booth.

They are both given menus, McCree orders coffee and a glass of water, Hanzo requests mineral water. “I’ll get your drinks and you can order with me when you’re ready” chirps the waitress. She returns with their drinks and they shoo her off till later.

McCree looks over to Hanzo and seems about to say something when a ring echoes out from his pocket. McCree retrieves his communicator and looks at the ID. He furrows his brow and answers.

“Hello Mrs. Shewmore, I’m afraid I ain’t home right now so if you need help….” McCree pauses, his eyes widen. He takes the earpiece out from the communicator and hands it to Hanzo. Hanzo places it in his ear.

“Jesse, I needed to tell you. There was a man that came to my home searching for you.”

“Are you alr...?” McCree starts.

“I am fine, a bit worse for wear but alive, Son I need to know your safe. Ease this old lady’s heart.” She interrupts him and pleads.

“I am fine Mrs. I am off pretty far with a friend,” McCree says with a soft voice.

“Good.” She seems soothed.

“Can you tell us what happened?” McCree ducks his head into his hand propped on the table.

***

A knock sounds from the front step. Mrs. Shewmore scuffles to the screen and raises her eyes, her smiles drops. A Large hulking man stands on the other side. His skin is dark, presumably of mixed descent, freckles scatter across his face. His short, auburn red hair is shaved short. He wears a black short sleeve jacket with a white chest plate over it, military-grade pants with several large pockets adorn his legs; mid-calf boots on his feet.

“Hello Ma’am,” The man pushes open the screen door and forces his way in, “I’m looking for a man by the name of Jesse McCree. I hear tell you might know where he is.” He leans forward a bit casting a shadow over her.

“I am sorry but, I must ask you to leave.” She moves around him and toward the door. The man spins and grabs her by the throat thrusting her up against the wall. He continues normally. “You see, he took something real’ important from me. An’ I plan to make him pay for it.” Mrs. Shewmore grabs the vase on the side table near her and attempts to smash it over his head. The man grabs her arm however and bends it back, breaking it with a sickening snap. She screams out in pain. “Now, you either tell me where his little shithole is in this godforsaken dead land, or I can drag you around behind my truck with me till I find it.” He reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a large chain.

***

A Shadow busts in the door of McCree’s shack. No one is home. The man angrily kicks the side table; it shatters into pieces against the opposite wall. A glare of light catches his eye. He walks over the holoscreen and presses it on. The figure smiles viciously. “Don’t you worry Sammy, I got him.”

***

“After that, I gave him the coordinates of your shack and prayed for your safety. I know you can handle yourself Jesse, but I still worry.” Mrs. Shewmore quips.

“Thank you kindly for the warning Ma’am, I’ll keep a sharp eye out. You get yourself to the hospital now you hear me?” McCree says his pleasantries and hangs up.

He looks at Hanzo as a mixture of emotions crosses his face. Anger, yes, but fear too. Soon, they all melt away and a solemn mask takes their place. “We might have company.”

Hanzo nods, “Do you know if the hunter that made an attempt on your life two days ago worked alone?”

McCree gives him a quizzical eye. “I don’t rightly know.”

They finish their meal and rent a motel for the night. All afternoon they spend researching If Sammy had any recorded partners. Only when searching through a deleted social media page do they find a single name that catches McCree’s eye. Garrett Hazel. The profile shows a single picture of Sammy and Garrett kissing with a caption at the bottom that reads: “To the love of my life, I am hopeful for our bright future.” beside it there’s a wedding ban emoji. Hanzo finds an article on him, “Garrett Peter Hazel, ex-military SEP soldier, he turned to bounty hunting after the programs fall out. His success rate is 96%”

They decide to rest and rise early. They leave in the morning before the suns first rays taint the black sky. They make it to the station before the sun even separates from the horizon. The train is due to depart later in the morning. McCree stows his bike in a garage. They board the train from the back and sneak into the rearmost cabin. Not until the train finally starts to excel down the rail does either man relax. McCree sits back and takes a nap as the train crosses state after state. Hanzo busies himself with his holopad.

“Dear passengers, we will be making our planned stop at Charlotte in ten minutes. Please buckle and have a wonderful day.” The intercom announces overhead. They pull into the station and come to a halt.

McCree stands, “Imma’ take a leak.” He opens the door to their booth and stops when he enters the hall.

Their car is strangely quiet.

McCree reaches for Peacekeeper but has no time to draw before a black bulk slams into him. Garrett nails him in the jaw with a flying punch and knocks him to the floor. Peacekeeper flies down the hall. He pulls a heavy chain from his pocket and goes to wrap it around McCree’s neck.

Hanzo reacts instantly; he lunges forward and grapples around his neck, slinging his legs up over his shoulder and pulling Garrett to the floor. He gets to McCree and pulls him to his feet, but Garrett recovers and grabs for McCree’s ankle, “So weak you can’t even take me alone? Gotta’ have a bodyguard?” Garrett taunts. McCree kicks at his face bending it obscenely back breaking his nose, blood runs down over his lips. Hanzo gets him to his feet as the train is beginning to move again. McCree grabs Peacekeeper from the floor. They make it to the door of the car and attempt to move to the next car up when Garrett catches McCree’s serape and nearly pulls him over the side of the now blindingly fast speeding train. Hanzo scales the train to the roof and pulls McCree up. Garrett soon follows.

“Nowhere to run now,” Garrett whips out his chain and stalks forward. The train is extremely unsteady. They are forced to near crawl to keep footing as they move toward the engine.

McCree turns to Hanzo, “I can’t use my sand at this high a speed, I’ll get ripped away, and Peacekeepers out of commission if I can’t aim.

Hanzo nods and quickly unleashes an arrow into the behemoth of a man. It lands solidly in his shoulder, but the man doesn’t falter. Hanzo releases another, it lands in his neck and still, the man does not slow. His eyes are bloodshot and he’s breathing heavily, seemingly running off pure fury and adrenaline.

Garret roars at the two men, now gating toward them as they clamber up the train. “My arrows have no effect!” Hanzo yells.

McCree looks back at Garret now merely two meters away. “Use your lightning!” McCree shouts.

Hanzo stares at McCree and hesitates. “I can’t”.

McCree looks at him confused, “Why not?!” at this moment Garret closes the distance and throws himself into McCree. They roll, violently trading blows. They topple over the edge and McCree catches the rail bar just barely, Garret clings to him.

Hanzo moves swiftly to the edge and grabs a hold of McCree’s hand. “You are coming with me, you son of a bitch!” Garret bellows from below.

“Hanzo! Use it!” McCree pleads. Their grip slips just a bit.

“He’s too close to you - if I do you’ll get hit by the current!” Hanzo exclaims.

Times stills when Hanzo catches the smiles on McCree’s face, “I trust you.”

Hanzo stares at him for mere seconds, a searing white light lifts from his tattoo and his eyes sprout small arks of electric blue. A bolt lifts from his back and strikes Garrett in the chest, sending a current ripping through his body. Both men scream in agony. Garrett slumps and falls from McCree, His body hits the fast-moving earth below soon out of sight and sooner forgotten.

Hanzo immediately pulls McCree back up on the car. He’s unconscious. Hanzo moves them both back to their cabin and lays McCree down on the floor. There’s no pulse. Hanzo tries CPR on him to no avail.

He screams. Lightning shatters off of him, shattering the glass around them. McCree convulses when he’s hit. Hanzo’s eyes widen with an idea. He grabs for McCree’s prosthetic and grips it tightly. Hanzo sends a shock through it, nothing. He tries again, McCree sucks in a gasp of air. Hanzo feels for a pulse, it’s erratic but most definitely there. Hanzo breathes a sigh of relief and slumps back against the seat.

When the Train reaches the New York station the sun is nearly gone. McCree is awake when they arrive; they exit the train and find an old abandoned apartment building to hold up in. They both feel safer in a no-name place like this. Hanzo moves a heavy desk in front of the door. The only pieces of furniture in the dilapidated studio apartment are a mattress in the corner and industrial spool meant to as a table. Hanzo helps McCree lay down on the mattress.

It’s quiet; aside from the club music weakly bubbling in through the crack in the window.

“Thank you,” McCree breaks the silence.

“I nearly killed you.” Hanzo is facing away from him. He isn’t angry with McCree but feels the need to distance himself. If the man harbors any ill-will toward him, he will bare it. He deserves it.

“Yeah, but you also saved me….twice.” McCree sits up. “Look, Hanzo I know what it’s like to be scared. To not want to use a part of yourself.”

Hanzo whips around staring daggers at him. “How would you know? Sand is slow and child’s play compared to lightning. Do you have any idea how much constant focus I am forced to maintain to keep the lightning contained? To keep it from destroying everything around me? To keep it…from hurting anyone..,” ‘From hurting you’. Hanzo curls in on himself. His lightning has always been unruly, even as a child he excelled at everything else. The elders would prod him, cajole him to master it, he had tried. When he was told to confront Genji…things had gone too far…he had only meant to use it to hinder him…but… Hanzo crouches; he cups his head between his hands making him look even smaller.

“Hanzo,” McCree crawls off the mattress and over to him, “Hanzo, you don’ have to…you don’t. Gaw!” He holds his prosthetic out in front of him, “you see this?” Hanzo nods. “It was about two years after I’d left Overwatch; I got caught by a hunter down in Mexico. Back then I was still green around the edges, still used to being taken care of, I had a hold on my sands but I thought I was untouchable. All I’d ever really used em’ for was to dodge bullets and Deadeye. He caught me real close, and it came to blows real’ quick. We were tradin’ punches left and right when the guy got his weird bolo wrapped around my arm. I turned to sand to try and slip out of it but it hurt so damn bad I couldn’t see straight. Next thing I know I’m lyin’ there bleeding out with my arm turnin' to dust on the ground in front of me. I managed to slither away but when I tried to reattach my arm I couldn’t. It was like it wasn’t a part of me anymore. I passed out in an alley and woke up in a kind old ladies house two days later.

“After that I got scared. Nearly died countless times taking bullets I could a’ dodged because I was too afraid to use my sands again, scared I might lose something else. It was one night at a bar, I was drunk and rambling on, that I met this old man. I don’t even know his name. He told me; “Sounds to me like you’re just waitin’ to die. If you can do something, why don’t you do?” After that I realized I’d given up on myself, I decided I’d learn my sands all over again find my limits and what I was capable of. I started using them every day. I got better; I found my strengths and my weaknesses. I also became deadlier because of it.” McCree leans into Hanzo and wraps his arms around the man. “Look, I’m not saying you have to like it, but caging it’s only gonna’ make it worst, you already know that. You got to find your limits and learn um.” McCree pauses and looks down at Hanzo, a single tear runs down his cheek, he’s staring at the cement below. McCree huffs dismissively.

He stands up “Get up,” he looks down at Hanzo offering his hand.

Hanzo looks up at him, looking to his face then his hand, a confused look on his face.

“This kind a’ sorrow is enough to kill a man… an’ I ain’t gonna’ let that happen tonight.” McCree reasserts his hand. Hanzo slowly stands, placing his hand in McCree’s.

McCree then steps into his space; he holds their hands out to the side and wraps his other arm around Hanzo’s waist. He begins to pull Hanzo along, making small circles around the room. Soon a waltz forms from the slow movements.

Neither man says anything as they continue to make sweeping motions. A slow hypnotizing beat drifts in through the window from the nightclub below. At some point they slow, their breathing is thick between them.

Hanzo gradually lifts his head. McCree surges in to meet him, Lips tangling, its intense as each man tries to soak into the other, both men finally allowing themselves to have what they’ve both yearned for, for so long. Each man needing the intimacy far longer than they’ve even known one another. Their lives don’t leave room for pleasures like this.

****Smut start****

McCree’s hands begin to explore Hanzo’s frame, lightly tracing over his waist and abs. Hanzo reaches up and pulls his hands down McCree’s back savoring the dense muscle underneath. They walk backwards and collapse onto the mattress. Hanzo crowds into the space between McCree’s legs. He slowly lifts McCree’s shirt and follows it with his lips, trailing soft kisses and licks all the way up until they meet in a soft kiss. McCree tugs at Hanzo’s jacket and it is soon gone along with his shirt. They barely break long enough for Hanzo to get it over his head. Their shoes come off somewhere along the way.

Hanzo sucks McCree’s earlobe and traces his teeth down McCree’s throat where he nips. Hanzo suckles one nipple in his mouth, drawing a deep moan out of the man below him. He fondles the other pebble nipple. McCree tangles his hands into his hair, pulling the tie loose. Hanzo grazes his teeth over the nipple as he switches.

After a bit, McCree shivers and sets up pushing Hanzo over to his back. Hanzo goes willingly. McCree crawls over him leaving bites up one arm, across his shoulders, neck, and chest then down the other arm. He squeezes Hanzo’s ass firmly. They kiss once more, tongues sliding deliciously. Hanzo tastes sweet. McCree tastes earthy. McCree reaches for Hanzo’s belt cautiously; Hanzo nods and breathes a silent ‘yes’. Both move to lick and nibble at the other's neck as McCree slides off Hanzo’s pants, underwear coming with them. Hanzo fumbles with McCree’s waistband. McCree chuckles and releases the ridiculous buckle for him, his pants and boxers slide off easily. Their thighs glide over each other as they slide closer. McCree grasps his hands and pins them above his head as they drown in the sensation of skin against warm skin

When they finally touch the friction draws a brisk inhale from both men. Hanzo fumbles for his bag and pulls out a small bottle of lube. McCree raises a brow, “Mighty prepared.”

The corner of Hanzo’s mouth tilt up, “A man has his needs.” He pops open the top and squeezes a bit onto his hand. He warms it a bit before he takes them both in hand, gliding his thumb over their heads. Their breathing hitches. “Han,” McCree slips his hands into his hair. Neither man is anywhere near small, McCree is just a bit longer than Hanzo, while Hanzo hangs thicker. McCree leans in close and bites into the muscles of Hanzo’s shoulder a deep, rumbling moan leaks through. Hanzo arches back and cries out in the mix of pain and pleasure. Hanzo sets a punishingly slow rhythm. Lips connect again in a hot embrace, as both men rut into Hanzo’s tight slick tunnel. Each pull sending heat up their spines.

Soon McCree breaks for air. He pulls back to look at Hanzo and briefly looks away. “Can I…?” McCree doesn’t finish because Hanzo takes his fingers and trails them over his puckered hole. McCree exhales and reaches for the lube with his other hand. Hanzo releases him and he crawls down to mouth at his thighs. He coats his fingers with lube and slides them over Hanzo’s entrance.

Hanzo’s sharply inhales from the chill but soon relaxes as McCree presses in the first thick digit. As McCree works him open, he breathes heavily. Each stroke delicious against his walls. McCree trails light nips and suckles over the skin, leaving marks over his thighs. He soon presses in a second finger and begins to scissor in him. McCree presses into the soft tuft of hair around Hanzo’s length and inhales. He trails his tongue over each ball rolling them one at a time. He curves up his fingers and circles that bundle of nerves over and over that leaves Hanzo a sweating, gasping mess.

“Let me hear you,” McCree whispers, he licks up from base to tip and suckles the head. He takes Hanzo in his mouth all the way down, only gagging once. He works in a third digit and spreads experimentally. He pulls off and pants, “I can’t…can I...” he begs.

Hanzo leans up and grabs McCree’s hair pulling him up for an open mouth kiss. He grimaces at the loss of fullness. He nods vigorously and wraps his ankles around McCree’s thighs coaxing him closer.

McCree lines himself up with Hanzo’s slickened hole and presses in. Hanzo savors the stretch. It takes a few patient thrusts for McCree to sink fully into Hanzo.

McCree kisses him, “Tch’ you feel so good, so hot, so tight around me.” He pulls out and back in just a bit; both men breathing heavily.

Hanzo tightens around him, “Get moving.” He smirks.

Without warning, McCree pulls all the way out to the tip and slams back into him, Hanzo claws into his back and curses. McCree looks more than pleased with himself.

McCree sets a fast and deep pace. Each thrust deeper than the last, Hanzo cants his hips up to meet McCree.

Both men quickly building to their end sooner than either would admit.

“I’m close,” Hanzo’s exhales, to that McCree takes a knee in each hand and bends him over almost in half and pounds into him. Each thrust strikes Hanzo’s prostate; it only takes a handful of strokes to send him careening over the edge streaking white over his chest and stomach. As he cums, he constricts around McCree inside him and the man spills inside Hanzo. “Fuck, Hanzo.”

McCree pulls out and falls onto the mattress beside Hanzo his arm resting over Hanzo’s chest. Both bask in the post-coital high.

After some time, McCree grabs his shirt to wipe them both off and lays down into Hanzo’s arms.

****Smut End****

As He slowly drifts off into a peaceful sleep he hears Hanzo whisper in his ear.

“Thank you.”

NOTES

(The song that plays while they are dancing is Martin Garrix Ocean. And the song earlier is The Weeknd’s Call out my name, and Martin Garrix/David Guetta’s So far Away)

(Hanzo’s outfit from after his shower: https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQXCyj74kfv3gaoRQJK7JtAySlna_2WWIlldJMLntddXH4MFtFg

https://gloimg.rowcdn.com/ROSE/pdm-product-pic/Clothing/2016/03/22/source-img/20160322103105_32428.jpg )

(McCree’s outfit: https://smhttp-ssl-33667.nexcesscdn.net/manual/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/loose-style-long-sleeve-denim-shirts-men-washed-vintage-men-s-casual-jean-shirts-summer-lightweight.jpg

http://www.kinnaird-guesthouse.co.uk/images/large/bblnet/ByH2F8uANfccccceeeee_LRG.jpg )

#shifting sands #mchanzo #mchanzo au #hanzo #hanzo shimada #jesse mccree #mccree #smut #my writing

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