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iggydabirdkid · 1 year ago

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Finally finished! Tried something a bit different for this drawing since I found a much easier and quicker way to do this type than the last time I did it a few years ago.

So here you have it!

Title: Dog

Word Count: 2839

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“Hey Sidestep! Why don’t you go introduce yourself?”

You turn to look at Julia as she breaks away from a pack of hungry journalists to speak to you. Your raised brow is hidden beneath your mask and so you tug the fabric up from beneath your collar and roll up the bottom till the front of it sits on the bridge of your nose. This way when you stare unblinking at the Marshall you know there’s no way she can miss the displeasure in the downturn of your lips.

“You think just because we’re both vigilantes that we should be ‘buddies’?” You mark the air quotes with the subtle bending on your fingers before placing your hands on your hips.

Julia rolls her eyes almost out of her skull, “No, idiot. I just thought it could be nice for you to get to know more people. Especially another kickass vigilante.” She smirks at you then shrugs, “Besides. You never know. You may need help from her one day.”

You bark out a harsh laugh and see the eyes of a few journalists still lingering turn in your direction. You make sure your back is to them, “Bold of you to assume I’d actually ask anyone for help.” You catch the way Julia’s eyes bore into you and watch her features tighten into a familiar picture of concern. And you certainly catch the way her eyes shine with the all more terrifying curiosity. Shit. You look past Julia to where Owl stands a decent distance away, “I guess I see your point,” you concede. Your voice sounds steady.

“Fantastic.” She claps you on the back you can feel the warmth of her touch through your skinsuit. Her hand lingers longer than necessary before it slides up to squeeze your shoulder, “I don’t think I’ll be too much longer,” she smiles at you again and you feel yourself smile back in response, “A few more questions then we should be good to go.”

“You and Themmy better be buying me lunch after this.”

“Anything you want.” The soft smile she directs your way makes you shiver before she drops her hand, “Now go make friends.” She grins and waggles her eyebrows and a snort of a laugh leaves you as you turn around and head towards the aforementioned vigilante. She’s standing by herself with her back to as she looks out into the street. You don’t quite know why she’s doing as such though you suspect she’s purely keeping watch, and the still waters of her mind confirm it to be so. It’s instinct to her and you gleam no danger from her thoughts as you approach. Just a quiet calm. You watch the feathers of her suit move gently with the wind as you approach and she’s still facing away as you open your mouth to say her name and you step closer-

You don’t expect it.

You’re all supposed to be the good guys here and so the blow takes you by surprise. Wide eyes and a tight fist aimed at the center of your face as the shorter woman spins around. And although you’ve seen her fight, up close she is far quicker than you realize.

There’s a sharp crunch and your head snaps back from the force with which Owl strikes you. The pain that radiates through your face tells you that you think your nose broken before the blood that starts pouring from it like a tap turned all the way confirms it. You are temporarily blinded by a shimmering hazy field of red and white and you stumble backwards, trip over a loose slab of something and land hard on your backside, gloved hands slapping against the concrete to arrest your fall.

The blood runs warm and plenty from beneath your half mask and you bring a hand to your nose, watching the red drip through your fingers as you hear shouting somewhere behind you. The ground beneath you shakes when you stagger to your feet.

“Sidestep!!”

There’s a hand on each one of your shoulders and you jerk away on instinct, half-turning as Julia and Themmy move to stand either side of you.

“She-she broke my nose…” your voice is quiet and muffled, uttered through your lips with the stutter of disbelief as you look between the two Rangers. The faces that stare back are pinched with worry.

“Shit! Owl! What the hell??” Julia steps forward and places herself between you and your attacker. You think she’s trying to act as a shield which would make you laugh if you weren’t so pissed. Themmy remains at your side and you feel her fingers dancing lightly over the back of your free hand, asking a silent question. You pull away, curling your hand into a fist as you glare at Owl over the top of Julia’s head.

“She snuck up on me! What was I-“ you don’t hear the rest of Owl’s protest as a low buzzing invades you senses and you drop your blood-covered hand to your side. You feel a gentle tugging of your opposite sleeve but you quickly grow numb to the sensation as your anger flares.

“She broke my fucking nose!!!” Your voice is loud and definitely not shrill as you cut through whatever argument was going on between the two women before you. You’re glad your mask hides the majority of your face and hides the tears you can feel burning your eyes with frustration. Stupid. Stupid!! You had only been following Julia’s suggestion but you should’ve trusted your instincts and played to your strengths. You’re not good around people. You’re not- You don’t realize you’ve stepped forwards until a hand clamps itself around your wrist.

“Annie…” The voice is quiet and low, words only meant for you as Julia holds you back, “It’s not worth it.”

“Let go of me!” you spit out as you yank yourself free. You keep your eyes trained on Owl and the smugness just radiates off her body and mind and you don’t think she’s expecting any retaliation. You know she isn’t. You can see it in her mind. She’s only a handful of years older than you (discounting the strangeness of your ‘birth’) but she thinks she’s better and oh boy, are you going to show her. You tweak her perception just enough that she doesn’t see you coming. Your fist flies in an arc towards her face and the crack that sounds when you smash it into her jaw would be sickening if it weren’t so satisfying to your ears.

You are pulled back by your shoulders and hands shoot down your arms before your wrists are seized and your arms restrained behind you. You hear Julia curse at your back as she yanks you away.

“Fuck!” You watch Owl spit blood at her feet – and is that a tooth? You grin showing teeth and as you stare her down her hand goes to her sword.

“Hold up! Before this gets even more out of hand,” Julia shouts and you haven’t blinked since you set your gaze on Owl. You hope she notices if only to unnerve her. She stares back and you see her grip tighten on her sword’s hilt, “I think you both just got off on the wrong foot.”

“Wrong foot!!?” you yell as you finally break eye contact to crane your neck around trying to catch a glimpse of the bronze-skinned woman holding you tight, “Fuck Charge! I tried to introduce myself and she punched me in the face!!” Your nose throbs and your voice sounds off and you spit out the blood that has collected heavy in your mouth. Your anger has a tight grip on your heart and why won’t she stand up for you?? Julia pulls you close to her chest as you strain against her grip.

“You did start it Owl,” Julia says in way of a not quite reply, “And Sidestep just did what she does.” Still, she won’t let you go. She knows you well, “So we’ll take our leave before this gets any more out of hand.” You sneer at Owl before Themmy appears at your side and you feel Julia’s hold on you began to loosen. Owl just stands there and glares at you with hatred in her eyes and venom in her mind and you watch as her lips quirk into a smile full of malice.

“Just keep your fucking dog on a lease Marshall.”

Dog.

Dog. Dog. Dogdogdogdogdog

You hear a sharp intake of breath at your side and the word bounces around the inside of your skull. You feel yourself grow tense, body locking up as your eyes widen and a single tear escapes as you are quickly and swiftly snared in the sharp-barbed embrace of a memory.

A loud voice shouts in your ear. You do your best not to flinch but the words burrow under your skin like needles. Dogs are only good for following orders, and you can’t even do that right.

Hands tightening on your wrists.

Holding you back.

You can’t lash out but-

But you can.

Julia’s weakened hold isn’t enough to stop you and your close proximity is her downfall, pressed to her chest as you are. You throw your head back and feel it collide with something solid. Swears in Spanish and hands pulling away and you are free.

This time she is expecting you and you know your rage blinds you to the consequences this path will cause. A small voice in the back of your head telling you what you are about to do is wrong but it is drowned out by your anger and the half mad roar that flies from your mouth. You see Owl draw her blade and angle it forwards and you don’t care.

You lunge at her.

Two voices howl out behind you.

The blade pierces your suit, punctures through skin and breaks through the other side of your lower abdomen. The white-hot spark of pain is temporary and quickly fades into a numb nothingness as you grip Owl tightly by the shoulders and shove. The combined weight plus your momentum has you both falling and Owl lets go of the sword as her arms fly out and as you slam her to the ground your world becomes singular. Your head is all noise and emotion and the only thing that keeps Owl from cracking her skull into the sidewalk are her arms, poised behind her back and leaving her sword still skewered through your gut.

You’re nothing but rage and fists as you sit atop her and you see her eyes widen as she looks to the sword that shifts with every move you make and the fact that you are still, up.

You only get one. One good and solid punch that you know breaks her jaw before a pair of hands hook under your armpits and drag you off but not before you lash out, lifting a leg and slamming your heel into Owl’s gut. You watch her double forwards with her hands cupping her face and a spurt of blood leaves her mouth, spraying far enough that the tiny droplets of red spatter across your boots. But then you are clear from her body and Themmy steps in front of you and you no longer see the face of your attacker.

You’re breathing so hard that your chest aches with the exertion and the steady stream of blood runs from your nose and into your mouth, coating your tongue with the taste of iron, before collecting at and dripping off your chin. You can see Themmy’s lips moving as her wide eyes scan your face but all you can hear through the cacophony of sound that is your current state of mind is your own heart beating an all too fast rhythm in your chest. Your already staggered breaths stopper in your throat and when the hands keeping a hold release you you slump to the ground, one arm supporting your weight while the other goes to the blade that disappears into your body.

Your arms shake and your vision blurs as your eyes focus on the steadily spreading patch of red before a pair of hands cup your face and lift your head. Your entire field of view is filled by a pale and freckled face and you try to move away but Themmy holds you tightly, her lips constantly moving. And then whatever dam that had you deaf to the world bursts and you flinch with the sudden intrusion of sounds and voices upon your ears, the short sharp movement sending a flash of pain through you. Your eyes dart from side to side before you hear your name spoken with enough authority that it manages to capture your skewed attention.

“Sidestep!?” Your eyes snap to Themmy’s face, “Just breath with me. Okay?” You’re panicking, you realize, short little breaths leaving your mouth and leaving you light-headed. You blink back tears and swallow down a sob, immediately wishing you had not as warm blood slides down your throat. You retch and splutter, Themmy letting go and leaning back as you hack up blood onto your already stained outfit.

“’m not a fuckin dog,” you rasp as another form kneels to your left. Themmy stands before stepping away completely and you turn your head to regard Julia. Her lips tremble and she moves in a panic as you watch her shaking hands struggle to unzip the first aid kit by her side. It’s then that the reality of what’s about to happen strikes you almost as hard as the punch that shattered your nose. You have a fucking sword in you. And you know that if you let Julia, if you let anyone help, she’ll-they’ll see things and you can’t let that happen. You won’t.

For a moment you find yourself paralyzed by fear and indecision until Julia’s hands reach for you and you push yourself away, shifting the sword and sending a new wave of pain that webs out through your mid-section.

“Annie…” Julia’s voice is low once more and still you wish she wouldn’t use your name so freely in public. You have a sword though you and that’s what you’re worried about? A strange smile briefly resides upon your face. Adrenaline is a hell of a thing. Julia stands, not too quick, afraid of spooking you and you mirror the rise to your own unsteady legs. You stare at her with panic widening your eyes and the feeling of dread only worsens when your gaze slips past to the reporters snapping pictures with too bright flashes. You flinch and swallow your fear – more blood sliding down your throat- as you grip the hilt of the sword, “Annie no!”

Not having hit anything vital (you’re fairly certain), the thin blade slides free with ease. A choked gasp escapes your mouth before you throw the sword to the ground. Julia leaps towards you leaving the kit behind her and you look down at yourself. Blood pours freely from the open wound and your suit readily soaks up the red as the stain grows larger with each passing second. And through the blood, you think you spy a hint of orange.

Julia’s stepping closer and Themmy is approaching your side and you see an opening. You crouch low and for a moment your vision floods white as pain shoots through you before it clears just as quickly and you scrabble against the pavement as you duck around Julia’s grasp – and stumble straight into Themmy.

She has a tight hold of your arm and you spin to face her almost slipping and falling as blood makes the ground at your feet slick. Panic has your head pounding and your heart hammering and you stare at her wide eyed and afraid and maybe that’s what does it. Seeing your absolute fear at something she has no idea about – and so she simply lets you go.

You have no time to stop. No time to thank her as Julia reaches for you and misses as you turn and dive for the first aid kit, careful to not slide in a way that’ll embed dirt in your wound. You don’t need an infection of top of everything else. You scoop up the kit in bloodied hands, push yourself to your feet, and then you’re off like a shot.

Even as Julia and Themmy shout behind you, even as you push through the reporters with one hand pressed at your front and sprint down the street.

You’re fast but you know that right now Julia is faster and you dare to glance over your shoulder at your pursuers. Or your would-be pursuers. You watch as the sea of reporters close in, swallowing up the chasm you had created with your frantic passing and sealing both Rangers on the other side.

A tilted laugh leaves your lips.

Good. Good. Just keep running. Just keep running.

#this was fun to both write and draw #now to focus on finishing the Bad Dat pt. 2 #which I am currently stuck on :'(#fallen hero #annie kane

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cryptidcryptic · 1 month ago

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1, 2, 5, 11, 17, 20, 26 :)

YES!!! This is gonna be so fun 💛🥹💛 thank you for the asks my friend 🥹

1. what would your tavs greeting be (at different levels of approval)?

Negative

-dismissive infernal grunt-

“Someone better be dead”

“What do you want?”

Neutral

-neutral infernal grunt-

“Mh?”

“…can i help you?”

Positive

-enthusiastic infernal grunt-

“If it’s not my favourite killer”

“What’s up?”

Romanced (in the start)

-flirtatious infernal grunt-

“Hey tiger, need somethin?” (Not spoken in infernal)

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

Romanced (end game)

-bessoted infernal purr-

“Finally, you’re back to my side”

“My love, what do you desire?”

Different variations of: ‘my dove’, ‘my peace’, or ‘light of my life’

2. Describe their tent set up! What’s on the outside? The inside

A Druidic, brown and green, botanical mess of plants, and weapons. The edges frayed from the accidental cuts of paws, claws and teeth. Paw marks from various forms embedded in the ground. Honestly it’s more like the den of a highly disorganised bear than a tent. Complete with a seemingly endlessly dark interior, and enough space to fit Bo’s favourite owlbear form. Where Halsin’s tent is a pretty collection of plants Bo’s more wildflowers, nettles and bramble.

5. Describe their idle animations

-knife held on the tip of their claw, until they accidentally drop it, looks around to see if anyone saw their blunder, covertly kicks the knife into their ‘den’

-wildshapes into a owlbear and can be found playing with baby owlbear and scratch. Usually carrying them around on their back.

-squatting, whatever weapon the player last looted held in their tail, attempts to play the knife game with their toes, on a successful game they’ll gift the weapon back to the player with another found treasure, on a loss they Stab themselves and take actual damage.

11. What is your tavs go-to comfort food?

Mushrooms (bloodshrooms and toad stools specifically), sliced and diced on a nice bed of leafy greens and bark (non of h this is edible but they enjoy the taste). Takes them right backto childhood!

17. Do they have any enemies outside of the main plot? Any friends?

Not that they really remember but they had a band of shadow Druid orphans that came with them to bhaals temple, their own lil group of loyal siblings, the temple eventually drove them all away but most of them are still alive somewhere in the forest. Also an incredibly close bond to Lakrisa, borderline in love with her.

20. What is their relationship to touch? Do they shy away from it? Do they need it to feel present?

It differed by the day, perso and situation! With a background full of beatdowns painful touch is something they’re used too, unflinchingly masochisticly so but outside of painful touch, the base reaction is to freeze from it, be wary of it. The dog that spent its puppyhood being kicked will come to snarl at the touch of man and all that. Usually touch does the opposite of grounding. Bo’s childhood being so neglected and alone was kinda their father’s design.

Those who offered them friendly touch usually wanted something or hurt in someway. Unconditional affection had a negative price, so at first friendly affectionate touch will trigger a dissociative-esc reaction. But with enough exposure that becomes pleased and sleepy instead. But only with a trusted few.

26. Give us one of your Tav’s secrets!

Bo writes poetry to Astarion! Pretty well written, Bo’s penmanship is pretty strong (only the speach part of their brain is problemed). Their Sweet nothings whispered to the wind the last little entry to the never shared book:

‘For you I’d carve hearts from chests with viscera intact, yet you’d never notice the sweetness of that act’

#thank you for this it was so fun!🥹❣️#when you love a man so much you spend hours carving out every vein connected to the heart so he can drink the whole circulatory system #without missing a drop 🥹❤️

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authorautumnbanks · 8 months ago

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Accidentally Dating (8)

Summary: A series of accidental dates and meetings between Kagome and Satoru over the years.

Pairing: KagomexGojo

Series Master list

To say Satoru is pissed would be an understatement.

He is furious.

"Get up!" He barks out at InuYasha, who wipes the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "Sorry excuse for a demon."

InuYasha glares, but his ears droop. "It was an accident…I didn't know."

"She's missing half of her soul! You think I want an apology?" Satoru advances. Fuck this. Fuck him. And fuck his sorry ass apology.

"Enough," Father commands. "Both of you." He strolls forward and stands between them on the training grounds.

"What are you even doing here?" Satoru mutters. Doesn't his dad have other things to do, like running Mom around on her errands? That's all he does these days.

"Putting a stop to this foolishness." Father crosses his arms. Satoru squints. Are those marks on his chest? Did he get into a fight? Father normally wears his tops more open, except for today.

"Butt outta it," InuYasha grumbles, stumbling to his feet. "It's complicated, alright."

"The hell it is! You think I care about some dead bitch?"

"HEY!" Father pins him with a glare. "Watch your mouth. I don't care how angry you are."

"This dog boy," Satoru spats out. "Is fine with his zombie girlfriend walking around with half of Kagome's soul, and you're okay with that?"

"No. I never said it was okay, but beating InuYasha isn't going to solve anything, and Kagome will be upset when she hears what you've done."

"She'll get over it."

Father sighs and drags a hand down his face. "And how do you propose you get the rest of her soul back if you can't go down the well?"

Satoru flinches. That's a sore spot and father knows it. That stupid well only lets Kagome and InuYasha pass through.

"Keh, Kagome's fine wit' it. She said so."

"InuYasha, stop talking," Father sighs. "Your mother would be upset to hear you two fighting and no, she would not get over it."

InuYasha flushes. His cheeks are stained pink.

Satoru scowls. Of course, Mom took InuYasha in. She has a thing for strays. They don't need any more family members.

Ito rushes over with a medical kit in hand. InuYasha rolls his eyes and shrugs her away.

"He stinks," Satoru declares.

InuYasha lifts his arm and smells. "I don't stink."

"You smell like dog."

"I am a dog!"

"A mongrel."

InuYasha growls, barring his teeth. "Yeah, and dogs are carnivorous."

"ENOUGH!" Father booms, grabbing InuYasha by the ear.

Satoru smirks.

Father drags InuYasha towards him and grabs his ear, too.

"Oi! Satoru and InuYasha complain. They look at one another and snarl.

"You're both feral children," Father complains. "Ito Fetch one of the drivers and tell him to ready the car."

"We goin' to the shrine?" InuYasha asks. "I can run there faster than some stupid car."

"No, you two are doing a mission. Together."

"Hell no. I don't need his help taking out a curse."

"If it ain't got a shard, I don't care about it."

"Funny," Father drawls, "I don't recall asking either of you your opinion."

"You can't be serious!" Satoru tries to jerk free, but his father grips his ear tighter. "I don't need to learn how to work with him. InuYasha isn't a sorcerer."

Father ignores him and drags them out of the training grounds, past some guards and servants, and down to where the car is. One thing Satoru will say about Ito is she knows how to hustle and she takes her job seriously. It would be nice if she stopped taking orders from the old man since she's supposed to be his attendant.

Ito bows and then stops in front of Satoru. He rubs his ear and huffs. Why is he being dragged into this? Seriously? A mission together? What good will that do? What if he accidentally shoots off a red and InuYasha gets caught in the crosshairs? Satoru covers his mouth with his hand, hiding the smirk.

Doesn't sound like a bad idea. InuYasha allowed some witch to get close enough to Kagome and take her soul. And this isn't even the first time that he let something happen to Kagome after he promised to protect her.

"Satoru-sama," Ito whispers. "I have procured an archery teacher for Kagome."

Satoru cuts his eyes towards her and nods. Good. That's what he's talking about. Efficient. He climbs into the backseat and spreads out his legs. InuYasha growls and spreads his legs out too.

"Don't make me bind you two together," Father warns from the front seat. "Knock it off."

Bind?

Satoru gags. "InuYasha isn't a sorcerer. Don't know if he can even do anything to curses."

"Good thing you'll be there to watch your brother's back then."

"HE'S NOT MY BROTHER!" Satoru and InuYasha shout. They glance at one another and scowl.

Satoru lies his head on the window and stares out. He has nothing more to say. This is the worst. Now he and InuYasha are speaking at the same time. What's next? Brotherly bonding? Disgusting.

"You guys are…back?" Kagome stops right in front of the Goshinboku and her mouth drops.

"Keh," InuYasha says. "Let's get goin'. Tired of being in this time. It stinks."

"You're smelling yourself," Satoru deadpans, wincing slightly. His muscles ache. That mission should have been classified as a special grade one. Whoever scoped out the area and assigned the grade should be fired or forced to do one themselves because what the hell. His Father is strong, but even he would have had difficulty with that mission.

Not that he's going to praise InuYasha for his help, because he's not.

Kagome rolls her eyes. "I'm not going back today. I have a test in the morning. But why do you two look so beat up?" She crosses her arms. The pink sweater looks nice on her, naturally. He had Ito buy it for her.

"Mission," Satoru says, "It wasn't classified correctly. But it's fine. We handled it."

"Yeah, that fucker was annoying." InuYasha mirrors Kagome and crosses his arms. "Kept multiplying and shit."

"Good job sniffing him out, though," Satoru says with a yawn. "It was far more intelligent than some of the other curses."

"Too smart," InuYasha agrees. "Thought they were all mindless. The ones I've seen in my time are nothing more than insects."

"What? So, you have seen some?" Satoru turns to InuYasha. That means InuYasha's time is a part of this world. But if that's the case, where the hell are these demons, then? He'll never admit it out loud, but InuYasha isn't weak. A full-fledged demon must be even stronger.

"Only a few over the century. There were a lot of them in the estate and some villages have some roaming around, but no one seems to notice em."

"Estate? Wait, are you from a clan?"

InuYasha flushes. "Mom got kicked out for sleeping with a demon. Father was some great dog demon or whatever. A general."

Satoru scratches his cheek. "Then why are you so uncouth?"

"Oi!" InuYasha lunges at him and because Satoru still has some fight in him, he keeps infinity off and goes after InuYasha, too.

"Are you two serious right now?" Kagome asks. "Unbelievable."

"Wait!" Satoru punches InuYasha and the cheek right as InuYasha lands a punch on him. "Where are you going?"

"Away from you two. You two fight like siblings, and I don't want that rubbing off on Sota."

"Keh. He started it."

"You threw the first punch," Satoru jabs. "Anyway, where's Mom? I'm hungry." He stretches his arms. Nothing beats Mom's cooking. The cooks at the estate need to take lessons from her.

Kagome squints at them. "She grabbed her purse and left as soon as you guys got here."

She did?

InuYasha sniffs the air. "Old man ain't here either. Guess they went somewhere together."

"They're always together," Satoru huffs.

"Well…Gramps is making dinner tonight."

InuYasha and Satoru both gag. "We're good." They look at one another and sigh. This is getting old. InuYasha needs to go back to his time. They are clearly spending too much time together these days. And he is so over it.

"What's wrong with Gramp's cooking?"

"What isn't wrong with his cooking?" Satoru pulls out his phone. "We can just have Ito come by and make something."

"Absolutely not. Leave that poor woman alone. She needs a break from you."

"First of all," Satoru says, rolling his eyes. "I'm a joy."

InuYasha snorts.

"Second, Ito doesn't want me to die of food poisoning, so she would be more than happy to come out here and cook for all of us."

"Your stomach is that weak? Keh."

Satoru blinks slowly at InuYasha. "Says the dude that can't handle certain smells without passing out."

"I'm a dog!"

"Yeah, and dogs sleep outside."

Kagome sighs. "I'll just leave you two to it."

Satoru snaps his attention to Kagome's retreating form. He jogs to catch up to her with InuYasha not far behind him. "Wait, what if I cook instead? It can't be that hard."

InuYasha laughs.

Kagome trips and almost falls over, but he catches her around the waist.

"You cook?"

"It can't be that hard." He pouts.

InuYasha continues to crackle in the background. Satoru glares at him over his shoulder. Will he knock it off? He can cook. It's not that hard to throw some stuff on the stove.

"This I gotta see. You? Fancy boy, cooking?" InuYasha doubles over and pretends to wipe a tear from his eyes.

"Like you can do any better. You can't even use a remote properly."

"Oi!" InuYasha pushes a sleeve back and shakes a fist. "I bet I can do better than whatever crap you conjure up."

"You challenging me?"

Kagome sighs again. "You two fight like cats and dogs." She walks away again, shrugging Satoru's hold off.

InuYasha smirks. "Yeah, and dogs eat cats."

Satoru clucks his tongue. "How about I knock all your teeth out?" They butt heads, snarling at one another.

"Oh, Mom won't like it if you guys get blood on the shrine grounds," Kagome calls.

They jump back from one another, cross their arms, and huff. Whatever. InuYasha isn't worth the effort, anyway.

***

A/N: Happy Saturday! Suguru's chapter will be next :)

Kagome's grade will for sure be a lot better this time around and Syouma has pulled some strings to keep her out of trouble with the school, so Gramps doesn't get to make up nearly as many diseases as he did in canon lol. Next update will be Wish I Could. Not sure what date that will be coming out.

So this question was more general: "What's going on with your reviewers It's not normal and scary, both for you and for your devoted reviewer. Don't let yourself be peer pressured into writing like this." - I'm not quite sure what you mean by this. Everyone's been awesome and you guys have me cracking up in the reviews. I do appreciate the concern and I want to stress that I'm not being peer pressured into anything. Writing the fanfics is fun for me. It feels like an escape. And if I'm being really honest, me writing the fanfics is me procrastinating lol.

Stay safe! Make sure you are watching/reading/etc things that fill your well. Drink plenty of water and gets lots of rest. Below is a snippet of some original stuff I have procrastinated on lol:

"Here," he holds out his hand.

I gag. "Is that a heart? Are you insane?"

He tilts his head to the left. "You need to eat. Do you not want it? It's from a dark mage."

"I don't care how hungry I am. I am not eating a heart. Or any thing raw."

He shrugs and bites into it.

Oh I'm going to be sick.

"They're looking for you," he says in between bites.

"What? Who?"

"The undead of course. They have orders. But why you?"

"Your humor sucks."

"How strange, every female I have entertained has complimented me on my humor."

What is my life right now? "Perhaps they didn't want to insult your dick then?" Objectively, he's attractive. So it can't be his looks. Though his personality is kinda sucky.

His brows pinch together. "Cocks." Roharu turns away and licks the blood off his hand.

Cocks? As in plural?

"Why would the undead want you?"

I blow out a breath. "I've never seen an undead. The closest I've gotten to the dead is a tombstone."

#gojo satoru x kagome #gojo x kagome #crossover pairings #jujutsu kaisen x inuyasha

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doevademe · 2 years ago

Note

Now I just gotta ask (and I bet you saw it coming) a drabble of Percy's proposal to Nico ✨️🙏please?

Everything was going according to plan.

Things were going great, perfect, even. He knew better than to hide the ring inside food or do something Nico would hate like pop the question in public. It was just going to be a nice walk in the park under the moonlight, and then proposing by Orpheus's entrance to the Underworld.

(It was romantic, okay? It was a place that they visited together, and the entrance itself only existed because of Orpheus being too in love with his wife to let her go.)

The only thing Percy failed to take into account, was the demigod factor.

Also known as the 'neither the gods nor monsters will ever let you be' factor.

"I don't remember anything about Orthrus being this resistant," Nico panted as he evaded another swipe of the two-head dog's gigantic paws. "Did we do something to it?"

"I mean, we technically killed its master," Percy said, remembering Geryon.

"That was almost twelve years ago!" Nico protested. "Where was it when you pierced his three hearts with an arrow?"

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say, as the dog snarled and used its whole body to pin Nico to the ground. His boyfriend squirmed to get away from the two maws trying to bite his face off.

"Get off him, you two-headed freak!" Percy yelled, stabbing him with Riptide. The dog yowled and swiped at him, giving Nico enough room to roll away.

"Percy!" Nico gasped at the new wound on his arm. He turned to glare at Orthrus. "That's enough!"

He raised his arm and started chanting, opening the earth for skeleton hands to hold the monster down.

However, Orthrus was smarter than either of them thought, as he used his second head to bite Nico's outstretched hand, making Nico scream.

"Nico!" He said, but before he could say or do anything more, a large shadow jumped over him.

Percy barely had time to raise his sword up as the shadow went past him and attacked Orthrus.

Snarling dangerously as she attached herself to the monster's neck, Mrs. O'Leary bit and thrashed violently, while Orthrus could do nothing with the skeletal hands holding him down.

"Good girl," both of them said at the same time. Nico smiled at him, but it came more as a wince as he struggled to keep the skeletons on Orthrus.

"I'll finish this," Percy said, approaching and whistling for Mrs. O'Leary to retreat. Orthrus had only half a second of respite before Percy plunged Riptide right on his wound, driving the sword up and taking off both heads at once.

The body thrashed as the skeletons kept dragging it down as it slowly turned to dust.

"Maybe when it reforms Eurytion can train him better," Percy commented, only to drop the sword at Nico hissing in pain. "You okay?"

Nico's hand was all bloody, with prominent bite marks on his wrist. Percy looked at it in worry.

"Nothing some ambrosia can't fix," Nico said, chuckling weakly. "Sorry I ruined the night."

"Don't say that," Percy said as he helped him up. It would take them a while to reach their apartment in Queens, where they kept their stash of ambrosia, unless... "Hey girl, think you can give us a lift?"

Mrs. O'Leary barked happily and knelt down.

"Sorry," Nico repeated. "You even said tonight was special and all, and I wasn't careful enough."

"I just wanted you to dress nice," Percy said gently, helping him up their dog's back. "It's more important that you are okay. Let's go home," he said both to him and to Mrs. O'Leary, whose ears turned back as she ran into a tree's shadow.

They appeared in the alleyway neir their building. Percy petted behind the dog's ears and promised her the biggest steak he could buy soon, making her slobber all over them.

"Even if it's not my fault, I'm still sorry your plan didn't pan out," Nico said, looking at his hand and frowning.

"Nico, nothing is ruined," Percy said. He looked around, was he really going to do this on a dingy alleyway by their building, with their giant hellhound as their witness and covered in dog slobber? "In fact, if tonight reminded me of something, is that we can't take each day for granted."

Yes, he was.

He knelt down and gave his best smile. Nico's eyes widened.

"Nico di Angelo, you are the most amazing person I have ever met," Percy said trying to remember the speech he had prepared. Most of it had references to Orpheus and Eurydice, though, so that was out. "I don't ever want to lose you like... like it could have happened today."

"Y-you're freaking out over me getting injured," Nico reasoned. "You don't even have—"

Percy pulled out the ring box, his smile turning sheepish.

"That's why tonight was special," he said. "So, what do you say? Will you marry me?"

Nico frowned and looked down to his side. Percy felt a slight surge of panic.

"My hand is fucked up right now," he muttered. Percy frowned, not understanding where Nico was going. "You can't put the ring on."

Percy's eyes widened before laughing. Leave it to Nico to worry over such a thing.

"Is that a yes?"

"Did you ever believe I would say no?" Nico asked back. "I have loved you ever since I met you."

"Nico..."

His fiance sighed.

"Yes, Percy Jackson, I will marry you," he said. He used his healthy hand to scrub at his face before any tears could spill. "Keep the ring until after I have this healed, though. I want you to put it on me."

"So traditional," Percy teased. Mrs. O'Leary barked happily.

"And that's why you're marrying me," Nico shot back.

"That, and a million other reasons."

#Percico #my writing #ask #anonymous #writing prompt #I had to do callbacks to PJO era Percico #it seemed fitting

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druidgroves · 2 years ago

Text

ok i spent entirely too long on this so i present to you under the cut:

georgia companion swap dialogue

Georgia: Hey, Codsworth, while I’m out, could you water my plants for me? Thanks, hun. Codsworth: Of course, ma’am. Our geraniums were once the envy of Sanctuary Hills, you know.

Codsworth: I’ll be sure to point sir/mum in the direction of any interesting books while we’re away, Miss Georgia. Georgia: Aw, thanks, honey. See you later, Codsworth.

---

Georgia: Aw, c’mon, Dogmeat, that’s not fair. Put those puppy-dog eyes away! Dogmeat: (Sad whimper)

Dogmeat: (Bark) Georgia: [Cutesy voice] Bye-bye, little baby boy. [Regular] We’ll play fetch when you get back, alright?

---

Georgia: Stay here and hold down the fort for me, will ya? Wouldn’t trust anyone else. Preston: I could say the same of you. You have fun out there.

Preston: Anything interesting to report since we last talked? Georgia: [Excitedly] Oh my goodness, Preston, you would not believe--

---

Georgia: If I see anything story-worthy out there, you’ll be the first person I tell. Piper: Oh, Georgia, you know just what I like to hear. My eyes and ears in the Commonwealth.

Piper: Hey, Specs, my treat at Power Noodles for that last piece you helped me with. It got looots of people talking. Georgia: Ooh, lookin’ forward to it, Piper.

---

Georgia: Sorry to take your spot, Mr. Valentine. Hopefully I’ll be just as effective in your place. Nick: With that attitude, you’re already halfway there. Take care.

Nick: Guess it’s my turn to take a spin. We can finish our talk another time, Missus Tate. Georgia: I’ll make sure to mark it on my calendar.

---

Georgia: Hey, Shades. Don’t wait up, yeah? Deacon: See you later, Teach. Go have some fun for me.

Deacon: Huh, if it isn’t Blast From the Past Two: Electric Boogaloo. Georgia: I’ll just pretend like I know what that means, Deacon.

---

Georgia: Looks like it’s my turn for a loop around the Commonwealth. Talk to you later, Hotshot. MacCready: Try not to get hurt out there, alright? See you later.

MacCready: Hey, Georgia, got any extra credit I can do for you? Georgia: Well, now that you mention it...[Laughs]

---

Georgia: Hey, Hancock, if there are any books you want me to keep an eye out for while I’m gone, you just let me know. Hancock: Hm...Surprise me, won’t ya?

Hancock: Hm...you seem like a Mentats girlie. Favorite flavor? Georgia: [Nervous laugh] Oh, you must be mistaken, I don’t really do chems.[Pause] ...Orange.

---

Georgia: Sorry, Danse, looks like a more delicate touch is needed right now. Danse: Hopefully you'll be up to the task, civilian.

Danse: You keep staring. Is there something you need? Georgia: ...It’s nothin’, you just remind me of someone. Stay safe, Danse.

---

Georgia: Huh, wow, are you sure you want to take me over the strongest woman in the Commonwealth? Cait: Aw, you’re flatterin’ me, sweetness.

Cait: I doubt there’s much you could teach me that experience hasn’t already. Georgia: I dunno, Cait, there’s somethin’ to be said about sittin’ down with a good book.

---

Georgia: Finally wanna travel without people chasin’ you around with pitchforks and torches, huh? Strong: Strong fast. Strong chase back.

Strong: This squishy human weak. Make good food for Strong’s brothers. Georgia: Oh, that’s not threatenin’, no, not at all...

---

Georgia: Oh, bye, Curie! Guess we can finish catchin’ up later. Curie: Au revior, Mademoiselle Georgia. I look forward to our future conversations.

Curie: Mademoiselle Georgia, please do be careful, I think I may have spotted a few large insects on our way in. Georgia: Oh dear. Thanks for the heads up, Curie.

---

Georgia: Hi, X6. Bye, X6. X6-88: From her, that was quite the efficient greeting.

X6-88: Remember you’re traveling with the future of the Institute. Do not let personal feelings get in the way of that. Georgia: If that ain’t ominous...will do, X6.

#rae.txt #OK SOME COMMENTARY LMAO:#piper's nickname for her in companion au would be specs instead of blue bc i feel like they have the same vibe lol #the second set of georgia & mac lines is inspired by his flirt lines with cait n piper lmaoo i thought they were funny #the second set between georgia n danse is a ref to how he kinda resembles her (still dead) ex-husband oops #and also in the past i said that georgia n cait wouldn't get along which is mostly true but. georgia has EYES.#the first of x6's is basically him saying she never shuts the fuck up lmfao #also i did not include the dlc companions bc. im neutral towards them & also have not played the dlcs in Forever #ch: georgia walker

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dogidentifier · 11 months ago

Text

Why do stray dogs bark at night more frequently?

Oh man, those stray dogs and their late-night barking sessions, am I right? It can be so annoying when you're trying to catch some shut-eye and all you hear is a chorus of barks outside your window. But have you ever wondered why they bark at night more frequently?

Well, there could be a few reasons for this. First off, dogs are naturally more active at night. During the day, they might be catching some Z's or just lounging around, but once the sun goes down, their energy levels tend to spike. So it's no surprise that they get a little rowdy and start barking up a storm.

Another reason could be that there are fewer distractions at night. During the day, there's all sorts of hustle and bustle - people walking by, cars honking, birds chirping - and all these things can divert a dog's attention. But at night, when things quiet down, they might start to notice things they wouldn't normally pay attention to, like that squirrel scurrying across the street or the distant sound of another dog barking.

Lastly, it could also be a territorial thing. Stray dogs often don't have a designated home or territory, so they might feel the need to mark their presence by barking. It's their way of saying "Hey, this is my turf!"

So next time you're lying in bed and those stray dogs start their late-night serenade, just remember that they're probably just doing what comes naturally to them. And hey, if you're a dog lover like me, maybe you can even find some comfort in their barks - after all, it's a reminder that our furry friends are out there, living their lives.

And speaking of dogs, have you heard about the Dog Identifier app? It's seriously amazing! With over 170+ dog breeds to choose from, it's the perfect tool for any dog lover. Whether you're trying to figure out what breed your own pup is or just want to learn more about different breeds, this app has got you covered. So why wait? Download Dog Identifier today and unleash your inner dog expert!

#doglife #dog #doglover #dogslife #interesting #dog care #facts

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bubblyhoney · 3 years ago

Note

sarah i have thought of another fic request or like a cute idea i guess! i didn’t have anyone in mind when i thought of it so you can write it for whoever you want honestly :)

okay so the reader is a streamer but streams games like animal crossing, standew valley, etc. then (insert who you’re writing for) says they don’t like that game, but later ends up buying it and the reader is like “i thought you said you didn’t like this game” and they’re like “well i like you” and they confuses their feelings and they end up playing the game together and reader gives them a tour of their island or farm

i feel like this request isn’t good, but the scenario seemed cute and i wanted to share it. sorry if this is confusing or just too specific cuz i know it can be hard to write requests like that! but yeah i hope it gives you inspiration and you like the request <3

new horizons

warnings: language, a Marvel reference (hint: natasha said it about tony), stupid idiots who don’t realize they like each other, use of pet names, Uno rage, Hasan Piker's presence

words: 1473

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

A/N: i’ve been trying to catch up a little on my requests (i’ve only got a couple so i’m not super overwhelmed) but school and outside life has been taking up most of my time so this one took me a while to make! tbh— ive never played animal crossing so i did google some of the game mechanics and i apologize if anything is inaccurate about the game…. but i liked relaxing and writing this cute one so thank you for requesting hails :3

requests/inbox status: open

“This game is trash.”

Your head quirks, fingers stopped on the screen. You’re in the process of giving your character a cute new nickname; it’s kind of hard to decide between “awkward dude” and “elderly skater”.

“Excuse me?” Your chat comes alive with emotes and ‘KEKW’s, obviously entertained by you and your almost-more-than-friends-friend.

There’s a story for that later.

Sapnap’s rough laugh comes through your headset and he audibly swallows, the sound of a water bottle dropping onto his desk echoing.

“I’m just saying—it’s boring. It’s like Minecraft but you don’t like… do anything.” The grainy image of his bearded face shifts and you see him pull out his phone.

“It’s— you can’t even compare it to Minecraft! It’s a completely different game system—you actually interact with other people live in the game.” You huff out a dramatic sigh, slumping in your chair with a pout. “Just because you go into this lucid state where all you know is ‘touch block, hit George’ doesn’t mean this game isn’t fun.” (He scoffs at your awful impression of his voice. Your viewers love it.)

“Jeez,” he mumbles, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle. “Touched a nerve there, bud.”

You roll your eyes, getting back to the village in the game.

“Don't ‘bud’ me.”

The call falls comfortably quiet, the sounds of him tapping obsessively on his phone and you clicking away filling the silence. A gentle bedroom-pop YouTube playlist remains in the background, prompting you to hum along and glance at the chat to see a flood of “check twitter” and “Y/N TWITTER!!”.

“What happened on Twitter?” You mumble, confused, and pull the website up on another monitor. Sapnap just makes a curious noise, swinging back and forth in a circle. “Oh my God,” you say to yourself, fingertips brushing your parted lips.

“What?”

“Hasan Piker just followed me and retweeted one of my not even remotely political old tweets. Like from a year ago.”

“That’s— wow. Congrats?” Sapnap’s voice cracks, and his ears flush pink the tiniest bit when you glance at his face on Discord.

“I’m gonna go on record and say that he could get it.” You shake your head in disbelief.

Sapnap falls uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal, so you look past the frenzied chat and to his screen— wait. He muted and turned his camera off.

“Um,” you start, furiously typing question marks in your private chat. “Where’d you go?” You mute and turn screen share off for your stream, concerned that he might’ve fallen off his chair and broken his neck and needs you to call the ambulance.

The characteristic ding of a twitter notification sounds through your bedroom, and you look at your phone quickly.

“That’s where I went.”

Sapnap Tweeted: “all Y/U stans can choke on my dick”.

“Jesus, Sapnap,” you say, and rapidly refresh to read the replies. This tweet was deleted. “That’s so— that barely makes sense, bro. Why— literally what?”

His snicker floods your ears and you relax in your chair. Crisis: averted. “Don’t fucking— what’s wrong with you?”

“I thought it would be funny,” he offers, shrugging, and fiddles with the straw in his water bottle, smile fading. “And also Hasan pisses me off.”

“Why, ‘cause he wants a piece of this? Jealous?” You think back to your viewers, knowing they’re probably spamming question marks and coming to ludacris conclusions about both of your absences. No offense to them. You remember your stan days very vividly.

“I mean, kinda.” He rubs once at his nose, glancing at the camera (and what feels like you) before taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Wow.” You watch one strand of his hair fall from beneath his hat and brush against his full eyebrows. “I’m uh—I’ll get back to my stream. You coming? Or is it time for a Sapnap-snack?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snorts and leans his chin onto the balance of his arm.

“That means you like to take a little snack break mid-stream and come back approximately nine hours later and you didn’t even eat.”

“You know what— fuck you.” He flicks the camera as you laugh at the look on his face.

The teasing mood is easily kept as you switch games from Animal Crossing to Uno, all the while slamming Sapnap with +4’s and skipping the newly-arrived BadBoyHalo at any chance you can get. It unironically pisses him off and he has to take a Sapnap-snack break midway through (only a fifteen minute break this time, during which you and Bad take a “What Kind of Bread Are You?” quiz). The rest of the night is filled with devious cackles (you), loud and sudden bangs that sound suspiciously like someone hitting their desk in anger (Sap) and the stupid barking of Rat, AKA Lucy (Bad). She’s cute but a menace to the sound quality of Bad’s microphone. You sign off stream around 2 a.m. with various forms of thanks and kisses blown to the camera. It’s been a refreshing night, actually; you’ve been busy organizing a partnership stream all week and all your friends have been busy filming or editing or what-not. Quackity had time for a little Roblox every couple of days, though. He’s got your back.

The next time you see Sapnap is after a two hour stream of him try-harding in Valorant and you finishing responding to an email from your partnership in the VC.

“Okay, I’m back.” You hear him shift in his chair and click a couple more times on his keyboard. You perk up in your chair, closing the email browser you’d been looking at.

“Do you want to play anything else? I’m down for anything.”

“Absolutely not Uno. You can go to hell for giving me 6 cards that one time,” he jabs. You scoff, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Okay, the +4 was on me but it’s Bad who gave you the last two. That’s not my fault, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, trailing off as the clicking of his keyboard stops. “Hey, um—Guess what?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears at the tone of his voice. He sounds nervous; that’s never good.

“I’m scared to guess,” you try, playing with a little Minecraft dog figurine you have on your desk with fidgety fingers. “What?”

“I bought Animal Crossing.”

Silence. You stare at his discord icon blankly, trying to reroute the wires of your brain.

“Tell me you love it.”

“Well… I haven’t actually played it— but you said you liked it, so.”

“So,” you repeat him, ears warming but continuing on. “Is that what you tell all your friends when you buy something they like? That it's because of them?”

He seems to choose his next words carefully, pausing a beat to consider your questions.

“Well, I don’t have a crush on all of my friends.”

“You—what?” You stutter, caught off guard and stumbling. What did he just say? “Don’t tell me you mean you have a crush on me.”

“I’m almost positive I just did.” His discord icon stares right back at you, taunting.

“You know, you’re very casual for someone who just admitted they like-like me.” Your cheeks flush pink and you have to press a hand to your chest to keep your breathing sounding stable.

“Yeah, I’m kind of cool like that,” he offers, a huff of a laugh punctuating his statement. The conversation moves into a lull that you can’t help but know is because of you. He must expect you to say something about it, right?

“You are very cool, Sapnap.” You tilt back in your chair, sucking in a breath to prepare yourself for your next words. “And—Isortakindofhaveacrushonyoutoo.”

He must understand you, for you can hear the grin in his voice when he asks “Really?”

“Y-yeah.” You feel like a preteen again, all shaky and giddy in front of the boy you just asked to a middle school dance.

“Um, alright. What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you answer genuinely and swing in a happy little circle in your chair. “We could play Animal Crossing.”

“I’m down.”

You swear you’ve never heard more beautiful words.

He keeps his camera off for most of the time you two play, too focused on creating his island and asking you questions about how to fish to turn it on. He silently flips it on when you help him decorate his lawn, needing to show you in real-time the decorations he has bought and where you think he should put them. He looks cute. I mean, of course he does. He always does.

You tell him goodbye late in the night, eyes saying a little more than just “see you tomorrow”.

You like him. He likes you.

It’s even better when you two have matching gardens.

A/N: anybody and everybody (especially my precious hailey) let me know what you think!! :]

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x gn!reader #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap drabble #sapnap oneshot #bubblyhoneyfics #honey answers #mcyt x reader #🥚except small

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slasherrabbitmadness · 3 years ago

Text

Bo Sinclair x Female Reader

Sinclair College AU Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Woo, NONCON ELEMENTS! This was written by demand. Seriously, bug me to write the AUs if you want to read them lol

Underthecut - NSFW, NONCON do not read if you do not like noncon, Dark fic, Vaginal sex, brief mention of anal, Bruises, creampie and Brief mentions of pregnancy

You shivered as Bo brought the blankets over you, cooing at how tired you must be, how you'll need all the rest you can get.

The dull ache throbbed throughout your body. Your toes hurt from curling them repeatedly, your hips hurt, from Bo's near incessant pounding and nails digging into your hips. Your breasts were sore, nipples teased and played with so long, his stubble scratched along your valley. Your neck was bruised, a feint handprint along the front mixed in with hickeys. Your lips sore and dry, lip gloss smeared around your mouth.

Dried tears over your cheeks, into your hair, onto the pillow.

"Hey, c'mon Sweets." Bo leaned in to kiss your cheek, making you squeeze your stomach in response, "Hey, you're good." He sat next to you, lightly patting your cheek, "Y'did so good for me, hm? So perfect." He leaned in, lips inches from your cheek, "Just like you've always been."

Bo looked down at you, bit his lower lip as your eyes remained vacant, body reacting out of an impulse to his touch, but emotionally wrought.

"You can rest for a lil while but then we gotta clean ya up, Sweets."

You cringed at the nickname, what was once a cute endearing term made your stomach turn.

"Rest for a bit, then we shower." Bo leaned in to kiss your temple, kissed your cheek ad a chaste kiss over your sore lips.

You curled into yourself, letting the motel blanket, stale smell, and lull you into a weak state of slumber.

Bo walked over to the chair, grabbing his crotch as he sat down, letting his chub rest against his thigh. He tapped his foot on the cheap carpeted floor. He leaned back to rummage through his stuff on the table, grabbing a joint and lighting it up.

He took a hit, leaned back. He listened, listened as the cars outside drove by, tires hissing along the wet pavement. A random dog barking, its deep thundering barks upsetting another tenant enough he heard a woman shouting for the thing to shut up.

The rain hit along the window, repeated taps along it felt commoning to Bo. The dull noise helped with his racing thoughts.

Bo wanted to curl into you, wrap his arms around you, kiss along your shoulder, laugh as you playfully reprimand him "Bo, stop! Your stubble is tickling me!" He smiled, "Bo, least you could do is just kiss me."

He coughed, smoke sputtered out through his lips. A deep hum rumbled from his chest, the image of you and him on the bed, curled into each other came so easily. Just like that one Valentine's day...

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

Bo held you in his arms, hand running up and down your back. He kissed your lips, groaning as you let him slip your tongue in.

He cupped your cheek, tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your moans spurred him on, his thigh pushed in between your legs, spreading you out for him.

"Bo...again?" You asked in a whisper.

"You know you got another round in ya." He kissed you again as he angled his cock at your entrance, grunted as his cock head was met with your warmth. "Ah, sure feels like you're ready." He pushed in, his hands grabbing your wrists to pin them above your head.

Deep intimate strokes have you cantering into him, "Bo..."

"Daddy, c'mon you know how we do this."

"Daddy, please, I want more."

Bo pulled out all the way and bucked forward, a quiet laugh as you squirmed under him.

He picked up speed, huffing and moaning above you. Placed sloppy kisses along your neck, sucking and biting, groaning at the fresh bruises forming along the skin.

"Daddy, ah, more." You freed your wrists from his grasp and ran your hands down his back, resting your hands on his ass. You pushed him further into you, "Daddy please, deeper in me."

His cock twitched in response, "You like when Daddy fucks you? You just need me fuckin' you always."

He kissed you as you moaned in response, hands traveled to the back of his hair, fingers threading through his brown hair.

Bo's hips grew sloppy, your pussy clenched around him as he pushed in deeper and deeper. He wanted to scream out his release, get another call from the front desk. Telling him that there have been noise complaints coming from his room.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in, his movements became shallow, you felt his cock throb within you.

Bo moaned into the kiss, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself into you. He grinned as you sobbed under him, mewling out praises, whimpering how full he was making you feel.

"Daddy, you keep coming in me, and it might just take." He wheezed, running a hand over his forehead to brush away the sweat.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" His smile fell as you gave him a mortified look.

Reality hit him, "Bo, I can't get pregnant. I'm only in my second year of University! I need my degree first. How in the hell can I have a baby? I can't afford it, I can barely afford my classes."

He groaned at your rambling, he knew you were right, knew that realistically you could never afford a baby, that a degree gave you and your children together with a better shot.

He hummed in agreement, pulled you back into him, "Shh, we'll figure it out later." He kissed your forehead, growled as you nipped at his neck.

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

Bo sat up and walked over to you on the bed, "C'mon, we need to shower now."

You remained still, eyes closed, face turning into the pillow.

Bo pulled off the blankets, a hard breath through his nose as he took you in. He lifted you into his arms, pressed kisses to the top of your head, mumbling at how sweaty you smelled and tasted.

He walked into the shitty motel bathroom, a far cry from the last time you ever shared on together on Valentine's day.

The yellow light and avocado green sink, toilet, and tub held a nasty hue.

Bo looked at himself in the mirror as he held you, his eyes held a light pink hue (the weed), bags under his eyes, his hair sticking to his forehead. He grinned taking in the bruises along his shoulders and chest. A mixture of teeth marks and fists.

He set you down, an arm around your waist to steady you.

"Okay, Sweets, gonna get you clean. How many days has it been?"

You swayed in your spot, eyes downcast.

"About five days, best to get you clean." He leaned in to place a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

He turned on the water, the steam rising up to the ceiling. "Let's step in."

The water felt euphoric on your skin, washing away the last five days of bodily fluids. Bo's dried saliva, the dried semen on your front, the bits you couldn't fully wipe off your face. The hot water kissed your bruises, a pleasant ache from the hot touch.

You stared at the yellow shower tile, steadying a breath as Bo rubbed his hands over your body. You let your mind race, let it fall into a day more pleasant thoughts.

You thought of Vincent, his arms around you, holding you close, outside the library. Tears spilled as you cursed yourself, wishing you blew off Dan to accompany Vincent. Wanted to sleep in Vincent's arms like you had been almost every night since you started dating.

"Sweets?" Bo patted your cheek, "You good?"

You snapped your attention to Bo, his thumb whipping away your tears, "Might be in the shower but your red eyes are giving you away." He kissed you, tongue running along your lips.

Bo retched back, hand raised up to his cheek, he looked at his fingers, the blood trailing down.

You held a feral look, your eyes hed a feral glare, your nails with blood being cleaned by the running hot water.

"I. Want. Vincent!" You punctuated each word. Teeth bared to the tall man in front of you. You looked through him, not taking in his baby blues, his confused expression.

Bo gave you a booming laugh, you jumped as he grabbed your wrist, "Five days of this and you still want him. I thought I could get you cock drunk on me."

Be spun you around as he pushed you against the tile. Your front pressed into the slimy uncleaned surface had you gagging.

You steadied a breath again, letting your mind race to Vincent. Not Bo poking his cock along your entrance.

"Y'know, you should be pregnant by now, I think the other whole is a little lonely." You fought back a scream.

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

Vincent ran through the campus, running up to the Flamingo dorms. He had no time to think about how silly it was that the campus dorms have animal mascots.

Brahms burst through the dorm's door. Pulling on his jacket as he scratched his stubble.

Vincent ran up to him, knowing his girlfriend was a friend of his own, "Hey, Brahms, you seen Y/n? Has your girl seen her?"

"No, Princess hasn't seen her."

Vincent would normally smirk at Brahm's nickname for his girl. It was fitting, Brahms did treat her like a Princess. The gifts, the lavish vacation he took her on, she was even invited to a family wedding.

"She did mention that she has yet to get ahold of her though, apparently Dan is upset that they missed their study dates."

Vincent slapped his leg in frustration.

"I haven't seen her in five days. I've talked with my brother but I haven't seen him either." Vincent breathed in heavily, he staggered back.

Brahms reached for him, steadying his friend, "Bo probably took her."

Vincent's eye went wide.

"I mean, think about it, is it that hard to get to that conclusion. You fuck her, start dating her, flaunt how good you've both been to each other. Bo's always been, Bo. Masking his insecurity with macho bravado, hitting on pretty girls, and when they take the low-hanging fruit it fuels his ego. For a day, at least. And the one girl who managed to escape his low-level bullshit falls into his brother's arms, of course, he's pissed."

Vincent clenched his fist, "You justifying my brother?"

"No," Brahms stood up straight, arms over his chest, "Remember when I punched him for bugging my Princess? He tried to jump me a week later. For me," Brahms gave Vincent a cocky smile, "Was nothing. I can only imagine if he had anger towards a female."

Vincent's blood went cold at Brahms words. "Y'sure?"

"Hm, I am an actor! I observe people constantly, I am not known as the best method actor this school has ever had for nothing!" Brahms puffed up his chest, his cocky smile faded as he watched Vincent's shakes become near tremors.

"Look, Vincent, Have you been to the police, her parents, sibling? or whatever?" Brahms leaned closer to Vincent, a sympathetic hand remained on his shoulder.

"Yeah...her parents said...she sounded a little shaken up but fine. They said it was stress. The police are useless."

Brahms laughed, "When are they useful?" He frowned when Vincent shot him a glare.

"Okay, no joking, though not a joke, Look, I'll get Princess later and us three can go around asking for her, okay. I'll even ask my drama teacher to put pressure on the campus police."

Vincent nodded a weak defeated nod.

His hope had been diminishing day by day. He missed class and called into work. The past five days were spent on you, finding you, wanting you back in his arms. The sick feeling in his gut knew you were being held by him...the other half of him.

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

You sat on the bed, your clothes back over your, the warmth they offered little comfort.

"Okay, Sweets, we're gonna get going, alright?" He nudged your shoulder.

"I need to get back to class, Bo. I need to finish my degree." You said lifelessly as if on autopilot.

"You will don't worry." He kissed the crown of your head, inhaling your scent. "Sweets you smell so damn good. So clean for her Daddy."

Your throat felt tight, the urge to barf suppressed as you pinched yourself.

"Why did you cheat on me?"

Bo looked down at you, head cocked, "Cheat on you?"

"Yes."

"I never cheated on you."

"Don't fucking lie to me, Bo!"

He stepped back, hand running over his bandaged cheek. He composed himself, leaning over you, "You better watch your tone." He growled.

The past five days had gotten to you, a resentment, and anger bubbled to the surface, "You date me, Cheat on me, on valentine's day. And you expect me to never be angry, never be upset. And you get mad when I cheat on you. fuck you, Bo. I meant nothing to you. You're nothing to me."

You screamed as Bo shoved you down onto the bed, his large hands pressed hard into your arms, he huffed above you, "Nothing to me? Did I not just spend the last five days lovin' you? Being intimate with you? Shared the most wonderful experience two people together could experience together?"

He shook you as you failed to answer, "Hm? That Valentine's day meant everything to you. This meant everything to you." Bo kissed your tears, gritted his teeth and he shook your head under him.

Bo cheated, he knew this. Knew why he cheated. Self-sabotage as always.

How could someone so sweet, caring, friendly, and loving as you fall for him, why would you? Bo was awful, downright awful, his own parents even said so.

"You'll see, Sweets, you'll see our love grow within you."

You sobbed under him, you murmured Vincent's name, repeating it over and over, as if you said it enough he'd burst through the door, saving you from Bo's hell.

#Bo sinclair #Bo Sinclair x reader #Bo sinclair x you #Bo sinclair imagine #Vincent sinclair #brahms heelshire #house of wax 2005 #smut #Lemon #Dark fic

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dumdumsun · 3 years ago

Text

And Dusk

A/N: Just a heads up, the sensitive content in this chapter will be marked "<<<<<<" as the beginning and ">>>>>>" to signify the end. The racial slurs used in this chapter were targeted towards African Americans (and still are) and I chose these because I, myself, am African American and used them as a sort of “default” for any POC readers. ⚠️Please, never use these towards anyone. Whether it be in a “joking” manner or not. They are hurtful and were created to be that way⚠️ I wrote this chapter the way I did to bring awareness. Proceed with caution. Much love ❤️

Warnings: ⚠️racial slurs⚠️, violence, mentions of guns and dying/death

Word Count: 3707

—————————————

Chapter 3: The Frankel Footage

Shaking himself out of his shock, Five stood from his seat and hurried after his brother, grabbing onto his arm and stopping his strides. “The hell is wrong with you, Luther? I just told you the world’s gonna end in ten days!”

“Yeah, well, you’re always saying that.” Luther nonchalantly spoke before moving away, but Five intervened yet again.

“And so far, I’ve been right.” He hissed as Luther sighed and shook his head.

“Look, you want to go save the world? Knock yourself out, alright? I already got a job.”

“Wait, you work in this shithole?” The boy furrowed his brows.

“Yeah. Well, my boss owns the place,” Luther only received a nod from his brother, so he clarified. “I’m his body man.”

But this only made Five even more confused. “What’s that? Like, a masseuse or something?”

“Okay, you can make fun all you want, but I take good care of Mr Ruby.”

“Wait, Ruby. The Jack Ruby? The gangster who shot Oswald.”

Despite Five’s concern, Luther proudly smiled a smug smile as he glanced over at his boss. “Yeah. The one and only.”

“Well, it finally happened,” Five sighed. “That gorilla DNA has finally taken over your mind-”

“Hey, watch it, alright? Jack’s a good friend-”

“And you’re Number One. Numero Uno. Remember?”

Luther clenched his jaw and shook his head. “There is no Number One. Not anymore. Not in 1963,” When Five stared at him in disbelief, Luther sighed again. “Look, I’ve been stranded here alone for a year. What did you expect?”

Five scoffed. “I get it, alright? You watched Pogo die, the world exploded, and I marooned your big dumb ass in time. I’m sorry, okay? But I’m asking for your help, Luther. The Umbrella Academy needs you.”

“It doesn’t need me,” He slowly spoke to draw out his words. “It never did.”

“Luther, honey,” The waitress from earlier approached the two. “Jack’s about to lose it on some half-wit. A little help?”

“Ah, shit,” He groaned and began walking away. When Five tried yet again to stop him, he whirled on him, his lips pulled into a thin line. “Listen. You’re the genius who said we should jump, right? You’re the one who got us stuck here. And you’re the one who brought Vanya. So, if there is a doomsday coming, she’s probably the cause. And if I was gonna do something about it, it sure as hell is not gonna be with you. That’s (Y/N)’s job, being dragged around into your messes-”

“I don’t drag her into anything.” Five swallowed, blinking rapidly.

“Yeah? Well, she wasn’t stuck as a thirteen-year-old and constantly worrying about her kids until you showed up. I’m surprised she isn’t sick of you yet.” And with that, he stomped away to his boss. This time, Five let him go, his words sending a pang through his chest as he thought back on it. Grabbing his drink, he sighed and shook his head.

“Dad should’ve left him on the moon…” He muttered, taking a sip of his drink before moving to leave his seat. When he felt his jacket snag on something, he looked down to see an object in his pocket. Taking out the tape, he frowned and turned it over.

Date: 11/22/63

Subject: FRANKEL FOOTAGE

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

This world was unfamiliar to (Y/N). She knew she had to have been somewhere in America, but she didn’t know where. The cars, fashion and stores bringing the street she walked to life told her she had to have been in the sixties. But she didn’t want to believe it. Surely Five hadn’t time travelled that far? She had to have been dropped during some type of sixties-theme festival. But the voices suddenly beside her quickly prove her doubts wrong.

“What do we have here?”

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a lost little colored girl.”

Tensing, (Y/N) continued her way down the sidewalk, slightly speeding up her pace, but the men fell into step beside her with ease, flanking her sides.

“You’re on the wrong side of town, girl.”

“Yeah, we don’t like coons around here.” One of them hissed right in her ear. Her eyes welled up with tears before the other shoved her forward.

“Gon now, get!” He ordered as if she were a dog. She realized that’s how they had seen her. An animal. Nothing more. Tripping on a crack in the sidewalk, she fell to the ground, smacking her face on the concrete. She choked out a sob as the two men cackled. And to make matters even worse, she felt the pitter patter of raindrops start to freeze her skin.

(Y/N) gasped out in shock when the men spit two wads of saliva in her face. She knew she must’ve looked a mess with spit and tears sliding down her cheeks and blood oozing from her nose. She hiccupped on her sobs and began to stand, much too tired from her previous fight with Vanya and literally being dropped from the sky to successfully do so. The men backed her up against a wall and one fisted the front of her vest before a voice called out.

“Take your hands off of my child!” Whipping around, the men were half expecting to find another target, but (Y/N) coughed and sputtered nonsense upon the person her gaze fell upon.

“M-Mom…?”

Before her was Grace, but… she wasn’t robotic in any sense. She could tell by the raw anger etched into her features. She took a brave step forward. “I said. Take your hands. Off my child.”

And that was another thing: her accent. (Y/N) was immediately comforted by the stern southern accent the woman shared with her attackers. It was a voice she never thought she needed. The two looked between Grace and (Y/N) with smirks. “You mean this lil ol’ jigaboo-”

“Is my daughter. Now you let her go before I call the police.”

“Woman, I don’t care if you call the police-”

Grace took it upon herself to step closer and grab the child by her arms, yanking her into her warm embrace. (Y/N) immediately latched onto her, quivering in her hold. The men scoffed and shook their heads, beginning to walk away. “Make sure to keep that thing on a leash if you’re gonna have it out, ma’am.”

“Oh, fuck off.” She growled before turning and walking back in the direction the girl came from. As they walked past the alleyway, Grace took out a handkerchief and began wiping the girl’s face clean of what the raindrops hadn’t already washed away. “It’s alright, hun, they aren’t gonna hurt you anymore.”

“T-Thank you.” (Y/N) sobbed and gently held her nose in pain. Grace crouched in front of her and gently held her face in between her hands.

“Don’t thank me, darlin’, it’s how everyone should be treatin’ you ‘round here… Where are your parents? I could take you to ‘em.”

(Y/N) thought for a long moment, watching as the rain soaked Grace’s hair and clothing. The woman didn’t seem to mind as she watched the girl before her swallowing thickly. (Y/N) skimmed over her current choices. She didn’t have any choice.

“I don’t have parents. I-I don’t remember them…”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“I’m tellin’ you, Reggie, she’s highly intelligent for a child her age.” Grace proudly presented (Y/N) to the man she had grown fond of over their time working together. (Y/N), however, was frozen in her spot. Sir Reginald Hargreeves. The man whose death she had wished upon for years, whose death had finally graced her existence, was back in her life. She flinched at the disapproving look on his face, much too acquainted with it by this point in her life. “And she’s very respectful. Talented, too, this girl can speak several languages.”

“You seem rather fond of this child.” The man observed as Grace squeezed her into her side.

“She’s my pride and joy.”

“And you cannot remember anything of your past, child?”

“N-No,” (Y/N) shook her head and stared down. “Not a lot. J-Just my name and birthday.”

Reginald hummed and stared her down with an unreadable expression. When she met his eyes again, he was crouched down to her level, his monocle clutched in his fist. “(Y/N), was it?”

“Yes.”

“It would be an honor to have your presence within my home, along with your mother.”

“O-Oh, that’s okay-”

“I insist. Besides, you have been living with her for almost half a year, correct? It is highly unlikely that she will share a home without you.”

“He’s right about that, hun,” (Y/N) glanced up at Grace, who was smiling warmly at her. “I’m not leavin’ you.”

(Y/N) could have cried.

And she did.

One year later, (Y/N) had been living quite the comfortable life with Grace and Reginald. She had been introduced to the ape, Pogo, for the second time since Grace first started working with him. As much as she loved being around the chimp, it brought back so many memories. She almost felt silly, looking after him sometimes knowing he had done the same for her in the original timeline.

Her relationship with Reginald was nothing she ever expected. He was gentle, well as gentle as Reginald Hargreeves could get, he cared for her, spoiled her, even. She wouldn’t have to ask for anything half the time. If he were to overhear a conversation between her and Grace about a dress she oh-so wanted, it would suddenly be laid out on her bed the next day. She usually had a say in dinner meals every Thursday and Sunday and Reginald listened intently whenever she would voice any discomfort or concerns with her living conditions. (Y/N) never had a real father, but she assumed this is what it was like to have one. She never wanted to let go of it.

For her birthday in 1963, she was surprised that he had actually gotten her a present. As she entered the parlor, she was met with the tiniest bark and an even tinier golden retriever, bounding up to her. She gasped and stopped low, letting him jump into her arms. She let him lick her face and giggled in the joy it brought her.

“Your mother said you would like it. Though I would never allow dogs in my house, I have come to understand that there are rules I must bend for you, my child.”

(Y/N) turned to her father. Yes, father. Reginald, also growing quite fond of their father-daughter bond formed between them, decided to adopt the girl. As much as his beliefs and his deep distaste for children protested. There was just something about this child. Or perhaps it was Grace’s insisting, reassuring him that he would make a wonderful father. (Y/N) was very hesitant at first for her own reasons she never shared, but eventually came around to the idea of being his daughter again.

This was the same Reginald Hargreeves who locked her in a dark room for five days straight, but also an entirely different man. Perhaps it was her fascination with the differences, or maybe she just wanted a real father for once.

“Thank you, Dad.” She softly smiled, the man nodding in response.

“But this is your pet, (Y/N). It is your responsibility. I will not find it in my study, in my bedroom, you are to train it yourself-”

“Can you-”

“And no, I will not help you pick out its name.”

The girl softly groaned and looked back down at her new puppy. Looking into its eyes, she smiled softly at a distant memory as a small child.

“Welcome to the family, Mr Pennycrumb.”

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

(Y/N) groaned when she felt the sunbeams of the early morning sunrise hit her eyelids, coloring her black vision with the stinging fire of orange. Rolling onto her other side, she stretched her blanket over her head. They were yanked away the next second, causing a whine to leave her lips. “Mom… Five more minutes.”

“I let you sleep in long enough, hun, it’s time to get up. You have a date with Preston this afternoon.” Grace gently pulled her daughter to sit up, giggling quietly at her look of disgust.

“Preston? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously, let’s get goin’.” Grace patted her leg and walked to her door, waiting patiently. (Y/N) sighed and rubbed her face, letting her feet slide into her slippers. As they descended the stairs to the kitchen for breakfast, Reginald could hear his daughter’s sleepy complaining from his place at the table.

Setting his utensils down, he turned his head in their direction. “My child, how many times throughout each week must we have to repeat this conversation?”

“Until it starts making sense.” (Y/N) stepped into the dining room, now in her robe, and crossed her arms over her chest. Reginald sighed and stood from his chair at the table.

“You are one of my greatest accomplishments,” He began towards her. “There is no doubt in my mind that you would make a fine successor. I do not believe you will need a husband. In fact, you would be better off without another individual holding you back from what you are truly capable of.”

“But?” She raised a brow.

“But… I have grown to know you more than I expected… and I know that you would need someone to help manage your finances you inherit once I am gone. Preston is a fine young man who was born into this life, made into this life. He will take good care of you.”

(Y/N) knew there was only one person in this world who would truly take good care of her. But he wasn’t here, and she needed to play the part as the amnesiac adopted daughter, so she huffed and nodded. “Fine… I’ll go…”

“Thank you-”

“But only if Mr Pennycrumb can go, too.”

“Very well, but you will not be gifted another animal if you lose it.”

The outing wasn’t entirely bad. (Y/N) didn’t mind the picnic or the art museum, it was the company that made her blood boil. Preston is anything she would have expected out of him. This had been their seventh date, tenth of the ones he planned. (Y/N) sought out any opportunity she could to cancel on him to save herself from the unbearable three hours she would have to spend with the kid. He was arrogant, smug, selfish, narcissistic, and overbearing. Of course, this was not the Preston he presented to her parents. No, to them, Preston was ‘a fine man with a bright future ahead of him’, or as Grace would put it, ‘a delight to have around’. He laughed like a drunk, talked like a husband, and smelled like a man. All at the age of fifteen. (Y/N) had to remind herself on several occasions that she was mentally the older out of the two and to not stoop to his level when he got under her skin.

“Don’t you think, (Y/N)?” The voice brought her attention back to the boy beside her. She looked up from the grass they had been strolling through. When she hummed in question, he amusedly scoffed and side-step closer to her. “Never mind. I should have known you wouldn’t have been interested in politics.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” The girl raised a brow. At her confusion, he laughed and gently tapped the side of his head.

“You’ve always got that head of yours in the clouds. Or turned behind you- like right now.”

(Y/N) turned her head away from where she had been looking over her shoulder. “What? Sorry, Preston, I’m a little preoccupied today.”

“With what, exactly? You don’t seem to be the type of girl to have very many issues. Nothing to worry about.”

“And you wonder why I don’t listen to you.” She sighed as her puppy ran in between her legs, rolling in the grass once he was a few paces in front of them. Preston frowned in distaste and shook his head.

“You should really keep that thing on a leash, sweetheart.”

She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, clenching her teeth as she folded her hands behind her back. “Really now?”

“Really. You know, I’m not very fond of dogs, so I’m not sure how it’ll work out once we’re married. I think we should get one after we have kids, you know? Just so the kids could grow up with it.”

(Y/N) quickly turned her head to the left, pointing out across the street. “Preston, would you look at that?”

“Look at what?” He gullibly looked in the direction, (Y/N) quickly checking the area before almost silently singing her tune. From her shadow, her clone formed and robotically walked behind the two. She quickly switched spots with it and ordered the clone to walk with Preston before scooping her puppy into her arms and rushing off in the opposite direction. Once she was behind a diner far away from their date location, she let out a sigh and gently patted her dog on the head.

“Were you sick of it, too?” She chuckled. Resting the back of her head against the brick wall she leaned on, she let out a slow breath and began to relax. The sound of guns cocking had her head snapping up so fast, she swore she could have dislocated it. Just down the end of the line of stores were three white-haired men, one in a milkman uniform, training their guns on her. (Y/N) didn’t waste a second tucking her dog in front of her and spinning around, charging down the opposite direction as bullets whizzed past her. She dodged them the best she could, jumping a few feet in the air at the ones that threatened to take their place in her feet. It was like a dance; the twisting, spinning and jumping, and she was to perform this dance until one of those bullets killed her if she didn’t find a way out soon. Sliding to the side of a clothing store for cover, she gently shushed her pet as she caught her breath.

The three sets of footsteps eventually found their destination and rounded the corner with skilled quickness, shooting at the girl until she was nothing more than a bloodied corpse on the ground, bullet holes lodged in almost every inch of her body. The three men nodded to each other and turned around, making their way out from behind the stores.

(Y/N) had already been down the street from her house by the time her attackers found the clone in her place. She couldn’t have been bothered to check herself for any wounds, too worried about Mr Pennycrumb’s potential bullet wounds. But the pup was perfectly, happily nuzzling into her arms and wagging his tail. This left (Y/N) to ponder.

Who the hell were those men?

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

“Is it on?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? There’s an ‘on’ button. Just- There’s something over- that jigga-ma-thing, whatever.”

“I hit the jigga-ma-thing!”

“Okay, well, just- Give it to me. I know how to do this.”

“Alright, here, here. Hurry up.”

“Okay, alright, let’s see…”

Lila didn’t look up from her task of painting poor Elliott’s toenails, his bindings he received after threatening the trio with a gun preventing him from moving too much. Which was beneficial to her, as it kept her from ruining the paint job. She softly smiled as she listened to the argument between the elderly couple on the film Five and Diego were intently watching. “They’re so cute,” She commented. “I love old couples. I’m always so proud of them for not murdering each other.”

Ignoring her, Diego turned to his brother from his seat on Elliott’s counter. “Why are we watching this?”

“Shush.” Five replied, eyes trained on the film before him, searching for any clue to the approaching apocalypse, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Yeah, I… I’m Dan Frankel. And…”

“I’m Edna Frankel.”

“...Edna Frankel. We are in Dallas, Texas, to see the president. Today’s date is November 22, 1963.”

Five nodded as everyone’s attention was brought to the projected screen before them.

“That’s six days from now.” Lila spoke as Elliott thrashed about more against his bindings. Diego sat forward in interest.

“Holy shit. This is it. The grassy knoll. Kennedy’s about to get shot. How do you have this?”

“Hazel died to get me this footage,” Five answered. “It must be the key to stopping doomsday.”

“Hazel…?” Diego frowned, remembering the man he spent hours searching for and planning to kill to avenge the death of Eudora Patch.

“Long story.”

“What’s doomsday?” Lila looked up at the boy.

“Longer story.”

“What exactly did he say to you?” Diego asked as Lila turned her head back to the film.

Five shrugged. “Well, he was killed before he could explain. But whatever he wanted us to see, it’s on this film.”

“This is very exciting.” The old man smiled before the sound of gunshots and screaming could be heard, the camera moving around in blurs due to the shock of the old woman filming.

“Oh, my god!”

“Oswald…” Diego whispered, setting his knife down as Five leaned in closer.

“The president!”

When the camera was steadied to record across the street, Five and Diego both stiffened in their spots at what their eyes caught. “Oh, no…” Five breathed and moved behind the projector, rewinding the film and scooting the cart backwards to zoom in closer. The room was silent as Diego stood to his feet and Five rounded the cart before standing beside his brother, directly in front of the film. “This can’t be…”

“Okay, you gonna fill me in now, boys?” Lila glanced between the two. “What the hell is this shit we’re watching?”

But she was ignored yet again.

“No, that’s impossible…”

“Clearly, it’s not.”

“What… What is it?” Elliott muffled past the gag in his mouth.

A beat of silence went by before the two Hargreeves whispered in unison,

“Dad.”

—————————————

Taglist: @unfortu-nate-ly @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya @sm0kingcrack @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @bubblegumflamingos @starstormssymphony @meowiemari @magicalgothpandamaker @simping-4-fictional-men @hehehehannahthings @harrystylescherrie @rhain3 @himikaphoo @zerocanonlywriteshit @xxeiraxx @camerondiaz48104 @isawachickeninatree

#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #tua #tua x reader #tua fanfic #tua five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #number five #number five x reader #five x reader #of starlight #and dusk

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years ago

Text

Let Chaos Reign

Chapter 4- People Of Earth

Summary: On the run from the Avengers in your search for a way off Earth, you meet some mortal annoyances along the way until a certain blue eyed human is able to find you wandering in the forest. But can he convince you to come back to the Avenger’s base with him?

Warning: action, blood, fighting, Bucky doing his best, slight fluff

Masterlist - Chapter 3

So Bucky had been thinking.

If finding Y/N was only as easy as looking at her red dot on the tracker, then damn, he could just teleport to her no problem. Unfortunately the worlds technology hasn't yet reached Star Trek technological advancements, nor can he teleport. It's been a long hectic couple days trying to find her which is starting to drive Bucky up a wall, how is she so sneaky? He can literally see her location at all times but yet she's evaded him at all costs without even trying, she doesn't even know a tracker is attached to the inside of her jacket.

And the team, they haven't been much help at all. They've decided to listen to Fury's orders and stay clear of Bucky's mission when it comes to finding the escaped demigod and bringing her back to the Avenger's base. A lot of help they are. At least Steve checks in for updates when he's not getting pulled into a training session by any particular person of the hour. Maybe the tracker doesn't even work. Maybe?

No, it's Stark made. It has to work, this problem is simply Y/N.

Bucky pulls off to the side of the road near a little park in some rural town way outside of New York City where he knows Y/N went through not even twenty-three hours ago. He opens his door, slamming it shut in frustration before taking in a big breath of fresh air. The day is slightly overcast yet he doesn't appear to mind it at all, having the hot sun blaring down upon him never feels very pleasant. Then again, maybe he's just more familiar with colder temperatures.

A crow flies down across the vacant road from him, it ignores Bucky as it jumps onto the road in order to pick at some road kill of a dead flattened squirrel. Bucky reverts his gaze when his eyes soon land upon a bent wooden telephone line further up the road where it looks like a car ran right into it. Wanting to stretch his legs for a bit and feed into his curiosity, Bucky jogs across the street and over to the area of flattened grass and wood splinters.

He observes the wreckage. Its just as he saw from farther away, a splintered post with pieces of wood spread across the grass from the impact. A couple glass chunks shimmer in the few rays of sunlight peeking out from behind the clouds. There are tire marks imprinted into the mudded ground leading up to the post, he crouches down to get a better look at the source of impact.

A dog barks in the background, its legs getting closer and closer to Bucky until a wet slobbery nose finds its way onto Bucky's right arm. The face of a golden retriever greets him as a young man races to the spot looking very embarrassed.

"Trout! Get away from the man, be nice! Be nice! He might not want your kisses!" He shouts desperately, "Trout!"

Bucky pets the friendly dog while his owner runs to their spot before standing to greet him, "He's fine, don't worry about it."

The red faced man smiles shyly, "I'm so sorry. He gets so excited whenever there's a stranger around I just don't understand it."

Bucky shakes his head, "It's fine, really. I like dogs."

The dog sniffs around Bucky's boots before sniffing the skid marks, "Oh I'm Gio by the way, sorry about my boy Trout. I love him but he can be a lot."

"Hi." Mutters Bucky, "I'm James."

"Nice to meet you..oh..Trout drop that piece of wood you nucklehead it's sharp!" The dog stops before dropping the wood, it starts sniffing around the grounds again. Gio looks at Bucky, "It's too bad what happened here, just last night too. Thank God nobody died! It's just unfortunate."

"What happened?"

Gio nods towards the splintered pole, "Some nutcase ran out in front of the guy driving and then bam, he just swerved to miss 'em and ended up totaling his car and getting a bruised collar bone. He's my neighbor. Poor guy, never got a proper look at the idiot who did it either so there's no one to blame."

Bucky's brows furrow, "No one saw who ran in front of your friend?"

Gio stops a second to think harder on the matter, "Hmm...okay wait a second Nick did say this person moved like faster then a frickin' deer. They were here one second and gone the next, right into the woods."

"Where is Nick now? Is he okay?"

"Oh yeah he's fine, just chillin' in his hospital bed for another day until his headache goes away. Guess he also got a concussion or something, some shit luck I tell you."

"Thank you, I gotta go." Says Bucky quickly before turning on his heels and jogging across the street. Leaving a very confused Gio to go run after his dog again.

There's a hefty possibility that Y/N had absolutely nothing to do with anything surrounding that crash, however, Bucky has to know. He pulls into the Westonville Hospital before Winter Soldier sneaking his way inside and now here he stands on the other side of the door to Nick's room, 213. He knocks, a man answers and says to come in, Bucky does. Shutting the door right after.

The man lays upright in bed, sipping on a juice box as he quickly locks eyes with Bucky. "Hello." Says the twenty-something year old, "You a nurse?"

Bucky could have laughed, "No. Just here to ask you a couple questions."

"Listen man, the police already got my statement. I wasn't drunk...nor on anything at the time. I don't do that shit while driving, I wanna stay alive okay?"

"Right." Mutters Bucky, "I just want to know if you saw this person who caused you to wreck."

He eyes Bucky suspiciously, "Dude are you with the FBI or something? Cause the police think I just saw a deer but I'm telling you it wasn't a deer okay?"

"What was it then?"

The man looks from the door then back to Bucky, he makes a waving motion for him to walk closer, "Dude, this was some lady. She was so fast I never even saw her till she was almost road kill...then....and you're not gonna believe me....then I swear to God, she pushed my car." Whispers Nick before nodding, "Dude that's how I went into the pole, she pushed me and I lost control and BAM! Right into a pole. Asshole, my damn car is fucked."

"Do you know what she looked like?" Nick then proceeds to give an accurate description of you and all your beautiful chaotic-ness, who's apparently still not very fond of human transportation vehicles.

Bucky then glances from Nick still rambling about you and what a dickhead you must be, to the window showing the woods and half a parking lot. He can't let you escape him again, you might end up killing someone next time and that absolutely cannot happen.

——

Stupid men! Stupid humans getting in your way! These people are irritating and bothersome, all you wanted was to search for the Ancient One in peace. All you want is to find her and get the fuck off this planet so you can confront your brother and...

"Miss are you okay?" A scratchy voice speaks to you from the car to your left, you turn your head to meet the face of a young woman looking at you with kind eyes, "You need a ride?"

"No."

She gives you a look, your appearance is admittedly more roughed up then you would like, but it's been a rough couple days since your last shower and you're technically on the run from Earth's Avengers. "You sure? I got room in here, and a nice place to stay with food and a shower too. Just tryna be nice to someone who looks like they could use a hand." You look like you could use a hand to the face.

Your brows furrow, she reeks of too much perfume and something else, "What kind of food?" You technically do need a ride and this may be your only chance to get one somewhere away from this place in the middle of nowhere. Also a place to stay for the night would be admittedly very nice considering you've been sleeping in trees and behind people's sheds.

Her eyes light up in surprise, "Anything you want. Just tell me and I got you."

"Good."

She unlocks the door, "Come on in. I'm Ava by the way. Nice to meet you, now I hope you don't mind but back at my place I got a couple roommates. But don't worry they come and go, they won't bother you I promise." You don't believe her, but hop in next to her anyways. She looks like she could use a better friend then whoever she stays with. You can smell at least one of them on her.

She gives you a strange faltering smile when you take notice of a nose piercing; she wears a jacket and jeans, although an odd tattoo showing off some line of numbers keeps itself on her right wrist hidden by some colorful bracelets. All in all she is an attractive woman. But her car is no better then her person, the scent is vulgar and repulsive but you're admittedly too hungry to care. Too much perfume.

The ride to her apartment complex takes about twenty minutes, in this time Ava has explained to you how her favorite food, chicken alfredo, is made. She also won't stop looking at the long mirror above your heads, it's like something keeps drawing her attention but there's nothing behind the car of any important significance. Maybe that's just a human thing?

Eventually she takes a couple turns that passes more street stores, houses, and apartments until she drives near a gas station and takes a left for an apartment building of reddish brick that looks like a shitty castle.

It's nestled within the town, with its rear to a small park, oddly enough she claims you can see the city from the roof. Getting out, you watch as she shuts her door before jogging to the back and pulling out a couple groceries. "Oh hey there, can you get the waters, there's like three packs here but we can come back for them later."

You quickly walk to the back of her trunk and lean down to pick up all three waters with ease, her eyes go big, "Oh wow..okay yeah, that'll work." She shuts the back, you begin following her across the parking lot. Stomach growling.

Her wary eyes fall onto you, "So uh, you lift?"

"No."

She nods, "Cool cool, uh you from around here?"

"No."

"Okay cool, I am, well not originally...I was actually from Arizona but then I ran away when I was thirteen because my home life was pretty shit and then I met my boyfriend Jed and he took me here and..." Her face shifts into a frown before it regains it's half smile once more, "Doesn't matter now I guess, it's not fantastic here...with him. But I got a place to stay and a roof over my head and he gets me anything I want really. So it's not so bad."

You can't help but feel somethings not right with her, and this bothers you deeply, "So uh, how's your lover? Jed."

She frowns, "Oh he's nice....I wouldn't say lover I guess....and he's kinda older then me but it's fine really. You might see him, he comes and goes yunno?"

She opens the glass doors for you to walk inside, the area smells of stale air and smoke, "How old?"

She purses her lips together, "Not that much older, I'm seventeen he's just a little above that. But it works for us, he's got me a nice place and he loves me so that's nice." Her smile falters, you can tell something isn't right here but can't quite place your finger on it.

Ava keeps silent for the rest of the trek upstairs until she leads you down a long hallway to a tall white door reading A8 on the front, a small glass porthole in the center. She gets her keys out, "Try not to touch anything, he doesn't like messes okay? Just uh, follow me okay, he might have a friend here."

"Alright then. Proceed." She gives a little nod before unlocking the door and opening it up to reveal a large apartment as clean as a button, with the exception of a few tall thin glass bottles empty of all liquid laying on the short glass table in the lounging area. A large screen is on showcasing something of little importance to you.

Ava sets the groceries on the kitchen counter before racing over to the short table, "Oh sorry about the mess, please just set the waters down by the trash can. Give me a moment." You look down to find a tall thin metal can, doesn't look like a trash can but you set the three cases of water down anyways.

Standing in the middle of her kitchen she hastily rushes in to drop the bottles in the trash can, "I'll put the stuff away, do you-do you want anything?"

"Whatever gives me enough strength to continue on my journey."

"Right. Yeah okay uh we got," She opens up the fridge, "we got some burritos from last night. And fruit....a lot of beer....you don't want that. Here, I'll heat this up for you okay." She shuts the fridge and takes the assumed burrito to another square object hanging from the wall. She pops open the door before placing the food inside and shutting it.

She turns it on. "What is that device?" You ask a sit makes a strange vacuum sound.

She raises a brow, "A microwave." Voice on the tinge of humor, the microwave beeps and she soon opens it back up. "Here ya go! It's a day old so don't worry, still fresh."

She hands it to you, you look down at the warm thing wrapped in a brown paper, "Appreciated."

Your meal is well received and admittedly pretty delicious, once finished do you walk over to the giant glass window to have a look outside, you can see the tops of many trees and farther away across the greenery lays a city just as Ava had spoken of.

Maybe the Ancient One resides somewhere in there, hidden, but within the ginormous labyrinth of steel, cement, and glass. Farther down the hallway a door swings open and the pattering of bare feet is heard walking down the tiled floors of shiny white. This place really is clean, like a small palace for the mortals.

The man stops at the end of the halls archway though you don't care to look at him, "Ava who's the bitch over there? I thought Jed wasn't buying anymore for a few weeks." Whispers the man to the kind woman, Ava, who stands frozen in the kitchen.

You immediately don't like him, but stay your ground to listen, she whispers back, "She's a friend. Needed somewhere to stay for a day or so."

He walks over to her, "He's gonna be pissed when he sees your new friend here. If she's not here to sell, get her the fuck out before your man comes home tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yeah tonight. His trip to Vegas ended yesterday, he's on his way. Don't you know how time works?"

She shakes her head, "Guess I just forgot is all. I'll make sure she's gone."

He looks over to give you a proper once over, you can hear his heartbeat quicken, "Not too bad either. Nice ass, she looks good..real good, it's a damn shame she's not here to stay for the fun. I wouldn't mind a couple of rounds with her myself."

Your fists clench, you've had enough of this jabbering animal, "Oh really?" You turn around to watch as his eyes go wide when they take notice of the golden color of your irises, "What filth you spill off of that thing you call a mouth is repulsive and disgusting. Who are you may I ask?"

He quickly retains his swagger once again, he takes a step forward, "I'm Jed's right hand man, Antonio, I run this bitch when he's away and I don't like how you're talking to me."

"I'm not entirely fond of your existence. Leave us, I want to speak with Ava alone."

Antonio's face shows bewildered rejection, "Excuse me?"

You take a threatening step forward, "I don't believe my tongue slipped. You heard me correctly. Leave." He keeps still as a statue, mind still processing your words. Clearly no on had ever bothered to talk to him like this before.

He blinks and points a hand up for emphasis, "No whore tells me what I can and can't do in my own goddamn house!" He immediately rushes past Ava to grab something under the kitchen bar.

She gasps in surprise, "Tony no! Don't do this! Put it away she didn't mean it, she doesn't I swear! I swear!"

He walks back around to shove her into the couch, "Shut up." He throws up his arm to reveal a black hand held object that could be nothing else but a small gun, you stare at it in curiosity, expression interested and unfazed.

He doesn't like that, he tilts the gun at you angrily, "What's up now huh! You ain't telling me to do nothin' I run this fucker up in here! So you're gonna fuckin' listen to me you whore! I'll fu.." Antonio's body stiffens, his eyes go wide as saucers when he realizes he's not able to move, not able to speak.

Hands kept to your sides, you curl the fingers of your right hand to bloodbend this imbecile. Moving this hand to the right, Antonio's grasp is forced open and the gun clatters to the floor. "What are you doing!?" Shouts Ava fearfully.

"Teaching a dog a lesson."

Curling the fingers of your other hand, Antonio is forced to walk in staggered painful steps across the carpet at your will, Ava gasps in fright as she watches your little horror show. "Men don't treat their people like animals, you want to act like a beast. Then you'll be one."

His throat makes a dry crackly sound as he tries to scream when you move your hands to orchestrate a new action, Antonio is forced to his knees where he crawls like a dog across the clean carpet. A frightened man he becomes, his movements choppy and forced, body awkward and stiff as he moves on all fours. Proud of your work, you walk over to the man and crouch down to reach his level, "You see, the universe has created us all for a reason. Whether we are powerful or not, that control we have can be taken as it can be given."

He mumbles a reply that cannot be heard properly even by your hears.

"You know of your power?" He shakes his head as you smirk, "Your strength is built from fear and hatred. That is no way to find your place in the world, that is how tyrants lead."

Drool runs down the side of his mouth as his eyes look up to you pleadingly. "Stop it! You're hurting him!" Shouts Ava.

You give Antonio a pitiful look, "I know. And this creature deserves more then I'm willing him to do, but because you've gained my respect. I will release him." Standing, you flick your hands and Antonio is released from your trance. He coughs and sputters in a curled up heap on the floor like a beaten old dog.

"Pathetic." You mutter dryly as Ava breaths heavily from the couch.

"Wh-what are you?" She whispers, "Are you a witch?"

"No. But I am someone who is done with this place." You give her a respectful tilt of your head, "Ava, I thank you for your hospitality, but I must leave." She watches as you take one last look around the room before walking towards the closed door. Turning the handle you're prepared to exit when she screams. "Antonio no!"

Boom!

The bullet stops three inches from the back of your head, whipping around to face your assailant, he fires two more rounds as you halt the bullets in their tracks. He registers what's happening and quickly chooses to pull the trigger again. As a plethora of steel flies your way, you raise an open palm that causes them all to freeze in place.

The room goes deathly silent before Antonio takes a single step and you've sent all five bullets straight through his vulnerable flesh. Blood flies across the walls as he slumps to the ground while Ava gasps in terror, too afraid to make a sound.

You frown, gaze set on Ava, "I'm sorry I had to do this in front of you. He gave me no choice, but I think this loss will not be mourned over." Your golden eyes flicker back down at the bullet ridden body, "A quick death is more then he deserved. So long Ava, be brave."

The door opens.

"What the fuck happened here?!" Speaks a man most certainly in his late thirties as he sets something on the ground, "Who's this bitch?"

Ava's expression shifts to fear as you let out a tired sigh, eyes set to the man you know as Jed, "An old friend." ——

Crouched down by a river, you rub off flecks of blood that dissipate into the murky water like forgotten memories. You just wanted to eat and rest a while as you gathered your thoughts. But here you are, you've killed two humans and have damaged a couple busses in the process of it all. Not to mention that one car the other night...at least that man kept his life.

This realm is complicated and busy, there's not enough wilderness to hide in and there are certainly too many prying eyes that can catch you with their small square devices easier then you'd like. Thankfully Ava had not seen your rampage on the internet so she wasn't able to instantly recognize you. Then again you weren't wearing your armor.

However your eye color certainly doesn't aid you in finding a way into the city close by, that's still too far for your liking, people will undoubtedly stare. At this point you don't trust a single soul, and anyone close enough to see your face would most likely report you to the authorities in an instant.

Your goal has been thwarted one too many times and that shit does not fly with you one bit. Find the Ancient One, have her open a portal to your realm, and from there kick your brothers ass. It's all very simple, well at least it should be. Stupid Midgardians.

Hrrrrr Hrrrrrrrr! A loud horn blares from within the woods to your back right, twisting around and standing at attention, your fists emit flame when a huge lumbering mass of metal rolls through the trees practically making the ground shake.

It sounds like a tiny thunderstorm, you've never seen anything like it except for when you where in Norway but that vehicle was significantly smaller and less loud. "God this place is insufferable." You mutter, annoyed by the less then peaceful atmosphere of Midgard.

So far you've evaded the watchful eyes of the Avengers for the past three days and have gotten nowhere on your quest for vengeance. And now this thing just adds to your stirred up pot of frustration.

Taking a breath, you decide to wander through the trees until you've found the tracks where that metal vessel was drawing its power from, oddly enough the steel bars attached to plates of wood does not give off energy. Strange.

Figuring it must be the vehicle itself, you sway your mind from pondering the idea as your thoughts drift to that of home and the necklace hidden around your neck. This valued object was your dying mother's, a heirloom of your linage, and a damn powerful piece of jewelry.

But your brother and his wicked ideas, he wanted to use it for his grant thoughts of tyranny and power over the nine realms. A fool, no one could ever claim such a feat, no place needs rules like such from one being calling all the shots. It's madness.

It's insane.

Shaking your head, you keep following down the tracks as you listen to the sounds of cars in the far off distance. Birds chirp and flutter by while minding their business in the forest, although you could have sworn you heard a soft thud in the dirt behind you. A shuffle of stones maybe?

A deer perhaps? No, this is no deer; halting your trek to the city, you place your hands upon your hips before slowly turning around, "I'd expected as much. You are a clever man after all....Bucky."

The dark haired man greets you with a shy grin as he stands there off to the side of the tracks, dressed in casual attire like that when you saw him in Norway. He seems genuinely happy to see you, "I wish I could stay away." Replies Bucky in a playful tone, "But you've killed two human traffickers and I gotta make sure you don't hurt anyone else. Even if they deserve it."

You scoff, "I could end your life right now if I wanted to, kill all your friends next and then burn this world to ash and dust trying to get what I want. No matter the cowards I've killed."

He shrugs, "That sounds harsh. I'd rather you didn't actually, kinda like being alive." He's such a smartass in the best way, yet you hold back a smile to keep your noble aurora about you.

"Fair point I suppose. This Earth may be greatly flawed, but I have no qualms with the people here but that of my own business."

"Right. Your own business, finding the Ancient One and dealing with your brother and all that stuff." Nods Bucky, "Y/N, you know we could help you..."

"I don't need it! I'll find my way through this planet myself. Alone!" You shout, causing the trees to creak and moan from a surplus of wind that blows Bucky's hair about. He knows what you're capable of, but he has to try and persuade you anyways.

He looks almost apprehensive to approach you, "Y/N please. I know we all got off on the wrong foot, probably by a lot. But my friends are good people, we want to help you find what you're looking for. I promise you that." Says Bucky with a pleading look, "No lies. I promise."

You give him a conflicted glare as you think of your options; he found you somehow, he legitimately wants to help, and you desperately need a way off this damn planet. Maybe they do know a way, maybe they'll actually be able to help you, maybe Bucky is truthful?

He goes to take a step forward when you throw a hand out, "Stop." He keeps still as you take a breath, "Bucky, you give me your word?"

"I do."

"Promise!"

Raising his hands up, he gives you a sincere look, "I promise Y/N."

Taking a long moment to think over his words, you finally nod, "Good." He watches as you walk across the tracks until you're within a couple feet of him, he swallows, unsure if you might have just lied and are about to set him on fire. Instead he's relieved when you gift him a tight lipped grin, "Fine then, let us leave this place."

"Awesome.....yeah, okay good...well I'm parked back that way. We can just walk on the tracks instead of through the woods. Easier that way." He takes a couple steps back the way you came, when you don't move does Bucky stop and reach a hand out for you to take, "I'm not going to hurt you Y/N, I promised I'd help you remember?"

"I haven't forgotten." You quickly answer him.

"Good because I intend to keep it." He smiles softly, beautiful stormy blues focused all on you with a gloved hand ready for you to take.

You shake your head before walking past him, "Fine but I'm not shaking your hand."

Bucky chuckles to himself as he watches you practically swagger down the side of the tracks away from him. Quickly does he break from his staring trance to jog over to your side. The two of you walk for a little ways in complete silence until you glance over at him when your curiosity gets the better of you. There's just one tiny question you still need answered, "Well, how'd you find me?"

Bucky holds back a grin, "Your pocket." He points down towards your jackets pocket. Giving him a look of confusion, you reach down and feel inside for whatever he's on about, suddenly your fingers touch something round and metal attached to the inside wall.

Taking a hold of this odd device, you tug it loose before bringing your hand into the open, "What the hell is this?" You ask.

Bucky reaches out to take the object from you, he holds it up, "This. Is a tracker."

"That thing? It's like a thick coin, how does it manage to do such a feat?"

"Technology, radio waves. It's not my design, but with it I was able to follow where you went. Granted you're more elusive with your traveling then I'd first realized, but it did it's job...and now I'm here."

"Yes, now you're here. Maybe you really are braver then I first thought, or just a plain fool. I could have stuck to my word and killed you." You snap your fingers, "Just like that."

He chuckles, "I had a feeling you wouldn't."

"Oh really? What made you assume I would be merciful?"

"When we met for the first time in Norway, and later at the base. You didn't hurt me, well I guess I should say you didn't try and squeeze the life out of me. Or set me on fire.."

"I set your jacket on fire." You point out as he smiles.

"You did. I liked that jacket too." Muses Bucky, "Still, you let me live both times. Even let my friends live too, Y/N, I don't think you're so bad at all."

You hum in thought, "Your words are kind and humbling. But I do not feel worthy of such claims." He has no idea who you are, what you've done. So much he doesn't know.

Bucky frowns, "Why not?"

"I have done nothing but add more chaos to this realm with my existence here, I have been betrayed and for that I was filled with rage taken out on innocent people living their lives. I want to be worthy of what you say I am, but I am not." His heart hurts at your valiantly honest words, if only he could understand completely.

"Believe me Y/N, you aren't nearly as bad as you think you are. There's been way worse people throughout history here before you ever showed up."

"I believe your words though my personal occurrence's chance to lessen these people compared to what I have done centuries ago. Do not misinterpret all of what I speak, I understand there are always beings harming others for their own sick pleasure, however I did not frighten for enjoyment. Quite the opposite."

He could just about give up his metal arm forever just to know what the hell you're talking about. What kind of life did you live before all of this? Bucky soon takes out a small square device with his one gloved hand, "I trust your word on that. And hopefully we're able to help you...I just gotta get us a ride out of here first." He turns on a black screen and slides his finger across to unlock, "I have where I parked pin pointed via another tracker."

"You don't recall where you've come from?"

"Yeah, I mean no..no, I do remember the direction I came in, it's just I was running so fast to find you I forget exactly where my car is. Don't worry this will only take a moment."

Holding back a grin at the way he muddles around on that screen of his, you divert your gaze elsewhere to look around at the trees and other various greenery spread about as usual on a planet such as this one. It's fascinating, almost like that of your home world in Vanaheim. How you miss that place. The vast mountains spread throughout the landscape, huge lumbering trees taller then the cellphone towers you've passed, and great skies of blue where dragons fly at will.

Suddenly a stick cracks in the trees to your right, you turn while Bucky pays little attention, a crow flies out and into the blue sky it goes. Easy now, just a bird, nothing more. The wind picks up for a second and you can almost catch the scent of sulfur when a ball of fire erupts from the trees ready to kill.

The spherical flame screams towards you and Bucky, who's by now dropped his phone onto the tracks, "Y/N watch out!" He shouts fearfully, hand gripping onto your shoulder as you keep a strong fearless stance to the approaching flame.

Throwing a hand out, you divert the ball into the gravel where it bursts like a small firework, rocks flying everywhere as you stand at the ready for whatever happens next. "Y/N! What the hell was that!" Shouts Bucky.

"A scout. I think one of my brother's loyalists found me."

"A scou..." Another ball of flame soars towards the two of you and then another right behind it as you maneuver your body to deflect each of them in quick succession when out of the scorched trees does a smirking woman reveal herself. Her smile is proud and wicked, taller then Bucky she stands and impeccably strong she appears.

She wears armor closely resembling your own, but instead of blues, silver, and white. Her armor is black and red, silver replaced with shimmering obsidian as she walks into the evening light. Her eyes flicker gold like your own, she tilts her head at you, "Princess Y/N of Vanaheim. An honor to meet you, truly." She bows with mockery, you immediately despise her.

"What dog is this who speaks to me?"

She grimaces, "Aüla, master of flame, Phoenix of Vanaheim, I am here to bring what stolen jewelry lays upon your neck. What belongs to King Leyondros." She points a sharp nailed finger to your neck, "That, is a house Lavpranthus family heirloom."

"You think I was born yesterday? That incompetent tyrant who dare claim himself as king does not deserve what treasure I possess. He is barely a brother to me now, and you, what business do you serve?"

She smirks, gifting Bucky with a wink as she wiggles her fingers with flame, "He's sent his best out to find your whereabouts since he's exiled you. I just happened to be lucky enough to land on Midgard where wouldn't you know it, here keeps the banished Princess herself. I couldn't be more fortunate." She opens up her palm like a needy child, "Now Y/N, the object I so desire."

"You will die trying."

She holds up a threatening fist of hot flame, "I will be bathed in riches! I will be loved! King Leyondros will welcome his champion with open arms as I present him with the necklace stolen by his traitor sister! With grand tidings of her annihilation!"

You share a dark look with Aüle as you step in front of Bucky, "I do not care to know what bargaining from the beasts of this realm you made to find me. And I certainly do not care for the false promises my brother has warped into your mind, you cannot take my life and you cannot have this necklace."

She calls flame into both hands, "Then I'll take it off your burnt corpse!" She thrusts her hands forward causing a burst of hot orange flames to shoot like dragon fire straight for yourself and Bucky.

Anticipating this action, you create a wall of your own fire that shatters her advances, you turn to the wide eyed brunette, "Bucky forgive me for not handling this sooner. I hadn't realized she was here."

"It's fine." Mumbles Bucky, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he stares fearfully at the angry woman spewing fire at you still.

Focused back on Aüla, she suddenly begins creating whips of flame that crack and slash at the air. She throws a whip towards Bucky but you're able to deflect it easily, in retaliation of her advances, you thrust a burst of dusty wind knocking her backwards.

She tumbles across the gravel like a discarded sack of potatoes, jumping gracefully down from the high point of the tracks, you land nearby this hellfire spawn who staggers to her feet. Rubbing the dust from out of her eyes, she coughs, "Foul play Princess, I should have guessed you'd cheap shot."

"You still believe you're leaving here with my necklace?"

Leaving her charcoal stained eyes be, she opens her palms to flame, "Well I certainly don't intend on perishing at your hand. I will get what I came for."

You throw a quizzical look, is she insane? Not wanting to ponder her mental stability, you use the gravel to crawl it up to her knees where it fuses and roots itself into the ground, she flails her arms trying to regain balance. Angered by this, Aüla clenches her fists, tightly hugging them to her chest as she concentrates.

A small orange glow emits from the center of her chest before she screams while opening her arms to the sky and with that her whole body erupts with flame like that of a Phoenix reborn. Tree branches and leaves alike are burnt and singed nearby while her anchor is melted. Aüla levitates freely now, body a mass of hot flames as she stares furiously down at you with eyes of black charcoal.

"Behold the Phoenix! Now you will obey by law of the one true king!" Fire is thrown like thin arrows towards your face, again, easily deflected into the gravel below.

She chuckles darkly, thrusting a hand of intense flame that causes you to fall backwards across the ground. Pushing yourself up by the pads of your hands, she takes this vulnerable moment to race after Bucky with wings of fire.

Face contorted like a melted candle, her arms open wide as she prepares to embrace Bucky to the flames. Jumping up, you bend your arms, moving them in opposite directions on a linear path to conjure some type of protection. Aüla slams into an enchanted force field of dark blues that sends her flailing backwards like a bursting firework.

Regaining her balance, she levitates, scowling in disgust, "You? Would protect this mortal man?"

Your gaze falls onto Bucky, he's standing there, expression fearful and wide as he looks at you desperately. You take a step forward, "I will."

"But why? He is nothing compared to you, to us, he's simply an insect on a leaf."

"He is someone who has showed me more kindness in the last couple days then some of my own people have in the past hundred years!" You shout furiously before using your magic to paralyze her like you did with Wanda and Vision.

She struggles to move but all efforts are unfruitful, "Do not! Don't. You. Dare!" She screams as you take another fearless step towards her, raising your hands in a beautiful fluid motion, her obsidian irises flash with terror.

"Aüla, Phoenix of Vanaheim, I admire your efforts and valor. But I am not so merciful when my life as been threatened, as someone of these nine realms with some type of authority still. I, Y/N Lavpranthus of Vanaheim, condemn you to die." Your golden eyes flash with a noble flair of judgment while your hands sway like subtle waves on a beach.

"No. No. Nooo..." Her screams are eradicated when a burst of water consumes her entire vessel, she sizzles and smokes as you draw the river water away to reveal nothing but discarded broken armor. She never even noticed you were doing this.

As a plethora of water dissipates into steam from where she once stood, more liquid fills through the cracks in the gravel while you slowly wander over to the dark spot stained onto the center tracks. Kneeling down, you pick up an obsidian gauntlet cracked down the middle curve. "Who was that?" Asks Bucky from behind you.

"One of my brothers scouts. His best fire-bender.." You study the intricate markings that dance like vines around the metalwork, "..a phoenix in human form."

There is a long pause before he asks, "Why are you being hunted Y/N?"

You sigh, head bowed to the earth, "It's a long story."

Bucky frowns down at you, he's not sure what to do, but he knows you're deeply troubled by whatever events have led you to this point. A comforting hand rests upon your shoulder, "You don't have to tell me now. But I think we should go."

Dropping the broken gauntlet onto the dark stained wood, you stand, "Perhaps you're right. Who knows what else lurks in the shadows waiting to pounce. I'd rather not have you injured on my behalf."

Bucky shares a lopsided grin, "Appreciated. Now come on, I know the way home." Directs Bucky as the two of you begin walking down the tracks for wherever he speaks of.

Maybe these people aren't as bad as you'd first thought, unfortunately there are still evils that are desperate to find you. Until that time comes again.

Tagged: @buckylokisimp @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @bizarrebibitch @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @jmstz @thehornytitties @staygoldsquatchling02 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @mischiefmanaged71 @noragracebrewer @atomicpersonacheesecake @thescarlettvvitch @shawnartmendes

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #series #bucky barnes series #my work

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binniesthighs · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! Can I request a minho smut where y/n and minho are boxing partners and theres that sort of tension at every practice you know? And the boys keep telling you he likes you but you dont listen and theres pining and then finally at that one practice he makes a move and that leads to ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I love your writing so much and I think you're absolutely great🥺

ANON I love the way that your brain works I’m losing my MIND over this one. oh my gosh and I’ve been dying to write some minho so this has given me the best excuse!!! also thank you so much lovely! It makes me feel all fuzzy inside knowing that ya like my writing! and you’re great was well anon ;)

pinned | reader x minho |

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x lee minho

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: boxer!minho, boxer!reader, boxer au, pining!minho ahhhh, skz side characters, friends to lovers, growing feelings, minho is whipped for the reader, praising, sexual tension, oral (r & m receiving), marking, unprotected sex (stay safe loves!), soft shower sex

Word count: 4.2k

“Again! Minho, watch your footing, you’re tripping all over yourself.”

Seungmin threw a towel in the general direction of your sparring partner who nearly missed it flying at his head. Beads of sweat waterfalled down his forehead, and it got stuck in his scalp, turning his hair into strands.

“Getting tired?” You jested as Jeongin tightened up your gloves.

He smirked out a little, “Tired? I’m just getting started.”

“You’re losing your edge Lee Minho. I’ve knocked you down at least four times already.” Jeongin helped you by squirting water into your mouth. The cool drops felt heavenly falling down your neck.

“Distracted then?” Hyunjin whipped his disheveled blond hair into a hair tie. “Something on your mind?”

In one sweep, Minho ruffled up his own hair with the fabric of the towel “Distracted? No--”

“Listen Minho, I know that I’m not looking the most glamorous right now but you should get your head back in it, I’m barely breaking a sweat.” You shoved him a little with your gloved hand, handing out a teasing grin.

Your partner bounced a little in place, shaking out his limbs. “Alright...”

Any other day, it would have been Minho who had you stumbling down to the mat, breathless and muscles aching. It was always a mystery to you where he got his stamina from when he was in the ring with you. Outside of the ring, no one could have ever guessed that boxing was his pastime--the giveaway was his knuckles: they were nearly always bruised.

You had met Minho and the rest of your friends nearly a year ago when you joined the gym, just looking for something new to try. Seeing as you and Minho were nearly the same size, it made sense for the two of you to be partners. Even though he was quiet around you, he would always put up a fight. Beating him for once was exciting. When you were the one standing, it felt good, admittedly. The little rush to your head when his body hit the floor was too exciting to ignore. You could really get used to the way that he would stare back up at you, lip quivering just slightly and his abs seizing under his shirt. It was cute almost, you had thought, when you saw the way that his expression would soften underneath you.

Jeongin waved you over to strap your head gear back on with a tiny cringe. “As your friend, I’m gonna tell you that you stink...rather than not saying anything about it.”

Your gloved hand mimed a punch to his face. “Thanks for the info. I’m hitting the showers after this.”

The rest of your little group gathered near to the edge of the ring, towel drying themselves of their own sweat and shadow boxing the air around their fists.

“I’ve been watching from over there...damn Y/n…” Changbin sauntered up, throwing his jump rope over his shoulder. “You’re really improving.”

“I had a good teacher, handsome.” You clicked out a little salute to him.

“Ahhh, stop flattering me.”

“Let’s start.” Minho butted in while he popped in his mouth guard.

“Hands up!” Seungmin called.

The burning of your hamstrings had told you that you were nearing your limit for the day, but nothing felt better than chasing your victory over him once more. In his eyes, he held a darker kind of confidence this time: it clouded his eyes which narrowed. When he would focus, Minho seemed to inspect every single part of your body like he was planning exactly where he wanted to hit first. His eyes would dance around your frame for just a few seconds, then he would know your first move.

Want me to go easy on you this time? You jested under the plastic of your mouth guard.

His right fist hooked directly at you before you had registered it, colliding right with the foam of your headgear. He had hit you with such a force that it felt as if he had shook your eyes, blurring your vision.

“Hands!” Changbin growled from the sidelines, and you did as you were told.

In a couple ways, boxing was like dancing, except you were trying not to get all wrapped up in your partner’s arms. The goal was to prevent him from touching you, so your feet would bounce and skip around him in circles, never letting his steps dominate you. With every twist of your bodies, they would interact with the other, it was all give and take. Perhaps like dancing, the tension between you was tangible, but instead of harmony, there was a dissonance.

Minho swung at you to your right, and you bobbed your head in response. As you chased him back, the plastic blue under your feet would crinkle. Your hands never left the cover of your face only until the few milliseconds when you would make a swing of your own. Had he bopped a second too late, you would have given him proper payback for how hard he had punched at your face.

Seungmin barked out more combos for the two of you to battle in attempting first. It really was like the perfect dance: every time that one of you would swing, the other would float around it.

“Get a hit in! Quit playing with him!” Changbin chuckled from the sidelines.

“Minho! Come on!” Hyunjin spurred his friend on.

As he would, Minho’s curious eyes focused back down on you again, scattering around while he calculated out some kind of invisible equation as he inched you toward the edge of the ring.

“Slip! Slip!” Changbin grabbed onto the bouncing ropes of the ring and Minho hooked into your side.

You twirled your body out past him, letting his punches meet the side of the ring. Your motion had caught him off guard once you had escaped his attempt to pin you.

Now he was the one that was pinned.

In his excitement, Changbin bounced up and down, “JAB JAB!!”

Minho’s focus faded after you had squatted and carried out your swing to his side, and another to his arms covering his face.

“Your stance! Minho!” Seungmin gasped as Minho tripped himself to the ground.

The rest of the group leapt into the air, hollering into the echoey and concrete space.

Minho’s body hit the ground with a thud. His gloved hands became clumsy as he tried to brace himself, and his face was cleanly met with the blue mat.

Your victory was short lived once you saw the way that his eyes wrinkled upon his fall.

“You okay?”

“--Fine.” His words winced through his teeth. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Jeongin bunny hopped into the ring to undress the velcro of your gloves and headgear.

“Don’t lie to me Minho, you can’t lie about these kinds of things.”

“I said that I’m fine.”

Your free hands helped him to his feet. “Have Chan look you over ‘kay? I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to hit that hard...”

Minho shook out his wetted hair once he was free of his headgear. “Stop apologizing. I’m gonna head to the showers.”

Without another word, he slipped under the ropes, hunched a little as he tossed his tape away.

Hyunjin handed you your water which you took thankful gulps of. “Do you think that he’s mad at me?”

“No. It’s not your fault.”

“My fault?”

Hyunjin shrugged with a little smirk. “He’s doing it to himself.”

“Doing what??”

“Boxing knock all the logic out of you? Are you seeing okay?” Hyunjin waved his hand in front of your eyes.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Ahhhh Y/n...silly little Y/n. How many times do I need to tell you?”

“No...this isn’t about that again is it?”

You guzzled down more water and were just a little tempted to flick some of it over on Hyunjin’s unrealistically gorgeous face. Anything but this again.

Changbin threw a white towel at you. “It’s honestly comical at this point.”

“Not you too.” You rolled your eyes.

“He’s literally fucking falling over himself for you and you still don’t see it.”

“I’m not seeing anything because there isn’t anything to see.”

“I can’t believe you.” Changbin and Hyunjin exchanged equally unimpressed eyerolls.

“You said it yourself ‘Bin, I’m getting better. All this practice and I can finally beat him. Why aren't you celebrating with me Mr. “I’m-The-Best-Boxing-Teacher-You-Will-Ever-Meet-Or-Know?” If, if he’s got a thing for me, why hasn’t he said anything?”

Changbin sighed out. “I don’t know, I don’t know how the hell he works. No one really does. He isn’t really the sharing type.”

“You ask him.” Hyunjin announced point blank. “If you’re so skeptical, ask him.”

An unwanted heat assaulted your cheeks. “I’m not--”

“--Oh my god, are you scared to ask? ~Mmm-how unlike you~” Hyunjin patted your head like you were a little dog. His eyes widened. “Are you saying that you feel--”

“--You know what! I’m going to hit the showers too. I’m a mess. Don’t hang around.”

“It never hurts to ask!” Hyunjin called after you, giggling a little in his own teasing way.

“There’s nothing to ask!”

(( ))

“Lock up when you’re done!” Chan’s voice rang through the empty hall of the gym, flicking off a couple lights behind him.

The green-white fluorescent lights above you buzzed with an insect-like ring and flickered every view seconds. Up high on the concrete walls, opened horizontal windows were cracked, letting in the humidity of the summer night, and carried in the sound of crickets singing their nighttime ode. The dark corners of the room seemed perilous compared to the single ring that was lit just for the two of you.

“Minho, I’m exhausted, how much longer do you plan on staying?” Your punch mitts fell to your sides.

“Just a little while longer. I’ve just felt...kinda out of it this week. I could use the extra practice.” His eyes shied, “I appreciate you staying after.”

“Let's just get this over with.” You raised your mitts in front of your face, holding your ground.

Minho huffed out a determined breath, then swung at them with all his might. The sound of the tight fabric patted through the room. His eyes didn’t meet yours for several minutes, his pure focus on each carry though of his arms sent little shock waves to your wrists. Time ticked past on the particularly loud clock nailed to the walls and caged in a little metal grid.

Rather than striking up a conversation like you would, Hyunjin’s voice taunted over and over in your mind like a curse.

“It never hurts to ask!”

Minho stepped back, catching his breath. “I think I’m good now.”

“Great!” You snapped your thoughts back to the moment. “I’m gonna wash off before I head out...you?”

“Probably. The water at my place as been fucking freezing lately, I swear that my landlord is a criminal.”

“Oh...sorry about that.”

“ ‘t’s fine. I’m talking with him tomorrow.”

“I’ll head in with you then…”

(( ))

Chan’s gym had a propensity for having facilities that were usually slightly off-- the automatic lights being one of them. If it wasn’t for more of the high-set windows, it would have been pitch black in the locker room, but the nearly full waxing moon filled the whole room with brilliant silver light. Among the metal of the lockers and the porcelain sinks, the room seemed to be bathed in a bluish tint.

“He’s really gotta get the lights fixed.” You said aloud, merely just trying to say anything to fill the quiet of the room.

“Add it to the list.” Minho breathed out a snicker. “That fourth sink hasn’t worked in weeks.”

“Really?”

The two of you had made some sort of unspoken rule being in the room together: backs turned, not daring to look at the other while you undressed, somehow it seemed like the respectful thing to do. The cold tiles met your bare feet, and your damp skin met the cool air. Suddenly the warmth of the shower sounded like the most enticing thing you could imagine.

Minho’s presence behind you intrigued you sneakily, thoughts pervaded your mind that you hadn’t expected.

Hyunjin had almost asked you if you had feelings for Minho. What would you have said?

You pulled your towel over your body, tucking it in place. “I...I wanted to apologize for the other day. I got too cocky. I shouldn’t have jabbed you that hard, and on your side. That wasn’t...fair of me.”

“I said before, drop it.”

You turned, and the sight of him nearly startled you. You had never totally imagined what he looked like under those white shirts that would cling to his sweating body, but it was nothing like this.

Minho’s back was magnificently sculpted and his shoulder blades curved and poked out from under his skin almost a bit like wings. The curve of his spine traced down his back in a perfect line, and it arched a little as he twisted his body around. Two little dimples peppered right above his waist. Close to his ribs, a little purple mark faded into the pale of his skin.

“I-is that…”

You advanced closer. In the blue light of the room, your eyes couldn’t make out what it was, but you suspicion twisted knots into your stomach.

Minho jumped a little seeing how close you had drawn to him after not hearing your silent footsteps.

“Is that...a bruise? Did I bruise you?”

Panic set in Minho’s eyes. “--No! No, that’s from a couple weeks or so ago, some stupid accident, I can’t really remember.”

“...Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He nodded.

“Well...if you’re lying, I’ll--”

“--What, punch me again like that?”

Minho’s smiling eyes crinkled up slightly and you felt yourself met lightly into them: his smile was something that you knew you had always found to be adorable. Seeing him like this brought memories of him on the mat, flat on his back, those same eyes looking up at you in his awe.

“Haha. Funny. No, I won’t hit you.”

“Good. That did hurt though.”

“...sorry.”

Water dripped from a sink somewhere, and Miho’s hand lingered on his locker door.

“I haven’t hurt you before...have I?”

“You?” In your confusion, your brows scrunched together. “Not that I can remember I think. I know that it looks really dramatic when I fall but--”

“--I don’t want to hurt you either, you know right?”

“It’s just boxing, Minho, it’s not too serious, I know that you’re not like, out to get me or whatever.”

Under the silver-blue moonlight, Minho’s pale skin seemed illuminated. “Hmm.” He sighed.

When he faced you, you could see his pronounced collarbones and the way that his arms stretched out the muscles underneath. Never would you have imagined him to look this breathtaking. You chalked it up to being tired, but creeping little thoughts wove around your brain, whispering tantalizing ideas.

Silently, you wondered what he would feel like under the touch of your fingers. Every single curve of his body you wanted to trace, just to see where they would lead. You hadn’t noticed, but Minho had watched you as your eyes journeyed over him, just as his eyes had done countless times to you before.

You held his eyes tentatively with Hyunjin’s words on your tongue. “Minho, can I ask--”

Minho’s answer was hastily given to you in the form of him clambering his lips into yours while he drew you into his bare chest; he was much warmer than had imagined. There was something frighteningly intimate about the both of you meeting in a tangle of skin and lips; the heat of his chest and yours mixing. He had kissed you so suddenly that you seemed to stumble over your own lips deciding if you wanted to kiss him back. While he was needy, the way in which he ran his lips over yours was more caring than fleeting and impulsive. He knew exactly what he was doing as he gave into the magnetism drawing him into you.

Your partner’s hands cascaded down your back, drawing little squiggles down your spine, causing your legs to buckle slightly. He flooded your mouth with his kisses, each one more searing than the last, each one desperate to tell you what his words couldn’t. At last, you let your shocked body return to him, kissing him back. The moment that you did so, he shuddered into you, clawing lightly at your back. The tiniest “oh” from his lips moaned into your mouth and he shifted to tangle his hands up close to your scalp, drawing you even nearer to him.

He murmured onto you, “I can’t tell you how long I’ve had to hold myself back.”

It was the slick of his tongue running over your bottom lip that sent you spiraling for him. Just as you had wanted, you let your hands traverse all around his chest and his back, following the lines in his body as if they were a treasure trail to something that you could barely comprehend. Your touches on his skin turned his breaths into unsteady little whimpers that traipsed in between your mixing of lips and heated exhales.

“Mm-please...come with me?”

(( ))

Condensation had gathered heavily upon the deep green tiles of the shower wall while it too dissipated up into the air of the dimly lit bathroom. Swirls of the white wisps entangled around you and you breathed them heavily into your lungs. Under the warmth of the water, your body felt perfectly at ease: your aching muscles too revealed in the feeling that the heat brought, and Minho’s kneading hands worked at every knot in your body while he touched everywhere he could...as if he was starving for it. Handfuls of your skin filled up his greedy palms.

“You’re so beautiful. Everything about you...I’ve always wanted to tell you…” Minho kissed down your neck lapping at your nerves and disrupting the trailing of water down your body. “You-you make it so hard for me.”

“Hard to do what?”

“You’re irresistible.”

Minho’s words escaped from his lips like fresh honey while you were left to melt under them. After being so quiet around you, you felt yourself a fool to have ignored everything that was in front of you; and for being as stubborn as you were.

Further down your body, Minho let his hands fall down your own chest, ghosting his fingers over your nippes. The softest touches from his hands made your buds harden instantly, and your arousal pooled obviously within your sex. To steady yourself, you had thrown your arms over his shoulders and scratched at the combination of water and strings of muscles on his back.

“I-I should have listened, Minho...I’m-mm-so sorry.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” He broke for a moment to catch your gaze. “Can I show you? Can I show you how much you drive me absolutely crazy?”

Minho coupled his words with the scrape of his nails down your arms. Every touch that he gave you was needy and testing. You set yourself giddy a bit thinking of how he must have imagined this very moment countless times.

Your hot breath tickled the wet skin of his neck where you returned his kisses. “You can do whatever you want.”

With your permission, Minho’s body appeared to tighten. Where he had pinned you against the wall, his painfully hard member dripped out his eager pre-cum, and throbbed against your belly. Your mind ran free thinking of the ways that you would show him attention as well.

“Mm-tell me to stop and I will, okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

Minho let his kisses waterfall next to the flowing water down your skin farther and farther until he had hovered over your own sex which had grown painfully swollen waiting for his touch.

In the silver moonlight, Minho’s brown eyes glistened while he looked up at you, teasing you with his tongue, never granting you the full satisfaction. The corners of his mouth curled into a smile seeing how you reacted to his agonizingly slow lapping.

“~Y/n~” He sang, “You taste so good.”

“More…” You pathetically pleaded. “Stop-stop teasing me...Minho.”

He did as he was told, granting you more of his mouth, and sucking steadily and purposefully as you grinded into his mouth for even more. Minho reached behind you to grab out handfuls of your ass in his hands, lovingly kneading the skin at the same time. Water droplets had showered over his face, and strung together his eyelashes in a way that you could have sworn made them look as if they sparkled.

Before your orgasm hit, you demanded of him, “Come up here.” The way that his dick had twitched while he had sucked on you was becoming too hard for you to ignore.

With your finger tracing along his jaw, you kissed into his mouth, “My turn.”

The tiles were a bit hard on your knees, but after you had swung his beautifully thick thigh over your shoulder, nothing mattered as you had found your perfect angle.

You have him sloppy kisses all along his length and bit into his thighs, indulging in him, pulling at the skin where he was much more sensitive than you had expected. While it was contradictory, you gave him as many hickies as you could on the skin of his milky inner thighs. The purple love bites were gorgeous on his shaking legs.

“oh god.” He moaned out.

Your tongue teased him for a little while longer, then his hands told you what they wanted you to do. He had braided his fingers deep into your strands, and pulled your lips up to meet with his tip.

“God, I want you so bad, please, y/n.”

Just as how you had felt when he was at your mercy on the mat, he was all yours now: yours to take apart, yours to put back together.

“Needy baby.” You cooed into his leaking slit. “That bad?”

“Are you going to make me beg more?”

“Maybe I like it?” Your wrist jerked at him at last.

“Please give me your mouth, I can’t wait any longer.”

“Cute.”

Upon fully taking him in, Minho gasped out so sharply and loudly, it even surprised you. Never had someone been so needy for you, it was intoxicating. You took him in gradually deeper and deeper, pushing down your throat. All around you, the showering water coated you in an ocean of comfort; it trailed down your hair and fell down the sides of your face and your arms, no place was untouched.

Minho’s pruned fingers dug into your shoulders, “get up--fuck--”

At first, his fingers entered you, teasing your hole. Your stringy slick mixed with the water clinging to his fingers. The orgasm that he had once started within you pooled heavily and tightened at your core.

“Show me Minho, give it to me.”

He instructed you by picking you up into his arms, then pinned you against the tiled walls, back flat against the cool stone. His fingers dug into your ass, aligning you over his dick. It took all of your strength to wrap your arms and legs around him, but he held you back with ease.

“I-I’m not too heavy?”

“No. Not at all, you’re perfect for me. All of you.”

Together, you shivered at the feeling of connection once he had entered you, instinctually finding each other's lips between the water.

Minho’s thrusts started out slow and careful, planned almost. He was intentional in the way he reached as deep inside you as he could and listened to every response of your body.

“Mm...keep going,” you panted, “like that. ‘Feels so, so good.”

Time faded into non-existence this way with Minho dragging his hips in and out of you with a tantalizing speed. More than anything, it was the closeness that you felt taking him in so wholly, feeling every inch of his length. Each time that he grazed you deep, you sunk deeper into him, becoming weaker and weaker in his arms.

“I’m so close. Can I cum?” Minho’s brown glistening eyes pleaded to you.

You nodded eagerly, and it was if a switch had flipped inside him. All at once, he shoved your body harder into the wall, screwing you into it. His arms flexed where he held you, and his chest flushed red as he neared his release. When he did, his face was near euphoric as he milked himself completely into you, reaching one hand down to give your sex more attention, using his thumb to apply pressure.

When you reached your release, you could only helplessly convulse in his arms, thighs quivering against his hips.

Minho cradled you as you came down, smoothing the top of your head, then eventually helping you stand on your own. “You okay?” He took both sides of your face gently in his palms. “By the way, what is that you were gonna ask me earlier? Sorry…”He bashfully grinned at you. “I had other things on my mind.”

You took his face in your hands too, firstly brushing over the little mole on his nose, then delighting in the soft hairs of his cheeks.

“It’s okay. I got my answer.”

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songsforthepierce · 2 years ago

Text

Album Showcase: Dog Police - Dog Police

Okay so with some of the music posts there will be two different types I do. The first type which is this one is more of an overlook to a review of sorts on an album. The format will go in the order of how I found the album/band, a little bit of history of said band/musician/album, talking about the album cover, talking about the tracks on the cover, and then more of an overview of what songs I recommend to if I recommend the whole album. All right lets go.

So how I found out about Dog Police was back in 2016 when Todd in the Shadows reviewed Wall of Voodoo’s song Mexican Radio. In the video he mentioned Dog Police and showed a bit of the music video. I was fascinated and checked it out. I tried looking on info about the band at the time but the information was barely anything. Except I found their album and bought it.

So at the time when I found the song info on the band was scarce. The most I was able to find was they had a music video on MTV in 1983, it was a three member band, and the Amazon listing of their album states the album Dog Police was released in 2009. But this was back in 2016, over time info on said band has increased but is still limited. The band Dog Police was a side project of the Tony Thomas Trio. In 1982 is when they published the album Dog Police though in 2019 the album was re-released on vinyl and digitally which included two bonus tracks. I will go a bit further on other info on the band later when we get to the tracks.

Sorry for the quality of the picture of the album cover but this was the best I could find. I will say the cover art is quaint. I do like the toon style of the anthro dogs. It is a nice touch the titular dog police look different to one another compared to the music video. The cover is really emphasizing on the whole Dog Police part of the album while it hints at the last track outside the doorway, Our Bomb. The picture of the live action Dog Police with kiss marks is based on the actual album cover of the 1982 album under the same name (minus the kisses). I don’t have really much else to say on the album cover so we’ll move onto the music

Track 1: Dog Police

The first track of the album which is the hit song itself. Interesting thing is that the album version of the song is slightly different than the music video one. In the music video there is a build up which sets up for an odd atmosphere before the barking starts. While the album just starts straight away to the song. I wished the album did have the small instrumental build up since I felt like that really added to the song. The plot of the song is simple of a guy goes on a date with a dog lady and during said date she gets arrested by said dog police. That’s it really. However the common lyrics in the song is about the dog police themselves and how no one knows who they are. Which yeah, years ago when I found out about the song there was little to no info on the band itself and further there was even less info on the characters. Only more recently did I find out that in 1990 there was an 8 minute pilot shot for Dog Police where it is revealed that they are from outer space. Oh and they have ESP, can run 50 miles an hour, and they can hear conversations from two miles away. Which okay sure why not. The pilot was never aired nor picked up which is sad to here. I would have loved to watch this even if it wasn’t going to be great. But anyway back to the song, the song itself is super catchy and has a fun energy to it. Though it being the first song on the album is concerning since I have heard music people talk about that you don’t want the first song of the album to be the hit one since that can make people disappointed to the rest of the album if it doesn’t live up to the first song. But hey, I want to keep an open mind so what are the rest of their songs like?

Track 2: Are You Middle Class Enough?

Uh okay, so this song is about well...being middle class. Such as having designer jeans, a water bed, having a swimming pool, and basically having a mostly easy life. The song doesn’t stick much out to me on its own. The only reason I remember it is because it comes RIGHT AFTER Dog Police which is such a genuine jam. So the transition to that to this is just bizarre. I guess it is an okay song. But again, doesn’t stick out.

Track 3: In the Studio

This song is more instrumental focused and doesn’t really have much going for it lyrics wise. Well besides saying “In the Studio” here and there. The song does have a nice sound but I don’t have strong feelings for it.

Track 4: Hamburgers

I am genuinely baffled by this song. This weird dream-feel circus sounding song about ordering hamburgers. It is just bizarre. I can’t pin down how I feel about this song besides it purely exists.

Track 5: I’m Butch

Okay, so when I first listened to this song some years back I was trying to pick apart the tone of this. Like “Is this lesbophobic? Is this transphobic?” because the lyrics is about this butch woman being masculine. But one of the lyrics is “ Saving my money for my operation (operation!)” So...like the implication of a woman being so manly she must secretly desire to be a man?? Look, I don’t know. Even now I don’t fully know the intent behind the song. Like, I know it was made in the early 80s so it being not 100% positive* (*???) about queer people isn’t shocking. But I guess because it just...being there. Not overt nor subtle, just plopped in front of me I am just not sure how to really take the song. Though I will say it is my least favorite song on the album. If it wasn’t for that, I would still rank it low for the instrumentals not being great either.

Track 6: Positive Reinforcement

Uh, this is a track. I get it is meant to be a joke that the lyrics are sad while the title is ironic but it just kind of there. The instrumentals are there and the lyrics are sparse. I would not listen to it regularly but I don’t mind it.

Track 7: Happy

A simple song but I do like the robotic voice they use and how they do the lyric formatting with trying to start a sentence but repeating the sentence each time while adding another word. As I stated, it is simple but it at least has something going for it.

Track 8: Music

A song about music. I have even less to say about this besides that uh...it sounds okay? Like it isn’t bad but it isn’t great either. I am noticing a lot of their songs on the album just don’t stick to me since afterwards I just forget a lot of these songs exist.

Track 9: 1-800

FINALLY, another good song on this album. Now yes I still prefer Dog Police BUT this song has something the other songs don’t really have which is a fun energy. The song is about ordering a bunch of shit you don’t need and how “great” it is. This song is actually better with music video because you see the lead singer having so much fun with all the objects he orders and the use of visuals with calling the 1-800 numbers. I really dig how they used the dial number noises for the song to make a fun rhythm. This song has weirdly aged well with how the 1-800 culture has evolved to online shopping with ads for items that claim you need when in actuality it is not worth getting.

Track 10: Reproduce

Okay, the instrumentals and rhythm in this song is energetic which I really like. Took like what? Past halfway through the album to get some more fun songs again after Dog Police? Anyway, this song is about sex. Asking what our purpose is and just going “Well to reproduce I guess”. But I think my absolute favorite part of the song is the ending where the last lyric is asking about “who are the dog police?” A nice little call back to the first song. Okay so we got two other great songs on here. Hopefully the next is pretty good as well

Track 11: Doggie Fashion

I get this feeling this song is in some way connected to the first song, Dog Police, or at the very least the world of Dog Police where there are weird humanoid anthro dog alien people living alongside humans. It is a fine song I guess. The instrumentals are soft but a bit groovy. It does stand out better than the other songs I considered okay but that is it.

Track 12: F & B Man

Okay, this is a fun little funky song. It is about this F & B Man who...I don’t fully know what he does actually. He works at a restaurant? Maybe unless that is a metaphor. I don’t know. But basing on these lines,

“He's cracking that whip night and day Makes no difference straight or gay Got those waiters on their toes”

I’ll let you guys decide what this song is about.

Track 13: Our Bomb

The last song of the album. It is about the nuclear bombs the US have and how our government is willing to use it on anyone no matter who they are. I guess would could take it as a critique of nuclear bombs which like I would hope it is a more dark humor critique of such. But that is the best I can take from it. I will say I really like the instrumentals of the song a lot and how it fits with the darker subject.

Listening to the whole album I have mixed emotions about it. On the one hand there are some really good songs on here such as Dog Police, Happy, 1-800, Reproduce, Doggie Fashion, F & B Man, and Our Bomb. But the rest of the songs are just okay to I don’t really get much out of. That and the rest of the good songs come near the end of the album which if one was listening to the whole album isn’t the most fun experience. I find it so weird that Dog Police, one of their best songs, is first and they didn’t just put the rest of the better songs after Dog Police and have the later half be their not so great songs. That are spread it out better. Do I recommend this album? Well the songs I said are good I do recommend but I am not sure if I can really say that I recommend buying the whole album. I mean, you can if you want to but if I knew at the time what most of the songs would be like, I would have just gotten the select songs I liked and leave the rest behind.

#Dog Police #Music #album review #reviews #music reviews #Pierce talks #text post #long post

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 years ago

Note

An imagine for adeuce please! They hang out someplace in their hometown during vacation but awkwardly run into crewel. I think treys family bakery would be a nice location but the setting is your choice in case you want to limit the dialogue and number of characters

Ps. I personally feel like the game needs more interactions between the students and teachers. Hopefully we can get more in the new event

Teacher-student interactions are so much fun! We definitely got more from Vargas Camp (which I’m really thankful for), and I hope we keep getting more!

So far, my favorite teacher-student dynamic has been Vargas and Azul. I’d feel bad for octoboi if I wasn’t laughing so hard at his flying fails--

I really liked this prompt, so I wrote more than my usual ~1000 word imagine; please enjoy!

***Mild spoilers for chapter 4!***

Imagine this...

The Rose Kingdom was aptly named for the flowers that bloomed in nearly every corner of its land. In the summer time, they blossomed magnificently, perfuming the warm air with their heady aroma—but in the winter, those delicate rosebuds were banished by a spell of frost. Without fail, a great cold would wash over the region every year, casting their famous red flowers in a thick layer of white.

It was a pattern that the kingdom’s residents had long since grown accustomed to. This was, after all, their beloved home—amid the roses, frozen as they were.

“Oi, Deuce! Hurry it up, will you?!” Ace called, tossing an annoyed glance over his shoulder.

His friend—wearing so many layers that he resembled a moving blueberry more than a human—lagged several paces behind.

Deuce attempted to return the sass, but his words caught in the scarf bound tightly around his mouth, coming out muffled instead. The puffball on his winter hat furiously bobbed up and down, as though communicating his frustration for him.

“If we don’t pick up the pace, they’re gonna sell out of hot chocolate and fresh pastries!” Ace rushed back, grabbed Deuce by the arm, and tugged. “C’mon!! I thought you were in Track and Field Club or something—so let’s get moving!”

Deuce loosened his scarf with his free hand and, glaring at Ace, declared, “No way am I running with the roads this icy. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Hah? You serious? I already got wasted enough time waiting for you to dress in your 101 layers of coats,” Ace grumped, gesturing to Deuce’s ridiculous outfit. “It can’t hurt to be a little quicker about it.”

“Mom wanted me to stay warm,” Deuce countered stiffly. “I’m gonna respect that, no matter what.”

Ace rolled his eyes and waves dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, whatever—enough talk, we really gotta get going...!! I’ll be damned if I freeze out here.”

“The Clover Bakery isn’t that far from here, so we don’t need to rush.” Deuce indicated a warm building at the end of the block, which gave off delicious fumes—spun sugar, baked bread, and spices. “Slow and steady wins the race.”

Ace groaned loudly. At this rate, it would take all day for them to waddle on over. He was about to bury his head in his hands when an idea dawned on him.

A mean, but clever, idea.

“Betcha I could make it there faster than you,” Ace chirped, his voice casual.

“It’s not a competition,” Deuce reminded him sternly.

“No one said it was, dummy! I’m just saying I could definitely beat you at your own game.”

“Tough words for someone shaking like a leaf in the cold.”

“Oh yeah?” Ace’s grin was wicked. “Prove me wrong, then.”

“I don’’t have to prove anything. It’d be dangerous to run in this weather, anyway.”

“I bet it’s way more snowy in Pyroxene—and Jack’s probably totally fine with running through it!”

“That’s Jack, and this is me. I said I wasn’t going to rush things, and I meant it.”

“Yeah? Too bad~” The redhead gave an exaggerated sigh and a shrug. “Backing out, huh...? Oh well. Guess if you snooze, you lose...!!”

“Hey, I never said...” Deuce’s voice trailed off, for Ace had shoved by him, darting off in the direction of the bakery. “H-Hey...!! Ace...!! ACE!! GET BACK HERE!!”

He tore after his friend, shouting at him all the while—and Ace, with his (cheating) head start, only laughed in return. Deuce soon caught up (no thanks to his club conditioning), and they were neck-and-neck for first place.

Windchill, knives upon their faces. The biting cold seeped into their lungs, making it hurt to breathe as they hurtled toward their destination. Yet they sailed on, determined to outdo the other.

Both boys launched themselves at the bakery entrance, grasping the handle at the same time.

“EXCUSE US!!” Ace and Deuce yelled in unison, yanking open the door (struggling to cram through the doorway at the same time) and stumbling in.

They were greeted by a blast of warmth and the smells of sweet cakes and toasted breads. The employee manning the counter glanced up, startled at the duo’s sudden appearance. When he saw who it was that had barged in, he sighed and calmly readjusted his glasses.

He looked a little different than usual, wearing a white shirt with green plaid that showed off his broad shoulders. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal thick forearms forged from years of lifting flour sacks and kneading dough. A brown apron was slung over his attire, four-leafed clovers sewn on the pockets.

“If it isn’t Ace and Deuce. How are the two troublemakers of Heartslabyul doing?” Trey asked, his smile lopsided as his underclassmen approached.

“A-Are we really troublemakers in your eyes, Clover-senpai?!”

“I’m just kidding,” he reassured Deuce. “Well, you are troublemakers, but more for Riddle than for me.”

“Geez... thanks for the vote of confidence...” Ace grumbled, casting the third year a cheeky look. “Some senpai you are, huh?”

“Now, now... I’m allowed to have some fun, aren’t I? We’re all ‘off-duty’, so to speak.” Trey said light heartedly. “Anyway, what brings you guys to the Clover Bakery? I’m assuming you’re not dropping by just to say hello.”

“Hehe. Obviously we’re hungry, so we came by for some grub!” Ace held up his index finger. “One large hot chocolate, and a plate of assorted butter cookies for me!”

“I’m okay with a small spiced apple cider,” Deuce chimed in, “please and thank you.”

“Gotcha. I’ll get you your drinks in a bit,” Trey nodded, “but as for the butter cookies, I’m afraid I won’t be able to sell those to you.”

“Huh?” Ace’s face collapsed. “Why not?”

“We’ve only got a few dozen left, and they’re reserved for a client that preordered them. Sorry.” Trey pointed to a neatly wrapped box already set upon the counter, done up in a bright green bow.

Through the plastic window in the box, Ace could see that the cookies had been converted into little sandwiches. Each pair housed a generous dollop of cream, caramelized raisins threaded throughout it.

“What? Who needs that many butter cookies? And why are there gross raisins in them--“

The door to the bakery flung open, summoning a gale of cold once more. A bell suspended above jingled, ringing in a new customer.

“Ah, speak of deville the devil,” Trey said—while his underclassmen balked in terror.

There, in the doorway, was a tall man in black faux leather gloves and a voluminous fur coat—striped, black and white. Beneath that, he boasted a crimson turtle neck and a blazer, half solid white, the other half a black , checkerboard pattern. This, paired with his slicked back hair, steely eyes, and regal face, made him appear as though he had just strutted off the runway, were it not for the leashes he gripped.

Two Dalmatians—one in a blue coat, the other in a red one—stood alert by his feet. They caught Ace and Deuce’s eyes and barked in greeting, but the two boys were far too fixated on the Dalmatians’ owner to gush over dogs.

“Crewel...”

“... Sensei?”

Ace and Deuce glanced to one another, then back at their Alchemy teacher.

“C-CREWEL-SENSEI?!”

“Wh-What’re you doing here?!” Ace demanded, pointing an accusatory finger. “School’s out for winter break...!! You... You didn’t hunt us down to make us do our homework, did you?!”

Crewel snorted. “Spare me your theatrics, Trappola. Your instructors are granted a vacation for the duration of winter break as well. Were you not aware?”

“I-I knew that! I just didn’t know you lived in the Rose Kingdom, too!”

“I thought teachers lived at school...”

“... Seriously, Deuce?!”

“The more you know.” Crewel narrowed his eyes at Ace. “But speaking of homework, I trust you pups are keeping on top of your assignments? Being on break is no excuse to slack on your studies.”

“D-Duh! Of course I haven’t been slacking!” A lie, Ace grimaced, thinking to the piles of homework he had abandoned in his bedroom in favor of hanging out with friends. Whatever, he could just pester his brother for help later. “Right, Deuce? Back me up here!”

“I’ve been diligently studying and working on my homework bit by bit every day, Crewel-sensei!”

“... But have you done it accurately?” Crewel asked, raising an eyebrow. “Simply writing down an answer does not guarantee full marks, Spade.”

“... Errrrrr, okay, maybe I need to work on it a little more.”

“You’ve got your notes and a reliable Science Club member to count on for assistance,” Crewel quipped, gesturing to Trey with a gloved hand. “There is no excuse for why you should not do well. That goes for you as well, Trappola.”

“Y-Yessir!”

“Crewel-sensei, I think that’s enough interrogation,” Trey called, waving for him to come to the counter. Outwardly, he wore a smile, but inwardly, he sighed. For the love of the Great Seven, don’t offer my help for me. “Here, I have your order prepared--oh, but be sure to keep your dogs at the doorway. No pets allowed beyond a certain threshold for health and safety reasons.”

“I am aware, yes.” Crewel’s eyes passed over to the two scared stiff underclassmen. “... Trappola, Spade--come here. Do your professor a favor and tend to my Dalmatians for me.”

“What? You want us to watch your dogs?”

“I’ll do my best, Sensei!!”

“Don’t just blindly agree to it, Deuce!”

“It will only be for a moment,” Crewel insisted, shoving his leashes into Ace and Deuce’s hands. The boys fumbled, but held firm--the Dalmatians eagerly staring up at them.

“... Oi, don’t give me those looks,” Ace grumbled. “You’re... You’re too cute looking and innocent to be Crewel-sensei’s pets.”

The dog in the red coat gave a happy bark, as if pleased with the compliment. Its partner, in the blue coat, panted with delight as Deuce gave it a firm head pat.

Crewel received the box of raisin butter cookies--but allowed his eyes to quickly a scan the glass display case as he strode up. “Do you have dog treats in stock as well?”

“We do.”

“Then add two to my total, please--peanut butter flavor.”

“Alright, you’ve got it.” Trey ducked, retrieved a pair of tongs, and fished out two bone-shaped biscuits. He dropped them into a paper bag and handed them over to his teacher. “That’ll be--”

He was cut off by several bills being fanned out on the counter.

“I’ve ordered enough from your bakery to know the general prices,” Crewel smirked, tucking his wallet away into his massive fur coat. “If there is a discrepancy, you may keep the change.”

“Ah, thanks for that. Hope you and the dogs enjoy--” Trey paused, cut off this time by the sound of several small footsteps from the back room of the bakery. He groaned, already knowing what was coming. “Oh no...”

“Trey-nii!!” A chorus of high-pitched voices piped up, startling Ace and Deuce. “We heard bark-barks!! Did Mr. Fluffy Coat bring back his doggies?”

Three heads of green hair poked above the counter--just barely. One girl and two boys, probably elementary school age, all of them sharing Trey’s mustard yellow eyes.

“Guys, not now. Big bro’s busy with the customers,” Trey warned. He passed an apologetic look to his underclassmen and teacher. “Sorry, my siblings are excitable sometimes.”

“I wanna pet the doggies!”

“I wanna feed’m snackies!”

“I wanna dress them up!”

To the boys’ surprise, Crewel merely chuckled. “No worries. Fellow canine lovers are always welcome.”

“Mr. Fluffy Coat!! Can we feed your doggies?”

“Pretty please with candied violets on top!”

“Please, please, please!!”

Crewel barked with laughter. “Perhaps I can allow it, little ones--permitted that your brother grants his permission.”

All three Clover siblings looked expectantly at their eldest sibling.

Trey heaved a sigh. “... I guess I’ve got no choice. Go ahead.”

Excited squeals filled the interior of the bakery. The Clover siblings nearly tripped over themselves racing over to Crewel’s dogs (they nearly trampled Ace and Deuce’s feet, too).

“Hey, watch it! We’re the ones babysitting these dogs, not you!” Ace cried as the kids descended on the Dalmatians. I’ve only had these dogs for five minutes but if anything happened to them, I’d kill everyone here and then--

“We can share, Ace!”

“Spade is correct. There is plenty of the pups to go around,” Crewel interjected. He produced two dog treats and broke them into smaller pieces, offering them to Ace, Deuce, and the Clover siblings. “Go on, then. One for each of you to feed them.”

The Clovers cheered and eagerly claimed their pieces, holding them out and allowing each Dalmatian to sniff and lick the treats straight out of their palms. As soon as the food was slurped up, the Clovers proceeded to vigorously pet the pups. But the first years hesitated.

“You’re... being awfully nice,” Ace noted, eying him suspiciously. “Are you gonna spring a pop quiz on us as soon as I take the treat?”

“Keep biting the hand that feeds you, and I just might consider it,” Crewel warned with a dark smirk.

“W-We’ll take the treats!” Deuce snatched up two pieces, shoving one into Ace’s hands. “Come on, let’s not worry too much. We’re on winter break, after all. Let’s just relax while we still can.”

“You’re right, you’re right! Let’s not sweat it!”

They exchanged a brief laugh before kneeling and offering up their own dog treat pieces to the Dalmatians. Just as the dogs’ sloppy, wet tongues connected with the boys’ hands, their cell phones went off.

“... Huh? Did you just get a text, Deuce?”

“I think I did. I heard your phone ping too, though. Did you get a text too?”

“I can check. One sec...” With his free hand, Ace fished his phone out of his coat pocket and consulted it. He immediately paled. “Oh, shit.”

(“Hey, language!” Trey shouted--but his protest seemingly went ignored.)

“What’s wrong?” Deuce asked, frowning.

“Check your phone. Check it right now.”

“Is it something seri...” Deuce’s face dropped as soon as he looked at his messages. “Fuck.”

(“I said, language!” Trey tried again, only to be snubbed a second time.)

The distressing text they had received?

SOS SEND HE LP STRAND ED D IN SCAR ABIA CANT GET OUT - Yuu, Grim

Ace and Deuce abruptly stood and bolted toward the exit, much to everyone’s surprise. They paid no mind to the concerned shouts of Trey, nor Crewel, or to the excited barks of Dalmatians no longer held by leashes.

All that remained of where the duo once stood were soggy, half-finished peanut butter dog treats.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Ace Trappola #Deuce Spade #Divus Crewel #Trey Clover #disney twisted wonderland #imagine this #twisted wonderland requests #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #spoilers

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dinogoofy · 3 years ago

Text

Erron black/F! Reader

Old friend.

This one took a little bit, sorry if it's not quite as quality as my other fics!

MAJOR TW for Guns, threats, and Kano being a dick to precious puppies.

You and Erron black had grown up together. Two kids brought closer by horrible lives. Sharing the scraps of food you had with each other. Ranting about awful parents, ranting about school. In your teenage years, you were the one to patch him up after fights. He was the one to beat the shit out of your bullies. The two of you hated that town and everyone in it. You used to think the two of you would stay as thick as thieves forever. Your paths only split when you wanted to live a normal life. Live the peaceful, country way you had seen so many others do, but never grew up with yourself. Erron, however, only wanted money, glory. He wanted to take the back roads and do all the things normal folks wouldn't dare to get his fill.

You didn't understand his choice to be a mercenary, but it wasn't your choice to make for him. Whatever life he wanted to have was good enough for you as long as he made it out of that shitty town. He didn't contact you much. He only really showed up on your doorstep when he was dying and needed someone to patch him up. But at least he was coming to see you, right?

With a sigh you stepped into your little country home, smiling slightly at the immediate sounds of your fur babies running to meet you. A blur of orange fur rushing to thread between your legs and trip you, while your sweet pound mutt waited patiently for you to set your keys on the key rack.

"Hey boys." Chester meowed at you rather loudly, only to take off when you leaned down to pet him. The crazy feline darting under Archie's body as he happily waited for his own pets. It was easy to smile at the warm welcome, immediately a little more relaxed after finally getting home. You stretched at the door, setting your bag down to head into the kitchen.

The first thing you settled on was giving your boys their long-awaited scoops of food, both of them sat down neatly next to each other. Only Archie waited for your go-ahead, Chester already digging in by the time you gave him a laughing "Ok, Archie."

You patted your mutt before taking some leftovers out, eyes catching on the printed photo of you and Erron from senior year. It's been a few months since last he came to visit. The thought made you a little sad. But the memory of the photo gave you a nostalgic, happy feeling. With an arm slung around his shoulders, and a goofy look on your face, Erron was the complete opposite of you. The goof pretended to be annoyed at your antics, but you could see the slight smile at the corner of his lips.

"Come on! Just one photo. It's not like it's going to kill you, Erron."

"It's not going to kill me, no. But I might end up killing you."

"Pfft- yeah right."

Your smile grew a bit wider. You sat down at the table alone as you finished your dinner. Erron had always been a strange one. Always tough, trying to be unfeeling. Not wanting anyone to be close. Not wanting any affection besides the one-night stands and the women he infatuated. Always the one to flirt, but never with you.

No. Not ever with you. You smirked. He always acted differently around you. More nervous, more fidgety. You'd been in love with him since before you even knew what love truly was. And you had known for years that he loved you back. You had just been waiting for him to admit it. You'd scoffed at yourself time and time again for not making the first move, but Erron wasn't ready for that. You didn't think he was, at least. You just wished he had gotten therapy like you had asked him to.

The scraping of your fork against your plate was your only indication that you had finished eating, you definitely spaced out a bit. You always did when you thought of Erron. Maybe he would visit soon. Maybe you should stop thinking that to make yourself feel better.

The plate clicked lightly against the floor when you set it down for Archie to lick before you set it in the sink. By the time you turned off all the lights and headed to bed Chester was already asleep on your pillow, Archie curled up in his own bed next to the nightstand. You moved the orange tabby slightly to the side so you could lay down, and he yelled in protest the way that annoyed kitties do. It was easy to slip into a comfortable sleep with your boys next to you.

The sound of your sweet Archie growling a feral warning was what woke you up that night. You shot out of bed, ripping off the covers and grabbing the shotgun from under your mattress. Archie never growls. An unhinged bark sent a jolt of panic through you, along with Chester, who woke up to sprint under your bed and hide. Archie certainly never barked. Not like that. Not in that way. Something was wrong. You clicked off the safety and cocked the shotgun.

You moved slowly at first, creeping your way over to the sound of Archie's growls, but when he let out a sharp whine, your vision went white-hot with rage.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY DOG!" You shouted, finally turning the corner and into the living room where two figures lurked. The lamp was still on, and as your eyes adjusted you could make out the masked face of Erron, and the form of some asshole looming over Archie with your baby backed into a wall.

Erron didn't respond at all at the sight of you. The unknown figure by your dog stood up slowly and whistled.

"You did say she was a feisty one." You scowled, keeping the gun pointed squarely on the man.

"Erron. I don't know why you're fucking here, but please tell me you don't know this asshole so I can just shoot him." Erron rolled his eyes at you. The figure laughed, moving away from Archie, who sprinted over to you so that he could cower behind your legs. Your eyes were trained on the figure as he proceeded to sit in your own fucking armchair.

"Name's Kano. Leader of the black dragon." The black dragon. The group of mercenaries that Erron had joined. Why the fuck did Erron bring this guy into your home. Erron called your name.

"Set the gun down, sugar." You didn't take your eyes off of Kano.

"Respectfully, Erron, I don't think I will." Kano laughed, but you didn't think anything was funny. Erron called your name again, strutting over to you carelessly. Archie growled as he got closer. He set a hand on the gun, pushing it down.

"Calm. Down." You huffed but gave in. Sending your friend a nasty look as you lowered your defense. Erron wouldn't willingly let you be in danger. There's no way he would. You had to remember that.

"We came here for some help. 'Know that cave at the edge of your property?" The cave? You found it when you had just moved in, part of an old interlocking set of mining tunnels carved out of the land in the early 1900s. When you checked it out at first, it was Erron who actually went with you. You had a fond memory of fucking around in the tunnel, only to find an old elevator next to a dead-end tunnel with bloody handprints and markings that trailed across the wall and into the elevator. That was enough to get the two out of there. What would they want with it?

"What about it?"

"Those runes we found in it match what a client is looking for. We just want to check it out, and get outa' you're way." You laughed, glancing between Kano, who was currently putting a cigarette out on your favorite chair- and Erron, who still stood next to you in an almost defensive manner.

"Am I supposed to believe that there's no catch to this? No killer secrets? No blackmail?" Kano snickered, standing from his chair and walking over to you. You stood strong, but the beating of your heart sped up. You hated feeling afraid.

"The catch is, you show us the cave, and we leave your little buddy here alive." You scowled, and Erron sighed deeply at his boss, knowing already that he had started something.

"First of all, you don't get shit if you threaten my dog, asshole. You piece of human sh-"

"Just think of it as a favor between friends." Erron interrupted. You frowned at his words. His paycheck was definitely depending on it. Your thoughts split In two different ways. One, the fact that he's using your friendship to manipulate you into doing him a favor, two… it felt relieving that he still thought of you as friends.

You finally gave in, sighing and relaxing almost completely. Archie nuzzles your leg before running off. You turned your head just slightly to watch him out of confusion when a sudden yank catches your attention. Kano had snatched your shotgun straight out of your hands. Erron stiffened next to you.

"I'll take that!"

"You-!" Erron held out back just as you went to lunge at Kano. You struggled against him for just a moment before he gave you a bit of a push to set you back. What had gotten into him?!

"Ah ah ah! Sorry, Sheila, there's no way we're gonna let you keep this on you. Erron?" Kano taunted. You went to yell in protest but only yelped, Erron's hands suddenly holding onto your arm.

"Just comply. It'll be over soon." Erron whispered. You grumbled in protest but didn't fight it as they took you from your warm house.

Kano walked proudly ahead of you and Erron while navigating to the cave. Fucker didn't even know where he was going. You had been scowling the whole time, a surprising feat while Erron was around. Speaking of which, His hand on your arm had softened its hold, but the strangest thing was that he still wouldn't look at you.

"This is your idea of a visit?" You mumbled to him. He shook his head, his heavy steps landing on a twig he forcefully snapped as you walked. He was definitely in a mood.

"This' a business trip, hun. Wouldn't be here if it weren't for that." You snickered.

"Yeah right. You'd end up here eventually." You said the words but didn't quite believe them as you walked. "Don't think you could stay away if you tried."

"-And I tried." You ignored the painful sting in your chest, going silent before shouting another set of directions to Erron's dipshit boss. You could almost feel Erron's gaze change as his eyes remained on you.

"-look, I didn't want you to get caught up in all this. It's bad enough that I'm here now." The words made you frown slightly. You elbowed Erron in the side, trying to make a little light of the situation.

"Better than Kano coming out here by himself." Erron laughed.

" 'Betcha you'd've killed him the moment he stepped into your house."

"I almost did." You couldn't see Erron's smile through his mask, but the happy look in his eyes was infectious. You couldn't help but blush a bit, walking closer to him. His hold on your arm was loose and comfortable at this point, and you couldn't make yourself break out of it.

"You lovebirds done shit-talking or what?" God, you hated this Kano guy. The rest of the walk was silent. After about 30 minutes of almost tripping on fallen limbs, you finally made it to the cave.

"Quite a big place for such a little property, huh?" You didn’t respond to Kano. Ignoring him as Erron guided you to walk past him.

"Oh don't be coy. Where'd all that fire go?" Kano was taunting you again, but both you and Erron ignored him this time. Erron spoke over him when he tried to speak a third time.

"Which way d'you go from here?" You laughed.

"You think I know? I try to stay away from this place as much as I can. Haven't been here since you were with me." Erron furrowed his eyebrows, taking a moment to click a flashlight on. He looked around for a moment, before setting out in a direction. Kano followed behind, a little too close to your back for your liking.

Shivers ran rampant across your skin when you finally found the elevator. Kano pushed past you forcefully, knocking you off balance. Erron caught you with a steady hand around your waist. You relaxed in his touch, and once again pushed forward.

"Ahh! Look at that beauty!" Kano took out a camera, and you flinched at the flash.

"I'm sure the client won't mind if we keep a few copies of the pictures to ourselves, now would he?" Kano laughed. Being around Erron was nice, but you were losing your patience. It was late, you had work in the morning, and you were just plain tired of this black dragon bullshit. You didn't notice when Erron's arm fell away from yours.

"Look, I showed you the cave. Just give me my gun, and let me go back to bed." Kano snickered at your words, Erron loomed behind you.

"I don't think you'll be going far." Kano spat on the ground after he spoke, you scowled.

"Excuse me?" Kano's smile was gritty and disgusting. He whistled at Erron, walking past you with your shotgun held loosely in his grip. You contemplated snatching it, but when you whipped around-

It almost felt like you couldn't breathe. You were staring down the barrel of Erron's pistol for a long moment.

"Look kid, we can't have someone like you knowing about this cave thing, it's too risky and all that blabber, you understand. You've been such a delightful host and all, but it's time for you to go." Kano laughed.

"Can't tell any divine dipshits about our little meeting if she's dead anyway, now can she Erron?" Erron had never been so out of focus before, his stomach wringing in knots. He hardly knew what to think as he pointed the gun at you, something he'd never thought he'd ever do.

"Hey?" A little voice called out. A little face leaning down to peer at the little boy with his head buried unto his knees. He hardly glanced up.

"Hi." He had murmured so quietly.

"Do you want to share this sandwich with me? You look lonely."

"Erron?" Your voice quivered. Panic was written all over your face. His finger lingered on the trigger as his chest squeezed.

"Sit still, dumbass." You squeezed his bloodied arm.

"That shit burns!" He hissed out. You laughed at him, dabbing at the large cut he had gotten from some idiot with broken glass on the school grounds.

"Well duh. It's isopropyl alcohol. It's gonna burn like hell." He was cute when he was confused. You laughed.

"It disinfects the wound, Erron."

"... I knew that. I'm not fucking stupid." He had grumbled.

"Nothin' personal." He finally spoke. The words hurt him as they came out.

"That's not how you use a rifle." Throwing popcorn, at Erron, you quickly stole the remote to turn the volume up.

"Shh! Just shut up and enjoy the movie. Westerns aren't exactly supposed to be realistic."

"Well I can't really enjoy an unrealistic western, can I?- he's holding that wrong-"

Your face started to shift from panic to anger as kano patted Erron's shoulder, walking back into the rickety elevator.

"Panicked now, aren't ya Sheila? Want to beg? Or are you the proud sort?" You snarled at him.

"No." You said stiffly. "No. I want to see you do it, Erron." Kano laughed from the elevator. Erron remained stiff, his smooth voice taking a moment to come out.

"Look, you don't know-"

"I said do it, Erron!" You snapped, stepping closer to the cowboy. He didn't step back, his hand didn't waver. You stepped close enough to him that the barrel of his pistol pressed to your forehead.

"Go ahead! Be Kano's little lapdog. Shoot me." You spat, the adrenaline working its way into your system. "Shoot me and say goodbye to all the FUCKING years I took care of your ass and bury me in that shitty town we grew up in Erron!" Erron's stone-faced seriousness finally broke, and even though he was wearing a mask you could still see the rage in his eyes as he grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and forcefully yanked you closer to him. He kept the gun pressed to the side of your head.

"Do you have any idea who you're provoking? You. don't. know me. anymore. Sugar. You don't have any idea what I'm capable of!" You let out a curt laugh.

"You and I both know I still do." You snarled. Both of you went silent, the tension crackling between the two of you. You could see the panic that hid under the steely overlaying emotion in his eyes. Only Kano's ongoing childish taunts remained.

"Well then, Erron? Get on with it!" Erron's stiff posture remained, he spoke to Kano, but his eyes remained on yours.

"Fuck off Kano." Kano didn't take that well.

"Excuse me? I'm your boss, dipshit. You can't just-" All of a sudden, Erron pushes you back, reels around, and shoots through the spaces in the old metal elevator, the bullet hits the back of the wall, and ricochets through the old, decaying pulley rope that held it up. Kano looks up in horror and rage. His screaming and cursing faded as the elevator launched down and crashed to the very bottom of the mine.

All is silent. All that can be heard is your labored breathing from all the shouting and adrenaline.

"Still want me to shoot you?" Erron asks. Speaking smug words with a tone only you could recognize as him trying to hide his panic. You scowled again. Walking over to him with tears stinging at the corner of your eyes.

"You're such a fucking asshole!" You shouted, punching him in the shoulder. Erron didn't flinch.

"And?" You couldn't stop the tears now. All the pain, and heartbreak, and sadness rushing out at once. You weekly hit his shoulder one more time, and grappled him into a hug, burying your face into his chest without being able to stop your sobs. Erron stood stiff. After a moment, his arms slid around your waist, and he held you back tightly.

"Kano's gonna kill you for that." You laughed through the tears. Erron didn't respond. His hand left your side for only a moment, and when it held onto again he had taken off his mask, letting it drop to the floor. Erron buried his face into your hair, holding you a bit tighter than before.

It was quiet again. Erron squirmed after a moment.

"...I wouldn't have buried you in that town." You snorted, not taking your face out of his chest, biting your nails into the fabric of his shirt just a bit.

"So you admit you would've shot me?" Erron didn't react to the words. He only sighed into your hair, lifting a hand to pinch your ear. You pulled yourself out of his chest with a laugh, and his hands settled on your waist. You wiped your tears, your nose, and tried to make yourself a little better. It didn't really work. Erron could see that. He lifted a calloused hand to your cheek anyway.

"Just because you've come to your fucking senses doesn't mean I'm not still mad." You sniffled, smiling still as the bitter words fell out of your mouth.

"Yeah, well you should be. Kano was being an asshole anyway. That's the only reason I let you go." Erron coughed, you raised an eyebrow at him, clearly not buying it. He rolled his eyes, huffing through his nose.

"... Maybe not the only reason." The smile returned to your face, and you rolled your eyes at him this time. At this point, it was almost like he didn't realize it himself.

"God, you're really not fooling anyone, dumbass." Erron scowled, about to retort when you decided, Fuck it. And clutched his face to pull him into a kiss. He didn't respond at first, stiff and uneasy. Always so stubborn. After a second or two though, he melted into your lips, pulling you closer. It was hard to hold on to all your anger when he was just so kissable. He'd get his ass beaten for this little stunt. You would make sure of that, but right now all you wanted to focus on was the relieving kiss you had waited so long for.

#mk erron black #erron black x reader #erron black imagine #erron black reader insert #mortal kombat x reader #mk imagine

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 4 years ago

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Geralt x Eskel | 14.7k || header by the loveliest @petrificustotaluss <3

Geralt is in the middle of bottling a pain elixir for Mildred down the road when there's a frantic knock at his door. Frowning in the direction of the sound, he corks the bottle and rises from his seat, crossing to open the door. A young girl - Geralt recognizes her as the blacksmith's apprentice - is bent over, hands on her knees, and panting on his doorstep. She looks worried and when Geralt crouches down she looks up at him with big, glossy eyes.

"He's hurt," she pants and Geralt isn't sure who she's referring to. It's a farming village, someone is always hurt.

"Who," he asks gently and Gretka just looks at him.

"Eskel," she says and it feels like a dagger being plunged through Geralt's heart. It takes everything in him to keep his breathing even as he reaches out to rest a hand on her shoulder.

"Where is he?" he asks, "Is he okay?"

"They're bringing him here. The boys from the farm."

"Okay," he says gently, still trying to slow the hammering of his heart, "why don't you run along home and I'll go meet them."

Gretka nods and gives Geralt one last pleading look before straightening up and pulling away. She only takes a couple of steps before turning back to him, fidgeting with the hem of her apron.

"You'll take good care of him, right?"

"Of course."

Geralt doesn't know what he can do. Without knowing what happened, he can't promise anything, but he will do the best he can. Eskel is a friend and one of the kindest people Geralt knows, he has to be able to do something.

When Gretka is out of sight, Geralt pushes himself up on shaky legs, takes a deep breath, and makes his way out of the garden and down the path to meet up with the entourage. He doesn't make it far before he spots them, John the farmer and his three sons, and they've got Eskel between them on a stretcher. Geralt tries not to let it bother him, but even seeing him from a distance makes his chest tight.

As soon as the men reach him, everything moves far too quickly. Geralt is giving them directions and they move surprisingly fast for carrying a man as large as Eskel between them. Eskel himself is awake and Geralt does his best to give him a once-over on the way back to his hut. Immediately, he sees burn marks in his clothes, holes of varying sizes where the fabric was singed and he fears to see the skin beneath. A good portion of one trouser leg has been lost already and Eskel's leg is red and blotchy. Burns, at least, he knows how to deal with; he only hopes it's nothing more serious than that.

When they reach the hut, Geralt hurries in ahead of the others, seeking out a tonic for pain relief. He'd rather Eskel was unconscious for all of it, but that will have to come later; he still needs to talk to him about his injuries. So for now a simple painkiller will have to do. He finds one that's not too strong and hopes it will be strong enough.

He directs the men to lay Eskel on his bed and he hurries into the bedroom after them, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. He thanks the men and sends them on their way. He'll have to remember to repay them somehow, but he has other things to worry about now.

Eskel groans where he lies, and Geralt reaches out, his hand hovering just above Eskel's thigh. He doesn't dare touch him because he doesn't know how bad it is, but he wants to comfort him somehow.

"Hey," he says gently, "I'm here. Tell me what happened?"

"Fuckin' goat," Eskel mumbles and Geralt immediately scans his body for signs of bruising or puncture wounds. "Was making coal and she came up and tried to get right into the fire pit, had to pull her out of the way. Dog next door spotted her and started barking-" he groans and shifts in place, wincing, "-spooked her and when she pulled away I lost my footing-"

"Shit," Geralt mutters. He can imagine well enough what happened next. Eskel huffs a laugh, immediately followed by another groan of pain. "Shh, just relax. Where is it worst?"

"I think my leg?" Eskel says, "but my arm's not great either." He sounds much more concerned about the latter and Geralt realizes with a start that it's his left arm, his dominant arm that's worse for wear. Eskel moves to demonstrate and Geralt presses a hand to his chest instinctively.

"It's okay," he says quickly before realizing he's now leaning right over him. "I'll look you over." He only belatedly realizes he's still holding the bottle of pain tonic in his other hand and he pauses. "Sorry, I should have- It's easier for me if you're unconscious when I look you over, but I need to undress you first." He can feel his cheeks flush already and he hates it, but if Eskel notices, he doesn't mention it.

"Do what you gotta, doesn't bother me any."

"If you'd rather be awake I can give you this for the pain-"

"Geralt," Eskel interrupts, "you're not some stranger passing through town, I trust you."

Oh. Geralt's heart clenches and it takes him far too long to recover from that.

"Okay," he says softly, "wait here-" he realizes what he's saying at once and stops, shutting his eyes and dropping his chin. "I'll be right back with the sedative."

Geralt slips from the room and back into his kitchen, pressing his hands to the table and dropping his head. He's an idiot. Eskel is injured - badly - and here he is barely keeping his shit together. He gives himself exactly ten seconds to sulk and panic a little bit about having Eskel in his home and then he replaces the painkiller on the shelf and pulls down a bottle of sedative.

He measures it out carefully, though with shaky hands, and pours it into a cup that will be easier to drink from. He takes it into the bedroom and sets it on the side table, pulling up a stool for himself so he doesn't jostle Eskel any more than is necessary.

"It's fast acting," he explains, "you'll be asleep in a matter of minutes."

"For how long?"

"A couple of hours? Unless your body needs the sleep, then maybe longer." Eskel nods lightly and reaches up automatically when Geralt lifts the cup off the side table. "Hey," he whispers, "it's okay, let me."

He presses the cup to Eskel's lips, tipping it up so he can drink it. He hates seeing him like this, helpless and obviously in a great amount of pain, but he tells himself it will be fine. Eskel will sleep soon and Geralt can do what he can for the wounds.

Almost as soon as he's finished drinking, Eskel's eyelids flutter and he lets them drop shut. Geralt waits until he hears the sound of his breath evening out, then finally sets the cup down. He hadn't realized how tightly he'd been holding it until he lets go. His gaze lands on Eskel again, looking over him, and he swallows hard.

Pushing all his other feelings aside, Geralt gets to work. He starts with the belt around Eskel's waist, undoing it and gently pulling it out from under him to set it aside. Next comes the apron - slightly more difficult because Geralt has to empty the pockets first before he can turn him over to untie it, and Eskel's pockets are full of shit. Everything from nails to rags to dried fruit for the goat winds up in a pile on the end of the bed and Geralt smiles to himself as he thinks about it, imagines Eskel feeding treats to lil' bleater even when she's a pest.

Once he's got the apron set aside, Geralt falters. Shirt or trousers next and he can't bring himself to do either. But he's a professional, he can do this. He's done it dozens of times before. But stripping Eskel out of his clothes is not the same as the alderman or the seamstress down the road. Geralt swallows hard and resigns himself to a not insignificant amount of embarrassment as he leans over to unbutton Eskel's shirt.

The buttons end halfway down his chest and thick dark hair appears where his shirt now sits open. Geralt pretends not to notice and reaches down to unbutton Eskel's trousers, making it as easy as possible to pull his shirt loose where it's still partially tucked in. He winces in sympathy as he pulls the shirt over his head, revealing red, splotchy skin on the better half of his chest and stomach. It only goes partway around his side, so Geralt isn't too worried about rolling him over, but he will have to check.

First, he gets Eskel's trousers undone all the way and tugs them down his thighs, shocked to find he's wearing nothing between them. He steadfastly ignores Eskel's cock where it rests against his hip and makes a mental note to find him something to wear if he's going to be here longer than the night. Which, judging by the state of him, he will be.

Once Eskel is fully nude, Geralt inspects the burns more closely and they're worse than he thought. But when he turns him over, they don't reach his back, which means lying in bed will still be comfortable enough. Geralt leaves him for a moment, returning with cold water to rinse the burns and a salve for the burns that will both help with the pain and start the healing process.

He starts with the water, soaking cloths and laying them over the damaged skin, replacing each when they begin to warm up. He keeps it up for close to half an hour until Eskel's skin is no longer hot to the touch and then, once he's dry, he starts with the salve.

Geralt fidgets when he can't get the lid off and eventually has to stop and collect himself before continuing. This time, he gets the lid off without trouble and begins applying the salve.

Eskel shifts in his sleep and it takes all of Geralt's strength not to reach out to settle him. He realizes belatedly that he'll need bandages for him and wants to immediately get up to collect some, but he knows he should finish this first. He's just antsy, struggling to sit still and keep from climbing up onto the bed with Eskel. He takes his time applying salve and once he's satisfied with his work, leaves to collect bandages.

Nearly Eskel's entire front has some sort of damage and Geralt winces as he wraps his wounds, starting with his legs and working his way up. When he's done, he sits at the side of the bed for a moment, barely resisting the urge to reach down and brush his fingers along Eskel's cheek. His face is pinched up, even in sleep and Geralt can only hope the salve will act quickly, helping to relieve some of the pain, if only temporarily.

While Eskel is sleeping, Geralt keeps himself occupied. He brews teas to help with the pain and ensures he has enough salve to re-bandage Eskel's wounds tomorrow. He makes sure he has enough food in the house and calls out for supplies he's missing. It's not often he has someone else in the house with him and he doesn't want to leave Eskel alone like this.

But once he's sure his supplies are in order and fresh salve and bandages are prepared for the morning, Geralt doesn't know what to do with himself. He tries to read, but he can't focus on the words and when he cleans, he finds himself sweeping the same bit of floor four times because his mind keeps going back to Eskel lying in his bed. Although that, at least, gives him something to keep him occupied for a little while.

Geralt pulls all his winter blankets and extra pillows from the cupboard, making himself up a bed on the floor next to his own bed. He doesn't want to be far from Eskel, but he doesn't want to risk hurting him by sharing the bed. Once that's seen to, he makes his own supper and extra for Eskel if he wakes before the morning, then goes out to collect his laundry from the morning's wash.

While he's out in the yard, three separate people stop him to ask about Eskel. Geralt tells them all the same thing; he's fine, but he needs to rest and he'll be in bed for at least a couple of days. He appreciates their concern and he knows Eskel would too, but he'd rather keep to himself right now. He's not the one injured, but he's still feeling rather raw and overwhelmed by the whole situation.

It's a well-kept secret that Geralt has always been fond of Eskel, more so maybe than is good for him. They both grew up together in town, playing in the woods and the creek as boys and later attending the same festivals with the other children their age. They had at some point been mistaken for brothers, only as Eskel got older, he got bulkier while Geralt remained thin but strong. As children, Geralt had had a crush on the other boy and like so many other things growing up, it had never entirely gone away.

He drops a shirt thinking about it and as he ducks down, spots a red tulip growing next to the fence. Appropriate, he thinks. Tulips mean passion, a declaration of love, and he can't help but pluck it from its spot and bring it inside with him. He puts his laundry away and takes the flower into the bedroom with him, intending to put it in a cup to brighten up the room a little, but when he sees Eskel again, he sighs and drops onto the stool.

As he looks over Eskel again, his modesty preserved by a blanket pulled up over his waist, he smiles sadly. Leaning over, he slips the flower into Eskel's hair, tucking it behind his ear and brushing the hair from his forehead.

Eskel is still asleep when night falls and Geralt doesn't want to wake him. He takes the extra food he prepared and sets it on the side table with a cup of water. If Eskel wakes in the middle of the night, they'll be there for him, even if it might be difficult for him to move.

Geralt then settles himself in his makeshift bed and shuts his eyes. Then opens them again, listening to the sound of Eskel's breath. He rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling, pulls his blankets up tighter against his shoulders, rolls back onto his side. Nothing he does makes it easier to sleep. His mind races with thoughts of Eskel's suffering, hoping he won't wake until the morning and Geralt will be there to care for him. He thinks about him into the early hours of the morning and then, finally, falls asleep once he's made himself a plan for the morning.

When Geralt wakes, he can't have been asleep for more than a few hours. He pulls himself up off the floor, groaning at the way his joints creak and his muscles groan at him from sleeping on the hard floor. He'd be much happier to have slept on the sofa in the main room or on the bed, but he'd rather be closer to Eskel, though not close enough to risk hurting him.

He goes about his morning routine, cooking breakfast and disposing of the supper Eskel never ate. He puts it in a bucket for the pigs next door and proceeds to get something hot ready for Eskel in its place. He's glad, on one hand, that Eskel is still asleep, but on the other, he's worried that he's still asleep.

It's certainly not the tonic anymore, but he must have been exhausted, from his injuries or just because he works so damn hard. Geralt gets breakfast and a glass of water together and takes them into the room. He sits on the edge of the bed to prepare Eskel's salve and bandages and behind him, the bed shifts.

"Hey," Geralt whispers, turning to face a very frowny and somewhat confused Eskel. "Don't get up, you're hurt."

"I- Geralt?"

"You were brought to me yesterday afternoon, do you remember?"

"Mm, I remember falling in the coals and… yeah. Yeah, I remember coming here. You took care of me."

"It's my job," Geralt says simply, but he can feel the heat rise in his cheeks. It's not his job and they both know it.

"Coulda sent for a doctor."

"You needed immediate attention, I was happy to help. How are you feeling now?"

"Sore. Stiff. How bad is it?"

"Bad," Geralt says simply. He doesn't want to it and he knows Eskel doesn't want that either. "You'll need to rest a couple of days. You're… more than welcome to say here."

"Geralt, I couldn't-"

"You can, you will. I have more than enough space."

"Geralt-"

"I made breakfast," Geralt interrupts, "please, eat. There's water as well and I'll have to check your burns after you eat."

Eskel relents at the scent of food and Geralt is more than happy to have him eat it. He helps Eskel into a sitting position, propping pillows up against the frame of the bed to make him more comfortable. Eskel's right arm is better off than his left, so he's fully capable of eating on his own; Geralt could just leave him to it and give him a bit of privacy, but he can't bring himself to get up.

He keeps his hands to himself, even when Eskel fumbles the first couple of times because he's not sure how much Eskel would allow. He was still pretty out of it when he arrived yesterday, not that Geralt could blame him for that. He sits and waits and when Eskel is finished eating, he drinks the entirety of his water and settles back into bed.

"Sure you don't mind me staying?" Eskel asks.

"Of course not, stop worrying." Geralt gathers up the salve and bandages and sits on the edge of the bed. It's only when he pulls the blanket down to see Eskel's stomach that he remembers he's completely naked beneath the covers and he draws back.

"Do you-" Geralt lowers his eyes, "I could find you some clothes," he suggests, "I could bandage you up well enough if you wanted a pair of trousers."

"'S fine," Eskel mumbles, "wouldn't be the first time, anyway."

Geralt nearly chokes. He knows Eskel's only referring to the times they would swim in the river together as boys, but it feels very different when he's lying naked in Geralt's bed. He's not sure exactly how to go about it with tact, so Geralt just pulls the blankets away all at once and tucks them under themselves to the side. He carefully controls his line of sight as he moves to strip the bandages away.

Some of them have bled through, only a little, but it makes him nervous. He peels the bandages back and is relieved to find the wounds themselves don't look any worse than yesterday. He breathes a sigh of relief and Eskel snorts just faintly.

"I'm more resilient than you give me credit for," he mumbles. Geralt's instinct is to hit him gently, for being so careless about his own health, but he has no intention of proving himself a hypocrite. If Eskel is so blase about it, someone has to take care of him.

Once the bandages have all been removed, Geralt takes them away to be disposed of and finds a clean washcloth. He fills a basin with cool water and returns to the bed, setting the basin on the stool within arm's reach. Eskel has shifted so he's further down the bed now, easier for Geralt to reach, but his legs are spread just so that they draw his attention and Geralt has to try very hard not to look.

He chastises himself for it silently. Eskel is injured and the last thing he needs is his friend gawking at him because he's naked. Forcing the thoughts from his head, Geralt wets the cloth and wrings out the excess water.

Eskel shudders at the first touch of the cloth, winces as Geralt dabs it against the burn on his calf, but he doesn't complain even once. When Geralt is finished cleaning the wounds on his legs, he dampens the cloth again, wiping it along Eskel's unharmed skin. He gets a much better reaction to that.

"If you're too hot I can open the windows in here," Geralt offers. "It's stuffy anyway. In a couple of days, you should be healed well enough for a bath, I can fill it with cool water for you. I know it's hot in the summer."

Eskel just hums appreciatively and when Geralt pulls away to take the water and replace it, Eskel grabs his wrist.

"Thank you," he says, "truly, Geralt I know this is above and beyond your responsibilities. I know we haven't been as close as we used to be. So thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," Geralt mumbles, but he doesn't move, not until Eskel's hand slips away from his wrist. "I'll be right back with fresh water."

His cheeks are hot and he feels warmer than he should be so early in the morning, but his skin tingles where Eskel's fingers touched him and it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. So when he goes to collect fresh water, he splashes some of it on his face to cool down and to calm himself. Eskel is just a friend and he's doing him a favour because he's hurt and he can't do it himself. This isn't anything more than that.

He takes the water back and finishes cleaning Eskel's wounds as quickly as possible. To fill the time and keep his mind occupied, he asks about Eskel's work. He's always been fascinated by smithing, everything from the tiny little hinges that he makes for chests up to the frames that are used to build carts. On occasion, Eskel has tried his hand at swordsmithing and he was damned good at it from what Geralt heard. They'd offered him a position in the king's employ, but Eskel had wanted to remain in town, live a simpler life. Geralt, at least, was glad for that.

When Eskel is clean and dry again, Geralt helps him to his feet and finds him a robe to wrap around his shoulders. It's loose but soft and shouldn't hurt when it brushes against the burns. Not at least, as much as any other clothing Geralt could offer him. Eskel walks around a little awkwardly and pauses when he turns back to the bed. He bends a little awkwardly and picks up a crushed tulip from the pillow covering.

"Must have fallen into the bed," he mumbles, turning back to Geralt. "I must have crushed it in my sleep, I'm sorry." He says it with such sincerity that Geralt doesn't have the heart to tell him it was never not in the bed.

"It's fine," he says simply, his heart hammering in his chest. "There are plenty in the garden." Eskel offers him a smile and sets the broken flower back down on the side table.

"I have to water outside," Geralt says, "the sun won't be good for your burns, but I won't be long. Make yourself at home."

He leaves before Eskel can respond because he's still trying to figure out what possessed him to put a flower in Eskel's hair last night. It was silly and pointless and he could have gotten caught and then maybe Eskel would ask to go home. And Geralt likes being able to provide something for him, even if he doesn't like the circumstances surrounding it.

He takes his time out in the garden, both enjoying the sun and fresh air and giving Eskel some time to himself, even if only a few minutes. When he goes back in, Eskel's sitting on the edge of his bed, just watching out the window.

"In a couple of days, your skin should be healed enough to go back out in the sun," Geralt offers. Eskel hums but doesn't say anything and Geralt is surprised to find he doesn't seem particularly sad as he would have expected.

"Do you want to lie down again? I'll put more salve on your burns."

Eskel nods and shrugs carefully out of the robe, hanging it over the end of the bed before lying down obediently. He lies with his legs spread, just wide enough for Geralt to be able to reach between to wrap the bandage around and he should be thankful that he doesn't have to ask, but all he can think about is crawling between those thighs.

He realizes he has bigger problems when he pulls the little box of salve out. He has to get right up close between Eskel's legs to ensure he reaches the extent of the injuries and that means being very close to his cock. Last night Eskel was asleep so it didn't matter and this morning, Geralt was able to avoid touching too closely, but there's no getting out of it now.

But Geralt reminds himself that he's a professional and that Eskel needs this to get better, so he takes a deep breath and gets to work. Eskel's skin is soft beneath his hands, surprisingly so, and Geralt finds his hands wandering. He spreads salve on the wounds, still struggling not to pull back when Eskel winces. And maybe it's as an apology, that he runs his hand under his calf just gently.

But when Eskel sighs happily - the first pleasant sound Geralt's heard out of him - and settles against the bed, it's all the encouragement he needs. Gerlt doesn't let himself get sidetracked from his job, but he drags his fingers along Eskel's unblemished skin, soothing even as he continues to tend to his wounds. Maybe he gets a little carried away, captivated by the smoothness of Eskel's skin under his hands, but Eskel doesn't seem to mind, so Geralt doesn't think anything of it.

Until he moves up to the burns on Eskel's thighs and finds him… hard. Something hot and insistent swirls in Geralt's gut, but he adamantly tamps it down, refuses to acknowledge it. He smooths his palm up the outside of Eskel's thigh, brushing his thumb against his skin before reaching for the salve again. At the first press of the cream to his skin, Eskel's cock twitches, although Geralt tries very hard not to notice it.

"Sorry," Eskel mumbles, a breath of a moan in his voice, "your hands are soft, feels nice."

"It's fine," Geralt whispers, "I shouldn't have." And although he wants to continue touching, he returns to his work but keeps his hands to himself.

When he's finished, he slides off the bed. His heart is still beating too quickly and his own trousers are a little too snug, but he ignores it and pointedly keeps his gaze on Eskel's face.

"I have to go out," he says, "I have a friend who's a mage at the edge of town, I need to get something from her, it'll help."

"The edge of the village?" Eskel asks, "that's pretty far."

"I'll be back before nightfall," Geralt promises.

It's not really that far, Geralt thinks as he leaves the house, it's only half an hour each way - barely anything in comparison to how far he has to travel for some of the herbs he can't grow at home.

The trip, which should take less than two hours, winds up taking three. It's not uncommon that Geralt and Mara get caught up talking about new remedies or new ways to mix herbs, but it just so happens that she has been developing a potent burn remedy. And while Geralt is always interested in new potions - especially those above his own ability - but something that can help Eskel is even more intriguing.

Geralt leaves with a basket of foreign herbs, two bottles of the burn remedy, and a warning that the latter is potent and need only be given in small doses. Geralt makes a mental note of that and hurries back home, having already delayed longer than he should.

When he arrives home, Eskel is in the kitchen and Geralt frowns at him for being out of bed until he realizes there's a simple supper waiting for him on the table. He still wants to chastise Eskel for not taking care of himself properly, but his heart clenches at the thought of him getting up and preparing food for him and there's something about Eskel wearing his robe that scrambles his brain. He settles for a gentle you should be in bedwith me."

"Oh."

He's not sure what to say to that. Geralt doesn't remember the last time he shared a bed with anyone for anything other than sex and even then, that was too long ago to be worth remembering.

"I don't want to hurt you," he says because it's easier than admitting he's nervous about sharing a bed because of his feelings for the other man.

"You won't, please Geralt I hate to think of you sleeping down there on the floor."

"Only if you're sure," Geralt says, against his better judgement.

"Completely. Get up here."

Geralt relents and stumbles over to the bed in the dark, climbing up over the end of the bed and keeping close to the wall so he doesn't jostle Eskel. He lays flat on his back, arms crossed over his stomach and focuses very hard on not breathing too loudly or too quickly. But Eskel shuffles over, presses right up against his side and hums.

"'S warmer with you here," he says and Geralt feels awful. He should have asked if he was warm enough.

"If you're cold, I can get more blankets- I didn't think-"

"Hush," Eskel chuckles, "I'm fine. It's always nicer to have someone else in your bed."

Geralt can feel the flush creep all the way up his neck and into his cheeks, but he doesn't dare say anything. It is, he decides, nicer having someone else in your bed, but these are not the circumstances under which he would choose to share a bed. But the heat from Eskel's arm against his own spreads through him and he lets himself relax into the mattress, more focused on Eskel's body next to him than the quickness of his own breath.

When Geralt wakes, it's with his nose pressed into Eskel's neck and a heavy arm around his shoulder. For a moment he's blissfully unaware that he's actually away, happy to remain in his dreamlike state. But when Eskel moves his arm, he seethes with pain and everything comes back to Geralt very abruptly.

He slips out from under Eskel's arms, apologizing profusely, barely aware of Eskel's constant answering stream of reassurances. It's not until they're fully disentangled and Geralt is climbing back out of bed that he remembers Eskel is naked.

It takes everything in him not to run away, but Eskel needs him, so he stays. He's so flustered he almost forgets about the burn remedy, what with bandaging Eskel's wounds and cleaning them again. But he does remember and Eskel swallows it with a grimace.

"Unpleasant?" Geralt asks.

"Disgusting."

"I'm sorry. You should only need to take it a couple of times. It will help you heal faster and I should have you home within the week."

It's only the second day, but as he says the words, Geralt feels a certain sadness to be sending Eskel off home already. He likes having him around and will be disappointed the first morning he wakes and doesn't have someone to care for. But he's glad Eskel is getting better, or will be.

The morning passes quickly, but there's a lingering embarrassment that follows him into the afternoon and early evening. Geralt has been trying to focus on his work - just because Eskel is injured and in his house doesn't mean he's allowed to fall behind on his other orders - but it's hard.

It's summer, so it's hot and Eskel is always shoving the blankets down during the day, pushing them off his chest so they settle just below his hips and Geralt is having a very hard time keeping his eyes to himself. But every time he glances over, Eskel is stretching or smiling back at him and it's very hard to concentrate on even the most basic remedies when he's under Eskel's gaze.

By the time they're ready for bed, Geralt has gotten a little work done and has settled enough that when Eskel calls him over to bed, he doesn't complain. He crawls up under the covers, making sure to stay on his own side, this time.

This time, when the morning comes, Geralt is still on his own side of the bed and he manages to slip out before Eskel wakes. He slips out of the room to collect water for a bath, splashing some of it on his face to wake him up, and by the time Eskel wakes up, Geralt has the bath mostly ready for him.

He takes care in unwrapping the bandages on his chest and wiping away the excess salve from the wounds but already they're starting to look better. Geralt can't be sure if it's his own work or the burn remedy from Mara, but he's happy to see Eskel moving around more comfortably. Still, Geralt is careful with him.

He pulls the sheets down carefully and nearly chokes when he realizes Eskel is half-hard. Feels nice. The words echo in his mind and Geralt forcefully shoves them away along with the stirring heat in his gut. He shouldn't be thinking things like this about Eskel, he certainly shouldn't be thinking about them when Eskel is hurt. So he helps him out of bed and wraps an arm around his waist, pointedly ignoring the way Eskel's cock bounces when he stands up, and helps him get into the bath.

The cold water, Geralt thinks, should ease his arousal, but it doesn't.

Eskel settles in the bath with a hum, stretching his arms up to rest on the edges of the tub. For the most part, Geralt uses his hands to wash him, scooping clean water onto his skin and rubbing gently with his fingertips. He has a special soap he's used before for greater wounds and it doesn't seem to sting Eskel at all, but he's still careful with it, rubbing it onto his hands to apply it, just in case.

And Eskel hums under his touch, head dropped back over the edge of the tub, eyes closed. He's enjoying this, Geralt realizes, which is... probably a good thing. It's better than him being in pain, anyway. But as Geralt's hands slip lower, he becomes increasingly aware of Eskel's erection and he knows he shouldn't even think about it, but his fingers twitch against Eskel's skin, eager to touch and stroke.

He restrains himself, but only barely and when Eskel's hips shift to get comfortable, Geralt nearly forgets himself. And when he gets to his thighs, slipping between them to ensure the last of the salve is washed away, Eskel lets out a soft, shuddering moan. Geralt grits his teeth against it and continues, despite his own growing arousal. He barely survives the bath, and he has to keep behind Eskel as he helps him back out of it and wraps him in a sheet because there's no way Eskel won't realize just how it's affected him otherwise.

Eskel gets settled on the bed as soon as he's dry enough, lying with the sheet around him, but not covering him. His cock sits heavy against his hip and Geralt curses himself for how much he focuses on it. Yes, it's been a long time since he's been with someone, but Eskel needs him to help him, he doesn't need Geralt lusting over him while he's barely in good enough condition to get up and walk around on his own. He shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath, and gets to work.

But Eskel is tense under his hands this morning, and while he does his best to be soothing, nothing seems to work. Geralt has apologized three times before he realizes what the problem is and then he feels like an idiot because it's been staring him in the face this whole time.

"Are you alright?" he asks, "it's starting to look uncomfortable." He gestures vaguely toward Eskel's cock where it's swollen and twitching against his hip.

"'S fine. My caretaker would just be upset with me if I tried to do anything about it, anyway. Gotta relax, can't be overworking myself." He chuckles lightly and Geralt would swear he catches a wink as he scoffs at him.

"Sure?"

"Geralt, it's not the first time, you're just-" he takes a slow, measured breath as if to emphasize his point, "-very good with your hands."

Geralt wants to say that he has to be, that it's part of his job, but he doesn't trust his voice, so he takes Eskel's reassurance for what it is. But he's barely put his hands on him again before Eskel is pulling in shuddering breaths and moaning softly as Geralt's palm slides up the inside of his thigh. It's distracting to say the last and Geralt's own cock stirs in his trousers. He doesn't think it through very long before offering to help.

"I could… take care of it for you," he offers quietly, "so you don't overwork yourself. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Yeah?" Eskel asks and Geralt finds himself nodding, far more enthusiastic about touching Eskel's cock than he should be. "As long as you don't mind."

Geralt barely resists licking his lips as he glances at Eskel's cock and assures him that he doesn't mind at all. It's part of his healing, after all.

He slips off the bed to retrieve a bottle of oil and then comes back to sit on Eskel's other side. He slicks his hand up and tries not to think too much about what he's doing. The first touch has Eskel shuddering though and it's increasingly difficult for Geralt to keep his own body under control.

He winds his fingers around him and they don't quite touch. Eskel seems oblivious to his internal struggle and Geralt reminds himself this is not for him. As much as he wants this, it's for Eskel. So he gets to work quickly, wrapping around the base of him and stroking up to the head. To start, he's slow, almost clinical about it, as he would be if he needed to force an erection to examine a patient. But he doesn't have to force anything with Eskel, and before long his hips are shifting, pushing into the touch and Geralt speeds up.

He lets his thumb rub over the head of Eskel's cock, watches the way it pushes through the tunnel of his fist and he barely holds back a groan himself. He wants this to be more. He wants to be able to straddle his hips and kiss him while he touches him, to be able to slip his fingers down and find out if Eskel is amenable to being touched elsewhere. The thoughts bounce around in his head and it makes it hard for him to just keep his hand on his dick. Especially when he rubs under the head and Eskel lets out a low moan, pushing into the touch.

Geralt would do anything to hear that sound again, even if it means embarrassing himself when he's the one who comes out of this with an erection. He gets one hand on Eskel's hip - to steady him, he tells himself - and brushes his thumb against the skin. Eskel makes soft little noises under him and Geralt starts to pick up on what he likes.

Firstly, he likes to be squeezed hard, Geralt almost pulls a whimper out of him when he clenches his fist around the base and pulls all the way up, keeping pressure around him. And when he plays with the head, running the pad of his thumb along the slit and just beneath. But when he goes quickly, jerking only the top couple of inches, Eskel writhes in the sheets. And Geralt knows he shouldn't let him. It's not bad for his burns, most of which being on his front, but it's not good either. Though the sight is something Geralt will remember until the day he dies.

He licks his lips, biting down on the bottom one, and stops abruptly, squeezing the head in his hand. Eskel swallows hard and rolls his head back.

"Geralt," he groans, "fuck, that's good." Geralt doesn't dare respond. His own cock is aching beneath him and his throat is dry. "'m close."

At that, Geralt groans aloud and one big hand comes down to settle on his shoulder. He works him quicker, pushing him closer to that edge and then realizes with a jolt that Eskel is going to come all over himself and he doesn't know what to do about that. In a moment of panic, he ducks down, taking the head of his cock in his mouth.

Eskel bucks and whines and then both hands are in his hair, tugging as he winds his fingers through it.

"Oh fuck- Geralt, yes." The words encourage him and Geralt takes him deeper, pushing as far as he can take it as Eskel mumbles above him. Somewhere amongst the slurry or words, he imagines he hears wanna touch you, but passes it off as a figment of his imagination prompted by how badly he wants to touch himself.

He shifts his position so his cock presses against the bed with every forward thrust and he's pushing his luck because he could easily come like this, even though he's holding himself back. He winds his tongue around Eskel's cock before dragging it up the underside and pressing into the sensitive spot below the head. Eskel groans above him, pressing Geralt's head down lightly and Geralt is more than happy to let him take control. If he lets Eskel call the shots, he can't be held accountable. He's helping out a friend in need, is all.

His own cock jerks under him and he rocks his hips into the bed with a groan, but Eskels thrusts pick up, quicker and harder than before, effectively distracting Geralt from his own need. Eskel moans his name as he comes and it's like a bolt of lightning through Geralt's entire body as he tries to keep his mouth on him. He swallows everything down, pulling up to suck at the head to be sure.

Eskel's eyelids flutter shut and he slumps back against the bed, breathing hard. His hands remain in Geralt's hair for a moment, tangling gently before Geralt rises up and he lets go.

"I-" Geralt starts, but then Eskel's eyes open and he's reaching for him. Geralt shakes his head and pulls away. "You don't need to. I'm fine. I.. have to go get the bandages, I'll be right back."

He barely manages to get out of the room before cursing silently. He leans against the wall, hands clenched at his sides. This was a stupid idea. He should have known he couldn't get out without being affected by it himself. Geralt shuts his eyes and focuses on anything else, walks himself through the remainder of Eskel's care for the afternoon, and once the heat searing through him fades a little, he goes to collect the bandages and returns to the bedroom.

Eskel just looks up at him as he approaches, still slightly foggy from his orgasm and when he smiles Geralt sighs and plops down a little too hard on the end of the bed.

"I'm sorry," Eskel says, "I didn't mean to push, you just- I thought you'd want me to reciprocate."

"You're injured," Geralt says, "and I couldn't ask that of you." He turns away, grabbing the salve from the shelf. Neither of them says anything else as Geralt returns to cleaning his wounds properly.

When he's finished, he's still wondering if he didn't make a mistake and Eskel is right on the edge of falling asleep, so he leaves him alone in the room and sets himself to work for a little while. It's not until well past noon that he realizes he hasn't been out in the garden at all today.

He heads out and tends to the plants, but he can't keep his thoughts from Eskel, from the way he moved under his hands and the way he moaned his name. He doesn't know how he's going to continue on with Eskel in his house after this.

But the following morning when he checks his wounds, everything goes smoothly and some of the smaller burns have already started healing around the edges. Geralt makes a mental note to talk to his Mara and ask about the recipe because it seems to be working wonders. Once Eskel is bandaged up again, Geralt finds him some clothes to wear and Eskel accompanies him out into the garden.

His skin is still sensitive, so Geralt finds a spot in the shade and lays out a blanket for him to sit on while he goes about tending to the garden. Eskel chats quietly to him, petting the neighbour's cat when it comes to see what's happening, and it all feels disturbingly domestic and Gerlt isn't quite sure what to do with that thought.

He continues on with his work, poking at the edges of a fantasy where Eskel comes home to him every night and Geralt continues to care for him. He lets himself get carried away with it, scoping out the best place in the garden to build a pen for the goat; she's well-behaved (most of the time) but not enough to be allowed free reign in his garden. She's already cost Eskel days of work, she doesn't need to cause problems for Geralt's business as well.

But there's a section in the backyard that he keeps for fall plants and they could be moved to the front yard easily enough if he brought some of the herbs inside to grow in his-

He's abruptly pulled from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder and he spins around to see Eskel standing behind him, smiling at him.

"Sorry," he says quietly, "didn't mean to startle you, you seemed very caught up in your thoughts."

"Mm," Geralt agrees, "just thinking about reorganizing the garden, bringing some of the herbs inside."

"I could help," Eskel offers and Geralt huffs a soft laugh, ignoring the heat creeping up the back of his neck.

"I don't think I'll have to, it was just a thought. How are you feeling?" he asks, quickly changing the topic before Eskel can add anything more.

"Better. I got up to walk around a little and I found these growing just down the road. To replace the one I crushed."

"That was for you," Geralt says weakly.

"Oh. I thought," he says a little bashfully, "they'd look nice in your hair." Eskel holds up the white flower, reaching up to slip it behind Geralt's ear. But Geralt jerks away unintentionally when he sees the flower.

"What's wrong?" Eskel asks, withdrawing.

"Nothing, it's just those - Gardenia - it means secret love."

Eskel's cheeks darken just slightly and Geral's heart does a little flip-flop at the sight. It's a very good look on him.

"Keep it anyway," Eskel says, reaching back up again. He pushes Geralt's hair back and tucks the flower behind his ear, smiling at his work. "Maybe you could tell me more about them so next time I can find you something more… appropriate."

Geralt's heart sinks a little but Eskel is still smiling so softly at him and the thought of telling him about his plants is exciting, so he pushes the bad feeling away and smiles in return. They spend the next hour going back through the whole garden while Eskel listens patiently to Geralt's explanation of the plants - what their meaning is, what they're used for.

Eskel listens and takes in everything Geralt tells him and Geralt has never loved him more than he does right now, standing out in the middle of his garden explaining how to make a potion to cure headaches.

By the time dinner rolls around, Eskel is getting sore again, so he heads inside while Geralt finishes up with the garden. He heads in when he's finished to find potatoes and carrots already cut for stew and Eskel sitting at the table in the corner waiting for him. He stays while Geralt makes dinner, talks to him while he cooks and Geralt wants to keep him forever, but he also wants him to leave because he knows he can't keep him.

Tonight, when they ready themselves for bed, Geralt doesn't hesitate to climb in next to Eskel, basking in the warmth that radiates off of him. He remembers nights when they were boys, camping out under the sky and pretending to be adventurers, knights. They would curl up together when it got too cold and he wishes he hadn't taken those times for granted. He'd give anything now to be able to cuddle up close to him and breathe in the comforting, still-familiar scent of him.

He lays quiet for a while in the dark, listening to every little hitch in Eske's breath, every groan when he moves wrong. He wants to reach out to him, to comfort him in any way he can, but without knowing how much would be welcome, he decides against it altogether.

But at some point during the night, Eskel shifts in his sleep, turning to lie on his side and Geralt wakes up with his head tucked under Eskel's chin and strong arms holding him. He wakes before the sunrise, letting himself enjoy the comfort of Eskel's body against his own, but as the sun streams in through the window, he disentangles himself and heads into the kitchen to make breakfast.

Without even checking, he knows Eskel's burns are healing quickly. He knows today will probably be the last he wakes up with Eskel in his bed and his heart is heavy as he prepares food for them. He tries not to think of their upcoming parting, knows that Eskel lives just down the road and they will still see each other, but Geralt will still miss him.

It's only been a few days, but he's been happy with Eskel here, even if he's spent most of the time trying to distance himself from him. He takes the food into the bedroom where Eskel is just sitting up and they eat quietly, but he can feel how badly Eskel wants to say something. Likely, he wants to know what's wrong and Geralt will inevitably lie about it, make up something about the house being too quiet without him around. But it doesn't matter what he says, because there's still a chance that Eskel's burns need treatment and if they do, he'll be staying a little longer.

Geralt doesn't hope for it, but he wouldn't be disappointed by it either.

He is disappointed upon unravelling Eskel's bandages, to find that most of the small buns have diminished to marks on the skin and when he touches them, Eskel confirms there's no pain. The worst of them are still red and uncomfortable, but they no longer inhibit his movement and Geralt barely holds back a sigh at the realization that Eskel is perfectly well enough to go home. And if that's the case, he'd rather do it sooner than later.

"You'll be happy to know they're healing quickly," Geralt says, rebandaging only the worst of the burns. "The remedy I got from the mage had worked wonders, but there's still some discolouration." The scars are lighter than Eskel's tanned skin, but Eskel just shrugs it off as he looks down at himself.

"I've got dozens of scars, a few more won't hurt."

"Suppose not," Geralt hums, tying off the last bandage around Eskel's thigh. He lets his hand slip, running down his inner thigh to rest on his knee. "They're healed well enough now that you'll be able to go home today."

He doesn't want Eskel to leave, not at all, but there doesn't seem to be much of a choice. Because Eskel no longer needs him, so there's no good reason for him to stay. Geralt sighs as he pulls away, but if Eskel notices, he doesn't mention it. Eskel watches him and Geralt almost thinks he looks disappointed (his own feelings getting away with him, he tells himself) but before he has a chance to do anything about it there's a knock at the door.

Geralt gets up to answer it, offering Eskel a half-smile as he goes. He doesn't want to seem down, but he's not looking forward to being alone in his little hut again, especially not after sharing a bed with Eskel for the last few nights. But when he opens the door, it seems Eskel will certainly be leaving him.

John, the farmer and Eskel's closest neighbour, is standing in front of him with a goat in his arms and she's squirming and bleating loudly. Geralt's surprised he didn't hear it before.

"Please tell me he's in good enough shape to come home," John says and gives Geralt a pleading look. "I don't mind looking after the goat, it's just she's… well, she's a demon to put it frankly."

Geralt opens his mouth to reply, but there's a huff of a laugh from behind him and he turns to find Eskel coming up behind him, pulling a shirt over his head. The goat squirms so hard John has to put her down and he's barely bent over before she's leaping from his arms and trotting over to Eskel, still shrieking loudly.

"Sorry," Eskel smiles, "she's attached." He bends down, running a hand along her back and sighs. "Guess that means we're heading home then, hm? Thank you, John," he adds lifting his head again. "I'll bring her home."

"I'll be heading home then," John says and once he's gone, Geralt shuts the door and turns to look at the goat, now happily lying on the floor and nibbling at one of his rugs.

Eskel is gone, but he returns a moment later with his boots, mostly unharmed by the accident.

"Well, I guess this is it. You can have your house back," Eskel smiles but the expression doesn't quite reach his eyes and Geralt desperately wants to tell him he doesn't want his house back. He wants to tell him he'll make space for the goat and he'll find somewhere for Eskel to sleep if he doesn't want to continue sharing and he-

"Thank you, Geralt, for everything. And don't tell me you'd do it for anyone, because we both know that's not true." He reaches out, resting a hand on Geralt's shoulder and his thumb just brushes against Geralt's neck. "I'll see you."

And just like that, Eskel is gone, heading out the door and back to his own home. Realistically, he just lives down the road, but he's never felt so far away and Geralt isn't quite sure what to do with himself. It's only been a few days but he's grown used to having Eskel around and he's not sure what he's going to do now without him.

He could go after him, tell him he doesn't want him to go, but what if Eskel does want to go home? What if all the little things Geralt has thought were hesitation were really something else? He doesn't want to risk his friendship with Eskel on a guess, so he lets him go and resigns himself to his chores.

The day passes slowly, but it's fine until Geralt turns in to go to bed. The room is still set up to care for someone and Geralt quickly makes the decision to tidy up before bed; it's one thing to come to bed missing someone, but it's a whole other to start your day that way. But clearing away the medicines and bandages doesn't help, because when he crawls into bed it smells like Eskel and Geralt can't help but press his face into the pillow, inhaling deeply.

He's not sure how it happened, or even when it happened, that his friendship with Eskel shifted into something more, something greedy and wanting, but he's never felt this way about anyone else. A part of him wishes it was anyone but Eskel.

For two days, Geralt's life returns to normal, for the most part. He's plagued by thoughts of Eskel and the memory of him in his bed, of his scent and his smile. But he gets through as he always has, reminding himself that it's better to have Eskel as a friend than not at all.

Then, on the third evening, since Eskel left, Geralt is in the kitchen boiling water for a tonic for the boy down the road when there's a knock on the door. Geralt sets the pot aside and pushes the grate up to keep the sparks in and crosses to the door wondering who could possibly want him so late. Another emergency, he supposes.

He's preparing himself for another sick child or an accident on the farm, but when he opens the door, Eskel is standing in front of him, a bouquet of flowers clutched in one hand. He smiles sheepishly and Geralt forgets for a second that he's supposed to greet visitors because he looks so shy.

"Eskel," he says and the confusion in his voice prompts a soft laugh from the other man.

"Can I come in?"

"Oh-" Geralt steps out of the way, eyeing the bouquet as Eskel slips past him.

To anyone unlearned in the meaning of flowers, it looks a little like a jumbled mess, but Geralt can tell there's a theme. Longing. Love. Hope. He knows the meanings of each one of those flowers and realizes with a start that it's a floral confession of love. His heart clenches to wonder who Eskel means to confess to, but he suspects he wants Geralt's help with the flowers and Geralt only wants the best for him.

Eskel shuts the door behind him and holds the bouquet in front of him, looking down at it as if ensuring it's good enough. Geralt is about to tell him it is, that the flowers are a little aesthetically jumbled, but that their meaning is clear when Eskel holds it up to him.

"I'm not very good with words," he says, reaching back to rub the back of his neck, "and you're not very good at picking up on things, but I thought this might be a little clearer."

"Eskel-?"

"I got the idea when you were telling me about your garden and I have a friend who knows about flowers. She helped me pick the right ones because I wanted it to be perfect."

Everything clicks into place at once and Geralt realizes he's been holding his breath. Slowly, he lets it out and considers very carefully what he wants to say before mumbling, "they're for me?"

Eskel nods and Geralt leans in, kissing him without thinking. He pulls back as soon as he realizes what he's done, but Eskel's already got a hand on his waist and he draws him back again, kissing him softly but firmly. Geralt shifts against him, giving in with a soft sigh and wrapping his arms around Eskel's neck. Gently, Eskel lays the flowers down on the table and puts his other hand on Geralt's waist, holding him against him as he kisses him.

It's soft, softer than anyone has ever kissed him before, but there's an urgency behind it, a desperation that speaks of years of longing. Eskel's hands slip up under his shirt and Geralt hums against his lips, parting his own to deepen the kiss as Eskel pulls him closer. For a few, glorious moments, Geralt knows nothing but Eskel's mouth against his own, his hands on his skin, and when they break apart, he finds it hard to breathe.

"I should see how you're healing," Geralt breathes and Eskel grins at him, tipping forward to press a brief kiss to his lips.

"Mm, of course," he agrees, tugging his shirt out of his trousers and pulling it up over his head. It falls to the floor unneeded and Eskel gets his hands back on Geralt's waist, guiding him back toward the bedroom, the implications of which are too much for him to think about right now.

Eskel sits himself down on the bed and Geralt crosses to stand between his knees, looking down at him. He runs his fingers over the discoloured skin, now nearly completely healed, and makes a note to ask Mara about her potion. But Eskel grows impatient with him quickly and in only a few minutes, Geralt finds himself tugged down into Eskel's lap.

"'M fine," he says softly, "thanks to you." He kisses Geralt's cheek, his jaw, his neck.

"Not me," Geralt hums, tipping his head back to give Eskel better access to his neck. "Mara made the potion."

"Mmm, but you got it for me. You cared for me. You loved me." Geralt starts at that, pulling back to look at Eskel. Almost immediately there's a hand on his cheek, rough but gentle. "Hey," Eskel whispers, "I love you, too. Have for a long time."

"I love you," Geralt breathes and the words feel foreign on his tongue, like somebody else is using his voice. He never expected to say those words out loud, much less to have Eskel smiling back at him.

Eskel kisses him again, soft and slow, and Geralt lets himself melt into it. He slips forward, straddling his lap and smiling against his mouth. Abruptly, he's hauled up and Eskel readjusts them so he can lie back against the pillows, pulling Geralt down on top of him.

It doesn't strike him until Eskel's hands are working their way under his shirt again, that he's allowed to touch, that Eskel wants him to, if past experiences are anything to judge by. He breaks the kiss, nosing at Eskel's neck before kissing down to his collarbone. He traces his fingertips along the edges of Eskel's scars, kissing the paler skin with reverence. Geralt pours all of his love into the soft kisses, everything he's wanted to say for years and felt he was unable and as Eskel's hands slip into his hair, he hums softly against the skin.

Eskel moans softly under him, pressing up into each kiss and winding his fingers between Geralt's against his hip. He holds him close even as Geralt dips lower, following the burn marks down to Eskel's stomach and the waistband of his trousers. He only detangles their fingers to get Eskel's trousers undone and once they're off and out of the way, Eskel reaches for him again. Geralt gives a little squeeze of his hand, a reassurance mostly meant for himself as he shifts down the bed and settles himself between Eskel's thighs.

He slides his free arm around Eskel's thigh, tipping his face to kiss along the line of the burn. His left leg is better off than his right, but Geralt picks out every little mark, kissing them individually as he makes his way down. Above him, Eskel groans and Geralt can feel his arousal in every little shift of his hips, of his legs, in the way his fingers clench around his own. There's a peace that washes over him knowing that this is what Eskel wants too; out of all the people he's met in his life, Geralt is the one he wants and it feels something like relief.

Geralt continues, diverting from his task to kiss Eskel's thighs, nipping at the soft skin and running his tongue over it. Eskel moans softly, spreading his legs and then he's reaching down, tugging Geralt's shirt up over his head. Eskel's fingers brush along his shoulders and the side of his neck, soft and tentative, and he lets Geralt linger for a while longer before hauling him up so they're chest-to-chest.

He kisses him again, harder this time and as Geralt shifts to get comfortable, he can feel the hard line of Eskel's cock against his stomach. His own cock twitches in his trousers.

"Gods," Eskel whispers, running his thumb over Geralt's lip, "you have no idea how badly I want you, how tempting it was with you sleeping right beside me." He rests his hands on Geralt's hips, slipping down over the swell of his ass and guides his hips forward, rocking up against him.

"Tell me," Geralt mumbles, "what you wanted."

"Mm," Eskel hums, "you looked so soft and sweet next to me, I just wanted to touch you, to get you hard. I wanted to roll you onto your side and slip up behind you. I'd take such good care of you, fuck you so well, sweetheart."

"Please," Geralt whispers, but he's breathless and the word comes out broken. Eskel doesn't need to be asked twice.

He rolls them over, shifting onto his knees over Geralt to fumble with the ties of Geralt's trousers before shoving a hand inside and wrapping around his cock. Geralt's already half-hard but it doesn't take much to bring him to full hardness with Eskel's mouth hot and demanding against his own and a strong, calloused hand stroking him.

Eskel nips at his lips and Geralt shifts, pressing his hips up and pushing between Eskel's fingers. He rolls his hips and fucks into Eskel's hand, moaning against his lips as Eskel's fingers slip lower on his prick until he's wrapped around the base of him and tracing the vein on the underside with his thumb. When he finally slips up again, he rings his fingers just beneath the head of Geralt's cock, squeezing tightly around him.

He lets Geralt fuck his fingers and Geralt wraps his arms around his neck, happy enough to have Eskel's hands on him. But it gets too restrictive, his trousers are in the way and he wants to spread his legs, to fuck up properly. Eskel seems to notice and he pulls off of Geralt's cock to rid him of them.

As soon as Geralt's fully naked, Eskel presses in close right up against his side. He traces his fingertips down the length of Geralt's cock, his lips hovering just above Geralt's and then, as Eskel's fingers slip down to cup his balls, Geralt groans and Eskel smiles.

"Mm, good?" he asks and Geralt nods, whining softly as Eskel's fingertips press into the sensitive flesh. He rocks into the touch and Eskel's lips drag across his jaw and up to his ear, nibbling at the lobe and nosing behind it.

"You're so beautiful," Eskel whispers, "I love you." He kisses behind his ear, moving down Geralt's neck to nibble at his shoulder. "I want to make you feel good."

Geralt shuts his eyes as Eskel's mouth finds his own again and then Eskel's fingers are slipping down, pressing back behind his balls and teasing at his hole. He shudders and Eskel's free arms lips under his neck, wrapping around so his fingers brush across his jaw.

"Okay?" he asks and Geralt nods, sliding a hand into his hair.

"Please, Eskel, I-"

"Shh," he whispers, "I know love, I've got you."

He presses further and Geralt opens to him, spreading his legs and shifting to give Eskel better access. He wants him, wants this and it still doesn't feel real that he's allowed to have it. But Eskel is soft against him, even his fingers, calloused and rough feel gentle on his face and Geralt tips his head to the side, kissing his fingertips.

Eskel holds him, rubs over his hole, whispering against Geralt's ear. He's only half listening, but it doesn't matter what he's saying because it's Eskel. Geralt just likes the sound of his voice, regardless of the words, so deep and rough yet somehow still soft. He shuts his eyes and focuses on Eskel's voice, on his hands, moaning and pressing back onto Eskel's fingers.

"Eskel," he breathes, "please, I want you."

"I know. Where's the oil?"

Geralt groans. The oil is back where it belongs, tucked away in his cabinet in the other room and Geralt regrets ever putting it away. Reluctantly, he pulls out of Eskel's arms and climbs off the bed. Eskel hums appreciatively as he crosses the room and Geralt smiles to himself. He can feel eyes on him all the way out of the room and even as he ducks into the kitchen, careful to avoid the windows.

When he turns back, oil in hand, Eskel is leaning up on one elbow, watching him with a soft smile on his face.

"What?" Geralt asks.

"You're so beautiful, do you know that? You were always the best looking of us but you really got pretty."

"Shut up," Geralt mumbles, but when he reaches the edge of the bed, Eskel reaches up around the back of his neck and tugs him into a brief kiss.

"'M serious. You're so fucking gorgeous, Geralt." He kisses him again, tugging him closer and Geralt climbs onto the bed, deepening the kiss as Eskel moans softly against him. This time, Geralt ignores his words, despite the heat that spreads through his chest, kissing him deeply instead.

Eskel rearranges them with ease, maneuvering Geralt onto his back again and pressing up against his side. Immediately, he reaches down, stroking him slowly without breaking the kiss. He takes the bottle of oil from Geralt and pops the cork, spilling it over his fingers. He wraps around Geralt's cock, stroking right up to the head and rubbing his thumb beneath the head before slipping back down again.

Geralt moans as Eskel's fingers slip down between his legs, pressing back against his hole. He's less patient this time, pressing against him and pushing inside just a little before withdrawing. Eskel's fingers are thick and stretch with every press and Geralt drops his head back against his chest with a groan.

"You okay?" Eskel asks and Geralt nods.

"'S good."

"Good," Eskel leans in, lips brushing against his earlobe as he whispers, "I want you to come on my fingers before I fuck you." Geralt groans, but then Eskel's pressing into him again and he turns his face into Eskel's neck, breathing against his skin. "There you go, sweetheart, just lay back and let me make you feel good. You took care of me, now it's my turn."

Geralt wants to tell him that there's a huge difference between this and that, but Eskel pushes deeper and the protest dies on his lips. Eskel kisses the groan from his lips as he presses a second finger into him and Gerlt rocks enthusiastically back onto him. Eskel is incredibly good with his hands, pressing in and stretching him, and Geralt is breathless where he leans against him, groaning against his lips.

Eskel is above him, behind him, all around, mumbling soft words into his hair and against his lips and Geralt has never felt so wanted in his life. He shudders and lets out a soft little moan as Eskel presses a third finger against his rim and tips his head back.

"Eskel," he groans, "please, come on."

"Not gonna rush, sweetheart, don't wanna hurt you."

Geralt groans. He's seen Eskel's cock, gotten up close and personal with it and has been dying for a chance to get it inside him. He doesn't want to wait, he wants Eskel to fuck him. But as much as he rocks down or squeezes around him, Eskel isn't letting up. He adds a third finger and Geralt bites down on his bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud.

"Don't have to be quiet for me," Eskel hums, "I like hearing you."

"Fuck."

"Mmm, that's right." Eskel presses his nose into his ear, nibbling at the skin of his neck. "Tell me how it feels, Geralt."

"Good," he mumbles, "but I want you."

"You've got me. Always."

Eskel gives a good couple of thrusts, then presses in with just two fingers, seeking out that spot inside him and rubbing against it. Geralt squirms against him, writhing as Eskel plays with him and then he withdraws altogether.

"Roll over," he whispers, nudging Geralt with his knee. Geralt turns onto his front and he's still settling when Eskel climbs over him, kissing his neck and pushing the hair aside.

He moves down Geralt's back, kissing a line down his spine and sucking at the skin. It sends shivers through him and Geralt can't help but rock his hips down, grinding against the mattress as Eskel's hand drops to hold his hips. He huffs a soft laugh against Geralt's lower back and then he's moving lower, one hand slipping between his cheeks and pressing back in.

Geralt buries his face in the pillow, gathering it under his face and moaning into it as Eskel fucks him with his fingers again. He's quick and hard but somehow still gentle, lips sliding softly over his skin until Eskel's thrusts slow and his mouth moves to join in.

The first press of Eskel's tongue against his rim has Geralt pulling up on his knees, thighs spread to give him better access and Eskel huffs against him. He slides a hand down Geralt's thigh, steadying him as he pulls his fingers out, and licks over the stretched muscle.

"Think you can come like this instead?" he asks and Geralt nods. He's sure of it.

His cock is already leaking steadily onto the sheets, hard and aching, and every press of Eskel's tongue sends him rocking forward, eager for any sort of friction. And when those thick fingers wrap around him again, Geralt could cry. He rocks forward immediately, rutting into the tunnel of Eskel's hand and pressing back against his tongue.

Then Eskel pushes in and Geralt cries out into the pillow. Rough stubbles scratches against his cheeks, a stark contrast to the slick smoothness of Eskel's tongue pressing inside and he's mindless as pleasure sparks through him. Geralt whimpers and rocks back, overwhelmed by so much sensation, until his hips stutter, unable to move fast enough to keep up with the need. But Eskel pulls him up, gripping around the base of his cock and thrusting in with his tongue.

Geralt whimpers, unable to do anything other than take what Eskel is offering. His legs shake under him, the coil of heat in his gut tightening until he almost can't stand it. He's so close, he just needs a little more. Eskel wants him to come like this and Geralt wants to, wants to shatter apart under his hands, and have Eskel put him back together again afterward. He whines and bucks, vaguely aware of Eskel rising up to cover him then Eskel strokes him again, slow and steady and he pushes him over the edge.

"That's it, sweetheart, fuck, you look pretty like this."

Geralt fists his hands in the pillow, hips jerking abortively as he spills all over his sheets. Eskel moves again, continuing to stroke him as he comes and then he's pulling away, readjusting to get an arm around his waist as Geralt's legs nearly give out on him.

"Fuck," he whines and Eskel guides him down against the mattress, humming softly against his skin.

"Yeah," Eskel agrees. He runs his hands up Geralt's back, slowly lowering himself over him until they're pressed chest to back and Geralt can feel Eskel's breath against his skin.

"Mm," Geralt mumbles, "you didn't come. Want you to fuck me." Geralt pushes his hips up and Eskel slides his hands up, letting his full weight rest on Geralt and twining their fingers together. He shifts his hips so his cock fits perfectly against Geralt's ass, pushing between his cheeks with each little movement.

"Just like this?"

"Yeah. Wanna feel you." He loves the weight of Eskel's body against him and he wants to make him come, and he wants to keep as close to him as he can.

"Tell me if it's too much," Eskel hums and then he's pulling one hand away, reaching down to adjust himself. Geralt holds his breath as the head of Eskel's cock presses against him and then he's pushing in, stretching him impossibly further and filling him up. He pauses before he's fully seated and Geralt shifts his hips, wiggling encouragingly.

"Don't wanna hurt you," Eskel mumbles and he sounds breathless already.

"You won't." Geralt can already hear the rebuttal, so he pushes his hips back, pushing all the way onto him, and Eskel drops his head between his shoulder blades.

"Fuck," he whines and Geralt just hums and tips his head to kiss Eskel's fingers where they're wrapped around his own.

Eskel gives a short roll of his hips, testing Geralt's readiness and pushes right up against his prostate. Geralt whines and his cock stirs beneath him where it presses into the bedding. It's sensitive, but it feels good and Geralt exaggerates the motion when Eskel thrusts into him again.

He keeps an even pace to start, slow enough not to hurt him, despite Geralt's assurances that he won't, but quick enough to keep him happy. And gods, he could stay like this for hours, pressed against the mattress as Eskel fucks into him. It feels like a dream, one of those he thought could never possibly come true, and yet with every thrust, Eskel mumbles against his skin, kisses him, holds him close against him. And Geralt didn't think he'd be able to come again, but his cock swells again, needy and wanting beneath him.

Then Eskel is shifting behind him, rising up to his knees and pulling Geralt up into his lap with him. He slips a hand around his chest, tweaking his nipples and sliding down his stomach. His fingers brush the base of his cock and Eskel hesitates before slipping down further, following the curve of his cock.

"Mmm, you're hard again," he hums, burying his face in Geralt's neck. "You want to come again, sweetheart?" Geralt doesn't respond, but Eskel's fingers are already wrapping around him again, stroking him in time with his thrusts and Geralt couldn't stop him even if he wanted to.

He settles his hands back on the bed, leaning back against Eskel's chest and turning to kiss him. The angel is awkward, but he catches his lips, groaning as Eskel takes the opportunity to slide his free hand up the inside of Geralt's thigh. He's already worked up and the faint brush is overwhelming.

He squirms under Eskel's fingers, but they just drag further up, teasing around Eskel's cock where it breaches him.

"Please," Geralt whispers and he's not even sure what he's asking for, but then Eskel presses one finger alongside his cock and Geralt's eyes roll back in his head. He's vaguely aware that he's mumbling, asking him for more, asking him to come, and Eskel holds him against his chest, kissing his shoulders and his neck.

"Come on," he whispers, "come for me, Geralt."

It doesn't take much after that, with Eske's hand around him and one pressing into him before he's coming again, a choked-off moan on his lips. Both of Eskel's hands leave him as he rides it out, wrapping around his middle.

Eskel fucks him quick and hard, panting against Geralt's ear.

"Love you," he mumbles, "gods, Geralt, you're so beautiful, so good for me-"

Eskel comes with Geralt's name on his lips, pressing his forehead against his shoulder and burying himself deep inside him. He shudders as he comes, hips twitching, and Geralt reaches a hand back to wrap around his neck.

For a moment they sit together, panting, and then Eskel flops to the side, pulling Geralt down with him. Geralt shifts to get comfortable, letting Eskel pull him up against his side so he can rest his head on his chest. The sheets are damp with sweat and come, but Geralt has never been so comfortable as he is in Eskel's arms.

"Could I stay?" Eskel hums, nosing into his hair.

"Of course," Geralt smiles, "as long as you want."

"Still got Lil' Bleater to get home to eventually, but I don't want to leave tonight."

"Could put a goat pen in the back corner of the garden," Geralt yawns, "there's lots of space if we move the fall plants to where the herbs are." Eskel pushes himself up, looking down at him.

"Geralt?" he asks tentatively, "are you- are you asking me to move in with you?"

"I- if it's not too much trouble going back and forth to the forge?" he reaches up, running a hand through Eskel's hair. "I didn't realize how much I'd miss you until you were gone again. I don't want you to leave again."

"You might get sick of me," he teases but his lips curl up in a smile and he smooths his hand across Geralt's stomach.

"I doubt it, it's been thirty years and I'm not sick of you yet."

"Thirty-" he starts but cuts himself off. "Yeah, okay. Guess we'll be building in the morning then, hm?"

"No," Geralt hums, tugging Eskel against him and curling back against his side. "Tomorrow we're moving plants, then we can build a goat pen."

six months later

For months, Geralt has been blissfully happy. He didn't think he'd ever get to be like this, but having Eskel living with him has been everything he could hope for and then some. They've even gotten another goat to keep Lil' Bleater occupied and Eskel has been talking about breeding them and selling goats. It's not a well-thought-out plan, but Geralt entertains it because Eskel's ideas usually turn out well for them and he wants Eskel to be as happy as he is.

But recently Eskel has been distant. He's always busy at the forge making something for someone, but lately, he's been spending more and more time there, coming home long after Geralt is asleep and leaving almost immediately after they wake up. And Geralt has his own business to attend to, so he tries not to let it bother him too much, but he can't help wondering.

Maybe Eskel is tired of spending so much time together, maybe he needs a break. On bad days, Geralt will wonder if there's someone else, but Eskel always comes home smelling of coal and singed hair, and that helps to settle Geralt's worries.

Then one morning he wakes up and Eskel isn't in bed at all. His side of the bed is still untouched from the night before and his first thought is that something happened to him again. Geralt rolls out of bed, fumbling to get dressed as he stumbles into the kitchen and out onto the road.

The forge isn't far, and he makes good time, running half the way in his rush to ensure Eskel is okay. And when he arrives, he shoves the door open to find… Eskel is fine. He's leaning over a table at the back of the shop and when he hears Geralt he turns to look at him.

He looks… fine and Geralt feels like an idiot for rushing up here. He's breathless, leaning in the doorway and Eskel smiles when he sees him, crossing the shop.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, ducking down to kiss him briefly, "and in my shirt, no less?" Geralt looks down to find he is, indeed, wearing Eskel's shirt and he shrugs.

"You didn't come home last night, I was worried something had happened to you." The smile fades from Eskel's face and he shuts his eyes.

"Shit," he mumbles, "I'm sorry Geralt, I got carried away. I didn't mean to worry you." He takes Geralt's hands in his own, bringing them close to his face and kissing his knuckles. "I've been working on something special, something important. I thought it was too early, but maybe,-" he shrugs and smiles, "do you want to come see?"

Geralt nods and Eskel leads him back to the table at the back of the room. There doesn't seem to be anything there, but Eskel picks up a small velvet bag and opens it, tipping the contents into his palm. From here, Geralt can't tell what it is, but as Eskel gets closer, he realizes it's a ring.

"Can I-?" he asks, reaching out a hand and when Eskel nods, he picks it up and inspects it. It's beautifully crafted, delicate flowers inlaid in the band, honeysuckle, he thinks, everlasting bonds, happiness - a wedding ring, most likely. "It's beautiful."

"It's for you," Eskel says and Geralt's heart stops for a moment. "If you'll have it. If you'll have me."

"Eskel-"

"Just… you have made me happier than I've ever been, Geralt and I can't imagine spending the rest of my life without you. Marry me?"

"Yes," Geralt says before the rest of him can catch up. He doesn't even have a chance to think before Eskel is surging forward and scooping him up into his arms.

He kisses him softly, slowly, only pulling back to take the ring from Geralt's hand. He slips it onto his finger and slips his fingers between Geralt's, tipping forward to kiss him again. There's a weight to the ring, but it feels like comfort, like that first time Eskel touched him. Geralt smiles against his lips, bringing his free hand up to slip through Eskel's hair.

He can't believe that a year ago, he was silently pining over this man and now he's looking forward to spending the rest of his life with him.

#geralt x eskel #herbalist!geralt #blacksmith!eskel #spicy #rex writes

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