#still not over how the backing anim for this skin has her patting the lil strawbeary butler on the head

[ichiro-artosaki]

cafe cuties sivir, my beloved 🥺 

[slasherrabbitmadness]

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...

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

[astheroid]

Ka-Kacchan 😫💦 (Bakugouwu x reader SMUT 🤯)

Author-chan here!!!!!! I decided to write for my bb Kacchan bc hes just such a cutie >.< hehe anyways ENJOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I walked into the hero association with my long Blonde hair flowing in the wind. “SARAH!!” Deku called, walking over to me. “Baka-Deku, what do you wabt?” I asked, making a cute face. “I heard Kacchan wants youuuuu” he said raising his green puffy eyebrows. “Ka-Kacchan?? Why.. why would he ever want me?” I asked, batting my bright blue eyes in his directuon. “I do not know Sara-chan” he answered, blushing bright red. “I think… he might have a crush on you” I GASPED!! (author’s note: UwU OMGGG IT’S GETTING ~SPICYYYY~) I smiled sweetly at deku before hopping over to Bakugou, flipping my hair over m shoulder. “Ohio K-Kacchan, what do you want?” I said, trying to be tough. He glared at me pomeranian hair sticking up as I touched him. “NOTHING YOU BITCH!!” He yelled, shoving me. I started crying. “BAKA-KUGOU WHY DID YOU DO THAT????” I yelled. He lookd at me. “Idk you’re just ugly.” He said and walked away. I touched my frail wrist and realized it was broken. I went to the doctor’s and got it fixed, mad at Kacchan te whole way. I saw Kacchan after work and went to be mad at him. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?????” I screamed activating my Ice Quirk. “You’RE JUST AN UGLY STUPID EXTRA!!” Ye glared at me, hands booming. “IF I’M SO UGLU WHY DO YOU LIKE MEEEE?????/?” I yelled in his face. He gasped and tears fell from his eyes. “BAKAaAaAaAAAA HOW DO U KNOW THAT?” He said. “I know because your always mean to me :(“ I pouted. He said “t-th-that’s not t-true BAKA-SARAAH.” I grinned menacingly with my fangs. “Of course it’s true Ba-kacchan” “Don’t call me that” he said, blushing. “Ba-kacchan” I said again, my own cheeks getting red against my pale skin. He grabbed my arm “let’s go to my house and see if you wan’t to call me that again Baka-Sarah-chan”. (author’s note: OMGGGGGGG SMUT COMING SOON!!! TANK U FOR READING THIS FAR!!! Should I make a Deku-chan one next? He’s my lil beann and I wanna write 4 him :3)

UwU SMUTTTTTTTTTT BWLOE THE CUT!!!! Skip if you want but its my favorit part ;3

We arrived at his house and no-one was home, it was just me and Kacchan (author’s note: SPICYYYYYY whatr you gonna do bakacchan O///O). He threw me on his bed and took off his shirt (author’s note: MMM HIS STOMACH I’M DROOLING ;w;). He pushed me down and went to the bathroom, when he came out he had no pants too!! I was surprised by his cream stick poking through his underwear. “Take off ur clothes baka” he huffed face very red. I pouted. “Make me Ba-Kacchan”. He growled ferally nd ripped mt clothes off my body. I gasped, pale Skin getting goosebumps. “There I made you” he said rolling his eyes. I blushed very hard. “Now let me show u what happens when you call me Ba-kacchan >:(“ (autho’rs note: *w* OMGOMGOMGOMG IT’S HAPPENING GUYSSS!! YOUR AUTHOR-CHAN IS SOOOO EXCITED!!!). He took off his Dog undies and I saw… A HUGE DING-DONG!!! He put it inside me and moved quickly. I moaned “OoOoOoOoOoOoOoHhHhHhHHHH Ka-Kacchan… go faster!!” He went faster, grumbling my name. After a bit he took his member out and Spat on me. “That’s why u don’t call me Ba-Kacchan Bitch”. I layed on his bed amd panted; legs too weak to stand up. He put his pants over his meat scepter and grinned at me. “I hope you learned your lesson Baka-Sarah”.

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Smut done :(((( Stay to read the rest tho!!!

I stayed in his house for 30 minutes before leaveing. “B-bye k-k-Kacchan” I stuttered. My legs were still wobbly. I went home and jumped on my bed dreaming of Kacchan railing me again ;). When I woke up I felt really sick and threw up in the bathroom. ‘Oh no……’ I thought. WAS I PREGANTE????? (author’s note: OOHHHHHHHHHHH DRAAAMAAAAA!!! Hehe it gets so exciting) I rushed to the store to buy a test, completely forgetting about my job as a Hero. I gasped at the test. ‘I’m… Perngant??’ I touched my belly. ‘I have Ba-kacchan’s baby in here…” ‘I have to call him’. I called and talked to him on the phone. “K-Kacchan” I stuttered “I got pragnent!” He gasped. “F*ck. Are u gonna keep it?” I gasped. “OF COURSE!!!!! I CAN”T KILL OUR BABY!!!!!!!!!” (author’s note: OMGEEEE THEY’RE FIGHTING 🥺🥺🥺) Kacchan sobbed. “I DON’T HAVE ENOUGH MONEY TO PAY FOR A KID!!” “YOU DON’T NEED TO, I CAN!!!! I DOUN’T NEED YOU ANYWAYS!!!!” I screamed, crying too. He left the call and I cried harder. Idk what to do with a BABY. He came to my house. He crossed his arms madly. “We need to kill the baby.” “NO I CAN’T DO THAT!!” I screamed (author’s note: OoOoOoOoOh THEY’RE GOING THRU IT!!!!!). “Why not????????” He pouted. His hands sparked. “THAT’S MURDER BA-KACCHAN!!!” My long Silky hair whipped around as I yelled up at him. He tried to hit my stomach, but I dodged and Froze him in placee. “DON’T HIT ME BAKA-KUGOU!!!!!!!!” I screamed. “STOP TYRING TO MURDER O U R CHILD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” He huffed. “I DON’T WANT A STUPID KID WITH A WHORE LIKE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!” I gasped loudly. “I’M NOT A WHORE YOU’RE JUST A JERK!!!!!” He burst out of the ice and kissed me. “I don’t want a crusty crotch goblin to ruin our relationship” “He won’t I promise” I said blushing Red and patting my tummy. He sighed loudly. “Ok fine we can keep the cum droplet I just don’t wanna pay” I smiled “OK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” “So……. will you marry me?” I gasped suuuper loud “OF COURSE BAKUGOU!!!!! I LOVE U!!!”

TIMESKIP!!!!!!!! UwU I loveeee this story so far; hope u guys like it too ;3

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We ended up having 8 babys. I’m the #1 hero (author’s note: Deku is too baby to be a hero 🥺 I think Strong reader-chan is better for that >:3) and Kacchan is my sidekick. Our kids have the strongst quirks in the world!!!1!!! Ray Andy Mei Akira Bobby David & Deku Jr have explosion-Ice quirks, but Maya (author’s note: Maya is my faaavoriteeee UvU) has A SUPER POWERFUL ICE QUIRK (just like her mama)!!!!!! We lived a very happy nice life after that and had a ton of money!!

BONUS SMUT!!!!!!!!!!!! Hehe I wanted to do a lil extra ~spicy~ something as a reward for reading this far >wO

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Kacchan plugged me up with his thicc Pleasure Pump. I whined “KA-KACCHAN YOU’RE TOO BIG~” He didn’t listen and kept going pounding me into the wall. There was a collar around my neck (author’s note: K!NKYYYYYY~~~~~) and my Face was mushd into the wall. He kept going for quite some time until he hit something in me. I scREAMED “OOOOHHHHHH KACCHAN THAT’S ITtTtTTTTttttTTTT~~~” he grunted and pushed harder. His manhood felt so GOOOOOOD. (author’s note: I kinda want Bakugouwu to @#!% me if u know what i mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)) He did it until he Cummed; taking it out so we wouldn’t have more babys.

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HEHEHEHEHEHHEHHEEEE THAT WAS SO HOT *w*. ANYWAYSSS HERE’S AN AUTHOR-CHAN QnA!!!!!!!

Favorite food: BAKUGOU UwU

Favorite character: BBY DEKU!!!! He’s MINE get away Broke Uraraka >:((((

Favorite color: Anything but pink :/ soooo cringy

Favorite Anime: MY HERO OBV!!!

Ships: Me x my hero boysss 🤤 the girls are all dumb and gay is sin :^/

Next chapter????:

NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Deku stared at us jelously. “I-I don’t understand… I…. I really like you Sarah-Chan!!! Why did u have to choose Kacchan 🥺” I looked at him sadly. “He got me pregnent Deku-chan I had toooo” He looked at Bakugou mad. “You took my crush away from me Kacchan…….” Kacchan yelled at him “SHE’S MINE SO BACK OFF BAKA-DEKUUUUU!!!!!!!!” Deku started cryeing and looked at me for help “She was supposed to be MY wife Mean Kacchan :(“ Bakugou laughed. “NO CHANCE LOSER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The next chapter will be coming out sooooon :D I hope you guys liked!!!!! It’s gonna be so good and even a little smutty *o* n e wAys, catch all you lil reader-chan beans l8ter!!!

Last updated: April 1, 2016

[This is 100% a joke and not a real representation of my writing skills. Happy April Fools ;D]

[the-silentium]

Murphy day - Epilogue

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 -  The survivor

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader, Hunter x Reader

Words: 2708 words

Warnings: None.

A/N: This side story became a prologue, so y’all enjoy this lil piece of fluff. If you guys have requests or ideas for some side stories, don’t hesitate to ask!

Taglist: @haloangel391​

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

"Today's the day!" Wrecker exclaimed excitedly, opening the door so quickly that it hit the wall before bouncing back to hit his arm. 

Unbothered, he pushed the door back to approach your frightened form on the bed to hit your shoulder playfully. 

"Ready to return to the ship, pilot?" He laughed like this was the funniest joke of the universe. Well. In a sense it was. 

"I'm discharged?" You asked, hopeful to finally get out of the medbay. Patch and Mylana have been very kind from day one and you were eternally grateful for their support through your healing process. But you were ready to get away from the white walls, bacta smells and occasional nocturnal pain screams down the hallway.

"You are!" He confirmed, placing a pile of neatly folded clothes with your clean boots on the bed beside your folded legs. "Crosshair got you some clothes." 

Your eyebrows shot to your hairline, well, what remained of it. To reduce the swelling of your brain they had to shave some of your hair to access the skull so Mylana offered to do a sidecut to save the remaining of your hair and make you a bit more fashionable. You were glad that you accepted, the style definitely suited you and the appreciative look you received from a certain sergeant made you forget what the word 'insecurity' meant. Added to your apparent scar, you looked badass. 

"Is there another Crosshair on base? 'Cause I don't think we're talking about the same Cross." You maintained his gaze, bewildered. 

Sure, the sniper had warmed up a bit to you. He came to visit, rarely, but still came nonetheless. He didn't talk much but his company was enough. He usually brought you holobooks about ships, from their mechanics to how to fly them. 

He'd sometimes talk about some of his flying experience or recall some pranks he and Wrecker pulled on the regs if you sighed from boredom enough times. Oh and he brought you a tiny cup of caf one time. Tiny victories. 

But to get you clothes? That you noticed were the right size? You must have done a lot more progress than you thought. 

"Yeah. Said the gown would smell bacta." He bent over to sniff near your shoulder. "And he's not wrong." 

You rolled your eyes, pushing his shoulder away.

"Fine. Wait outside, I'll change." 

With a salute, he exited the room and closed the door slowly this time. 

You grabbed the clothes, quickly pulled the socks on, followed by the black cargo pants. You admired in awe the lots and lots of pockets and immediately thought how many things you could put in them. Your own cargo pants didn't even have that many pockets. You swiftly removed the gown, folded it in a ball before throwing it in the basket in the corner of the room, cheering silently when you aimed right at your first attempt. Your arm really got better in the last 2 weeks the cast has been off. 

You traced the scars on your inner arm and abdomen, your proofs that you survived hell and came back stronger. With a smile, you pulled on the grey long sleeve shirt Crosshair chose for you. You pulled up the sleeves a bit until they reached just below your elbow and stepped in your boots to hurriedly get out. 

"Looking good Y/N!" Wrecker whistled looking you up and down, catching the attention of the nurses office. 

"I have to agree with that." Came Mylana's voice, admiration in her eyes as she nodded with a grin.

"It's all thanks to you." You winked at her, passing a hand through your shaved side, carefully avoiding your sensitive scar. 

"I dare to think that I did a good job with those stitches. I should have some credits." Patch appeared from around the corner, datapad in hands. 

"You did and I can't thank you enough!" You laughed, hugging him when he opened his arms. 

"You're welcome. Take care of yourself. No jumping off cliffs again." He chided, letting you go with a pat on your shoulder to join the nurse station. 

"I will! And I fell! Big difference!" You countered, earning a scoff with a shake of his head. 

"Well, this is goodbye until next time then! Although it would be nice if you weren't injured." Mylana hugged you, her hand softly patting your back. 

"I'll be careful mom." You snarked, chuckling. "See ya Lana! Take care!" You jogged to join Wrecker who took a head start. 

He walked you through the medbay, walked a long hallway and finally showed you the hangar where you spotted a familiar ship stationed at the far end. You took a deep breath in, letting out a moan at the smell of fresh air, oil and smoke. 

"I missed this." You informed Wrecker, arms open wide at your side to feel the breeze stroking your exposed skin. 

"I know what you mean." He resumed walking, glancing at you as you followed. "I was in the medbay for a month for that." He reminded you, pointing at his scar on the side of his face. 

"I was in there for three." You deadpanned, looking around to take in the clones moving crates around and the mechanics repairing ships. 

Before you knew it, you reached the ship where Hunter was waiting down the ramp. 

"Looking good." He approved, the smirk deforming his tattoo, the sight of which sent tingles to your fingertips. 

You remembered all too well the day Hunter fulfilled the one condition you asked for. 

"That's what I said!" Wrecker said, passing you to enter the ship. 

"Welcome aboard the Havoc Marauder." Hunter became more serious, his hand presenting you the interior of the vessel. 

You followed his lead, taking in all the information he gave you about the ship while creating a mental map of the structure and rooms. 

You weren't surprised when he showed you your cot, a small bed pushed against the far wall of a room where two sets of bunks were occupying the side walls. You quickly figured that a ship had very limited spacing and that you would sleep near them all. You weren't a fan of sleeping in your underwear anyway, the lack of clothing making you feel vulnerable. 

"Here." Hunter caught back your attention, a well-known knife and tap in his open hands. 

You took them back, eager to be your whole self again. Pocketing the tap, you traced the old tree carved in the wood of the knife handle, finding a deep comfort in the movement. 

"What does it represent?" He asked, genuinely curious. "The tree." 

"It's my family's crest. We've always been close to the jungle." You smiled, remembering the day your dad offered you the knife. "This knife has been passed down for many generations now-" 

You frowned at the light bleating sound echoing through the ship. This was unusual. 

"What was that?" You asked and when you turned around, Tech and Crosshair were in the doorway. You slipped the knife onto the nearby bed. 

"That? Nothing." Tech replied too nonchalantly. 

"You took him too?" Your eyes widen as a small green horned Shinehorn poked its head between Crosshair's legs. 

Your face broke into a smile as you fell to your knees to receive the excited animal into your arms. You patted his head and scratched its sides, stopping when Tech closed Shiny's mouth when he started to make happy noises. 

"He slipped in when we weren't looking. And he's not supposed to be here." He informed you, releasing Shiny slowly to make sure be wouldn't start babbling again. 

"Oh. Okay." You stood up. "Are you guys keeping him?" 

"Unfortunately, if the GAR finds him he'll be thrown away. So we have to take him back." Tech explained to your disappointment. 

"It'll be your first flight. Without pressure, perfect to practice. Tech will be there to help you." Hunter told you, watching closely for your reaction. 

"Cool! I feel ready for this." You affirmed, confident. Every day for two months you prepared yourself. You were ready for a first practical test. Your hands shot to your pockets by habit, reminding you of something. 

"Crosshair!" You exclaimed to everyone's surprise. You almost laughed at their slightly wide eyes. "Thanks for the clothes! I love them!" You flashed him a toothy grin, bouncing from your toes to your heels. 

"You're welcome." He grumbled, moving his signature toothpick in his mouth, snapping his fingers and leaving the room. To your surprise, Shiny followed Crosshair diligently, his tail straight up in the air, alert to Crosshair's commands. 

You watched him go and disappear around the corner, eyes wide, mouth slightly open in shock. 

"He tamed him!" You yelped, pointing to the empty spot that Shiny occupied only moments ago. 

"Yeah. He knows many commands now." Tech took a seat on a bunk, holding your gaze. "Stay, come here, lay down, light up and turn off. " 

"Aw it's so sad that we have to take him back there." You pouted, but you knew why it was necessary. Didn't mean you had to like it though. 

"It's for his best interest." Tech chipped, standing up to leave the room. "Oh and I brought you some food from the mess. Figured you'd get out of the medbay before they could give you your lunch." He told you in the doorway before going elsewhere when you thanked him for the kind gesture. 

"Think you're ready?" Hunter asked from his spot leaning on the opposed bunk. 

You smirked. "Doubting me Sergeant?" You asked, mischief sparkling in your eyes. 

"No. Simply confirming with you." He cleared, raising an eyebrow at your expression. 

"Then I confirm. I'm ready for a test run. I know all those manuals by heart and it's as boring as it sounds." You chuckled. 

He pushed himself up before taking a few steps in your direction, only stopping when a single inch separated your chests. 

"I bet that those manuals would be much more interesting if you'd read them out loud." He said lowly, eyes darting down to your lips before returning to your eyes, calculating. 

"Now, I really doubt that." You rolled your eyes at his silliness. "I'm sure you'd fall asleep without a problem though." 

"I'd have nice dreams then." He smirked and you couldn't stop yourself. 

Your hand rose to the ink at the corner of his mouth, tracing its length carefully like you did that day he completed his part of the deal. Rising up to his cheekbone and temple, his head moved to the side to feel more of your fingers ghosting his skin before they finally entangled themselves in his locks. 

He groaned, eyes closing in contempt like every time, his touch deprivation made him like putty in your hand. After that first day, he soon became your most frequent visitor and the Batcher who knew you the most. In turn, you became the first person outside of his brothers to know him well. 

"I sure hope so." You whispered, closing the distance between your lips to take his breath away in a passionate kiss, your lips moving with his in perfect tandem. He followed your rhythm, too entranced by all of you overtaking his senses to be able to take the lead. 

His fingertips barely touched your waist that you pulled away, the mischievous glint he distinguished before sparkling stronger. 

"I have duty in the cockpit." 

You tried to pass by him but he quickly blocked your way with his body. 

"My hell of a catch-" He growled, his lips crashing back on yours, this time initiating the dance that you eagerly repeated. "-is a tease." He finished, eyes half close but loaded with desire. 

"Only for you, sir." You purred, pecking his lips one last time when he straightened at the title, his breath catching in his throat. 

You noted the reaction for later and ducked to the side to grab your knife from the bed and took off to the cockpit where you'd execute your very first attempt at flying a metal can. 

On your way you took hold of the food Tech gathered for you and you sat in the pilot seat, checking the board before you with all its buttons, switches and levers while eating. You were happy to find out that you knew the vast majority of their functions. 

"These are your credentials." Tech showed you his datapad, where your name appeared on top of the page with numbers and letters just beneath it, forming your personal code. 

"How did you get that? I didn't do any studies here and even less enrolled in the army." 

"Simple." He started, scrolling down to a particular section of the page. "I hacked the system through an encrypted connexion, created you a new identity within the GAR and gave you all the background needed to be a real pilot." He showed you your supposed diplomas and certifications of countless hours of flying practice that you really didn't have.

"Wow. I'm a genius." You noticed the grades attached to some of your supposed diplomas. 

With high distinction, some of them read. 

"Well, to be assigned to a team of elite commandos, you kinda need to be." He shrugged like it was pure logic. 

"You say that but you got me. The freak who never flew before and lived on a planet where we still used bows to hunt." You stated flatly, pointing to yourself. 

He met your eyes, blinking a few times behind his glasses to process what has been said and maybe find how to answer correctly. 

"Can I take back what I said?" He asked, starting to feel the hot water he just put himself in. 

"So you think I'm stupid?" 

"What?!" 

"If you take back the fact that I'm supposed to be a genius to be able to work with you, then you think that I'm stupid." You pointed out for him, enjoying how a rosy tint invaded his cheeks. 

"N-no! Not at all!" He stammered, clearly panicking over his own words. 

"Relax Tech, I'm kiddin'." You laughed, almost dropping your food.  

"What's going on here?" Hunter asked, suddenly entering with his arms crossed over his chest. 

"Tech called me stupid." You pushed him under the bus before taking a bite of your lunch. 

"No I didn't!" He defended himself, the high octave of his voice almost made you choke on the food.  

"Tech, don't insult our pilot." He reprimanded jokingly before leaving. 

He slowly turned to you, the residual pink on his skin vanishing by the seconds, his half-closed eyes burned holes through your skull. 

"I'm not helping you fly this ship." He grumbled, insulted. 

"I'll do my best!" You affirmed before lifting a hand to your chin in thought and pointing to a random button. "That's the hyperdrive, right?" You faked innocence. 

Tech blanched a bit, eyes widening all the while shaking his head in mild crisis. "You're not flying this ship!" 

You shot your hands in the air in defense, chuckling at his expression. "Okay I'm done shitting you! Promise!" 

Then you proceeded to name and explain the function of each button, each switch and each lever. He approved, sometimes adding stuff you couldn't learn in books and soon you were ready to depart. 

"No more jokes." He glared before patting your shoulder and left the room to tell the others that you would soon initiate the take-off sequence. 

You contemplated the hangar from your venture point, munching on some dry bread when you realized that you've felt more alive when you were stuck in a medbay bed for two months than you've ever felt in your life in the village. 

The reckless gesture of leaving your house on Murphy day was stupid but it bring you so much more than you first anticipated. Instead of having a single day where you weren't stared at with distrust or even disgust, you found companionship, kindness, people who'd gladly talk to you instead of whispering among themselves behind your back. 

Relief tears welled up in your eyes when you became aware that the heaviness weighing you down daily was gone. You were happy. 

You found your home.

[nad-zeta]

Quiet Mornings

Fandom: Ikesen

Pairings: Kennyo x Mama's OC (Asuga)

Genre: Fluffffff

Words: 1300+

Comments: Eeeeep, birthday bash week has begun! Eeeek, so excited! Whooop Whooop! So this is another lil one for our wonderful Mama! Hope you feel better soooon, Mama! Sending ya all the hugs and love!! ❤❤ ❤😳🥺! 🥺😳❤🌈

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。

Out on his morning reflection, a squeak could be heard coming from the dense foliage on the path less travelled. Kennyo enjoyed exploring the forest environments in the early hours of the morning, discovering new paths, and clearing his head before the hustle and bustle of the day.

Kennyo loved his followers and disciples, but golly they sure were demanding as rebuilding a temple from the ground up was certainly no easy feat, despite having the endless support of his love.

Kennyo raised a curious brow at the ruckus coming from the patch of bushes a little way from his path. He was ready to simply walk past, ignoring it, but something compelled him to take a closer look. After all, the monk was well known for his charitability towards not only his people but also the forest critters—never able to resist a man, woman, child or animal in need.

Inching closer, his hands parted the branches and leaves like the red sea, eyes widening in shock when he spotted a lone pup— presumably lost— beady eyes looking up at him and piercing his very heart and soul with its miserable little whines. The little creature reminded him of the young wolf he called his own— his dearest love, left at home to sleep in and get some much-deserved rest after a long week of work. The remembrance was not for the whining, heavens no, but for the pure strength and determination to endure, no matter the situation they found themselves in.

There was a beat of silence, both staring at one another, both sussing the other out before the pup started whining once again. He neared Kennyo craning his neck up as the cries continued— as if clearly stating his unhappiness to the man—even after Kennyo scooped him up in his arms, the puppy continued to wail.

“Hush now, little one,” Kennyo spoke sternly. However, his features completely softened as he looked down at the canine in his arms— warm and safe—hands stroking the soft fur as he attempted to settle the babe. It wasn’t long before the whining died down; little eyes lulled to sleep in the warm arms.

It was certainly not Kennyo’s intention to bring home yet another rescue on his morning walk, but here he was, quietly opening the temple door with the pup comfortably cradled in his arms— trying his best not to make so much as a peep to wake the household.

He, gently as he could, set the dog down on the plush pillow in the corner of the kitchen, careful not to wake the sleeping baby. The last thing he needed was for the creature to wake and start whining again; heaven knows all hell would break loose if his dear lover was woken before dawn.

Tiptoeing, he made his way back into the ever brightening bedroom, crouching down by Asuga’s side to check on her before tenderly brushing a stray strand of her hair from her eyes.

Not a trace of the trademark stern expression could be seen on his face as he gazed down at the one he loved the most in the world. His eyes reflected the tenderness and adoration he felt for the woman before him, and the soft smile that came to his lips, one which betrayed his every thought— my, how hard he had fallen. Retracting his hands, he was quiet as the night as he stood up to retreat back to the kitchen— to prepare for the day that lay ahead.

He smiled to himself as he got busy preparing two healthy helpings of rice pudding and a cup of dark tea— brewed to perfection just the way Asuga liked it. It was no secret that she was by no means a morning person and that the most he would get from her before the morning caffeine would be a few dissatisfied grunts and groans.

Food and tea in hand, he made his way back to bed, sun steadily rising to illuminate the room further, utterly robbing it from the dark that had once enveloped it. He set the breakfast down within arms reach, moving beneath the covers to wrap an arm around her waist and bring her closer to him. He leaned down and placed a loving kiss on her shoulder, just above the flower tattoo he loved so much.

Snaking his arms further around her waist, he muttered good morning against her neck before following it up with another adoring kiss.

She groaned in response, which only brought a hearty chuckle from Kennyo’s throat, tickling her neck as he nuzzled deeper into her skin. “Happy birthday,” he spoke warmly, slowly coaxing her from her slumbered state.

She only grumbled in return, burrowing, still further into the sheets, hoping to achieve sleep for a few moments longer. Just as Kennyo was about to release another chuckle, a series of whines could be heard coming from the kitchen. Shit, he had forgotten about the orphaned pup; what made matters worse was that Hayate, Asuga's wolf companion’s ears now perched, eyes narrowing as if to glare through the walls in the direction of the sound.

The wolf looked completely unimpressed as he continued to listen to the sounds echoing through the house. With a moment’s notice, the wolf bounded from his place at the foot of the bed, swiftly rounding the corner to investigate.

Kennyo panicked

Haya-” was all that left the man’s lips before the sounds of glass shattering in the next room could be heard. Kennyo’s blood froze over as the worst-case scenario ran through his mind.

“Who the hell is making all that noise,” the raspy roar came from beside him, followed by a dissatisfied scowl. Kennyo was about to jump up, investigate the damage when the grumpy growling and whining stopped altogether.

In angst, he peered through the dimly lit room, holding his breath as he waited—silence, only silence could be heard.

That is until soft steps pattered on the wooden floor, getting louder and louder until the pair rounded the corner. Kennyo released a sigh of relief at the sight of both animals unharmed. In fact, the sight of the two together had his heart-melting. Hayate proudly carried the little creature by the scruff of his neck into the room— tail swishing happily as he made his way back to their bed, taking his original spot at the foot.

Wiping the sleep from her eyes, Agsuga looked over at the pair and raised a brow at Kennyo, “And this,” she asked, voice still rough with sleep.

“Found alone in the woods, mother nowhere to be seen,” Kennyo stated simply, eyes brimming with sympathy for the little pup who now curled up between Hayate and Asuga. The little thing let go of an adorable yawn before tired eyes fell closed once more, to sleep peacefully in the comforts of the bed.

Kennyo reached over as a large hand covered the little one’s head giving the canine a gentle pat, both he and Hayate sending Asuga an equally big pair of puppy dog eyes.

“I turn my back for two minutes, and you are already rescuing another pet,” she jested with a shake of the head before leaning back into Kennyo’s warm embrace.

Kennyo could only smile in response; he couldn’t help it when it came to those in need. No matter what creature, big or small, he could never turn his back on them. “Shall we eat breakfast? It’s getting cold,” he prompted the woman whose eyes had already fallen shut against the warmth of his chest.

With an endearing sight, he pulled the blanket up to better cover Asuga while his fingers tenderly traced circles on her hip. He would indulge her with a few moments more, eyes too fluttering closed and enjoying the quiet, peaceful morning cuddles with the love of his life and the two canine companions.

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。

[queenxxxsupreme]

Hello, there. I hope you're feeling better. I saw your post about wanting soft Eskel blurbs and I would love to read goat dad tending to a field of goats. Like tooth rotting, diabetes inducing fluff. The fluffiest of fluff.

A/N: I hope you like this babe!!

***

One of the goats bleated loudly, catching Eskel’s attention. He looked up from the fence he was working on to see Gus, one of the kids you’d taken in over the summer, standing a little ways away from the herd that lingered near the witcher. 

Usually Gus didn’t stray far from Gertie, a brown calf, and Gus’s best friend. Gertie served as Gus’s eyes since the baby goat was born blind. 

“Gus? What are you doing?”

Gus bleated loudly, panicked that he didn’t know where his friends were. 

Lil Bleater made herself known, trotting to Eskel’s side and butting her head against his knees. 

“That’s rude.” Eskel patted her head, then went to Gus. 

The kid bleated again just as the witcher was scooping him up. 

Eskel placed Gus down by Gertie, then returned to the fence post he was fixing. Before he went back to work, he looked around to do a quick headcount of all the animals. There were three baby goats, Gus, Bastion, and Junior; one adult goat, Lil Bleater; two stallions, Ghost and Scorpion; Willow, a donkey; and Gertie, a calf. 

He smiled a little, content that no one had wandered off. 

Willow suddenly brayed, her ears pressing flat against her head. She was warning Eskel- and anyone else within hearing range -that someone was approaching the house. 

Eskel could hear it too, the sound of hooves on dirt. He almost panicked. There was more than one horse, more than one rider. No one ever came down the dirt road that led to your home. It was a deadend. There was no reason for strangers to stray that way. But then the witcher heard a familiar voice. It was his brother, Lambert, and Geralt was with him. 

Eskel began to move down the hill towards the house. The fence prevented Willow from charging the two intruders. She brayed as loud as she could until Eskel patted her flank. 

“Easy, girl.”

Her ears remained down against her head but she no longer brayed. 

Eskel watched as the two witchers came to a stop just a few feet away in front of the fence. 

“Look at you.” Lambert grinned. “The first ever retired witcher became a farmer.”

“I’m not retired.”

“Not yet.” Geralt got down from Roach first. 

Eskel easily scaled the fence and jumped down on the other side. It was easier than going to the gate and trying to squeeze out without letting one of the kids out. 

“Good to see you, brother.” The White Wolf tightly hugged Eskel, clapping him on the back.

“How did you find me?” Eskel asked as he pulled away from Geralt and moved on to Lambert. 

“Someone saw us in town. Asked if we were looking for another witcher.” Lambert explained. “Thought we’d swing by and give you some hell for retiring.”

Eskel smiled a little, happy to see that his little brother hadn’t changed in the years since they last saw each other. 

“Is that Lil Bleater?” Lambert asked, pointing at the old goat and moving towards the fence. He leaned over it, reaching down to pet Lil Bleater’s head. 

“Sure is.”

“Damn.” 

As Lambert was petting Lil Bleater, one of the kids, Junior, bleated and tried to headbutt Lambert’s hand. When that didn’t get the witcher’s attention, Junior resorted to biting at Lambert’s fingers. 

“Ouch! You little shit!”

“Lambert, meet Lambert Junior.” Eskel grinned, leaning against the fence. “We call him Junior.”

“Little bastard.” Lambert muttered, scowling at the kid as he bleated again. 

“We?” Geralt repeated, crooking one brow. 

Eskel brought his eyes to the witcher, nodding just a little. A faint smile came to his lips. 

“I’ve got someone I want you to meet. Both of you. Follow me.”

***

The three witchers walked across the large green yard that separated the field from the quaint little stone cottage that rested in the edge of the woods. 

“Take your boots off before you walk too far in.” Eskel told them as he pushed the door open. 

“Take our boots off?” Lambert repeated, scrunching his nose up. “I don’t take my boots off for anyone.”

“Take your boots off, or you’ll be the one cleaning the floor.” There was a teasing tone to Eskel’s threat. 

Lambert muttered a few curse words under his breath but did as told. 

“How’d you come across this place?” Geralt asked, looking around the small room curiously.

“There was a cockatrice problem. Three of them took to the town. Managed to take them down, but got a few new scars from them.” Eskel pulled his shirt up to reveal his side. Cutting across his side from his hip to his ribs was a thick, jagged scar. It was much paler than his sun kissed skin. He started to lead the way down a narrow hallway. “Heard the healer in town was exceptional.”

“Eskel? Who is it you’re talking….” You trailed off as Eskel came around the corner with the two men behind him. You stopped in your tracks, lips parting as you took in the sight of the two intimidating men. The dark haired one was lean, but still tall and muscular. The white haired one seemed to be built very similar to Eskel. Broad shoulders, thick muscles. 

“Y/N, these are my brothers.” Eskel gestured to each witcher as he introduced them. “Geralt and Lambert.”

A fond smile came to your lips. You put the rag in your hands down and moved towards them. 

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you gentlemen!” You didn’t shy away from hugging both men. 

Lambert’s eyes widened and he looked to Eskel for help as you wrapped your arms around him. 

“Y/N saved my life two years ago.” Eskel leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “Had to stay here for a couple weeks to get better. By then, I didn’t want to leave.”

“You make it sound like I kidnapped you.” You pulled away from Geralt and then moved towards your witcher. You put your hand on his arm, smiling happily. 

“What are you making?” Eskel looked over to the pot hanging over the fire. It smelled like something was burning. 

You cursed and moved over to the pot, stirring the soup. 

“Will you boys be staying for dinner?” You looked back at the two witchers. 

Geralt and Lambert shared a little look, then looked to Eskel. Lambert crossed his arms, shifting in his spot. Eskel nodded once to Geralt’s silent question, telling him you were trustworthy. 

“We’d love to stay.” Geralt answered, bumping his shoulder against Lambert’s. “Wouldn’t we, Lambert?” 

“I’m always down for free food.” 

***

After dinner, the sun had gone down and you insisted Geralt and Lambert stay for the night. 

Eskel took his brothers outside to round up the animals and put their horses in the barn with yours and Eskel’s.

You worked on cleaning the kitchen, humming softly and moving around.

“Doll, I told you I’d help you clean when I came back.” Eskel spoke as he walked into the kitchen.

“I can get it.” You assured him. “Where are they?”

“Still outside. They’re discussing plans for tomorrow.” Eskel moved around behind you. You turned your head to watch himm, a smile coming to your lips. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you back into his body. “Junior has taken quite a liking to Lambert.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Keeps trying to eat his boots.”

You laughed, leaning back into Eskel. 

He nuzzled his nose into your neck, eyes closing as he let out a soft breath. 

“Thank you.” He murmured against your skin, tickling you just a little. 

“For what?”

“For being so…. welcoming to them.”

You turned around in his arms, hands brushing up along his forearms. 

“They’re your brothers, Eskel. I’d treat them no different than how you treat my sister.”

“But it’s…. It’s different with us.” He spoke quietly, eyes flickering down.

You brought your hand to his jaw, fingertips brushing along the side of his face. You pushed a few stray pieces of hair behind his ear.

“I know it is.” You gently said. “And I’m so sorry it is.”

He pulled your hand from his face and pressed a kiss to your palm. 

“I love you.”

“I know.” You smiled. “I love you.”

He leaned in to kiss you but just before your lips could touch, he was pulling away and cursing under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, brows drawing together as you watched him move towards the front door. 

“Willow is chasing Lambert.”

Taglist: @pressedinthepages @mishafaye @whitewolfandthefox@wolfyland07 @belalugosisdead @persephonehemingway @keira-hulmaster @dinonuggs69 @greatestauthorofmygeneration@shadow-hunters-lover @dancingwith-thesunflowers @tedi-fach-las @thecomfortofoldstorries @raspberrydreamclouds @natkowaa@disasteren @weathervanes-my-oneandlonely @onlyhenrys@wackylurker @criminaly-supernatural @magpie343@permanently-exhausted-witcher @hina-chans-stuff @the-space-between-heartbeats @havenoffandoms @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @naominami @writingawaymylife@reaganjenelle@theawkwardpedestrian @scarlettwitcher@badassspaceprincess @just-a-sad-donut @summersong69 @an–actual–human–disaster@rubyqueen819 @omgkatinka @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @vonxcon @mazakeen @bravelittlesunflower @thereagles@awkward-turtles-world @menalliha @cotton_mo @maan24 @she-wolfoftheinquisition @titaniafire

[urlocalbunny]

how would each of the boys react if they saw a sphynx cat for the first time?

Hello, my sweet and cursed bal.

Aaron:

So it's the 90's. Aaron is walking around the stores under the moonlight, his navy blue stripped sweaters are tucked in his light wash jeans and his hair is messy as always. His sneakers squeak against the sidewalk, until the noise stops.

After he sees a bald ball in a pet shop, he stares at it with a blank face, then shudders. This is a cute, but weird animal.

He's probably going to ask someone nearby and when they say it's a cat, he will make out the paws and tail curled up in a corner.

He taps the glass twice. The little ball perks up, watching him curiously. It probably knows he isn't like the other people. He giggles. What a cute kitty.

Aaron doesn't bother adopting it because he knows that he's just settling in the village and he can't leave a pet all alone. But he leaves with a little smile. It reminds him of a friend he had helped a few years back. Vladimir.

Raphael:

It's also the 90's. Raphael is sitting on a bench, enjoying the wind. A cute kitty meows. How does he know it's cute? Simple: all kitties are cute. Even the angry kitties.

He feels for the source of the noise, then he hears a jump. He smiles: the kitty came to greet him. He stays still, giggling when he feels the cold nose smell his hand.

Then, something he didn't expect happens: when the cat headbutts his hand, he's completely bald! He gasps, feeling carefully as to not scare the cat. He feels the tag, and a knitted sweater around a completely bald cat.

The discovery makes him feel like running away with the cat to find out more, but he can't kidnap a cat. It's a cat, right? He decides to not dwell too much on it and just enjoy the time he's got with the cat

Soon enough, a small girl comes around and sighs in relief, grabbing the cat that purrs delightfully, meowing away as if telling her how they met. The little girl thanks him for taking care of his cat. "He's the new bald race, so he shouldn't be outside at this time. Bye, Mister!" He waved, scoffing. "So there's even such a thing, huh?"

Beliath:

Beliath was with Ethan, trying to find some cat food for a neighbor on his building. It was in the early 2000's. He wore a flashy outfit, colorful and comfy. As he strode in, something caught his eye through the shades.

A bald cat! He scrunched his nose. Eeeew! He inches closer, looking at it while he uses the glasses as a headband. The cat hissed at him.

"Ethan. Come look." Ethan inches closer, then he smacks Beliath in his head. "Dumbass. That's a sphynx cat." Beliath gags. The cat takes this opportunity where he's leaning in disgust to snatch his shades. Beliath shrieks.

"Satanic cat!" He picks them back before the clerk finds out, rushing to buy the food. The wrinkles haunt his head. Ethan laughs and whispers "satanic cat" in the back.

When he leaves, he makes sure to stick his tongue at the cat secretly and leave as the thing watches him with a murderous look (in fact the cat was just vibing he's a drama queen)

Vladimir:

Vladimir is an unfortunate person. He's with his cape (that would be Ivan's one day) , walking around to grab supplies to help Aaron with the house.

When he's making his way back home, under the dim street lights and cloudy sky, he hears a noise. He turns around, scared for his aristocrat life.

When he sees it. On top of a wall, a slender figure looms over him. He gasps. "Is that chicken?!" No. It isn't a chicken. It is a bald cat.

He turns around, running a little to the other side of the street. The cat watches him inside a sweater and a shiny collar. It comes down the wall and meows. An ugly, raspy meow as it approaches. Vladimir runs home holding the bags in one hand and his hood with the other as the tiny steps of the cat follow him.

When he drives home, he pushes the door closed, panting. Aaron skips to the stairs, eyes wide. "I was followed by a bald, wrinkly sweater-wearing ugly evil cat!" Aaron looks at him for a long time, then he lets out a booming laughter. Vladimir pouts. "Easy now, little one." The taller one grabs the bags, patting his head and leaving, laughing at him.

Ethan:

Who do we want to lie to? Ethan probably knew about the cats before rich people began to buy them from some random science magazine that showed the experiments made in Canada.

As soon as he saw some in the pet shop, he went to see them and played with them a little, but he didn't buy a cat for obvious reasons.

He ran his hands along the wrinkles, smiling excitedly at how energetic they seemed. The clerk didn't even bother kicking him out nearing close hours tbh

He would always play with some cat that found their way out of some rich kid's house to jog a little.

He also likes bald dogs.

Ivan:

He could've had some relative that had one because my boy was rich, rich.

He probably saw one as a kid unlike the others, and he loved it at first sight. The wrinkles, cute eyes and little paws made him coo.

His parents bought him one ASAP. Anything to make Ivan happy bc he's such a good kid, amirite? Ivan was excited, carrying the little kitty everywhere to keep it safe.

Had an sphynx for a looking while, taking care of them is really difficult but he did it perfectly, bathing, moisturizing skin, feeding and playing, while keeping it warm.

Boy knows everything he has to know about cats, but the different species make his lil' heart go òwó and that's because of the sphynx he had when he was a smol bean.

[rainandhotchocolate]

Black Dog

A/N So this is literally just pure fluff - I was sick af this week and wanted some sirius black comforting me as a dog so I wrote it I HOPE OTHER PEOPLE ALSO LIKE THIS cause this is totally self indulgent lelel 

Enjoy! 

(8k, Sirius Fluffffff, descriptions of an injury & depression)

A large black dog sat on Y/N’s leg, leaning against her knee. A lot of students had seen it around lately, someone’s rogue and prohibited pet roaming Gryffindor tower at night. For many it was a comfort, wandering around to cheer people up as it seemed to sense when someone was sad or extremely stressed, but Y/N had also heard that it would lead you down to kitchens in the dead of the night and help bring back extra treacle tarts.

A tear had found its way down and into Y/N’s mouth, salty and hot against her skin, her breathing hitching slightly as she tried to calm herself down. She hated crying. Well, crying in front of others anyway. She knew there was a different kind of bravery in being able to show your emotions to others but there was always something pulling her back, telling her to hide at all costs.

The dog nuzzled itself against her leg, and she moved on the couch to make room for it to sit up next to her and lay its head in her lap.

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” She laughed at the dog, tears still making tracks down her face, “I hate crying for no reason, it’s like I’m constantly searching for a reason, I should have some terrible illness or problem that means I’m allowed to be upset. But no, my brain has decided I’m just sad.”

Y/N dug her hands into the fur along the dog’s neck and head, scratching lightly. She’d found herself getting more tired lately, wanting to do nothing but sleep and sleep. But now, in the middle of the night, of course, she couldn’t.

The big black dog had been joining her most nights this week, curling up against her leg or in front of the fire, listening to her talk or watching her move around her watercolours across a page, swirls of colour and water dripping onto the carpet. Sometimes they just lay across the carpet in front of the fire, the dog sleeping on her stomach or legs as she drifted in and out of sleep.

This night seemed different, however, the dog had refused to stay still, moving around every few minutes as if to make sure she stayed awake.

“Ok, what’s up, puppy?” The dog growled at that and Y/N laughed, “Ok, large giant manly dog, what are you doing?”

The dog finally jumped up and off the couch, nudging its head into the back of her knee so that she had to stand up as well. She groaned, joining him and watching a little exasperatedly as it ran towards the portrait hole and then looked back at her expectantly.

“Ok, ok,” Y/N shook her head but followed anyway, grabbing her jumper and pushing open the door, hiding quickly in the dark so that the Fat Lady didn’t spot her. Y/N could hear her yelling whose there! in her scariest voice as she slipped out of sight.

They moved carefully through the darkness, the dog led her down hallways Y/N wasn’t sure she’d ever been down before, behind small paintings and passageways that seemed to come into focus when the dog moved across the floor in a certain way. After what felt like an hour, Y/N started to feel a cool breeze trickle down her neck and she realised that they were just beside the small courtyard. The dog slipped through a small dog and Y/N followed him out into the stone covered the courtyard that was beginning to sprout small flowers in between the cracks and along the walls.

Y/N silently thanked herself for bringing a jumper, pulling it over herself as the dog seemed to prance across the stone floor and towards the grounds.

“Slow down, not all of us are completely awake right now.”

The dog huffed but slowed to an almost comical pace… no, just slowed. Y/N shook her head, she was reading human emotions into a fucking dog. She followed the dog out into a clearing, a little way down from the Whomping Willow, that overlooked the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The black dog pawed at the bottom of a tree to Y/N’s right before curling up underneath it. Y/N joined him, letting him rest his head on her lap once more.

The night breeze had faded, leaving just the warm air that smelt like flowers and Hagrid’s cabbage patch wafting over towards them.

“Well this is very pretty,” Y/N murmured, scratching the dog behind his ears and grinning as it pushed its head back involuntarily into her hand, “I was brought here before you know? In first year, I completely forgot.”

A memory had pushed itself forward, of a boy with dark hair gripping her hand tightly and dragging her along the river and towards the large oak tree they were now sitting under.

“Sirius Black brought me here, he was sure that there was going to be a comet shower and we had to go see it.”

The dog seemed to jump at the name, looking up at her before shaking its head and lowering back down and onto her lap.

“You know that name huh? I hope he’s not your owner, that would be supremely awkward. Though to be fair it would be like him to bring in a prohibited animal into school,” Y/N snorted, rolling her eyes.

Sirius and herself had been friends back in first and second year before he’d grown into himself, his hair curling down the nape of his neck as he rebelled against haircuts from his parents, wearing tight flare jeans and leather jackets to Hogsmeade weekends in third year. They’d drifted apart, Sirius spending more time with his guy friends, wanting to talk about girls and dung bombs, and Y/N’s little crush had faded into the background as she became friendly with the other girls in her dorm room.

She couldn’t help hating how her heart jumped a little bit every time he caught her eye, smiling and always being the first to look away.

“Well if he is your owner tell him he’s a dolt for dousing the common room in snow, I know it was him.”

The dog seemed to look amused. No, not amused, it was just looking at her. Y/N desperately needed some sleep.

“Ok, come on doggo, I need to actually go to sleep for once,” She felt herself yawning, and grinned down at the dog, “Thanks for the adventure, it seems to have made me tired.”

They wandered back up and into the castle, the dog again leading her down small passageways and hidden corridors to avoid any teachers or Filch prowling the hallways. The dog ran ahead when they were at the corridor leading onto the Gryffindor Tower, and somehow made the Fat Lady open the Portrait Hole before Y/N had edged towards her point of sight, grumbling loudly about insubordination.

She crept into the common room, praying that it had remained empty, and letting out a deep sigh when she saw that it was.

“Well, goodnight lil fluff,” Y/N grinned as it growled lightly at her again but nuzzled his head along her leg all the same. She gave him a final scratch on the head and neck before walking towards the girl’s dorm room, falling asleep almost instantly.

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

Y/N woke up to a startled shriek, jumping up quickly and pulling open the curtains surrounding her bed. She was surprised to find that the sun was streaming through the windows and the rest of the girls in her room already dressed and pulling on sandals.

“Ok who on earth screamed,” Y/N groaned, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and slipping on her the soft slippers sitting under her bed.

“Yeah sorry I just spilt coffee on my date outfit and I have nothing else planned out and I’m currently panicking,” Dorcas sighed, still staring at the large brown stain dripping down her white blouse.

“You have a million clothes,” Marlene rolled her eyes, already picking through her clothes, “And a million white tops, I honestly think you have an inability to buy colour.”

“I look good in shades, leave me be.”

“Wear the white dress!” Marlene pulled out a mini dress that had been stuck underneath the piles of winter clothes Dorcas had packed away months ago.

“Ughhhh, no.”

“Yes!” Lily came over to Marlene, grinning widely, and picking the dress out of Marlene’s hands to hold it up to the rest of the dorm.

“Strong yes, also who are you going out with?” Y/N rummaged through her drawers to pull out a pair of linen shorts and t-shirt.

“Eloise, that Ravenclaw girl who Dorcas stares at every morning,” Marlene threw the dress at Dorcas who scowled and held it up to herself in the mirror.

“On the Quidditch team, yeah?”

“Yep, smart and fit, the dream combo,” Dorcas waggled her eyebrows at Y/N through the mirror before turning around and sighing loudly, “Ok, but no one is allowed to comment on the dress all day.”

“Cross my heart,” Lily acted out her words in mid-air, turning back to lacing up her docs. Eventually, the girls filed out of their dorm room and made their way to the Hogwarts exit point. Filch was standing and growling at everyone who past, aggressively poking a dark magic detector towards each person before they were allowed to get through.

“I don’t know who would be dumb enough to carry dark objects into Hogsmeade,” Marlene rolled her eyes, lining up for Filch to glare her down.

“I’d say it would be more of a worry what they are getting in town,” Lily muttered under her breath, eyeing a dark-haired Slytherin who had hissed back at Filch as he tried to pat him down.

“Filch is checking us going back in too,” Y/N watched as Filch finally let Snape through, begrudgingly, and he joined the group of Slytherins waiting for him. Lily’s attitude didn’t seem to lift, so Y/N took another angle, “So are we meeting James?”

“In the Three Broomsticks,” Lily said, as casually as possible, but a slight tinge of red had crept up onto her cheeks and ears.

“What is this, date number 10?” Dorcas grinned at her, “And all you’ve done is kiss, huh?”

“We’re taking it slow.”

“Or you’re just not telling us all the juicy details.”

“You know that you would be the first to know if I had any juicy details to tell,” Lily knocked Dorcas’ elbow, smiling at her, “Anyway, I don’t want to be making a big deal out of it.”

“But it’s a bloody huge deal!”

“Exactly my point.”

“You’re no fun,” Marlene poked her tongue out at her, and looped her arm around Y/N, “I guess us lone wolves will have to make our own fun.”

“Yes, please find me something fun to do,” Y/N leaned into Marlene’s shoulder, watching the line slowly trickly forwards.

“Well there are plenty of pretty boys around for that,” Marlene winked at her, scanning the crowd forming with Filch’s very slow process, “Even some that seem to be staring at you.”

“What?” Y/N followed her gaze to see none other than Sirius Black turning quickly away to face Remus and Peter. Y/N frowned, perhaps that dog was his. Did he see them last night?

“I highly doubt staring is the word to be used there,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “We haven’t exactly spoken recently.”

“Ahh, the heart is a fickle thing,” Marlene said sagely, stepping up to Filch who poked her aggressively and then waved her through. Once Filch had seen that they weren’t carrying anything that would potentially curse or kill anyone in Hogsmeade, they made their way down the hill towards the small village.

Y/N had always loved Hogsmeade, in all weather, but there was something about it in Summer when everyone was wandering the streets and a light summer breeze would rustle its way through the main road in a way that felt like she was being wrapped in a blanket. It somehow felt more magical to her.

The girls made their way towards The Three Broomsticks, Marlene whispering the names of all the cute boys they passed who might be very available for Y/N. Y/N couldn’t help but snigger along with her, even though her mind had drifted back to Sirius’ grey-blue eyes watching her in the courtyard moments before.

The Three Broomsticks was crowded, as expected, with the end of exams and most teachers finishing up their work. Rosmerta was almost slinging butterbeer at anyone who managed to reach the bar, and had three extra waitstaff sliding through the tables across the pub.

“Can anyone see a table?” Marlene scowled at a boy who had shoved passed her to find a table himself and he backed off.

“I’m going to melt into the floor if there isn’t, I am not going to Madame Puddifoots, that place is a hellhole,” Dorcas groaned, searching the floor for empty chairs lying about.

“James has one!” Lily was already walking towards them, waving at James with a giddy kind of smile on her face. The rest of them trudged after her, avoiding the patrons holding steaming mugs of butterbeer and other assorted drinks, towards the large back table where James and his friends were sitting.

“How on earth did you get this table?” Dorcas looked both amazed and relieved, sitting down on the edge of the table so that she could continue to look out for Eloise.

“Got here hours ago, it’s the last trip into Hogsmeade it’s always hectic,” James was grinning, clearly very proud of himself, and slung an arm around Lily, giving her shoulder a little squeeze, “I grabbed you a pint already but I wasn’t aware we’d be graced by your friends as well, sorry!”

“Well I guess you had to officially meet them at some point,” Lily smiled up at him, and Y/N felt a pang in her stomach. It would be nice to look at someone with that much happiness.

“We’ve known them for seven years,” Marlene laughed, still standing and holding onto Y/N’s arm, “We’ll get the rest of the pints, come on.”

She dragged Y/N away quickly, expertly pulling her through the crowd and up to the bar.

“Why did you and Sirius drift apart anyway?” She turned to Y/N, head crooked to one side.

“I told you, we just got older and stopped having the same interests,” Y/N shrugged, “Why?”

“I don’t know, I just always think there was more too it,” She held her hands out and pulled three mugs of butterbeer towards her as Rosemerta began sliding them across the bar, “you know he’s like always staring at you.”

“Well now I know you’re lying,” Y/N rolled her eyes, grabbing her own pint of butterbeer as they began to walk back, trying not to spill anything.

“You can’t not have noticed! If anything I can’t see why you drifted apart if you both clearly care for each other, even just a little bit,” Marlene gave her a look, the one the gave when she was making sure that you actually listened to her and stopped being a prat.

“I honestly don’t know what to tell you, Marls,” Y/N lowered her voice as they got to the table, “We just stopped hanging out.”

“Mmmmm,” Marlene hummed but said nothing further. She passed a mug to Dorcas and sat down next to Peter and Remus.

“Has Eloise arrived yet?” Y/N ignored Marlene’s continued watchful eyes, sitting down in the only place left, between Remus and Sirius. She took a big sip of her drink.

“Her friend just came over, she’s running a bit late but will be here soon,” Dorcas beamed, her nerves getting the better of her as she began tapping the edge of her butterbeer mug. Sirius had leaned back into his chair, and Y/N could feel his eyes on her shoulder but she continued to ignore him. She wasn’t really sure why she was ignoring him, it’s not like he’d done anything to hurt her, but it felt like if she turned to face him her face might become a ripe tomato.

“Have you planned out your afternoon then?”

“Of course, drink here, then walk over to the shrieking shack, see if I can’t get her a little scared and a little in need of a hug,” Dorcas winked, earning a laugh from James and Sirius.

“That’s very sly, I like it,” James nodded in approval, “Might try that on you sometimes.”

He turned to Lily, grinning wickedly.

“I’m very sure it would be you who’d need a hug.”

“That works fine for me too, Lils,” His grin widened and Lily seemed to be unable to do anything but smile back at him.

“What about you, Y/N, any big plans for the afternoon?” Y/N felt like she could hear his voice separately from the others, as if they were somewhere else, alone. She cleared her throat, steeling herself before looking at him with a cool expression plastered across her face.

“No plans, though Marlene wants to find something fun to do that doesn’t require us watching James and Lily snog all afternoon,” Y/N gave an innocent smile to Lily who growled at her.

“Perhaps you’d want to join us?” Marlene chimed in, a similar smile on her face, eyebrows raised at Sirius, “You two as well of course.”

She nodded to Remus and Peter.

“I never really enjoy seeing James’ tongue,” Remus’ face remained blank but his eyes were twinkling as he looked over at Lily who was blushing furiously.

“I actually hate all of you,” Lily buried her head behind James who looked thoroughly pleased with her reaction.

“Well I’m definitely in, I need to stop by Zonko’s though,” Sirius responded, eyes darting over to Remus’ who returned a knowing smile.

They finished their drinks and bid goodbye to Lily, James, and Dorcas who barely looked up from watching the door intently. Y/N took in a deep breath as the summer breeze wafted across her face, feeling it warm up her skin.

“Nothing like the Scottish sun,” Sirius grinned at Y/N, “I honestly think the sun feels the best here, because we get so little of it across the year.”

“Definitely,” Y/N smiled a little giddily back, feeling the sun warm the back of her head as they made their way towards Zonkos.

“So what do you need in Zonkos huh?” Marlene gave Remus and Sirius a sidelong glance, “I would have thought you’d be banned from bringing things back by now.”

“We have our ways,” chirped Peter from behind them, sticking his head through from behind Remus with what he must think was a mischievous smirk.

“Why does that sound worse than the idea of being pranked on our last few days of school?”

“Because it is,” Remus shook his head at the two boys who were now whispering, heads bent together.

“I thought you would have taught them better Mr prefect,” Y/N teased him, holding open the door for the group to pile into the already very crowded Zonko’s.

“There’s a reason I had the head boy badge taken from me,” He winked, nodding in thanks as he passed her and wandered towards what Y/N was sure was fireworks. The boys hid their purchases from Marlene and Y/N who decidedly ignored them, wandering the aisles in search of anything that could be fun for the summer holidays.

“Never know when you might need one of these,” Marlene elbowed Y/N repeatedly as she held up a love potion, making Y/N giggle.

“I definitely, don’t need one of those.”

“Oooh, a confident Y/N, I like her,” Marlene put it down, trailing her fingers across the shelves. Y/N felt someone’s eyes on her back but refused to turn around until the boys called their names to get them to leave.

“Anyone keen to sneak up on Dorcas?” Marlene linked arms with Y/N again.

“You just want to see the haunted shrieking shack,” Sirius cooed, moving his hands in front of her as if he was a ghost, “It is really haunted you know, I’ve heard the screams.”

“So, have I,” Peter grinned, following Sirius’ actions as Marlene began to lead the way. They trudged up the hill and towards the clearing where there was the best view of the derelict house. It always seemed to look worse and worse every time Y/N came to see it like it would fall over at any moment.

“Want a closer look?” Sirius winked at Y/N, “Or are you a bit too scared something might come out of the dark.”

“Don’t need you goading me Mr Black,” Y/N smiled at him, “You know I can’t handle scary stories, let alone a giant haunted house.”

“Ahhh come on, I’ll protect you,” He grabbed her shoulders quickly, “If I can.”

“Stop it, you dork!”

“You two are killing me,” Marlene rolled her eyes, snorting at them, “And anyway, Dumbledore said specifically that someone nearly died down there. I’m all for an adventure, but I’d like to graduate and you know, maybe fight in a war rather than die from a loose floorboard.”

“Smart girl you are,” Remus nodded at her, but Y/N swore she saw a flash of anger cross his eyes, “I for one am perfectly happy staying up here, not dead.”

“Hear hear!” Y/N grinned up at Remus, “the prefect is back.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon mucking around the area around the Shrieking Shack, Sirius taking them up to this giant hill that overlooked almost all of Hogsmeade and the castle. On the way down, Y/N felt herself slip, catching herself on a rock that jutted out beside her.

“Fuuuuuuuuuucckk,” Y/N moaned, feeling her hand cut open with the force of her landing, her but likely covered in dirt and also aching.

“Shit, are you ok?” Sirius had come up behind her, grabbing her by the waist and swiftly picking her up and off the ground. The rest of them had already trekked farther down the hill and hadn’t heard her swear.

“Yeah, I am, it's bloody typical of me. The one day I bring out the sandals we go on a small hike,” Y/N snorted, shaking her head and trying to stand on her feet. Her knee buckled and she fell back into Sirius who gripped her tightly, his arms wrapped around her torso.

“Thanks, sorry,” Y/N winced, both from the pain and a little out of embarrassment.

“Don’t stress at all,” He smiled at her, “Lean on me, for the rest of the way down ok? I don’t want you toppling over and breaking your leg again.”

“Oh my god I can’t believe you would bring that up,” Y/N shook her head in amazement, “that was completely your fault!”

“Hardly!” Sirius hooked his arm around her back and hoisted her upright so that Y/N could test her leg whilst they continued the walk down. Y/N couldn’t help but lean into him, feeling his chest pressed up against her shoulder blades and… shut up, you idiot.

“You decided it would be a great idea to make the final staircase to the Great Hall a waterslide.”

“Oh yeah… that was kind of my fault wasn’t it,” He grimaced, chuckling, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s ok, you carried me around for a week. And I think you got me a bouquet of chocolate frogs! Fuck, I forgot about that.”

“Has been a while hasn’t it,” Sirius became slightly quieter, Y/N itching to turn and see his expression but she was too worried about making sure she didn’t bleed across her white shorts. They continued the rest of the journey in silence, Y/N slowly taking her weight off Sirius as she stretched out her leg and the muscle began to take on more pressure.,

“You lot took ages, doing anything fun?” Marlene was picking at her nails, sitting on a large rock and leaning against Remus who had pulled out a book.

“If you call gashing open your hand and bruising your sit bones fun, then yes, I had a wild time.”

“You cut your hand?” Sirius glared at Y/N, “Show me.”

“Alright, calm down,” Y/N barked a laugh at his concerned expression, “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Yeah that’s not fine,” Peter had come up to them, watching as Sirius opened her fist revealing a large gaping hole in her hand.

“Ok I think I might faint,” Y/N felt a rush of blood coming up to her head as she took in the pain and visual all at once, “I’d been clenching it the whole way down the hill so I didn’t bleed on myself, I didn’t think to look at it.”

“I’ve got something to calm you down,” Peter smiled at her, grabbing his large rucksack and pulling out a small dropper, “open your mouth, two drops of this and you’ll be fine till we get you to Madame Pomfrey.”

“Do you just carry this stuff around with you?” Marlene peeked her head into his bag, frowning.

“He’s obsessed with potions,” Remus smiled at Peter warmly, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was best in the year,”

“I’m not that good, I just find them interesting,” Peter blushed a bright red colour as he put the stopper back into the bottle and pocketed it, “Let me know if you feel like fainting again.”

“Will do,” Y/N felt a wave of calm come over her, her knees buckling again as every muscle in her body seemed to relax.

“Yeah it might do that if she’s never had it before,” Peter winced, “Sorry I forgot to mention.”

“No worries,” Sirius leaned down and picked Y/N up, bridal style, “This is much more fun anyways.”

“Sorry, Y/N!” Peter squeaked again, looking like he accidentally poisoned her.

“It’s fine,” Y/N smiled giddily, “I wish I could have you around more often with your little potions bag.”

Y/N curled herself into Sirius’ body, slightly aware that her inhibitions had likely been lowered given her lack of care for revelling in the closeness of their bodies but she didn’t care, or more likely she probably couldn’t care. He brought her back up to the castle and straight to the hospital wing, calling loudly to Madame Pomfrey as he laid her on the closest bed to the exit.

“Yes, what is it, Black,” Pomfrey snapped, and Y/N got the impression that she didn’t enjoy seeing Sirius in the Hospital Wing, “oh!”

“Yes not me this time I promise, Y/N fell in Hogsmeade, she’s opened up her hand,”

Sirius curled open Y/N’s hand slowly, and Y/N winced as the nerves around the gash seemed to fizzle.

“Mmmmm, that’s a nasty cut, I’m glad you brought her to me instead of trying to heal it yourself, she’d have a hell of a lot more nerve damage,” Madame Pomfrey pulled out her wand and sat beside Y/N who looked at her nervously.

“I’ve learnt from my mistakes,” Sirius winked at her, sitting on the other side, his hand still on her shoulder. Y/N concentrated on that as Pomfrey began hovering her wand around the wound, muttering softly, and suddenly could feel the entirety of her hand moving, the nerves reattaching around the tendons. Y/N wanted to puke.

“Not very comfortable, but you should be fine in a few hours, you’ll just need to wear a small brace for a day to make sure nothing else happens to it.”

“Ok,” Y/N gritted her teeth, wishing she’d asked for something for the pain from Peter as well as her wound began to close slowly.

“There! All done, just wait here whilst I grab you a brace, and no leaning on it today or tomorrow, ok?” She gave Y/N and Sirius a stern look before standing up and heading to a large cupboard next to her office.

“Feeling ok?” Sirius asked, his thumb rubbing circles against her shoulder blade.

“Now that she’s stopped pulling my skin together, yes,” laughed Y/N, smiling at him, “Thanks for bringing me by the way, I hope I didn’t stop you getting your Zonko’s stuff back into the castle.”

“Oh don’t worry, Peter was in charge of all that,” He gave her a smirk but said nothing more as Madame Pomfrey returned with a rigid looking brace. She put it place for Y/N, showing her how to re-do it in the morning and bid them goodbye.

Sirius and Y/N walked back up to the Gryffindor Common Room in relative silence, Y/N feeling the calm slowly wear off her and the embarrassment of being carried into the castle by Sirius Black settle back in.

“Well, I’m going to read and avoid using my hand for the next 24 hours,” Y/N smiled a little awkwardly at him as they stepped through the Portrait hole and into the common room. He smiled at her, standing still momentarily as they both seemed to panic over how to say goodbye. Eventually, Y/N held out her hand as Sirius went to hug her.

“Wow, we really are out of sync,” Sirius laughed loudly, shaking his head.

“Why don’t we just nod curtly and leave,” Y/N grinned but felt like she was actually just baring her teeth at him.

“Deal.”

They nodded at each other and walked in the opposite direction, Y/N to her dorm and Sirius to the large window that overlooked the grounds.

That evening, once the sun had finally gone down around 10pm, Y/N made her way out into the common room, wanting to be by the fire as she read. She wasn’t surprised to see the large black dog had taken up residence by the fire already, curled up in a ball. He looked up when he heard her, wagging his tail.

“How are you doing, pup?” Y/N smiled at the large dog that had come across the common room and lay down on the carpet in front of the fire.

“I had a good day today,” She hummed lying down on the couch, leaning her head against the edge, curling herself up into the cushions so that she could keep her feet warm.

“I saw your owner today, Sirius,” She watched the fire flicker, placing her book underneath the couch as she began to feel tired, “Haven’t actually spoken to him in a long while. It was nice, felt like old times.”

The dog jumped up and curled himself against her stomach. Y/N felt herself begin to drift off, one arm curled to her side and the other draped lazily across the black dogs’ torso.

“In fact, I even got him to carry me the whole way home,” Y/N snorted, “You should have seen me, I think I was as red as a tomato. I’m very glad he didn’t say anything. Or perhaps if I’m lucky he didn’t notice me mortifying myself as I drooled over him.”

She felt herself wake, without opening her eyes, wanting to curl into the warmth of the couch and the sun shining on her skin. Y/N moved slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position for her arm that had seemed to have remained unmoving whilst curled into her side, and had begun to ache. She went to pull it out from under her and stretch it out towards the fire but instead, she hit something solid and warm in front of her.

Y/N flung her eyes open and saw a large figure covering her view and shrieked, jumping upwards, pushing the figure off the couch along with the couch cushions. She landed a little painfully on planks of wood and springs that made up the inside of the couch.

The figure yelped as they landed on the floor in a heap, rolling over and groaning in pain. Y/N struggled to pull herself out of the couch’s grips, hopping up to face whoever was lying on the floor in front of her.

“What on earth,” The heap groaned again, wincing lightly as they sat upright, rubbing the places where Y/N presumed they had landed moments ago. Y/N caught herself before she let out a gasp.

“Sirius?” Her eyes were wide, staring down at him. He winced again, sitting on his hip and heaving himself upright.

“Yes, what’s – oh, shit,” Realisation dawned on his face as he looked down at himself and Y/N looked immediately up towards the ceiling.

“So why on earth were you naked and lying with me on the couch?” Y/N continued to stare at the ceiling as Sirius searched for something to cover himself with, settling on a small cushion that had also gone flying in Y/N’s panic.

“I uh, fell asleep with you…” His eyes tried to meet hers but moved to the window behind her when she stared back in confusion.

“You, but,” No fucking way, “YOU are the dog?”

“Well, yes,” He smiled very sheepishly at her, eyes apologetic.

“You’re an animagus?” Y/N hissed at him, both shocked and a little frustrated. How long had she been hanging out with this dog, with Sirius? What had she said to him?

“Not so loud, I don’t know if you noticed that no one else knows this,” He looked around carefully, taking a step forward as if to put a finger across her mouth but thought better of it.

“For how long?”

“About three years.”

“You’ve been an illegal animagus for THREE YEARS?” Y/N couldn’t stop her voice from increasing in volume and Sirius gave her another pleading look.

“Why, why didn’t you tell me? Why… why?” Y/N stuttered, feeling her cheeks flush as she remembered talking to him about… himself.

“Well it’s a little lame,” Sirius rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “I saw you here like two months ago, reading a letter from your parents. I remember you used to talk about them being a little uptight about being a witch and well anyway I wanted to say something or do something to make you feel better but… I don’t know we hadn’t spoken for so long and I just…”

“I just didn’t know how you would react if I just came up and asked you what was wrong, I mean if it was me I probably would have told you I was fine and ran away as fast as I could,” He laughed, a little nervously, still avoiding her gaze, “I didn’t even really think about it, I just turned, and then you looked so happy to see me and I don’t know, it felt like I cheered you up…”

He faded off, giving her a sheepish smile.

“And then you just decided to hang out like that every evening?” Y/N felt like she was processing a thousand bits of information at once.

“Oh uh, well, I didn’t always know your schedule. So I sort of just hung around like that. It turned out kinda nice though, getting to cheer people up during their exams. One girl tried to feed me birdseed though, that was disgusting,” His face grimaced from the memory, but Y/N was still stuck on what he had first said.

“You were waiting for me?” Y/N replied slowly, feeling her stomach begin to churn.

“Right, uh, I mean I wasn’t trying to stalk you or anything! You just haven’t seemed yourself lately, I wanted to help in some way.”

“You know you could have just come up and asked me what was wrong,” Y/N laughed at him, but it came out significantly more high-pitched than she’d anticipated.

“Honestly I thought you might still hate me a little.”

“What?” Y/N tried to rack her brain back to anything that he could have done that would have meant she’d hate him, “Why would I hate you?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes, looking genuinely confused, staring at her silently for a minute.

“Because of third year? Your date with Richard Ankleman?”

“Richard? What?” Y/N hadn’t thought about him for years, “the guy who stood me up?”

“He never told you, did he,” Sirius’ face contorted to one of complete embarrassment. For a moment, Y/N thought that he might hit himself with the pillow, but was grateful that he kept it where it was.

“Told me what, Sirius.”

“Ok, uh, well I wasn’t totally thrilled about him asking you out so I, you know in classic idiot Sirius style, hexed him into the Hospital wing so he wouldn’t make it. I mean I did tell him not to tell you, but I didn’t think he was scared enough of me to take me seriously,” He looked, if possible, even more sheepish. Y/N stared at him, eyes wide. How did I not know this?

“You were so furious after you spoke to him the next day, I just presumed he’d told you. You ruined my weeks’ essays, remember?”

Y/N did remember. It was all coming back to her, storming into Gryffindor Common Room in a rage and, with a flick of her wand, opening all the windows and letting in a huge gust of air that swung through the room and knocked over all of Sirius’ ink bottles that were scattered across the desk he was using the finalise his essays.

Y/N hadn’t bothered to stay and watch the aftermath. She had gone to apologise the next day, but he hadn’t been waiting for her in the common room like he always was so they could go down for breakfast together.

“Yeah, I was mad at him! He went on and on about how he was sick and I shouldn’t blame him for standing me up and to not slag him off to any of my other girlfriends in case he asked them out,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the memory, “I went to apologise to you the next day but you kept avoiding me.”

“I thought you’d want to talk about what I did!” Sirius stepped forward, letting out a huge breath he seemed to have been holding, and began gushing, his words falling off his tongue without a second thought, “I’d have to explain why and then you’d realise I was madly in love with you.”

He breathed out a laugh, significantly calmer. Y/N, on the other hand, felt like he’d just punched her in the throat.

“You what?”

“Merlin’s beard, I’m doing terribly today,” He muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair, “Please don’t freak, it was a while ago I promise, it just made me a little crazy back then. We haven’t really spoken properly in ages anyway,” He tried to laugh it off, but Y/N still felt like it was hard to breathe. A silence fell across them, broken only by the sound of Sirius adjusting his pillow awkwardly. Y/N’s heart was beating hard.

“I…” Y/N tried to laugh as well, as if this was a casual thing to say, “I had a bit of a thing for you as well.”

“Oh,”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me!” Y/N scoffed at him, lifting her arms up in exasperation.

“I thought you knew!”

“How on earth would I know that! I’m not a mind reader.”

“I literally spent every waking hour with you, I asked you out!”

“I think I would have noticed if you asked me out you idiot,” Y/N shook her head at him, “Please, tell me when you asked me out.”

“I asked you to Hogsmeade and you invited James to get to know him better, so I kind of got the hint,” Sirius watched Y/N open and close her mouth a couple of times, unsure how to reply, “You didn’t think it was a date.”

“Not really…” Y/N was unsure if she could feel more like an absolute twat, “I thought you were just seeing if I wanted to go, and I wanted to hang out with James cause you guys were hanging out so much!”

“Wow,” Sirius started laughing, shaking his head, “This is actually changing my life.”

Y/N couldn’t help but join in, feeling her nervous energy emanate in awkward laughter.

“I can’t believe how stupid we were,” Y/N snorted, her face still red but breaking out into a large smile that matched Sirius’.

“Merlin, imagine if we hadn’t been so idiotic, things would be very different,” Sirius laughed, but Y/N felt her smile fade a little as she thought about his words. Holding his hand as they snuck around the back of the Herbology classrooms, where they’d previously made fun of couples for hiding. Sirius taking her to his favourite hiding spots around the castle. Y/N actually being there for him when he’d left home, instead of hearing about it through Remus and leaving a bag of Honeydukes sweets on his bed when he wasn’t there.

“Yeah, really different.”

Sirius’ eyes lifted to meet Y/N’s, his eyes darkening slightly. Y/N had forgotten momentarily that he was completely naked and that the light was getting brighter and brighter in the Common Room.

“Y/N, I –“ Sirius started but there was a sudden noise that made him jump backwards and turn his head towards the stairs, “Shit.”

Sirius grimaced, opening his mouth to say something before shaking his head and making a mad dash back up the stairs to the boy's dorm room before anyone came out of the girl's dormitory to find him stark naked and covered by a pillow.

Y/N stood, a little dazed, in the same spot momentarily, staring out the window opposite her until she heard her name getting called.

“Hmmm, what?” She turned to find Lily watching her, an odd expression on her face.

“Did I hear you talking to someone?”

“No, wait yes, Sirius was down here a second ago, he just went upstairs to get dressed.”

“Right…” Lily still seemed to stare at Y/N, whose expression was likely just as confusing.

“Um, why are you up so early?” Y/N changed the subject quickly, moving to sit back on the couch where the cushions had been hastily thrown earlier.

“Have a meeting with Professor McGonagall about getting a reference for my internship at St Mungo’s,” Lily grinned, “I’m hoping she’ll forgive me dating James.”

“Ahh, she secretly loves James’ shenanigans.”

“Let’s hope so,” Lily sighed, “You coming down for breakfast?”

“Yes – no wait, I’m not dressed am I?” Y/N looked down at herself, still wearing her clothes from the day before, “Oh.”

“Are you ok?” Lily looked concerned, “You didn’t get a concussion yesterday did you?”

“No, I’m fine, sorry, still a little tired obviously. You go ahead, I’ll meet you in the Great Hall,” Y/N gave what she hoped was a convincing smile and moved quickly down towards the girls’ dorm rooms.

Y/N felt like the whole day moved in a kind of daze. Many people went back to Hogsmeade but Y/N opted to join Marlene and Dorcas down by the lake as Dorcas debriefed them on her date the day before.

“Should I have kissed her? I feel like I should have and I just fucked up big time,” Dorcas groaned, throwing her bag down and joining it in a heap on the grass.

“You definitely should have kissed her,” Marlene replied solemnly, “Y/N, what do you think? I reckon she was giving off vibes big time.”

“What?” Y/N looked up at the two girls, both of whom glared at her.

“Were you even listening to me?” Dorcas huffed, “This is an important life or death situation, Y/N. I may have just ruined my first date with the love of my life.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“What’s going on with you, you’ve been out of it all day,” Marlene probed, joining Dorcas on the grass, letting her legs sit out in the sun.

“Nothing, I’m just distracted, sorry,” Y/N dipped her toe in the lake, “You definitely should have kissed her, D.”

“Don’t change the subject!” Dorcas poked her shin with her toe, “or depress me more.”

“Tell usssssss,” Marlene whined at Y/N, “Come on, it’s nearly graduation, we might never ever see each other again and you’ll regret having never shared this precious information with us.”

“Ha ha ha,” Y/N poked her tongue out at Marlene who was pouting, “I just… ugh. Ok, well I sort of spoke to Sirius this morning.”

“I’m excited already,” Marlene grinned, leaning forwards, “Did he profess his love for you yet?”

“I actually hate you,” Y/N bit her lip, “But also like kinda?”

“WHAT,” The two girls had wide eyes, Dorcas’ mouth hanging open slightly.

“Ok well, that’s an over-exaggeration, it was more like he had a crush on me years ago.”

“Less interesting, pretty obvious,” Marlene huffed, leaning back into her arms.

“How!” Y/N glared at her, “how on earth could you know this.”

“Ooooo Y/N, I’m just going to stare at you longingly from across the table all subtle-like,” Marlene put on a terrible deep male voice, staring longingly at Y/N.

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” warned Y/N, but her cheeks twitched as Marlene began to pout in an eerily accurate impression of a brooding Sirius.

“Soooo did he ask you out?”

“Did you make out?”

“We did nothing, at all.”

“You’re as bad as Dorcas,” Marlene shook her head, earning a shove from Dorcas.

“We were interrupted by Lily,” Y/N threw her hands up, “It kind of sounded like… he might have been saying something important…”

“Oooooooo Y/N’s got a date!” Marlene giggled, grinning widely at her. Y/N couldn’t help but grin back at her, Marlene’s enthusiasm was infectious.

“I do not,” said Y/N, but her smile was still giving her away. Marlene reached out and grabbed her arms, pulling her down into the grass with Dorcas.

“You will be a positive human even if I have to punch it into you. Now, sit down and get all brown and tan with me.”

They stayed by the lake until Dorcas’ stomach started rumbling and they made their way to lunch in the Great Hall. It was almost empty, most people having grabbed some food to eat outside or were still in Hogsmeade for the afternoon. Y/N spent most of her meal ignoring Marlene nudging her once Sirius and James had walked in and sat a few seats along the table from them. She also tried to ignore the sound of chairs moving and someone moving quickly behind her once they’d finished and stood up to leave the Great Hall, but her heart had begun beating hard in her chest again, and she cursed her cheeks for refusing to let her hide any kind of emotion from the outside world.

“Oi, Y/N!” Y/N spun around to see Sirius chasing her down the hallway.

“I’ll catch up to you guys,” Y/N tried to smile casually at Marlene and Dorcas, who were winking at her continuously, Marlene blowing kisses in between, “Fuck off, please.”

“Have fun!”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“She can’t even kiss a girl, please do everything she wouldn’t do.”

“Shoo!” Y/N hissed, turning back to see Sirius smirking at her, “Please excuse my two idiotic friends.”

“They are highly entertaining.”

“I stand by idiotic,” Y/N looked up at Sirius expectantly, “What’s up?”

“Well I feel like we didn’t quite finish our conversation earlier.”

“Is that so?”

“Well I mean, I was half-naked and had to sprint up the stairs to avoid being seen.”

“Completely naked if I remember correctly.”

“Ahhh so you were checking me out huh?” Sirius winked at her, stepping closer to her in the hallway. Y/N had the urge to step back, her brain telling her to abort mission, but she stood her ground, watching him closely.

“So what was it you needed to tell me?” said Y/N as calmly as possible, though her voice broke slightly at the end.

“Well I was going to – uh, I mean I wanted to ask – “ Sirius’ stuttered slightly, his face getting flustered. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at him, was he nervous to talk to her?

His nervousness seemed to give Y/N a new bout of confidence, and she stepped forward to meet him.

“You were going to…”

“Ask you…”

“Out?” Y/N finished for him, feeling a little ill, but excited all the same. Sirius laughed at her, shaking his head.

“Jeez, we already finish each other’s senten-“ Y/N leaned in and interrupted him by placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“ences…” Sirius finished, his eyes glazing over as they pulled apart slowly.

“The day after graduation, I’ll meet you in London,” Y/N felt the words spill out, as if her confidence was a ticking bomb and if she didn’t get everything out quickly it would all blow up and float away.

“Deal,” replied Sirius, cupping her cheek lightly in one hand, “And thanks.”

“For what?”

“For asking you out for me.”

“What can I say, I just know what you want,” and with that, she turned on her heels and walked away, her heartbeat loud in her ears. Only took seven years she thought, exhaling deeply, but I guess we’ve got endless time to make up for it.

Taglist

@averytruerayofsunshine @siriuslyjanhvi @blushingskywalker @blackpinkdolan @thebabblingbookworm @cherrie511 @imlukesnirvana​ @avengersassemblee​ @maraudersandco​ @sly-vixen-up2nogood​ @katbernoulli @sirius-lysad​ @evyiione​ @minerva26love​ @aikeia​ @gollyderek​ @greatwombatblaze​  @songforhema​  @your-typical-giggle @myownviperroom 

[stonecoldjerseyfox]

Jersey on my mind (part 36)

When the darkness falls over the quiet, enclosed suburb, turns quiet. The clinking from the construction site stops, the volume of the residents’ voices is turned down, there’s no sound of cars or gunshots. Instead, on the other side of the wall, as soon as the sun has set, the cicadas begin to sing. Their clicking and chirping noises, their mating call, is powerful enough to overpower the rattling, guttural sounds that the walkers make. But it’s not the high pitched mating call from the loud insects that lures the Alexandria residents out this night and to gather at the new wall, next to the construction site, but the scent of a hot stew boiling over a crackling fire, a pleasant buzz and the feeling of belonging. The feeling of a secure, pleasant atmosphere, the social needs; to gather up around the fire, eat and drink together.

He’d never understand the almost collective need all other people felt about socializing with others, in all sorts of social forms. Daryl still doesn’t understand it; he’s incapable of feeling that need and large crowds make his skin crawl. For him, it doesn’t matter, but for the sake of the community, he participates. Somehow he has learned how to handle it, accept that others need to sit down to eat with others. And like this, at the end of the world; well, he goes with the flow. Sometimes, not that he would admit it, it’s actually pretty fine. 

It’s the feeling of fine that’s laying over him as he walks over the grassy lawn next to the calm pond, with Juri ridin’ on his shoulders. The small, soft hands clings to his worn out vest and he softly bounces the heels of his small sneakers towards his chest.

“Ya’ sure ya’ up for this?” Daryl looks to his right, down at Mila.

Mila mumbles something inaudible in response. She walks somewhat stiffly, pulling Daryl back in time to when she stumbled up the stairs when she healed from the machete-wound, but she’s too damn stubborn, or proud, to say anything. She wouldn’t admit defeat even if she lost a leg, he’s sure ‘bout that. 

Behind him, Daryl hears hurried steps towards the soft grass, whereupon Carol walks up next to Mila.

“Look at that-” Carol smiles. “I was thinkin’ I wouldn’t see you three for the rest of the day.” She looks with a radiant smile up, above Daryl’s head, at Juri. In the presence of Juri, Daryl’s like air to Carol; she adores the blonde little rascal clinging to Daryl’s shoulders, who’s probably giving Carol a wide, sunny smile back.

“There’s no chance we’d miss dinner.” Mila says and nods up at Juri. “One doesn’t simply say no to soup.” 

“You’re right about that.” Carol sniffs the air. “It smells delicious.”

A couple of the original Alexandria folks  have already set up, prepared and started to serve dinner when they arrive. Well, he already knew; in his mind Daryl curses Glenn for what happened earlier. Over the firepit a big pot is spreading a pleasant scent of vegetables, broth and herbs around the perimeter. With ease Daryl grabs Juri under the arms and lifts him over his head and puts him down on the ground. He adjusts the legs in his small pants before he runs around the fire, to Carl and Judith.

“Off he goes.” Carol says with a chuckle and crosses her arms.

“Juri-” Mila hollers and waves at him. “We’ll eat first, then you can play. Davay!”

Over the fire they see how Juri nods, then gives Judith a pat on the cheek before he runs back around the fire. On the way, he’s hauled in by Abraham, who lifts him off the ground into his arms, while bursting into an open guffaw.  “What ‘ave we got here!” He utters between the clenched teeth, holding the small stump of a bad cigar in place.

As Juri wrestles Abraham, Daryl turns to Mila, who’s in action to attempt sitting down on the barked log. Goddamn stubborn wonderful woman, he thinks as he watches her bite the bullet, bending her knees to lower herself down. The bruise on her hip, the one that turned all red in front of his eyes while she was in the shower couldn’t be missed. It looked like hell. With a firm but gentle grip around her upper arm Daryl helps her down; Mila grimaces slightly, then gives him a grateful, silent ‘thank you’, hugging his hand with hers as she’s in position.

“If you could get me a bowl, I’d be forever grateful.” She says softly. “I’m not twenty anymore.”

Daryl can’t help but grin slightly.

“Yes ma’am.” He lets his fingers softly slip out of her grip, a touch that sends warm, pleasant sparks throughout his arm, and goes over to the fire, where Abraham and Sasha stand, preoccupied with Juri. “Go easy on ‘im, kiddo.” He smirks at Juri, tirelessly wrestling around in Abraham’s arms. Juri opens his mouth into what looks like a roar, a very silent roar, exposing his small, sharp white baby teeth towards his captor.

“Heh, well how ‘bout that!” Abraham exclaims dramatically. “I’ve caught a tiger! Must be ma’ lucky day!”

Juri looks somewhat displeased at Abraham’s proclamation. He shakes his head, making the blonde mane dance. Then he shapes his little hand into a claw and pulls it back over his head, while making his roaring face, and a hissing sound; the closest he can get to an actual roar. Daryl blinks at him.

“Ya’ don’t see the difference between a tiger and a lion?” Daryl glances amusedly at Abraham, who gives him a mighty impressed face behind the mustache. Daryl’s far from an expert, but he remembers the sign for ‘lion’ pretty well by now. 

Juri repeats his silent roar, before he pats the big red haired, red bearded man on the bushy cheek and wrestles out of his grip. He runs over to Mila, where he was heading when he was captured, and throws himself head first into her lap. She laughs and digs her fingers into the sides of his stomach, making Juri flounder his legs in the air behind him. 

“Good heavens-” Abraham looks over at Juri and sighs; the big man gets a look upon his face that Daryl hasn’t seen before. A wishful glance of resignation for the little boy that makes everyone he meets smile. “He’s precious. What a blessing it is, havin’ those lil’ ones around, right? Makes one reevaluate what we are fighting for. Well, there’s the answer.” He shifts his gaze to Daryl. “Ya’ lucky, Dixon.”

Well, what should he say in response? Daryl nods, barely noticeable; he’s not sure what Abe meant by that. Does he mean what Daryl believes, or more like what Daryl wants him to refer to? He glances at Mila and Juri, now sitting curled up next to each other, talking to Carol. Juri’s little hand is clasped around Mila’s finger and he looks so calm, so happy and healthy. And Mila, who awakes feelings inside of him that are difficult to describe in words. Well, he cannot deny that he likes what he sees. Three of the most important persons in his life, together; his best friend, the woman who’s the love of his life and the kid he would take a bullet for. 

“Yup, he knows.” Sasha states with a grin and buffs Daryl in the side. “Look at that, Abe, our archer’s in-”

“Shut it.” Daryl cuts Sasha off in a husky voice, instinctively lowering his eyes to the ground.

“Just sayin’-” Sasha says, still grinning amusedly, as she’s handed a bowl and a piece of bread from the woman, Liz, scooping up soup. 

“Minestrone.” She smiles as Daryl hoarsely asks for four bowls. “There’s bread too, but I doubt you can carry that too.” She continues jokingly as Daryl manages to hold on to two bowls with each hand. It ain’t hard, he’s used to carrying’ around a couple of ferrets or other dead animals without problems while out hunting. 

“Yeah.” Daryl replies mumbly and returns to Mila, Juri and Carol. “Here ya’ go, kiddo.” He hands Juri a bowl, then hands out the others to Mila and Carol before sitting down between the two women. “Ladies.”

“Thank you.” Carol says pleased. “This looks yummy!” She sniffs the rising steam from the soup and stirs it around. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I love to cook! But it sure is luxurious to have food prepared for you like this. Like being in a restaurant.” 

“What lousy places did Ed take ya’ to?” Daryl lifts his head and looks at Carol with a raised eyebrow.

“None.” Carol blinks at him. “That’s why this is extra special.”

“That won’t do.” Mila says and looks at Juri, who’s in full action to stir his spoon around the bowl. “Ostorozhneye. Careful, it’s hot.” She exhorts and returns to Carol. “I’ll invite you to bistro Sergeyevna someday. Best russian home cooking around. You’ll not have to go hungry.” Mila takes a spoonful of soup and meets Daryl’s eyes. “So, what’s on the menu at the Daryl Dixon diner, then?”

“Game.” He replies simply. Why complicate things?

“Yeah it would probably be some sort of barbeque.” Carol agrees. “Steak house, I’d call it.”

The two women laugh, Daryl shakes his head with a faint smile; well, he’s glad they’re having fun. While Mila and Carol talk about all sorts of food he’d never even heard of, Daryl looks around the gathered community. He briefly meets Glenn’s face; the terrified face he had earlier, bursting into the bedroom, is all gone and all seems to be as usual. Well, if Glenn felt embarrassed about it, it was nothing in comparison what Daryl felt - completely mortified. The anger had quickly turned into shame; like the time Merle happened to walk in on him with his first conquest, well... the first girl he tried to get it on with ever. She left in a hurry, he never saw her again and Merle tantalized him for days afterwards. It was only thanks to Mila’s easy outlook on the matter Daryl set his foot out of the door to go to dinner; at first she laughed about it, then entrusted him that she’d happened to walk in on Glenn and Maggie both once and twice ‘doing it’ since her arrival in Alexandria. 

“They seem very fond of fresh air.” She said casually as she stepped into a pair of clean jeans after the shower. “The first time I just laughed.” Mila shrugged and shook her head. “Second time not as much. He’ll get over it. Worse things have happened.”

He glances at Glenn again, they nod at each other before returning to their bowls with great interest. Daryl shifts his focus to Juri, who has emptied his bowl of pasta. Instead he plunges his spoon into Milas bowl, who’s still engaged in conversation with Carol, and starts to clear her soup of macaronis. In return he drops red peppers into her bowl. When the big blue eyes notices being watched, he looks up at Daryl and lifts his small index finger in front of his mouth in a shushing gesture.

“They’re good for ya’.” Daryl says and puts a spoonful of soup in his mouth. “Makes ya’ big and strong, like a lion.”

When the dinner’s over and they’ve cracked open both two and three beers, collected by Spencer and a few others during a run earlier in the day, around the crackling and heating fire, Juri starts to yawn. He makes himself comfortable in Mila’s lap, covered by her jacket, while resting his feet on Daryl’s thighs. After unleashing his third lionesque yawn within a few minutes, Mila states that it’s time for him to sleep.

“Time to put on pajamas, malysh.” Mila gets up from her place laboriously, with Juri in her arms. The blonde head rests on her shoulder and he looks sleepy. “Say ‘goodnight everybody’.” Mila says and glances at Juri, who throws kisses to right and left, before she starts walking in the direction of the houses, while talking to Juri about what goodnight story they shall read.

“He’s lovely.” Carol chuckles softly, looking after the toddler as they are engulfed by the darkness. “Did you see what he drew earlier? At the cul-de-sac?”

Daryl shakes his head. He just saw the happy trees and the sun in front of the house. Carol grins and chuckles once more.

“Ya’ gonna tell me ‘bout it?” He asks. 

“Go check it out later.” Carol shakes her head and smiles. “It’s sweet.”

“Sure.” Daryl takes another sip of beer. “Whatcha thinkin’ bout this other group, the looters?” He looks at Carol. “Honestly.”

“I don’t know.” Carol replies, rubbing her hands against each other to warm them. “Frankly, I think it would be foolish to think we’re alone out here. I think we should be prepared at all times, looters or no looters. Walls or not, we’re never entirely safe.” She looks down at her hands, then back at him. “I’m glad you made it back safe.” 

“Yeah.” He puts down the empty bottle between his boots, rests his forearms at his thighs and looks into the dancing flames. “Thought I’d lost her there for a while.”

“Well you didn’t.” Carol says with ease. “Why ponder what could happen, when it didn’t?”

Yeah he has thought about that too. Still he can’t help but feel guilty. Carol’s right. Nothing happened, nothing worse than a couple of bruises. He smiles faintly at her.

“That’s the spirit, Pookie.” Carol pats him on the cheek. “Well, I’m off to bed.” 

She gets up from the log and wraps her knitted sweater tighter around her. Daryl follows, they say goodnight to the others and start to walk back towards the house. When they reach the porch the front door opens and Mila steps out, wrapped in his poncho as protection against the cold. The long hair lies in a tousled braid over her shoulder and she smiles at them when they walk up the steps.

“Sleep’s like a rock.” Mila greets them while wrapping the woolen poncho tighter around her shoulders. “Barely made it halfway through Benjy’s Dog House.” 

“He’s had a busy day.” Carol says. “Good night you two.”

“Night.” Daryl responds.

Carol opens the door, walks into the dimly lit house and closes the door behind her. They are left alone on the porch, Mila leaned up against the white post, Daryl standing on the second step.

“Wanna go for a walk?” She smiles softly. “It’s a nice evening. Starlit.” 

He nods and a warm feeling spreads throughout his body as she slips her arm into an arm hook with his. They start walking, or more like dragging their feets along the empty road. It’s a cool evening, but spring is on its way. It’s in the air, he can smell it. 

At the cul-de-sac they stop, looking down at the street. Juri sure kept himself busy while they were gone. He’s drawn most of the Atlanta group. The figures are made out of blocks, but they’re pretty good for a three and a half-year old. In the starlight he can see Carl and Judith, Morgan holding a stick, the church with a broken church tower, the houses and- he spots three figures standing close together. One small, one tall and one somewhere in between. He does recognize himself, the childishly drawn crossbow and the vest is hard to miss.

“That’s-” He points.

“Yup.” Mila says, squeezes his arm tighter. “Picasso has outdone himself on this one, right?”

Fuck, he suddenly feels all squeamish. But it’s darn cute.

“He’s great.” He says hoarsely and swallows, puts his arm around Mila’s shoulders. “Really.”

They continue to walk, until they stop at a parked pickup; shoulder to shoulder they lean up against the truck bed, eyes fixed on the sky, before they climb up on the truck bed and sit down. Daryl leans up against the back of the cab and Mila curls up against him, braiding his arms around her.

“I love to watch the stars.” Mila sighs, her breath stands like a vague cloud above her mouth in the cool evening air. 

He can’t disagree, however the mere thought of space, the vast eternity that is spread out above them, scares him.

“It’s like the sea.” He says. “Too big.”

“You’ve ever been to the sea?” Mila asks.

“Nah.” He replies. “Haven’t been around much.”

“We’ll go there someday. That would be nice.” Mila says softly, like a summer breeze, but suddenly she gasps. “Look!” She points up towards the sky. “A shooting star.”

Daryl tilts his head back, eyes fixed at the sky. A small, bright white dot shoots over the starry sky, passes its neighboring, resting stars, cheering it on while twinkling. He’s seen stars fall before, but this one shines brighter than any other he has ever seen. As if it was the brightest star in the sky, calling out for attention.

“Some say fallen stars represent souls that have been released from purgatory, so they can begin the ascent to heaven and eternal peace.” Mila says. “Others say they represent the soul of a new life falling to Earth. My mama always said shooting stars possess magic and good luck for anyone who happens to gaze upon one.” She turns her head and looks up at him. “Come on, make a wish.”

“About what?” He asks.

Mila shrugs a little underneath the poncho.

“Anything.” She replies. “But don’t tell me. Then the magic stops working.” Mila closes her eyes. “Close your eyes and make a wish.”

Daryl sighs. He doesn’t believe in magic, but for her sake he closes his eyes. Wish what, he wonders; right now he can’t seem to think of anything he wants. Nothing more than he already got. It’s just mumbo jumbo. Half-heartedly he thinks of something, before he opens his eyes and looks down at Mila’s dark, soft hair. As for now he’s got all he needs.

“Ya’ made a wish?” 

Mila smiles, a good enough answer.   

“Do you ever wonder what life would be like, if all this hadn’t happened? I mean, if all of this hadn’t happened-” Mila turns her head backwards, towards him. ”-you’d taken me out to the movies? Or a bar?” 

”Not sure I’d dare to ask ya’ out at all.” Daryl replies in all honesty. She had never even looked in his direction in such a scenario, because the other guy, Jim, had been alive. ”To be fair, ya’ outta my league, Jersey.” He therefore says. 

”Schh.” Mila hushes softly and curls up closer to him. “Yerunda. Gibberish. Please, play pretend. Take me on an adventure, Dixon.”

She becomes silent and rests in his arms, head upon his chest; her hand finds its way to his collarbone and softly she caresses it. Her touch is affectionate, loving. Daryl thinks to the point of him almost getting a headache. He has no idea what he would have done in such a scenario, he can’t even imagine it in his wildest imagination. A bar? Nah, that would never work. He has never set foot in a movie theatre and he would never dream of going out to eat. Mila is all rock concerts, karaoke, bar rounds and hanging out with friends. Daryl doesn’t know much about any of those things, minus the drinking. Wait, didn’t she used to go hiking? 

“I-” He pauses, hesitating slightly before he continues, remembers. “There’s a place.” 

A memory he most of all wanted to repress, or simply just chose not to spend time on. It wasn’t long before the outbreak. He had had enough of everything; Merle, himself and life. The days before was a jumble of alcohol, drugs and gut punches. They hung out at Merle’s junkie pal’s house, the same house where they each and every day drank themselves to the point of no return, where he’d been half beaten to death, threatened with a gun and whatnot. The place he reluctantly had called ’home’ for quite some time until Merle managed to get a place on his own, where he let Daryl stay. It more or less turned into Daryl’s place since Merle was in and out in prison more than he wasn’t. Being involved in the contraband of meth gave him a prison punch ticket, but he rarely went in for longer periods. As soon as he got out there was a party that went on for days. Booze, drugs, prostitutes and fights in a never-ending loop. 

That day when he stormed off, he’d just been in another fight. Once again Merle stood by and watched, too drunk and high to really care, leaving Daryl to fend for himself against three beefy bikers that did a pretty good number on him. It was as if the zest for life was knocked out of him, bit by bit, for every blow he received, until he managed to fend them off and fled out of there with only one thought in his head; “This ends now.”   

In a fit of rage, he set off on the motorcycle; where to, he didn’t know. Whether it was fate or his subconscious that took him out into the wilderness that afternoon, he doesn’t know til this day. But he stood on the brakes at a lay-by at the edge of the mountains with a throbbing head. His thoughts raced, blood boiled in his veins and he got off the motorcycle, didn’t care to either park properly or remove the key from the ignition. He wouldn’t need it anymore. Without purpose or meaning, he went out into the wilderness, equipped only with a knife, crossbow and a gun. He kept looking upwards while climbing, resilient like a fox, uphill. It didn’t matter that he cut himself on sharp rocks or slipped, he no longer felt pain. Suddenly the slope ended and he found himself standing on almost leveled ground. He moved forward, knowing that he would soon reach the precipice. However he misjudged his route and he came out on a raw ledge, a lookout point that had not yet become part of the hike trail. Staggering, with his heart in his throat, he stumbled out onto the ledge where he collapsed; head spinning, eardrums beating. He cried out with rage, his cry of anger bouncing between the rocks and the peaks. He sat up, pulled his knees up to his chin and felt how everything was breaking apart around him. It was over. It was now or never.

Nature has a strange, almost supernatural power to feel how it can be in danger. How its beauty can quickly face a threat, how it in the blink of an eye can change forever and never being able to repair itself from such a tragedy. Just as Daryl took -what he thought was- his last breath, deep into his lungs, and was about to let his finger pull the trigger, Mother Nature intervened. The sky burst open, a cloud moved and paved the way for the sun to let through its rays that lay over the view and colored it as if by magic, in a myriad of colors. The sudden change, how all the gray suddenly turned green, yellow, red, orange, pink and blue, made him hesitate. He exhaled, gasping for breath and feeling the beads of sweat dripping down his hands, which cramped around the pistol handle.

The treetops that burst out of the soft fog that lingered after the rain before seemed to float in the air. The pistol slid out of his grip, his muscles didn’t seem to be able to hold it up and he sat with his arms hanging along the sides, the backs of his hands resting against the cold, hard stone. With tears streaming down his cheeks, the first time he cried in god knows how long, Daryl watched the surrounding beauty, while the breeze gently caressed his face, like the soft touch of a loving mother, the mother he never had. As if it pleaded to him to breathe, to take in everything around him, the beauty and the wilderness. This was his home, this was his safe space. Nature wouldn’t hurt him. Daryl’s eyes fell upon the gun next to him. He took it and threw it in a wide arc into the air, down the cliff ledge. Not his will, but Mother Nature’s.

“I’d take ya’ up the Blue Ridge mountains.” He says therefore.

“Like the John Denver song?” Mila starts to hum. “Almost Heaven, West Virginia… Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River- is it?”

“It ain’t far from here.” Daryl adjusts, makes himself comfortable against the back of the cab. “There’s this place, down Chattahoochee National Forest, at the southern edge of the mountains.”

“Oh come on, now you’re just making names up for fun!” Mila laughs softly, still with her eyes closed. “Chattahoochee? Another country song?”

“Will ya’ lemme do this or not? It’s a goddamn river.” Daryl says. ”I grew up there, ‘round the northern mountains, nearby Blue Ridge.” He continues, wraps his arms tighter around her, tries his best to fantasize a scenario in his head; he has never had a particularly vivid imagination. Maybe as a kid, but that’s a long time ago. “We’d drive out there in summer, when it’s all green; Watch the azaleas bloom in scarlet, crimson, orange- There’s so much life out there one couldn’t believe their eyes if they could only see it. Most folks don't, like they’re blind. But they’re out there. Foxes, songbirds hindin’ up the tall pines. Grouses, coyotes... A place where no human has dared to put its foot down. It’s untamed, maybe the last wild, untouched place on earth.” Daryl pauses. He doesn’t know much about the world. He hasn’t traveled, barely been outside Georgia. But he’s still sure of his thing, feels it in his body. He’s more familiar with nature, the wild, than anything. He spent more time in the woods and up the mountains than in his godforsaken childhood home. “There’s an undisturbed ledge up the mountains-” He continues, holding her closer as he watches the stars, his eyelids begin to feel heavy. “We’d put up camp there, an open fire. Roast something, corn, game… watch the sunset over the mountaintops, listen to the coyotes-” He closes his eyes and at the memory of how the sky let through the sun and lit up the whole valley, he can not help but smile faintly. “-watch the sunrise over the treetops.” 

More than that he doesn’t get time to tell, before he’s lulled into sleep with Mila on the truck bed.

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part eighteen) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±7450 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part eighteen: A week later Dean and Y/N are training for the Flagstaff Horse Show, a last repetition for Congress. They are enjoying the honeymoon phase of their relationship, until Bobby calls Dean into his office. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music:  ‘Little Boy’ - Barns Courtney (scene Singer house), ‘The Farm’ - Thomas Newman.  Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: I’m excited for this one, y’all! Thank you @kittenofdoomage​, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​ and @winchest09​ for helping me. You girls are awesome betas and friends. 

Ride With Me Masterlist

     “More leg, Y/N. Keep rhythm in that circle!”      Dean has climbed up on the fence of the large arena. His hands are folded together and his elbows rest on his knees, the heels of his cowboy boots hooked behind the lower bar. He watches a horse and rider in front of him from under his hat, picking up even the tiniest flaw and highlighting what’s done well.      As her trainer gives directions, Y/N pushes her calves a little tighter against Meadow’s flank, her right hand outstretched towards the mare’s ears as they finish their circle at speed. Elevated in her stirrups slightly, she makes sure the circle stays perfectly round while maintaining the constant one-two-three beat of hooves drumming against the earth. She can hear Dean’s strong and clear voice above the noise of the wind.      “There ya go. Nice one!”  

     It’s 6.45 AM and the sun has just risen, its early rays of daybreak warming the headwrangler’s back. The nights are getting colder, even in the valley, so the warmth is pleasantly welcome. Summer has come to an end, which means the ranchers are following a different work schedule now. Downside; their midday siestas are no longer a thing, at least not until spring. Upside, they start an hour and a half later in the morning. When he says ‘they’, he means ‘everyone but him and Y/N’, because they have been training for Congress every day. 

     The perfect final repetition for the big event in Columbus is a local horse show in Flagstaff, coming up this weekend. Gold Canyon ranch is going there with a truckload of horses and both Jo and Dean are competing. The head wrangler  convinced Y/N to sign up as well. They can test the new freestyle and see how Meadow does in competition, since it’s been a while since she last showed. 

     Pleased, he observes the woman who was born to ride. They are ready, no doubt about that. He knows it; the only person who needs to believe it now is Y/N.      “Wanna practise a few stops and call it a day? Wouldn’t wanna overwork her,” he suggests when her horse comes past in a slow canter, or a lope.      “No spins?” she checks, not confident with leaving such an essential element out of her training.      Dean smiles at her eagerness; ever the perfectionist.      “I’ve never seen you two screw up a spin. Don’t worry, they are solid,” he reassures.

     She nods while looking over her shoulder, then straightens her back, following the movements of her horse. When she reaches the short end of the arena, she steers away from the fence, bringing Meadow onto the straight line out of another perfect circle. Y/N doesn’t get the chance to give aid to pick up momentum, because before they are fully straightened out, her partner speeds up already.       “Circle her back. Let her wait,” Dean instructs.      The cowgirl tilts her pelvis slightly and sinks deeper in the saddle, before swerving away from the line. She shakes her head disapproving. Come on, Y/N, you can do better than that.  

     “She keeps taking over,” Y/N ponders, slowing down when approaching her trainer.      “She’s a smart horse. Most of the time that works in your favor, sometimes it doesn't. She wants to anticipate instead of letting you do the thinkin’. You don’t wanna discourage her enthusiasm, so what you gotta do is keep her busy. Give her something to do, vary your patterns. Throw her off her game a lil’ bit,” Dean explains to his pupil, who listens intently.      “Ride down the line again, but don’t do the usual sliding stop at the end. Don’t speed up, don’t even think about the stop, okay? All you’re gonna do is let her wait for your call.”      Y/N nods, feeling a little bit more confident after being given directions. “Okay.” 

     She moves her reins over Meadow’s mane, turning her around, gently aiding her to hustle forward in an easy canter. When she’s back at the short end of the large pen, the rider lets her horse roll away from the fence and onto the line again. She can feel the power under her, so much energy waiting for a release and ready to bolt.      “Steady... Just sit and relax. Let her figure it out,” Dean calls out, loud enough to reach his student’s ears several yards away.      A little confused Meadow pulls at the bit slightly, but Y/N does exactly what she’s supposed to do. Instead of punishing the behavior, she ignores it and lopes down the line, repeating the exercise. The second time around, the American Quarter mare already has her ears perked at her rider, waiting for a cue.      “Change leads. Try the same thing on the right hand.”       Trying to sit loose in the saddle, moving with the thousand pound animal under her, Y/N guides her horse onto the diagonal line and crosses the arena. Normally she would do a flying change in the center, a transition from left to right canter during the brief moment of suspension, almost like the horse is skipping. However, this time the rider decides against it, making Meadow wait until she reaches the other end, where Dean is watching his pupil closely from the fence.      “Smart, well done! That’s riding, Yankee,” the head wrangler compliments.

     With a smile on her face she continues the exercize, working on her horse’s assertiveness and patience instead of the actual pattern. Dean has a point; she can ride the test blindfolded. Hell, blindfold Meadow too and they would still be able to nail it, but only if the mare is willing to wait and follow her lead.      The third time Y/N canters up the simple straight line, the bay mare relaxes, lowering her head a little more and calmly keeping a slow and steady rhythm. It’s exactly the response Dean was hoping for.      “Next straight you do the sliding stop,” he says, just loud enough for the rider to hear, as if he’s worried the intelligent horse might pick up on it and understand what he’s saying. 

     Calm, Meadow turns the corner to the straight line, her breaths even, loose muscles rolling under her damp skin. This time Y/N can give the Quarterhorse an aid before she increases speed, which she does with powerful strides. When the mare is going down the line full throttle, Y/N counts down. Three… two… one…

     The rider sinks deep into the leather of her saddle, pushing her stirrups forward and braces for the sudden stop. She can feel Meadow’s hindquarters lower when she plants her hocks into the soil of the arena. They slide several yards, leaving skid marks in the sand, and when the combination has come to a complete halt, Y/N moves her weight slightly to one side and takes the reins with her as well. The eager horse performs a rollback, a movement right after a stop during which the horse turns on her hind quarters and canters forward in the direction they came from.      “That was awesome!” Dean exclaims. “Cool her down; she’s done for today.” 

     Pleased, Y/N lets her precious four legged friend transition to an easy jog, patting her on the shoulder. She feels beyond relieved that her training went so well. With her former trainer Marcel, the final repetition before a show usually meant bootcamp, pushing Meadow to her limits. But Dean treats her differently. He thinks things through, looks beyond the pattern itself and can really pinpoint what they need to work on, and often it’s not the routine itself, but the preparation and the foundation of horse riding.

     “She felt really good, huh?” Dean looks up at the rider, seemingly content, as they exit the arena and walk back to the tack up area.      “She did. I’m excited for tomorrow,” Y/N returns, halting under the Joshua tree. “Have you seen the starting order?”      Dean nods as he glances up at her, narrowing his eyes when the sun peeks under his hat and blinds him. “I have.”      “I’m fifth on the list,” the cowgirl mutters, not happy about her draw. “Any good riders in my class?”      The head wrangler reads his student carefully, who is clearly fishing for answers. He’s very much aware where this is coming from. It’s a trait of hers, one that used to be much more evident, yet still surfaces every so often, especially in a new situation or uncertain times; she’s insecure.

     “Does it matter?” her trainer reminds her. “Eyes on the ball, Yankee. Flagstaff is just a practice run for Congress.”      “Sure, but I still want to win,” Y/N counters, matter of factly. “Oh, talking about Congress…”       She looks down on Dean, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. “I booked our room.”      His brow perks up, staring at his girlfriend for a second. That seductive look in her eyes is giving him all sorts of ideas. “Our room?”       “Yeah, most hotels were fully booked, and this room is one of the few I could find,” she adds, teasingly, swinging her leg over the front of her horse, making sure her spur doesn’t hurt Meadow’s neck. “And you know what? There’s only one bed.”      “You don’t say,” Dean smirks, stepping closer and running his hand up her denim clad legs slowly.      She nods, not dismounting her horse just yet, but taking off her western hat and hanging it on the horn of the saddle. Instead, she seductively keeps her eyes locked on his green ones, the sunlight bringing out a hint of amber in them. “We don’t have to worry about squeaky bunk beds, or waking half the ranch…”      “Or Garth taking a piss,” Dean recalls.      She laughs, leaning forward now and slipping from the saddle smoothly, but Dean catches her, holding her up.

     The cowgirl folds her arms around his neck. “You know, I read this research paper on how sex actually increases dopamines, which results in the athlete performing better.”       “Interesting,” Dean is barely able to stop his trademark grin from showing, the effort creating dimples in his cheeks. “Would you like to test that theory?”      “I booked us a suite with a queen size bed. What do you think?” she chuckles, so comfortable in his arms.       “Well, in that case I’m more than willing to go the extra mile for my favorite student,” he grins, lowering her to the ground, after which he kisses her sweetly.

     Meadow turns her ear towards the pair when Y/N’s back brushes against the saddle. She doesn’t take advantage of her owner being distracted and waits patiently, even though she’s not tied up to the pole yet. If the cowgirl didn’t know any better, she’d claim her horse has been their matchmaker all along, casually walking a little closer to Dean’s horse whenever they rode side by side, even taking a liking to the wrangler, despite that she has never been a huge fan of men. 

     Dean reels the cowgirl in, letting his hand roam over her hips as he deepens the kiss. He can’t get enough of her, especially now that he has surrendered in the battle he was fighting with himself. Ever since he let his guard down and submitted to the feelings that lay deep, the weight he was carrying seems a little less. To have someone to share his life and his passion with, knowing that she’s his and no one else’s, it’s something he never expected to find. It’s certainly not something he feels like he deserves, but he has managed to push that denigrating voice to the back of his mind. They are in love with each other, that’s all he needs right now.

     Dean watches Y/N after he parts from her, in awe by the joy that radiates from the girl who has such a hold on him. He has seen her beam before, when she’s amongst the crew, when he makes her laugh. But he hasn’t witnessed this level of bliss and fulfillment yet. She’s glowing, and damn, it looks good on her.      Y/N blushes when she notices his captivated stare. “What?”      “You look happy,” he comments, leaving a short kiss on her lips again.      She smiles, her gaze drifting away as she lets her hands slip from behind his neck down his chest, analysing this contentment that she’s experiencing. She’s somewhat stunned by the conclusion; Dean is right.

     “I feel like - like I’m finally at a point in my life where things are coming together,” she realizes. “I spent years of my life in books, riding as much as I could aside from classes, just to get better. I tried to find that ‘click’ with so many horses, fell off, failed...”      She huffs, thinking of all the times she almost gave up. Overwhelmed, overworked. School, ride, sleep, repeat. All while Granddad tried to find her the perfect horse.      “Then Meadow crossed my path.”       She rubs the mare’s withers, earning an appreciative purr as the horse glances over her shoulder. The head wrangler watches the two, the unbreakable bond, the friendship that will last a lifetime. It’s an indescribable feeling to have such a strong connection with an animal, one he knows well. 

     Turning her attention to her horse, Y/N undoes the leather strap under Meadow’s chin and removes the bridle, replacing it with a halter. Meanwhile, Dean takes her hat off the horn and places it back on her head, earning a chuckle. He then continues to loosen the sinch and removes the saddle, humid clouds of warm air coming from Meadow’s back.       “I couldn’t believe it when Grandpa bought her. You should’ve seen me; I went out of my mind,” she says, reminiscing while taking off Meadow’s leg protection.      Dean chuckles at that, able to picture it perfectly. Her reaction to qualifying for Congress offers a good indication. Before he turns the faucet on, he hands the hose to Y/N, noticing the smile fading from her face.      “But then he died. It took me a while to get back from that,” she admits, glad to have something to do to keep her mind occupied. Often the tears still prick in her eyes when she talks about her grandfather, but today she manages to keep them at bay.      Mesmerized, Dean listens. He had guessed before that her granddad had passed away, since she used the past tense whenever she mentioned him. He never pushed her to talk about it, though, knowing that if the roles were reversed, he would appreciate the space too.      “You got back up, though,” he says, hoping she can recognize the willpower it took.       She nods, smiling faintly as she puts the hose aside. “I figured that after everything that he’s done for me, the least I could do was make him proud. I won State, I graduated a year early and cum laude.”      “And then you ended up in this dump,” Dean fills in, trying to lighten the mood.      She chuckles at his joke and shakes her head, untying Meadow.

     “Actually, ending up in this ‘dump’ is probably the best thing that could’ve happened to me,” she states, leading her horse to her box, Dean in tow. “I’m learning a lot here, and not just about ranch work. It has grounded me. Plus, I met this very handsome cowboy, too.”      Dean smirks. “Did ya?”      Y/N hums, turning after she shuts the stable door. “Why do you think I can’t stop smiling?”

     His eyes bounce between hers, only now realizing that he has a big part in her happiness. It humbles him, knowing that he makes her feel this way. Never before has he stood where he is standing now, in a relationship, let alone in a relationship with this one hell of a woman. Most of the time he has no idea what he’s doing, his gut feeling his only guidance, but apparently he’s doing something right. She has a spring in her step when she walks, her eyes shine when she laughs, and he is the reason. 

Wanting to tell her she is his reason too, but not knowing the words to that song, he takes off his western hat to fit under hers and wields his lips to hers. The kiss is less playful than the ones earlier, but all the more meaningful. Her lashes brush against his freckled skin, her hands cup his face, fingertips tracing the stubble on his jaw. The cowboy’s heart grows warm, rising in his chest, the sensation having him light headed. She is everything he never knew he needed, and he’s never going to let her go. 

     They hear footsteps coming around the corner, but both the wranglers are too occupied to pay attention, until a familiar voice puts an end to their private moment.      “Really? Could you not? I haven’t even had breakfast yet,” Jo puts her hands on her small waist and halts when she notices the couple. “This is a lot to muster on an empty stomach, y’know?”      Y/N chuckles after breaking away from her boyfriend, Dean rolls his eyes dramatically at his cousin.      “Get lost, Jo,” he scolds, ignoring her request.      “I’d advise you to get lost, because my dad is hot on my heels,” she returns smartly, before opening the door to the cafeteria, which is situated next to Meadow’s box.

     The cowboy’s eyes grow wide as he quickly distances himself from the woman he held in his arms just a mere second ago, before Bobby turns the corner. Awkwardly, Dean fidgets with the brim of his hat as Y/N straightens out her shirt and wipes her hands on her jeans, hoping her tan will hide the blush that heats her cheeks.       “Mornin’, Bobby,” Dean greets, trying not to act suspicious.      His uncle looks at them now as if he only just noticed them, his weary eyes lingering on the intern for a short second before they focus on Dean.       “Can I talk to you in my office?” he asks the head wrangler, even though it sounds more like an order.      “S-sure,” Dean stammers, gulping nervously.      “I’m getting my coffee first,” the ranch owner announces, before he disappears into the cafeteria. “Meet me there. You can let yourself in.”

     Dean takes an apprehensive breath when the door closes, the tight feeling in his chest not so pleasant now. Y/N’s observing him; he can feel her eyes burning in the side of his head.      “Why don’t you just tell him?” she sighs. “It’s been over a week.”      “I think he might be on to us already,” he says, clearly not at ease with that presumption. “I just wanted to ease him in when he’s not… you know, cranky.”       She frowns at that. “It’s Bobby; he’s always cranky. I thought Ellen--”      “- Ellen said he was gonna be fine with us being together - yes - but Bobby specifically told me not to mess around with you,” Dean recalls, returning his gaze from the door to Y/N.      “Well, I hope what we have going on here is a little bit more than you ‘messing around’ with me,” she returns with a tone.      “Of course it is. Hey...” He lifts her chin up with a curled index finger, pleading to look him in the eye. “This, us… It means a hell of a lot to me. Please tell me you know that.”      Her expression softens. She couldn’t be mad at him if she tried.      “I know. I just wish we wouldn’t have to sneak around anymore,” she admits.       “I’ll tell him.” He presses his lips to hers quickly, glancing at the door before he does, making sure they will not get caught. “Save some bacon for me, will ya?”      “Will do,” she promises, pushing him off gingerly before she opens the door to join the rest of the crew for breakfast.

     He watches her leave, holding on to the sight of her as long as he can. She’s right; he needs to come clean. It doesn’t feel right to go behind Bobby’s back. Plus, with them leaving for Flagstaff this afternoon, he wants to be able to say out loud that he’s spoken for, aware there’s gonna be a few girls who might want to make a move on him. Not by any means is he worried he will not be able to resist the temptation, because as far as he’s concerned, there is none. But he doesn’t want to have to hide their relationship just because his uncle isn’t aware yet. 

     Dean puts his hat back on as he steps outside into the sun, which is steadily rising in the morning sky. Going over different versions of his announcement, he jogs up the stairs of the house, pulling back the screen door before he steps inside. Out of habit, he kicks his boots off and hangs his Stetson on the coat hanger, like he was taught when he moved in with his aunt and uncle at the age of fourteen. 

     The house is quiet, Ellen cooking up breakfast for the crew in the cafeteria at the stables. He crosses the living room and strolls into the kitchen, taking a glass from the cabinet and pouring himself some milk from the fridge. This place still has the same homey feel to it, it even smells the same as he remembered. He still knows his way around, even though he hasn’t slept under this roof since he was twenty. At a certain age, he wanted to be amongst the crew, hang with Benny and the other guys, and have a little more freedom. Jo joined them in the bunkhouse a couple of years later when she got rebellious and never really left, even though she still has a room upstairs. 

     Dean leans against the counter, taking a few gulps of milk. A smile forms on his lips when he notices some of the old photos on the fridge. Ellen always mixes them up, taking them out of albums and putting them in frames, some ending up on the refrigerator or pinned to the board in the office, others are on display in the saloon and in the cafeteria. One of the pictures portrays him on one of the first mustangs he trained, and next to him Jo on her pony, a little fellow called Ghost. He must have been fifteen or sixteen at the time, his cousin not older than ten. There’s another one of him and both Ellen and Bobby at his uncle’s fiftieth birthday; Dean was twenty-one then. The first birthday besides his own where he was allowed to drink, but he has never been a saint. God knows how many times he and Benny and Gabe started the Saturday shift hung over, before he reached the legal age. He grins at the memory.

     His eyes glide over the photos, all seemingly normal snapshots, freeze frames of a country boy’s upbringing. But that’s it, isn’t it? It wasn’t normal to Dean. His life made a complete one-eighty when his aunt and uncle took their nephew in. They did it without question, never once asking for anything in return. They reminded him what it’s like to feel safe, loved, what it’s like to be a kid again. 

     It took him awhile before he could get past the years of worry, fear, and guilt, but eventually he found his way again. Has he forgotten about his childhood, the time he spent with his father and his little brother? Hell, no. He’ll never forget what happened, how the situation escalated and how everyone gave up on family except him, until there was nothing more the loyal son could do to stop the Winchesters from falling apart. But after all the trauma, the lesions on his soul, the nightmares, and endless regret, he found a place he calls home and is surrounded by people who, by blood or by heart, are his family. 

     The hinges of the screen door squeak and rattle when Bobby enters the house. Just like Dean did moments ago, the old man steps out of his boots, knowing very well that his wife will scold him if she finds dirty footprints on the wooden floors when she returns. He hobbles into the house, noticing his nephew in the kitchen.      “Comin’?” he says, nodding at the office, further down the hall.

     Dean empties his glass and leaves it in the sink, following his uncle. When he enters the room, he notices the stack of papers on the desk, open folders littering the flat surface. There’s an open filebox on the floor, numbers and letters scribbled in a notebook. Bobby has never been the person to keep his office tidy, especially with all the extra paperwork that comes with not owning a computer, but right now it looks like a bomb went off in here.       “Take a seat.” Bobby circles the desk and puts down his coffee mug, closing the blinders to prevent curious eyes from peeking inside. 

     Dean does as told, a frown edging lines between his brows. The vibe he is picking up isn’t a pleasant one and he’s sensing this talk will not be about his relationship with the intern. Carefully, he reads the ranch owner, who sits down, rests his elbows on the oak desk and forks his calloused hands together. Bobby doesn’t look up at him, and it’s only now that his nephew notices how the circles under his eyes seem a little darker, his head hanging low between his shoulders, which carry so much weight.       “We’re taking two of the youngsters to Flagstaff,” Bobby announces. “I need you to decide which ones, so I can send in the information to the auction committee.”      “Whoa, what?” Dean says, confused. “I’ve barely haltered a handful. I thought you wanted them under saddle before we sold them?”      “There’s no time for that.”

     His uncle adjusts the worn baseball cap on his head, still not looking at the young man on the other side of his desk.       “What do you mean, there’s no--” Dean stops when Bobby glares at him from under the hat, silencing his nephew with just a look.       “Pick the two who you reckon would go for a good price. And I need you to compete two extra horses as well. The palomino stallion, you think you can show him in the four year old class?”      “Yeah, I - I guess,” Dean says, realizing that riding five horses in competition is going to be a challenge, especially when it comes to time management, but he doesn’t have the courage to contradict the ranch owner.       “Good. I don’t expect them to come home with us,” Bobby acknowledges, picking a folder from the file case next to his desk, flipping through ownership certificates and taking out a file. “I contacted some buyers.”      “Which one’s the fifth you want me to bring?” Dean asks, carefully.      “Joplin,” Bobby states. 

     Dean closes his eyes briefly, cursing internally. He knows Y/N has grown fond of the feisty mare; it’s gonna hurt her to see the little dark horse leave.      “Joplin ain’t the easiest to ride and I can’t use her for the tourists; she’s the obvious choice. She’s good for ranch work and with the cattle, so I’ll sign her up for the cutting competition.” The ranch owner takes out Joplin’s file as well, adding it to the small stack in front of him. “The intern did some cattle work with her, right?”      Dean nods. “Yeah, rode her on the trail too.”      “Y/N can ride her then, they seem like a good fit. Discuss it with her, let me know if she wants to,” the old man decides, looking up at his right hand when he stays quiet. “I contacted Jody Mills; she might have some clients for Joplin.”      “Bobby, what the hell is going on?”

     Dean’s worried eyes study his uncle, an unraveling stare boring through the rancher’s tough armor, who is unable to hold his gaze. The weariness seeps through the cracks when Bobby rubs his forehead, leaning back with a sigh, the old desk chair creaking.      “We’re in bad waters, ain’t we?” the wrangler realizes.      Bobby still doesn’t look up, but nods quietly, admitting to the painful truth. He seems ashamed, as if he - the head of this family - is failing. The man opposite of him can feel the pressure his uncle is experiencing; he knows it well. Just the sheer thought of the ranch being in much more trouble than he originally anticipated has him anxious, his heart rate picking up. These lands, the company, the horses… could they all be at risk?

     “How bad?” he asks firmly, even though he’s not sure if he wants to hear the answer.      “I just ordered stable bedding, hay and pellets without havin’ paid for the last bulk. I can’t pay you or the boys by the end of the month, unless we make a profit in Flagstaff,” Bobby admits. “Then there’s the mortgage, bank loans, taxes...”      Dean leans his elbow on the armrest of his chair, rubs his temple. “What happened to the money we earned on the livestock you sold Rufus?”      “Used it on the electrical bill I was behind on and paid the city and the bank. I owed Caleb a lot of money too.”      The wrangler’s eyes flick up at his uncle again. “So it’s all gone?”       Bobby nods again. “Yeah, ‘fraid so.”

     Troubled, he reaches for his coffee, taking a sip of the hot brew, wishing it was whiskey. From under his cap he watches Dean process the information, the knowledge doing a number on him, even though he acts tough. Bobby knows his nephew. Hell, he’s been living on his land for so long, he considers him a son. He knows how he values this place and the people and animals living here. He knows how much he craved shelter when he stood on the doorstep fifteen years ago. That’s exactly what this place is for him: his safe haven. And now that a storm is coming, now that his world threatens to cave, he’s losing his footing as well.

     Dean leaves his chair, paces up and down the small room twice, his arms crossed and pondering on a solution.      “You can keep my salary,” Dean says, “I know it’s a drop in the ocean, but I’ve got a roof over my head, that’s all I need. I have some savings too--”      “Dean, I don’t want your money,” Bobby makes clear, his voice less stern. “This ain’t your cross to bear.”      “Hell, it ain’t!” he exclaims, raising his arms up in despair. “This is my home too, and I’m not about to lose it!”      “Do you really believe I’m givin’ it up that easy? It’s my life’s work, damn it!” his uncle raises his voice to level with Dean’s, but tones it down when he continues. “No one is losing their home. We’re just gonna have to save and make money before this spins out of control, stay afloat until business picks up again. That’s why we’re gonna bring more horses to Flagstaff, see if we can make some deals.”

     Dean calms down slightly after his outburst, but is nowhere near at ease. He places his hands on his sides now, focusing on the floorboards. After a deep breath he collects himself.      “We can take the large Pinto and the red dun Mustang for the auction,” he determines.       “Alright,” Bobby writes it down, picking up the phone to make the call. “We’re still leaving at three?”      His head wrangler nods, burdened, taking the que and turns towards the door.      “Son?”       Dean halts in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder at the man who has been more like a dad to him than his own father ever was. A few strands of light squeeze through the blinds, illuminating the mess they are in, the rest of the room dark, shadows looming over his uncle.       “We’ll figure it out, okay? Ain’t the first recession this ranch survived,” Bobby reminds him, before he dials the number he wrote down earlier. 

     With a forced smile Dean watches him for a few more seconds before he leaves the office, the mask dropping from his face the moment he’s out of sight. With the unsettling information still mulling over, he puts on his boots again and takes his hat from the hall stand, walking onto the porch. He needs a moment to collect himself and let’s a heavy sigh escape his lungs, his eyes wandering over the scenery before him. Gold Canyon Ranch: sacred ground, their harbor, his church. The barn with the high doors through which he walked countless times, the Joshua tree that has watched over the horses for centuries. The saloon where on a good night laughs roar and beer flows. The bunkhouse, the crooked little prairie shed where he has a room and a bed of his own. And the Singer’s residence, where he knocked on the front door in search of refuge when he was fourteen years of age, standing in the exact same spot where he’s standing now.

     The sun hits him when he descends from the steps, the source of light warming the earth rapidly, despite autumn approaching. A faint headache is throbbing behind his eyes already, the conversation getting to him much more than he wants it to. Bobby tried to lessen the blow and reassure his nephew, but he knows very well it’s ten minutes to midnight. He dismisses the possibility of losing everything all over again; he can’t think like that, it will only slow him down. What he can do is think of a way to prevent this train from derailing. 

     He attempts to leave the worry behind, because he can’t let the rest of the crew know just how grim the situation is. Thankfully, the guys have already started their workday. He can hear the tractor pulling up behind the barn and there’s a wheelbarrow in the stable alley. Garth whistles to a country song on the radio as he empties a box with large scoops, while Jo leads a saddled horse to the arena. A quick glance through the window of the cafeteria tells him Ellen already went to the saloon, probably to start on lunch for the group of eight tourists that are currently accommodating the guest houses, but he does spot Y/N, who’s wiping down the table. When he pushes open the door, a bright smile comes his way, her light burning away the dark clouds hanging over him.

     “Hey! I risked my life defending your bacon, but I managed to save you some. Scrambled eggs and two buns too. Want me to heat it up real quick?” she asks, busy putting away the cutlery and dishes she washed.      “Nah, that’s alright,” he says, slumping down in the chair where Bobby usually sits.       “Here.”       She puts the plate down in front of him, the smell of crispy meat filling his nose. He’s not all that hungry anymore, but he starts cutting the bread either way, knowing she made an effort to make sure he had something to eat.

     “How did he respond?” she wonders after a moment of silence, drying off the frying pan.      Dean was about to take a bite when he freezes, only now realizing what she’s talking about. Shit, with everything going on, it completely slipped his mind why he wanted to talk to Bobby in the first place.      Y/N notices the hesitation, followed by a pair of shameful eyes coming her way. She sighs, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Dean…”      “I know. I’m sorry.” He squeezes the bridge of his nose while he shuts his eyes, feeling like an idiot. “Something came up. He didn’t call me in because of us.”

     The cowboy glances up warely, noticing her disappointment. If anything, he doesn’t want her to think he just forgot, or worse - that he chickened out. But business is blending with personal life here; he’s not sure if he should share with her what his boss just told him.       “Why did he call you in then?” she wonders, unable to hide the discontent in her voice.      “He, uh - he wants me to take more horses to Flagstaff,” he says. “To sell them.”      “Oh…” Y/N puts away the pan in one of the lower cabinets. “Which ones?”      “Two of the youngsters we brought in earlier this month. Bon Jovi - the four year old - and...” Dean hesitates, hating to be the bearer of bad news. “And Joplin.”

     In shock the cowgirl turns to him, staring at the head wrangler. “Bobby is going to sell Joplin?”      “I wish it could’ve been different,” he half apologizes, feeling sorry for Y/N. “I know you like her a lot.”      She hangs the dish towel to dry and turns to lean on the back of the chair. Her airway is closing, but she swallows down the lump that builds. Dean is right; she grew fond of the little dark Quarter. Not everyone can handle her fiery spirit, but the cowgirl could, forging a strong bond between them within a short period of time. Somehow, she never expected Joplin to leave the premises.       “It’s not your fault,” she says after clearing her throat. “I’m the one who gets attached to horses who aren’t my own.”      The wrangler observes her, well aware she’s trying to be professional about this.      “Bobby hoped you could show her at the competition,” he continues.      “I can do that,” she agrees, keeping her voice steady.

     Dean absently eats his bacon and egg sandwich while Y/N tidies up, giving her hands something to do while she processes what he just told her. He watches her rinse a cloth and clean the kitchen counter, rubbing over a spot to make a stain go away. Not sure if he should say anything, he focuses on finishing his plate, but it doesn’t take long before he can’t stand the silence.      “You okay?” he checks, concerned.      “I guess,” she turns to him, finally taking a second to sit down. “How about you?”      Dean wipes his hands down his jeans to get rid of the crumbs sticking to his fingers and looks at her, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m used to horses being sold.”      “That’s not what I mean,” Y/N returns, not at all surprised that he acts like there’s nothing going on. “What’s bothering you?”

     She reads her boyfriend carefully when he looks at her, dropping his gaze the moment her eyes reach too deep into his soul. For a few short seconds he seems to consider telling her what’s going on, but then he shakes his head. Worry swims in circles in her stomach, his inability to open up once again having her question herself.       “It’s not us, I promise,” he says sincerely, reaching for her hand across the table when he notices her doubt. “And I wanna tell you, but I can’t discuss this with anyone other than Bobby or Ellen.”      “Business related?” she guesses.       When Dean nods, it clicks in her head.       “The ranch isn’t doing so well, is it?”

     As if he got caught committing a crime, his eyes shoot up to meet hers. Shit, has he said too much? She might be his girlfriend, but she’s also the intern. She works for Bobby, for God’s sake! This isn’t information he’s supposed to share with anyone.       Unsure of how to respond, he averts his gaze, but she squeezes his hand to call him back.      “Dean, this is kind of my field, remember? I can see the tell-tale signs,” she reminds him. 

     The head wrangler holds his breath, catching his bottom lip with his teeth, but then exhales burdened, accepting she has figured it out. Self-conscious about his own vulnerability, he runs his thumb over the back of her hand as he stares at nothing in particular, focusing on the motion. Bit by bit, the curtain is pulled back, revealing just how much this newfound knowledge worries him.      “Bobby says we’ll figure it out, but things are bad,” he admits after a long silence. 

     She nods slightly, acknowledging his statement. Honestly, she’s not surprised. She wondered how the ranch was able to run on a handful of tourists and trail rides. With only three horses in paid training, it’s impossible to generate an income that covers the dozen others owned by the family, which can’t be sold for a fair price now that the market is at an all time low. She cannot imagine the mortgage on this enormous place. There’s employees who depend on a salary, animals which need to be fed and cared for, machinery that needs maintenance. Selling stock and letting go workers; they seem like desperate measures to her, measures which will not cut it during the economic crisis this country is currently suffering from, one that might drag on for years. It’s a postponement of execution.

     Dean swallows thickly, allowing her to have a glimpse of his crippling concern. He feels weak to admit it, to admit to her that the walls around him are crumbling. But a joke and a laugh cannot save him this time, there is no way he can dance around the fact that he has zero control over the financial situation, and it scares the living hell out of him.      “If we lose the ranch, I wouldn’t know what to do,” he confesses. “This place is all I have.”      Hell, this place is all that I am, he thinks to himself. Because, let’s face it, when you take away the horses and strip him from the opportunities he’s offered here, he’s nothing but a highschool dropout with an old pick up truck. 

     “That’s not true,” Y/N dismisses. “You’ve got family, ranch or not. And you have me now.”      He carefully glances up at her, taken aback by the comfort in her voice. A pair of soft eyes wait for him, strengthening her words. He mirrors the small smile she’s carrying, eased by her promise.      “What if I take a look at the books?” she offers. “If Bobby is okay with that, of course.”      “You - You’d do that?” Dean returns, stunned, his eyebrows raised.      “Yeah, of course. I mean, don’t expect miracles by any means, but I can shed some light on it. Maybe get an overview of the assets and liabilities, set up a balance sheet if there isn’t one, etcetera,” she states, making it sound like it’s no big deal. “I analyzed several large companies for my thesis.”

     Impressed, the head wrangler takes in the young woman who is so wise for her age. He only now realises the intern might be the one who could steer this ship away from the massive iceberg they are heading towards. Of course she can’t magically make money appear out of thin air, but he doubts Bobby has the skill set of someone with a master’s degree in business.      “You’re awesome, know that?” he huffs.      “Don’t you forget it.” She grins at him, getting up from her seat and taking his plate.      Before she can rinse it and reach for the dish brush, Dean’s arms snake around her waist and pull her against his chest, hooking his chin over her shoulder. He kisses her on the cheek, leaning his head against hers and ignoring his western hat when it tilts to the side.      “Thank you.”      She smiles. “You’re welcome.”

     Y/N turns in his arms, trapped between him and the kitchen counter. She looks up to meet his admiring gaze, adjusting the Stetson on the cowboy’s head and letting her hands linger, wrists crossed behind his neck.      “I’m beginning to understand just how much the ranch means to you. And frankly, this place is starting to mean a lot to me too,” she admits.

     The morning light sheds diagonal beams through the set of four square windows, highlighting her hair and her beautiful smile. Dean drinks her in for a couple of solid seconds, before he dips down and kisses her.       How she is able to vanquish his inner panic, just by offering her full support, doesn’t cease to amaze the wrangler. He’s not getting his hopes up, he knows the financial problems are bigger than she can fix with a run-through and a few budget cuts. But she’s trying. She’s doing her part. She’s here to help, not only the ranch, but him as well. And just like that, the future seems a lot less grim than it did a moment ago. They will figure it out and things will be okay, as long as he has her by his side.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part nineteen here

[phoenixrisesoncemore]

Your choice: 16, 39, or 46 for kiss prompt game. :)

39. “Kissing tears from the other’s face”

—————

“Aiya, Lan Zhan, what’s become of me?” Wei Wuxian whispers.

Sizhui has finished lining the small hole with a mat of gentian woven with such care that it might be mistaken for indigo* silk. He seems oddly at ease, moreso than could be attributed to the day-to-day experience of a junior cultivator of the Gusu Lan sect. Well, there’s no surprise—here’s a boy literally raised on death.

Wei Wuxian feels Lan WangJi glance his way and knows he must see the red creeping into his eyes. A single white rabbit is nearly completely still in the crook of his arm, regarding Wei Wuxian with caution. He has been back in Gusu for over six months but still they only tolerate him, a gangly and fickle demon with tempting carrots and half-hearted threats to snatch and gobble them up.

Nearby Lil Apple brays as Jingyi placates him with another fruit.

An odd surge of summer heat has made its way up even to the Cloud Recesses, burning holes in the enveloping mist, and the usually crisp and clarifying air seems somehow too heavy even to breath. Wei Wuxian is keenly aware: this is the most the climate of his new home has ever felt like his old one. A thick canopy of cooling pine boughs is their current refuge, but the escape from one set of unpleasant circumstances has plopped him square in the middle of another.

“Do you bury...all of them?” he asks, his eyes widening as he calculates the end result of 20 years of fecundity.

“Not all.” Sizhui looks up, smiles softly, and wipes shyly at a tear. “There’re far too many, Wei-qianbei.” From beside him he picks up the small mound of fur—white but for a patch of black on its face—and holds it close to his chest. “Bailuobo** was the first rabbit Hanguang-jun let me name.”

“Bailuobo!? You didn’t even like radishes!” He points an accusing finger at the boy. “I distinctly remember having to bargain with you to get you to eat them so you didn’t starve to death!”

Sizhui ducks his head and tries to repress a smile. “I think I scared her—I still wasn’t sure how to handle them—and that was the first word that came to mind when she...” his cheeks go a bit red. “She bit me...”

There is the most ominously pregnant pause before Wei Wuxian bursts out laughing.

As the loudest living thing in the Cloud Recesses, it’s often possible to pinpoint the location of one Wei Ying by sound alone, and Lan Qiren is unlikely to approve of an impromptu rabbit funeral if he were to discover it...

“Sorry, sorry, heh,” he waves off Jingyi’s growing look of offense as he struggles to quiet himself. “I just didn’t expect them to take so much after your Hanguang-jun.”

Jingyi is seconds away from demanding clarification when Sizhui moves quickly to intercept. “She was always protective of the smaller ones,” he says as he lays the body atop the gentian and gives the fur a gentle stroke. “I think that’s why she bit me. She didn’t know me or that I didn’t mean any harm.” He starts to scoop up a handful of displaced dirt to cover her when he seems to realize he has forgotten something. He quickly picks up a carrot and lays it in the grave beside her.

Every movement is intention and kindness, and as he watches it occurs to Wei Wuxian that he could not possibly be more proud. He hopes—secretly—that he’s in there as more than memory, that some bit of this might be attributed to him. Other rabbits hop closer to Sizhui as he fills the grave and pats the earth back into place over it. White, black, and mottled coats all, as Wei Wuxian’s vision starts to blur they look more like a game’s worth of yunzi scattered at the boy’s knees. If Lan Wangji is moonlight, pure and refined, then Lan Sizhui is sunshine—even here, even in Lan white, even at a funeral. Maybe we didn’t shoot down the sun, Wei Wuxian thinks and is relieved that tears of laughter are indistinguishable from other kinds.

“Yifu, I would like to stay here for a while,” Sizhui says, brushing another tear away. “I will finish my lessons tonight.”

The barest blush of tenderness and understanding crosses Lan Wangji’s face. “Sizhui may grieve for however long is necessary.”

With that he gracefully returns his rabbit to the grass where it joins the others, and he and Wei Wuxian head back towards the jingshi.

—————

They walk in silence for some time before Wei Wuxian pulls Chenqing from his sash and unleashes a sudden trill. Chenqing has been accompanying him more often of late. Sometimes he finds himself just holding it, but right now he needs to hear something, anything, so he settles into a stream of notes that wind and bend like a river.

There is a thing that lurks at the corner of his mind, disturbing the flow of his thought; it is something that he is certain he used to be able to avoid, leaving him forgetful and free. It was easy to do when he was younger, easy to laugh it off as he laughed at himself. The things you’ve missed. The things you could’ve had. You deserved better, didn’t you?

Didn’t you?

It had been so easy to ignore until, in desperation, he invited it inside to live for a time where a golden core had once revolved. When life came to find him again he thought death might have freed him of it for good. But that wasn’t true. Couldn’t be...naturally. And today, for whatever reason, it has punched its way into the world and taken the form of a white rabbit with a black splotch on its face.

The music falters and fades.

“It’s so unbecoming, Lan Zhan!” he sighs dramatically, dropping his arms limply at his sides. “Yiling Laozu: drowning in blood and corpses in one life, crying at rabbit funerals in the next!”

There is a beat before Lan Wangji replies. “Yiling Laozu is a terrifying and formidable enemy.”

Wei Wuxian stops, mouth open. Lan Wangji continues ahead a few steps before slowing and turning to look back. “Are you...being sarcastic? Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian marches forward to press one end of Chenqing against Lan Wangji’s chest. “Lan Zhan, does that count as lying?” A devilish glee enters his eyes. “Are you lying to me?”

But Lan Wangji is pristine and unmoved. “I am not. Lying is forbidden in the—”

“—yes, yes, in the Cloud Recesses.”

The man is infuriating with his half-smile and perfect posture. “Are you even sweating under there?” Wei Wuxian asks. “I refuse to believe you aren’t—this is too unseasonable for your natural habitat,” and he’s already gotten one hand halfway inside Lan Wangji’s robes before the other grabs his wrist and growls, “Behave.”

There it is: a moment’s agitation to prove he can still get under Lan Zhan’s skin and an iron grip holding him steady and close. Very close. Close enough to say something real. “Have you buried any of them, Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji looks him directly in the eye. The gaze is in no way quiet. It’s far longer and far more intense than Wei Wuxian expected, and he thinks he may even understand the unspoken words behind it.

“Some,” Lan Wangji says finally, with a gentleness belied by the strength of his hand. Then he releases Wei Wuxian’s wrist, turns, and keeps walking.

—————

As they leave the back hill the summer sun beats down even harder. Summer sun. Harvesting radishes. An old man who fermented fruits just for him. A kindly bent woman with a crepe face. A doctor with endless will and endless needles. The smell of lotus rib soup...

They’ve reached the jingshi. Lan Wangji has stopped to speak to a junior who is now bowing like a perfectly bent reed; Wei Wuxian can’t remember his name. He approaches the jingshi, mounts the steps to the entry hall, and turns to look back the way they came.

The sun is in his eyes at this angle, but instead of moving he simply closes them and lets himself feel the heat on his face.

Maybe he should go back to Lotus Pier for a while. They’d be picking lotus seed pods about now, wouldn’t they? Would Lan Zhan go with him? He never really got to show him around much, but then it’s not like they’re children any longer. What would he say to Jiang Cheng? Should he wait until he knows Jin Ling is there? Or would it be better if he weren’t? If only his Shijie could make a pot of soup for the two of them. Does the season of mourning ever end? Another tear starts to roll down his cheek.

Footsteps approach and he can feel a shadow climbing up him, past his hips, over his chest, and across his neck, until the whole of him seems bathed in cool air. He opens his eyes to see Lan Wangji a few inches away, eclipsing the sun.

Even to this day, infamy fading in the lee of Lianfang-zun, any other man might still assume death is a joke to Wei Wuxian.

But not this man.

This man bends forward, capturing that tear—treasuring it—in soft, cool lips, putting words, without speaking, to the currents that haunt Wei Ying—the ones that he can never see on his own—holding them, honoring them, and releasing them gently onto a mat of carefully woven gentian.

To pass through grief, to not just forget it, would be so hard alone.

In an instant Wei Wuxian releases the breath he’s been holding since life poured back into him, and the tears start flowing freely, but he smiles because he knows what Lan Wangji is about to say.

“Wei Ying may also grieve for however long is necessary.”

NOTES:

* Has Ancient Fantasy China had Han Blue/Purple yet?

** ”white radish”

Special thanks to @lurkingscientist for *so much* gracious help with this (is that cheating? Asking the person who prompted you for help? ^^) including a discussion of how animal/pet burial might work and the perfect name for Lan Sizhui’s rabbit. And also for being very patient as I wrote this!

Thanks also to user @besanii for this meta on what Lan Sizhui might have called Lan Wangji (other than just “Hanguang-jun”).

[winchest09]

A Man’s Best Friend - Chapter One

Pairing:  Dean Winchester x Reader (eventually) / Dog!Dean x Reader (platonic owner/pet kinda deal)

Universe:  Canon. Set in the episode Dog Dean Afternoon (Season 9)

Rating: 15+ W/C: 4671

Warnings: swearing, lil angst, crack (?),  lil fluff if you squint. 

A/N: So...the new mini series is here! This was a request from the beautiful Dawnie. She chose the puppy square from my Ringo Challenge! I hope you all enjoy the adventure I’m about to take you all on! This has been so much fun to write. 

Special thanks to this absolute babe @katehuntington for being my beta <3 You’re an absolute worldie and I love ya!

Love you all.

xox

– I absolutely adore your reactions, so please if you do read; reblog, comment or send me an ask and let me know how you feel! It means the world to me.

A Man’s Best Friend Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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——————————————–  Chapter One ——————————————– 

Well shit.  

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go down. It was meant to be an easy and quick get away, yet here he was, stuck in an alleyway. Dean was frustrated, his teeth baring as he tried to focus on how the hell he was going to get out of this predicament. He needed to get back to Sam, he needed his little brother to help him undo whatever the hell had been done to him.  

It was a simple spell, one that should have allowed Dean to communicate with animals, that should have allowed him to have a conversation with the only witness of a crime that was his case. At first, the spell did the job it was intended to do. He was able to talk to all animals and got the information he needed, but on his way back to meet his brother, his stomach started to twist. He felt as though all his bones were being crushed then reformed, his skull splitting while his spine shortened. He wanted to scream yet the transformation didn’t allow it. He felt every crack, every snap and before he knew it, the spell had morphed him into a full grown American Pit Bull. Four big paws, a light brown nose and a long tail came tumbling out of his clothes that were now piled on the asphalt. Dean’s new heightened senses overwhelmed him and he found himself attempting to run back to the motel where his brother was residing, however he’d gotten lost in the alleys, unaware of which way to turn. When he frantically tried to get past a stack of empty boxes and garbage bags, he hadn’t seen the cluster of barbed wire. Before he knew it, he was tangled up in the torturous mess of sharp metal; the more he moved, the tighter it got. 

To make matters worse, it was hammering down with rain. His fur was soaked through and paws cold from the growing puddle beneath him. Dean’s shivers were visible to passers by that looked straight past him, either oblivious or not wanting to risk their safety for a trapped dog. His throat was becoming sore from the wire and for the first time in a while, Dean was feeling hopeless.  

Of all the ways I thought I'd go, this wasn't it, Dean thought as his green eyes stared hopelessly at the sidewalk not too far from him, a metal mesh fence being the only obstacle that blocked him from the public. 

Feeling colder by the minute, Dean had started to whimper. He hadn’t got the energy to try to shout, or bark, in this case. All he could muster was soft, small cries as he stared through the mesh. He hoped his little brother would find him, he hoped that by some miracle he had realised that the spell had further effects than what they thought. His head began to hang low, his eyes now trained on his new reflection in the puddled water beneath as he felt his energy beginning to dwindle. He was starting to tune out the sounds around him, wanting to focus on his own thoughts instead of the nearby traffic. 

It was then that a small yet bright light flickered over him. If he blinked, he would have missed it. He lazily lifted his head, allowing his nose to sniff the air slightly as he tried to work out what was happening. Through the darkness, he noticed a figure standing at the fencing, fingers wrapping through the holes in the wire as they tried their hardest to move it. The sound of the metal scraping along the sidewalk echoed down the empty alleyway before that small yet bright light came back to shine down on him. It blinded him slightly, a mixture of curiosity and panic rising from within him as he started to hear light footsteps edging closer towards him. It took a moment for him to focus but Dean was soon able to see who was approaching him. It was a woman.  

He watched how her pace slowed, his eyes still trying to make out her features through the darkness, his nose tentatively sniffing at the air to try and work out who was in front of him. As she got closer still, Dean's worry grew. She could be anything; a demon, a shifter, a werewolf. His mind was spinning but he knew he didn’t want to be cornered, he didn’t want it to end like this; he had to fight. He bared his teeth and let out a low growl, all the while trying his hardest to pull at the barbed wire, the metal scratching into his fur and skin. It made him wince, the struggle becoming even more painful. It was then that he noticed her holding her hands up in surrender, the light in which she was using was coming from her phone which was wedged between her thumb and forefinger.   

“Hey, hey, woah now,” she soothed, trying to calm him down as he panicked, the wire tightening even more around his neck. “It’s ok, I’m not gonna hurt you,” she assured, her hands coming slowly towards his face.   

You’re damn right you won’t, lady. I’ll bite your arm off. Dean felt the low growl rumble in the back of his throat, but this didn’t deter the woman in front of him, who was calmly approaching. She brought the light from her phone closer to Dean and he could only assume that she was assessing the situation. 

“Has some cruel asshole left you here, huh? Or did you get yourself into this mess?” she asked him, getting close enough so he could see the rain dripping from the end of her nose. 

 Just undo me so I can find my brother, he thought, although his normal gruff voice came out a howl. He watched as she placed her phone down to the side, the light shining on the barbed wire wrapped around his neck, as her hands came to gently pat his head. He was hesitant, flinching slightly at the contact she was giving him.  

“Come on, easy, easy,” she spoke calmly, her fingertips running over the wire that had rendered him immobile. Dean watched how she concentrated, how she analysed the situation before she made her move. Slowly but surely, he felt the wire loosen from around his neck, the pain subsiding as she lifted it over his head. Dean quickly moved out of the puddle as soon as he could, shaking his paws to try and get them dry. There’s nothing worse than wet feet. 

“Come on, sweetie. Let’s get you out of this rain and get some food into you.” Her voice made Dean stop what he was doing and look at her. She was standing now, waiting with a soft smile as she gazed down at him with what appeared to be a makeshift leash in her hand. His mind questioned what would be the smarter thing to do here. Does he bolt? Or go with the woman who appeared to be offering him sanctuary? He needed to get back to his brother to sort this mess out but then he had no idea where he would even start. He needed to be logical about this, he needed time to think all of this through properly but standing here in the rain was making it difficult. If he accepted her offer, that rope leash would be around his neck and there would be no escaping her if it was a trap. But seeing her standing there, patiently waiting for him to come around in his own time, made Dean think that maybe she wasn’t a threat. Maybe she was just an innocent bystander that was willing to help a stray dog.  

If only she knew the truth, he mentally scoffed to himself. Here goes nothing.  

Taking a tentative step towards her, he sniffed the hand she offered him. With his new found sniffer, he would be able to smell sulfur from a mile away, however she smelled like honey and pecan; she smelt divine. Dean became calm, as if his senses were telling him that she was safe, that he wasn’t in any danger. Deciding to trust his gut, he slowly walked to her side which earned him a soft pat on the head before she slipped the leash over his head. Dean huffed, this is ridiculous. 

He followed her cautiously out of the alley, scanning the area as best he could, just in case. When the woman got to the mesh railing, she stepped around it and waited for him to pass. He knew she was expecting him to struggle and attempt to run, but as he looked back up at her, her soft smile and relaxed features reassured him that she'd have no objection if he wanted to do just that. Another reason as to why Dean decided to trust her and allow her to help him. She opened her car door on the passenger side before gesturing for him to enter. Dean stared up for a moment, just taking in how much bigger everything seemed to him now before he decided to work up his energy to make the small jump needed to enter the vehicle. Once on the seat, he sat proud to ensure his body was as tall as he could possibly make it as she gently shut the door behind him. It wasn’t long till she joined him in the front, taking her place in the driver’s seat as she wiped her wet hair out of her eyes, drying her cheeks with the back of her coat sleeve. She turned to face him, gently offering her hand to pet his head in a reassuring manner, a move Dean was unsure of as he moved back slightly. This caused his rescuer to look lower, her eyebrows arching and a small smile tugging on her lips as she pulled her hand back.  

“So you’re a boy, that’s good to know,” she mused. Wait...what? How does she... Dean didn’t miss the flicker of her eye and slowly looked down. Sure enough, as he sat there proud as can be, little Dean was on show for all to see. Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me, he thought before he slowly lays himself down across the front seat, desperate to retain his doggy modesty.  

“I’ll take you to the vets in the morning, buddy.” He watches as she starts the car, a low rumbling coming from the engine before her music kicked in. “Get you scanned for a chip, see if we can find where you come from,” she continued before she began to hum along to the music that creeped in through the speakers.  

Stairway to heaven, Dean immediately recognized, tilting his head as he did so. This woman has got good taste.  

“Now I bet you’re starving and after the night I’ve had, I need comfort food,” she sniffed and it was only then Dean noticed that the woman appeared to be unhappy. Her slightly puffy eyes and red nose were an indicator that she may have been crying for a while before she’d stopped to help him. Of course, the red nose could also be from the cold and wet weather conditions, but Dean had the hunch that her night may have been just as unpleasant as his.  

As she pulled the car away from the sidewalk, Dean took a moment to try and think over the mess he’d gotten into. Sam never mentioned that this spell would actually turn him into a dog and with Castiel out of action, he knew he had no hope of getting back to his little brother by any supernatural means. He was going to have to figure this out the old fashioned way. Dean knew they were in Enid, Oklahoma. His brother was in a local motel, but getting back there on four paws was going to be difficult. He glanced aside, grateful that this woman had found him and was giving him some sanctuary from the heavy downpour, grateful that she was so far taking care of him. He needed time to work out his bearings and he was hoping that from this woman’s home, he’d be able to plan a route that would take him back to Sam.  

The car turning into a local burger joint caught Dean’s attention, the smell of grilled patties and fresh french fries overwhelmed his senses and it made him shoot up from his laying down position, his stomach rumbling at the smell. He was hungry and he’d never been so relieved that this woman was driving him into a drive through. As she pulled up to order and rolled down her window, Dean’s doggy mouth started to water, drool gathering at the end of his chin. He wasn’t even ashamed.  

Please order a bacon cheeseburger, please, I beg of you, Dean thought, the drool from his chin now dribbling onto the seat beneath him as he watched his saviour lean speak to the intercom. 

“Two double bacon cheeseburgers, a water and a vanilla shake please,” she ordered politely. “Are you happy with that, boy?” 

Boy, am I! Thank god you’re my kind of woman!  Dean was overjoyed that this lady had ordered him his favourite food without even knowing. So happy in fact that a certain part of him had started to move really fast, whipping from side to side in a rhythmic manner. Why is this moving and why can I not control this?! Dean panicked, turning his head to watch as his tanned covered tail continued to beat against the leather seat. Seriously, stop moving! 

Too busy concentrating on how to control his tail, Dean didn’t notice the car move to the next window. It was only when the rustle of the take out bag was heard, that he stopped paying his attention to his new found body part. He whipped his head around and allowed his nose to sniff manically, licking his wide mouth in response to the full flavoured smell. His stomach rumbled at the thought of the contents of the bag, he couldn’t wait to get his mouth around that burger. Even though he knew his eyes should be trained on where the woman was now driving too or even the woman herself, Dean couldn’t stop staring at the bag that was in her lap. Doggy instincts or not, he felt like that burger was the most important thing in the world at that moment.  

It didn’t take long for his feeder to come to a stop, in fact it was only around a five-minute drive but to Dean it felt like an eternity. She turned off the engine and with the bag in hand, she exited the car. He watched her through the window and noticed that they were now outside of a house. Nothing too big or fancy; it was quaint. There were only a few other houses along the street, the sidewalk lined with trees and grass, yards edged with white picket fences. It was a place where Dean could see himself living if he ever got out of the life of hunting.  

The sound of the passenger door opening broke him from his thoughts, he turned his fur covered head to see that burger lady was waiting for him, his leash in her hands. She didn’t have to tug, Dean was more than happy to jump out and set his paws onto the ground again, eager to get somewhere warm and dry with food in his stomach. Walking up the garden path to reach her front door, he notices movement to the left of him and immediately stopped to try and work it out.  

“Evening, dear!” An elderly woman popped her head above her bushes, rollers in her hair and a smile wide across her mouth. Dean noticed how she immediately looked down at him, her eyebrow arching slightly.  

Oh great, a nosey neighbour, he thought, because what neighbourhood doesn’t have one.   

“Oh hey, Mrs Kirkman,” his rescuer replied politely, offering a little wave as she did so. He could tell by her tone that even she got fed up with her neighbour from time to time.  

“Got yourself a new friend, Y/N?” Mrs Kirkman asked, her eyes still staring down at him.  

Y/N. Nice to finally know your name. Didn’t want to be calling you burger lady forever, Dean mused, turning to look up at the woman next to him.  

“Oh, sort of,” Y/N sighed, knowing if she didn’t tell the story her neighbour would only ask anyway. “I found him all caught up in barbed wire in an alley, I’m gonna take him to the vet in the morning to see if we can find who he belongs to,” she finished.  

  That’s what you think, I’ll be gone before sunrise. Dean didn’t know if dogs could frown but he was at least attempting too. He just needed a safe place to rest, somewhere to think over what his next move would be; he wasn’t sticking around.  

“Poor thing,” Mrs Kirkman tutted. “Well, I’ll leave you be, dear. I’m sure you and your boyfriend will have your hands full this evening with this one,” she chuckled.  

“S-sure,” Y/N stammered, causing Dean to feel concerned. “Bye, Mrs Kirkman.”  

Y/N’s goodbye was quiet and he had noticed the slight change in her demeanor when the neighbour had mentioned her boyfriend. She didn’t glance down at him once as she opened her front door, the metal keys jangling against the lock as she stepped inside, gently pulling Dean with her. Once inside, she bent down and removed the makeshift leash from his neck, gesturing for him to explore if he wanted too as she walked into what he could only assume was the kitchen, shedding her wet coat along the way.  He wasn’t sure what to expect with not knowing Y/N much at all, yet he felt comforted by the things that surrounded him. The place wasn’t pristine, her shoes were not in the ready built shoe rack in the hall, there was a glass left out on the coffee table in the living room from when she was last here and as he peered into the kitchen to follow her, he noticed there were a few dirty dishes on the counter. She was perfectly normal.  

“I’ve never been so happy to be home,” Y/N whispered to herself, as she grabbed a shallow dish from the drainer before she reached into the takeout bag for the bottled water. The rustling caught his attention, reminding him that his juicy burger was still yet to be devoured. He eagerly came around and stood next to her, his eyes trained on the bag as he waited. Y/N just looked down at him, her hair framing her face as she offered him a small smile. “Guess you’re missing your home too, huh buddy?” 

You have no idea. Dean thought to himself, allowing a small huff of air to leave him.  

“Alright, buddy, let’s go eat,” she announced, grabbing the bag and holding the bowl of water as she walked into her living room, Dean hot on her heels.  

Before Y/N could even settle herself down on the couch, Dean had excitedly run around her and jumped onto the cushions to join her, waiting patiently for his food. To him, this was normal behavior, you sit down to tuck into a delicious meal but to Y/N, it was amusing.  

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” she jested, a slight chuckle passing her lips as she settled into her usual spot.  

I am. You really don’t expect me to stay on the floor do you? Once again, Dean was frowning even though it wasn’t showing. Being a dog was going to take a lot of getting used to, but he sincerely hoped that he didn’t have to, that tomorrow he would wake to find he had ten fingers and ten toes, yet he knew better than that. Life was never that easy.  

Y/N reached into the bag and pulled out her burger, Dean watched closely as she unwrapped her meal, his eyes honing in on the melted cheese that was oozing out over the bacon and steak patty. Man, he was hungry. He didn’t know whether it was because he was a dog or just because it had been hours since his last meal but he could not stop staring at the meal in her hand as she took her first, significant bite. 

“Oh, that is one good burger,” she moaned around her meal, her tongue peeking out of her lips to lick away the stray sauce that remained. Dean could feel his mouth salivating as he watched her. This is porn, this is literally food porn.     Y/N had noticed him staring and had also noticed the drool that was staring to lace her pillows and she let out a small chuckle as she reached back into the bag for the second burger. Dean couldn’t stand the wait anymore.  

Oh come, lady. Give it to me, please, he begged, licking his lips once more as a little whimper sounded from his throat, causing Y/N to smile as she began to unwrap Dean’s food before tearing the burger into little pieces. To him, this was like emotional torture. I am begging you...shit, how do dogs beg? Paws? Here, have my paw, have both paws!  

“Alright, alright,” Y/N laughed as she watched how invested he was in the food, “when was the last time you had something to eat, huh?” Her question fell on deaf ears as she placed the open wrapper full of chunks of burger in front of him.  

Come to daddy, Dean exclaimed in his mind, moving fast to start scoffing the food down him as quickly as she could. Oh my god, this is heaven.  

“Take it easy, you’ll make yourself sick,” Y/N playfully scolded, watching on with wide eyes at how fast this dog was eating. It didn’t take long, not even a minute until the whole thing was gone and Dean sat back, licking his mouth as proud as punch. He didn’t care that he ate it super quick, he didn’t care that he could feel some of it lodged in his throat because it tasted that good. It was only when he started to cough that he went a little more wide eyed. Maybe she was right... 

“Here have some water,” she encouraged, picking up the bowl of water from the floor to bring it in front of his face. Dean just looked down at the bowl before he looked back up at Y/N, questions forming in his mind.  

How the hell am I supposed to drink this? He looked back down at the water and he knew if he wanted a drink, he’d have to at least give it a go. He’d seen dogs drink before, he could do this...right? With a deep breath, Dean angled his neck down and opened his mouth. At first, he began to bite at the water, not a lot actually going into his mouth before he realised he had to use his tongue too. He could feel the water splashing onto his face through his many failed attempts at having a drink and when he heard Y/N giggle, he stopped what he was doing to look up at her.  

“You’re a mucky pup, aren’t you?” she chuckled, amusement glistening in her eyes as she stared at him, moving the bowl back down to the floor before she started to tidy the mess of their dinner away.  

I’d like to see you try, lady, it’s harder than it looks! Dean felt himself huff as he watched Y/N walk away with the empty wrappers in hand. He was already finding being a dog taxing; not being able to free yourself if you get caught, not being able to open your own damn burger and now he had to drink water out of a bowl. It had only been a few hours since the change and he was already so done with it all.  

While she was out of the room, Dean jumped down and began to really take in his surroundings. He noted the large bookcase in the corner which was adorned with photos. There was a lone chair by her bay window that was covered with a faux fur throw. A small keyboard and guitar on the opposite side of the room, music sheets littering the space around them. Her walls were covered with framed classic movie posters, some of which he highly approved of. So far, so good.  

The sound of shuffling made Dean turn his head and halt his exploring. Y/N had returned, however this time her hair was in a bun on top of her head and she had changed into more comfortable clothing. He slowly made his way back over to her but on this occasion, he stayed close to the chair that was angled next to the window, choosing to jump up and lay there. She settled herself back down onto the couch, taking a sip from her vanilla shake before she turned on the television. Dean noted how she went straight to netflix, snuggling herself down in a blanket as she waited for the streaming service to load. It was only then, that she looked for him and began to pat her hand to her thigh to beckon him over. But Dean didn’t move an inch. 

“Yeah I get why you wouldn’t want to cuddle me, boy,” she whispered, dejectedly, “seems to be a theme to my evening,” she muttered, leaning back into the couch and placing her head on a pillow, before she started the show that was next on her watchlist.  

Dean was grateful for what Y/N had done for him so far; but he wasn’t the cuddling type of dog. Hell, he wasn’t any type of dog. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings by not going over to her, though to him, it all felt a little strange. There was no way he could explain this to her. For one, he was unable to speak and two, if he were able too, she’d mark herself as crazy for being able to hear him talk. What was he meant to do? Go searching through her books until he finds one with a dog in and point his paws at it? I ain’t no Lassie.  

Sniffling brought him from his thoughts, his eyes focusing on the woman who was curled up on the couch. He watched from his position on the chair as Y/N quietly wiped at her eyes. She was crying, that much was obvious, and Dean could only assume that this so-called ‘boyfriend’ Mrs Kirkman mentioned was the cause of her anguish. He was unsure how to best handle her. He couldn’t comfort a woman he barely knew over a situation he knew nothing about, yet he couldn’t just sit here and watch as she sobbed into a fresh kleenex. Making his decision, he slowly made his way down from the chair to her side, nudging at her with his nose to show her he was there if she needed him before he lay down on the floor in front of her. He didn’t see the small smile she gave at his actions but he did feel the hand that came down and gently stroked his back in thanks.  

For now, this was fine but tomorrow, things were going to be different. He wasn’t a pet, nor was he anyone’s lap dog. He was Dean Winchester and his priority was getting back to his brother. His priority was turning back into his human form. Tomorrow he will find Sam, no matter the cost.  

——————————————– Chapter Two –>  ——————————————–

A/N: So begins a new series! I hope you guys enjoyed it so far. Thanks so much for reading. Please let me know your thoughts if you have time <3

Tag list is open!

If you fancy coming in this mini Dean adventure with me, let me know HERE :)

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@squirrel-moose-winchester​ / @snffbeebee​ / @cappsikle​ / @couldabeenamermaid​ / @spaghettiwoes​ / @lynne1993​ / @maddiepants​ / @alwaysdreamingforthebest​ / @31shadesofbrown​ / @mrswhozeewhatsis​ /  @thefaithfulwriter​ / @spnbaby-67​ / @not-quite-dead / @blackcherrywhiskey​ / @helpmeluci​ / @myownsnowflake​ / @hobby27​ / @big-sad-energy / @coffee-obsessed-writer / @spnhollis​ / @zoerayne2426​/ @ariasnyder​ / @phantom-soilder​ / @amandamdiehl​ / @geeksareunique​ / @keymology​ / @markofdean79​ / @flamencodiva​ / @jesseswartzwelder​ / @stoneyggirl​ / @cpag7​ / @heavensangel45135​ / @dapresidentsshoelaces​ / @donnaintx​ / @deanwinchesterficsx​ / @tranquility-or-chaos​​ / @katehuntington​​ / @miraclesoflove​ / @shay-rav​ / @pisces-cutie​ / @chocolateheart​​ / @deanwanddamons​​ / @jayesdream​​ / @idksupernatural​​ /

Dean Queens:

 @x-waywardaf-x​​ / @adoptdontshoppets​​ / @roonyxx​​ / @akshi8278​​

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 @afangirlsbubble / @invisiblexnobodyximportant​ / @itsdesiree86 /  @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester / @mylovelydame21 / @supernatural-bellawinchester / @deanwinchesterswitch / @foxyjwls007 / @dawnie1988

[cranetreegang]

OC Witcher Fanfic: Part 2: First Night Together

A/N: Part 2 of the series I'm writing. I'm really enjoying writing this piece and I can't wait until we get a bit further in. Big plans!!! I'm trying not to give too much away right now, but I'm doing my best to hint at it. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think and all that good stuff.

Summary: Lanas and Nis spend their first night together on the open road. Lanas has serious doubts about Nis, and Nis is testing Lanas' limits. Nis finds out a bit more about Lanas, despite Lanas' best attempts to keep to himself.

Word Count: ~2,000

Warnings: Dead animals, skinning and eating of animals, and mentions of blood

Read Part 1 Here

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The pair managed to travel far enough down the road to not feel the shaking of the lumber mill underneath their feet. The fresh air of the Magpie Forest made Ivalo a distant memory. Lanas' sour mood was lifted for a few moments before Nis’ mouth brought his mood back down again. She felt the need to tell him how nice of a day it was, and pointing out every flower and tree she thought was interesting.

Once the sun was dipping past the tree line, Lanas figured that making camp would be a better option than continuing. He wasn’t in the mood to hear Nis complain about being tired or sore. And he also didn’t want to deal with protecting her from any monsters that may be lurking in the dark. He dismounted without a word and Nis was quick to follow.

“Good idea. This seems like as good of spot as any.” She beamed.

They led their horses off the dirt path towards a clearing just out of view. They tied their horses to a low hanging tree branch and removed their saddles. Nis let her horse feed out of a burlap sack while Lanas brushed out Horse’s dusty fur.

“Who’s a good girl, Pip? You are!” Nis cooed repeatedly as the horse ate. Once Pip got her fill, Nis patted Pip on her neck then shot off into the woods. “I’ll get us a rabbit! You make the fire.”

Lanas was about to argue, but she was already gone. He let out an annoyed sigh as he fed Horse some apples. Pip nudged Lanas’ arm. Her cognac eyes begged for the same sweet treat as Horse. Lanas’ lip curled for a brief moment before his shoulders sagged.

“Fine.” He patted the grey nosed mare as the gentle beast ate the apple with glee. Pip licked over Lanas’ hand and snorted. He wiped the sticky slobber onto his pants then set off to find wood.

His mind wandered to Nis as he gathered various sized sticks and logs. He was somewhat thankful that she didn’t talk too much this afternoon. He could only stand her babbling for so long, and he had only known her for less than eight hours.

She wanted to know more about him, like most that briefly traveled with him. Trivial small talk was something he never understood the point of, nor wanted to partake in. Him and Nis would part ways after dealing with this cyclops, so there was no point in him divulging her. He could tell she wanted to press him into talking, but she relented to talking about the things she saw on the road after he refused to answer her questions. He also had no desire to learn anything about her. He’s seen enough of her type to know.

She’s a young wannabe; looking to make a name for herself in the monster killing business. At least she wasn’t totally stupid, since she hired him to help her. Most wannabe’s couldn’t sacrifice enough of their pride, or coin, to admit that a quarry was too much for them. Lanas mused to himself that she must just be getting started. In fact, this cyclops was probably her first job.

She probably asked her father to give her some crowns to buy some gear and weapons. The father, more than likely, thought it would be frilly dresses and rings she’d come home with. Lanas chuckled to himself when he pictured Nis’ father in horror staring at his precious daughter in her leather armor and a bow far too large for her. And Nis was probably smiling proudly back at her father with not the faintest idea of what she was getting herself into. She’d know soon enough. If she lived that long anyways.

By the time he created a well-sized fire, Nis emerged with two rabbits in her hand. She threw them on top of Lanas’ boots with a proud grin.

“Gott’em right between the eye. Didn’t even know what hit’em.” She bragged. His eyes flickered from the dead rodents then back to her.

“Good work. You killed two little bunnies.” Lanas kicked the rabbits away from him. Nis rolled her eyes with a slight scoff.

“These weren’t ordinary little bunnies.” She grabbed the rabbits and pulled out a dagger from her belt. “They were practically rabid. Monstrous ‘lil beasts.”

She started to slice and skin the rabbits until she was satisfied. She stuck a stick between the both of them and set them over the fire. She washed her hands with her leather flask of water, but it did little good. She frowned as she stared at her still bloody hands. She wiped her wet hands on her legs then went about sheathing away her bow and quiver to her saddle. She sat down next to Lanas with an exaggerated sigh.

Lanas leaned his head back against the tree they were leaning on. The bark chipped away onto his messy hair, not that he cared. He felt a nudge on his side that was gentle and probing. He thought about swatting Nis away. But, he stayed his hand and instead chose to glare down at the freckled woman.

“So, that bear amulet. I’ve never seen one like that on a witcher.” She said.

“Probably not.” His gaze focused on the roasting rabbit over the lapping fire.

“Why’s that? Are you a rare breed of witcher?” She asked.

“Something like that.”

She nodded in feign understanding. Her eyes scanned over his features once more. He shifted under her gaze despite not wanting to show it. He didn’t like the way she was peeling back layers of him when she had no right to. He decided to keep his attention on the crackling fire and ignore the way the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

He was different under the fire’s dim light; much more animalistic in her opinion. His dark brows were constantly formed into a scowl of some sort. His nose was pointed with a hint of bump on his bridge from being broken on more than one occasion. His sharp cheekbones further accented his diamond-shaped face. His amber eyes were dangerous. Predatory. She found herself being dragged back to them more times than she would like to admit. He was more like a wolf than a bear, she mused to herself. A jagged scar came across his nose then harshly down his scruffy cheek that put his other minor nicks to shame.

When her eyes landed on the tips of his ears peeking through his dirty black hair, she couldn’t help but exclaim, “Oh! I didn’t know you were an elf.”

Lanas’ lip curled into a snarl when he stared at her. “Is that a problem?”

“Of course not. I was just merely observing.” She held her hands up to ease the bristled man. He snorted and turned his head back to the fire.

She bit her lip before saying, “I didn’t think they let elves become witchers. But, I suppose you aren’t a full elf, are you?”

Lanas hummed in agreement. “Yes. I was… an exception.”

“Interesting. You must’ve been quite remarkable then.” Nis stated.

His dark brows furrowed. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Nis couldn’t stop an amused laugh from escaping her lips. She rested her head on her knuckles with a thoughtful expression. “I’m not trying to fill your head with false pleasantries. I was merely stating the obvious. They would’ve never trained you if you weren’t special.”

Lanas rolled his eyes with a slight shake of his head. “I suppose. Not like I can ask them.”

“Because they’re dead?”

Lanas let out a sharp exhale that was similar to a brief laugh. “Something like that.”

Nis let out a gentle laugh that made Lanas squirm in place. It felt like she was in on a joke at his own expense. She leaned further back until her head was angled better to look up at the sky.

“You’re quite the chatty one, aren’t you? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think your tongue was made of steel instead of silver.” She teased.

“Fortunate that you’ve hired me for my blade, and not my tongue then.” Lanas turned over the roasting rabbits.

“Mhm… fortunate indeed.” She hummed to herself. “Truth be told, I am surprised you took the job. Figured you’d turn me down.”

“If I had another job lined up, then yes.” Lanas grumbled.

“Really? Even if I would’ve offered you more crowns than your other job?” Nis’ gaze landed on the witcher. His back straightened. He was feeling far too on edge from Nis’ seemingly innocent eyes.

“Yes.” His answer strained through his clenched teeth. “I prefer to do these things alone.” He stressed the last word with a pointed stare right back at Nis.

“Ah. I see. So, you’d’ve taken the job in a heartbeat if I wasn’t tagging along. Even though I’m more than capable of helping you.” Nis sat up and crossed her legs. She turned her attention on the fire, and Lanas let out a breath he’d been holding.

“I like working alone. Easier that way.” He stood up and grabbed the roasted rabbits. He handed one stick to Nis before chopping down into the rodent’s crispy flesh. Nis raised a brow at Lanas’ lack of manners, but chose not to comment on it.

“‘Easier that way’. What does that mean? How could working alone be easier? Wouldn’t it be easier to have someone watching your back?” Nis asked her questions between bites.

“Just is. Less stress.” Lanas growled. “Less annoyances.”

“I see.” Nis grinned as she added, “So, is this ‘lone warrior’ attitude an elf-thing, or a witcher-thing?”

Lanas chunked the skeletal carcass of the rabbit into the fire. The fire roared for a brief moment before settling back to its calm crackling. “A me-thing.”

“Mhm. I like that. A ‘me-thing’.” She laughed a bit more to herself. “I wonder what my ‘me-thing’ is.” She thought out loud.

“Annoying people.” Lanas replied.

Nis tossed her finished rabbit into the fire with a giggle. “I think everyone annoys you, Lanny. So, that can’t be it.”

Lanas felt a growl bubble up in his chest from the nickname. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He couldn’t lose his composure over her teasing and arrogance. Even if he wanted to teach her a lesson. He knew she didn’t know any better. Because if she did, she wouldn’t be testing him this much.

“You’re very tense, Lanny. Would you like me to make you a tea? I have a good blend. You'll be sleeping like a baby and wake up extremely refreshed.” Nis offered.

Lanas pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s getting late. You should rest. I’ll take watch.”

Nis bit her lip before nodding. “Fine, fine. Although I was looking forward to us telling scary campfire stories.”

“We leave at daybreak.” He gruffly replied.

She went over to her pack then set up her bedroll across from him. She settled into her bedroll with a content sigh. She stared up at the nighttime sky in seemingly deep thought. Lanas watched her until her eyes slowly drifted shut. He let out a relieved sigh and settled more comfortably against the tree.

He wasn’t sure if the crowns were worth having to deal with this child of a woman. He prayed that the cyclops would be there tomorrow. Then he could continue on to Dorian and find more work. He let out a sharp exhale through his nose at the possibility of her following him all the way to Dorian. He glanced over to Nis’ sleeping form. Her breathing was soft and she looked utterly at peace.

He scoffed to himself at how easily she lets her guard down. The fight with the cyclops tomorrow would more than likely get her killed. Well, he wouldn’t have to worry about her tailing him all the way to Dorian then, he grimly thought. He crossed his arms and stared out into the shadows that surrounded their camp as he waited for tomorrow to come.

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

Read Part 3 Here!

[inakoma]

UwU What would you do if I was blowing cooly into your ear the way you like it with that slight whistle and all of a sudden you feel a warm wet sensation around your feet...you look down and its Mickey Mouse and he's sucking ur toes, like he's really getting in there- it's sensual, somewhat menacing but the look in his oversized animated eyes are saying he means no harm as long as you give him what he wants and all he seems to want is your toe jam. He nibbles a lil bit and you yelp, turning to me "babe are you seeing this?", but I'm not there. There's just Goofy blowing cooly into your slowly turning face.

"We have company hyuk hyuk", he says directing his eyes past you straight ahead. You slowly turn forward to see a beaten yellow figure tied to a chair in the distance at the end of this poorly lit hallway you find yourself in. You can hear it humming a familiar tune between grunts of pain but you can't place it given the situation and the fact Mickey won't stop nibbling at the dead skin of your feet. You curl your feet trying to let Mickey know playtime is over but Mickey doesn't take too kindly to being told no. He grabs you by the ankle opens wide, so wide you can hear his jaw unhinging in three distinct clicks. There's a moment where you could swear time is at a standstill and you can see all five rows of teeth, only molars all the way back to the nested mouth that looked like a little Mickey made of flesh and you could swear it's grinning at you. You shut your eyes, grit your teeth and prepare yourself for unimaginable pain.

*fwish*

You feel a wave of air hit you in the face like a wall for a moment.

"This was NOT the plan!", you hear Mickey scream in his usual demonic screeching voice. What was weird was that the voice was coming from behind you, not by your feet. You open your eyes and Goofy has you pulled into a hug further along the cryptic hallway.

"how di-", you start your ask but Goofy presses a finger against your lip shushing you.

"hyuk hyuk", he said and smiled but there was something about the tone of it that told you he was hurting inside. "Save the sponge and get out of here, I'll handle the rat", he patted you on the head and flashed that boyish smile one last time before heading off to fight Mickey and in your heart you knew he didn't plan to escape with you.

"The sponge?", but by the time the words had left your mouth Goofy had unobscured the figure you had barely seen before. The humming now clearly a melodic muttering "I'm...a goo..fy..goober...YEGH". It was SpongeBob battered and bruised, jumper cables crocodile clipped to his nipples. Butt naked, head bowed down but every few seconds he'd raise it and jerk to either side punctuated by a grunt where he'd yelp. He was still a long ways away but you knew you had to save him for Goofy's sake.

"I'm coming for you Squarepants!", you belt out trying as hard as you can to hide your fear and sound heroic. You run as fast as your trembling legs will carry you but you miss your step and land face first a mere 2-3 metres from SpongeBob's feet. You're too close to stop now, you push yourself up to your knees.

"DON'T YOU DO IT RONAL-", Goofy's voice rang through the corridor but was cut short by his grunting you whipped around just in time to see Mickey bite a chunk out out of Goofy's left shoulder- so deep his arm was hanging by a mere few tendons.

"GOOFYYYY!!", you bellow emptying your lungs in a single breathe.

Once again time stood still, tears welled up in your eyes. Goofy stood there head hung low, slowly swaying back and forth delirious. Victorious, Mickey turned to you ,"he always thought himself big dawg around here but in the end he was just a lil bitch"

*fwish*

Blood sprayed out of Mickey's chest and in the midst of it you could just about make out Goofy's fist at the centre of it.

"Whelp you are what you eat hyuk hyuk", the second hyuk came with a mouthful of blood.

Goofy stumbled towards you step by excruciating step you watched as blood gushed down and out of his left side. Even in this state he still boomed that smile like everything was going to be fine even though you knew no part of this was alright. You frantically crawled towards him but he shook his head ,"Save the sponge and watch out for Ronald hyuk hy-". Goofy froze.

"Goof-"

"Shh, he's here"

"What do you mean? Who's here?"

"Shh"

"It's over Goofy, the formula is as good as mine", a voice that was neither yours, Goofy's or SpongeBob's perpetual muttering spoke up. You look around haphazardly trying to find the source of the voice but see nothing.

"You leave her out of this, they don't know anything"

"I'd very much like to confirm that myself"

"I'm afraid I can't just stand by and let you do that Ronald"

"You should be very afraid, mutt", the man, Ronald appeared holding a red metal bat in front of Goofy mid swing,"and its Mr McDonald to traitors like you" When the swing made contact there was no standstill this time- there was just the crack of Goofy's skull against the bat then the squelch of his carcass flung to the wall. There it stuck for a moment like how raindrops trailing down a window pause for a moment before continuing down. Was the rain hesitant to go down that path? Did it know it was to return to the whole and want to hold onto its individuality? Did Goofy know some part of him would return to a whole? Your mind racing to uncomfortably wishful places. There was no one left to save you now- no one but yourself.

"we..re...all..goo..fy...goo...bers...YEA", the refrain continued in the silence that ensued after Goofy slumped to the floor. It startled you even though the refrain had never stopped. Why was he still singing? If it was to signal Goofy there was no point now?

Mr McDonald turned to you, squatted so you were as close to eye level as he could get with his disproportionately lanky figure. His eyes were far from anything in this universe, a deep purple hue with shifting black and silver shapes in a rhythmic flux. He smiled, "Tell me the secret ingredient to the krabby patty formula"

"I d-don't know"

McDonald stretched his swinging arm back. The way he moved was like a slapstick animation, at odds with reality. The way rules of depth didn't seem to apply to him so when he swung it sort of looked like he was still stretching further back. By the time I realised the bat was coming for me it was too late. There was red then there was black...

[warmbeebosoftbeebo]

The Slow Unfurling (continuation of the Slow Unraveling)

other parts here

does anyone want me to still do tags? if so:  @greatheromuffinpalace @paypoulterer1 @anyh0w @anobsessioncalled @panicsinning @queerbrendon @prettyoddfiction @iwriteficsnottragediesladies @uriellybrendon @pageoftheclouds @brendonuriesbubblyass @ier0-must-die @itriedallthenamesiwantedaretaken @xfoxtalynx @spacesams00 @satanspuppet-x @1-800-hallelujah @ryrostan @tacobelltylerr @urie-dreams 

just message me to be added or taken off the tag list. i was also thinking of pming people the link to the story instead? any preferences? 

I love writing this and I love our boy! This is the most drawn out I’ve done teasing/flirting/touching in pg-ways with no sex except for in thoughts/dreams in a fic, I think, and I think our reader and our boy may be getting some blue bulbs and blue balls, respectively, that they take care of when they’re not together...

---

B loves coming over for two main reasons: you and Tessie, so he's over the next afternoon after he comes back from Hawaii. Tessie is really big and always excited to see him so she usually knocks him over, assuming he doesn't assume the position first, or is sitting on the couch or leaning against something, licking him as he giggles on his back, giving her pets, pats, smoochies, scritches...

You get distracted by his lips, let's be honest, especially as you get lost in your thoughts as the high hits you, Bad Religion, Lita Ford, X- Ray Spex, Against Me, Manic Street Preachers in the background, punk that gets broken up by Public Enemy, TLC, PJ Harvey, who is pretty punk herself too. You love how into the music he gets, even more than you tend to, although seeing him so gleeful, joyous, even campy and animated at times makes you even happier too, matching his pleasure.

He's darker than you now, and you wonder how much of him is tanned, imagine what your skin would look like on each other's, you laying on him between his thighs, wrapped around each other, kissing him, rocking your mound against his dick and balls... Giggling as you both sing along to Ain't 2 Proud 2 Beg. He purses his lips to take a drag, and you're thinking of them on yours, your skin, between your legs too after your playlist switches to Tori's Raspberry Swirl...

Being high makes him way less anxious too, relaxed. He's still surprised your parents let you smoke pot, in the house and everything, even after you told him they told you about how they used to use it too. You two munch on chips, fruit, chocolate covered almonds. He lays his head in your lap as you rub his belly and he makes whiny puppy noises, both of you bouncing to the Clash's Complete Control. You let Tessie in your room when the smoke clears through the window and switch to a calmer playlist. Suede's The Drowners, but still. The obvious homoeroticism is not lost on either of you, both of you grinning. You have a double bed so she can fit in with you, and you wind up petting his hair, neck, back as he pets a now calm her, her fitting some against his front. "You my lil pup, Bren?" He nods, ruffing, and nuzzles his nose against your thigh.

You think about bringing your plan slash resolution slash feeling the waters out up, but don't want to ruin the moment, Fiona Apple's Never is a Promise adding a lovely sadness to the sweetness. Then grooving to Bowie's Starman, B telling you sometimes he feels like a starman... He joined Ryan, Spence, and Brent in the Summer League, they changed their name to Panic! At the Disco, and he just became their singer. Letting that inner starman come out more, you tell him. “Just wonder if we'll ever get Ziggy Stardust, too?”

-

Your mom and dad get you a peach-kiwi-berry and cream pie for your birthday a couple days later—you've always preferred pie to cake—and your first cell phone for your 17th birthday, so you call B on it, inviting him over for leftover pie before you go to the punk house show. He brings over some presents from Hawaii: a couple leis, matching Hawaiian shirts for you and him, seashells, an alcohol he has to tell you how to pronounce a couple times, a book about Hawaiian goddesses, as well as an old guitar of his and sheet music for Tori Amos. And some dank weed. You are such a pothead now. You played guitar in class at your old school last year, played his at his place too, “now you've got one for your own.” All happy and nervous. You can tell he likes treating people, and he tells you that he loves doing this for his friends. You want to treat him back, but don't want to wait until his birthday all the way in April.

You sneak out to drink a couple times—no longer complaining of your love for fruity ones after you tease him back about the Capri Sun and other fruit juices he loves—him drinking it too. You mosh with him before you have to beg off because some guys use it as an excuse to be dickheads, too aggressive. He gets a couple pot brownies from Eric, and you sit with some friends like him, Amanda, Leah who are there too, eating them, drinking, chatting, getting into the music, or some combination thereof. Luckily there's a taco place a block away that's open late, so you two toddle over, tipsy, but not full on inebriated, him less so—“so I can be a good host.” You order a huge burrito with sweet potato, pico de gallo, avocado, black bean, peppers, rice... Doing that Austin Powers Scottish “Get in my belly!” line. Telling him he should eat his veggies too, dammit. He would look even cuter if he managed to gain some weight, the little bean. You nudge some of your burrito at him too as he eats his tacos. You both need it, even if he's the only one who needs more meat on his bones.

You spill some on the Hawaiian shirt and he immediately reaches over, wiping if of your breast.  “Uh... sorry...” he pulls his hand away but you smile, tell him it's ok. Then giggling, you pat his breast too, saying that's how ok it is. Then smooch him on the cheek, before plowing that burrito down, only breaking to grin and look at him. You make it back a couple songs into the next group, but the last one's the best, you and B dancing at the edge of the crowd. You want to kiss him so bad, thanking him over and over, so you do: a peck on the lips. “You're the best, B.” You nuzzle noses with him, hugging him close, swaying, feeling so warm and happy and buzzed, aware your crotch is lightly on his thigh, but you don't pull away. Kind of in love too. You pull him to a loveseat for more cuddles, touching his hands, arms, hair, face, smooching over his forehead, cheeks, nose too—“cutest face ever, B”—back, thigh, petting, massaging, asking a couple times if it's ok, saying he can do it back. He does, more cautious than you are, probably more worried than he often is because you're still tipsy. Fuck, you want to... fuck him every which way into next week,

Walking to the bus stop, you keep touching him, holding hands, brushing shoulders, thighs, hips. You're glad your parents are open-minded, because “Wanna sleepover, B?” They thought he was gay before you told them he was bi, but they'd still be cool with him staying over, even in your bed.

Since you were sixteen, they told you you could have boys over, as long as you were careful, that your mom could take you to the sexual health clinic, that you could have fun in ways that you didn't have to worry about getting pregnant. That they didn't want to tell you you should do things, but they didn't want you hiding things. The few people who knew how they were were surprised you didn't take more advantage, with boys, sex, booze, drugs... You've not done drugs other than pot and booze, not even cigarettes, and there's only been two other boys, one good, one... not, and mostly clothed fooling around. Seems like kids with strict or completely checked out parents were the ones who chased those things, or fell into it.

They knew about those two other boys but not much detail, hell they already knew about you masturbating since you were a baby, and you've told them about crushing on B too, being all touchy with him, leaving out how turned on he got you, the dreams and fantasies... They told you about oral and manual stuff just in general terms, and you made out, grinded with Jax, came with him, wished you two were less shy so you felt free to continue with him, but B told you about outercourse, rubbing on each other, all these different ways, and in more detail...

You just wear shorts and a sportsbra to bed, and he wears shorts of yours and a tshirt. You want to say you'd be down for sleeping naked, but don't want to weird him out, or make him worry about you being too drunk/high to know what you're saying. You're just buzzed now; you know what you'd be saying, and are clearheaded enough to want it, like you'd want to say and do it completely sober too. You do ask him for cuddles and hair pets though, and he grins, nodding, so you gladly oblige on each other, humming and singing songs to each other to get the other to guess what it is.

You, cackling, wake him up with a slap on the ass after 10 because he's on his belly, sheet around his legs. “Couldn't help it, B. Dat ass.” He blushes, and you grin. “I could smooch it better?” He cocks his eyebrow, flushing, but smiling, a soft “you want to?”, so you kiss his lower back first, then the soft skin where your shirt is riding up on him. Then his clothed butt. It's so silly it doesn't seem like a wtf moment or like it's giving anything away.

He strips off, except for his boxer briefs, and grabs his clothes, saying he should've been home already, for family time. “At least I brought you breakfast,” you say, holding out the last of the pie. You feed it to him as you wait for the bus with him. As you see it approach, you kiss him closemouthed on the lips again, hold his hand, thank him for a lovely birthday. “Must be the best birthday ever, Bren, thanks to you.” He gets up and you hug him close. “Best boy ever, B,” you whisper in his ear, hands circling from his back to his ass. “That ok?”  

“More than ok...”

Damn, you love all of him, including his booty. “Lovely all over. Butt, too” makes him blush even more than he already is, even grinnier than you.

“Th-thanks. Y-oh, God—you're great too. I mean, the best birthday girl. Uh...” Neither of you have time to finish, because the bus stops, and you tell him not to miss it so he doesn't get in more trouble.

-

When you're back in class the next day you talk each other's ears off about visiting his family, how everything and everyone in Hawaii is beautiful in their own ways, you wishing you got to see it too, saying you've only been to Scotland and England, also because of family, with their oceansides and hilly farms and castles. He's got a lot of Scot in him too. Chatting until Ms Eliot glares at you two for at least a second time, clearing her throat loudly.

You keep touching him even more than before, matching your birthday celebrations: his hair, imagining flowers in it, his almost brown now skin, thinking he'd get Hawaiian flowers if he got any tattoos like he sometimes talked about. Picturing him naked even, swimming, or covered in flowers, or only in a grass skirt, or the cloth skirts both sexes wore. Or kissing that couple he got a crush on in a matter of hours... Clearly, that beauty rubbed off on him too, making him even more gorgeous. Hand on his thigh, hip, even. When he smiles, remembering the lushness and from your touches, you melt. He promises you pictures soon, saying he first panicked because he thought he lost the camera (it was in his mom's things), then forgot to get them developed, then they couldn't do it over the weekend. He wanted to show them to you and tell you about it at the same time because he can't really do it justice, but couldn't hold off anymore.

You grab onto his hand, nudge your shoulder into him as you're walking in the halls. You sit next to him during lunch, thighs and arms touching, pressing. After, you play with his hair and he just melts into it as you sit in the grass after. He touches back, your back, arm, nuzzles into your hugs and lap. Let's out little moans as you play with the nape of his neck, scalp... You find the small of his back, and he likes there too, even able to feel those Venus dimples he has too, fingertips daring over that strip of bare skin, wanting to go lower... so you do, hand resting on his ass, thumb stroking, sometimes patting to a beat. Watching his blissed out face, lush lips. It's turning you on, quite a lot, thinking about some of the things you could get up to, but you don't stop.

People have assumed that you're either a) boyfriend-girlfriend or b) a gay and his fag hag for a while now, even a couple brother-sister assumptions, but this may be upping it a level.

[nad-zeta]

How’s the most precious girl doin? I’m just here to get a ikesen and maybe ikerev mashup If your ok with that~ Hobbies: - music - comics - bored games - editing - writing My personality: I’m pretty outgoing but I don’t like crowded areas. I like quiet places or just being around a few good friends. I love making people laugh so I’m pretty funny~ and I find it hard to trust others. I’m pretty clumsy and get injured a lot too. I love sweet things and I get distracted super easy. Thx again❤️

Hi, there, dear! I hope you are doing well ❤️ Thanx so much for the request lol! I hope you enjoy it! ❤️ 

So I match you with.......................... Hideyoshi

The first time you got to Azuchi you and Hideyoshi did not get on well, at all. You were by no mean a quiet, meek lil lamb, so you definitely told Nobunaga how it is. You are loud and outgoing, and not afraid to let your opinions be known. Nobunaga found this to be extremely amusing, and as he went to touch your cheek, you legit slapped his hand away, you may have saved him from a burning building, but he was still a stranger. Hideyoshi was shook to his core, how dare you lay a hand on his lord. He saw red, he staked up to you, hand on the hilt of his sword. You stared him down. The atmosphere around the two of you was thick, just then you spotted a monkey playing in the garden. Like Wft, where did a freaken monkey come from? You watched the monkey play, forgetting all about the tense situation happening around you. Your face lit up in a bright smile when you saw the lil monkey chase around a butterfly man it was so cute.

 Hideyoshi cleared his troat still staring you down, shit you got distracted. You started telling him exactly what you thought of him, when all of a sudden, a fawn now appeared in the garden. Like, are these people secret zookeepers or what. You had to resist the urge to run outside and pet the lil cutie. As you were lost in your own world, distracted by the animals, the warlords started laughing and teasing you and Hideyoshi. “Haha, Looks like the lass got distracted again, I told you its boring to listen to your lectures.” “The little mouse certainly is an interesting little thing.” Even Nobunaga laughed “Seems like our new lucky charm has found a way to block out Hideyoshi’s annoying lecture, a skill I wish to learn from her. It might make my candy stealing lectures pass by much quicker.” Hideyoshi legit stood there dumbfounded. Shit, you got distracted again, damn these people and their cool wildlife. You stared up at Hideyoshi, all traces of your anger and frustration had melted away, there is just something about seeing cute animals that just calm you right down. Nobunaga finally decided to chime in telling Hideyoshi to calm the hell down and to leave you be

You worked super hard for the castle and its people, and you loved getting to know all the maids and castle staff. You had a particularly good day one day when you found the castles music room, you were low key surprised at the wide variety of instruments on display. You spotted what looked to be a piano in the corner of the room and couldn’t help but drift to it. Your fingers effortlessly glided along the keys, playing one of your favourite songs. Hideyoshi just so happened to walk past the music room at that exact moment and was awestruck at the beautiful melody you managed to produce. No one around had known how to play the western instrument that Nobunaga had acquired as tribute from his newest ally. He stood for a while and listened to you play. 

All of a sudden midway through the song you fell to the ground. Hideyoshi sprinted across the room and cradled you in his arms. It was the first time he really had a look at you. He saw dark rings around your eyes, and your skin was ghostly white. He had been so busy suspecting you and criticising your work that he had looked past the fact that you were working yourself into an early grave. He effortlessly lifted you up into his strong arms and carried you to your room. He carefully tucked you into the futon. It had been a full month, and you hadn’t done anything shady, sure the way you talked was a lil strange but other than that, you were actually just a sweet, kind girl, trying your hardest to fit in. Hideyoshi felt like kicking himself for being such an idiot.

You woke up the next day and was absolutely shook. Hideyoshi came into your room and served you breakfast and tea in bed. You had to rub your eyes to make sure you weren’t dreaming. He then bowed down low and apologise profusely for being such an ass to you. The way he was apologising you could have sworn he killed your firstborn son or something. You just smiled at him and shrugged saying it was cool and there was no hard feeling. Since that day you got to see the true doting mother-hen come out. He took you to the markets and insisted on buying you everything and anything you wanted. You were a little reluctant… that is, until you saw the candy stand. You sprinted to the shop and examined all the small candy treats they sold. Honestly, the thing you missed the most about home was not being able to eat sweets. You looked up at Hideyoshi with puppy dog eyes. He bought the whole shop’s stock, although he restricted your candy intake like he did Nobunaga. Needless to say, you were not happy about that. 

One night your sweet tooth was acting up, and you just needed to get your hands on some more candy. You snuck your way to the kitchen, climbed onto the counter and reached up to grab the jar. You got a fright when Nobunaga had climbed up next to you and grabbed the jar at the same time as you. “What are you doing here,” “Same as you fireball, stealing candy cause Hideyoshi has restricted me to only one piece a day, a restriction I find unacceptable of course.” After the two of you had munched on a few handfuls of candy, a familiar light flickered down the hallway and just like that Nobunaga disappeared into the shadows of the night, leaving you with the evidence. Hideyoshi came into the kitchen and saw you with the candy jar in your lap. He literally lectured you for three hours on the importance of not eating too much sugar especially at night, what he didn’t expect is that he would crumble under your puppy dog eyes, as since then he would give you some candy every time you went to visit him for tea. TBH he low key favoured you above Nobunaga giving you sweet candy treats just so he could see that cute smile grace your face

You were definitely giving Hideyoshi more grey hairs than Mitsunari ever could with your clumsiness. If you weren’t falling over your own feet, you were accidentally knocking vases down. It was for this reason that Hideyoshi would insist on holding your hand whenever the two of you went out to the markets. You clumsiness truly knows no bounds as one day Hideyoshi took you to one of his fav tea houses to relax and eat some lunch. You were so engrossed in conversation with the mama bear that when you reached out to take a sip of tea, your fingers slipped spilling piping hot tea all over your lap. You tried to play it cool like you didn’t just burn your legs with the hot as hell tea, but nothing gets past Hideyoshi. In an instant, he was by your side, helping you clean up the mess and dragging you back to his manor to evaluate the damage. You were so freaken embarrassed as he rubbed some salve onto the small burn wound that had formed on your thigh, Hideyoshi simply gave you his bright sunshine smile and patted your head. You found it difficult to trust people, but somehow his man now patting your head had managed to break through all your wall. You didn’t know the exact moment you had fallen for the castles mom, but you were definitely in love.

And Hideyoshi had long ago fallen in love with you. You meant more to him than anyone in the world… well, there is Nobunaga, but he loved you just a lil more than him. He had spent hours watching you draw little pictures in a book. You had told him you were busy writing your own comic book. You had shown him your favourite comic book from the future and told you it had inspired you to make your own. 

He got a cool idea of how to ask you to be his lover, when you had one day forgotten one of your comic books in his room. He pulled out a few sheets of paper and started making little sketches with speech bubbles. Finally, his masterpiece was complete. He wasted no time inviting you to his room to give you the gift. You opened the parcel, and your eyes went wide when you saw a small handmade book resembling one of your comics. You opened it up and started to read. It was a book about you and all the things Hideyoshi loved about you, and on the very last page, there was a little doodle of Hideyoshi with a speech-bubble stating that he loves you. You beamed up and him and jumped into his arms.

The two of you were the sweetest most doting couple. You want cuddles and snuggles Hideyoshi has got you. You and Hideyoshi have made it a tradition to have a weekly board game night where neither of you is allowed to focus on work. You know Hideyoshi has a tendency to overwork himself, so you designed this night to help him relax, plus you freaken loved playing board games. Most of the time you would sit in his lap while the two of you played. He would rub your back or gently stroke your hair as the two of you were played. You would make jokes and chat about your days. TBH it was often that these board game nights would lead to something *ahem* a little more steamy.

This man will pamper you day in, and day out, whether it is running you nice warm bubble baths or massaging your back after a long day of work, you can definitely expect to be spoilt rotten. Expect lots of soothing head pats and forehead kisses. His man will also give you a flurry of small lil kisses every time he sees you. His favourite is when you rest your head on his thigh while he gently strokes your hair while working. You truly love this big mother hen, and your fav is to be in his arms, cuddling him for hours on end.

Other potential matches.............. Sasuke 

Hope you enjoyed it, dear! 🥰