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caitlinsclark · 1 month

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GOOD LUCK BABE! caitlin clark PART II. YOU CAN SAY THAT WE'RE NOTHING caitlin clark x reader ✰ bree's notes: tw: A MAN A MAN A MAN A MAN A MAN (sorry just had to add that) enjoy my loves!! I've missed writing for you fr <3 word count: 4.7k series masterlist masterlist and tag list

The sound of things in your bag clunking together echoed throughout the hallway as you ruffled through them, a breathless groan that reiterated all the building frustration from your day prior. In the haste of escaping the stressful situation, you'd forgotten your sneakers.

You could play barefoot right? It wasn’t technically an advantage, you tried to reason with yourself internally to not have to enter the apartment again.

What a joke, you scoffed as you rubbed your forehead, feeling like an intruder in your own home. With one hand on the door knob, you sighed and pushed it open quickly, believing that the quicker you did it the quicker it would be over.

Luke called your name when you passed by him sitting in the living room, his stupid bouquet of flowers clutched dramatically to his chest where his heart was rumored to be.

Of course, they were still in perfect condition too. You bitterly mumbled under your breath as you went right into the bedroom, ignoring his half assed attempts at reconciliation.

“If those flowers even get near you,” You gently pet the cat lying on your bed as you whispered, “I’m blending them into a smoothie and he’s gonna drink it.” Your voice heightened in pitch toward the end, an affectionate boop on the nose to the furry animal before you went into the closet to retrieve your shoes.

You were rustling around when something dropped, an echo of a hollow box hitting the ground grabbing your attention. It was a small felt box, something that didn’t belong among the shoes in the closet and definitely not something of yours.

When you bent down to open it, you found yourself wishing you had gone with the decision to play barefoot. The intimidating glimmer of the diamond ring sucking all the light from your body, completely opposing how reflective it was.

Basketball clearly hadn’t taught you enough defense, leaving you startled when Luke had entered the room. The sudden imposing figure in your line of vision had you gasping, quick reflexes kicking in and throwing the ring into your bag to hide it. Your foot kicked the empty jewelry box underneath the dresser just in time for him to turn the corner.

Luke stared hard at your agitated figure, suspicion lacing the words he spoke, “You’re back. Let’s talk.” He turned around without another word, assuming you were going to follow.

It didn’t seem to be a question, and you weren’t going to let it be. Especially with the frazzled buzzing of your head that had skyrocketed to a pulsating sensation.

“Nope, I can’t do this now.” The ring felt heavy in your bag, an unpleasant and scarily unwelcome milestone that prompted your blood running cold. Your sensible mind told you that it was your shoes adding that weight, but your mind didn’t let up.

Your feet carried you hurriedly out of the door again, not even taking a second to pett the whining cat near the door on the way out. That’s how you knew you were absolutely fucked.

The pounding in your head may have been attributed to the upcoming stakes of the game, but you feared it had more to do with the metaphorical weight making it difficult to get a full breath in. The pressure that lingered as a reminder of the man living in your apartment, if the 5 missed calls lighting up your phone and the ring stowed away in your bag weren’t enough.

You tried to sit in your car for more time than you wanted to admit, an attempt at collecting yourself before facing any of the cameras. Flashes that would probably read directly into your soul, prompting narratives that might not only be speculation and hearsay.

The physically sickening feeling was almost a happy distraction from the grief your mind had been relentlessly succumbed to since the phone call with your mother.

You couldn’t quite place what changed when you entered the building, what had your buzzing senses slowing to a steady and comforting pace but it surely couldn’t have been the entrance of your best friend to your left.

You gasped at the smug smirk on Caitlin’s face as you took in your correlating outfits, not torn away from her despite the flashing cameras. It made sense why she’d asked earlier if you had tan heels as you took in her tan pantsuit.

“You look amazing,” She hummed, grabbing both your hands and spinning you wistfully toward the press. She left you laughing and holding onto her arms for stabilization as you slowed to a stop.

Caitlin gladly indulged in your hands on her biceps, leaving a lingering warmth even after they slid down to her elbows.

You wiped your forehead dramatically, letting out a puff of air at the show you two had just put on for the cameras, “I wonder where I got the recommendation from.” With an inability to take a compliment, you hid your warming face from her despite the smirk she held, signaling she’d already caught you.

One of your arms nudged her own wordlessly and she childishly did it back to you. You stumbled in your tall heels, saved like clockwork when she pulled you against her before you could fall the other way, quick and effortless like the action took no thought.

You continued side by side walking down the hallway when Caitlin carefully linked your arms together. You turned your head at the contact and gave her a small adoring smile, one that had her turning to direct her grin at the ground so you wouldn’t see her red cheeks behind her hair.

The harmonious glimmer in the air was something you only felt in Caitlin’s presence, a bond that went unsaid as you both had learned each other too well. A blissful comfort your mind and body welcomed after the anxiety your prior day.

Warm ups came and went, a fleeting comfortability of distraction that went all too fast. As you walked off the court, the prominent cameras and microphones flocked to you as if they were seagulls fighting over a scrap of food.

Your head hadn’t cleared since the discovery you made in the closet earlier, added with the pressure of their cameras pushing into your face. You tried to find something to train your eyes on, something to focus on and keep your nerves down.

You realized how bad of an idea that was when your other option was Caitlin as she waited, with her unwavering and intimidating attention focused on you. Her stature exuded confidence, legs spread as if she owned the space, her arm laid on the back of the chair beside her with a powerful grip on the metal that had the veins in her arm showing.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” You slowly blinked at the reporter, licking your lips to get rid of the dry feeling in your mouth. The brunette watched you shuffle on your feet, a nervous tell.

A gasp left your lips when a water bottle entered your side view, too focused on avoiding Caitlin’s distracting gaze to notice that she’d waltzed up with her water bottle for you. Her eyebrows were raised in an expectant manner when you took more than a second to grab it, simply knowing you all too well.

You laughed and took it from her with a gentle ‘thank you’, ignoring the rush of giddiness when she decided to stay against your side as you took a small but much needed sip.

The reporter repeated his question and put the mic toward your own mouth once he finished, though you deflated at the clearly narrative driven journalism that he showed.

“Do you think Liberty is coming into the match today looking down on your team for the previous three losses?”

You resisted the urge to side eye the brunette to your left, who you felt gently squeeze the arm behind your back in a silent acknowledgement hidden from the cameras.

“I don’t think they can look down at us, most of us are pretty tall,” You shrugged off the question, sharing a mutually playful and amused look with Caitlin beside you. Her hand moved to rest on your back in encouragement, another small squeeze that was hidden from the reporters, meant for only the two of you.

The man looked down, an attempt at hiding from the antagonizing laughs that the rest of the journalists let out. Your head turned, your temple resting on Caitlin’s shoulder as you tried to hide the unprofessional giggles you were sharing with your teammate.

Your laughter died down slowly when Caitlin lifted her phone up to her mouth like a microphone, mocking the media right in front of their faces, “Pressing question, what is your favorite movie of all time?”

You leaned into the device, now putting your hand on her shoulder to get closer to the microphone, “My favorite movie of all time is Spider-Man.” Caitlin nodded as you spoke, eyes trained on you with an intent expression at your answer.

“That upside down kiss scene changed my brain chemistry, how do you even realistically do that?” You added absentmindedly with a laugh, noticing immediately how the athlete beside you perked up like a dog who’d heard a box of treats shaking.

“I think I can hang upside down from the hoop, if you wanna try?” Caitlin smirked at you, a cockiness tainting her words that had you wanting to melt into the floor.

Her brown eyes basked in the shy tilt of your head away from her as your cheeks warmed at the words. You stumbled for some kind of response and could only settle for a dismissive laugh despite a few seconds of troubleshooting.

“Stop,” Your words were cushioned with a laugh, hands gently pushing her stomach to get some distance, ignoring how much muscle you felt in such a small interaction.

You fumbled with your hair, suddenly feeling hot and ] went back to looking at the camera to calm the increasing and intimidating beat of your heart. With a small sigh, you tried to move past the light-hearted teasing she always hit you with, but her comforting warmth against your side sucked you further in.

It was in her nature to be an instigator anyway, you tried to tell yourself as you gave your full attention to the journalist.

If only you knew that everything she’d said to you in the last three years had been anything but light-hearted. The line of Caitlin’s teasing had been long forgotten in her mind when her words had simply become scattered truths disguised with a playful attitude.

She rocked back and forth on her heels silently and tried not to pettily pull away from your alluring presence, feeling rejected yet accepted at the same time. She couldn’t find it in herself to tear apart from you, too comfortable in the warmth of your touch. Perhaps she had earned a sadist title as she let herself fall into you once again, knowing damn well you weren’t hers.

And it was a brutal reminder as you swallowed nervously and made the decision put some separation between your bodies.

The nerves began to set in as you sat in the locker room, messing with your hair as you tried to mentally prepare. Caitlin watched you from her corner, ignoring the way her teammates giggled at her repetitive glances in your direction.

Erica leaned over to whisper to Aliyah as Caitlin finally stood up and trailed across the room to sit next to you, the two giggling like school girls over gossip. The glare that the point guard sent them only made them laugh more, hiding behind their hands to communicate. The brunette’s scrunched up face was a dead giveaway to her worry for you, only hearing bits and pieces of your conversation on the phone.

“They were brand new flowers, Luke,” You insisted quietly, set on not allowing him to make you feel bad. This piqued Caitlin’s interest further when she realized what you were talking about, trying to tie her sneakers silently. She couldn’t help the way her eyes still flew to you.

“I can get you new flowers, I don’t know how to fix this,” He sounded anxious and it made your guilt spike up. You tried to ground your spinning head and give yourself a subtle reminder that this was a matter of ignorance, not incompetence.

The confusion in his voice seemed genuine, as if he was searching for a way to read your mind. Maybe you hadn’t been clear enough?

You rubbed your forehead, your closed eyes being hidden from the light not doing much to ease the headache forming, “It’s like if I threw away a Play Station gift card you hadn’t used yet because I assumed it was expired.”

The immediate ‘oh’ that left his lips in understanding was bitter sweet, an exhausting cycle of having to dumb things down as if you were babysitting a child and having to teach them respect and consequences.

“I’m sorry I made you upset,” He followed up and you felt like all the explaining you had just done had tumbled down upon analyzing his wording, “You know I’ve just missed you so much since you went pro, I don’t wanna fight when we barely talk as it is.”

The physical therapist would have yelled at you with the way your head fell aggressively back against the lockers, posture slumped and eyes still shut to shield yourself from reality. Defeat consumed you, the circles your mind had been running in paling in comparison to the circles you’d been talking in with Luke.

The hand holding your phone tiredly fell down to rest on the bench despite Luke’s voice still sounding from it quietly. There was no flinch when the device was taken from your hand, a familiar soft grasp settling on your wrist that assured you who it was. You assumed she had hung up for you when his voice was cut off abruptly.

“You’re gonna do great,” Caitlin’s voice was still easily recognizable behind your closed eyes, like a song you knew from the first beat. She didn’t miss how your lips quirked up.

“And whatever, or whoever,” the words were absolutely bitter to Caitlin’s own ears, “is upsetting you isn’t important right now.”

You peaked one eye open to glance sideways at her, “Sounds like the easy and confident words of a record breaking rookie expecting a triple double tonight.”

“It’s whatever,” she brushed off what you said, more focused on your nerves than her accomplishments. It left you baffled, shoving her shoulder to which she grasped your hand to defend another attack.

You still scoffed, giving her an incredulous look as if she’d just offended your first born, “That’s ridiculous, be proud of yourself for five seconds please.”

She silently counted five seconds in her head and you squinted at her unimpressed as you realized what she was doing. When the five seconds was up, you couldn’t help but share a laugh at her persistent sarcastic nature with a slight shove to her shoulder.

“You deserve more than five seconds, Cait,” You scolded, but laughed with her regardless.

“You should trust me, we’ve got this,” She barely acknowledged the praise and put her hand on your knee, you didn’t have to look away as you laid yours on top, “Ready?”

The nerves regarding the game seemed to dissipate, insignificant when she held out her hands and pulled you up from the bench to chest bump quickly. You landed on the ground with a breathless chuckle, turning your attention to Coach as you prepared to go out onto the court.

The game started off with a buzzing crowd and ethereal energy that didn’t seem quite real. Fans were donned in an overwhelming amount of red, eager bodies jumping at the sight of the team exiting the tunnel.

You and Caitlin had been bouncing off each other since the first whistle blew, handing the ball off to her and watching as she drained her first 3 pointer only 30 seconds into the game.

Only 5 minutes in and you couldn’t help but nudge Caitlin’s side with a glimmering smile as you passed her on the court, finding it impossible not to soak in the glory of a great lead and defense so far.

The scoreboard still lead in Fever’s favor, reading out a cheerful sight of 15-6. The straight set look on her features broke when she looked at you, sharing the moment of excitement bashfully with no extra convincing, just the influence of your smile.

By the end of the first quarter, Fever was still off to an 8 point lead. This had you and Caitlin conjoining hands excitedly when the buzzer sounded, a quick celebration amidst the chaos of the crowd and game.

The second quarter was a give and take, feeling like every shot you made, Liberty would quickly answer back with. It’d grew to a score of 33-32, Fever being only one point ahead. That was until Sabrina stepped back to drain another three, putting Liberty in the lead and lighting another fire within the players on the court.

Your eyes subconsciously flittered around until they landed on the number 22 jersey you always looked for. Finding her gaze already on yours was comforting, like she knew you needed that subtle pick me up.

3 minutes into the last quarter and you could tell that your team was giving its all. With a close score in Liberty’s favor of 66-57, it was safe to say that the final 7 minutes were crucial.

You were already on the move to the opposite end of the court when a missed shot by Thornton bounced off the rim and fell into Caitlin’s possession, marking the triple double she had been working towards.

The crowd’s screams bounced off the walls, echoing and hurting your ears in a way that you welcomed gleefully as you cheered along.

Even though you were still running toward your own basket, Caitlin caught the moment as you turned your head back in her direction with a proud glimmer shining in your eyes, a look only reserved for her. The point guard was thankful for the fact that you’d needed to turn away so she could focus back on the game. And not on the way that a new fire had ignited within her just from your wordless praise.

The ball in her hands passed to yours flawlessly, charging up to the basket as the cheers from the fans watching continued relentlessly. The whistle blew as you attempted your layup, a foul called on Thornton in your favor with the referee granting two free throws.

The roars of the crowd couldn’t stop Caitlin from taking advantage of the whistle to jog over to you, being the first to check on you despite being the furthest away. She knew what she had just accomplished, but the way you were holding your arm with a slight grimace was more of a priority.

Caitlin thought of the cameras picking up on the hand that she kept on the arch of your back all the way to the free throw line, but she truly couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“You okay?” She spoke lowly, eyebrows furred in concern as her eyes flickered over your face, lingering on the taunting view of your lips, so close yet so far.

You weren’t focused enough to notice as your hand squeezed her arm, the excitement of her triple double ranking far higher than preparing for the shots.

She set her hands on her hips and stepped back to watch you closely, less fueled by the score and more by the fact that you were the one shooting. The brunette put her arms out when the crowd continued to go wild, a clear gesture to silent the cheers and they somehow listened. Peering eyes watching her but she only focused on giving you a small nod of encouragement, now ready to take your shots and thankful for her dissipating the distracting screams.

The crowd’s energy roared again when you’d drained both shots, another push toward closing the gap in score during the intense back and forth. With only nine seconds left and a 5 point advantage, Fever was running like a cohesive machine. The crowd began cheering when Liberty’s shot bounced off the backboard and Caitlin grabbed the rebound eagerly, only dropping it when the final buzzer sounded, marking the official victory for your team.

You hopped into her open and awaiting arms the second she’d dropped the ball, a bundle of force that she welcomed and expected. Her arms came to wrap around your thighs, lifting you so high up in the air that you had to squeal and hold onto her shoulders.

Your forehead leaned to rest on the top of her head, “You are unreal.” Your voice amounted to less than a whisper, encompassing how proud of her you were.

It was terrifying how simple it was to tune out the booming volume of the crowd for Caitlin when you spoke to her in that reserved, soft voice. The brunette didn’t answer verbally, setting you on the ground gently and burying her face in your chest. Her arms slid up to your waist and you loosely wrapped yours around her upper body, cradling her head against you as you swayed back and forth.

She let herself be consumed you for just a moment, a moment where Luke didn’t exist and you were celebrating as her girlfriend. The familiarity of her body against yours could’ve had her fooled, an unsaid and unaddressed intimacy you’d both been lacking with others.

But for that split second, it went beyond words, a conscious choice to bask in the victory with only one another. Caitlin couldn’t keep the grin off her face and neither could you. Her touch only heightened the bliss you were working off of as the team retreated back to the locker room.

Caitlin was busy looking at the reporters in front of her and you took the chance to fondly flutter your eyes over her features, an enamoring glow radiating through her smile that only a win could provoke.

Her arm hung around your neck and yours around her waist, footsteps in a slow synchronization as you took your time walking down the hallway.

“I can’t believe we did that,” She breathed out, using her arm to pull your face just a little too close to hers in a fleeting moment of pure adrenaline.

You couldn’t help but admire how humble the girl in front of you had grown to be, a remarkable sense of team in a game that some played selfishly.

“Yeah,” You pretended to think and savored her gaze concentrated on your expression, “I guess you did enough to make it a ‘we’ situation.” One of your free fingers poked her stomach, indulging when she sunk right back into your side after shying away.

“Triple double, how does it feel?” A reporter cut in, walking backwards to match the pace of you and Caitlin. You cheered, your hands circling your mouth to echo the sound even louder as Caitlin laughed.

“Like another one of these,” She tugged you closer underneath her arm to make a ‘W’ with her hands, covering your overly cheesy grin from the camera, “Shoutout to the fans though, they kept us going in that second half.” The brunette couldn’t help but add humbly.

Entering the locker room felt like an orchestrated sneak attack, Caitlin thought as you lead her into the abnormally quiet area. Her teammates sat with incriminating grins, Coach standing at the front of the room with two empty spots directly beside her.

Like clockwork, the pair of you sat beside one another, a bashful grin appearing on Caitlin’s face at the building anticipation. You couldn’t help but join in on the giddiness, tinting her cheeks red when you gave her a teasing nudge.

The entire room was watching the two of you silently, fondly eyeing one another.

“First time for a rookie to get a triple double in franchise history!”

Screams erupted before Coach Sides could finish her sentence. The two of you being bombarded by a flood of cold water, courtesy of the bottles held by your teammates who ran around like sugar crazed children in the name of Caitlin’s accomplishment.

She leaned back against you fully, letting the water rain down on both of your bodies. Though the liquid was freezing enough to leave you shivering as it dripped down your jersey, you only focused on the warmth of Caitlin’s back against you and her radiant smile as the team cheered her on.

Your loud and proud hollers were her favorite. Your voice standing out to her more than the rest of the room, prompting the bashful grin and light flush of her cheeks as she rested her head back against your shoulder.

The towel you wrapped gently around her shoulders was a weak comparison to the way you’d been wrapped around her. She tried to imagine the feeling again, the ghost of your touch haunting her the second it strayed away.

She got pulled around the room by the rest of the team, but her eyes refused to stray from you every few seconds. There had only been one person she wanted to celebrate with and she was currently packing her back in the other corner. “Good job everybody,” Caitlin called out, holding up the basketball in her hands toward the rest of her team with her radiant smile on full display.

“Did you wanna do something after we get done with press?” She passed the ball back and forth between her hands, her nervousness making her movements rapid and causing her to stumble slightly.

“The franchise record breaker doesn’t have a hot date to tend to tonight?” You squinted, fumbling around with items in your bag, oblivious to the exasperation coating Caitlin’s features.

She had one particular in mind, she just wasn’t sure if the other party would consider it a date. Her hands clutched the towel on her shoulders to gain some self control back.

She’d went to open her mouth to reply, aiming to not sound overly desperate. The idea of desperation flew out the window when a tiny clink traveled into her ears courtesy of the small object that slipped out from your bag.

You had no idea, rambling on about how proud you were, something about taking time to appreciate herself. But nothing could be heard over the deafening ringing intruding on Caitlin’s senses, eyes zoned in on the diamond ring staring tauntingly back at her. A nod to a milestone that she would never reach with you.

Caitlin stayed painfully still, not even allowing her eyes to stray from the sight, scared that moving would make this moment set in reality. You were a blissful level of unaware of the war going on in her head, while the sides of morally right and corruptively gray teetered back and forth.

“Alright,” You breathed out as you hiked your bag up on your shoulder, ignorant to the glittering ring just centimeters from your foot, “I could use a drink.”

With an expert like timing, the girl waited for you to head toward the door, back facing her for just enough time to allow her to scoop up the ring in her grasp. She squeezed her eyes shut as she rose to her full height again, a silent prayer for a good segway into playing this off.

“You coming?” You turned around to ask, facing Caitlin just in time to see her standing up in a rushed movement. One hand fiddled with her hair while the other was gripped in a fist, clasping tight to hold in all the secrets that threatened to break loose.

“Coming.” Her legs carried her to you with no further hesitance, a pit of dread slipping into her stomach, in unison with the harrowing ring sliding achingly into her jacket pocket.

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thewulf · 8 months

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Little One || Aragorn

Summary: Request -I had an Aragorn request that I wanted to send you; if it’s something you’d be interested in writing I know it’ll be perfect (but if it doesn’t strike your fancy I completely understand)!! After reading your fic with the orc attack I was thinking about how Aragorn would respond to reader being injured defending the hobbits... Read Rest Here

A/N: Thank you for the request @fluentmoviequoter !! Had so much fun writing this, hope you enjoy :) Kinda angsty but hella fluffy as always :)

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.1k +

TW: orcs, talks of blood, arrows, getting shot, yelling, angsty

You and Strider had been Rangers together for the better part of fifty years now. The two of you quickly found solace in the other. The two of you just seemed to compliment the other. What he lacked you picked up for him and vice versa. It wasn’t often he could find somebody who just understood him. So, he decided to keep you close but always safe.

He did what he wanted after all. He had a high enough ranking quickly. You were assigned nearly every patrol, raid, quest whatever the hell it was he did it with you. And you learned quicker than you had ever thought even possible with his aid. He wasn’t brutal on you, but he was not easy by any stretch of the imagination. He wanted you alive, so he trained you to stay that way. He had to be a little mean. A little too much sometime. For that was the real world. You couldn’t go out in the world as freely as one once could.

So, when Gandalf proposed the deal of getting the Hobbits from Bree to Rivendell he had agreed on the condition you could come with them. He wasn’t willing to leave you in some random village town in Eriador. No, he would never do that. Gandalf had agreed without a second thought thinking it was a good idea to have two Rangers instead of one.

You had decided fairly quickly that the Nazgûl was on your list of least favorite things in middle-earth you’d had the pleasure of coming across. You could deal with spiders and orcs buts these creatures were eerily different. Ice cold and terrifying, soul sucking. But you needed to remain stoic in the face of it all to help the Hobbits. The poor things were shaking they were so terrified. You’d tried stories of tales far and wide to shake their minds of their troubles, but it seemed no use as they only looked to the two of you in terror around every twist and turn.

When you stopped for the night to camp you’d noticed that Strider had led you deep into a dense forest. You’d never been the best at tracking, so you often led it to him. You really should’ve paid better attention before as you were often so reliant on his talents.

“I am off to gather a few plants for some tea. I will be back in an hour. Y/N, I trust they shall remain safe in your care?” He asked and you nodded without so much as a second thought.

“Of course.” You smiled to him, “Off you go. I know how mean you get without your tea.” That earned a hearty round of laughs from the Hobbit’s as they laid out their bedrolls for the night. It was nice to hear such a pleasant sound instead of hearing the screeching in the distance.

“I will remember that.” He glared at you with humor in his eyes before ducking into the night.

You turned back to the Hobbit’s with a stupid smile on your face not quite realizing how much you were giving way of your likeness towards the man, “Off to bed we go.” You shooed the silly little smirks right off their faces.

They all nodded quickly falling asleep without so much as a second thought. You were mighty jealous at the way they just did that. It took you far too long to fall asleep these days. Worry kept you up more than you liked to admit.

Thank whatever was out there for that worry that wouldn’t let you sleep as you heard the distant voices and branches breaking far off in the distance. Orcs. Had to be, they were so noisy. Your heartrate spiked as you heard them before you spotted them in the dark night. How in the hell had anything found you all the way out here?

“Up! Up!” You whisper shouted before shaking each of the Hobbits awake, “Abandon the camp we must go. Run” You grabbed for your sword and spare bow and arrow before ushering the small Hobbit’s further into the forest.

They ran ahead confused and disoriented having just fallen into a deep sleep but trusting you nonetheless. You knew you had made too much noise but did not quite realize how much the smaller ones were making as they ran.

You paused for a brief moment knowing your longer strides could catch up. You took a look behind you to see how in danger you truly were. The orcs hadn’t spotted your little group quite yet except one with keen eyes. Adrenaline shot through you as you saw the orcs arrow trained right at the back of Frodo’s head as he ran forward. He’d be dead instantly if the orc shot the arrow before you could stop it.

Panic shot through you as you ran ahead beside him pushing him to the ground with more force than you’d truly meant. You’d thought you were in the clear before the searing pain of being shot by an orc arrow throbbed through your shoulder blade sending you to the ground before you could think. Frodo rolled beside you which sprung Merry, Pippin and Sam into action as they pulled the two of you behind the thick trees of the dense forest. Fortunately for you it was mid-summer, and the forest was coated in dense foliage making it that much harder to find you and the Hobbits hiding in the trees.

Frodo looked more confused than upset before he saw the arrow protruding from your body. He’d understood instantly, “You have been hit miss Y/N!” Merry’s concerned voice only rose a few octaves as he saw the large arrow sticking right outside your shoulder. It hurt worse than it looked but you tried your best to bite back the tears as they were so unseasoned to such horrors in the world.

You looked down wincing at the arrow surely coated in poison. Thankfully you were only a few days out from Rivendell. You’d be fine… Strider not so much. Shuddering at the thought of the man who would be so mad you got hurt, you turned to the small Hobbit’s sitting in fear beside you.

Ignoring the arrow sticking out from your shoulder you sat up from the fall you took, “Listen, for there is not much time before they try and find us. Frodo and Sam run. Go find Strider. He will help end this swiftly.” You nodded watching them run quickly off into the forest. You’d sent Frodo off as he needed to be as far from the attacks as possible.

Wincing you turned yourself as best as you could towards Merry and Pippin, “Now, I need you two to be brave. You must snap this arrow as close to the wound as you can. I will fight these orcs off, but I cannot do that with this sticking out.” You huffed eyeing the rather large wooden arrow searing its mark in your shoulder blade.

Merry only gave you wide eyes as Pippin shook his head answering your request, “I cannot do that.”

“Not can I!” Merry agreed.

You looked behind you a little panicked seeing the orcs moving in closer. Far too close for your comfort. Lowering your voice, you leaned closer to them, “It does not matter any longer. Time is of the essence now. You must or we all die.” You glared at the two of them letting them both know quite how serious this was.

“Aye, turn away.” Merry stood with shaking hands grabbing at the arrow earning a hiss from your mouth. Pippin took his hands in his helping him get the leverage he needed to break the thick wood.

“All right.” You turned your head away clutching your hands into the earth trying to ground yourself. You had to fight back everything that was telling you to pass out as the arrow snapped in two under the hands of the much smaller Hobbits. A quiet whimper left your mouth as you tried your hardest to stay conscious. The orcs were close. You had to do something.

“Miss Y/N” Merry sounded concerned as he saw your face pale out and the orcs move closer, “Please be okay.”

You nodded blinking back the wave of nausea taking over your usually so agile self. This did not feel like your standard orc poison. You knew what that felt like and this was not it. This was moving faster than anything you’d been hit by them with, “I am fine mister Pippin.” You breathed trying to blink back the unshed tears. Pain only reminded you that you were alive. With another small groan you stood from the ground trying your hardest to fight the searing fire in your shoulder, “Stay quiet and hidden. It is best to attack them by surprise. Strider will be back soon. Let us try and wait this out as long as possible.” You whispered grabbing your sword from its sheath at your side.

You waited in silence as the first of the few crept into your field of vision. They must have been lost. No way a pack of orcs were this dumb. Or they were on a special mission. But you could wait no longer as they were likely to hear your breath or any sort of movement for he was a mere step away from you now.

Quickly, you sliced off its head without much of a sound. The loudness of the animals in the night covered up for its lifeless body hitting the ground giving you a second to recuperate and fight back the overwhelming feeling of pain now making its way down your arm.

When you killed the second and third the attention was finally on you. You were not able to be as graceful and let out a cry of pain as you had to use your bum arm to defend yourself. Darting behind a tree you narrowly avoided another arrow coming right for your head this time. But you didn’t have time to panic as the man you had been waiting for finally made his grand entrance. Just as you suspected it was over before it really begun. You were a fine Ranger. But Strider was an expert one.

Leaning back on the tree you let out the breath you were holding in. Never had you been so close to losing someone so quickly on a quest. Never had you been so close to being eliminated. You were usually so much better than this. Strider was getting in your head, and you were losing focus. A Ranger losing focus! That was unheard of. But Strider was your exception it seemed.

“You arrogant fool!” Strider yelled right at you as he came storming over to where you were leaning on the tree. He hadn’t seen the broken arrow in your shoulder nor the way you were holding your arm upright. He didn’t notice the sweat the coated your face or the distant gaze in your eyes. He was mad and he wanted to take it out on someone. That someone happened to be you.

You let out a cry in pain as he grabbed for the arm that you were holding gingerly. Even the smallest movement made it feel like your arm was getting ripped right apart. You had forgotten how painful poison was for it had been nearly fifty years since you’d been struck. The bastards made it as fast and as painful as possible. And whatever this stuff was seemed worse than before.

He moved his hand away from your arm after hearing your strangled cry. Pushing you back up against the tree, avoiding your injury, he felt the sticky liquid coating your outer garments. Blood. Of course, he knew what it was. He had only begun to panic as he saw the deliriousness in your gaze. You were hurt and badly at that. He was not used to this.

Frodo jumped in between the two of you, pushing Strider away just slightly, “She saved my life master Strider! Please have no anger towards her.”

His heart raced as he ordered the Hobbits to light a fire nodding at Frodo that he was done lashing out at you. He knew you needed a helping hand. Not one to hurt you while you were down. Gently, he pushed you down to the ground, “Sit down, nigol.” He’d all but ordered as he helped the Hobbit’s start a small fire. He couldn’t see your wound and you weren’t so forthcoming with information. That and he wanted to see it for himself.

A small smile came to your lips remembering the old nickname he’d given you, “Nigol… you have not called me that in quite some time Strider.”

Brushing your comment aside he asked you, “What happened?” As he sat down next to you waiting for the fire to glow so he could inspect your wound.

You turned towards him holding your eyebrows close together trying your best to bite back the pain, “Orcs happened is all. Caught a poisoned arrow to the shoulder.” Letting out a strangled sigh you sat further back against the tree.

“How did you get hit?” He clarified with more patience in his voice than you were used to. Maybe you looked worse than you felt because he never, ever cut you a break. And you appreciated him for that as you were still alive and usually avoidant of such injuries.

“Ugly bastard was aiming right at Frodo’s small little Hobbit head.” You frowned realizing if you hadn’t noticed Frodo would be sure as dead. You caught Strider’s smile at your crass language for he knew he would never grow tired of your fowl tongue. He loved it about you, “Had to push him out of the way and he nicked me instead.”

“I heard that miss Y/N!” Frodo yelled back at the two of you shaking his head at you, “Elves are not the only creatures with good hearing!” You only smiled as you watched them feed the small fire with more twigs and sticks. It surprised you that Strider ordered a fire for you’d just been ambushed. Who knew what else lurked beyond the trees that kept you hidden.

You let out a strangled laugh feeling the effects of the poison inch its way through your system. You watched as Strider looked at you with concern. It wasn’t often you were the one on the receiving end to such a look. You’d been under his wing for a better part of half a century. You’d gotten really excellent at not getting hurt. It must have been jarring to see you fighting the pain back with such a force. He’d never admit how much he had grown to love you. He didn’t like to see you in pain. Not a bit.

He sighed seeing the fleshy wound, “You must not be so careless next. I have trained you better than that.” He sighed inspecting the wound closely, “I must remove the arrow.” He spoke slowly feeling his heart drop at your startled expression.

You shook your head with a vengeance for you did not like that statement “We are but a few days from Rivendell. Surely they will have healers who can do that properly.”

He bit back the frown as he looked at your arm, “You will not have a few days if I do not get this out.” It wasn’t ominous but simply the truth.

“Is it not an Orc arrow?” You looked down knowing what his answer was going to be but trying to ignore it in your head was proving to be a challenge.

He gave you a solemn nod, “Aye, but it does not appear to be orc poison.”

All you could muster was a simple, “Oh.” Not thinking that was a possibility. You’d still concluded it was a different form of Orc poison. What could they possibly be using?

“It appears to be something much darker.” His frown only deepened as he was studying your wound. He had ripped your shirt where you had been hit to examine it closer. It was turning black far too fast to be the standard orc poison they’d become accustomed to.

You shuddered knowing the pain would be intolerable. You already seemed to be teetering on the precipice between the living world and the unconscious world, “Do your worst then.” You spoke quickly turning away and grabbing at a stick on the ground. When you tuned back he was just looking at you with such a sadness you couldn’t help but to ask, “What?”

He shook his head breaking the stare he had on you, “Nothing. Bite the stick. Don’t fight me. You know the rules.”. It had been a long time since you were at the mercy of his hands. You were but a young Ranger the last time you’d been caught in such a dreadful position. Back then you had medicine to at least dull the pain. This was going to be hell you thought as you placed the soggy stick in your mouth. Something to bite into, crucial to keep you from yelling too loud.

But you didn’t need to worry about that issue too much as darkness took over only a moment after he begun to tug on the broken arrow embedded in your shoulder. Of course, you didn’t catch the concern or the panic that overtook him when he saw you collapse into unconsciousness so easily. He didn’t waste a second longer after the arrow was removed from your shoulder to pick you up and carry you in his arms telling the Hobbits that they had to get a move on for your sake. With hushed complaints the group was off to Rivendell in the dead of night.

It must’ve been the pain overtaking the adrenaline that had subsided that made you fade out of unconsciousness. As your body stirred awake the sun rose in the sky before you. Strider only cradled you closer to his chest when he felt you squirming beneath him. A rather large sigh of relief escaped him as he looked down seeing you slowly blink your eyes back into reality.

“Did you enjoy your rest then?” Strider smiled most genuinely down to you for as much as he loved teasing you it sure made him happy to see you awake once more.

You cracked your own smile at his sarcastic words, “It was nice, thank you for inquiring.” You hummed squirming once more in his embrace. When he locked his hands around you it was only then that you realized he was carrying you like so and he had no intention of letting you out of his grasp.

He chucked seeing your startled expression. It was also new to him too and he really did not want to admit just how much he had enjoyed holding you close to him. It put his normally anxious heart at ease. He had long since found you beautiful. He knew he had loved you when he first heard you speak your mind to a superior all those years ago. For nobody, not a single man, had the courage to speak the way you did. And you had the skill to back it up. That was why he panicked seeing your injured silhouette in the forest. For if you were to go down he had no idea what he would do. You were so deeply embedded in his life he could not even begin to fathom a life without you in it.

He ran faster than he ever had before when Sam and Frodo found him foraging for plants. When they came in blabbering that you had been hit by an arrow he began sprinting in autopilot. It drove him mad feeling like it took longer to get to you. He was there in no longer than a minute to kill the ten or so orcs that were hunting you, the one he loved. He was a maniac when it came to protecting you. He hadn’t meant to yell so harshly at you but he was scared. Terrified of the thought of losing you, his person.

He noticed the pink beginning to return to your face and more relief flooded his overstressed system, “You are getting some color back.” He noticed as he held you closer, “That is a good sign. The poison must not be spreading.”

You let out a long yawn feeling the effects of it all starting to come over you once more, “That is good. It does not hurt as bad either. Just aches a bit.” Your eyes drooped as you tried to fight off the sleep that was overcoming you.

“Rest. Go to sleep, nigol.” He smiled down to you with nothing but love in those striking eyes. He’d been carrying you for hours already, what was another few anyway?

“Nigol.” You hummed remembering the times he called you that all the way back when you first had met him. He refused to tell you what it meant and by the time you finally met an elf you’d forgotten the nickname altogether, “What does it mean?” You inquired hoping he would indulge you this time as you were on the verge of unconsciousness.

He laughed, throwing his head back and all. You admired the way his dark hair framed his fair face as he looked back down at you. He was truly so handsome. It wasn’t fair he was placed in front of you like this and yet, was so unattainable, “I did not tell you fifty years ago, why would I tell you now?”

“I thought I would try.” You sighed, “Does it mean something bad? You only use it when I mess up.” You asked him once you concluded the worst. He often used that nickname early on when you two had been partnered up. It’s use seemed to fade as you had gotten more competent. Yet now when you had a bum shoulder rendering you useless he used it once more.

He shook his head quickly, “It is not bad. I can promise you that.” He eased your worried face quickly with his words.

“Well, I suppose I can accept that.” You didn’t want to push feeling oddly unlike yourself in his arms. Usually combative and wanting to pick a friendly fight you felt like doing anything but that. You just wanted to enjoy yourself in his embrace as you knew this moment would likely never occur again.

He knew you better than anybody else. He noticed how shy you were suddenly acting. Was it the nickname? Were you tired? Was the poison moving faster than he could? He looked down seeing you continue to fight sleep. Usually so powerful you looked helpless in his arms. His eyes softened as he realized how much trust you had to have in him to relax into him like so. You were always on guard, always ready. Frodo was alive because of that instinct. But now you were at his will and he felt more responsible for you than he had ever before.

“It’s Sindarin.” He admitted wanting to give you something more as you had given him exactly what he wanted, you.

Feeling your eyes getting heavier you replied with tiredness in your voice, “I had concluded that Strider. You did tell me you were raised by elves, remember?” Lazily, you smiled up to him laughing as best as your body would allow you.

“It is Sindarin for little one.” He finally admitted to you, “Or mouse.” He looked down at you nervously hoping you’d have a decent reaction to it.

“Mouse? Little one? I should be offended.” You grinned not taking offense in the slightest for you found it oddly adorable he had given you such a sweet nickname.

“Do not take offense.” He spoke quickly, “I did not mean it that way.”

“Relax, Strider.” You yawned once more feeling your head rest of his chest heavily. Sleep was coming on quick, “I am just teasing you. You are so easy to mess with.”

“Sleep now, little one.” He gave you another gentle squeeze letting you know he had you. It was alright. You could trust him as always. And trust him you did as you found yourself in a quick sleep right back in his arms.

“There you are.” Strider’s voice pulled you from the sleep that had overcome you on the road. When you blinked you were stunned to be laying in front of a fireplace in a rather grandeur room. You must have made it all the way to Rivendell which meant you had been out for days at this point.

“Are we in Rivendell?” You tried to sit up before his hands pushed you back down, gently, into the plush elven bed.

“You must lie still.” He ordered before answering your question, “Yes. You have been unconscious for nearly four days. Lord Elrond was unsure if you were to make it.” His eyes were laced with something you had hardly seen on the man in your many years of knowing him, fear. He looked scared, terrified. Yet almost relieved seeing you awake.

“Four days?” You swallowed back your surprise.

He gave you a quick not, “Almost, you even have Lord Elrond worried.”

You sighed, “I did not mean to do that.”

He moved closer, sitting on your bedside. Taking his chance he brushed your stray hair away from your face, “You always do that.”

You just looked up at him, “What?”

“It is just that you always care for others before yourself. As much as I love that about you. Think about yourself for once. Care for yourself. You are far too kind.” He spilled his thoughts to you for he was too tired. Too scared at the thought of losing you he was not going to hold back his tongue anymore for he knew he loved you. He wanted you. He couldn’t see you with anyone else but him.

You blinked back surprise at his outright confession. Sure, the two of you had danced around any feelings for quite literally years. But you would have none of that, as sweet as it was, “You did not say that when I slayed half an orc army with you.” You spoke with a hint of playfulness in your tone. It was your favorite game to play with the man.

He laughed a full hearty laugh. A laugh so pure, one you’d heard so rarely from the man. He only laughed like that when he was at peace. Happy. Comfortable and relaxed. A sight that you could really get used to.

“For that is true.” His eyes searched your for any sign of pain. Any sign that something was wrong. He could not quite believe you were finally awake and chatting with him like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t been knocked out cold for that long. When Lord Elrond had started to get nervous. Strider was not dumb. He grew up with Elves and knew their tells. When an elf grew worried he knew things were not boding well.

You felt yourself shrinking under his gaze, “What? Is there something on my face? Because that would be embarrassing. I have been asleep for three days and you let something stay on my face for that long?” You rambled not quite sure what you were doing. He was making you nervous. Strider never made you nervous. But when he gave you that earnest look you completely lost yourself to him. How fickle your brain was behaving.

He bit back a laugh sensing your nerves, “No. There is nothing marking your face. I was simply admiring you was all.”

Was he trying to kill you? Your cheeks were sure to be a bright rosy, red for his second confession was bolder than his first, “Admiring me?”

“Indeed. I would not be the man that I am had you not been by me all these years. I thought I was going to lose you. But now that you are back I get to admire you.” He spoke with that soft voice he only used ever so often. It was fascinating to get to know an entirely different side of the man you thought you knew through and through.

“I deserve no such thing.” You laughed trying to shake off the seriousness of his gaze down on you. He did not find your statement the least bit humorous.

“While I do not agree I also do not wish to argue. How do you feel?” He changed the subject even though he might have enjoyed watching you squirm. Placing a cool hand on your forehead, he did not miss the small jump you had in response to his contact. Touches he had given you so often before had changed. Things had shifted between the two of you and for the first time in a long time he was excited. He had a purpose. His purpose.

You gulped back your argument and nodded in agreement, “I feel fine, will you let me sit up now or must I stare up all afternoon?” You quipped hoping your quick mouth would let him know just how fine you really felt.

Shaking his head, he held out a hand for your to take, “You may sit up, but take it slow.”

“I was shot by an arrow Strider. I did not get my legs cut off.” You took his hand letting him pull you up to sit next to him.

He rolled his eyes yet still held admiration in them, “That mouth will get you in trouble one day.” His eyes traced your face as you too just looked at him. It didn’t feel quite real that he could have admired you just as you him. Had you been blind?

You hummed in agreement not being able to take your eyes off his, “Not if you are there to protect me.”

It was he who broke the staring game going on between the two of you as he collected his thoughts, “Indeed, little one. There is nothing truer than that statement.” Gaining some courage, he took your hands in his giving them a gentle squeeze, “Please never scare me like that again for I cannot bear it.”

“I will try my hardest, as long as you promise to do the same.” You nodded towards him feeling bashful in front of the man you’d grown to love. The man you had only hoped to love you as he did. The man you never could have imagined felt the same. Yet here you were.

Giving your hands a reassuring squeeze, he simply nodded to you, “I promise, little one. I promise with my whole heart.”

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insipid-drivel · 5 months

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Warhorses: Which horses are actually good candidates, anyway?

This post is in honor of @warrioreowynofrohan, who asked the question in the comments under my guide, "Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap". Their question, "Given what you said about too much weight breaking a horse’s spine, how did that work with knights in plate armour?" is one I'm going to try to answer here, since the answer can be very nuanced depending on where and when you're talking about.

Also, while I was a stable hand for years as well as a rider, I never had the opportunity to directly learn more ancient styles of tacking, horse training, and combat, so I don't have any direct experience to draw from with regard to horses used for military purposes. I'm still gonna do my best here with what I know, and research what I don't.

As I've covered in the past, large horses (draft horses) make less-than-ideal warhorses, and so do carriage horses like the elegant and dramatic Friesians.

Let's begin by addressing this from the perspective of creative writing. For you writers and content creators out there, an essential part to the continuity of any historically-themed work you do involving horses will be depicting breeds of horses that didn't exist before a certain time in history. I'm going to approach this question from the stance of, "Medieval-type era warhorses". Horses were used in warfare as late was World War II, but actual horses you ride into battle with knights and archers and bannermen? We actually have to drop the subject of specific modern breeds altogether aside from using them for comparisons.

When discussing warhorses, various cultures have approached them differently. Some cultures will value a specific type of horse above all others, such as the Mongolian Steppe Horse or the American Mustang. Other cultures, which may be from biomes and territories where multiple types of horses are needed for different forms of warfare and tactics, value whichever horses can get their jobs done without their riders getting killed.

Carrying vs. Pulling:

Horses have been used in warfare since as far back as 4000 BC, but their first applications were more as chariot horses. Humans have been riding and working with horses since before we even had stirrups to more easily ride them with! As archaeologists and anthropologists make more discoveries, the more we learn that we humans have been working closely with horses since before we had specialized tools to ride them with. The very first warhorses pulled chariots or carts, which is much easier for a horse's anatomy to handle compared to carrying a heavy weight like an armored rider on their backs, which puts stress directly on their spines where they have very little supporting muscle for supporting a lot of heavy downward weight.

Warhorse Size Categories:

Really, any breed of horse can apply to a niche in warfare if it's needed enough. Even very small, delicate horses have had their place in the history of human combat! Before I continue, it's important to know that there's a unique unit of measuring a horse's height. Rather than measuring a horse's height in centimeters or inches, they're measured in units called "hands". A single "hand" = ~4 inches/10.16cm, and a horse's height is measured based upon the distance between the bottom of their hoof to the tallest part of their shoulders, just at the base of the back of their necks. We don't actually include neck length/head height in a horse's measurements with traditional measuring.

Another rule of thumb: The average horse cannot safely carry anything heavier than about 30% of their total body weight. This is a serious factor to take into mind when deciding on a type of or breed of horse for a mounted warrior of any kind: You need to factor in the OC's starting body weight, and then add on the weight of armor, weapons, and any armor the horse itself may wear along with the weight of its tack.

Light-Weight Horses:

A few examples of lightweight horse breeds whose ancestors have historically been used in combat are Arabians, Barber Horses, and the magnificent Akhal-Teke. Lightweight and delicately-boned horses like those are best applied for military maneuvers that require precision, speed, and endurance, and the rider themselves should specialize in some form of combat or reconnaissance that doesn't require them to wear heavy metal or laminated armors. Archers are good candidates for riding smaller horses, or lightly-armored swordsmen like an Ottoman Janissary.

Central-Asian and North African horses also benefit from having a higher tolerance for hot climates. They can absolutely suffer from heatstroke and cardiac arrest from being forced to run and work in extreme temperatures and should always be provided with the same protective measures in a heatwave as any other horse, but they have a little bit of an edge over horses descended from freezing and temperate climates.

Medium-Weight Horses:

Medium-weight horses started showing up in the archaeological record around about the Iron Age, where chariot warfare was becoming an increasingly utilized form of mobile combat, and people needed bigger, stronger horses capable of pulling heavier loads - such as a chariot with two passengers rather than just one. As cultures began to develop heavier-duty armors made of metals and laminated materials, it also became important to breed horses that were tall and stocky (muscular and with relatively short spines compared to their height), and therefore more capable of carrying riders in increasingly heavy armor. Medium-weight horses were also essential at the dawn of the gunpowder age when the cannon came into use in siege warfare for pulling the heavy, iron cannons into position.

Medium-weight horses are really where we see the beginnings of knights and other warrior classes on horseback come into the forefront of warfare. When you have a horse that's big and strong enough to carry heavier armor and heavier weapons along with a rider wielding them, you have a much deadlier force at your disposal. Strikes from a sword or spear from the back of a galloping horse basically results in a sword capable of cutting through enemy soldiers like a hot knife through butter.

Important Note: Traditionally, cavalrymen wield blunt swords when attacking from a charging horse's back. When a horse is charging at full speed, the sharpness of a blade becomes less important than the blade's ability to stay in one piece when it impacts hard armor and bone. A blunted edge basically turns a cavalryman's sword into a thin club that's better at holding up against smashing through multiple layers of armor and bone compared to a thinner, more delicate sharpened edge that can shatter from a high-speed impact.

Heavy-Weight Horses:

The direct ancestors of modern draft horses, such as the Shire Horse, only began to appear around about the beginning of the European Medieval Era, and were far and away not even close to the enormous sizes of the draft horses we have today. Any horse counts as a "Heavy-weight" classed horse if its weight exceeds 1500lbs/680kgs.

Heavy-weight horses were really more bred for pulling enormous weights rather than carrying knights. While yeah, there is some evidence that suggests that heavy-weight horses were used by heavily-armored knights, historians argue a lot about whether it was a rule or an exception (such as with Henry VIII, who continued to ride well after he had begun to weigh more than 350lbs/158kgs, and even went to war in France in his final years on horseback). Generally speaking, medium-weight horses tend to be the right balance of agile and strong for carrying someone that's going to actively be fighting. Heavy-weight horses were bred to be a lot more tolerant to the chaos and frightening stimulation of the sounds of battle, but medium-weighted horses generally tended to be more suited to moving efficiently through dense packs of soldiers and weaving around other horses.

Ponies:

While actually being the smallest class of warhorse, ponies were essential when it came to carrying cargo and working as pack-horses. In certain forms of terrain, such as mountains, large horses pulling big carts full of supplies or soldiers could often be extremely impractical. In situations where an army needed to move on foot and form a narrow line in order to travel, ponies were able to traverse much narrower and rougher terrain while carrying smaller loads to their destination, when heavier horses would struggle more under their own weight and dexterity.

Europe-Specific Terminologies:

If you're a writer reading this and writing a piece set in the European Medieval age, there are specific terms used for the different classes I listed of warhorses above that I'm gonna list:

Destriers: The Destrier was a universal term for the iconic knight-carrying, jousting horse. They were also sometimes referred to as "Great Horses" due to their reputations in combat settings. Destriers could have just about any appearance, but were rarely taller than 15.2 hands, or 62inches/157cm. They were capable of carrying heavily-armored knights (although knights in full plate mail rarely rode into battle and stayed on the horse the entire time - they tended to specialize at grouping up and killing a lot of footsoldiers swarming them at once and preventing breaks in defenses from being overwhelmed by an oncoming army; in the case of Edward the Black Prince, we have substantial evidence in the form of his surviving brigandine that a mounted soldier or knight was more likely to wear chainmail and brigandine with a tabard on their body with their arms, feet, and heads the most heavily armored in plate when they intended to fight on horseback, making them a little lighter and more maneuverable, but I may be waaay off base there because I'm thinking of more of Italian soldiers who used full plate and how they applied it in battle more than any other example) and wearing armor themselves.

Interestingly, the sex of a destrier was often chosen strategically. Stallions (horses that haven't been neutered) are more aggressive, and could both act as combatants on their own if their knight was dismounted or killed, but could give away an army's location if they were attempting to move stealthily. Stallions whinny and shriek a lot when they're horny or arguing with each other, which is most of the time.

Mares were often chosen by Muslim armies for being much less vocal, and therefore much more capable of stealth. Geldings (neutered males) were the preferred mounts of the Teutonic Knights, a Catholic military group, since they couldn't be stolen and used to breed more horses for the enemy army.

Coursers:

Coursers were the most common Medieval European warhorse. It's important to remember that in Medieval Europe, most armies were almost entirely comprised of common men - serfs subject to the will of their landlords, not far removed from slaves in many ways - who couldn't afford the highly-prized and expensive Destriers. Coursers were usually a bit lighter than Destriers, but were still strong enough to carry someone wearing armor. Coursers were also a little more utilitarian, because they were also sometimes used in hunting as well as warfare, so they had a valuable use outside of warfare that the owner could benefit from.

Rouncey:

A rouncey was an all-purpose horse that could be used for leisure and travel-riding as well as be trained for war. They were a lot more likely to be found on the farm of a serf or independent farmer of some kind, as they could fill a lot of different roles depending on what they were needed for. Their sizes weren't really important as much as their ability to get the job done.

It's also critical to remember that, when talking about warhorses, we're usually talking about eras long past. In general, thanks to resource availability and incredible advances in medicine, modern humans are significantly taller, and therefore heavier, than people from the European Medieval era and prior. While fatness was valued in many cultures for its suggestion of wealth, most working-class and serf-class people worked intensely physically-demanding daily lives just to maintain their own homes. They were a few inches shorter on average than we are today, had greater fluctuations in body fat distribution depending on how harsh or bountiful the harvest season had been and the season in which a war was taking place (the average person's weight would swing by 30lbs or more on average every year prior to the industrial era), and cavalry were usually chosen based upon skill in the saddle as well as physical size when considering the application of medium or heavy armor being placed on the horse's back and body.

#long post #horses #horseback riding #warhorses #writing #writing resources

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sweatyracoon · 12 days

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Put on a Show

Summary: Stripper!Seungmin trope.

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, oral(f), pet names(pup/puppy), softdom!Seungmin, inexperienced reader!, strippers, grinding, mxm(if your squint), sexiness

Your friends birthday was today, and instead of being a normal birthday girl, she insisted on taking you and all of her friends on a surprise trip. And the shocker was, only she knew the location.

You weren’t a very open person. You were an extreme introvert, so going out with seven other girls wasn’t your cup of tea. However, you couldn’t say no to Janice. She had always been there for you, and you wanted to do the same. She told you to wear something sexy, and the only thing you had was an oversized sweater that reached past your thighs.

When Janice came to pick you up, she saw your outfit.

“Girl… what are you wearing?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing what was behind those words.

“I’m a nerdy book girl. What makes you think I own anything sexy?”

“Take off your jeans. The sweater and a thong will do,”

Now, here you were, at a strip club, wearing an oversized sweater with panties. You walked at the end of the group, out of your element. Following them to a table, you sat, feeling awkward while they all talked adamantly about Bree’s ex. Wait. Which one is Bree?

You hadn’t been following the conversation, and Janice saw how nervous you were. She sat next to you, grabbing your hand.

“Don’t worry, I don’t like Bree, either,” she joked, making you scoff playfully at her. She always knew how to make you feel better, even if it was for a short while.

“The shows starting!” You heard one of the girls whisper as the lights dimmed slightly, the spotlight directed towards the two stages in front of you.

Janice chose a table directly in between the two stages, giving them a clear view of both worlds.

“Don’t be shy, y/n. They are paid to show off their bodies. It’s consensual,” she explained like you didn’t already know.

You still felt yourself shift uneasily. This wasn’t your type of scene, so you naturally wanted to turn away, even if there was no one on the stage yet.

The into to a slow song started, the color of the lights shifting to the darker side as multiple men appeared from behind the curtains. Most of them were barely wearing anything, half naked from the start. Your face immediately cringed, your eyes darting from each man to the ceiling and back, trying to look at each one. They were all different, but all the same at the same time. None of them looked to be around your age, which made you feel queasy.

Despite your internal objections, the girls at your table were all basically barking and foaming at the mouth, throwing bills at them when they got close. Your eye caught something in your peripheral, making you turn. And when you saw him, your heart dropped.

A man…no, a boy, walked down the aisle to the main stage, fully clothed. Perhaps bit too much for some of the woman’s taste, but for you, he was pure eye candy.

He was wearing black skinny jeans with tears at the knees, and a black tank top with a mess sleeve layered on top, tucked in and all held together with a thin leather belt. His neck was laced with jewelry, and his hair was unkempt, shaggy and pointing in every direction. His face pale but soft, his lips plush and his eyes hard, but beautiful.

He was so tall, but his walk was graceful. He looked reserved and dissatisfied as he looked around his current audience. It was almost like he was tired of being there, but it was all a facade. It was apart of the themed charm of the day.

Your attention was solely focused on this boy, and Janice noticed it too. You watched as he finally stopped, almost directly in front of you, and starts dancing to the song that sped up. His body rolled smoothly, making your mind wander to places it had never been before, making you squirm, now for another reason.

His hands caressed his body, groping himself in all the right places, earning a satisfying reaction from his audience. His hips thrusted at the perfect time with the song, his knees twisting slightly, making your breath hitch. The most enjoyable thing for you, though, would had to have been his facial expressions.

His straight mouth at the beginning was now open, his jaw opened as he was breathing hard. From what, you didn’t know. All you knew though, was that it was so hot. His hard eyes were now softened slightly as he looks around the room, but also focused on his movements. His messy hair now recked.

You noticed someone slightly younger than him come towards him, someone you didn’t notice before. They seemed to be the youngest employees here, you thought.

The boy had slanted eyes, and from where you were sitting, it almost looked like they were closed. You had to admit that he was also very attractive.

When the younger boy reached the stripper you had been watching, they met each other’s eyes before nodding, the younger boy stepping in front of the older, the song suddenly changing. The older grabbed the younger waist, grinding into his ass while they both made a blissed out expression. His head lolled back as the younger boy grinned, grinding harder into him before the older reached lower than his waist, groping his-

Woah.

You didn’t realize your jaw was open until you felt a Hand underneath your chin. Janice was smirking at you when you caught her gaze. You didn’t want to look away from the boys, but you did. Your body couldn’t handle anymore.

“Still regret coming with me?” She teased, making your red face hotter. “I know it’s my birthday and all, but I think my gift will be buying you a one on one room with him. What do you think?” She whispered to you, seeing your eyes widen comically.

“What? No! I’m not doing that. I’m the shy nerd book girl, remember? Besides, I’m not going to take your gift money for something like that,”

Next thing you knew, you were sitting in a private room waiting for the selected stripper. Your friend was choosing between the two boys you were so intently watching. You were hoping she would pick the mesh topped boy, but you also thought the fox-looking boy was attractive. Still, you were scared because you had no experience in literally anything. Not even kissing.

You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard the sound of the door knob twisting. You held your breath as you waiting to see the identity of the person coming from behind it, not releasing it when you saw your choice.

“Hey there, cutie,” he said, and you nearly melted from his angelic voice. It was something you wanted to listen to for the rest of the night, and that might just be what happens if you don’t make a fool of yourself.

“Hi,” your voice came out strained and nervous, making you mentally scold yourself.

“You okay?” He asks with a smirk, walking to where you’re sitting. “You look nervous.”

You grin stupidly at the comment, confirming his accusation. “Sorry, I’m not really…supposed to be here,” you said, looking anywhere but him. But all you wanted was to look at him. But his eyes…they observed every bit of you, making you feel vulnerable.

“What do you mean, pup?” He bends down to your level, his height difference making you feel something pool in your stomach.

“I’m supposed to be reading a book in my bed. Actually, I’d be asleep by now, if it weren’t for-“ before you could finish, his hand rested on your thigh, making you flush.

“A birthday? Yeah, the birthday girl came up to me and told me a whole bunch of things…specifically about you, pup,” He smiled, rubbing circles into the plush of your legs.

Every time he used that pet name, you felt a wetness between your thighs, sticking your panties to your core. “Oh dear god! What things?” Now you were alert and jerked slightly, making him rub circles counterclockwise.

“Nothing important. Just that this was your first time in a place like this. She thought you weren’t into it, but then she saw you looking at me. I was so honored that a pretty girl like you was watching me instead of the others,” his head tilted, leaning in slightly as he continued. “So she asked if I would be willing to give you a private show.”

By now you were unable to speak, shocked and horny as hell.

“So, I’ll start this slow. Since it’s your first time,” he squeezed your thigh twice before standing up, his figure looming over you. You pushed your legs together, hoping to quell the heat that had formed in between them.

“What do you want, pup?” He whispered, staring into your wide eyes, his whole demeanor changing so suddenly it gave you whiplash. Away was the sweet puppy look, now a hungry boy willing to please you any way you wanted.

“I…what’s your name?” You stutter, looking down after realizing he was probably expecting you to say something sexy. You scoffed at yourself before feeling him pull your gaze to his by your chin.

“My stage name is Puppym…but my name is Seungmin,” he answered, not letting you go. “And you?”

“Y/n,” you breathed, unable to escape from him any longer.

“What a beautiful name. I’ll take this slow, y/n. Let me know if you want me to stop,” He said, moving his hands to his belt, but before taking them off, he asked, “Can I touch you?” He grinned after seeings you nod immediately.

He threw his belt in the corner after taking it off, letting his pants drift down slightly. No skin showed, but the promise of it was exciting enough for you. You watched as he pushed his hands through his hair before coming to where you were sitting, straddling your lap with his legs. His hips started grinding without actually even touching you. All you could was watch as he danced suggestively, all intention pointed at you.

You felt how hot you were inside as your mind started thinking about what was underneath his sexy clothing, but was quickly redirected when he grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest.

You gasped, making him smirk, his legs brushing against yours. He slowly drifted your hand downwards. You could feel the phantom of muscles underneath the double layer, making you shiver, trying your best to imagine muscles on his petite figure. Finally, your hand rested on his waist, where he left it, moving his hand from yours.

“You okay, pup?” He teased, seeing you practically drooling over his minimal movements. He liked seeing how worked up you were. Such an innocent girl, him being the one to show her his world.

You let out a little, “mhm,” making him laugh. He stopped, moving back a little.

“Wanna see more?” He asked, grabbing at the hem of his mesh sleeves. You nodded, your eyes starting to gloss over. “Speak up, puppy.”

“Y-yes please, Minnie,” You said, surprising him. No one had ever called him that, but he loved the way it sounded coming from your lips. He watched as your hands grabbed at the sweater on your legs. It helped him see further up it.

He nodded, pulling it off in one quick motion. You pr breath hitches when you see his arms, the muscle lining his forearms made your mouth water. His collar bones protruded from his taught skin, the jewelry shimmering in the dim lighting of the private room. His tight tank top outlined his torso perfectly, letting you see the shadow of his abs that reached all the way down below his jeans. You swallowed.

He came back towards your again, now crouching down to sit on his knees in front of you. He placed his hands on your calves respectively, brushing against them so softly. A ghosts touch.

He , painfully slow, brought them up to your knees before grasping them from behind, pulling them apart quickly making you gasp.

He loved how you were reacting to him. Even though he wanted to fuck you into this cushion, it was against the rules to go that far. He knew that he needed to get your number after this so he could see you again. He had never been so into a private show as much as he was with this one. Never been attracted to one of his ‘fans’. He wanted you so bad. But he couldn’t go that far. But he would please you as much as he could before you had to leave.

His face leaned in closer to your core, stopping only to tease you with pepper kisses along the inside of your thighs. He even sucked a few marks into them before his fingers reached the end of the sweater, tugging at it in a silent question. lol you could do was nod, your breathing heavy and hot, cute whimpers leaving every once and a while.

He tapped your hip, making you lift them so he could push your sweater up. He squeezed your thighs twice, pushing them apart to view your pussy through your underwear. He moaned at the sight, your soggy cloth attached to you. He pressed a hard kiss to your covered folds, making your head fall back.

“Shh, puppy. Gotta keep quiet,” he said, placing another kiss against you. You squirmed, whimpering at his words.

He brought his fingers to feel the fabric, pushing them aside for a better view. He groaned, seeing the glistening slick that was spread against your folds. Licking a line up your pussy, your thighs instinctively came together, but he didn’t allow them to. He needed space if he wanted to please you properly, no matter how bad he wanted you to suffocate him with your cunt.

He sucked on your clit as he pushed a finger into you, making you moan. He tapped your leg with his other hand in warning, and you bit into your hand as he continued. He pumped into you a bit longer before adding another finger, slowly picking up his pace. Then, he curled them, hitting that spot within you that made you clench around him. Your sounds and his wet lapping was filling his senses, making his groan again. The vibrations to your clit are what made you snap, your orgasm rushing over you suddenly, your stomach clenching as you released, Seungmin there, ready to devour your essence.

After he pulled away, what you saw is something you would never forget. His beautiful face covered with your juices, a playful smile displayed, and blown irises in his cute eyes. “You okay?” He asked, rubbing circles into your thighs again.

“Yeah…” you answered, still trying to breathe properly again. You were hickory to find your bearings, lowering your sweater while Seungmin wiped his face clean. “Do you do that often?”

He looked back at you in surprise before answering.

“No. That was my first time eating someone out,” he said, making your heart stop. He continued. “We aren’t supposed to do that with customers. Just a dance and then leave, but…I don’t know. You’re adorable, and…Oh! Speaking of which, can I get your number?”

You just sat there for a moment, probably looking like an idiot, but your mind wasn’t working. You couldn’t even see the doubt that crept onto Seungmin features. Before you could take to long, however, you pulled out your phone suddenly, handing it to Seungmin.

“Give me yours, and I’ll message you? I know you’re working right now and everything, but once you get off, you’ll see my text,” You said with a smile, excited.

He did what you asked, dressing himself again before standing in front of your small frame. “I’m glad you came tonight,” He grinned, giving you a quick peck on the lips, grinning at your dumbfounded expression. “You’re so cute, y/n,” was the last thing he said before leaving.

When you returned to your friend, she asked you how it went.

“I’m so glad I came tonight,”

111 notes · View notes

tinyundercover · 4 months

Text

pepper & felix

part fifteen

teehee

MASTERPOST word count: 3.2k

Panic coursed through Basil’s body, overwhelmingly cold. She gasped for breath, inching back into the redhead’s curled fingers, heart pounding against her chest.

“What on earth….” The female human leaned closer, drawing a startled noise from Basil. The human’s dark eyes shifted from curiosity to concern. “What is this? What are you?”

“Bree, holy shit,” the redhead whispered suddenly, hand twitching. “Tiny people. Alice and Felix were talking about tiny people.”

“Oh.” The girl gasped. “Oh.”

At those words, Basil straightened up, gaze dancing. Her hook was clutched within her hands, useless. In a desperate attempt for survival, could she toss herself off of this human’s hand and land on the couch?

She yelped in surprise when the redhead moved to sit down on the couch, hitting her with a wave of vertigo. Next to him, the female human sat down as well, tilting her head as she observed Basil’s demeanor.

“She looks scared,” she said thoughtfully, eyebrows pinching together. Addressing Basil directly, she asked gently, “Can you talk? Do you speak English?”

Under the gaze of two humans, one of which had her in a palm, Basil wasn’t sure that she’d be able to get a word out at all. Trembling, her gaze flickered, and she nodded.

Felix had been kind. Maybe these two humans would be kind as well.

At Basil’s confirmation, the two humans straightened up, murmuring in surprise. The boy didn’t miss a beat to ask, “What are you?”

The room was beginning to sway from Basil’s onslaught of terror, and feeling quite numb, she forced herself to speak. “Can you… can you put— me down?”

Both humans had to lean in to hear her, sending panic spiraling through Basil’s core, but to her immense relief, they didn’t seem angry at her request. Appearing confused, and a bit sheepish, the redhead leaned forward and lowered his hand to the coffee table.

Basil had never been more relieved. Heart thudding, she all but lunged off of his hand, stumbling over the surface of the table for much longer than necessary. Hugging herself, she kept her gaze low. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at the humans just yet, terrified to even imagine what they might look like from this lower vantage point.

“There, that’s better.” The feminine voice above was gentle, so unlike Alice’s. Basil’s fear slowly began to shift to confusion, struggling to make sense of the situation. “Are you okay?”

Basil’s heart continued to pound. She slowly lifted her gaze, wincing at the uncomfortable sight of two humans peering down at her, elbows on their knees. Fixing her gaze on the female human, she forced out, “I’m— okay.”

She was okay. She was on the brink of tears, terrified out of her mind, but she supposed that she really was unharmed in the presence of two enormous humans.

The humans shared a glance, hesitating, urgency flickering behind their eyes. After struggling with her words for a moment, the female human addressed Basil again, voice unimaginably soft. “We’re not gonna hurt you,” she assured. “My name is Breanna. This is Owen. If you don’t mind me asking, ah— what are you?”

“Are you some kind of fairy or something?” The redhead added, squinting.

Basil took a deep breath. She had known these questions would be coming, but that hadn’t prepared her to answer. Her stomach hurt, her heart was threatening to pound out of her chest, and all she wanted to do was get into the walls and hide forever.

She had a feeling that she wouldn’t be able to leave that easy, however. Alice sure didn’t want the borrowers leaving before they answered her questions properly, and even then she had chosen to trap them in a jar.

“I– I’m not trying to bother anyone,” Basil stammered, mind racing as she tried to assemble a good enough answer without revealing too much about her species. “I’m not a human, and– and I’m not a fairy, either, I– I– I just keep to myself. That’s it.”

Owen’s eyebrows raised, while Breanna tilted her head thoughtfully, brown gaze searching. Basil shuffled her feet.

“A tiny person,” Breanna murmured, mainly to herself and Owen. Her face sharpened, curious. “Do you, ah– do you know a Felix or Alice, by any chance?”

“I…” Basil’s voice wobbled. “I do.”

How much should she tell them? How much did they already know about her?

Breanna and Owen both sucked in a breath, startled. They turned to each other, seeming to communicate without speaking, breaths stuttering as they tried to find words. Basil couldn’t suppress the wave of guilt that washed over her, as if it was her fault that their friends had kept a secret from them.

They don’t just deserve to know about borrowers, just because Felix is their friend, Basil reminded herself. Alice sure didn’t.

“What’s your name?” Owen asked, brow furrowed.

She hesitated, wobbling on her feet, then finally found it within herself to respond, “Basil.”

“Basil,” Owen echoed. The sound of her own name in a human’s mouth made her twitch uneasily. “How do you know Alice and Felix?”

Basil’s increased stress at the continued interrogation must have shown on her face, because before she could answer, Breanna placed a large hand on the coffee table. It was far too close to Basil, and Basil jerked away with a gasp before she processed that it was supposed to be a comforting gesture. Features softening, Breanna spoke. “It’s okay. I know this must be a lot for you. Just take a deep breath.”

A strange feeling settled into Basil’s chest as she glanced between them. She did as she was told, drawing in a breath, the pounding of her heart beginning to subside.

“I’m gonna text Felix and Alice, alright?” Breanna continued, pulling out her phone. “Just–”

“No!”

Basil’s heartbeat skyrocketed all over again, watching as the humans jerked in surprise. Breanna’s hand froze, halfway drawing her phone from her pocket. “What?”

“Don’t tell Alice about me,” Basil said in a rush, eyes wide, “just Felix. Tell Felix.”

The humans both paused, contemplative. A nervous expression flitted over Breanna’s face, glancing at Owen, whose features had sharpened. They both seemed afraid to respond, their own imaginations for what could have occurred with Alice running wild.

“You know that Felix lives here, right?” Owen suggested finally. “Would it make you feel better if we all go visit him?”

Truthfully, Basil would feel better if she went to visit Pepper, but she wasn’t going to tell these humans that her brother lived in Felix’s apartment, too. She wanted to beg to be left alone so that she could make her way to Pepper and Felix’s apartment herself, but it would take hours for her, while it would only take less than a minute for these humans to walk down the hall there.

Oh, god. I can’t believe I’m really doing this.

“Yeah.” Basil nodded weakly. Even if she couldn’t get to Pepper right away, Felix would be sure to help her, somehow, right?

Of course, going to Felix’s meant that she would have to put herself in one of these humans’ hands.

At Basil’s confirmation, Owen nodded, reaching towards her. “Alright, then–”

The enormous hand reaching towards her made Basil’s instincts go haywire, and with a panicked noise she stumbled back. “Wait. Wait.”

Shockingly enough, Owen actually paused, his long fingers hovering above the surface of the table. Basil was frozen, staring at the hand.

When she glanced up at Owen and Breanna, they were frowning, concern etched into their features.

“I’m just picking you up so we can go to Felix’s,” Owen explained, uncertain. His hand twitched.

The breath finally reentered Basil’s body, and she shuddered, bringing a hand to her chest. “Just— just be careful,” she pleaded, a flush crossing her face. “This is a lot for me.” She gestured widely to emphasize her point, feeling slightly self-conscious.

Immediately, the two enormous gazes flickered over her small, shaky form, taking in just how delicate she was. Realization dawned on Owen’s face, and before Basil knew it, his hand had moved next to her, palm facing up, waiting patiently.

“Is this better?” His voice softened. Basil could have cried.

It wasn’t the first time she had willingly stepped into a human’s hand, and although this hand was a bit more intimidating than Felix’s, Basil was proud of herself for not faltering. Her boots wobbled on the thick skin of Owen’s palm.

“Okay,” she confirmed, heart racing. “Let’s go.”

–

Felix had not been prepared to open his front door to the sight of Basil perched in Owen’s palm.

His hand nearly slipped on the doorknob, jerking back in surprise. He couldn’t stop the wave of panic that coursed through him, suddenly terrified that more of his friends had decided to start kidnapping borrowers against their will, and he instinctively reached a hand forward. “Woah, woah– what’s happening?”

Owen’s brow was furrowed, his gaze focused down on Basil, as if he was trying incredibly hard to keep his hand steady. Breanna hovered nearby, nervous gaze fluttering between the borrower and Felix.

“Hey,” Breanna said awkwardly. “Can we come in?”

Felix’s terror for Basil gradually faded over the next few minutes, as his friends explained what had happened. By some miracle, they seemed to have stumbled upon Basil by accident, and had brought her to Felix’s with the inkling that he might be able to help. Felix didn’t fully relax until Basil was on the kitchen counter, reluctantly expressing her agreement.

Despite her anxious fidgeting and choppy breaths, Basil seemed relatively unhurt. Felix was immensely thankful that Owen and Breanna had been aware of their strength compared to the borrower, something Felix had come to understand weeks ago. Once the strange introductions between them were complete, Breanna and Owen immediately began to interrogate Felix, but he ignored them, focusing back on Basil.

The female borrower was lingering on the counter, watching them, shifting on her feet. The shaky, high-strung movements reminded Felix a bit too much of how Pepper had acted this morning. It seemed that both of them needed a break from humans.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Felix told her gently, causing her to snap her gaze up. “Maybe you should rest.”

His own words brought an uncomfortable feeling into his chest. He prayed Basil understood that he wasn’t trying to be demeaning or patronizing, or that he felt he needed to give her permission to do things; he truly just wanted her to feel better.

Gratefully, Basil only sent him a small smile, shoulders slumping in relief. She bid an awkward farewell to the humans before vanishing behind the toaster with a little too much gusto, no doubt rushing to Pepper’s place to fill him in.

“Okay– what the hell,” Owen finally demanded, dragging a hand through his red hair. Now that the humans were alone, he and Breanna seemed much more comfortable to straighten up and raise their voices. Felix appreciated their subtle efforts to appear non-threatening to Basil. “What the actual hell?”

“She lives here? She lives in the walls?” Breanna asked, aghast.

“Are there more tiny people?”

“This is what you and Alice were fighting about last night, isn’t it?”

Felix threw his hands up, quietly cutting their questions off. Both of his friends had moved closer, shock stricken over their features, needy for answers. He couldn’t really blame them.

“Okay, okay.” He was exhausted, hungover, and thoroughly overwhelmed. With a heavy breath he lowered his hands, steering his friends towards his couch. “It’s a lot to explain.”

–

Pepper wouldn’t exactly say that he had a good day.

He had started off his day in what he thought to be the worst way possible: out in the open, trapped under a human’s hand. It had taken a few seconds for him to register that it was only Felix, and that he wasn’t in danger, but the initial terror had been difficult to shake.

His morning had been spent helping Felix treat his hangover. There wasn’t much the borrower could actually do for him on his own, but he hoped that his moral support had been enough to lift Felix’s spirits. All the while he had been wracked with memories of being grabbed into a clumsy, drunk hand; the same hand he had been finding comfort and safety in recently.

Throughout the course of the afternoon he had been given bad news and good news; the bad news was that Breanna and Owen now knew about them… the good news, on the other hand, was that Breanna and Owen were surprisingly accepting of the strange little people that lived in Felix’s walls. They had even promised wholeheartedly to keep them a secret, even if they seemed to be a little perplexed by the whole situation.

Now, late in the evening, Pepper sunk into his hammock, Basil curled up beside him, both of them exhausted by the events of the day. The room was dimly lit and incredibly quiet.

“I almost forgot,” Pepper suddenly mumbled into the silence. “I told Felix I’d talk to him.”

Basil’s eyes were closed, hugging a pillow, but she hummed to indicate that she was awake and listening. “Use your soulmate link, then,” she yawned.

Pepper stared at the ceiling. A few months ago, he had planted a glow-in-the-dark star above his hammock, but it was starting to peel off. Chewing his lip, he responded, “No, I need to talk to him in person, I think.”

“Hm… why?”

Heart twisting, Pepper sat up. “I… I slept with him last night.”

Immediately, Basil shot up, blinking rapidly at him. As she sputtered in shock, Pepper flushed scarlet.

“No, no– not like that,” he explained haphazardly, blushing harder as Basil burst into laughter. He shoved her impatiently. “I just fell asleep on his bed. That’s it.”

He neglected some of the major details, such as the fact that Felix had been incredibly drunk. The specifics of the story could wait.

Basil raised her eyebrows, amusement still dancing behind her eyes. “So, what, you took a nap with your boyfriend and now you’re embarrassed?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Pepper said hotly, turning away. “I don’t– I don’t really know what we are.”

A soft expression crossed Basil’s face at that, while Pepper had been expecting more teasing. His sister gently bumped his shoulder with her knuckles, earning a surprised noise from Pepper. “Go talk to him,” Basil murmured, sinking back into the hammock.

Thirty minutes later, Pepper found himself standing on Felix’s nightstand, wracked with uncertainty. Felix had gone to bed earlier than Pepper had expected, clearly exhausted from his terrible hangover and the day’s stressful events.

Felix slept on his side, facing Pepper. The hill of his shoulder was visible in the dim lighting, trailing down to his enormous hand resting directly in front of his chest, drawing in long, heavy breaths. His face, half obscured by his pillow, finally had no traces of stress or tension. It brought a warm feeling into Pepper’s heart to see Felix so relaxed.

Pepper suddenly felt weird, standing on Felix’s nightstand and staring at him while he slept. He wrung his hands, gaze dancing, briefly wondering if he should just go home and try again tomorrow.

But… he really didn’t want to trek all the way home just yet. At least, not until he did what he came here for.

Feeling silly, Pepper cleared his throat. “F–Felix?”

The massive form stirred, but didn’t respond. Pepper tried again, taking a step closer, heart racing. “Er– Felix?”

The bed creaked as Felix shifted. A blue eye flickered open, adjusting for a moment before focusing on Pepper, half-lidded. On instinct, the borrower stepped back, heart fluttering.

Felix released a sleepy exhale, turning his head slightly. “Pepper?”

“Hey.” Pepper released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, suddenly grateful that Felix hadn’t reacted negatively to being woken up.

“It’s late,” Felix murmured, gaze flickering towards the alarm clock behind Pepper. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Everything’s okay. I just wanted to talk to you.” Pepper stepped towards the edge of the nightstand, evaluating the gap between it and the bed. Sucking a sharp breath, Pepper leapt over the gap and onto Felix’s mattress, stumbling on the plush surface and tossing his hands out for balance. When he glanced up, Felix was watching him curiously, silenced by the sudden close proximity between them.

“Thanks for handling the situation with Owen and Breanna,” Pepper commented, placing his hands on Felix’s pillow and hoisting himself up. When he finally squirmed into a seated position, he was only a few inches away from Felix, who had sunk further away into the pillow as if he was afraid of the borrower, a positively silly thought. “I… I still can’t believe they caught Basil.”

“Is she okay?” Felix asked quietly, lashes fluttering. Pepper felt the light breeze of his voice.

“Yeah. She was a little shaken up, but Owen and Breanna seem like decent people… How much did you tell them, anyways?”

Felix drew his bottom lip between his teeth, taking a moment to recall. After a few seconds he shifted until he was laying on his back, gazing at the ceiling. Pepper did the same.

“They already figured out some of it on their own. They know that there are more of you than just Basil, and that you live in the walls of this building, but that’s basically it.”

“Do they know that we’re soulmates?”

“No.”

“…Maybe you should tell them.”

Pepper felt the pillow shift under him as Felix turned his head, blue eyes inquisitive. “You think so?”

Pepper spared him a glance. “I mean, it can’t be a secret forever, can it?”

A comfortable silence fell over them at that, as Felix peered back up at the ceiling, considering. Once Pepper decided that the soft whirr of the air conditioning was too quiet for him, he sat up, turning fully towards Felix.

“I know that this can’t be easy,” Pepper stated calmly. Felix blinked. “I don’t know if we’re the first pair of human-borrower soulmates to ever exist, but it definitely puts more pressure on you than it does for me. You have a life outside of the apartment— friends, school— and I’m sorry that you have to balance me along with it.”

At Felix’s surprised silence, Pepper continued, leaning closer. “I feel like I’ve put so much responsibility on you since I met you. Our size difference means that you have to always be so careful, and never make mistakes, and that’s a lot to ask of you. So… thank you, for everything you’ve done for me.”

Felix flushed as he took in Pepper’s words, unable to pull his gaze away from him. “What are you talking about?” He asked, barely breathing with the borrower so close to his face. “You’re not just some burden. I care about you.”

Pepper observed him for a moment, heart fluttering. Felix’s cheeks were tinged with pink, so close to the borrower, and he felt the strange need to reach his hand out towards him.

Filled with a sudden resolve, Pepper sat up, moving closer to Felix. He paused, taking a moment to appreciate the way Felix froze completely before he leaned forward and placed a small kiss on the tip of Felix’s nose. When he pulled back, Felix had gone scarlet.

Pepper’s heart warmed. He stepped back, holding back a laugh at how Felix released the breath he had been holding.

“You should go to sleep,” he murmured. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

-------

TAGLIST: @smallsday @compact-katrina @satethesatelite @taters169 @entomolog-t @gtzel @gt-newbie @da3dm @clumsiergiantess @vee-normous @fee-hunter @torakan @mabelisthebatman @andithewhumper @mothsintherain @violetlight

tumblr lovessss to not tag people properly so i'm sorry if you are one of those people </3

#pepper & felix #g/t writing #g/t

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stylespresleyhearted · 5 months

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what’s the secret project you posted 👀

oh gosh i keep meaning to answer this and then i keep forgetting or pushing it back for reasons unknown to me i think im just unaccustomed to having any asks lol but anyways this is something that actually started because of a certain thing me and marina yell about when it comes to austin and then as our love for callum grew it came to something else grand and beautiful. now it’s only something that has been discussed in the chat, it has no doc or nothing official to it, it may never even come to fruition (marina is already gifting us with so much goodness in the fic worlds she dabbles in)

but i will share some of it and feel free to come further talk about it if it interests you 😘

Warnings: nsfw below the cut, open relationship, threesome, guy x guy, guy x guy x girl

So we’re all aware of how Austin put his blood, sweat, tears, and soul into his Elvis role. This man gave it his all and I’m truly so grateful to him for it because in my opinion (and most importantly in Lisa Marie’s opinion) he did Elvis Presley justice.

• Bree is a famous and highly esteemed guitarist, singer, and lyricist. She’s won multiple Grammies and written for and with Lana Del Rey, Arctic Monkeys, etc., that’s more her vibe. Baz hires her on during the making of Elvis movie so she could help him modernize the soundtrack and help with the choosing of songs. Maybe she’s even there when Austin gathers all the people from the record label and has them ridicule Austin after his first run through.

• But she’s there before filming and she’s there during filming and her and Austin even shack up together for a while during the first COVID lockdown, spending time with him in his apartment and staying up at all hours of the night to help him get certain scenes right. The bed sheets are tangled, kisses are shared, breakfast is eaten in bed not in the kitchen and there are multiple walks on the beach taken together.

• Bree tries her best to be there for him through all of it. She can sense he’s about to sky rocket and rightfully so, she doesn’t think anyone around can currently measure for his talent. She tries to be a soundboard and a friend and a girlfriend of sorts and a co worker and he’s got her playing all these different roles to keep up with him but keep in mind he never asked her to do any of that. She’s doing it because she loves him, maybe she isn’t in love with him or if she is she isn’t aware of it yet but she does love and care for him.

• And he’s going through his shit. He isn’t sure where Austin begins and Elvis ends and he isn’t in the headspace for a relationship, especially with Bree who deserves the world so when he’s sick as a dog and bed ridden before heading to London he makes sure to have the conversation with her. They were never official. Never went public or had rumors swirl. It’s better to end it on a good note and leave it how it is.

• So consider his surprise when a few months into filming MOTA, Bree shows up on Callum’s arm being introduced as his girlfriend. It’s supposed to be a lads night and Barry dragged him out and now someone who he calls one of his closest friends is introducing Bree as his current girlfriend. A close friend who he goes on walks in the parks with, who places kisses on his cheek after a few drinks, who places his hand on the small of Austin’s back when he approaches him, who pinches his cheeks and welcomed him with open arms. Dating someone who was there at his worst and gave him her heart and stayed up entire nights talking him down when his anxiety was too high and made him do self care when he forgot he was supposed to be his own person.

• and see, Callum and Bree are both Brits so they run in semi same circles and they knew of each other and were friends but Callum was with Vanessa Kirby and they were in love and for a while Bree was with Alex Turner and them afterwards there was Austin. So Callum and Bree were already friends and when they run into each other at a record shop and then head to lunch after and maybe Callum gave her a kiss goodbye when they went separate ways - it all just grew from there.

• so maybe Austin feels a green jealous monster growing inside his chest but who he’s jealous of he’s unsure and a larger part of him is actually happy for both of them. They’re good people, they love each other and both deserve each other.

• they’re suddenly everywhere. She accompanies Callum on set and it’s clear to everyone how in love they are and one time when they’re filming the POW scenes and everyone’s on lunch Austin is looking for peace and quiet so he wanders into their “bunks” but there right in front of him - Callum holding Bree up against the wood panel walls, pounding into her as she moans his name so prettily, his sheepskin jacket still on and making him sweaty. Callum’s eyes open and he catches Austin walking, Austin who trips over his own feet to back away but Callum just smiles and winks at him.

• and later Callum approaches Austin with a high five and a cheeky, “see how good I was giving it to her, mate?”

• and fuck, Austin gets hard thinking about it. Gets hard thinking about Bree’s moans and Callum’s grunt and his sweat and her breasts bouncing against his chest.

• then filming wraps and Austin’s free of them. Doesn’t have to be in there presence every day anymore and he meets someone, a nepo baby who’s beautiful and kind and he’s in a place where he feels he can be with someone so he goes for it and he falls in love.

• and MOTA press isn’t until 2024 so it’s two years of only a handful of run ins with them but then press starts and news break: Callum and Bree are engaged. And the entire cast and crew are happy and they all celebrate.

• She didn’t join Elvis press because she was touring.

• so now Austin is around his engaged friends and he has mixed feelings regarding both of them. See he’s happy and he loves his girlfriend and his career is good but if he’s being honest something is missing and when he wants to torture himself he admits he knows exactly what it is. And he’s doing interviews and Bree is backstage and Callum’s always so touchy and so kind in his words in regard to Austin and one day Callum admits Bree told him what went down between Bree and Austin and Callum’s a confident guy, he assures Austin it’s all fine.

• But maybe it’s the first screening of MOTA, and Callum and Bree are tired of Austin’s sad puppy dog eyes every time they catch him watching them so Bree corners Austin backstage. Gets close and starts palming him through his pants, assuring him Callum wouldn’t mind, in fact Callum has been purposely teasing Austin during interviews trying to get him to cave.

• Callum and Bree both decided if they all wanted it how could it be wrong? Why not go for it?

• And Bree’s falling to her knees and taking Austin in her mouth, pretty pouty lips wrapped around him as she takes him all the way in and suddenly Callum is there, watching them, talking her through it.

• “Isn’t she phenomenal, mate? Had to work with her to get rid of that gag reflex and now she can deep throat me.”

• and Callum waits until Austin mewls his name and calls him over, begging him to be a part of this somehow, to please hold him. So Callum is joining them, Bree so pretty on her knees between them and Callum is flicking Austin’s nipple and letting Austin let his moans out in his neck.

That’s all we have more to come soon if ya’ll wish 🌚

• oh yeah there’s a scene where Bree holds Austin’s hand the first time Callum fucks him because she’s aware of the pain of how large Callum is.

@precious-little-scoundrel

#callum turner #austin butler #callum x austin #callum turner fanfiction #austin butler fanfiction #callum turner fanfic #austin butler fanfic #callum turner smut #austin butler smut #*made by me #return to sender 💌#blurbs #austin x callum #mota fanfic #callum turner x reader #austin butler x reader #callum turner x austin butler #illicit affairs 💫

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lathalea · 2 months

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Congratulations on your followers! 🎉✨🧚🏼‍♀️ I am so happy to see you on my feed that I am not sure what I could even request… Would it be ok to request an Aragorn x reader ficlet with

26. Hurt/Comfort AU and

5. “You did this for me?” (Maybe Aragorn got protective of the reader and she takes care of his wounds… just a little suggestion)

I am really not sure if I did this right and I apologize in advance if I did something wrong or made you uncomfortable. Thank you for doing this 💜 I hope you have a wonderful day Take care <3

Thank you so much and thank you for your wonderful ask! I hope you will enjoy the story I wrote for you... and I hope you don’t mind I tweaked your prompt a tiiiiiny bit ;)

The Golden Hour

The sudden battle with the Ringwraiths at Amon Sûl took a toll on everyone. Frodo’s wound was serious — more serious than you have ever seen. It was a Morgul-blade, after all. The other Hobbits were shaken, but unscathed. What a relief. But then you noticed Aragorn clenching his left hand and giving out a slight hiss.

“You’re wounded!” Instantly, you recalled that he held that burning torch in this hand, attacking the wraiths with it mere moments ago.

“It’s nothing, my lady.” He shook his head and examined Frodo’s wound. “This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs elvish medicine.”

“Rivendell?” Your gaze met his. There was a frown on his handsome face when he nodded in agreement.

“We have no time to lose,” he said, looking at Frodo's pale face.

“I’ll take him there,” you stated. Your bay mare whinnied in agreement. It would not be your first race against death, and the Ranger knew it well.

After you placed Frodo safely before you, Aragorn gave your hand a squeeze.

“Ride with the grace of Valar.” He spoke with a glint in his eye.

The coarseness of his skin against yours made you tremble a little, and you looked away. You did not want him to read what hid in your eyes. He was the Strider, the legendary Ranger of the North, and you were… well, just you. A girl from nowhere — or everywhere. You met on the trail a couple of months ago and since then you travelled together. Both of you seemed to enjoy each other’s company. You exchanged tales by the fire, sang songs under the stars, or simply rode in silence, admiring the beauty of the landscape ahead of you.

Then four hobbits joined you in Bree and from their whispered remarks you understood that the Strider was guiding them somewhere. Wandering hobbits were quite unusual, just like their mission had to be, but you never asked any questions. You understood they had their secrets, and you respected it. In the meantime, you scouted the area, took night watches together with Aragorn, and made sure that Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were safe. Now, you were about to do it once again — for Frodo.

And so you rode like the wind, day and night, night and day, fleeing from the black shadows trying to catch up with you. But you and your mare were faster, leaving the dull thudding of their ghastly steeds’ hooves behind.

You crossed the fast-flowing waters of the river Bruinen with haste, and soon you found yourself in the Last Homely House, Lord Elrond’s domain. He was glad to see you in Imladris again and took care of the barely conscious Frodo right away. Elrond’s healing powers were legendary, so you were almost certain that he would succeed. And so he did.

A couple of days later Aragorn and the three hobbits arrived, exhausted and hungry. You could not help but notice how he held his left hand, fisted and close to his chest. There were deep shadows under his eyes.

“Let me see to your hand,” you said, closing the distance between you.

“The hobbits first,” he spoke quietly. You knew his face well by now; it was pale. Too pale for your liking.

That was when lady Arwen arrived, welcoming the new guests. As soon as you exchanged a glance with her, she swiftly moved towards Sam, Merry and Pippin.

“Welcome to Imladris, dear guests. May I offer you a place to rest and something to replenish your strength?” she spoke in her melodious voice, turning to the hobbits. Only then did Aragorn allow you to take him to his quarters.

You rolled up his left sleeve when he sat on his bed, and then you examined his arm. It looked like a large part of his hand and forearm was covered with burns, probably when one of the wraiths attempted his final attack, his robes on fire. You worked slowly, meticulously, and as gently as you could. At the end, you covered his skin with an elvish ointment given to you by lord Elrond and bandaged the worst-looking wounds. It would take some time, but you knew he would be fully healed.

When you were done with your work, he was already asleep. The only thing you could do was to cover him with a blanket and leave him to rest.

***

A few days later you decided to take a walk in lord Elrond’s gardens. Whenever you visited Rivendell, you liked to stroll through this magical place, but this time you were not alone. On the path ahead of you, you saw a familiar figure bathed in the warm light of the evening sun.

“My lady,” the Ranger bowed his head and you saw how differently he looked from the man you had come to know on the road. Gone was the tiredness from his face and the grime from his clothes. Now, he wore green elvish robes, and his freshly washed hair softly fell onto his shoulders. In the golden light of the setting sun he looked more like a ruler of an ancient realm than a travelling swordsman.

“I have been looking for you,” he added. “I would like to thank you for what you did: for saving Frodo’s life, and with him, perhaps even something greater. And for caring for me when I needed it the most.”

“I haven’t done anything unusual. This is what one does when their travelling companions are in need. How is your arm doing today?” You glanced at his freshly bandaged arm.

“It is better, thanks to you.” A small smile appeared on his face, reaching the grey pools of his eyes. There was something in his gaze that made you smile back at him.

“Tomorrow I will have to leave Rivendell and continue my journey,” Aragorn continued. “It is a perilous one, and I do not know when or if I will return. I would like you to have this as a token of my appreciation. Something to remember me by, perhaps.”

“A necklace? Is that a mountain crystal? You made this for me?” you blinked in disbelief, looking at the crystal glinting golden in the sun, and at the elegantly interwoven leather straps that held it.

“I began making it on the road. They call this kind of crystal the elvenstone. May I?”

“Of course.” You bit your lower lip as Aragorn placed the necklace around your neck. He stood so close to you, you felt the warmth of his fingers brushing against the sides of your neck, and there was that smell of herbs, leather, and pipeweed, one that you could recognize even with your eyes closed.

“So very beautiful…” you whispered, touching the glistening crystal with your fingers.

“Very…” added Aragorn, but his eyes were set on your face. You swallowed.

“I will wear it every day with pride.” You heard yourself say. “But it will not remind me of you because I will be by your side.”

“But… My lady, the journey ahead of me is full of danger, I cannot…” He began, taking your hand in his.

“We have survived quite a few dangerous situations together, haven’t we? I believe we will survive a few more,” you smiled at him, finding golden sparks of sun among the grey clouds of Aragorn’s eyes.

“I believe we will,” your Ranger agreed and you knew that at dawn, you would be riding out from Imladris together.

Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging 💙

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#lathalea's huge follower celebration #lotr #aragorn #fic request #aragorn x reader #lotr fanfic #tolkien fanfiction #the lord of the rings

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