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wil-o-wispy · 3 months

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The Wife, the Lover and the Bastard Son - Part 2

Chris Redfield x FM! Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 (you are here) | Part 3 | Part 4

Synopsis: It's the morning after Chris Redfield took care of you and things are oddly... domestic?

Includes: MDNI - NSFW, fluff, banter, angst, oral (FM reader receiving), porn with plot, use of pet names (sweetheart, good girl, pretty girl, baby, gorgeous), minor reader injury from previous part, reference to drinking in the previous part. Reader is referred to as 'Doc' otherwise. Reader is the wife of (dead) Albert Wesker and is a former Umbrella scientist.

A/N: WOO this took so long to get out. I can't write linearly to save my life and my writer brain wanted to work on plot stuff taking place after this chapter. On the bright side the next few parts should get done quicker. Hopefully. This is also my first spicy writing thing so have fun!

wc: 6.5k+

The first thing you notice when you wake up the next morning is the pounding headache behind your eyes and a throbbing in your foot. You lift an arm over your face and groan, the cheery brightness of the morning sun still too much for your blurry eyes to properly accommodate to. For a few precious minutes, you just lay in bed trying to string together a coherent thought other than, ‘I’m never drinking whiskey again,’ because you know that promise won’t last the month.

Then it all comes back to you. The almost-bar fight. Chris driving you home. The broken glass. Chris comforting you. Bits and pieces of the previous night stitch themselves together and you are both relieved and embarrassed of its events.

It feels like a monumental weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Sure, the dirty looks would stay along with your reputation, but Chris Redfield doesn’t think you’re a monster. However, the relief is almost overshadowed by a creeping sense of embarrassment. You never show that kind of vulnerability in front of anyone. Not even Albert after the Mansion incident.

Despite the conflicting feelings, you’re thankful that Chris had the foresight to put you into your bed and tuck you in. Everything after crawling into Chris’ lap and crying your eyes out is hazy due to your alcohol consumption, but you do have a distinct memory of being lifted off the ground and carried by a pair of strong, warm and comforting arms past a broom propped up on the doorway to the kitchen.

The broom. The glass. Your foot. There’s still blood and glass in the foyer that you have to clean up.

With a groan, you roll out of bed, stretching to relieve some of the tightness in your muscles that accompanies a bad hangover. It’s at this point you realize you’re wearing a sweatshirt that you hadn’t worn the night before. Your heart stops in your chest until you lift the hem of it and see you’re still wearing the nice shirt you wore to your D.S.O. interview the day before.

Chris. Always the gentleman.

You take stock of what you’re wearing; oversized sweatshirt, nice shirt, nice pants, no socks, but a sizeable amount of gauze is on one foot. While you take stock of yourself and your surroundings, you also notice a couple aspirin and a sports drink on your bedside table that you know you didn’t have in the house last night. Chris cared both about your comfort and boundaries while intoxicated, as well as the aftermath of it. He even went out and bought you items to help with your hangover.

Another event to add to the overflowing list of reasons why you don’t deserve him.

Or do you? He doesn’t fault you for your dead husband’s actions. He goes to bat for you when the B.S.A.A., D.S.O., or any other anti-bioterrorism organization is up your ass. He listens when you need to vent and drink your sorrows away. He’s kind. He’s considerate. He’s a good man. He’s everything that Albert wasn’t.

Stop it.

You pop the aspirin in your mouth and wash it down with the sports drink, dismissing any other thoughts on how good Chris had been to you. Things in your life were already too complicated. No use in entertaining far-fetched fantasies. He’s got to be this considerate with anyone, right? You couldn’t recall a specific instance comparable to last night that would justify that thought, but you try to think of one as you strip off the clothes from the night before and throw on some clean loungewear. You opt to wear some sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

As you get dressed, you rediscover an offer letter that you’d forgotten to reject. Even though your last name gave you a reputation, numerous branches of the B.S.A.A. requested your transfer every year due to your expertise in bioweapons research. After all, who would be better at combatting these threats than someone who witnessed their creation and aftermath? This one was more tempting than most; an offer to work in B.S.A.A. Europe HQ in Germany, Head Researcher position, fully furnished apartment included and competitive salary.

You crumple the offer letter and toss it in the trash. Tempting, but stability is on the top of your list of priorities at the moment. An international move is the opposite of that. You go into your bathroom attached to your bedroom and do your morning routine, opting to worry about a shower later.

You go out into the hallway, hobbling a bit with the injured foot but staying upright without trouble. The aspirin is starting to kick in and you’re already feeling a bit better. You make a list in your head of things to get done before burying yourself in blankets on the couch; sweep up the glass, mop the foyer of the remaining blood, take a shower, make a greasy breakfast, binge watch something.

Your mental list is interrupted by sounds coming from your kitchen. Confused, you turn down the hall and see Chris’ car keys still on the table in the entryway. You also see the floor is devoid of glass, blood, and the medical supplies from the night before.

Chris hears you pad into the kitchen and flashes his signature grin as he turns bacon on your stove with a fork. There’s a plate with finished bacon pieces on a paper towel next to the stove, as well as two plates with toast.

“Morning Doc.”

“Morning. You stayed the night?” Your tone is cordial. It’s not accusatory because, oddly enough, you don’t mind Chris sleeping over. At any point before last night, you would have been miffed and probably would have given a speech arguing you could take care of yourself and that he had a lot of nerve spending the night considering your history. But Chris making you breakfast still stirs up that guilt of him doing more nice things for you to add on to the laundry list of favors he’d done for you over the years. But you can’t deny the smell of what he’s cooking makes your mouth water.

“Yeah, I took the couch. You had a lot to drink. I just wanted to make sure you woke up okay.”

You snort. “Right. You sure you weren’t just avoiding having to sleep in the barracks last night?”

Chris chuckles at your joke and holds his hands up in playful surrender. “You got me. Can’t pull the wool over your eyes.”

You return the smile and hobble next to Chris by the stove, leaning on the counter next to him just watching him cook. You have to make a conscious effort to focus on the food, and not to stare at Chris’ battle toned forearms for too long.

“Now I can accept you making sure I don’t choke on my own vomit, but this-” You gesture to the stove and the entryway, “-is crossing the line. You’re in my house. I’m supposed to take care of you. Not the other way around.”

“What? I can’t treat my host to breakfast and a cleaner house?” He’s still jovial when turns his attention back to the stove and turns the bacon.

“That’s reverse hospitality,” You quip.

“Then consider me a reverse guest,” Chris answers.

You let out an exasperated sigh and your body slumps. “Chris, seriously you didn’t have to do all that-”

“I wanted to.” Chris stops looking at the bacon in the pan and looks you in the eyes.

You two stare at each other in silence, gazes locked in a battle of wills.

“You don’t have to do everything yourself.” Chris says softly, with a hint of authority in his tone.

“I know that.” You bite back, challenging him.

Chris raises an eyebrow, and you see a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Do you?”

More silence. You let out another sigh and you break from his gaze to stare at the floor instead.

“You’ve already done more for me than I could ever hope to repay. I don’t need to owe you more favors for something like last night.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Bullshit.” You look back up at him in disbelief; mouth open and eyebrows knitted together.

“No bullshit. I’m serious.”

You open your mouth to argue more, but Chris shushes you and places a cup of hot tea in your hands before you can protest. You didn’t even notice it sitting next to the stove. You feel the comforting warmth of his fingers ghost over yours as he guides your hand to take hold of the mug handle.

“No bullshit, you have my word. Now sit down, rest that foot, enjoy your drink, and let me handle everything else.”

You open and close your mouth, trying to articulate a response. There’s not much you can say to argue against that, especially when his gentle touch is making your brain go haywire. The captain is a man of his word. Those perceptive eyes of his hold no hint of deception, only genuine kindness like you saw the night before. Not to mention there’s something undeniably attractive about him wanting to take care of you in such a gentle, authoritative manner. You relent and take a sip of tea trying to calm your racing heart.

“Thanks.”

Chris’ face lights up and he flashes another smile. “Thatta girl. How do you like your eggs?”

You try to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach when he says that. “I’m not picky, however you’re having them.” You push yourself off the counter, snatch a piece of bacon from the plate and hobble over to the barstool sitting area at the kitchen island behind Chris.

“Save some for your meal.” You hear Chris smiling as he says that.

“I’m making sure it’s crispy enough. Sue me.”

Your conversation goes on in that comfortable rhythm all throughout breakfast; casual conversation with witty remarks thrown in followed by a joke that starts the cycle all over again. Chris sits on the stool next to you, and you both enjoy the two plates of toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon that Chris had made.

“You’re going to spoil me at this rate.” You say with a grin.

“You make that sound like a bad thing.”

“It kind of is. You’re going to make me miss having you around to clean up my messes and make me food.” You eat your toast, keeping up the playful banter.

“And what if I am?” The way Chris says that doesn’t make it sound like he’s joking, but you brush it off and roll your eyes, munching on the last of your bacon. “I’d call your bluff.”

“Why do you think it’s a bluff?”

You sit there just looking at your fork for a beat, trying to think of the best way to phrase your thoughts. You can’t think of anything, but you turn your gaze back to Chris and answer him with a question. “Because why would you care if I miss you?”

“Because who wouldn’t want the attention of a woman like you?” Chris’ expression shifts from that kind expression you’re used to, to a more wistful and romantic one.

Your mouth goes dry and your heart races in your chest. It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. “People with half a brain and a shred of common sense.” The statement is said with your signature dry sense of humor, but there’s also an edge of something akin to a warning. It doesn’t deter Chris in the slightest.

“Ouch. At least I’ve got my looks going for me,” he quips with a smirk. It amazes you that he’s still joking about something you think is so serious. It makes you want to wipe that sexy smile right off his face. Whether it’s with a kiss or sharp words is still up for debate.

“Chris-” You warn sharply.

“Doc-” Chris says, pleadingly.

“No. It’s a bad idea. End of story.” Your tone comes out much gentler than you intend. You pick at the last of your food, not wanting to look at Chris and betray your true feelings that you’ve tried so hard to suppress over the years. He killed your husband. Your evil, narcissistic, psychopathic husband. Despite who Albert was, it felt like you would cross some sort of moral boundary you couldn’t come back from if you indulged in those thoughts. But the longer Chris looks at you with that wanting gaze, the less imposing that boundary becomes.

“You know me. I love bad ideas.” As Chris speaks in a low, romantic tone, your mind runs wild and your cheeks flush red with all the possible interpretations of his words.

You hear the barstool next to you squeak, Chris’ hand comes into your vision, rests delicately on your cheek, and tilts your head back towards him. His face is dangerously close to yours. You see every detail of his face; his dark hazel eyes, the small mole under his right eye, the stubble on his jaw, the subtle hair growth around his mouth and chin, and finally his lips.

You don’t know who leans in first, but one moment you’re committing Chris’ face to memory, and the next your lips are against his. Your eyes close and time stops. The kiss is slow, methodical and fills you with a pleasant warmth that makes your stomach flip and heart skip a beat.

You can’t remember the last time you had a kiss like this, and you don’t want to. All you want to do in this moment is experience everything Chris has to offer. Everything.

It feels like an eternity has passed when you both finally break for air. You breathe in a shaky breath. Shaky from how weak in the knees the kiss made you, as well as nervous energy from crossing that boundary you’d made for yourself. You just kissed the man who killed your husband and you liked it. Not only that, but that kiss stirred something lustful inside you that makes you want even more.

“Look at me pretty girl.” Chris whispers. His hand still holds the side of your face while his thumb caresses your cheekbone.

You open your eyes, and you see Chris smiling at you. It falters and switches into something much more concerned when he sees your conflicted look.

“We can stop if you want to. I can leave and we can agree this never happened if that’s what you want.” You can feel his hot breath on your face as he murmurs in a low tone.

Maybe it’s the residual feeling of safety due to the events of the night before, an accumulation of repressed want from years working alongside each other, or maybe it’s just the need to feel someone else’s loving embrace. Morality be damned. Maybe it’s the pounding of your heart drowning out all common sense, but you crave the man in front of you more than anything in the universe right now. Your next words come out in a wanting murmur.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

This time, it’s you that leans back in to kiss Chris’ incredulous expression, but he immediately melts back into your lips. Once it’s established that this is something you’re craving, Chris earnestly returns the enthusiasm. Sweet kisses morph into fervent tastes for more as your lips intertwine with Chris’. Tongues dance in a teasing duel for dominance that you are all too happy to lose just so you can feel how eager Chris is to feast on your sighs of pleasure. Bask in your shivers of ecstasy. Relish in your desperate pants for oxygen from him taking your breath away.

The only thing you can even comprehend with his inviting tongue intertwining with yours is that it’s not enough. You want more. You need more. More of his warmth, more of his lips, more of him. The heat that Chris awoke in you has grown from mere embers to a growing, starving flame that wants to savor and devour everything that’s yet to come.

It doesn’t take long to know Chris feels the exact same way. Committing your pleasure to memory with his hands and lips won’t do. With how far you were leaning into his embrace, you were halfway to touching his lap already, but Chris eagerly expediates the process. His hands abandon your cheek and neck to claim your hips and guide you to sit on his lap where you belong. You take a sharp intake of breath and clutch Chris’ shoulders for balance from the change in position, but Chris is quick to soothe your concerns while keeping his lips on any inch of your skin he can reach.

“Don’t worry baby I’ve got you. I’ve got you…”

You reposition yourself on his lap so you feel more secure in Chris’ grasp, but you accidentally grind against his crotch. A deep groan is released from Chris’ lips and he kisses your skin with more fervor. Being positioned the way you are on his lap, it’s difficult not to notice the growing hardness underneath his jeans.

“All that for me?” You try to be sultry, but don’t do a good job of it because you can barely get any discernible words out with how hard you’re breathing.

“Have you seen yourself sweetheart?” Chris leaves wet kisses from your collarbone to your neck, then captures your lips in a ravenous kiss. “Fucking gorgeous with your cheeks all red like that…”

Chris lifts you up off his lap effortlessly and you gasp and hold onto his shoulders as he places you on the counter in front of him. Once you’re secure, his hands are quick to wander and caress everything he can reach; from your hips, to your ass, to your thighs, then hips, then ribs, lower back then repeating the pathing again. Eagerness and patience are at war with each other as he alternates between greedily clutching each soft feature and methodically caressing every one of your curves as if trying to commit them to memory.

You’re breathing heavily when he rips his lips away from yours and starts kissing you down your jaw to your throat. He feverishly leaves open mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin tenderly yet enthusiastically. You can tell he’s savoring every part of you, clearly eager to do more but wanting to enjoy every detail of your physique first. It takes no time at all for him to find the spots that make you squirm and pant in his embrace. When his teeth lightly graze your pulse point, your legs reflexively tighten around his waist, but you accidentally bump the barstool behind Chris with your injured foot with a loud clunk and curse. The throbbing in your foot is back with full force, making you wince. Worse, Chris pulls away from your neck and stares at you intensely with a worried look. Slightly flushed cheeks and labored breath.

“You alright?” He looks behind him and sees the scene of the crime, and lightly scoots the barstool a safe distance away with his foot. Chris moves to lean down and examine your foot, but you’re quick to grasp his face and lovingly bring it back to yours. You kiss Chris’ cheek and give him a reassuring smile.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” You lean back in to kiss Chris, ignoring the shooting pain from your injured foot and getting lost in the intoxicating taste of his lips. Chris’ worried expression melts away somewhat, but he still speaks lowly between breaks for air.

“You need to rest that foot on something.”

“Later,” You whisper, going back in to capture his lips again.

The captain slides one of his large, calloused hands on the back of your head and strokes the hair there, and you think you’ve convinced him to drop the subject. Oh how wrong you are.

In one moment, you’re getting lost in the feeling of Chris’ hands on the back of your head and shoulders, and the next Chris has pushed your plates to the side and laid you swiftly, but gently, on your back.

“Chris!” You whine as you try to sit up, but you’re stopped by a large hand putting weight on your ribcage and fleeting kisses down your neck and chest. His voice is muffled from how close his face is to your trembling body, but you hear him speak in that authoritative, husky voice again as he continues to kiss further down your chest. “Uh uh, you stay put.” You’re about to protest the change in position, wanting nothing more than to keep Chris’ lips on yours, but his lips on your inner thigh make your words die in your throat. Chris lightly sucks the area while his darkening gaze is honed in on your face.

“I meant it when I said you need to rest that foot…” Chris places another lingering kiss on your inner thigh slightly closer to your aching core. “…so be a good girl and put those pretty thighs over my shoulders.”

The effects of his words are immediate; blood rushes to your cheeks so quickly that you feel lightheaded, the heat in your abdomen that was kindled by his touch burns hotter, and your lips part in silent shock and anticipation of what he’ll do next. For once, your brain has short circuited, and you don’t have anything to say. All you can do is gape and nod as you hook your knee with the injured foot over his shoulder.

“Good. Now I want you to relax and let me take care of you. Okay?” The low vibrating timbre of his voice is so close to your aching clit that you arch your back and whine, nodding.

Chris continues to be a paradox of patience and eagerness as he coaxes more and more delicious sounds from you. His large hands greedily grasp the flesh of your hips and thighs, but don’t grope close enough to give you the stimulation you crave. His mouth worships the space between your thigh and groin but never dares venture further than the rolled-up edge of your night shorts where you’re clenching around nothing. He never stimulates what is begging to be loved underneath despite how much both of you crave it.

“Chris…please.” You beg, eyes clouded over with lust and need.

“Hmmmm… I don’t hear you say that a lot.” You can practically hear the shit eating smile in his voice as Chris keeps kissing you the same way as before, but one of his fingers teasingly traces the hem of your shorts. He’s right. You don’t. That little comment would infuriate you if the wetness between your thighs and throbbing clit weren’t on the top of the list of things on your mind right now. If you have to say please to get Chris to take care of you, you’ll relent and do it.

“Please just to-oooh!” Your desperate request is cut short by a moan being released from the back of your throat.

Chris keeps kissing the sensitive spots between your thighs, but two of his fingers have slipped under the edge of your shorts by the groin and is lightly rubbing the fabric over your engorged bundle of nerves. He experiments with different speeds and pressures until he finds the ones that make your back arch, eyes roll to the back of your head, and thighs close around his face. Just when you’re bucking your hips into his hand and you feel your pleasure building, you feel his fingers retreat.

“Chris!” You whine, body relaxing back into the counter but desperate for more of his touch.

“I know baby, I’ll take care of it.” Chris assures you as he hooks his fingers into the crotch of your shorts and underwear, pulling them to one side then practically diving into your dripping folds. His mouth is greedy when he’s finally between your thighs where you want him to be. Chris’ tongue laves at your entrance with long, languid strokes at first, but quickly devolves into him thrusting his tongue into your cunt so deeply that his nose is bumping your clit with each plunge of his tongue and you writhing and panting in pleasure as your climax quickly builds back to where Chris’ fingers left off.

He tries to be patient and draw it out for your sake, he really does, but you taste too good. Your moans and whimpers of ecstasy sound too pretty. The way you’re grabbing his forearm arm that’s caging your hips to the counter for dear life that so obviously signals how close you are is the biggest turn on. His mouth gorges on your release and he swears it’s his new favorite meal.

That starving flame in your abdomen that Chris has been feeding this whole time is so close to overtaking you, but you need more and Chris can sense this in how you tremble around him and desperate cries of his name tumble from your lips. He replaces his tongue with one of his fingers and he keeps up the same speed and intensity while his lips latch on to your clit, gently sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves and tongue making purposeful, salacious strokes that makes your face contort in delight.

You fall apart in mere moments. Your back arches as you feel your orgasm crash through you like a tidal wave and the pleasure is almost overwhelming. You cling to Chris’ forearm as you ride out the powerful sensation. Even with your thighs closing in around his head, his lips don’t let up their assault on your clit until you’re bordering on being overstimulated and trying to push his head away. Your thighs twitch from the aftermath, your cunt and clit throb from the greedy attention of Chris’ lovemaking, and you’re pretty sure you have breadcrumbs in your hair from the toast in the long forgotten breakfast that was made for you.

Even with all of that, it still leaves you with a warm, comfortable sense of pleasure and a blissfully hazy mind.

Chris gently laps up the mess between your folds with his tongue, both determined not to let a drop of you go to waste as well as to prolong your pleasure while you come back down to Earth. With a final quick kiss to your clit that makes your hips twitch into his mouth, Chris tenderly moves the crotch of your panties and shorts back over your pelvis. He uses the collar of his t-shirt to wipe your release from his chin, and licks his finger clean.

You feel boneless when he sits you up. You’re breathing is shallow, but slowly returning to normal when Chris brings you to his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder and lazily wrap your arms around his waist. His hand is under your shirt at your lower back, hand pressed against your spine and rubbing the area firmly while his other hand cradles your head at the back of your neck. For the first time in what feels like years, you feel wanted and loved. The warmth of his hands and arms as well as his breath in your ear feels so addicting. You don’t want him to let go.

“You still with me gorgeous?” He whispers into your ear.

“Yeah…” You mumble, smiling into Chris’ neck as he cuddles you. A deep chuckle vibrates in Chris’ chest, and he plants a soft kiss on your temple. Then another one on your cheekbone. Then another next to your ear…

You giggle and close your eyes, “Someone’s eager.”

“Hard not to be with such a beautiful woman in front of me.”

After a few more kisses Chris gently moves you off his shoulder so you can sit up and look at him with half lidded eyes. For a moment you just sit there blinking slowly at him relishing in his embrace, and he’s just smiling at your fucked out expression. His hand slides from the back of your next to your cheek. He rubs the skin there with his thumb for a moment, then leans in to kiss you properly.

Just when Chris is a breath away from tasting your lips, a jarring ringtone cracks through the air and brings you back to reality. It’s Chris’ phone, but he doesn’t make a move to answer it. He only pauses at the first ring and captures your lips in a sweet kiss on the second.

“You’re not going to answer that?”

“They’ll call back if it’s important.” Chris murmurs against your lips and goes back in for more, seemingly drunk off the taste of you and your affection as you chuckle and kiss him back. After a few more seconds, the phone stops ringing only for it to resume again almost immediately after.

“I guess it’s important.” You sigh against Chris’ lips when you reluctantly pull away. Chris lets out a frustrated breath and pulls back, still not making a move to answer the call. His gaze darts from your eyes to your lips like he’s thinking about ignoring it again. You know better. The captain is a busy and well-respected man. You’ll be damned if that gets ruined because he can’t keep his hands off you. You smile sympathetically at him and kiss his cheek.

“I’ll clean up while you take care of that.” You move to get off the counter, but Chris’ strong hands at your hips stop you.

“I told you that you need to rest your foot.”

“You can convince me to elevate it again after you deal with that soldier boy. But until then-” You lean to the side to grab Chris’ phone, remove his hand from your hip, then plop the phone in his palm. “-duty calls.” You reply cheekily, giving the speechless captain a smirk before lowering yourself off the counter to collect the plates.

Chris shakes his head, smiles, presses a button on his phone and lifts it to his ear. “Hello?” You turn on the sink and begin washing the plates. You hear Chris reply in a more serious tone, and turn out of the kitchen to take the call in the living room. “Yeah, this is Captain Redfield.” Over the sound of the water you can’t hear who’s on the other end, but you can gather this is a serious conversation. You just hope it isn’t notifying Chris of a new outbreak, or something else that would require his immediate attention. You’d hate for it to disrupt such a pleasurable morning.

After you finish washing the plates, you turn off the tap and begin drying them. The speaker on Chris’ phone isn’t loud by any means, but in the silence of your little house you can clearly hear the conversation in the living room from your kitchen sink. And on the other end of the call, you hear a familiar, grating voice.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach. It doesn’t take a genius to know that it’s the D.S.O. agent from your interview the day before. From the sound of it, the agent still had a stick up his ass and seemed to be grilling Chris with the same intensity he was questioning you. You can make out the tinny voice of the D.S.O. agent, clearly not liking Chris’ answers. “You want to know what I think captain? I think you’ve been soft on her.”

You can hear the scowl in Chris’ voice when he answers the agent with the same level of disdain while also remaining professional. “And I think you’re being harsh because you’re trying to see things that aren’t there. Aren’t government agents supposed to practice due process? She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Her husband almost destroyed the world. You really expect me to just take her word that she didn’t help?”

“She has been nothing but cooperative since then. Every bit of information she’s given the B.S.A.A. has checked out. Plus, her work after the fact has prevented more outbreaks than I’m cleared to talk about. There is no reason to suspect her of bioterrorism.”

There’s silence on the other end of the call, then the sound of a throat being cleared. “Well captain I called to inform you that I need to bring in a third party to verify your claims. No hard feelings of course, but I do believe your history with her is clouding your judgement.”

A range of emotions hits you all at once when you hear that. Anger at this asshole for being thick in the head. Annoyance at the fact that you’ll probably have to do yet another pointless interview about Africa. Then finally, a paralyzing uneasiness at the agent’s implication against Chris. You’ve been too soft on her. Chris’ high professional opinion of you alone results in distrust.

“Yeah, you do that. We done here?” You hear Chris reply cooly, but the rest of the conversation in drowned out by your inner turmoil.

Chris being in close professional proximity to you already turns heads, and not in a good way. Sure the people who can understand your work respect your intellect and appreciate the help, but everyone else sees the shadow of Albert’s memory.

All is takes is someone breathing the name Wesker and the seed of distrust is already planted. Chris being in your corner alleviates some of that, albeit with bewildered looks and reluctant agreement.

You working with Chris is already unusual, but people respect him so they go along with the strange dynamic you two have. Would that respect remain if people knew you were fucking him? Would his team still follow him with full confidence into battle with no questions asked if they knew he was making you cry out his name after the mission was said and done? Would Chris still be sent on missions to clear up the loose ends of Umbrella’s misgivings if his superiors knew he was coming home to you, who literally slept with the enemy? In your mind, absolutely not.

How could you be so reckless? So selfish? You know you won’t be able to salvage any of Chris’ reputation by your own volition. Only taint it. In your mind, there can easily be a future where you and Chris are together, but the world slowly falls apart because of the distrust of you and the once infallible captain. True, Chris isn’t the B.S.A.A.’s only veteran, but he’s undoubtedly one of the most revered.

Before you can spiral further, two calloused hands grip your hips and a pair of lips tenderly kiss the space behind your ear. You can hear a smile and a suggestive mischievousness in Chris’ voice.

“I have to head out soon to handle a few things, but I’m going to make sure that foot is nice and elevated before I go.”

You heart flips and you can feel your cunt throb hearing his offer. You momentarily consider letting Chris have another taste of you, but instead you stick to your resolve. “You can head out now. This isn’t going to work out the way you think it will.”

You feel Chris’ grip on your hips soften and wait for his response. You can clearly envision him connecting the dots in his head of why you had a change of heart.

“Don’t let one asshole ruin something good for you.” Chris’ voice is soft, soothing. Pleading. One of his hands leaves your hips and tries to lace itself on top of your hand gripping the sink. You snatch your hand back and move away from his addictive embrace so there is an appropriate amount of space between you two. Your voice is serious and even. You look at Chris head on. His previously captivating eyes are confused.

“That’s not the point. You are so lucky people look up to you. I’m not going to ruin that by entertaining this.”

“I think that’s a joint decision-” Chris starts, but you’re quick to shut him down.

“No. You don’t get a say in this. You need to go, and we are going to forget today even happened.”

“Doc, that’s just one agent-”

“Among dozens more who think what he’s thinking but keep their opinions to themselves, so they don’t speak out against the B.S.A.A.’s golden boy.”

Chris looks like he's carefully picking his next words but you speak out before he has the chance to form a compelling argument. “I refuse to drag you down to my level. End of discussion. Leave.”

Chris is standing a few paces away from you next to the sink, still looking like he wants to keep insisting on a potential partnership that you know is doomed to fail. Your shoulders slump and you try a different tactic.

“I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I changed my mind. I don’t want you here right now. Please respect that.”

Chris processes your words. He nods his head and heads to the door. “Alright.”

You see him put his hand on his keys on the entryway table, but he doesn’t pick them up. His wanting eyes dart over to you one more time while you refuse to meet his gaze.

“I’ll check in on you next week. Do you need me to get your car picked up?”

Your car is still broken down in the parking lot of the bar from the night before. You sigh in frustration. “Thank you for reminding me. I’ll handle it. Drive safe.”

You can’t look at the front door. You’re not too sure if it would happen, but you don’t want to risk your resolve crumbling if you get a glimpse of Chris’ face. His infuriatingly kind, tempting face.

After a long pause, you finally hear Chris pick up his keys in the entryway and the front door open. “Keep that foot elevated, will ya Doc?”

“Will do.”

Another long pause, and you hear the front door mercifully close. A moment after, an engine starting up, and a large vehicle driving away.

In the silence of your kitchen, solitary living suddenly feels suffocating. Your mind is still racing. Even after being pushed away minutes after eating you out, Chris still wants to do things for you and it makes your heart ache. As strong as your resolve is right now, you’re unsure if you’ll be able to hold out and it terrifies you.

You need distance. Not just emotionally. Physical distance. You know the solution immediately.

In a matter of minutes, you dig out the offer letter from the trash and call the number on the header. When someone finally answers, you’re cordial. Calm.

“Hello, this is Dr. Wesker. I’m calling to learn more about your transfer offer.”

In the span of an hour, your escape plan is set. Europe HQ has booked you on a red eye flight to Germany for later that evening, a work visa is expedited, your new apartment keys are waiting for you across the globe, and you're throwing everything you can't replace in Germany into a suitcase without much throught for organization.

They were surprised to hear you wanted to transfer so quickly, but they were quick to accommodate your reasonable requests. And when they asked if Captain Redfield would still be checking in with you, they were more than understanding about you wanting a local agent to look after you.

Chris Redfield always tries to save everyone.

It’s your turn to make sure you save him from yourself.

_______________________________

Thanks for reading!

#chris redfield x reader smut #chris redfield x reader #resident evil fanfiction #reader is the wife of (dead) albert wesker #reader is a former umbrella scientist #chris redfield #albert wesker #the Wife the Lover and the Bastard Son #angst #no use of y/n #domestic fluff #frenemies to lovers #no beta we die like men

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rhoorl · 7 months

Text

Working Title | Chapter 12

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Belle

Rating: Mature, 18+, for the love of all things please don’t engage if you are a minor ok?

Word Count: 4.8k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 12 on AO3

Chapter Summary: We return to the resort post-photoshoot. Indy and Belle have a girls' night, but is Dieter able to stay away?

Chapter Warnings: SMUT. Oral (m and f receiving). Allusions to intimacy issues. Ryan is his own warning at this point.

A/N: You know I'm a sucker for an alternating POV, so we get a little bit of that. This is the most explicit thing I've written to date sooo be kind as I go crawl into a hole. 😬 But honestly, I couldn't let Belle and Dieter go any longer without something spicy happening.

“Easier said than done, Lizzie. I’m just so…” he leaned closer to her and dropped his voice to a whisper, “I just don’t want to fuck it up you know?”

“You won’t. I’ve never seen you like this sweetheart, I’m really proud of you,” she patted him on the knee and then felt her phone buzz. “Ugh,” she shook her head at her phone.

“What? What is it?”

“Well, you aren’t going to be happy with me, but hear me out,” she put her hands up to pre-empt his frustration, “Maria asked if you and I could have dinner with her tonight at the resort," Dieter sighed. "I know, I know, but it's good for the story."

"Ugh, okay," he looked over to Belle, who was still fast asleep.

"It's only a couple of hours champ, you can survive I promise," she smirked.

"I know," he pouted.

You don't know how long you had dozed off, but the next thing you knew your eyes were fluttering open as the van made its way back up the path to the resort.

Dieter was on his phone when you looked over at him. He must have sensed your glance as his eyes lifted from the screen to land on your face as he gave you the sweetest smile.

When the van finally comes to a stop, everyone files out, Dieter letting Liz go first before following you.

"Did you have a good nap?" He asks as you make your way down the stairs.

"Yeah, I don't know what it is about me and moving vehicles," you chuckle.

"Hey so, I uh," he rubs the back of his neck, pulling you off to the side as Aubrey and Danny walk by. You notice Liz lingering by frantically typing away on her phone, but keeping tabs on you both out of the corner of her eyes. "Originally I had plans to take you somewhere tonight for dinner, but Liz said that Maria wants to have dinner." He looks apprehensive, unsure how you’re going to react.

"That's ok," you smile at him.

"You sure?" He was dumbfounded by your quick and simple response.

"Why wouldn't I be? You have work stuff, I understand."

He let out a breath, "You're amazing you know that?"

"For being ok with you going to a dinner?" You laugh.

"Yeah, I … I haven't…that hasn't always been the case for me."

You sense there's more under the surface, but you don't want to press it.

"Well, I'm sure Indy and I can come up with something to do. I haven't seen her much and we could use a good girls’ night."

"Oh nice, well don't have too much fun. And if you do, take pictures," he whispers the last bit in your ear as he pulls you in for a hug.

"You're ridiculous," you giggle as he kisses the top of your head.

"Indy? Are you here?" The room was quiet but you see Indy's bag on the ground so you’re pretty sure she was there.

"Babe! Ahhhh how was the rest of the photoshoot?!" She runs from her bedroom to give you a big hug. She clearly recently showered, as her hair was still wet.

"It was so good, Ind! The photographer kinda gave me the creeps and Aubrey was annoying, but Dieter … he seriously looked so good! How was your day? Did you put the leave-in conditioner in your hair just now?"

"Yes, moooom! And eeeeek! I'm so excited for you! Well, not for the creepy photographer and dumbass Aubrey. Seriously, want me to throw her in a pool at some point?" She giggles as you playfully hit her shoulder. "My day was good. They're doing some rewrites and I have a kind of sexy scene to shoot with Sam soon," she wiggles her eyebrows and shakes her shoulders.

"Well, good thing you both have been rehearsing so much. Ow!" She slaps you on the ass as you turn toward the kitchen to go get some water. "Are you guys hanging out tonight?"

"No, he actually has a really big scene tomorrow so he's calling it an early night. What about you? You and Dieter doing something fun?"

"He and Liz are actually having dinner with the reporter who’s doing the interview. He went straight there once we got back."

"Oooo so we can have a girls' night?" She grabs both of your arms and shakes you a little.

"I guess so!"

Knock.

"Are you expecting anyone?" You scrunch up your face, looking from the door to Indy.

"No, Ari has the night off." Indy saunters over to the door and looks through the peephole. She turns back to you and smiles before turning around to open the door. You start to make your way over too to see who was there.

"Hi miss, we've been asked to bring this to you." One of the resort staff was at your door with a bottle of champagne and a cart that carried two trays topped with a lid, hiding the contents of what was underneath.

"Oh, we didn't order anythin-" you start to say as Indy elbows you in the side.

"Please, come in," Indy pulls the door back and lets the man wheel in the cart.

"Would you like me to open the bottle, miss?"

"That would be great!" Indy looks over to you with an excited, but surprised expression.

The man makes quick work of opening the champagne and pours you both a glass. He sets both trays onto the kitchen island and puts the bottle in a bucket already filled with ice.

"Anything else I can help you ladies with?"

"N-no, that's great, thank you so much!" You walk him out while Indy reaches for the flutes.

Once you close the door you turn around and see Indy with a huge smile on her face. "Ind, did you order this?"

"No babe, but I know who did," she waves a little note card in the air.

You skip over to her and snatch the card out of her hand.

Hope you ladies enjoy a fun night to yourselves.

P.S. I wasn't kidding about the pictures.

"What pictures is he talking about," Indy knocks your shoulder with hers.

You tell her about the flirty exchange you had with Dieter before you both parted ways.

"Ooo, I think our boy Dee is missing you," she teases. "But we should take a photo, you know, as a thank you."

"Right, it would be the right thing to do," you wink.

"That's the spirit!"

She takes the lids off the two trays to reveal a charcuterie board on one tray and an assortment of desserts, on the other.

You arrange the trays at the corner of the kitchen island and stand to the side, ready to take a selfie. "Ok, let's take a picture with all of the stuff."

"Oh, you aren't wearing that," Indy looks you up and down. "C'mon we are having a cute night in, let's put on something fun!"

"I have a feeling you don't mean for me to put on my T-shirt and workout shorts."

Indy shakes her head. "Oh no, we've got to make Dee miss you even more than I know he already is," she winks.

"Anything else I can get you to drink sir?"

"Water is fine thanks," Dieter smiles at the waitress. He glances down to his phone for the fifth time in the last minute. He told Danny to send something up to the girls as a surprise but now his mind is going a mile a minute since he’s yet to hear from Belle.

Did Danny do it right? Of course, he did, the kid doesn't ever let me down. So why hasn't she said anything? Was it too much? I did too much. I thought it would be nice but…

"Dee?"

He looks up to see Liz and Maria staring at him. "Hmm?"

"Everything ok?"

"Y-yea sorry, thinking about a scene I have tomorrow," he tries to play it off and he thinks Maria is fooled but Liz isn’t.

Her eyes narrow a bit before she returns to her conversation about who knows what with Maria. Dieter pretends to be engaged while glancing at his phone.

Buzz.

He practically lunges at his phone, quickly unlocking it when he sees a message from Belle.

Belle: This was so nice of you, thanks for getting our girls' night off to a great start! 😘

Attached was a selfie of Indy and Belle, which Indy clearly took given the angle. She positioned the camera high above their heads with her long arm as they both looked up and smiled. Dieter was a little embarrassed at how quickly his eyes went from Belle’s face down to her body to see what she was wearing.

He tried to take a sip of his water but coughed a little the more he looked at her, tracing every curve he could see.

She had on what looked like a silky pair of pale pink sleep shorts with some lace trim at the bottom and a robe of the same color half thrown over a lacy, sheer black tank top. Her hair was down and she had a cute smirk, but it was her eyes that really drew his focus.

"Dee?"

"Um, y-yea, sorry I was waiting on a text. Just got it," he smiles. "Ah, one sec, lemme respond real quick."

"Ugh, Indy. Are you sure this isn't too much?"

"No bitch, keep drinking your champagne and stop thinking so much," she laughs as she snaps a selfie presumably for Sam.

Buzz.

Dieter: You're welcome baby. Looks like you girls are having fun

Dieter: PS … love Indy, but I feel like I'm gonna need a photo of you by yourself 😉

"See! I told you I didn't need to be in it!" Indy slaps your arm as you both giggle. "Ok, we need to position you a little for this."

You roll your eyes as Indy starts an impromptu photoshoot of you, telling you how to pose while encouraging and hyping you up.

Dieter felt a bit more settled now that he knew the surprise made it to the girls. But, he wished he could run upstairs to devour Belle instead of whatever he ordered.

Buzz

Belle: How's this?

Belle attached another photo of just herself.

Good girl, following directions.

She was kneeling on the couch with her back to the camera, looking over her left shoulder with a shy smile. Her robe was pulled down on one side, exposing her bare shoulder.

His breath hitched, surprised at how bold Belle was being, no doubt spurned on by her best friend and some liquid courage. But still, he was not complaining and started to fidget a bit in his chair, trying to discreetly adjust himself underneath the table.

"He's going to think I'm not wearing anything under the robe." You pull the strap of your tank top back up.

"That's the point, silly!"

Buzz

Dieter: wow, you're making it really hard for me to concentrate on this dinner lol

Dieter: What happened to the top you had on? I rather liked it.

"Worked like a charm," she winks at you. "Here take it off." She comes over to you and starts to pull your top off.

"Jesus Indy! What the fuck!"

"We're going to take a picture of it on the floor, not of you,” she rolls her eyes at you. “We gotta tease him a bit. C’mon, take it off.”

You take off your robe momentarily so you can remove the top, handing it over to Indy.

“Ok, what’re going to do with that?”

“Mmm…oh, I have an idea, here, come with me,” Indy takes your hands and leads you to your room.

“Ok, lay down.”

“Seriously, Indy?”

“Just do it, I have a vision.”

You roll your eyes and hop on your bed. Indy positions your legs crossed one over the other and then drapes the top on the bed next to your legs. She comes to sit next to you and takes a photo.

“Ok, aaaand… send!”

Buzz

Belle: Oh, you mean this?

Dieter leaned forward to put the phone down into his lap so Liz or Maria wouldn’t see it. He saw Belle’s bare legs crossed on what had to be her bed, with her top alongside her.

Fuuuuuck. Is she naked right now?

“Should we order some dessert, Dee?” Liz looked at him a bit confused as to what was distracting him.

“No!” He didn’t mean for that to come out as loud and forceful as it did. “Ah, I mean, no, I’m good. I’m actually getting kinda tired…busy day tomorrow.” His tight-lipped smile didn’t fool Liz, who smirked at him.

Once you send the photo, you put your top back on and go out to the living room to giggle as you snap some racy photos of Indy for Sam. You both sipped the champagne and snacked as she filled you in on some of the on-set gossip, but you couldn’t help but keep glancing at your phone, expecting a response from Dieter. As time went on, your face dropped a bit and Indy sensed your confidence dwindling.

“Don’t get in your head about it, there’s probably a good reason why he hasn’t responded.”

“You don’t think it was too much?”

“If I have to tell you no one more goddamn time I swear I’m going to smack you.”

Knock.

“Hmm…think Dee got us another bottle of champagne? We definitely don’t need it,” Indy laughs as she walks to the door to open it. “Oh, hi!”

“Hey, um is Belle here?”

You straighten up on the couch, peer over to the front door, and see a floppy mess of curls behind Indy.

“Y-yea, she’s in here,” Indy closes the door and does a little dance behind Dieter as he quickly makes his way over to you. “I’ll um…head to my room,” she winks as she grabs her glass and the bottle of champagne before retiring down her hallway.

You stand up to greet Dieter, who immediately brings you in for a hug and then starts kissing your neck.

“W-what are you doing here?” You start to whimper a bit as you feel one of his large hands move down to your ass to squeeze it as he trails kisses across your collarbone and up the other side of your neck.

“I…you…fuck you look so good baby,” he was trying to string words together between his kisses before he finally pulls back and looks you up and down. “Hmm…you put this back on, didn’t you?” He rubs his thumb along the hem of your top.

You hide your face in his chest. “Sorry, I…all of that, it was Indy’s idea.”

“And it’s the best fucking idea she’s had.” He chuckles as he moves back, grabbing your face. “You were driving me insane you know that? Could barely concentrate on dinner because I wanted to come up here and…” he trails off as he kisses you.

You deepen the kiss and pull on his sweatshirt to walk him back to your room. “W-what…hmm… what did you want to come up here and do?” You manage to get out as he nips along your jaw.

“Mmm…had lots of things in mind,” he smiles into your neck.

“Me too.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I um…there’s something I want to do.”

You make it to your room and close the door. You work his sweatshirt up and over his head, and your breath hitches when you realize he didn’t have a shirt on underneath. You look up at him and grab his face to kiss him again.

“Hey,” he pulls back, panting. “I want you to do whatever you feel comfortable with ok? We could stop right now and go to bed.”

You roll your eyes and pout, “But that would be no fun.”

He chuckles as he brings you in for another kiss, working your robe off, and letting it fall to the floor.

You turn him so his back is against the door as you work on undoing his belt buckle. Once you finally get it, you start to trail kisses down his jaw, making a point to kiss the little bare patch before working down his neck and his chest. His chest moves up and down as his breathing gets faster, as you move down his stomach. You continue to work down until you’re on your knees in front of him.

As you go to unbutton his shorts he stops you, “Hey, I wanna take care of you first, baby.”

“I…uh…but I want to.” You could feel yourself losing a bit of the nerve you had. “Please…I…uh…”

You’re cut off by Dieter who bends down to kiss you, lifting you back up so you’re standing.

“If you only knew how much I’ve been thinking about your sweet mouth,” he whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Just have fun, I’ll tell you what I like,” he smiles into your kiss.

The butterflies come flooding into your stomach as the realization of what you are about to do hits you. But Dieter seems so eager and excited, that you don’t want to lose your nerve. So you start to work your way back down again. He keeps both of his hands at his side as you take his shorts off, one of his hands twitching, itching to touch you.

You felt how excited he was earlier, but now staring at it head-on, your mouth salivates. You hook your fingers under his boxers and your mouth parts as he springs out. He looks so beautiful and confident standing bare in front of you. You look up at him through your eyelashes to see him giving you a smug smile.

You move a bit closer, licking your lips as you lightly wrap your hand around the base and slowly start to swirl your tongue along his tip, stopping to swipe at the bead of precum which makes him shiver and whimper.

“Fuck, you look so pretty baby,” he pants.

He moves one of his hands and threads his fingers through your hair, lightly resting his hand on the back of your head as you slowly take him in. He whimpers again as you slowly move him in and out. You look up at him and see his head thrown back against the wall, slack-jawed, and his eyes clenched shut. He’s trying to praise and encourage you through his panting, but it’s coming out as an incoherent mess of "oh shit" and "fuck" among other things.

You catch his eyes a few moments later as he moves his head to look down at you. The eye contact nearly sends him over the edge, his grip on your hair tightens as you keep a steady pace.

"Fuck…shit, I'm…I'm close baby, where…where can I?"

You hollow your cheeks as you move off of him, and an obscene pop sounds through the empty room.

"Wherever you want," you pant as you take him again with even more enthusiasm than before.

"Holy shit…I…keep doing that."

There was something powerful about seeing this gorgeous man reduced to a whimpering mess all because of you.

I still got it.

You always thought you were pretty good at oral, you and Indy had traded enough tips and tricks over the years to each perfect your preferred methods. But like most everything related to intimacy, Ryan wrecked it. His preferred method for receiving a blow job was ramming his dick so far down your throat that you'd choke and gag on it. He got some sick satisfaction from seeing your humiliation. Oftentimes by that point, he was close and all you needed to do was finish him off with your hand.

But with Dieter, you wanted all of him, you couldn’t get enough. As you continued bringing him in and out, you felt his thigh twitch and his grip on your hair tighten, which you surprisingly were into.

"Baby, l-look…at me," Dieter pants as you look up through your eyelashes again as you lick up the underside of his shaft. "Fuck, I'm gonna… I'm…"

You return your mouth to him as his release starts, and you're ready for it as it hits the back of your throat. Dieter is making the most obscene noises and you continue working him through until he pulls you off abruptly.

"Shit," he quickly pants. "Fuck, sorry, that was ….I'm…gonna need a second," he chuckles as he rests his head on the wall, closing his eyes and catching his breath. You take a few moments to make a mental picture of this before standing up.

You go to wipe the side of your mouth to collect the last bit of cum that escaped your lips when he opens his eyes and leans forward licking it off instead.

Your eyes go wide as he leans back against the wall. His smug smile returns before he cups your face and starts to kiss you. It becomes deeper as his tongue explores your mouth, stopping a couple of times to either slightly bite or suck on your bottom lip.

He pulls back, looking at you with a bit of desperation. "Get on the bed. Please."

With Dieter, you were trying so hard to block out all of the bad shit that you associated with sex. Because what you just did? That was fun. He makes you feel giddy, appreciated and wanted.

You smirk and saunter over to your bed sitting on the edge as you watch him walk over, his eyes black with lust.

"Move back up."

You shuffle backward onto the bed, feeling some deja vu from this morning. Except this time, you were more than willing to have Dieter do whatever he wanted.

He crawls towards you and stops, taking a moment to check in with you. Your chest moves up and down, trying to catch your breath in anticipation of what is to come.

He takes one of your feet in his hands and starts to trail kisses up from the arch up to your ankle and calf before stopping at your knee. You shiver a bit as the prickliness of his beard rubs against your skin. He puts the sole of your foot onto the bed so your knee is propped up, looking at you and licking his lips before he does the same thing to your other leg. He shuffles himself between your knees again checking in with you.

"Want me to keep going?"

You nod and he shakes his head.

"I gotta hear you, baby, tell me what you want."

"You," you pant. He's not touching you at this point but the anticipation is building.

"Want me to what?"

"I …uh … I…" You cover your eyes with your hands, a little embarrassed about saying what you want out loud.

Dieter crawls up your body, one of his hands working to uncover your face.

"Hey, don’t hide. If you want me to stop I can."

"No, I …sorry, I'm just not umm…"

"Not used to asking for what you want?"

"Yeah…that," you chuckle.

"Tell me, and if you don't want to say it then show me."

"Mmm okay. Um, I want this," you bring two fingers up to his lips, which he promptly takes the opportunity and kisses them, "here," you take your fingers off his lips and thread them between your bodies.

He pushes off to see your fingers stop over your mound, a smile coming across his face. "Yea? You sure?"

"Yes. Please."

He takes a deep breath and kisses you. "Well, since you asked so nicely," he smirks as you roll your eyes at his sarcastic tone. "I aim to please."

The trek back down your body is deliberate and slow as he presses open-mouth kisses over your top before stopping at the waistband of your shorts. He lets out a breath and looks up at you again. He hooks his fingers and starts to pull your shorts down. He licks his lips as he sees the black lacy underwear you had on. You push up on your forearms to get a better view. The image of his fluffy curls and broad shoulders between your legs is nearly enough to get you over the edge.

“You still good?”

“Mhmm…y-yea,” you smile.

“Good.”

He takes the lace off and presses kisses up and down one of your thighs as his hand caresses the other. You start to writhe in anticipation as he moves closer and closer to your core. He hooks one arm around your thigh and the other hand rests on your lower stomach.

You close your eyes and feel him lick a long stripe up, your hips buck up at the sensation.

“Fuuuuck,” you whimper, throwing your head back. Your eyes are clenched shut but you can feel him smiling as he continues to work his way around, like a man starved.

It honestly feels like you blacked out for a second, overcome by the pleasure of Dieter’s tongue. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before and you’re so overwhelmed by it all you can’t even pinpoint everything he’s doing or the sounds he’s making. All you know is that it feels amazing and you don’t want him to stop. You prop yourself up on one forearm and use your free hand to tug on his curls.

As he concentrates on your clit, you feel him press a finger inside you, which makes your hips buck up even more, but his other hand presses you back down. He continues to work you over, you can practically see stars as he hits a spot you haven’t felt a partner hit in a long time. You hoped that Indy had some headphones in because you couldn’t control the moans that came from the depths of your throat as Dieter pushed you over the edge.

He worked you down the other side of your climax, whispering praises as he kissed your thigh. You both sat silent for a moment, taking in what just happened. You couldn’t remember the last time you came from getting eaten out.

“Oh my god,” you pant. “You…you’re really fucking good at that,” you giggle as Dieter comes back up to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. You could feel him smile into your neck as you catch your breath.

“I’m glad…I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he kisses you, pushing his tongue in your mouth so you can taste yourself. “You’re amazing you know that? So fucking beautiful.”

“Yeah?” You smile into his kiss.

He pushes up to look at you, tracing his thumb down the side of your face. “Why would you think you aren’t anything less than perfect?” You turn away from him, blushing a bit as he sighs. “Ugh, try and forget him yea? I knew he was a fucking idiot before but now,” his eyes trail down your body. “But now I know it without a shadow of a doubt.”

You both kiss again, a little slower than before, taking time to explore each other. Your hands find their way back to his hair, your fingers scraping lightly along his scalp. You can feel him getting hard again as he moves his hand under your top before you pull back.

“Is…is it ok if this is all we do tonight?” You bite your lip, confused as he starts to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“We’ve done so much already!” He kisses you, still smiling. “You teased me, got me all riled up, and then I came up here and you…” his eyebrow twitched as he smirked. “All I’ve wanted is to be close to you however you’ll let me, and so I’m over the fucking moon right now.”

“Really?” he nods as he kisses you again. “Well, I am too,” you giggle as he nipped at your jaw, moving down to your neck.

You don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, you’re both under the covers, your head resting on his chest as his fingers dance through your hair.

“Can I stay here tonight?” he finally broke the peaceful silence, glancing down at you.

“Y-yea, I’d like that.”

“I think I need to bring you with me on all of my photoshoots if this is how they end,” he winks as you laugh into his chest. He brings his arms around you, his warm embrace filling your stomach with butterflies again. The last thing you remember is him kissing the top of your head before you doze off to sleep.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I had plans to write other things this week, but Dieter kept yelling at me so here I am with two Working Title updates in the same week. I can’t guarantee how quickly the next one will arrive, but hopefully, this settles a bit of the slow burn we’ve been working on. There’s part two of the photoshoot in the next chapter along with another day on set filming.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate all of the kind comments, reblogs, and likes … it makes my day!

Tag list: @musings-of-a-rose / @legendary-pink-dot / @bitchwitch1981 / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @gracie7209 / @amneris21 / @pastelnap / @maryfanson / @sunnywithachanceofjavi / @sin-djarin / @winchestergypsy90 / @for-a-longlongtime /@harriedandharrassed / @titlee78 / @midnightraain / @poodlebae / @partyofone3413 / @guelyury

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #working title fic #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo fic

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mikhailwrites · 2 months

Text

Soaring Ever Higher 4 - Ghoap/Ace Combat 7 crossover

Previous chapter | This Chapter on AO3 | Next chapter

And so, Ghost finally has a chance to make good on his promise... with some interest...

Be advised that this chapter is pretty spicy so if you mind or are a minor, I trust you'll stop reading at # symbol :)

The bar is nice and surprisingly classy, considering the city is on the smaller side. The music isn’t too loud or obnoxious; the overall noise is also bearable. Ghost lets himself enjoy it.

“What can I get you, lads?” the bartender flashes them a broad smile, not even batting an eye at Ghost’s scarred face, which is to his credit.

Trigger also doesn’t seem to mind. Once Ghost took the balaclava off, the bloke did pause on his face, but there was nothing to suggest what he thought of the map of scars. After a few seconds, he nodded and smiled as he held the door open for Ghost.

“Bourbon for me,” Ghost points at the bottle of Woodford Reserve on the shelf. The bartender nods and looks expectantly at Trigger, who seems to be scanning the shelves for something specific.

John shakes his head in mock disbelief. “And here I thought you were a cultured man,” then he turns back to the bartender, “Do you have Lagavulin 16?”

The bartender thinks for a second. “I think so, but let me check; we keep the better stuff in the back.”

Ghost chuckles. “What can I say? I’m drinking Yank stuff with a bloke flying a Yank plane. If you were a patriot, you’d be flying Typhoon like the rest of the base.”

“Somebody knows their jets,” Trigger whistles. “But last time I checked, Typhoon ain’t Scottish-made.”

Their exchange is interrupted by the return of the bartender with two glasses. Ghost says he’ll be paying for both. The price doesn’t really surprise him. “Are you getting the good stuff at my expense?” The money is no issue. He’s just interested in the reaction.

“Why, of course,” Trigger smirks, “it’s not every day I get a free drink.” He raises his glass, “Slàinte mhath.”

“Cheers,” Ghost answers the toast with his glass, sipping the bourbon, sighing in content as it slips down his throat, warming him inside out. “You think I believe you? With the free drinks? Or do you want me to feel special?”

“Right down to the business, aren’t you?” the corners of his mouth twitch. “The thing is, I don’t leave the base often. Don’t have much business outside.”

“And for pleasure?” Ghost watches him intently, noticing a minuscule twitch in John’s left hand, the way his tongue darts to wet his lips. He’s either nervous or pretends to be. Both options are intriguing, if for slightly different reasons.

“That’s complicated,” he lowers his gaze. Now that’s a good tell that he’s just pretending and luring Ghost, tickling the hunter in him by playing a helpless prey.

“It’s really not. When you boil it down, it’s always about pushing, shoving, and exchanging bodily fluids. Nothing complicated about that,” Ghost presses, shifting a little closer and putting his hand on John’s knee.

“Yer not a wooing and romance kind of lad, are ye?” Trigger takes his glass and drinks a bit more of his whisky. The smell of smoke, disinfectant and burnt tyres tickles Ghost’s nose. Christ, he could never stomach peated scotch, but the scent becomes John. It may very well be how he smells when he climbs out of his plane after a mission.

“Is that a problem?” Ghost asks with fake concern, tasting the bourbon once more.

“Didnae say that,” Trigger shakes his head, resting his hand atop Ghost’s. That’s the only permission Simon needs.

He leans closer as he speaks quietly, right into John’s ear. “I want to bend you over the counter and shag you like there’s no tomorrow."

“Damn, not even a second drink? You think I’m that cheap?” Trigger grins, and it’s all teeth and intent.

“Not cheap. I think you know what you want and usually get it. Am I close?” Ghost leans even closer. If he tried a little, his lips could brush the trimmed beard. He notices a pleasant whiff of cologne as well.

“Close enough,” Trigger admits, wiggling a little in a movement intimately familiar to anyone ever sported a stiffer in public space.

“Base or hotel?” Ghost asks, momentarily turning his attention back to the drink. There’s still about half of it left.

John understands and promptly finishes his glass before answering. “Hotel, but we need to do some shopping first.”

“Obviously,” Ghost agrees, tipping the glass back and setting it on the counter.

The moment the door of the small hotel room closes behind them, they’re on each other. John’s fingers tangle in Simon’s blonde hair where it’s long enough on top of his head, nails scraping the scalp. Simon’s lips smash against John’s; tongue, teeth, doesn’t matter. First, Simon presses John against the wall. Then the other man, despite being shorter, retaliates and shoves Ghost back, pinning him to the opposing wall and wedging his knee between Simon’s legs and up until Ghost grunts in both impatience and anticipation.

Trigger’s hands leave Simon’s head and immediately sneak under his tee, feeling him up, kneading at the hard plains of muscles.

“Fuck I love how you’re built,” John gasps between harsh breaths, tucking the tee up, uncovering inch after inch of scarred, pale flesh.

Simon grabs him by the mohawk and forces him to expose his neck. With no hesitation, he licks it with a long, broad and wet stroke before sinking his teeth in. John yelps above him, digging his fingernails into Ghost’s sides with enough strength for it to hurt.

Trigger’s pelvis also moves in a fluid, steady motion, hard-on on hard-on. It’s wild and heavenly, free of any and all troubles. Just like Ghost said back in the bar, when it comes down to it, sex is a rather uncomplicated endeavour.

Somehow, they manage to get mostly undressed and on the actual bed. Simon lies on his back with John braced above him, only heading in the opposite direction. They suck each other’s cock in a perfectly balanced ratio of giving and taking. Well, it’s a little more taking on John’s part once he finds out he can actually fuck Simon’s throat and does so with relentless vigour. Simon, however, uses the situation to his advantage, blindly grabs a bottle of lube and, without John noticing, squeezes some on his fingers before he presses them against his hole. Two at first, and he’s about as gentle about it as Trigger’s cockhead is to his throat.

John gasps and groans at the intrusion, but Ghost sucking him feels too good for him to withdraw. He takes those fingers just like he takes Simon’s prick, at least what he can actually fit into his mouth.

Soon enough, the stretch starts to feel good, and he moves back further to have more. He’s close and feels the orgasm building between his prick and his balls. He lets the cock fall from his mouth to slobber nearly unintelligible “’M close.”

Simon grabs his ass and helps him thrust deeper. He’ll have an even raspier voice for days; he knows it, yet doesn’t care. His airways are momentarily blocked, but he expected it. John grunts and then changes the rhythm to senseless rutting as he nears his peak. Simon adds another two fingers and wedges them in by force, knowing the pleasure and the tension of impending orgasm will numb the pain, morphing it into something else entirely.

John cries out, his voice breaking, and he thrusts one last time as he comes down Ghost’s throat in powerful pulses.

Simon barely lets him have a few seconds before manhandling him, throwing him off of himself and onto the mattress face-down. Once more, he reaches for the lube, slicks his prick and slides into John’s now pliant and lubed-up hole. John moans, hypersensitive and surprised, but he doesn’t move.

“Fuck yes,” Simon growls as he starts thrusting. Fast and deep, he’s way past caring. Bracing himself on John’s shoulder blades, he enjoys the hard body beneath all the more as he knows the other man could stand his ground easily. He could fight Ghost if he wanted to, and even though he wouldn’t probably win, it would be a good fight. And he shags him like that, too. With none of the gentleness and all of the respect.

John grunts and huffs beneath him, the discomfort clear in his voice, but eventually, he starts jerking his hips to meet Simon’s thrusts. His back glistens with sweat, scars starkly pale on the tanned skin. Ghost leans down and tastes the salt and musk—breathes Trigger in as he regains his focus and slows the thrusts to savour this.

Simon drags his fingers through the mohawk, grabbing a fistful of hair barely long enough to get a hold of. He lifts John’s head from the bed and motivates him with a firm tug to look over his shoulder. John’s face is flushed, his lips slick with saliva, his eyes searing despite their colour.

“That all ye’ve got, Si?” Trigger taunts, smirking. His brow furrows, and his mouth forms a pretty “O” when Ghost answers the challenge with a backstab of the pleasurable kind.

Simon can feel the tension inside him rising. The fast, punishing pace he’s set does nothing to stave it off, and he doesn’t even try to fight it. His breath is ragged and Simon groans every time he bottom out. So close…

And then it’s here, rolling over him, dragging him under as his whole body locks for a moment before the muscles seize and his heartbeat thunders in his ears. Simon collapses on top of John. It’s bloody uncomfortable, all hard muscles and hot, sweaty skin, but he barely even registers any of it.

In about ten seconds, his brain reboots, yet he still doesn’t move. Instead, he nuzzles against short hair and the mohawk. Trigger sighs; it sounds content and peaceful, so Simon continues rubbing his stubbly cheek against the trimmed hair.

“Yer a good weighted blanket, Simon,” the Scot says quietly, but there’s mirth in his voice—an almost fond edge.

Ghost hums. He wouldn’t mind staying like this longer, but the discomfort is only worsening. Eventually, Simon rolls off of John, but seeing as the other man didn’t complain so far, he grabs him and squeezes him in a firm hug. He basks in the closeness as he buries his face in the nape of John’s neck.

“Not that I��m complaining, but I haven’t pegged you for a cuddler… ‘s nice surprise,” Trigger speaks again, squeezing Simon’s hands where they hold onto him and presses even further into him.

They drift off like that, because shower can wait, and they wouldn’t be in the military if they couldn’t stand being occasionally gross and disgusting.

I have way too many screenshots, here, have some Eurofighter Typhoon.

#I so enjoy their dynamic #Johnny playing coy is mood #Simon Riley - the weighted blanket #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #ghoap #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #ace combat #ace combat 7

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ghostofthemost141 · 4 months

Text

Serene

Chapter 7

Gif credit to @simonghostrileys

Ch.1. Ch.2. Ch.3. Ch.4. Ch.5. Ch.6.

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish xF!Reader

Word Count: 2,981

About: You were on vacation to the beach and you think you're about to die when you're caught in a riptide until an unlikely hero, your now boyfriend, comes to your rescue. Precisely a Scottish man that bores a tail. And now, the secret is out. Kind of.

!Warnings!: Some Spicy Stuff for y'all to feast on but nothing explicit

Italics means Third Person POV

Notes: First post into the new year! I hope everyone had a good transition into the new year. Enjoy!

Taglist: @darling006

Johnny immediately pulled away from you and held you close to him as you both saw who approached y’all.

“I see how it is.” Your professor muttered, staring at both Johnny and you.

Johnny held you close as he could feel your heart race increase and your anxiety peek up. He knew immediately that this was your professor. The professor who has been giving you problems and harassing you.

“Go away, wanker.” Johnny growled, holding you close to him.

Graves just laughed, amused by what was going on.

“You skip my class to go and see your little boy toy, Dove?”

“Stop, go away.” I said, trying to make him leave.

I knew he wasn’t intimidated by me, but I hope he got the message at least.

“You heard her. Get the fuck away.” Johnny growled, using his muscles as a shield for me.

“I was just wondering as to why one of my students was out today.” Graves tried to innocently say, but I knew his inner intention.

You just wanted your professor to go away and leave you and Johnny alone. Meanwhile, Johnny was ready to plummet him into next year and to make sure to do some permanent damage. He was ready to protect you and be your savior when you wanted him to. And even though you didn’t verbally say it, he knew you were wanting to be protected at this very moment.

“Well, I hope to see you in class tomorrow then, Dov-”

“Leave. Now.”

Your professor finally took the hint, smirked at both of y’all and walked away. Johnny kept his eyes on him until he was totally out of sight.

“Lass, are you alrigh’?” Johnny asked me.

“Y-Yeah. I just..” I paused, not really understanding what just happened.

“I will not let him hurt ya, I promise.” Johnny reassured me, rubbing my arm in reassurance.

“I know. I just wish he would leave me alone.” I say.

“Your uncle and I got ‘ou. I promise.” Johnny swore, making me look up at him.

You looked up into Johnny’s bright blue eyes. You knew he meant it just by looking into his eyes. They were full of promise and reassurance. You knew you could count on Johnny.

“Okay.”

“Let’s get the hell out of here. See if your uncle needs some help.” Johnny suggested.

“Yeah, I agree.” I said.

Johnny helped you to your feet and suddenly grabbed you, lifted you up, and carried you to your car.

“Johnny!” I yelled out jokingly, as he held me upright and then switched to were he was holding me bridal style.

I wrapped my hands around his neck to keep myself upright.

“Don’t want me princess gettin’ dirt in her shoes.” Johnny said, beaming a smile at me.

You felt your heart start racing, just feeling all of Johnny’s love for you in this one little action. Eventually both you and Johnny made it back to your car and he still insisted on driving for you. During the drive back to your home, Johnny jammed out to whatever music was on your preferred station. You were kind of surprised he liked this type of music, or he was just doing it to humor you, but both of you jammed out to the music on the station up until Johnny parked in your driveway.

“Oh my aunt is home.” I say, seeing her car in the driveway as well.

“Is she nice?” Johnny asked.

“Yes, very much so. She isn’t as protective as Ale, but she is getting there.” I half joke.

“Good to know.” Johnny said as he got out of the car.

You waited for Johnny to walk around and open the door for you. You were about to step down when Johnny, quick as a flash, picked you up and held you bridal style once again.

“It’s my house, Johnny.”

“Don’t care. I want your aunt and uncle to see how much I love ya.” Johnny said, smooching your cheek.

Johnny shut the car door with his broad shoulder and carried you inside.

“We’re home!” I announce as Johnny walks in, while still holding me.

From the kitchen, both Ale and Remi whipped around to see who it was, both of them immediately painting a smile on their faces.

“Welcome back, kiddos.” Ale said as Johnny finally let me down on my feet, but ever so gently.

“Hey Dove!” Remi greeted me, her eyes immediately going wide upon seeing Johnny.

“Is this the guy?” She whispered, Ale’s eyes going comically wide upon hearing that.

“¿Qué diablos quiere decir con eso?[What the hell does she mean by that?]” Ale asked, half joking.

“Leave her alone, Ale. She just told me she was meeting up with a guy she met. That’s all.” Remi wacked Ale with a hand towel as she said that.

It made both of us laugh, with me secretly hoping that would be Johnny and I one day.

“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Johnny.” Johnny approached Remi, sticking his hand out in greeting.

“I’m Remi, Ale’s girlfriend. Nice to meet ya.” Remi shook Johnny’s hand.

“Feelin’s mutual, ma’am.” Johnny said.

“Your man’s got some manners, Dove.” Remi commented.

“Only the best.” I joke as Johnny wrapped his arm around me.

“Do y’all need some help?” Johnny offered both Ale and Remi.

“We are good, hermano, but thank you.” Ale thanked him, “show him around Dove. Make yourself at home, Johnny.”

“Thank you, sir.” Johnny thanked him.

“Well,” I said, realizing I never formally showed him around,, “let me show you around.”

“And you know this room.” I said as we both entered my room, with Johnny quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Nice, nice.” Johnny joked as if he was seeing my room for the first time.

I sat down on my bed as Johnny intensely stared at all of the knick knacks that were in my room as well as all of the posters I had of my favorite bands.

“This one of your favorite bands?” Johnny asked, seeing the third poster of the same band.

“Oh yeah, they are. Have you ever heard of them?” I ask.

“No, I haven’t but I will give them a listen for you.”

Johnny smiled big at you as he said that. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“I have some records there if you wanna pick something out to play.” I suggest.

“Your parents won’t mind?”

I shook my head in response. Johnny then bent down to go through my record collection that was in my bookshelf. He eventually picked one that just so happened to be my favorite album from my favorite band.

“Good pick.” I say as he slid the record into the turntable, carefully picking up the pick and letting it fall onto the record, the oh so nostalgic static starting to play.

Once the music started, Johnny started tapping his foot to the beat, eventually starting to break down dance. The dancing was awful but it put a big smile on your face, as well as giggling.

“You look silly.” I joke.

“Oh do I now?”

Johnny then started even more terrible breakdown dancing, jumping up and down, doing the wobble, a terrible version of the worm, and much much more which made you laugh so hard that your stomach hurt. You had no idea as to why Johnny was being so silly to the point of making you die of laughter, but you were enjoying it. Johnny loved to see you smile, and even more so see you laugh, even if he was making a fool out of himself. Out of nowhere, Johnny locked eye contact with you and jumped on top of you, pinning you to the bed with him on top.

“Johnny! Ah!” I cry out, feeling his entire body weight on top of me.

“Oi, am I too heavy for ya?” Johnny remarked.

“No, I just didn’t expect you to do that.” I said, perfectly content in the position we were in right now.

Johnny looked down at you, his same old, but beautiful blue eyes looking down at you into yours. You felt your heart start racing, realizing the very intimate position you both were in. The same warm feeling you kept getting from Johnny returned and it rapidly spread throughout your body, making you flustered. Johnny leaned in and placed his lips onto yours, deepening the kiss quickly. His tongue grazed over your lips, sending chills down your spine. You wanted it to go even further but there was one problem with that.

“Johnny, my uncle and aunt.” I said, pulling away from the kiss.

Johnny smirked at you as he turned to gaze at the record that was still playing on the turntable.

“They won’t ‘ear a dang thing, Dove.” Johnny remarked, “but if you wanna wait then I will wait.”

“No.” I say, making Johnny look at me with some shock.

“No as in?”

“I want to go further with you, Johnny. I wish my uncle and aunt weren’t here for that very reason.” I confessed.

You could tell Johnny liked that response by the smile-smirk he had plastered on your face. Johnny didn’t say anything as he leaned down once again, planting a deep kiss onto your lips. You felt Johnny push his tongue through your lips, wanting access to your mouth.

“Johnny.” You moan as Johnny manages to push his tongue through your lips.

Johnny ran his tongue throughout your mouth, causing you to run your fingers into his mohawk. Your fingerprints began to memorize how his hairline was, where his hawk was at and how long it was, how his buzz cut on the sides felt, you memorized it all as you both continued to makeout for the first time ever. You felt Johnny attempt to suck on your tongue, making you gasp out of surprisement. It was definitely a weird feeling but it felt so good. You felt Johnny start to run his hands all over your body. Down your hips, over your stomach, your thighs, chest, everywhere as if he was doing the same thing you were doing with his mohawk. The tension got hotter and heavier. You felt Johnny run his hands back over your chest, pulling his lips away from you but still leaning in close to you.

“Is this okay, lass?” Johnny asked me.

You knew what he was asking, and you honestly felt so honored that he was. Flashbacks were trying to cloud your mind of Craig and what he had done to you, but you pushed them away for this was Johnny here with you, not Craig.

“Yes.”

You granted your consent to him. Johnny leaned back down to kiss you again as he started passionately massaging your chest. It sends vibrant, warm chills down your spine, feeling his big, but soft hands massaging your plumps of flesh. Despite being in the sea for most of his life, you could tell he has gentle hands. It was then that you felt his hands run under your shirt, feeling his skin on your bare stomach. It made you have a knee jerk reaction.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Johnny immediately apologized to me.

“No, no it’s not you, Johnny. I promise.” I reassured him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Just not..used to this.” I told him.

“I’m sorry, Dove. I don’t eva want you to feel those bad things ever again with meh.” Johnny reassured me, caressing my face softly.

“I know.”

“We go at your pace, lass. I’ll wait forever if you want me to.” Johnny half joked which made you smile.

You knew he was only joking to lighten your mood up but you knew he sincerely meant it despite being in a joking matter. Despite how you were feeling, you did not want him to stop.

“Am I pretty to you, Johnny?”

“The prettiest gal in the whole universe.”

“Are you sure?” I question.

Johnny then leaned down and peppered your face with kisses as well all over your exposed skin, your arms, hands, fingers, legs, and stomach. It was all done chastely, with no hidden meaning other than he just wants to show his love for you.

“Maybe we can get a hotel later?” I suggested.

Johnny gave me a toothy smile as I said that.

“Maybe~”

Johnny’s voice dropped an octave as he said that, making chills go down your spine. You were completely smitten with him and wanted so much more with him that-

*KNOCKKNOCK*

Quick as a flash, Johnny jumped off of you and made himself position near your records as if he was going through them still.

“Yes?” I call out.

“You two, dinner is ready.” Uncle Ale’s voice came from the other side.

“Okay coming!” I call out.

Without even opening the door, your uncle turned and walked away from the door, heading back to the kitchen.

“I’m surprised he didn’t open the door.” Johnny comments.

“I am too. Maybe he trusts me now.”

“He better.” Johnny retorted as he got back up, pecking your lips.

“Let’s head down there.”

“Okay.” Johnny gleamed a smile at me as he said that.

Johnny sat too close to you, trying to avoid even spilling the tiniest of water onto himself. You figured your uncle and aunt would have some pop or even wine to offer but tonight, on the drink menu, was plain water which wasn’t good. You tried to reassure him by rubbing his thigh from under the table, but you could feel his entire nervous system skyrocketing. But he sure as hell wasn’t showing it.

“So are you from Scotland, Johnny?” Ale asked Johnny.

“Yes, sir. Born and raised there.” Johnny answered, snacking on the plate of dinner they made.

Johnny could barely eat, seeing as his nerves were skyrocketing due to the possible water contamination. Just one drop, one tiny meansly drop, would ruin everything.

“When do you move to America?” Remi asked him.

“Years ago. When I was a wee little lad, but me parents had such thick accents that it stuck with me.” Johnny lied.

I could tell Johnny wished that was real, and it showed in his softened gaze but Ale and Remi didn’t notice.

“What was-”

Remi was interrupted by her hand bumping her glass of water. The glass shot forward, and hit the table harshly, causing the glass to shatter. It all happened so quickly that Johnny didn’t have any time to move away from the water. Two droplets splashed onto him, one on his hand and one on his forehead. As fast as the water splashed onto him, was as fast as Johnny collapsed onto the ground, immediately hiding himself underneath the table.

“Hermano are you-”

“Ale wait!!”

You tried to stop your uncle from looking but it was too late. Your uncle laid eyes on an unconscious Johnny, who bored a big tail where his legs used to be. Ale mumbled in shock, which then caused your aunt to look and she too mumbled in shock.

“Estrella.” Ale started, making my heart race.

I looked up at my uncle, afraid of what he was going to say or do. Instead, his eyes were full of concern. Same with Remi. They both were concerned, but not in the way that I thought it would be.

“Should we..put him in the bathtub?” Remi asked.

“I..don’t know. I never..” I mumbled, feeling myself get anxious from worry.

I could tell Johnny knocked himself out when his head hit the chair as he was going down so God knows how long it would be till he woke up. I bent down to see if there was any bleeding and luckily there wasn’t.

“I’ll go start the water.” Remi announced as she scurried to the bathroom.

I could feel tears of guilt and shame start to build up in my eyes.

“I’m sorry Ale I didn’t..” I broke down into sobs, feeling guilty for not only keeping this from them, but also hurting Johnny in the process.

“Hey, hey easy, Dove.” Ale reassured me as he came and hugged me tightly.

I hugged him back, crying into his chest.

“Frankly, I don’t know how this is humanly possible but we will get through it okay? I am sure he is okay. You can trust your tío and tía. Okay? We won’t tell anyone.” Ale promised me.

You knew your uncle meant that promise. You were just scared on what was going to happen next.

“Tub is full.” Remi announced as she came back into appearance.

“Bueno.” Ale mumbled as I let go, ready to help them with Johnny.

Ale grabbed his upper area, while you and Remi grabbed his lower area as well as his big tail. The three of you carefully carried Johnny to the bathroom and gently sat him into the tub, the water slightly splashing from his body hitting the water. Johnny looked peacefully sleeping in the water, his tail resting on the ring rim of the tub. You bent down and rubbed his forehead as if to let him know I was still right here.

“He’ll be okay, estrella.” Ale reassured me.

“I hope.” I said.

Ale was going to say something when the doorbell rang, indicating someone was there.

“I’ll get that.” Ale announced, leaving the bathroom.

Remi then bent down onto her knees and sat next to me, examining Johnny.

“He has a beautiful tail, Dove.”

I chuckled.

“Yes he does. It was the first thing I noticed about him.” I say, not taking my eyes off of him.

“How did y’all meet?” She asked.

“He saved me from drowning when Gem, Pixie and I were on vacation.” I answer.

“That’s awesome, Dove.”

“What the fuck are you doing here, cabrón?” Ale’s voice bellowed from the living room.

Shit..

TO BE CONTINUED…

#cod #callofduty #call of duty #cod modern warfare #ghostofthemost141 #cod x reader #modern warfare x reader #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #alejandro vargas #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x you #serene fic

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theonethatyaks93 · 5 months

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Huge Announcement!! (I'm Taking Animaniacs/Pinky and The Brain Fic Requests!) (Please Read for Information!)

Hello to all my Animaniacs friends and Pinky and The Brain acquaintances!!! After much consideration and a 5-month-long hiatus from fanfiction writing, I've decided that it's time to get back on it! I have multiple Pinky and The Brain fanfics being planned out right now, but while I compose more things for you (including the next chapter of "When He Loved Me" which is back by popular demand), I want to announce something to all of you that I hope will go over well.

With the Animaniacs reboot concluding earlier this year, and the fandom slowly winding its way down the obscurity route, I wanted to do something to keep the fandom chugging. I've actually wanted to do this for a few months, but now seems like a great time to start this little idea. So I've decided:

I'm Going To Start Taking Requests for Fanfics Here On Tumblr!!!

That's right!!! You guys will have the opportunity to submit fanfic ideas/prompts to me that you've always wanted to see in the community. I'm going to be making a second blog, where I will be accepting requests for fanfics and will be posting them onto Tumblr directly. I will also make these prompts available on AO3 in a compilation fic where I will also be mentioning the ask in the notes. I want to mainly focus on Brinky, Yax, and of course, the Warner Siblings and their dynamic. The blog will (maybe) be titled NarftasticFicRequests (TBD as official name) and I will be accepting both Pinky and The Brain, and Animaniacs writing ideas. I think that this is a great prompt to encourage me to write and to keep these fandom spaces alive and well. I don't have the intro ready yet for the new blog, heck I haven't made the new blog yet, but wait to see it pop up in the next few weeks. However, while the introduction hasn't been made, I am going to set down a few ground rules/boundaries here right now:

There will be absolutely NO 18+ content allowed. There are a ton of fics out there with mature labels that you can find; you don't have to look hard. I do not feel comfortable writing that stuff yet. Don't ask for smut of any kind because you will not get it, I guarantee that. The farthest I'm willing to go is deep kissing (i.e. tongue) but I'm only willing to do that for Pinky and Brain exclusively, since it doesn't seem to bother the fandom that much. I WILL NOT do that stuff for Yakko and Max because it doesn't sit well with me since they are so young. If deeper, more aggressive kissing is involved in Brinky fics, the tag: mildly spicy mice, will be used to indicate this. It won't be in every fic, I promise. :)

2. NO WARNERCEST REQESTS!!! That will get you promptly banned off of both my blogs for the foreseeable future. I HATE THIS SHIP SO MUCH THAT IT HURTS. This also ties into the no 18+ content label mentioned earlier. Do not ask for this.

3. Fic requests may take up to a week or more to complete. It will depend on the ask itself and the story ideas I compile together. I'm very busy with other life things and stresses that it will be difficult to find the time to work on these. I will optimize weekends for fic writing to my best ability, but I will let you guys know if I'm taking a break. When I'm taking a short break, the ask box will be closed temporarily, but it will be re-opened.

4. Other ships such as Billie x Julia, Wakko x Louie Duck, and Dark Pinky x Future Brain will be accepted if you request them. If these take longer to make, it's going to be because I haven't written for these ideas before and I will need time to make sure everything is done decently. I'm also accepting AU ideas such as gender-swaps (I have a really good idea if y'all want to see a gender-swapped Pinky and Brain) . However, parody ideas will be extremely risky to request since if I haven't seen the material, I can't make the parody and if I have seen it, I might make a whole fic based on it rather than just a simple one-shot.

5. If your request takes longer to complete, it's likely because I am working on a fic for AO3, most likely my Christmas/Winter fics, or a tedious multi-chapter. Don't think I've abandoned your request; I will get to you ASAP after I'm done with whatever project I'm on.

6. Certain things that are banned from the askbox: mean comments, smut requests, Warnercest, non-Animaniacs/PaTB requests, harassment of other individuals. Certain ships, such as Warnercest and Brain x Julia will not be allowed either due to personal and emotionally scarring reasons.

7. Last thing: Enjoy it!!! Make requests that are angsty, silly, fluffy, sad, or happy! Think about what you've always wanted to see in a fanfic, or an idea that you would enjoy seeing my take on. Just make sure to follow my rules and boundaries so we can all enjoy this as a fandom.

I'm really excited to get this started!!! It will take a while to put everything together. Stay tuned for an announcement that the blog is up and that you can start submitting requests. Look out for the new blog as well, and the intro post that'll contain the official rules and a little more about the blog. Once again, I'm extremely ecstatic to start taking your requests, and I might even post non-requests on the blog as well. I know this might seem a little late since the reboot is over, but I sincerely pray that this new blog can continue to keep the Animaniacs/PaTB fandom alive, at least for a little while longer. I hope that you guys get some ideas for requests while this new second blog takes shape. Hoping it'll be up by the end of next week. Fingers-crossed that this ideas doesn't blow up in my face!!! See y'all soon!!!! Narf!!!

-theonethatyaks93

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #animaniacs fanfiction #get those requests ready!!!#more updates to come soon as I get the blog ready #please do not request fics on my main blog wait until I get my second blog out #that being said get ur requests ready!!! im excited to be contributing more to the fandom space #hope everyone enjoys this idea!!!

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queen-of-writing-bad-things · 2 months

Text

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 5

Episode 14: My Dinner With Bigfoot (SMUT)

*hola, amigos, we have a little sprinkling of smut throughout the chapter.

Oh, yeah, this is gonna be spread out since variety is the spice of life. don't do stuff in the woods though. you will get arrested in real life. HAVE FUN!

for the less corrupted amongst us, there are some slightly spicy scenes towards the middle that aren't too bad, followed by genuine smut so look out for the warnings since we'll be going in and out of mature content*

Friday night, date night. Or at least it was supposed to be.

Things had been busy lately. Since the loss of the fifth and sixth Man Cave, there had been a lot of baloney about sorting stuff out. That new Man Cave smell was nice but it was so formal and stiff, not the kind of thing you wanted for your home, so Ray and (y/n) had made good on their promise to each other.

Not the new wardrobe thing, although Ray did take his sweet girl out shopping one afternoon and returned carrying fourteen bags just to rival every other man in the mall who was following their wife or girlfriend around like a lovesick puppy.

Every surface. No joke. That's what he'd whispered in her ear, so that's what they'd done, desecrating their new bed as well as the shower, the guest shower, a few walls, the hall, the couch, the computer's chair, the kitchen and the tubes. Animals.

Things were back to normal, which meant a quiet night in was needed with the two of them and a bottle of red. No funny business, that's what Ray had said, not because he didn't love fucking her whenever and wherever but because after getting scolded by Schwoz for leaving evidence strewn across the Man Cave, he decided they needed to dial it back a bit.

And that had led to them enjoying a very fine evening in their room, nothing lewd or suggestive, just the two of them curled up on the floor with a blanket next to a TV with a looped video of a fireplace on the monitor. It was a bit corny as they sipped their wine and giggled when it went to their heads, laughing when Ray fed (y/n) a strawberry and booped her nose.

It was cute and there wasn't stuff. Ray had told Schwoz there wouldn't be and that's how it was staying. That was the plan, anyway.

"You know what this reminds me of?" the man mumbled as he watched his lover swirl the blood-red liquid in her glass before putting it down to focus on his words. He was languishing against a half-moon of pillows, arms stretched along the row and his legs spread in front of him so she could shuffle closer, curl into his side and rest her head against his chest.

"What?"

"The first time I took you out to dinner..." he said softly and tucked a loose strand of her behind her ear when it fell from her lowering her gaze shyly. It was a bit weird, he knew that this was nothing like the first time he took her out to dinner, whether it be they were "friends" or lovers.

"What? You do know that we weren't sitting on the floor or alone in your bedroom on either occasion," (y/n) giggled, sitting up so she could look at him properly and possibly sneak a sip from the wine glass he raised to his lips, even though she had her own.

God, her younger self would kill to know what her future held and would've died and gone to heaven at the idea of her best friend pulling her into his lap so their faces were at the same level, his hand on her bare thigh, fingers grazing under her dress innocently as he pecked her lips.

"I know, but it feels the same. But this time, you're not my friend or my girlfriend...you're my wife," Ray grinned and tilted his head forward to catch her lips once more in a slow, sloppy, uncoordinated dance that was enough to set a fire alight in (y/n)'s core. Her hips shifted and tilted to press against his clothed cock, which was barely hard, merely twitching with slight interest as his jeans gave her a glimpse of pleasure.

They shouldn't--couldn't, she knew that. This was meant to be relaxing, a chance for them to catch up with clothes on but she couldn't help it. Call her crazy after the Christening of The Cave as it had come to be known but she wanted him. She always had and it was that which convinced her.

Until the taste of wine became sharp and sour on her tongue and she remembered that her past self never had to contend with tipsy Ray.

"Doofus..." she giggled, pulling away from his lips, although she remained firmly on his lap, clit pulsating against the rough coolness of his zipper, "I think someone has had a little too much wine...I'm not your wife yet."

"You should be...you're so pretty and smart. My sweet girl..." he mumbled and dragged his thumb over her bottom lip as he pouted at the thought of yet more waiting. He pouted even more when she took his wine glass from his hand, the one that had been dangerously close to tipping its contents all over them as he lost himself in her honey taste, and placed it next to hers away from the blanket.

No spillages, thank you. Instead, the chilled Pinot was left to go lukewarm as her hands returned to his shoulders to keep him pushed against their pillow next and his eyebrows twitched at the sudden change in the atmosphere.

He could feel it; the way she looked at him, the way her thighs trembled when his grip slid to her waist and how her weight seemed to shift to press against him at the right angle and make him stiffen.

"I know what we can do in the meantime," (y/n) smirked and slotted her mouth against his, expecting him to play right into her hands and remap his territory with his typical vigour. Ray loved pinning her down, ravishing her, taking what he wanted, especially when he was given such a tempting invite, so it was a surprise when he pulled away.

"No, sweet girl, what did we say?" the man growled and held her away from him by wrapping a gentle hand around her throat. He didn't squeeze, it just rested there as a reminder that despite his reluctance to spread her out and have his fill, he was very much in charge. However, it didn't stop her from whining and rocking her cunt against him once as a protest.

"But--"

"No buts. I promised Schwoz that we just having a quiet dinner in a room, nothing that will cause him any grief," she huffed at the name of the genius, who right now was the enemy since it was his complaint that meant his free hand was clutching her pelvic bone to keep her still.

So what if he found her bralette on top of the microwave? It was nothing he hadn't seen before but apparently, finding the matching panties hanging from a monitor in the main room was the final straw. Whoops.

"So? We'll just have to be extra careful next time we fuck in front of the TV," the heroine giggled, drawing another growl from his lips as he casually pressed butterfly kisses to her jaw. There wasn't gonna be the next time, not if he could help it, no matter how irresistible the offer was, but he figured a peck or two couldn't hurt.

"Needy little girl..."

"And besides. What we do in our room isn't up to Schwoz. If he finds something in here, then it's his fault, not mine when I want you to fuck me in our bed, in our bedroom, with the door shut," she whispered hotly into his ear, biting the lobe as she made her point and began grinding her clothed pussy into his lap, where he was getting undeniably hard from her begging.

Her dress was flimsy, thin and the sort of garment he didn't like to see her walk outside in just because she looked as if she could freeze to death at any moment, in any weather. But she didn't intend to walk away, not when she had him to keep her warm and the delightful friction between her legs, which had perfect access in the dress he hated to love.

But even he couldn't resist bunching her dress around her thighs and pushing it up to her belly button, revealing the lacy panties she'd put on underneath. Fuck him, they were soaked, sliding over his painfully hard cock that throbbed at the sight of her rutting against him--a show only for him.

He wasn't going back on his word, he was just looking with hooded eyes. Nothing wrong with that.

"But I'm not gonna fuck you, darlin'. Not here, not tonight. Not after someone else got to see your panties and I had to collect them," the hero told her firmly, swallowing the lump in his throat when she wailed and sagged against him. The look in her eyes suggested mutiny as if he'd betrayed her in the worst way as her hips kept moving--almost madly now that he'd said that.

He'd be a liar if he said the thought of pushing into her wet little hole didn't make him want to cream his pants, he could tell from the mess she was making that she was desperate despite them being very...active over the past few days. But that was the problem, she wasn't there when a mortified Schwoz handed over a pile of freshly laundered underwear whilst wearing rubber gloves with him as the equally mortified recipient.

"Wha---Ray, that's not fair! I need it--want your cock so bad! Can't you see how wet I am?" she whined, pulling at his shirt like a petulant child who couldn't get her way. Her fingers snaked to cup her mound, where she gathered an embarrassing amount of slick that had seeped through the lace on two fingers. Even through his jeans, she could make out the head of his cock straining against the denim and her mouth dropped open when it poked and teased her entrance.

"Which is why you're going to get yourself off like this. Rubbing your pretty clit and begging me for more, so come on. Make yourself cum," Ray challenged, giving her a hard stare, which she shrank under. He wasn't gonna--huh?

She could do as he asked, with him talking so filthily in her ear, it was easy but what she desired was so close. It didn't make sense that he'd sit there and torture himself like that when it would be so easy to unzip his pants and free his cock, let her bounce on it a little until they were both falling apart. And yet here he was, gazing down at her so cockily as his hands started to pull her hips back and forth.

"But I want to ride and cum on your cock, like I did on the couch--wanna feel you so deep inside--" she muttered squeakily as her hand went inside her panties and began circling her clit in a figure of eight. He seemed pleased with how she carried out his barked orders and fondled her tit through her dress as she did until her stupid mouth got her into trouble for being bratty.

"What did I say, little one? You'll take whatever I do or don't give you and endure. I want you to cum like this," he replied harshly and the hand that had been pinching at her nipples left them alone to smack her ass harshly, causing her cunt to brush against his cock deliciously. A hiss left his lips and as much as he wanted to take care of her, was suddenly, selfishly starting to wish that he could fill her up.

This was yet another part of his game and she loved playing it no matter how frustrated she became when the stimulation on her throbbing bud wasn't enough. Poor thing, she had it too easy, thinking she would get fucked every time her pussy started aching, but he had to teach her that bad girls don't get what they want.

"Please..." she pleaded, nuzzling her head under his jaw and kissing his pulse point in a bid to get as close to him as possible. Maybe if she reminded him that she was his good girl, his sweet girl, his cute, innocent future wife, he'd give in.

"No..." he growled, refusing to touch her any more than he already was; hands on her ass, tits and waist, lips nibbling at her neck, no more. It added to her frustration when he let groaned lowly in the back of his throat, no doubt kicking his orgasm away as she teetered on the edge of hers.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can't--please!" (y/n) begged. No matter how hard she tried, how quickly she rubbed, how deeply she ground, her release was always out of reach, running away as soon as she chased it and only he had what she needed to grasp it.

Again, he denied her, helping her movements against him as if that was any help. The only real thing he did was seize the top of her panties between his two fingers and thumb before ripping the elastic. The lace was shredded, useless and able to peel away easily from her figure after that, meaning her cunt was bare and free to ruin his pants as she wished, even if the increased friction was laughable.

"Fuck, you're soaked, sweetheart. This all for me? This the hole you want fucked?" he asked mockingly as his fingers finally stroked through her velvety slick, causing her mouth to fall open and her pussy to move against them greedily. A fingertip breached her hole and she screamed, hands balling his shirt as one digit slid into her and then another straight away.

Her head nodded weakly as she sobbed at finally having something to clench around but it was nowhere near enough. Not when she was used to stretching around his girth as he pounded the life out of her.

"More--please--need your--cock--"

"How many times, filthy girl? I'm not fucking you right now, you can cum on my hand," Ray tried to remain firm, scissoring his fingers to try and make them feel bigger. Honestly, he didn't care about Schwoz, it was his Man Cave, he'd fuck his fiancée wherever he liked but it provided a good excuse to tease her and drag their date out a little more.

He loved her like this and had planned to woo her, bed her, make love to her during the evening, forgetting his promise to Schwoz. Although, he didn't expect to be quite like this.

"But--but you could fuck me, fuck my pussy...anywhere," his fingers stilled inside her and his eyes met hers with a steely gaze, causing her to carry on with needy confidence, "you said you would and you still haven't. Captain, why haven't you fucked my ass yet?"

The effect was instantaneous and better than she could have ever imagined. Ray's hand was ripped from her cunt and she whined at that, only to whimper when he roared and pushed her to the blanket roughly. Within seconds, he was swiftly crawling up her body whilst simultaneously fumbling to free his weeping member, which was straining after that suggestion.

That had been pushed to the back of their minds, on the table but ignored for now since they'd never had enough time to do it safely and properly but that didn't mean he wasn't desperate to try it. He still wanted to see her every hole claimed, sated and owned by him, so her teasing rose the beast within him that wanted her on all fours for him to see.

"You're so bad--bad fucking girl. My girl," he grumbled in her ear as she braced herself on her hands and knees, skirt flicked over her ass, and looked back to see his perfect, glorious cock pulled from his zipper. He was leaking, an angry-red colour and bobbing deliciously as he hissed from the cool air; it was clear that he couldn't be bothered to properly take off their clothing, not after she'd said that.

"I'm gonna fuck this pussy so hard and then, if you're lucky, I might start practising stretching this hole out, ready for my--" Ray rambled, letting himself get lost in the fantasy as his head pressed against her entrance and gently began to break her open. The burn was heavenly and (y/n) groaned throatily at the relief it provided, thinking they were the only people in the world at that moment.

That is until she looked up and saw through blurry eyes how the door handle was turning.

With a squeal, she instinctively crawled forward and away from Ray, snatching a blanket from the pile next to their nibbled-at dinner and draped it across her lap quicker than her lover could blink or keep hold of her.

"What the fuc--" he snarled, outraged and confused that she'd moved away at such a crucial moment when he was half-cocked and dying to slip inside her walls. Seeing nothing but red, he thought that she was playing some devilish game and so, he went to grab her, intent on spanking her ass until it was red and sore and in need of her superpower to make it better. But then he saw it too.

The doorknob had made a half-rotation and he only had a fraction of a second to yank a cushion from next to her head and press it into his crotch when the door was pushed open by the one person Ray did not want to see at that moment.

They'd fallen against the pillows, panting, sweaty and trying to appear as if they'd merely been sipping wine and not on the verge of fucking, when Jasper entered the room, staring at his phone and unaware as to what he'd walked in on.

Of course, it was him.

"J-Jasper, what are you doing in our bedroom?" (y/n) asked breathlessly, trying to fan her warm cheeks in a subtle way that wasn't subtle at all. Anyone with half a brain could realise what had been going on just by how warm and close the air was, how warm and close they were, if they only took a minute to observe.

"Yeah, what are you doing here?" Ray asked darkly, glaring at the boy as he felt his cock soften and the mood vanish. He was still desperate, raring to go and would give anything to slide into his sweet girl had he not rudely interrupted.

"Oh, uh, yeah...you said that you were gonna join me and Henry tonight, remember?" the boy said, looking up from his phone to see nothing out of the ordinary.

It was damn lucky that Jasper only had a quarter of a brain, otherwise, they'd have a lot of explaining to do with very red faces. But he was oblivious to their sticky foreheads and stiff shoulders, plus the way Ray refused to move the cushion from his pants as he thought about the boy's words.

"Oh...yeah. That," he mumbled, sending an apologetic glace to his puzzled lover, who hadn't heard of this arrangement before. What a fool Ray was; he'd agreed to the boys' night with the teens since they rarely had any guy time. So, tonight they were gonna be reckless, dumb and crazy, keeping their youth alive. And it seemed that he'd double-booked the date too. Oh, hell.

"What? Look, Jasper, I'm sorry but Ray's gonna have to miss whatever you've planned 'cause we've still got half a bottle to finish as well as something else, so--" she laughed nervously, feeling highly uncomfortable that her dearest Curly was in the room when she was aching on the inside.

She didn't care about whatever they'd planned, she thought Ray would choose her over a stupid night playing video games and eating candy. How wrong she was.

"So, just gimme a minute. I'll be right there," Ray told Jasper, gulping to keep his voice steady as (y/n) looked at him with shocked, wide eyes and an open mouth. The boy grinned and walked off, calling to Henry down the hall to get the popsicles from the freezer, leaving the woman to gawk in silence as they breathed again.

"Wh--what? You can't leave me here!" she gasped as she relaxed into the blanket and expected Ray to do the same, but no. When he said he'd be right there, he meant it and was already tucking himself away and doing up his zipper as she laid there, still wet and needy.

He looked sorry, apologetic and remorseful but even so, that didn't stop him from standing up to grab a moist napkin from their dinner table to dab away any embarrassing stains and freshen himself up.

"Precious girl, this is my fault. We arranged this night ages ago and I can't let Henry down...or the other one," Ray told her gently as he finished scrubbing himself and threw the napkin onto the tray again. She scoffed as he looked in the mirror and ran a hand through his tousled locks, smiling softly as she scowled and stamped her foot against the carpet. It was childish but she was distraught.

"But you can't leave me here without fucking me first..." the heroine muttered and grabbed the leftover wine to take a large swig--much-needed fortification to quench the blaze inside of her. The burn in her throat was unpleasant and made her eyes water but she hid the discomfort well, welcoming it to mask her frustration. How could he walk away? Was he not burning up as she was?

"I promise I'll fuck you later, yeah? Later, I swear," he insisted, deeming his appearance suitable enough to show a couple of teenagers and stepping away from the mirror. His smile met her glare and he leaned down to kiss her goodbye, probably the last one of the night since they were set to pull an all-nighter. However, (y/n) couldn't help but linger and try to swipe his tongue into his mouth--a play to entice him back that ultimately failed.

"Later. I'm holding you to that," she said to him firmly as he pulled away before his semi could return at full force. He couldn't deny that he still wanted her and was equally frustrated but he had to hide it well for the kids. They didn't need to see that.

"Later," he repeated and with one final peck on her forehead, he swept out of the room, leaving her a trembling mess in their rudimentary picnic spot. She'd finish herself off to the roaring of the fake fire but it wasn't enough. It could never be and she couldn't help but wonder.

Was Jasper an idiot or was he just being purposefully annoying?

*SAFETY AT LAST. Not my best but we've more yet to come, so stay tuned my fellow sinners--Onwards with the episode!*

~Many long hours later~

Annoying. Very annoying. They all were so damn annoying. One, two and three.

(y/n) had slept alone that night, had gone to bed in a frightful mood and all because of their stupid, ridiculous, testosterone-fuelled party. And it was a party—a big one.

At one point, she'd woken up at three-thirty to go pee when she heard their rowdy voices in the main room, shouting something about Henry finishing an entire can of soda in eight seconds. Full sugar, no doubt, that's what they ran off for the past god knows how long. The binge hadn't stopped when the sun rose, not when their sugar highs nosedived and not when Charlotte came to work at nine to see a very grumpy woman sitting in the chaos as she'd tried to eat breakfast.

For the life of her, Charlotte couldn't work out why the heroine was so grumpy and tetchy, it wasn't like her at all but in the end, she'd put her snide remarks and long sighs down to her being tired and moody from Ray's antics.

Hell, she'd only been there five minutes and she was tired from their conga line, so to escape from the tornado of pizza and smelly armpits, the girls had legged it to the safety of a cafe for the morning, hoping that by the time they'd finished gossiping and sipping cappuccinos, they'd be sleeping it off on the floor or couch. That was so naive of them.

It's how they'd ended up where they were now; one of the boys, assisting in something bovine and moronic frolic that required more players than they had. What the hell even was a haircut chain?

"How's it lookin', Henry?" Jasper asked his friend as the boy stood behind him. This was their big idea; they each stand behind one another with lasers--very dangerous, highly unpredictable lasers--so that they could give each other haircuts. Yeah, Charlotte and (y/n) didn't understand either.

"Lookin' gooood!" Henry replied with a smirk as he lightly trimmed Jasper's hair so it was a gradual fade and not a severe cut. The lasers were at their weakest setting, which meant they were being irresponsibly complacent since they merely saw it as a free haircut, nothing more. "How's it lookin', Ray?"

"Lookin' ooooookay!" the man said happily as he zapped at the stray hairs on his sidekick with an experienced hand. Behind him, his sweet girl and Charlotte were doing the same to him, although the woman needed to stand on a ladder held steady by the girl to match his tall stature. She was still thrumming on the inside, she could feel it when she walked and could see it in his gaze when they'd come home but still, the wait went on.

"How's it lookin', sweet girl? Charlotte?"

"We do not know what we're doing, doofus," she replied dryly, squinting to ensure that she was cutting in a straight line. She'd never cut her hair let alone someone else's and as it happened, she was quite fond of Ray's floppy floof. She didn't want to see it ruined so she was trying her best to not mess it up, but it was hard when she and Charlotte kept swapping to take turns on the ladder.

"What?!" Ray suddenly exclaimed and raised a hand to shield his brown locks as they ceased lasering. His hair was practically sacred, one of Captain Man's best features, to cut it without some skill was sacrilege. "Why would you mess with the Man Mane if you don't know what you're doing?"

"You told us it didn't matter!" Charlotte argued, wondering why he was being so crabby too. She didn't know if the happy couple were in the middle of a domestic or what but fifteen hours of sugar and soda had not helped the man, who was getting to be strangely antsy.

"When did I say that?" Ray asked in an innocent tone, although he remembered the precise moment quite well.

"Ten minutes ago, you doofus? Remember? When we walked out of the elevator and found you guys dancing around chanting, haircut chain, haircut chain, haircut chain!" the heroine refrained from punching his shoulder, knowing that if she did, the contact might make her spontaneously combust. The coffee was still fresh on her tongue as well as the fluttering from the butterflies after seeing him again...

"Haircut chain! Haircut chain! Haircut chain! Haircut chain! Haircut chain! Haircut chain!" Ray, Henry and Jasper chanted as they paraded around the Man Cave, waiting for the return of the girls.

They could hear the elevator coming down and were eagerly anticipating getting them to join, so it was quite the surprise for the two friends to step into the main room and see them so excited. As painful as it was to see them still so energetic, it warmed (y/n)'s heart to see her doofus again after four hours and three iced hazelnut lattes later; maybe it was her, but his gaze seemed ravenous for a split second before his cheerful grin resumed.

"Hey! We're gonna cut each other's hair!" Henry exclaimed, not caring if they were still holding their final takeout cups of Jet Brew. He was on his fifteenth popsicle, caring wasn't an option anymore.

"With lasers!" Jasper shrieked and (y/n) shared a look with Charlotte when his breath practically tore their faces off, Maybe leaving them unsupervised was a bad idea, but damn, they'd needed that coffee to pull through whatever this was.

"You in?!" Henry offered with a determined glint in his eyes that they didn't share.

"I do not know how to give a haircut with a laser."

"Yeah, me neither," they told him, wanting to make sure that they were aware that if they went near their beloved styles, there could be irreversible consequences. But as always, Ray wasn't a responsible adult and when his lover turned to look at him with fleeting eyes, he ignored any warning since it put a dampener on his spirits.

"Doesn't matter!" Well, he was the one who said it. That counted as permission in their eyes, the terms and conditions that hadn't been read but regardless, they'd accepted them.

"Then, okay..."

"I still say this is a bad idea," (y/n) muttered and took a long sip from her latte, letting its familiar milkiness take her back to her younger days. She knew that the haircuts were gonna be a disaster just from the way the chanting started up again, although this time, lasers were fired at the ceiling.

"Haircut chain! Haircut chain! Haircut chain!" the boys shouted, firing laser after laser at the rock face above their heads. Ray only stopped to kiss his sweet girl after hours of not seeing her properly but when she went to cup his face and linger, he pulled away to start dancing with his fellow gibbons.

You'd think he'd be a little more clingy considering that he hadn't crawled into bed with her that night and had been sorely missed by his sweet girl but that would come later, once the sugar tap had been turned off. The (y/n) withdrawal symptoms would come back with full force and so would his bone-crushing hugs and need to kiss her frequently - amongst other things.

"That didn't happen," Henry shook his head and peeled his eyes away from where he was lasering to look back at the girls. He was tired, sluggish and fuzzy so they didn't believe him, even if it was three against two.

"Yes, it did!"

"Who are you going to believe, Charlotte? Your own flawed memory or three guys who've been up all night playing video games and eating popsicles?" Ray asked and pursed his lips as he recalled the long night he'd just experienced.

Truth be told, he was getting a little too old for that kind of thing and looking at the pile of popsicle sticks on the table, he knew he'd have acid reflux at some point--it was just one of those things. Getting a good night's sleep after finishing his still unfinished business with his sweet girl sounded much better, but he was way too proud to admit that.

"Yeah, that's not a tough choice, you morons," (y/n) said with a scoff, although her point was marred slightly when she leaned forward on the ladder to press a kiss to the nape of Ray's neck. She enjoyed watching him shiver and hoped that he was reminded about what his fun night had cost, something that highly amused Charlotte as she stopped the ladder from tipping.

"Yeah, exactly. Popsicle boys!" the kid squeaked immaturely and in a move that somewhat disturbed the insulted girls, wiggled his fingers against Ray's as they made a stupid sound. The hero might've been shaking from the inrush of cold air after his lover had her lips on him but he didn't miss a beat, unlike Henry, who missed an awful lot since his focus was elsewhere.

"You might wanna look where you're lasering," Charlotte advised. She wasn't the one on a platform like (y/n) but even from her position, she had an excellent view of Henry's lack of movement, meaning she could see how he'd been going over the same spot on Jasper's head for the past three minutes. It kinda looked like a mole rat now, smooth and fully shaved, not what the boy had asked for.

"You better look where (y/n)'s lasering!--ah!" he retorted cockily, thinking that she was simply buying into the playful banter until his gaze wandered back to his work to see that what was once a masterpiece was now ruined.

From his ear downwards, Jasper's hair was gone; it kinda looked like a mole rat now, smooth and fully shaved, not what the boy had asked for, meaning a horrified, squeaky gasp fell from Henry's lips.

"What was that?" Jasper asked nervously as he felt the gentle heat on his head stop and a draft brush against his skin. It didn't feel like any other haircut he'd had given how cold everything felt and it was like he could sense their stares burning into the back of his head as if something had gone wrong.

"Uh...nothing," Henry stammered, wondering how he was gonna fix the mistake if there was no hair left to work with when Schwoz came through the secret door, minding his own business and carrying a picnic basket.

"No, no, no, you tiny screamed," Jasper tried to bring his focus back, knowing that his friend only screeched like that when something was wrong.

"Uh, dude, it was nothing--Hey, Schwoz! Random question...do you have anything that regrows hair?"

"What?!" The boy's hand flew to the back of his head as he heard the not-so-subtle question and even he understood that Henry was trying to say that he'd screwed up the haircut chain. The genius was so conveniently in the room now and so, Henry thought that he'd have a solution since that was his expertise and helpfully, he did.

"Don't worry, I got something," Schwoz reassured them, seeing the utter panic on Jasper's face and the guilt on Henry's, so he pulled a tube from his pocket and tossed it to the shaved kid, "this hair-growing cream works great. I've been using it on the sides and back of my head for years."

"Any instructions for this stuff?" Jasper questioned as he looked at the tube dubiously. It didn't have any legible writing on it and Schwoz was already off out somewhere, so it didn't give him the best feeling, even if Schwoz's hair (or what was left of it) was thick and luscious.

"Oh, yeah. Lots of 'em! But I don't have time to tell you right now because I'm late for my dinner with Bigfoot," Schwoz replied and lifted the basket over his head so he could disappear up the tube and not have to worry about Jasper and his lack of hair problem. But he couldn't leave, not after dropping a bomb like that--something about Bigfoot?

"Whaaaaat?"

"Hang on..."

"Wait, stop, stop, stop!" the remaining five rambled, focusing on the genius who rolled his eyes at their confused expressions and raised the tube again. He was getting very late and didn't have time for any questions, even if they now had a million of them.

"What?"

"Bigfoot?!" Ray repeated as he held out a hand for (y/n) to steady herself coming off the ladder. Back on solid ground, she held onto his doofus' hand as they huddled together to grill Schwoz on how he could be friends with a mythical, rampaging thing in the woods and not tell them. They must've heard him wrong, there was no way that it was the Bigfoot.

"Like, Bigfoot Bigfoot?"

"Yah." Or not. Schwoz wasn't laughing or holding in giggles, he was being deadly serious about meeting up with the hulking creature, something that they just couldn't believe since it was so outlandish.

"The Bigfoot?" Jasper questioned, leaving his smooth nape alone for a minute since this had piqued his interest. Bigfoot...and people thought he was strange.

"Like, the made-up creature who lives in the woods?" (y/n) asked, wanting to clarify that they were definitely talking about the thing that supposedly scared campers and hikers. She often prided herself on being quite open-minded, she was an engineer after all, but like the others, she was thinking one thing; Schwoz had either been sniffing glue or watching too much of the conspiracy channel again.

"He's not made up, he dated my sister," the small replied, which both shocked them and made a lot of sense at the same time. They could get over that Bigfoot existed, but Winnie getting a date? Jeez, the poor guy probably had to give her bags of carrots instead of bunches of flowers.

"Your sister dated Bigfoot?!"

"Yeah, it didn't work out between them, he wanted kids, she didn't but I always thought he was a chill hang," Schwoz shrugged, remembering all of the drama that always ensued when a couple broke up and the drama that ensued afterwards when he and Biggie remained friends. He was glad that his favourite couple would never go through that, it's why he liked living with them despite the ickiness and incidents--no chance of it ending, not ever.

"Can we go with you?" Henry requested eagerly. It's not that he was nosy, rather, he wanted to see if Schwoz was lying or not. Anyone would jump at a chance of seeing Bigfoot in the flesh and the others had the same mindset.

"Oh, yeah!"

"Yes, yes, please?!"

"Come on!" they clapped their hands excitedly and looked at him expectantly, which put Schwoz in an awkward position. It's not like he had anything to hide but he thought it would be awkward having all of his friends clashing, after all, there were gonna be a lot of personalities clashing.

"I don't like to mix my work friends with my wood friends--" he tried to let them down gently, ignoring their pleading eyes and hopeful grins because he felt guilty enough. It was impossible though, he truly was outnumbered.

"Oh, come on, Schwoz! Just let us come!"

"Yeah, we can all be friends together!" Charlotte and (y/n) begged together, using their best, fluttering eyelashes and doe-like eyes to win him over--and it worked. They ground Schwoz down all too easily because he wouldn't want to make them cry, now would he? That would just be cruel.

"Fine, let's go to dinner with Bigfoot--" the handyman conceded with a sigh to the roaring cheers of his friends, who applauded, cheered and fist-pumped their success in an almost hedonistic way that undermined Schwoz's kindness. He wanted them on their best behaviour, not screaming or shouting or being weird, Bigfoot was a very sophisticated guy. "--but don't embarrass me!"

They calmed down at that and although still buzzing with excitement, the group moved to enter the elevator, Ray happily tugging (y/n) along with a spring in his step. He refused to let go of her hand because it was the only thing keeping him cool at that moment, what with the adrenaline still streaming through his blood and the prospect of meeting a literal legend wasn't helping, neither was the sudden, unexpected alarm.

"Emergency alert!" Charlotte exclaimed as everyone looked back at the computer and saw the familiar red flash of the beacon. Right, they were technically supposed to be working right now and an impromptu trip to the woods, something that would take a couple of hours just to get there, wasn't gonna stop them from continuously coming in.

Captain Man couldn't take time off and neither could his sidekicks and Ray was aware of that, highly so; it was just a shame that he didn't care. Shielding his eyes from the others in a not-so-noticeable way, he pulled his laser controller from his pocket and fired a single shot at the beacon, burning a hole straight through the plastic, thus ending the call, at least so that they didn't have to hear or worry about it.

"Raymond!" (y/n) whined and gave him a stern look for what he'd just done. She didn't feel right leaving whichever poor soul to suffer simply because they were curious and leaving something a mess made her stressed all the more. It made her itch in a way, knowing that it would be lying and waiting to be fixed until they came back so she was ready to scold him and Ray was braced for that. Until--

"Dinner with Bigfoot!" Henry began chanting, his booming volume swallowing whatever noise came from (y/n)'s mouth. He'd known the couple long enough to sense when they were about to argue, whether it be petty or explosive, and he did his best to stop it, which worked rather well well when Jasper and Charlotte joined as Ray fleetingly kissed his sweet girl quiet and chanted too.

"Dinner with Bigfoot!"

"Dinner with Bigfoot!" Strange. They thought he would've kissed her for longer. What was with those too?

~Two hours later, in the woods~

A van journey later and the group were still chanting as they approached a clearing in the woods, one where Schwoz had said was his and Bigfoot's supposed meeting place.

Despite the long, bumpy journey, one that was still palpably tense thanks to Ray, (y/n) and whatever was going on between them, the anticipation for meeting the mythical creature was still high and the teens had been poking Schwoz since the second stop light for more information. What did he eat? Normal food. Where was he from? Swellview, duh. What was his favourite colour? What kind of question was that?

It went on and on but thankfully, it meant not much attention was paid to the front of the van, where the couple had been strangely silent, uneasy and not at all handsy--the most worrying thing. Ray didn't put his hand on (y/n)'s thigh like she was hoping, the thing he always did when he drove since the pillowy flesh was just asking for his fingertips to feel it, but that night, he was worried that the call was asking for something else and he didn't want to listen to it. Not yet, anyway.

"Dinner with Bigfoot!"

"Dinner with Bigfoot!" The teens chanted relentlessly as they followed Schwoz through the thick foliage, walking for a few minutes to disappear into the night that had fallen during their drive over. Bigfoot was a secretive guy and preferred to not be seen by others, which was understandable, so they carried on in single-file, Schwoz first, the kids in the middle and Ray and (y/n) walking hand-in-hand to bring up the rear.

They were trailing slightly, keeping up but going at their own pace as Ray's stride was much longer than (y/n)'s and he wanted her comfort more than anything, so it was her setting the speed. It was fine, Schwoz had everything under control at the front and they were nearly there, or so he said, so the only problem Ray was experiencing was the one in front of him. The perfect view of his sweet girl's ass as she walked--all he could do was stay back and try not to stare, which was easier said than done.

"Sweet girl?" He grumbled, surprising himself with how animalistic he sounded, akin to something they might find in those very woods, so it was no wonder that (y/n) whipped around immediately, slowing down to a mere ambling pace as she faced her dark-eyed doofus to see what was wrong.

"Yeah?" she asked, her saccharine voice full of innocence that made Ray's abs tense. He didn't know what he was gonna say at first, he just wanted to call her name but seeing her looking at him like a lamb in front of a wolf made his next actions undeniable. He let go of her hand to grasp her wrist instead and it was damn lucky that the gasp she released when he roughly pressed her against the nearest tree wasn't heard by the others.

Henry, Charlotte and Jasper carried on merrily, not noticing that there were two missing members in their party as Ray pinned his precious girl against the scraping bark and kept her hands clasped together and above her head.

In the moonlight, she looked so ravishing as his eyes raked down her quivering body and he could see the questioning look in her eye, a part of her wondering why he was picking his moment now. However, he could also see how she wasn't all that innocent either, pupils dilating the minute one hand went from her waist to brush between her thighs, touching nothing but the soft skin there.

There she was, his girl, his darling lover, his future wife, waiting for his next move, panting lightly in the darkness as they were left behind and he knew that he'd been a fool to leave her for a few popsicles and to play Mario Kart, he'd been a fool for thinking he could last a whole day without her.

"Doofus, what--"

"The second we are alone again, little girl..." he whispered in her ear, one hand cradling her jaw as the other stayed with hers against the tree. It was his promise to her and it could be left unspoken, she didn't need an explanation. They were pushing their luck as it was, staying behind as the others marched on and as tempting as it was to throw caution to the wind and feel those thighs around his waist because lord knows that he did not give a fuck, she did.

Jasper's earlier faux pas was but a forewarning in her mind and it would not happen again, not two nights in a row, so as quick as her back had met with the harsh bark, he pulled away, taking one hand with him.

The dazzling rush of it all had her stumbling to catch up with his long legs as he marched towards the clearing, following the voices before they were missed or he changed his mind and she had no choice but to jog behind her doofus. Her hot, moody, incredibly well-endowed doofus.

Avoiding a tree root and a mysterious puddle of green mush, the couple made it to the back of the group again, not that anyone had noticed their slight delay. The only noticeable thing was how their breathing had quickened from the rush, although in (y/n)'s case it was something else. Paired with her red cheeks, it was kinda obvious, but the shadows hid it well and so did hiding behind Ray's shoulder.

"Hey! That hair-growing cream worked great."

"Yeah, it looks gooooood, dude," Henry complimented Jasper when Charlotte noticed that unlike two hours previously, Jasper's hair was completely back to normal. You'd never guess that he'd had the majority of it lasered off and he was quite happy with the results of Schwoz's cream, save for one little thing.

"Oh, nice...this worries me a little," he smiled but it was nervous and they knew why when he raised his hands to show them that not only did the cream work on scalps, it also worked on fingers and palms. Baby hairs had begun to sprout from his flesh and he was getting quite furry, which was disturbing. Really disturbing.

"You have to wear a glove when you apply it. That's part of the instructions!" Schwoz exclaimed as the others grimaced, (y/n) burying her nose into the jacket she'd stolen from Ray.

Being the silly-billy she was, she'd only realised how cold it was out until they were well past the city's border and in the sticks, so her ever-adoring fiancé had swooped in and bundled her up in one of his huge jackets that had been slung on the backseat of the Man Van. It was huge, enough to keep her warm even in a dress and it was only made better by his cologne following her around.

"You didn't tell me any instructions," Jasper argued as he coped with his hairy hands. He'd just assumed that the cream worked on heads, not skin in general, which was kinda bad since he'd been touching his head, face, ears and other places since using it.

"Okay, step one--don't itch your ears!" Schwoz said when he saw the boy rubbing and searching his earholes. That would only mean more cream transfer, even if it was a little late to be giving out advice.

"Soooo...Schwoz, where's Bigfoot?" Henry asked as Jasper stomped off to try and deal with his new hair problem. This was the meeting place but no one could see any imaginary animals or beings, meaning the kid was starting to doubt if this guy was real or not and whether Schwoz had pulled the best prank of all time.

"Yeah, man. We've been walking around for four whole minutes. I'm starting to think you don't really know Bigfoot," Ray added, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his sweet girl huddled to his side to try and keep the cold away. He wasn't the world's most patient man but four minutes traipsing around some bushes at night wasn't his idea of fun and he was waiting on a promise for what was.

"Relax, let me just call him--" Schwoz told him gently and the man went back to trying to keep (y/n) warm. He knew that dress was both angelic and evil, but at least he could put his arm around her, which was good for when Schwoz ignored his phoned and abruptly summoned his friend. "BIGFOOOOOOOOT!!!"

"He's on his way," he told them, not thinking a thing of his sudden, echoing voice in the dead of night nor how he just spooked the heebie-jeebies out of them. Biggie wasn't much of a phone guy anyway.

"If you were just gonna scream his name, then why'd you pull out your phone?" (y/n) asked as she snuggled into the cosy fuzziness of Ray's jacket. She'd seen the genius take his phone from his pocket when she was ogling her lover, which is why his bellowing had been so unexpected.

"So I could get a picture of you guys when Bigfoot shows up," Schwoz replied in a tender voice but he had that mischievous glint in his eye like he had something up his sleeve. His phone was pointing at them and open on the camera app, so he was ready to capture their shocked, terrified expressions whenever he needed a good laugh, not that they knew that.

"You mean if he shows up," Henry scoffed sceptically, shoulder-to-shoulder with his friends as they waited, "we've been here for five whole minutes now. I'm starting to think you don't actually know hi--"

Henry never got to finish his mini-rant. As he rambled on at the smirking genius, a big, hairy lump dropped from the overhanging willows to land in front of them, bellowing a ferocious roar. The sight of this snarling furball caused the teens and couple to shriek in terror, a moment that Schwoz swiftly captured on his phone as (y/n) practically leapt on Ray, who had his jacket clutched by Henry, flanked by Jasper cowering behind Charlotte.

But the howl eventually petered out and the beast put its arms down in a friendly slouch, meaning the group eventually stopped screaming too. Bigfoot just stood there and he wasn't quite what they were expecting as hands let go of jackets and men put down their sweet girls; he was tall and hairy with thick, sharp nails, that was a given, but apart from that, he was normal.

Well, nearly normal--he was placid with an easy-going stance, nothing like the monster some people often described him as.

"You guys, Bigfoot is real!" Henry exclaimed as they all stood there, in awe of the living legend in front of them, who wasn't a mutant or animal like on the TV, he was just a normal guy with a lot of hair.

"Real handsome!" Bigfoot quipped, putting them all at ease with his small joke. If he was comfortable with himself then they had no reason to fear him, especially when he laughed in that resonating baritone of his. "It's nice to meet you..."

"So...uh, this is Hen--" Schwoz started to introduce everyone, not wanting things to be awkward since he didn't have many friends and he didn't want to lose any, but Bigfoot beat him to the chase.

"Oh, I know this guy. Henry Hart AKA Kid Danger? Feels gooooood!" The hairy man chuckled, much to Henry's excitement.

"Bigfoot knows my thing!" The ecstatic kid hissed to the others. He thought it was wild that Bigfoot of all people knew who he was and had intimate knowledge of his personality, even his secret identity. He didn't seem to be the kinda guy to leak stuff like that, after all, Schwoz was smart enough to not be all pally with grasses, so no one worried.

"'Course I do. Scheoz talks about you guys all the time," he revealed, making the small man blush since no one knew about his pride from working the Man Cave.

"What?" Jasper tilted his head, stunned that Schwoz could be so sneaky and that Bigfoot knew about their crazy gang.

"Yeah. You must be Charlotte," Bigfoot nodded, turning to the girl whose cheeks heated up when he started being all charming, "Schwoz tells me you're even smarter than he is."

"Whaaaaaat?... It's true, though," she grinned, blushing from the sentiment of Schwoz hyping her up to his other friends but it was the truth. The Man Cave would be lost without her skill with the computer and general sensibility, so it was nice to know that it was noted and appreciated.

"Oh--Jasper!"

"Yeah!" The boy nodded with a smile as Bigfoot moved on, looking at him next and punching out at him lightly in playful banter. Honestly, this guy was so cool and Jasper liked that he had also been included when he did the least out of the three teens.

"J-Dowg!"

"B-Foot!" They bantered and bumped fists as Schwoz kept snapping pictures, wanting to remember every moment of his friends becoming friends. Maybe they'd be able to hang out together as a gang and he'd be surrounded by everyone he loved--maybe a tad premature but a nice thought as they all got along so well.

"How's that girl with all the allergies?" Bigfoot asked, referring to Patina, the one Jasper took to Cactus Con and accidentally plunged into an anaphylactic fit.

Ouch, a touchy subject in more ways than one so no one ever mentioned what had happened with her, not that Jasper ever let it bother him.

"Oh yeah, she ghosted me! I keep texting her but she never responds!" He shrugged, tugging at (y/n)'s heartstrings as he smiled with the others but she remembered those weeks all too well. Jasper sat on the couch, texting and texting, waiting for an answer that never came until he had no choice but to move on with a sad acknowledgement for a romance that had gone so far only to be left to die. She never liked that girl.

Speaking of moving on...

"Oh, and well, I know who this beauty is! (y/n), the sweetest girl in the world as Schwoz put it! Lovely to meet you, I know all about your engineering and how you keep the place running--oh, and of course, Miss Danger! How could I forget?" (y/n) was practically a tomato as Bigfoot moved on and grinned at her next.

He extended his hand and she thought he was going for a handshake when he warmly pulled her in for a hug, a very soft hug as his woolly body helped her forget about the cold as he gushed about her many talents and the way the Man Cave would crash and burn without her expertise. Pulling away, her face was beaming as they crowded around Schwoz with the other three to look at the pictures and that only left Ray on the outside.

The man loudly cleared his throat as they cooed over the funny and heartwarming photos, looking up to see him still standing there. Right, the main man as it were, the boss, the head honcho, they couldn't forget him, after all, he'd never let them.

"And, uh, last but certainly not least..." Ray grinned, awkwardly turning to Bigfoot who removed his arm from his darling girl's shoulders and looked at him--with a blank stare like what you'd give if you were giving a stranger. Oh, lord.

"Hey..." Biggie greeted slowly, which didn't fill the hero with confidence but still, he smiled back, encouraged by (y/n), who was edged closer to them as much as she could without passing the furball, "there he is..."

"There I am!"

"This guy!" They interacted with a definite tension that made the teens frown because it was so weird that Bigfoot had been so welcoming and friendly with them, knowing specific details about their lives and personalities, only for him to have no idea who Ray was.

"You must be, uh... Henry's dad?" The hairy man suggested, trying to find a possible identity for the mystery man that his friend had never described, but it only served to insult Ray. That was nowhere near accurate and kinda insulting since he thought he looked too young to be any teenager's dad. Come on, he wasn't even married yet.

"Henry's dad? Are you--are you kidding me?"

"Are you...uh, Jasper's dad?" he moved on, a hint of desperation as (y/n) facepalmed in the background, itching to get to her doofus' side before his emotions started leaking but she knew how it would look if she was constantly clinging to his side. So, no matter how badly this was going, she stood still and hoped that Ray didn't do anything stupid after being called the weird kid's father.

"Uh, I'm-I'm Ray AKA Captain Man AKA (y/n)'s fiancée!" the hero said, hoping that a few of his basic titles would spark some recognition in the legend's mind.

Bigfoot looked genuinely surprised to hear about another superhero living with Schwoz since he didn't have a TV and never ventured into the city; he had to learn stuff by ear and when he looked back at the mention of the sweet girl, he saw her raise her left hand and point to the ring that sparkled in the starlight. Well, that confirmed it, weird how he never knew.

"Oh, Schwoz never mentioned you! Are you new to the Schwoz Cave?" He asked politely, seeing nothing wrong with his question, so he didn't understand why the man's face erupted into anger as the woman and kids released shocked giggles behind him. Oh, that little fibre, what had he been saying?

"The Schwoz Cave?!" Ray snapped and his furious gaze landed on Schwoz, who smirked bashfully and adverted everyone's gaze. He was ashamed but also unapologetic because he loved the idea of being a superhero and messing with Ray's head, even if it was a tangled web of lies that he was now stuck in.

"Listen, listen--" Bigfoot put a furry hand on Ray's chest to keep him from tackling Schwoz and instead, diverted their attention before things got out of hand, "I found this great campsite just past the creek. Let's all go down there and have dinner to get to know each other better.

"Yeah."

"All right, let's go," the teens nodded enthusiastically at the sound of food and a pretty area to sit, so they quickly followed after their host, who knew the way like the back of his paw--hand. Schwoz was right behind them, giggling mischievously to himself as he passed Ray, who stood like a statue with a stony expression engraved on his face. He was visibly livid from being unmentioned and the shoulder pats that the kids gave him only soured the mood.

"That's a tough one, daddy," Henry commented jokingly as he walked past, not knowing that it was possibly the worst thing he could've said to the man, who'd been waiting all day and all night for that kind of talk. He was damn near breaking point and (y/n) knew that as she was the last to move.

"Come on, sweetheart. Let's go eat," she whispered, stepping in front of him and smiling in the face of his grim expression. She gently reached for his hand, which unclenched when her fingers slid over his to let her in and without hesitation, Ray allowed her to grasp it. Sighing when she stroked his cheek, he allowed her to tug him towards the campsite, his heart unwilling to watch her walk away despite how sluggish his plodding feet were.

They might have liked Bigfoot but he wasn't so keen and neither was he impressed with that good-for-nothing, low-down, double-crossing sneak, Schwoz. He'd be having words with him but for now, he was willing to indulge in one thing - his sweet girl. If the hairball didn't know who he was now, he surely would by the end of the night if it was the last thing he did.

Her fiancé, her lover, her doofus. Always.

Up ahead, they could hear a slight commotion since they were going quite slowly, anything so Ray could sulk in peace a little longer and cheer himself up with a little butt-staring. No doubt the amazing Bigfoot was doing something amazing with his amazing dinner because he was amazing.

"Let's eat!"

Yeah, right, he could've done that but to avoid a scene, Ray stayed silent and kicked at the dirt as they came to another, smaller clearing, complete with rocks and stumps for rudimentary stools, a pre-lit campfire and some coolers left by the campers he scared away, one of whom Henry could swear looked like Mitch Bilsky but as he looked at the cosy spot, he couldn't find it in himself to care.

Soon, they were huddled around the fire, Charlotte sat with Bigfoot on a fallen tree trunk, Henry with Schwoz, Jasper on his own, and then, Ray on a rock with (y/n) perched happily on his knee. Their new friend had raised his eyebrows at that, thinking they were very open about being so touchy and...kissy but the others assured him that it was normal and separating them would only lead to trouble now that the man was calmly nuzzling into her neck and hair.

So, soon, the snacks were handed out and the stories started. Bigfoot lead them since he was the fascinating one and even Ray was able to tame his jealousy and listen as he nibbled a hotdog, offering it to his lover occasionally, another thing that they assured the legend was normal for them.

"Sometimes, I just want to sneak into town to get that good salsa but people would see me and they'd either want a selfie or they'd try and kill me," Bigfoot sighed as everyone listened intently to how hard it was being so famous yet hated. Sure, he was legendary but most would kill to be the ones to capture Bigfoot or put the real-life Bigfoot in a zoo, and that was just horrible considering that he was such a sweet man.

"And I hear that!" Ray piped up as (y/n) bit into their hotdog and he tightened the arm around her waist. He wasn't hated but he knew the price of popularity and it was nice to see him finally making friends, even if it was slightly self-centred, "I can't go anywhere without getting mobbed."

"Appreciate your sympathy, Ron," the behemoth gave him a polite smile and he was gracious enough to not mention the way they were snuggling like they were the only ones in the forest. All Bigfoot concentrated on was his story and the way Charlotte was braiding his fur, which was a shame because his blatant forgetting of Ray's name touched a sore spot for the egocentric man.

"Ray. It's...it's Ray," he corrected with a smile that was akin to a snarl If it wasn't for his sweet girl playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, he would've pounced and taken the hairy buffoon on himself. Was he that forgettable or had Scwhoz properly swindled him for once?

"Oh, I'm so sorry--Captain Ray!" Bigfoot was trying his best; this guy was quite techy about his image and he didn't fancy fighting with Schwoz's other friends, not when they could so easily blow his clandestine existence. However, even his best wasn't enough and Ray gritted his teeth at yet another mistake.

"No, it's Captain Man. My name is Ray," the hero laughed awkwardly and mockingly, earning himself a few hard stares as he took everything too personally, "and I just think it's hilarious that this guy has no idea who I am!"

Everything got out of hand quite quickly and (y/n) whined indignantly when her doofus stood up abruptly, tipping her off his lap so she had to scramble to stay on her feet as he started throwing a rather embarrassing tantrum. Honestly, it was like caring for a six-year-old.

"Doofus! Ray--Raymond! Oh god, I am so sorry about him..." she had to say, giving Biggie an apologetic look and nervous smile as her lover began kicking at the dirt, complaining about anything and everything. She was used to his emotional outbursts but that didn't make them any less humiliating when their new friend looked so perplexed and almost sympathetic to her situation. God, the shame--he was thirty-seven for god's sake.

"And there's no dijon mustard for this hotdog!'

"Hey! Just chill, okay? Just relax!--" Schwoz and the teens were staring at the earth as (y/n) flattened her palm against Ray's chest and began pushing him away after he threw the half-eaten Weiner and bun to the ground. Sure, it had been a little bland and boring but it was nice for a minimalistic picnic and they'd share anything honestly, mustard or no mustard.

"Said it was a great campsite, doesn't seem so great to me! His words, not mine!" Ray growled above her incessant pleas to calm down and she started using her body to push him back quicker when he pointed straight at Bigfoot--a highly rude gesture. Such a child...

"Calm down! Just calm the hell down!"

"Ray? Ray?!" Charlotte shouted as she came over to see if she could get through to him too since the awkwardness was killing her. She joined (y/n) in begging for him to button it and folded her arms as he spat her calming words back in her face; seriously, if (y/n) was struggling to calm him down, her, his beloved fiancée, what hope did she have?

"I'm the problem, sweet girl? I'm embarrassing?! I'm embarrassing?!"

"Yes, yes, you are! You're embarrassing when you act like a child, Raymond, getting angry when things don't go your way and it's deeply humiliating!" the woman scolded, staring him down--or as down as she could get since she was so much shorter than him--as a teacher would to a rebellious student. He seemed to sober up at that, recoiling when she gave him the reality check that he was upsetting her, the kids, and everyone and that wasn't fair.

"I'm embarrassing?" he asked again and she cleared her throat when his eyes softened from the hardened glare they'd held seconds before. He never wanted to humiliate her, god knows that he only ever wanted to be proud of having him by her side and it was only because of stupid Bigfoot that he'd lost his cool. Or...maybe it was him, maybe he needed to think things through.

"Yes, Ray, so you know what? You need to calm down, so we're going to go into the forest and we're gonna take a lap," (y/n) told him firmly and took up his hand so she could march him out of the clearing before there was a punch up. Did other girls have to do this with their fiancés?

"I don't wanna take a lap!" he replied petulantly and tried to pull his hand away from his sweet girl in defiance. In his normal state of mind, he'd never do that but children often cut their noses off to spite their faces when being told off--he was no different when he was like this.

"You need to take a lap, Ray," Henry piped up this time, having stood up to come and join Charlotte in assisting the woman, even if their opinions meant very little. Still, he figured that if his boss heard it from enough people, he'd eventually stomp off with (y/n) in tow and she'd ensure that he was fully calm before coming back to their rustic yet sophisticated hangout.

"I don't need a lap! It's not my lap time!" Ray snapped at the kid, thinking he was getting them all to back off when really, he was making it worse. Did he not realise how childish he sounded? All the man wanted to do was enjoy a quiet evening with his girl and feel her squirm against him when he breathed hot air down her neck, but no. That walking carpet was ruining everything.

"If you want to act like a child, then I will treat you like one, Raymond. Come with me!" (y/n) tried to shove him again but his bulk wouldn't budge, not until someone else joined the cacophony.

"Uh, I wouldn't take a lap. It's pretty dangerous out there!" The same walking carpet said, again trying to be helpful but again failing miserably. Whilst he knew the woods like the back of his hairy hand, they didn't and he'd hated to see them step in something dangerous but to Ray, that sounded like a challenge. If Bigfoot could do it, he could do it better.

"Oh, okay! We're taking a lap!" the hero scoffed, suddenly changing his tune, much to the group's frustration. Without another word, Ray seized (y/n)'s hand and dragged her off in the direction that they'd come, grumbling as he went. She was tripping over her feet at his insane pace and all she could manage was a quick wave to the others before they'd rounded the corner and disappeared into the shrubbery.

*WEE-WOO, WEE-WOO. SMUT IMPENDING AGAIN. I PROMISE IT FINISHES AFTER THIS THOUGH. LET'S GOOOOOOO!*

"Ray! Ray! Slow down! I said a lap, not a sprint!" she gasped as he retraced their faint steps that had been trodden into the dirt, looking for one spot in particular since it would be far enough from the camp but not too dangerous for them to be caught unawares. He tried to ease up when she stumbled on a jagged rock emerging from the soil but he didn't stop, merely squeezed her hand even more to keep her following.

"Raymond! Will you just--what is with you tonight?" the heroine asked again, slightly breathless from how much ground they'd covered in such a short space of time. Trees had passed and bushes and a sign saying hunters would be prosecuted--and a sign after that said prosecutors would be hunted if they didn't keep their noses out. It felt like they'd trekked the entirety of the woods when he finally stopped, abruptly and without warning, and with no inclination that he was going to answer her question.

Like lightning, Ray pushed her against the tree for the second time that night and their surroundings once again became familiar to (y/n) as she felt the same scraping against the soft skin of her back. He'd taken her up the path to the old clearing, the one where the moon lit the path to keep the monsters away--and hopefully any snoopers too.

She'd been hunted again, only this time, Ray intended to go through with the kill.

"I'll tell you what's with me, sweet thing," he growled and instantly had his face buried into her neck so he could nip a line down her jugular, tearing gasps and weak moans from the back of her throat, "I've done nothing but think about your pussy since last night and I need it, darlin'. Need you so bad."

Truth be told, a smile tugged at her lips when his typical, domineering snarl turned into a whining beg. He was pawing at whatever he could get his hands on; her soft neck, tits through her dress, hands brushing back the jacket to hold her waist before slipping down to knead at her ass. Most would say that he was pathetic, desperately trying to tempt her into joining him in the open, in a public place, where anyone could stumble across something.

"Whose fault is that then?" (y/n) teased, jaw dropping open when his teeth bit down on her collarbone, causing her to yank hard on his hair when her hands snaked to run her fingers through it. His lips were so distracting but through the lips of them and his wandering touch lighting fire on her skin, she could feel him against her hip, hard and throbbing, begging to be released after losing out so critically before.

Now, it was her chance to wind him up tight like a spring and watch him squirm because that's what she'd had to do the night he left her for popsicles and buffoonery. He could've had her, could've pushed right in, god knows she'd let him, she was soaking through her panties just at the memory and yet, he'd left himself to suffer.

Pushing the skirt of her dress up, Ray immediately grasped at her thighs and tried to widen them, hoping to get a glimpse of the delight that was waiting for him, even if he knew he didn't deserve it, not when he'd played such a cruel game. The desperation was clawing at his insides, cock begging him to fuck her soon before he exploded and so, as much as his instincts told him to have his sweet girl spread out like a feast for him and chastise her for teasing her Captain, he swallowed his pride.

"Please--please--please," he whispered over and over against her neck as he rutted his hips into her. With any luck, she'd feel what she was doing to him, how crazy the thought of her had made him over the last god knows how many hours, how he couldn't wait to fuck her tight cunt any longer.

The drive over had been hell; anytime he looked over, she was there looking like an angel and he could swear that she'd been widening her legs just to tease him when he rested his hand on her thigh. Little minx... But what could he do? He did his best to find her sweet spots, licking and sucking at the spot below her ear and trailing his fingers closer to her core until she was trembling between him and the tree, that's when she spoke.

"What do you want, doofus?" she murmured, tilting her head back so he'd have more access. Moving down from her ear, he headed for the top of her tits, nipping as he went before he grabbed at them roughly. God, he wished they were back home or that he'd done this sooner, then he could take one into his mouth, he knew how perfect those nipples were for biting and sucking, but out here, he wasn't willing to expose more than he had to.

What did he want? A few things. He wanted her naked, on their bed in the warmth so he could get on his knees and pray for forgiveness before worshipping her like he should've done before. He wanted to hear her every sound above the rustle of the leaves. He wanted to peel her panties down her legs and fuck her hard and strong so he didn't rip someone's head off. He wanted her, he wanted her so much.

"You, sweet girl. I want you so bad--since last night," he panted, grinning against her skin when he found her clit through the soaked material under her dress and rubbed his thumb against it in tight circles. She lurched forward with a cry, bucking her hips towards him as best she could with only the tree for leverage and it reminded her that he wasn't the only one who'd been simmering since last night.

The drive over had been hell; anytime she looked over, he was there, looking like a god as one hand guided the wheel and the other stayed with her like always. She could swear that he'd crept his hand closer to her core with every passing streetlight, just to drive her insane.

"Then fuck me, you idiot," she smirked and palmed at him through his jeans, feeling how huge he was even through the denim and no sooner than the words left her mouth, they pulled apart to weakly shove any clothing out of the way.

Her thumbs hooked the elastic of her underwear and she pulled them down her legs as their eyes stayed locked, his darkening when she slipped them past her ankles and awkwardly over her shoes. It was never like this in the movies, they made it seem so smooth but she got there eventually and pressed them into his hand, earning herself a groan when he felt the damp cotton.

Tucking them into his back pocket, Ray lifted his sweater slightly, revealing a peek of his Adonis belt as she knelt to pop the button on his jeans and slowly bring down the zipper. He watched with hooded eyes as she gingerly reached into his briefs and pulled him free, licking her lips at the prize that lay in front of her.

She leaned forward, ignoring how the bitter air was making her core clench when it met her bare pussy and how stones were digging into her knees as she braced against the ground but it was worth it. Dipping her tongue out, she kitten-licked at his tip before allowing the flared head to break her lips open, taking him in one, two, three times with slow bobs of her head that had him throwing his back to howl at the sky.

It was indulgent, he knew that; her pace was tortuous and he longed to hold her face still and fuck her pretty throat but relented when she looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes that were spoiled only by his cock inflating her cheeks.

"You always look so hot with my cock in your mouth, sweet girl," he groaned and placed a hand on the back of her head to guide her movements. (y/n) moaned at the salty taste of him, loving how pliant he was in her hands, so much power and strength being controlled by her movements--it was intoxicating but not what she sorely wanted.

With one final swipe of her tongue around his length, she pulled back, leaving them connected with nothing more than a string of saliva as she gazed up at him with cherry-red, sickened lips and doe-like eyes before asking, "will you fuck me now, sir?"

"Fuck, baby--" Ray groaned at her naive tone, admiring how small her hand looked when giving his cock a few tugs. Leaving her hair, his hand slipped under her arm and he pulled her to her feet, growling when she giggled at his eagerness. Her amusement didn't last long; pushing her against the tree once more, Ray gripped the backs of her thighs and snarled "jump" against her throat, picking her up effortlessly when she lamely tried to follow his orders.

He secured her legs around her waist and used the tree as leverage, thankful that in their horniness, he'd picked one that had grown at a slight angle so things were easier. His raw strength made her tremble as she clung to his shoulders, where his muscles felt softer through the fuzzy fabric of her sweater but she knew the power that was hidden beneath and could feel it from how he lifted her so easily.

Rutting his hips forward, they moaned in tandem as his cock slotted against her slit and steadily rocked through her slick, brushing against her clit with every move. Her mouth was pressed against his ear so he could hear every noise she made and his grip turned to steel when he caught on her entrance, prodding so he could feel her clench but not going any further.

"Can I fuck you, sweet girl? Can I fuck you here where anyone can see what's mine?" Ray asked into her hair, sliding his head through her lips to rile his lover up even more. His abs tensed at the thought of someone stumbling across them, a lone hiker or maybe even Bigfoot himself as he came to investigate their disappearance.

He'd never let them see anything, her pleasure-screwed face and soaked pussy were for his eyes only but a small, sadistic part of him hoped that their new "friend" caught a glimpse of him with his pants shoved down and his sweet girl wrapped in his embrace as he pumped into her.

That would stick in his head--maybe he'd remember who he was then. The man who was entirely devoted to the sweetest girl on Earth. The man who knew that sweetness better that anyone else.

"Shit--yes, please. Fuck me, I don't care if someone sees--" (y/n) pleaded, going half-insane from the contrast of the jagged bark on her back and the soft swipes of his cock. Ray didn't need telling twice and as her cries painted a smirk on his face, he pushed forward, staring between her legs as he began to disappear inch by inch. The woman threw her head back, not caring when it thunked against the tree, all that mattered was her fucking hot fiancé and his cock that stretched her walls for miles and miles.

He had the perfect view; her dress was bunched up around her waist and with the moon and stars to guide him, he could see how drenched she was in the dim light and how her pussy sucked him, welcoming him home. She was certain that some of her wetness had been there since the previous night, had not ceased gathering even when he left her alone with a glass of wine to nurse and nothing more and it only made it easier for him to bury himself to the hilt.

For a moment, he gave her a chance to adjust to his sheer size or maybe it was his way of masking how he was the one who needed a minute. Her walls were so damn tight around him and velvety soft, making searing white heat crawl up his spine until he got a grip on himself and started to rock into her.

"So dirty but you like it, don't you? You like having your little pussy filled in the middle of the woods," Ray said cockily, punching out each word in synch with a thrust of his hips, drawing moan after whimper from her mouth--and he sure as hell felt the way she tightened at the reminder of their surroundings. "Oh, you do, don't you? Like knowing that anyone could see you like this for me--see how you scream my name when I--"

"Fuck, Ray!" she cried when he snapped his hips into her at a different angle and hit a spot that made her see stars. Smirking when he saw the way it made jelly of her muscles, he began pummeling that spot, hearing nothing but the blood rushing through his ears and the slapslapslap of his balls against her thighs. Her squeaks and begging were music to his ears and he got lost in his sweet girl, nothing else existed apart from her, him and her tight heat as it ruined his cock.

"N-not gonna last long, darlin, not after last night--" he stuttered, feeling how tight his balls were and how they were begging to pump her full of cum before he exploded. He'd denied himself earlier and it had left him half-crazed, his body drying out for its soulmate so they could be one at last and he was finally succumbing to the call, succumbing to the sweet pull of her pussy and how it was waiting for him.

(y/n) whined something incoherent, too lost in the pleasure rippling through her body from the epicentre in her core. Steadily, she lowered one hand from his shoulders and dropped it to her clit to begin rubbing it in rough circles, her fingers slipping across soaked flesh. It was the push she needed to hurtle her towards the edge and she felt the familiar burn beginning to set in, one that began to blaze when Ray's lips brushed against hers and he captured her gaze.

"That's it, pretty girl. Rub this pussy for me, get it all nice and ready for my cum. Can you do that for me?" he asked in a teasing, condescending tone that had her nodding obediently. His thrusts increased as she doubled down on her clit, giving it light slaps like she knew he would if they were in a more comfortable setting.

Ray's eyes followed her movements and a gasp got stuck in his throat when he saw how the diamonds in the ring he gave her sparkled with every circle. Fuck, if that didn't make him go faster then nothing would and it wasn't long before he felt the fire return to lick up his spine. Her cunt, her moans, her tight grip on his hair, the sight of his fiancée fucking himself whilst he fucked her was enough to drag him to the edge and her with him when his thrusts faltered.

"Come with me, doofus. Fill me up before we go back," (y/n) whispered before biting his earlobe to smother her loudest moan of the night when he came with a groan, triggering her own end. Ropes of pearly cum flooded her heat as he pressed her against the tree and her orgasm stretched thin when the scraping pain mixed with the bliss. Ray whined and buried his face into her neck, staying as close to her as possible as he filled her up with his most intimate claim.

The heroine sighed at the serenity and rested her forehead against his shoulder as their breathing slowed down. He stayed inside of her for a while, unwilling to remove himself from her warmth when the air around them was so chill and he was more interested in kissing up her neck and running his thumbs across her ass as held her aloft still.

But, eventually, the chilliness of the air caught up with them and upon feeling his sweet girl shudder and snuggle into him more, Ray realised that her jacket had slipped down her arms when he was pounding into her. Not to mention the fact that she was still wearing that sorry excuse for a dress with her legs facing the elements.

So, he planted one final kiss on her pulse point and peeled her from the tree, hearing her whimper slightly as her scratched skin smoothed over and his cock jostled against her walls. He pulled out slowly, groaning when he felt his release begin to leak now that she wasn't plugged up.

"I've got you, sweetheart," the hero told her gently, setting her back down on shaky legs and ensuring that she didn't tumble to the forest floor. "You okay?"

"More than okay, doof. You feelin' better?" (y/n) asked with a breathy laugh. Her tummy fluttered when she felt his cum begin to ooze out of her and whilst she hated to lose it, knowing that it was there was near perfection.

"Much better but there is one thing that I need to do."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?" she asked perplexed, wondering what could be so important as he tucked himself away and tugged up his zipper with a shiver. It all became clear when he smirked her way and felt into his back pocket and brought out her panties, the ones he'd tucked away for safekeeping before having his way with her.

"Would you mind, sweet girl?" He held them open and with a giggle, (y/n) stepped into them as clumsily as she had taken them off, struggling to get her sneakers through the holes until he shimmied them up her legs. Carefully, Ray pulled them over her ass so none of his precious spend could be lost and he playfully squeezed her cheek before fixing her dress to check that she didn't walk anywhere with her butt showing.

"Does this mean I have to walk around with your cum in my underwear?" she questioned, leaning up to caress his lips with hers in a slow dance.

"Of course," Ray grinned, thoroughly in love with the idea that they had a dirty secret between them that no one would ever know but them. Perhaps he was being childish again but the thought of having one up of Bigfoot, having her as his lover since, in his eyes, any man would kill to be with her, made him gloat and preen. Speaking of the hairball...

"We should probably get back..." (y/n) mentioned and pulled his jacket across her body tighter to try and conserve some warmth. The campfire was sounding pretty nice round about now and even better if her doofus would be there to calmly snuggle with her, besides, the others were probably beginning to wonder how long one lap could take.

"You go on ahead, precious girl. I just wanna take a look at something before I go back, I won't be minute," the hero told her gently and gestured to some bushes in the direction they'd come from.

"Okay, doofus. Don't stay out here too long. I'd hate for something to happen to you," she smiled and pecked his cheek, giving one final warning for him not to be a hero when he wasn't in uniform. Ray chuckled at that and gave her ass a small smack as she walked away, laughing when she sent him a bright-eyed glare over her shoulder.

God, he hated watching her walk away but at least he could admire her with a longing gaze. Now, about that shiny thing he'd spotted...where was it?

*AND BREAK SCENE. THE SPICY MEATBALL IS OVER MY GUYS. THANK YOU FOR COMING, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED YOURSELVES, THIS IS SADLY ALL WE HAVE SPACE FOR SO, MIS INOCENTES, WELCOME BACK*

Even in the darkness, on her own and slightly intimidated by the possible Oogie-boogies lurking in the bushes, (y/n) steadily made it back to the camp. A slight left turn, straight on, past the bush that looked like Shirley Bassey and then a right to the small circle of rocks and stumps that seated her friends.

Just act normal, tell a small white lie and don't blush--whatever you do, don't blush!

"Hey, guys!" she smiled at them as she skipped back to her and Ray's rock and plonked down on it. In her mind, nothing was out of the ordinary and she'd already thought of her story, the one she'd slightly altered to a more suitable narrative. All they needed to do was buy it.

"Hey!"

"What took you so long?"

"Where's Ray?" The teens asked as Schwoz and Bigfoot mumbled and smiled their greetings. The woman laughed nervously at the influx of questions, some of which were easier to answer than others. At least they looked happy and ignorant, that at least meant their "lap" had been far enough away for any noises to dissipate.

"Oh, you know what Ray's like, such a drama queen. He needed a bit more time to cool off so I left him to wander for a bit while I get the feeling back in my fingers," she explained quickly and thank god, it checked out. Whether it be from her steady tone or her pleasant face, the teens nodded knowingly since that did sound like their boss and (y/n) had looked cold all night in that frock of hers.

"I just hope he's okay out there. It's pretty spooky."

"And dangerous!" Bigfoot added, watching the nice lady as she warmed her hands with the fire, flexing her fingers so that the heat seeped into them. Huh, it hadn't seemed that dangerous to her, scary once you were off the beaten track since you couldn't see the hidden roots and rocks as you were walking but apart from that, the woods weren't that bad.

"Why'd you say it was so dangerous out here?" Jasper asked, flexing his fingers too, although it wasn't from a lack of warmth, more like the hair of his palms growing disturbingly long to the point where his skin felt like it was right next to the glowing embers.

"There's this hunter--S. Thompson. He's been setting traps for me all over the woods," Biggie replied and no one liked the sound of that. Not only did the idea of their new friend being caged like an animal make them feel awful, but they also didn't feel safe anymore knowing that there were claws and contraptions hidden under leaves and branches.

And of course, their favourite idiot was out and about in it, hunting down the treasures he'd seen out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey!" Ray suddenly shouted and poked his head above the flora to show that his hunt had led him back to their vicinity...and the allure of his sweet girl too. "I found some pork chops just lying here on the ground!"

"No, no, don't--" The gentle giant tried to warn him off touching the pork chops but it was too late.

"G'ahhhhh, it was a trap!" Ray yelped in agony as a metal claw tanged and ensnared his arm with diabolic teeth. Luckily, he was the indestructible Captain Man, so there was no medical emergency, just the wailing of a lost lonely creature who should've followed its mate instead of sticking its nose where it didn't belong. "Monkey fungus, this hurts!"

"Oh my god..."

"You all right, dude? (y/n)'s worried!" Henry called to him and held a calming hand out to (y/n) to tell her that Ray was a big boy, she didn't need to run off to mollycoddle him. She was protective, he knew that, but technically this was on the idiot who just saw something he liked and grabbed it--come on, the world was not going to respond in the same way she did when he grabbed her ass.

"I'm o-kay!" Ray announced, easing his girl's worries with one bellow of his signature phrase. The pain wasn't so bad once his skin adjusted to the pressure and hell, it was worth it for a free pork chop that had been sitting on a dirty rock for who knows how long.

"Hey, is that a bottle of root beer? I'm gonna grab it," he suddenly gasped and no sooner than he did, he was off wandering in another direction, causing his friends to cringe. Something to was the crusty pork down, nice root beer that could've contained any other substance. Delicious.

"What? No, don't grab it! That's probably another trap, you doofus!" (y/n) shrieked over her shoulder but again, Ray didn't listen until he'd stuck his hand in yet another booby trap. The second the bottle left the pressure plate, it snapped shut on his other wrist with a force that would've broken the tendons there had it been anyone else.

"Cobra-Kai, that was equally painful! G'ahhhh..."

"That's the man you want to marry?" Charlotte asked (y/n) dryly, giving her one of her dubious looks as if to tell her that she was dumb for falling for such a moron. They were polar opposites, he could do very little right and she could do very little wrong; even if they had taught her what true love looked like, it was hard to see what the woman fell for since she wasn't the type to go solely off looks.

"Yeah...he has his good moments," she replied quietly and scuffed her sneaker against the dirt. She could name a million things that made her fall in love with Ray, starting with how kind he could, how gentle he was, and how he secretly cared more than anyone, to his floppy hair, baby blue eyes and goofy grin. Amongst other things.

"Oh my god, (y/n/n), what happened to your knees?" Jasper unexpectedly exclaimed, having watched the way she scratched her shoe into the ground and caught sight of the fading bruises.

They were barely visible, almost fully healed so really, she just had some very, very minor bruises that would disappear within the next five minutes. However, if Jasper knew her superpower, and he did, he'd say that for them to be like that, she must've scuffed them up pretty badly. What had happened?

"Oh, uh...um..." the woman stuttered and prayed that the heat from her cheeks couldn't be felt by the kids over the fire. She had to think of something quickly, something that couldn't be added to the pile of reasons why she adored her doofus because it would scar all of them for life.

"Oh, uh...on the way back, I tripped on a tree root and cut them! Nothing super-regeneration can't fix, though..." was her pathetic excuse, which thankfully, went over Henry and Jasper's heads as though the scenario was plausible. They nodded and smiled sympathetically, telling her to watch where she was going in future, powers or no powers, but Charlotte didn't look so convinced. Yeah, sure, she tripped all right. Straight onto Ray's--

"People have been hunting you for years. What's so special about this guy?" Schwoz asked, turning to Bigfoot who was strangely tense after Jasper mentioned (y/n)'s banged-up legs. They were grown-ups, not idiots and the hairy man cleared his throat before continuing, sparing his and the woman's blushes with some tactful conversation.

"He's really good. He knows exactly what I like; pork chops, root beer..."

"Season two of Will & Grace on Blu-Ray!" Ray shouted once more, having spotted the small plastic box on the floor but not the trap that was undoubtedly hidden beneath the shower of dried leaves and twigs.

"That's a good season!"

"That's a great season! Maybe I can pick it up with my foot..." the hero replied, having spent many a binge session with his sweet girl to watch the famous sitcom. It was a freebie, he had to get it but this time, he was going to outsmart the trap since his hands were full, sort of.

"Ray, stop!" Schwoz yelled, hoping to get him to come back but the man was a child--he looked with his hands, not his eyes.

"AHHHHHH! Sweet Megan Mullally, when will I learn my lesson?" he whimpered as his leg was captured too, the metal threatening to impale his skin, even though it was holding out. That was a good question, when would he? Probably never, which was why it was always best to send his handler rather than let him work it out for himself.

"Someone should go get him," Charlotte suggested, eyeing Henry and (y/n) since they were the ones her boss liked best. His sidekicks could handle him, no sweat.

"On it."

"Honestly, it's like looking after a goddamn toddler," the young woman sighed as she followed Henry speedily. Hopefully, they'd get to Ray before he did something idiotic enough to land himself in serious trouble and it was annoying that she had to move again when the fire had just begun to keep her toasty.

"Anyway..." Bigfoot said sadly, standing to his enormous height and going over to get a tangerine from Schwoz's basket as he watched the boy and girl jog away around the corner, "it's only a matter of time before that hunter, S. Thompson, catches me."

"Y'know, Biggie, my friends are superheroes. Maybe they can help get this guy off your back," the genius suggested. He hated to see one of his oldest and dearest friends so gloomy and if he could, he'd do anything to help. And one of the biggest ways he could do that was getting Ray, Henry and (y/n) to flex their super muscles, intimidate this asshat a little bit to leave the woods and its residents alone.

"Hey, Henry! Grab that top hat that's randomly lying on the ground!"

"No, dude. It's a trap!"

"But look how fancy it is!"

"Raymond! You already look like a fire-damaged Lady Gaga impersonator, don't you dare set off another one of these things!" Well, they were super most of the time. Schwoz and Charlotte shook their heads as they overheard the interaction of the sidekicks trying to get the hero to follow them, only for him to reiterate how dumb he was.

"I know, I'll just kick it out of the trap really fast before it closes!"

"No, you doof, that's not gonna work!--" (y/n) begged her lover and tried to grab onto his bicep and tug him away without aggravating the claw on his arm, but once Ray had an idea in his head, he didn't snap out of it. Not even when she whined at the sight of him getting lynched.

"Yeooooowwwwwww! Mamma mia, that's a spicy bear trap!" He yowled as his other got caught, meaning he was now snatched and snipped in all four corners; the pain was near unbearable but he had his prizes, including a dashing top hat that he hoped would make his despairing sweet girl fall for him.

"See what I mean? There are traps everywhere," Bigfoot sighed and Schwoz understood his predicament. From how easy it was to fool Ray, there was a different trap every few feet, so there was no wonder that he was on edge--one wrong move could spell disaster.

"Hey!" Ray yelled as he approached the clearing again, finally having been shoved that way after Henry wrestled him away from something else interesting - another spoil of bear trap war. "Did you guys know there's a bunch of traps and a really sweet top hat in the woods?"

"Yeah, did you also know there's a massive doofus who keeps falling for them too?" (y/n) hissed as she moodily walked behind him, watching how her lover limped from the pain and weight of the metal that clung to his body. He did look cute in the top hat, though, like a huge dork that her heart couldn't help but sing for no matter how much he irritated her with his antics.

The doofus wasn't the only creature falling that night. The sweet girls were at it too.

~A while later~

After peeling Ray from the traps, a task that had required all of them working together and a monumental amount of effort, the plan to save Bigfoot was well underway.

The heroes were in their uniform, ready to pounce should this S. Thompson guy show up prematurely but apart from the electric anticipation in the air, things were smooth.

Using one of his many contacts, Ray had brought in a large, steel booby trap, one that wasn't like one of those piddling little claw things that had got him. No, this was the real deal, something he'd used to trick criminals hundreds of times before.

It was a box, spread out flat across the woodland floor and when lifted by several ropes, it trapped whoever was dumb enough to be standing on it like an animal. It was genius, apart from the fact that they had yet to camouflage it.

"Thanks," Jasper nodded at Henry, who had taken the time to laser off the hair on the boy's hands since they had a lick of free time now that most of the work was done.

"Yeah, you got it," the sidekick smiled, glad to help out his buddy. Well, he'd mainly done it to stop his complaints, not to mention the fact that the sight of the ever-growing hairs was starting to freak him out.

"It was really hard to go to the bathroom with all of that hand hair."

"I don't wanna hear about it," Henry said quickly, recoiling at the image of Jasper doing stuff and then, stuff getting on things and...ew. He did not want to hear about that, too much information but it didn't deter Jasper, not at all.

Sensing his friend's discomfort, he merely smiled and warmly patted his arm before walking off, mentioning something about enlightening poor Charlotte with his toilet troubles instead. She and (y/n) had been sent off on a very important mission whilst the guys did all of the heavy liftings with the trap; they were told to collect twigs and moss and leaves--that sort of thing--any material that would cover the metal sheets and blend it into the ground.

"Hey, we got the pine needles you wanted to cover the trap!" Charlotte announced, shuffling back into the clearing with a fluffy mound of brown foliage. Twigs, moss and leaves weren't that easy to carry, but millions of pine needles could easily be scooped up, even if they didn't make them feel itchy and scratchy.

Walking to the centre of the flat box, the girls dumped their loads, watching as it fluttered to the ground and covered about one per cent of the metal, which didn't help them. The needles clumped together, so all it was were two brown lumps on the ground, not the thick camo they were after.

"Oh my god, where'd the trap go?" Henry asked sarcastically, looking at the two who didn't respond well to his dry quip. He'd expected them to either bring more or at least try and spread it out, give them a bit more coverage, but frankly, it was a pathetic effort on their part.

"Seriously, sweet girl? That's all the pine needles you could get?" Ray turned to his fiancée, whose eyes narrowed at the prospect of him pointing the blame but he didn't sound mean or angry, just soft and questioning. Right, the others could be told off but never her--she was the one he was enchanted by.

"Well, doofus, we could've gotten more if maybe someone would've helped us. I don't know, maybe someone with floofy hair and thirty-two-inch biceps?" (y/n) replied frankly, her hands on her hips since she wasn't a miracle worker.

If she was an octopus, she would've been able to carry eight times that amount, or if she was a magician, she could float them over, but she wasn't. She was just a superheroine who'd tripped a million times in her cute boots that were sadly not designed for rocky terrain and had a lover who'd been too busy strutting about like an egotistical peacock to help her and Charlotte.

"Don't worry, darlin'. I got you," he smirked and for a moment, she genuinely thought that she'd gotten through to him with her flirting and stroking of his ego but then, he had to go and ruin it, "Jasper! Schwoz! Go with Charlotte and Miss Danger and get more pine needles."

The boss had spoken and upon receiving his command, the boys and girl sloped off to go and scavenge for more needles, leaving (y/n) to give him a boring look. And people said chivalry was dead.

"Wow, Captain Man. Thanks a lot!" She exclaimed in a faux excited voice, turning lethargically on her heel but not before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. He might have pissed her off but she'd never leave without giving him one, otherwise, she'd never be able to concentrate on anything other than the knowledge that her doofus might not know how much she loved him. And she could never have that.

"So, what's the plan?" Bigfoot asked as the woman walked off to tell Jasper not to eat any unknown substances. It was his voice that broke Ray out of his trance, having been totally in a dream as he followed her figure until it had rounded the corner completely. What? What was that? Had he been thinking about her thighs again? Certainly not!

"We're gonna trap that jerk-bag hunter," Ray replied calmly. He still wasn't awed to be in Bigfoot's presence but he could tolerate him now that his system was clear and he had a job to focus on.

"Yeahhhhh, Bigfoot likey!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, and then, as soon as we spring the trap, Captain Man and I will pop out and he won't even remember that you're Bigfoot.

"Oh, solid plan!" The hairy man grinned as Henry explained what they were gonna do and it did sound pretty cool. The hunter couldn't hunt if he didn't know what he was hunting, which was what made it so clever, if only they were that too. After all, they were so busy chuckling that they didn't notice the predator circling them.

"How does this trap worked?" Biggie asked, distracting them yet again from their surroundings. The stalker in the bushes was good at his job as Bigfoot had described, so he knew how to muffle his footsteps and creep about in the shadows to the extent that not even the great Captain Man with all of his experience knew what was happening.

"Great question, 'Foot!"

"You're gonna stand right over there and when the hunter sees you, he's gonna be like, doo-do-doo-do-doo-do! There's Bigfoot!" Ray played it out, acting like an idiot as he scampered over to stand in the middle of the trap.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, and then, he's gonna walk over and stand right here--this spot," Henry carried on, moving to stand next to his boss so they were adjacent to the pathetic pile of pine needles. They were so dumb; Thompson was standing right there and they didn't even know it, and neither did they see how huddling together was a really crap idea.

"Right here?"

"Mhmm, right where we're standing right now," Ray nodded to the other man, who was now in the centre of the box too, looking around intently but not that intently...or carefully.

"And then, Schwoz will hit a button and he'll spring the trap."

"This trap right here?" Bigfoot pointed to the metal under their feet, just to make sure he knew what they were planning. After all, it was his safety and everything.

"The same."

"The one we're standing over right now."

"And where is this button that springs the trap we're standing on right now?" Bigfoot asked, not realising that his biggest foe was eavesdropping on every word they were saying. It was like they wanted him to know how to outwit them or like they had a death wish because Thompson was getting some great tips on how to catch the beast he'd been after for so many years.

"Another great question, 'Foot. It is riiiiiiiggggghhhtt...there," Henry slurred, looking around for the button since he hadn't been paying attention when Schwox had been setting it up. He and Ray scanned the trees and surrounding bushes before their eyes landed on one big red button that had been nailed to a tree trunk. And that's when they finally noticed the man in the high-vis vest standing next to it.

"Hey there, fella!" Ray suddenly said in a tight, chirpy voice that didn't soothe or fool Thompson. He knew a nervous person when he cornered one or three, including his prize.

"Would you mind stepping over here to the--" Too late. Nothing Ray could've said would have convinced Thompson to do anything but whack the button; he'd waited years to catch Bigfoot and now, he had him and he'd virtually walked into a trap set by himself. He wouldn't pass up that opportunity. Immediately, the trap was sprung and a series of pulleys above their heads pulled the walls up, magnetically locking the three in a solid steel box.

"Woo!" The hunters had become the hunted.

Inside, Ray pulled a portable light from his belt and stuck it to the wall, giving them light now that the moon was hidden due to the height of the metal. It wasn't great but at least they could sort of see.

"Okay, we need a new plan..." Henry hissed to his boss, who knew that it was just a question of what. They couldn't get out, not on their own and little did Thompson know but they had two teens and a weirdo and a hot superhero out in the woods as a backup. He knew what to do.

"Scream for help?"

"Scream for help." Henry nodded and instantly, the three bawled at the top of their lungs. The noise ricocheted out and into the night air as they begged for mercy, for someone to come get them and for the hunter to not hurt them--Ray even tried thumping on the walls to no avail. All that could be heard was that hillbilly celebrating his easiest victory ever.

"Woo! Gah! Yeeewoo! Finally got Bigfoot! Yeah, gah, you're in there, boy! Woo!" He screamed and banged his fist against the steel, causing Biggie to jump at the racket as his enemy taunted him. "I'm gonna call the news right now! That's right, I'm gonna be famous! I'm definitely gonna get married now..."

"Not before I do, buddy..." Ray muttered, fully aware that the asshole couldn't hear him but still. He wasn't gonna be carted off like some freak and fail his mission there had to be some way out, after all, he had a very important date to make at some point. And even so, he doubted that any girl would want to come in three feet of a man who wanted to poach innocent beings.

"Dude, he's calling the news. What are we gonna do?" Henry questioned worriedly and ignored the murmurings that fell from his boss' mouth. He was more concerned with their current predicament than whether Thompson thought he was God's gift to women or water.

"Oh, come on. Like the news is gonna pick up..." the hero scoffed at his sidekick's worries. Not to be mean or anything but S. Thompson was a bit of a weirdo and he doubted that the news would pay attention to him at all--if anything, this would be a wake-up call for him to get a proper job.

"This is the hunter, S. Thompson and I trapped Bigfoot. Bring your cameras, you can be the first people in the world to show pictures of him!" The hunter's hushed voice came from outside and quickly, Henry gave Ray the stink eye. He just had to jinx it, didn't he?

Yeah, the news was interested, they had very little else to do, so now, Mary, Trent and probably all the other creature fanatics in Swellview were headed their way.

"He called the news! They're on the way!" Bigfoot exclaimed in a panicky voice. He was freaking out at the thought of being exposed to the world and from the sounds of it, he was near tears at the thought of being labelled a mutant, a sideshow freak.

"Relax, 'Foot, I'm gonna laser us outta here," Ray told him soothingly as he plucked his controller from his belt. He'd had a great idea and hell, it had once been tried in a movie so it might work now, even if in that movie, the theory hadn't panned out.

"What? No, no, no, dude, it's diamond-plated steel--" Henry tried to warn him that firing a laser could have disastrous consequences but like always, Ray didn't listen. Schwoz and (y/n) had said something about the metal being extremely durable and resistant, so a silly laser wouldn't do a thing, not even a scratch, as they were about to see.

Ray fired a small shot, not at full strength but not a mild one either, but when it came into contact with the patch of walls above their heads, the plasma bounced. It another plate and another and another, ricocheting all around them until it burned a hole in Bigfoot's fur.

"Ow!" He yelped in pain as the heat seared away all of the hair to leave his skin underneath smooth and pale. Definitely not one of Ray's best ideas.

"Maybe if I set this thing to kill..." he muttered, again not thinking with his head. Stupidly, he didn't make the connection that a stronger laser wouldn't help, all it would do was render one of them dead, so Henry would have to wrestle to stop him before something disastrous happened...or maybe not. He'd just had a brainwave.

"Hang on a second. Dude, dudedudedudedudedudedude--"

"What? What?" Ray looked at him, agitated from all of the pesterings. Seriously, that was as annoying as (y/n) begging him for a slurp of his drinks all of the time but without any of the butterflies.

"Dude, look at his arm," Kid Danger said, pointing to Biggie's right arm, the one that had been nicked by the rogue laser.

"Yeah, it's big, but mine are way bigger," the man replied, not seeing the significance of the other guy's arms when his were superb. Come on, they made Miss Danger swoon whenever he tensed them and so, that's what he did, flexed them to make them puff up into the physique that he was well-known for.

"What? No, that's not what I'm--" the boy shook his head and got his boss to knock it off because his name wasn't (y/n) - thirty-two-inch biceps didn't work on him. "Look at the bald spot! It looks like he's got normal skin." He redirected his attention to the lasered spot, which kinda looked like Jasper's head had been after the unfortunate incident.

"So?" Ray shrugged again, not seeing why the kid was getting so pumped over silly old Bigfoot.

"So, this might sound crazy but...what if we shave Bigfoot with our lasers?" Henry suggested, looking at Ray with a devious smirk. Hell yeah, it was crazy and kooky but they were desperate, so maybe they needed a bit of that.

"Okay...love that," Ray was up for it anyway. After the Jasper incident, he'd discover that seeing someone with their hair gone was pretty funny and besides, Bigfoot was known for being hairy--what would the news crews do if they turned up to a pink blob and two superheroes? Probably nothing.

"Uh...I don't know, guys. My hair is kind of my thing," the hairy man said anxiously. He had some doubts, which was understandable but it might be their only option.

"Exactly! So, if we zap your hair off, when they open this up, it'll just be three totally normal, hairless dudes just chilling in the woods!" Henry explained. Honestly, Biggie didn't know if getting caught as a beast or as one of three guys in the woods was worst--the boy did make it sound a bit weird, especially when he and Ray did their weird little hand-wiggle thing.

"Hairless boys!"

"Exactly!" They grinned and did their little high-pitched tongue noises as their fingers wiggled together before looking at the man expectantly.

"Uh, I don't know..." Bigfoot debated, sounding unsure since it had taken him a long time to get to be the walking carpet he was now. How long would it be until he got his hirsute splendour back? But then...

"Woo! Ya hear that? The news is comin'! Yeah, the world is finally gonna know the name of the hunter, S. Thompson! You're mine now, ya big, smelly hairbag!" The obnoxious poacher's voice came from outside and the southern drawl sent a shiver down Bigfoot's spine. Right, he had to remember the alternative and what would happen to him if he didn't lose his hair. It didn't bear thinking about.

"Be gentle..." Finally, he came to a decision; the hair had to go. At least if they set it to a weaker setting then the beam wouldn't be as strong or painful, and so, with the devices turned down low, Henry and Ray got to work. Biggie's eyes were squeezed shut as green light began to glide across his fur, taking it away bit by bit.

It was just hair. It would grow back. Being bald was temporary, being trapped and experimented on was forever.

~Deeper in the woods~

Whilst all of that had been going on with the boys, (y/n) had been traipsing after Schwoz, Charlotte and Jasper for what seemed like forever.

The boy kept seeing bright plants and flowers that he liked the look of--plants and flowers that (y/n) could swear were poisonous so she had a job keeping him alive as they each collected large armfuls of pine needles until they could carry no more.

They'd been at it for a good ten minutes, surely, they had enough to satisfy Ray and cover the trap, besides, Charlotte and Jasper could swear that she was getting antsier the longer she was away from her doofus. Stupid love, it made them so silly.

"Hey, I got more pine needles for the trap!"

"Me too!" The girls shouted as they came stumbling back from different routes, having decided that foraging in different clearings would be the best idea. Schwoz was already stood at the meeting point and like them, could barely see over his collection it was that plentiful.

"Okay, just put them over there by the bush--" he instructed them, thinking that they were gonna return to the campsite in a moment but he didn't expect them to just dump their loads on him. As if he was some sort of pack mule, Charlotte dumped her needles on top of his and because of that, (y/n) copied her, believing that he'd kindly offered to carry them so their arms wouldn't get all itchy.

"Wait, wait, that is not--" His protests came too late and then, Jasper returned as well with yet more pine needles.

"Comin' in with needles!" He shouted, carrying another million or so and Charlotte knew exactly what to do with them, after all, they weren't heavy or anything.

"Oh, give 'em to Schwoz."

"No, do not do that!" the genius protested, thinking that he could barely see as it was, he didn't want more needles on top of him. But Jasper had a problem, one that hadn't been taken care of earlier when Henry kindly volunteered to trim his hand hair because, for the most part, it had been forgotten about.

"I can't hear with all this ear hair!" Jasper yelled at an unnecessary volume and now that they looked, the girl could see that he had long tufts of hair sprouting from inside his ears. Schwoz had said not to itch them and Henry hadn't lasered them, so he was having a hard time listening to anything--including himself.

"Give--your--pine needles--to Schwoz!" (y/n) shouted directly into his ear, hoping that she was being loud enough to penetrate the long strands. Jasper strained to catch every word and nodded as he got the just of it, much to the small man's displeasure.

"Okay!"

"Wait! Don't--arghh!" he groaned as the final pile was added and whilst one small bundle weighed practically nothing, added together, it was quite hefty, enough to make him feel a slight strain. "I know my muscles are huge but--

"Hey, guys!" A voice suddenly came from the right to cut off Schwoz. He couldn't see who it was but for (y/n), Jasper and Charlotte, it was highly familiar--Piper. (y/n) squeaked at the thought of her seeing Miss Danger in the woods, fraternising with two teens who she wasn't supposed to know and in a split second of panic, she froze and looked for a place to hide as the girl approached.

"Someone caught Bigfoot in a trap--bye!" And like that, she was gone. Piper didn't even register that a gobsmacked heroine had been in the clearing, as well as a walking haystack so it was a surreal experience until the panic set in again for a whole different reason.

"Wait, what did she say?" Schwoz asked, not having heard the shocking news above the rustling of the pine needles. Plus, it was kinda hard to believe it since they were trying to do the reverse.

"Someone taught Bigfoot how to rap!" Jasper replied loudly, getting nearly all of the words wrong thanks to his hairy ears. To be fair, Piper had only been present for all of three seconds and Charlotte had (y/n) barely caught it, so he was at a disadvantage.

"No! Someone--caught--Bigfoot--in a trap!" Charlotte yelled, sounding out each word as the heroine had done earlier so he had time to catch them. Well, that didn't sound good at all, especially since if Bigfoot was trapped, then something must've happened to Ray and Henry too. Oh, god...

"We need to get back there!" (y/n) breathed out and gestured for the kids to run after her as a chill ran down her body. Her sweet doofus, Henry, Biggie, something must've happened, so she took off running with the teens hot on her heels as Schwoz floundered with the now useless needles.

"Wait, what about the pine needles?" He called after them.

"Who cares?!" Charlotte screamed over her shoulder and by that point, she was already gone by the time Schwoz said that he did. Miss Danger would have a heart attack if anything happened to her companions, especially her soulmate, but the genius was more concerned about what they had spent so long collecting.

But he didn't have to think about it for long because as he worried about what to do with them, a large, grumbling man emerged from the bushes, heading straight for him. In his drunken state, the man collided with Schwoz, coating himself with the needles that for some reason stuck to him like glue and when he roared from the pain, Schwoz took off running.

He knew a monster when he saw one, even if that monster looked strangely familiar, so he left it to gurgle and claw at the fuzz clinging to his skin so he could make a break for it and catch up with the others.

In the clearing, things had started to heat up.

True to their word to S. Thompson, the news and all of their helicopters, crews and the genuine desk had turned up for the big report, one that would make the hunter famous once and for all. Trent and Mary were here and as soon as the cameras started rolling, he'd spring it for them to see, for the entire world to see.

Not only that, but a group of enthusiasts and local busybodies had arrived, hoping to catch a glimpse of the real-life Bigfoot in the man's trap, so their phones were ready for the big moment, whenever that would come.

"This is insane..." (y/n) grumbled to Charlotte and Jasper, her arms folded as she watched the news desk be lowered from the helicopter for Trent and Mary to sit at.

There had been a few murmured whispers about why Miss Danger had suddenly stormed onto the scene with her face like thunder and two teenagers and a weirdo following her but she was too worried to pay attention. Apparently, Bigfoot was in their trap, which had worked perfectly only on the wrong people, and she just knew that her doofus was stuck in there too--the doofus.

"That's good, Rick!" Trent shouted to the helicopter pilot once the desk was firmly on the ground for her and Mary to sit at.

"Did I miss Bigfoot?" Piper asked Mitch Bilsky, who had indeed been the terrified camper spooked by Biggie earlier. The girl had been slowed down by her dad, who'd gotten lost somewhere along the way after eating some poisonous fungus, but she'd left him behind when the whir of the helicopter sounded above her head. Bigfoot was more important.

"Nah, that guy's about to reveal him right now," Mitch replied, pointing to Thompson as he loitered around the trap, "I'm gonna get a video of me looking at his feet going, what are those?!"

"If I could have everyone's attention!" The hunter announced and looked to the crowd where Mitch was being so immature, "I'd like to give a little speech." He said tenderly, annoying the buzzing crowd who weren't much for mushy sentimentality.

"Websters defines a hero as a big sandwich...but if you look a little further down--"

"Just open it up, ya gunch!" Mitch yelled, interrupting the dumb speech that was in no way relevant or tearjerking. For once, (y/n) was grateful for his big mouth and shuffled from one foot to another as the seconds lagged. She didn't want to hear some shit about sandwiches when her friends and lover were trapped inside and about to be revealed to the world.

"Fine, I'll open it," Thompson huffed, annoyed that his glorious moment as a hero had been shot down, but the best was yet to come as he grabbed the trap's release.

"Behold! Bigfoot!" he cried and the walls fell into their original flat position. As (y/n) had predicted, Ray and Henry had indeed gotten trapped with Bigfoot, caught by that dumbass hunter but along with the heroes was a being who blew her mind.

The cameras flashed as everyone gawked at the guy who was supposedly Bigfoot, but he wasn't. What had been fur was now smooth, pale skin that had seen little sunlight and the teens, (y/n) and Schwoz gasped as they saw Biggie looking like a proper man. His hair and beard were clipped, as were his torso and legs save for a section around his butt that had been kept furry to save his modesty. Honestly, they were just two heroes and a guy in furry pants, what was epic about that?

"Hey, everybody!"

"Hi, people of Swellview..." Ray and Henry greeted the crowd awkwardly as Bigfoot held his breath and tried not to shiver from the newfound cold. Ray turned to wink at his sweet girl, who sighed with relief when she saw that they were all okay but he wasn't able to quell her questioning look, not without tipping off the crowd that they were in the middle of a scheme.

"Trent, Mary, how's it goin'?"

"How are you?" They then turned to news crews, who looked equally perplexed because they had been expecting Bigfoot, not the crimefighters and some random big guy with weird fashion sense. S. Thompson had gone strangely pale and quiet as he took in his prize--or lack thereof--and he couldn't work out what had happened.

"So...where's Bigfoot?" Trent asked, searching the scene but coming up empty. God, he hated hoaxes.

"He's there! He's right there, look!" S. Thompson snapped, pointing directly at Biggie, who merely appeared shrewd and harmless at such an indictment, turning around as if he was just another curious onlooker--just how Ray and Henry had told him to act. If he looked in a mirror, he wouldn't recognise himself, let alone the fanatics and journalists around them, who always saw Bigfoot in one specific light.

"Who, Eddie? This is just our friend, Eddie," Captain Man lied, brushing away the hunter's accusations with faux innocence and his signature trustworthy persona. Everyone believed their favourite heroes because they loved them so much and their cunning made Charlotte, Jasper, (y/n) and Schwoz smirk at each other.

"Hi, I'm Eddie!" Bigfoot waved to the baffled crowd with a big grin on his face. They were confused but didn't suspect a thing; perfect.

"Yeah, and Eddie here, he--he likes to wear...hair shorts."

"Which are a real thing!" Henry said and was quickly backed up by Ray when everyone's gaze fell to Bigfoot's curious attire. Well, they couldn't leave him naked and from a distance, they just looked like a peculiar garment; it wouldn't be the first time Swellview had been hit by weird fashions, the hip youth was always doing odd stuff.

"Whoa...I never heard of no hair shorts," Thompson protested, glaring at the heroes as they tried to slip his prize out from under his nose. He knew the truth, he could smell Bigfoot after so many years of studying and he wasn't going to let them convince the crowd otherwise.

"Well, I have!" (y/n) abruptly exclaimed, crossing the clearing to come and stand in between Henry and her doofus, bringing with her an opinion that the citizens of Swellview could never refuse.

Miss Danger was often spotted in every magazine going, whether they be gossip or fashion because everyone wanted to know what she thought or wore or liked, so if she put her seal of approval on hair shorts then they would be in every boutique in the city before the next sunrise.

"Yeah, I've heard of hair shorts and I think that they are the coolest. I have so many pairs at home!" She lied through her beaming smile as Ray stood smugly next to her and put his arm around her waist. She smiled at that, feeling her heart flutter now that she knew he was safe and sound, even if the camera flashes meant that they'd be headlining the news again as the city's hottest couple.

"Did you hear? Miss Danger says that hair shorts are the coolest!" Charlotte repeated to the crowd in a robotic voice like she was an avid fan eager to follow the heroine's way of life to a tee.

"Yeah! And she's an influencer so hair shorts have to be cool!" Jasper carried on, sending the crowd into a hush of whispers because that's how society worked in the modern era. Celebrities were the leaders and the mere mortal public were the sheep and none could be prouder than Ray as he stood on the arm of the hottest woman in town.

"I--I mean, those are the rules," Piper acknowledged. She was an internet loiterer, constantly checking and refreshing every app and website going for new trends and gossip, so she'd know what to do if one of her idols said something; follow it to the letter.

"Come on, guys. Let's go get some hair shorts!" Mitch smirked at his pack of buffoons, showing that the pack mentality was starting to work--hair shorts would be popular come tomorrow afternoon. And that did not please Thompson.

"No, wait! Don't leave!" he begged the crowd, who were beginning to lose interest now that they knew that Bigfoot was still a mystery and he a loony. "Y'all, that's Bigfoot and I found him! And I'm gonna get married!"

"Fat chance of that..." (y/n) said under her breath so only Ray and Henry could hear her. The man chuckled at her response that was along the lines of his and it was when he had pressed his lips to her temple joyfully that something came stumbling out of the undergrowth.

The crowd gasped as a hulking, moaning creature staggered into the clearing, looking like it had been in a fight with a dead bush and lost, and sounding like it was in pain--kinda like Bigfoot. He was hairy, sort of, and animalistic in his manner, so they snapped a few pictures for evidence of what was actually Mr Hart covered in a load of sap, pine needles from Schwoz, whilst slightly high from the moss that he'd eaten by mistake.

"That's Bigfoot!" Mary cried from the desk, pointing at the terrifying monster as it snarl at the stunned crowd, who quickly descended into madness as they saw what looked like a creature from a fairytale.

As the disorientated man swayed, they charged, eager to get a hold of Bigfoot and Mr Hart ran for his life, the bleariness in his eyes making it difficult until they were all lead away from the trap. And that left the Man Cave team and "Eddie" alone at last.

"Well, that just about wraps it up," Ray said with a clap of his hands and he could honestly say that he was ready to go home. He had unfinished business with his sweet girl and the idea of falling asleep with her as they watched movies in the bed sounded heavenly.

"So..." Henry nodded, knowing that there wasn't much else for them to do now that all of the hunters were on the wrong trail and they'd met Schwoz's friend as they had set out to do. "You guys wanna go back to the Man Cave and watch Will & Grace?"

"Season two?" Biggie asked.

"Do you even have to ask?" Henry giggled and the man and boy bumped fists as everyone agreed that the plan couldn't be better. Well, that would (y/n) and Ray down to the ground, they'd fall asleep watching anything, in their room or not in their room, as long as they could cuddle, which they inevitably would.

"Let's go!" (y/n) grinned and ushered them all to get moving so they could leave all of the drama behind. However, as the teens, Schwoz and Bigfoot turned to go, Ray's eyes wandered and spotted something shiny and interesting yet again. There were so many traps yet for him to discover...so many things for him to take.

"Ooooh, look. Some cheese titos!" he smirked deviously and wiggled his fingers, indicating that he was gonna swipe them for a binge-watching snack. He would never learn his lesson, no matter how many times he hurt himself or had his fingers smacked by his precious girl.

"What? No, dude, no!" Henry tried to stop him, not wanting to go through the same struggle again but this time, (y/n) was willing to let Ray learn for himself. After all, once bitten twice shy, right?

"No, kid, just let him. Sadly, this is the only way he'll learn," she sighed and held a hand out for him to stay where he was. He was her doofus and she loved him but she wasn't going to spend their lives together running around to wrap him in cotton wool. He couldn't be an idiot forever, he'd soon learn to keep his hands to himself.

"These things are cheesetastic!" Ray grinned and reached down to grab the bag as he kept smiling at his tired fiancée. He'd just get these and then, they could go because of course, he wasn't aware that he was the one tiring her out with his antics.

"ARGGGGGGHHHHH!" And then came the pain. The claw closed on his hand as the others had and it was like his hand was being ripped off constantly but refusing to let go of his wrist. "Crunchy snacks, that smarts!"

His friends cringed but as the pain passed, they assumed that he'd hobble back to (y/n)'s side to lick his wounds and seek her comfort, but no. In true Ray fashion and despite his silent promise, the hero looked to his left and saw something else, another doohickey that he fancied, and he figured that one more trinket could hurt. Traps could hurt, though, and hearing him in pain was even worse for some.

"Hey, look! A cane! That'll go perfect with my top hat!" he noted as he ate a chip and felt so giddy about the idea of being a pristine gentleman for his sweet girl that he skipped off to go and retrieve it. At this rate, they'd never go home, not until he was immobilised by metal and carrying a bag full of worthless tat.

"Or...he'll never learn." the heroine lamented, burying her face in her hands as Ray went off again...and got trapped again. Did he not know that he was breaking her heart and tearing down every word she said in his defence? She could get him titos if he wanted and she didn't need him to dress up, dressing down was preferable and now, he was a bigger doofus than ever.

"Ow! Puttin' on the Ritz, that hurts!"

"Are you sure you wanna marry him? It's not too late to run for it, y'know..." Charlotte retorted to the woman, who didn't take any offence from her words. She was joking, that was clear, the girl would never ruin the relationship that she helped to forge, but it had to be said yet again.

They were so different and him so difficult--did she really want to sign herself up for a lifetime of that?

"You don't know my doofus like I do. He's a massive idiot and he drives me insane but he's my massive idiot. I wouldn't have it any other way... I love him."

Hell yeah, she did.

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gimmiesomehoneynsugar · 10 months

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It Lead to this

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Info Rocket/Gn Reader Refrence to smut, word count 1180

(Hi! I made a promise to make gender neutral versions of my stories and here you chapter 1 of my first chapter length fic Enjoy!)

You wake up with blurry eyes, stiff muscles and a warm fuzzy ball beside you oh wait, that's Rocket, you stayed over after the celebration last night over the high evolutionary being defeated and freeing all the victims. This happens between you too much, hence you’ve got a couple of spare clothes now at his place as well as your toothbrush.

Your arms are still wrapped around his bare furry back so warm beside your skin, speaking of skin you didn’t put a shirt on after the spicy event of Rocket dragging you away from the party and having your little celebration. Have you ever seen him so peaceful other than now with his tormentors no longer able to harm him, never even in his sleep he seemed stressed.

You slowly move your arms away from him covering him back up with the doona, you grab a spare graphic shirt, slowly putting it on as Rocket softly wakes up, but you're too busy trying to find your socks n shoes to notice his eyes sluggishly opening.

He quickly shuts his eyes again just before you reach over to kiss his forehead as a quiet goodbye, you had work today and we’re not in the mood to hear any bullshit from your boss. Grabbing your bag and phone you walk out of his room into the hallway and just as you're about to open the door, Groot says your name as well as Adam yawns next to him, both looking as haggard as you.

“Hey.. good morning sorry if you heard stuff..,” you said sheepishly with your hand inches away from you opening the door.

“I am Groot?”(you don’t usually leave this early?) he questioned you leaning his shoulder on the hallway wall.

“Yeah, what the tree man said,” Adam agreed, not knowing much about you other than your Rocket’s sneaky link.

“Yeah… I’ve got work and I’m not a fan of my boss bitching about me being two hours late. I've already had to do overtime and I’m not in the mood for that,” You claimed, now leaning your back on the door.

“I am Groot,”(Yes but I’ve seen you eat breakfast here saying this is worth more than your Bitchy job and that bitch of a boss, tell me why change?) he asked while slightly smirking.

You’ve been keeping this in for a while and now feels like a better time before you change more.“Uh well.. I’m trying to distance myself from Rocket and I uh.. see this as a silent painless way,” you said while scratching the back of your head looking away.

Both Groot and Adam are in shock, Groot gasping as Adam covers his mouth with his jaw dropped.

“I am Groot!”(But why, you both seemed to be getting closer these past couple of months, I thought it’d be any day now you’d be dating, why!?) he asked with a shocked sense of curiosity all while Adam crouched down in absolute shock now his hands holding his head.

“Well I do like Rocket, sure but he’s clearly said before that he's not interested in a more serious relationship, and is busy with the management of all the animals,” you said now avoiding eye contact with Groot rubbing your shoulder.

*— — — *

Your mind retraces back to last night's enormous party. Confetti, drinks, music and what I could tell more than a hundred neighbours and friends celebrating, you’ve had this question on your mind for a while, it has been a couple of months since you both became infatuated with each other.

At least twice a week Rocket and you would sneak away going on little dates, shopping, restaurants and bars. Or just hours together enjoying each other's affection like teenagers. It felt like you were dating but he never expressed if you guys were a couple or not even after drowning you in his gifts, verbal and physical affection. It honestly just confused you even more.

You’d have had enough of his vagueness and needed to put a label on this relationship if not you would've gone mad, just before Rocket walks into the bar with the rest of his family, you quickly tap his shoulder coaxing him into the ally way before anyone notices you both vanished.

“You okay doll?” he questioned you with an energised grin on his face.

“Rocket, I’ll just say this… what are we?” you asked bluntly not wanting to beat around the bush anymore, crouching down to his height with such dread not wanting to ruin the one good thing in your life.

“What, what do you mean?” his smile dropped and now he was just confused at your out-of-nowhere question, it honestly made him more nervous than it should.

“This Rocket, us what are we, are we dating or just fuck buddies, I’d just like to put a label on this before we go further,” you said as your body felt like it was sinking in your anxiety.

“What we are just fuck buddies, we never went far with affection,” he proclaimed looking away, your heart sank hearing such words.

“Really?! you don’t see what I see?, the constant verbal affection, the dates the gifts the overwhelming love you shower me with, I don’t mind staying as we are now but I feel like it’s becoming more than just ‘fuck buddies’, I don't want to get attached Rocket.” You spoke, tears swell in your eyes, you felt like you were drowning in hopelessness and anxiety of losing the one good thing keeping you sane.

He’s a bit shocked by your reply, as he is about to give a comeback to deny any of this. Still, he remembers doing all those things, he remembers the gifts he saw in the plaza thinking they would look great on you, he remembers calling you in the middle of the night just because he saw a star that reminded him of you. Something more was going on with his actions but he didn’t know how to put it in words to you, all he knew was that when you were next to him, he still missed you. But with new emotions and newer actions became more panic for him.

“Look doll, I also like what we have going on but, I’m just busy right now and I can’t afford to have a more serious relationship. For tomorrow on I have to deal with over 100 animals and figure out where they go on this freakin skull,” He said sheepishly trying to talk in a calm tone but inside he is freaking out just blurting the most apparent stuff trying to deflect himself.

Although it wasn't what you wanted to hear at all, you are at least glad that your anxiety can be quelled over time by distancing yourself.

“Are you satisfied now, is this what you wanted from me?” he quelled getting a bit antsy.

“Yes, Rocket… thank you,” you said so bittersweetly, pushing down the feelings that bloomed like stepping on a flower.

Chapter 2 will be posted soon! If you can’t wait go check out my Ao3 same name and icon!

#guardians of the galaxy #rocket gotg #rocket raccoon #gotg 3 spoilers #gotg volume 3 spoilers #marvel #high evolutionary #rocket/reader #rocket racoon #Rocket Fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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pepperonibread · 9 months

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Across The Great Divide - Chapter One: Highwinds Finest

Rating: Mature (later chapters may get spicy) Warnings: Depictions of Violence (later chapters may get spicy) Category: F/M Relationships: Builder/Logan|Builder/Unsurr (gotta love a good love triangle) Published: 8/16/2023 Words: 9,023 Chapters: 1/? Read on a03 (or below) Sandrock, with its promise of new beginnings, was meant to be the canvas upon which Kiran could paint over the lingering bitterness of her history, a chance to distance herself from the person she had been and the memories she had to abandon. Among the rugged landscapes and sun-drenched horizons, she hoped to find a fresh start, untainted by the shadows of her previous life. The challenges that the town faced were no longer mere obstacles but enigmatic puzzles that begged to be solved. And within this tapestry of trials, she found herself entangled in unexpected situations – the allure of daring bandits with a roguish charm, the enigmatic pull of a deputy whose eyes seemed to hold secrets, and the stirring emotions that formed the corners of a love triangle; but her father had always told her "you get what you pay for, girly."

Chapter Notes: Well, I finally finished the first chapter of my Sandrock builder's story. I don't have much to say about it other than it took me weeks to finish just this. Currently going through some stuff, but still writing this. Also haven't completed all of Sandrock prior to the upcoming update next month - so I may be lacking on some things. I promise Logan things will happen next chapter. This is all kind of self-indulgent and long so - there's that. Hope you enjoy! Song Kiran sings in this chapter is Across the Great Divide Read chapter one below the 'keep reading' tab. I made that title thing with Midjourney.

Kiran's memories of the desert were tainted with the echoes of her past. Camping trips with her father and older brother, Jessie, were supposed to be joyful excursions, a time to bond as a family. However, the reality was often veiled in the haze of her father's alcohol-fueled escapades. Those desert outings were marred by his drinking as if the vast expanse of sand was meant to soak up his troubles along with his whiskey.

Her father's stint in The Flying Pigs, a life rooted in Lucien until a near-fatal encounter with Duvos forced him out, had left a mark on him. He struggled to cope, oscillating between moments of tenderness and erratic behavior. Kiran had inherited some of those traits – the irritability, the occasional outbursts that were her way of combating the restlessness that her doctors attributed to an attention disorder. They told her she needed an outlet, but finding the right one had been a constant challenge. A cycle of angst and frustration seemed to stretch out before her, defying the passage of time, and extending beyond the awkwardness of teenage years into the realm of questionable decisions.

And then came the turning point - the decision to become a builder. She had just turned twenty-one, an age when people expected her to start taking care of herself but still young enough to make mistakes. Her older brother jokingly warned her that she was going to mess things up, but she took it as a challenge.

Kiran's journey to Sandrock was a bittersweet affair. The dust of the desert town blanketed her shoulders, carrying with it a mix of resentfulness and insecurity. Where she once saw the potential for excitement, now there were only memories of what could have been. People who inhabited the town created distress within her - such as Mi-an, the other builder, who was entirely too upbeat in comparison to Kiran's inner turbulence. Even the saloon owner's hospitality seemed oppressive. She silently cursed that Church of Light superhero guy for his seemingly spiteful treatment during their first meeting.

Yan was the source of most of her frustration, yet Kiran found herself using her emotions to fuel her plans against him; mostly figuring out how to push his buttons. Cooper was also there - an old rancher with stories about his animals and everything else; insistence that she become caretaker of them all. Her new home, the dusty shack taken from its previous occupant, only made her feel even more isolated.

The desert air, while inviting in its own right, couldn't erase the cacophony of thoughts swirling in her mind. Kiran found herself in a landscape of contradictions, an overwhelming sea of unfamiliar faces and situations.

Kiran had dabbled in the craft of building from time to time, guided by her instinctive ability to fix things. She had an understanding of how structures and mechanisms worked, a result of the camping trips her father took her on when he was lucid enough to impart practical knowledge. It was this assurance in her skill that led Kiran to Sandrock, feeling she possessed the competency to fix both physical structures and the ill fortunes afflicting the town.

Upon her arrival, it became clear that Sandrock was a place in dire need of her skills. The weight of its troubled past pressed heavily on its residents, and Kiran found herself thrust into the role of a fixer – not just for buildings, but for the community's sense of security and hope.

Kiran had a colorful group of friends in her younger days, and yet nothing could have prepared her for the challenges that awaited her in Sandrock. Bandits were the biggest problem facing the town and Logan was one such criminal; though his photo showed a handsome face framed by white hair and striking blue eyes, the mask covering his nose down only added to his appeal. It didn't escape Kiran's notice how someone like him could be attractive to her—a symbol of resistance against the conventions she was raised with. The irony wasn't lost on her.

Logan's recent reappearance in the town, marked by a train robbery, shattered any preconceived notions Kiran might have held. His actions were emblematic of typical bandit behavior, and yet she found herself amused by the audacity of it all. Amid the chaos caused by mutant lizards and the continued menace of Logan's presence, Sandrock was unveiling its raw reality – a far cry from the idealistic notions she had harbored.

With the lingering aftertaste of the reporter's incessant questioning still hanging in her mind, Kiran made her way to Yan's abode – the commerce guild office. The desert's relentless heat seeped through the open door, a common practice to keep the interior from becoming an oven. The tendrils of her waist-length hair danced in the breeze created by the office fan as she stood on the threshold, facing the cluttered workspace beyond.

Logan's face seemed to follow her everywhere – even the poster outside the guild office bore his image, an exaggerated portrayal of his enigmatic features. A silent annoyance gripped her at the sight of the repeated posters strewn around the town. Did they really think plastering his face on every available surface would lead to his capture? It was as if Sandrock was his haunting ground, a canvas for his exploits.

Entering the guild office, Kiran found Yan stationed in his habitual slouch, feet propped up on his desk as if he owned the place. She didn't exactly have a fondness for Yan, but at least he was predictable. The stale air of the office mingled with the traces of sand that always managed to sneak indoors, creating an atmosphere that mirrored the town's gritty reality.

"The train's fixed," Kiran declared, cutting through the air of indifference that seemed to hang around Yan like a shroud.

"Good," came his laconic response, accompanied by the rustle of movement as he reached for a piece of paper, pen poised in hand. Kiran couldn't help but notice the collection of knick-knacks adorning his desk, each item a testament to the eclectic nature of his interests.

As he filled out a banknote, Kiran's gaze drifted to the notice board that served as a hub for residents' requests. It was a canvas of opportunity for builders like her, but one glance was enough to overwhelm her. The requests ranged from practical repairs to elaborate creations, a testament to the town's persistent need for repairs and improvements.

Exhaling a frustrated breath, Kiran couldn't help but voice her exasperation aloud. "Honestly, the people in this damn desert are so needy."

Yan's laughter, a surprising sound given his usually indifferent demeanor, echoed in response to her frustration. "I know, right? It's like they think builders are miracle workers."

The resonance of his amusement irked her slightly, but Kiran decided to take the high road and focus on the task at hand. "The Civil Corps needs some canvas. That should be easy enough for you, right?" Yan's tone held a teasing edge that caused a twitch in her eye, a silent testament to her irritation.

"Yeah, I already have it," Kiran replied tersely, plucking the request from the board with a practiced motion.

Kiran, with her distinctive appearance, inched forward to retrieve the banknote Yan was offering, her sky-blue hair cascading in wavy elegance down to her waist. Her eyes, a mirror of the same hue, bore a matching intensity, framed by a set of bangs that lightly brushed against her forehead. Despite her smaller stature, there was a certain tenacity in her presence, and her slim figure held a quiet strength that was far from fragile.

She took the banknote from Yan's outstretched hand, her gaze darting to the sum written on it. An amused quirk of her eyebrow conveyed her thoughts as she tucked the note securely into her pocket. "Thanks," she muttered with a hint of gratitude, her irritation momentarily tempered by his cooperation.

The unexpected question that followed, however, took her by surprise. "How is everything else in the desert treating you, Kiran?" Yan's voice held an odd curiosity, and she found herself pondering her response for a brief moment. The desert was relentless, a masonite of both beauty and danger that tested her resilience every day.

"Pretty dangerous, based on the train robbery that took place this morning," she retorted, her tone carrying a hint of dry humor. "I should probably get a gun."

Yan's laughter once again filled the air, a sound that seemed almost out of character for him. "You'll have to ask the Civil Corps about that one when you bring them the canvas," he quipped, a mischievous glint in his eyes. With a dismissive wave, he seemed to delegate her to continue with her tasks – a stark reminder of his authoritative role in the town. Kiran responded with a casual wave of her own as she turned to leave, not that Yan truly deserved such politeness.

With the canvas already in her possession, originally intended for a camping tent, Kiran trudged up the bustling main street of Sandrock, her hair cascading in waves behind her. The golden rays of the desert sun illuminated eyes as she navigated the familiar path, her thoughts consumed by the slight annoyance of having to start over on her camping plans due to the sudden requisition by the local Civil Corps.

The town of Sandrock was a mix of rustic charm and rugged practicality, the buildings and streets reflecting the harsh yet beautiful nature of the desert that surrounded them. As she walked, she passed by familiar faces engaged in friendly exchanges, and she mustered a begrudging wave in response. It wasn't in her nature to be overly sociable, preferring the solitude that the vast desert landscape often provided. Her fingers absently brushed against the pocket of her worn jeans where the commission slip had been stashed away, a reminder of her duties as a builder in this town.

The day had originally slipped by in the unforgiving desert heat, with Kiran finding herself lost in her thoughts as she meandered around behind her workshop, only to be jolted back to reality by the realization that the commission slip still awaited her attention. It was a common pattern for her – getting lost in her own world, absorbed in her work or reflections until the demands of reality asserted themselves. With a resigned sigh, she fished the slip out of her pocket and unfolded it, scanning the details of the requested task.

As she made her way to the Civil Corps headquarters, she couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration at the disruption of her plans. She yearned for a moment of peace with her tan acoustic guitar, an instrument that held sentimental value as her father's gift. The rhythmic strumming often served as her own form of solace in this demanding and often chaotic environment.

The sun cast a warm glow over the late afternoon as Kiran ascended the steps leading to the porch of the Civil Corps office. Unlike other cities like Highwind or Portia, where Captains were at the helm, Sandrock had its own unique command structure with a Sheriff in charge. Sheriff Justice, a rather ironic name for someone overseeing law and order, managed to earn Kiran's appreciation due to his affable demeanor and unwavering dedication to the town's safety. His swift response to the recent train robbery hadn't gone unnoticed, as if he had a sixth sense about impending trouble.

However, the person she encountered in the office wasn't the Sheriff but his deputy in training, Unsuur. The stoic and monotone nature of the young deputy never failed to intrigue Kiran. From their first interaction, where he had sternly advised her against chopping down trees in Sandrock, to her audacious retort that prompted his unexpected departure "Mind your own business."; Kiran had come to understand that Unsuur was a character all his own.

The posters that adorned the office walls caught her attention, most of them featuring the notorious Logan, whose exploits were now plastered around town with the intent of bringing him to justice. Kiran stifled a chuckle, recognizing the artist's handiwork as she dropped the canvas onto the cluttered desk.

"Howdy, Kiran," Unsuur greeted her, his dark eyes lifting from the posters he was drawing to meet her gaze. She thought she detected a fleeting smirk on his face, though it was hard to tell with his normally reserved expression. She decided to reciprocate with a smirk of her own, feeling a twinge of guilt for her past dismissive behavior towards him.

"Hey, deputy, whatcha working on there?" Kiran leaned casually over the desk, her curiosity piqued.

"Posters," Unsuur replied, his monotone voice a stark contrast to the intricate drawings before him. His words seemed almost redundant as he continued to focus on his work. He leaned back in his chair, cradling the wrist of the hand that had been tirelessly wielding the pencil. Kiran's observant nature caught the subtle discomfort he displayed, and she couldn't help but wonder if this was some form of unspoken penalty exacted by Sheriff Justice. The thought resonated with her, considering her own struggles with carpal tunnel syndrome – a condition she knew all too well from her hours of playing the guitar.

"Yeah, it sucks, doesn't it?" she offered, her tone empathetic. Unsuur regarded her with a raised dark eyebrow, his expression still stoic. It was as if he wasn't catching on to her implications. She pointed to his wrist with a knowing nod.

"Carpal tunnel," she clarified, her finger now moving to indicate her own wrist. She hoped that her non-verbal cues would be enough to bridge the communication gap and let him know that she understood his discomfort.

Kiran's observation of Unsuur's gesture didn't go unnoticed. He shrugged off the tension in his wrist and flexed his fingers after setting the pencil aside. His eyes met hers for a moment, a hint of gratitude flickering in his gaze before he turned his attention back to the posters. It was a quiet acknowledgment, a silent understanding that formed between them without the need for elaborate words.

"Yeah, carpel tunnel," Kiran reiterated, her hand falling back to her side. "I know how annoying it can be, trying to do things with a wonky wrist." She paused.

"I'm dropping off this canvas for Justice." She tapped the rolled-up canvas against the edge of his desk, a playful glint in her blue eyes. "He owes me for taking away from my tent project, you know."

Unsuur's curiosity seemed to be piqued by her mention of the tent project. He leaned forward slightly, his expression shifting from its usual stoicism to a subtle inquisitiveness. "Tent project?" he echoed, his deep voice carrying a hint of intrigue.

Kiran nodded, leaning against the edge of the desk as she elaborated. "Yeah, you know, a little personal retreat out in the desert. Just a place to escape to when things get too hectic in town." She flashed him a lopsided grin, her sky-blue hair falling in waves over her shoulders. "But then, the Commerce Guild's needs came crashing down on my peaceful getaway."

Unsuur's lips twitched, a ghost of a smile that hinted at amusement. "I see. Well, if it's any consolation, you're not alone in dealing with the guild's demands. Or, dealing with your boss."

Kiran chuckled, sympathizing with Unsuur's frustration. "That seems to be the case," she said before adding, "Guess I'll let you get back to your work."

Unsuur gave her a grateful look before turning his attention back to his task. "Thanks for the canvas, Kiran. Wish you luck with your tent project."

Kiran turned to leave the office, her steps already carrying her toward the door. But then, a thought flickered in her mind like a lightbulb switching on. She paused, her hand on the doorframe, and glanced back at Unsuur.

"Hey, wait," she said, turning around to face the deputy-in-training again. "You know, earlier today I was thinking about getting a gun. You know, after that train robbery. Do you guys issue guns to civilians?"

Unsuur looked up from his work, his dark eyes meeting hers as he seemed to ponder her question. "Well," he began, his voice measured, "there's a bit of paperwork involved. Background checks, permits, all that."

Kiran let out an exaggerated sigh, her shoulders slumping in mock disappointment. "Ugh, paperwork? Seriously?"

He gave her a brief nod, "I'm afraid so," he said.

She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms with a hint of a pout. "Well, do you think I could just borrow one for a weekend? Just until I figure out if I actually want one?"

Unsuur set down the pencil he had been using and leaned back in his chair, studying her for a moment. His brows furrowed in thought as he seemed to weigh her request. "Probably not," he replied after a moment, his tone cautious yet firm.

Kiran let out a huff, her bottom lip jutting out in a playful pout. "Come on, deputy-in-training. It's just for a weekend. What harm could it do?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, his expression unyielding. "You do realize that guns aren't exactly toys, right? They require responsibility and training."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. But come on, I promise I'll be responsible. Besides, it's not like I'm going to rob a train or anything."

Unsuur's lips finally quirked in a half-smile, "I highly doubt that."

Kiran let out a laugh, feeling a bit lighter in his presence. "Alright, alright. I guess I'll go through the whole paperwork process then."

He gave her a slight nod before his eyes drifted away and he went back to looking at his posters. "That probably makes the most sense," he said.

But then, as she was about to leave for real, her curiosity took over again, and she found herself spinning around in the doorway once more.

"But like, knives and stuff, you guys are okay with, right?" She asked. She thought of the dagger she had back home, hidden in her dresser drawer.

Unsuur's dark eyes met hers, and there was a brief moment of hesitation before he nodded. "Yeah, that's alright."

She took the opportunity to study his features more closely. His strong jawline, the intensity in his gaze, even the way he moved with a kind of controlled grace—all of it somehow made her think he was... well, cute. In a weird kind of way, of course. Kiran mentally shook her head, scolding herself for letting her thoughts wander.

"You should get a brace for your wrist," she suddenly pointed out, her voice softer now as if she had just remembered something important. "I have one at home, I think. When Justice forks up the money for the canvas, stop by and get it." She mentally facepalmed at her own words. Why on earth was she offering him help? But she couldn't help herself; perhaps it was a side effect of their lighthearted banter.

Unsuur raised an eyebrow, seemingly taken aback by her unexpected offer. He nodded after a moment, his usually impassive expression softening just slightly. "Alright," he said,

Kiran stepped away from the door, her mouth curling into a real smile this time. She felt victorious for finally being able to puncture through Unsuur's typical composure, even if it was just slightly.

True to her nature, Kiran had completely forgotten about her promise to Unsuur pretty much as soon as she got home from the Civil Corps office. The days had a way of blurring together in Sandrock, and her own absent-mindedness often got the best of her. But she was about to be reminded of it in the most unexpected way.

On that particular day, the desert heat seemed determined to infiltrate her tiny, messy home. With all the windows and doors flung open, a small oscillating fan tried its best to disperse the humidity that clung to the air. Kiran stood by the cluttered counter, a half-empty cup of coffee in her hand, lost in her thoughts.

The sudden appearance of Unsuur in her open doorway was enough to make her start, causing her grip to loosen on the cup and sending half of its contents splattering across the floor. "Fuck!" she exclaimed, bringing a hand to her forehead as she scolded herself for her reaction.

"Sorry," Unsuur's voice came, a hint of apology in his tone. "Your door was open."

"Yeah," Kiran replied, trying to regain her composure. "I guess that's an open invitation for people to walk in." She sighed, bending down to pick up the pieces of the broken cup and the coffee-soaked towel. "Come in. Sorry about the mess." And she genuinely was sorry for the state of her place. Her living area was a chaotic mix of organized chaos, with belongings strewn across the space in their own peculiar piles. Yet, despite the clutter, she knew exactly where everything was.

"Let me think where I put that brace," Kiran continued, realizing she had no clear memory of where she had stashed it. Her bedroom had been too small to accommodate the dresser she had built, so it stood against the wall in the main room—where Unsuur now stood, his presence making her more aware of the mess than ever.

Barefoot, she padded across the floor to the dresser, her actions almost mechanical as she pulled open the top drawer and began to rummage through its contents. It was a true junk drawer, filled with an assortment of odds and ends that had no proper place. With each item she pulled out and examined, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease, wondering if Unsuur was silently judging her for the state of her living space.

Kiran continued to search through the drawer, aware of Unsuur's presence right beside her. Her eyes flicked over to him, watching as his gaze honed in on a necklace that was hanging off a bunch of twisted wires, forming something that vaguely resembled a tree.

"Obsidian," he mused, his fingers reaching out to gently grasp the gemstone on the chain. A thoughtful expression crossed his face as if he was recalling some piece of information about the stone.

"That's right. It is obsidian," Kiran confirmed, her attention now on the necklace as well. She arched an eyebrow at him with a hint of amusement. "Are you one of those people who gets all wonky about crystal healing?" she asked, a playful tone in her voice.

"Not exactly," Unsuur replied, his gaze shifting to her with a sidelong glance. "I just like rocks. I collect them." His statement had a simplicity to it that made Kiran grin. Well, who was she to judge? She had her own eccentric collection of odds and ends scattered around her home.

"In case you haven't noticed, I collect a lot of things," Kiran mentioned with a self-deprecating chuckle. As if to further prove her point, she pulled a tiny box from the drawer. Inside, an assortment of guitar picks lay nestled within. She set the box on top of the dresser, offering it to Unsuur for his perusal.

"I don't think I can find the brace," she admitted, shaking her head with a sigh. "But if you ever need guitar picks, or nails, or socks that don't match - I've got you covered." She chuckled, looking back at him.

"That's alright," he told her, and Kiran couldn't help but notice the way he dismissed the brace idea altogether. His stoic nature and seriousness only fueled her curiosity about him. As she watched him, a thought sparked in her mind. She reached back into the drawer, digging around until she found what she was looking for—an inconspicuous stress ball with a cute cat face on it. Sometimes, being disorganized had its perks.

"Here," she said, placing the stress ball on top of the dresser. "All yours." She then propped her elbow up on the dresser, using one hand to point to a spot on her wrist. "There's actually a pressure point on your wrist around here that can help alleviate some of that pain." She demonstrated the location with her finger before extending her hand and gently pulling her fingers back. "Or you can stretch your wrist out like this."

Another bout of silence ensued, and Kiran couldn't help but feel a mix of self-consciousness and curiosity as Unsuur observed her movements. Finally, he turned to her, his hesitation evident in the slight furrow of his brow. He pulled the fingerless glove off his hand, offering his palm to her with a subtle vulnerability. "Can you show me that again?" he asked, his tone carrying a mix of earnestness and a hint of shyness.

"Sure," Kiran said, her voice composed even though her heart seemed to race a bit as she reached out to take his hand. There was a subtle jolt that passed between them as their hands made contact, and she had to remind herself to focus on the task at hand. She looked down at his hand, her fingers tracing along his palm until she found the point she had demonstrated earlier on her own wrist. "Right around here," she said, applying gentle pressure with her thumb. She felt a mixture of anticipation and a strange awareness of his presence as she touched him.

"Or—" she began, her gaze meeting his as she flipped his hand over and positioned it with her hands resting on the sides, near his wrist. She carefully straightened it out. "We could get technical about it." With a fluid motion and a firm grip, she tugged his wrist slightly downward at a specific angle. The satisfying pop that followed brought a mental sigh of relief.

Unsuur withdrew his hand from hers, shaking out his wrist. "Was that supposed to feel as weird as it did?" he asked, a faint trace of bemusement in his tone.

"As far as I know," Kiran responded, with a touch of uncertainty. She briefly wondered if she had crossed a boundary or made the situation more awkward than it needed to be.

"That actually feels kind of better," Unsuur admitted, his voice carrying a hint of relief. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Kiran's lips curved into a genuine smile, a blush of satisfaction coloring her cheeks. "My mother's a chiropractor," she admitted, her tone casual yet proud, and she shrugged.

"Stay away from my neck," he deadpanned, his expression turning serious, before quickly adding, "I'm teasing." His attempt at humor was evident, and Kiran chuckled in response, raising both of her hands in mock surrender.

"I gathered as much," she quipped, her laughter lacing her words. "I don't trust myself that much either."

Their banter felt oddly natural, a kind of ease that Kiran hadn't expected from her interactions with Unsuur. But as he smiled at her, her mind began to drift in a direction she knew she should avoid. She mentally scolded herself, reminding herself that getting involved with strangers never ended well.

"Alright, well," she said, shifting her focus and reaching for the stress ball to hand it to him. "Don't forget this."

He accepted the stress ball, then reached into his pocket, retrieving a banknote that he placed on her cluttered dresser. "This is from Justice for the canvas," he informed her, his voice holding a note of formality.

"Thanks," Kiran said, slipping the banknote into the drawer and closing it with a swift motion. "Tell Justice he owes me a tent."

"Sure," Unsuur replied, and she couldn't help but wonder if there was a trace of amusement in his tone. "Guess I'll see you later, Kiran. Justice and I are going to the Blue Moon later."

She couldn't quite decipher if that was an invitation or a simple statement. Her gaze followed his to the other side of the room, where her guitar leaned against the wall. It was Wednesday, which meant Cooper and Hugo would be performing their distinctive cowboy drawl music at the Blue Moon that night.

"I'm not very good, you know," she heard herself saying, the words slipping out before she could think better of it.

"The forty-two picks you have in that box may prove otherwise," he retorted. His response seemed like a polite way to end the conversation, as he nodded to her and began to turn away.

As he left, Kiran's attention drifted back to the box of guitar picks still sitting on her cluttered dresser. She couldn't help but smile as she began to count them – he had been right, the count was accurate.

In her younger years, just on the brink of turning sixteen, Kiran and her rowdy group of friends, including her brother Jessie, often ventured into the abandoned ruins late at night. It had become somewhat of a regular activity for them, a mix of teenage recklessness and the allure of danger. Those nights were filled with laughter, camaraderie, and the thrill of exploring forbidden places.

One particular night, fueled by a combination of excitement and alcohol, they found themselves delving deep into the ruins. The atmosphere was electric, and Kiran was caught up in the sense of freedom that came with being young and daring. But the fun abruptly shifted when Jessie thought he heard something, and in the chaos of their hasty retreat, Kiran tripped and twisted her ankle, unable to keep up.

Left behind in the commotion, Kiran found herself alone in the darkness, her ankle throbbing with pain. Hours later, as dawn broke, members of the Highwind Civil Corps discovered her. A young man, whose name she would eventually come to know quite well as Lewis, had been part of the team that found her. He had helped her back home, an act that held more significance than she had realized at the time. And more of a bitter aftermath.

The memory of that night and the mixture of emotions it had stirred up resurfaced as she stood outside the Blue Moon on this evening. Clutching the handle of her guitar case, she couldn't shake off the familiar sensation that she was on the edge of another precipice. It was as if she had traveled back in time, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and apprehension, much like that night years ago.

Kiran's decision to show up at the Blue Moon that evening was a perplexing one even to herself. A significant part of her hadn't wanted to attend at all. The saloon had never been her preferred haunt, having visited it only a handful of times for drinks. Like her father, she preferred to drink in solitude.

Owen, the bartender, was a mystery that she had yet to solve. He was an outlier—a barkeep who was too honest and open in a way that was unfamiliar to her.

As she entered the saloon, her gaze zeroed in on Owen behind the bar. His eyes caught hers before she could look away, and his voice boomed as if they were long-lost friends. "Kiran!"

Suppressing a sigh, she muttered a half-hearted response, "That's me," before deliberately averting her eyes to the selection of liquors behind the bar. Anything to avoid a direct interaction with Owen. However, even in her attempt to distract herself, she couldn't help but notice his glance shifting to the guitar case by her side.

"Oh? You play?" His curiosity rang clear in his words.

"Yep." She offered a clipped response, her internal plea for him to stop talking to her growing stronger. Settling onto a barstool, she placed her guitar case on the floor beside her. "Been playing since I was eight. Can I have Highwind's Finest?"

Owen's practiced arm reached out without hesitation, snagging a bottle from the shelf without even glancing at it. It was a move that impressed her despite her resistance to giving him too much credit. The fact that he remembered she took it straight was another notch in his favor, his pour executed with well-practiced ease.

As the golden liquid filled her glass, she lifted it to her lips, its familiar warmth a comfort. Across the room, the drawling tones of Cooper's singing voice reached her ears. She mused on what it must be like for the townspeople to be entertained by an old ranch owner's tunes. Sandrock certainly was a place unlike any she had encountered before.

"Are you going to play for us after Cooper and Hugo finish?" Owen's question pulled her attention back, and she wondered if she could manage it. "It would be nice to hear something different."

Maybe, she considered, taking a sip from her glass. Playing in front of people wasn't new to her. She had done it before, but it often overstimulated her senses, especially when in a crowd. However, she knew the solution to that dilemma: alcohol. So, she responded with a noncommittal, "Maybe," fully aware that the presence of alcohol would make the prospect more manageable, even if just for a little while.

"How are things going for you in Sandrock?" Owen's question about how things were going for her grated on Kiran's nerves. Why were people so persistent in asking her that? It seemed to be a common conversation starter around here, one she was quickly growing weary of.

"What's it to ya?" The irritation in her voice seeped through as she responded. She had never been one for small talk, and the constant inquiries about her well-being were becoming increasingly bothersome.

A sudden weight on her shoulder startled her, and the booming voice of Justice filled her ears as her drink sloshed slightly onto the bar's surface. "Take it easy there, Kiran." As she turned on the stool to face him, his cat, Captain hopped onto her lap, seeking attention.

"You brought the cat," she mused, her tone softening as she scratched the feline behind its ears. The cat responded with a contented purr, nuzzling into the crook of her arm.

"Of course," Unsuur's voice came from behind Justice, and Kiran could feel his presence without even looking. "The captain likes music too."

"Right," she replied, lifting her glass for another sip. The warm amber liquid went down smoothly, and she felt herself relaxing despite her earlier annoyance. The cat's presence was unexpectedly soothing, and the familiarity of the saloon began to seep into her senses.

Her gaze shifted from the cat in her lap to the two officers standing before her. "How does the Civil Corps let you guys get away with this shit?" The question slipped out before she could censor herself, her gaze pointedly including both the men and the feline lounging comfortably.

Justice's hearty laughter filled the air, a sound that seemed to echo within the wooden walls of the saloon.

Unsuur's expression remained stoic as ever as he responded, deadpan. "He took an oath."

"Did he now?" Kiran raised an eyebrow, her attention shifting back to the cat, who met her gaze with an unflinching stare. "Well, I'll make sure not to double-cross him then." She couldn't believe she was having a conversation about an oath-taking cat. It was a surreal moment, even for Sandrock's standards. And as she looked into the feline's eyes, she could have sworn he was giving her a knowing side-eye, as if he was fully aware of the conversation happening around him.

"So." Justice clasped his hands together, his attention fixated on the nearly empty glass in her hand. "What are we drinking?"

Kiran couldn't help but smirk at his question. "Something not for the faint of heart," she mumbled, her tone carrying a hint of mischief.

"We like a challenge," Justice replied, his voice laced with amusement as he motioned to Owen. Owen acknowledged the signal with a nod, curiosity evident in his expression.

Seated on either side of her, Kiran's glass of the mysterious concoction in hand, she couldn't help but smirk. "Remember that I warned you, boys," she said playfully, lifting the glass to her lips. The alcohol's warmth began to spread through her, and the inhibitions of the drink started to weave their way into her thoughts. Perhaps a bit of looseness wasn't such a bad thing, especially if it meant she could tolerate the members of the Civil Corps for a while. At least, that's what she hoped.

Justice and Unsuur took their respective positions, one more confident than the other. As the liquid met their lips, reactions began to unfold. Justice's bold sip turned into an immediate coughing fit, accompanied by the hearty pounding of his fist against his chest. "Peach!" he exclaimed, clearly caught off guard. "What the hell is this stuff?"

Kiran burst into laughter, thoroughly entertained by his reaction. She turned her attention to Unsuur, observing his less aggressive sip. His reaction was more subtle, a slight twist of his mouth indicating his distaste. "It's like... really bad cough medicine," he commented, his tone dry.

Her laughter continued. "That's actually a pretty good description," she agreed, nodding as she took another sip. Memories of her father's odd claims about the drink surfaced. "My dad used to tell me something about how it sterilized vocal cords," she shared with a hint of nostalgia in her voice. Looking back, it was probably just an excuse he used.

Unsuur's response caught her off guard. "You have a dad?" he asked, pausing between sips as if realizing the absurdity of the question. "Wait – obviously you do. Everyone does."

She laughed again, her laughter carrying an almost carefree quality. It was infectious, catching Owen's attention from behind the bar. "I do. They used to call him Highwinds Finest, after this horrible stuff," she explained, raising her glass playfully.

Justice's voice came from the other side, his tone incredulous. "Whoa. You mean, Highwinds Finest Harold?" he asked.

Kiran spun her gaze toward him, genuinely surprised. "Yeah, you know him?"

"He was only one of the most respected men to ever grace Lucien and The Flying Pigs – back in the day," Justice explained, his tone carrying a hint of admiration. "He's an example used in Corps training. Girl, I gotta shake your hand."

Kiran was a little dumbfounded by the revelation, her father's legacy as Highwinds Finest was not something she had been aware of. Still, she extended her hand to meet Justice's firm grip with her own.

"I can assure you," Kiran continued as she pulled her hand away, a smile playing on her lips. "His days of being the finest were long gone before I ever came into existence. And my brother could never make it into The Flying Pigs – so it really is just family history." She took another sip of her drink, savoring the burn of the alcohol.

Unsuur's curiosity didn't waver, his probing questions indicative of his genuine interest in getting to know her. "You have a brother?" he inquired, his tone casual but inquisitive.

Kiran pivoted on her stool to face him fully, her features lit up by the ambient lighting of the saloon. "Yeah, Jessie," she confirmed with a nod, her fingers tracing patterns on the rim of her glass.

"What does he do?" Unsuur's question seemed simple, yet his genuine curiosity shone through. His eyes briefly shifted to Justice behind her, who was still grappling with his own encounter with the drink he still tried to consume.

"He helps my mom in her clinic," Kiran answered, a note of fondness in her voice. "She's a little scatterbrained, but she means well."

"Like you?" Unsuur's words caught her off guard, and his own reaction indicated that he hadn't meant to phrase it that way. Kiran burst into laughter at the unexpected comment.

"Yeah, I suppose," she said, chuckling as she took another sip from her glass.

She was fully aware that allowing her gaze to linger on the man across from her would only lead to scattered thoughts and a hazy focus. The reminders she had given herself earlier in the day about not getting involved with strangers echoed in her mind. Alcohol, however, had a way of challenging such resolutions, pushing her towards the desire to make a connection rather than remain strangers. She chuckled inwardly at her own internal struggle.

Her thoughts momentarily shifted as she took another sip of her drink, the strong liquid warming her insides and relaxing her inhibitions. She felt herself easing into the conversation, the atmosphere light and surprisingly comfortable for someone who was usually guarded.

"Where are you from?" she asked him suddenly, the words slipping out before she could fully analyze them. The silence that followed was brief but noticeable, and she waited for his response.

"Vega 5," he answered succinctly, his tone calm and composed.

She found herself intrigued by the information, curiosity bubbling up inside her. "And you have a dad in Vega 5?" she probed further, a playful grin tugging at her lips. His simple nod confirmed her suspicion, and she sensed that he was not particularly keen on elaborating.

Before she could dive deeper into the conversation, Owen caught her attention by pointing toward an empty stage. It seemed like the night was taking a different turn, redirecting her focus. The prospect of playing her guitar in front of an audience had both an exhilarating and nerve-wracking effect on her. She glanced back at Unsuur briefly, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

"Well, it looks like I might be entertaining these folks after all," she remarked, her fingers wrapping around the neck of her guitar case.

As Kiran approached the stage, the atmosphere shifted slightly. Cooper's familiar drawl cut through the air, his boastful commentary momentarily disrupting the ambiance. It seemed that he couldn't resist taking a jab at her, attempting to stake his claim to the time slot. She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a wry smile. Hugo's intervention prevented Cooper's monologue from spiraling further out of control.

"Watch your jealousy, man," Hugo interjected, his voice calm yet firm. His grip on Kiran's shoulder was a reassuring touch, a silent acknowledgment of her presence and the opportunity she was about to take. Hugo's gaze met hers, and there was something supportive in his eyes that resonated with her.

"Thanks, Hugo," she responded. She appreciated his intervention, knowing that Cooper's antics could sometimes overwhelm the situation. With Hugo's intervention, Cooper was led away, allowing Kiran a moment of reprieve.

"All yours, Kiran," Hugo assured her, his words carrying a sense of encouragement. As he and Cooper moved away, Kiran shifted her attention to the stage before her. The prospect of performing was both exciting and nerve-wracking, yet the alcohol in her system seemed to have mellowed her apprehensions.

"You've done this kind of thing before," she reminded herself softly as she carefully placed her guitar case down. She was well-acquainted with performing, having done so in various settings throughout her life. The alcohol she had consumed earlier had a way of making the endeavor feel less daunting than it had earlier in the day. She polished off the remaining contents of her glass, feeling a warming courage spread through her veins.

She carefully extracted her guitar from its case, the familiar weight and shape soothing to her touch. Adjusting the microphone stand, she settled herself behind it, her fingers automatically checking the tuning of the guitar. The strings hummed softly, resonating in the space around her.

Taking a deep breath, she looked out at the dimly lit room, her heart beating a steady rhythm. The chatter of the patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the subtle background noise seemed to blend into a comforting symphony.

As the familiar strings of her guitar responded to her touch, Kiran found herself falling into the rhythm almost effortlessly. She leaned in slightly, her eyes closing as she began to strum and sing, allowing the music to envelop her. The stage lights cast a soft glow around her, and the subtle hum of the venue seemed to fade into the background.

"I've been walking, in my sleep," her voice filled the air, carrying a tinge of raw emotion that resonated with the lyrics. Each word was carefully enunciated, the melody carrying a weight that hinted at the song's depth. It was a tune that held a certain bittersweet quality, one that spoke of introspection and the struggles that life could bring.

"Counting troubles, 'stead of counting sheep," her voice held a hint of vulnerability, as if she were sharing a secret with the audience. The simplicity of the acoustic melody paired with her heartfelt vocals drew the attention of the room, the casual chatter momentarily silenced by the unexpected beauty unfolding on stage.

As she continued to sing, her fingers deftly moved across the guitar strings, weaving a tapestry of sound that seemed to encapsulate the essence of the lyrics. The song spoke of a journey, an internal exploration of one's experiences and the hurdles faced along the way. It painted a picture of a life marked by challenges and setbacks, yet ultimately carried by the hope of finding solace and understanding.

The applause that followed her song was a steady ripple of appreciation, the room responding to her performance in a way that struck a chord within her. Yet, she had no intentions of dwelling on the moment any longer than necessary. She stepped off the stage, the sensation of the spotlight fading as she rejoined the crowd.

Cooper's voice reached her ears, his usual drawl carrying a hint of surprise. "That wasn't too bad, girly. Ever thought about joining a band?" She shot him a playful glare, knowing better than to entertain the idea. His tendency to embellish everything was both endearing and exhausting, and she had no intentions of getting swept up in his wild schemes.

"Not in your dreams, old man." she replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. His response was inevitable: another one of his signature monologues that she easily sidestepped, her attention swiftly shifting elsewhere. She navigated her way back to the bar, seeking the familiar sanctuary it provided.

As she leaned against the bar, Justice's solid hand landed on her back, the impact nearly causing her to stumble. His voice carried a sense of approval as he spoke, "That wasn't half bad, Kiran." It was a compliment she hadn't expected from him, and she felt a warmth spread through her chest at the unexpected praise.

"Yeah, well," she replied, her gaze shifting to Unsuur. Their eyes met, and her alcohol-infused confidence emboldened her to ask him, "Are you satisfied now?" She held his gaze, her curiosity mingling with the faint traces of a daring challenge in her eyes.

He nodded, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips. The simple affirmation sent a rush of mixed emotions through her, a concoction of pride, embarrassment, and a strange fluttering sensation in her stomach. "That was great, Kiran," he added, his words ringing with sincerity.

"Don't do it," echoed in her mind like a cautionary refrain. The internal struggle raged on as she stared at him, wrestling with her own impulses. "Don't do it," she mentally chanted, knowing the allure that often accompanied men in uniform. But she was no stranger to the dangers of falling into that trap - she had already done it, and it was one of the reasons she end up in Sandrock in the first place. "Still, don't do it," she admonished herself, trying to rein in her thoughts. It would be too easy, she reminded herself, and she knew that all too well.

With a sense of resolve, she grabbed the glass he had yet to finish and drank it down in one go. The warmth ran down her throat, both calming and energizing her. She lowered the glass to the bar and met his eyes with purpose.

"Can you walk me home?" The words slipped out, laced with an undertone that she had never quite allowed herself to reveal so openly before. Her heart raced, and for a moment, she felt like a teenager mustering the courage to ask a crush for a favor. "I tripped over the train tracks last time and skinned up my knee pretty bad." A fabricated excuse, but one that she hoped would be enough to sway him. After all, he didn't know the truth.

Unsuur's agreement to walk her home left Kiran with mixed feelings, a twinge of uncertainty hidden beneath her desire for company. As they embarked on the journey toward her workshop, her mind buzzed with thoughts, wondering if her motives had been too transparent. Did his silence hide an unspoken understanding?

"It's nice out tonight," she ventured, a conversational gambit meant to fill the quiet between them. The weight of her guitar case seemed suddenly amplified, and she struggled to keep her grip steady as they walked.

"It's humid," came his typically monotone reply. She found herself briefly caught off guard, the simplicity of his response contrasting with the complexity she felt. Then, without warning, his hand reached out and gently took hold of her wrist, causing her heart to skip a beat. Her steps faltered slightly as he skillfully relieved her of the guitar case.

"Looks like you need help with that," he stated matter-of-factly. Kiran struggled to regain her composure, her surprise giving way to a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude.

"Thanks," she managed to murmur, mentally chastising herself for letting her emotions get the best of her.

As they finally arrived at the gate of her workshop, Kiran's emotions were in turmoil, a tumultuous whirlwind of feelings that had taken her by surprise. She turned to face Unsuur, a mixture of uncertainty and anticipation in her eyes. Slowly, he leaned her guitar case against the fence, their gazes locking in a charged moment of connection.

"You didn't trip over the train tracks," his observation cut through the air. She took a moment to process his words, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she shook her head slightly.

"Guess I was lucky this time," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of playful relief. Their eyes met once more, holding a conversation that words could not capture. There was an unspoken tension, a shared sentiment that hung in the air, palpable and electric.

She noticed a certain look in his eyes, a look she had seen from others before—a look of longing, of suppressed desire (or maybe that was the alcohol convincing her of that). In that instant, something within her snapped. "Oh, screw it," she muttered, her words meant for her internal musings, but they escaped her lips audibly. She took a bold step forward, her heart pounding, and without overthinking, reached up to grasp the collar of his jacket.

In an impulsive move, she pulled him toward her, her lips meeting his in a rush of fervor. She braced herself for a moment of uncertainty, unsure if he would reciprocate. And then, relief washed over her as she felt his arms encircle her waist, pulling her closer as their kiss deepened. It was a collision of passion and longing, an intoxicating moment that threatened to melt her resolve and send her spiraling. Maybe it was the alcohol's influence or the weight of unspoken desires finally finding an outlet.

The moment had ignited like a spark in the desert night sky, an electrifying collision. But just as quickly as it had flared to life, it extinguished, leaving Kiran feeling a rush of confusion. Unsuur had gently pulled away, creating a space between them as he awkwardly re-adjusted the collar of his jacket, as if searching for some semblance of normalcy.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, her voice carrying a mix of uncertainty and self-awareness. Her thoughts raced, her heart still beating rapidly as she tried to make sense of the whirlwind that had just transpired. What had she been thinking? What did this mean? And yet, amidst the internal chaos, there was a small, undeniable spark of satisfaction—she had acted on her impulses, consequences be damned. But now, facing the aftermath, she felt a pang of embarrassment.

"It's fine, Kiran," Unsuur's voice cut through the tension, his gaze steady on her. The air was charged, thick with unspoken words, and she was grateful for his attempt to defuse the awkwardness.

"I just thought—" her words trailed off, lost in the muddled thoughts spinning in her mind. What had she thought? That he would sleep with her? Yeah, that was exactly what she had thought. Even so, the words felt insufficient and incomplete.

"Really," he reassured her, reaching out to gently touch her arm. His touch was grounding, a reminder that despite the emotions, they were still here, still real if not a bit tipsy. "It's okay."

"Are you sure?" she asked, her uncertainty still lingering. She needed to know that she hadn't crossed a line, that this impulsive act hadn't shifted the dynamics between them in ways she couldn't comprehend.

He shrugged; a simple yet slightly reassuring gesture. "I kissed you back, didn't I?" he pointed out, offering her a small smile that held a hint of playfulness. His words and his smile carried a weight of affirmation that eased some of the doubt swirling within her - but only slightly.

And then, his demeanor shifted slightly, the playful glint in his eyes giving way to a more serious tone. "You should get some rest, Kiran, or you'll have bags under your eyes."

She chuckled softly, the tension slowly dissipating as she nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you're probably right." The tension might have eased, but her heart still raced with the lingering memory of their shared kiss. "Goodnight, Unsuur."

"Goodnight, Kiran," he echoed. And as they exchanged those parting words, she couldn't help but wonder what the next day would bring, now that the boundaries between them had shifted, however subtly.

And even so, the sting of rejection was something she knew all too well. __ Chap. 2

#mtas #mtas builder #mtas logan #mtas fanfiction #mtas builder/logan #mtas builder/unsuur #my time at sandrock

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