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HI! I've been thinking over a scenario in my head for awhile, and wanted to request Vicious with a selectively mute reader, who just spoke to him for the first time. I just find the dynamic interesting if Vicious realized someone does not view him as a total monster, but instead as their special person.
When itโs just you and him, he throws a lot of questions your way. And he never expects a response to any of them.
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To be honest, he just canโt help it. It just feels natural. Itโs a reminder that even under all his thick skin and scowls, heโs human and heโs not immune to doing human things. Especially if it involves someone he couldnโt help but find himself attached to. Someone whoโs perfect for a man looking for a little slice of heaven at the end of each long day. Someone whoโs sweet and soft and precious. Someone like you.
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Though sure, the first few times it happened, it felt odd hearing no response. In the beginning, he had to constantly remind himself of the advice he had received from your Doctor- that no amount of prompting would force you to speak. That if you wanted to speak, it would be on your own terms and on your own time should you ever feel comfortable enough to do so. But now? Now it feels natural to let his words linger in the air rather than to receive an immediate response. Now it feels right to speak his thoughts out loud and just to have them there.
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Though that doesnโt mean youโre completely reactionless. Admittedly, heโs grown fond of watching your reactions to some of the statements and questions he poses to you simply because he can. In his line of work, the type ย of softness you display is perhaps the worst form of weakness. Thereโs just no way around it. But he keeps you so far removed from that part of himself and his world that in you, he can still enjoy what it's like to see the same type of softness that would get his men killed. And he indulges in it.
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He drinks up your curious expressions and your wide-eyed looks of surprise or confusion. He relishes in your shrugs, silent pouts, and avoidance of his gaze, and furrowed brows when youโre not in the best of moods. And he memorizes every smile and soft sound that could almost be mistaken as laughter, the best he can, every time he sees it. He never knows when itโll be the last. But he knows it keeps him from going insane every time he steps out the door to the bedroom he shares with you. So he holds onto it. All of it. Because without it, heโs sure he would completely turn into the monster that the entire Underworld knows him to be. The monster that you only barely know exists. He has been very careful about what he shares with you, after all.
Though as much as he enjoys watching you and interacting with you during the rare moments he gets a break from his work, your presence alone is something he has come to adore. To know that thereโs someone in the room as he speaks what he wants to say offers him an odd, comforting feeling. Whether youโre just reading or lying on his chest, napping, or giving him every ounce of your attention, he finds himself getting lost in your presence.
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Even now, as you lay cuddled up to him in bed after a long day cleaning after a subordinateโs subordinateโs subordinateโs mistakes, he finds himself more than content to just breathe in your scent as you sleepily nod along to his telling of a very sanitized version of what happened as a bedtime story. Itโs like the anger almost disappears completely and the stress goes quiet in his mind the longer he lies there, absently stroking your hair as he speaks.
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Heโs relaxed. Heโs at ease. Thereโs no two ways about it. So itโs no surprise that he ended his retelling of the underlingโs major fuck-ups over the past two weeks with a rhetorical hum of โWhat do you think I should do with him, sweetheart?โ But what does come as a surprise is how you respond back.
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โ...dunnoโฆโ
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The sound comes directly into his ear, carried by a hushed breath as you continue to lie by his side in the dark bedroom, mostly covered by the sheets on the bed and the arm he has slung around your waist. Itโs only a whisper. A word he could barely hear from a voice he doesnโt even know. It doesnโt even register to him as he continues to stroke your hair until a couple of seconds later. Only then do his ears catch up with his brain. Only then does he freeze in place, his hand hovering over your hair and breath hitching as he realizes what he heard.
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You spoke. You spoke out loud. You spoke to him.
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He doesnโt know how long itโs been since youโve last spoken. But when he found you at that Warehouse on Mars over two years ago, cowering in fear as bullets soared through the air and bodies fell to the ground all around you, you were already mute. And he was convinced early on by the personal Doctor he hired for you that placing cameras all around your room would be worse for any progress you might make towards warming up to him- even if it is all for your safety. The last words you could have spoken could have been two years ago. It could have been longer than that. Or it could have been shorter than that too. He doesnโt know. He doesnโt really care.
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Because this is the first time he has gotten to hear you speak. And now he doesnโt know what to do.
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In an instant, his mind races for a way to react or respond to you. In truth, your response doesnโt offer much in terms of continuing his usually one-sided conversations with you. Itโs the equivalent of one of your shrugs. But he doesnโt care. He never asks you to respond. He never forces you to respond. He never, ever makes you bad for not responding. In fact, he spent so much time listening to your Doctor (and sometimes biting his tongue while being scolded by your care team) just to get here. So many little quirks and habits and softness he had learned just to get to this point. But now that youโre here- now that youโve spoken to him, he finds that heโs ill-prepared to react.
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Should he ask you more questions? Is this a sign that you want to talk more? No, it might not be. At least, he shouldnโt assume that you need more prompting when your previous dynamic has worked out fine for the two of you. Then, should he soften his voice to respond to you? Youโve told him shyly once through your notebooks that you enjoy his voice- thatโs part of the reason why he speaks to you so much despite getting no response. But would it be more encouraging? Perhaps it might be better if he doesnโt acknowledge it fully. He could respond to your response, but not mention anything about you speaking. Maybe youโll feel better if he treats it as normal? Would it show you that no matter what you do, he adores you? Or would that get discouraging? Youโve enjoyed praise from him before. Itโs what got you to soften up to him too, initially, after all. Would that be something youโd like right now? Or would it be too overwhelming? He remembers how shy you used to be. Would you become that way again if heโs not careful? How should he respond? What are you looking for right now? What do you need right now? What do you need from him?
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He doesnโt know. He doesnโt know how to do this. He doesnโt know how to be soft.
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Youโre not someone he can bark orders or speak to like a comrade. Hell, youโre not someone he wants to bark orders at. He wouldnโt have let you move into his bedroom all those months ago if that was the case. But that makes you different from everyone heโs used to managing or fighting or interacting with outside of these four walls. Youโre more fragile, more important, more special to him than anyone who has the displeasure of meeting with him. But he spent so much time trying to be the person that you needed just to get to this point that he canโt help but freeze when the moment that everything had been building up to happens.
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But thatโs the thing: you froze too.
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It was only after he forgot to continue stroking your hair that you reacted on your own. But in the time it took for Viciousโ thoughts to race, you had tucked your face in his neck and desperately grabbed fistfuls of his clothes in an attempt toโฆto do something. To hide? To comfort yourself? To get him to respond? He doesnโt know. But what he does know is that heโs failed you at this moment.
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And somehow the ache it causes reminds him of the pain he feels whenever thinking about Fearless. Maybe thatโs why he strives to take such good care of you? Maybe thatโs why he does everything in his power to show you that youโre precious. Maybe, but whoโs to say? Either way, it doesnโt matter now.
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Because his reaction was so delayed- his silence was so loud that you couldnโt help but freeze too. Like when you spoke, it took him a while to realize that this had happened. And he hadn't realized it at first because he was too captured in his own thoughts and fears about messing things up- something so fragile and fleeting to realize that perhaps the worst thing he could do was offer his own silence in response to you breaking yours.
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So he stops overthinking it. Itโs not him, anyway. Itโs not what your Doctors recommended either. And instead, he offers up the first thing he could think of:
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โYou sound beautiful, sweetheart.โ
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And he holds his breath and counts the seconds that pass between the two of you afterwards. He goes back to stroking your hair. He goes back to breathing you in. He goes back to carefully picking the next words he wants to say to you- the next story or question or compliment or praise or whatever he thinks would be best to say next. To wrap this up in a way thatโs neater than any job heโs ever pulled. Itโs hard because youโre soft and sensitive and heโs still learning how to be the same when heโs with you. Itโs hard because your face is still tucked into his neck like nothing happened at all but also like youโre still the scared little thing that he took in on a whim just two years ago. Itโs hard because it just is. And it will always be when a monster has to learn how to care for something without claws of its own for the very first time. And yet?
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And yet you make it easy.
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You make it feel natural.
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You make him feel human. Which is so, so, so importantโฆ
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โ...t-thanksโฆโ
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โฆfor a man who was almost convinced that he was anything but.
HELLO MANIA!!! now that summer has started I have more time to read more fics!!! Get ready to see me spam like speedrun all your works >:D love your writing <3333
yayay!!! thank you in advance for the support and i hope you have fun reading hehehe (sorry in advance for all the spelling and grammar mistakes you're about the to run into tho teehee)
Hii!^^ Just wanted to say that I love your writing a lot and I am looking forward to when you'll open requests again!(โ ไบบโ ย โ โขอโ แดโ โขอโ )(Don't mean it in a rushing way or anything, of course!!๐๐) I wish you a lovely day!!<3
thank you so much!! i look forward to opening my requests again someday soon too, dw! i hate being so busy bleughh !! but thank you and hope you have a lovely day too!!!
HIII โ๏ธ I was wondering if you could write Spike Spiegel as an actual cowboy and like the reader is his lover or smth they can be a cowboy too or a damsel, idk I didnโt think this very through lowkey, ๐ just use your imagination since I canโt ๐ญ like itโs some sort of au where itโs in the past where cowboys exist and spike is the cowboy omg this is so confusing am so sorryyy ๐ but i would rlly appreciate it if u can write this!!! Have a good day!!๐
Spike thanks his lucky stars every night that youโre as forgiving as you are.
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Though the fact that your family has been more or less accepting of his presence in your life certainly helps with nights like these.
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Because he canโt always ride into town during the normal hours of the night. He canโt always expect that the ride will be as smooth or that he wonโt run into fights, detours, or other sorts of problems on the way. Therefore, he canโt expect your familyโs shop to be open or you to be awake by the time he finds himself riding in after midnight. Not that heโd want you to be up at this time of night anyway. He knows the type of creatures that like to run around on late nights like these, and heโd rather you not have to meet any of them if he could have his way.
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Still, he wonโt lie. Thereโs an emptiness that fills him every time he rides into the pitch blackness that is your sweet little town, where nearly everyone is in bed before ten oโclock. An emptiness that only grows as he rides past the town gates and the clock tower to see itโs just about two in the morning. It comes as he realizes that he wonโt have you greet him as he arrives just outside your familyโs shop. He wonโt get to see you running out the door and jumping into his arms, squealing as he holds you tightly and kisses you for every second he spent missing you. He wonโt get any of that. Not this time, at least. Because heโs on his own tonight.
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That is, until, of course, he goes and finds you.
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Before he gets far into town, Spike goes by the livery stables first, just to find a spot for his mare while heโs in town and visiting. When he gets there, he has to wake up the stableboy just to pay for a few nights of boarding before heโs able even to start heading in your direction. It frustrates him how long it all takes. Makes him real antsy and a little angry at the poor stableboy, who he knows is just stuck with the worst job- waiting up for the slight chance that a man like him is crazy enough to travel through the mountain pass and arrive at your town at this time of night. But Spike canโt help it. Every second heโs in your town and not with you, he gets antsy. It makes him feel off. And anything that slows him down more than expected only serves to worsen his move. So itโs unsurprising that he canโt help but snap at the stableboy. Nor is it unsurprising that he ends up rushing to get his stallion, Gladius, comfortable for the night before he takes off. Just like itโs unsurprising that, even after all of this, he still canโt help but itch for a cheroot right before he goes to see you.
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He does think about it for a moment. He considers it carefully, in fact. Just something to take a little bit of edge off so he can be as pleasant as you are to look at before he goes and finds you. But he knows better than to stop and smoke something before getting into bed with you. Youโve never really liked how the smell clings to his clothes when he does it shortly before seeing you. If you caught a whiff of something you didnโt like on him, youโd probably force him to take a bath and change his clothes before seeing you. And canโt stand the idea of being away from you now that youโre so close to him. Even if it did involve taking a dip in the beautiful river that runs just about a quarter of a mile away from your family shop. So in the end, he decides against it. Because before he knows it, heโs standing right in front of your familyโs shop.
Itโs as dark as the night sky itself when he peeks in through the small window that shows off the inside of the store. On the outside, itโs a regular old general goods store- no more special than the many Spike has passed in many towns just like this one. But this store is the only one of its kind for what must be thirty miles. And while your town is a small, pleasant one, it and every nearby little cabin in the general vicinity rely on the goods your familyโs shop brings in and sells to the people. That means it's important. Important enough that your family might as well be the richest family on this stretch of the river, if not this town. But it also means that this shop is important enough to have someone whoโs family living in the apartment right above the shop, lest something happen in the middle of the night. And since your parents never had sons and arenโt so willing to give up the luxury of having a big house by the river over having to squeeze the rest of them and your little sisters back into the tiny apartment.
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So itโs just you in here.
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And because of that, he doesnโt worry about how silent he needs to be when tugs free the key heโs got on the twine necklace you made for him from beneath his shirt collar. Still, he is silent as he takes the key and places it in the handle to unlock the door before creeping inside the store. And he is silent (well, as silent as he could hope to be on floorboards like this), as he tiptoes his way through the dark store and navigates his way to the stairs thatโll lead him to you. Along the way to you, he takes off his hat and places it on the table you got by your modest little kitchen upstairs. And he haphazardly drapes his jacket on the back of one of the tables chairs, only to find himself cringing a couple of seconds later as he hears it slide off the back and crumble off and fall onto the ground with an unflattering sound. But at that point, he doesnโt bother to do anything about that because heโs too busy taking off his boots and-
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โSpikeโฆ?โ
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He must not have been as quiet as he thought he was.
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But it doesnโt really matter because the second he hears your sleepy mumble, his gaze shoots upwards to find you emerging from your bedroom with a candle in hand and a yawn upon your lips as you call his name again.
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In that moment, his breath catches and the world freezes and he forgets absolutely everything but the sight of you for a few seconds. Because even after countless visits to town all across the West, he still hasnโt come across a more beautiful sight than you in your nightgown with your messy hair and sleepy expression. No woman, no view, no bounty, nor any piece of treasure has ever come close to the softness that is your lips and the delicate flutter that is your eyes as they try to stay open and the sweetness of your body as you appear in front of him in a nightgown so flattering he canโt help but swallow down his spit just to avoid saying something unsavory. Though it likely wouldn't have been new to your ears if heโs being honestโฆ
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Ah, but you donโt let him dwell on that. Because not even a second later, youโre there, calling his name again, an exhausted pout on your lips as you frown in his direction. And not even a second after that, heโs on you like a moth to the flame. His arms find your hips in an instant, and your fingers card through his hair the second you put your candle down. Before either of you can blink, heโs kissing you- pushing you up against the door of your bedroom and kissing you hard as you try to whisper something to him. Maybe itโs his name again. Maybe itโs telling him that you miss him. Maybe itโs a grumble or a complaint about how heโs pushing you back into your bedroom and further and further away from the candle you should really put out before the two of you get busy doing whatever it is you both have the energy to do just right about now.
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He doesnโt know. And frankly, he doesnโt really care.
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Heโs just thankful that youโre not mad at him for arriving four days later than he promised heโd be in his last letter to you. And heโs thankful that you gave him that key and always promised him a place to sleep in your bed should he ever need one while traveling in your neck of the woods. And heโs thankful that despite the fact that he's just another cowboy who never hangs his hat in one place for too long, your parents have accepted the fact that for some weeks out of the year, their precious daughter lets a strange man in her bed as her only form of proper company. Heโs thankful for all of it. Heโs thankful for all of you. Because he didnโt have this? If he didnโt have you? If he didnโt have anyone waiting on his safe returnโฆif he didnโt have a place to call home after days, weeks, months, on the trails? If he didnโt have you?
When you tell people that youโre going to Gerudo Desert, people usually look at you like youโre crazy.
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To some extent, you donโt blame them. Itโs nowhere near as easy to reach as Hateno village. And you know itโs not for everyone. But youโve been traveling this road for as long as you can remember. And even though youโre not above brute-forcing your way through the Highlands, your preference has always been to go by the Canyon Pass and to follow the path that way. If you have the time to spare, you usually set up camp by the River of the Dead before you even make it to the Pass. Just for a night. Just long enough to get your bearings before youโre off traveling a monster-filled path to the desert. And from there? Youโฆyouโฆ
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Youโฆ
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When you tell people that youโre going to Gerudo Desert, people usually look at you like youโre crazy. To some extent, you donโt blame them. Because you tell the same people that you are going to do this all the time. Because you go all the time, really. Have some free time between quests? You go to the desert. Have an excuse to go anywhere near Southwestern Hyrule? You go to the desert. Having some sort of mental crisis and canโt fight as well as you used to for a bit, and need some place to destress and/or find your roots? You go to the desert. You want to go to the desert? You go to the desert.
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You canโt help. Itโs a special place to you. Yes, itโs harsh and lonely and vast and at times, terrifyingly cruel. But at the same time, it calls to you when youโre far. And brings you comfort when youโre near. So you go to the desert a lot. You squeeze out every excuse, reason, and little bit of free time you can muster just to go. And you cherish these moments now because at one point, you stopped being able to go into the desert. At least, not freely. Not like you used to. Not like you did 100 years ago.
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Back when she was still alive, that is.
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Most of your memories are gone. No amount of monsters you fight, requests you fulfill, places you visit, or treasures you find will ever change that. Youโve accepted that a long time ago. But the few memories you do have are foggy and full of a woman who somehow simultaneously makes your heart race and your mind calm. But youโve talked to enough people and pieced together enough of the myths surrounding the past you lived in to know who she is.
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To know who Urbosa is. The woman who owned the desert. At least, she did in your eyes.
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But the myths and stories that the people of Hyrule tell you in exchange for your help donโt explain everything. From what you can tell, they hardly scratch the surface of what all happened 100 years ago. And they do nothing to explain why you couldnโt cross the desert the first time you tried to after waking up. And you did. You did try. You prepared for weeks and followed all the advice and found the right clothes and everything.
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But the first time you tried to go to the desert after waking up, you couldnโt even set foot into the sand. You froze right at the Gerudo Desert gateway, your body going still and your blood running cold. You couldnโt lift your foot or your swords or anything. You just stood there, like some idiot, as your body filled with a fear you couldnโt understand and a stubbornness you just couldnโt beat. Werenโt you a hero just a 100 years ago? Werenโt you known for moving freely, helping others, and exploring every nook and cranny of Hyrule back a 100 years ago? Whatโs happening to you now? Why couldnโt you move? Why couldnโt you just move?
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A few hours later, you were setting up camp just outside of the view of the Gerudo Canyon Stable for the night. Too scared to go any further. Too ashamed to show your face to the very stable men and fellow travelers who were wishing you good luck and good fortune just before the start of your journey. You didnโt know then. The answer didnโt come to you in the three hours you spent right at the Desert Gateway, trying to convince yourself through tears to just take one single step forward. But in the end, it didnโt happen. Nothing happened.
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And you never did truly find out why.
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But that night, as you lay out in the cold by that which was much too small to do anything to keep you warm or help you see, you thought you heard someone calling to you. Every time you sat up and searched for the voice, youโd find nothing but the vastness of the desert in front of you and the canyon behind you, echoing with the distant sounds of the laughter from the stables you didnโt dare return to until morning. Every time, you looked and looked and looked, not daring to call out on your own. But too driven, too desperate, not to look for that rich, warm, honeyed voice that called your name with so much familiarity that it took your breath away.
But looking did nothing. Looking only served to tire you out. Looking made you feel crazy as you continued to find nothing where you swore there was something.Looking made you tired and hungry and scared and lost and confused and desperate. To find the voice. To find answers. To go home. To find peace.
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You lay down after a few hours of looking, too exhausted to stay up and alert. Yet too cold to fall right asleep. And somehowโฆsomehow it was only then, when you had lain down on the ground and closed your eyes, that you heard the voice again.
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You donโt remember all that it whispered to you. You donโt remember what exactly it sounded like. But you know it was strong. Strong in a way that made you feel both strong and so very soft at the same time. And you know it made you feel safe. It made you feel safe through the promises that it whispered to you and the gentle tone that it took on as it began to lull you into the first real sense of security you felt since waking up.
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But most of all? It made you feel brave. Because the voice told you that. It told you that you were brave. For still going. For still fighting. For still trying. For still looking for her, even after everything. The voice told you that you were brave. Very, very, very, brave. You just werenโt ready for the desert yet. At least, thatโs what you recall the voice telling you before you fell asleep while dreaming of being blanketed in shades of blue.
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That was the first and last time you heard the voice call out to you so clearly. And since then, youโve been getting better. A lot better. No, really. You are.
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It took a while to build up your courage and strength to traverse the desert. In between that, you've got to explore different parts of Hyrule, make new friends, help tons of people, and piece together a few more important pieces of your history. But every chance you got, you listened for the voice that called to you that night in the desert. And every now and then, you hear it. It whispers advice to you through the winds of the Hebra Mountains and the clanking of gear in Akkala. It tells you how to fight. How to stay alive. How to make it through the night, or a journey, or a request, or anything you just canโt seem to handle by yourself.
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But it also helps in other ways. You swear, this little voice of yours has led you to the best hidden views and the greatest hot springs and has even kept you from getting ripped off by certain merchants. Itโs strange. Itโs comforting. And every time you have tried to explain it to someone else, they just stop, look at you funny, and ask if you ever considered that this could be your own intuition. Or you knowโฆyou just thinking in your head.
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But you know it's not. You donโt know how, but you just know. Just like how the voice always knows the right way to go and the right steps to take. Just like how the voice always knows what to say when youโre lost or scared or close to giving up. Just like how the voice knew exactly when you were ready to return to the desert for real this time.
Ready to return home.
Only, you were the one who decided to call it that. You were the one who decided to call it home. Itโs not completely strange to you. Apparently, many of the stories around who you were a hundred years ago involved your many feats in the desert. So it wasnโt a total surprise that once you were finally brave enough to step past the desert gateway, navigating became easy. Kara Kara Bazaar felt natural, even during your first visit. And Gerudo townโฆGerudo town made your chest hurt.
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Almost as much as looking at Vah Naboris does.
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And yet, you keep going home. And yet you stay. You speak to the locals. You find ruins that feel almost familiar. You enjoy the food. You deal with the sand in your clothes. You go to the desert. You visit the desert. You belong in the desert, even though it was hard in the beginning. Even though you were scared at first. Even though you have no memory of why it is that you belong here. Even though it feels far too different to be right at times.
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You belong here. You fight well. You work hard. You do your best. You deserve to be here. You deserve to be called a hero. You deserve it, after everything you survived and everything youโve been through. You do.
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At least, thatโs what the voice you call Urbosa tells you.
Okay so I was thinking about public smut with link (botw) since he's always traveling he would probably get in the mood and just do things in the middle of an empty field on a mountainside or even just by the river
To be honest, you should have learned by now that it could happen just about any time or anywhere, really.
Youโve been traveling with him for long enough to remember all his other little habits. You know how he prefers to hunt around dusk and all his favorite fishing spots. You know which way he prefers to pitch the tent or make the shelter in case the two of you need to make a quick escape. You know how often he likes to sharpen his tools, and often heโll drag you into the nearest town for a pitstop and quick refuel of supplies. You know which foods he prefers you to cook for him because he thinks your recipes are better, and which side of the bed he likes best. Hell, you even know when heโs about to run off on some side quest and leave you somewhere just by the subtle twitch of his ears.
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Because you know him. You know his habits. You know what he does. You know what he likes. You know him. So while it took you by surprise, it wasnโt surprising, per se. You know this side of him, too. You just forgot for a moment.
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But a moment was all that it took for him to slip in right behind you, completely undetected, and place his hands on your hips as if that was where they had always belonged.
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โLink!โ You gasp his name breathlessly as you quickly try to steady yourself before you end up eating a face full of dirt after nearly jumping in surprise. โA little warning next time!โ
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He caught you while you were foraging for mushrooms. The part of Milda Woods that you two were in seemed to be full of the normal ones- just ripe for roasting and easy snacking. But you stepped away from helping him start the fire because you swore you had seen some truffles not too far away from where the two of you were making camp. So naturally, you went over to where you thought they were and got on your hands and knees to go searching. And searching. And searching. And searching. And searching. Until suddenly, you were too busy to do any more searching.
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Because the sound of the kneeling man behind you undoing the buckle of his trousers was far too distracting to pay attention to absolutely anything else.
โ
โSorry,โ Your travel companion murmured from behind you, not really sounding all that sorry, as he gave your hip a quick squeeze. Looking over your shoulder at him, you were able to find that his expression told you the exact same thing. That he wasnโt sorry- not in the slightest. His eyebrows were furrowed, his lips were set in a straight line, and his cheeks were flushed a deep red as one of his hands kept fiddling with his pants. โCouldnโt help myselfโฆwant you to look forward though.โ
โ
โLook forward?โ The question falls from your lips dumbly, almost as if youโve never traveled a day with him before. But luckily for him, he doesnโt need to explain. Or rather, he chooses not to explain and instead lets out a low whistle, just to grab your attention. It surprises just enough for a moment that you donโt even see which hand he uses to push the side of your face back to facing forward- just like he initially asked of you. But as the shock of the action wears off, you find yourself feeling a little annoyed by his brashness. Itโs not uncommon. He is a man of few words after all. But in your mind, it wouldnโt kill him to use a few of those words to actually speak to you properly, right? In fact, you have half a mind to turn right back around and to put a stop to what he was doing and to tell him off for always being so rough with you. In fact, you should! And you will.
โ
At least, you wanted to. And for a moment, you really did think about it. But within that moment, he had already pulled down your own trousers, lifted your tunic up, and had pulled your panties to the side.
โ
Just to lick at your slit from behind. ย
โ
โF-fuckโฆโ Is the only thing you can whimper as you feel Linkโs tongue flatten against your pussy once- twiceโฆthree times back to back. Instinctively, you tense up as your back arches at the sensation. It causes you to fall forward a little, and you now have to brace yourself on your elbows instead of your hands as he starts paying a little too much attention to your clit for you to form a proper sentence.
โ
But even that is over far faster than you would have imagined. Because all too quickly, the tongue you were feeling lap at your insides is replaced by the thick, blunt head of Linkโs cock as he lines it up with your entrance. You can do little more but gasp quietly as you feel him drag his cock up and down your wetness, gathering what arousal he can before he starts to push his way past the lower lips of your pussy.
โ
โShitโฆโ He groans deep and low from behind you as he makes his way inside, inch by inch. Though you can barely hear him over how much youโre whining yourself as youโre slowly stuffed full of his cock. Youโre not the wettest you could have been. You know that. He knows that. You both know that. But what little licking and sucking he did do is what is currently allowing him to sink his dick inside of your tight little hole with nothing but whimpers and gasps from your end until he finally, finally bottoms out six excruciating inches later. โYou alright?โ
โ
At his question, you do your best to huff in what you hope is obvious displeasure. Though from the sounds of his low, pleased-sounding chuckles and the way he affectionately strokes your now bare hips while adjusting his grip, you have a feeling the sound you made came off as more pathetic than angry. And that made you angrier- just a little. But of course, he didnโt exactly leave you any time to be angry at him. Because the second he could feel you wiggling your hips and adjusting yourself to better accommodate his own throbbing length within you, he was pulling back his hips and snapping them forward. And doing it again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And-
โ
โO-oh myโฆoh my goddessesโฆLink- Link, fuck!โ You squeal in time with the blondeโs continuous thrusts as he fucks you doggy style in the middle of the woods. โF-fuck, fuck, fuckโฆโ
He only offers you a low, possessive-sounding grunt in return as his grip on your hips tightens just enough to offer him an easier time thrusting inside of you. But that only serves to make things impossibly worse for you as he manages to hit that spot inside you that has you seeing your stars damn near perfectly each and every time.
โ
โYouโre gonna get me in troubleโฆโ He huffs out moments (minutes?) later, despite not bothering to do anything about the now cruel pace of his strokes. His words barely process in your mind. Though for a moment, you are able to piece enough thoughts together to remember the fact that youโre not in the most remote part of the woods. Where he found you- rather, where he now has you bent over, writhing, and drooling into the dirt, leaves, and grass- doesnโt offer that much cover. Sure, there are a couple of trees within arm's reach. And some of the bushes in the immediate vicinity are thick enough to ease some of your fears of being seen in such a compromising position should someone be around.
โ
But if you keep looking forward like Link wanted you to and squint, you could see the path that eventually leads to Hateno village. You could see how easy it is for the two of you to reach civilization. Or rather, how easy it would be for civilization to reach you.
And suddenly, youโre hyperaware of just how wantonly youโre moaning. And how deep his strokes are. And how loud and messy your pussy gets each time he pulls back and pushes his length back in. And how desperately he undressed and mounted you. Just because he saw you bent down and distracted a few paces away. Just because he saw you from behind. Just because he needed this. Needed you.
โ
A few seconds later, Link lets out another groan.
โ
One thatโs immediately followed by a nasty string of curses between his labored breaths- and itโs something youโre not used to hearing due to his inclination to stay silent, even during sex. Those you suppose even he canโt help but fall victim to pleasure. Especially since youโve been starting to tighten up more and more over time now that the growing knot within your lower belly is getting increasingly harder to ignore.
โ
So youโre into what he does to you. So you like the fact that at any moment- at any time, the Hylian Champion could get so needy that even bending down in front of him is a risky move. So you like the fact that he doesnโt seem to care about the timing or place or the fact that the two of you are supposed to be preparing a shelter before nightfall right now. So you like the grabbing, the roughness, the quickness, the riskiness- the animalistic nature of it all. So you like it all. So what?
โ
This particular moment may have come as a surprise, it isnโt really that surprising.
โ
Youโve been traveling with him long enough to know all his little habits and quirks. And maybe you forgot about this one particular habit of his this one time. Or maybe you didnโt. Whose to say? And whose to blame you, either way?
โ
He does take good care of you whenever you two are traveling. And the Hero of the Wild does deserve a little reward for all the good he does. For you. For the people you encounter. Hell, for the whole world too. And you?
โ
Well, letโs just say youโre his happy little companion. Whoโs more than willing to be accommodating. To help him with the needs he canโt fulfill himself. And of course, to go along with the ride. Any ride.
HELLOO, requesting for Alphonse Elric x Reader where they're childhood friends. You can choose whatever scenerio you want, but Id like the reader to also be an alchemist, and a good one at that!
Different, Yet Still Him (Alphonse Elric x Reader)
Youโre not opposed to the fact that Al is bigger than you now.
โItโs strange, yes. Youโre willing to admit that much. But youโre also willing to admit that you noticed that he was starting to pull away from you in terms of height when the two of you were only nine years old. Sure, it made you a little upset when you first came to the realization. Even though it was barely an inch or so at the time, it was still infuriating to a nine-year-old you that there were some shelves that you had to ask Al to reach when you couldnโt (which, upon reflection, was most definitely very dramatic given that you both still had to stand on chairs to reach a lot of things at that age). But looking, you wished you treasured the little things like that a little more.
โ
Back then, you used to be able to borrow his pajamas whenever he and his brother invited you for sleepovers. Back then, you all used to squabble about whose house you all were going to play at on any given afternoon. Back then, you used to race to see who was faster and lift heavy rocks to see who was stronger. Hell, back then, you used to tease the boys about how they werenโt as good at alchemy as you were shaping up to be. Even though you all knew, deep down inside, that they were talented in their own right. Much more than ย nine-year-old you were willing to admit.
โ
But things were different back then. Because back then, Al was only an inch or two taller than you. Back then, things werenโt so serious or tense all the time- like the country wasnโt gearing up for yet another war. Back then, things could be brighter and happier and just good all around. ย
โ
Because back then, your best friend's mother was alive. And his house was still standing tall and proud, just as you remembered it. And he and his brotherโs bodies looked and functioned just like yours. And Al was only an inch or two taller than you. Only. And yetโฆ
โ
โLook! I got this from the library at Central! But I didnโt have time to read it myself on the train here, so weโre going to have to share, okay?โ
โ
And yet youโve come to understand that you would rather live this life where your best friend is two feet taller than you and made out of metal than a life without him at all.
โ
Thatโs why youโre smiling and squealing softly as hollow as the suit of armor you call Alphonse moves towards your bed with a book outstretched as you go to gather your blankets and pillows. The book he has for you is the third volume of a book series on lesser known alchemist theories. It was released a couple of years ago, but the library in Resembol only had copies of the first two volumes since theyโre much, much older. Itโs honestly not the surprise you were expecting to receive from him after he called last week and said he was coming to visit soon. But out of all the souvenirs and goodies from Central he brought to your childhood home for you and your parents to enjoy, this was definitely your favorite. Even though it was only going to be in your possession for the duration of his visit.
โ
Still, you found it hard to care about that little detail as you watched Al awkwardly maneuver around your bedroom in search of a good place for the two of you to sit. No, you were far too busy stifling your laughter as you watched him panic and cry out in alarm any time he came close to knocking down some of the trinkets or knick-knacks or decorations that you had around your room.
โ
Perhapsโฆperhaps thatโs why youโre not so opposed to the fact that Al is much bigger than you now. From what you knew about his family and yours, you always had a feeling that Al being taller than you as the two of you grew older was definitely in the cards (though Ed being much shorter than both of you still has you holding onto a hope that you know you really shouldnโt be). But afterโฆafter he got like this, you had your fears and your worries. Human transmutation was one of the very few universal rules that alchemists swore they wouldnโt break, no matter what. And of course, you know better than to naively think that everyone will follow every rule, all the time, no matter what. But things changed when you learned what Ed and Al did.
โ
You donโt know all the details. You never asked, and they never offered. But from what little you were able to pick up, you had some trouble seeing them the same way as you did before it all happened. Not to mention, they changed themselves for a while. They were quieter for a while. More intense for a while. More estranged. More secretive. Moreโฆmore different than you than theyโve ever been before. And in some ways, they still are like that now. Even your sweet, sweet best friend, Al.
โ
But even soโฆAl is still near tears when he knocks over the lamp on your dresser in a way that has it crashing to the floor with an ugly, unflattering sound. And heโs still full of apologies and panicked cries and promises to pay for anything he broke as you grab his hand and gently guide him toward the small blanket and pillow pile you set up for the two of you, right by the base of your bed. And when he sits down right next to you, thereโs a heavy thud that you still have trouble getting used to hearing as he drops down. Though the sound is only dulled by the fact that he planted himself on the cushion you set up just for him. You know he doesnโt need it as you do. His body doesnโt get the same aches and pains from sitting on the hardwood floor of your bedroom like yours does. You also know that he doesnโt really get cold anymore. So thereโs no reason for you to be adjusting the biggest blanket you own so that it fits over both his legs and yours completely. He doesnโt feel these sorts of things. Not anymore. Not since everything happened. And you know this much because you asked him before.
โ
But you donโt care. Because he reaches for the blanket out of instinct. And because youโre not willing to give up an old routine you have with a friend whoโs still here, despite it all.
โ
And sure, itโs a tighter fit underneath the blanket now. And you have to rest your face against cool metal instead of a warm shoulder in order to read together like you used to. But his voice is still the same as he gushes over the words on the pages with you. And his personality- his gentleness and consideration for you is still there as he asks for your permission every time he wants to flip a page. It is. Despite everything, it is.
โ
So, noโฆyouโre not opposed to the fact that Al is bigger than you now. Youโre also a lot more accepting of the fact that he and his brother performed Human Transmutation now than you were in the past. Just like youโre warming up to the fact that your best friend is a soul trapped in a suit of armor and his older brother is a military dog. Just like youโre coming to realize that this new Al- this one that suddenly gets quiet and tight-lipped when you ask about certain details about his research or travels or adventures is here to stay. But you canโt complain. Not too much anyway. After all, itโs still Al. Itโs still your Al. And for you? Right now?
HELLO! This is just a question...Do you think Spike would be something like Flynn Rider? (Regarding the relationship with Rapunzel) I think Flinn's personality goes really well with Spike's. (Sorry if this is weird, but I really wanted to ask this question.)
Well, that's all! Have a nice day, afternoon, or evening, and stay happy and healthy :D
a little bit, tbh. it's been a super long time since i've seen the movie so apologies if I get flynn's characterization wrong! but as charming as spike can be, I feel like spike is inherently a lot more selfish in a way that makes spike a bigger asshole than flynn ever was
that said, i do feel like spike outwardly appears as flynn and might be that way for people he appreciates (especially thinking about when flynn started to open up and get more emotionally raw). but those are just my thoughts!!
Are you ever going to make a 2nd part of your 'tell no one' spy familie fic? It was so damn good especially with thatast part TvT love your writing style
thank you!! and perhaps! i know i've had a few people before ask for a 2nd part, but never had anything officially sent to my inbox (at least, not while my requests were open)! but it would def be cool to explore!
okay first- didn't mean to take a month long break there. it was intentional (i was really busy with school and just didn't have the capacity to keep writing and posting), but it's calming down now since i passed my master's proposal defense and finished up my first year of grad school! horray!! it was hard and super dramatic at times (boo!!) but i did it and now that it's summer and i have less assignments, im hoping i can go back to writing yayay! i miss it a lot lololol
also, another note:
thank you so much for 7,000 followers! I wish I could have announced it when it first happened, but either way, I'm super super grateful for all your support! all the hearts, reblogs, comments, and notes in my inbox always mean the world to me!! hopefully i'll keep making you guys proud and writing stuff worth reading!
also starting tomorrow, I'll be going back to my regular posting schedule of uploading something once every three days. im gonna do my best not to disappear again (no promises) and fulfill all the requests i've been sitting on so i can open them back up again!
Knowing how dramatic he is, heโd probably wake up with a start and shoot out of the bed in a way that makes you worried and think that heโs having a nightmare
But seeing you just in the chair by his bed, putting your book down just to rush over to him just makes things worse because
one) you looked so comfy there over there with your face buried in your book
and now youโre sitting on the edge of the bed, fretting over him, which makes him feel sooo bad and guilty
two) the dream is soooo fresh in his mind
So ofc thatโs all he can think about as you lean in close and try to figure out whatโs wrong with him
Ed being Ed, it probably gets to the point where is thoughts become too much and he shouts and flails and possibly even falls off the bed while yelling at you to get away
It probably takes a while for him to calm down, and it really only happens because you keep approaching it gently, as if he had a nightmare and heโs having a bad waking reaction from it
Your calmness probably quiets his shouting a bit and calms him down, but even as heโs able to think more clearly, the memories of his dream is going strong in his mind
So when you do convince him to go back to bed, donโt be surprised when he suddenly switches to sleeping on his side- facing away from your gaze
Lol I really love Shura and I really love Deceptive appearance tropes & stark opposites trope.
So I was hoping for another deceptive Appearance S/O for Shura Kirigakure with the S/O instead of looking like a musclehead like those Shura's previously dated instead he has a rough punk rock look, coupled with an intimidating case of RBF so Rin, Yukio and the other students are intimidated by him, until he actually speaks and he's actually pretty soft and friendly which leads to people wondering how someone like this is dating Shura.
I'm not sure if you've seen Bocchi the Rock but S/O would basically be like the manager Ginjiro or Gin chan of FOLT.
It probably takes everyone a really long time to get to know the true you
Because first of all, the minute you two start dating, she probably starting showing off your picture to everyone and telling them about how much of a hunk you are just to be annoying
But also because when you start coming around, you actually donโt get a chance to speak much before being whisked away by her
So for the longest time, all everyone knew of you was based off the particularly scary photos Shura would show off and their chance encounters with you looking like some sort of silent brute
So naturally, everyone is pretty scared of you because youโre strong like Shura, but actually super super scary and intimidating looking
However, itโs not until the cram school kids finds themselves alone with you after Shura ditches the them with you does everyoneโs perception of you
Mostly because you finally open your mouth to speak in the gentlest voice possible while telling them how much Shura is proud of them and how itโs an honor to meet some many brilliant, young new ex-wires
Instantly seeing how full of compliments and soft energy behind all that scary exterior has everyone starting to warm up to you (and it gets better and better with each conversation they have with you)
But upon realizing that youโre actually nice, they canโt help but wonder how on earth did Shura score someone like you??? Like really??
Not that anyone would actually go out of their way and ask of course- everyone is still pretty interested in keeping their head
