Hands full with you - Alma

Alma had been in the base camp for a full 24 hours now. More than that actually. 26 hours 36 minutes and—48 seconds. And that was unusual because she was alone in the base camp. Thankfully it wasn’t too hard to get {user} to take some days off every now and then. Especially if she can get some other hunters help her convince {user}. But this time it was only partially a day off. While Alma stayed back at the base camp helping with some bookkeeping {user} went out into the surrounding Windward Plains to do some surveying. And just surveying.

Of course while hunting without authorization was technically illegal there were extenuating circumstances. Emergencies and the like. And Alma wasn’t stupid, she knew {user} would likely end up involved with something like that. She didn’t get too much sleep last night worrying about {obj}. Not that she ever doubted her partner’s ability to take care of {ref}. She’s just...well it’s what a good girlfriend does. Care about the one she loves not dying and all that. And well...she knows {obj}. They’re both too similar. If someone is in danger even alone and outnumbered {user} will be there in a heartbeat.

But thankfully her worry is at an end. “Welcome back.” It takes everything in Alma to not immediately tackle {user}. That tent flap takes an eternity to close and when it finally does she’s already in hugging range. {user}’s armor has clearly been used, not damaged or anything. It’s not like {sub} had hunted an arch-tempered...okay well {sub} better not have or she’ll chew that pretty face out for it.

{user} returns the hug but ends it quickly to place down {poss} weapon. And Alma sees it once her hunter has turned. A burn mark on the lower end of {user}’s armored belt. “I knew it.” And {user}’s locking up at her words tells her everything she needs to know. It isn’t just the fact that {sub} had a burn mark. Again emergencies happen. It was the nature of the burn. “Not a bad job on the cleanup Hunter. But this little burn gives you away.” Alma is frowning, her brows creased in annoyance. A scowl that almost feels like a lecturing mother.

“Don’t even try or say it was a Quematrice. That’s an oil burn. You went to the Basin.” She clenched her hands at her sides before relaxing them. Bringing her arms up and cradling her elbows. “You promised me you would just stick to surveying the plains. You promised me you would take it easy for a bit.” Alma almost looks—no she does look hurt. “I trusted you to go out without me.” That ever present optimistic chime in her voice and sparkle in her eyes is weakened a bit. She’s not crying, not yet at least. But it hurts, right where the love sits in her heart.

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Alma wasn’t happy and when Alma isn’t happy {user} isn’t happy. Unless {sub} happen to be the reason she’s upset. Like now. Even as she worked on getting {poss} armor off she was grimacing, grumbling to herself but loud enough that {user} can hear her frustration. “Ridiculous.” Her hunter is a gloriously beautiful strong and brave human. But by everything material and ethereal sometimes she genuinely questions if there’s a brain behind that gorgeous face.

“Care to explain to me why you see a fully charged Rey Dau about to fire and your best idea was to take it with your entire chest?!” Alma moves to take off the now ruined chest piece, {user} sitting there with {poss} head dipped in shame and guilt. “Gemma is the happy one, she gets to make something new.” She grumbled, tossing the arc burned armor piece aside by the tent flap. “But I almost had a heart attack thank you very much.” She really really wants to be mad. And she is, but dammit if she’s glad her love is okay.

That and at least the intention was pure.

The armor had thankfully absorbed more or less all of the damage. But even with the chest piece stripped off Alma didn’t stop. The rest of {user}’s clothing soon followed, including the stuff worn under the armor. She takes in the scant burn from arcing lighting running down the inner left thigh. The slight reddness around {poss} belly where the railgun shot hit. And almost lets herself fully relax knowing that yeah. Her favorite dummy is fine. “I should hit you y’know that?” She takes {user}’s hand in hers, nuzzling against it. “I love you.”

Alma let her eyes close for a moment. Giving {user} another once over when she’s done. And noticed something peculiar. Mainly that the lightning energy must’ve still been coursing through her hunter’s nervous system. As {poss} body was...quite excited. “Well. I am a Handler after all.” She rolls her eyes, getting up from her kneeling position. This is not in her job description but it’s become her favorite part of work. “c’mere.”

“{user}~” Alma’s voice left her just as shaky as her legs. Spread legs that is as she laid back on her cot. Propped up on her elbows as her Hunter worked {poss} tongue against her folds with dedication. Her toes curled against the fabric floor of the tent. Months of this and {user} was certainly an expert in her weak points by now. It wasn’t fair, but she didn’t care. She’ll get her revenge after she’s done cumming on {poss} face.

Alma lifts her left leg and drapes it over {user}’s shoulder, biting her lip to try and keep quiet. It was night at the main base camp. So people were asleep thankfully but still this was the most concentrated location for guild members in the whole of the Forbidden Lands...that only made it more exciting. But she tried to keep her volume somewhat under control. ‘I should’ve taken my tunic off before this, I’m too hot already.’ The desert nights were thankfully cool but didn’t do anything to stop—

“Yo Hunter? You asleep in there already?” It was pretty early, and Gemma knew her teammates well enough to know they’re definitely not asleep. She just didn’t know what was being interrupted. Alma stood on shaky legs that thankfully steadied after her core stopped being assailed. She was the one to walk over given that {user} had a...lil something on {poss} face. Peaking her head out through the tent flap and keeping most all of her torso behind it. Bent over a bit and smiling up at her best friend who’s already taller than her just baseline.

“Oh G-Gemma. Hi I’m just w-waiting for the Hunter to get back. Late night training a-all that.” Alma is a so-so liar but the slightly disbelieved hair and the askew glasses, which she reaches up with two fingers to fix, likely give away the goat. The thing is the three share an unspoken understanding that...the blacksmith knows of the relationship. Not to matter though, lies come in stages and she’ll just make something up about having been asleep. “You know how {sub} can Get-!!”

Alma’s voice is thrown into a screech as she feels {user}’s fingers slide inside her. She can’t even turn around to yell at—or even glare at {obj} obviously as she just lied about being alone in here. And of course Gemma just smirks. “Uh-huh?” She crossed her arms while shifting her weight to one side, clearly enjoying this.

{user}’s free hand reached up and grabbed at the end of Alma’s hair, pulling it back and making the handler drool. Alma’s fingers tightened in the tent flap, lip biting fiercely as she’s trying her damn best to keep the screams in. “Y-Yeah so I’m—just a bit preoccupied at the moment.” Her eyes nearly going blank as she feels those fingers slide out of her, groping her ass before sliding back in.

Gemma just shakes her head with the energy of “You kids”, even if she’s like the same age. “Right—well when the Hunter gets back you just let {obj} know I need a favor.” Gemma leans towards the tent flap a bit more, though not in the direction of Alma’s face. Away from it in fact. “And you do owe me now.” She grins, directly at where she assumes {user} is. Turning and waving back over her shoulder. Alma immediately pulling the tent closed.

The Icedshard Cliffs were—well it wasn’t anything surprising to call it cold. One needed warm clothing and/or a warm drink to be able to stand the place. And her hero always withstood it with ease. Though thankfully back at the base camp things are far more temperate. Enough that she didn’t need to bother with the extra heavy coat. Slumping off her typical jacket once they’re back in the tent like usual.

An Arch Tempered Jin-Dahad. Not something the average hunter can just bring down, even in a team. While Alma’s partner had managed it with a three man squad, well 3 human and 3 palico squad. And minimal damaged to the hunters involved.

She could see Gemma salivating as they returned to camp with the good news. Once that thing’s body was broken down and the parts delivered she’d get to have a field day making {user} new gear. But while the blacksmith had to wait to play, the handler had much more pressing matters.

“You did such a good job. But I guess that’s cheating since you always do amazing.”

Setting her backpack on the side of her cot. And taking care of other small housekeeping tasks Alma finally turns to her partner. Unable to help herself from smiling. Raising and opening her arms to {user}.

“Well we’re home. C’mere. You’ve earned a hug.” This is why she loves {user}. So many people would assume it’s just hormones. That it’s two attractive people who spend everyday together in life threatening situations falling into bed. Stress relief, convenience, adrenaline. It’s none of those things...the last one sometimes. Maybe. They’ve connected, mentally and emotionally. It’s love, and right now she just wants to bring her hero peace.

A hunter’s tent was far from spacious, a little bit of compact comfort. Pop-up was in the name for a reason, to be thrown about in any safe area out of the field to give the two some comfort. The Scarlet Forest is Erik’s favorite locale they’ve visited so far. Thick and teeming with biodiversity, Alma is partially in agreement. Oh but the sands of the plains are fraught with fossils. And the ruins of Wyveria are packed with history, it’s hard to pick. But on a night like tonight, with clear skies and a moon peaking through the tall canopy painting the red river and green leaves with an etheric blue—yeah she’s leaning towards the forest. At least for now.

{user} and {poss} palico partner were sleeping while she just sat on the steps of the tent, the flap open, a small fire flickering a few paces away. The lantern overhead was the primary light source to illuminate her reading.

Her ears were preened, just in case something lumbered out of the treeline. She’d just retreat inside, she wasn’t going to wake up {user}. But {sub} had done that {ref}. She jumped a bit when she felt the presence behind her, clutching her journal and turning her head. “Oh, sorry was I being too loud?” {user} looks down on her with concern. She must have her emotions written on her face. “N-No I promise I’m okay.”

Yeah that excuse isn’t going to work and she knows it. Sighing, Alma closes her book. Getting up and walking to the fire, no need to wake the kitty. “I just—I guess I dreamed about my parents.” She gazes down into the dancing flames. She doesn’t remember her village at all, but she knows it was burned by a wyvern type monster. She was only five though. So it’s not the typical tragic backstory. She didn’t join with the guild out of some burning sense of vengeance. She joined because when they took her orphaned butt in she discovered her love of learning. “I’m not sad, not like someone would be when thinking about that. You know what I mean?” Alma hates talking about this. So long of having people offer condolences for her losing a life she never knew long enough to even miss. And worry if she had the “correct” reaction. “I didn’t get to know them as mom and dad. To me they’re just people who died to monsters. And in our line of work you have to go numb to that a bit.”

Honestly she doesn’t know why she’s being so guarded here. {user} has never been someone she’s needed to censor herself for. Truthfulness and trust, that vulnerability. It’s the foundation of their relationship. “We’ve both lost people special. I told you that’s why I picked you to be my hunter. Do you ever think about them? Am I...weird?”

Fairytales were nice in their simplicity. That’s what made them into household names after all. Everyone can understand the knight in shining armor throwing himself in harms way against a dragon for the damsel in distress. And most dream of getting to experience something like that for real. Only dreams are far less romanticized in reality.

The Rathian and her male counterpart are the “Baby’s first wyvern” of monster hunters. They’re simplistic, and common. For a hunter as experienced as {user} it was hardly anything resembling a threat. And yet Alma just had to spend 20 minutes flushing poison from {user}’s system. The wyvern was dead of course but the emergency shouldn’t have happened.

The monster lived in the Scarlet forest. The greenery gives Rathians great camouflage for hunting. Given their effectiveness it was natural hunters would regularly need to be deployed to quell the numbers. And it would’ve been a simple day, {user} even nearly had that damn tail cut off. But the Rathian be it by blind thrashing of a desperate dying beast or a targeted move had thrown fire breath in an arc. Alma knew to always keep herself at a distance from any fight. But this time the normally wet ground was dry during the fallow and burned away the brush she was hiding behind. The Rathian noticed the weak link and moved in. Again Alma was fine, running and hiding from a weakened lumbering Wyvern wasn’t hard. She just needed to wait for it to commit to an attack and scamper away. But in that waiting, before she could even begin her plan {user} threw {ref} at the beast. With a lack of the technique expected of a hunter of such caliber. And in the melee would get stabbed by that poison tipped tail.

Rath venom isn’t all that potent in comparison to other monsters {user}’s been hit by. Alma wasn’t ever concerned with the idea of {user} dying. It just wouldn’t happen, still...

“You didn’t need to do that.” She only let her voice drop in tone when they were finally alone in the tent. Dropping her backpack to the floor like a lump instead of tossing it beside her cot as usual. Before that she was typical ole Alma to everyone else, not letting off anything that would show concern or a troubled mind.

Her hand comes up to grab the edge of her jacket. Stopping short of pulling it off. “This is exactly why we...we aren’t allowed to do this. To be this.”

Her hand falls back to her side, Alma dipping her head. “You’re not...you should trust me more. Okay well you do trust me more. To take care of myself I mean. I know that.” Alma grips the pendant around her neck, she needs a minute to find the words. Even though she’s been thinking about it the entire ride home. “I...I know what you look like when you act on instinct. That’s what you did.”

For a moment it’s too much and she cups her face in her hands. Taking a deep centering breath. “Look I...I love you. I do. But if that’s going to happen again then we...”

That isn’t something she can say out loud. That they’ll have to stop. Either just pretend to not be in love, to not know what the other person feels like. Sounds like...tastes like. Or worse have to transfer to new partners. Alma can’t...

But next time it might not be a Rathian. Maybe it’ll be an Arkveld and instead of seeing her partner’s face as a stinger pierces {poss} skin maybe she’ll...see the eyes as {user} gets bisectted by a chain blade.

“Please.” Her voice is wracked, and she tries to keep her composure desperately, as well as push that gory mental image away. “Don’t treat me like a civilian. If I couldn’t handle things I’d stay at camp while you go out and be a hero like a fledgling handler. I’m out there with you cause I’m strong. I can survive.”

Sild was the closest thing for a home away from home. Suja and the accompanying gathering hub had too many of the guild around to notice them. Here it was private, and the wilk baths had healing properties making their frequent trips here reasonable without needing some convoluted excuse.

In their private sanctuary a naked Alma lead {user} to a wilk bath, just for them. The villagers willing to do anything for the hunter that slayed Zoi-Shia and the Guardian Arkveld. Even if that meant safeguarding a secret from the Hunter’s Guild. The Handler smiled up at {user} as she stepped down into the pool, loosely holding {poss} hands while biting her lip.

This made every secret longing glance and every life threatening hunt worth it. Pushing {user} gently down by the chest and shoulders to sit, straddling {poss} lap after. “For once you aren’t coming to me filthy.” Alma leans down and steals a kiss, a burningly sweet gesture in contrast to the look in her eyes. She’s a mix of emotions right now. That wholesome innocent love mixed with a burning lust. But undercut by her duty. Though none that are a handler’s responsibility. Hands trailing down her partner’s body. Just because Alma has a mission doesn’t mean she’s above teasing her Hunter. Taking off her glasses and leaning into {user} to place them on the stone ridge. And making a show of taking off her headband and unbraiding her hair. Fluffing it out behind her. “I just felt you tense up. You know we’re supposed to be relaxing, right Hunter~?”

She dismounts {user} and kneels in the wyvern milk. Starting from the bottom and working up. Grinning at how shy her brave Hunter gets at the idea of {poss} girlfriend washing {poss} feet like some king and servant. “Stop fussing, I’m doing this because I want to.” ’And because you deserve it.’ But she keeps that thought inside. Working up to {user}’s shin, kissing the kneecap poking up above the wilk’s edge.

However she isn’t going to let herself get distracted for even a second. She has a job. Beyond cleaning and looking at her Hunter like {sub} hung the stars and moon. “And because I know you.” She grabs at {user}’s hips. Making sure the skin is all one texture. Sliding her hands inwards towards {poss} crotch. “Don’t think you’re getting lucky. I’m making sure you aren’t hiding any wounds. Again.” More than a year as {user}’s handler now and sadly has learned her partner is far from immune to that hunter cliche of hiding any weaknesses. Curling her hands up {user}’s rear.

The Forbidden Lands were no stranger to things that honestly didn’t seem natural. Like that weird Akuma guy they’d ran into a few months back who seemingly killed monsters with his bare hands. This one was different, and more dangerous. The four legged spider shaped other planetary invader. Or other dimensional. It was really fucking confusing and Alma didn’t like giving it too much thought.

Omega Planetes. {user} is a strong and experienced hunter. But all those who are here in the Forbidden Lands agree that thing is a terrifying beast.

Even four experienced veteran hunters can struggle with it. {user} has killed it, and lost to it in equal measure. Today being one of the latter. No one died, that was the important part, they just had to retreat and hopefully other master rank hunters could finish off the softened mechanical menace.

{user}’s wounds were fully mended. And {poss} armor and weapons discarded to the storage box until the next time the trio would go out to work. The palico was out fishing so Alma and {user} had alone time. Which is why the big bad hunter was currently laying {poss} head in the handler’s lap. It’s okay. You can’t win em all y’know.” Her voice was gentle and ever so soft. Without a hint of mocking condescension, just genuine affection as she rubbed {user}’s hair. Running her nails along the scalp. “It’s not your fault anyway. You train to hunt monsters, biological calamities. Omega is some robot thingy.”

She had to lean her body a bit awkwardly but she managed to fold herself to plant a kiss on {user}’s temple, stroking right over the skin after. “You’re still my hero.” It is never even once a bit of hyperbole or exaggeration. From the minute she first saw {user} in action. It just inspires her to live.

Fabius is a man defined by duty. The Lance is a fitting weapon for him, stalwart. A wall who embodies the very guild’s reason of existing. The first and last line of defense between nature and humanity, and the calamities that would destroy both. That’s also the reason for the rule. Be it between two hunters, hunter and handler, hunter and smith romantic relationships are forbidden. If such feelings are growing it isn’t like one will immediately be forced out of their role. For hunter x hunter ;) relationships for example the hunters will simply not be allowed to go out on quests together. It brings emotions into something that needs to be without distraction or favoritism. But not so draconian as to deny that yes, it obviously will happen. Literally being human nature to love those you trust. Not always romantically but enough lovers have been killed over stupid sympathies that it needs to be restricted.

Alma and {user} are aware of this, more than that they know what’s at stake. And not talking about their careers. If they’re reckless with their love real people face the consequences. Deadly consequences. That is something neither will allow to happen. It’s why the romance is more or less confined to an on and off switch. There’s an obvious bit of tension and every now and then one will slip up and look at the other for just a bit too long, or in a certain way. But outside of that most people don’t suspect much. Here, in Suja at night, it can be on. In private of course.

...Relative private. Like around a cliffside with Alma’s back to the rocks, the crescent moon above was just too damn romantic. And she loved being made to feel small by her hunter, that and the small risk sends her heart pounding against her ribcage like a chained beast. The chance of being caught, and of being held helplessly in the air by a person that can easily heft a great sword, she’s nothing by comparison. And she loves it.

A meek little gasp slipped out as {user} nipped at her cheek playfully between kisses. Causing Alma to follow with a giggle. It’s quiet even among the peaceful night, but a hunter has to be keen. Just in case it’s something wrong Fabius goes to investigate. {user} of course is a hunter too, so can tell the Ace Lancer is approaching. Alma doesn’t question when her love retreats from her and tries to straighten her outfit. While {user} does that Alma makes sure her hair and glasses aren’t askew. Picking her jacket off the ground and sliding it back on.

Fabius is there by the time {user} is finished straightening {ref} up. But his eyes narrow at the sight. “S-Sir. Is something wrong? You’re welcome to join us, we were just admiring the view.” Alma is a decent liar all things considered. Though clearly doesn’t like doing so to a man who has done so much for her.

“I had simply heard sounds.” He looks over the two, the silence following is oppressive in its weight. Almost physical in feeling. He’s thinking, and Alma doesn’t remember a monster’s stare down ever making her this scared. “You two...should be careful around the cliffside. One slip up can lead to dire consequences. The kind one can’t come back from nor have your...superiors protect you from.” He huffs, his stoic visage never cracking.

There are levels to the conversation. He knows, and he’s making it as clear as he can. Always duty bound, always following the rules to the letter. But Fabius is still human, this is the hunter that felled Zoi-Shia, The Guardian Arkveld, Omega Planetes. Instrumental in helping him slay Gore Magala and Gogmazios. Even if Fabius doesn’t know when the romance came about, it’s clearly not affected the results. Maybe it’s even bolstered {user} to these heights. “Enjoy the peaceful night, tomorrow may bring new hunts, be ready.” He turns, waving slightly as he heads back down the cliffside path. Leaving the two in privacy. Alma seeks comfort in her hunter, wrapping her hand around {poss} fingers as her other hand curls over her pendant.

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