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artemismoorea03 · 1 year ago

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(Am I a little late for this? Yes, yes I am. But I was sick yesterday so it doesn't count :3)

Danny's shoulders trembled, as he clenched his teeth. Countless voices assaulting his ears as shadows danced angrily against the walls. It had started out as one or two but now there were hundreds if not thousands of voices surrounding him, all determined to either 'coax' him into avenging them or allowing them to overshadow him so that they can take care of it themselves.

He had gotten better at resisting being overshadowed, something him intentionally began to practice after this cloning bullshit with Vlad. But being overshadowed by one ghost was easier than trying to fight off a literal army of ghosts all aiming to kill or maim one man.

Joker.

Danny had been working his part time job at Amusement Mile (off the books of course because nobody could hire him properly due to his age and lack of paperwork) when the Joker decided that he was going to claim the park as his personal playground. Danny had helped get who he could out before he was caught by Joker's Goons and taken to the Chair Swing Ride and bound to the swing he was sat in.

Now, if this was Freakshow or a ghost of some kind Danny would just phase through the swing and get free from the situation. But this time he couldn't for a multitude of reasons.

1) There were nearly 50 swings each one with a civillian on it.

2) Joker was right in front of them.

3) Joker insisted on broadcasting almost all of his crimes went meant they were currently live on "JokerTV".

None of them made for a good situation for anybody but then it got worse when he noticed one ghost, then two, then twenty and the numbers kept growing and growing. Shades and full bodied ghosts alike surrounded the situation and when they realized Danny could see them and that he was one of them the voices started.

They all had stories about how Joker had killed them, betrayed them, or even how it had been their lives work to take them down. Countless ghosts, countless stories, and Danny couldn't respond or let anybody else know they were there. Which seemed to infuriate the Ghosts more as they started crying to overshadow him.

It was getting harder and harder to fight them off and then when Joker walked over to Danny he started feeling physically sick. His head was killing him, his stomach was twisting, he was ready to throw up.

"Aww, look at little Timmy here." He said, grabbing Danny’s hair and making him face the camera. "For one easy payment of $20,000 you can save him and all of these other folks from demise."

Danny looked at Joker, hoping that his eyes weren't glowing blue or green as he did so. "Listen, Clown. You really don't wanna do this."

"No? I think I do, Sunny-Boy! Wait... are you a Wayne?" Joker asked tugging Danny’s hair more as he looked him over. "Hm... no, but close! I never forget the face of somebody I've tormented and you're not one of them. Well, until today." Joker shrugged, finally letting Dannys hair go.

Kill him.

Maim him.

He deserves it.

Avenge us.

Save them.

The voices continued to talk all at once.

"Now, here's the game of the night. Round and round the swings will go! Up up and up and then when it reaches its highest point it will release my patented Joker Gas and give the crowd all kinds of giggles! Then we'll release the swings and show our dear participants what it's like to fly! Now, let the games begin!" Joker said, jogging over to the control mechanism and pulling down a handle as the ride began to move with a loud clank.

Danny let out a breath as he looked at the main part of the machine. If he could freeze the machine or at least cool it down enough to buy time for the batsquad to get there and stop them. It risked blowing his cover, but at this point it was a chance he had to take.

Summoning his core forward just enough to use his ice abilities he began to freeze the seat and freeze up the chain. The layer of ice was thin enough that it didnt look different - albeit a bit more shiny - and went through the swing arm.

Danny could hear a new voice as he looked down seeing the Red Hood arrive on scene. Danny couldn't focus on the conversation or the fight that broke out right after. He had to focus on the ice. If his swing got too cold and the chain snapped he would be in trouble but he had to get the ice to the center of the machine which meant a lot of focus.

Danny let out a breath, steam flowing out of his mouth as he continued pushing the flow of ice. Once the ice hit the center of the machine and the machine began making a shrieking grinding noise he cranked down the tempature and froze the mechanisms, casuing the spinning to stop and leaving Danny more exhausted than he'd felt in a while.

They were up high and trapped but they weren't still spinning or in immediate danger. Meaning Danny had a chance to breathe and watch the fight happening bellow. Red Hood wasn't alone anymore in his fight against Joker. Now Batman, Robin, Red Robin and Nightwing were all on scene with Red Robin turning of the ride while the others took Joker and his goons down.

Finish it.

Kill the Joker.

Avenge us.

Danny sighed, then whispered. "I'm not that kind of Ghost, guys. You want revenge but that's not what you need... I'm sorry..."

The ghosts fell quiet for a moment, then shrieked as the Bats defeated Joker and Firetrucks arrived on scene to help them down. While Firetrucks got some of them down the Bats helped others get down which is who ended up saving Danny.

Or trying.

"You okay?" Nightwing asked, hanging in front of Danny.

"Yeah, just... motion sick." He lied as Nightwing nodded then went to cut the ropes with a knife as he frowned.

"They're frozen..." He said, glancing at Danny. "Did you do this?"

"Would you believe me if I said it was just really cold up here?" Danny asked, ignoring how terrible he was feeling as Nightwing raised a brow. "Fine... it was me. But I only did it because I can't afford to get Joker Gassed. Do you know how hard it is for a kid like me to get good healthcare." He said, melting the ice on the ropes so Nightwing could cut him loose.

Once Danny was free he let Nightwing "help" him out of his seat and the two lowered to the ground.

"So does that mean you stopped the ride? It didn't malfunction?"

"For legal reasons; no. It wasn't me."

"Legal reasons?" Nightwing asked as they touched the ground.

"Yeah. Because if I told you, you'd have to kill me." He said, moving away from Nightwing who looked shocked. "Anyways, thanks for the save." He said with a stumble and a wave as he walked away from Nightwing.

"Hey, wait a second." Nightwing called before he got intercepted by an officer who came to talk to the hero. Giving Danny a perfect chance to duck behind a fire truck, go invisible, and vanish into the night.

(Wrote most of this on my phone so if there are mistakes please ignore them~)

Happy Halloween! Have a prompt.

Danny can be overshadowed ( it's canon). So in this, he is kidnapped by the Joker. The Joker tied him up and is now monologuing about the bats or whatever. Danny is not listening. Not because he doesn't care no it's because he is trying not to get overshadowed by the hundreds of ghosts that are trying to get him to kill the Joker.

#dp x dc prompt reply #dc x dp prompt reply #dp x dc #dc x dp

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labyrinth-runner · 4 years ago

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“I might already be on me knees, but I’m still gonna make you say please.” Darkling x Fem!Reader

Title: Worth the Wait

Summary: Reader is insecure of their powers and their ability to be the sun summoner. General Kirigan assures them that they have what it takes.

Word Count: 2600

Warnings: It's sinful sunday folks. This is literally going to turn into smut. Unprotected smut. Marking.

You'd been at the Little Palace for almost a month and by now you felt like you should have been making progress. They called you a Saint, and prayed to you so that you would be their deliverance, but who would deliver you? Who would save you? The weight of your responsibilities was almost debilitating on your shoulders. Most of the Grisha looked at you like you were so much better than them, like they could only dream of being you.

If only they knew the truth. You were a sham. You could barely manage to bring forth your power on the good days. Your arm had felt the wrath of Baghra's rage more than once this week.

Your power on your own was nothing like when Aleksander touched you. When his hand closed around your wrist, it was like your power would do anything for him. It bent to his will, and you were okay with that. The warm sureness washed over you and made you feel for one small moment that you might actually belong here. With the Grisha. With him.

The way he looked at you made you feel like you were more than you actually are. He made you want to live up to that look.

After another failed day of practice, you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned in your comfortable bed, unable to relax. Eventually, you decided to get out of bed.

Your feet took you down to the main hall downstairs. The room was empty. Fires crackled in the hearths as their embers cooled from neglect. Your hand dragged along the tables, settling on the Darkling's seat. He had never used it in your time at the Palace, yet the Grisha fought over where they sat in relation to this chair.

There was nothing special about the chair. Its dark wood was smooth under your fingers. Casting a glance around, you pulled it out and sat, looking out over the empty chairs around you.

"It suits you," a voice said from behind you.

You jumped up, turning to see the silhouette of the General leaning against the open door to the war room. "I-I'm sorry, General."

"For what?" he asked, "For taking your rightful place? You should be sitting there, anyway. Not with the other Etherealki. You're not like them, Starling."

You blushed, looking down. "I know I'm not like them. They belong here. I don't."

"Come," he murmured, pushing the door wider for you to enter. "Let me set your mind at ease."

You passed by with bated breath, smelling the familiar scent of ash and cedar wash over you. Your eyes fell on the map resting on the table. The armies of Ravka were stretched thin, with enemies surrounding from all sides as well as from within. The door closed with a thud.

"Do you know why our enemies wish you dead?" he asked cooly.

"Because I am Grisha and Fjerdans hate our kind?" you replied.

His lips turned up slightly, "A good guess, but no. With your power, you can destroy the fold and reunite Ravka. A united country is stronger. We would loose less men, have more area to farm, and would have a better supply route. With you gone, we remain divided, an easy target for those who would wish Ravka harm."

You sighed, shoulders bowing forward. "I'm not capable of that."

"Not yet," he replied in your ear. His voice sent a shiver down your spine, "But you will be."

"How can you be so sure?" you asked, stepping forward out of his reach. Nervously, you rubbed your arms as you looked over the map.

"For a sun summoner, you surround yourself with darkness," he commented. A chill went through you as one by one the lights were consumed by pitch black night. "If you surround yourself with darkness, it's no wonder you can't find the light."

Your hair stood on end as you bumped into the table. Pieces on the war map toppled over. "If you're testing me, it won't work. There's no light here."

"There's no light in the fold, either," he countered.

"I'm not strong enough."

"Yes, you are." His voice was all around you, like the darkness. "You're just looking in the wrong places for the light."

"What do you mean?"

"You're a sun summoner. Your power comes from within. You need to stop looking outward for the power, the validation. The only person who can unlock your true potential is you."

"That's not true! When you touch me I-"

"When I touch you, I amplify what's already there. I make it easier for you to find it within you, but it's always been there, Starling."

You swallowed. The darkness was oppressive. Your voice was softer, less sure. "I can't."

"You can," he murmured. "All of those people believe in you. Why can't you believe in yourself?"

"Because they don't know me!"

"But they do. You are their Saint! The world has known you before you knew the world!"

"I'm no Saint. I'm just... I'm just me," you replied, frustrated.

"And what are you?"

"I..." Your mind was swimming. You used to say a member of the army. You used to say you were an orphan, someone without a place to belong. Then, after the incident in the fold, you were welcomed here. You wanted so badly to belong here. The Little Palace was everything you dreamed of. When you walked into a room, you were noticed. When you stood next to General Kirigan, you felt like an equal. You were no longer a nobody. You were a somebody. In the darkness, you reached for his cheek, and with precision you found it.

"I am Grisha" you replied, dragging your thumb across his cheek. Warmth surged through you as your power snaked it's way up to the surface. Your blood rushed in your veins. Every fibre of your being felt alive. You pushed away the darkness, surrounding you and Aleksander in a halo of light.

You pulled away from him and the room dimmed back to normal. His dark eyes focused on you, seeing you as he always had. His gaze was intense as you slowly backed away, your backside nudging the table.

"You're not just Grisha," he murmured stepping into your space. His hand reached up, his ring lightly grazing your cheek as he pushed a strand of hair out of your face. Your eyes fell from his to his lips. The air between you was charged. "You are mine, Starling."

His lips crashed against yours, his stubble tickling your skin. Your hands sunk into his raven hair to pull him closer to you. His large hands slid up your thighs, pushing your robe further up as they hooked behind your knees to lift you onto the table. Your back knocked over multiple little pieces, causing you to chuckle as his lips made their way down your neck to your clavicle. His thumbs drew lazy circles on the inside of your thighs as his lips trailed lower. Landing on his knees in front of you, his lips sucked marks up the soft flesh of your legs, inching the fabric further up.

"Are you scared?" he murmured, looking up from between your legs.

"Of you?" you asked, smoothing a lock of his hair out of his eyes. You thought back to all the moments between you, the pull, the charge, the familiarity of him. There was a crackle between your skin as your atoms grew closer, wanting to bond. You knew it now, you were two halves of the same whole. He was darkness, you were light. You could not exist without each other. Just as you could not know light without dark, you hadn't known yourself until you knew him.

"Starling?" he asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

"No," you admitted. "I'm not."

"Well, Starling, what do you want?" Aleksander asked, his fingers slipping up to hook around the band of your underwear, tugging down gently.

"You," you groaned, your head falling back to look at the ceiling as the cold air hit your skin.

“I might already be on me knees, but I’m still going to make you say please," he smirked, nipping your thigh.

"Please, Aleksander," you breathed, subconsciously opening your legs wider for him. "I want you."

The smug grin that you got in response made you bite your lip. His eyes seemed to get impossibly darker with desire as his hand slid up your chest to push you flat back against the table top. His other hand tugged on the bow keeping your robe closed, letting it fall open. He stood between your legs, taking in how you looked spread out over Ravka. All of it would be his from this moment forth: Ravka and you. The world was at his fingertips.

The anticipation was killing you as he gently dragged his fingertips down the valley of your chest before settling on your hips.

You had to wonder what he thought when he looked at you. Was this love? Or was it simply lust? When two beings such as yourselves existed, was there any other course to take besides falling for each other? When you were the only two beings who could potentially live forever, why would you fall for those who could die when like should end up with like?

"I've waited so long for you," he whispered.

"Then why wait any longer?" you asked breathlessly, propping up on your elbows. You had never felt more bare; more seen.

He tapped his fingers in a cadence on your thigh as one would impatiently tap a table. "You make a good point, Starling."

Reaching up, you grabbed ahold of the lapels of his coat, pulling him down to you. He rested his forehead against yours as your hands smoothed up his chest and over his shoulders to push the fabric off his body. Then, your sure fingers worked his buttons over with determination.

He grabbed your hands, bringing them up to kiss your wrists. The Darkling took over from where you left off, shedding his own shirt and pants until he matched you.

Hooking your heels around his abdomen, you pulled him closer. His hard length bumped against your slick. His eyes closed at the feeling.

Suddenly, it was if something had come over him. One hand gripped your hip as the other cupped the back of your head somewhat roughly to pull you into a kiss.

This kiss was different.

It was rough, passionate, but it wasn't all sunshine and roses. Part of it was frustration. Anger. Disgust at himself for not being able to be the cool, controlled Darkling he was known to be. He blamed you. He blamed himself for becoming undone by you.

You kissed him back with the same ferocity, but opposing emotions. Your kiss was a resignation, an acceptance that this was how the world should be. Your kiss was relief. Your kiss was love and admiration. Your fingers tugged at his hair, making him open his mouth to fight your tongue for dominance. It was a long battle, but you won. You twirled your tongue around his, soothing him. Your breaths mingled as one, a balance. Your breaths were tantric as he pulled your body flush against his.

Unexpectedly, he lifted you, carrying you towards his bedroom.

"What's wrong with where we were?" you asked softly as he placed you on his bed. It was softer than yours.

"I don't want to think of the war while I make love to you," he sighed in your ear. He pulled back to kiss you softly. "I just want it to be you and me. Here. Now."

Lining himself up with your entrance, he took a deep breath. He kissed you again as he entered. He wasn't forceful, but it was still an adjustment. He swallowed your noises of discomfort with his mouth, waiting for you to become accustomed to the feel of him. When you nodded, he started to move.

He started slow, rocking back and forth into you, kissing you as he did. His hand dipped down to push your knee towards your chest to increase the angle. He hit somewhere deep inside you, causing you to gasp. The gasp quickly turned into a moan as he hit the spot again and again. His pace quickened in speed and increased in roughness, but you liked it. Your body had taken worse beatings that left you feeling less pleasure than this before.

Your fingernails dug into his shoulder, looking to ground yourself. Deep within you, your power was surging, giving you energy that you spent on the Darkling. You matched his thrusts.

"Saints," he gasped.

You grabbed his chin, bringing his face back to look at yours. "I am yours. Take me as you want me."

His gaze was unfocused, seeing through you, but he nodded. His hips snapped into yours at a pace that shook the bed. Your hand gripped his hair tightly as he bit your neck, sucking a mark that you knew would be visible.

It was almost on the precipice of being more pain than pleasure. Your body was incredibly hot. A slight sheen of sweat glistened on your skin as you gasped for air from the exertion of it all. Every muscle in your body was pulled taut, like a slingshot ready to fire.

"Let go," he instructed in your ear.

You screamed his name. Your toes curled as a blinding light filled your vision and you saw stars. You saw the light within you, soaring up towards the heat of your inner sun until you could almost touch it.

And then you were falling. Crashing into a pool of cool darkness. The cold washed over your skin and you realized it was Aleksander's release. The darkness quenching the heat of the sun.

He slowed his pace, fucking you both through your orgasm until life came back into focus for both of you. You blinked through your daze until your vision cleared and you were back in the arms of the Darkling, resting on his bed.

The Darkling had lived a thousand lives before you were even born. Part of you wondered how often he had laid with someone like this, wondering how you'd compare to the rest.

He flopped on his back to catch his breath, chuckling as he stared at the canopy of his bed.

"That was...." He turned to look at you, a boyish grin on his face that you recognized as a happiness he never wore. "Worth the wait."

You let out a breathy laugh of your own as you turned onto your stomach. "Good. I'd hate to disappoint."

"You'd never disappoint, Starling." His smile softened as he reached up to hook his thumb under your chin.

Your eyes trailed down his body, looking at his chest and scrutinizing it for the first time. Scars marred his body. "I'm surprised you never had Genya erase those."

"They remind me of what I'm fighting for." He followed your gaze and sighed, the wall of sadness back in place, and also, you realized, grief.

You reached out to take his hand, kissing his palm. "The fight will be over soon."

He held his arm up so that you could tuck into his side. Hugging you into his side, he kissed the top of your head. "One way or another, Starling. One way or another."

#darkling x reader #darkling smut #general kirigan x you #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan smut #aleksander morozova imagine #darkling imagine #general kirigan imagine #sinful sunday

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cruciology · 4 years ago

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Under the Table

Requested by anon: Ok i don’t know if this is too smutty but could I request a sandor x reader where they’re at a tavern or something and reader starts touching him under the table. No one notices but he has to stay serious and tries his best to hide it and as soon as they’re both alone she’s getting her reward.

a sequel to my fic, The Princess and the Dog

The chilly air of Winterfell gave you constant goosebumps. You supposed it was better than being on the King’s Road as you had been for a month, but you were still cold, even with the new fur cloak you had been gifted by your father. You had a feeling it meant he had bad news for you, he just hadn’t told you yet.

You wrapped the cloak tighter around your nightdress as you stepped out of your room and into the hall. Your little sister slept like the dead in the room next to yours. It was only your first night in Winterfell, but you had taken notice of where the guards were placed. It was easy enough to avoid them as you sneaked to the end of the hall, passed where Joffrey and Tommen slept, and rapped on the Hound’s door. After a moment, it cracked open just the slightest bit. When he saw it was you, the Hound quickly pulled you in before anyone could see.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growled, shutting the door as quietly as he could. He had been in bed and wore only his pants, his hairy chest bare.

“I didn’t get caught, it’s alright,” you insisted. You were hoping he would be happier to see you. On the road, you were constantly surrounded by guards or your family. Besides a few squeezes of your hand in passing, you hadn’t felt his touch since you left the capitol. Your mother had kept her promise and hadn’t said anything after she had caught you with him in the library, but she kept a closer eye on you now. “I missed you,” you said softly.

His mouth was a hard line as he looked at you. Finally, he placed his hands on your hips, drawing you close to him. You pressed your face into his chest, almost crying at having him close again after all this time.

“It was stupid,” he said as he held you. You laughed.

“Don’t worry, I know you missed me too,” you said. He sat down on the wooden chair that stood by his window, pulling you by the hand until you sat on his lap. The cloak fell to the floor but you were warm enough when he wrapped his arms around you, his rough hands sliding over the silk of your nightdress.

Finally, you were able to press your lips to his. You kissed him gently first, as a lady should, but then you needed to show him just how much you missed him. Heat pooled between your thighs as you threaded your fingers through his hair, kissing him hungrily. He growled low in his throat as he kissed you back. His hand went under the hem of your nightdress, up your thigh, and you gasped softly as his finger entered you. You hadn’t even had enough space in the last month to touch yourself and his touch felt like magic as he stroked you from the inside.

He kissed your cheek, your jaw, then your neck, sending a chill down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. “How does that feel, Princess?” He asked against the shell of your ear.

“So good,” You muttered back, eyes closed.

You felt him start to remove his hand and squeezed your thighs tight in an attempt to keep him going. He laughed slightly as he brought his hand to his face. He licked you off of his fingers, groaning softly and sending another surge of heat through your body.

He kissed you roughly, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “You taste so fucking good,” He said against your mouth. He gathered you up in his arms with ease, moving to take you to the bed.

Someone pounded on the door with a heavy hand. In an instant, you were on the bed, the Hound quickly covering you with the thick blanket. Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to the Hound open the door once again. It nearly froze when you heard your father’s voice in the hall.

“Didn’t wake you, did I, Clegane?” He laughed. He was drunk, it was clear from his slurred words. The welcome feast ended hours ago. He must have stayed up drinking with his old friends.

“Wasn’t sleeping, Your Grace,” The Hound spoke to your father with your taste still on his lips. “What can I do for you?”

“Put some clothes on, Hound, we’re going on a hunt,” The King said. You could hear him clap the Hound on the shoulder roughly.

“It’s well past midnight, Your Grace,” The Hound informed him.

“What are you, my wife?” Your father said. “I am your king!”

“Why don’t you retire to your chambers, I’ll get you more wine,” The Hound suggested. He knew your father well. He wouldn’t say no to more alcohol.

“Wine and a girl,” The King laughed. Your lip curled in disgust, but if it got him away from the Hound’s room without him seeing you in the bed, you didn’t care what your father did.

“Wine and a girl,” the Hound confirmed.

“Get one for yourself while you’re at it.” You heard your father stumble away. For a brief moment you wondered if you should worry about him, but there were dozens of other guards along the way who would help him back up to his room. He would most likely be asleep before the Hound could find him again.

You felt the blanket fly off of you as soon as the door was closed. “Go back to your room,” The Hound instructed. “Now.”

You stood up, not even coming to his shoulder. You reached up, touching the burnt side of his face, letting your fingers memorize the scar. His eyes closed just briefly. He put his hand over yours. You stood on your toes, kissing him gently before sneaking out again.

---

You never really drank. But after the news you had gotten, you decided now was as good a time as any. Your body wasn’t quite used to it, only having previously had a few sips here and there. As the residents of Winterfell were once again crammed into the dining hall, you nursed your third glass, feeling the warmth spread in your chest. Everyone was pleasantly drunk around you, save for the severe Ned Stark and his lady wife, so you didn’t feel left out despite sitting off on your own at a table near the exit.

You stared at the table where your newly announced betrothed sat. Robb Stark was handsome, strong, and kind. He had lands and a title. You would be the Lady of Winterfell. You had known this was coming, but it didn’t mean you had to like it. Your mother didn’t even try to hide the smug look on her face when your father broke the news to you earlier. You suspected it was directed at your guard who had been in the room as well, something you were sure she had planned. Your mother would get what she wanted after all.

“Princess,” You heard from behind you. Your heart lifted instantly.

“Sit,” You insisted, patting the seat next to you. The Hound’s eyes scanned the room and you rolled yours. “It’s not unheard of. You’re supposed to be guarding me, you can guard me from down here.”

“You’re drunk,” He noted as he sat next to you. You felt the bench creek under his large body. You wished that you were alone so he could pull you into his lap. You were so tired of not even being able to hold his hand.

“I might be,” you said.

“You are.” He grabbed a pint for himself, taking it halfway down with one solid gulp. “Celebrating your engagement, Princess?”

“Stop it,” you said with a tight jaw. “You know I’d rather-,”

“Be quiet about that,” The Hound said, his eyes darting around the room once again. A few eyes were on you, but they were passing glances, folks wondering why the Princess was off alone, but you knew they were not going to question your choice of company.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “But you can’t be upset with me, I can’t take that along with everything else. It’s not my fault.”

The Hound made a noise half way between a grunt and a sigh, but still didn’t look at you. “I know,” he said.

Your hand found his knee comfortingly under the table. It was probably the wine in your stomach that made you unafraid of any consequences. You were surprised he didn’t pull away, but he let you leave your hand there. You were feeling sad and stupid. You moved your hand up further, touching the inside of his thigh. The growl from his throat didn’t stop you. So long without touching him for fear of being caught and here you were now with your hand in his lap when the dining hall was full of eyes.

“Princess,” he said through clenched teeth. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He was trying not to draw attention. Just drunk enough not to care, you moved your hand even further. His breath came out as a hiss as you palmed the growing bulge in his pants. His massive hand clamped around your wrist.

“No one is even looking,” you said, not really caring if they were.

“Are you trying to lose me my head?” He asked. You noticed that he hadn’t moved your hand away from him. You squeezed him, making him groan. “Fucking hells,” he muttered, placing both hands on the table. He wasn’t going to stop you.

You made sure you weren’t looking directly at him as you stroked your hand up and down his length through his pants. You watched his hand on the table clench into a fist as he tried to keep a straight face. “It’s a lovely feast, isn’t it?” You asked, a wicked smirk playing at your lips. He merely grunted. The wine and the thrill of touching him once again made you forget for a moment the pressure you had felt since the news of your engagement.

“But I do think I have had a bit too much to drink,” You said, loudly enough for anyone at the tables near you to hear. Luckily, they were drunker than you. “Walk me back to my room, please.”

The Hound rose first, helping you balance yourself. You really did have a bit too much to drink. He let you go as soon as he thought you would be able to stand. You looked over your shoulder for just a moment, catching a glance at your mother. She sipped her wine next to your father, who was probably the drunkest one in the room. No one would say anything to the King about his drinking. Your mother caught your look but said nothing. She knew who your father would believe if you went to him with what you knew.

The Hound walked a few steps behind you as you walked out of the hall. The voices from the dining hall carried out into the corridor. As soon as you turned the corner, far enough away from the crowd, his hands were on you. You giggled drunkenly as he scooped you up.

“You’re going to get me in trouble, Princess,” he said into your neck, placing a sloppy kiss on the column of your throat. He shouldered the nearest door open. You should have been more worried about getting caught but the only thoughts swimming through the alcohol in your brain were about the Hound’s mouth.

The room was empty and almost pitch black, the only light coming from the full moon outside. The Hound sat you down on the plush loveseat pushed against the wall. You grabbed his belt, attempting to pull him towards you and finish what you had started in the dining hall but it appeared he had other plans. He pushed your hand away.

“Your turn, Princess.”

He lowered himself to his knees in front of you, giving you a breathless kiss, his massive hand cupping your cheek. Leaving your head spinning, he pulled away. He shoved your skirt up, gathering it at your thighs. He pulled you down to the edge of the seat, spreading your legs before him. He placed your legs over his broad shoulders, the metal of his armor cool on your flushed skin. From the wine or from him, you couldn’t be entirely sure.

He bit the inside of your thigh, placing a kiss over it just as quickly. You were just about to tell him not to tease you when you felt his tongue at your apex. Your hands went to his hair, your head going back against the love seat. It had been so long since he could have you like this, he lapped at your pussy hungrily, his fingers digging into your thighs in a way you knew would leave a bruise. That made it even sweeter.

“Sandor, please,” You begged, tugging at his hair, trying to pull him up to kiss you again. You weren’t sure how much time you had with him and you wanted to feel all of him before you had to part. Normally, he would tell you he was going to take his bloody time, but he was probably thinking the same as you.

The Hound wrapped his arm around your waist, moving you to lay with your head on the armrest of the loveseat, his body looming over you. He was always afraid to put his whole weight on you, but you liked feeling his presence. You helped him pull himself out of his pants and with one quick thrust, he was fully seated inside of you. He paused for a moment, his face in the crook of your neck. You guided his face back to yours, kissing him. You wrapped your legs around him, making sure he was as close as he could be to you. He rutted into you, each thrust punctuated with a grunt. He kissed your neck, your cheek, your collarbone, your mouth, any bit of you he could. His thumb found its way to your clit, finishing what his tongue had started. Your legs squeezed him tighter. You tried to stay quiet, but his free hand still went over your mouth, muffling the cry as you came, your legs tight around him.

He took his hand from your mouth, placing it on the loveseat next to you to brace himself. His other hand moved to the small of your back, pushing you closer to him as he fucked you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in to whisper in his ear, “Cum in me.”

The hand on your back moved to your outer thigh, squeezing tight as he shuddered, finishing into you with a final grunt. He hid his face in your neck, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“Stupid, that was stupid,” The Hound muttered into your skin.

You pulled his face towards you, making sure his eyes met yours. “I love you,” you said firmly. His eyes darted away again. You had said it only once before to him. He never said it back, it wasn’t his way.

Instead, he kissed you and responded, “Aye.”

#I am so sorry I haven't posted in 5ever #I had a lot going on but here y'all go #the hound #the hound fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #smut #fanfiction #sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #the hound x reader #sandor clegane fanfiction

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midnightswithdearkatytspb · 4 years ago

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VelvetCardiganBucky’s Recommendations 2021: Week 12 & 13 | March 14th – March 27th

Welcome to weeks 12 & 13 of my recommendations, if you would like to be featured on a future list, I follow the hashtag #VelvetCardiganBucky, message me, tag me in your future works, or reblog this post and link to your story, one-shot, Masterlist, writing challenge, etc.

Be aware some if not most stories and writers on this list are meant to be consumed by an audience of those 18+. My blog is also an 18+ blog.

✨Page breaks are made @firefly-graphics✨

«Last Week

Week 14»

My Masterlist

My Fic Rec List of Mafia/Mob Bucky/Sebastian & Steve/Chris/Andy

Stuff I Posted This Week:

Steve + Bey = 4Ever » Steve Rogers and Bey carved places in each other’s hearts, that no one else could ever replace.

I Hear A Symphony » Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Reader — Reader plays an important song to her for Bucky.

—Formerly The Winter Soldier » “I’m no longer the winter soldier, my name is James Bucky Barnes & you're part of my effort to make amends.”

Lee Bodecker

(Mini) Series:

*Give In by @not-a-great-writer » soft!dark!Lee Bodecker x shy!Reader — She didn’t think she was anything special. So when the intimidating Sheriff takes an interest in her, she can’t help but feel a little unsettled. Her boring life is about to get a little interesting. | This story has to be one of my all time series I’ve ever read, and I know I will weep when it’s over. The chapters are decently sized, you have angst, fluff and smut. I couldn’t ask for more, it’s simply a masterpiece.

Deadbeat Pt. 9 by @the-witty-pen-name » Lee Bodecker x F!Reader — You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room. | Cole thank you for feeding my current Lee Bodecker obsession after I watched The Devil All The Time, for the time. This story is good and I love soft!Lee, and one where no one dies. At least I hope no one dies...

SamBucky

One-Shots:

Loving You Is Cherry Pie by @river-soul » Sam Wilson x Reader x Bucky Barnes — When Sam Wilson, one of your regulars at the cafe finally asks you out, you’re ecstatic until he tells you he wants his friend to join. When you meet Bucky, you decide it might be worth your while after all. [Allusions to stalking, exhibitionism and explicit sex, 18+] | There is just not enough SamBuck stories out there and we have @river-soul to thank for feeding our love for the boys and giving us some good smut, especially to tide us over till Friday.

Nothing Good Happens After 2 AM by @callmeluna » Sam Wilson x Reader x Bucky Barnes — You are admittedly a handful when you’ve had a few drinks in you. Luckily, your partners Sam and Bucky are more than up for the challenge… maybe. | If you are looking for something to make you laugh, might I suggest reading this? The whole time as I read this I couldn’t get the huge smile off my face, it was that good.

Bucky Barnes

Drabbles:

Matching by @heli0s-writes » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Reader and Bucky are “matchy matchy,” with their belly button rings. | This is adorable as well as very funny.

One-Shots:

Smooth Criminal by @bestofbucky » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Based on a dream @velvetcardiganbucky had. You’re parents told you to never give rides to strangers, but when you notice Bucky Barnes trying to break into your car, you know some strangers aren’t so bad. | Jenny did my dream justice! I honestly couldn’t have asked for anything better.

Don’t Over Do It by @whisperlullaby » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your boyfriend is an asshole. Bucky reminds you that you are perfect the way you are. | I can’t describe this anyway other than perfect, that I wish I had a Bucky like this there for me. Trust me you’ll love the ending.

Coming Home to You by @angrythingstarlight » Biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your Biker boyfriend is finally home and he’s going to show you how much he missed you. With every inch he has. And you’re going to remember how much he loves you. | It’s not very often you read something that has an alternate ending and when you do you find yourself loving both endings. Both endings are hot, the smut is great, again who couldn’t love Biker!Bucky?

Won’t Let You Go by @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay » Mob!Bucky Barnes x OFC!Kori — Kori met Bucky in one of his clubs, out to get shit-faced with a couple of friends to forget about her worries and maybe take home a guy to further rid herself of her numerous frustrations. Little did she know that the one-night stand with Bucky would turn into so much more than that. | Thank you so much for entering my writing challenge, it means so much. This one-shot is so good, it hit me right the feels and left me falling in love with Kori and Bucky.

Show Me How To Ride by @angrythingstarlight » Beefy Biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader — You’ve been keeping a secret from your biker boyfriend. He is going to get the information out of you one way or the other. | It’s hot and it makes you realize just how much you realize just how much you love Biker!Bucky.

Bubble Baths by @floatingpetals » Bucky Barnes x Reader (Modern AU) — Even your boyfriend Bucky, needs to wind down at the end of a stressful with a bubble bath, but he doesn’t want to do it alone. | Okay, so my summary of this sucks but let me just say this is fluffy and smutty all at once. I wish I had Bucky to take a bubbly bath with.

Bad Boy!Bucky Barnes x Shy!Reader by @gagmebucky — in which there’s nowhere to sit and bucky offers his lap—then, subsequently, his cock. (bad boy!bucky x shy!reader, dirty talk, exhibitionism and voyeurism, cockwarming, unprotected sex.) | *chugs water* yeah is it a little hot in here? I probably would have failed class if Bucky had been in my class along with Steve, I wouldn’t have known who to stare at, forget learning the material.

**Greater Good by @fuel-joy » Bucky Barnes x Reader — There is a cure for the zombie outbreak but is it worth the cost. | Grab your tissues, because you are going to need them. Thanks darling for entering my writing challenge and making me feel so many feels with this one.

(Mini) Series:

A Tender Heart ♥️ Pt. 2 by @river-soul » Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader — You’ve been sweet on Bucky since you started working at the compound six months ago. Normally quiet and mild mannered, an unexpired fight with a coworker brings Bucky into your orbit. [A/B/O dynamics, brief mention of bullying and fluff] | If anyone can pull at your heartstrings it’s @river-soul making the beginning of this series look so promising and I can’t wait to see where it goes.

Run To You 🪙 Pt. 10 🪙 Pt. 11 🪙 Pt. 12 by @bestofbucky » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Bodyguard!Reader — Mob boss Bucky Barnes hires you to be his bodyguard. | Jenny left me at the edge of my seat, making this such an amazing story, I always look forward to her updates, and so sad that there is only 1 chapter left.

Better than Working sequel to This by @angrythingstarlight » Beefy Biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Beefy Biker Bucky shows you all the benefits of working from home. In fact what he has for you is so much better than work. | Sometimes you just need to read something hot to lift your spirits, let this do that.

Stucky

One-Shots:

*Tell Me What You Want by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve Rogers x Reader; Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mob boyfriend, is none other than Steve Rogers and he is willing to get you whatever you wanted, all you have to do is ask. And be careful what you ask for because he’s going to give it to you over and over again. | This is so hot that I highly recommend not reading this anywhere out in public. The smut in this is just *chefs kiss*

(Mini) Series:

Miracle Pt. 2 🥀 Pt. 1 by @heavenhatesme » Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader; Soft!Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader — When infertility threatens mankind with extinction and there hasn’t been a baby for almost 18 years, what happens when two certain super soldiers fall for the same woman and accidentally impregnate her? | It’s not tagged as dark, sorry to the writer I tagged it that please forgive me? But I just want to tell everyone heed the tags. I do look forward to reading what happens next. The smut in this is great!

Invisible Ink by @navybrat817 » Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers — The owners of the Howling Commandos Tattoo Parlor want to make you their best girl. | I love the idea of tattoo’d Bucky and Steve, but that's because I have a weakness for tattoo’s. So this series is just right up my alley, and the start of it is so good that I know it’s good to be a great one!

Steve Rogers

Drabbles:

Chocolate Milk & Dino Nuggets by @nony-bear » Steve Rogers x Reader — Daddy Steve helps make his little girl feel better after a long week. DDLG THEMES | Had me wishing I had a Steve to make me Dino nuggets after a long day at work. It’s precious folks.

Prompt 4K Drabble Challenge by @sweeterthanthis » Steve Rogers x Reader — “Show me how deep you can take it.” | You’re going to need an ice cold bath after this one.

One-Shots:

A Cruel Tide by @writerwrites » Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader — A lost hero thinks she needs saving, but this divorcée’s needs were different, fleeting, and then full of attachment. Can they overcome the burdens on their shoulders and keep their word? | Sometimes you want to wrap the reader and Steve in a blanket and protect them while enjoying the smut. This gave me that and more.

Untitled Request by @navybrat817 » Steve Rogers x Reader — Sending Steve a naughty photo while he’s in a meeting leads to punishment that will remind you to never do it again, right? | Hi, I’m just going to drench myself in ice cold water. ✌🏻

(Mini) Series:

*Control Pt. 3 🔐 Pt. 1 🔐 Pt. 2 by @river-soul » dark!Steve Rogers x Reader — When a probationary agent asks you out on a date you learn Steve’s intentions for you have evolved. He doesn’t take kindly to someone touching what’s his. [Noncon, physical violence (biting), grooming behavior and explicit sex, 18+] | Definitely one of my favorite series to read on Tumblr so far, you know it’s dark, and the smut is great. I always look forward to the updates on this one.

*Lipstick and Crayons 🖍 Ch. 4 by @oneoftheprettynerds » Dark Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader — Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob. | This story always gets my heart a racing and leaves you with questions as to what is going to happen next. I truly love it and Soft!Dad while being Angry!Mob boss Steve all at the same time, this story just has it all for me.

This Is My Unbecoming by @river-soul » Werewolf!Steve Rogers x Witch!Reader — When the Hydra pack graduates from turning humans to swell their ranks to kidnapping and murdering witches to consolidate power, Steve knows he needs to strike. He makes a deal with a powerful coven leader for a witch of his own in exchange for destroying the rogue pack. [Magical realism, biting, blood, slightly dubious consent and explicit sex, 18+] | Okay this is so good and I would like to thank the teenage mind of @river-soul for creating this! Like seriously thank you. I look forward to reading more!

It’s been a long, long time ☕️ Ch.1 by @mostly-marvel-musings » Steve Rogers x Reader — Steve Rogers – a man who has lost too much finds himself blending into the crowd in attempts to forget his past but revisits familiar places and spends days sketching his heart out. A rainy evening leads him to find shelter in your coffee shop. Is having meaningful conversations over endless cups of coffee with a stranger the key to unlocking a heart that’s lost the will to love? | The prologue tore my heart out, it truly did but the first chapter just puts the pieces back together. I really love this and I’m honestly looking forward to reading what happens next. I can’t thank you enough for entering my writing challenge!

*Not A Team Part: 1 by @shedobewritingalittle » Steve Rogers x Reader — The Reader tries to live a normal life, but her memories won’t leave her alone. Rhodey comes to visit the reader with a proposition. | There aren't a lot of stories out there that have walk on parts with Rhodey in it and I didn’t know how much I missed out on having him in stories till I read this. This was just so well written and the characterization of Rhodey was perfect, how Peyton got the emotions written across, it’s perfect. Read this and have some tissues on hand. I will always love it.

Andy Barber

One-Shots:

Closing Arguments by @river-soul » Andy Barber x Reader — Andy and you are going out for the first time since your daughter’s birth. Anxious about leaving her behind Andy does his best to make you feel better. [Fluff with explicit sex (f recieving), 18+] | So fluffy and sweet!

Keep the Heat by @ozarkthedog » Andy Barber x Reader — Andy fucks you in the coat. | Semi-Short and the smut is oh so good.

(Mini) Series:

Homebound 🏡 Ch. 1 by @fuel-joy » Dark!Andy Barber x Reader — You witness your neighbor kill his wife. You try to gather evidence all from the comfort of your home. | Prepare to be at the edge of your seat with this one, it’s just that good.

One Night by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor » Dark!Andy Barber x Reader — One night changes your entire life. | This is dark and exciting, with tons of angst in it. I love a real good dark!Andy fic and this is it.

Chris Evans

One-Shots:

Mirrors by @cherrychris » Chris Evans x Reader — “wanna know what i see? me owning you and this sweet little pussy” | Sometimes you read things that just blow your mind and this was one of those things.

*Work Party by @harrylovex » Chris Evans x Reader — you get drunk at a work party and chris looks after you… | This is really adorable and probably one of my favorite fluffy Chris Evans one-shots I’ve ever read.

Misc.

One-Shots:

An Act of Kindness by @stargazingfangirl18 » Jake Jensen x Female!Reader — A simple act of kindness seals your fate. | I would like to simply start of by saying that this was my first Jake Jensen fanfiction in years, or maybe my first one, and all I could was where have I been hiding from him? So good and glad I read this and so will you!

*Come Back Safe by @celestialbarnes » Sam Wilson x Reader — based on tfatws, you find out sam’s leaving for a mission, afraid to lose the man you love, you confront him, and he promises you to come back. | So fluffy you’ll want to cuddle it under a blanket fort and wish under a thousand starry night skies for it to come true.

(Mini) Series:

Fiery Friends Pt. 3 🔥 Pt. 4 by @wanderinglunarnights » Johnny Storm x OFC!Sophia Jones — Johnny invites his best friend Sophia to stay with him in his penthouse during quarantine. | I really like this story, because I find myself mentally rooting for Sophia and Johnny, also going you go girl. Looking forward to what is next for this duo.

Ensnared Pt. 2 🔗 Pt. 1 by @stargazingfangirl18 » Ransom Drysdale x Female!Reader; minor Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Reader — Robert preps you for the handoff to the smooth talking stranger who bought you, but before he lets you go, he wants to have a little fun first. | So good and hot. Honestly I look forward to hopefully finding out what happens between the reader and Ransom.

Made With Love by @ayybtch » Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader + Friends to Lovers — Wanda is an excellent cook but a terrible baker. A rough day leads her to the bakery in the Avengers compound where she meets you, the lead baker. After a dismal attempt at making chocolate chip cookies, you volunteer to help Wanda learn how to bake. Your friendship grows stronger with each successful recipe until the two of you stumble into something even sweeter than baked goods. | This story will constantly have you smiling, sure it’s only 3 chapters so far, but I started off reading it in a bad mood but by the 3rd chapter I was just so sappy and happy. I can’t wait for more!

Without Me by CuttingMyFingersOff » Legolas x OFC!Braigeth — Braigeth was an elf who has nothing but memories of Legolas to help her survive being imprisoned in the walls of Orthanc. That is, until she is able to escape and reunite with him. | I’ve been invested in this since my friend came forward to me with the idea for this story and now that it’s being written, I couldn’t be more excited to read it. I need more Lord of the Rings in my life if I’m being honest.

Forever and Ever More by @syntheticavenger » Dark Alpha!Ransom Drysdale x Omega!Reader — Ransom Drysdale may be Boston’s most eligible Alpha but he has his eyes set on you. With his inheritance hanging in the balance, he won’t take no for an answer, whether you like him or not. | Prepared to go on a Hawaiian EMOTIONAL roller coaster with this story, there are so many times in this story you find yourself picking your jaw up off the floor. I’ve linked you to chapter 9, which has all the previous chapters, listed.

Is A Shout Out To My...

@bluemusickid in celebration of 700 followers is hosting a Holi Celebration Writing Challenge, that is due April 30th, but extension can be given. Any Marvel or MCU characters can be used in addition to Chris Evans and his characters. The theme is Holi and its colors, for better explanation visit the link provided.

@whisperlullaby in celebration of 700 followers is hosting a 700 Followers Challenge, your entries will be due May 5th. The theme is kinks, no RPF, DDLG/MMLG, bathroom related , incest, or under age kinks. This is MCU characters, Sebastian Stan, and Chris Evans characters x OFC or Reader. For more information visit the link provided. Congrats Becca on the 700 followers you deserve it hun!

@stargazingfangirl18 in celebration of 5K followers is hosting a Soft Dark Writing Challenge, which is due May 31st. Don’t let the name fool you, your writing can be soft, dark, or soft!dark, or headcanons about any Chris character. 500 word minimum with no max, but new or be read as a stand alone piece. For more information visit the link provided and be sure to congratulate Siri on her 5K milestone!

@cloudystevie in celebration of 4K followers is hosting a Mob!AU Writing Challenge, that is due on May 30th. You can use Chris Evans and any of his characters he’s played before, as well as make it NSFW or SFW. To learn more about it please visit the link below. Also congratulations Jasmeen on the 4K followers! 💗

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theneighborhoodpunk · 9 months ago

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I was 16 years old when Greg and Sara moved into the house across the street from us. They were a young married couple, mid to late 20s that were starting their little family. Sara was a school teacher with a (at the time) massive baby bump that all the women in the neighborhood loved to fawn over. Greg was a steel worker by trade, real salt of the Earth kind of guy. He would often hang out in the garage with the door open, a cold beer in his hand, fat stogie in his mouth, and a friendly disposition to anyone who he saw. Most of the families on our cul-de-sac were getting up there in age, all of the kids in the neighborhood and grown up and moved out, save for me. Everyone seemed happy to have new life in the area, and you would often find the ladies in the kitchen with Sara while the men frequently stopped by the garage on their way home from work to shoot the shit with Greg and have a beer.

In truth, Greg intimidated the hell out of me. I didn't really understand why, he was always nice enough whenever I saw him. I had grown up with older brothers and was on the baseball team at school, so it's not like I wasn't used to being around macho guys or anything. Something about the way he looked at me just made me feel kind of funny. I never really understood why until one night in my senior year.

I had been at a party with the guys from the team, and someone dropped me off in front of the house late, probably around 1 AM. We thought we were being slick so I could sneak inside, drunk as I was, but I don't know how successful we were in that regard. As I watched my friends speed away, I could hear Greg chuckle from across the street.

"Have a good night there, bud?" He was still up, fiddling away on his phone and keeping a patrol of the area. His light was the only one still on on the street.

I shrugged, not really wanting to get trapped in a conversation. I didn't want to risk my parents seeing me sneak in so late at night. "I don't have any complaints."

He laughed again, taking a big puff of his cigar as he did. "I bet, based on the way your wobbling there." I didn't think I was wobbling that bad, but it was my buddy's 18th birthday, so we were drinking a little more than normal. "Why don't you come in here and have a beer with me? Give your folks a chance to go back to sleep so maybe they won't hear you when you stumble in."

Who am I to turn down a free beer? I made my way over to his house as he got up, went to his fridge just a few feet away, and grabbed a couple beers. He handed me one as I got into the garage, and I thanked him as he motioned for me to have a seat across from him. He cracked his drink open with a smile, stogie still perched in his grin. I got that weird feeling again. "You boys tear up the town tonight?"

I took a swig of my beer, enjoying the taste. Much better than the cheap shit that we had shelled out for, that's for sure. "I don't know about that. Went down to this old field off of '74, it's pretty quiet. Just a bunch of guys from the team and a few other people. It was a good time."

He nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I remember being your age. Drinking whatever you could get, wherever you could get. Good times. 'Course, there's something to be said about not having to hide anymore." He said a laugh.

I nodded, then looked over to my house. "About that. Do you think we could shut the door? I don't want my parents to look out the window and see me over here at this time of night."

He laughed and got up and made his way to the door button, pressing it to close us up in the garage. "Sure thing. But you shouldn't worry about your parent's so much. Sheila will probably just be glad to know you're safe, and Mike's been over here plenty of times. Hell, he might even come over and join us!"

The thought of openly sharing a beer with my dad was a good one, but I don't know how well that would go over. "You think? I dunno, he likes his sleep. He gets pretty pissed off when me or my brothers used to wake him up from coming in late."

"Well that's just because you woke him up, stupid." He laughed even harder at his own joke now that we were covered up, or maybe it was just louder in general. The garage was quickly filling up with smoke now that the door was shut, but I couldn't tell if it was because he was puffing on it more aggressively or if it was just that small of a place. "Trust me, I know your old man pretty well. There's a couple of things he loves more than anything, it's a cold beer and you boys. Throw in a nice cigar? He'd be here quick."

I smiled at him, although it was hard to believe. Yeah, I knew my dad loved me and all, but enough to where his neighbor would know that much? Plus, I'd only seen my dad smoke a handful of times. Then again, I guess I never really came over here with him or anything. I thought it would be best to change the subject. "What are you doing up so late anyway?"

He sighed. "What? I'm some old fart that's got to be in bed by 10pm?" He took another drink and looked wistfully at his phone. "In truth, I was on the apps. Seeing if there was anyone around that might want to come...hang out, if you know what I mean."

The apps? Was he really saying what I thought he was? As if to answer my confusion, he continued. "Hey, first rule of the garage: no judgment here, man. A man has needs. You knock up a woman a few times as see how often she wants to suck your cock then." He looked me straight in the eyes, as if daring me to say something in defiance.

I didn't know what to say, at least in judgement. I was confused and more than a bit curious, that much was true. "So what, you just have girls over here when everyone's asleep?"

"I didn't say girls." I imagine the shock on my face said it all. He leaned over his knees and took a long drag of his cigar. "Not really cheating if it's with a faggot, right?"

I wasn't sure about the logic there, but I was too drunk and stunned to protest. "I guess not." At my admittance, he leaned back and placed the cigar back in his mouth, big smile across his face. "So what, you just have...guys over then? You do this a lot?"

He laughed. "I guess I'm pretty popular. Had my share of boys on their knees in front of me here. They especially seem to like it when I have some other guys over, we can pass 'em around like a bitch." He was messing with me, he had to be. I started to smile a bit as I nodded my head, barely keeping along with him. "How about you? You ever have any of your buddies blow you before?" I shook my head, the thought hadn't really crossed my mind. "You ever blown one of you buddies before?"

That kind of woke me up, causing me to shake my head a little more forcefully. He grinned and took a huge puff of his cigar as he started to unbutton his pants. Before I knew it, he had fished out an impressive 8 inch dick from his underwear, stroking it slowly as he looked me in the eyes. "Want to try tonight?"

He blew a cloud of smoke directly at me, and I felt a little dizzy. Between the beer, the stunning revelations, his admittedly large dick and soul piercing stare, I couldn't move. He continued to slowly stroke his cock. "Come on, boy. I've seen the way you look at me. You've wanted this since the day we met. Shit, you probably don't even realize it yet, do you?" I stayed motionless, watching him stoke himself to full mast. "Always looking over here when you think I'm not watching. Your face getting flush whenever I talk to you. I know a faggot when I see one, and you, boy?" He laughed a bit, but deeper, more menacingly. "You want my dick bad. So come on. Come to Daddy."

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thecutestlittlebunbunfairy · 4 years ago

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A Knight in Rusted Armor

summary | He saved you. But when you invite him inside to say thanks, who will save you from him?

warnings | Non con, Dirty Talk, threatening, Spanking, Forced Marriage, Breeding Kink, Daddy Kink (BUT NO DD/LG); 18+, DARK FIC

word count | ~2500 words.

pairings | Lee Bodecker x Reader

A/N | Consume at your own discretion!

~~~

“Goth freak!”

“Dyke!”

“Cunt!”

The boys in this town were harassing you, again. Yes, you preferred darker colored clothes. Yes, you sometimes chose the company of books over people. Yes, you were a little odd. Who wasn’t? But all your life the boys of Knockemstiff, Ohio had given you shit for just being you.

It was a Friday night and you were walking home after your shift at the library. After finishing your library sciences degree at the local college, you’d moved back home and gotten a nice job with enough money to rent a small apartment. Normally you didn’t like walking home this late, but the older other librarian, Gertrude, had to go home so she could baby sit her grandkids. But it got a bit darker earlier this time of year. So, you were walking home alone. And you could hear some of the boys calling after you and were sure they were following you. You tried to walk a little quicker but were never the lightest on your feet. You were really starting to panic when you heard a voice

“Hey! What are you boys doing?” You turned and there in his cruiser was Sheriff Lee Bodecker. You breathed a sigh of relief.

One of the boys, Bradley, tried to play the “high school quarterback” innocence he had played all through high school. “Nothing, sheriff. Just walking (y/n) home.” But the Sherriff wasn’t having it. He got out of his car and walked over to you.

“You alright, darling?” he asked. You nodded, so grateful he’d showed up. He looked over at the boys.

“If it’s alright with you, gentlemen. I’m going to escort this young lady home. And I best not catch you ‘walking her home’ again. Am I clear?” he said, his voice hard as steel.

“Yes, sir, Sheriff.” Bradley said, then quickly retreated with his tail between his legs. He couldn’t risk trouble after his drunk driving arrest last month.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He said. You didn’t know Sherriff Lee Bodecker that well. You knew more OF him than anything. But your dad made had made friends with him; and you knew with an elected position like sheriff, people had to trust him. Plus, and you’d never really noticed before, he was kind of cute. He was a little chubby but honestly, you liked that. He opened the door for you, and you got in the front seat of the warm car.

“Where abouts you living nowadays, still with the folks?” he asked.

“No, actually. My own place.” You directed him to the place and he drove off.

“So, you’re working at the library now, huh? Look at you, all grown up.”

“Yep, but still in the same old town.” You said. The radio started playing “Sweet Caroline” and you hummed along. Lee smiled at you.

“You like this song, darling?”

“Yeah, it’s cute.”

“Just seems a little bubbly. You seemed to wear a lot of black.” He pointed out.

“Well that’s just cause I like black. It’s the color of the night sky.” You countered and he smirked in response.

“Huh, never thought of it that way.” He pulled up at in front of your duplex.

“Sheriff, thank you for what you did back there. Those boys…they’ve always been assholes to me.”

“Hey honey. Don’t even worry about them. I was just getting off shift.”

“Oh, would you like to come in?” You offered “I was going to make up some of my momma’s baked mac and cheese.”

“Oh really? Well in that case, how can I say no?”

He made himself comfortable at the table once you got inside. And you two continued to talk while you cooked.

“So how come you decided to go to college? Don’t most girls only go for their M.R.S’s?’” Lee asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Sheriff, I know this is a small town, but don’t be so small minded. The state school had quite a few girls who all got their degrees. Even a female professor” you smiled, sliding the mac n cheese into the oven to bake. It needed about half an hour so you handed Sheriff a beer while you took a soda for yourself.

“Yeah, maybe I’m just a little old fashioned. Maybe it’s just me. I’m like most fellas, always wanted to find a nice girl, settle down. You know?”

“Yeah a little bit.” You’d never been one for male attention but that didn’t stop you from dreaming about a nice husband. “How come you never did?”

“Oh, got too involved in the job. Now that I’m at a point where I could maybe think about it, I can’t find the right girl.” He gave you a small smile “’Specially not a girl as pretty as you.” He said.

“Thank you, Sheriff. I’m sure you’ll find that girl.” You said with a warm smile.

“I truly hope so. What about you? No fella of your own to cook for?”

“No, I mean…all the boys here in town only ever made fun of me. And I was too focused on studies at the college rather than boys. Now, I don’t know.” You blushed; not sure you should be talking about this kind of thing. But he took your hand.

“No worries sweetheart. You can do lots better than those boys. What you need is a man.” He leaned in closer. “A big, strong man. To take care of you. In every way.” Suddenly his other hand was on your thigh, gently moving up your skirt. You gasped and suddenly pushed your chair back to stand up.

“Sherriff! I don’t…that’s not….” You were completely dumbstruck. He was AT LEAST 10, if not 15 years your senior. Plus, you’d hardly had more than minute long conversation with him before. This wasn’t right. You tried to find your words but he just leaned back in your chair smiling at you.

“Aw, c’mon sweetheart. I can take care of you real nice. Plus, I saw that little look on your face when I showed up. I know you like me, baby. Why don’t you let me show you?” At this, he stood up and you finally found your voice, shaking your head, you replied

“No. No this isn’t what I want. You’re too old for me, Sheriff. And I know nothing about you and vice versa. I appreciate what you did but I would like you to leave, please.” Your voice wavered but the point was clear. Lee shook his head and let out a sigh.

“Just couldn’t make it easy, could you?” he muttered. Before you could question him, he’d pushed you against the wall of the kitchen. Pinning your hands to either side of you. “Too old for you huh? What kinda bullshit is that?” He growled. You struggled against him, but he was too strong. “You NEED an older guy. A real man to treat you how you deserve to be treated.” He leaned in closer. “Or to punish you when you get out of line.” And like that, his lips were pressed against yours. You didn’t want to give in but when he bit your lip, your yelp had given his tongue access to your mouth. He tasted faintly like whiskey and cigarette smoke. He pulled away, grinning.

“Damn doll. I wonder if the rest of you is as sweet as your mouth.” You struggled again as tears ran down your cheeks.

“Please…Please don’t do this. You can just leave. I’ll never say anything.” You begged but Lee pressed himself against you and under that soft gut of his you felt his hard cock pressing against you.

“I know you won’t say anything. Cause I’ll have you begging for more. Now, why don’t you be a good girl and show me your room?” You shook your head, still trying to think of a way out of this. Lee narrowed his eyes.

“I’d reconsider darling. See, if you be a good girl, I can make this nice and easy for you.” He squeezed your wrists tighter. “Or, I can make this hurt…a lot…now do you wanna be my good girl?” Too scared of the consequences if you said no, you weakly nodded and he lessened his grip. “Good girl.” He placed another kiss to your lips and let go of one of you, letting you lead him to your room. Once there, he sat down on your bed.

“Why don’t you strip for me, babygirl?” He said, his gaze making you already feel naked. Slowly you reached behind you to pull down the zipper but Lee held up his hand. “C’mere.” He pointed between his legs and you stood in front of him. He put his hands on your hips and turned you around. Then, his hands slowly up your arms and one of his hands pulled the zipper of your dress. He pushed your dress down and let it pool around you.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy darling. Come lay down on the bed.” You crawled on the bed and his hand grabbed your ass, hard. “So…fucking…sexy.” He growled, then let go. You lay down and he stood up, slowly undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. And that slight desire that had been forming since you laid eyes on him bubbled up in a single lip bite as your eyes moved over his soft body. And he saw it.

“Aw darling. I knew you thought I was sexy. A little soft in the middle, but I’m still the big strong man you need to take care of you.” He undid his pants, letting them drop, showing his boxer briefs and the outline of a thick cock. Then, he slowly pulled down the briefs, exposing his cock and your mouth opened in surprise. Your roommate in college, Catherine, had snuck in a few erotic magazines, but something about Lee was different. He wasn’t as long as some of the men in those magazines but he was certainly thick. He stroked it a few times before crawling onto the bed

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make sure to go nice and gentle…at first.” Something about that renewed the panic in you and you started to sit up, but Lee climbed on top of you and after struggling a bit with you, managed to flip you over onto your stomach, pinning you down.

“None of that. Now you promised you’d behave.” He growled. Then, he gave a harsh smack to your ass. You whimpered and felt tears running down your cheeks. But he leaned over and kissed them away. “Shhhh…it’s okay baby. I’mma be so good to you. Just spread your legs a little.”

Still terrified of the consequences, you did as he asked. He pulled your panties down slowly, and you looked back to see him grinning like a kid on Christmas.

“Fuck babygirl. I think you’ve been lying to me…” he said, and you felt one of his fingers start to push in. “Cause this pussy is soooo wet for me.” Another finger in you had you gripping the sheets. “I think…you want me to fuck this little pussy. Don’t you?” His fingers rubbed right over g-spot and you let out a low moan. “C’mon sweetie. Just tell Daddy want you want.” That word…you’d heard of girls calling their boyfriends and husbands daddy before…but you never knew how you felt about it. But now, with Lee’s fingers inside you, you stuttered out.

“I…I want it…daddy.” Your voice was so low that you were sure he didn’t hear you. But the grin on his face told you he had.

“Want what, honey?” Now along with his fingers in you, his thumb brushed over your clit, making you push your hips back.

“Want…your cock daddy.” He pulled his fingers away and you whimpered at the loss. But he leaned over you and you felt his cock against you.

“Fuuuuuck…baby girl.” He pulled out before pushing back in again. “You’re so fucking perfect.” In and out. Again. “So wet and warm for…” he reached down and grabbed your hair, pulling your head back. “Me. And you’re all mine.” He picked up his thrusts and you couldn’t help yourself. It hurt but, in the best way. You didn’t want to like it but Lee reached his hand down around your waist and rubbed at your clit. He kept kissing your neck and shoulders and whispering sweet nothings to you. Your body and mind were fighting and your mind was giving way.

“Fuck baby girl. You feel so good…so good for daddy. You wanna cum all over my cock don’t you?”

“Uh huh…” you moaned, not able to form coherent thoughts as the pleasure built and built.

“Well, I’ll let you cum…but you’re mine afterwards…understand?” He growled. You nodded mindlessly, not caring what you were agreeing to, just needed to cum. “Such a good girl.” He said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“And pretty soon baby, you won’t be the only one calling me daddy.” He said, rubbing his hand over your stomach. The gasp that tried to escape your lips was lost as he thrust his cock deep in you, picking up speed and driving you into climax. You saw stars as you clenched down on him and came harder than you ever had before. And your release triggered his and you felt him filling you up. He kept fucking you through his orgasm until he finally stilled. He stayed there a moment before slowly pull his cock out. You turned around and his eyes were wide.

“Aw baby, don’t tell me I was your first…” he said and you looked down at his cock. There was a little blood smeared on the sides. You blushed, confirming his suspicions. Before you could say a word, he leaned down and pressed his lips fully against yours, in a tenderness that was a total contrast to what had just had happened. When he broke the kiss, exhaustion finally caught up with you and you collapsed on the bed. You turned your head away, not wanting to look at him, but he pinched your thigh, forcing you to roll over. He lay down next to you.

“Well don’t you worry…Daddy’ll make an honest woman of you.” He said with a wink. Your brain was still reeling from everything that had happened. You must’ve looked confused because Lee continued on. “We’ll have a simple little ceremony. Invite whoever you want. And we’ll make sure to do it before you start showing.”

“Showing?” your voice quivered.

“Of course, sweetie. I told you, someone else will be calling me Daddy. And you’ll make a great Mommy.” He rubbed his hand over your stomach, like he had before.

At that moment, the timer in the kitchen dinged. Lee sat up in bed. “C’mon sweetheart. Something smells really good.” He cupped your pussy and pressed a kiss to your lips. “And I’m already thinking about dessert.”

#Lee Bodecker x Reader #Lee Bodecker #The Devil All the Time #Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan fanfiction

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dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Never Meant To Be Yours

Pairing: Wilbur Soot x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] Wilbur Soot’s heart may belong to you, but yours? Well...

Warnings: some cursing (hi, Tommy) + one scene with slight violence

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: i realized that i hadn’t written a story that was strictly just angst, so... ta-da! this story takes place during the betrayal of l’manberg. inspired by both the events of the smp and also heathers: the musical. remember folks: pog through the pain <3

The campfire crackled and popped as Wilbur tossed another stick into the roaring flames, the embers leaping up and soaring into the starry night sky. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance as Tommy opened his mouth again.

“I’m fucking telling you, Wilbur. Just let me sharpen some sticks and I can win this war for L’Ma—”

Wilbur sighed, reaching over to rip the two branches from Tommy’s hands. “Tommy, if you pick up another set of sticks one more time, I will throw your discs into the fire.”

Tommy gasped, absolutely appalled that he would even suggest it. “Big man, you wouldn’t fucking dare—”

“No,” Tubbo said, smiling as he threw some more kindle into the fire, “I’m pretty sure he would.”

“Oh, he definitely would,” Fundy confirmed, his tail swishing this way and that as he looked on in amusement.

Tommy frowned, snatching another stick from the firewood pile and turning to glare at Wilbur from where he sat on his log. “Fucking fight me for them, you beanie bitch.”

Wilbur stared back, unimpressed and his patience wearing thin. “Tommy,” he said, “I’m not doing this, again.”

“Oh? Are you scared of my sharpness 1000 sti—”

Without even an ounce of hesitation, Wilbur grabbed Tommy by his arms and hoisted him into the air, his feet dangling dangerously close to the campfire. Fundy hooted as Tommy let out a piercing scream, Tubbo watching with wide eyes and a grin on his face as the flames licked at the soles of his shoes. “I swear to fucking god, Tommy,” Wilbur nearly shouted, “I am going to drop you into the fi—”

“You lot seem like you’re having fun.”

Wilbur froze, Tommy practically melting in his arms in relief. “Thank the lord, I’m saved,” he muttered.

You walked over to the group with a small wave and a bashful grin. In an instant, Wilbur had released Tommy, dropping him back onto the log as he walked over to you. The irritation seeped out of his bones as he took in the sight of your face, your eyes glowing in the golden light of the campfire.

“You’re finally here,” he said, leaning over to press a quick peck to your cheek before sitting once more.

You giggled, settling into the space next to him. “Hi.”

Beside you, Tommy made a gagging noise. “Jesus Christ, you guys are actually fucking gross. I would never do some shit like that.”

You gave him a quizzical look. “But Tommy,” you pointed out, “I thought you loved women. Don’t you want to date one, one day?”

“I do love women!” Tommy confirmed. “And I respect them! But you know me, [Y/N].” He patted his chest, smirking with pride. “I’m married to the grind.”

You tilted your head at him, bemused. “Are you, now?”

He nodded with full confidence. “Of course I am!”

“And you didn’t invite me to the wedding?”

Tommy shot you a condescending look. “The grind and I have been married far longer than you and Wilbur have even been together—hell, I’d say we’re a better fucking couple than you two!”

You feigned a gasp and turned to your lover with a dramatic pout. “Hey, Will? Do you hear that? Tommy says his marriage to the grind is better than our relationship.”

Wilbur paused for a moment, blinking, then shrugged. “Well, that’s an easy fix.”

Confusion flashed across Tommy’s face. “How?”

Wilbur stood up and turned to look at you, a serious expression crossing his face. “I suppose we’ll just have to get married.”

You felt your jaw drop, a wave of shock running through you as Tommy sputtered, “Pfft—what the fuck?”

Taking a deep breath, you sighed, rubbing your temples. “Will,” you said, “getting married in the middle of a war doesn’t exactly sound like the best idea you’ve had.”

“But Wilbur never has good ide—”

“Well,” Wilbur said, cutting Tommy off, “how else are we going to beat Tommy and the grind?”

You cocked a brow at him. “Are you implying that are relationship isn’t already stronger than Tommy’s with the grind? That we have to prove it?”

Now it was Wilbur’s turn to sputter. “No, uh, I’m just, um—”

“Will,” you said again, “you realize you have a son that we both care for, right?”

Wilbur paused. “Oh. Right.”

You could see Fundy groan from the other side of the campfire, hanging his head in his hands. “Jeez, thanks, dad.”

Wilbur flashed his son a bright grin. “You’re welcome, son.” He whirled, triumphantly pointing at Tommy’s face. “See? Do you and the grind have a physical representation of your love in the form of another living being?”

Tommy’s face contorted in disgust. “Wilbur, what the fuck, no. I’m a fucking minor.”

The smile dropped from Wilbur’s face like a dead fly. “Oh. Right.”

Tubbo let out a whistle, raising his fist in the air. “Aaand, scene! That’s a point for Tommy!” He shook his head apologetically at the general. “Sorry, Wilbur, but you lose.”

Wilbur looked offended. “How did I lose? [Y/N] and I have a Fundy!”

Tubbo’s expression shifted to something more serious. “Didn’t you know that I’m a lawyer, Wilbur? You don’t mess with the law.”

Fundy let out another groan as Tommy howled in delight. “Oh, no.”

“Big Law is back!”

It didn’t take long for the bickering to start up again, and you found yourself zoning out, simply smiling and nodding every once in a while. A lone crow squawked in the trees above you, and you cast your gaze up at the night sky, watching as the campfire sparks danced and faded into the shadows above. Something stirred deep within your chest.

It really was a lovely night, and you were surrounded by some lovely people, even if they were rather chaotic. With the campfire keeping you warm and their peals of laughter tugging at your lips, you almost felt sad.

Only a few more days remained of this idyllic life. Just a few days more until—

“[Y/N]? Are you okay?”

Wilbur’s worried voice drew you out of your thoughts and you turned to face him, plastering a small smile to your face. “Yep! Just thinking.”

He leaned down to peer closer at you, his gaze scanning your face. “What about?”

You averted your eyes from his, your cheeks dancing with warmth. “About you.”

He grinned and pulled you into his chest, ignoring the way Tommy pretended to choke at the sight. You giggled, your hands wrapped around Wilbur’s arm in return as he held you close.

High above you, the stars winked down at you from the pitch black sky, waiting and watching to see what came next.

Wilbur sighed, staring down at the map on his desk.

Just how was he going to stage an attack on a nation as large as the Dream SMP? Every opening would have been accounted for, and Dream was not a foe to be taken lightly. Even if all of them came in, bows blazing and swords drawn, Dream was still very much capable of taking them on, even by himself. That, he knew, and that was what weighed him down.

He slumped over, dragging a hand over his face. What in the world was he going to do?

A knock sounded at his door, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Knock knock,” you greeted, leaning against the doorframe with a smile. “You doing alright in there?”

Wilbur offered you a tired smile. “Not really, if I’m being honest.”

You stepped inside, slipping into the seat next to his. “What’s going on? Tell me.”

He sighed. “It—It’s just that the odds are so incredibly stacked against us.” His eyes were sad as he stared blankly down at the parchment. “It makes me wonder, is freedom even attainable, or is it just another one of my silly pipe dreams?”

You frowned, reaching over to stroke his face with the back of your hand. “Freedom is more than just a dream, Will. You know that.” You squeezed his shoulder. “Fundy is living proof of that. Your son is living proof of that. He was born in these walls, remember?” Your voice dropped to a whisper, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “He was born free.”

You pulled away from him, sending him a sugary grin. “We can become free, Will. I know you can do it. You’re not alone. You have me. You have us.”

His smiled crookedly at you. “Even Tommy?”

The look in your eyes was kind as you giggled. “Yes, even Tommy. I’m sure of it. Why else would you have made him your right hand man?”

He chuckled, turning his attention away from the map and onto you. “You’re right. You always know how to make me feel better, [Y/N].”

You offered him a small smile. “I try my best.”

The two of you set into a comfortable silence for a moment or two with you watching Wilbur strategically move pieces across the map while he jotted down notes on a slip of paper. It was only after a few minutes had passed when you spoke up once more.

“Hey,” you said softly, reaching over his ink well to slip your hand in his, “I want to show you something that’ll make you feel even better.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, his hand freezing on its quill. “Oh?”

You nodded, smiling sweetly at him. “I’ve been working on it for a little while, and I really think it’ll help us win that freedom of ours.”

He smiled at you, his gaze fond as he stood, setting his quill on the table. “Let me gather the men and I’ll be right there.”

It only took him a few minutes for him to rally everyone together, although he did have to silence Tommy when he let loose a string of curses yelling about his dedication to the grind. In practically no time, the whole battalion stood in front of you, eager to see what you had in store.

“Alright,” Wilbur said, bowing towards you, “lead the way.”

You grinned, jokingly curtsying back before turning on you heel, a skip lining your step as you strode toward a small tree sitting near the edge of the walls. “If you come down here,” you began, sliding down the side of the hill to point behind the tree, “you’ll see that there’s actually a small entranceway here.”

Wilbur’s eyes widened in surprise. There really was a hole in the hill dug out just here. He wondered just when you made it. “How the fuck did you keep this hidden from us?” Tommy muttered, squinting as you led them inside. “You didn’t even try to hide the fucking door.”

You shrugged, still strolling comfortably. “It was pretty out of the way and it faces the wall itself, so you weren’t likely to spot it, anyways. I didn’t really think it was necessary.”

The walls were dark and dank, lit up only be the occasional torch, but even then it was still dim. “This is a long tunnel,” Tubbo murmured after they had been walking for a minute or two, his head swiveling this way and that as he took in his surroundings.

You laughed. “Well, this place was pretty well-hidden, if I do say so myself.” Suddenly, you stopped, turning to look at the rest of the group. “Well, lads, here it is.”

You stepped in and to the side, and Wilbur gasped.

Lying just within the hill was a grand room. Every surface was made of smooth, polished, black bricks, and pale blue lanterns hung from each corner of the room, emitting a faint light that painted the room in an enchanting glow. Chests lined the walls, and in the center of the room sat a single button atop a panel.

Wilbur was floored—he had no idea when you had built all this.

“What is this place?” Fundy asked, his dark eyes wide with awe.

You hummed, tapping a finger on your chin as you strode to the middle of the room. “Well, I guess you could call it a secret base, but I’ve been calling it the final control room.” Something glinted in your eyes. “I spent a lot of time gathering resources and forging weaponry that we can use to fight.” You pointed at each labelled box with delight. “Look—you each have your own chest!”

Wilbur felt his heart swell with pride. Just when he didn’t think you could be any more perfect, you just had to shatter his expectations.

Everyone split apart, each rushing toward their respective chest with anticipation thrumming in their fingertips. Wilbur grinned as he reached his, unlatching the clasp on the front and flipping the lid open to reveal... nothing.

There wasn’t anything in the chest.

Uneasiness seeped into his stomach.

“[Y/N],” he said slowly, turning to look at you, “these chests are empty.”

You still stood in the center of the room, sending him that same sweet smile you always did.

“I know,” you said, lifting your hand to hover over the singular button lying on the control panel.

Something like terror struck his heart.

“[Y/N]?” he whispered.

It was only then that he noticed how cold your eyes were.

“It was never meant to be.”

What came next happened so quickly that Wilbur almost didn’t process it. He watched as your hand slammed down on the button, and a hole in the wall opened up to reveal the Dream SMP, their swords unsheathed and armour polished to shining. Screams rang out all around him, echoing in the tiny chamber of the so-called final control room. He could only watch in horror as his men were slaughtered at his side until a sword pierced his chest as well.

With a pained gasp, he looked up to you as he fell back, disbelief and the pure, utter pain of betrayal sinking into his veins while he coughed for air.

You still wore that saccharine smile of yours, the one he had fallen for long, long ago. Something menacing shone in your eyes.

He wondered how you could still be smiling at a time like this as his world went dark.

Wilbur awoke with a gasp, lurching forward with wide eyes. Panting, his hand flew to his chest, grasping at where he was just stabbed—or had been stabbed. His shoulders sank in relief as his fingertips met unmarred skin and the softness of his shirt, a sigh escaping his lips.

Coming back after death never really got any easier after the first time. He could only wonder what Tommy and Tubbo were going through—they were so young.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Wilbur’s head shot to the side, his eyes briefly noting the fact that he was indeed lying on the bed in his room. On the opposite side of the room, you sat on a wooden chair, a book clutched between your fingertips. Something warm flitted through his chest as his eyes met yours, and he almost felt glad to see you.

Almost.

“What are you doing here?” he spat, a cruelty he had never felt for you before brewing within his gut. “Why are you even here?”

You blinked innocently at him, shutting the book in your hands and setting it on the table next to you. It was the declaration of independence, he noted with disgust. He felt sick knowing that you held it in yours hands, that you even signed it at all.

“I’m keeping you company,” you said casually, as if nothing had happened at all, as if you hadn’t just gotten him killed. “I didn’t want you to be lonely.”

Rage ripped through him, roaring through him like a wildfire. With shoulders shaking with agony, he tore the sheets from off his legs. “‘Didn’t want me to be lonely’?” he parroted mockingly as he stood to his full height. His glare was as cold as ice. “Is this some sick joke to you?”

You tilted your head at him, your mouth remaining a straight line—hard and firm. “Not particularly, no.”

That was when it hit him—when everything came crashing into him all at once.

You had sold them out.

You had abandoned them.

Did you mean anything you ever said to him? Did you ever really love him? Were your kisses ever real? Did his love really mean nothing to you?

“[Y/N],” he breathed, horror wracking his every word, “what have you done?”

You stared at him, your expression blank and unreadable—an impenetrable wall standing between him and your psyche. He hated it. He hated how unreadable you were in this moment, and his anger older burned brighter.

“What were you thinking?” he shouted, his voice growing louder and louder. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, pushing it away from his soot-stained face. “We were going to get married. We—we were going to start a new life together. With Tommy, and Tubbo. Niki. Fundy, my son.” His eyes flashed. “Our son. Whatever happened to that?”

He sank to his knees, suddenly feeling very tired. The fire burned out, and an indescribable sense of sadness flowed in instead, flooding every inch of his being. He felt his eyes begin to water as you simply stared down at him, unfeeling and harsh. His voice cracked.

“[Y/N], why?”

There was no denying what you had done. He had seen it with his own two eyes, had watched a wicked glint creep into your gaze as you pressed the button and vanished.

You were a traitor, through and through, yet he still could not fathom why.

Suddenly, you took a stood, taking a slow and deliberate step toward him. Wilbur’s breath hitched in his throat as he saw you draw closer and closer, his heart pounding in his ears. Even after all that you’d done, after you’d betrayed him, his heart still yearned for you—still ached for you.

Just a step before you reached him, you stopped, crouching down to be level with him. For a moment, you simply stared at him with those eyes—those eyes he loved so, so much. Then, you opened your mouth.

“Wilbur,” you murmured, soft enough only for him to hear. “Oh, my darling, lovely Wilbur.”

Your voice was sickly sweet, dripping like honey that stuck to the roof of his mouth. He swallowed, the tiniest flicker of hope igniting in his heart. Perhaps this was all just some big misunderstanding, some prank that you were pulling on him—you always did love your mischief.

You smiled at him, the glimmer in your eyes wicked and unkind as you stood up. The sun hung just behind you in the sky, framing your face in a heavenly glow.

In another life, you would have looked like an angel.

“I was never meant to be yours.”

His heart shattered.

The tears were now freely streaming down his cheeks, running down like tiny rivers. He half-hoped that he would drown in them, that he would never have to see your beautifully wretched face again for as long as he lived.

Bending over, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, pulling away just a second later after gently patting his head. The spot where your lips met his skin burned, and he hated himself for wishing you would stay.

You strode over to the door, swinging it open with one last glance over your shoulder and an empty half-smile. “Goodbye, Will.”

The door closed. Wilbur stared at the solid oak wood, feeling an abyss open up inside him.

Gone—you were gone.

And he was left alone.

So much for getting married.

“Was it worth it?”

You stopped swinging your legs from the gold throne you sat upon and cast a glance up at Dream, his green eyes boring into you from where he was perched on the chandelier. How he got up there, you still had no idea.

“Was what worth it?” you asked, examining a diamond between your fingers.

He cocked his head at you, gesturing to the castle surrounding the two of you. “This life. Your new title. You gave up so much for them, after all.” He began counting off on his fingers, his lips quirking. “You faked a relationship with Wilbur, pretended to love his son, befriended that brat, Tommy, and then blew it all to smithereens for the crown on your head.”

His gaze flickered back to yours. “Well?” he said again. “Was it worth it?”

You looked at him for a long moment, your expression pensive.

You thought of soft, brown curls tickling against your face as you awoke on the couch. You thought of fluttering laughter and bashful giggles. You thought of a pearly white grin flashing at you from the other side of the campfire. You thought of an old acoustic guitar that was almost always just a little out of tune. You thought of gentle kisses pressed to hands, cheeks, necks, and mouths.

You thought of Wilbur Soot.

And you smiled and felt nothing.

“Yes.”

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years ago

Note

Hi love!

Can I please beg for Tangled Geraskier?

Rapunzel Jask. You know I’m a sucker for angst so including the scene where he cuts her hair would slay me 💖💖💖💖💖

TYILYYYYY

Hello, Stina dear! Sorry this took me actual months to write, but it broke me out of my writer’s block and for that I am eternally grateful.

I chose several pieces of the Tangled narrative to write Geralt and Jaskier into... enjoy!

2k-ish words (please leave me comments I’m so tired my dudes)

tw: blood, injury, major character (near) death, if you’ve seen Tangled you’ve seen this

---

“So,” Jaskier smiles playfully up at the thief sitting beside him. “Roger Eric, huh?”

Geralt rolls his eyes but Jaskier catches the flush that settles high on his companion’s cheekbones. “It was… It’s a long and boring story about a lot of sad little children that I’m sure you don’t want to hear on such a lovely evening.”

Jaskier scoots closer, until the sides of their arms are pressed too tightly together for even a slip of paper to slide between, and leans his weight against the thief. He bats his thick eyelashes and pouts his lip in a way that always seems to work with his Father. “C’mon, Geralt, please won’t you tell me? Just one little story? I told you about my magical hair, after all.”

“Hmm,” the thief glares dawn at the doe-eyed blonde for a moment before nervously clearing his throat. “Fine. I… I got the name Geralt of Rivia from a collection of short stories that I used to read the other boys at the orphanage in Kaedwen; they were all about this knight who was loyal and brave and courageous despite his hideous appearance. He was rejected by princesses and noble women but was beloved by the people. Having been born with white hair… well, a lot of the folks that came looking for children thought I was under a spell or curse so…. I wasn’t their first choice for adoption.”

“You and Geralt were a lot alike, then. Different. Special… Kind.”

“I wouldn’t say I was spe-”

Jaskier’s hand darts forward and his long, slender musician’s fingers grasp Geralt by the wrist. The fledgling bard clings onto his escort tightly, his large blue eyes suddenly brimming up with tears. “Don’t you dare say you aren’t special, Geralt Roger Eric whatever your surname really is. I’ll never forgive you if you spew such nonsense where my delicate ears can hear it.”

Geralt swallows thickly and glances away. Jaskier always looks so sweet and sincere; the features on his boyish face flicker in and out of focus as patterns of light thrown by their small campfire play across his pale skin. His gaze is intense, focused on Geralt and Geralt alone. The thief panics and asks: “What is it, Jaskier? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You saved me, you know. You saved me from those men back there at the inn, you saved me from being trapped in the tower all my life, you saved me from getting lost in the forest, you… you’re a good person, Geralt. Don’t let the world or the Captain of the Guard or anyone else change your mind, do you understand me? You are-” Jaskier’s hands scrabble frantically to grasp Geralt’s, as if the white-haired man might disappear entirely if Jaskier so much as loosens his grip “- you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me since I’ve been locked in that foul, awful tower!”

“Well I…” Geralt clears his throat again. He stands slowly, disentangling his hangs from Jaskier’s as he takes a slow step back. And then another. “I should go get more firewood.”

Despite the uneasiness in their parting, Jaskier smiles after him.

The momentary spell cast by their closeness is only broken when Jaskier hears a familiar voice from just behind him: “Well, I thought he’d never leave!”

The blonde jumps up from his seat and spins on his heel to face the black-cloaked wizard. “Father? How… How did you find me?”

Stregobor wraps his arms around Jaskier’s shoulders and squeezes so tightly that it feels more like a threat than an embrace. “It was easy, I simply followed the sound of absolute betrayal.”

Jaskier flinches and tries to pull away but cannot yet escape.

“I just brought you this,” his Father continues. He finally releases Jaskier and hands his son the worn leather satchel he’d found hidden in his tower. “If this Geralt creature really is the man you think him to be -and don’t deny it, little flower, I can read your thoughts- give this back to him and see how long he stays.”

“Father, I-”

“Goodbye, my child. See you soon, I’m sure. Just remember that Father knows best!”

And in a swirl of black smoke and confusion, Stregobor disappears.

---

“Why do you look so scared?” Geralt asks. He slows the small gondola he’s rented to a stop, turning it slightly more to the side so that they have a better vantage point to see the lanterns spread over the harbor from the city. Jaskier sighs deeply and shakes a stray flower petal away from his eyes, the enormous golden braid shifting ever-so-slightly against his shoulders.

“I’ve been looking out a window for eighteen years,” he says softly. Nervously. “What if… What if it’s not what I expected? I’m terrified to see what it all looks like up close because what if it doesn’t meet my expectations? What if it’s not everything I dreamed it would be?”

“It will be,” Geralt replies without thinking.

“And what if it is?” Jaskier queries, voice growing frantic. “What if it’s even more spectacular than I could have ever hoped? Then my dream will have been fulfilled and I’ll just… go back to the tower again.”

“You’ll just have to find a new dream, I guess,” Geralt offers. When Jaskier settles down into the boat a bit more comfortably and smiles shyly back at him, the thief knows he’s hit the right mark for once. Behind Geralt, the first lantern lights up the sky. Jaskier gasps and points, eyes wide and sparkling with excitement; Geralt is utterly enchanted by his easy beauty. The thief digs two paper lanterns out from beneath his seat and offers one to Jaskier, giddy when he grins even more excitedly than before. “I got this for you… I hope you like it.”

“Oh, I love it! And I have something for you, too.” Jaskier turns and pulls something from behind him. The bardling hands Geralt his very own satchel, which the thief briefly accepts and then drops to the floor without a second thought. The anxious blonde musician beams over at him more gloriously than the midday sun and then turns away, blushing a sweet shade of pink. “I should have given it to you earlier, but I was so scared… and now I’m not! I’m not scared anymore!”

“Good,” Geralt smiles back. He’s elated. It feels as if his heart is glowing twice as brightly as any of the lanterns floating past and around them. “That’s very good.”

I know what my dream is now, Jaskier. Now that you’re here by my side I never want to see you frown again. You don’t deserve to be hidden away in a tower where your art is stifled… even if you don’t want to love me back in that way, I’ll still protect you. I want to see how you see the world, Jaskier. I lo-

“Geralt! Look! That one has runes painted on it, what does it say!?”

---

Geralt pulls his daggers from his belt but before he can stab them into the craigy stone wall and begin his ascent, the familiar tresses of Jaskier’s long golden hair topple down to reach him. Thank fuck, he’s still alive.

“Jaskier! I thought I’d never see you again!” he calls as he grabs hold of the thick blonde strands.

The thief climbs quickly, his arms and legs nearly cramping with the effort to hurry back to Jaskier. As he hauls himself through the large window and into the tower proper, however, he’s met with a confusing and unsettling sight: Jaskier stands across the room, a cloth gag pulled tightly between his teeth, his hands manacled together behind him. A short length of spare chain attached to the manacles keeps the frightened, struggling blonde tethered against one of the building’s thick support beams. Someone had knocked down a mirror or vase during the previous fighting; shards of pottery and silver lie scattered across the floor, working as a weak barrier to keep Geralt away from the bound man. Jaskier screams out in warning as their eyes meet: “Ghmphh!”

If Jaskier is being held captive then who let his hair do-

Before Geralt can finish fully forming his question, a bright flash of pain arcs out from his side and sends him toppling to his knees. A wet, sticky heat begins to spread from a spot beneath his ribs and when he presses his hand against his shirt it comes way red.

Oh. Oh, no...

He hears Stregobor’s voice addressing the sobbing blonde, “Now look what you’ve done, Jaskier.”

Geralt collapses to his knees and then falls to his side, curling up in the fetal position and clutching at the wound as if that will be any help at all. He knows he’s doomed, but there must be some way for him to help Jaskier… to save his… his love.

“Don’t worry, little flower, our secret will die with your little thief, here, and then we’ll be safe again. Just the two of us.”

Jaskier keens loudly and the sharp, desperate sound of it makes something deep in Geralt’s heart ache. The younger man pulls and yanks against the chains that hold him in place, his bare feet slipping against the polished floor as he tries and fails to reach the wounded Geralt.

Stregobor yanks at the lead, pulling Jaskier back harshly by the arms. The young musician’s shoulders burn with the strain of it but Jaskier pulls forward anyway, uncaring. He must save Geralt, he must. The wizard tugs him back again, more roughly, and the jarring movement loosens his gag. He spits it from his mouth and cries out: “Stregobor! Strego- Father, listen to me!”

The wizard pauses, his interest piqued by Jaskier’s use of the word Father given the circumstances. “Yes, child?”

“Father,” Jaskier pants, turning to look at the man who’d held him captive for eighteen years. The man who kidnapped him from his cradle and forced him to grow up without the love of his real parents. The man who had, mere moments ago, stabbed the love of Jaskier’s life with the full intention of killing him. “I want you to know that I won’t stop fighting you. Every moment of every day for the rest of my life will be spent trying to get away from you. I will scream and kick and struggle and yell and you will have to keep me caged away as a bird or a mouse to make me stay by your side unless-” Jaskier pauses to take a breath, his shoulders sagging as his gaze drops submissively to the floor between them “-unless you let me save this man. Let me save Geralt’s life and I will follow you all around the Continent without a single word of complaint. I will never attempt to run away or hide from you, not once. Everything will go back to being exactly like it was before, Father, I swear on his life.”

Stregobor considers for a moment.

He nods.

“Alright, then. Let’s be quick about it, little flower.”

He removes the shackles from Jaskier and clamps them tightly around Geralt’s wrists instead, securing him to the bannister at the foot of the stairs. To keep him from following us, he remarks offhandedly.

Jaskier pads his way across the floor as quickly as he can in his bare feet and falls to the ground at Geralt’s side. He pulls the wounded thief against his side to steady him and gathers two heavy handfuls of his own long hair. “I’m so sorry! Everything is going to be okay now, Geralt, I swear it.”

Geralt shoves his hands away weakly, “No, Jaskier.”

“You have to trust me, Geralt, I-”

“I c-can’t let you d-do this,” Geralt grunts, teeth gritted against the pain.

Jaskier stares down at him, tears already gathering at the corners of his sky-blue eyes. His voice trembles when he whispers, “And I can’t let you die. I won’t let you die.”

“But if you do th-this then you-” Geralt coughs and Jaskier wipes a trickle of blood away from the corner of the thief’s mouth “-you will die.”

“Shh,” Jaskier quiets him, dropping one fistfull of blonde tresses to cup Geralt’s face instead. “Everything will be alright.”

Geralt smiles sadly up at Jaskier, his decision already having been made. He lets the back of his knuckles ghost across the musician’s peach-soft cheek. Jaskier’s eyes flutter shut for a moment and then open again, curious. “Jaskier, I…”

The thief uses the last of his strength to push up into a sitting position. The hand on Jaskier’s face slides back and gathers his hair at the back of his neck. Geralt’s other hand comes up, a shard of glass gripped tightly in his fist, and slices through the long blonde strands. He watches as Jaskier’s hair turns from radiant gold to chestnut brown. Geralt falls back with a short, sharp sound of agony, his vision already fading around the edges. The shard of mirror, dagger-sharp around the edges, clatters to the ground beside Jaskier.

“No!” Stregobor screams, gathering up an armful of Jaskier’s still-blonde hair. The golden hue is already fading, shifting to match the short brown hair still fluffed around his head. The lost prince watches with wide, horrified eyes as the wizard trips over a loose floorboard and goes careening out the open window.

More worrying than his kidnapper’s death, however, is the man lying in his arms, breathing shallowly. Jaskier gathers Geralt close, tucking the thief’s head against his neck and wrapping his arms around the older man’s broad shoulders. “No, no, no, no, Geralt. Stay with me, okay? Stay with me, right here.”

He grabbed at Geralt’s hand, holding it against the top of his head as he sang desperately. “Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine, make the clock reverse, bring back was once was mi-”

“Jaskier!” Geralt says, pulling his hand down to cup the prince’s face. He can feel his limbs growing cold and numb, distant from him and out of his control. “You… You were my new dream.”

Jaskier sobs, clinging to Geralt with all he’s worth. “And you were mine.”

Geralt manages to smile up into those beautiful blue eyes one last time. And then the world goes dark and his hand falls to the floor, limp.

---

Jaskier buries his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck and screams. He throws back his head and howls like a wounded animal, his heart shattering to pieces within the confines of his chest cavity. Then he quiets himself down, adjusts Geralt’s body on his lap, and finishes the song the way he’s been taught to do: “Heal what has been hurt, change the Fates’ design, save what has been lost… bring back what once was mine.”

A single tear falls from his eye and lands on Geralt’s cheek. A cheek that will never blush again, never turn up in a smile, never-

A faint yellow glow catches Jaskier’s vision, just from the corner of his eye. He turns his head to look at Geralt’s wound and gasps: the outline of a golden flower covers his abdomen, glowing so brightly that Jaskier must hide his eyes and turn away to keep from being blinded. When the glow fades enough that can safely look back again, Geralt’s wound is gone and the blood that was once staining his jerkin has disappeared.

He leans over the white-haired thief with bated breath, waiting for a movement or a breath or something… anything.

After a long moment, two honey-hazel eyes blink open. Geralt inhales quietly and then asks, with the sweetest smile Jaskier has ever seen in all his eighteen years of life, “Did I ever tell you I had a thing for brunettes?”

Jaskier squeals with glee and throws himself into Geralt’s waiting arms, pressing their eager mouths together for the first kiss of their Happily Ever After.

#geraskier #geraskier tangled au #rapunzel jaskier #flynn ryder geralt #geraskier fluff #geraskier getting together #bouncey's endless au collection #protective geralt #soft geralt #geralt whump #tangled #blood mention #blood tw #injury tw #death but only for a minute #tangled au #goob prompt fills

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slowpoke-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Poison

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Pairing: Stefan x Reader

Request Summary: The reader has anger issues and is on verge of becoming an alcoholic as she feels helpless. Stefan helps her through to quit alcoholism and fight her fears and control her anger.

Warnings: alcoholism, self deprecation, Stefan being hungry, ooc Stefan and matt? idk I know I've missed some, as always read at your own risk

A/N: Yoooooo, welcome me back to the land of the matrix folks because I have crawled out of my pit of despair to bring you 1000 or so words that will hopefully give you a small rush of serotonin!

My friend, @yipee101, has been so patient and kind, they may have forgotten about this but I did not!! I hope you enjoy love.

Thank you pals for being patient with me.

Blessed be to all of you and sweet love to come your way <3

You slipped your sixth shot of whiskey down your throat, pouring another as you listened to Elena and Damon put their vamp skills to good use again. It just reminded you of what you couldn't be, and you had to admit it made you a little sick to be the only one who couldn’t defend herself. The only one so vulnerable, so mortal. Nobody would let you turn, everyone just wanted to keep you 'pure.' Your blood boiled just thinking about it. You decided you weren’t gonna just stand there and listen to them fuck, so you took your shot and slammed the glass down so hard it shattered. You headed for the door, not waiting around in the Salvatore house for Stefan when all you could hear was thudding and graphic moans.

As you stumbled to the door you went through your purse to find your car keys. Grabbing the handle and pulling the door open you were met with Stefans confused face. You walked right by him, “You know, if you were gonna be late we could’ve met at the Grill.” Stefan beat you to the car, taking the keys from you and putting you in the passenger seat. You pulled out your flask and began drinking, “Sorry I was late love, don’t you think you could slow down?” your blood boiled.

“Listen sweetheart, I know that you think you know what’s best, but the drinking isn’t a problem.” Stefan shakes his head as you take yet another swig, “Why do you keep drinking so much anyway?” You smiled big, clearly not wanting to talk about it, "After listening to Elena and Damon fuck for an hour, I think it's okay," raising the flask as if you’d raise your glass, spinning around to lay your head on his leg, you down a good mouthful of liquor, “So babe, how come you were late anyway?” Stefan sighed, “I got caught up hunting was a little hungrier than normal.” You gently reached your hand up and rubbed Stefan’s arm reassuringly, “It's okay to be hungry, I know it’s hard.”

You arrived at the grill, quickly pulling the bottle from your backseat and refilling your now empty flask. Stefan met you at your side of the car, allowing you to slide your arm perfectly with his for support. "It's lovely, ya know?" You mumbled as Stefan opened the door for you, "What is Y/N/N?" Sliding into the booth, "To be so drunk all the time that I don't have all the flies buzzing 'round me. All the little worries just whoosh, and everything is just so fun." Matty comes up to you and Stefan, taking your order and allowing you to order a rum and coke and a random meal.

After about ten minutes, Matty brings you another drink, you slammed it back, chugging and pounding the glass on the table a little too hard. Matty saluted you, bringing you another. You went back to back for a good half hour. Matty started to sit down another for you, but Stefan interjected, “I think she’s had enough tonight Matt.” Matt nodded, looking at your disheveled figure, head lying on the tables arms crossed under your head, ready to pass out. “‘M ready to go home,” you mumbled as you laid back in your booth, happily relaxing into the overly inviting cushions. Stefan lightly laughed, trying to cover the true concern he had for you.

Even though you guys had been dating nearly a year, this is how it always was. At first, he didn’t notice it, but the closer you two got the more you allowed him to see. You had finally explained to him that it was ‘your normal,’ that it had been since the night at the haunted house and Stefan almost died trying to save you from a vampire. Stefan looks at you for a minute, recalling the words he would never forget you said, “Nobody gave a shit back then so don’t start caring now.” Stefan picked you up out of the booth, carrying you to your car and softly closing the door. As he got back into the car, he noticed you trying to finish off your flask. He had decided in that moment, enough was enough. He took your flask from you, eliciting a heavy groan from you that didn’t last long because of your truly fucked state. The last thing you remember is laying your head on his leg as your normal position, his fingers running softly through your hair.

When you woke up the next morning you instantly ran to the bathroom, unlucky to be one of the times you had a hangover. You pounded on the floor next to your toilet, trying to alert Stefan. He was instantly next to you, handing you a cup, no doubt his special morning blend with enough of his blood to make all of this go away. He gently pulled your hair up and wrapped it in a bun, watching as you drank the contents of the cup, knowing it would be over soon. In truth, it was. After you finished chugging the cup you leaned back onto Stefan. “Good morning,” you laughed, “I hate for us to start it this way,” Stefan mumbled as he kissed your forehead, sliding his arms under yours and pulling you to your feet. You spun around to face him, “What the fuck?” you near shouted. “Why do you have to nit pick so fucking early?”

"It's not nit picking, Y/N" He tried to speak non-confrontational, "I am genuinely worried about you. This isn't healthy-you're not invincible to this." You scoffed, pushing past him and downstairs to your kitchen, Stefan following suit as you spoke, "You mean I'm human, right? Defenseless and vulnerable?" You shook your head, interrupting him as he tried to speak, "No-don't even, this wouldn't be a problem if I was a vampire. If I wasn't so fucking needy, always pitifully needing protecting, can't even decide how much liquor to drink." You slammed the coffee pot back in it's place, impatiently waiting for it to finish. "I don't think you're pitiful or needy. I think that you're drinking too much and putting your life in needless danger and you won't tell me why."

You flailed your arms, spinning around to pour yourself a cup of coffee, grabbing a bottle of liquor and starting to pour some in, but Stefan's hand is on the bottle. You slammed the bottle down turning to Stefan, shoving him back with every scream, "You stupid fucking," shove, "I told you," shove, "it makes me feel better!" shove. You sighed, "I'm sorry," running your hands on your face, sighing again, "Just, get the fuck out Stefan." You turned back to your cup, pouring the liquor, only to be stopped by Stefan, "No." Your blood boiled, "Get the fuck out!!" Stefan took the bottle from you, setting it back on the counter, "Not if when I leave you're just going to drink that."

You instantly threw your coffee cup, watching it shatter into pieces before grabbing the bottle and turning it up. You chugged and chugged until Stefan pulled it away from you, "You gonna fucking leave now?" Stefan stepped closer to you, hating the way the alcohol burned his nose, like a poison coming off of you, "Baby, I'm not going anywhere." You screamed, out of frustration or shame you weren't sure which, it was a blood curdling scream, slamming your hand down, hitting the liquor bottle cross the floor enjoying the way it shattered. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"You! This!" Stefan sighed, "You won't talk to me, you brush me off and act like this isn't something I should care about but it's been like this as long as I can remember, I'm worried, I can't protect-" You slammed your hands down on the counter over and over, kicking the cabinets and laughing, "Jesus Christ Stefan, I don't need your protection!" Stefan grabbed your hands, turning you to him as gently as he could, your strength diminished from the bottle of alcohol you chugged, "I want to protect you, I want to, I know you don't need it, I want to," his voice to a whisper at the end of his plea, "I want to," his hand moved from your wrist to your face, "I love you, I want you to be around as long as possible, I need to protect you, you don't need me to, I do."

You sighed, your forehead resting on his, "I love you too," you pulled your wrists back, "I'm sorry." Starting to pull away from him to clean the mess up, he was gone and back before you noticed the mess was gone. "Talk to me," Stefan said as you walked past him, sitting on the couch. "I hate myself," you sighed, "I'm so weak and puny, I feel like I'm always in the way," you shrugged, "I get so angry all the time, maybe not even at other people, really at myself," leaning against Stefan as he put his arm around you, "Drinking helps, really?" he asked hoping to hear an honest response. "If I'm honest? No, I just feel like it's better than feeling like this all the time."

Stefan slid his arm under your legs, his free arm moving your arm around his neck before moving around your waist and standing up. "What?" You looked up at him, he smiled, "I have something that might help." In the next moment, you guys were out of your house and watching everything rush by until you hit forest. Suddenly Stefan stopped running, setting you down gently, smiling, "I was gonna show you to this on our anniversary, it's not finished yet, but I don't see why we can't go ahead and visit."

You started to ask what he meant until you saw it-near dead ahead was a large clearing, but it had been worked on, there was a stack of rocks with one slab of rock covered in the softest moss you'd ever touched, "So you can read and do homework comfortably," Stefan said, pointing up to the makeshift roof of vines that you now notice wrap around the trees, making a circle around the clearing, you loudly gasp, taken by the beauty and effort he's already put into this for you, for your relationship.

You continue to look around as he points to an obvious training area, he smiles, "I know that you've been struggling, but I didn't realize how much," he moved closer to you, his front now pressed against your back, arms encircling your waist, chin resting on your shoulder, whispering in your ear, "I'm gonna have Bonnie protect it, it's gonna be just us here, me n you gonna relax, you're gonna read over there, train over there, we can put a table for picnicking over there-" he points to an area that is close to the moss bed, "and lots of flowers and colors, to always brighten our day, gonna put a vine door-" you turned around and kissed him.

Your hands were on the side of his face, hair intertwining with his hair, he lifted you up, your legs circling his waist, you feel him smile. You pulled back, "I love it, thank you, this is going to be great," you kissed him again, "you know, it is our space, I could help you put stuff together, whatever you wanted to add." Stefan nodded, kissing your forehead, "I think when you wanna drink we should come here." You kissed under his ear, trailing down his neck, "two conditions," Stefan hummed, moving his head to the side he allowed you more access as he pressed you against one of the many trees that circled the clearing.

"Well, we'll come here when I wanna drink, if we'll come here when you get hungry," Stefan let out a small groan as you bit his neck gently, loving how he pulled your hair. "And the second?" He asked as your hands traced down his torso, grabbing the hem of his shirt, "you fuck me, now." He smiled, kissing you hard, and the next thing you know, you're sitting on the edge of the moss bed. "Easy," he pulls off your shirt, admiring your body for a moment, "it's a deal."

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bittenwritten · 3 years ago

Text

Idle Gossip

[Harley Quinn 2019] Scarecrow x [Villain] reader

*reader is gender neutral* [Reposted from my Wattpad account]

It all started with your invitation to the Penguin’s nephew’s Bar Mitzvah coming through the mail slot. Normally, you’d prefer to keep to yourself and not attend any social gatherings. However, on this occasion you’d had a rough week and a fancy get-together seemed to be just what the doctor ordered, and so you decided to bite the bullet and attend. Unfortunately, what you seemed to completely forget, until the day of the Bar Mitzvah, is that you'd actually have to talk to people. Great.

You decided that cancelling now would just be more hassle than it was worth, and so that is how you ended up sitting round a small table with a few of your fellow Legion of Doom members discussing the recent drama that was the JoQuinn break-up. Other than the Joker blowing up the host of Good Morning Gotham, this was the first time you were hearing about the whole drama, so it was all news to you. Well, I say ‘conversation’, it was more so just Scarecrow gossiping at the group about the whole hullabaloo while everyone else was becoming tired of the non-stop gossip coming out of Jonathan’s mouth. Well, everyone but you. You couldn’t for the life of you explain, but you just seemed to hang onto every single word that came out of his mouth as he rambled on.

You weren't even really listening to what was being said anymore, you were just so transfixed by the way he spoke, there was some kind of devilish charm to it that made you feel weak in the knees.

You’d only recently realized your feelings for the twig of a man on a collaborative heist, where you had to suddenly drag him out of Batman's sight and ended up pinning him up against the wall. Neither of you even said anything, you just stared at each other for an uncomfortably long time until Batman walked in and caught the two of you like that. It had to be the most embarrassing point in your career, but there was something about that flustered look on his face that made your heart skip a beat.

Back in the present, Twoface looked like he was about to lose his patience before the door to the atrium swung open. Two figures stood in the doorway, the more extravagant of the two had a massive tiger on a lead in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. You didn’t even recognise her for a split-second but her pale-white skin was an immediate give away to her identity, it was the Joker’s ex, Harley Quinn. Behind her stood the more intimidating figure of Poison Ivy, she seemed to be more disinterested with the whole thing. Harley took a swing from the bottle and threw it over her shoulder, only to stop dead in her tracks as she looked around in horror, you could only assume she mis-read her invite in regards to what type of party this was. Glancing over to your fellow villains, they seemed to be just as confused as you were.

“Well, this is an interesting development” Scarecrow commented, resting his head in his hand as he leaned forward. “You know...” he started “i bet there’s something going on between those two” he used his free-hand to gesture towards the two.

“Y’know what, I’m starving.” TwoFace quickly stood up “Bane, buddy, how's about you and I go check out the buffet?”

“Sure, sounds good.” Bane said in his usual upbeat tone.

“Yeah, good idea.” Scarecrow added as he began to stand out of his seat.

“Nah, nah, nah.” TowFace cut him off. “Y’know two’s company but three's a crowd-” he clearly just wanted an excuse to get away from the non-stop gossip that was giving him a head-ache.

“You two just stay put, we’ll be back in a sec” and with that he bee-lined towards the buffet table with Bane following closely behind. Scarecrow slowly sat back down and stared in confusion at the two before turning his attention to you.

“Wonder what got into them” he laughed awkwardly.

“Yeah, I wonder.” you agreed and took a quick sip from your drink.

His expression turned to a more deadpan one. “Well I mean you could at least try to be a bit more subtle with it.” he scoffed.

“Sweetheart, if I was to be subtle about anything, you wouldn’t pick up on a single thing I was implying” you shot back, leaning towards him and taking another swig from your drink.

“Oh, like your obvious attraction to me.” he joked and raised an eyebrow as you spat out your drink in surprise.

“S’cuse me?!” you managed to sputter out once you recovered from your coughing fit.

“Oh give me a break.” he rolled his eyes. “I know I can be a bit oblivious at times but not to this extent.” he said as a smirk formed at the edges of his mouth.

“What are you talking about?” you laughed nervously, trying to relieve some of the sudden tension that had been created. He looked at you like you’d just asked him who Batman was before answering.

“I mean, you avoiding me recently, your longing stares.” he put a hand on his head in overly dramatic fashion, which admittedly got a slight laugh from you.

“I mean for fucks sake, just now you were making eyes at me throughout the conversation about the break-up.” he added. Your body stiffens and heats up as he finishes his sentence. God, were you that obvious?

At this point, your face was as red as a tomato and you were stumbling over your words as you failed to come up with a rebuttal. Luckily you were saved from this hell when Bane and TwoFace returned to the table, stopping him from continuing his accusation. You sighed in relief and looked back over to him, he still had that smug smirk on his face that always made your heart flutter.

“How's the food over there?” you asked.

“Eh, nothing worth spoiling your dinner for.” TwoFace shrugged, sitting back into his seat.

“Uh-oh, who are these trouble-makers?” Harley walked up to the table.

“Nah, I'm just kidding- I know it’s you [name], Scarecrow, TwoFace, other side of TwoFace, Bane-!” you all laughed at her imitation. “I'm gonna’ blow up this Bar Mitzvah” Bane grumbled.

“Quinn, Great ta’ see ya’! Where've ya’ been hiding?” TwoFace asked.

“On your left side where you can’t see shit!”

You all burst into laughter again but this time you couldn’t help but steal another look at Scarecrow. You loved the way he looked when he laughed, from the way his eyes lit up to his dorky smile, you just couldn't get enough of it but you quickly looked away before he could catch your staring.

“So guess who came up with a plan to kill Batman, uh, ya girl-” but before she could continue a looming shape appeared behind her.

“Look who’s trying to run before she can walk”. Well, as if your night couldn’t get any worse, the Joker was here to completely derail it. Great.

The others laughed and you plastered on a fake smile.

“Mazel Tov!” Bane greeted him.

“Jesus”

“Glad you're here, J-man. Pull up a chair, doesn’t bother me-” Harley pulled out the menu.

“So who’s going beef and who’s going chicken?”

“You are going somewhere else-” Joker demanded.

“-because this is the Legion of Doom table! Why don’t you find the crazy bitch table?”

“Spoiler: it’s not a real table” Bane chipped in.

“That was implied-”

“Oh” Bane frowned.

“Who wants to ditch this jester and tear up Gotham with me?!” Harley yelled, which was only met with manic laughter from the Joker.

“Laugh, laugh with me” Joker ordered. You did your best to sound genuine as you forced a laugh, like the others, but you weren't too sure how convincing you sounded.

“Uhh, you know what, who needs ya’ this table is too far away from the dancefloor anyway!” Harley stomped off.

Joker pulled up a seat and sat down.

“Sorry about that folks, women am i right?” None of you really felt comfortable with that last comment.

“Joker, nice to see ya’, didn’t think you’d make it” TwoFace said, greeting him.

“Well, of course, how could i miss such a big event” he grinned, to you it seemed a bit disingenuous but you let it slide.

“Now, what did I miss?”

“Scarecrow was just telling us how Harley dumped ya’.” TwoFace explained.

“Oh really?”

The smug grin on the Joker’s face dropped as he shot a glare at Scarecrow, who was currently sweating bullets.

“Oh I'm sure you're definitely in a position to talk, Crane, seeing as your single ass can’t even get a date, let alone dump one. And for the record, I dumped her.” you could feel the condescending nature of his tone as he spoke. Jonathan looked down at his drink as Joker continued to talk down to him.

You desperately wanted to say something but were snapped out of your thoughts by a loud voice screaming “assholes-”, you all quickly turned to see where the voice came from, only to find it was Harley bitching about you all to Ivy. Joker shot her a smug grin before turning back to the group. He opened his mouth to speak again only to be cut off.

“But they don’t know shit-” Harley screamed again, shaking their table as she slammed her fists onto it. Luckily, this seemed to distract Joker from his rant long enough for him to forget.

“Now, where was I?”

Thinking quickly you came up with an answer.

“You were talking about dumping Harley.”

“Ah, yes. Can you believe that, the bitch even blew up my hideout out of spite-” he started going on and on about how he was totally the one who ended it. You looked over to Scarecrow as he sighed a breath of relief and mouthed ‘thank you’. You smiled and nodded at him before facing back to the pasty-white madman in front of you.

By the time Joker had finished his rant, the food had arrived. It was pretty good, but you and Scarecrow were both too busy stealing looks at each other while the other wasn’t looking to enjoy it.

“Uuh, my chicken’s rubbery.” Joker grumbled.

“Ooh, your beef looks good” he said as he slid Bane’s plate over to himself.

“Uh, fine” Bane sighed as he reached for the plate of chicken, wanting at least something to eat.

“Ah-“ Joker swatted his hand away.

“I might finish that.”

“Well, then, what are we doing?-” Bane protested, but was cut off by a voice over the speakers.

“Hey, everybody, let’s give it up for Joshua’s Bar Mitzvah. Huh?” Penguin stood on stage next to his nephew, Joshua.

“It was very special, for me it was when I realized it was my dream to become a crime lord” he wiped a tear from his eye before continuing.

“So today, I force that dream onto you.” The crowd cheered as he placed a top-hat, that was identical to his, onto Joshua’s head.

You look out of the corner of your eye and catch Scarecrow staring directly at you. Though he was wearing his mask, you could tell he was blushing by the way his eyes darted away from you as he straightened himself the moment your eyes met, only daring to look back at you to see if you were still staring back at him. You flashed him a cheeky grin as you playfully winked at him, you could swear that you saw his heart completely stop beating inside his chest as you did.

“Okay, Joshua, get ready for your first caper! Good luck fighting off the guards, also known as Gotham Chuckle Hut’s finest improvisers, and stealing that cash-ola, otherwise known as ‘Joshua Bucks’!” The curtains began to open.

“Go Joshua- Oh my God-”

The curtains opened fully to reveal what seemed to be a massacre. The improv troupe lay in pools of their own blood, you could even see the bone fully stick out of one man’s leg for crying out loud! The culprit stood in the doorway of the vault, after somehow getting it open, and was holding some of the ‘Joshua Bucks’. Judging by your table’s reaction, you could tell who it was. Your suspicions were confirmed when the perp spoke up.

“Hey, Joshy, Mazel Tov!” Yeah, it was Harley. You could get a better view of her as she walked closer and picked up one of the men so it looked like he was standing.

There was an audible gasp from the crowd as she dropped him again, further exposing his bones. In contrast, Joker started laughing maniacally and nugded Bane.

“This is fantastic! You’re probably not laughing because this is sort of how you screw up.”

“You ruined the Bar Mitzvah!” Penguin stated as he walked forward as the crowd booed.

“-and crippled an improv troupe!”

“Meh- oh well”

Bane, TwoFace and Bane quickly stood up, but you and Scarecrow were only now snapping fully back into reality.

“If you two could quit your eye-fucking session and hurry up, it would be greatly appreciated-” Joker snapped at you both as he and the others made their way to the vault room, before you could say anything to defend yourselves. You both looked at each other for a split-second but you quickly pushed down your feelings of embarrassment and speeded after them with Jonathan hot on your heels.

“-and that's our show, folks!” Harley announced and took a bow before darting towards the exit.

“I've got this.” Penguin said, cocking his umbrella gun and taking aim.

There was a loud ‘thud’ as Harley fell to the floor as the tranquilizer dart took effect. You all gathered round to see what was happening.

“Say ‘goodnight, Puddin’.” Joker spoke with a smug grin on his face.

“You think… this is gonna’... stop...me?” her words became more slurred as she slipped into unconsciousness. Joker only laughed at ths threat.

“Hah- She even sounds like you!” he laughed as he turned to Bane.

“Oh- I don't think… Do I sound like… You never hear your own voice I guess.” Bane sputtered out, as two of Penguin’s henchmen picked up Harley’s limp body. You all walked out of the vault room and joined the crowd as the music started playing again.

“I’m assuming this is all you’ll be gossiping about for the next year.” you spoke in a hushed tone as you nudged Scarecrow’s arm. He simply rolled his eyes at you, but did nothing to cover up the dorky grin on his face as he did so.

“Perhaps.” he said, pausing before he continued.

“When I do, would you like me to leave in the part where I repeatedly caught you staring affectionately at me or no?”

“Oh really, ‘cause I could've sworn that I caught you only a couple of minutes ago doing the exact same thing.” you scoffed, leaning towards him.

You see a hint of momentary panic in his eyes as he tries to conjure up an excuse and push down the feeling of… warmth?- he got in his stomach as he remembered the part where you winked at him, he couldn’t explain it but it felt familiar. Then it hit him like a brick, he knew exactly where he’d felt this before. He’d felt the same weird, warm, fuzzy, confusing feeling when you had him pinned against that old factory wall and were staring into his eyes. He’d rather die than admit it, but you looming above him, the way your chest rose and fell as you panted, the fact that your mouths were so close that if he so much as tilted his head upward your lips would be touching, might have just awoken something in him.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and saw you still waiting for his answer.

“Guilty as charged.” he shrugged and laughed nervously.

Before you could continue, you both noticed four men carrying Harley, who was tied to a chair and just regaining consciousness now.

“Cut the song- No Horah for Harley” Penguin ordered as the men placed the chair down a couple of feet away from him.

“Hey, it's gonna’ take more than a souped-up parasol to keep me from kicking your ass you fat, flightless bird.” Harley snapped.

“The mouth on her!” Penguin turned to Joshua.

“What better way to become a man than by-”

“-Ohh! Than by touching your umbrella? Whoo!” Joshua snatched the umbrella from his hands.

“Yes! I’ve been waiting for this!” he stated as he pointed it towards Harley

“Any last words before I kill your dumb, blonde, stupid, smelly-”

“-That’s too many adjectives,” Scarecrow whispered. You nodded in agreement.

“-Idiot ass!” Joshua finished.

“Hey, Joshua, make sure you aim it directly at my head ‘cause you don’t want to miss in front of your friends and family-”

“I won’t miss” Joshua stated as his hand began to shake.

“I don’t know.. That trembly finger’s telling a different story-” she taunted.

“I-it’s not trembly, it’s just- I’ve never shot an umbrella before-”

“I bet there’s a lot of things you’ve never done, like: drunk a beer-”

“-I drunk a beer, like all the time. I always drunk beers” his voice became as shaky as his hand as he looked around the room.

“I bet you still believe in Santy Clause.”

“I-i don’t! I’m Jewish and tonight I’m a man!”

“Oh, that’s right, i forgot that I’m talkin’ to a newly grown man- I mean you’ve already finger-banged somebody.” There was a loud gasp from the audience. Well, this got uncomfortable real quick.

“Wait, what?!”

“I mean you have, haven’t you, you didn’t lie about such an important milestone, right?”

“Y-yeah it happened!”

“Are you sure?” Joshua’s body was fully trembling at this point as he looked over to his uncle, who glared back at him, waiting for him to take the shot.

“I-I don’t… I don’t know… it was dark” he stammered .

“It was at camp, at night… it was me and her and it was dark. I definitely did something”

“Oh, Joshy, do you really think you're ready to kill someone if you’ve never even finger-blasted a girl?”

“You’re right- I’m not ready” he started to sob as he ran into his mother's arms.

“I told you we should’ve gotten him the dollhouse like he asked, Oswald-” she hissed

“It’s not a dollhouse! It’s an army base with sound effects of real screams, and it’s the only thing I wanted!” his voice broke half way through his sentence.

“Your dead, Quinn” Penguin spat as he aimed his umbrella at her, but then the sound of glass breaking filled the room and a man fell face-first from the ceiling, followed by Poison Ivy lowering herself down from the newly made hole with a vine. Harley greeted her before doing a front flip onto her back which broke the chair, and something else , you assumed by the way she reacted.

“Uuh, i thought that was gonna be way cooler-” she hissed as the Joker walked up to her.

“Harley, you're not a solo-act, you're a sidekick, an afterthought. No one is ever going to take you seriously. Admit you’re nothing without me and you walk away alive. Or you can die!”

“Welp, easy choice.” the weird green man got up from the floor.

“uh , lovely Bar Mitzvah. Mazel, mazel.” he began to walk away.

“Are you leaving?” Ivy asked him.

“Uh, no-”

“I ain’t admitting shit!” Harley hissed as she picked herself up. Joker only sighed.

“Boys?” he called on the four of you, you all grinned and raced to grab your weapons from the table.

“I’ve got TwoFace.” Harley stated.

“I’ve got [name] and Scarecrow.” Ivy confirmed.

“I have-oh wow- oh God- wow.” Kite-Man stared up to see Bane towering over him, who got even bigger when he started pumping venom into himself.

“You- you’re looming! Um, alright, I’ll take, um… if you don’t mind if you could scootch just a little.” he asked, looking past Bane.

“Boom, onsite coordinator. Looking kind of brittle there, won’t see it-” Bane swatted him to the other side of the room before he could finish.

TwoFace opened fire on the two, but Ivy used her vines as a shield for herself and Harley. Within seconds, Harley was flung over the top of the shield and landed behind you and Scarecrow. You both turn around just in time to dodge the first few swings of her bat but as Scarecrow stepped back Harley kicked his gun right out of his hand and yelled for Ivy to pass her TwoFace’s gun. You spun round to see if Jonathan was alright, only to be met with a bat to the back of the head as Harley snuck up behind you, which caused you to fall forwards. You braced yourself for the feeling of your head hitting the hard tiles but were caught on your way down. You looked up to see Scarecrow grabbing you by the arm, you pushed against him and were able to get back on your feet and tossed him his gun. You glanced behind him to see Harley aiming TwoFace’s gun at his back but fired before you could get out a warning. As the bullets punctured the canisters on his back, the force of the fear toxin rushing out sent him flying. You covered your mouth and ran away to avoid the fear toxin that was already causing people to hallucinate, grabbing your gun as you did. Thankfully, Scarecrow landed a couple of feet from where you were and you rushed over to him. You offered him your hand and quickly pulled him up.

Behind you, Harley continued firing from the stolen gun before Penguin was able to shoot it, causing it to explode in Harley’s hand. As she stepped back in shock, she bumped into TwoFace who pulled out two dual handguns. She began to back away to Ivy as you, Scarecrow and Penguin walked up to join TwoFace, weapons drawn.

“Let’s get out of here!” Ivy yelled. Harley looked behind you all only to see Joker filming the whole thing.

“No, let’s fight! Maybe Kite-Man can help!” They glanced over to where Kite-Man was and witnessed as Bane repeatedly punched him in the head while he had him in a choke-hold.

“Bane, quit dicking around with Kite-Man and get those two.” Joker snapped.

“But he was attacking me-”

“With what, a kite? Just do as I tell you, you dumb, freakish monster!”

“Bane, why are you letting him talk to you like that?” Harley asked.

“In fact, why do any of you let him talk to you like that?” she began to raise her voice as she looked at the four of you. You all lowered your weapons and looked over to where Joker stood.

“He doesn't even have powers-” you felt your body stiffen as you shifted your gaze down to the floor.

“His only power is bullying you into doing what he wants. I should know, he did it to me for years.”

“Don’t listen to her! She’s nothing.” Joker protested.

“She makes a good point, I don’t like how you called me a monster” Bane interrupted him.

“Yeah that was pretty harsh” Scarecrow chipped in and looked to you as you nodded in agreement.

“Oh my God, it’s just an expression-” Joker tried to explain it away before Bane interrupted him.

“Also, let’s talk about dinner-” Bane crossed his arms. “I selected the beef well in advance and you stole it from me, you said you didn’t even want to come to this ‘stupid thing’.”

The crowd gasped.

“My thoughts exactly, this is a monumental night for young Joshua.”

“I’m the Joker, I was joking, okay? Oh my God, I’ll kill her myself.” he said, pulling out his gun and pointing it to Harley’s head, only for Ivy to stand in his way.

“Ivy, if you could just, y’know, just move so I, I can just kill your friend.”

“Absolutely- over my dead body.”

“Uhh- female friendships!” he groaned as he got ready to shoot, but Ivy’s vines suddenly sprouted up behind him and surrounded the three.

The sudden action caused you to step back and instinctively grab onto Scarecrow’s shoulder, which caused him to freeze momentarily before melting into your touch.

Joker aimed his gun at Ivy’s head but she didn’t move a muscle as her vines closed in on him. High-pitch laughter came from his pocket as his phone rang. He began yelling into the phone about some sort of building issue with his base and ran off, but you weren't really paying attention. You looked down at where your hand was, only to notice a large red stain on his upper-arm, it took you mere seconds to realize that it was blood, his blood even. You assumed he must have knocked into something sharp when he was sent flying a couple of minutes ago. You must have looked fairly shocked, as Jonathan followed your gaze down to the wound and tried to brush your hand away.

“I-I’m fine. -really-” he started, but you only grabbed his arm and noticed a multitude of smaller blood stains all over his right side.

“Jesus, Jon, what did you land on, a pile of cutlery?” you asked, more concerned than anything else.

“Well it might as well have been.” he grumbled, quickly glancing over to the, now, broken table he had landed on.

“Right, well, let’s get you patched up.” you said, lightly tugging on his arm.

“Oh, there’s no need, honestly-” He protested before you cut him off.

“-Jonathan, there is a massive gash on your arm. Now come on, I have a first aid kit at my place.” you began leading him to the main exit.

“A-at your place?” he froze in his tracks.

“Yeah? What’s with the shocked face?” you looked back at him.

“You know I don’t bite, right?” you grinned at him. You said your goodbyes and thanked Mrs. Cobblepot for your invitation before dragging him off despite his insistence that he could just ignore it until the party was over and sort it himself.

“Look, you’ve made it clear that you don’t like it when I help but-”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I… I just didn't want to trouble you, that’s all!” That answer came a little too fast for you to fully believe it but you thought it would be best to drop the subject as it clearly flustered him.

As the two of you walked out into the warm summer night you loosened your grip on his upper-arm and let your hand glide down his arm and wrap around his wrist, not daring to go the full mile and hold his hand, though you could swear you saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes as you did. As the two of you stepped into the parking lot and found your car, Scarecrow cleared his throat.

“[Name]?” he glanced over at you as he got into the passenger's side seat.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“It’s okay if I stay the night, innit’? It’s just that my hideout is on the other side of the city and it’s already really late-”

“Well as long as you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, then sure.” you said as you pulled out of the parking space and onto the main road.

“Cheers, luv.”

What followed after that was near miss with an oncoming truck and your face becoming a bright red colour as your brain temporarily short-circuited. You looked over to make sure Jonathan was alright, only to see him gripping onto the seat like his life depended on it.

“Jesus- if you don’t like me calling you that then you can just say so- Bloody hell!”

“It’s not that, it’s just-” Your brain was working at 100 mph trying to talk your way out of this because: God- did you love the way he called you that. Unfortunately for you, he quickly caught on and was going to give you hell.

“Oh so you like me calling you ‘luv’, then?” The corners of his mouth curled up into a smirk as he noticed the massive blush on your face.

“Wh- no- that’s not what I meant!”

“Sure thing, luv.” His smirk had turned into an ear-to-ear grin as he saw your face turn an even darker shade of red. This just elicited a loud, frustrated groan from you.

“I swear to God- do you want me to crash this car!” you snapped at him, smacking your hand off the steering wheel, which was only met with laughter as you yelled a string of expletives.

“You wouldn’t do that.” he stated, still giggling to himself.

“What makes you so sure of that?” You scoffed but you couldn’t deny the way your heart sped up when you saw the dorkiest grin on his face.

“You care about me.” He teased, resting his head on the back of his hands.

“Shut up.” You lightly punch his shoulder.

You tried to cover up the growing smile on your face with your free hand but failed as Jonathan noticed and pulled your hand down from your face, unintentionally encasing your hand in his. It took you both a while to realize it but once you did his hands immediately shot back to his sides and didn’t look at you for the rest of the car journey instead opting to twiddling his thumbs.

“We’re here.” you called, snapping him out of his daze.

You stepped out of your car and into the apartment block. Seeing as you were both still in costume, you darted for the elevator and hit the button. As the elevator began its ascension you took this opportunity to take a breather, knowing you would have to leg it to your apartment at the very end of the hallway lest someone see you and call the police. You sighed and leaned against the railing while looking at your reflection in the mirror but you couldn’t help noticing the way Scarecrow straightened the noose around his neck as if it was a tie. For fucks sake, if this keeps up you might just lose it. He met your gaze in the mirror and grinned at you.

“I mean, if you want to watch you can just look at me, it’s less creepy.” he chuckled but suddenly stopped as he winced in pain and grabbed his arm. You straightened yourself and rushed to his side. Luckily, you’d reached your floor and as the doors opened you grabbed Jonathan by the wrist and led to your apartment. You quickly looked around before inserting your key into the door, as you fumbled with the key, Jonathan remained eerily quiet compared to his usual gossipy self. You finally got the door to open and the two of you walked into the empty apartment. You felt about for the lightswitch and eventually found it.

“You go sit down, I’m just going to get the first aid from the bathroom.” you gesture towards the couch and walk off. You rummaged around for a bit, eventually finding it at the very back of the cupboard, you checked it’s contents to make sure you had the right stuff. You made your way into the living room and found Jonathan holding a book you’d left out on the coffee table earlier. He looked up at you and then the first aid kit in your hands.

“Right.” you started, taking out a few bandages. “Show me your arm.” After a few minutes of struggling he managed to roll up his sleeve and outstretched it to you. You gently took his hand and sat down next to him. You, deciding that it was probably best to treat the biggest cut first, took out an antiseptic wipe and lightly dabbed the wound Jonathan winced at this but a soft smile from you seemed to help.

“[name]?” He took a deep breath.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for looking out for me. I know I can be… difficult at times -but I really appreciate you dragging me here instead of leaving me to bleed out at the party.” he laughed nervously and averted his gaze from you.

“You're probably one of the closest friends I’ve ever had.” his voice cracked slightly.

You slightly cringed at the word ‘friends’, well, I suppose you better get comfy in the friend-zone. He swallowed and returned his arm to his side before continuing.

“A-and I’d like to be more than that-” he sputtered, beginning to fiddle with the ends of his noose.

“You… would?” you looked up at him, your heart feeling like it would burst out of your chest if it beated any faster than it already was.

“Yes.” he grabbed your hands and put them between his.

“I like you- a lot! I like your eyes, your face, the way you always know how to make me laugh” he snapped out of his daze.

“-But, I mean if you don’t feel the same way I completely understand, actually on second thought this was a horrible idea and you probably don’t so I’ll just leave and save you the trouble of kicking me out, like you should-” you could hardly keep up with the word vomit coming out of his mouth as he shot out of his seat.

“I’m sorry, I’ve probably wasted your time ‘cause you probably only see me as a friend and I’ve most likely just ruined our friendship so I’ll just leave and I swear you’ll never have to see me again so-” he made a break for the door but you quickly yanked on his wrist which almost caused him to fall backwards.

He caught himself just in time but was beginning to wish he’d just fallen to the floor instead as he realized he was using you to support himself and had wrapped his arms around your neck. He tried to push himself away, only for you to snake your arms behind his waist and trap him there. You could practically feel the warm air of his breath on you skin as he panted, you could feel yourself melting into his arms and did not stop him as he squeezed you tight. After a few moments, you managed to sit him back onto the couch.

“I want to be more than friends too.” you spoke softly, not missing the ear-to-ear grin on Jonathan’s face.

You leaned onto him, your head resting on his shoulder, he froze up for a split-second before wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

“So, how far off was I?”

“Hmm?” you looked up at him.

“Remember earlier? When I said I saw you giving me looks?”

You gave an exasperated sigh and smirked.

“Was it Bane or TwoFace who had to point it out to you?”

“Both.” he answered with a slight laugh.

“But you’re not denying it!”

“Why would I, you were doing the exact same thing?” you scoffed, giving him a light punch on the arm.

“Oww- okay, okay, fair point.” he laughed as he pulled you back close to him, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes and behind your ear.

“Y’know, if you were anyone else I would’ve killed you” you only half-joked, tracing shapes with your fingers onto his chest.

“I know” he laughed, placing a hand under your chin and lightly lifting it so you two were making eye-contact.

“-And that's what I lo-” he cut himself off. “I mean, like about you” he smiled sheepishly.

You only smiled before cupping his face and pulling him closer.

“I love you too, you fucking dork” you chuckled before leaning in and kissing him.

He practically jumped out his skin when you did, but as the realization sunk in he wrapped both arms around you and kissed back, eyes fluttering shut. His lips pressed softly against yours, as one of his hands travelled up your back and cupped the back of your head. The kiss itself was very soft and didn’t last too long, maybe only a couple of seconds, but to you it felt like an eternity. Your lips finally parted when you both were in desperate need for air, but that dazed look on his face made you want to do it all over again.

“You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that.” you smiled up at him.

“Same here” he added, before quickly pulling you back in for another kiss.

#harley quinn 2019 #scarecrow #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #dc comics x reader #harley quinn 2019 scarecrow

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herstarburststories · 4 years ago

Text

Home in a Motel Pool

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean and you have some fun in the motel's pool.

A/N: This one took a little longer than I thought, but here it's! Wet Dean in motel pool for us. So canon compliant of me, I know I know. This piece is my submission for @deanwanddamons 's 1st Blogiversary and 2K follower celebration with the prompt in bold. Congrats again, honey! And it's also my part for @anaelsbrunette 's YAS’S POC READER CHALLENGE with the song Home by Depeche Mode. Thanks for the extra time and the marvelous challenge!

Warnings: sex in the pool, p in v, dirty talk

Hunting was brutal. Even when the hunters won, it was a victory with no triumph-- there would be someone dead, always a corpse and loved one weeping as a reminder that you and the Winchesters couldn’t save everyone. You’d come around the town, tell the folks what they wanted to hear to get some information, kill the thing, and luckily save a person or two. It was a page from the emptiest stage, a show for a crowd of three: you, Sam, and Dean. Their own critics and praisers, doctors and patients, sinners and saints.

And if your hands were melted and molded into killing machines, you better pray for your heart to be made of anything but gold. That job didn't leave space or time for tenderness. In order to hunt the prey, you must become ferocious. Attack anything on sight, sing to the loneliest sound that’s the gunshot in the dark, pretend that you’ll make amends only to end up befriending the glorious end of the line that often came too soon.

Thing is, it wasn’t just about that. It would be easier if it was all about perfect soldiers and ultimate killers. A black and white world stained with crimson red would be the ideal, but there were always more colors.

Certainly, it wasn’t the most illustrious job one could get. If anything, it was unfair and underpaid and the seed of violence. Every hunter happened to do things they never could speak about, and all the blood got so normalized to the point red is just the color that pointed you were doing it right. like a good grade or a father’s head pat. Where was the seat on the table for any gentless to sit down in the chaos? In the thankful hugs from the mothers of the rescued children, in the pranks the boys came up with against each other for no other reason but childish nostalgia, in the nights where the three of you stopped and sat on Baby’s hood to watch the stars in silence, in the way Dean’s tough hands touched your cheek so lovingly, in the smell of the Impala’s wheels burning against the streets. Summarizing, when saving people wasn’t reasoning enough, kindness appeared glistening in the middle of the pandemonium, as a paragon of something good in cruelty.

Just like this moment.

‘’My body aches in places I didn’t even know that could hurt.’’ You groaned as you got out of the classic black car, hand on the back of your neck to apply some pressure. Even being thrown against a wall by some demon hurt less than sleeping in the backseat-- sweet mundane problems.

Sam scoffed before adding insult to injury, ‘’At least you were sleeping and didn’t have to hear the same cassette three times.’’

‘’Quit whining, you two. I was the one driving through two states.’’ Dean said in a huff, swirling the keys as the three of you walked towards Bonita Motel’s entrance. He placed an arm around your waist, his own way of showing affection in quietude. Your hand slipped inside his leather jacket’s pocket. ‘’Sides’, Baby’s backseat is comfortable and Zeppelin is awesome.’’

The youngest Winchester refrained his response to an eye roll and a mumble among the lines not when played three times in a row. You, though, turned your head to the side and offered your stubborn boyfriend a cynical smile.

‘’I prefer a bed.’’

He aimed at you with his signature lopsided grin, the one he knew that you loved, while you passed through the main door of the establishment. ‘’That’s not what you said last week.’’

‘’Guys, limits.’’ Sam pleaded, shaking his head at Dean’s comment before turning around. He made a chatter that quickly got old with the woman behind the counter, gaining two keys. The long haired hunter tossed one at his brother, who quickly grabbed it with his free hand.

‘’This is a good motel…’’ You commented as the three walked upstairs, the gleaming blue sight caughting your brown eyes. Your whole body shone as if it was really a beach and not only a cheap motel’s pool. Dean and Sam had never gone to the beach, but you grew up with salt aired weekends, a collection of swimsuits, and a loud family on the sand. You missed the sensation of being held by the ocean so dearly. It wouldn’t be the same, nothing was after you jumped in Dean’s Impala in New York; hustling for some other life, a better one like your parents when they came to the United States. Yet, a pool could be diverting and cozy. Pulling away from your man’s hold, you approached the small chlorine miracle.

‘’There’s a pool!’’ You pointed out, as excited as a kid in a carnival. ‘’We should take a swim.’’

‘’You guys go. I have some research to do.’’ Sam nodded at the pool with his head, denying the request with a sleight of hand as he opened the lock of the room 209. ‘’Have fun, kids.’’

The green eyed man clicked his tongue when his brother disappeared with the craike of a door. He wasn’t exactly against the idea of jumping in the pool - apart from the germes, but his paranoia wouldn’t mind that much, not after trying endless motel’s bathtubs. The drive here had just been too long. Besides, if that crap motel had a well-cleaned pool, it probably had vibrating beds. He could use a massage. ‘’I think I’ll get crash in bed.’’

You arched an eyebrow. ‘’Didn’t you say that Baby’s backseat was comfortable to sleep?’’

‘’How taller than you I am, sweetheart?’’ He smirked as you walked back to him like you always did, your own north star in shape of a magnetic force of a man,

‘’Shush.’’ You slapped his chest playfully, wrapping your arms around Dean’s neck. ‘’Come on. Most motels we go to barely have a door, much less a pool. I miss going swimming. It’s a sunny day…’’ The childish joy in your tone metamorphosed into a newfound malice. ‘’You’ll get to see me in a bikini.’’

The Winchester wiggled his messy brows at your statement, suddenly reinvigorated as he placed his arms around your waist to bring you closer. Forget the body ache and all that, that was a way better reason to be sore in the bones later. ‘’You made some good points.’’

‘’I always do.’’ You kept the adamant tone, even when you could feel his breath on your cheek, those green eyes so livid when looking at you. God, you had to put a period here before things escalated and you two ended up getting to right in the middle of the hall. You attempt to make a joke: ‘’Darling it’s better, down where it’s wetter.’’

He knew it was a prompt from The Little Mermaid-- you two had watched two days ago in Tupelo, in a vintage television after killing a Ghoul, while Sam got some junk food. Yet, the kind of smile that brought to his face held anything but purity. A simple conversation became double-edged with Dean Winchester. You two often ended up breathless, either from fighting or from doing more entertaining dances. You should’ve seen that one coming.

‘’I know another wet spot.’’ He’d say, unholy significance trapped in each word as his right hand started to motion over your skin, guiding his greedy finger under your skirt. Your mouth was set in a grim line, a surprisingly determinate attempt to hold back a moan. You and Dean could do it in the pool, unite the good infant memories with the tent-like emotions of adulthood to make a grand deal.

‘’You’ll get all of me wet.’’ You kissed the corner of his lips, smoothly pulling away with a wink. So much self control. ‘’Hurry up, cowboy.’’

You grabbed your bag and rushed to room 208 to change your clothes, leaving an astonished, mildly turned on Winchester behind. Getting in the bathroom, which didn't stink for once, you swiftly changed into the bikini. A jade green one, directly from Brazil’s brand Cia Maritma. If you squint your eyelids hard enough, you could still put a name to each face that was with you when you wore it for the first time in the calmer days. All the long gone friends and the daily sunbath in your caramel skin.

Decided to leave the past well enough alone, you just smiled in melancholy and turned around, facing your reflex in the mirror. You looked hot. Dean surely would agree about that, especially with the way the top brought up your breast.

Arriving in the room to your boyfriend ready for the swim, you couldn’t help checking him out. You were attracted to the way the righteous man’s body was built since the first glance, addicted since the first touch. His shoulder, the freckles on his nose, and the way he wasn’t all defined, yet had the muscles right in the certain spots. You took off your hairpin, hair falling on your shoulder into a brown sea, like the waves crashing against the ocean rocks. The smell of your sweat and orange monopolizing the edges of everywhere, mainly Dean’s senses. He relished on how soft your skin was compared to his, how your accent tingled his insides, and the way you swing your hips while walking. Your boobs almost jumping at his face because of the tiny bikini only aroused him more.

The place had to get some credit. For a dive motel, it was more than they’d picture. Manageable bathrooms and safe locks, the pool glimmering blue with a small tree by the right side. It was gorgeous.

A dazzling breeze whispered through your bodies, causing you to shiver slightly and Dean to get sweet smelling sheets clinging to his knees and feet. Fucking tree. You could taste the friction swallowing the atmosphere, a report of what was near.

Before you could say anything, Dean grumbled as he pokes a leaf away. ‘’It’s gonna rain.’’

‘’It will.’’ You agreed, holding his hand to pull him closer, well-aware that your body would scare away any linger of adorable grumpiness. ‘’But who cares about raining when you’re in a pool?’’

It's the kind of question that doesn't need an answer, it briefly exists to make Dean distracted in wonder just now, a pause between seconds as you jump in the pool first. The water splashing around with a brutal sound. Your body seems to recall an old memory, how you made a lark of anything with your siblings in the sea, how you used to feel like the beaches were a peculiar way of God to show the living how his touch would feel like. Every fiber of your body missed this.

Dean went in too, emerging to the marvelous sound of your laugh. He glanced at you, now less of a hunter and more of a man. The drops on your face could easily be confused with tears, yet the way you grinned and threw water at him couldn’t leave space for any other world but happiness. The Winchester often noticed your longing for cultural things that you no longer had in the palm of your hand. It was stupid, he even felt somehow resposible for taking you away of everything you ever knew only to coaxe you through the road not taken— full of bumps and blood and undecked halls. Then you’d smile, you’d wrap your arms around him like you were doing in that exact moment, and he would see that the drops all over your face are flickering with your chortle.

What other choice would Dean have, what other option could he ever make himself pick, if not to place his hands on your hips? So it goes. He put his rough hand on your, each tender touch seeming to make the bruises there clear up.

The hunter was leaning in to kiss you as a wave of water met his face.

‘’Ops!’’

He narrowed his eyes, spilling out the water. ‘’You are gonna pay for this.’’

‘’I’d like to see you try, Kansas boy.’’

Yeah, you once were raised in the water, such an important part of your identity which you didn't wish to lose, yet slowly slipped beyond your reaches. But you had Dean, you had adventure, and you had the motel’s shitty pool. If you could find contentment in that, you should know that who you were wasn’t lost. You were still the five years old who played in the plastic pool, the seventeen girl who grabbed your cellphone’s lantern and went looking for what was making a noise at 3am, the twenty years old who jumped in a car with two hunters and a craving for finding her true home. You were all of them at once.

Heaven sent the only true friend you could call yours and you’re under his lips. Dean’s crashing his mouth with yours, hungry like an animal after your playful war. You two are soaked, and so is your pussy. He pressed your against the border of the pool, your back to the wall of it. The water rushes in and you couldn’t care less. When did a bikini start to look like too much clothing?

Breaking the kiss, the Winchester glanced at you. The green of all the wild gardens localized in his orbs, dappled with stars and desire. Waiting for his touches, enjoying when he took his time with you was always worthwhile. Today, though, you needed him fast and dirty and raw.

There was nothing you'd rather than spread your legs, so you did it. Dean’s smart fingers quickly ripping your panties and brushing against your heat. He let out an annoyed huff, missing the satisfaction of your wetness around his digitals, how he knew you were a mess for him and him only. The pool’s water didn’t let it much evident, he’d have to fuck you even harder, make sure you were still needy for his cock.

You whined, clinging to his touch with a swing of hips. His hand covering your pussy as Dean applied some pressure, savoring the way your body winced and your eyes shut close, a beautiful moan leaving your lips. He couldn’t wait to eat you out later after he made you come in this stupid pool. Hedonism made his blood thicker-- like he was a calm sea before you, and now his waters were violent and hungry for destruction.

He pulled his hand away. ‘’Dean…’’

‘’Don’t worry, sweetheart.’’ His throbbing cock entered you, voice even deeper as he spoke. ‘’Gonna give you what you want.’’

You placed your legs around his waist and he held your thighs underwater, the sky spilling out its own water above. It didn’t stop two. Your hand on his shoulders, nails sinking in seemed to be a combustible for Dean to go harder inside of your. His hips attacking yours as his mouth kissed your neck with bites.

‘’Dean, please.’’ You pleaded, warm walls squeezing his long dick. ‘’More.’’

‘’All my cock is for you, honey. You get all of it, fucking you, scratching you open.’’ The eldest Winchester said, his voice so low and sensual. You could come only from his talking. ‘’That’s what you want, huh? You want me to fuck that pretty cunt, mark you up inside this shitty pool.’’ His digital reached your clint and you growled. Dean kept his dick inside you, unable to pull away from the heavenly sensation of being inside you. ‘’Wanna know something? I can’t wait to come inside that tight pussy right here.’’

He increased the rhythm, pounding you even faster and rougher as you tried to keep up, the lack of synchrony causing his cock to reach and pull inimaginable pleasures inside you, all turning more brutal and necessary. The pool had its own waves, your and Dean’s movements causing a chaos ocean chaos in it.

The heat and the sickliest, you were drowning in pleasure with each thrust to a desperate beat that his heart echoed. All your pretty noises tangled with his breathless howls. The rain’s drops becoming one water with the pool as you and him became one with your intertwined bodies, only to grow apart again and come back in need for more.

Your and your lover’s figures distorted on the reflex of the pool water, washing away any piece left of purity as you moved in a hurry when you finally reached your orgasm. Your cunt tightening around his hardness was too much to bear, making Dean come after you.

He rested his forehead against yours, breathless faces with closed eyelids darting together. The heat calmed down by the water. Dean dared to look at you, but not to pull away. His cock remained inside your tight cunt and he caressed your cheek gently. That woman pounded from within and is pinning him down to earth, like you are his own gravity, the glimpse of relief, the lover’s photographe that gives the soldier’s battle a meaning.

‘’There’s a saying in my country.’’ You said suddenly, opening your brown eyes as he lifted his head to greet yours with his forest ones.

Dean captured your small nose, your desirable lips, your big eyes, your gorgeous tan skin, the signals he had map of on his lips. His thumb still stroked your face as his cock took its time to weaken inside your pussy. ‘’Yeah? What’s it?’’

‘’Quem está na chuva é pra se molhar.’’ He arched his eyebrows, a silent request for an english version. The Winchester knew around ten words in your mothertongue. Half pet names, half cussing. You pecked his plump lips. ‘’There's no literal translation, some things just lose their core if you try to put them to another language. It would be like if you are in the rain you want to get wet. It would be another way to say if you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen.’’

‘’I gotta say, you look pretty hot when you say those things.’’ You smirked. You rolled your eyes playfully, fingernails tenderly fondling the back of Dean’s neck under his haircut. ‘’Do you miss it?’’

‘’My country?’’

‘’Yeah. Not just your country but your language, your friends, your life there.’’ He shrugged, secretly scared of the answer. ‘’It’s not like we go to the same places you used to go to. I see how many bikinis you carry around.’’

Which was the main reason he booked that motel. You didn’t need to know that. The childish joy you had with the surprise was enough for his credit.

‘’No. Well, I still speak my language when I’m mad at you.’’ Dean chuckled. Whenever you two got in a heated argument, your inner latina would come out and jump at him in both languages at once. It was supposed to be serious, but mostly got him all hot and bothered. Your accent was just too sexy, especially when you were angry. ‘’But no, not really. I miss situations and people, but not how it was. It was a good life, but it wasn’t the one I was supposed to have.’’ You pulled him to you by his neck. ‘’I thank you, you know? For bringing me here. For showing me home, Even for the tears and the fear. I finally I’ve found where I belong.’’

Tranquility engulfed the atmosphere momentarily as comfortable as a silent sleeper, the rain no longer coming, giving stage to a sunny sky. You and Dean, twisted together like that was all serenity you could relish on. You both quiet in the afterglow, his cock no longer hard but neither wanted to pull away. He laid his head on your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck. He certainly would bring you to a beach as soon as he could, maybe pop the pretty question on his knees there. For now, thought, he could enjoy thar simple moment.

‘’After my house was burned to the ground, I didn’t think I’d have another one. I was always rolling around the country, never really stayed in a place for too long. I didn’t want to call some random walls my home and have it destroyed in my face again.’’ Dean said, his thumbs caressing your thighs underwater. Since his first breath near you, he knew he was a goner. Even better, he knew he wasn’t a goner, a nomad, or a lonely wolf anymore. Dean Winchester once swore he would never come back home after what happened in there, and then you appeared. The hot latina who kept up with his stupidity and didn’t think twice before calling him out on his bullshit, and was always there for him and actually loved him-- not besides the job, but with all the things being a hunter included, all the ugly acts he had to go through. You believed he was good and worthy. His house burned, but you gave him a home. For the first time in so long, Dean felt warm and happy and loved. ‘’But you gave me a home. Without the apple pie life and all that. You, me, and Sammy-- fighting the good fight, just the three of us. This is my home.’’

To be a hunter was to be gauge of the deadliest trap ever laid, always carrying the heaviest cross ever made like a soldier’s duty that wouldn’t end with a couple years of trocious war. This treacherous slope was forevermore. A hunter life, all the fraunds and the paid phone calls and the running away with laughs empty of joy, the song from the wrong side of town. But fuck, all the saving and the excitment and the hustled love made a dance for the melody and suddenly it was worth it. All the tender parts, the new restaurants every week, the jokes in the car, the hidden chortles in the dark places. Sam. Dean. Dean and all this am out of love and loyalty he gave to you.

Everything was worth it to be in his arms.

He brought you back home.

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mrs-gucci · 4 years ago

Note

There seems to be a darker, more violent take on Clyde floating around right now and I LOVE it!! I’m working on one for him too!

Since you say open for darker requests, I’d love to hear your take on a more violent Clyde! He could be saving you from a stalker. Clyde can show him what a real bad ass can do and then show you how well he can treat you too lol! He could be protecting you from someone at the bar. He could be showing you his special forces skills after some gets aggressive. You name it lol!

Secrets of the Blood Moon {werewolf!Clyde x Reader darkfic}

author's notes: helloooo! my friend shannon, thank you for this request!! I am also a fan of the darker take on Clyde and I hope I did it some justice!! I worked really, really hard on this one, and I’m super pleased with how it turned out.

**PLEASE HEED THE DARKFIC WARNING!! THIS FIC INVOLVES SEVERAL VERY HEAVY AND VERY DARK THEMES, SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!**

warnings: angst. smut. hurt/comfort. a minor car crash. mentions of alcohol consumption. rut. knotting. breeding kink. werewolf stuff. attempted mating bite. murder coverup. clyde feels guilty.

tw's: noncon touching (not by clyde). involuntary attempted sexual assault (werewolf clyde pins her down & dry humps w/o consent, but human clyde doesn’t know he did it nor would ever intend to do it). blood & gore. graphic depictions of murder and violence. human-hunting. depictions of human body consumption (is it cannibalism if he’s technically a wolf when it happens?). werewolf sex.

**this is a work of FICTION. the author does not attempt to condone the actions/behaviors of the characters written.**

word count: 5.9k

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea @gildedstarlight (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

Last Night

Stepping out of your car, you’re instantly suffocated by the thick humidity of the West Virginia evening. The sun paints cotton candy across the sky as it sets behind the trees on the mountainous horizon, the almost full moon hot on its tail, slowly rising on the other side of the sky.

The blood moon comes tomorrow, and from the old folk tales your mom used to tell about the deep West Virginia countryside, some weird shit goes down under the crimson moon. You never really believed her. What all could happen in lil ol’ Boone County, anyway?

The moment you step into the refreshing, air-conditioned Duck Tape, you’re immediately greeted by a loud call of your name.

“Y/N!” You smile and wave at Jimmy.

Clyde looks up and smiles at you as you come and sit down at the bar next to Jimmy. He serves the customer before coming over to talk with you and the eldest Logan.

You lean over the bar to give him a kiss, earning a couple hoots and hollers from the bar crowd, which made you both laugh as you pull away.

“How was work, buttercup?” He asks, wiping off some glasses. “Weren’t ya doin’ that one presentation today? How’d that go?”

You’re always so flattered that Clyde actually pays attention when you talk about work stuff. Most guys just smile and nod, but Clyde actually listens and remembers. He even remembered your one year anniversary at the company you currently work for, sending you takeout from your favorite place along with some flowers.

“Yeah, it was alright. Boring as hell, but the partners seemed pleased, so that’s all I can really ask for at this point.”

Both he a Jimmy give a small chuckle, nodding before Clyde mixes your favorite drink, setting it down in front of you a few minutes later. You thank him, and the three-way conversation continues before the bar door swings open.

Something about the man’s entrance makes you look over, already smelling trouble as he steps over the threshold. His eyes are glued on you, a smug smirk etched on his expression.

A hush falls over the patrons for a few seconds, all eyes on the leather-clad man. Clyde’s hackles are immediately up, body tense as the mystery man saunters over, plopping himself down onto the vacant stool next to yours.

Things on the floor continue as normal, the chatter picking back up, and you subtly scoot a little closer to Jimmy.

“Bartender?” A thick New York accent calls.

Clyde walks over, plastering a fake smile on his face, seemingly the epitome of southern hospitality.

“What can I getcha, sir?”

The man gives Clyde a once-over and snickers. “No, seriously, where’s the bartender? I’d like a drink.”

Your grip clenches around your glass. You absolutely hated it when people were dicks about Clyde’s hand.

“Seriously, I am the bartender.” He states firmly. “So, what can I get ya?”

His tone sends a chill down your spine. Normally, Clyde just shuts down whenever someone starts poking fun at his missing hand, but tonight, there was a certain air of frustration, of dominance.

You just thought he’d finally cracked, after years of dealing with this bullshit. But as you would learn, there was an alternate explanation for his sudden outwardly alpha-like behavior.

The guy seems to back off a little bit, just asking for a cold Coors straight from the bottle. You startle a bit when Clyde slams the bottle down on the counter in front of him, and you could swear his eyes turn a light grey for a second before returning to the dark brown pools you’re familiar with.

Everything’s quiet for a little while, the man sipping his beer in silence, before he turns to you. He doesn’t say anything at first, simply allowing his eyes to drink in your seated figure.

“What’s your name, baby girl?” The beer smell of his breath is strong as he leans in. “You lookin’ for someone to keep you company tonight?”

You roll your eyes. Douchebag. “Nope. I’m perfectly content just sitting here, thanks.”

Clyde’s watching the interaction like a hawk as he makes someone’s drink. It’s a wonder he can concentrate on the drink when his thoughts and eyes are glued to you.

His slimy hand touches down on your bare thigh, just above your knee, and you jump in your seat. He grins, trailing it up as he leans in even closer.

“Are you sure? I could show you a real good time...”

Glass shatters from behind the bar and then, Clyde’s grabbing the man by his biker jacket, tossing him onto the floor with an almost superhuman strength. You stand up, appalled, as the man on the hardwood scrambles to get up.

An icy grey begins to frost over his sweet chocolate irises as Clyde clenches his fists by his side.

“Don’t ya dare touch ma girl, ye pervert.” He growls, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. “Someone ought to show ya what respect looks like.”

The bar has fallen pin-drop silent, all sets of eyes focused in on the developing scene. He cocks his fist above his head, snarling as he readies to pounce on the helpless man.

It’s then that Jimmy hops up and puts himself between the two men, holding his hands up in front of Clyde. “Don’t do this t’ yerself. Ye know what’ll happen if ya do.”

This seems to bring him back, the warmness flooding back to his irises. His shoulders slump as he huffs softly, pushing past his older brother angrily, storming into his office and slamming the door behind him.

Shakily, the man stands and puts a twenty down on the table before running out of the bar, bell jingling against the wooden door as it eases shut after him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rare blood moon hangs in its place against the pitch black sky as you pull up to the Logan’s trailer home. There aren’t any stars in the clear night’s sky, despite it being the dead of summer, but you don’t think much of it as you approach the shadowed porch.

Moths flutter around the dimly flickering porch light while you peek through the windows, which were as black as the night. Not a single light was on.

Odd. The Pontiac’s parked in its normal spot outside.

You flip the threadbare ‘welcome’ mat up, revealing the rusting gold key beneath. Sticking it in the lock, you turn until the door pops open, an eerie creak accompanying it.

"Clyde?” You say, looking around the trailer’s living room as you flip the living room lights on.

You call for him again. Maybe he’s just taking a nap. “Clyde?”

Still no response.

Now, you’re getting worried. There’s no note, nothing noticeably out of place; in fact, it’s almost all too still. It gives you the creeps, how still and quiet it is in here.

The scent of suspicion thickens the air around you, and you just get the most awful feeling in your gut that something bad is happening or is about to happen.

Adrenaline begins to pump through your veins as you quickly walk around, peeking in the kitchen, and in the spare room. The air seems to thicken again the closer to draw to Clyde’s room, and you push the door open with bated breath.

You’re absolutely mortified at the sight before you.

Shreds of carpet, fabric, and mattress stuffing is scattered the floor, and giant claw marks have torn straight through the drywall. The blankets and comforter, at least the remains of them, are disheveled where they lay across the clawed-up mattress.

His vanity mirror is almost fully shattered, and the products that once sat atop are now tossed across the floor. The chilly summer’s night air flutters the curtains on the opened window above the bed.

The first thought that comes to mind is a bear attack of some kind. Now fully freaking out, you’re wondering how in the world a bear got into the trailer, and why it only seemed to attack Clyde’s room. You scramble to grab your phone from your purse with shaky hands, dialing Jimmy’s number in haste.

Was this one of the blood moon enigmas mom warned about? No, no, bear attacks are pretty common around here.

It takes a few rings before he picks up.

“Y/N?” He sounds out of breath, exhausted.

“Jimmy, hey. Do you know where Clyde is? I’m at the trailer, and--”

Something that sounds like a growl rips through the speaker, followed by a woman’s voice.

“Is everything oka--”

“Mellie, I can’t help ya right now! I’ll be there in a second!” He yells in the background. “Sorry Y/N, you were sayin’ somethin’?”

“No, it’s alright. I’m just at the trailer, and I peeked into Clyde’s room...”

“Ya didn’t touch anything, did ya?” His voice is rushed.

You shake your head, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh, no, but--”

The growl comes again, louder this time, and it almost sounds like it’s...a voice. A very deep and very animalistic one, but a voice nonetheless. And it was saying something, although you couldn’t really hear clearly enough.

“Jimmy, do you know where Clyde is?” You’re getting a little impatient.

“Don’t worry ‘bout Clyde, he’s okay, he’s, uhh, here with us.”

“Oh, uh, o-okay.”

But tonight was supposed to be your special night together.

“Y/N? Listen real close, now. I need ya to get outta the trailer and go home, right now. Don’t linger, and refrain from touchin’ anything in the trailer. Lock all yer doors n’ close all the windows when ya get back home, okay? ‘N don’t go outside for the rest’a the night.”

Okay, now you’re starting to get fearful. “What--”

“Jimmy!” Mellie’s panicked voice comes through the phone speaker again, this time a bit clearer. He curses under his breath.

Her cries clearly rattled the eldest Logan, and he quickly tells you to just do what he said and then hangs up in a frantic state.

You’re frozen for a moment, but then you quickly scurry outside to your car, frantically looking around as you scramble to fit the key in the driver’s side door. By some miracle, you hold your hand steady enough to unlock it, quickly shutting the door and turning on the engine, peeling out of there like a madwoman.

Suddenly, as you go to pull out of the driveway, a strange apparition appears at the edge of the wood across the street. You squint, trying to figure out what the hell it is. Whatever it is, though, it’s panting heavily and looks...inhuman.

It’s standing on two legs, but its large, probably almost seven feet tall if you had to guess, and must’ve had some type of black fur or skin since it almost blends in with the darkened forest.

The reddish light of the moon is the only light that reflects upon this mystery creature, before it seems to notice your car idling in the driveway. The crisp light grey pupils seemingly glimpse into your soul as the creature looks upon you.

Clearly, now, you can decipher what exactly it is, although you’re in utter shock and skeptical to think it real: A werewolf.

You quickly put the car in reverse, slamming down on the gas, flying backwards for a few seconds before colliding with the trailer’s tin wall. Your head slams forward onto the steering wheel, trickles of blood dribble down your forehead and nose as your consciousness is lost.

When you come to, only a few minutes later, you groan as the welt forms on your forehead. You look around, groggily, seeing that your car is in drive but isn’t moving. Surely when you’d passed out, your foot would’ve come off the brake and you would’ve rolled away...

Stepping out carefully, you find that some bricks have been placed in front of all four tires, effectively keeping the car at a dead standstill.

Who in the world did this?

Then, you turn your head and walk slowly around to the front of your car, seeing the remnants of sharp teeth marks on your bumper. You’re frozen, a lump slowly crawling up your throat as the realization hits.

A low growl comes from behind you, and your worst fears have suddenly been realized. You slowly, carefully spin around on your heels, afraid that one wrong move may make you tonight’s surprise entree.

Your eyes meet the soul-piercing grey’s of the werewolf, the one you’d seen at the edge of the forest minutes earlier. The one that seemingly saved your life, but...how did a werewolf know what to do?

As you continue to gaze at the large being before you, you’re struck with a sense of familiarity, almost as if you’d met them before. Strange, because you can’t recall ever encountering a werewolf. Hell, you’ve never even seen a wolf before, other than in pictures. Surely you’d remember coming into contact with a seemingly impossible biological phenomenon such as this one.

His presence is scarily comforting, and you find yourself briefly wondering what it’d feel like to be enveloped in his woolen arms. Well, arm, technically speaking. This particular werewolf seems to be missing the lower half of his left paw.

Then, your mind connects the dots, and you’re shocked to your very core. It wasn’t a bear that attacked Clyde’s room, it was Clyde. This werewolf that’s standing before you is Clyde. That’s why Jimmy and Mellie sounded so frantic and breathless on the phone; they must’ve been trying to keep him contained.

But why? Werewolves usually recognize the important people in their human lives...right? That’s why he’d saved you from rolling off...

Your headlights’ reflection was speared by your figure, creating a shadow that covered most of Clyde’s form, except for the very tips of his paws, which had enormous claws emerging from beneath the thick layer of fur.

“Clyde?” You whisper, and he seems to soften for a moment, falling down on all threes.

Just as you swallow the lump in your throat and begin to cautiously approach the creature, hand outstretched to allow him to smell you, his eyes suddenly darken, the once snowy grey now more like the color of storm clouds.

He snarls, white teeth shining in the moon’s moody crimson-tinted reflection, and you immediately backtrack. Oh god, I’m fucked.

Your bottom collides with the front of your car, the engine thrumming lowly as it idles happily, grille warm from the machine inside. The headlights are now fully shining on the creature, fur shining under the bright lights as he approaches, lines of drool strung between his sharp fangs.

“C-Clyde, please,” You plead with the creature. “It’s m-me, Y/N, your g-girlfriend. You know m-me, you don’t w-wanna do t-this...”

It doesn’t seem to do much to dissuade him, the animal within now overshadowing the kind, gentle man you know and love. No, this creature is something else. This isn’t your Clyde.

The wolf stops short of the hood, where you’ve crawled up onto and are laying back, raising his nose up in the air, sniffing. You’re perplexed by this action, but it becomes evident when his ear prick and he says, in that same deep, animalistic voice that was in the background of your call with Jimmy,

“Mate.”

And then, he’s pouncing, trapping your hands above your head with his one arm while his legs scramble to find a good grip on the metallic surface of the car, hips rutting frantically.

His muzzle dips down, wet nose running along your jawline and neck, teeth scraping dangerously against your thin skin. He quickly settles on a spot behind your ear, growling as his pink tongue darts out to begin lapping at the spot.

You’re completely still, both physically restrained and unable to bring yourself to even try to move as the creature drags his fangs across the skin behind your ear. Your car is rocking back and forth with his hips’ violent movements, dragging his enormous cock against your lower stomach.

He pants into your ear, breath hot as he prepares to sink his sharp fangs into your tender skin, marking you as his forever...

“CLYDE!”

Jimmy’s voice pierces through the still of the night. Crickets stop chirping for a moment, and Clyde’s body stills. His head whips around, snarling at his brother.

Mellie’s right behind him, and she peers around him, trying to look at you. “Y/N, are ya alright?”

“YYYeah,” You manage, somehow. “I-I’m o-okay.”

Clyde hops down, all three feet planted on the ground, hackles up as Jimmy takes a step forward. “Mate.”

“She ain’t yer mate.” Jimmy says, calmly. He points to you. “Look at whatcha done to ‘er, Clyde. Would a mate look like that, huh? Look at ‘er, Clyde, she’s all beat up and scared outta her damn mind.”

The wolf visibly stands down, slowly turning his head to look back at you, seeing the scratches on your wrists and the marks on your neck. He sees the bit of wetness on your shirt and shorts, from his slick.

He hangs his head and begins to cry, whimpering and whining as he sprints off, surprisingly agile and quick for a wolf with three paws, across the road and back into the woods.

His blood’s boiling, he’s angry that he couldn’t defend you against Jimmy, mad that his alpha instincts had failed him. Even as a werewolf, one of the most powerful beings in the forest, he was still weaker than and overshadowed by his showboat older brother.

Loud barks of anger rip through him as he masterfully maneuvers through the forest, weaving through the trees, dodging thorns, leaping over the fallen tree trunks.

The sky suddenly begins to empty down onto Earth, the cool summer night’s rain a welcomed refreshment on Clyde’s fur. He looks up at the blood moon, huffing softly as he silently curses the orb for bringing this condition to him each full moon, as he did every single moon before this, and will continue to do with every one after.

He reaches his cave a few minutes later, stopping dead in his tracks when he smells smoke coming from inside. He’s on high alert, now, as he moves to peek into the cavern.

There, he finds a lone man sitting by a very small fire, rubbing his hands together over the heat. He’s clad in head-to-toe tree camo with a shotgun laying just out of arms reach.

This man’s scent feels awfully familiar, Clyde thinks, but it takes him a minute to figure out why. And, when he does remember, Clyde is suddenly not so sympathetic for the unwanted visitor in his cave.

The wolf’s mind falls to a certain memory from last night at Duck Tape. This is the jackass that thought he could get away with feelin’ you up. The one that poked plenty ‘a fun at his missing hand.

Clyde’s still-hard cock presses up against his furry stomach in excitement, tongue licking over his razor-sharp fangs. He couldn’t protect or avenge you last night, again due to Jimmy, but maybe he can now.

Jimmy ain’t gonna get in my way this time ‘round.

He can’t just come running into the entrance, no, that allows him too much time to grab the gun. He thinks, and thinks, until he remembers the connecting cave that he’d recently found on the last full moon. He bets he can get in there and creep up behind the man, do a sneak attack.

He’s salivating in anticipation as he bounds down to the opposite side of the cave, paws padding lightly against the soft gravelly dirt floor, trotting along carefully.

The man is none the wiser to the wolf’s presence, and the hum of the loud rain certainly wasn’t hurting. A loud crack of thunder suddenly rips through the forest, vibrating the ground. Clyde freezes briefly as the young man curls up further, chin resting in the gap between his knees.

Predatory instincts pumping through his veins at an all-time high, he crouches down as he stalks closer and closer to the unsuspecting body by the small fire. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, now right behind the man, moving in slow motion so as to not alert his victim.

When the time is right, just as the next clap of thunder rumbles the rocks, Clyde pounces. He grabs the man’s shirt, dragging him out of the cave with an unprecedented swiftness. The fire is extinguished with the tussle, leaving the cave shrouded in darkness, the shotgun laid abandoned on the ground where he’d put it.

He struggles against the wolf’s grip, fabric ripping violently the further his body’s dragged along. Clyde throws him out onto the forest floor, pawing at the ground like a wild stallion as the disheveled man scrambles to his feet.

His hands are shaky as he holds them up in front of him, as if trying to calm the creature like a domesticated dog. “E-Easy, easy.”

If he could, Clyde would’ve rolled his eyes at the man’s pathetic attempt to talk down at him. He snarls, watching in amusement at the way he startles and stumbles back.

Clyde’s got the man backed against the trunk of an old oak within seconds, and he stands up on two legs, glaring at the much smaller figure. He bares his teeth, a wolf’s version of a devilish grin.

“Run.”

It seems like the man is caught in between being shocked that this wolf just spoke English and being chilled to the core by his word. He sputters for a moment, brain smoking as it churns on overdrive, before his legs carry him as quickly as they can down the mountainside.

The wolf casually trots along after him, in very little rush to catch him. He’s throbbing hard now, the excitement translating into pure arousal. Clyde knows these woods like the back of his hand; there’s no where for this man to hide from his inevitable fate as the wolf-man’s next meal.

His head continuously whips around, meeting the grayish-white orbs tucked behind a thick coat of jet black fur. In a frenzy, he tucks himself behind a large tree, catching his breath.

Twigs snap in seemingly all directions, his breath heavy as his eyes flicker all around the dark, damp wood, the only light coming from the crimson-tinted orb above. He reaches back and wraps his arms around the tree’s trunk, panicked.

A low growl rattles his eardrums and he looks to the side, seeing the black creature right at his side. Clyde’s head snaps to the side, looking directly at his victim.

Crying out in fear, the man leaps forward to make a run for it, but is quickly taken to the dirt by the wolfish creature. The man squirms and screams out for mercy, for God, and Clyde knows what he has to do now.

He quickly sinks his teeth into the back of the mans neck repeatedly, effectively severing the spinal cord, leaving the man completely limp and defenseless. A quick and effective manner of disabling a victim, he’s learned through hunting animals, but keeps him just alive enough to see what’s being done to him.

Clyde flips the limp form over, now on his back, and his eyes are wide as he watches the wolf above him, black fur now stained red around the mouth, stare down at him with a hungry gaze.

His mouth opens, probably to beg for his life, but it’s too late. Fangs sink through his shirt and into the flesh of his chest, just above where his rapidly beating heart lay.

The thump-thump rhythm slows, then stops, the life leaving his body. Sweet copper tang coats the wolf’s tongue as the body is drained of its remaining energy.

There is little feeling better than watching the life slowly and steadily drain from the eyes of a victim, and suddenly, Clyde’s throbbing arousal has reached an almost unmanageable point.

But, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to devour his freshly-caught prey, especially while it’s still warm. So he digs in immediately, carving further into the hole over the heart he’d already created, ripping out the vital organ.

He holds it triumphantly between his teeth for a moment before setting it aside. His craving is more for the meat, he’s never been much of a fan of organs, so he gets to work separating the good meat from the corpse.

Once he’s done, he lifts his nose in the air, howling loudly. He’s never been this hard before, he swears it, and there’s only one person that can satisfy this urge:

You.

For a wolf on three legs, he reaches your house in record time. He can already feel the wolf-ness fading steadily, the human beginning to peek through the cracks. But, his rut doesn’t give at all, and he bounds up the steps and scratches at your door.

You’re startled by the noise, already a gut feeling you know who it is. When you open the door, Clyde’s wolf figure is sitting politely on your doormat. Should you let him in?

He pushes past, whimpering as he does so, before you can make a decision. You shut the door slowly before turning around to face the creature. He seems a bit different than when you saw him earlier, seeming a bit more human.

You stand against the door, back pressed up against it, looking down at the wolf in your living room.

“Y/N.” He breathes, huskily, attempting to ignore the hardness pressing up against his wooly stomach. “N-Need you. Please.”

He’s ashamed as he stands up on his hind legs, wrapping a clawed hand around his oozing cock, jutting his hips out as if to show off for you. The alpha in him needs to show you how suitable of a mate he is, what strong pups he can give you.

“It hhhhurts, b-buttercup.”

The battle going on inside him, animal versus human, is painfully evident on his expression. Your hearts been ripped in half as you watch him struggle with himself, the human trying to overpower the animal, and the animal trying to fight off the human. He doesn’t even know what he did to you earlier.

“What do you need from me, Clyde? I’m here to help you, honey, I’ll do whatever you need.”

His eyes widen in surprise, but its quickly replaced by a look of what can only be described as pure, primal hunger.

“Floor. A-All fours.” The wolf-man manages, desperately humping his hand to offer some relief. “G-Get the lube, ffffuuuck, I mmuhhmight hurt ya without it.”

You rush to get the lube, placing the tube next to you as you pull your leggings down, exposing your bare cunt. Clyde watches with an eager anticipation as you spread yourself for him.

As soon as you’re into position, he practically falls over on top of you, hips rutting uncontrollably as he smoothes lube over his drooling cock and lines up with your entrance.

“B-Buttercup, I...I’m sssorry ‘bout what’s ggon’ happen. This ain’t me, ppuhpplease remember that, mmkay?”

You nod, tearing up at the pure agony in his voice. “I w-will, Clyde.”

His hips shove forward, a choked howl escaping his lips, balls tightening. You cry out, the burn of your walls stretching to accommodate his girthy length more prominent than usual.

Veins bulge out of his neck, jaw clenched as he begins moving, mercilessly plowing into you from behind. He plants his clawed hand next to yours, loud and desperate scratching noises accompanying the wet squelch of your joined torsos.

The carpet is shredded, hardwood floor scratched permanently by his feet as he humps you with a desperation unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. This really wasn’t Clyde, but you soon realized that you exactly mind this side of Clyde, this primal instinct, this roughness. It was arousing, bittersweetly so.

When you look over your shoulder at the wooly mass moving behind you, your eyes widen. You didn’t notice the shiny substance from a distance, but now that he’s up close, you see that it coats his snout and has even dripped down onto his breast.

A gripping fear bubbles in your stomach. But then, you rationalize immediately, before you find yourself too deep down in this rabbit hole of worry. He probably just hunted a deer or a rabbit or something. He’s a fucking wolf, remember?

You almost sigh out loud in relief, but you keep it in, instead moaning along with each of his thrusts.

“D-Did ya like muhmmahhmm--ma w-wolf cock?” He asks.

You nod. “Y-Yeah, ohhh god, I liked it.”

“Gonna gguh-give ya real nice p-pups.” His muzzle rubs over the spot behind your ear, the same one that he’d been after earlier, smearing some of the crimson across your skin. He licks it with as much consistency as possible, considering the speed and intensity of his hips. “F-Fill ya u-up, knot ya gggood ‘n deep.”

You’re almost positive he’s talking pretty much nonsense at this point, his rut brain having completely taken over. You know you’re not gonna cum, but it doesn’t really matter; you’re doing this for him, after all.

“Oh g-god, I’m cummin’, I’m gonna--”

He pauses his hips, howling softly as he cums. But this time, something else begins to swell, and you cry out as it does so.

“M-Ma k-knot,” Clyde breathes in explanation. “Keeps it a-all inside y-ya.”

You nod, not really knowing what all he’s talking about but not really caring for an explanation right now.

“‘m gonna h-havta stay inside y-ya fer a lil while. S-Should be ‘b-bout 30 minutes or so.”

His tongue begins moving over your cheeks and neck, something that makes you smile, that helps you remember that your beloved boyfriend’s in there somewhere.

The half hour waiting period passes, and as much as you’ve loved snuggling with your boyfriend (who’s wolf counterpart is relatively cuddly, despite previous reservations), you’re happy to have him off you.

After wishing you a final goodbye, citing the need to ‘clean up his cave a bit’, he trotted back out the door and galloped like a madman (wolf?) back out into the shadowed wood, leaving you alone once more.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s all over the news when you flip on the TV a couple days later. Hunter Found Slain in Boone County Woods, Bear Attack Suspected.

You have this awful, sick-to-your-stomach feeling that what happened the other night, when Clyde came to your house still in wolf form with a snout and chest covered in blood, had something to do with this.

When the picture of the victim came up on the screen, you audibly gasp, recognizing the face. It’s the guy that was feeling you up at a few nights ago at Duck Tape.

Oh god, no.

Suddenly, the door flies open, and Clyde’s panting as he rushes in and shuts it behind him. He looks pained, bottom lip trembling. “Have ya s-seen the ne--”

“...Police are still investigating the scene...foul play has not yet been ruled out...”

His entire demeanor falls, and the tears fill his eyes. He’s visibly shaking. You stand up and rush over to him just as he collapses on the floor.

You’re freaking out, trying to confirm what it is you’re pretty sure you already know.

“C-Clyde, did you...?”

He looks up at you from where his head now rests in your lap. “I c-can’t quite remember, b-but I think...I think I m-might’ve.”

Sobs wrack through his body as he cries hoarsely. You’re in shock, somehow hearing the words makes the reality suddenly hit like a damn semi-truck. You run your hands through Clyde’s slightly matted mane, soothing him as best you can.

“Clyde, it’s okay, baby. It’s alright, it’s not your fault.” You whisper.

“Y-Yeah it i-is, though. I k-killed ‘im.”

You try to stay strong, for Clyde’s sake, but the tears are swelling in your eyes at an uncontrollably fast rate. “But you d-didn’t do it o-on purpose, h-honey.”

His face seems to drop even more when he sees that you’re about to cry. He sits up shakily, pulling you into a big ol’ bear hug.

“Oh, buttercup, oh god, ‘m sorry. I didn’t m-mean to drag y-ya into all ‘a t-this.”

You sob into his shirt, wrapping your arms around him, holding him close. It’s hard to believe that this man, this kind, gentle man, could’ve done something like this on purpose. Clyde would never hurt a fly.

From what he’s told you, which granted is very little, the line between werewolf and human for him is quite a blurry one. He seems to only be able to remember parts of what happened, and his subconscious is only there for part of the time.

Which means that he’s technically innocent, since he can’t remember nor could he control his canine impulses or instinct. As far as you’re concerned, werewolf Clyde and human Clyde are two different beings.

“I-If anyone ever f-found out ‘bout ma c-condition...”

You pull away and look up at him, holding his face in your hands. “Clyde, I-I’m not gonna turn y-you in.”

“What?” He looks at you with a furrowed brow, like he’s surprised to hear your words. “Y-Yer not g-gon’...?”

Shaking your head, you swing your leg over his lap, hugging him once more while your face settles into the crook of his neck.

“No, of course not. I know you’re a good p-person, and like I said before, it’s n-not you. Your w-wolf side is not really you, Clyde, at least not entirely.”

Clyde looks down at you with an incredibly grateful expression, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He tilts your head up with one of his meaty fingers, immediately pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is relatively short, just a showing of his gratitude, of his love for you. When he pulls away, you maintain eye contact.

“Okay, so most of the solid DNA evidence will have been washed away by the rain and tampered with by the elements over the past few days that the body’s been outside. Plus, they aren’t looking for wolf DNA, and even if they somehow knew, your wolf DNA wouldn’t lead to your human identity, at least I don’t think so...”

Hours and hours of watching countless true crime shows, movies, and documentaries are finally paying off.

“But, do you remember leaving anything, anything that could indicate foul play? Really search your memory.”

He puts his metaphorical thinking cap on, closing his eyes as he tries to recall anything of use from that night, but nothing comes to mind. His eyes swell with tears as they blink open and he shakes his head. “I can’t ‘member anythin’.”

“That’s okay, Clyde. They won’t find out, I promise, they won’t.” You kiss his neck. “For now, let’s just try to relax and we’ll keep an eye on the news. Will you come snuggle on the couch with me?”

Clyde smiles softly, nodding as you pull away and stand up, extending a hand to him. He takes it, standing up seconds later. As you walk into the living room, he says your name, causing you to turn around with a slightly perplexed expression.

“Thank ya.”

You smile brightly. “I love you, Clyde.”

“I love ya, too, darlin’.”

111 notes · View notes

write-ur-wrongs · 4 years ago

Text

A/N: Hi y’all! I was going through various prompt lists and saw this one by @chrmdpoet and just had to give it a try! So here is 39. We need to talk about what happened last night!

Geralt x reader, with some classic “there’s only one bed” fun :)

It had been a terrible three days. You knew when you left on your journey that the storm brewing on the horizon would be cause for concern, but you hadn’t expected this.

The heavy raindrops that had been battering you from every angle left you chilled to the bone. Even in the brief windows when the rain had slowed, you were still shroud in a fog so dense you swore it added to your soaked state. All the while, the wind whistled wildly through the trees, which croaked menacingly as they were being pushed to their limits.

You rode slowly with your head held low, one hand on the reins and the other gripping your hood for dear life. Jaskier was seated behind you with his arms around your waist tightly and his head tucked between your shoulder blades. His gelding followed laboriously behind you, having been injured earlier when he tripped over a fallen tree.

Geralt led the pack with a quiet stoicism. His cloak and hair whipped around him wildly, but he seemed largely unperturbed – clearly the mutations that made him a witcher helped him cope with these conditions better than you could ever hope to.

You were riding on over two days without sleep now, and you could feel your body failing you. Knowing from experience that exhaustion hit slowly then all at once, you tried to tell Geralt that you needed to rest.

However, when you opened your mouth to speak, the fierce wind blew the breath right out of you and left you in a desperate fit of coughs. Once you got your breathing under control, you urged your mare on and strode up closer to Geralt before trying again.

“We need to make camp,” you shouted, losing grip on your hood while trying to shield your eyes, “I can’t go on much longer!”

Geralt considered you before speaking up. He watched as wet strands of hair clung to your face in chunks, made note of the way your hands shook as you tried to maintain proper hold of the reins, and was acutely aware of your how irregular your breathing had become.

Geralt screwed his face in frustration. He knew that stopping now made no sense, as there was nothing for miles. The nearest village wasn’t for another 4 hours ride; and that’d be on a good day. In weather like this, it would likely take them 12 hours to arrive. He wanted to push through, confident the rain would let up, but he was riding with two humans after all.

With a low grunt he scanned the surrounding area for some kind of shelter. The only place nearby that could pass as shelter was a shallow cave. Figuring this was truly their only option, he let out a resigned sigh.

Without speaking, he jerked his head to the left to indicate that he was veering off the trail. And without hesitation, you pulled your mare’s reins in that direction. You trusted Geralt in full in these situations. It didn’t matter that your eyelids were practically sealed shut by ice, you knew that where he led, it was safe to follow.

After 48 hours of being hit by rain-soaked branches and deafened by the furious wind, you breathed a sigh of relief as you entered the cavern. That relief didn’t last too long though, as the transition from howling wind to complete silence left you with loud ringing in your ears.

You dismounted first, jutting out your jaw to try to get your ears to pop. Jaskier hopped awkwardly off the back of your horse and head straight for his gelding to check on its wound. Once satisfied his mount was fairing well, he busied himself by removing supplies from your packs to set up camp.

You were giving your mare grateful pats when you felt Geralt’s firm clasp on your shoulder. As you turned to look at him, you wiped furiously at the stubborn strands of hair that still clung to your face.

“Weren’t listening to me, were you?” he said, smirking slightly.

“Geralt,” you said, giving him a playful shove, “I can’t hear anything. I wouldn’t be surprised if my hearing never returns! I swear I never want to hear you talk about how ‘peaceful’ and ‘quiet’ forests are.”

“Hey now, that’s not fair,” he said, swallowing a smile, “the storm managed to keep the bard quiet, that’s got to be worth something.”

“Hey,” Jaskier shouted from across the cave, “I heard that!”

You winced lightly as his voice echoed through the cave, making Geralt laugh heartily at you both.

“Seems he can hear just fine,” Geralt teased, giving your shoulder a poke.

“Oh, shut up,” you muttered, tossing a twig you’d just freed from your hair at the still-laughing witcher. You managed to hit him square in the face and squealed as he lunged for you in revenge.

“Children! No fighting in the cave!” Jaskier scolded.

“Yes mum,” you countered, throwing another twig his way. Which made you all laugh as it didn’t even make it two meters before tumbling to the ground pathetically.

“I see once again I am the only helpful and mature one in the group,” Jaskier sighed as he shook out a blanket dramatically.

“Shove it, Jask.” Geralt laughed, letting you go, albeit slowly. “Can you help me start the fire now, Y/N?” he asked, clearing his throat to hide the way your closeness had caused his breath to hitch.

“I don’t remember you ever asking,” you said, rubbing your hands together to hide the way they’d clammed up after Geralt had picked you just then, “But yes.”

“I asked you four times, Y/N, don’t make me ask again.”

“An experienced witcher such as you are, can’t light a fire?” you teased, making Jaskier roll his eyes at the pair of you. You always turned the teasing up to ten whenever you accidentally (or intentionally) touched one another for too long. At first Jaskier found it funny, maybe even endearing, but after months of this dance, it definitely got a little tiresome.

“Just trying to make you feel helpful,” he retorted, without missing a beat.

“Save it, Geralt,” you said, “you might need those people skills when the folks who live in this cave come storming back over here.”

“No one lives here,” he started, faltering a little as you nodded your head towards a pile of long grass in the back that had clearly been acting as a bed.

“… anymore,” he added under his breath.

You were about to start another round of back and forth when Jaskier came rushing between the two of you carrying your supplies.

“Now, I don’t want anyone to panic,” he started, “but the rain soaked all our blankets except one, and as the only person here who’s done any work on setting up camp, I’m claiming as my own.”

“Jaskier –” Geralt growled, clearly about to argue that if anyone was getting the blanket, it would be you. But Jaskier stopped him with the wagging of his finger before he could get the words out.

“Ah, ah, ah! I don’t want to hear it! Y/N, you can sleep on that lovely pile of grass back there,” he said moving his pointed finger from you to the back of the cave, “and Geralt can sleep on the floor by the fire like he always does,” he finished, moving his point between Geralt and the pile of kindling at his feet.

“Now I am exhausted, so if you need me, I’ll be back there with the horses, eating some very wet bread in peace.”

Have fun staying warm tonight you ridiculous lovebirds, he thought, as he stalked off to the other side of the cave were the horses were tied, smiling to himself in silent victory.

You scoffed at your friend’s outburst and turned to look at Geralt with confused eyes. “What the hell was that?” you asked.

“Who knows,” he replied, looking just as confused, if not a little concerned, “he can be so sensitive.”

You hummed in agreement before busying yourselves getting the fire going. After about an hour of fussing, you finally got the fire going. For a while there you were worried it wasn’t going to happen, seeing as all the wood you found was either damp or completely soaked, but nothing seemed to be impossible when you had Geralt by your side.

Once he was satisfied that the flames would keep, he gestured for you to take a seat before handing you a portion of the rain-soaked bread. You ate in a comfortable silence, listening to the crackle of the fire as the wind howled just beyond the cave’s entrance. Now that you were warm and fed, the storm raging outside seemed less of a threat and more of an invitation to settle in. Seemed as long as you had shelter, you did find storms in the forest to be peaceful – not that you’d ever admit that to Geralt.

Trying your best to be subtle, you cast sideways glances at Geralt to take in the sight of him. His already golden eyes glowed softly in the firelight and the harsh lines of his face seemed blurred as he took in the warmth from the flames before him. You smiled to yourself before letting your eyes fall back to the fire.

Geralt thought he felt your eyes on him and turned his head to meet them, but just as he turned his head, you had turned yours. Despite himself, he found himself watching you; loving the way your hair went a little wild as it started to dry. It took remarkable self-restraint not to reach out to try and smooth it. Geralt shook his head as if to shake the thought away and shifted awkwardly in his seat.

“All good?” you asked, nudging him with your elbow.

He only hummed in reply, keeping eyes on the fire.

“M’kay,” you said, keeping your voice low, “well I’m going to go to sleep.” You gave his knee a squeeze as you left the warmth of the fire and head to your makeshift bed.

Geralt stayed up by the fire for another hour or so, poking at the coals and adding logs when required. He didn’t need as much sleep as his two human companions, and he besides, it’s not like he could fall asleep if he tried.

Every so often, he’d get up to see if Jaskier was okay and on his way back, he’d check in on you. He’d already done the rounds twice and while Jaskier slept peacefully, he found himself worried about you. Your breathing never slowed enough to indicate deep sleep, and you couldn’t seem to get comfortable.

By his third check-in, something inside him broke. Without giving his mind the chance to catch up to his actions, he got down on a knee and picked you up with ease. He then carried you back to the campfire and gently laid you down beside it. He then removed his cloak and draped it over you.

He wanted to make sure you were warm enough so he kneeled down beside you to tuck you in. You must have felt his warmth in your sleep because as he leaned over you to tuck the cloak under your chin, you mumbled incoherently and backed yourself into him.

Geralt was frozen in place – he had been doing his best to ignore the way his feelings for you had been growing – but he knew better than to risk your little team’s dynamic over something as fleeting as a crush.

And yet here he was, suddenly cold and exhausted, with you snuggled up at his chest. He was about to come to his senses and pull away when you rolled over and buried your face in his chest.

Hesitantly, he tucked his arm under your head so you could use his bicep as a pillow and pulled you in closer. He told himself he’d only stay there for a moment; just until he was sure you were warm enough and fast asleep. But there was something about the way you smell enveloped him that lulled him into a deep sleep of his own.

Before he knew it, he was out.

***

The next morning, it was the absence of noise that pulled Jaskier from his sleep. He laid in his nest of blankets for a few moments before it dawned on him that the storm had finally stopped.

“Oh thank – fuck,” Jaskier was about to shout out in celebration when his eyes fell on you and Geralt’s intertwined bodies. “Oh, thank you, Gods, finally! Oh my God!”

Jaskier was running his hands through his hair in shocked elation when you stirred in Geralt’s arms. When he saw that you were waking up, he quickly fell back into his bed and pretended to be asleep. He knew that if you were caught like this, your combined pride would suffocate the relationship before it had a chance to bloom and he’d be stuck with to romantically repressed fools.

You had an amazing night sleep; maybe the best you’d had in weeks. Not only that, but you were warm and comfortable. You were also absentmindedly running your fingers across a pillow that was warm and firm and –

Your eyes flew open in a panic and your body tensed up.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you muttered under your breath in a panic. You were snuggled up to Geralt! This could ruin the team’s whole dynamic!

Gently as humanly possible, you tried to pull yourself out of his arms. Things were going well enough, but when it came time to lift his arm this went south. You had his hand in yours and you were trying to gently lay his arm back down when his bright eyes shot open and met yours in a soft, sleepy gaze.

Your stomach fell to your feet when you watched as his eyes grew wild in panic.

You shook your head at him frantically with your hand held up in front of you as he rose up on his elbow and backed away from you.

“You were cold –” he grumbled, frantically sitting up and grabbing his cloak off the floor.

“Oh! Yes, well – thank you,” you blurted, getting up to your feet a too quickly and tripping over the coals a little. “Well… I’m uhm just going to… uhm… check on Jaskier really quick.”

“Yea – y-es, hm, go.”

“Jaskier!” you shrieked, sounding a little shrill, “Up and at ‘em!”

The bard, who by all means was no actor, made a big show of yawning and stretching widely in an attempt to ‘wake up’.

“Good morning sunshine,” he said in a singsong, “how did we all sleep tonight?”

“Fine!” you and Geralt shouted in unison, both busying yourselves with packing up your camp.

“Sure looks like it,” he continued, undeterred, “Geralt you look exceptionally well-rested.”

“Shut up, Jaskier!” he seethed, shooting the bard a furious glare.

Jaskier rolled his eyes and muttered a quiet ‘okay’ before moving to help you pack up.

The ride out of the cave was incredibly tense. Jaskier had managed to bandage up his gelding and was bringing up the rear at a slow pace. Once again, Geralt was riding up ahead and you watched closely as how tense his shoulders were.

You were nervously biting your bottom lip as you replayed the events of the night before. You remembered the grass being itchy, uncomfortable, and cold. You tossed and turned constantly as whatever side of you was against the ground went numb after minutes of contact. You barely remember getting picked up or put down, but you remembered rolling over into something – or rather, someone – that made you feel warm and safe. Everything after that was a blur.

Maybe, you thought, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you allowed yourself to feel like that again. With a steadying breath, you urged your mare on and rode up to him.

As you rode up, you saw him tense up even further, and lost a little bit of your nerve.

“Don’t say anything,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road ahead, as you were about to pull back on your reins.

“Geralt, we need to talk about what happened last night,” you said, taking care to keep your voice low so that Jaskier couldn’t hear you.

“No,” he said through clenched teeth, “we don’t.”

“Yes, we do, Geralt.”

“It was nothing, Y/N, please forget about it.”

“If you mean it,” you said, trying to keep yourself from crying, “then say it to my face.”

Geralt let out a low hum and lowered his head. He didn’t mean it and it practically killed him to say as much. He couldn’t say it again, and he sure as shit couldn’t say it if he met your gaze. He knew if he turned his head to look at you, he’d unravel.

Watching him sit rigid as stone was driving you crazy. You had transitioned from biting your lip to gnawing on the inside of your cheek and were starting to taste blood. You needed to know how he felt. You weren’t sure if you’d survive it if he didn’t feel the same way, but you knew you couldn’t handle all this longing and want anymore.

Slowly, you steered your horse closer to Roach until you were able to reach over and lay your hand over his.

At the point of contact, Geralt wiped his gaze up to meet yours and was horrified to see that you were crying.

“Oh god, Y/N,” he started, bringing a hand up to brush the tears away, “I’m so so sorry. It – it wasn’t nothing. I – I have been fighting these feelings for so long. I – You deserve better, Y/N,” he murmured, his hand now holding yours gently.

You shook your head at him tearily and squeezed his hand, “No Geralt, don’t say that. You are incredible, caring, and so worthy of love.”

Suddenly, Geralt leaned over kissed you. You returned the kiss without hesitation and let it deepen as he brought both hands up to cup your face.

“Finally, after all this time, these two dumb lovers surely did find, true love, true love!” Shocked, and a little shy, you pulled yourself away from Geralt to look back at Jaskier with wide eyes.

The bard had pulled out his lute and was singing loudly behind the two of you with a huge, shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“Shut up, Jaskier!” you and Geralt shouted in unison before laughing lightly at the absurdity of it all.

“Ohh, what your language, lover boy!” he sang through bouts of laughter.

Geralt shook his head and turned to meet your eyes once more before saying, “How much would you miss him if he were to suddenly disappear?”

“Stop it, Geralt!” you laughed, “if it wasn’t for him, we’d still be cluelessly cursing our ‘unrequited’ love.”

Geralt looked back at Jaskier accusingly before turning to look at you with a brow cocked in confusion.

“I put the blankets away this morning,” you said, “they were all bone dry.”

“Hmmm” Geralt growled in mock exasperation, before smirking to himself.

I’ll thank the idiot later, he thought before reaching over to hold your hand once more.

#geralt of rivia #the witcher #witcher fic #witcher geralt #witcher x reader #the witcher netflix #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #fic prompts #jaskier #there's only one bed

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johannstutt413 · 3 years ago

Text

(requested by mathmaticalknight; continuing from this)

As Tomimi settled into her seat for the Tail Club meeting, and Provence took a breath to start talking, a pair of small hands knocked on the door. The group turned their attention to the door as the Lupo went forward with the whole “speaking” thing. “Yes?”

“The posters said this is a club for people with tails?” Suzuran peeked around the door. “I have a lot of tails, and I have some questions about it.”

“Morti thought I should come, too,” Shamare said, also peering around the door. She’d actually come because Suzuran had invited her, but that wasn’t the point.

The trio (including a sort-of-visible Manticore) set about adding some more seats to their circle, but as they did, there was another knock. “Hey, I saw a poster for a ‘Tail Club.’ Is this enough tail to join?” Pramanix’s mound of Feline floof slapped the threshold as she walked into view.

“Sure!” Provence gestured to the chair circle. “We’re working on widening the circle right now, but we’re pretty sure we have enough chairs for everyone.”

“We brought a few just in case!” Blemishine replied to an unverbalized question as she, her sister, and her aunt walked in as well. Tripling in the span of one meeting...what a turnout!

The club leader, once everyone was settled in, stood up to address them. “Wow. Um, first, I’m glad everyone could make it! We’ll go around the room and get everyone’s names, but before we do, I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page. I know Manty’s cute poster calls us ‘Tail Club,’ but we’re not an after-school club or something; we’re a support group and an activist group more than anything, in that we lobby the Doctor and the rest of leadership on behalf of the needs of Operators, ourselves included, with tails that are especially cumbersome, high-maintenance, or just...big. Alright, with that out of the way, I’m Provence! Hi! I’m the president, I guess, of the Tail Club, and no, it’s not because I have the biggest tail. We might actually do an election or something now that we have more members...hmm. We’ll figure it out! Alright, right or left, you two pick.”

“I-I’ll go...” Manticore stood up as the Lupo sat down. “I’m the club’s...vice-president. If you have...any questions, you can...come and find me, or...you can tell Estelle or Tomimi...and they’ll find me...and then I’ll find you...Thank you...”

“Codename’s Whislash, but go on ahead and call me Zofia. Brought myself and my sisters with me when I saw the poster because, well, we’ve got fluffy business in the back and wanna be in solidarity with similar folks. It’s neat to see all kinds of tail- what are you giggling about, Maria?”

Blemishine didn’t stifle her laughter as she took her turn. “Nothing, aun- ‘sis.’ Maria ‘Blemishine’ Nearl at your service!”

“And I am Margaret ‘Nearl’ Nearl.” She smiled at the repetition. “Thank you for taking the initiative and starting this group, Provence; the wider thresholds have already saved me at least one embarrassing entrapment.”

“No problem, but Tomimi’s the one to thank for that one.” The president gestured to the Archosaurian, who gave a little wave as everyone else in the room clapped.

Suzuran waited for the applause to subside before taking her turn. “Good afternoon. I’m Lisa, or Suzuran, as you like. I have a lot of tails, which is like having one big tail, and I saw the poster and thought my friend Shamare might want some help, too. Isn’t that right, Shamare?”

“Um...Yeah.” The Vulpo’s misdirection had been foiled, so she just carried on. “Morti’s gonna sit with me, even though he doesn’t have a big tail, because he’ll remember if I forget what we talk about. He likes being in the same room as priestesses, too.”

“Your doll understands flattery, then. That’s interesting. Anya ‘Pramanix’ Silverash, Karlan Saintess and in need of some tail care advice - I’m getting tired of shedding fur on corners. I’ll help if I can, too, but most of you have a lot more to worry about than me, it looks like.” It was actually kind of humbling for the Feline to sit in a room with so many people with Tails of Unusual Size. Hers was fluffy and silky smooth, true, but just look at the Archosaurian.

The Archosaurian whose turn it was, in fact. “Hi. I’m Tomimi, and that’s the only name I have. I came here for help, and Provence and Manty have been really helpful, and they’re really nice, so I keep coming back. Let’s, uh...Let’s all get along!” She learned that one from Young Things Magazine.

“Thank you, Tommy!” Provence clapped her hands; she could already tell she was going to enjoy this ‘proper president’ thing. “Alright, first order of business for our first-timers: what problems are you having? Anya, you mentioned yours a bit already, so would you be willing to start?”

“Oh, sure. I’ve always had a fluffy tail, and it’s pretty versatile, but there’s this one thing that’s always bugged me about it...”

After going around the room, sharing some tips and tricks for better grooming, and even breaking off into groups for tail-brushing time (Zofia suggested it, and everyone liked the sound of it), the meeting adjourned after a productive two-hour session. Suzuran found a broom to sweep up the sheddings (including scales from Tomimi - she was nearly done with her shedding cycle, but not quite), and Shamare waited for her in a chair near the entrance, whispering to Morti. Tomimi approached her, curious. “Shamare?”

“Hmm?” The harbinger frowned. “It’s rude to interrupt a conversation.”

“You can hear him?” She leaned in, trying to catch its voice.

The Vulpo pulled back into the upholstery. “I can. Do you want to?”

“I don’t think so.” The Caster sat on the floor in front of her. “Is he nice?”

“He takes the bad feelings away, and he likes talking to people.” She rubbed his head, and Tomimi could’ve sworn the stitched smile curled a little more.

That convinced her. “Did you make Morti?”

“No,” Shamare replied, “but I did give him his body.”

“Could you make a doll for me to give to my girlfriend? I don’t want her to be lonely when she’s busy in her office.”

The oracle blinked. “You want me to do that?”

“Mmhmm.” The Archosaurian gave her a toothy smile. “I like your style.”

“...Okay, but you have to get me the stuffing. My doctor found out I stuffed Morti with Originum and she wasn’t happy, but I need something to put in your doll.” The Vulpo didn’t want to blush, but it seemed Morti didn’t feel like intervening for her.

Suzuran skipped over to the pair, sweeping finished. “Hi, Tommy! Ready to go, Shamare?”

“One more thing.” She hopped off her chair. “Can I have one of your scales?”

“Okay.” The Caster lifted her tail and smacked the ground; a small tremor shook their immediate vicinity, and several scales fell off.

Shamare took a few, put the rest in the bucket her friend had filled while sweeping, and nodded to Tomimi. “I’ll bring your doll to the next meeting.”

“Thanks.” She watched the pair leave, cocking her head. ‘Those two are like opposites...Just like Gav and me.’

“Well, I didn’t meet any cute bachelors, but the tail talk is super nice,” Whislash noted as the Nearls packed up their chairs.

Provence chuckled. “Is that why you really came, Zofia?”

“M-maybe.” She sighed. “Look, I don’t like making a big deal out of it, since I’m only the eldest by a couple years, but it’s getting harder to find my kind of guy out in the wild. You have someone special?”

“Sure do! My girlfriend and I met here at Rhodes Island, actually.”

The Kuranta’s ears perked up as her nieces left her to her conversation; they had other stuff to do, especially while she was distracted. “Girlfriend? That’s okay here?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Then the Lupo remembered where the Nearls were from. “Oh, right, you’re from Kazimierz. Yeah, RI doesn’t discriminate like some other companies...or governments, either.”

“Huh...You, uh, know anyone on the market? They don’t even have to be that cute.” Saying the words out loud made her blush.

The Sniper smiled as she slipped her phone out of her pocket. “Actually, I think I know just the person. Walk and talk?”

“Sure!” Whislash’s tail swished behind her as she turned to leave, glowing a bit. “Ooh, there’s a movie playing tonight I’ve been wanting to see, if they like that kinda thing.”

“You can ask them - I’m sending you their number now.” Provence looked back as she passed the light switch; Tomimi was still there, so she left them on.

Manty was, too, although the Lupo had missed her at a glance; after all, they had a double date themselves...the Manticore needed her girlfriend to bear witness to the thicc she was exposed to on a daily basis. It just wasn’t fair. “Hey, Tommy...why do you think...everyone started coming today? We’ve had posters...for a couple weeks now.”

“Oh, Gav started telling people about it, too.” The Archosaurian was still seated in front of the chair. “Estelle is an Archosaurian, isn’t she?”

“She is...Why do you ask?”

The Caster looked back at her tail. “In my village, there’s a lot of arguing about which is better - big or small tails. I wonder if other Archosaurians have that debate, too.”

...The Specialist had a feeling she knew the answer to that.

#arknights #arknights fic #tomimi (arknights)#provence (arknights)#manticore (arknights)#blemishine (arknights)#shamare (arknights)#suzuran (arknights)#whislash (arknights)#nearl (arknights)#pramanix (arknights)#don't ya just love a tag cloud #nice to see a lot of rare names in it #shamare's on my mind now #gonna e2 her next #for teh funz

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