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radioisntdead · 10 months ago

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It's 4 am, I haven't slept and I'm supposed to be sleeping but Alastor shenanigans are plaguing me, headcanon time folks! Throwing the reader in at random times

Alastor is stunned when you shine a flashlight at him, like eyes wide, smile stuck, ears forced straight,

Deer in headlights fr fr

He's NOT happy once he's freed from the flashlight pause, if y'all are romantically involved you are getting bitten, if you are not romantically involved, then you are getting threatened, sucks for you good luck.

Dude makes deer bleats, it's canon

Imagine just giving the dude some form of affection like a slight smooch on the cheek and BLEAT

Also hooves, I imagine dude has to get his shoes custom-made to fit comfortably,

Do y'all think he could tapdance with the hooves? Like click clack, I have no idea how tapdancing works it's late, I'm sleep deprived and delusional.

If you know how tapdancing works feel free to infodump in the comments I love reading infodumps

I have no context but onlyhooves popped in my head and I found that hilarious,there are probably people who have a thing for hooves in that universe in a non cute way. Yucky shame on thee.

Anyways put this man shoeless, hooves out on a fleshly waxed/mopped floor or something and he's becoming Bambi, he is NOT dignified when he's slipping and sliding, do not laugh at him you will get bit and I said it once and I'll say it again this man probably has something, Now I adore Alastor that deer guy is why I'm in this fandom BUT THAT MAN DOES NOT HAVE GOOD HYGIENE,

Why do I like this guy? [It's probably because this is the only fictional character that I unwillingly got a thing for that's ace and I feel safe in that way, only in that way though he would kill me. Or I'd kill him first because I AM NOT GETTING TAKEN OUT BY THAT DRENCH HIM IN HOLY WATER]

Anyways back on topic y'all would 100% have to chase him down with a bucket of water, soap and a sponge.

Like use the flashlight to stun him and throw him into a bathtub, dab shampoo and conditioner in his hair and leave him there to soak, this is a weekly debacle

Like he'll take a bath on his own but that's like once a month maybe twice if lucky

You will have to remind him to brush his teeth and stand in the bathroom and watch him brush his teeth, y'all are going to have to change out toothbrushes often because he destroys them brushes his sharp ol' teeth

also I just realized his teeth GLOW? Brushing isn't going to make it any less yellow but maybe glow more.

Deers apparently do this lil' ol' foot stomp while agitated and I can't remember if Alastor does a lil stompy stomp in the show but I can just imagine dude leaning on his radio staff probably bickering with reader because y'all are trying to get him to brush his teeth and then stompy stomp.

You could probably dress him up festively for Christmas, he won't do it willingly but you could try, put Christmas lights on his lil' antlers make him grow em' out and you can put ornaments on it too

I should be sleeping but I'm doing this instead, I am making great decisions here!

I'm yawning rn and that has lead to me thinking he probably unhinges his mouth like pennywise to yawn, Sometimes I wish I could do that, big yawn.

According to his wiki Alastor is a canonically a foodie and cooks

He has a cookbook that he made himself, it's handwritten and looks like it belongs to a older woman [COUGH COUGH he took care into making it look like a cookbook his Ma had cOUGH COUGH]

I imagine he cooks in bulk [me projecting but that's because when I cook it's usually for my family] and before the hotel he would pack it in advance like "this is my delectable lunch, and this is my partners lunch for tomorrow and this is for-" but after the hotel it's just "Salutations! I made dinner now feast."

I imagine there's a few checks to make sure he didn't put any sinner meat in there, like Sir we did not consent to cannibalism.

He usually makes dishes with sinner meat separately.

Dude sleeps with his eyes wide open, dry ol' eyes, give him some eye drops like sir you had glasses in life, I'm assuming your eyesight got fixed to some degree, TAKE CARE OF IT this is coming from someone with glasses, I want good eyesight SOBBING.

anyways if y'all were married for example in life the first time you go to snoozeville and you wake up you freak out because he's staring at you and he did NOT DO THAT WHEN HE WAS ALIVE.

Dude definitely got freakier in death, like dude was a funky lil' charmer that killed people, I can't emphasize enough that this man killed people, Remember it's alright in fiction but we don't condone it irl.

And now he's a funky cannibalistic dude, still kills people

Imagine keeping a diary or something and one entry is just like

"Dearest diary, Alastor has developed a taste for sinner flesh."

I really don't use Alastor making puns in my fics enough, I need to put that in more I ADORE puns

I've been kicked out of like two gcs because I wouldn't stop making stupid puns at bad times.

Same with the 1920's-1930's slang and just everything like that was my hyperfixation for a good bit [I say good bit like I wasn't a walking talking wikipedia article and like it isn't actively ongoing] [I am SO GLAD I WAS NOT BORN THEN I WOULD NOT SURVIVE FOR MULTIPLE REASONS.]

Dude has chest fur. Also random tuffs of fur around like his elbows or knees.

I also headcanon that he sometimes sleepwalks, so you wake up at 2 am and he's just standing over you, watching.

Assuming you're used to it you just blink before turning around and going back to sleep, add in a "Alastor go back to your side of the bed"

When he's not freaking you out with his sleeping habits he's staying awake for multiple days in a row.

Okay I'm going to sleep now goodnight folks, Let's see if this makes any sense when I wake up.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel alastor

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atiny-desire · 10 months ago

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Shining Armor

Pairing: Knight! Jongho x fem! reader

Summary: Your village gets attacked in the middle of the night. Unlucky for you, Jongho decides to take you with him.

Word count: 2.2k

Disclaimer: I'm in no way condoning, justifying, encouraging nor promoting this kind of behavior. This is not supposed to represent Jongho in any way.

Warning: kidnapping, blood, murder, pillaging, a little bit of physical violence against the reader

◇◇◇

It was the middle of the night when you were woken up by the sound of snorting horses and their hooves that stomped over the gravel path of your village. The voices of men mixed together with the noises of the horses. You sat up in your bed, your heart was hammering against your ribcage. A group of men showing up in the middle of the night was never a good sign, especially in times of war.

As quiet as possible, you sneaked into the living area of the house. Your parents were already standing there together and peaked out of a small gap of the shutters. Your father turned his head when he heard you approach and then looked back at your mother. "You two, go hide, I'll deal with anyone who comes in." He tried to guide you both to a somewhat safe spit, but it was already too late.

The door of your small home swung open, and three men invaded your family's living space. One of the three stood out especially. His armor was pitch black, while the metallic armor of the other two were silver. The only thing they had in common was the blazon of the neighboring kindom on the right side of their chest. "One more move, and your heads are going to roll." The man in the black armored spoke before ordering the two men by his side to search the house for valuables and money. Your parents stood in front of you, trying to hide you away from the strangers eyes.

"Get out of my home!" Your father barked at the intruders, but the three of them were unimpressed by his order, they didn't even bother to turn their heads and just continued looting. It took just one stern glance from the black armored warrior to make anyone freeze up, including your Dad.

Their metallic armor was rustling while they moved around. You kept your eyes on the man who was still standing in the doorway. His hand was resting on the hilt of his sword while he made sure that his men didn't miss a single nook or cranny. From outside, you started to hear screams of women and men alike. From the gap between the shutters, you could see the neighboring house. The thatched roof was currently going up into bright red flames. The dry material was easy feeding material for the fire to grow.

You turned your attention back to the men in your home. The tension was unbearable. The three of you hoped that they would just take what they wanted and leave again. At first, it looked like you were one of the lucky few who would get away, as the men finished plundering your home and moved to leave. The two men left first, and the man in black armor was about to follow before he turned around again. His gaze traveled over your small family before his eyes caught you through a small gap between your parents' bodies. His eyes narrowed at your parents before piercing right through you. "I'm taking the girl with me." It wasn't a question. It wasn't a request. It was a fact, an order.

Your mother's gaze turned fearful, she quickly searched for eye contact with your father, but he wasn't even looking at her. Your father had puffed his chest out and protectively stood before you and your mother. He might have let this man silence him, but he wouldn't give up his family without a fight. Anger burned in his gaze, with which he fixated the intruder. "You already took everything we have. Leave my home, now!"

The warrior grimaced his face, his eyes were cold, and his stance unwavering he was looking at your father like he did when he looked at bugs he was about to squish between his fingers A few unlucky ladybugs had already shared this fate. Deserved, as he would say, because how dare them stain his flawless armor with their red color? The only color he allowed was the red blood he drew from his enemies.

You had never seen brown eyes that managed to look so cold, to the point your whole body began to shiver. "Took what exactly?" He spat out with as much disdained as he could muster. It was his mission to show everyone in his way how little he thought of them. His hand that was previously just resting on the hilt of his sword now gripped it instead, ready to draw if he had to. "There's barely anything in this shithole. Do you think that's going to satisfy anyone?"

The warrior puffed out his chest just like your father did, but his heavy armor made him look more imposing, even causing your father to take a step back. "Hand me your daughter. Now! Unless you want me to paint the steel of my sword with your blood." A lazy smug smile spread on his face as he leaned forward, getting into your father's face. "And then I'll take her anyway."

Your father wanted to fight back. You could see it in his eyes, but what could he realistically do? He was huge, armored, and armed, and on top of that, he was not alone. His men were plundering the village in other houses, men and women were screaming alike, but you couldn’t worry about it right now, you had to worry about yourself.

The warriors eyes were on you again. His steely gaze caused you to flinch back and hide behind your mother like a scared child. He chuckled. "A little shy, are we?" His voice was a low murmur. He was seemingly satisfied by your reaction. Your body tensed, your throat tightened, you wanted to cry from being under so much stress. "Lucky. That's how I like 'em." He threw another cocky glance in your father's direction. He obviously wanted to provoke him, and he succeeded.

With an angry scream, your father attacked the armored warrior. His fist was closed tight to the point his knuckles turned white, but his resistance against the strangers' orders was short-lived. The warrior drew his sword, with such ease that one could think it weighted nothing more than a feather. The sight made you want to puke as your father got impaled on the sharp weapon. Time went by slowly, the event just barely registered in your brain as you had to watch your father stumble back, clutching his hand over the wound, choking up blood and eventually going down to the floor with a dull thud.

The world went silent for a second before your mother let out a gut-wrenching scream. She dropped to her knees and crawled over to her husband. She cradled his face, begging him not to die and to stand back up, but it was pointless. His heart had stopped beating shortly after being pierced by the sword. You were left standing on weak legs, wide-eyed and unprotected. Just what the warrior wanted.

He put his sword back into its scabbard before walking up to you to pull you against him. His arm was wrapped around your waste, the metal of his armor poked into your soft sides. He apparently didn't think you would struggle because his grip wasn't particularly tight. You began to squirm. "No, no, no! Let me go!" You yelled at him, put your hands on his shoulder, and tried to push him away.

The only thing your actions did was earn yourself an eye roll from him and a more firm grip on your waste. "Yes, yes, yes!" It was clear that he was mocking you. "Don't make it harder than it needs to be." He muttered as he roughly pulled you with him out of your home.

You screamed and wriggled in his hold, hitting him and trying everything to get out of his grip. You even yelled for your mother, but she didn't react. She was staring at your dead father. She was completely apathetic, to the point she didn't even notice the abduction of her own mother.

"Jongho! Did no one teach you that you don't drag the ladies screaming and kicking out of their house?" A male voice called out, followed by a hyena like laugh. You looked into the direction the voice came from. It was a man with blonde hair, a boyish grin decorating his lips, and blood was sprinkled all over his face and armor.

The man earned himself an angry glare from the one who dragged you out along with him. "Shut it, Wooyoung! How about you get your ass back on your horse? We're done here."

Jongho kept dragging you with him. Your resistance was useless. He managed to pull you with him with the same kind of ease he could draw his sword. He led you to a pitch-black horse. It looked just as mean as its rider. Tears of terror rolled down your face as your mind slowly began to process this quick follow-up of events. "Let go!" You whimpered, your voice was high-pitched and cracked occasionally.

The warrior stopped. His head turned toward you, but his eyes were still as cold and steely as before. "Why are you crying?" With his free hand, he gripped your face. The metal of his armor was now also poking into the skin of your face. He held you still and moved his face closer to yours. Unexpectedly, his tongue darted out and licked away the tears that had escaped your eyes. You flinched back as much as you could with his hold on you, your nose scrunched up, and your body shivered with disgust at the wet feeling of his tongue on your cheek. "Don't worry. Your life will be good as my wife." He murmured with a soft tone, but instead of soothing you, it only made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"Oh come on Jongho, did you never learn -" The voice of the man from before was heard again, you remembered Jongho calling him Wooyoung. He never got to finish what he wanted to say because Jongho's head shot up and locked his burning gaze on the blonde. "One more word, and you'll join the peasants under the ground!" That was enough to make Wooyoung shut up, he just raised his hands to show that he had given up and walked to his horse to avoid Jongho's path.

Now that Wooyoung was dealt with, you were back in Jongho's fixation. You were still struggling, although your attempts seemed almost pathetic. That was what he was probably thinking too, because a mocking grin tugged at his lips while he watched you squirm like a worm in a bird's beak. "That's enough, settle down."

His patience with you was running out, and when you still resisted, despite his stern order to settle down, he backhanded you across the face. A few of his men turned their head to see what was happening before quickly turning away again to stow away their looted goods, deciding that it wouldn't be worth it to mingle with Jongho's business. Your cheek was left red and warm, pulsating with pain. His slap would have already been powerful in itself, but the metallic gloves of his armor intensified the impact even more.

You held your warm cheek and looked up to the warrior in shock. The stinging pain forced tears to well up in your eyes again. "You'll need to learn some manners before you can mother my future children." He saw the look of horror on your face when he mentioned having children and chuckled lowly. The only thing you would remember from this moment was how emotionless his eyes looked. His brown eyes seemed black, the light of the burning houses behind you reflected in his dark eyes. He took the opportunity of you freezing up again and hoisted you up on his horse.

He joined you behind you so he could wrap his arms around your waist while he held the reigns. With a whistle, he signaled his men to mount up and get ready to leave. As you were forcefully taken with them, you turned your head to see the destruction they had caused in your hometown. Several buildings were burning down, black smoke disappeared into the black night sky, and a few corpses were lying around, some of them you even knew.

"Why me?" You asked when you turned around and stared forward. You could imagine how your mother must be feeling right now. Just like you, she lost everything in just one night.

You heard his chuckle from behind you, but there wasn't any humor in it. "Why not?"

Outraged you snapped your head around, your eyes were blazing with fury. "What do you mean, 'why not'?

"I mean exactly what I said. Why not. Do I need a reason to take you with me?" He asked. The men that were riding behind him were as quiet as the night, trying to hear what their General was saying. "Good, you want a reason? I think you'd look pretty in my bed. Does that satisfy you?" You saw the dirty smirk on his lips and quickly turned away again. You pressed your lips into a thin line. You wanted to scream but held it in the back of your throat. Still, a small frustrated sound left your mouth that only earned yourself another chuckle from Jongho.

#ateez imagines #yandere ateez #ateez yandere #ateez x reader #yandere ateez x reader #jongho x reader #yandere jongho #ateez scenarios #ateez oneshot #yandere jongho x reader #jongho imagines #jongho oneshot

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deerboybreeder · 2 months ago

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UPDATED PINNED LETS GOOOO!

[PraiseMe Link!] [Tellonym Link!] (Send me threats and scary things!)

Hi, I'm Deer but you can call me whatever you want idc! Im a trans man and use he/it pronouns (or any pronouns in kink), I'm in my late 20's, and my blog is primarily focused on breeding and pregnancy! However lots of my other kinks will be present here, such as cnc, kidnapping, intox, monsterfucking, hucow and gender play- this includes both force detrans and forcemasc!

Inbox and DMs are open, but keep in mind:

-i am fat! That's just a fact, don't go into this assuming I'm skinny

-I've been on testosterone for several months, and I am starting to be read as a man in my day to day life!

-I AM TAKEN and won't get in a relationship with you. I do have permission for roleplay, so assume unless stated otherwise that I'm playing a role here. I DO NOT SEND PICS BECAUSE OF THIS!!! they own my body ❤️

You Can: talk to me about impregnation, forced impregnation, breeding, pregnancy in general, reduce me to my womb and tits (PLEASE), send fantasies about breeding boys girls and anyone else, hunting deerboys (for breeding or otherwise), monsterfucking, anything hucow related, light blackmail, and forced marriage! I talk about it less here, but I'm also into having parts of me hacked off for meat- feel free to bring that up if you want but I don't expect much bc it's niche. I'm also a traumagenic system of many, so feel free to ask about that/take advantage of it!

Misgendering is good (but I really prefer degendering + dehumanization), forced feminization and forced detransition especially from pregnancy, forcemasc and trans superiority (ESP transfem superiority ❤️). See below the cut for specific boundaries about that!

I also genuinely love being sent: rape threats, stalking threats, degrading messages, porn, insults, messages that imply I'm not a real man (though don't extend this to all trans ppl that's a turn off), messages that call me stupid, and graphic violent threats. If it's not on my limits list, it's probably ok to send!

You can't: ASK FOR PICS, or talk to me about scat/piss, fauxcest/incest, raceplay, beast (not monsterfucker but like real animals). Don't imply I'd cheat on my partners either. Outside of kink warning that if I ever feel like someone actually has my personal information/location, I will delete the blog immediately. So if you want to keep playing with me, don't.

DMS ONLY: Due to privacy and the way Tumblr nukes blogs, I'll only engage with the following in DMs- hunger play, asking about my trauma, and Im CONSIDERING allowing blackmail play if we have a rapport built. I also will do ageplay in DMs but I identify as a younger teen in that space and not a little-little, and won't use family-related terms.

Required reading over! Read all of the above or I'll stomp you to death with my hooves!

Genuinely for blackmail play I gotta trust you. Assume everything here I mention irl is roleplay unless stated otherwise! I am genuinely pumping to induce lactation though, that's real, and so is me dressing more feminine on and off- that's not for detrans reasons but because I'm GNC. The god pregnancy is ALSO real, but some aspects are embellished to make it fit on the kink blog. Feel free to ask about that!

Detrans specific boundaries!

The biggest thing is don't imply all other trans people are not actually their gender. I'm okay with classing "fakeboys" as a group and being considered part of that group, but that's exclusively people who also have a detrans kink. I'm also more likely to engage with this kink with other trans people, and in a much harder context than I would with a cis person.

I'm okay with being called almost any term except for woman- even in the context of kink, I can't stand being called a woman. A womb, a girl, wife, even using she/her on me is fine, just not woman. In my kink narrative, women have a level of personhood that I can't ever have! I also am fine with a specific kind of "misogyny lite" play that's exclusive for fakeboys- fakeboys and ftm girls are subject to the typical "you exist to make babies and be in the kitchen and serve", whereas real trans men, cis men, nonbinary people, and women (both cis and trans) are granted full autonomy and agency.

I'm okay with being told I'm "lying" about being a boy/man, and being made to "go back" to being a girl/cunt/womb/whore/whatever, but what's BEST is breaking me. Sure, I was always a boy, if a fake one, but you decide to break me into a good girl for you and ruin me instead. That's better than anything else! It's also totally okay to do "light" misgendering/force fem to me- encouraging me to dress more femininely due to me being GNC and things like that, only to tell me later it's because you want me feminized.

#cvntboy #ftm breeding #cvmdump #forced impreg #impregnate her #cvm wh0re #ftmpreg #trans breeding #r@pe b@it #r@pe kink #royalty kink #blackmail kink #cnc intox #intox kink #ftm free use #free use breeding #cnc kidnapping #kidnap fantasy #pinned

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anonymous-existences · 4 months ago

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Chapter 3 : Phantasm Recovery

[𝙵𝚊𝚛 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚣𝚎𝚗, 𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚉𝚘𝚗�� / I𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚜]

Dash Baxter and Tucker Foley was Heading to the Far Frozen with Fright Knight as their Supervision, His Mare riding through the Ghost Zone, Soon They landed in the Far Frozen, It made Dash shiver because of the cold chill that sets as soon as they landed on the surface, it was snowing heavily, almost like a Blizzard but it's softer winds. "Brr— Gosh— i forgot how cold it is here." Tucker shivered, no wonder Fright Knight made them wear layers of Thick Clothes, dash sighs as his breathe turns into an icy fog mixing their surroundings.

They trekked through the snow still on top of the Mare as Fright Knight Led the Horse Through the Thick Snow, soon they saw sight of the Yeti's Homes and Presumably where Danny is, Tucker looked Relieved and Dash's eyes sparkled in Satisfaction that Danny was Alright, Tucker glared at him and Dash Notices his Glaring. "W-What's up Foley Nerd?" Dash asked Nervously as Tucker's glare felt as though it's digging at his skin, "Since when were you this concerned for Danny..." Tucker asks with a deep voice of threatening intent.

"Uhm— I have no idea— he just looks majestic nowada— oh have mercy—" Dash barely dodges Tucker's Phantom CreepStick™ "I have my eyes on You Dash Baxter.." he glared and Warned, "If you bully Danny again I'll actually give you a concussion and a broke nose. Capiche?" Tucker hisses his eyes felt like a wolf ready to hunt it's prey and the prey was Dash.

"Jeez, Look it's been like... 3 days, since... That happened. I'm gonna keep changing to be a better version of myself... We all saw too many people die.. my parents are dead so I don't have to hide my homosexuality anymore—" Dash was Interrupted with a "HUH??" By Tucker, Dash tilts his head in confusion and Tucker stared at him in shock. "you're a huh.— a homo-Huh. I never noticed. Oh my god. And I thought Sam was lying when she said you totally were into Boy's Love—" Tucker said which made Dash Choke on his own saliva.

The two looked at each other in shock, both trying to comprehend the information they gave each other, "wait Wait, so . You didn't know I was Gay, but Sam Manson, the Goth one, guessed and THINKED that I was gay the Whole Time? And she knows... I have... BL..?" Dash tries to confirm, "SAM ALSO Said that she has seen you... Buy.... BL related.. books..." Tucker says slowly which made Dash just stunned. "NUH-UH!" Dash denies. "Yeah like that's gonna prove your case—" Tucker laughed at him as he buried his face in his Scarf.

"This is so humiliating.." Dash says as Tucker Foley continued laughing at Him loudly making the whole ride to the far Frozen homes much longer than it felt for Dash Baxter. Deep inside Dash knows they don't like him very much but he'll prove to them that he's changed.. especially in these rough times where they're all basically Orphans and Alone. They were each others last strand of sanity. Dash pulled Tucker closer as the blizzard leading to the Far Frozen homes got too cold for them. "Hold On Foley." Dash says trying to see ahead through the Thick Blizzard, Tucker Tightens his grip on Dash's Coat and both of them trying to Tighten each other's grip to not let each other go, a few minutes of the coldness passed and soon they passed through the blizzard like barrier and reached the far Frozen homes.

KnightMare was Shaking off the Snow from her pelt and she didn't look very pleased to be covered in frost by her hooves kicking and stomping, Fright Knight wiped the snow off of the crevices from his armor and also shook the excess off after helping the two kids off the Horse. Tucker shivered and dash shook off the excess Snow on his Coat, "Grah, that's so heav—" he was cut off with a snowball to his face. "Oh come on Foley. That's so unfair." Dash complains but gets another Snowball to his face, "Foley!" Dash yells as he wipes the snowball on his face, but was stunned when he saw it wasn't Tucker who threw the second Ball. Danny was on a wheelchair and giggling, "DANNY!!" Tucker yelled and cried as he ran to Danny, Dante was pushing Danny's Chair and Val looked horrified and stunned and totally lost in her own world of thoughts.

"Oh wow, Dash you're face is really red! You must be very cold—" Danny says but Dante interrupts him. "He's not that cold Danny, that's just how normal humans look in the cold such as Far Frozen." Dan states whilst glaring at Dash, "yep!" Tucker agrees teasingly and hugging Danny gently.

(Dante would rather Call Vlad "Papa" first before he admits that he's Protective of Danny)

Dash just nods, "My Liege are we heading back to the Castle?" Fright Knight asks as he is kneeling in front of Danny and Dante. "Not yet. We'll stay here for the meantime as Danny is still recovering most of his Powers and Energy, as well as his ability to walk." Dante states and Fright Knight nods. "Why does Val look like that?" Dash finally asks very confusingly. "We found out me and Dante are just Adopted! And not Maddie and Jack's Real Children!" Danny casually states as he pats Cujo's head who was in his lap.

"WHAT—" dash yells unexpectedly, "SEE!! EXACTLY MY REACTION DANIEL!!" Valerie Finally speaks up still very confused and out of her logical voice of reason mode. "Yes Baxter and Foley, Our Father is a millionaire and our mother is Aunt Alicia's Best Friend who's long dead and Gone but it was said that the girl came from a very wealthy family who got accidentally pregnant and hid it from our biological Father and Her Family making her essentially run away, Aunt Alicia said that during her best friend's pregnancy she was the one to help her through everything including the birth which to this day still shocks me." Dante rolls his eyes and scoffed. "Our mother's name was Daniela! Which is probably why my name is Daniel!" Danny chuckled now loving his original name more than before.

"Aunt Alicia also stated that she loved us dearly even when we were still in the womb..." Dante says with a pained Expression and Danny holds his hand, Dante just sighs and nods. "GODDAMN. Damn... Wow. That's a lot to take i— Foley are you okay?" Dash asks and seeing tucker just fixing his glasses. "I SUSPECT YOUR FATHER IS BRUCE WAYNE—" Tucker yells out suddenly making the other 4 jump in surprise. "Impossible." Danny bluntly states not believing him at all. "Actually Daniel, according your aunt Alicia. He is your father." Vlad appeared out of nowhere fixing his tie with liptint still smudged on his cheek.

The 4 looks at him before tucker yells out, "I WAS RIIIIGHT!!"

"Ancients have mercy on me." Danny says and suffering.

"I'm gonna bury my head on the snow now" Valerie says pinching the bridge of her Nose.

Dash and Dante just stunned on the spot.

Dante looked as if he was gonna kill somebody and Dash looked like a Big Hunk of Confusion of someone about to lose consciousness.

"Who in the fuck did you make out with Vl—"

"Clockwork Dante. I made out With your Master. Why do you ask?" Vlad smirks amusingly and teasingly.

Dante scowled very upset.

"Fuck this whole thing."

Cujo barks in agreement.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #danny phantom fandom #dcu #dp x dc #ao3 #dc x dp crossover #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp fanfic #dcxdp fic #dcxdp #danny x dash #dash baxter

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oneforthemunny · 2 years ago

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I want to do primal play with cowboy eddie where he tracks me down on his horse and when he find me he hog ties me and spanks me over his lap on his horse

oh non.

what have you done.

you've got my wheels turning big time. holy shit.

18+ minors dni!!!!!!!!

you play 'hide and seek' always you hiding, always eddie finding you.

you have five minutes to hide. he puts it on a timer not he porch, going inside to wait for you.

"don't cheat, eddie!" you always squeal, and he always tells you he won't, and he doesn't. why would he? where's the fun in that.

you know you could head down the road, run down he dirt path and make it towards the road and really win, but you wouldn't be winning at all, truthfully. eddie wouldn't find you and then you'd win, and really, you didn't want to win.

so instead you hide- in the barn, in the fields, sometimes on the porch, once at the backdoor. you had unlocked it, waited until the timer shrilled and eddie went to the stables to get medusa, his beloved black mare, before slipping inside, cheekily waiting on the bed for hours.

this time, you snuck behind the barn, in your tall boots and little flashlight- eddie made you carry just in case. you pressed your back against the wood, hearing the shrill of the timer sound from the porch, eddie's heavy boots on the creaking planks of wood.

you hear medusa's neigh, hooves stamping on the ground and eddie's gruff whisper. "let's go find her, sweet girl. can't let her win, can we?"

you grin because you know he won't find you here, too close to the stables. he always went behind the pasture first.

or so you thought.

medusa's loud whine makes you jump, footing falling and stumbling into the barn. you pause, heart hammering in your ears, the light from the barn all that illuminates the night sky around you.

"hm," eddie hums, his voice getting closer. "maybe I don't need you after all."

your eyes squeeze shut, willing yourself to move. you can hear him getting closer and closer to the back door. the creaking of the door awakens your senses, heavy boots stomping through the tall grass towards the pastures. the boots are tall, rubber hitting the back of your knees with every pounding run.

eddie's hot on your trails, a salacious grin that shines in the moonlight, pounding towards you as you sprint towards the fence. your barely reaching for the wooden door before two rough hands grab you, yanking you and pulling you into his firm chest with a solid oomph.

"oh, you went too easy on me this time, girlie." eddie grins, hot breath tickling the back of your neck, making you squirm in his grasp. "you musta really wanted me to catch ya."

"no," you whine, though the aching between your legs tells you something different. "I fell! that shouldn't count! I had a really good hiding place." you stomp your boot on the ground, pouting up at him, bottom lip jutted in the light of the moon.

"oh, poor baby," eddie mocks, hands still gripping the fat of your hips. "I tell ya what, I'll only use my hand on you tonight, how's that?"

you pout but let him haul you back to the house, flinging you over his propped knee, peppering your ass with hard smacks like his own sort of prize- and in a way, it was. it was even more of a prize when he had you over the kitchen table, drooling and clawing at the wood while his cock split you open, soaking the floor beneath him in a puddle of your own release, hips snapping into the blazed, reddened skin of your ass.

it was your favorite game to play. even when you lost, you really won, always knowing it would end with you like this; ruined with an aching ass, while eddie fucked you relentlessly for hours.

#munnytalks #oneforthemunny #cowboy!eddie munson #cowboy!eddie munson x reader #cowboy!eddie #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut

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deliciousangelfestival · 1 year ago

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Tears In His Ferrari || Chp 9 - B.Barnes

Character: Bucky Barnes x Farmer!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, used to a life of luxury, takes on farm challenges in a bet with his father. Mud-stained Ferraris and a rustic farmhouse lead to unexpected personal growth, guided by the stern mentorship of Y/N, a farmer making his city-boy life difficult.

Theme: Fluff, Slice of Life, Heart-Warming.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7 , Chp 8 , Chp 9 , -Chp 10 , Chp 11 , Chp 12.

Bucky, noticing the strained atmosphere between Kate and Y/N, decided to take matters into his own hands.

"Hey, Y/N," Bucky interjected, his voice laced with a hint of urgency, "could you teach me how to clean Alpine's hooves?"

Y/N paused, her expression softening as she recognized Bucky's attempt to diffuse the tension. "Of course," she replied, offering him a reassuring smile.

With a sense of relief washing over him, Bucky led the way to the stables, eager to learn from Y/N and escape the brewing conflict with Kate.

Meanwhile, Kate seethed with frustration, her hostility towards Y/N palpable. Clenching her fists, she struggled to contain her anger as she watched Bucky and Y/N walk away, leaving her behind.

"Shit!" she muttered under her breath, her perfectly manicured nails leaving indentations on her palms as she pressed them tightly together.

Turning to her assistant, Kate issued a terse command. "I want you to gather information on someone."

Kate couldn't fathom how Bucky could abandon her for a mere farm girl when there were plenty of wealthy suitors vying for her attention. The thought fueled her irritation, exacerbating her already sour mood.

With a frustrated huff, Kate stomped her expensive shoes on the ground, unwittingly stepping into a patch of mud. The dirt splattered across her face, staining her clothes and ruining her pristine footwear.

"Fuck!" she exclaimed, her outburst startling the nearby animals, who responded with their own cacophony of sounds.

As the chickens clucked "Buk-buk-ba-gawk!!!" and the cows mooed, "Moooo…!" Kate felt a surge of indignation. She despised the rural setting and everything it represented, longing for the comfort and luxury of her city life.

Determined to uncover any secrets Y/N might be hiding, Kate hoped that the information her assistant obtained would give her the leverage she needed to regain control of the situation.

***********

At the stable, Bucky observed closely as Y/N expertly cleaned Alpine's hooves. Her movements were precise and confident, a testament to her familiarity with the task.

She explained, her voice calm and knowledgeable, “Regular cleaning is also the only way to remove impacted dirt, mud, and manure from the hoof. When you give your horse a bath, take the time to carefully clean out their hooves to prevent horse scratches and infections.”

Bucky nodded attentively, absorbing her instructions. “I see. I'll try my best to take care of Alpine.”

Y/N smiled approvingly. “Good. You're getting better at living on this farm.”

Bucky felt a flush of shyness at her compliment. He hadn't expected Y/N to praise him. “Hehe, but I'm nothing compared to you.”

As she brushed Alpine's coat, Y/N chuckled softly. “Well, I'm already used to this. If you asked me to drive a sports car or make a vlog, I wouldn't have a clue.”

Bucky's curiosity piqued. “You've never driven a sports car?”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “Not everyone is as rich as you.”

Realizing his unintentional insensitivity, Bucky hurriedly apologized. “Uhh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way.”

Then, an idea struck him. “Do you want me to teach you?”

Bucky said, "You have taught me how to drive a truck. It's more difficult than driving my Ferrari. I think you can do it."

Y/N paused, considering his offer. Bucky couldn't see her expression from his angle. “Hmm, I'll pass, but thanks for the offer.”

Disappointed but understanding, Bucky nodded. He had hoped to share the thrill of driving a sports car with Y/N, to give her a glimpse of his world, and understand his passion for racing.

Suddenly, Toby burst into the stable, his usually cheerful face now drawn with worry. “Y/N, Bucky, I need to go home!”

Concern etched across his features, Bucky approached. "What's wrong?"

“My grandmother,” Toby gasped, his voice trembling. “She's having a hard time breathing.”

Y/N wasted no time. “Get in my car, and I'll call the doctor on the way.”

Bucky, feeling a surge of determination, stepped forward. “I want to help.”

Y/N hesitated, considering Bucky's offer. “It won't fit since we're going to pick up both his grandparents.”

But Bucky wasn't deterred. “I'll use my car. It's faster. I'll meet you at Toby's house and then drive his grandma to the hospital.”

Y/N nodded, seeing the logic in Bucky's plan. “Alright.”

With determination in his eyes, Bucky hurried to his red Ferrari and fired up the engine.

"VROOM!"

The roar of the Ferrari's powerful motor sent a thrill through him. “Let's help someone,” he declared, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

As they drove towards Toby's house, Bucky followed Y/N's truck, his mind racing with thoughts. He couldn't help but marvel at Toby's resilience, realizing that the young boy had been walking to and from the farm every day.

Bucky remembered Toby, who never seemed tired each time he came by.

He felt like all his life he had the privilege to own a car and have a private driver to drive him around.

Arriving at Toby's house, Bucky took in the scene before him—the abundance of bee boxes and honey jars, a testament to the family's livelihood. Yet, despite their hard work, they lacked the resources and transportation in times of emergency.

Feeling a pang of guilt, Bucky reflected on his life of luxury, provided by his father's wealth.

Entering the house, Bucky saw Toby's grandparents. The love between them was palpable, even in their moment of distress. Toby's grandmother struggled to breathe, her frail form supported by her husband.

Bucky sprang into action with urgency, lifting Toby's grandmother gently into his arms.

Toby's grandfather regarded Bucky with curiosity who carried his wife into the small car. “Who is this young man?”

Toby assured him, “He's my great friend. Trust him, grandpa.”

As they hurried Toby's grandmother into Bucky's car, Toby's grandfather's eyes reflected both worry and gratitude, hoping for the best for his beloved wife.

With minimal traffic on the road, Bucky navigated the streets swiftly, arriving at the hospital in just 10 minutes. Carrying Toby's grandmother into the emergency room, he conveyed the urgency of her condition to the attending doctor. "She's having a hard time breathing. It's been 20 minutes."

The medical team, already briefed by Y/N, sprang into action, swiftly preparing a bed for the elderly woman. "Quick, put her here," they instructed, their sense of urgency matching Bucky's own.

As he received updates upon his arrival, Bucky prayed for Toby's grandmother's swift recovery. The weight of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders, a newfound sense of responsibility driving him to do everything in his power to help.

Ten minutes later, Y/N, Toby, and his grandfather arrived at the hospital, their anxious expressions mirroring Bucky's own concern. "Where is she?" Toby's grandfather inquired, his voice trembling with worry.

Bucky relayed the nurse's assurance. "The doctor is still looking after her, but the nurse told him her breathing problem has already improved."

Relief washed over the group, evident in their collective sighs. Toby's grandfather extended his hand to Bucky in gratitude. "Thank you, young man. Thank you so much."

Though unused to such displays of appreciation, Bucky accepted the gesture with a sense of humility, his heart warmed by the genuine gratitude.

Not just him, but Y/N felt it too. Watching Bucky's efforts to help Toby and his grandparents, Y/N's perception of him changed. He wasn't the spoiled person she had initially thought him to be.

*************

As they waited at the hospital, Bucky's thoughts drifted to his father. Reflecting on their strained relationship, he wondered when they had last spent quality time together. The sight of his father's graying hair flashed in his mind, prompting concerns about his health. Had his father undergone regular check-ups?

His musings were interrupted by Toby's grandfather's somber conversation with a doctor. "We couldn't afford the surgery," he overheard, the weight of the words settling heavily on Bucky's heart.

Caught in a moment of helplessness, Toby echoed his grandfather's sentiments. If only his father hadn't succumbed to gambling, they would have had the means to afford the necessary medical treatment for his grandmother.

Feeling helpless, Bucky watched as Toby and his family grappled with the harsh reality of their financial limitations. Meanwhile, Y/N, ever resourceful, discussed options to assist Toby's grandmother with the hospital administration.

In the midst of the chaotic scene at the hospital, Bucky felt overwhelmed by the raw emotions surrounding him. The sight of an 80-year-old man in tears and the anguished voice of another man grappling with his inability to provide for his loved one brought a lump to Bucky's throat, threatening to unleash his own flood of tears.

In stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor, Bucky clenched his fists in frustration, his heart aching with the weight of helplessness. In a world where a simple swipe of his card could solve most problems, he now found himself powerless in the face of someone else's suffering.

Determined to make a difference, Bucky stepped outside the hospital, his resolve firm as he dialed his father's number.

“Hello,” came his father's curt greeting.

“Dad. I need your help,” Bucky began, his voice tinged with urgency.

His father's response was laced with skepticism. “What did you do this time?”

Bucky's frustration mounted as he struggled to convey the gravity of the situation. “Huh? No, Dad, this isn't about me. I want to help someone.”

But his father's skepticism persisted. “Really? It's not the same as when you ask for a private jet to pick up your friends for a party?”

Bucky winced at the reminder of his past selfishness, feeling ashamed. “No, Dad, this is different. This is about someone's life. A farmer I know is facing a medical issue and can't afford surgery. I want to help them, but I don't have the money. Dad, can you help me?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, stretching agonizingly as Bucky waited for his father's response.

“...”

“Hello? Dad?” Bucky prompted anxiously, his heart pounding in his chest.

“How much for the surgery?” his father's voice finally broke through the silence.

Relief flooded through Bucky, gratitude welling up within him. “Thank you, Dad. You're the best. Oh, can I ask one more thing?” he added, seizing the opportunity to make another request, his mind already racing with possibilities.

As he awaited his father's response, Bucky couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, knowing that with his father's support, he could truly make a difference in someone's life.

Inside the office, with expansive windows offering sweeping views of the city skyline, sat a man of distinguished presence. David Barnes, at 50 years old, possessed an aura of approachability coupled with an unmistakable air of authority.

David was renowned in the business world for his astute decisions and remarkable success. With a seemingly effortless knack for turning ventures into triumphs, he had earned the moniker of having a Midas touch.

Yet, despite his prowess in the realm of business, David found himself somewhat adrift when it came to matters concerning his son, Bucky. His only child, Bucky's recent actions had stirred something within David, a sense of curiosity and perhaps even pride.

As he listened to Bucky's earnest plea for assistance, David felt a stirring within him. It was a rare glimpse of the young man his son had become, a departure from the carefree persona that had once defined him.

With a decisive nod, David motioned to his secretary. “Send $20,000 to this hospital,” he instructed, his voice tinged with a quiet resolve.

The secretary, ever efficient, sought clarification. “Did Bucky get hurt?” she inquired, her concern evident in her tone.

David shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he gazed at the sunset, casting its golden hues across the city cape. “No,” he replied simply, “he's helping someone.”

At that moment, as he watched the sun dip below the horizon, David felt a swell of pride for his son, realizing that there was more to success than just business acumen—that true wealth lay in the ability to lend a helping hand to those in need.

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buckyandgeraltsupremacy · 2 years ago

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Not Alone (Joel Miller x Fem!Reader)

joel miller x fem!reader

when you find yourself completely alone, you might just have to look up to realize you aren't.

warnings: mentioned death of family members; injuries

author: sj

masterlist

part 2

---

You quite literally stumbled upon Jackson. You had been traveling with your younger brother and when he got bit it got ugly. You shot him but not before he some how broke your arm. You weren't bit but you sure did feel like your arm was falling off.

Even though it had been two days of travel since, you still hadn't quite processed the trauma. All you could focus on was that you now were unarmed (almost literally) without your gun that ran out of bullets, hadn't eaten since, and were in an extreme amount of pain.

You had just taken a stumble, head becoming dizzy from the lack of food that you had consumed when the Jackson patrol found you. You sobbed uncontrollably when you heard the horse hooves beating on the ground getting louder. You heard gun clicks.

"PLEASE!!!! I'm not infected!! I'm hurt!!" You looked up holding one arm up in the air. Your upper left arm felt like it was falling off and couldn't raise it.

"BOTH HANDS IN THE AIR!" A deep voice yelled.

"I can't. I think my arm is broken. I'm unarmed!! I have a gun but there's no bullets. You can take it if you don't believe me. I promise. I just need help." You pleaded. God you hoped these people were sane and didn't eat each other.

The next thing you knew, you were being helped onto a horse after being sniffed by a dog and led into town. You were instantly taken into a building and were seen by a doctor.

"Looks pretty broken to me. The lower part towards your wrist is definitely broken, but it looks like you muscles have been compensating for your wrist too much and thats why the pain is all the way up to your shoulder." You thanked the doctor and they wrapped your wrist and got you a make shift sling to rest your arm in.

The lady that escorted you to the doctor, Maria, led you out.

"We have a small house that is across the street from ours that isn't occupied yet. Dusty and untouched, but empty. I can bring over some clothes and lunch for you. I'll give you a small tour and then show you to your house.

And show you she did. This was amazing. You never realized how much you missed order until you were in it. And the stables and animals were amazing. The tour ended by knocking on a large house that was quite truthfully, gorgeous. She pointed across the street, "That's Tommy and I's house. Yours is next door to this one. I just want to introduce you to your neighbors real quick. This is Tommy's brother."

The door finally opened to reveal a young girl, probably an early teenager standing before you with a pony tail.

"Ellie. This is Y/n, your new neighbor. She just arrived today. I want to make sure she is well taken care of. Can you do that?" Maria asked, Ellie glancing to you. You smiled at her obvious trust of Maria. She then nodded.

"Yeah. Of course I fucking can. Whats with the sling?" She asked.

"I broke it." You replied with smile at the course language that casually slipped out of her mouth. You would've gotten reamed by your parents if you were her age.

"Where's Joel?" Maria asked Ellie. Instead of replying, Ellie instead screamed his name.

"What the fuck Ellie? I told you not to answer the door to strangers." A tall man with salt and pepper curls stomped down the stairs and came up behind Ellie. Ahh thats where the language came from.

"Maria isn't a stranger. And if I didn't answer the door, you'd never fucking hear any one knocking." Joel rolled his eyes, a quiet curse slipping from his lips under his breath. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes landed on you. You crinkled your eyes at Ellie, enjoying watching their interaction and how comfortable they seemed together. The bickering well coated in love and playfulness. You heart gave a little ache.

"Joel. This is Y/n."

"You just came in today didn't you?" He asked, remembering how you pleaded for help with tears streaming down your face. He swear he felt his heart crack a little with how much pain you seemed to be in and here you were smiling in front of him like you just won the lottery.

"Yeah. Nice to officially meet you. Both of you." You smiled, nodding at him and then nodding at Ellie. He watched your bright, but tired eyes glance between him and Ellie in front of you.

"I just wanted you to know, she'll be living next to you and wanted to make sure you'll keep an eye out for her." Maria looked at Joel with an extra piercing stare and he nodded. She cocked an eyebrow and he nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. We'll keep an eye out." He agreed.

"Good. Let's go and get you settled. I'll grab you some food that should last you the day too." Maria walked you down the steps and he noticed the shaky way you grabbed for the railing and you gently went down the steps.

He knew you came in alone, but wondered if you were completely alone. He knew the feeling and didn't like that you probably did too.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller series #joel miller hbo #joel miller x reader fluff #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller the last of us #joel miller hurt/comfort

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ranchracoon · 1 year ago

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Ch. 1: Welcome to Romania

The carriage ride was dreadfully long and silent, you're lulled to sleep by the rhythmic stomping of horse hooves and sway of the cab. With a sudden jerk you wake and find yourself stopped, you wiped the sleep from your eyes and yawned. Leaning over you glance outside the window to see a stone statue of a woman brandishing a shield and sword. Your aunt who's sitting in front of you cleared her throat, and ushered for you to exit once the driver opened the door. You take the hand of the driver, and step out from the carriage onto the uneven cobblestone. You stretched out your legs, and bring feeling back to them while you watched, and waited for your aunt. She is a frail but prideful woman and refuses to admit help until the last possible second. Her skin hung off her bones and her wrinkles are comparable to the droopy faced hound she carries everywhere with her. A crowd formed to gawk at the new arrivals, their uncanny stares caused goosebumps over your skin. Children peek behind the legs of their parents while others climbed the statue for a better look. You ran your hands over the front of your long-sleeved, ruffle shirt to try and soothe your nerves.

At long last your aunt succeeded in exiting the carriage only to smack your hands away with her cane. She hated when you did that, and you decided it would be safer to stick your hands in your pants pockets instead. The crowd parted for you and your aunt like the red sea. She was only 5' but wore a wide-brimmed, purple hat with a lengthy feather on top and an equally purple dress which made her stick out.

Your aunt paused for only a moment when her dog relieved himself on a spot of grass that grew on the side of the path. The stone walkway turned into dirt and creepily went uphill to a gated area. At the top is a blue church with a bell tower and a gated graveyard further up. It looks to be in better condition than the rest of the homes, it's walls are a light blue with partially sun-bleached tiles for the roof. Out front on the steps is a young boy around your age plus or minus a year or two. He approached the two of you with a wide smile that showed all his teeth; he had dark-brown hair that looked as if it hadn't been washed or brushed ever in his life, and his dingy clothes were stained with various different shades of something. You scrunched up your nose when he got closer because the stench of fish burned your nostrils. He bowed respectfully to your aunt, and when she offered her hand he took it, and kissed the back of it.

"What is your name?" She asked.

"Salvatore Moreau ma'am." He responded.

"Well Mr. Moreau, you are quite the refined gentleman."

"Oh please, just Salvatore ma'am. Mr. Moreau is my father, he runs the fishing charters down at the bay." Salvatore said proudly.

That would explain the fish smell. Your aunt patted him on the cheek and continued on her way, his green eyes met with yours. His smile was not pleasant and borderline unsettling like the rest of the village, a chill ran up your spine as you tried to walk around. He stepped to the side to cut you off, and held out his hand to take yours, you glanced over his shoulder, and noticed your aunt eyeing you. You offered your hand to shake his, and quickly withdrew when he tried to kiss it like he did with your aunt's.

"What might your name be?" He asked.

"Y/N." You answered curtly.

"Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Welcome to our village! If you need anything, and I do mean anything, stop by the bay and look for the giant green boat that has a hammerhead carved on the front. That's my charter boat, and you're welcome anytime!" He beamed.

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind." You replied nonchalantly.

Salvatore stepped back and tipped his invisible hat to you, and your aunt before he went on his way. Your aunt sized you up, and hummed approvingly.

"What a nice young man. I knew bringing you here was a good idea, perhaps we will find you a husband yet." She cooed.

Every muscle in your jaw flexed and tensed, you bit your tongue hard enough that it began to bleed. You walked ahead and held the church door open for her; she toddled in with her ancient dog right behind, and you in tow. The church was larger than it looked with rows of seating benches, a red aisle runner, and a podium near the front with candles lit underneath. On the far right is rows of portraits of women in almost carbon copy robes and their names etched on the frames beneath. At the podium on her knees was a similarly dressed woman, on her back was a golden rod that kept her spine straight, and at the top was a large, golden disk similar to a halo. The woman finished her words, and stood to greet you and your aunt.

The woman walked elegantly, her piercing blue eyes were like frozen ponds that could see all your sins and virtues. She had blond hair that was slicked back and held in place with a golden headband and covered in the back with a hood. She was also incredibly tall even without her halo, you craned your neck to get a better look at her. Her presence was intimidating and powerful yet welcoming with an odd aura of safety around her. Her smile was the complete opposite of Salvatore's, it was small but genuine and you couldn't help but smile back at her. A sudden calm washed over you, making you relax and unclench your muscles.

"Hello there, I am Mother Miranda, priestess of the village. You must be Sabine. Welcome." The priestess said softly.

Her voice was angelic and perfectly matched her status, even your aunt was starstruck by the other worldly existence of this woman. Mother Miranda let out a hypnotic laugh, she covered her mouth to muffle the sound and you watched her kneel down to pat your aunt's dog on the head. It wagged its bony tail against your aunt's leg which prodded her out of her trance.

"Yes hello, and thank you Mother Miranda. This is my niece Y/N, I spoke to you on the telephone about her." Your aunt finally said.

"Hello Y/N, welcome to the village. I'm dreadfully sorry to hear about your parents, I don't know if you're religious or not but I will pray for their safe journey into whatever afterlife they deserve." Mother Miranda said kindly.

"Thank you Mother Miranda, that's very kind of you." You whispered.

The death of your parents was the entire reason you were in this remote village, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded on all sides by mountains and forest. Your father was a realtor who showed expensive living spaces to the rich and elite, he would drag your mother with him because her looks could make a fish buy bottled water. Unfortunately, one construction crew had decided to cut corners and the building collapsed on them, and the people they were showing to. No one survived. You had been living with your parents at the time after being laid off, and unfortunately your aunt was in charge of their wills. She sold anything and everything she could get her hands on. The only things you were allowed to keep was whatever you could fit into your bags.

She did give you a choice though: come with her to Romania, or be dropped off at the bus station with the clothes on your back. A 25 year old woman with no money, no prospects, and nothing to her name? The choice seemed fairly obvious at the time but now you wondered if you would have been better off on your own. Your aunt suddenly started out the door, you followed her with your eyes and turned as well but stopped when you saw your bags on the porch by the door.

"Where are you going?" You asked frantically.

"I am going to go visit the young Alcina Dimitrescu. I am a huge fan of her wine and hope to meet her in person. You are staying here to work under Mother Miranda. Bye dear." She sang the last two words happily.

You'd be lying if you said you were heartbroken to see her go, but it still stung a little at how happy she was to be rid of you. A gentle hand rested on your shoulder, you looked over and saw Mother Miranda give you an encouraging smile. When she released your shoulder, you went outside to gather your bags. You slung one beige bag over your shoulder, carried a worn, leather briefcase in one hand, and in your other hand you carried a duffle bag that, at some point, had been blue but lost its color from years of use. Mother Miranda led you outside the church and toward a path past the cemetery. It was a short walk and you admired the vibrant, yellow wheat that grew on the nearby farm.

In the distance a cabin similar in style to the church came into view. Only the walls are infested with ivy and the entire roof is engulfed with moss while small speckles of blue pain protrude through. Mother Miranda pushed the door open and folded her hands inside her robe sleeves as she moved aside to allow you to enter. It was a tiny home; you stood in a living room of sorts that bled into the kitchen and dining area, and to your right were two doors. Across from you was the kitchen and through the kitchen window you saw the outhouse. Lovely view. Mother Miranda motioned toward the doors and you followed, she stood in front of the right door and tilted her head for you to enter.

You twisted the doorknob and stepped through, inside was also small with a single twin bed against the left wall, a nightstand with two drawers and a lamp, and a desk with a chair on the right wall. You walked inside further and carefully laid the duffle and shoulder bag on the ground, and the briefcase on the bed.

"I'm sure you're exhausted from your journey and I don't want to bombard you with too much information. You'll stay here for the night, and tomorrow I will escort you to the Beneviento residence where you will be permanently staying." Mother Miranda informed you.

"Thank you Mother Miranda. I appreciate it." You said softly.

She gave you another intoxicating smile that left a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that could only be described as comforting. Your own mother never smiled at you like that, and Mother Miranda's instantly melted all your worry and stress away.

"If you get hungry, please help yourself to the kitchen and if needed, the outhouse is around the back. I will return later this evening and be in the room next door if you need anything. Get some sleep, I will collect you at 6am sharp."

You nodded your head in understanding and your smile dropped the second she closed the door. A heavy sigh left you as you trailed your hand over the leather briefcase, it once belonged to your father and it was all you had left of him except for the one photo of your parents you managed to save. Slowly and carefully you lowered the briefcase onto the floor then kicked off your shoes. You laid down on the unused bed whose metal springs screeched loudly and sounded like the bed would cave in under your weight. You hadn't realized you fell asleep until a hand was shaking you awake and you looked up into ocean blue eyes. Mother Miranda smiled at you kindly and folded her hands inside her robe again.

"Good morning dear, I need you dressed and ready to leave in a half hour. There's some porridge on the table." Even when she was giving orders her voice was pleasant.

"Thank you Mother Miranda." You replied groggily.

Every bone in your body was stiff and popped as you stood up and stretched, that's what you get for sleeping in one position all night. You quickly tore off your travel clothes and carefully folded them into your bag then pulled out a fresh outfit to change into. When you finished, you placed your things next to the door and took a seat at the table to eat the lukewarm porridge.

#resident evil village #re8 #alcina dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #donna beneviento #donna benevento x reader #alternate universe #lesbian #lesbian fanfiction

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goodmorgan · 2 years ago

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Perfect Strangers

Chapter 4: A Lie to Protect

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

Series Summary: When a stranger appears at your homestead to steal from you, you set out to help him instead. What follows is a reckless relationship with potentially dangerous outcomes.

Previous Chapters: (1) (2) (3)

Chapter Summary: A frightening event in the middle of the night makes Arthur show you his protective side, making you face an unexpected truth.

Word Count: 4K

Tags: 18+. MDNI. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Infidelity. Reader gets scared and panics. Protective Arthur Morgan.

Taglist: @how-the-heck-would-i-know

AO3 Link

A/N: No smut, just plot in this one.

It's no surprise that the sleep that comes after your evening with Arthur is dreamless since what happened is as close to a living dream as you'll ever get. But sleep is deep as well, so when Arthur jolts you awake by removing himself rapidly from your grasp beneath you, it feels like a brutal shock. You try to open your eyes as you hear him dress.

And then loud shots ring out in the distance.

You spring from your drowsy slumber, sitting up on the bed, turning to Arthur for answers. "What was that?"

He's already buttoning his pants as he tries to put on his boots. "I don't know, but it ain't good." He puts on his shirt aimlessly. "I need you to stay inside while I go see what it is."

You're out of bed when you hear another round of firing, this one more prolonged. You both freeze at the sound of it.

"I'll go with you."

Arthur gives you a stern look, the kind you hear is best not to disobey. "No! Stay here!" On his way out, he stops abruptly by the door. "Close this door behind me and don't let anyone in!"

When you get to the dresser, you find an easy nightgown you can slip on, then you swiftly put on your shoes and your coat hanging by the door. You head directly to your kitchen for your shotgun, finding it where you always keep it. You step out onto your porch without thinking about what could be the origin of the blasts but willing to protect your home from it.

Arthur stands in your front yard, trying to figure out where the sound is coming from. His gun belt is now placed on his hips, both of his guns drawn. When he hears you come outside, he turns angrily. "Damn it, I told you to stay inside!" He steps closer to convince you to go back in. "Get in there!"

You check your shotgun to see if it's still loaded. "I can protect myself, Arthur. And I need to protect my home." You slam the weapon shut, annoyed at his insistence of you cowering inside. "I'm not going anywhere, Arthur."

You can see he's vexed for not getting his way. The unrelenting stare you give him is enough to make him give in. "Get behind me."

You follow Arthur as he moves further into the yard, hoping to see anything that might give him reason to shoot. You stay close to him since he looks to be a better shot than you, brandishing two heavy weapons that are no match to your lone gun. You both take cover side by side when you reach the fence enclosing your yard.

You stay on the lookout for some time, suspicious of the eerie silence that has fallen since the last shots were heard, worried that the trouble will reach you any moment. Nothing like this has ever happened in the few years you have lived here, so you're distraught that you might be in imminent danger at your own place of refuge. You're relieved the night is pitch black so Arthur can't see the fear in your widened eyes.

After a few minutes that seem like hours, Arthur finally spots something in the distance, the sharp turn of his head giving it away. You follow his gaze to see the nearby road, you see moving glimmers of light, accompanied by the growing thunder of hooves stomping heftily on the ground. About a dozen horses by the sound of it.

When you both realize they are headed in your direction, Arthur straightens his stance, cocking his guns determinedly as he aims at whoever comes at you. He moves closer to you, placing himself in front of you to shield you from any harm, his back pressing at your shoulder as you cock your own shotgun to the side before pointing it in his guns' direction. You hope he doesn't notice how badly it shakes in your quivering hands, a knot now tight around your stomach as you begin to forget how to breathe.

His instruction is almost imperceptible. "Stay behind me no matter what."

You both secure your aim as you watch a team of ten horses invade your property, the glow of lamps hanging from them, lighting up the field around you as they approach, illuminating the men riding them as they come into view. Their light campaign hats are the first thing you notice, placed high on their heads, sets of matching gloves holding the reigns, carrying long-barreled guns. Their distinctive blue uniforms look worn out as the army men steer closer to you, marching into your property without permission. They do not come in peace.

The arrival of an army battalion under the cover of night is a terrifying image, your senses overwhelmed by the unexpected show of force. You recall that the horsemen of the apocalypse are supposed to be four, not ten.

"Hold your fire!" The words come from the commanding officer leading the pack but you're not sure if they are meant for the other officers or for you and Arthur. You both tighten the grip on your guns. "Hold your fire, men!" Your heart feels like it's bound to leave your chest as the horses slow to a gallop in front of you, the faces of the officers coming into view. "They're civilians."

Arthur's back is now leaning further into you as he tries to protect you from them, you can feel his chest swelling, suspicious of their intentions as they begin to halt their horses. It's clear you are completely outnumbered. "What's your business here?" he demands sternly. "This land here is private." You follow his lead and try not to panic as you barely keep the shotgun straight over his shoulder.

"At ease! My name is First Lieutenant Roger Brown with the United States Army. I assure you we mean you no harm." The man dismounts while Arthur watches him like a hawk. His voice is loud and authoritative. "Perhaps you can lower your weapons and we can talk." It's a threat in the guise of a suggestion.

You wait for Arthur's move to follow his lead. After a few seconds of pondering, realizing he is completely outgunned, he slowly lowers his guns, nestling them inside their holsters, but not removing his hands from his gun belt, in case he needs to draw them again. He motions to rise and leave his cover and you follow suit, staying behind him as he requested, leaning into his side as you keep your eyes on the battalion. You drop your shotgun in a quick swoop, your arms trembling with fright.

"Now that's more like it!" The lieutenant has only said a few words but something about him is as disturbing as his unbecoming grin. "We're looking for an escaped convict from Fort Wallace. He was just seen around these parts a few moments ago by our officers. I'm sure you heard their encounter." The other army men now gather around him as he tries to assuage you. They continue to hold their guns threateningly, even though they're not aiming. "We're searching the area to try to locate him. We need to have a look around to see if he's not trying to hide here."

"There's no else here." If Arthur is intimidated or fearful he doesn't show it, but you can feel him burning hot with anger.

The lieutenant now stands directly in front of you. He's almost Arthur's height. "I'm afraid we can't take your word for it. We need to make sure he's not hiding inside." He looks directly at you, sending a shiver down your spine. "Did you see anything?"

Arthur speaks for you, he must sense how scared you are as he continues to cover you. "No." There is a brief pause. "My wife and I were just sleeping." His words don't have time to sound in your head as you're too overwhelmed with dread.

"Ah, of course. Well, we still need to search." He instructs three of his privates to look for the escapee out back in the stable while he and a few officers look inside your house, the rest keeping watch over you and the horses. "We won't take long."

You realize that they are about to invade your home, wrecking it apart without your permission to try to find a man that's not there. "Just make sure you don't take anything!" Your words boil over like poison as your fear mixes with rage.

"Oh, there's nothing to worry about, Mrs...?"

"Brooks." You spit out your own married name without thinking.

"Don’t worry, Mrs. Brooks. We're here to protect you." The man gives you a nauseating grin.

You watch as the two groups of soldiers disband to search your property. Your instinct is to retaliate and stop them from reaching the threshold and you feel your body move a few feet until you feel a hand reach one of your own.

You turn around to see it's Arthur's, stopping you from going forward as he tries to look into your eyes, his stare glowing with the light of the lamps. He presses your hand tightly, rubbing his thumb on its back. His other hand reaches your shoulder as he tries to ground you. It's only now you realize your chest is rising frantically, your nose flaring as your breath hitches, your palms sweaty as your knees buckle. He tries to soothe you back into stillness, his eyes worried as he watches your petrified state. "Breathe, darling."

You try to steady your breaths as you realize you're panicking, overwhelmed with the menace not just in your yard, but now on your porch too as they enter the door to your sacred home.

Eventually, the agitation begins to subside, noticing Arthur is standing by you, still protecting you, even without a raised gun. You don't know what you would do if he wasn't here right now.

When you hear a loud noise inside your house, you turn to try to see what they're doing, a futile effort. Arthur's grip on you keeps anchoring you down and you turn back to him as you try to hold back tears. He nestles your head in the crook of his neck, shielding you from seeing your home invaded, swaying you softly to ease your distress. You feel him exhale with hostility beneath you, his head moving as he remains on the lookout.

Your mutual fury begins to subside after a few minutes, even though you're both still very tense. The fear soon turns into impatience as the officers continue to search your house. If they were to find someone else inside, they would have done it by now. Arthur lets go of your hand as you move to sit briefly on the ground, finding it uncomfortable as you feel too jumpy to stay still. You're pacing around when you finally hear someone step into the porch. You absentmindedly seek Arthur's hand before terror sets in again.

The privates start to leave your house, each one stepping down back into the yard, Lieutenant Brown leaving last, an uneasy satisfaction on his face. The other officers sent to your stable also return and the whole battalion soon returns to their horses.

"It looks like the convict isn't here after all," Brown admits as he walks past you. You wait for the utterance of an apology but none comes.

"That's what I said." Arthur's voice is low with indignation and you fear he might get physical.

"But you could've been lying, couldn't you, my good man?" He gives Arthur a wicked smile and you feel his hand clench harder around you. "Still, should the need arise, we might come back if he's seen around here again." The idea makes your lungs tighten. "I suggest you remain on alert. The convict is armed and dangerous." Not as dangerous as ten armed soldiers, you think. "Have a goodnight, Mr. Brooks. Mrs. Brooks." Lieutenant Brown tips the brim of his hat to you from his horse and you truly hope this is the last time you see his vile face.

You watch as they leave, galloping away out of your property, leaving you and Arthur in pitch darkness again, robbed of a night's rest and your whole sense of security.

It's only when Arthur is sure they have gone that he looks down at you, still clutching his hand firmly, your other hand now clinching his upper arm, your shotgun forgotten as it hangs on your shoulder. He gives you a moment as you place your head on his shoulder, his whole side slumping as you try to sink your dread into him. "It's over, darling, they're gone." You feel your tears fall as they wet his shirt underneath you. "Nobody's gonna hurt you. I won’t let it happen." At that moment it's only Arthur, the dead silence, and the weak moonlight trying to ease your fears.

Arthur eventually gets you to sit down on the stairs of your porch when you're calm enough to hold your own head. He kneels by you for a few seconds when he places a soft kiss on your temple, soothing your forearms with the warmth of his hands. When he hears a noise in the distance he turns in its direction, placing his grip on his gun belt, removing it when he notices it’s just a lone rabbit in the woods nearby.

When your breathing normals and your eyes go dry, you gain the courage to finally head inside. “I should go see if they took anything.”

Arthur nods. “I’ll go check on the horses.” He rubs your shoulder a few times, making sure you’re well enough to be left alone for a few minutes. “Keep your gun with you.” His words remind you of the remaining threat of the escaped convict. He watches you head inside before he leaves. The inside of your cottage is not ransacked like you feared but you immediately sense some things have been moved, a strange aura hanging in the air. At first glance, some of the carpets are turned over and a few of the cabinets in the kitchen are left slightly ajar. Some used glasses are sitting on the table, the expensive bottle of whiskey Arthur got you now empty. Only a few bits of glazed apple are all that remain on the plate of your pie. It infuriates you they abused your home like this. What’s worse is you couldn’t fight back.

You go to your bedroom to see if they’ve taken anything else. The bed sheets are scrambled and the mattress is out of place, definitely not like you left it. Your clothes from last night are still tumbled on the floor. You pick them up as you watch your clean clothes ruffled inside the open armoire, the drawers of the dresser disturbed. However, upon closer inspection, nothing seems to be missing, not even the pieces of jewelry hidden inside one of your shoes. They must have not looked inside. You open the drawer containing your husband’s correspondence and see that they didn’t take your wedding ring either, still tucked away in the corner, hidden by some envelopes.

After you push the dresser to the side with some force, you lift a false floorboard, the hiding place where you stash your money and a few pieces of gold in a small pouch. You sigh of relief when you count and everything is there, even your husband’s gold pocket watch. When you conceal your hiding place again, you see your empty purse tossed on the floor. The six dollars and thirty-five cents you had are missing. You pick it up as you feel your cheeks flush with rage.

When you are through returning tossed things to their rightful place, you look around to make sure nothing else was taken. The soldiers seem to have contented themselves with just a few lousy dollars and a stomach full of liquor. You’d pity their misery if they weren’t such ruthless thugs. When you return to your porch, relieved that the looting wasn’t worse but dismayed that it still happened, you see Arthur in front of the stairs, still keeping watch. He turns to you, visibly upset from what happened and, even worse, from letting it happen. “Everything ok?” He speaks as gently as he can in a deeper tone. You know he’s not asking about the house but rather about you.

You nod lightly and somehow you feel like crying again. You try to stay strong so he doesn’t think you’re so pitiful. “Just took some money. A few dollars I had in my purse.”

“Goddamn bastards. Scum of the earth is what they are.”

You sit back down on the same step you sat before. The night seems to be coming to an end as the darkness begins to disappear, the blue grass now getting greener.

“Drank the whiskey too and the rest of the pie." It saddens you Arthur will not savor the rest of the pie he liked so much. "I’m sorry.”

“There ain't nothing for you to be sorry for. It ain't your fault." He sits down next to you with a self-reproaching grunt.

"It ain't your fault either. There was nothing we could do." You catch his eyes as he tries to believe you, swallowing down his remorse. "I'm glad you were here."

Arthur wraps his arm around you. "Me too, darling." His gaze remains on you as he tries to assess your well-being as you look out into the empty yard. "Why don't you head inside, get some sleep? I'll keep watch."

"No. I can't sleep right now." You place your shotgun by your side, in case you need to use it.

"Ok." He stares out into the emptiness with you, watching the sky as it's painted with hues of blue, pink, and orange. You both relish the birds as they begin to sing, the only sounds echoing in the otherwise quiet distance.

Arthur strokes the blade of your shoulder for a long time as if it might undo the night you're living, hoping it turns into an uneventful day. After some time, it almost works. You start to feel lighter as the panic leaves your body, accompanied by the welcomed sedative of owed sleep as your head falls gradually until it hits his shoulder. He snuggles you closer as you surrender to the cozy feeling of his warm embrace.

A few words come back to you while you're still awake. My wife and I were just sleeping. A harmless lie to protect you from a cruel world, you figure. His reasoning must be that they would be less likely to hurt you with a husband by your side. He doesn't know you're actually married, so it must just be happenstance. You don't dwell much on it, too tired to process the implications it has on you and the man who said it.

The first sun rays finally reach the tallest trees in the distance before you feel your lids close, drifting off to a better dream, one where Arthur keeps holding you tight.

When you open your eyes gain, you can't be sure if you've slept five minutes or five hours. You wake up lying on your bed, covered with your quilt up to your shoulders. You see the coat you had on hanging in its place by the door, the sun entering your window as bright as ever as the morning reaches its conclusion. The birds and the breeze are the only thing you hear and for a moment you think you're alone in your house, just like on any other day. Maybe everything that happened was all a dream, even him.

"Arthur?" You call out his name and you hope you're wrong.

You hear loud steps on the porch and in your living room before he reaches your door. The man you dreamed about is real after all.

"Hey." By the appearance of his face, you gather he hasn't slept a wink, his shoulders burdened with weariness. The memory of this morning comes flooding in as you realize why. He's still guarding your home. He's still guarding you. "You ok?"

You sit up on the bed. "I'm fine." The sleep you got has calmed you but you still ache with sadness.

He sits down on your side of the bed, careful not to sit on your feet. "One of the soldiers just came by up the road. It seems they caught the bastard a few miles from here, hiding out in an abandoned barn." He takes your closest hand in his. "None of them are gonna trouble you no more." You believe him as he looks you in the eye.

"I'm glad." You feel yourself exhale a long-repressed breath.

"You need anything?"

"No."

"You gonna be ok?" You can tell he's still deeply worried about you.

"Yes." You try to make him believe you as you look him in the eye.

He stares down at his boots before he gets the courage to say the next few words. "I'm afraid I gotta go. I have work." The thought of him leaving feels you with dread again. "But I'd like to come back. Make sure you're safe."

"I'll be fine." You move your lips to give him an uneasy smile.

"Still… I’ll sleep better if I see you.” You can see him slouching from his exhaustion, his lids heavy with need.

"Then sleep here." You reach out to hold both of his hands to keep him from rising from your bed.

"Sweetheart, I can't, I've got to get going..." He barely moves as he attempts to convince you in his sluggish state.

"You need rest, Arthur. Rest here."

You pull his arms up to you and you feel very little resistance, his fatigue getting the better of him. His whole body slumps next to you as you remove his hat and his bulky boots. His head is on your pillow when you rejoin him, his eyes almost closed as they look down at you. "Don't let me sleep too much," he mutters as your forehead nestles against his jaw and you curl up into him.

"I won't. Just close your eyes now."

You feel the tension in his body disperse as he finally lets his guard down. His deep breaths soon flutter in your hair while you soothe his arm over the fabric of his shirt, the front still stained from your apple pie. You continue to comfort him even after he is relaxed enough to fall asleep, his chest swelling with long languid breaths. The smell of tobacco and sweat becomes more intoxicating the more you breathe him in.

You're delighted that a man of his size can unwind so quickly next to you. You’d never imagine you could be this comfortable with anyone, let alone that you’d get so intimate this fast, a closeness that now seems to be growing beyond your lustful bond.

He’s now trusting enough to believe you when you tell him he needs rest. Thoughtful enough to carry you to your bed when you fall asleep. Strong enough to calm you when you panic. Brave enough to shield you when you're threatened. Caring enough to lie and call you his wife to protect you from bad men.

Years of marriage have certainly not gotten you any of this and now you wonder if it should have. Being married to an affectionate man was never an option but perhaps there is a different reality that you could've had. Maybe you still can, now that you glimpse at it as Arthur breathes into your hair, swaying under your palm, throwing your whole predictable world in disarray.

For now you decide to bask in the distance of the future and the remoteness of consequences, realizing your whole life is being pulled into a whirlwind as you pull closer against his chest. You soon regain sleep as a pretend Mrs. Brooks and, for a moment, being married isn't so bad. Not if it's to him.

A/N: Sleepy Arthur Morgan, am I right??

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fanfiction #goodmorgan

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