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thechaoticdruid · 3 months

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[Firsts] (1/2)

Pairing: Astarion x Named F!Tav

Plot: Astarion's been acting way too flirty lately. Seriously it was starting to weird Winnie out. She knew the man flirted with pretty much everyone in the group, but lately since she'd given him a taste of her blood it seemed much more targeted at her and very aggressive. Could he actually be attracted to her? Pfft! No way!

Content/Warnings: Sexual themes, sexual humor, light smut, no actual sex yet, making out, dry humping, groping, violence, blood, death, Winnie has very low self esteem, Astarion being a perv, Virgin MC, Astarion bullies Gale, Gale has one sided crush on MC, oblivious MC, Astarion being Astarion, body issues.

Second part: [2/2]

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Things had kinda been weird for Winnie ever since she'd discovered one of her companions was a vampire. Astarion had always been rather flirtatious with the members of their merry band of weirdos, but now it was different. Ever since he'd gotten a taste of her blood his flirtations seem much more targeted towards her.

Winnie would most often brush them aside. It didn't mean anything after all. Either Astarion was just a naturally flirty person or he wanted to butter her up so she'd be more likely to let him have more of her blood. The female druid was certain these flirtations weren't anything serious.

Men like Astarion did not pursue women like Winnie. The human female wasn't exactly sure anyone would ever pursue her, but it definitely wouldn't be someone as breathtakingly beautiful as the pale elf.

Winnie glanced around the blighted village before pushing through the door of an old abandoned house as she began to remember something one of the elder druids in her circle said when she was a child. “She's nothing but a weed amongst the flowers.” The old bitch had said. Winnie rolled her eyes with a sigh as the others scouted the area.

“This looks like a suitable place to make camp.” Gale stated, looking around.

“It'll serve.” Lae'zel added and dropped her pack on the ground near an old fireplace.

“It'll be nice to at least have a roof over our heads for once.” Shadowheart chimed in as she walked over and glanced over an arrangement of books that littered one of the walls.

“Pft, if you can even call it that! This hovel is practically crumbling!” Astarion exclaimed.

“If you'd prefer to sleep elsewhere, be my guest.” Winnie replied before setting her own things down.

Wyll looked over the fireplace and checked around the house for any fire wood, but unfortunately there didn't appear to be any in sight.

“We might want to go find some wood to build a fire before nightfall.” He suggested.

“I can do that.” Winnie stood up, “I'll see if there's anything else we can scavenge nearby.”

“I'll go with you. It would only be the gentlemanly thing to do, accompanying a lady.” Gale piped up.

“Yeah sure, come if you want.” Winnie shrugged before turning and leaving the ruined house.

Gale followed after her before the two were also accompanied by Astarion.

“I’m coming too.” He said, sauntering up behind Winnie.

“I'm surprised Astarion. I didn't think manual labor was your forte, nor yours either Gale.” The druid female hummed.

“Well I'm not about to let you go and do all the work alone!” The wizard added.

“And I never said I was going to help, watch Gale fail miserably to impress you perhaps, but I am certainly not going to risk damaging these nails for firewood.” Astarion sassed looking over his pointed vampire spawn claws with a pout.

Winnie rolled her eyes, ”good gods, might as well have let me go alone.” The druid female muttered, walking off ahead of the two men. Her eyes scanned the blighted village. The place was crawling with goblins and even though they let the party pass through on the count of them being ‘True Souls’ Winnie wasn't very convinced that they would be friendly enough to offer her group supplies.

Her and the boys continued to search about, Astarion seeming all too pleased to give Gale a hard time today. Eventually after passing a large gate and strolling towards the edge of the ruined village the three adventures came across a shed.

Winnie stepped towards it, immediately coming to a halt as she began to hear low grunts and moans coming from the other side of the door.

“Oh dear….” Gale exclaimed, a look of horror adorning his bearded face.

“Do I even want to know…?” Winnie turned pale with disgust.

“I do! Sounds absolutely disgusting heh heh heh..”Astarion chuckled with a mischievous glint in his crimson red eyes.

“You want to take a peek be my guest, but don't expect me to rush in after you.” Winnie rolled her eyes looking back at Astarion.

“And here I thought you'd be interested in joining the fun, darling.” Astarion gave Winnie a wink before swinging the door open, a giddy shit eating grin spreading across the pale elf's face.

“Oh gods….” Winnie gasped as she and Gale looked forward seeing a bugbear and a lady ogre in the ahem doggy style position. The two humans' faces were filled with horror and disgust while Astarion still had that same stupid grin on his face.

“WHAT THE HELLS ARE YOU DOING!?” The bugbear screamed as he pulled away from his lover.

“Uh…. I'm very sorry! W-We were just leaving!” Winnie said nervously, face turning red in embarrassment.

“You two make a lovely couple by the way!” Gale said, trying to deflect any tension, but the two lovers did not seem to appreciate the compliment.

“Kinky.” Astarion clicked his tongue with a smirk.

“MOMENT RUINED! I SMASH YOU!” The ogre suddenly pulled out a huge club and slammed it down right in Winnie's direction. Luckily the druid was able to leap back just in the nick of time.

The bugbear began to charge in her direction only to receive an arrow to his shoulder, swiftly shot by Astarion who’d quickly climbed atop some nearby crates. Winnie quickly unsheathed her scimitars from her back, rushing the bugbear and slashing him across the chest. The she-ogre growled and took another swing at Winnie, prompting Gale to cast magic missile hitting both the ogre and bugbear.

The bugbear let out a loud scream of pain before dropping down onto the ground.

“NO GRUKKOH!!!” The ogre shouted, tears welling up in her eyes before she glared at Gale with pure hate and rage. “YOU WILL DIE!!!!”

Quickly before she can move to smite Gale with her club Astarion is quick to notch an arrow and fire it, hitting the ogre right in the left eye. Gale hits her with a bolt of lightning before Winnie makes a dash to run behind her. She then turns and uses her druidic magic to summon a vine from her hand and lasso the ogre’s leg, yanking on it hard. The beastly female tumbled back letting out a cry as she fell to the ground.

Winnie then took the opportunity to leap up on top of her and slam her scimitars right down into the ogre’s chest, piercing her heart. Blood splattered upon the druid as she pulled her blades out of the she-beast’s chest, getting on her face and shoulders. She panted and hopped down off the large corpse. Astarion's ears turned a bit pink as he glanced over at the blood drenched female. Honestly he had to admit…..That was kind of hot…

“A pity we had to put an end to the two lovers.” Gale spoke up.

“Better them than me.” Winnie said wiping a bit of blood off her face.

“Darling, hold on a moment. Allow me to help.” Astarion said, quickly rushing over to where the human female stood. Her strange fushia colored eyes looked back at him with curiosity. The vampire ran his thumb over her cheek, collecting a bit of blood before all too eagerly sucking it off his digit. His thumb pulled out of his mouth with a wet pop. “That was a very….enticing display you know?~” He purred seductively in her ear just quiet enough for Gale not to hear.

“Uh…Thanks…” Winnie looked off to the side checks turning bright red.

“Ahem! Well shouldn't we return to work? The sun’s nearly gone and we have yet to find some firewood!” Gale piped up, trying to change the subject before stepping in between the rogue and druid.

“Actually darling, I think our dear druid should probably take a rest. She did most of the fighting after all.” Astarion put his hand on Gale’s shoulder. “And offering to get the firewood for her would definitely be the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“You're not going to offer to help me are you?” Gale rose an eyebrow.

“Oh gods no! My dear wizard, you can't expect me to leave this sweet little thing all by herself?” Astarion said before moving piece of Winnie’s messy brown locks out of her face.

“I'm perfectly fine guys….I can actually just go get the wood by myself….” Winnie said feeling Astarion's hungry eyes leering at her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. Why was he being so aggressive with his flirting today?

Winnie wasn't exactly too worn out, but at the same time she really didn't feel like feeding this overgrown mosquito tonight. Partially because she had been getting devoured by actual mosquitoes left and right since they’d wondering the wilderness.

“I'm not sure if it's wise to leave a lamb alone with a wolf.” Gale gave Astarion a suspicious glare.

“Hey! If anyone’s a wolf it's me!” Winnie pouted and crossed her arms. She was rather offended Gale didn't seem to acknowledge her most used wildshape.

“A wolf and a panther then.” Gale said.

“How dare you! I would never lay a finger on our darling leader!” Astarion crossed his arms.

“Okay, I think we've wasted enough time already.” Winnie said before wild-shaping into a black bear and wandering off to collect the wood herself.

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Later that evening after Winnie had brought back the firewood she shifted back into her human form and hid herself away from the others, making herself comfortable in what was left of the ruined house’s bedroom. She glanced up at the mirror beside her, studying her face. Dark circles colored underneath her eyes, left by sleepless nights. Messy brown locks that never behaved no matter what she did. A scarred lip from her first real battle. And her body oh how she despised it. It was far too plump for her tastes.

"Nothing but a weed amongst the flowers."

“Why would anyone ever fall in love with you? You're disgusting!”

“Just as fat as a deep rothé and twice as ugly!”

“She's definitely gonna die alone.”

Winnie’s brows knitted together before she stood up and slammed the mirror into the wall, shattering it into a million tiny pieces. She breathed in and out, taking a moment to process what she had just done. The young druid honestly had no idea what had come over her. Why were these tormentful thoughts all coming back now?

Surely there were better things to be thinking about!? The disgusting parasite in her brain for one! She needed to get it together, or risk turning into something much more grotesque.

Winnie needed to get some air. She left the house through the back entrance and stepped off into the nearby forest, breathing in and out slowly. She closed her eyes and just took a moment to listen to all the soothing sounds of nature. Frogs croaking, crickets chirping, an owl hooting above the trees and footsteps…

Wait, footsteps!?

Winnie quickly turned around, her hand reaching into her pack for a blade when she noticed a familiar pair of red eyes looking back at her.

“I was hoping I'd finally be able to get you alone.~”

“Astarion? Look, I'm really not in the mood to give you blood tonight. Maybe tomorrow?” Winnie sighed and rubbed the back of her neck.

“Oh, I'm not here for that darling. I'm here for you.” Astarion approached, eyes looking her up and down as his perfect pretty lips formed a painfully fake looking smile.

“You need my help with something?” Winnie tilted her head in confusion.

“In a manner of speaking. I've grown rather attached to you if I'm honest.” Astarion placed a hand on his hip.

“Ah, well that's sweet of you to say. I'm really glad to have made some friends on this journey.” Winnie said with a smile.

“Oh my sweet. I'm not talking about friendship. I'm talking about desire.~” Astarion leaned a bit closer. His breath hit Winnie’s face as he slightly towered over the short female.

“I…. Don't follow….” Winnie said awkwardly. Astarion blinked and then proceeded to pinch the bride of his nose.

“Oh for gods sake. SEX. Darling, I'm talking about sex.” Astarion said with annoyance, crossing his arms. Winnie’s face turned bright red as he finally spelled it out. It finally explained why he seemed so aggressive with his flirting lately. But at the same time Winnie just couldn't believe Astarion was actually making a pass at her. Her of all people!

“You're joking, right?” Winnie chuckled nervously.

“Why would I be?” Astarion gave her a confused look.

“Wouldn't you rather spend a night with one of the others? Lae'zel or Shadowheart? Or maybe even Wyll?” Winnie asked.

“Ha! Please. As if I'd waste my time with one of them! I have standards, dear.” Astarion said sassily.

“I'm just…You have seen me right?” Winnie said, looking away shyly. Astarion couldn't help but frown for a moment. Winnie seemed very....well insecure. It was clear she didn't seem to believe he could in any way find her attractive. He was however quick to resume his flirty persona.

“Indeed, I have and I find you to be rather delectable looking.~”

“Yeah, yeah stop messing with me, okay. It's not funny.” Winnie rolled her eyes and turned to leave. Astarion internally panicked. Fuck. He couldn't let her leave. It would completely ruin his plans!

“I'm not! I crave you!” Astarion quickly grabbed hold of her and pinned her to a tree. Winnie let out a grunt before looking up and blushing darkly.

“I want to feel you squirm under me.~” He said huskily. Winnie was at a complete loss for words. What the hells was she even supposed to fucking say to that!? Her heart was pounding so fast and she honestly felt like if he said one more word she'd faint right there. “And I know you want me too.~ I've seen how you look at me. How your heart races when I'm near. And don't think I haven't noticed the little lustful glances you give my backside you naughty thing!~”

“I-I-I…OKAY YOU'VE MADE YOUR POINT!” Winnie said, and pushed against him, making him back up. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take before she suddenly melted into a puddle. Winnie was not used to this kind of attention at all. “Sorry I just…I'm not used to this…” Winnie said, a bit embarrassed, “feel like I'm going to explode…Heheh…”

“Cute.” Astarion smirked at Winnie’s nervousness.

“I've never been with anyone if I'm honest….Hells I’ve never even been kissed.” Winnie looked down, honestly feeling rather ashamed.

Oh gods, why did you say that!? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Astarion then gently took her hand, “I would be happy to teach you.” He said before planting a soft kiss on her hand. Winnie took a deep breath, nervousness filled her belly. She looked into his eyes and nodded, “okay.”

Astarion cupped her cheek, his crimson red eyes staring into her pink ones as he rubbed a cold thumb over her cheek. Winnie closed her eyes and puckered her lips, slowly anticipating for him to make the next move. She felt his breath hit her face before his soft lips met her own. At first it was sweet and innocent, nothing but a chaste little peck. But then he pushed her back up against the tree and pressed his body against hers. Winnie gasped feeling Astarion grind himself against her, allowing him to snake his tongue into her mouth deeping their kiss. His free hand reached down to cup one of her ass cheeks, giving it a firm squeeze through her pants.

“Mmmm!” Winnie moaned into his mouth, her arms slowly finding their way around his neck as she squirmed. She could feel a hard growing bulge prod her core as he pushed his hips against her own. His tongue swirled around her own, exploring and dominating her mouth, but eventually she was forced to pull back for air. A string of saliva connected their mouths as they pulled back. Winnie panted, staring back at the vampire who was seductively licking his lips. One of his hands was still groping her ass.

“A-Ah!~” The brunette haired druid let out a whimper as the elf pressed his clothed cock into her.

“You make such adorable sounds, darling.” He purred before planting another kiss on her lips. Winnie quickly returned it before Astarion began to move down her jaw, trailing kisses lower.

His tongue lapped over her neck before he quickly began to suck on the delicate skin eagerly.

He kept one hand on her ass while the other reached up to undo her the buttons of her shirt.

Winnie bit her lip as she felt the cool air hit her breasts, her nipples hardening quick.

Astarion smirked, his eyes hungrily eyeing her well endowed assets. Who knew she could fit something so big under her shirt? If he'd known they were this large he'd have bedded her sooner. Astarion licked his lips before leaning in to plant a kiss on top of one of her breasts. Unfortunately before his mouth could make contact with her skin he ended up being rudely interrupted.

“There you two are-” Gale's voice trailed off, his face turned bright red.

“Is everything okay….Oh….” Wyll’s eyes widened as he peaked out from behind Gale.

“What is it? Did something happen!? Oh well that's interesting…” Shadowheart said, appearing behind Wyll.

“Chk! As expected. It was only a matter of time.” Lae'zel seemed completely unfazed as she stood beside Shadowheart.

“Ooh Winnie! Get it!” Karlach cheered, jumping out from behind the others, tail wagging with excitement.

“Do you fucking mind!?” Astarion hissed and pulled back, glaring at the others as Winnie quickly turned away and buttoned up her shirt. This was so fucking embarrassing! Her pink eyes quickly scanned the area for a hole to crawl inside.

“And here I was worried you were planning on eating our dear friend. Although I suppose I'm technically not wrong….” Gale hummed.

To be continued………

Note From TheChaoticDruid: Just gonna say, the last part was inspired by an infamous Dragon Age Inquisition scene. XD And I was going to try to fit both parts into one, but it just got so long that I decided to cut it in half.

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makriiii · 11 months

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Caught Ⅲ (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 3.1k

Authors notes: Sorry for the slow uploads. Btw, when I copy-paste this from my notes app, tumblr double spaces my paragraphs and I'm too lazy to change it. 😭

Warnings: 18+, angst, & cursing.

Pt1! Or pt4

Wattpad or Ao3

♡

Caught Ⅲ

The land around you briskly faced a blanket of darkness as the sun had just set, the colors had kept you busy for just a stint, longing for them as they faded into deep shades of gray and blue.

People were now rekindling their fires from the night previous, preparing for dinner, a preparation you didn't need to worry yourself with, as much as you wished you did.

Keiran was across from you, and despite being part of your gang, you hadn't exchanged many words. He never did seem too fond of the gang.

Neither of you conversed, not only due to the fact that he tried desperately to distance himself from being an O'Driscoll, but because everyone in camp would also be part of the conversation.

With Keiran ignoring you, and Dutch's gang shunning you, you may as well have been the naughty kid who sat in the corner with a dunce cap on.

The only thing that kept your sanity was finding out that, Arthur, so you came to know, had taken your horse with him that day.

With nothing to do but sit defeated, you zoned out, staring at your horse. The thoughts of escaping with her danced around in your head.

Revenge didn't even cross your mind, in fact, at this point you were willing to let it all go, so long as you had your horse.

Rival gang members came and went, gawking at both of you like zoo animals. At one point, a lady who seemed personally victimized by Keiran had come and dropped food on him.

You were slightly taken aback by her actions, you were hoping it wasn't just for the fact he's an O'Driscoll, otherwise you felt you'd be next.

It was clear you weren't welcome despite being forced to stay and by all means you were happy to leave if they'd allow it. You'd even take Keiran along as well, but they had no such plans.

Out of all the people who roamed before you, your eyes met with one, much to your despair.

You had had enough of the man over these past days when he would check on you, once or twice each day, occasionally giving you water but only teasing you with food.

He kept to asking you and Keiran both, where on earth Colm was, and on that earth, you couldn't give him the darndest of answers.

Each time threatening to rid of both of you right here and there every time you gave him the same answer.

He was no man to play games with, but you still played them. He threatened it but never did actually point the barrel of his gun at you again. You shivered as a small ache crept from your arm just thinking about it.

With the eye contact you regrettably made, Arthur finally decided he'd saunter over and have a friendly little chat with you.

You shifted your weight uncomfortably, your arms and shoulders hurting with every second you didn't stay still.

He seemed to have this look in his eye that you couldn't quite place.

"I reckon it's time to change that bandage of yours." He commented, half gesturing for your arm before looking down and reaching into his satchel.

You didn't want him to touch you, hell, you didn't even want that stinking man anywhere in your sights.

"No, please. I'd rather it get infected so god can take care of it instead." You dismissed, kicking out your leg in an attempt to wave him off since you couldn't use your arm to do so.

He snickered as he crouched down beside you, moving for his knife, and to your surprise, he started cutting at the ropes that kept you tethered to the tree.

"That'd be a good few weeks of worse pain before it finally took you, pain I can just save you from now."

"There's a lot you could've saved me from, not being a poor aim on the day you shot me would've been it." Jeering at him with sass.

Any relief you would have felt from the breakage of your bounds was cut short as you hissed out a gasp of pain.

His large, calloused hand wrapped and dug in just above your wound.

Your instinctual reaction had your right hand balled into a fist and swinging around into a hook that landed sweetly on the side of his face before you could do anything about it, or so that's what you claimed.

It caught him off-guard, taking him a second to react, by which he squeezed your arm even harder and reached for your other wrist in a tight, abrasive grasp.

You cried out while he manhandled you. "Fuck- quit grabbin' me like that, you big brute!" You stirred under him, but he kept you still in an almost a perfect manner.

The whole commotion caught everyone's attention, their turned heads held looks of confusion and surprise.

"Im tryna help your ass, woman." He snarled, keeping you from jerking around. "Hold damn still before I save myself the trouble instead."

You looked away, mumbling a curse under your breath. By no means did you relax, but you stopped fidgeting, he cautiously let go. His eyes burned holes through you as he did.

Suddenly, he reached for your buttoned shirt, you flinched back in befuddled surprise.

"Just what the hell do you think this is?" You demanded, fully desiring to line up another fist to his face, if it wasn't for the control he had over you with clasping your arm.

"Your sleeve doesn't roll up that far. Didn't I tell you to hold still?"

You felt overwhelmed with rage, and worst yet, you couldn't do anything about it.

"Don't look at me like that, how else do you think I took care of this for you before?" He adds, leaving you in silence.

A man undoing your shirt wasn't the problem. The man doing it, was.

"I was hoping you had left me in the care of one of the more dignified ladies here."

"You wandered off so far from where we camped, you would've died before then." He counters, shaking his head.

"And I would have thanked you, if you left it at that." You stayed arguing, but slighted your head up, giving him easier access to your buttons.

His eyes flickered from your face and to your shirt for a moment at your small gesture.

"Left it at that? Nah, I couldn't let you get away with all that money." He takes a moment, unbuttoning your shirt half way, exposing most of your bra.

It was enough to get your arm out but not leave much to the imagination.

"I was hopin you'd know more than your buddy, yet, neither of you annoying shits seem to recall jack all." He nagged, giving you a stern look before returning his gaze to your arm.

You couldn't say much in return when you felt him pinch and prod at your arm, needles running through your body.

You groaned your hurt, though he didn't seem to care much.

"Don't punch me again, y/n. I ain't beyond hittin' a lady like you."

You gave him a dismissive, smug look, shrugging your shoulder through the aching and burning he inflicted on you.

"I'll just skip that part and put a bullet through your other arm instead," he halts his medical measures and grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks in a firm grip. "You understand me?"

You shook your head away from his grasp, a small, childlike and petty desire to jab at him grew inside you.

"You sure feel me up a lot for someone who hates O'Driscolls so much." Your lips curl upward into a mischievous smile.

He raises a brow, leaning away from you, scoffing in disbelief.

"I'd prefer much anything over you, O'Driscoll." He gripes, returning back to your wound, unraveling the old bandage.

"Yeah, I can see that, considering you have me almost half undressed." You did your utmost to keep from looking at your wound, instead keeping your eyes on Arthur's face. His eyes kept strictly at your arm, never faltering as he lazily slathered on some sort of ointment.

"You're full of yourself. I wouldn't be doin' this if I didn't need to." He shakes his head.

As he finished with the fresh bandage, his hands finally had stopped poking you, leaving your arm in peace and an onset of relief.

"You know, I was thinkin' bout feedin you tonight," his words brought you back to how starving you were.

"Can't say I'm feelin' so kind now." His hand found the side of his face, his fingers inspecting the welt you had inflicted on his cheek.

Your stomach found his words utterly strangling, but begging him was out of the question.

"Dead people can't tell you where Colm is."

"So, the answer comes to you if you're fed?" His eyebrow shoots up, sarcasm plastered all over his freshly punched face.

"I can give you my best guess if you feed me." You explained, irritation being the entire undertone of your statement.

"You think guesses are gonna get you fed? Huh, girl?"

"That, or I simply wont have enough energy to think much on Colm." You cajoled, your smirk slowly returned.

"Careful with that mouth of yours, it's gettin' real tiresome." He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Yours reached that point way long ago." You fired back, his face now full of frustration.

"Glad to hear you're not hungry, O'Driscoll." He griped, returning rope to your wrists.

You full well expected it, but having them back on so soon displeased you beyond words.

Once he tied you up good, he got back up without a word and promptly left back to camp, leaving you alone on your tree once more.

You leaned your head back, wondering just how much longer they'd leave you tied up before they acted on their word of killing you both.

Minutes passed as you felt your eyelids get heavy, you didn't want to sleep, not until at least everyone else, but being tired, starving and having been shot only a few days ago left you exhausted.

"Don't you fall asleep yet, y/n." That man's voice chimed. You grimaced at his return.

The front of him was shadowed in contrast to his backside, which faced the camps fire light. You couldn't quite see what he held as he made for you.

"Couldn't get enough of me, huh?" You teased with a straight face, irritation filling you once more.

"You would like if I couldn't, wouldn't you?" A shit eating grin spread across his face at his own comeback.

You scoffed in response, staring him up and down as he got closer and to your surprise - the smell of food wafted into your nose.

Your whole body jolted with excitement, though, you couldn't tell just why he decided on feeding you.

He unties your wound-free arm, but hesitates when handing you the bowl in his hand.

"What?" You ask, looking up at him, his large frame towering over you.

"Say please." He demands, an evil look on his face.

"You're crazy. Now hand it here."

You reach for it but he pulls it away.

"Just say please, O'Driscoll." He laughs, taking a step back to avoid your waving arm.

"Quite actin' a fool and just give it to me." Your voice tightened with anger, your hunger almost possessed you into fighting him for it.

"Didn't anyone teach you manners? Please aint that hard to say."

"It is when the man you're saying it to is the same one that shot you. Now-" You reach again, your hand finally collecting the soup filled bowl.

You glanced back up at him, almost in shock that he actually let you grab it.

"Alright, alright, but next time, I expect some manners, O'Driscoll." He grins, knowing this set you off.

Next time? Next time, really? Your face furrowed with disbelief. "I'm happy you're an optimistic man, Arthur, but next time'll be in your dreams."

"Don't get too cocksure, darlin'."

"You know, you look pretty good when your face has a big red mark on it from my fist." You commented, shuffling in bites as you spoke.

"Really? Well, I think you also looked pretty good tied up all these days." He countered, the smile he had on his face ever growing.

That smile, on that nasty man. You hated it.

"Leave me to finish my food in peace."

He hums in consideration. "As much as I'd like to, you aint tied back to the tree."

You glower at him, desiring to eat slower so you could spend more time to rest your rope burned wrists, but ridding yourself of his presence felt more important.

You stayed silent as you finished the rest of your food, which didn't take long, tossing the dish to his feet and laying back on the tree so he could re rope you.

"That's what I like to see from you, O'Driscoll." He nods with approval.

You ignore him, your pride hurt with every moment more you had to give into this man and his crook gang.

He ties you back up and returns to the heart of camp.

It wasnt long before you finally dozed off.

(Set after the scene when Keiran gets interrogated.)

You sat petrified, still as the tree behind you, gelding tongs. They pulled down his pants for it too, if Keiran hadn't spoken up, you feared you'd be subject to it as well.

Goosebumps had crept up your back just thinking about those searing hot metal peices anywhere near your barren skin.

Keiran had finally come up with something.

Six point cabin.

You recalled having been there a few times, but was Colm up there? Your guess was as good as Keirans unless he actually was sure of it.

Arthur finally released Keiran from the tree, pushing him to the direction of the horses, then he came to you.

"You get to join us too, O'Driscoll." A small sinister smile creeps on his face, cutting through your ropes. "You better hope he's not trickin' us."

"Either way, if I'm rid of you, it's fine with me." He finishes, pulling you to your feet, guiding you to his mount.

"I'll get the most joy out of that, I reckon." You affirmed, somewhat stumbling as he releases you.

"Whatever you say, princess." He chuckles, closely following you.

Arthur calls out to a John and Bill, telling them just what's about to happen.

Keiran and a man with a nasty scar on his face were mounting, if you had to assume, the name John seemed best to suit him.

The other - Bill who had to be the man that threatened to 'geld' Keiran, coincidentally the one who also ratted on you that not so faithful day.

As you reluctantly walked along, you passed your steed you so woefully desired to mount instead, your ticket out of here. But Arthur quickly dismissed the thought for you, pushing you to his horse instead.

You gave him a hard stare in return, frustrated with his shoving.

"We're gonna pay your buddies our respects." He announces, entirely unconcerned.

"They taking us to Colm?" Questions John, steering his horse away.

"That's what he says." Arthur attempted to lift you up but you wave away his hands and pull yourself up instead, as much as your arm protested in agony.

Keiran stuttered out his assumption on where the cabin and Colm was, they pushed their horses in the opposite direction of camp.

Arthur mounted on after you, and for the first few moments you chose to hang on to nothing, however as if he knew, he kicked his horse to a trot, prompting you to grab at his sides.

Even underneath his layer of clothing, you could feel his heavyset build that helped keep you steady. Looking him up and down, a shiny metal caught your eye.

You were captivated at the sight of your revolver, missing the feel of it at your side and in your palm whenever you saw fit.

He had taken your gun as if you weren't still alive to be the owner of it.

You clenched your jaw, angry at everything and now finally riding to your more likely than not demise, worse yet, possibly executed with your own gun.

He kicked his horse into a lope, leaving you clinging to his sides firmly.

He turned to look over his shoulder at you, clearly in response to your tightened grip.

A small smirk crossed his lips before peering back to the trail up ahead.

The rest of the entire ride consisted of Keiran condemning O'Driscolls, bickering and directions shouted from you and Keiran.

It didn't take very long at the speed in which you rode, though you feared slipping off everytime you didn't have a good hold on Arthur.

You approached a small hill, Keiran confirmed the destination upon arrival.

"Okay, off your horses." Arthur draws back the reins. "Let's go." His voice now low in tone.

He jumps off and you follow suit shortly after, sliding off the back of his horse.

John reminded you and Keiran as you snuck forward, that he was keepijg his eye on you. Although you felt Arthur had beat him to it, he stared daggers at you as you crept along with the rest of them.

"I ain't gonna shop you now, come on." Keiran assures. "That'd be suicide."

"You'll die, boy. But you'll lose your balls first." Warned Bill, his gravelly voice blunt as could be.

Bill wasn't a man you wanted to be too close to with threats like that, so you kept closer to Arthur.

"Jesus christ…" Keiran murmured under his breath.

The lot of you kept low as you came to a ridge overlooking the cabin.

Keiran gave the rundown, confirming they were in fact armed, drunk and not fond of strangers.

Colm would be in the same way, just in the comfort of the cabin, which you agreed on.

Unlike Keiran's declared opposition, the O'Driscolls were a gang you rode with for a good while and despite Colm's nasty behavior, you felt a large sense of betrayal. Betrayal or your life, as it was now.

Your thoughts interrupted by three men emerging from the small cover of young trees, conversing about something miniscule and not far from earshot.

Suddenly Keiran was grabbed by John, a gun to his head and a hand over his mouth.

Arthur followed suit, pulling you into him, losing your balance with his sudden pull, your own gun held to your head and any potential cries for help blocked by his rough hand.

The now non existent barrier betwen your back and his chest was closed, you could feel each breath and each nervous heart beat agaisnt you.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #lemon fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption two #red dead fanfic #enemies to lovers #rdr2arthur #rdr2 #arthur morgan fanfiction

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overwatchfics · 2 years

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ok do you think you could write a little crack fic headcannon for some members of Overwatch and Talon reacting to Reader who has a puppet that they pull out of nowhere and no one has found out where they hide it also the puppet is grumpy and swears a lot

Mixed Characters with puppet hero

Puppets name is Jimbo

Tracer

Lena doesn't like swearing, but damn when she hears Jimbo cussing out some poor recruit on base, she can't help but crack up

If it's at her she actually gets invested in an argument

way too invested to where she's saying bloody hell every 3 seconds into the argument

Seeing her genuinely get fired up at a puppet amuses you and so you keep doing it until she decides she's had enough and kisses you to shut up the puppet

Kiriko

Has a fox puppet and will play around with you

Though she usually has to prepare or look for her own she has no clue where you store your puppet to have it come to life out of no where

you two would run a puppet show on youtube with subtitles tbh, though it's mostly for the little girl and the grandpa (In the cinematic)

Kiriko makes sure Jimbo stays kid friendly for those, otherwise you're sleeping on the couch

Sombra

Like Kiriko has her own puppet

Though she can make them of any character, even Jimbo

Both of y'all make Jimbo 1 and 2 argue with each other

moira has walked in on this at some point and made a 180 out of the door not to be seen for a week

Widowmaker

There was a time you made the horrible decision to pull the puppet next to her while she was sniping

Nearly lost Jimbo and your hand

Amelie doesn't want to admit it, but it cracks her up. It's rare to see Moira and Reaper so unsettled by the puppet it warms her cold heart and she stifles her laughter

Though she gave up trying to figure out where you pull Jimbo from in the first place

Doomfist

He breaks every time you manage to pull jimbo out

It's his weakness, and seeing Jimbo cuss out other members of the teams and managing to sass them he can't help but bark out with laughter

He'll make a lot of talk to the fist jokes to Jimbo and Jimbo throws them right back

He's so tempted to make a puppet fist just to mess around with you and your puppet

A/N: Very random request, but was interesting to write

Have a request? Put it in the Request box and don't forget to check the rules!

#doomfist #ow sombra #overwatch x reader #overwatch2 #overwatch #overwatch imagine #widowmaker x reader #widowmaker #kiriko x reader #kiriko #tracer #lena oxton

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ericsonclan · 1 year

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okay i don't know if you got asked this before, but what are the Ecrison kids starter Pokemon choices across the Pokemon games from the ones that started them all Red, Blue, (Green), or Yellow to the newest ones Violet and Scarlet. The hardest choice to make when you play any Pokemon game is to choose your starter Pokemon. Mine I bounce between fire types and water types. My first game was Pokemon Silver, and I choose Cyndaquil.

Always love a Pokemon ask! We decided to split this ask into different posts in sets of three just so that it doesn't become a crazy long post. So we'll start off with Clementine, Louis, and Violet and then post about the others throughout this week.

Clementine

Gen 1: Charmander (It's basically a badass baby dragon. How could she not pick it?)

Gen 2: Totodile (She thought it was the coolest looking of the three)

Gen 3: More drawn to Treecko initially but knows about Torchic’s evolution and goes with that little guy

Gen 4: Piplup (Thought that it was cute and always thought it had a bit of a sass to it)

Gen 5: Tepig (Fire pig, enough said)

Gen 6: Froakie (Knew of the evolutions but also loved the little frog guy initially)

Gen 7: Rowlet (Just drawn to it and stuck with that feeling)

Gen 8: Sobble (Thought it was a sweet, funky-looking guy)

Gen 9: Sprigatito (It's a cute baby cat. It won her heart)

Louis

Gen 1: Squirtle (It's a turtle so it was the only choice for him)

Gen 2: Chikorita (Drawn in by how cute and friendly it looks)

Gen 3: Mudkip (Loved its goofy smile. It's just a little guy)

Gen 4: Turtwig (For obvious reasons he had to choose it)

Gen 5: Oshawott (Another starter pokemon's cuteness won him over again)

Gen 6: Chespin (Again Louis went with the looks and vibes he got and he liked Chespin's vibes)

Gen 7: Popplio (He realized he mainly choose water and grass starters and this held that pattern)

Gen 8: Sobble (Liked its expression and wanted to protect it)

Gen 9: Fuecoco (The rare and sole fire starter. He got attached to it right away)

Violet

Gen 1: Bulbasaur (Thought it looked cool and also thought it would eventually get poison and she thought poisoning enemies would be badass)

Gen 2: Cyndaquil (Thought it looked badass and again thought of the status ailments and how it could burn her enemies)

Gen 3: Treecko (Liked its vibes and related to it)

Gen 4: Piplup (Saw the penguin pokemon and got attached)

Gen 5: Oshawott (Thought it was cute and decided she wanted it to be her starter)

Gen 6: Fennekin (Thought a fire fox was cool plus it was cute)

Gen 7: Litten (Fire kitten, enough said)

Gen 8: Scorbunny (Cute, fire starter, and just a little guy. It checked off all the boxes for a good starter in her eyes)

Gen 9: Sprigatito (Cat pokemon, enough said)

#twdg #twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg violet #twdg pokemon starters #asks #stay tuned for more

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bonnielunkas · 1 year

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may i present the main star of the rockstar parlor ; baby!!

`` baby is the leader of the parlor rockers and is also knows at the " parlor princess. " she is friendly and cheerful, though hides quiet a bit of sass and snark behind that grin of hers. while she can bicker with the other members of the band, music man especially, she still loves them all. `` - baby's blurb on the rockstar parlor website

( actual info about baby is below the cut )

so, following the fire in pizza sim, elizabeth's soul is detached from scrap baby, leaving scrap baby by herself. she doesn't mind though, as she constantly fought elizabeth for control of her own body. and while baby usually won, it was tiring to say the least. with lizzie gone though, baby was virtually free to do whatever she pleased. one problem; she was far too damaged to actually move. she could only speak, and even then that was shoddy at best. so, once micheal and eggs come back to check on the rubble to make sure that william is gone and the remaining souls are put to rest, they find baby. micheal decides to fix her up himself, really not caring about the fact she's part of the reason why he's currently a walking corpse, and makes sure to remove all the child murder stuff since that's not gonna fly. and then once micheal tells her him and eggs' plan to rebuild the location and re-open, he offers her the spot of mascot, which she happily accepts

other stuff :]

baby's bandmates are funtime chica, music man, and lefty! their owners are all ambiguous so it's not like micheal and eggs are gonna get in that much legal trouble, right?? baby's favorite bandmate is chica btw they're basically besties

she can make icecream!! three flavors too; vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry :]

baby designed her outfit all by herself!! thankfully, micheal also knows how to sew. in her words, she's " the princess of the roller rink! " ( she still has the kickass skates btw )

she still struggles a lot with her own identity and her past, and is pretty worried about hurting another child. she's aware all her dangerous bits are gone, but it's still something in the back of her mind.

#fnaf: rockstar parlor #rockstar parlor #fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf baby

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

stranger danger

w/c: 1.7k

warnings: swearing and peter being a smartass

summary: you befriend a certain crawling creature while out on a late night walk

a/n: hello my loves! it’s been a minute since i’ve properly written anything so i’m pretty psyched to share this with y’all :,) this was a fun one and i hope you enjoy as always hehe

a cool breeze cascades over you as you saunter down the sidewalk. you push your earbuds deeper into your ears, walking with purpose towards your destination. the usual horns honking and sirens sounding are drowned out by the music that’s playing.

you’re the only occupant of this particular avenue, trekking through the night in solitude.

just how you like it.

you happily continue on your evening stroll until out of no where, a figure swoops off the fire escape up above. they land directly in front of you. you jump, a surprised squeal slipping past your lips.

the unexpected encounter leaves your heart racing.

your fear quickly turns to irritation, however. how could someone be so careless? they really should have watched where they were going, especially at this hour.

you remove your earbuds so you can give this dipshit a piece of your mind.

“yo, what the hell? what’s your problem?” you demand. the disturber of peace cocks their head to the side, and very animatedly so. “what’s yours?” they deadpan.

you’re hardly able to make out their face in the darkness, which is unsettling.

“um… i asked you first,” you challenge, arms crossing over your chest. “fair enough. you wanna bite?” the stranger wonders. rhetorically, because they answer their own question.

“it’s you.”

oh, the absolute audacity.

“i beg your pardon?” you seethe, much to their amusement. “yup,” they shrug their shoulders. “i’m just saying, my job would be way easier if you weren’t out wandering the streets so late.”

“it’s barely midnight,” you justify, then think better of it. “not that i have to explain myself to you.”

your eyes narrow at the mysterious specimen before you. they let out a low chuckle.

“what does this job of yours entail, anyway?” you have to inquire.

the stranger steps toward you, finally withdrawing from the shadows. you gasp upon the reveal of their identity.

“spider-man, at your service,” he introduces himself, saluting you with his gloved fingers. “well… friendly neighborhood spider-man, is my official title.”

you’ve been sassing freaking spider-man?

“you shouldn’t be out here all alone, you know,” spider-man chastises you. he casually leans against the ladder of the fire escape. “says who?” you scoff back.

since he’s giving you attitude, you’ll continue to do the same.

spider-man looks you up and down. you can tell because of the way the eyes of his mask shift.

“says me,” he clarifies. “a pretty young lady such as yourself is, like, bait for bad guys.”

ignoring the borderline misogynistic part where he referred to you as bait, that sounds an awful lot like flirting.

interesting.

“suppose you were doing your so-called job instead of bugging me…” a smirk spreads across your features. “i wouldn’t have to worry about said bad guys, now would i?”

spider-man claps a hand over his heart in feigned offense.

“touché,” he compliments, the smug smile evident in his voice. “but, bugging isn’t the word i’d use. i’m an arachnid.”

not only is he a dipshit, but he’s also a sarcastic shit.

“whatever. clear the area, arachnid-boy,” you huff, swatting spider-man’s arm so he’ll move aside. alas, he stays put. “nah. i’m good right here,” he decides.

he’s blocking you from your route, body still rested against the fire escape.

“for real? don’t you have places to be?” you complain. spider-man hums thoughtfully. “nope. besides you, it’s been a pretty slow night. i’m gonna wrap up in…”

he glances down at his wrist, where one of his webshooters resides rather than the imaginary watch he’s checking.

“uh, now. i’m gonna wrap up now,” he informs you. “a perk of being your own boss is that you get to choose your own hours.”

that’s his first joke that earns a laugh from you. you shake your head at him, spider-man grinning under his mask.

you might be warming up to the guy.

might be.

“since you’re free, then,” you preface. “and, so adamant on me needing an escort home… how about it?”

spider-man likes what you’re suggesting.

“that’s where you’re headed, huh?” he implores, gesturing to the path ahead of you. you nod. “it’d be my honor to take you. we could both use the company,” spider-man concludes.

you embark once again on the journey to your apartment, this time with new york’s most infamous wall-climber following beside you.

he trades his usual transportation method of swinging for walking, wanting to chat with you a while longer.

“so, spider-man,” you prompt him. “how’d you come up with… spider-man?” the hero in question laughs softly. “crazy story, actually. i got my powers from a spider bite, and i’m a man.”

his explanation makes you giggle. spider-man beams, pink tinting his cheeks that you thankfully can’t see.

“a silly little spider bite gave you super strength and a sixth sense? that’s ridiculous,” you snort out. spider-man bumps his shoulder into yours. “it was radioactive, mind you.”

he’s far less cocky than he was when you initially met him, though he’s goofing around just as much. you’re into his humor sans the snark.

“tell me about you, though,” spider-man requests, inching closer to you. the two of you turn a corner. “personally, i’ve never been bitten by a radioactive spider… believe it or not,” you play coy. he breathes out another laugh.

“seriously. tell me something, anything,” he tries. “like… what’s your name, for starters?”

it hadn’t crossed your mind to share that, although you do owe it to him at this point. you owe him something for accompanying you the whole way home.

“it’s y/n,” you reply with a half smile. spider-man’s eyes widen as he processes this new information. “y/n,” he mumbles. “that has a nice ring to it… y/n.”

he instantly commits it to memory, which he’s normally terrible at.

“thanks. what’s yours?” you attempt to discover the name hidden behind his alias. “you already know it,” spider-man surprises you by saying. you clutch onto his arm. “wait, what? i do?”

“duh. first name spider, last name man,” he smoothly responds, not missing a beat. “keep up, y/n.”

you squeeze his bicep, a grin painting your lips.

“you’re kidding. i told you mine, tell me yours!” you almost whine. “i did,” spider-man sighs.

accepting your defeat, you release his arm and resume your shuffling down the pavement. he already misses your touch.

“ok, mr. man,” you concede. “could i get your initials, at the very least?”

there’s no harm in him revealing a couple letters to you, in your opinion.

“you sure can. SM,” spider-man cleverly retorts.

it seems he’s back to being cheeky. or, he simply isn’t comfortable disclosing that to you.

you forgot you two are new acquaintances because it feels like you’ve known each other forever.

“fine, fine. i get it,” you assure him. “it’s top secret, confidential and whatnot. i won’t press anymore.”

the pair of you then drift into silence. it leads to you scraping your shoes against the sidewalk to fill it, and spider-man nervously fiddling with his fingers.

he’s reconsidering.

“uh… PP,” he speaks up after a few minutes. you’re not sure you heard him correctly. “hm?” you murmur, spider-man letting out a rather shaky breath. “my initials. they’re PP,” he repeats, with more confidence.

it’s quickly shot when you bust out laughing.

“your name is pee pee? like, piss? urine?” you literally cackle, elbowing spider-man’s side as you double over. “no, that’s… no way. you gotta be fucking with me, dude.”

spider-man frowns.

“i’m not,” he quietly states. “and, technically, with my middle name… it’s PBP.”

gazing up at him, you find that spider-man isn’t messing around for a change. his shoulders slump shyly, head hanging.

damn.

you feel kind of bad for making fun of him.

he trusted you with part of his true identity, and now he’s probably regretting it.

“PBP is cool,” you correct yourself with a nudge at his arm. “yours has a nice ring to it, too.” spider-man’s tense body relaxes. “thanks, y/n,” he rasps, you flashing him a smile. “you’re welcome, PBP.”

you have the sudden urge to reach over and grab his hand, which is dangling between the two of you. as if he’s aware of this, spider-man holds out an open palm for you.

right, his sixth sense. his spider sense.

wordlessly, you slip your fingers through his suit clad ones. you’re honestly pretty geeked to be hand in hand with a real life superhero. spider-man chuckles, letting your intertwined hands fall back to your sides.

“you never told me what you were doing out here,” he mentions as you near your apartment.

you chew on your bottom lip, slowing down your pace. you’re not ready to say goodbye just yet.

“going for a walk. i do it most nights, whenever i need to clear my head,” you reveal. “it’s just me and my carefully curated playlists. it’s very… refreshing.”

“sounds refreshing,” spider-man agrees, locking your fingers tighter together. “maybe you could use a buddy, though.”

did PBP just invite himself to join you again?

you’re down, but you can’t let him win so easily.

“give me one reason why,” you muse.

spider-man didn’t realize you’d be putting him on the spot.

“i… you…” he stammers, snapping when he thinks of it. “you gotta have someone there to look out for you, right? that would be me.”

“aw, you’d protect me? from the bad guys?” you coo. “it is my job,” spider-man reminds you.

you sway your hands back and forth, peeking up at him.

“i can protect myself. because of your kind, i’ve had no choice but to learn how to,” you click your tongue, spider-man blinking curiously. “my kind?” he echoes. you exhale, “men… derogatory.”

spider-man snickers at your response. you two come to a stop, outside of what he assumes is your building.

already?

“gimme another reason,” you command, turning to face him. spider-man mirrors your stance. “‘cuz, uh…”

he raises his free hand and wiggles his fingers, a signal for you to take it. you do so with the hint of a smile on your lips, spider-man bringing both your connected hands to his chest.

“i like you, y/n. i have a tingle you like me, too,” he admits. you furrow your eyebrows, smile growing wider. “a tingle? guess i can’t argue with that.”

you meet his big, cartoon-like eyes that desperately search for your own.

“i do like you, PBP. we should definitely do this again.”

as much as you cherish your solo walks, you’ve honestly enjoyed having him around. you could get used to it.

spider-man runs his thumbs along the back of either of your hands, so gently that the simple action gives you butterflies. he grins.

“i’ll pick you up, same time tomorrow.”

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #spiderman #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine

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howl-fantasies · 2 years

Text

Politeness

A/N - Words, when well used can be as dangerous as a weapon. Here is a request from a friend who wanted to see Alfred and Y/N roasting each other verbally with awful politeness. A bit of Victor x reader too. Hope you’ll like it. 🥰

Gotham city - Wayne's Mansion - 1PM

Truth be told, she had absolutely no idea about what she was doing here. “Would you like some tea, Ms Y/N”, asked the butler of the brat who contacted her, and offered her a fortune if she accepted to hack Wayne’s data base with one of his current employees, Lucius Fox.

She was quite intrigued by the heir’s call to be honest. And the fact that he stole her contact in Gordon’s phone amused her beyond limits. The future king of the city had some good old darkness inside of him after all, a pure Gotham’s product like them all, even Jimbo.

So she indulged him, agreeing to meet him at his manor later that day, and told Victor she was going to have some fun with some handsome rich kid. The sinister glance she earned and the sound of a gun security being lifted made her grin like the psycho woman she knew she was.

But it was too tempting. And the funny reaction had worth it, as well as the mini shooting contest they had before she managed to flee Carmine’s mansion. She was 100% sure to be scold by the old man this evening for the commotion she had created.

“Miss?” Asked again the butler. She snickered, seeing he was losing his patience. He didn’t want to see her here, at all. “Well aren’t you awfully polite my good Sir? Your cute tea offer isn’t as tempting as a good whiskey though, Irish, if you please.” She mocked while mimicking a ridiculous British accent. He scoffed a bit then gave her his more friendly crisped smile. “Someone has to be at least in this room. Concerning the whiskey, maybe it’s a bit too early for a young decent lady to play drunkard ”

Perfectly getting his insult, She faked a shocked face and even pushed the joke with putting her right hand on her heart. “Goodness, what a feisty butler you are Mister...Ah, please excuse me, I didn’t care enough to remember your lovely name. Mind if I call you Mister Tea from now on?” She provoked.

His jaws tensed a bit but he didn’t lose his polite smile. “You’re a bit young for it but maybe you should go to see a doctor in order to check for a possible degeneration. Again, Madam, my name is Alfred Pennyworth.” He sassed. She lifted a brow at his answer and felt a sudden urge to smash his face against the counter. “More plain than Mister Tea, that’s for sure. But quite fitting : old, boring and plain, the perfect British trinity.” She instead decided to answer on the same tone.

He blinked and grab a towel to start cleaning the dishes of his master. “Don’t you have a lovely sharp tongue Madam? You would have made me think of Mary Crowley, if I didn’t hear your foul mouth from outside, fifteen minutes ago.” He fired. She laughed so hard she had to grab the counter to not fall from her seat.

“You sure have some nerves Mr Carson. Don’t you have some valet to terrorized around Downtown instead of playing mind games with me here? By the way, where are your master and Mister Fox?” She sneered.

“Well at least you know your classics, I can see. I am the only one working here, and master Bruce will come in a minute with Mister Fox. Just give them a moment please.” He said flatly. She sighed a bit.

“So, I’ve heard from my master that you’re... qualified in technology and might help us to crack a difficult security system.” He continues. “I’m so glad to see that your ears are still working despite your old age, indeed I am.” She answered with a grin when he frowned at the mention of his age. But he ignored it and asked again: “Is that what you are doing for a living? Hacking companies and selling their datas?”

She snorted loud. Bruce Wayne should have investigated a bit more before calling her. Impatience was dangerous sometimes. Fortunately for him, she wasn’t in a lethal mood right now. She was enjoying herself too much, politely insulting the Butler and vice versa.

“Used to, when I was not much older than your young master. But technology was just at its debuts so I had to develop other skills too for a decent living. But don’t worry, I’m still a queen with a keyboard under my fingers.” She answered.

Alfred stayed silent after her words. He seemed to think a solid minute, eying her regularly then sighed. “You remind me of a young girl my master is friend with. Selina Kyle. You’re much more polite then her, thought, even if it’s just a facade. Do you happen to know her?” He asked.

Y/N blinked once and searched in her memories for a second. “Only heard of her here and there, never had the chance to meet her in person.” She simply said.

Alfred didn’t had the time to speak again, a high-pitched “Oh no. God no! Run, run, run!” resonated from the entry of the kitchen. Y/N turned her head and saw a young pre-teen girl being kept in place by a young boy, and behind them a man in a suit and a reserved demeanor.

She mockingly waved her hand, singing a “Hi”, before turning again to face a confused Alfred. “Looks like she heard of me too”, she laughed while pointing Selina with her index.

“Look, Selina, please...”, tried Bruce, but he was cut by her friend. “No, you look! That woman is dangerous. Not like slightly or moderately dangerous, but utterly dangerous.”, She rushed. “How impolite of you, Selina, She’s also here so you should talk to her directly you know”, said Y/N in a low tone, piercing her with her gaze, her head resting lazily in her right hand.

“I know what you are doing for Falcone and with who!”, said immediately the girl, trying her best to sound as confident as usual. “Now you’re the one being dangerous my sweet.” Y/N cut her, without losing her calm. Her message was pretty clear, and the girl got it perfectly since she shut her mouth and gulped.

“What is she talking about?” Asked Bruce eying the two suspiciously. Y/N saw Alfred moving to grab a knife but was quicker, smashing her palm flat against the blade. “Now, now, we were having so much fun a minute ago, Mister Tea. Don’t spoil our fun with reckless actions.” She then lifted her hand and turned to look at Wayne. “You’re a cute kid, boy. But you don’t pay attention enough to details before doing something. That’s why you are in this situation right now.”

Though, the woman didn’t seem to want to attack him, just watching everyone like an hawk perched on a branch. “Ok, let’s address the elephant miss Kyle so kindly brought in the room. Yes, I am working for Carmine Falcone. Most of the time, but not today. I am here because you”, she pointed at Bruce, “had more guts then many men in the city and called me to help you. Even if you didn’t knew about my identity at this moment, you caught my attention.” She said.

He nodded warily and she felt Alfred still watching her as intensely as she did a minute ago. “I accepted to help you, young Mister Wayne. And I am many things but someone who doesn’t keep her promises. So now the only question that matters is do you still want my help, or not?”

The heir looked inside of her eyes a good solid minute before taking a step in her direction, ignoring Selina calling his name. Then he took another, and another until he was just in front of her and offered her his hand to shake. “If you are certain you are able to crack the system, extract the datas and give them to me without being caught, then I would appreciate your help very much.” He said.

“Master Bruce!” Interjected Alfred, who joined his side and grab his shoulders to put some distance between him and Y/N. But before he could, the woman took the boy’s hand and pulled him to her with so much force he crashed again her plexus. “Let him go this instant!” Demanded the butler, grabbing the knife on the counter.

“Relax, Mister Carson”, she deadpanned, then leaned until her mouth was just next to Bruce ear. “Again, you’re being too impatient, little boy. Think before acting.” She leaned back and saw his deep frown, he didn’t understand what she meant.

“Miss Y/N, we need to be sure that the informations you’ll collect for us will stay inside of this house and never go anywhere else or reach any other ears.” Said for the first time since he entered in the room Lucius, who was watching her carefully.

A light smile flourished on the corner of her mouth and she put her gaze on the boy who seemed to finally got it. “Why did you point it out?” He asked incredulously. Alfred nodded at his question, not understanding himself. Y/N shrugged one of her shoulder.

“Eh, looks like you’ve got a strong charm here Mister Wayne and bewitched me, or maybe it was your lovely butler. You know I like my men like I like my tea, hot and British”, She mocked, earning a big scoff from Alfred.

“Who are you kidding! Your man his a freaking homicidal maniac!” Screamed Selina from the door, making Bruce take an involuntary step back and Alfred lifting his knife. She sighed and leaned on the side to throw her a “really?!” glance. “Girl, be cute and hush until you learn how to stand for yourself and not hissing like an angry cat, 10 meters away from your mark.” Y/N said.

“What is she talking about?” Demanded to know Alfred. Again, the woman shrugged one shoulder. “Nothing you have to worry about. For now”, she grinned. She didn’t let them lose anymore time and put one of her hand in the air in direction of the heir. “Now sweetheart, would you please be a dear and show me where I can start to work?” She mocked a bit.

It took her five good hours and the help of Lucius to finally manage to crack the system and export all Wayne’s datas. “Do you even know what you are looking for my sweet boy?” She asked while unplugging Lucius’ hard drive.

“I’m not sure, irregularities, financial and corporate malpractices...” He answered. She blinked and nodded, lifting from her chair and stretching like a cat. Speaking of one, Selina refused to approach her all along, pouting in a corner.

“Well, young Wayne, I think I’ve done my part here, so out of respect for your time, I’ll take my leave.” She said with a small grin. Bruce nodded softly. “Thank you for your help, Ms Y/N. It was very kind of you.” He said.

She laughed hard at his words. “Kid, you gave me a fortune for that, I did what you’ve paid me for. There is no place for kindness in this city or in business in general. Keep it for your butler or, in a certain measure, for your kitty cat, here”, she pointed. She then turned on her heels to walk to the door, but had to stop when Bruce spoke again. “Say what you want, it was kindness. And I thank you for that.”

She didn’t turn nor made a move to acknowledge his words and get out of the room, letting Alfred guide her to the main doors. She had to raise a brow when he extended his hand between them.

“You are more similar to Mary Crowley than I thought, Ms Y/N... I don’t really know if I appreciate you or not but my young master was right. What you did today was kind. You could have sold the information but you warned him, and for that I humbly want to thank you.” Said the man.

The woman watched his hand a long second before taking it and shaking it. “Don’t act so stiff and sound so dramatic Mister Carson. Know that I, for certain, liked our little chit chat very much, you’re a funny one. Try to stay alive and in shape with your small child-adult master, you two sure are quite the interesting duo.” She said, earning a little scoff.

“Where were you?” Asked a voice from behind her when she entered her room, after a good scolding from Falcone for the shooting between Victor and her in the morning. “Didn’t you stalk me dearest?” She asked mockingly. “Well Don Falcone didn’t want to risk me putting a bullet in your thigh, so he ordered me to let you be for the day.” He said.

She hummed pensively while starting to undress under his heavy gaze. “I told you I was going to a fancy mansion to see a rich heir.” She finally answered, while clicking her tongue when her necklace wouldn’t opened.

Two gloved hands replaced hers but she quickly sized them, before he could do anything. “Will you try to choke me to death like this viper of Liza?” She asked mockingly but with a tint of seriousness in her eyes.

Victor lifted one of his brows and stared at her. “Would prefer to do it with bare hands. To feel your pulse against my palms and your life quitting your body slowly.” He said flatly, freeing his hands and helping her to take the jewel off. “Such a poet, dearest, you definitely know how to make me feel weak in the knees”, she sassed.

Zsasz closed the tiny distance between them, snaking both of his arms around her waist, pressing her against his front and whispered against her ear: “Last time I ask gently, sweetness.” As on cue, she felt a cold blade against her bare skin, which makes her shivered. “Wayne’s manor.” She said, also snaking her arms but around his neck and pressing him even harder against her.

“Oh.” He said. “What for?” The blade wasn’t as much threatening, but she felt it graze her skin softly. “Little hacking job, well paid, should be able to buy tons of fancy suits, jackets, accessories and guns to my lover, he has quite a pronounced taste for luxury, maybe I spoil him too much” She mocked, also grazing her sharp nails against his neck.

She saw his infamous boyish grin before he brutally lifts her, and throw her on the bed, being on her in a second. “And what did you find?” He questioned. She trapped his hips between her thighs and crossed her ankles behind his back. “Nothing interesting for the family.” She simply said without mentioning the details, but it was the truth thought. “The heir and butler were quite endearing. Cute boy, funny and cute old man”, she provoked and had to leaned her head a bit on the right to dodge Victor’s blade which would have cut her left cheek a bit. She couldn’t help herself and chuckled.

He didn’t move it though. In fact he was very still, as a warning sign for her: if what you’re saying next doesn’t please me, you may bleed. She put a hand on his right cheek then slide it behind his neck to guide him against her lips. “Don’t be jealous dearest, I’ll always fall for the bad guy”, She whispered before kissing him hungrily.

Hope you liked it! 🥰

#gotham imagine #gotham x reader #gotham #gotham fox #victor zsasz #victor zsasz imagine #victor zsasz x reader #gotham fandom #gotham fic #gotham fanfiction #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #alfred pennyworth

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bokettochild · 3 years

Text

A Hero Protects His Own - Part 1

Ao3

AU is by @ryssbelle I just write for it!!!! Go check them and their awesome AU out!!!!

..........................................................................................................................

Loud.

It’s loud and the camp is overwhelmingly tense as Legend screams harsh words in a language Twilight doesn’t understand. The others sit in silence, either burying their heads in their hands or trying their hardest to ignore it while Sky stares cold and impassive at the vet.

He shrinks back into his hood.

He’s fought the worst of the worst; monsters, evils, shadows and nightmares from realms beyond what the others will ever know, but somehow hearing his brothers screaming at each other like this is what it takes to make him shiver and shrink back.

Or maybe it’s the steel in Sky’s eyes.

He’s tried to separate them, tried to stop Legend antagonizing the Chosen Hero, and for a while he even thought it worked! Sky and Legend had bonded some after what the three of them refer to as “the bunny incident” Legend with a fierce blush and Sky and himself with grins and teasing. The vet would tease them, stand at their side and back them up, and they would do the same for him. That’s just the power of secrets, sharing them makes you closer to other people.

But then they’d been dropped in Legend’s world. They’d come to the veteran’s Hyrule and spent a day at his house and gone out to the forest with Ravio to investigate something strange that the merchant had seen. When they'd come to the cozy cottage, Sky had been teasing Legend and receiving playful jabs in return, but the next morning when everyone woke up there was stone cold silence between the two, Ravio overcome with nervous energy that, to their collective shock, had earned him some rather sharp words from the Skyloftian when the merchant had gotten them lost in the woods.

From there it got worse.

Legend and Sky are almost always at each other's throats now, icy blue and raging indigo burning into each other as Time has struggled to keep them separate, neither willing to explain their spat and Ravio to overcome to even attempt it.

The bunny merchant clings to Warriors even now, their scarves wrapped over the both of them and tying them together as Warriors paints the merchant’s nails, speaking softly and recounting adventures the two had apparently shared in an attempt to distract him from the shouting that fills the camp and the heated stares being shot between two heroes.

Sky’s hand grips the hilt of the Master Sword where it lies in his lap and Legend’s fist at his sides while he stands over the older hero, face twisted up in an ugly expression as he spews words Twilight knows he doesn’t want to understand.

“Make it stop.” Four whimpers, head buried in his side as the smithy’s shoulders tense further with each word. “It hurts.”

“Guys-” He tries, he really does, to be firm, but when there's so much anger already in the air, he knows that yelling will only do so much good, and when Sky’s sharp eyes meet his, usually so gentle and dreamy but now flashing with lightning and shadowed in thunderclouds, it’s all he can do to keep his voice low enough to not worsen things for Four.

“You’re hurting Four.” Time scolds.

Legend’s mouth snaps shut, Sky’s hands twitching as the two both look over the miserable bundle against his side.

“Fine.” Legend snaps, crossing his arms and looking away.

“Apologies.” Sky nods.

It’s easy to believe Sky will be a king one day when he acts like that. There’s no doubt that their usually sleepy friend can rule and command when he sits poker straight, actions clipped as his words and tone deep enough to rival times when he speaks. Gone are the gentle words and reassuring smiles, instead replaced with regal nods and flashing silver eyes. The war cape that usually warms shivering heroes on cold nights is a cape, and the halo cast over the Skyloftian’s honey-hair is a crown in the firelight.

Twilight has to shift in his place.

Thank Ordonia the two both have a soft spot for the smithy, otherwise they’d be here all night! And, while he loves the wolf that nestles inside of his heart, he also hates how the wolf’s senses affect his own. Legend’s shrieks might be annoying to the others, but to himself and Four, they’re agonizing.

Then again, he has to muffle a strained chuckle as Legend stomps past on his way to his bedroll, which is as far as possible from Sky’s without Time raising his brows, rabbits do scream rather loudly, don’t they.

“Are they done?” Four’s eyes actually have tears in them when he looks up, face flushed and miserable as he peeks up out from under the tail end of the wolf pelt.

“Yeah.” He has to keep his voice low as he answers, Four’s headaches are well known to be absolutely awful, and he can’t help but gently pet the smithy’s hair in an attempt to comfort him.

Baby.

Twilight has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Four’s nearly an adult.

Baby. The wolf in his soul rumbles, and Twilight has to mentally restrain himself from pulling the little smithy into his arms and absolutely suffocating him with his fluffy pelt and arms as he holds him as tight as possible. He thinks Four once explained why they want to squeeze babies and small things so much, but he can’t be bothered to dig through all of the smithy’s rants about Hylian behavior in order to remember it.

It was something related to eating though, and the thought makes him wrinkle his nose.

“Good.” Four sighs, flopping fully against him and tugging the pelt over his eyes. “They do that again and I’m gonna slap them both. Jerks.”

A laugh rumbles through his chest as the wolf growls in approval.

Fierce baby. The Wolf laughs.

He’s close to our age. Twilight reminds himself. He jist looks small and young.

Never mind that the smithy has his childish moments, eyes glimmering red and warm as he laughs along with Wind as the two watch some prank or another play out. It’s always hard to tell if Four is just laughing at their misfortune or if he’s the reason for it and is reveling in his genius, because when questioned the smithy always looks so childishly innocent or entirely unimpressed. It’s a difficult thing to pin the blame on the smithy, and they’ve all quite given up. Except Sky.

Sky, who can read Four like a book and is currently shooting worried glances in the smithy’s direction, all fire and rage gone from crystal eyes when the Skyloftian catches sight of the smithy curled up beside him, only his legs and stockinged feet visible beneath the pelt. “Is he okay?”

Twilight nods. “Exhausted, fightin’ a bad headache, but he says it ain’t quite a migraine.”

The other hero nods with a wince. “You got him then?”

Oh definitely. This is his little brother! Of course, he can take care of him! “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

He’s feeling guilty.

They are close, he prob’bly just wants to help.

“You good, Sky?”

Crystal blue meets his slowly, a pained smile on his brother’s face as Sky settles down on his other side, reaching over quickly to gently pat Four’s knee before answering. “Yeah. Legend just-” Sky answers, running a hand through his hair with a huff of his puffed-out cheeks. “Vet’s a Hylia Blessed piece of work somedays!”

Laughter spills from him this time, and he can’t stop it even when Four pokes his side irritably. “That has got to be the nicest way I’ve e’er heard someone call another person an ass! Did you just say ‘Hylia blessed’?”

Sky rolls his eyes. “I love Legend same as any of you guys, he’s just...” Another heavy puff of breath, one that he didn’t know Sky could even manage with his asthma, billows out, ruffling the Skyloftian’s bangs as he motions to where Legend is sat with his back against Warriors, Twilight would almost dare to say that the vet is pouting as War reaches over to gently ruffle the vet’s hair fondly while Ravio chirps something nervous and encouraging at him.

“He can a bit difficult.” He finishes, but Sky shakes his head fiercely.

“That’s not it! I deal with difficult people all the time! My best friend was the biggest ass I knew before he stopped trying to one up me and started to actually help. I can handle a bit of sass and snark, I mean, look at us!” Sky exclaims, motioning to the camp and everyone in it.

“Keep it down!” Four hisses. “Headache!”

“Sorry.” He choruses with Sky as the smithy glares up at the both of them before retreating back underneath the protective shade of his wolf pelt.

“It’s not the grouchiness, or the snark.” Sky explains softly, blue eyes pained as they glance at Legend. “We’re just. We have very different opinions about some things.” He’s about to say something when Sky cuts him off, eyes glistening softly in the fire as he stares across at the pouting vet. “I get that he doesn’t care for the goddesses. I’m not happy with it, but I can respect his opinions; they’re valid as much as mine are, and he has his reasons to feel the way he does. But some things-” The Skyloftian shakes his head fiercely, eyes going stony again. “Some things aren’t open for discussion like faith and beliefs. Hard, cold facts can’t be denied, no matter how much Legend would like to.”

There’s a bite in Sky’s voice again, and it makes him flinch back. Beneath his pelt, Four’s fingers clench his tunic, the smithy stiff as a board again. He sneaks an arm around the younger hero, squeezing gently in reassurance as he follows Sky’s gaze to the trio opposite them, where Legend is glaring at a laughing Warriors while Ravio giggles softly along, the three melting back into their seamlessly antagonistically friendly behavior around each other.

“Legend’s smart. But he’s also blind.” Sky bites out bitterly. “And it’s just gonna get him hurt.”

He’s about to ask what Sky means, but at that very moment Wild jumps up from sitting beside Time, ears pricked and eyes wide as a hoarse-shout rings from his cub’s throat. “Monster attack!”

Monsters.

The growl rumbles in his chest as he pulls himself to his feet, Four following with a groan and Sky already sprinting across the camp with the Master Sword drawn and in hand.

The monsters are on them before most of them even have a chance to draw their blades.

Mindless beasts swirl about, blocking his vision of the others as he dances through them, fending off any headed towards the suffering smithy while simultaneously trying to carve a path for himself and Four to where the others are.

“Eyes out for the black one!” Warriors voice rises over the din of blades crashing and monsters squealing, all of the playfulness of the moment before replaced with the practiced calm and clipped tones of a soldier.

“Aye Captain!” Wind shouts back, followed by Wild and Time, the only one’s accustomed to a soldier’s commands, as they thrust themselves into the battle.

The monsters swarm thicker and thicker, but in every spare second, he keeps his eyes open, searching the crowd for the black lizalfoes that’s been the source of so much of their trouble lately. Nothing can be seen save monster after monster of the normal sort, their blood streaking red across the dirt, thin and weak as bodies fall with more ease than any of their previous battles.

“These ‘blins are red blooded!” He calls out. “Keep your guards up! They strong one’s are prob’bly holdin’ back!”

The Ordon Sword sings through the air, but despite his own warning, the monsters are already starting the thin. More stream in from the forest, but they runabout wild like any old ‘blins and lizards, none of the intelligence or strength of their corrupted cousins making an appearance so often recently. The same can be said of the black lizalfoes; no one can spot it, there’s no flash of black in the crowd save for his own pelt as he spins and stabs, dancing easily along to Warriors’ side.

“Any sign?” The captain pants out, parrying an enemy blade and thrusting forwards to skewer the moblin before him.

“None.” He heaves back, raising his shield against his own opponent and pushing back against the spear that embedded it inside. “Have you seen Four? I lost him in the mob?”

The words are hardly out of his mouth before a scream, all too harsh and broken sounded across the field. “Sky!”

Midnight meets royal blue as soldier and rancher lock eyes for all of a moment before swinging out with all their might at their enemies, razing them low and clearing their vision long enough to stare over the field.

Four is clutching at his sword arm, eyes wide and staring as they looked to where Sky has been cast onto the ground a few paces away, thrown by the force of a blow that no doubt had been headed for the smithy himself. No ordinary monster could land a blow on Sky unless he was rushing to someone else’s rescue, and the guilt already filtering into the smithy’s eyes was all that is needed to confirm the thought.

The Master Sword lies on the forest floor, to far from Sky for the knight to grasp it as he pulls himself to his knees, enemies already baring down on him from all directions.

“Sky!” Twin voices shout.

Flying-Heart!!!! The Wolf screams inside of him, pushing his feet forwards to charge to Sky’s side.

Red flashes before him, swirling fabric, the color of aged blood and wine, a hood like a poe’s drawn up over a being’s head, a single blackened hand reaching out from beneath, red swirling over clawed fingers as Sky’s breath comes heaving from his lungs, side bleeding from the blow that had downed him.

A voice, neither high nor low but pitched in such a way that none could hear quite what was being said, murmurs something as the power on the blackened hand pulses.

Monsters rage around the hero and poe-like being, but none step closer to Sky, although their eyes trail to him eagerly every so often when Heroes, desperate to save their brother, aren’t hacking through their numbers.

A moblin rises before Twilight, blocking his vision for precious seconds before a roar built in his chest and his sword cleft the being in two. The second was enough though. Sky’s scream sounds over the field, harsh and grating and agonizing! The wolf throbs inside of him, tearing at the walls of his mind as he attempted to press through the creatures keeping him from his brother.

“Get back you-” Legend’s words are cut off sharply by Time’s scream of rage as the biggoron sword swings and fells three monsters at once. The Master Sword gleams in Legend’s hands as he launches himself at the being, teeth set and eyes flashing as he swings down, making the red-cape dart back as the pink-haired hero came to a halt between hero and monster, Sky’s weakening breath ringing over the field.

The vet’s eyes flash to meet his for only a moment. “Kick ass! We need to end this!”

A firm nod, the wolf is already raging inside him and he gave it full control as his blade and shield fend off and fell enemy after enemy, their screams and blood running over him like the air itself, so little he cares for them. His only job now is to beat back the monsters, give Legend space to work, keep Sky safe.

Beat the monsters.

Give Legend space to wreak havoc.

Protect Sky.

Beat the monsters.

Give Legend space to wreak havoc.

Protect Sky.

Beat the monsters.

Give Legend space to wreak havoc.

Protect Sky.

Like a dirge of war, the wolf’s thoughts swirl with his own, red clouding his vision as the Ordon Sword severs limbs and head and cleft bodies in two. Feet dance the war stomps of bloodlust as eyes flash with the golden of the wolf.

“Portal!” Wild screams over the din of the monsters falling. “Hylia’s!” His pup sounds strained, rage and terror mixing in a cocktail of fury as arrows plunge into the enemy and weapons fly loose across the Champion’s personal battle space, an area where even the monsters drew back in fear while the rest of the heroes give the youngster ample space to cause chaos.

Sure enough, the portal’s golden power is sweeping across the field, the faint brush of feathers over their cheeks and shoulders and the whisper of warmth and honey as the goddess’s strength flows over the field.

“Legend, watch out!” Hyrule’s cry cuts through, and Twilight only has enough time to see the blackened hand swing forwards and catch hold of Legend’s tunic before the golden glow of the shift swept it all away.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #devine beast sky #devine twili beast sky #raven of sky #lu sky #lu legend #lu twilight #lu four #idiot writes angst #danggit! I forgot to tag Ravio on ao3!!!!#uh... yeah #lu ravio #lu time #lu hyrule #lu warriors #lu wind #lu wild #ryssbelle my beloved

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dragongirl642 · 3 years

Note

I really love your writing and noticed your asks are open (i think). And, I checked your masterlist and didn't see RE8 listed as a universe you write for, so you can ignore this if you want. But, could I request Heisenberg, Donna, and Lady Dimitrescu reacting to a male dragon-shifter reader who has decided to make the character's residence their hoard, and as such, going to extreme lengths to protect them and the residence?

OOOHHH 😮😳 How did you know dragons (and by extent dragon shifters) are my favourite things in the whole wide world!!!!!

As a treat, you get all four of the Lords' reactions. 😎

For extra drama, the dragon-shifter (you) basically crash land nearby (after a loooooonnnngggg flight) and decide to take up residence in the nearest abode while you rest, and end up getting comfortable and liking the area so decide to stay.

You have a full human form, fully dragon form, and an in-between form.

Also, you have like saintly levels of patience.

Heisenberg

It takes him a minute of staring to figure out that the giant dragon in the factory, is not a hallucination, induced by either the drinking he was doing the night prior, or a trick of Mother Miranda's trying to destabilize him mentally.

However this quickly turns into a lot of yelling "what the F are you doing in my factory!" and "What the F are you!" while chucking metal at you.

You melt the more dangerous pieces and yell at him to "Cease this nonsense! You can't hurt me like this."

Heisenberg.exe has stopped working.

He's partially re-evaluating his life like...did I just get sassed by a giant lizard.

You take the initiative to tell the small angry man telekinetically chucking metal around to chill. "Listen, I'm just going to rest here a few days then leave. You leave me alone, and I won't Incinerate you."

He quickly weighs up how much he doesn't want you here vs how much it will piss Mother Miranda off if he uses the giant dragon crash landing in his factory as an excuse to do absolutely nothing for her.

He's a bit annoyed about you taking up all the room by the forges so he can't make new soldats but...

Hate for Miranda wins!

He actually uses this as an excuse in his next report and Mother Miranda comes to 'get rid of the problem herself since Heisenberg cannot'...you almost incinerated her and she checked out. (He's putting that down as one of the best days of his life).

Since he now has nothing better to do he either leans on a nearby balcony or stands on a floating gear and starts trying to get your attention.

Will ask you everything from your name and where you came from to your favourite colour and if you have a specific favourite scale on your body.

You're distrustful and annoyed at first but soon warm up to this obviously lonely man.

You get so comfortable you decide you just might never leave.

The first time you feel comfortable enough to shift back to your human form Heisenberg is like (o_o) hot person! Two for one deal, annoying Mother Miranda plus Eye Candy!!!!

Makes a joke about having you turn into your dragon form again so he can keep making excuses to Mother Miranda. Which gets you curious and you ask about her, and he explains about the cadou, the experiments, and what she did to him.

He will make a bunk for you, so he can get back to work and you can stay near the heat of the forges, (absorbing the energy from the flames speeds up recovery and/or keeps you charged at 100% so you're always ready to burn a b1tch...specifically Miranda).

You both talk about whatever while he works. Lots of late night chats. One time he accidentally doused the forges and you just blew into the chamber and they re-lit immediately. (Mechanical Heart Eyes)

Since you start considering the entire factory to be your hoard, sometimes you claim a random object as your specific favourite piece for the day, maybe one of his tools or a specific piece of scrap. If he needs to use it, you won't let him and a small argument can be had. A solution is soon found though, you can't have a conflict of interest if your favourite item is him.

When you protect him, he's super flattered and hypes you up.

Cue him on the sides cheering you on.

If you two have started dating he will definitely yell "that's my boyfriend!" and gush about you to whoever happens to be standing next to him. (Bonus points if it's any of the other Lords. Especially Miranda, she is dying!)

Definitely makes a sign saying 'Beware of Dragon' to put on the fence.

Sometimes you jump to his defence even when he's in the middle of handling the threat. He gets huffy, saying he can take care of himself. You respond by telling him you won't let anything harm what's yours and once again, Heisenberg.exe is experiencing an error.

Alcina Dimitrescu

She is absolutely dismayed and angry at the giant lizard that barged its way through the doors and took up residency in her hall. It's tracking in mud and snow, burned the curtains, and took a good chunk of the wall, (letting in the cold).

Her daughters can't handle the cold, damn you!

Tries to fight you...fails. Turns out she's not immune to incineration and loses quite a few limbs (they grow back...eventually).

When she sees you shift to your human form, she's doubly-incensed...not only did you barge into her home but your also a D I S G U S T I N G M A N T H I N G !

You shift back whenever she tries to kill you so eventually she just gives up. (According to her she's waiting for the right opportunity NOT giving up.)

Wants to kill you, calls Mother Miranda for help and well, the same thing happens if you had crashed in the factory...she checks out!

Refuses to leave the castle for any reason, she's not leaving you along with her daughters.

Resigns herself to yelling insults at you from the balcony.

You respond in kind and it slowly devolves into a competition to come up with the most creative insults.

Your dragon form radiates heat...like...a lot. (Even counteracting the cold coming through the hole in the wall, which you attempted to fix.) This of course attracts the Dimitrescu daughters to the hall (against their mother's will).

If Alcina sees you lying their in dragon from, her three hive-mind children chattering away happily with you encouraging their curiosity, (Bela is half-asleep by your side, Daniela is complimenting your claws and asking about your bone structure, while Cassandra proudly proclaims her mother's are better than yours), she partly reconsiders her stance on you being a filthy, horrible, disgusting lizard man thing to just a filthy lizard man thing.

Seriously, your filthy, take a bath.

You quite enjoy all the little luxuries that can be found in the castle and decide to stay. Alcina almost shreds her hat in exasperation.

You get more comfortable and she starts to tolerate your presence, although she will take a swipe at you if she thinks she has a chance at killing you in your human form.

Jokes on her you can partially change and still fit through the hallways.

You never told her you've claimed the castle and the Dimitrescu family as your hoard but she does notice you being oddly friendly to her and she is "suspicious!"

You've met a few vampires and have a few suggestions for a more sustainable food source (buying blood donations from villagers instead of killing them). She's skeptical but considers it.

The first time you defend her is actually against Mother Miranda...over the phone. You have sharp hearing...and you don't like what you're hearing.

She's both flattered you would defend her so, and disgusted with herself for accepting a man thing's help.

When she realises she likes having you around, she starts to rationalise to herself that you're not just any man thing, you're her dragon man thing and therefore okay.

Gets more comfortable with leaving you with her daughters. You treat them well and keep them entertained?! That's a free babysitter if ever she's seen one.

When she sees the more extreme lengths you will go to protect the castle and her family, she is impressed and flattered and a little scared, and acts like it was her idea to have you stay.

"Oh, haven't you heard, that's the Dimitrescu Dragon."

Definitely rubs it in Heisenberg's face that she has a dragon and he doesn't.

Donna Beneviento

What are you!?!?!

To protect Donna, Angie is ready to fight you or die trying!

Just kind off avoids you and sends the pollen at you to make you leave.

The only one of the four Lords most likely to actually defeat you.

When you speak though, telling her to "release (your) mind, witch, or (you'll) incinerate everything", she's surprised and scared enough to actually do so.

Asks if you'll be her friend. Angie is cussing you out.

You see how scared and lonely she is and just *adoption mode activated*.

You only need to rest a few days, why not do so on friendly terms with your host. (keep telling yourself that).

It takes a day for you to shift to human form, partially because you don't want to have your measurements taken because Donna wants to make you a giant bonnet, (You reason it's a waste of resources, you'll only be here a short while).

Jokes on you, this is your home now.

You've never hoarded dolls before, but there's a first time for everything.

You will spend most of your time in human form since your dragon form kinda scares her.

Even though she's still scared of it, Donna does find your dragon form interesting and will ask to sketch you (from a distance...no fire please).

Make various over-exaggerated poses and joke about "draw me like one of your french girls" and she will laugh, (even though she doesn't get the joke).

She makes a plush doll of you. It turns inside out to shift between human and dragon.

The first time you protect her, she's scared. The flames take her straight back to her childhood, she's crying and she hides. You shift back to human form very quickly and find her, holding her close and apologising for scaring her over and over.

Will tear a man apart in human form to avoid this (or almost human form).

She slowly works up to being comfortable in your dragon form, the first time she falls asleep against your side is a good day.

You start insisting on accompanying her to meetings and escorting her whenever she has to meet another Lord. They start talking sh1t, they get hit (or burned...you let Donna choose).

Angie cheers you on.

Salvatore Moreau

He is terrified of you when you first show up.

You basically tear your way into the mines for shelter and he is frantically plugging the entrance to his home with the enzyme to hide.

Calls for "mother" to save him and that's how you find him.

You see this small deformed fish man crying in the mine and think, "i'm not gonna ask."

You settle in the slightly larger chamber and just lie down for a rest.

He soon realises your not going to attack him and ventures out to stare at you. He just keeps staring at you for like an uncomfortably long time, peeking around a doorway.

Eventual you snap and ask him to stop staring.

He slowly comes out of hiding and starts asking the basics.

"You can talk?" "Who are you?" "Why are you here?"

Seeing no reason not to, you tiredly answer all his questions.

Hearing about your long journey has him curiously asking about the places you've been to.

He quickly figures out you must have some sort of human form since you end up on the topics of favourite foods or movies and your favourites are all distinctly human. (He's the fastest at figuring this out and the least surprised when you shift).

Terrifying (hideous) creature going through an unnerving transformation into a humanoid form...he can relate. Although he's slightly jealous of how 'normal' you look when you shift to human form.

You two have a movie night where he proudly shows of his collection. It is in the middle of him analysing the context of THAT ONE SCENE that you decide, Yes...This one is mine.

The entire reservoir and mine is your territory and if anything comes anywhere near it they will be ash in 30 seconds.

When you protect him from danger, he's shocked that someone cares enough about him to f-ing incinerate a lycan for even looking at him weirdly.

You act like its natural and eventually he starts to get used to you.

Has self doubt and questions your motives...you tell him he's worth it or that he's your jewel.

C O N F I D E N C E B O O S T

Starts talking back to the other Lords when they insult him. It's easy with you hovering menacingly behind him, veins glowing with barely contained R A G E.

One source of friction however, is the fact that he doesn't like that you keep trying to kill Mother Miranda and he will latch onto you sobbing until you agree to spare her (for now...you'll get her when he's not around).

However, the longer you two know each other, the more self-confidence he gains and the more you talk through what Mother Miranda did to him and why he deserves better, (pointing out her manipulation, analyses whether she's ever 'cared' about him, etc...), the less bothered he gets. (Give it a few years, he'll cheer you on alongside Heisenberg).

Bonus:

The second you see Mother Miranda...it is on sight. (Especially if you know what she did to the Lords).

Cue you shifting to dragon form and preparing to unleash a volley of flame, "I smell the blood of children on you."

You may be comfortable(ish) with the actions of your housemate but you have STANDARDS.

Alright 😊 Hoped you like these headcanons, jaychirps. They were really fun to write and grew quite a bit. 😅

(I feel like Moreau's a bit ooc but I don't know enough about him to dispute that claim....)

Oh and p.s. ... asks are open.

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chibi-tsukiko · 2 years

Text

Character Sheets Part 2 of 8:

perfect aesthetic board made by @littleturtle95

Full Name: Myya

Gender and Sexuality: Female, heterosexual

Pronouns: She/Her

Ethnicity/Species: Azenean (descendent of the light)

Birthplace/ Birthdate: A small village/ October 13th

Guilty Pleasures: Receiving Flowers/ Chivalrous acts

Phobias: Fire and spiders/ creepy crawlies of any kind

What They Would Be Famous For: Creating the cure/medicine for a disease

What They Would Get Arrested For: Threatening to fight someone

OC You Ship Them With: Kai-Aris (tho they are not canon in the story, just something I've been playing with)

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Kai-Aris, probably by blowing something up in the lab where she is trying to work

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Romance/Mystery

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: The Damsel in Distress

Talents and/or Powers: Myya has no powers, but she has two enchanted fans given to her by Ishida which allow her to manipulate the wind. She is also a skilled in medicine.

Why Someone Might Love Them: Myya is easy-going and fun. She's always up for an adventure and her spunky attitude ensures you'll be smiling the entire time. She's got a quick wit, sass for dayyyysss, and will do anything for her friends. Even if she scolds them for it later.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: Myya is convinced that she doesn't need help from any one. Especially a man. It's not that she thinks you are incompetent or that she's better than you...she's just a bit of a control freak and doesn't want to seem like she's incapable.

How They Change: Myya doesn't have too much of a drastic change in the story. She does begin to see that it's ok to ask for help and get "treated like a princess" doesn't make her weak.

Why You Love Them: I admire Myya's independence. She's so spunky and friendly. I love how she isn't afraid to speak her mind or call her friends out when they need a reality check. She reminds me a bit of Catarina Loss in that sense. And I find writing her incredibly fun to write!

Tag list : @littleturtle95 @phoenix-and-dragon @khaleesiofalicante @my-archerboy @clumsyowl-in-a-fandom @radisv @raziyekroos @magnus-the-maqnificent @spotsandclawsthings @sassybookworm2020 @shadowhuntingdemigod @elettralightwood

#wretched and divine #myya #emmysoc #wretched and divine wednesdays

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cake-writes · 4 years

Text

No Vacancy (3/5)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Both Bucky and Reader are gonna get kind of dark in this, so… Dark Fic (I guess?), Very Dubious Consent, Somnophilia (sex with a sleeping partner – and it’s gonna be more than once), Breeding Kink, Rough Sex, Angry Sex, Hair-Pulling, Visible Marks, Breathplay, Throatfucking, Restraints, Subspace, Choking, Spanking, Degradation, Masturbation, Angst, Anxiety, Feels, Mutual Pining, VERY OBVIOUSLY 18+

Summary: You and Bucky have been on so many missions together, you’ve lost count. How is it that you’ve never shared a bed until now?

A/N: NEW WARNINGS so have a look just in case there’s something you don’t want to read. i also made a moodboard. other than that... heh. enjoy, my fellow harlots. 🙈

Part Two / Master List

The devil on your shoulder tries to frame it as a confession.

The angel tries to claim it’s a sign of a guilty conscience.

I pressured you into sleeping with me, didn’t I?

Maybe it’s neither. Maybe it’s both.

Pressure. You should have said force. You encouraged him – took advantage of him – spurred him on with pleasured gasps and desperate pleas and god, you feel so full. He’ll be dripping out of you for days after.

It’s wrong.

You should have stopped him. He couldn’t consent – but the memory turns you on.

What the hell is wrong with you?

Just knowing how easily he can overpower you even while he’s asleep leaves your body burning with a certain kind of heat you’ve never felt before. Not to this degree. You’ve always known that he’s enhanced, of course, but until last night, you’ve never seen his strength so up close and personal – never experienced it firsthand like that, and now, it’s all you can think about. He’s all you can think about, and he doesn’t even know what he’s done.

It’s debauchery. It’s delirium.

His hand pressing your face into the pillow – you couldn’t breathe.

His cock stretching you out so perfectly – you couldn’t think.

His cum filling you to the brim – you couldn’t stop him. Or at least that’s what you try to tell yourself, but it’s a lie. You didn’t even try.

You shouldn’t think about him like this. You shouldn’t want him like this.

But you do.

The morning is spent tiptoeing around him, like he’s a grenade ready to explode at any given moment. It’s evident that Bucky doesn’t remember a thing about the night before by the way he interacts with you: careful, guarded, like maybe you’re the grenade.

You know you should tell him, but you don’t.

The secret you keep is the grenade, and when the pin is pulled, you don’t know what will remain. You’re scared that he’ll hate you, but you’re not ready to consider that he won’t.

So you confess in a bout of anxiety, instead, because your conscience is muddled and things are weird and you can’t even act right around him anymore.

You’re suffocating.

You shouldn’t think about him like this. You shouldn’t want him like this.

But you do.

He wanted to sleep with you. That’s what he said, but in that moment, it’s crystal clear that you’re not on the same page. The sleeping with you mean is vastly different to the sleeping with he means.

There’s tension. There’s never been tension before. It feels like you’re walking on eggshells, and you hate it. You hate the way he puts you on a pedestal half the time and treats you like a friend for the rest. You hate that the only time he’s serious with you is when you’re joking around. You hate it.

Why can’t he just be honest?

Why can’t you?

It’s overcast outside – downright miserable, really, with rain every ten minutes and you with no wet-weather gear. Washington State is dreary at the best of times, but now it’s even worse. It reflects your state of mind; the storm clouds are your inner conflict, and every clap of thunder signifies a punishment for yourself for wanting this, wanting him, wanting more.

You have to tell him.

As Bucky pulls the beater into the parking lot at the drugstore, the rain finally lifts for the umpteenth time. It feels like a blessing, or maybe it’s a sign.

You slide your hand into his as the two of you walk inside, something you’ve done too many times to count whilst undercover: a fact further proven when his fingers lace with yours so easily, so comfortably, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And it is.

When the bomb drops, it won’t be anymore.

“Cold meds are over here,” Bucky says as he leads you in that direction – but you don’t follow, and he stops to glance down at your hands like he’s only just realized what you’ve done. Then his eyes turn back up to your face, and in those pretty baby blues you watch as the confusion turns to suspicion, and your stomach turns to knots. “What are you doing?”

“I—I have to tell you something,” you stammer, hesitant, unsure. Your voice wavers and there’s a lump in your throat that makes it difficult to swallow.

You’re nervous. Of course you are. You’re not ready to pull the pin.

“We’re not together on this mission,” Bucky informs you, plainly, like you don’t already know that. You know what he means by together; you’re not a couple. You know that, too. It’s painfully obvious that you aren’t, now.

You shouldn’t think about him like this. You shouldn’t want him like this.

But you do.

“We could be,” you suggest, to which he sighs in annoyance and pulls his hand free.

“Get your meds,” he says, tone clipped. “You can tell me in the car.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re left feeling even more uneasy than before.

By the time you get back outside, it’s raining again. Thankfully, the car’s unlocked, and you jump inside to find that Bucky has his seat reclined and his hands are tucked behind his head like a makeshift pillow. The radio’s tuned to some station you don’t recognize, but you’re in the boonies, now, so that’s really no surprise. A bit of static distorts the song that’s trying to play – something classic rock, but you can’t really place it through the low volume.

As you pull the door shut, he greets you with a sharp, “Took you long enough.”

He’s pissed off, and the way he eases his seat back up is further testament to that – slow, but precise. Calculated. Vibranium fingers tap the steering wheel, like he’s waiting for an apology.

Great.

The pharmacist just had to grill you about your sexual history, because this really is the boonies and you’re a single, unmarried woman looking for contraception. It took a lot longer than it should have, so much that you’re in a mood now, too.

“Sorry,” you mutter, locking the seatbelt into place. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, or,” you gesture to Bucky’s general vicinity, “whatever the hell this is.”

You’re already so tired and it’s only eleven o’clock.

That’s when you finally meet his eyes – just long enough to see that sassing him was probably a bad idea, and predictably it pokes the bear.

“If anyone’s acting off,” he begins, voice sharp, turning the engine back on, “It’s you. Don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, but figure your shit out. We’re on a mission.”

You and Bucky have argued before, but not like this. This is personal. The fact that he used your words from your earlier spell of anxiety is proof of that.

As if you need him to tell you what your priorities should be. You already know.

“Roger that, Sarge,” you bite out sarcastically, rummaging around in the plastic bag to rip open the pill package. “I’ll get right on that.”

Then you shove the pill into your mouth and take a swig of water from your water bottle, before you slam it back down into the cup holder a little harder than necessary. Bucky lets out a long, slow breath as he shifts the car into gear, and you don’t even have to look at him to know you’re trying his patience.

Good. He’s trying yours, too.

Crumpling up the bag and its contents, you toss it haphazardly into the back seat and pop your feet up onto the dash in a fit of irritation. That’s when Bucky turns up the radio, and you finally hear the lyrics over the static:

We are all just prisoners here of our own device—

Of course it’s Hotel California. As if you can feel any more trapped than you already do.

You’re suffocating.

It’s clear you won’t be having any more conversation until you arrive at your next destination.

It’s clear that Bucky doesn’t care what you wanted to say, or maybe he’s forgotten. Not that it matters.

Up until now, the confession burned hot on the tip of your tongue – a desperation to tell him about what happened last night, or maybe even an apology, but not anymore.

He was the one who woke you up.

He was the one who held you down.

As far as you’re concerned, you’re the victim here. Not him.

So you don’t say a thing. Instead you shut your eyes and hope to god he didn’t get you pregnant.

You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave—

The rest of the day unfolds with even less camaraderie between the two of you.

There’s friction, so much that you’re about ready to scream by the time you make it back to the motel. Maybe a little friendly fire would be sufficient, because you’ve had enough.

Steve would understand. He knows what a pain in the ass his best friend can be.

Bucky doesn’t get the door for you this time, not like he usually does; instead he walks right into your shared room and leaves you standing out in the rain. That pisses you off even more, and you slam the door shut behind you so hard that the window next to it clatters in its pane: old, decrepit fibreglass.

You’re lucky that the whole thing didn’t shatter. It’s only hanging on by a literal thread.

That observation sobers you up a little. You can’t keep on like this.

“What are you, a bratty teenager?” Bucky barks at you, and the way he rounds on you so suddenly sends a jolt of excitement straight to your core. “Do you want the rain getting in, princess?”

The last word is spat at you with such vitriol, it makes your jaw drop.

He’s angry. He’s pissed off. He’s had it with you, and it turns you on.

What the hell is wrong with you?

You’ve felt like this all day – just blamed it on your anger because it’s easier to focus your energy into that than on the fact that you want him. That you always have. That you always would, now that you know what he’s capable of.

It’s wrong.

“No,” is what you finally answer; timid, almost, and your shoulders slump in defeat. You can’t keep on like this. It’s only seven o’clock – less than half a day of fighting with him and you’re already over it.

You’re exhausted. And so is he, by the looks of it.

He’s drenched from the rain. The carpet where he’s standing is damp with water, and his clothes haven’t fared much better. You’re sure you’re in a similar state – t-shirt and jacket soaked through, not to mention your jeans, and you’re dripping water into a matching puddle on the floor.

There’s a pause while Bucky runs a hand through his wet hair, before he mutters under his breath, “Christ.”

The rainwater only adds to the atmosphere, of course, and although that certain musty, damp smell isn’t quite as bad as the guest services office, it’s still very present. It tickles your nostrils, makes you sneeze, and then you can’t help but shiver because of the bitter cold.

Bucky’s hand on your shoulder is all the warning you get before he shoves you toward the bathroom – not gently, but not too roughly, either. Just enough to make you stumble.

You open your mouth to rip him a new one for it, because you’re feeling defensive over how much you like it, being pushed around so easily, being put in your place – but he beats you to the punch.

“Go have a hot shower.” The way he says it makes it sound like an order, and you shiver again when your thoughts go where they shouldn’t. “Your cold’s gonna get worse if you don’t warm up.”

That’s right. Your excuse from this morning.

“Fine,” you snap, “but I’m not going because you told me to. It makes sense.”

He sighs in frustration and picks up his towel from this morning off the back of a chair – uses it to dry his hair. “Fine. Just go. I don’t want you getting sick.”

He doesn’t have to say how much of a pain he thinks it’ll be if you do. The implication is enough.

So you shoot him another dirty look and stomp into the bathroom, feeling pissed off and turned on and fed up with this stupid fucking mission and awful fucking town and this shitty fucking motel. The old shower creaks and shudders when you turn the handle, and it takes a couple of minutes to heat up, but soon the hot water is a balm and you’re sighing in relief.

That feels much better.

When you take a little extra time to relieve yourself of the day’s frustrations, too, those happy sighs turn to breathy moans, and you can only assume they’re being drowned out by the water – but they’re not.

The walls are paper thin.

Not that it matters.

The shower leaves you feeling a lot more refreshed.

As you exit the bathroom, towelling dry your hair, you feel so much better. Clearer. Even if it’s wrong to use last night as a fantasy, it still takes the edge off – lets you concentrate more on the mission than Bucky, which is the entire reason the two of you are here.

Problem is, he’s staring at you like that.

Her mind is tiffany-twisted—

Hotel California immediately dies in your throat; you hadn’t even realized you were singing it to yourself until the look on his face made you stop.

“What?” you ask, feeling awkward all of a sudden. Bare. You’ve got a towel around yourself, but it’s not enough. There’s something about the look in his eyes that’s dark, hungry, and it makes your throat go dry. Makes you feel like you’re on display.

Bucky clears his throat and pulls himself to his feet; he’d been sitting at the foot of the bed, leaning more like, probably waiting for you to finish your shower so he can have one himself. “Nothing.”

And then he pushes past you into the bathroom – leaves you alone with your thoughts.

By the time he’s done, you’re already asleep. Or maybe that’s just what you want him to think.

It’s cold.

You must have fallen asleep at some point; you don’t know when, but the digital clock on your bedside table glows bright red in the darkness – 01:12 – and you stifle a yawn. You’re still exhausted, not to mention sore from being put through the ringer over the last day and a half. Your body’s still aching from last night, never mind the soreness between your legs.

The blankets shift beside you, just a little, and you freeze – but Bucky doesn’t do more than roll onto his back. Judging by the steady rise and fall of his chest, he’s fast asleep.

It’s like last night was a dream. Like it never even happened.

He’s a light sleeper, usually, but he doesn’t wake even when you go to get a drink of water, nor does he stir when you climb back into bed, half-scrambling to get back under the sheets and away from the autumn chill in the air.

It’s freezing, but you can feel the warmth radiating off of him even from your side of the bed.

“Bucky,” you whisper.

No response.

So you reach out hesitantly, nervously, like he’ll lash out at you for even trying – but of course he doesn’t. He doesn’t know. Your hand splays across his shoulder in a gentle caress, and it’s only when you finally have his too-hot skin beneath your fingertips that you realize how cold you really are. Your fingers are like ice.

Or maybe it’s just an excuse for you to get closer.

Carefully, you lift his arm just enough to slide underneath. Your fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt and your cheek rests just beside; he’s warm, so warm, and your eyelids instinctively flutter shut because god, he smells good. Sandalwood and musk and everything him, just like last night, only stronger, more concentrated, right from the source.

That’s when the fire between your legs starts to burn. You almost wish it didn’t. You shouldn’t think about him like this. You shouldn’t want him like this, but you can’t escape it.

Last night did happen, and it’s something you’ll never, ever forget.

You shift to peer up at him in the darkness, but his breathing stays just as even – just as steady.

“Bucky.”

It’s not a whisper anymore, but it’s not so loud, either. Your voice is rough from sleep. That’s all.

His brows knit together, and for a moment you think you’ve woken him – but then his face relaxes again. He’s still asleep.

Your hand smooths along the planes of his chest, slowly, as if to savour the feel of his muscles under your fingertips; and then it slides lower, to his abdomen, and your heart starts to race.

What the hell is wrong with you?

He’s so strong, so ripped, so fucking attractive and you just can’t help yourself because you’ve never touched him like this. You shouldn’t be touching him like this.

It’s wrong.

Your hand dips lower still, to the waistband of his sweatpants, and you swallow thickly.

Another glance up at his face – he’s still asleep.

You should stop. You shouldn’t do this.

But you do.

Your palm brushes against him through the thick cotton and fleece of his sweats, and your heart skips a beat because he’s hard. It spurs you on, gives you the courage to wrap your fingers around him, pump him once, twice—

And then you’re on your back, with him on top of you and cold vibranium fingers digging into the flesh of your neck.

You can’t breathe.

There it is again, that expression that makes your heart sink in realization and your core throb in muscle memory. He’s not here. Not really. Those pretty baby blues of his are blank, emotionless, and a cold sweat breaks out over your skin when you gather that he might actually hurt you this time.

“Buck—” You choke out, but you can’t breathe. “Bucky—”

He’s too strong, too powerful, too good at what he does. He has your arms pinned down with the way he’s straddling your upper body, and he’s far too heavy for you to push him off.

You’re trapped.

Only when your vision starts to go a little spotty does he finally let go, and you gasp and cough for air – at least until you feel the vibranium trail up your neck and along your cheek, and suddenly you’re staring up at him with baited breath as he drags his thumb against your lips. When he dips it inside to feel the wetness of your tongue, you shiver.

You like this.

What the hell is wrong with you?

He says something in Russian, then, but you don’t know what it means. Probably should have taken Natasha up on her offer to teach you way back when. Not that it matters.

At your lack of response, he grips your chin to the point that it’s almost painful. Almost.

It turns you on.

Then he repeats himself, a little more firmly this time.

“Da,” is all you can manage, a breathy whisper, because ‘yes’ is the only Russian you know. Problem is, you have no idea what you’ve just agreed to.

You soon find out when he lets go of your chin in favour of burying his hand in your hair, to pull your head forward; and with his free one, he pulls down his sweats just enough to free himself, let you come face to face with his cock. All eight inches of him, thick and hard and leaking precum.

The breath leaves your lungs with a whoosh.

He says a single word, and you don’t have to understand the language to know what he means.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, first, and then you glance up at his face, like maybe this is the dream and he’ll snap right out of it. Then again, you’re not really sure that you want him to. The desire coursing through your veins feels like a bushfire, turning any rational thought in your mind to ash.

It’s not a dream. He’s not awake.

It’s wrong, and you don’t care.

You lean forward slightly to take the head into your mouth, and then you give it a tentative little suck. He’s thick, so much that you know your jaw will be aching by the end, but the salty taste of him is intoxicating, it’s addicting, and you can’t get enough. Your tongue swirls around the head, as if to collect every drop of precum he’s offered you – and then you take him further.

About halfway down is what triggers your gag reflex, and you quickly pull away to cough.

A mistake.

He uses his tight grip on your hair to shove your mouth right back onto him – and then he pushes past your tonsils, and your nose is buried in his curls.

Sandalwood. Sweat. Bucky.

You gag once, twice, feel your throat constrict around him, but he doesn’t let up – just makes you take every inch of him until you feel like you’re about to pass out for a second time. Survival instinct has struggling to push him away, has your fingernails digging into the backs of his thighs, has you drawing blood but you don’t even notice – the lack of oxygen’s already gone to your head.

It’s debauchery. It’s delirium.

You like this. You like it so much that your panties are soaked through.

By the time he pulls away, you feel a little dizzy, but you have half a mind to beg for more.

What the hell is wrong with you?

Each gulp of air feels like a blessing, one that he’s given you, that he’s allowed you to have and you look up at him again through half-lidded eyes as if to say thank you.

Then his cock’s all the way down your throat again, and your vision blurs with tears: a physiological reaction from gagging and coughing, nothing more. You’re not scared, no – you’re turned on. So turned on that you can’t think straight anymore.

You’re losing it.

When he finally relents, you rasp, “Fuck me.”

It’s in English, but he seems to understand just fine.

He lets go of your hair and moves off of you so that you can catch your breath. Your cheeks are wet, and radiating heat – but you don’t notice the latter until cold metal fingertips come back up to brush away your tears.

You feel dazed. High. Floating, and you never want to come down.

Clarity slowly comes as your breathing returns to normal, but everything still feels like a fever dream.

“Clothes.”

Another one-word order, in English this time, and you comply like you’re on autopilot because he’s him and your body’s buzzing with endorphins. Your t-shirt hits the ground first, followed by your pajama bottoms – but when you reach for your underwear, you notice that your hands are trembling. That’s how excited you are.

It’s wrong.

Not that it matters, because you discard your panties quickly, too.

“Spread your legs.”

After leaning back on your elbows, you do so – and when he finally touches you there, your head lulls back. Two warm fingers spread you open like he’s checking to make sure you can handle what he’s going to give you. You’re not sure that you can, now, but hell if you don’t want to try.

When he removes them, a glistening string of wetness follows – and then it breaks. Some part of you does, too.

His arms hook around your thighs before he pulls you forward, just enough to line you up where he wants you. You yelp in surprise at the suddenness of the action, but it doesn’t faze him; he just sluices the head of his cock through your folds, and then he pushes in.

No warning. No preparation.

You don’t need it anyway.

The first thing you notice is that you’re sore, an observation soon forgotten the further he slides inside. The stretch of him feels different, now – better, because you’re already so soaked and the saliva only adds to the slickness. The position he takes you in bears a resemblance to missionary, with him on his knees, and you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning because it’s so good.

That doesn’t last long. The last couple of inches sink into you all at once with a snap of his hips.

“Fuck,” you whine, holding onto the pillow above your head like it’ll ground you, maybe keep you from losing yourself.

It won’t.

With his fingers digging into your hips, you’re not sure how long you’ll last. It’s a grip that ensures full control of your body, something only further proven when he uses it to pull you off of his cock. Then he shoves you right back down onto him, forces you to take every inch of him inside of you, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

It feels too good. He feels too good.

You’re losing it.

The pace he sets isn’t gentle, but you don’t want that anyway. Not now. Not anymore.

Skin audibly slaps against skin as he fucks you – and that’s exactly what it is. He’s fucking you. He’s fucking the life out of you, rough, brutal, and there’s nothing admirable about it. It’s not the kind of sex that they show in the movies; it’s the kind that warps your mind, distorts your senses, makes you feel like you have only one purpose: this.

It’s carnal. It’s instinct.

You need to feel him blow.

It’s addicting, watching the sweat roll down his muscular chest. It’s exhilarating, seeing the furrow of his brow as he concentrates. It’s shameless, the way your breasts bounce with every punishing thrust, and you know he notices when his fingertips tweak a nipple.

Every part of you is exposed to him like this. Raw. Debased.

His.

It only sends you higher when you see the bruises on your hips.

You’re losing it.

And then he leans forward onto his forearms, caging you in – and it’s intimate. His forehead touches yours, his nose brushes yours, and you shudder because it’s not real.

Every part of you is exposed to him except for that.

So you pull him closer, giving him no choice but to bury his face in your neck, and it’s there he sucks a bruise; he leaves a mark, a claim, a scarlet letter on your skin.

It’s wrong, but it almost feels right. Almost – but it’s off.

The suddenness of him slamming into your g-spot draws you out of your head and back into the present. Even if it’s not real, he still knows how to play your body like an instrument, and he soon has you dangling over the edge, whimpering, begging, ready to implode. His fingers are in your mouth to stifle your moans, and he’s saying things – things in Russian – things you can’t understand, but it doesn’t matter.

None of it matters.

None of it is real.

When the pace changes, your ankles lock around his waist. He’s close.

“Come inside me,” you gasp, or maybe it’s a plea.

His hips stutter, then, and when he shoves it in as far as he can go, you fall.

It’s debauchery. It’s delirium.

His cock throbs, and that’s when you can feel it, the warmth, the heat – you feel each pulse as he spills inside of you, every hot rope of cum as he fills you to the brim. You’re clenching down so tightly around him, it’s impossible not to feel it. It’s impossible not to lose yourself. It’s impossible not to break.

When he bites into the tender junction of your neck and shoulder, you see stars. It’s a mark, a bruise, a delicate mixture of pleasure and pain, and his teeth leave your skin a reminder for the morning—

You’re his, inside and out.

If only.

Part Four

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes

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the-writing-mill · 3 years

Note

Fantasy au arranged marriage, pairing of choice involving Obi-Wan?

Is this... is this about the arranged marriage fantasy AU I abandoned for homework on the discord yesterday? Is that what’s going on here, anon? Are you on the discord server or does everyone just have this sort of thing on the brain recently?

In either case though I shan’t rehash that but do something else lol

Obi-Wan is born as the third royal prince in a mountainous, vaguely European country. The world is about at renaissance level technology, with a few bonuses due to the presence of magic (and magical creatures)

His majesty, King Qui-Gon Jinn, is a moral, stubborn ruler who is thought of fondly by the commoners but who is also quite unthinking at times, a bit neglectful and letting the nannies and governesses raise his children

His royal highness, crown prince Freemor is studious and quiet, and frequently works in the gardens. People are tentatively approving of him as crown prince, since he should be able to handle managing the kingdom’s graneries and other food resources well, but are worried about what will happen during foreign affairs, especially if they go to war.

His royal highness, second prince Xanatos, is... certainly aggressive and ambitious like is needed for foreign affairs, but there are too many rumors of underhandedness and selfishness for him to drum up support, especially by the public

Obi-Wan Kenobi, the third prince, grows up feeling the need to rise to his title. His brothers are already well-versed in their studies and have their own strengths physically. Further, Obi-Wan was told by a nanny when he was young that a true prince has a duty to help their citizens as much as they can and he’s never let that go

Obi-Wan, like all members of the royal family, also has the ability to use magic. And so he is sent off for a few years of his childhood to the academy run the druids/[insert magic pseudo-priest group here]. There he makes good friends with Quinlan Vos, a count’s son whose family is well known as sword mages

When Obi-Wan learns the basics of magic enough from the academy, he’s sent back to the royal family, where he proceeds to take a bre- proceeds to start studying even harder. (Obi-Wan has no chill)

Obi-Wan doesn’t take a break from studying combat, magic, politics, diplomacy, etc. (and becoming a pretty good dragon rider) until basically a few years later when Quinlan graduates from the academy’s full program and shows up to get Obi-Wan drunk. Obi-Wan’s servants quickly pull every favor they have in the palace to get Quinlan hired as Obi-Wan’s aide

Obi-Wan convinces Quinlan that he needs more experience in the real world, and that he needs to prove himself capable by his own abilities, not just the royal name. Quinlan agrees to help Obi get the experience so long as Quinlan comes along

Thus they begin their careers as errant knights

They gain a reputation for bad luck/chaos, and so eventually are only hired/requested when everyone’s sure some mission will go to hell anyways, in which case they’re very good at getting out of things in the best case scenario

During this time they also meet a certain disguised person from a certain royal family in a tavern and Obi-Wan of course flirts and tries to drink the man under the table

After a few years of this, with a few scattered months of being recalled home to the palace or sent to help protect a border from his father, Obi-Wan is called back to the palace again

It’s now that Obi-Wan finds out he has been promised to a neighboring kingdom’s crown prince to diffuse tensions, as there were two neighboring kingdoms seeming to be preparing to make a move. Obi-Wan getting married off to one prevents that kingdom from being able to attack and gets their support to help make the third kingdom back off

Obi-Wan is back for less than a week before he’s being sent off to his new life, which isn’t actually enough time to come to terms with his life getting completely uprooted and him apparently no longer being allowed to serve his kingdom how he planned to/was tying most of his identity to

Obi-Wan arrives at his new home the day before the wedding, and does not see his husband until part way through the wedding ceremony where they both take off their ceremonial veil/headpieces that covered their faces, revealing the man from the tavern

Crown prince Cody does not insist on having sex, although the are required to share a bed, and thus begins Obi-Wan’s somewhat awkward attempts to adjust to his new life

Obi-Wan attempts to be a perfect husband/married in royal, polite, keeping quiet, not causing trouble

He thinks that things are going well, and that he’ll be able to have a perfectly proper, tolerable life until he overhears his husband and a few of his brothers complaining about how distant and cold Obi-Wan apparently is, and how it seems like Obi-Wan’s birth kingdom didn’t really want the marriage

Obi-Wan runs away to the stable where his dragon is being kept, and stays with her for a while, cuddling up against he warm belly

He stays like that until he hears someone enter the stables and reflexively hides. Cody comes over to Obi-Wan’s dragon and takes care of her for a bit, checking her over and petting her and giving her a snack. Obi-Wan’s dragon clearly likes Cody (yes the dragon is Obi-Wan’s lightsaber, why do you ask?) and given the kind way Cody treats her, Obi-Wan can’t really blame her

Obi-Wan, after a night or two to settle himself down, decides to make a concerted effort to actually being a good husband by his new family’s standards

He invites Cody to tea, which is awkward until Obi-Wan switches the subject from personal matters to the latest political/governance problem. He shows up at the training arena more, until he runs into a few of the other princes and gets to spar with them a few times. He shows off a few magic tricks to the curious youngest prince Boba, when the boy finds him in the library

The princes seem to respond in kind, inviting Obi-Wan to things and being very friendly and affectionate, especially physically, which Obi-Wan’s not used to

The day Obi-Wan sasses something at Fives that leaves the man sputtering is Cody’s “oh no” moment, not that Obi-Wan realizes that the funny look Cody’s giving him is his husband trying to refrain from kissing him

Cody starts actually trying to court Obi-Wan after that, not that Obi-Wan does more but obliviously accept the attention, not even suspecting that Cody’s feeling more than a slight increase in respect and friendship for a few months

And then Obi-Wan gets word that King Qui-Gon Jinn has died

Obi-Wan is able to convince his new family to let him go back for the funeral with a well-guarded but small (and therefore fast) retinue, which includes Rex and Wolffe (? Probably? Another brother who is very competent and is not Cody, because crown prince)

The funeral is somber and formal and very much unlike Qui-Gon Jinn, and Freemor’s coronation is smooth and as simple as a royal coronation can be. Obi-Wan gives Freemor a thoughtful coronation gift and leaves. Rex and Wolffe have also come to understand what made Obi-Wan who he is much better and are very much planning on telling Cody and their brothers

A few months go by in which Obi-Wan finds himself falling for Cody more and more, and feeling guilty because he’s decided that Cody is only looking at him as a good friend now. Cody meanwhile is a bit frustrated by his new and improved seduction strategy both clearly working and not being enough to get Obi-Wan to make a move

Before Cody can act on a decision to just kiss Obi-Wan himself, Obi-Wan gets word that Freemor has died in an “accident”

This time, the kingdom is getting ready for harvest, so they can’t afford to let Obi-Wan go back. Obi-Wan sends a letter of condolences and sends an equally appropriate but far less thoughtful gift to Xanatos for his coronation

A year and a half later, after getting the kingdom through two winters very successfully, Obi-Wan finally confesses to Cody that he’s fallen in love with Cody, even though they had agreed to be political partners at the beginning. Cody (who had backed off on the seduction after Freemor’s death) responds enthusiastically

As they’re settling into their new relationship and dealing with much teasing, Quinlan Vos breaks into the palace (much to the chagrin of prince Fox, captain of the royal guard) and informs Obi-Wan that Xanatos has quickly proved to be a tyrant who can’t handle/care about running the country well enough to keep people from starving, putting most of the budget towards himself and the army

Obi-Wan… can’t exactly depose Xanatos. Even though he was third in line, he gave up those rights when he married the crown prince of another country. And the more distant relatives, while not as cruel as Xanatos, are in no way good candidates for the throne

The obvious solution, the Fetts decide, is to invade the country and take it over. Obi-Wan can’t really find a good argument since all the planning involves trying to keep civilians out of the line of fire

Usually, taking over a mountain region is very difficult, especially if you’re from a coastal trading kingdom. But they have Obi-Wan there to give them all the information they need

They spend the winter planning and begin to prepare, get everything ready after winter, and march in mid-spring

By the end of the summer, most of Xanatos’s army is defeated, or defected once they realized their royal prince/Ben the errant knight is trying to save the country with his new people

There’s some cool epic battle where Obi-Wan breaks the siege at the capital where Xanatos is holed up by flying him and Cody and a few others on dragons straight into the throne room/castle

Obi-Wan fights Xanatos as two sword mages, but Cody gets in the killing blow, despite being injured/knocked out earlier in the fight

Xanatos is given the proper funeral for a disgraced noble, and the people in the capital throw a party (technically it’s a belated coronation celebration for their new King Jango Fett)

Cody and Obi slip away from the festivities to watch from afar, and start talking about plans on how to actually rule the new territory and help it out after all the damage Xanatos did to it

The conversation ends with Obi-Wan expressing that he’s looking forward to going home (which is the first time Obi-Wan’s called the Fetts’ kingdom home) and Cody takes a moment to get over his shock before kissing Obi-Wan as the fireworks start going off overhead

Have I ever told y’all that I write really long outlines, btw?

(Also, side note: King Jango has a somewhat strained relationship with most of his sons. He raised them with very high expectations and little praise, and would not give them any responsibilities he didn’t think they were ready for. This led to, among other things, an almost co-dependent kind of closeness between the brothers. Jango, however, is more of a jerk than a bastard in this AU, so when his younger brother Alpha came back from abroad he was able to beat some sense into Jango, literally and figuratively. Boba is significantly younger than the rest of them and is being raised much more properly, but Jango is still in the process of mending his relationships with his other sons)

#ask meme thing #arranged fantasy AU #Codywan #I'll write a quick bit of prose after lunch #Anonymous #look at least this outline was only like three and a half pages

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echoisfailing · 4 years

Text

Not Realizing Its A Date-Sirius Black

(A/N) I don’t know if I should be using ‘you’ or ‘I’. Also gif is not mine. This is pretty much a non gryffindor reader. Also very sorry but I’m not good at pranks or even thinking up pranks so this one is kinda stupid. Ahhh I really like this and simultaneously think it's horrible. :(( Also I read over this like once so sorry about any editing issues.

Word Count:1784

Posted On: 9/5/2020

Sirius and I have been working on our shared transfiguration project for about a week now. It's a bit annoying working with him because he is always being pulled away, whether it's by his friend group, some girls, or him just trying to distract me. We have been working pretty distraction free for about 2 hours now and we only have a paragraph or two left. “So are you going to go to Hogsmeade anytime this weekend?” He asked me. “No, I don’t ever really go. Why?” I responded. “Well if you do end up going we should meet up at Honeydukes on Saturday.” He said. “I’ll let you know, when I decide.” I told him going back to work. He wrote down the last line and I went over it to check for any mistakes, it was fine, not perfect but we would pass. I started to get my stuff together and went to leave but he grabbed my wrist. “So, did you decide on if you are going to go?” He asked when I turned to face him. “Um, not really but when do you plan on going to Honeydukes?” I asked while I was talking his shoulders kinda fell and then came back up. “Um how about 12:30?” He said. “Alright.” I said nodding then going back to my common room. My mind was racing trying to decide as I went to sleep.

When I woke up it was already 10 something and as I got ready to go to Hogsmeade I thought it was a little weird that he asked me at all. I mean we aren’t really even friends, we were just partners in one class one time in our whole 5 years and he hasn’t spoken to me once before then. I mean everyone knows Sirius Black. It’s hard not to but when I sat down next to him he told me he never even knew I was in his class. Goderic, I hope this isn’t a set up. I mean he is nice enough but no one is safe from a prank from the four of them not even them. My mind was still reeling as I found myself at the door of Honeydukes. It was about an hour early so I didn’t expect him to be in there. As soon as I opened the door I had to turn around and leave because it was basically full to the brim of students. I can’t deal with all of those people and besides there was nowhere to sit, so I decided to walk around till about 30 minutes before then see if the status changes and if not meet him outside at the very least. As I was walking I couldn’t help but think. What if he just doesn’t show up? What if he's already there and he invited me to sit in a group of people? What if he just invited me to be nice? What if just the opposite and he is going to prank me? What if asking me was the prank and when I get there he tells me it was a prank?! These thoughts went on and on and by time they stopped it was time for me to go back to Honeydukes.

I walk up to the building and he is walking towards it as well so I just decide to wait outside. “You’re here!” He says kinda excited which makes my stomach flutter for some reason. I mean yeah sure he's cute and I’m pretty sure everyone attracted to men has a crush on Sirius but me thinking like that is dangerous I mean he barely knows me. “I mean yeah, where else would I be?” I joked he chuckled. “Good point, I just meant like already.” He reasoned but sounded sheepish about it which in a weird way made me feel bad. “Yeah, but to be fair so are you.” I quipped back at him. He moved his head towards the door and led me inside. Where it was still full of people. “Lets go sit over there.” He said pointing to the far corner. “Um don’t you want to sit with your friends?” I asked pointing towards the other side of the building, like they couldn’t even see us from over here. “Nah, it's just us. They’d ruin it.” He said scooting closer and I gave him a questioning glance. “Ruin it?” I questioned. “Yeah. Why’d they want to be here when it's just us?” He started to look a little worried, maybe? “I don't know you’re never without them, well at least one.” I tried to reason not fully understanding why he seemed so confused. He did that thing where he sighed and nodded his head, he also shifted back away from me. “So how is it I’ve never noticed you?” He asked. “Um this is the first year that (Y/H/N) has been assigned with Gryffindor. So it was probably easy to overlook me. There are like a billion kids at this school.” I explained. “Yes but somehow you noticed me.” He argued. “Yes but name me one person who doesn’t know about you even just a little bit.” I responded and he nodded his head and started smiling again. “Oh yeah and when did you first notice me?” He asked. “When you guys did that prank on the Slytherins changing room.” He cut me off. “Oh yeah in 2nd year that was one of our first, still a favorite.” He said basically patting himself on the back. “Not what I would say but if that's how you feel.” I said the mood shifted a bit. “What would you say?” He challenged. “I would say I prefer your more recent pranks where instead of pranking an entire group who are mostly innocent you guys now prank one person who you have decided deserves it.” I explained. “Yeah but they are Slytherins they deserve it.” He tried to reason and I rolled my eyes. “Some do but not all and even some on the quidditch team but not all. And also you guys decided to do it after a game they lost. So to me it seemed pretty shitty but you guys have moved on and isn't that enough.” I shot back. “Why did you agree to go on this date if you hate me and my friends?” He said bluntly. “Well, I wasn’t aware that this was a date and I don’t hate you or your friends. I really enjoy the pranks you pull and I think some are shitty or in poor taste doesn’t mean I hate you.” I fought back. “You didn’t realize it was a date, why else would I ask you to Hogsmeade?” He shot back. “I honestly had no idea, figured you were just trying to be friendly.” I said back. “Well I wasn’t but maybe it's better that this wasn’t a date.” He huffed. “Sorry you feel that way.” I said getting up. “That wasn’t an apology.” He fired back. “Well I don’t really need to apologize do I?” I sassed then left and went back to Hogwarts.

For the next couple days I felt like shit. He was avoiding me at all cost as soon as he didn’t have to sit next to me in transfiguration he stopped. I don’t know why I felt like this the whole thing was stupid my opinion hasn’t changed. I guess I just feel bad because he is avoiding me. Which I don’t entirely understand, I wish we could talk it over but I’ve already spent 15 years of my life not knowing him so what the rest ya know. I was walking to potions and got about half way there when I felt something fall on my head. I went to go touch it and it was a really sticky and slimy substance. All I heard around me was laughing but the loudest being that of James Potters. I turned around and went back to my room and tried to get this off of me, which proved to be very difficult. Every time I seemed to be making some progress it seemed to all come back. Magic wasn’t working and no muggle solution either. Eventually, I just sat under hot water clothes and all hoping that it would somehow work. It didn’t so I stopped the water and just stayed in the shower to dry off because I didn’t want to ruin anything else. I seemed to dry really fast which bodes well for my hair and skin. I heard a knock on my door which was weird because anyone that sleeps here would just walk in but classes were still going on so I figured it was a teacher. But when I opened the door it revealed none other than Sirius Black himself. I rolled my eyes and tried to shut the door but he stopped it and walked right in. He did a charm and the slime was gone. “I need you to know that it wasn’t me. I don’t know why he did it. I was complaining about our date to Moo-Remus and James heard and started talking about pranking you. I told him not to do it and that it was a terrible idea but he did it anyway and I am so sorry about it.” He rambled on. “So you realize how this looks? Like you got pissed over something I said on what you are calling our date but I didn’t even know it was a date, then stopped talking to me completely then days after you have been ignoring me your best friend, that you have gone on record to call your brother pranks me out of nowhere.” I explain. “Yeah but..” I cut him off. “I mean I believe you, but its really shitty, the whole situation.” I finish. “Wait, why do you believe me?” When he spoke he tilted his head like a confused puppy. “Do you not remember anything about our so called date?” I chuckled out. “Stop calling it that it was a date. And for your information I remember everything.” He quipped. “So you would know that you admitted to me inadvertently but you did, that you are unapologetic about your pranks.” I told him and he smiled. “So are we good now?” He asked and I rolled my eyes. “We were never not good, Sirius.” I told him and he stepped closer and kissed me. “Good, let me take you on a make up date.” He said. “You mean one that I actually know is a date?” I joked and he shook his head and kissed me again.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black imagine #harry potter #marauders #marauders imagine

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