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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 years

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Knight in Shining Red Armor | Dante + Child!Reader (DMC 4)

A/N: Hey so this is a rewrite of one of my first (and only) DMC fic from like...2016. This takes place post-DMC 4

You can read the og one on my DeviantArt! But if you're here for the new one then I hope ya'll enjoy!

Summary: Child!Reader was taken under Dante's wing after being saved from a demon invasion, but even years later he hesitates to tell them what he truly is, fearing they'll resent him for his demonic heritage.

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

"Hey, um..Dante?"

"What's up, kiddo?" The red-clad devil hunter asked, though he wasn't completely paying attention to you. Rather he was sitting at his desk, feet kicked up as he was flipping through a magazine.

Meanwhile you were roaming around the shop, stopping only to gaze at the massive curved sword with glowing gems hanging on the wall behind him. He mentioned claiming many weapons--"Devil Arms" as they were called--from defeated demons, but you were curious about their names.

"Just wondering..what's that sword behind you called?"

"The Sparda. It sealed the barrier between the Underworld and human world. Nero went through hell and back, quite literally, to return it to me, so don't even think about touching......it?"

Dante put the magazine down as he turned to see you holding the Sparda in your small hands. You smiled triumphantly, but stumbled a bit before the blade accidentally slammed into the wooden floor, making you wince.

"Oops."

Yet your little act amused him, as he chuckled and shook his head. "You're a little too young to go devil-hunting, I'm afraid. But maybe one day you will."

"And maybe you can help pay off Dante's debt, too." Trish lightly joked as she entered the room, taking the giant sword from you and putting it back on the wall.

Her words were responded by a groan from the male, who went back to reading.

"Whatcha reading?"

Dante slowly lowered the magazine to see you sitting on his desk, but he just snapped it shut and tossed it into the trash, out of your line of sight. "Nothing that eyes like yours gotta see."

"Okay....ooooooh, what's this briefcase?" Hopping off the desk, you ran over to Pandora and crouched down to poke the skull emblem.

"Pandora. That baby can turn into six hundred and sixty six different weapons, but...right now we only have access to seven." Now he was feeling like an exhausted teacher on a museum trip, trying to explain each exhibit to his hyper first graders--the exhibits being his Devil Arms.

Yet as you ran around asking him about more of them, he couldn't help but see his childhood-self reflected in you. Just full of energy and never-ending curiosity and optimism.

Yeah..he definitely saw the resemblance.

Eventually you decided to leave him be and dash off to your room.

And only then did Dante drop his smile, sighing as he put both feet back on the ground. He ran a hand through his hair before dragging it down the side of his face tiredly.

"You know..you'll have to tell them eventually." Trish reminded.

"How, though? That kid's afraid of all demons..hybrids or not. I'm pretty sure saying "oh by the way the guy who rescued you is actually half-demon" is gonna send 'em running, and...I can't risk that." He shook his head, gazing at the jukebox in the corner.

"But I think [y/n]'s old enough to comprehend the concept of not all demons being evil," Lady chimed in after overhearing the conversation. "Just give it to them straight and I'm sure they'll understand."

As much as Dante wanted to argue, he saw that she had a valid point. But he still worried...

How would you react?

It's been a few years since he saved you from a Mega Scarecrow, though it turned out that more demons invaded your neighborhood, slaughtering everyone you knew and loved. And as he took you back to the shop to patch you up, he could see the terror in your eyes, any traces of innocence long gone.

No child should have gone through such a tragedy.

A tragedy that he was all-too familiar with.

After the defeat of the Savior, things have been looking up. You've regained your happiness as you lived in Devil May Cry and learned of Dante's tales of devil hunting, though the memories of that horrible night never truly left you alone.

Along with that, just seeing a demon is enough to make you run and hide, and you were terrified when you first met Nero and saw his demonic arm.

From that incident alone, Dante became extremely reluctant to tell you of his own demonic heritage.

He just didn't know if he's only hurting you more by keeping it hidden..

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

Later that night, you were plagued by yet another nightmare. Different demons, same neighborhood...same deaths of your loved ones.

But in this one Dante got hurt, too. And you tried so hard to be brave for him, even shouting in the demon's face...but in the end you failed as it snatched you away, dragging you into the darkness of the Underworld before he could reach you.

Although you calmed down since awakening, you wanted to be sure he was alright.

So with what little moonlight shone in the shop's darkness, you located the worn sofa where Dante laid. He was engrossed in some TV program, though after sensing your presence his eyes flickered to you.

No words had to be exchanged in order for him to see what was wrong, as he sat up and patted the spot beside him. You smiled in relief and climbed onto the sofa, snuggling into his side as he wrapped an arm around you. "Th-Thanks, Dante."

"No prob. So uh..another nightmare, I guess?"

"Yeah, but..they hurt you, too and...I-I tried staying brave. I shouted at them to leave you alone and..they didn't listen. But...I think one of them looked scared of me."

"Wow." He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Gotta say I'm impressed."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Y'know demons are used to seeing kids scream and cry, not take a stand against them. Plus that's pretty epic of you to defend me, so thanks." With a smile, he ruffled your hair.

"You're welcome," you giggled a bit. "But..I really just wanna be as brave as you. I mean...Nero says you laugh at giant demons and tease them all the time. How do you do that without being scared?"

"Well..it comes with the business. Getting them riled up just makes the fight more fun. At least for me. You might think I'm crazy but if ya decide to hunt demons one day...you'll see what I mean."

"But until then, could I watch you fight one? Like a big bad one?"

"......."

"Dante?"

"..kid, there's a reason I never took you on any missions." Dante sighed, swallowing back the growing lump in his throat as he carefully planned his next words. "And how I always...bounce back from getting smacked by a demon tail. No human would be able to withstand that without some broken bones."

"Oh?" You tilted your head. "Then..how can you if you're human?"

"....because I'm not fully human."

As much as he wanted to shut up, he decided to tell you the truth once and for all, not sugarcoating anything:

He explained how his parents were a demon and human--a forbidden romance which resulted in himself and Virgil being born. His bloodline allowed them to blend in with humans, exercise their demonic abilities in battle, and even tap into their true demon forms.

All the while you listened silently, with not much emotion on your face. So it was hard for him to tell what you were probably thinking in this moment.

It scared him.

"...and that's it." He sighed, closing his eyes and looking away from you. "So go ahead and hate me if you want. I won't blame you for-"

"Can you show me?"

Dante blinked stupidly as he swung his head back towards you, wondering if he heard you right.

"I...wish you told me before, but I don't wanna be scared of demons anymore." You smiled a tiny bit as you elaborated. "Especially not one who helped me. So...can I see your other form?"

"...a-alright. Just...if you get scared I can turn back instantly, so don't freak."

"I won't."

He had doubts you'll keep your word, but he got up and activated his Devil Trigger form. As he opened his eyes, you gasped upon seeing how much they were glowing--being orange rather than blue. Red electric sparks danced around his metallic body as he observed you close, anticipating your reaction. He expected you to scream or cry.

Yet..there was only curiosity and wonder in your eyes.

"Scared yet?" He asked in his distorted voice, crouching down in front of you.

Not even the way he spoke startled you, as you just shook your head. "I was wrong all along..not all demons are bad."

"Not even this one?"

"Nope. You look awesome..like a knight in shiny red armor."

"...wow..I um...." For once, the talkative devil hunter was at loss for words. But when you learned forward to hug him around the neck, he was completely shocked.

Earlier in the day he thought of countless worse-case scenarios, and yet...the best-case was happening right now.

You were accepting him, hugging him even.

He couldn't believe it.

Dante smiled as he wrapped his arms around you, making sure his armor spikes didn't hurt you. "Thanks, kid. It really means a lot that you're not terrified anymore........[y/n]?" He was concerned about your lack of response, before realizing you were dozing off.

'Damn..I might make a pretty good dad, after all..' He mused, standing up and making the trek back to your bedroom. Then he set you down and tucked you in, relief and warmth in his heart.

He had a feeling that your nightmares won't be so bad anymore. Now he felt like he could truly protect you.

Why?

Because he was gonna be your knight in shining red armor.

"Jeez, man. Quit clanking around shit and---AH!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!"

"Shhhh! Chill out, Nero. You'll wake 'em." Dante was quick to shift back to his human form once he was outside your room, glaring at his nephew. "Why are you so freaked out? This ain't the first time you've seen my devil form."

"But still..why in the middle of the night?! Thought we had company."

"...just go back to bed, kid."

"Don't call me kid!"

#devil may cry x reader #dmc x reader #dmc 4 x reader #child reader #dante x reader #dmc dante x reader

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winterfrostlovetriangle · 4 years

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Home for Christmas

Hey all! Hope you all enjoy this fic! I just want to thank @valkyriesryde for being my beta reader and helping with the summary. 💕 Thanks for all your encouragement!

Summary: AU James Conrad x wife reader. James helps his wife settle into their new life, as well as deal with events that occurred on Skull Island.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, and implied smut.

Masterlist

*gif not mine

It has been a week since James and you had returned home. You had spent who knows how long shut up at Monarch headquarters and had finally been released, only after promising you wouldn’t breathe a word about what you’d seen on the island.

You were having a hard time returning to normal life - after seven years on Skull Island, you were not used to the luxuries of modern living. The bed was too soft, your body wasn’t used to the cold temperatures, and nightmares of creatures and experiences you had suffered haunted when you were able to sleep. You tried hard to hide the lack of sleep and terrible dreams from your husband - it had worked for a few days before James started realizing something was wrong.

“What is it, darling? Are you worried about seeing our family again?” He asked one night. James took one of your small hands in his, stroking the back soothingly. He was concerned. The captain knew he hadn’t seen his wife in years, but he was still in tune with your moods.

“A-a little. It’s been seven years and I have no idea what to say to them,” you stuttered looking down, unable to hold his gaze any longer. You were scared about seeing your mum, but you weren’t telling your husband the whole truth. “Maybe I’ll just stay at home...we could stay at home. Just the two of us and celebrate Christmas this year.”

“And you plan on telling your Mum you’re alive when? No, love. I’m sorry, but I already told them I was coming, which means you’re coming too.” James hooked his finger under your chin and brought your face up so he could look into your eyes. “You’ll have me there, my dear. Don’t be afraid.” His hands moved to cup your face and leaned down to give a sweet kiss to your lips. Pulling back, James brings you into a warm hug, squeezing just enough.

You stiffen for a moment, but let his warmth melt your body. You put your arms around his middle and squeezed back. You felt so safe in your husband’s arms.

The next morning was spent decorating the house. You had missed the domestic responsibilities of keeping house and you and your husband quickly found your rhythm again. Finished with your task, you went in search of James. You found him in the kitchen making lunch and dancing to a tune playing in his head. You smiled at him and thought back to times when you would cook or bake together - the fun and mischief you two had. Shaking yourself, you looked back at your husband only to find him standing right in front of you with a frown on his face.

“Sorry, love. Did you ask me something?” you asked. James tucked a stray curl behind your ear, his hands trailing down your arms until they came to your hands, where he interlaced your fingers with his. “I’m fine, honest,” you said answering his unspoken question.

He smiled down at you and leaned forward to connect your lips with his. The kiss started out sweet, but James soon pulled you flush against him, deepening it. His hands roamed your body and you moaned at the contact. His mouth traveled down your jaw to your neck while his fingers went under your shirt. Your body was on fire - you had missed his touch so much. You had almost forgotten how he made you feel, even with just a simple touch. You had been without human contact for too long, there were so many nights when memories of what James felt and tasted like was not enough. Right now, you wanted nothing more than for him to take you back to bed for the rest of the day, but guilt and unease crept in. You pulled away from the kiss. Looking down, you pulled yourself together.

“As much as I would love to continue this, you promised me a tree. No more distractions, mister,” you laughed. You snuck a look at your husband. He looked hurt and confused. You pecked him on the lips one more time. “There will be plenty of time to continue this later. I need some fresh air - I’m not used to being shut indoors for so long.” You grabbed your coat and gloves. James put on his coat and gave you a smile before putting his arm around your waist and leaving the house.

After about an hour of searching, you two found the perfect tree. James had them take it back to your house, while you decided to enjoy the afternoon with a stroll in a nearby park. You circled the park a few times before sitting on a small bench. You snuggled into James as he draped his arm around you. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes, just enjoying the quiet. You surveyed the area and noticed a young couple playing with their son. You blinked back tears at what could have been. You snuck a peek at James who was watching the family. He had a faint smile on his lips and a dreamy look in his eyes. You knew exactly what he was thinking. I’m so sorry, my love, you thought.

James looked down at you, concern evident in his countenance. “Y/N, are you alright? What’s wrong?” he asked.

The dam broke - you covered your face and sobbed. Years of pain, anger, and loss. James held you. He knew that you needed to let out whatever was bothering you. He knew words were useless. Calming down, you looked up at your husband.

“Let’s go home, angel,” James suggested. He kissed your forehead as you stood.

When you made it home, James shut the door and lead you to the couch. Kneeling in front of you, he took both of your hands in his.

“Please, Y/N, tell me what’s wrong. You don’t sleep, or if you do, it’s not very much. You haven’t let me touch you until this afternoon, and even then it was like I burned you. I am not leaving this room until you tell me what is going on,” he demanded. “Actually, you’ve been touching me since you found me, on that bloody island,” you started weakly. He glared at you, and you dropped your gaze.

James sighed, “I’m still your husband, love. You used to tell me everything, but now, you barely talk to me at all. I just want things to be the way they used to.”

“You know as well as I do, that things won’t be the same, James. We’ve changed over the past few years. Things happened. Things that…” you began to cry again. “Things that shouldn’t have happened, but we can’t change them. It’s all my fault.” the last part came out as a whisper.

“What do you mean? It’s not your fault,” he asked.

“You don’t know what it was like living on Skull Island. You only saw a glimpse of the horrors that I dealt with every single day.” you were angry now. You knew you shouldn’t be - your husband hadn’t done anything to be yelled at. But he let you.

He knew it was the only way to start healing. He’d been through it before and seen his fair share of army mates experience PTSD. James stayed silent.

“I was terrified, but I did what I had to to survive. I - I had to keep Hank and the villagers safe. I couldn’t lose anyone else. I couldn’t,” you continued. “I - I’m so sorry, James. I’m so sorry.”

James came up and sat beside you and held you again. “What are you sorry about, darling?” he asked. “I heard nothing in that story that you need to apologize for. Tell me, please.”

“Do you remember I told you I had a surprise for you for our anniversary?” He nodded. “I was supposed to be back in plenty of time to celebrate. I was so excited to tell you, but then...the b - baby didn’t make it.”

“Baby?” James whispered. Tears threatening to fall from his own eyes now.

You nodded before continuing, “Yes, a baby. The helo crashed, and we were all thrown to the ground. H - Hank found me laying a few yards from the wreck. I was the only one that survived. He helped me...he was there, but I wished it was you holding me that night. You that stood beside me as I buried our child,” you sobbed again.

James sniffed and said your name. “Please look at me, Y/N.” You shook your head. He lifted your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger so you couldn’t look away again. “It wasn’t your fault, love. You had no way of knowing any of that was going to happen. You couldn’t have controlled any of that.”

You held his gaze. His eyes were full of love, sorrow, and tenderness.

“Listen very carefully to me, Y/N. I under no circumstance blame you. I don’t blame you that our unborn child didn’t survive. It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault.” he emphasized. “I love you more than anything. “I’m just so thankful I found you. I didn’t want to believe that you were dead. I couldn’t - I would have felt it. I thought I was seeing things that day. I couldn’t believe it was you.” James cupped your face and leaned forward to kiss you.

“I thought I was seeing things too. I had been out in the sun and heat for most of the day, and when I walked out of the cabin, I thought I was hallucinating. But then you came over and hugged me, and I knew you were really there,” you laughed. “You really don’t blame me?”

“Oh love, how could I? There was NO way you knew you would crash. I don’t blame you.”

You suddenly felt as if a weight was lifted from your shoulders. You smiled at your husband, who quickly reciprocated it.

“If you want, I will gladly wait to have kids with you. I am more than happy it just being us for now, honestly,” James said sweetly.

“Thank you, James. I just need some more time to readjust to civilization. I feel a little lost,” you admitted.

“I know a little about how that feels, and I will help you the best I can,” he kissed your cheek. “Now about your nightmares. Please wake me when you have one. I am your husband, I want to know - I want to help you through them. Okay? We will talk about them or something if you want.”

You nodded and smiled. “I promise to wake you next time. Thank you, love.” You pulled James into a tight hug. At that moment both of your stomachs growled. You burst into laughter. James stood up and extended his hand to you.

“Come, Mrs. Conrad. We will eat and then go to bed.”

“Sounds delightful, Mr. Conrad. Lead the way,” you laughed.

Next morning:

James was woken by the early morning rays coming in through the curtains. He blinked his eyes open thinking his wife was already up. But to his delight, he found she was curled up right next to him. He smiled.

(James’ POV)

She looks so peaceful asleep. Just like an angel - my angel. I never thought I’d see her again. How I have missed sleeping next to her, feeling her against my body, so safe and warm. We’ll be alright. She will be alright. I know that now.

James caresses your cheek and you begin to wake up. “Morning, love,” he coos.

“Morning. How long have you been staring at me?” you ask.

“Not long enough.” James pulls you closer and you snuggle into him. “Shall we stay in bed or get some breakfast before we head out?”

You hum in response, eyes already closed again. He laughs at you.

“It seems you still aren’t a morning person,” he teases. “And you still are...are you sure we can’t just stay here?”

James kisses your forehead and gets up. “Sorry angel, but no. Let’s go, lazybones. Get that cute backside of yours up.”

The car ride was too short. You started feeling nauseous and gripped the door. James sensed your nervousness and grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. You looked over and gave him the best smile you could muster.

“Just breathe. It will be fine, Y/N. Trust me,” he encouraged. He parked the car in his parent’s driveway. “Ready?” You slowly nodded.

You walked to the front door and stood against the side of the house. You silently prayed the meeting would go well.

“Mum, Dad. Happy Christmas!” James sang out. You could hear the excitement in all three voices as felicitations were exchanged. “Is Fiona here?”

“James!” It’s so good to see you! I am so glad you are finally joining us this year,” your mom said.

You froze at her voice. You blinked back tears, you never thought you’d see or hear her again.

“Aren’t you going to come in, dear?” Fiona asked.

“Yes, but I have a surprise. It is mostly for you, Fiona, but a present for us all,” James smiled. “I, uh, found something on my most recent trip.” He angled his body towards you, his hand outstretched.

You took a breath, and took his hand and stepped towards him to face the audience. You smiled at your family. They were all frozen - too shocked to do or say anything.

“Hi, Mum.”

“Y/N, is it really you?” you nodded. She threw herself at you and hugged you like there was no tomorrow. You let loose the tears. Finally, she pulled back and you gave her a real smile this time.

James’ parents swooped in a gave you hugs too. They ushered you all inside and started asking questions all at once. You shrank back a little, too overwhelmed. Your husband came to the rescue.

“Mum why don’t we all sit down at the table and enjoy the food. We can ask questions later,” he urged.

The meal was delicious. You ate so much but enjoyed every bite. After dishes were cleared, everyone went to the living room. James sat on an overstuffed chair and pulled on his lap. He hugged your close and kissed the crook of your neck. You smiled and closed your eyes at the sensation. He nudged you with his nose, letting you know that he was there.

You told your family the story, leaving out the gory details that would have only worried them. Questions were asked and answered. You told them about Hank and the villagers. James filled in some details of his own story.

A while later, you had been filled in on everything you had missed over the last seven years. Suddenly, there was a knock at the front door. No one seemed to know who it could be. You turned to your husband who was trying to conceal a smile. Alright Conrad, spill,” you demanded.

“Well, Mrs. Conrad, that is for you. One of your Christmas presents. Go open the door.”

Opening the door, you were met with a Merry Christmas. Your jaw dropped. You couldn’t believe who it was. “You gonna let us in, Slugger?”

“Hank!” you shouted. You gave him a bear hug. Pulling away, you invited them in. “How? What?” you were shocked.

“Well, your husband here, invited us. Said you were having a rough time and thought you might need a familiar face.”

“I am so glad to see you, Hank.” you wiped your eyes. “Ugh, I have so much since I got home, it’s a wonder I still have water left inside me.” Everyone laughed.

You introduced Hank to your mom and James’ parents. Hank then introduced his wife and son.

“Let’s have dessert now,” Diane offered.

“That sounds wonderful,” Hank agreed.

“Seems you’re always showing up when there’s food, why is that?” you joked.

“It’s a gift, Slugger. What can I say?” he winked.

Everyone was talking and laughing. You needed a breather so you took a few plates to the kitchen. You stood at the sink and looked at your family and friends. You smiled. Lost in your own thoughts, you were brought back by two hands sneaking around your waist. You leaned back into James.

“I was worried about you, love. I didn’t know where you had gone,” he whispered in your ear.

“I needed a minute. And then I got caught up in watching our family all getting along.” You placed your hands over his. “Thank you, so much James.” You turned your head and kissed his lips.

“We do have a great family, don’t we?” You hummed in response.

You two stood there for a moment.

“James, I’ve been thinking,” you began. You turned to face him completely. His hands still resting on your waist. You fiddled with his shirt. “I don’t want to wait. I want to start a family now with you.”

“Are you sure, Y/N? You don’t have to make a decision now.”

You snaked your arms around his neck. “I am positive. I was just scared I would disappoint you again. But I know that with you by my side, we can face anything that comes our way.” You stood on your tip-toes and kissed his lips.

A voice from behind you interrupted your moment. “Excuse the interruption. I assume you told him then?”

You laughed and faced Hank. “I did...and you were right.”

Hank smiled. “Well, I think we’re gonna leave now. It’s been a long day for us.”

“Oh, ok,” you said. Um, are you staying for a bit?”

“Yeah, we are. We’ll see each other more, don’t worry kid.”

When the guests left, it was just you and James in the living room. You were sitting on his lap again.

You leaned in, “I was thinking we could start tonight,” you whispered in his ear. He raised his brow in shock. You laughed and bit your lip.

“Mum, we’re leaving now too,” he practically yelled. He leaped out of the chair and set you down, causing you to giggle.

As soon as the door closed behind you, James pushed you against it and attacked your lips. He couldn’t wait any longer. He deepened the kiss, pouring all the love and want for you into it. He pressed his body to yours and you moaned. You broke apart to catch your breaths, resting your forehead against his.

Happy Christmas, Y/N. I love you.”

“I love you too, James.” He pecked your lips before picking you up and carried you upstairs.

A few months later…

“I have a present for you, love.” You smiled as you handed your husband a small package.

He shook the gift, trying to guess what it could be. “Oh, just open it, Conrad.”

James ripped the paper off the box. He carefully opened the lid and frowned slightly at its contents. He held up a tiny pair of trainers. “Pretty sure these won’t fit, Y/N,” he said.

“You’re right.” You put your hand on your stomach. “But in another few months, they will.”

His eyes lit up. “Really?” he whispered. You nodded. James dropped the shoes, picked you up and spun you around. You laughed as he set you down. “Best present ever,” he said leaning down and kissed you.

“Happy birthday, James.”

“Thank you, love.”

#james conrad #james conrad x reader #james conrad x y/n #fluff #implied smut #skull island #captain james conrad

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gothamstodd · 5 years

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Flirty

Dick Grayson x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k+

Summary: “The coldest train car. Three o'clock at dark, remember alcohol and dancing. Our friends are gone now, she chose me to take her home...” 3AM, AJR

Warnings: underage drinking, a little innuendo ;)

Author’s Note- Maybe if I keep basing my fics off of songs I’ll never have to actually come up with a summary... Any who, this was a request from @victoriavickens a while ago, go follow!! And I just got around to finishing it up! I didn’t really follow the request super well (kissing someplace you shouldn’t be), but it’s in there! Anyway, thanks so much for reading, please let me know what you think! (btw, this is set when Dick is in college, before he’s become Nightwing, sorry if there’s any confusion)

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Weak yellow light from the streetlights outside splayed into the entry hallway of Wayne Manor as Dick opened the door. Images and sounds from the party swirled in his head. People dancing, several different types of alcohol being offered to him- all of which he pushed away. You, stepping away from whatever drinking game or dancing partner, and walking up to him with a smile.

“Anyway, she’s a total bitch.” You slurred as he helped you up the stoop, “And I really don’t think she’s right for her, and honestly just don’t think I wanna be around her.”

Dick wasn’t following completely, but surmised that your roommate’s girlfriend was staying over and you weren’t a fan. As much as he sympathized, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d made the right choice in bringing you back to the Manor now that he heard your shoes clacking on the hardwood and how loudly you talked.

He shushed you gently and pulled you down a hallway.

You’d asked him to take you home from the party, you were drunk. You stumbled over to him, and caught him just before he slipped out the door of the frat house. You gripped his wrist gently and looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. It didn’t take that much to convince him.

While he walked you down the sidewalk, you went on to tell him you couldn’t go back to your dorm and without skipping a beat or waiting for an explanation, he offered to let you stay in his room at the manor. He’d sleep on the couch and sneak you out in the morning. You accepted, and continued the story once you had sat down together on the bench of a cold grimy subway car.

To be honest, he didn’t listen as much as he should have in that subway car at 3 AM. You had your head on his shoulder as you talked, and you pulled him close because he was warm and the bench was frigid. All he could manage to focus on was the way it felt with you so close, and how scared he was that the moment you woke up the next morning you would feel nothing like how you did then.

“Oooh, Grayson!” You sang as he began to help you up the long stairs of the manor. He turned around and held up a finger to signal you to be quiet but your proximity meant his finger met your lips instead of the air.

“Are you taking me to your bedroom?” You whispered suggestively against his skin, not bothering to think twice about it.

“I guess,” His cheeks flushed, “Don’t read too much into it.”

You grinned at him, but he looked away, taking you the rest of the way up the stairs and down the next hallway.

You yanked on his arm and brought him to a stop next one of the many doors that lined the walls. “What?” He whispered harshly.

You looked at him through your lashes, your hands wandering to intertwine with his fingers. “What’s the rush, Dick?” He could smell the alcohol on your breath as you leaned in.

He flattened himself against the wall, but you persisted. “I just wanna kiss you.”

He could feel his cheeks heating up again. There was no way you meant that. No way you wouldn’t regret it in the morning. There was no way your pulse beat against your skin when you looked at him as quickly as his did when he looked at you. “Listen Y/N I really don’t think we should-”

“I like you, Grayson.”

There was no way you meant that. No way you wouldn’t regret it in the morning. He tried to ignore your words, though his palms felt damp with nervous sweat, and his heart raced when he looked into your wide-blown pupils. “You’re drunk, and I don’t want to take advantage-”

You interrupted by kissing him, and he found himself kissing back.

For just a fraction of a second he let himself enjoy your touch, the warm tingle that seemed to radiate from where your lips pressed to his, from each meeting of your fingers with his, from the spot where your hips pushed gently toward him. He shoved you away, scolding himself for not doing it sooner.

He pulled you quickly away from the door, it was Bruce’s- not that you gave him a chance to warn you. But he probably wasn’t even there... right?

Dick pushed open his own bedroom door and pushed you gently inside.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” You asked.

“What?” He ran a hand through his hair, his skin still warm with the blood that rushed to his face.

“That kiss.” You prompted, “That was a good kiss.”

You were right, but he wasn’t going to admit that, “You’re drunk.”

“Rude.” You snarked, “Hey can I borrow something to wear? This is so uncomfortable.” You gestured to what you had worn to the party, your tone shifting drastically.

“Sure.” He pulled a shirt and sweatpants from his drawer and tossed it to you.

“Hey thanks.” You smiled, plopping down on his bed. “Ooh comfy!” You remarked.

He chuckled, “I’m gonna go change.” He nodded toward the door. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“You can change right here, pretty boy.” You teased.

“Nice one.” He replied sarcastically as he slipped out the door, and by the time he came back, you were knocked out under his covers.

His eyes drifted to your face, peaceful as you slept and lacking the excitement you’d had when he looked at you moments before.

It was good. He told himself. Good, that you weren’t looking at him with misdirected lust anymore. That you weren’t meeting his eyes with false admiration.

He curled up in the arm chair in the corner of the room, sinking into the cushions. His frame was still thin and agile, and it wasn’t much different from the spot on the floor he’d chosen when he was younger and refused to sleep in a new bed. Though it was a bit softer.

He fell asleep to thoughts of you, convincing himself as the minutes passed that he couldn’t build up hope, and that there was no way you’d like him in the morning. No way you’d like him the way that he liked you.

Only a few hours later, sunshine streaming through the window brought a low groan to your lips. You opened your eyes to find a glass of water and container of Advil already on the table next to you. A headache pounded against your skull and nausea bubbled up through your stomach.

“Good morning.” Dick’s voice sounded from somewhere else in the room.

You shushed him and rolled over after downing a couple capsules of the Advil and half the water. Memories from the previous night were already rolling in.

You inhaled sharply. You kissed him. How could you kiss him? “Oh god I’m so sorry for everything I did and said last night, you can go ahead and completely forget I exist.” You groaned, hands quickly covering your flushed face.

A sharp stab of disappointment radiated through Dick’s abdomen. He’d been right, you regretted everything, you meant none of it.

He forced laughter, “Don’t worry about it.” You glanced up to see him digging through his dresser drawers- presumably for a shirt, since he didn’t have one on.

You bit down on your lip, looking him up and down. Well, that’s one way to wake up in the morning. You clambered out of his bed, still unable to tear your eyes away from him. ”I uh- I can’t thank you enough.”

He looked over his shoulder at you, now holding a t-shirt he’d picked out for himself. “It’s no problem.” He shrugged, turning back and rubbing at his sore neck.

“Oh my god, you didn’t sleep on the floor did you?” You asked.

“No.” He pulled the shirt over his head, “I slept in that chair.” He nodded toward the armchair in the corner of the room.

“I’m buying you a massage envy gift card there’s no way you were comfortable.” You replied quickly.

“It’s really no problem.” He laughed. “I’m flexible.”

His eyes went wide immediately, blood rushing to his cheeks, “That wasn’t supposed to mean anything, I-”

“It’s okay.” You giggled. “I thought you only got flustered when I was drunk and trying desperately to get in your pants.” A smirk played on your lips as you looked at him.

“And I thought you only got flirty when you were drunk and trying desperately to get in my pants.” He shot back.

“Thank you for not taking me up on that, by the way.” Your tone went more serious as you looked toward the carpet, “A lot of guys would’ve jumped at the chance to get with a flirty drunk but you didn’t.”

“Well,” He shrugged, “‘A lot of guys need to learn how to be decent human beings.”

You smiled at him, eyes wandering over his face. “That said,” You inhaled, “You should’ve shared the bed with me, at least.”

“I was fine.” He assured you, “I’ve slept in a lot less comfortable places.”

You looked at him quizzically. “Crazy childhood.” He brushed you off. “And I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“You’re too sweet for your own good, Grayson.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Can I give this back to you on Monday?” You gestured to the clothes you wore, forcing yourself to look away from his eyes. “I’ll wash them for you.”

Your eyes drifted over to his open drawer, something bright red and yellow catching your eye. “What’s th-”

He interrupted you quickly, “Sure. Yeah. Monday is great.” He lead you out of his room quickly. As you walked down the hallway, both your eyes lingered on the space on the wall where you had kissed.

After making down the stairs and through yet another hallway, you stepped out the large wooden doors of the manner.

“Wow, Dick.” You said sarcastically, “You are a master at sneaking classmates out of your parent’s house.”

He laughed, “He never expects me to go out the front door.”

“Listen.” Your tone changed, and he met your eyes. “I know I came on really strong, but as crazy drunk as I was, I meant some of what I said last night.”

He raised his eyebrows, not wanting to jump to conclusions. His palms were sweating again, and his heart was pounding into his chest, his reflexes doing quite the opposite of ‘not jumping to conclusions’.

“I like you, Dick.” You said. “And if you’re up for it, I’d really like to go out with you sometime.”

He grinned, “I’d love that.” A breath of relief left his lungs.

“Great.” You smiled back at him. “I guess I’ll see you in class then.”

“See you then.” He replied, still shocked. He watched you leave, making sure you got past the gate safely and checked your bag to see that you had everything you came with, a smile stuck on his face.

Finally turning away, he managed to make it up to his bedroom and back down the stairs to the kitchen just in time to meet Bruce and Alfred at the table for coffee.

“Your guest didn’t want to stay for breakfast?” Bruce asked, sipping his coffee. He barely seemed to look up from the table, his tone as deadpan as always.

Dick’s eyes widened, nearly choking on orange juice. “My guest?”

“Oooh, Grayson!” Alfred imitated from next to them and Bruce’s lips curved into a rare smile.

Dick’s face flushed, “I slept in the chair, they couldn’t go back to their dorm, I’m sor-”

“It’s fine, Dick.” Bruce interrupted. “Just drink responsibly next time.” The smile on his face grew.

Dick winced, “I didn’t even drink, they were the irresponsible one-”

“Relax.” Bruce let out a laugh, “I don’t mind. Though we could use a heads up next time.”

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strawberrylovessebby · 5 years

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Bloodlines (part one: Nightmares)

Pairing: Hunter!Chris (Destroyer) x Banshee!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Nightmares, corpses and a big and grumpy hunter. Five months since you became a Banshee, and to be honest? You just want to fucking sleep.

Warnings: Some bad words, a lot of blood and one (1) dead person. Also nightmares and a bunch of lies (does this need a warning?).

A/N: This is the first chapter of my entry for my beautiful bambolina’s FREAKY500 writing challenge! (@thewritingdoll)🍓 I really fucking love the prompt I choose and I can’t thank you enough for being my beta ;A; you have my whole heart! So, this is like my first fic in english, be kind please! Hope you peeps enjoy! Every kind of feedback is a b s o l u t e l y appreciated!🍓🍓

series masterlist

Before starting college two years ago, you thought about so many things that could go wrong while there. Like bad parties, too many lessons, nights spent studying and fake friends. However, not a single one of that thoughts included becoming a banshee.

And yet, here you were.

Five months after the bite you found yourself, in the middle of the night, in a place you didn’t even know where it was. Again. And at your feet; a corpse.

A woman. Laying on her stomach. From where you were standing you couldn’t see her face, but you could see, very clearly, the hole on her side. The flesh devoured by something.

The blood was everywhere, and you stumbled backward in the exact moment you realized you were standing with your bare feet in the middle of the pool around the body.

You bit back the tears, resisting the urge to scream, and wrapped your hands around your arms, tight. Your tank top and shorts doing nothing to keep you covered, while goosebumps raised on your skin.

The silence all around you broke when you circled the woman. Something telling you to look at her face. Voices, whispering quietly in your head.

Look. Look at her. Look at me.

Her face was pale. Eyes spent, watching nothing. Dread still lingering on her features.

Then, the woman was watching you and a name rolled off her tongue with more blood. And you screamed, opening your eyes.

“ Hey! Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. It was just a nightmare. Shhh. ”

You focused your gaze on your best friend’s face, her brows furrowed in a worried look, and slowly you started to feel your mind come back to reality. You felt the warm air of your house, the hard wood under your feet and heard the noises from the street outside your building. But the chills on your skin were still there, just like the distant sound of the raspy voice of the dead woman. The name still reverberating inside your mind.

“ Are you okay? ”

Your best friend voice startled you and you looked back at her. You didn’t notice that your gaze shifted from her to the door in front of you. And just in that moment you realized that you were standing in the entryway of your house.

“ I… yes. Sorry, I’m okay, just… ”

“ Don’t worry… let’s go back to sleep, okay? ”

“ Yeah. Sure… ”

You didn’t really try to fall asleep again for the few hours until morning, too scared you’d wake up in the street this time, or worse, that you’d see again the face of that woman.

The name she told you still clear in your mind. Were you supposed to know the person that name belonged to? You weren’t sure why, but it weighed on your tongue, so you left it slip out your mouth, breaking the silence in your room.

“ Chris. ”

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　•••

The morning went like any other day. Neither you or your roommate talked about what happened the night before. You convinced her many months ago that it was just stress, and you thanked anyone that was listening that she actually believed it.

You were ready to forget everything about that nightmare. Put the dead woman in the corner of your mind where you started to hide every weird thing you saw since the day you were bitten by that fucking alpha.

But life’s never so easy, right?

Most of the times, when you weren’t in your house, inside the college or at work in the library you focused yourself on the road you had to do. Keep your mind on the street. But that morning you couldn’t, because of the distant buzz in your ears.

The voices weren’t loud enough to be annoying, but they kept you distracted. You didn’t notice you took the way on your right instead to keep going straight ahead. Neither did you see the policemen until the alarm of one of the police cars snapped you out of your thoughts.

You looked around yourself, cursing under your breath. You were definitely very far away from your college. And that place looked familiar, in a disturbing way.

A chill ran up your spine the moment you realized that you were standing not too distant from the spot where the dead woman was, in your nightmare.

You should spin on your heels and run to college; you were already late! But you couldn’t. So you didn’t.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and one step after another you made your way between the small group of people that blocked your view. A crowd of curious of every age and sex.

You managed to reach the yellow barricade tape without too many problems, the distant voices in your ears becoming more than a soft buzz the moment your eyes landed on the figure laying on the ground. The body was half covered from the agents scattered all around the place, but you could recognize the woman anyway. Same clothes, same hair and same pool of blood circling her middle and painting the floor.

Just like in the nightmare, you couldn’t see her face.

One of the agents, FBI perhaps, stood up after checking the corpse and your gaze was drawn to his face. He pinched the base of his nose, closing his eyes, and he seemed just so tired. And sad.

The man, after a long sigh, covered his eyes with the same hand, that then slipped over his buzzed haircut until the back of his head. His eyes looked down at the woman and you could see him talk, but you were too far to hear, or even try to read his lips. You averted your gaze, watching around him, trying to understand with who was he talking, but he was the only one near the body. And the only FBI agent too.

With every passing second the voices were becoming more insistent and you wrapped your arms around your waist. You couldn’t stay any longer, not without ending with a major headache and a lot of other nightmares. You couldn’t help anyway, no one ever would believe in what you could do. No one.

You watched the body one last time, before finding yourself in need to see again that FBI agent. So you looked up, searching the man, and you found him already looking at you from afar.

Your eyes locked together and you felt the voices roaring in your head, almost screaming the name the dead woman told you.

Chris. Chris. Chris!

You pressed your hands on your ears, closing your eyes, whining for the pain all those voices were making you feel. And you almost forgot that you were surrounded by people, the dead so loud that you couldn’t even understand what was real and what was just inside your mind.

You opened your eyes when you felt strong arms beneath you and a warm chest pressed against your side. It wasn’t easy to focus your gaze on something -anything- with the fucking headache currently splitting your skull in half, but the screams stopped the exact moment you heard the voice of the person that was holding you.

Drowning down the cries with every passing second and rumbling low in his chest, the man’s voice helped you until your view stopped being just a blur full of black little stars. And the first thing you saw was him. The FBI agent. From up close you could see his eyes; oceans of deep and dark water, agitated by a storm happening inside his mind. They were beautiful.

“ Hey kid, I’m talking to you. Can you hear me? ”

“ I’m twenty-one… ” you cringed at your own words, it was definitely not the smartest thing to say to this hot man, good job genius. “ Uh— I mean— let me go, please.”

You pushed yourself away from the man, almost falling on your ass if it wasn’t for him holding your waist.

He looked at you with a quirked eyebrow and lifted his hands from you the moment he was sure you weren’t going to fall.

“ Thank you. ”

You spoke with soft voice, averting your gaze from the man before you and finally seeing that he actually took you pretty far away from the crowd. The corpse was now inside a black bag, you could see the coroner pointing the back of the van before she disappeared behind it with the stretcher.

“ Did you know her? ”

The agent voice made your attention shift back to him. He was looking at the crowd, but his gaze came back on your form slowly. He watched you up and down and you couldn’t help but notice that he was, in fact, analyzing you. For a second, you were scared he was going to see something, a detail, that would gave away that you weren’t completely human anymore.

But he just looked you in the eyes, same serious expression.

“ Well… ” a thought popped up in your mind, an idea. You had to know who that woman was, and maybe that agent would tell you something more about her, if you could convince him that you knew her! “ Yes! Actually, yes… she was my— uh— aunt! Yes, my aunt. And uhm— I was on my way to college when I saw the crowd! I don’t know how I’m gonna tell my mom about her… ”

You felt some guilt build inside you and you thought about the real family the dead woman should has. Was she an aunt? A mother? A wife? The last thing you wanted to do was disrespect her and her family, but you had to know who she was. And why she was in your dream. And, most important, who was Chris.

“ Do you know who could have done that to her, agent? I’m so scared… Oh! I should call her husband! ”

“ Husband? ”

“ Yes… uhm, uncle Chris, he— ”

The neutral expression the man had plastered on his face during all your rambling shifted dangerously fast when that name left your lips. In a matter of seconds it became confused, then angry, and a chill ran up your spine. He took you by your arm, his grip was tight enough to hurt you.

“ Who the fuck are you? ”

“ Hey, let me go! I told you— ”

“ She didn’t have a single family member alive, so drop the bullshit. How do you know that name? ”

And then it hit you. Every detail get into place. The face he had beside the body it was because he knew her. And the voices getting loud the moment you saw his eyes but disappearing when he talked to you. Everything.

“ It’s you. You are Chris… ”

A shout came from behind the man, where the police was still working, and both of you looked back to see who wanted to gain your attention. And there stood two more agents.

They called again, a name that it wasn’t yours but now you could tell it wasn’t even the man’s before you.

“ Fuck. ”

Chris, sliding his hand from your forearm to your wrist, began to walk, fast, pulling you with him. You wanted to stop, resist him, scream for help or maybe just run the other way, you could do that, but you didn’t. Because you wanted answers more than how much you wanted to run.

“ Get in the car. ”

He left your wrist and you opened the car door, sliding in the passenger side without a word.

#FREAKY500WC #writing challenge #supernatural au #preternatural au #destroyer!chris x reader #destroyer!chris fanfic #destroyer!chris x you #destroyer!chris au #sebastian stan fic #hunter!chris (destroyer)#destroyer!chris #bloodlines #my writing

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green-eyeddragonfanfiction · 6 years

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Us Against the World, Part 1: The Escape

Pairing: Hunter!Bucky x Female!Reader x Vampire!Steve Summary: A year since you discovered Steve was a vampire and met Bucky, all in the same night. A lot has changed since then, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. With the world out to get you, you take each and every day with the two men as a blessing. Even if one is a bloodsucking immortal vampire and the other promises to put a bullet in his skull if he hurts you. Warnings: Blood, blood consumption Word Count: ~2,046 A/N: This is the sequel for A Night to Remember. ANtR isn’t required reading, but it’s a short fic, well worth the time just for the bit of background you get! I’m playing fast and loose with Supernatural lore here. Bear with me.

Masterlist // A Night to Remember Masterlist

Next Chapter

“Go go go!” Steve yelled as he shoved himself next to you on Baby’s already-cramped bench seat and slammed the passenger door shut so hard the whole car shook.

“Don’t have to tell me twice!” Bucky said, strained, as he flicked the ignition and slammed his foot down on the gas pedal the moment he was able. Baby’s tires screeched and skidded in the gravel for a few agonizingly long moments before they eventually found traction.

You spun in your seat and stared out the rear window, looking for any movement in the trees. Steve exclaimed his distress as Bucky swerved dangerously on the narrow dirt road and a second later you felt Steve’s slightly cool arms around your waist, holding you firmly in place as Bucky wove through the twisting countryside.

“Jesus, Doll, you nearly made me run us off the road,” Bucky cursed, eyes not leaving the road in front of him.

“Sorry, Buck,” you murmured distractedly, frail human eyes trained warily on the rapidly-shifting scenery.

You felt more than saw Steve shift next to you, likely looking for any pursuers, too.

The three of you sat tensely for a minute before you finally felt safe enough to carefully twist back in your seat, this time wary of jostling Bucky’s arms.

“Anything followin’ us?” Bucky asked gruffly, sending the rear-view mirror a paranoid glance.

“Doesn’t appear so. Seems like the dogs gave up,” Steve said quietly as he turned his attention back to the two of you. He went still then a second later, nostrils flaring. “You’re hurt,” Steve said, shockingly blue eyes focused completely on you.

You fought back the fight or flight instinct that was attempting to rear its ugly head at the hunger in Steve’s eyes. A year together and he’d never broken his promise of never hurting you or Bucky and you weren’t about to let his being a vampire stop you from liking the man.

A quick pat down ended with you hissing in pain as your hand met your forearm. Sure enough, your hand came away red with tacky half-dried blood. You didn’t miss the way Steve’s eyes tracked your arm as you turned it so you could see the somewhat worrisome gash painting your sleeve red.

“You alright there, pal?” Bucky asked sharply over your head. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was likely shooting Steve a cold, assessing look.

Steve gulped audibly and nodded, gaze flicking up from you to Bucky and back down again. “‘M alright. Should get that patched up soon, though,” he said shakily.

“Is it a bite?” Bucky asked tersely, worry seeping into his voice.

You studied the wound carefully and tried your best to remember the fight that had gone south for the three of you so quickly. You were pretty sure you’d remember getting bitten by a werewolf, though. “Think it’s just a scratch.”

Bucky shifted restlessly beside you and you were surprised when Steve gently took your arm and looked at the cut closely, brows pulled low over his eyes and jaw clenched tightly.

“Steve...” Bucky said quietly, warning in his voice.

“’M okay,” Steve breathed, coiled tightly as a spring.

In a show of trust you turned away from Steve as he assessed your arm and ran your free hand through Bucky’s long, windblown hair. Some of the tension leaked out of his shoulders at the touch and you smiled fondly at him. “Thanks for worrying about me, Bucky.”

He looked a little bit too much like a pleased cat as your fingernails scraped gently at his scalp, the glance of his grey-blue eyes holding nothing but adoration. “It’s my job to worry about you. Both of you,” he said quietly, gaze sliding to Steve, who was still staring at your wound with an intensity that likely would have scared you a year ago.

Both you and Bucky twitched at the sound of ripping fabric and you turned back to look at Steve, surprised to find him ripping a long strip off his shirt off. You raised an eyebrow but a second later he was carefully wrapping it around the wound on your arm, giving you an apologetic glance as you hissed in pain as the cotton met the open wound.

“Not a bite,” he reaffirmed. “We can clean it up proper later, but it’s more important to stop the bleeding now,” Steve said calmly, as though his pupils weren’t blown wide with lust and longing from the scent saturating the car.

“Thanks Stevie,” you said with a smile, leaning up to peck him on the cheek. Your smile only widened as his cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink and he suddenly looked taken aback, not at all like the deadly creature of the night that he was. He glanced away and, now that Bucky was going a much more reasonable speed, rolled down the window. “Tasha’s is closest. We should stop there.”

Bucky nodded along to that idea, giving you another inconspicuous glance that you only noticed because you’d long since taken notice of his ticks. Unlike Steve, Bucky’s affection wasn’t as large or grand, but obvious in the small things he did; gentle touches, watchful gazes, unwavering loyalty, extreme appreciation of your cooking (pies, specifically, got the most love).

Natasha was one of the few hunters who would still tolerate your presences. The entire hunter community hadn’t taken kindly to Bucky working with a “bloodsucker” and, of course, you’d gotten a share of the hate, too. Many of his old contacts wouldn’t even pick up his calls and more than one had threatened to shoot him, you, and Steve on sight if they saw you.

There were others, of course. Bucky had saved Thor’s life a few years back and the big blond hunter vowed to help his savior, no matter the company he kept. Bruce said he didn’t really care either way and Bucky had said, darkly, that he was thankful that, out of everyone, Bruce was someone who hadn’t turned on them. You couldn’t fathom why; for a hunter, Banner was mild-mannered, intelligent, and not all that dangerous-looking. The most confusing might have been Sam, though. He and Bucky hated each other with a passion, but he still allowed the three of you in his house whenever the need arose. Clint offered backup but didn’t allow any of you anywhere near his house. In fact, none of you knew where it was. Tony was an eccentric hunter contact who seemed more fascinated by Steve- and, specifically, your and Bucky’s relationship to him- than afraid or disgusted. He asked a lot of questions (talking a mile a minute while he did so), and always rewarded you for his endless prodding with whatever reagents the three of you asked for.

However, they were the minority. Not to mention most other vampires hated Steve for staying with you and Bucky. Vampires liked to stay in nests together, after all. They generally treated humans like food, not sentient beings. That one of their own would stay with two humans and even hunt their own kind? Well, the three of you had a trunk full of more axes and machetes than one would find in a knife store.

So it was essentially the three of you against the world.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’m gonna take a nap,” you muttered, moving to crawl into the back seat.

“No you don’t,” Bucky said instantly, taking his eyes off the road long enough to glare at you.

“Bucky!” you whined pathetically. You were so tired... and you hadn’t lost that much blood.

“Bucky’s right, Sweetheart,” Steve said gently.

You turned to look at him, betrayed, but he only smiled kindly at you. “Not you too,” you moaned despairingly, head hung low.

“Then how about we make a deal.” You were surprised when Steve reached for your bloody hand and pulled it close to his face. Bucky tensed next to you, wary and watchful but trusting in Steve’s self control.

His pink tongue darted out and licked a long line up your index finger. The effect was instantaneous: black overtook his eyes and his fangs shot out, but he stayed very still, holding your hand gently in his.

Heat shot straight to your face at the naked wanting in his eyes, but you stayed as calm as you could, not wanting to give into any instincts that would instantly mark you as “prey” to his base vampire nature.

He closed his eyes as he licked slowly up your middle finger, a low sound of pleasure rumbling in his chest.

Next to you, Bucky made a tiny strangled noise but he kept quiet and still, not wanting to interrupt or threaten Steve while he was eating.

“I’m listening,” you said, but your voice failed and it came out as a whisper instead.

Steve’s unearthly glowing blue eyes fixed on yours again and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “You stay awake for the ride to Natasha’s-” a pause as his bloodstained tongue lapped at your ring finger. A shudder ran down your spine and the corner of his lips tilted up. “-You let her check your arm out-” You stayed deathly still as the took your pinky in his mouth, fighting back a shiver of fear and pleasure as his fangs brushed ever-so-lightly against your skin. But a second later it was out of his mouth, now as clean as the others. “-And Bucky and I make you feel real good?” He mouthed wet kisses to your palm, tongue darting out to lap at the sticky blood. From the way his eyes closed and he sighed, he was clearly enjoying himself.

You felt yourself drawn closer to him, loving the way you could make him feel. It was a powerful, heady feeling knowing how you affected him. You knew that making him feel good would feel good for you too, and-

“That’s enough of that!” A metal fist sailed over your head and struck Steve upside the head. It Bucky had been punching a human it would have easily knocked them out, but Steve’s head merely whipped to the side for a second. He blinked a few times, expression a bit blank, and a second later the black of his eyes retreated to its usual white and his fangs receded slowly.

He glanced sheepishly at you, once again looking anything but the large, dangerous predator he was. “Sorry...” he muttered, subconsciously running a hand through his bangs as his gaze drifted to the floor of the car.

A wry smirk lit up your face. “I’ll only be angry if you don’t hold up your end of the bargain later.”

Steve’s head whipped up so quickly it nearly gave you whiplash. “You’re not mad?” he asked warily.

You smiled up at him and gave him a kiss that had him blushing to his ears. “Didn’t hurt me, Stevie. ‘Sides, how can I stay mad at a face like that?” you teased.

Steve, ever the debonair gentleman, stumbled for words and failed to find them. Instead, he leaned back and placed an arm over the back of the chair. You leaned into his side, smiling when your thigh ended up resting up against Bucky’s as you shuffled about. Without having to look you knew Steve’s hand was on Bucky’s shoulder, massaging absently.

“Don’t go to sleep,” Bucky reminded you gently.

You smiled and knocked his knee gently with yours. “I know, Buck. Stop mother henning.”

Bucky merely huffed an annoyed sigh and didn’t respond.

“Y’know, it’s a good thing you didn’t get bitten. I don’t know if I could kiss you anymore if you smelled like wet dog all the time,” Steve mused, not quite able to keep the smile out of his voice.

For his efforts you elbowed him the stomach, thankful it was your good arm. “Shut up, Steve.”

You were pretty sure you ended up doing more damage to your elbow than his rib cage and were rewarded with a chuckle and kiss to the top of your head.

Narrow escapes from a pack of werewolves? Just a normal Tuesday. Together, the three of you could do anything.

Or so you thought.

Next Chapter

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manyfears-blog1 · 7 years

Text

Neibolt Blues

Prompt: Could I get a get a fic of reader feeling like an outcast among humanity. Like reader is just too strange and weird that most people find them off putting. (The story of my life.) And even when they make friends eventually there friends leave them because reader is a handful. They go to the creep house to be alone and sorta slump into a depressive state. Penny shows up and finds it weird why someone would actively come to "his" house. Reader is not scared, They are depressed its a whole different ballgame for the clown. Not sure what do with the human he allows them to stay around. Reader is thankful someone is there for them even its a murderous clown. Reader talks to him he listens, sorta. And thats enough for reader to feel listened to. Maybe reader leaves thanking him for listening. Then comes back and a bond starts to develop. Penny finds the reader so strange he likes them (He is quite a freak himself) and they both become friends.

Thank you so much @i-fuck-monsters for the prompt, I really do appreciate you messaging me!

So this one is a little long I’m sorry! I hope it isn’t too bland but I’ve never written something like this and enjoyed giving it a go. My inbox is always open <3

Words: 1684

You shove your hands into your side pockets and slink past pedestrians blocking your path; your breathing is sporadic as you hold back the tears welling up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You make your way through the town without drawing much attention, it almost feels like everyone around you sighs with relief at the thought of you leaving and never coming back, although you believe that to be true more than just a feeling, you stop at the edge of the footpath and stare into the road; replaying countless conversations, your brain cycles through all the people that you once called friends but have all left you like a run-down couch on the side of the road. With a huff, you kick a rock by your foot hard, not looking up to see where it travels but when you hear the ‘tink’ of it hitting a fence you look up, only then realizing you’re standing across from the infamous neibolt house. There are stories of something evil living inside that place, stories of people entering the house but never leaving, without hesitation, you walk straight for the door; the old wooden stairs wobble under your weight but without taking much notice you reach out and open the front door.

Once inside you scan the large room: It’s dusty and reeks of rotting meat, dead animals you assume, cob webs litter the peeling walls and dirt covers the deteriorating floorboards. The appearance doesn’t bother you and you make your way to an old couch stationed in the corner of the room but as you sit down a puff of dust further pollutes the air around you and you cough hoarsely, the coughing quickly turns to sobs and you lean on the arm of the couch and quietly weep. Deep down you hope the stories are true and you do go missing like the others.

The silence is disturbed by the sound of weighty footsteps stalking through the room not far around the corner near the staircase, slowly you lift your head from the arm and look around, heavy tears roll off your face and drop onto the old material below your head. It’s a tall, quite menacing looking, clown? Staring down at you with cold eyes. At least you think it is a clown but its palette is bland; dull, off-white costume with red ropes separating its arm sleeves and frills dangling over white gloved hands. You have no desire to properly analyse its wardrobe choices and gently rest your head back down although you’re still facing the weird clown but stare just past it. Something in the back of your mind is telling you you’re in danger but the mild concern is clouded again by the thick smog developing across your mind and throughout your body; your limbs are heavy, impossibly heavy, the ache in your heart has stopped and now you are numb, you’re not even really thinking anymore but just slowly embracing the nothingness the promises to relieve your invisible pain.

The clown is standing right next to you, still staring, it’s confused. Do you know it’s there? It feels nothing from you; no fear, happiness, not even an inch of curiosity? You might as well be part of the furniture as far as it’s concerned. It does detect a feeling but it wouldn’t know what to do with that: fear is sweet and enjoyable, whereas happiness is bitter. Prey without feeling fear tastes like cobwebs and mothballs but what if they are feeling nothing? The clown crouches next to you and forces its face into your distance field of view.

“Hello, Y/N!” it chirps happily. “You must be a little lost…What are you doing here?

The words rattle through your head a little making it hard to really make sense of the question. Silently you make proper eye-contact with it- the smile looks a little sinister but the fact it’s giving you attention catches you off-guard. Weird looking guy but it’s nice to have anything to talk to, really.

“Uh… Hey.” Your monotone voice creeps out of your throat. “I’m uh- I’m not lost, thanks.” Your dismissive responses show promise of ending any conversation, a tactic you know all too well used against you on the daily.

Before you drift away in thought again it talks to you again.

“Mind if I sit?” it asks, patting its hand on the cushion next to you.

“Sure.” Making sure to turn your head to avoid the dust assaulting your nose and throat again as it sits swiftly next to you, turning to face you.

“Why do you feel like this, Y/N? The emptiness is like nothing else.” The question is blunt and you have to repeat it in your mind to fully grasp the random intrusion by a creepy clown in an old house.

You give it all your attention now, your face red and puffy from crying and coughing.

“…Wait, who are you exactly?” your suspicious tone comes off harsher than expected.

“Oh! Well I’m Pennywise The Dancing Clown!” in his enthusiasm the bells on his costume jingle with his movements. Pennywise doesn’t give you time to respond- “You’re all alone, no friends, Y/N?” His tone becoming a little more derogatory. You used to be afraid of being alone, forgotten, hated, it used to keep you up at night with just the thought of everyone leaving you until it happened. One by one your ‘friends’ have left you. I just don’t think we should hang out spewing hate, twisting rumours to deter others from you You’re so annoying, Y/N, go bother someone else! This used to scare you and you could feel the familiar fear in the back of your mind but it was extinguished before it had a chance to manifest. Again, blank.

“Nope, not really, Penny- err?” The clown’s expression went blank for a brief second, like he was trying to conjure a different response, but his expression lifted slightly again. “Pennywise.”

“Well, Pennywise, I’m here because I want to disappear like the others, I’m already invisible to everyone else so I might as well..”

He seems to ponder over your response, what a weird clown, does he care about what I’m saying? Maybe he isn’t even real, maybe you’ve just-

“Really?” He interrupts- “Peculiar one you are, tell me.”

“Tell you…?” You ask, holding your head up higher to pay more attention to Pennywise.

“Tell me why you are feeling nothing, tell me what happened.”

You’re bewildered by his question, you perk up a little, straightening up your body more to face the clown sitting next to you and you scan his face suspiciously- You can’t read him like the others but you know the look of someone not caring, dismissing you like a fly on the table, but you don’t detect any hidden agenda to his questioning, in fact, he seems genuinely curious.

You take a big breath and tell him about your problems, it seemed so odd at first, you just met this thing and it has occurred to you it can’t be human but you’re not bothered by that in the slightest. It is more like talking to a very quiet, possibly disturbed, cat and you slowly begin to enjoy the time you spend with him on the dusty old couch. After a few minutes, you get up from the couch and walk around the decrepit house with Pennywise following you not too far behind, further supporting the disturbed cat theory, you talk and talk and without knowing, your spirit raises and you’re exploring the house more.

It’s late in the afternoon before you realise how long you have been here chatting and looking around, tripping over the occasional loose floorboard or rat carcass, but Pennywise caught you every time, giggling at your clumsiness.

“I should probably get going actually.” Realising the time, you look up at the clown, a little sad you should leave.

“Good.” He says, a little bluntly. You frown, have you annoyed him? He probably hates you like everybody-

“You didn’t disappear once in this house! Maybe you did something wrong...” He jokes, it takes a minute to process what he is saying but you begin to laugh, something so alien to you.

“You’re right, Penny.” You touch your face with an exaggerated expression of shock. “Maybe I should try again later?” Before he answers you leave the house and wave as you walk into the street.

The next day you wake up feeling blue again, was yesterday a dream? Did you really meet some weird clown in the neibolt house? You begin to spiral out into your broken state again, so many scenarios buzzing through your skull you feel sick. Lying back in your bed with a thud you sigh loudly and stare out the window; the sky is grey and the sun is hidden by the thick clouds. Out of nowhere you get this feeling, it’s an odd feeling like someone is with you, in your presence but not present, it feels familiar and you start thinking about the day before again. You get a warm feeling inside of you, only just noticeable but you notice it.

Without much thought, you roll out of bed and quickly change clothes so it doesn’t look like you slept in the clothes from yesterday, you did, and race out of the house. Making your way through the twisting streets you finally spot Neibolt and you run towards the dilapidated dwelling. When you open the front door you briskly search the rooms for Pennywise, he isn’t here! You frown and turn to walk out but just as you do, you hear the familiar sound of bells tingling behind you, you turn and face the tall clown who is smiling down at you.

“Hiya, Y/N! You don’t seem so lost this time, want a balloon? He giggles at your surprised expression, you step forward, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Yeah, lets hangout?”

“Yes.” He grins, you smile in return, the warm feeling in your heart spreads ever so slightly.

#it #pennywise #pennywise the dancing clown #pennywise x reader #sfw #depression #pennywise fanfiction #manyfears writes

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