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#cop geralt
penandinkprincess · 1 year
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okay but geraskier meeting of, “hi neighbor i’m on waving terms with. there’s a weird sound in my garage, and i don’t know if it’s police-call-worthy, but also i am too scared to investigate it on my own please will you come with me if only to dial 911 when i get murdered”
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stupidcowboykid · 3 months
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he would NOT be a fucking cop.
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grandapplewit · 2 years
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AU where Vesemir is down South near Novigrad, when he stumbles upon the aftermath of a massacre, with a sole survivor. Now, he may not be very friendly with the Cats, but an injured Witcher is an injured Witcher, and he has morals, damnit. So, he drags the Cat to the nearest cave, patches him up, and waits.
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andsoigotabutterfly · 7 months
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-Save Me From Her - chapter 3
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Tara Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: The past comes back to haunt, and it doesn't like the present.
a/n: Hai everybody! Sorry that this took this long to come out, but life has been lifing, and I needed to get a hold of my mental health and stuff like that. Anyways, enjoy!
warnings: amature writing, wounds, stabbing, Canon-typical violance, multiple POV's, mixed POV's, mass homocide, blood, blood, and more blood (also; not proofread. I will, but not yet. When I did, I will remove this. I just wanted to push this out as quick as possible.
“Lolly!”
Her voice was venomous as it echoed through the small room, shivering, and agitated.
“Come ‘ere…”
The voice disintegrated, everything in it becoming shadowy dust, blown away by the wind. Her voice faded as well, as it was taken over by a sound that cut through the very fabric of nature. A scream, loud, horrid, and filled with emotion. Filled with anger, with hate and rancor.
“She was screaming, shouting, and begging for it to end.” The voice sounded from the depths of darkness. “Yet you did nothing!”
Her face emerged from the dredge, emotionless. Her eyes like glass, her mouth ripped open, deep bruises across her features. Dead. Then her voice sounded again, the former emotions snuff from the words she spoke, replaced with sadness. She sounded bitter, heartbroken. Disappointed.
“We could have been happy Y/N. We could have been…”
----------------------------
Tara was worried about you. Ever since you saw the note, you haven’t been the same. You acted like nothing happened, talked to the cops about the attack whilst soothing her quivering body. They asked about the dead body as well, which you gave the full truth about; that he attacked you two yesterday and that in his drunk state, you could fend him off. With her help you went through about what happened inside the building today, skipping over the personal parts of course.
Even though you kept a straight, composed face, even when you talked calmly, not a hint of trembling present in your voice, she could see through your façade. You were shaken to your core. She saw the slight flinch of your eyes when the name ‘Lolly’ came up, she felt the almost unnoticeable tightening of your grip around her whenever they asked about your wounds. The little motions your lips, your body, they all gave you away. She has never seen you like this. Scared. You weren’t whilst talking back to someone twice your size, not when you defended her yesterday from the drunk, not when you two fled for your lives today. Not when the knife was inches away from your face. Never
Yet now, you were. The reappearance of Ghostface by itself made Tara too, your state had only worsened hers. She was afraid for you. The worry she felt for you overwhelmed every other emotion that would rise in her. She felt like she needed to stay strong, for the both of you. Falling apart was not an option.
After the ambulance patched you up, the cops approached you once more.
“You’ll have to come with us so that we may pick up your statements at the precinct.”
Tara raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t we just tell you what happened?”
“Yes, but to officially record it, we need you to be at the station.”
“But-“ Tara started but your soft, gentle hand on her shoulder made her stop.
“Let’s follow the officers Tara” you said, looking at the young woman. You were composed and confident.
She huffed but gave in to you. “Can I call Sam from your phone please? I left mine in your apartment.”
“Here” you mumbled as you absentmindedly handed her yours from your back pocket.
As Tara started to dial in her sister’s number, she saw it was already saved. At the name she raised her brow again. “Who is ‘Geralt’?
“Oh, it’s her” you say, blushing a little. "It's from Witcher.
“I know, but why is this her name?” she asks, turning the screen towards you.
You shy away from her unwavering gaze, then press the call button and push her hand back towards her face. “Oh, no you won’t escape this-“ she starts but Sam is faster, as she immediately picks up the ringing phone. She hears her voice calling out for her from the other end of the line.
"Tara! I just saw the news. Are you okay? Are you hurt? I'm on my way and be there as fast as possib-" her unrelenting assault of words is cut off by Tara.
"Sam, calm down and take a breath. I'm uninjured, but Y/N got a nasty cut on her neck. The police want us to go down to the precinct to pick up our statements. Meet us there?"
"Yeah, sounds good! Be careful!"
"Off what? I'll be surrounded by cops for god's sake!"
"We both now that won't stop him" Sam said, voice low and mournful. Flashing memories of the hospital ran through Tara's mind for a second and sent a shiver down her spine. The dead cop, laying limp on the floor with an open throat, the pain and the fear coming back to her all of a sudden. Her senses numbed, not hearing Sam's voice on the other end of the line, the lights becoming blindingly bright, yet she couldn't close or avert her eyes. She was frozen in place, helpless just like when she was crawling away from her. From the one that said she would be always by her side. The one that said whatever the case, she would keep her safe. The one that said she loved her.
She flinched when she felt something touch her and snapped her head backwards. At your sight she calmed, only now noticing, and taking in her surroundings once again. "Okay Sam, I will. Bye" Tara managed to say, then hung up.
"She knew?" your voice was soft, so soft. Why were you this thoughtful with her always? It made her heartbeat faster, making her able to believe she could be normal again. But life always had a way to prove her wrong, doesn't it?
"By now all of the world could now" she gestured behind you, towards the police line where an army of reporters were lined up. You sighed as you noticed them. "We are gonna meet her at the station."
"Then let's get moving." Tara felt your hand on her back, nudging her gently to get to the police car.
You opened the door for her, then scrambled to the other side to do the same for yourself. When you got in and closed the car, the sounds of the outside vanished, a comfortable silence filling the space. The vehicle soundlessly rolled out to the road, the lights of the city blaring by the window that Tara's head was leaned against. The cops in front were chattering quietly, trying not to disturb you two.
The Carpenter felt odd. Out of place. Everything was calm. Nothing should be calm. Ghostface was back. He was here to bring her and her loved one’s pain, suffering, and death. Why her? Then she thought of the note. This wasn't about her. No, you knew what the name meant, it scared you. This wasn't about her she realized. This was about you. She rethought the attack, every little detail she could think of. She was the first one to get called, but that didn't mean much. All the time, he was staring at you with his dead eyes, always attacking you. She remembered the occasions where he could have wounded her, yet he was focused solely on you.
Tara looked over to your side of the backseats, taking in your features again. You were just as disturbed as her, deep in thought and uncomfortable. You would have looked cute if one didn't know about what had happened. Tara saw your pained gaze, could feel that your thoughts were eating you up inside and hated every moment of it. Your usual smile wasn't there to light her up. She missed your crinkling eyes that could melt the coldest frozen hearts, your witty jokes, that you would throw in the worst time possible. So, she tried to distract you.
"I want an answer" she demanded, looking at you with furrowed eyes. She surprised you with speaking up, that she could see. You looked at her, confused and unfocused. "I want an answer" she repeated. You clearly didn't know what she was talking about, but she needed you to get speaking so you wouldn't shut off again.
"What answer?" your voice full of confusion.
"The answer to my question" Tara said matter-of-factly.
You rolled your eyes at her statement. "Which one Tara?"
"Why the hell is my sister saved in your phone as Geralt of Rivia?"
You reddened instantly, looking everywhere but her. "It was mainly meant to be a joke…"
"But?"
You gulped and glanced over to her a few times. She knew her unwavering gaze would brake your resistance, and it did. "Anika pointed out that he resembles some of his attributes." You say, still not looking at her.
"Like what?" Tara asked playfully. You looked like a child caught in the act of stealing cookies from the fridge. You swallowed again, clearly rethinking your life choices since the date of your birth. "Y/N, don't think that I'll let you off the hook this easily."
"She is strong, layered and protective besides being misunderstood and mistreated!" you blurted out, looking straight at her. Once you did, your eyes widened and went pale as a ghost. Tara could feel her smile widening to unimaginable lengths before bursting out in laughter. "I'm only telling the truth here! Don't laugh at me" you pouted. You looked so kissable.
"N- no it's not you it's just" she tried to say in between laughs. "It's just that it's so accurate. She would be fuming if she heard about this."
"And that's why she will never know!" So kissable.
"Oh, I don't know about that" she smirked. "My tongue is in a slippy mood these days…"
"No, Tara I'm serious!" you pleaded, face contorting in fear. "She would kill me! I have barely made it on her list of tolerated people! I don't want to end up-" she cut you off with her lips on yours. Your eyes widened for a moment, taking in what was happening, but she didn't give you enough time to fully comprehend it. She leaned back and watched your gaping face. After you finally shook off the surprise, you smirked at her. "Well, if I end up like this, I don't mind her knowing."
Tara rolled her eyes at you but the butterflies in her stomach rendered her silent. What exactly was this? You kissed her back, that surely meant you liked her too, right? She didn’t have much time to think because you leaned in to kiss her again, this time deepening it. You cupped her cheek with your right hand, whilst the left on found hold on her waist, gently rubbing circles under the fabric. When you had to separate for air, she pressed her forehead against yours, eyes locking with each other.
“I-“ Tara started, but stopped herself. The words she was about to speak didn’t feel right. Didn’t feel enough. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to think up something that would be better.
“I know” you said simply, caressing her face with your fingers. She opened her eyes again, and your heart started beating faster at the sight of them, full of hope and concern. “Me too.”
Your words made the swarm of butterflies in Tara’s stomach grow into a horde. “Since when?”
“Anika told me what you told Mindy” you said with a smirk. “That’s when I really started to hope for it to be true. I never fully believed it until know though.”
“You mean the time when they got together?” At your nod her face reddened. She then narrowed her eyes and leaned back. “Mindy is dead to me.”
“Oh, come on, they share everything between each other, and Anika could never stand my stare.”
“It was meant to be a secret!”
“If you want to blame someone, blame me for being a too good sister, from which the other can’t keep anything from!”
“Yeah, if anything you’re an idiot” she said, smiling.
“I might be” you leaned back too and smirked at her. “But I’m your idiot now.” Tara’s stomach churned in the most pleasurable way after hearing your words.
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The rest of the route went by in a blink of an eye. Tara and you had talked most of it through, and you were thankful of her for distracting you from your own thoughts. The note rocked you to your core. There were only a few people who could have known that nickname, but you didn’t see any of them capable of killing someone, let alone mutilate them afterwards. The only one died a year ago. She died a year ago.
When your thoughts would start to eat you up again the car stopped. The cops got out and helped you two leave the vehicle as well. You entered the building and were met with the familiar sight of the white walls and crowded office. You couldn’t remember how many days you spent here nagging and annoying your uncle. Yet he wasn’t here anymore, and the thought made you feel alone. Scared. Overwhelmed. Screaming, shouting, begging for it to end…
As if she read your mind, Tara grabbed your hand and interlocked her fingers with you. You looked down at her and smiled, reassuringly squeezing her hand. The cops started leading you two to what you liked to call; ‘interrogation chamber’ in your youth. Whenever you saw the cops bringing in perps in handcuffs, you would imagine how scary it must be for them. You would chase yourself into a corner of your mind where everything was scary and dark. Where she was still free. Still alive. Your only lifebelt being your uncle, who never failed to help you out of there. Now, the room you were closing in on didn’t seem so bad. It felt safe. Funny how time changes perspectives.
“Y/N?” you heard a familiar voice behind you. Not believing your ears your span around, searching for the source. “Y/N! Hey! How are you? What the hell are you doing here?” The source turned out to be a young man, with red hair and sparkling green eyes. Just like your uncle.
“I could ask you the same thing V.”
“Not even a greeting for your most humble cousin? I must say you’ve cha-“ he got cut off when you hugged him so tightly Tara was worried you might brake some bones. “There she is…” he said, wrapping his own hand around you.
“What happened? I thought you are stationed in Washington!”
“I got transferred here upon my request. Being a legacy of pa helped.”
“Kayoko, you two know each other?” one of the officers asked that were escorting you.
“Not intentionally” Vasco smirked and pushed your shoulder a little. You flinched from the pain. His eyes narrowed and without asking pushed the fabric of your shirt to the side, revealing the bloody bandage that was wrapped around the stitched wound. “What happened?” his voice got serious in an instant.
You took a deep breath before answering. “Me and Tara had been attacked in my apartment.” His eyes widened, suddenly gripping your bicep. “It was Ghostface. Now I’m involved in the homicide of a homeless drunk that also attacked us a day before and gave me this” you held up your arm. The wound narrowed since yesterday, yet it still itched and hurt. “Speaking truly, I was the aggressor that time, but that’s unimportant now.” You almost whispered the last sentence. He huffed and shook his head slightly.
“Just my luck” he shook his head. “The first serious case I get, and my family’s involved.”
“You lead the case?”
“No, Wayne does. You know, father’s old partner.” You nodded, as you did, in fact remember the graying man. “I’m in his team and for once, he didn’t put me in the backline.”
“Wayne as in Wayne Bailey?” Tara interrupted.
“How do you know him?” Vasco asked back.
“He’s the father of her roommate.”
“Quinn or E… Oh wait, no. His son is studying at Princton. So, you are Quinn’s roommate huh?”
“I thought her brother died…” Tara said.
“He did. Sorry, he had two siblings. I thought you would know this.”
“No, she never mentioned two” you said as well.
“Sorry to interrupt Kayoko, but we all have our jobs to do” a officer said. “After picking up their statements, you can have them back.”
“Of course, Stan. Apologies” he said and held his hands up.
Before you were lead away, you hugged him again and decided to throw the big ball into the game. “There was a note for me, pinned to the corpse” you whispered in his ear.
“How do you know it was for you?”
“It was meant for Lolly.”
When you pulled away, you saw his struck state. It looked like he froze down, his eyes full of sorrow as he looked at you “I’ll get to work then” he said, threw you a weak smile, and squeezed your shoulder again, before turning around and walking towards his place.
-------------
You needed to wait a little for Bailey to arrive. He was at the scene and missed you there.
“Stan and Mitch are awfully efficient when they don’t need to be” he huffed as he greeted you warmly. He was just as bright and straight as he always used to, even if time had worn him out a little. With you, at least. Tara was a different world. You remembered how he first acted around you and found resemblance. They just needed to warm up to each other, you thought.
They didn’t. From the point he started picking up your statement, he gave her his coldest self. Sam got there in the middle of interrogation, and her being around didn’t help much either. She looked even more dishevelled than last time as she barged into the room, even though half the police force tried to deny her that. When Tara reassured them that she was with you two, they reluctantly let her stay.
You didn’t know whether Tara wanted to hide what you had from her, so you tried to keep the usual distance, but the young Carpenter was having none of it. Once she got a hold of your hand under the table, she wasn’t letting go. Sam clearly saw but didn’t say anything. The only reaction you saw from her, was the small, almost unnoticeable smile on her concerned face, which you took as a good sign.
You explained everything again to Bailey, this time a bit more calmly and provided more information. You described the attack, the phone call, leaving out some information about you and Tara again. Then came the nickname. The grey man tried to go into the depths, but you dodged every question as your father and uncle had thought you to. Noone besides our loved ones will know about this. The vow you made to them resounded in your head, and you never took yourself for a liar. Noone else needs to know. It just wasn’t necessary.
“Who could want to see you two dead?” he asked with a resigning voice, eyeing you and Tara.
“Cmon’ Bailey, you know me! I’m the most charming person in the world” you teased and leaned back, smirking.
“So, half the city. You?” she asked Tara.
Before answering she shook her head slightly. “Can’t think of anyone who’s still alive.”
“Yikes.” you and Bailey said in unison.
The door opened and Stan showed his head in the door. “FBI’s here, claiming jurisdiction.”
Bailey’s face contorted from confusion. “Where are they?”
He stood and left the room, you quickly following behind. No matter how much time you spent here, it could still surprise you. You have seen federal agents once or twice, but never when they claimed a case for themselves. You were interested, the Carpenter sisters following close behind you. Tara wouldn’t let go of your hand, gently squeezing it, so you couldn’t release it, which you wouldn’t, not even if the world was ending. Especially not if the world was ending.
Three doors later Stan opened a door, motioned inside. A woman stood from one of the chairs, blonde, painted shoulder length hair, combat boots and a black outfit with a black leather jacket. You couldn’t make out what they were talking about, but the woman showed her badge and Bailey clearly didn’t like her. A case was laid open on the table, your and Tara’s picture on top of it. The sisters were talking about something, but you didn’t listen, your eyes focusing on the photograph that was taken of the corpse. It looked weird. Not how it looked when you were there.
Your train of thoughts was disrupted by Sam, who just noticed who was inside. “Kirby?”
“Hey Sam” the blonde woman greeted her and squeezed herself past you and Bailey to hug her. “Tara, and you must be Y/N, right?”
“Your detective skills are impressive” you nodded.
“You are the FBI?” Sam asked.
“You guys know each other?” the graying man asked, after Kirby nodded.
“Yeah. We went to Woodsboro high together” the older Carpenter said. “She was a senior when I was a freshman.          “
“We share a certain history, yeah” Kirby agreed. “Look, I’m not trying to get into a jurisdictional pissing contest here, I just want to help” she had a sly smile plastered on her face. “I’ll show you mine” she said, still smiling. “Et cetera.”
You huffed at her words. This was one of the weakest jokes, you have heard today, yet it still made you smile. Kirby had this look of pure confidence and kindness, that made you calm. You looked down at Tara from the corner of your eye and saw her also hiding her grin with her left hand, the other one still holding onto yours.
Bailey scrunched his eyes, but gave in, sharing some information about your statement and about the attack. The woman nodded along, and once he was finished, spoke up. “I already knew about the circumstances of the attack. If we are to catch this maniac, we will have to work together.”
“Yeah, good luck with that!” Sam said, as her patience ran out. “We are getting out of town” to exercise her point, she grabbed Tara’s hand and started leaving the police station. Your heart clenched in a familiar uncomfortable way.
“No!” Tara pulled her hand back and stayed close by your side. “I’m not leaving her behind!” The pain eased a little at her words, yet your mind was screaming for her to leave.
“Also, I can’t let you do that” Bailey cut in. “I’m sorry, but your sister is a person of interest in a homicide. She can’t leave town until the matter is resolved.”
Sam looked at both in disbelief. At Tara because she wanted to stay in a place where a psycho was on the loose, hell bent on hurting her, and at Bailey because of how ridiculous his words have made her feel. There was a maniac on the loose, and they couldn’t leave. They couldn’t leave because of the people that should try to do everything in their might to keep them safe. It was laughable really. When she wanted to word the thoughts that were circling in her head, the lights shut out.
The whole building went dead silent. The only source of light, being the streetlamps outdoors. You felt Tara leaning into you, her heartbeat fastening against your chest. You tightened your grip on her hand, and blinked, so your eyes would adjust to the darkness quicker. There was a hint of smoke in the air, but there was no logical explanation for it. It also smelled like smoke.
A pained scream echoed through the room. The scream of man. After a moment it turned into a growl, becoming ever more silent as something blocked the way of the sound. You heard Bailey and Kirby take out their guns, cocking them, just as all the other cops in the building. You snapped your head in every direction, but you still couldn’t see clearly, only the figures of people. The smoke in the room only got thicker.
A way too familiar voice resounded across the place, filling you with fear. His voice. “Did you miss me, Lolly?”
Another fading scream filled the room, but this time two shots followed it right after. The sound was deafening, and your ears started ringing. You could hear distant orders being barked out even though it came from right next to you, the figures of the two law enforcers disappearing from before you. A million thoughts were blaring through your mind, only some of them useful. Before you could do anything, you felt someone grab your hand and pull you with. After a moment you realised it was Sam, and stopped struggling against her, following her lead. But then she stopped in her tracks.
“No escape for you here, dear.” Ghostface spoke again, from right before you. You looked over Sam and saw him already stabbing towards her. You tried to pull her backwards, but it was too late. The knife sliced into her flesh, a pained groan leaving her mouth as she stumbled back. As you were still pulling her, a cop got between you and him, raising his gun. Three shots were fired, two of them clearly hitting him, but it was as if he didn’t even notice. He lunged forward at his shooter, opening his throat and chest with two precise and fast attacks.
You span around and ran the other way, the Carpenters by your side. The smoke had now filled the entire place, vision impaired. It helped that you had the building memorised by heart, as you took turn after turn. Shots were being fired and the smell of blood mixed with the smell of smoke and gunpowder, creating a metallic, hardly breathable atmosphere.
Then you tripped in something. As you fell, you let go of Tara’s hand and when you looked up, you couldn’t see her no more. You could hear her screaming your name, but you couldn’t answer, the smoke filling your lungs. Then you looked down at what you tripped in. Or as it turned out, who. It was a uniformed cop’s body, struggling for air. He had a stabbed wound in his gorge. Your hands were dripping of his blood, half your clothes soaking in it too. You didn’t know a human could have so much blood in their body, but when you looked around, you saw one more, with also as precise cuts as all the other victims you witnessed. All of them were stabbed at vital organs, or from where they would die in a few seconds or minutes. Not a second wasted.
“Oh, poor Y/N” he said in a condescending voice. “This must be pretty traumatic for you. I almost feel bad.” A hand grabbed your hair and pulled you back by it. “Almost” he whispered in your ear. There was a voice behind the modulator, that was familiar. Your heart skipped a beat after realisation hit you. But that couldn’t be possible. It just couldn’t!
You slumped back to the ground when she suddenly let go of your hair. You looked back behind you, seeing her figure falling onto her back. Another woman stood above you, and you could take out Sam’s boots. She grabbed you, pulled you up and started running, not even waiting for you to be able to catch your balance, just pulled you after her. She barged through a door, that led you to the Northern stairs, where Tara was waiting, tears running down her cheek. She was coughing hard, trying to swallow air desperately, yet she couldn’t. You looked at Sam for a moment, and after you saw one of her hands was occupied with a gun, you picked up Tara in your hands and started running down the stairs, three steps a time.
The ground floor looked similar in its form, but there was no smoke here. Bodies were scattered around the place, some of them civilians, some of them cops. All of them dead. You traced over the room, searching for a specific table, and once you found it ran towards it, leaning Tara against it.
“Y/N what the hell are you doing?!” Sam was trying her best not to snap at you.
“Tara’s going to suffocate if we don’t do something” you answered, opening drawer after drawer to find the item you were looking for. “To our “luck”, Private Alice always holds an inhaler at her desk in case her asthma ever comes back.” Sam accepted this, and turned towards the places Ghostface could come after you.
You found it in the fourth drawer and immediately turned towards the younger Carpenter. You aided her to take it in her mouth and pressed down a few times, just to be sure. She looked at you gratefully after. Her coughing died down slowly, and you helped her up. That’s when you noticed that everything was quiet. No shooting, no footsteps above you, nothing. Was everybody dead?
As to answer that question, the door of the staircase opened, and a very dishevelled looking Kirby stumbled into the room, followed by Bailey and two other cops. You sighed in relief when you saw Vasco in their group. The greying man barked out some orders, and Vasco and two others walked over to you, surrounding the three of you, whilst he and the rest of the cops marched out. Kirby joined him, her gun also raised, eyeing every corner before she disappeared behind a wall.
“Vasco, what the hell is going on?” you asked, suddenly feeling very weak.
“He jumped out a window, after we surrounded him” he said, very quiet. Why was he so quiet?
Then he threw you a glance. The glance, turned into a full-blown stare, his face horrified. You saw his mouth opening, but no notes hit your ear. Your side throbbed of pain, and you looked over to see, why. When you saw the opening that had been carved into you, you did nothing. Nothing else than stare at it, whilst feeling your vision darkening, and getting weaker and weaker. The floor came quicker than you could realise, why it was even getting closer. Suddenly you felt the floor hit you with all it’s might before everything became dark.
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starfirewildheart · 1 month
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Chapter 17
Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.
Pairing: Sy / OFC
Word count: 2,512
Rating: no one under 17. I'm not responsible for what you read. Kindly police yourself.
Chapter 17
August glanced over his shoulder into the back seat. Three weeks and two surgeries later the hospital finally agreed to let Debbie go home. She still had a long road ahead and it still didn't guarantee a full recovery and her anxiety was through the roof at times and at other times was so depressed she was nearly catatonic and a few normal days scattered in between. She was refusing to eat and in general sulking like a brat. Sy hoped getting her home would help.
Mike had been released after a week and a half. Walt had taken custody of him and Napoleon and Will were staying with them as security until everyone was jailed, including the corrupt cops. He was recovering physically but emotionally he was distant and shutting them out.
Geralt turned onto the long, tree lined drive admiring the land and imagining what it looked like in summer. He loved the country and a working ranch brought a warm feeling to his heart. He drove past the barns where a few work trucks sat along with ranch hands tending horses noting a beautiful chestnut mare before turning his attention back to the drive. Finally they pulled up in front of the large ranch style home and parked. Everyone got out, Sy helping Deb out and lifting her into his arms bridal style while Geralt and August got everyone's bags.
Deb took a deep breath of the fresh air ecstatic to smell anything besides anesthetic and medicinal scents that she'd been trapped in for weeks. 
“Where's Aika?” Deb asked, seeking out their furry friend. 
“She's with my sister and the kids. They are bringing her home tomorrow. “ He gently bounced her in his arms. “Where would ya like to get comfy sugar?” Sy asked as they all walked in. All the Christmas stuff was still up even though it was after Christmas now because they hadn't got to celebrate yet.
“Bath.”
 “Baby,” he started but was cut off. 
“Bath,” firmer.
“You want to wash off again?” He could see wanting to smell like their soap and not hospital bath in a bag shit so he started toward their ensuite bathroom. He sat her on the edge of the bed with her bad leg up and started gathering clean clothes for her.
“No Sy, a real bath.”
He turned to her. “You know you can't get your leg wet Deb. Your stitches could come apart or you could get an infection.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.  “I don't care. I've not been in a bath or even a shower in three weeks!” When he arched his brow at her and crossed his arms over his chest she sighed and stood shakily on her good leg. “I'll do it myself!”
“Sit down!” He yelled and stepped forward. She sat down and blinked up at him with wide eyes. He hated yelling at her after all she'd been through but he refused to let her act out like that. “Little girl, you will not hurt yourself or cause any further injury just because you want to get your way.” He gripped her chin in his big hand and forced her to hold eye contact. “I'm gonna try to get you into the bathtub but if it doesn't work I will give you a sponge bath and you won't fight me on it. Got it?”
“Yes sir,” She agrees . “I'm sorry I yelled. I just feel so dirty and I haven't… I know I've been washed but I just
.. I still feel their hands on me and i…I just want to wash it all away.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. 
Fifteen minutes later she was perched on the vanity in nothing but a shirt and bulky leg brace that went from her upper thigh to her ankle. 
Sy was filling the tub with water when something hit him in the back of the head. “Woman,” he turned to face her, suddenly realizing it was her shirt she'd thrown and she was now sitting on the vanity completely naked. “Fuck,” he rasped all blood flow in his body going straight to his dick. 
“I hope so,” She grinned,  crooking her finger and beckoning him to her. When he was close enough she fisted his shirt and pressed their mouths together in a heated kiss. Sy pressed against her, hooking her good leg over his hip and she felt him pulsing against her through his cargo pants. Tears brimmed in her eyes.
“Are you hurting?” He asked as he wiped a tear away with his thumb.
She shook her head , eyes locked with his while she tried to get her emotions under control enough to speak. Swallowing past the huge lump in her throat she pressed her hand to his bulge rubbing it and relishing in his sharp intake of air. “You still want me.”
“What? Of course I want you Deb. You're my life.” He didn't understand how that could even be a question but he could see the doubt in her eyes. “Debbie?”
“I just,” She didn't know how to express how she felt. Like she couldn't form the words much less say them. “I…”
“Talk to me darlin’, please.”
“Sy, the water,” She pointed to the nearly overflowing tub.
“Fuck!” he ran over and shut the water off just before it spilled over the edge of the tub. He laughed but drained enough of the water that she could get in without it pouring on the floor then went back to her. Cupping her face in his hands he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. “Please talk to me. Don't shut me out Deb. I know you remember the hell we both went through when I tried to hide my thoughts from you. I was lost in my own hell and putting you through it too. We promised to tell each other everything after that, remember?”
She knew exactly what he was talking about. When he was recovering from his POW time he felt like he was too much, not worth the work, or the love she had for him and he tried everything he could to make her leave him but she refused. It nearly broke them both. “i..I'm not the one for you. Not your soul mate anyway. You're settling for me because I'm safe and comfortable.”
Sy felt like someone punched a fist into his chest and was crushing his heart. “You're my world Debbie, my heart, my everything. I'm sorry if I haven't shown you what you mean to me. Please, give me a chance to….”
“Austin, no! It's not that at all. You treat me like a queen and I know that you love me!” She hugged him tight. “This isn't about anything you've done or not done. It's about me. It's about me not being enough. I mean family is everything to you and your mom hates me. I turned your dream ranch into an animal rescue because I needed to feel like I was doing something helpful. I just latched on to you and didn't even notice that you weren't settling down or or ,” he head was pounding.
“That I haven't given you a ring so you couldn't possibly be what makes me happy? Isn't that what Lindy told you that night at the restaurant?” When he watched her he'd dip down because she couldn't look at him he gritted his teeth. “I haven't given you the ring yet because I wanted to be sure I could be the man you deserve,  that I could overcome the PTSD enough to give you a life, sugar. It has everything to do with you but not how you're thinking. I was so afraid of not being good enough I didn't show you how much I can't live without you.”
She shook her head, “No. It's not your..”
“We both said that but clearly there is a problem, sugar because you are doubting us.”
“Doubting me,” She explained quietly.
Realization washed over him and it all became crystal clear. She'd been his rock for so long he'd forgotten how she was when they first met. The chip she had on her shoulder because she felt like she had to prove she was good enough, that she could be the best at everything. He took it as a woman having to prove herself in a man's military at first but the more he was around her he realized that she was afraid to let anyone close, trusted no one to even have her six. She lived like she herself was the only one in the world she could trust or depend on. It led to a lot of being reprimanded, write ups, push ups, pull ups, and finally a talking to that finally made her see thongs from Sy's point of view about having to trust her team or they were all in danger. That was when he really started trying to get to know her in earnest, when he eventually learned about her abuse and abandonment. She'd come so far and he'd been through so much that he didn't realize she needed reassurance he wasn't giving her. He was a fucking moron. 
She gasped when Sy grabbed her face and kissed her and didn't stop until her tense muscles finally relaxed against him and she was breathless. She didn't even register him removing the leg brace until he was lowering her into the hot water, careful to keep her bad leg resting on the side of the tub. She sighed contentedly as she leaned back. Sy chuckled, “Feel good?”
“So good!” 
They both jumped at the knock on the bathroom door. Sy stood and went to see who it was.
“Your sister is here,” Geralt told him. “She needs to talk to you.”
“I'll be right there,” he sighed. He went back to Deb. “You stay put. If you aren't in the same position you are now when I get back I'm going to spank you until you can't sit and when that ass starts to cool down and feel better then I'm going to do it all over again and again until I feel like you learned your lesson and if I get tired I'll let Gearlt and August takeover.”
She fully intended to protest but what came out of her was more of a strangled whimper. He cleared his throat to hide his chuckle.  “I'll be good, I promise.”
“I know you will, sugar.” 
Sy went to speak to his sister and Debbie soaked in her hot bath. She sat still for a bit but really wanted to wash. Chewing her lip she pondered if grabbing the soap would be against the rules. Stretching her arm out she reached the soap without moving her butt at all and took it as a victory. Lathering up her bath puff she started washing herself. Once she felt squeaky clean she grabbed her razor and started shaving … everywhere. After three weeks she resembled a sasquatch except the leg and arm (shoulder) they'd done surgery on. When that was done she settled for a few minutes but quickly got bored, she was all alone after all. “Oooo jets!” Pressing the button the jacuzzi jets bubbled to life and massaged her sore muscles only with her bad leg up at an awkward angle it exposed her to the full force of the jets causing her to jerk and gasp. The pain that shot though her leg was almost instantly replaced with need as she used her finger to further expose her clit to the jet. Using her other hand she slipped two fingers into her slit working them hard and fast chasing the pleasure she didn't realize she needed so badly. Turning her body a little toward the side of the tub the jet hit the perfect spot and even though she couldn't reach the spot inside due to her awkward positioning the jet was doing the trick. Her hips slowly started to flutter as she threw her head back and whimpered through her release moving her hand away from exposing her clit as the pulse of the jet became uncomfortable. She hadn't noticed Sy come back in or even approach until she felt his fingers pushing into her still quivering hole. “Fuck!” She squealed at the stretch and shock of it.
He lifted her ass up out of the water enough to latch his mouth onto her clit and switch between sucking and licking until he'd made her cum two more times, the last time screaming out his name with a series of loud moans.
Sy got her out of the tub and carried her straight to the bed. It was tall enough that he could just bend her over the edge, carefully resting her bad leg out to the side up on the bed leaving her open to his hungry gaze. “You ready for me sugar? Gonna take my dick like a good girl?”
“Please,” he begged, trying to rub her ass back against him. She gasped when his big hand smacked against her ass leaving a burning ache in its wake.
“Be still, your brace is still off. You're in trouble as it is, little girl.” He grinned when she went still, knowing she was thinking about the spanking he told her she'd get if she moved earlier. He took the distraction to push himself in up to the hilt causing them both to moan at the sensation. “So fuckin tight for me, like your made to fit my dick.”
All she could do was moan incoherently as he railed her from behind, each thrust causing her to gasp as he pounded against her cervix. It was painful but the pull out and push in up to that point was bliss. She was losing the battle of control over her body and clamped down on him as tight as she could, wanting to give him some of the pleasure he'd Given her.
“Son of a bitch,” he growled as she squeezed him so tight he thought his brain was coming out of his cock. Reaching under her he started rubbing her clit. “Cum for me. I want to feel you come apart when I fill you full of cum.” A few more circles to her bundle of nerves and she was rutting between his cock and fingers.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” She cried as she exploded around him and he emptied inside of her, the wet squelching sound of their combined releases echoing in the room as he collapsed breathlessly beside her.
Tag List
@shellyshellshell
@enchantedbytomandhenry
@mrsevans90
@summersong69
@mollymal
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@bloodyinspiredme
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eywascall · 9 months
Text
PULLED OVER
pairing: (officer) sully brothers x female!reader
warning: modern au, all characters are aged up, and not proofread
word count: 908
DNI/BYF
— taglist 💌: @kachowness, @mashiromochi, @yeosxxx, @thesheelfsworld, @fanboyluvr, @ryosukna, @person-120, @flowery-letters, @aonungs-tsahik, @danny-daylight, @aerangi, @lululemon1111, @minkyungseokie, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @goodiesinthecloset21, @philiasoul, @teyamsbitch, @talia-the-gemini, @neteyamforlife, @eskamybeloved, @theratprincessforever, @welcometomyshitshowlmao, @erenjaegerwifee, @azaleaniath, @laylasbunbunny, @ilovejakesullysdick, @jjkclub, @avatar4life, @crazyforteyam, @ratchetprime211, @hc-geralt-23, @starboyloak, @liluvtojineteyam
🕯️Author’s Note🕯️: This is for the amazing @andraga12!!! LOVE YOU SO MUCH GIRL!! I hope you enjoy reading this fic 😊💗
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Hours fly by breezily as you pour all your concentration onto your studies in the lab. You were so lost in time that one of your lab partners had to tell you how late it was. A little taken back, you decided it was about time to go back home. Your back was screaming in pain with the way the spine was cracking. You’ve been hunched over for who knows how long. A few blissful stretches later, you cleaned everything up to be used next time. Afterwards, you exhaustingly drag yourself to your lonely car within the enormous now empty garage.
Beep, beep, it sounded as you double clicked the unlock button. You need a minute. You sat in the car trying your best to muster whatever energy you have left. Then with the simple twist of your hand, the car’s engine shakes the car a bit. “Alright, let’s go home.” You breathe out as you pull out of the garage to start the painfully long drive home. Everything was going well, nothing far from how it usually is. But a horrible idea came to mind seeing how empty the highway is at this time of the night. Maybe you could just speed a little faster?
Your brain has lost all its power, so any second thoughts you would have typically thought of weren’t present yet. You added pressure bit by bit onto the excelerator with your foot. The car went a little fast the more you pressed on it. Your adrenaline was lumpy with anxiety and a strange form of joy. It felt weirdly thrilling as you continued this speed down the empty road. However not all good things last seeing how a cop car appeared out of nowhere.
“Pull over!!” The speaker from the cop car advised as you followed his instructions. “Great, just great.” You cursed yourself as both your hands clutch onto the steering wheel. Your head rests on top of your hands hoping you can lay off any trouble. A couple of knocks were made on your window as you pressed the button to pull it down. “Hello there, officer?” Obliviousness is key, hopefully the officer falls for it. “Ma’am do you know the speed limit for this road?” He asked calmly. “No, I’m sorry I don’t.” You continued on.
“Hmmm can you please step out of the car?” Chills ran down your spine praying to Eywa you won’t get arrested. Once you stepped out of your car, he made you do a breathalyzer to ensure that you weren’t drunk. Unsurprisingly it showed that you were clear. Even though you knew you weren’t drinking, you let out a sigh of relief. Now that you did this, you can’t help stare at the officer in front of you. He was tall, well built, and extremely handsome. Your eyes wander around till you see his name on his uniform. “Neteyam Sully?” You blurted out involuntarily.
He turned to look at you curiously. For some reason, this name sounded a little familiar. “Is there a reason why you’re speeding?” He asked. Buckets of sweat could be collected right now. “Well I was just getting off of work from the lab and— officer, did anyone tell you that you are really hot?” You might as well try to get yourself from paying a heavy fine. The question made him utterly take it back by the sudden compliment. “What?” He replied with a deep chuckle.
“Yeah, you know that right? I mean just look at you. Anyone looking like that, man you should be a model.” The compliments fly out of my mouth like a tsunami. Thankfully by the end of your ten minute conversation of dodging questions and spitting out compliments, Neteyam was amused. “Okay Ma’am. I’m thankful for all your compliments. But seeing this is your first time doing anything bad on record, Imma let you off the hook.” The internal joy you felt as you swear you hear angelic music somewhere. Holding back that smile was the hardest thing you’ve ever done.
With the clear, you try your best not to rush back to your car. The door slams closed as you see Neteyam still standing there. “By the way? If you aren’t available, do you have a brother that is?” It was meant to be a joke but door Eywa did have a lot of things in store for you. “He sure does.” Another voice could be heard as you see another officer standing next to Neteyam. He’s younger but similarly attractive. His smile flashes in the night as he grins at you. “I’m Lo’ak. His younger brother.” He tries to casually flirt. Neteyam could only roll his eyes, “Have a nice night Ma’am. And try not to speed again.” Neteyam said as you nodded before waving goodbye to the two of them.
Lo’ak had to watch disappointedly as your car drove further away. “Bro, I was trying to shoot my shot.” He complained, only for Neteyam to let out a joyful chuckle. “Yeah right, as if you can get a girl like Y/N.” Lo’ak was stunned. “You know her?” He watches as his older brother nods. “I don’t know if she remembers us but we all attended the same middle school. Ring a bell? That one girl we both had a crush on, Y/N L/N?” The realization made Lo’ak’s mind blown. “DAMMIT?! NOW I REALLY WISH I GOT HER NUMBER!!”
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catierambles · 5 months
Text
Feral Instincts Ch.21
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Pairing: The Rogue’s Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)
WC 2270
Warnings: Anxieties
After coordinating with Heather's Alpha Peter, Stephanie and he arranged for them to get together in the local state park on a Saturday around late morning, that way they could get the introductions out of the way before they started cooking for lunch. The day of the cookout was gorgeous, the sun bright and warm, the air slightly cool but too much where there was a chill. Geralt had needed to go out of town a couple days prior, borrowing Sy's truck, but said he would be back the day of, and would meet them at the park.
August and Walter went in August's black SUV, while Sy, Stephanie, and Mike piled into Walter's dark four door pickup truck, Sy's grill and a couple coolers filled with food and drinks secured in the back. The others were already there, including her pack from the apartment buildings, when they pulled into the park and August helped Sy unload everything as Stephanie, Walter, and Mike went over to them, Stephanie seeing Heather standing with an older man that honestly reminded her of Tom Selleck circa Magnum PI.
"Hey, you!" Heather said, giving her a wide smile as she saw her and they shared a hug. "Oof, haven't seen you since before you were infected. Shit, were we wrong about you being a Beta."
"Heather, this is Walter Marshall, one the Alphas I told you about, the former cop." Stephanie said and Peter extended a hand.
"Nice to meet you." Peter said and Walter shook it briefly.
"You as well." He said and Peter turned his attention to her.
"That was rude, sorry. Shaking his hand before yours." He said, "Peter Danzig, pleasure to meet you."
"You too, nice to put a face to a voice." Stephanie said, shaking his hand with a smile, not failing to notice how Walter's arm looped around her waist and he tugged her closer slightly. She just gave him a look and he pulled an apologetic face. "This is my Beta, Mike Syverson." She looped her arm in his, laying her head on his shoulder.
"Hey." Mike said, moving his head at him in greeting.
"There were four Alphas, right?" Heather asked and Stephanie nodded.
"August and Sy are getting things unloaded but should be---there they are." She said, smiling as they joined them. "This is Markus Syverson, we all call him Sy--"
"Howdy."
"And August--"
"Walker." Peter finished, his pleasant expression faltering slightly.
"Do you two…know each other?" Stephanie asked, picking up on the sudden tension.
"Not that I'm aware of." August said, giving Peter a steady look.
"Your reputation precedes." He said and August made an understanding sound, nodding slightly.
"Well, don't worry, I'm not here on business." He said and Stephanie looked back and forth between them with an arched brow. "I'll explain later, sweetheart."
"That's three," Heather said, "Where's the fourth?"
"Oh, Geralt had to go out of town, but he's meeting us here." She said.
"Geralt…Rivian?" Peter asked and she nodded, "You have August Walker and Geralt Rivian in your pack?"
"Another preceding reputation?" Stephanie asked and Peter nodded. "I know he's a Tracker for the Pack Council and hunts down Ferals, but I don't--"
"I'll explain later." August said again, his gaze not leaving Peter.
“August.” She said but he didn’t look at her, “Blink.” That made him look at her and he gave her a soft smile, pulling her in and pressing his lips to her forehead. “And, I don’t know, bond over your mutual mustachness, or something.” Mike and Sy gave a snort, August giving her a look that she returned. “Now, if that’s all, I need to be tackled by a bunch of kids.” She pulled away from them, heading over to where the families were sitting, opening her arms wide. “Kiddos!” There was a high pitched chorus of her name and she was suddenly surrounded by children of varying ages. She made sure to greet each of them in turn with a hug, picking up two of the smallest and settling them on each hip as she went to greet the parents. August, Sy, and Walter watched all of this with a fond smile and Mike cleared his throat.
“It ain’t happening, remember?” He reminded them.
“We know, Mikey.” Sy said but they didn’t take their eyes from her.
“Steph had a sterilization procedure done a few years before she was infected.” Walter explained, catching Peter’s confused look. “She can no longer have children.”
“A female Alpha that can’t have kids?” Peter asked, “No offense, but then why are you all with her?” They looked at him in unison, their stares hardening.
“Offense not meant, but offense taken.” Sy said, “We’re with Steph because we love Steph, she’s our Mate. Would it be nice to have pups with her? Yeah, it would, but it’s her body and her choice. Female Alphas ain’t baby makin’ machines, good for nothin’ else.”
“Ignore him,” Heather said, rolling her eyes, “He grew up in a traditional wolf family and is kind of old fashioned, makes him a bit of a dick sometimes.” Mike snorted at that, rolling his eyes and breaking away from the group. Going over to Stephanie, he dodged children to press a kiss to her cheek, making her look up at him with a smile.
Despite the rough start, the day went on a bit better, the two packs mingling and friendships forming. A game of touch football was proposed that made Sy light up, Mike telling her that he had been the captain of their high school's football team and had played during college while he was going through ROTC for the Army.
"Did you ever play, babe?" Sy asked.
"Football?" Stephanie asked, and shook her head. "I played sports in high school and college, but not that."
"Let me guess," Sy said with a smirk, "Softball."
"Rugby." She said with an unamused tone and Walter snorted into his soda can. "A bit like football, only we hit harder and don't wear protection. Went through almost an entire match once with a broken nose. Caught an elbow early on."
"Is that why you have that scar on the bridge of your nose?" Walter asked and she nodded.
"Got it set at the hospital once the match was over." She said, "Didn't let it stop me from playing the next match, though."
"You're so cool!" Mike said with a defeated tone and she snorted, pulling him in by his shirt and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
"You guys go have fun, I'll be cheering from the sidelines." She said and they each gave her a kiss in turn, heading off to where the others were gathering. August wasn't participating, as he really wasn't wearing the right footwear for it, so he stayed off to the sides with Stephanie. Despite the cool air, they still worked up a sweat as they played and soon the shirts were shed and she would admit to watching them just a little more intently as they played. Sy and Walter were bulky with muscle, but still agile as they moved around the field. Mike had more of a runner or swimmers build, slender but still defined and he was almost fluid as he dodged the opposing team.
She wasn't the only one who noticed them, however, and she caught a few other women watching them just as intently. They were a couple Betas and Omegas from Peter's pack, and they were pretty, conventionally so. She couldn't hear what they were saying amongst themselves as they were too far away, but with the giggles and the looks, she could hazard a guess. Patting August's low back, she moved away from him, skirting the edges of their makeshift field and heading over to a cooler to get something to drink. It just happened to have been located by them, but far enough away to where they wouldn't notice her there.
"Damn, those Alphas from that mountain pack look good."
"The Beta isn't hard on the eyes either."
"Didn't they come here with a female Alpha?"
"Yeah, but it's probably nothing. Did you see her? Oof." Their laughter was catty.
"I heard she was their Mate."
"Yeah, and I also heard that she can't even breed, so they're wasting their time if she is."
"Think we should take a shot?"
"Probably wouldn't be difficult." She moved away after that, heading back to August with her bottle of water.
"You okay?" He asked, picking up on her soured mood.
"Yeah, I'm fine." She said, giving him a small, well trained smile. The game ended and she watched as they headed over to the coolers, the women approaching them. Again, she couldn't hear what they were saying, but she got the feeling the flush to Mike's cheeks wasn't just from the physical exertion. An Omega reached out, touching Sy's tattoo gently and the small smile he gave her twisted her heart. She wasn’t jealous. She wasn’t. She was…preparing herself. "Hey, can I have your keys?"
"Of course." August said, not looking up from his phone as he dug in his pocket, handing her the fob. "Are you okay?"
"Need some quiet. Getting a little people'd out." She said and walked away from him, heading for his SUV. The doors unlocked as she touched the back door handle and she pulled it open, crawling into the backseat and closing the door. Sounds were instantly muffled as she laid against the leather.
"Did you see her? Oof."
"She can't even breed. They're wasting their time."
"Wouldn't be difficult."
Tears stung at her eyes and she blinked them away. She wouldn't blame them if they went elsewhere. She couldn't give them kids, even if she wanted to, and besides, she wasn't exclusive to one of them, why would they be exclusive to her? Wouldn't be fair.
The nagging doubts built in her head again and she curled in on herself. They wouldn't be with her if she wasn't a wolf, she was sure of it now. Mike said he would be, but she was already infected when they met, so how accurate was that?
Mike sputtered a little on his drink, his eyes wide.
"Are you okay?" The female Beta he had been talking to asked, but he ignored her, looking around for Stephanie but not seeing her. He moved away at a quick jog, heading towards August on the other side of the field.
"Where's Steph?" He asked when he got to him.
"In my truck, why?" He asked.
"Is she okay?"
"Just needed some quiet." August said and caught the look on his face. "What's going on?"
"I can't feel her anymore." He said and took off, running across the park towards the cars. Going up to August's truck, he didn't see her in the passenger seat so he pulled up the back door, his eyes immediately going to her curled up on the bench seat. "Sweetcheeks." He crawled into the car with her, wrapping her in his arms and maneuvering them so she was half laying on him.
"You deserve better than me." She sobbed and his heart broke just a little bit more, "All of you. Someone stable, someone undamaged. Someone who can give you what you want. I can't, Mike, I can't give you those things."
"Babe." He said, his arms tightening around her. Anger built as did his sorrow, but not at her, at the Feral who messed with her head and hurt her, who was still hurting her.
"Hey, Geralt just sent me a text." Sy said, coming up to the truck, "He's about five minutes--what happened."
"I can't feel her, Sy." Mike said, his eyes closed tight. "She's not there anymore."
“Doll?” Sy asked, reaching out and touching her. “Baby, come on back to us.”
“What’s--” August stopped when he saw them, “This again? I thought we were past this.”
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Walker.” Sy said, turning on him. “She’s goin’ through a goddamn war in her head right now, she don’t need you throwin’ a grenade.” He just sighed, his hand coming down on the doorframe and she flinched.
“Did you just flinch?” August asked and Sy pushed him away with a snarl.
“Walk away.” He said and August looked like he was about to say something but Sy cut him off, “Now.” He watched him walk away before giving them his attention again. “How many Omegas we got in the pack?”
“None she’s close with.” Mike said, sliding his hand into her hair and pressing his lips to her forehead, needing to physically feel her as there was a yawning void where she should have been. There was the sound of tires on gravel, a peace settling over her heart making her sigh.
“Geralt’s here.” Sy said, but she already knew that.
“You want to greet him, babe?” Mike asked and she nodded. There was more maneuvering and they slid out from the SUV, Stephanie still sniffling, running her fingers through her hair to try to tame it some.
“Hey.” Sy said, “We got--holy shit.” She looked up, seeing Geralt standing there but he wasn’t alone.
“Sy…” Mike said, his eyes going wide.
“Yeah.” Sy said, going over to their guest slowly. He was young, maybe around sixteen, with pale skin and short, shaggy black hair. They stared at each other for a moment before Sy pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly, the young man returning his embrace and she saw his shoulders shake.
“Mike?” Stephanie asked.
“It’s our baby brother, Steph.” Mike said, “It’s Albert.”
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ilikebigants · 1 year
Text
I don't really care for modern AU'S but I have noticed that ppl forget that Witchers are also really good for finding people- not just killing shit.
Imagine Detective Geralt deciding ACAB and for a fee finding missing ppl that the cops didn't want to investigate the dissapearance of like sex workers or elves.
185 notes · View notes
sillyrabbit81 · 2 years
Text
The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood
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Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.
A reverse harem, biker AU.
Part One Summary: After her parents death, Lori is back at the club she grew up in and finds herself being sent away with an attractive but completely unknown biker.
Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC
Word Count: Approx. 3.3k
Warnings:
Series Warnings:
Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.
Part One Warnings:
Mention of death, drug use, violence, body fluids, slight angst, blink and you'll miss it implication of smut.
Authors Note: I've been working on this story for about nine months, maybe more? I keep thinking I'm going to forget about it, but it keeps worming its way back into my brain and the only way to purge it is to write it and post it, so I woke up this morning and decided fuck it, post it.
I have a heap of people to thank for discussing the story with me and for beta reading. Because it's been such a long process, if I have forgotten you, I sincerely apologise. So thanks a million to @amberangel112 @henryobsessed @littlefreya @nashibirne
I hope you enjoy it!
Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors.
Masterlist
Parts Masterlist
Part Two
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Lori
When I noticed the gathering started winding down and some of the out of state clubs began to leave, I was able to breathe a little easier for the first time in two weeks.
Although I thought it unlikely that the uneasy truce of a wake would be disturbed by anything more than a punch up, I still worried about it and the subsequent attention of the media and the cops. I had hopes that my face wouldn't be plastered all over the news, but it seemed a little unlikely given the scrutiny that the funeral had been under. I was under no illusions that my brother would escape unscathed.
Thinking of my brother made me glance at Nate. 
I sighed; It was a good thing the media weren’t here now, and the cops were too chicken shit to try and breach the walls of the compound.
With a rolled-up $50 note up his nose and two women hanging off him, Nate was the epitome of the biker stereotype. His dirty blonde hair hung to his shoulders, his face was hardened and scarred, making him seem older than his thirty years, as did the tattooed cursive on his forehead just beneath his hairline. 
Nate took his hit, throwing his head back and wiping at his nose. He grinned as he sniffed and handed the note to one of the girls. I could hear his snort across the room and above the thrumming beat of the dance music; his nostrils must be fucked. 
From what I knew, he’d been like this for days, and although normally he tried to hide the extent of his drug habit from me, the fact he was openly high and allowing one of the girls to rub his crotch showed how far gone he was.
I’d like to think his behaviour was a one off, that it was his way of dealing with Mum and Dad's death. But I doubted it.
So much had changed since I last spent any time at the clubhouse to the point where it was almost unrecognisable. The common room used to be homey despite being in an industrial building; carpeted with soft sofas, plush rugs and sturdy wooden coffee tables. Now it was like a nightclub, complete with stripper poles, black and red leather sofas, smoky glass topped tables, and neon lights.
I hated it.
Crossing my legs, I started to get angry. I used to love coming here when Dad was President, seeing all my uncles and their families. Even memories of the sweets and sodas the guys used to sneak me behind my mother’s back wasn’t enough to calm my mood. Thoughts of the last few times I was here were too vivid. Seeing what my father and brother had become and the way my uncles had stopped seeing me as a little girl made me stop coming here about five years ago. It was also about the time Mum had finally decided to divorce Dad.
I’d had enough, seen enough. Nate didn’t even appear to be on planet earth anymore; he won’t notice if I slip out. I’ll just go home, have a long bath, maybe call Jake and invite him over.
As stealthily as I could, I got my bag and nearly made it to the small cut out of the closed roller door when a Prospect laid a hand roughly on my wrist. His fingers dug into my skin painfully and he pulled my arm with a short jerk, bringing me closer, until my body bumped into his.
“Hooks wants a word,” he said, all smug and grinning as if this idiot knew what Nate would want with me. 
I didn’t know him, but I knew a million like him, and he thinks he knows me. He thinks I’m just another girl, one of the desperate groupies who hang around hoping to tame a wild biker or use them for drugs or clout. He obviously didn’t know Nate was my brother, or he’d never lay a hand on me.
Looking down at my wrist, I smirked before raising my eyes, letting as much of my anger seep through as I dared. I may have been out of the life for years, but I still knew how to play the game.
“I suggest you remove your hand, Prospect before…”
I didn’t get to finish my warning as a fist smashed into the boy’s face. His nose made a sickening crunch followed by a crimson spray of blood which splattered on the floor barely missing my heels.
The fist belonged to Hustle who was grinning like a Cheshire cat at the chance to expel some pent up aggression. He was Nate’s Sergeant at Arms, his enforcer, and my father’s before that. He loved a bit of a fight, but he wasn’t crazy, his violence was usually held on a tight leash.
“Fuck off, pup,” he growled. His eyes danced, obviously not 100% sober, but it was alcohol rather than drugs that Hustle preferred.
The Prospect held his nose and his tongue, but the fiery hatred that burned in his eyes couldn’t be hidden.
“Hooks wants her,” he managed to say, spitting blood onto the concrete floor.
“I’ll take her to her brother,” Hustle said, amused at the way the Prospect's face went white and his eyes widened. Hustle chuckled as the Prospect mumbled apologies to me and scampered away.
“Think he’ll make it?” I asked Hustle when he turned back to me. 
Hustle shrugged, it wasn’t really his decision to make but being a senior member of the club, his opinion had weight. 
“Takes a punch like a champ, that’s a good sign.” Then he smiled at me, “You alright, Babycakes?”
I mirrored his smile, I couldn’t help it; until two weeks ago no one had called me Babycakes in years. I had almost forgotten the nickname until I was suddenly and violently thrust back into this world. 
The name had been bestowed on me when I was a kid. I had complained bitterly that everyone else I knew had a cool nickname and I wanted one too. I can’t remember who first called me that, it was probably Hustle himself. He was one of the few guys in the club I still trusted, he never made a pass at me as I grew into a woman, and that had meant a lot to me at the time. It still did.
“Yeah, I’m good. What does Nate want?”
“Dunno,” Hustle lied smoothly.
I rolled my eyes at him, and he shrugged again. He’d defend me against anyone, but his loyalty was to the club before anything and anyone else, including me. 
“C’mon,” he said, putting a soft hand on my upper back and guiding me gently but firmly to my father’s old office.
The room was one thing that Nate hadn’t changed in the years since he’d slowly taken over Dad’s empire. The office was still clad in rich wood panelling, painted blood red, with black accents. Various memorabilia filled the room including a large fresco of the club’s Colours which drew the eye to the wall behind my father’s dark timbre desk. I remember when Dad commissioned it, he had been so proud to show it off.
Nate was standing near the desk, talking to another biker I’d never met before. I didn’t remember seeing him at the funeral, but there were a lot of out of towners there. 
He was good looking enough, with close cropped hair, a scruffy dark brown beard and bright blue eyes that seemed intelligent but still had that familiar aura of danger that I used to think all men possessed. Physically broad and well built, he didn’t strike me as a guy who indulged in vices the way Nate and most of his club did. He seemed fit, if a little soft around the edges; he had the body of a strong man rather than a bodybuilder. His thick arms were visible below the sleeves of his black t-shirt, revealing black and grey tattoos of engines, flames, smoke and skulls. Memento Mori was written in cursive across his throat, though it was partially hidden by his beard. My Brother’s Keeper was etched along one forearm and Never Alone across the other, both in the same elaborate script and gaudy silver and gold rings encircled nearly all his fingers. He would make an imposing figure to anyone who hadn’t grown up with men like him.
His jacket was hanging on the back of one of the chairs in front of my father’s desk. I couldn’t place the colours, except of course for the 1% patch. He had to be from out of state, I knew all the clubs in Nevada, but I had never heard of The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood and the large wolf’s head howling at the moon was too recognisable for me to have forgotten a patch like that.
Out of Town nodded towards me as I entered the room. I thought I saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes; maybe he had been at the funeral after all. He seemed polite and business-like on the surface, but his eyes studied me intently, lingering briefly on my breasts. 
To be fair though, his gaze was practically that of a gentleman’s in this world so I let it slide and nodded back to him before lazily flopping on one of the leather sofas, hoping my casualness would hide my apprehension.
“What do you want, Nate?” I asked, hoping I sounded terse rather than worried.
“I need to talk to you about some things,” he said, sounding surprisingly level-headed considering the copious amounts of drugs he’s been taking. The words ‘functional addict’ crossed my mind. 
“I’ve been here all day, hell, I’ve been around for nearly two weeks. You’ve had all that time to talk to me, now I’m tired and I want to go home. Can’t we talk about it tomorrow?”
“The contact only just got finalised,” he explained.
“A contract?” I shook my head. “No. You know I don’t want to know anything about—”
“This contract is about you,” Nate interrupted.
I blinked and looked from Nate to Out of Town to Hustle and back to Nate. “Excuse me?”
“For your protection,” Nate added.
“I’m not in the life, I don’t—”
“Neither was your mum, Babycakes,” Hustle said softly.
I felt a sudden chill at Hustle’s words. I could believe that in my brother’s drug-addled state he was being overprotective, or plain paranoid, but Hustle wasn’t prone to exaggeration. 
Hustle had loved Mum and not in a way that was disrespectful. He seemed to admire her, respecting her fidelity and steadfastness. There weren’t a lot of women like Mum in the circle’s Hustle ran in. Most women wanted to play the bad boy game, they liked the danger of a biker, the excitement of an untameable man. Love was rarely long term, and Hustle knew that as well as anyone after three failed marriages. 
It wasn’t just the women who didn’t stick around, most of the men couldn’t keep their cocks in their pants. Even Dad had been known to screw around on occasion while he was still married to Mum. It was the life and it was another reason I avoided it.
“You said she was collateral damage, you said she wasn’t a target,” I said to Hustle, unable to keep the accusation of dishonesty from my tone.
“New information has come to light,” Nate responded and I turned my ire towards him with a glower. He raised a finger at me and continued, “Specific threats against all our families. Most of the guys have already moved their women and kids out of state, and since I don’t have a woman or kids, the threat is on the last of my family. You.”
I knew where this was going now. The past two weeks had been intense and not just because of my parents death. Everywhere I went I needed permission from Nate and if he did let me leave, it was with Hustle or one of the other senior club members. I thought it was because of the cops or media attention. 
“Fuck.” I dropped my head into my hands. 
It’s not the first time I’ve had to leave the state. Hell, once a few years ago, Mum and I had to go to Canada and stay with a friendly club up there for three months. Anger boiled in me, I thought I was out, free from this shit. I should have known better, no one ever truly leaves the life. 
“How long?” I asked.
“Until the threat is eliminated,” Nate said matter of factly. I could have smacked him.
“Fucking hell!”
“I’m sorry, Lori.” 
I looked up at Nate. He never apologised and although it seemed genuine, it didn’t diminish my anger. He obviously felt guilty about something and I wondered how much to blame he was for what was going on; how badly he had fucked up? However, the appearance of regret in Nate’s eyes was fleeting, and he became cold and business-like again. 
“This is Syverson,” Nate pointed to Out of Towner, “His club specialises in protection. You’ll be going with him to their clubhouse just outside of Dallas and waiting it out with them.”
“Texas? Across half the fucking country? Come on, Nate, really? I thought you meant New Mexico or California.”
“It’s where I live,” Syverson finally spoke up. 
His voice surprised me. He was a southerner and his drawl was subtle but it was there, and his tone was soothingly deep. 
“We take long term protection cases back to the clubhouse. It’s secure and well fortified and more guys to share the load,” Syverson smiled at me. I suppose he meant for it to be reassuring, but it came across as patronising.
“You’ll leave tonight,” Nate said. “All the clubs leaving is good cover; no one will notice another biker and his old lady heading out.”
“Wait, we’re going on his bike? To Dallas? That’ll take a week!” My thighs and hips groaned at the prospect. That’s a long time on a bike and I haven’t ridden that far in years.
“Three days, if we make some headway tonight,” Syverson said and like a mind reader he added, “We’ll stop plenty to stretch your legs, sugar.” 
I raised my eyebrows at ‘sugar’, but Nate didn’t blink. Hustle gave him some side-eye that Syverson caught but ignored. That was interesting. Despite never hearing of him before, for Hustle to let it go meant this guy, or his club, or both, had some serious clout.
Looking at the three men I could see no way out of this; my shoulders slumped and I gave up. My parents were dead, my brother was a criminal and a drug addict, and I was being pulled back into a world I thought I had left behind. I wanted to cry, but I knew I couldn’t show any sign of weakness, so I stayed angry instead. I figured it would be better to give in and go with Syverson and try to worm my way home later. I knew Nate well enough that if I tried to fight him he wouldn’t be above handcuffing me to Syverson and basically allowing him to kidnap me.
I looked again at Syverson. He stared back at me, not trying to stare me down like a lot of bikers do, but as if he were trying to show me he had nothing to hide. His eyes didn’t waver as they held mine, no sign of shifty glances, no sign that he wasn’t who he appeared to be. He was either trustworthy or an extremely good actor. Not even my brother could look at me like that.
“I’ll have to go home, pack and change,” I said, waving a hand over my black dress. There was no way I could get on a bike in my tight pencil skirt and maintain any dignity. “You’ll let me do that, right?”
Nate grinned and nodded. “Hustle will drive you home in the van, Syverson will follow, get you packed and then you’ll leave tonight.”
Gritting my teeth I dipped my head to Nate. He returned the gesture and I saw again the brief look of guilt in his eyes. I glanced at Hustle, but he was already walking out the door.
I followed Hustle and Syverson through the clubhouse and got into the van, barely registering what was going on. I had too many thoughts in my mind and I was already mentally making a list of what to pack. I knew I’d have to pack light, bikes weren’t exactly ideal for hauling luggage.
I clenched my fists in frustration as Hustle drove out of the compound. Three days on a bike, plus God only knows how long I was supposed to be at the clubhouse. There was no way I’d have enough space for all the clothes and other things I would normally take like books, my laptop and my hair straightener.
I sighed heavily and looked out the window. It was already dark and I was a little hungry, but my anger and nervousness masked most of the pangs I felt in my belly.
“It's going to be okay, Babycakes,” Hustle said, confidently “The Club’s been through shit like this before and we’ve come good.”
“Back when you had Dad,” I pointed out, “He always had a cool head for situations like this.”
“Hook’s is up to it.”
“Yeah? Think he’ll lay off the coke long enough to think rationally? It was probably something dumb he did to get the Club in the shit in the first place.”
“Babycakes,” Hustle said with a warning tone in his voice.
“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me he didn’t fuck with the wrong guy or get too greedy. Tell me exactly why I’m being shipped off?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“Of course not. I’m just a fucking mushroom y’all keep in the dark and feed me shit.”
Hustle chuckled and I stared daggers at him, crossing my arms and raising my eyebrows.
“You’re cute when you get angry, Babycakes.”
“Fuck you,” I growled, but my lips twitched and I had to suppress a grin, Hustle was just too damn likeable.
I stared out the window again and saw in the side mirror that a single headlight was following us. It must be my ride.
“What do you know about him?” I tilted my head towards Syverson riding behind us. “Do you know anything about him?”
“Supposedly ex-military, but that's just a rumour. They're all supposedly ex-something, but…” Hustle shrugged.
“No one knows?”
Hustle shook his head.
“Do you know anything about the club, The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood? I’ve never heard of them.”
“Not much, except that they’re small, selective and secretive. They’ve got a good reputation, powerful despite their size, specialising in protection and a few other things.”
I nodded slowly. It didn’t make sense to me that a small nonaffiliated club from halfway across the country would take me in. Always before when I was sent away, it had been to a branch of my fathers club, or one they were heavily associated with. It must be costing Nate a fortune for the club to work with him.
“It’s bad isn’t it, Hustle?” I asked softly, feeling a small spike of fear working its way into my gut.
“Just do what they tell you to and you'll be fine, Babycakes.” Hustle laid a gentle hand on my knee and gave me a fatherly pat before putting his hand back on the wheel. “They’ll take good care of you. They’re to be trusted.”
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698 notes · View notes
kayforpay · 7 months
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I hope everyone to writes AUs where geralt is a cop has a terrible day
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thedemonofcat · 3 months
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Modern Mafia au:
The rookie cop, puzzled by the department's focus on a lone missing person case, learns that the disappeared individual is Jaskier Pankratz, a musician romantically linked to Geralt Rivia, the city's formidable mob boss
Geralt's unwavering protectiveness over Jaskier serves as an unspoken assurance for the city's safety.
However, with Jaskier missing, the very foundation of that assurance is shaken, and the threat looms that Geralt might unleash chaos upon the city in his relentless pursuit to find him.
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tired-fandom-ndn · 1 year
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Characters who would never ever be cops but are written as cops in modern AUs:
Geralt of Rivia
Edward Elric
Roy Mustang
Edward Teach
Izzy Hands
Aragorn
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limerental · 5 months
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ficletvember 2023 - day 8
iorveth/roche weird criminals modern au of reason of state or something
Though an elite team of unsavory characters has agreed to work together with the hopes of assassinating the shady CEO of Redanian Industries, that doesn't mean they have to like each other.
content warning for canon-typical violence and a mostly non-explicit blowjob
The intercom crackled.
"Shit, pack it in, lads, our man's long gone."
A moment later, the staccato hum of the helicopter rising from the roof of the factory confirmed the announcement. Radovid had fucking gotten away again.
With their mission failed, animosity predictably reignited among the ragtag crew of would-be assassins. 
"I fuckin' had him. One damn floor away. If you'd kept those heavies off me on that platform–"
"Ah, my mistake, Vernon. I had assumed you preferred your skull attached to your head. You were too close together to take a–”
“Thought you used to be a better fuckin' shot than that. You losin’ your touch? Your eyes goin’ bad, Iorveth? Can you see this?”
A distant middle finger, blurred through the lens of a scope.
“Permission to shoot him, boss?”
“Sorry, denied,” grumbled Dijkstra’s voice through the intercom. “Unfortunately, we need the unpleasant little bastard. Quit bitching and get out of there. All of you.”
There came a chorus of affirmatives from the crew. Geralt, already in the lobby. Isengrim, packing up in the building opposite. Philippa, disappearing easily into the crowded streets.
“Triss,” called Roche. “Law enforcement?”
“Thirty minutes out,” said Triss, her soft voice warped by the distance. Her van was somewhere down on the streets, parked in a discrete location. “I scrambled their comms but–”
“No rush then.”
“Fuckin’ hell–”
"Roche, don't."
“Damn it, someone make sure he doesn’t kill–”
Roche’s intercom clicked off. 
For a few moments, having clicked off his own noisy comms, Iorveth trailed the barrel of his rifle after the figure scurrying across the roof in the unearthly blur of his night vision scope. He considered how much trouble he’d be in if he took a shot after all. Just a few warning shots whizzing near his ankles. Couldn't hurt.
He leaned away with a sigh and rolled his stiff neck and shoulders, beginning to pack away his rifle. A dozen flights of stairs separated this floor from the lower roof below, but the elevator was already pinging.
Iorveth amused himself imagining Roche jogging in place in the little box as it rose.
All that furious energy wasted just for a chance to hit him once or twice before they had to flee as the building was inevitably surrounded.
The door whooshed open just as he clicked the last latch shut on his packed equipment, and the man descended on him, all but vibrating with rage.
Iorveth deflected a punch with his forearm and jabbed with his own hit that Roche twisted easily away from. There was no real sense in hand to hand fighting like this, both of them too well-matched and too familiar. Each strike inspired a fluid counterstrike. They circled the empty room, locked in a stalemate.
There’d been a time when Iorveth would have played dirtier, unafraid to knock the man’s head against a nearby surface in a move that could split his skull in two. Similarly, Roche did not pull the gun from its holster on his thigh and let loose the way he may once have.
Things had been simpler when Roche was special ops and Iorveth part of a now defunct terrorist organization. For now, they were on the same team, and it wouldn’t do to maim or dismember one another before fulfilling their goal. 
After Radovid was dead, no holds barred.
Time ticked by. This building would be buzzing with cops before long.
Roche managed to pin Iorveth with a rough shove against the long span of windows, the city lights glowing on his furrowed brow. 
When their mouths met, the crush of their bodies together was no less furious.
Roche tugged at his braided hair, and Iorveth bit his lip hard. When hands fumbled at his belt, tugging, Iorveth caught them.
“No time for that,” he said. They’d have enough trouble escaping the building as it was. Iorveth could imagine the panicked demands and warnings buzzing from their silenced comms.
Unfortunately, the bastard couldn't resist a challenge. 
“There’s time,” Roche grunted and went hard to his knees. 
Sirens echoed in the distance. Iorveth shoved back the slouch of Roche's beanie to run his palms along his buzzed scalp.
"Hurry up," he said, even the hot pleasure of the mouth stretched around his cock not enough to dull his awareness of how close they were cutting it.
Roche pulled back a moment, breathing in sharp pants.
"You're usually more of a hairpin trigger," he grumbled.
"Maybe you're boring me."
"Fuck you."
The renewed focus and intensity brought him to the edge and over in a few quick breaths, and the warm twitch of his belly had barely waned before Roche was on his feet and had him by the collar.
Roche grunted as his back hit the wall, Iorveth punching the flash of the button to call the elevator even as he sucked a red mark onto the man's stubble-rough throat. When the door pinged and slid open, they fell inside with Iorveth's thigh crooked between Roche's legs. Roche gripped the bar along the wall and rutted up against him as the elevator hummed to life and plunged.
Iorveth watched dark eyelashes flutter as his mouth dropped open, almost pretty.
Later, sprawled out across the dark sheets of their shared high-rise apartment, he'd like to take his time and really watch the way this man's expression lost its stubborn tension momentarily at the cusp of his pleasure. 
The fluorescent lights flickered into the red glow of shutdown just as they crashed into a lobby swarmed with policemen. 
They'd have been wholly fucked had Geralt not appeared suddenly to beckon them down a side corridor. A full-tilt sprint took them through a maintenance hallway and out the other side of the building to crouch together behind a dumpster, listening for the roar of Triss' getaway van. 
"Bastard just had to get a fuckin' punch in," grunted Iorveth as he leaned, breathing hard, against the slump of Roche's shoulder.
"Sure," said Geralt as he eyed Iorveth's undone belt. "We'll go with that."
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kristmkris · 5 months
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Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle. Geralt: Shit. Jaskier: Wait, three? Cop: Yeah? Yen: OH MY GOD LAMBERT FELL OFF!!!
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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 8 months
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Cinema
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Masterlist
Series Masterlist
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Pairing: barista!Mike (Hellraiser) x reader (you)
Summary: Mike takes you to see a terrible horror movie...
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: Fluff. More fluff. Then some more fluff. Shenanigans. A makeout sesh... A cop. We're definitely still cockblocking Mikey. I'm still not apologizing for that...
If you like this fic, please let me know 🥰 and reblog so that others may see it too! <3
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@deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss @geralts-yenn @ylva-syverson
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Mike has taken you to what absolutely has to be the worst horror movie of all time. At least, that’s what the reviews said when you looked up the plot online beforehand. You don’t like horror, and this one is no different, yet you are here. All that proves, if you really think about it (which you don’t), is how much you really like Mike.
As you are waiting in line to get into the cinema, you can already tell that pretty much everyone – all forty or so people – is here for the same reason. Because the one thing these sucky horror movies are good for, is a good, old-fashioned, socially sanctioned make out sesh in the dark. You hate how perfect these dumb films are for it, and you especially hate that they genuinely scare you…
“I’ve never been here before,” you say as your eyes wander the foyer of the building. It’s a relatively new theater, but not so new that not having been here isn’t a scathing indictment of your nonexistent dating life.
“Really? I’ve been here a ton of times,” Mike says casually. It takes a few beats for him to realize what he’s said. “Eh… with friends…”
“Eh… on dates,” you correct him, and watch his ears go a little red from embarrassment.
“Well, they threw all these terrible scary movies at me the last year and a half… what was I supposed to do? Go see them alone?” he fake-complains.
“Oh, you went to see them, huh?” you tease. “What were they about, Mike?”
“Eh… People getting killed?” The girl in front of you just snorts outright, and one of the guys behind you does a half decent job at hiding his laughter in a suspicious cough. You follow the example of the girl.
“Mike, you idiot,” you blurt out. The look on his face is absolutely priceless; he looks mortified, and it somehow looks good on him. So good, even, that you grab the front of his jacket with both hands and pull him closer. When he looks at you, the expression of terror morphs into a smirk.
Finally, it’s time to find your seats. You follow Mike through the just a tad too dimly lit room. He somehow managed to get seats all the way in the back. They always sell out the quickest because… well… less people can watch you stick your tongue down your date’s throat there. Which is a nice thought, even though everyone who’s here is paired off and planning on doing approximately exactly the same – meaning no one will actually be watching you. Oh well. Mike also bought you popcorn, so he can stay, despite his outrageously obvious moves.
“This one,” Mike says as he sinks down on what should have been two seats, but isn’t.
“You know they have normal seats,” you say as you look around the room.
“Sweetcheeks, why are you making it sound like you don’t want to be near me?”
You sit down, putting as much distance between you and Mike as the small loveseat will allow. “I don’t know?” Because you don’t want him to think you’re easy? “This is a little transparent and… I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” What is wrong with you?
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“Hey, are you here with Mike?” Oh god no… Some girl approaches you as you’re washing your hands, giving you a pitiful look when you nod. “Have you met his cats yet? Poor you.” She and another girl – looks like a friend of hers, you’re guessing they’re on a double date – laugh, and it almost sounds evil.
“Actually, I have,” you answer. “They’re adorable. And Mike is great.”
“They sleep in his bed. It’s weird,” the girl throws back at you, her voice absolutely dripping with contempt. You have to get out of here before you punch this bitch, but she stops you as you make a beeline for the door. “Hey! I’m just trying to help. He’s a weirdo.”
“He’s a vet,” you yell, “they tend to like animals. And it’s not weird. It’s sweet. Now get out of my way, I’m on a date.” You roll your eyes and push little miss spoilsport out of the way, leaving her there with a hideous grimace of disbelief on her pointy face. Okay, maybe she doesn’t look that bad, but you’ve had it with that cunt.
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“Hey,” Mike says nervously when you come back to your seat.
“Hey,” you snap, still not over what just happened in the bathroom. When you look at Mike, there’s concern on his face.
“What’s wrong, Sweetcheeks?” he asks, his voice trembling ever so slightly.
“Have I ever told you you’re a great guy, and that I really like spending time with you?” you quietly blurt out as you sit down – close to him, this time. So close, in fact, that you’re almost in his lap.
“Eh, no you haven’t, thanks? Where is this coming from?” He looks a little flustered, clearly not expecting your compliment, or you sitting so close to him. You can’t blame him. Minutes ago, you were halfway through tearing him a new one for being a little obvious about wanting to make out with you.
“Some horrible troll-” You emphasize the word and speak up a little as aforementioned horrible troll passes by your seat – yes, you’re being petty, and yes, you’re going to keep being petty. “-attacked me in the bathroom calling you weird, and I need you to know that you’re not. And I really like being here with you, and I don’t actually care that you’re not being more subtle about this. I kind of like this. It’s cozy.”
“We don’t have to do anything, I just thought… you told me you get scared and I want to be able to hold you if you do,” he whispers, a little uneasy – and cleverly omitting the ‘easier to make out this way’ portion of his transparent plan, so you raise an eyebrow at him to coax the rest of the truth from him. “Baby, we’ve been cockblocked by cats, caught by my parents in their room and I was put on house arrest for three weeks… I just want you close. We can always just watch the movie.”
When he says that last bit, you laugh. “Then you really should have picked a better movie.”
You eat your popcorn during the commercials and the first five minutes of the movie. It’s plenty of time to determine the whole thing is absolute crap – and that the world probably could have done without yet another Hellraiser movie. In fact, you’re starting to regret not spending these five minutes making out with Mike. Luckily, with the way Mike kisses, he makes up for those five minutes within seconds.
Another lucky thing would be the fact that Mike still clearly realizes that you are, in fact, in a public place, which means he isn’t as handsy as he was last time… The last thing you need is to get caught somewhere on your way to half naked in a movie theater, that would be… bad. Let’s leave it at that. Now, that doesn’t mean Mike isn’t all over you in any way he can get away with – of course he is, and you want him to, but man, it makes you wish you were at his place right now, and his cats would leave you the fuck alone, and the turtles wouldn’t be slurping up all attention, and his parents wouldn’t walk in on you.
You stay snuggled up to Mike for the duration of the movie, and even though the few snippets you’ve seen are so horrible you can’t even describe it, you’re sad when it’s over. Hand in hand, you leave the cinema, walking towards his car just about as slowly as you can manage.
“I don’t want this date to end,” you confess as you finally get to the car. His parents are home tonight, he already mentioned that, and so is your roommate. Mike says nothing, and with slightly heated cheeks you get into the car.
“Doesn’t have to be over,” he mumbles when he’s also seated and the doors are closed. You look at him, shock apparent on your face, and shake your head by means of a question. Mike makes a vague gesture around him. Does he mean…? He can’t be serious!
“In your car?” you blurt out in disbelief. Absolutely the fuck not!
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“God, you’re hot.” So, you caved. Who cares? You’re young, and you’re finally alone, and it’s Mike’s hands sliding up your sides, underneath your blouse and his hands feel good, and there’s no cats to sit on anyone’s head, or… You’re not even overly worried about a serial killer showing up – which is a very normal fear for you after having watched a horror movie, but your little movie date with Mike involved so little actual watching that you’re not scared now.
“Babe?” Mike takes a short break from feeling you up to check if you’re okay, although he never actually takes his lips off your neck. Is ‘pulling on the hem of his shirt until he finally takes it off’ and answer to his question? Apparently. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him into another kiss. You used to think his enthusiasm was a little bit childish, but you have to admit; these weeks have taken their toll on you, too. At this point, you’re almost just as bad as he is, clawing at his back, impatiently dragging his mouth back to yours.
He's surprisingly strong, and not-so-surprisingly good at maneuvering you around in the backseat of this car. Ten bucks says it’s not the first – or second, or third – time he’s done this… Mike pulls you into lap, and the sigh that you let out as you straddle his thighs morphs into a chuckle.
“You’re happy,” you tease as soon as you feel his erection rub against you.
“Cats, parents, grounded,” he mumbles while kissing down your neck, towards your chest. With a few swift moves, he opens enough of your blouse to be able to reach your boobs.
“How on earth did you… That was fast!” you exclaim, staring at your now mostly naked chest in disbelief.
“I stick needles in squirming hamsters on occasion. Can’t do that without at least a little dexterity,” Mike deadpans. If there’s a good response to that out there, you sure as hell don’t know what it is.
You bite your lip and hold down a chuckle when Mike’s hands find their way into the back pockets of your jeans, squeezing your ass through the fabric and pulling you closer against him. When you roll your hips, he moans – the sound is music to your ears. There’s something about teasing this guy that’s… fun and easy but at the same time insanely satisfying. The way he squirms underneath you, the way he gets impatient and sloppy – well, sloppier… You’ve never felt like someone wanted you this much – and not just because he wants to see your tits, perhaps?
Somehow, Mike manages to get you onto your back in the backseat. It’s a less practical position, but it works – kinda – and that’s good enough for you. For all your talk about Mike being eager and impatient, this whole waiting thing is definitely also starting to take its toll on you.
Soon, it’s your hands in his back pockets – as soon as you’re done mapping every muscle in his back, that is. He grinds his hips into you. You’re wet, you’re ready; you need him. Slowly, one of your hands moves to the front of his jeans, struggles with the button for a moment, then…
Three raps on the window, Mike pulling away from you, buttoning his jeans, while you hastily try to button your blouse again. Before you can make yourself completely decent, another knock, and Mike rolling down the window.
“Officer,” he sighs, “good evening.”
“Michael.” The cop knows him by name? That’s not a good thing… Especially considering the fact that Mike turns around to you with a horrified look on his face.
“I swear he only knows my name because mom and I take care of the dogs!” Sounds plausible.
“Go home, kids,” the officer warns you both before walking away.
Mike kisses you again before reaching down to pick his shirt up off the floor.
“Sorry,” he says softly. “I know it was a horrible idea, I just…”
“You want to have sex with me,” you reply. He seems taken aback by your directness, but after a short while, he shakes his head, much to your surprise.
“I mean…” He sighs deeply. “Please don’t think that’s all there is to it. I really like you.”
“You’re just a little impatient,” you tease. He rolls his eyes before crawling back into the front seat, then he helps you get back in the passenger seat.
“C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”
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eywascall · 9 months
Text
TRAFFIC STOP
pairing: (officer) sully brothers x female!reader
warning: modern au, all characters are aged up, and not proofread
word count: 401
DNI/BYF
— taglist 💌: @kachowness, @mashiromochi, @yeosxxx, @thesheelfsworld, @fanboyluvr, @ryosukna, @person-120, @flowery-letters, @aonungs-tsahik, @hey-ricciardo, @aerangi, @lululemon1111, @minkyungseokie, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @goodiesinthecloset21, @philiasoul, @teyamsbitch, @talia-the-gemini, @neteyamforlife, @eskamybeloved, @theratprincessforever, @welcometomyshitshowlmao, @erenjaegerwifee, @azaleaniath, @laylasbunbunny, @ilovejakesullysdick, @jjkclub, @avatar4life, @crazyforteyam, @ratchetprime211, @hc-geralt-23, @starboyloak, @liluvtojineteyam, @awow-2
PART 1
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Nothing but silence accompanied you as you made the exhausting drive home. Your body was ready to hit the bed though you forced yourself to stay focused behind the wheel. As you made a turn to your right with the signal and everything, a cop car drove right behind you. To your horror, their lights and sirens were turned on. “Great, what now?” You asked yourself worryingly. You pulled the car to the side of the road awaiting what possible you have gotten yourself into. But as soon as you saw his familiar face, things eased up for you. Neteyam lightly knocks on the glass of the driver side, you unsurprisingly rolled down your window. “Can I see your license and registration, Ma’am?” He asked politely with a devilish smirk.
“Hello to you too, Officer Sully.” You spoke back. “You're getting off from work again?” He asked curiously as he casually rested one of his arms on the top of your door. “How’d you know?” You pretended to play dumb. “Just an educated guess.” He said half heartedly. You couldn’t help looking back at his cop car wondrously. “Your brother with you?” Your voice showed your curiosity as you heard his walky talky go off. “He sure is!” Lo’ak’s voice boomed from the device as he got out of the car. “How are you doin, Mama?” He flirts.
“Tired but other than that I’m fine.” You responded. Lo’ak raises a brow, “Say, mind if we treat you out sometime?” You were fairly surprised but you had to take it into consideration. “Only if you’re paying.” It was meant to be a joke but his response was serious. “Of course, how can I possibly let a pretty lady pay?” He spoke confidently. “This Thursday? Hmm? Whatdya say?” You answered with that beautiful smile of yours, “Why the hell not?”
“Oh crap I almost forgot—” The difference in his behavior from before is a bit startling. He suddenly became shy out of nowhere. “C-Can I get your number?” He’s even blushing, how cute. You take a hold of his phone as you enter your number in. Oh the glory he felt of being able to save your number into his contact. “Now am I free to go Officer Sullies?” Both brothers gave you a gleeful smile, “Have a nice night, Ma’am.” They waved you goodbye as they await their hangout day with you.
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