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genderlessdude92 · 10 hours

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PRECIOUS

SMALL LIL’ ANGST—>FLUFF FIC

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PAIRINGS: Alastor x Reader

SUMMARY: You and Alastor get into a fight because you’re just worried he got hurt after a fight with Vox. He snaps at you and…well, you isolate yourself. whoopsies!

WARNINGS: Emotional abuse, Toxic relationship dynamics (but they both love each other dw), Intense emotional distress, Language, Potential Triggers, Donestic conflict. (MAJOR FLUFF AT THE END THOUGH!!! ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP!!!) They were a couple alive too if you don’t mind idk i suck at writing- USAGE OF Y/N I ALMOST FORGOT AHHH- Lmk if i missed anything :3

NOTICE: please don't steal/copy/translate my work. But thanks for liking it, though!! ^^

WORDS: 1.7k

Enjoy!!~

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“Alastor, are you serious?!” You yelled as Alastor started to walk away from you, mid conversation.

Alastor had just gotten into a big fight with Vox, luckily survived, though. The frustrating part is, he won’t even let you heal him. Or know what the battle was even about?!

Which made you really, really paranoid.

“Alastor, don’t walk away from me, that’s rude.” You caught up with him and began to match his pace and he walked to the halls of the hotel to lucifer knows where. “We need to talk about this.” You say firmly. “I’m going to find out one way or another.” You add, raising your voice slightly.

Alastor stopped walking and turned around to face you. He was looking down at you, which always made you feel so small. Even if he wasn’t actually looking at you, you could still feel it.

“Well, then.” His voice was calm, but a hint of annoyance was there. “Aren’t you just invested in my little public hiccup.”He crossed his arms, waiting for your response.

“Yes I am. And I think we should talk about it, instead of you getting defensive.” You looked him dead in the eye and kept talking. “And why you didn’t tell me.” Your voice went quieter again.

Alastor hid a chuckle, “I thought you would care more about me surviving, than knowing how many lives I took today.” He raised his eyebrow, mocking you. “Or maybe, I don’t want to share this kind of information with someone who will judge me for it.” He was now fully annoyed by you.

You stepped closer to him, trying to keep him from leaving again. “Alastor, please stop. I’m just trying to help. I don’t…” You trailed off nervously. “I don’t want us fighting.”

Alastor smirked at you, “Oh, don’t worry love. We aren’t fighting. Yet.” His tone was harsh and he leaned down to look you in the eyes. “But I will if you continue to harass me about this.”

You felt yourself start to panic, but tried your best to hide it. “I’m sorry Alastor, I just…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, as he interrupted you.

“No. Don’t ‘just’ anything. You know I hate that word.” He said with a cold smile. “Now leave me alone before I get upset with you.”

“…You know,” You began, standing in your place as Alastor walked away, “You should at least act like you care about my opinion, maybe act like a husband, as well.” You snapped back, but in a more calm, collected tone. (minus the shakiness in your voice.)

“That’s rich coming from you.” Alastor snapped back, turning around to face you again. “What did I ever do to deserve such a self-righteous wife?” He raised his voice a bit, but not enough for others to hear. “How dare you assume things about me without even asking. How dare you come here and make demands of me. How dare you try to control me.” He continued yelling, walking towards you. “You have no right to tell me what to do! I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“I’m not trying to control you. I’m just saying, maybe you could at least consider what I have to say sometimes…” You tried to say bravely, but failed at the end. You felt so small. So insignificant.

You felt like nothing.

Alastor was now right in front of you, towering above you. His height and stature were intimidating, but his voice was worse. It was rough and demanding, making you feel like you weren’t worth anything. “You are nothing, nothing compared to me.” He sneered. “I don’t give a damn about what you think. What you say. What you do. You’re just a pathetic little sinner who has no idea what real power feels like. You’re not worthy of my time. You’re not worthy of my attention. You’re not worthy of my love.” He spat out the last word like it tasted sour in his mouth.

His words were cutting through your heart, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

You dashed away to the nearest staircase, needing to get to your office. Your only safe space.

***

It has been about a week now since the fight you and Alastor had.

It had also been a week since you came out of your office.

You didn’t really leave your office because, one, it had a fridge of food and other things. Two, you had a makeshift bed with the couch. And three, why would you even go out there?

Only problem is, you’ve cried everyday, and that made you feel like complete imp-shit.

You really wanted to see Alastor, but you knew it wouldn’t end well.

You also didn’t want to be around anyone else, either.

***

Alastor was a gentleman to all women who deserved so.

An example he would give you is Rosie. He’s a gentleman to her because she’s nice to him and has manners. She deserves it.

But, if he was near Velvette, he would call her cruel names and shred all her ‘designer masterpieces’.

But, now he was confused.

What happened with Y/N?

He had never fought like that with her before no, usually she would be next to him in bed right now.

He was starting to miss her.

…he needed to give her an apology.

But he knew he wasn’t good with words.

So, he brainstormed.

“I could probably give her a heart…” He thought, stepping out of bed and pondering for a moment, “…no, no….maybe…some flowers?…” he looked over to his bayou. “…Allergies.”

He slumped onto his armchair and looked around his room for any ideas at all.

“…maybe some candy? No.” He thought, “She doesn’t eat much sweets.”

He sat there for a while longer, thinking.

Then it hit him.

***

You heard footsteps outside your door, and immediately froze. You looked around your room for any escape route, and found none. You decided to sit back down on your couch, and began to wait for whoever was there to leave.

The footsteps stopped outside your door, and a knock sounded out. “Y/N, open the door.” Alastor’s voice was stern and commanding. “I know you’re in there.” He added.

You opened the door slowly, and peeked out to see who it was.

“Hello, darling.” Alastor said with a warm smile. “Can I come in?”

You just stared at him, saying nothing

‘fuck’, he thought, ‘i caused this.”

“Y/N, I just want to apologize.” He finally said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was wrong.”

“…you don’t mean that.” You replied, still not moving.

“I do mean it, darling. Please jsut…let me in.” Alastor said sincerely, taking a step forward.

You hesitated for a moment, then moved aside to let him in. He closed the door behind him and stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure of what to do or say next.

Then, your eyes wandered to the large picture album he was holding to his side.

“Alastor…what’s that?” You asked, taking a step back cautiously.

“…it’s our picture album.” He looked at you, remaining calm. “…from…when we were alive. You know, with all those crappy photos.” He smiled softly.

You looked up at him, “…I’m scared.”

Alastor knew exactly why, as well.

He sighed, “I promise…I will keep myself contained if i ever, ever lash out like that… ever again.” He claimed, tears building up in his eyes.

“What i said back there was not true at all. You are everything to me, you are worth so much, and most of all, I love you.” He dropped the book to the floor and held out his arms to hug you.

You didn’t move, “…I don’t want to be here…” You said, letting a tear fall.

He nodded, “That’s okay, dear, let’s go to our room, okay?” He reassured, picking the book back up and holding you tight to his waist as the shadows consumed you both, talking you to his room.

***

You and Alastor missed this.

Limbs tangled together in bed, holding each other close, breathing in each other’s scents, you wish you had this sooner.

Alastor flipped a page of the album, “Oh look,” He noticed, pointing his claws to the first picture in the album, “It’s our cat, oh, what was his name again?” He asked, looking at you.

You were still crying.

He took a deep breath, “Y/n,” he exhaled, “It’s okay, dear…please don’t think about it.”

You looked at him, “w-what?” you said, wiping your cheek.

He ran a claw through your hair, “Nothing.” He said, smiling softly.

You put your head on his shoulder, “Okay,” you mumbled into his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying his scent.

He stroked your hair, “Do you remember our wedding day?” He asked.

You shook your head, “…no, I don’t…it was too long ago…” you said, sniffling.

He kissed the top of your head, “That’s alright, sweetheart, we have plenty of time to talk about it.” He assured you, pulling you closer to him.

You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. You felt safe in his arms. Safe and loved.

Alastor flipped the pages until he found the wedding pictures, “Oh, here we are. Look, see how my mother walked you through the aisle?” He rubbed the picture with his thumb, rethinking back the memory.

“…yeah…I remember now…” You snuggled closer into him, trying to control your ragged breathing.

“…just breathe daring.” He reminded you, “Look here, you see how much you’ve changed?” He laughed softly, flipping another page, “See here? Here you are at our anniversary dinner, you wore that beautiful dress that made your legs look amazing.” He blushed lightly, “I remember you told me I was the only one allowed to see it.”

You giggled, “…that was a joke, silly.” You said, opening your eyes and smiling up at him.

“Ah, yes, I know.” He smiled back,

“…You’re so precious to me, y’know that?” He said, leaning down and kissing your forehead.

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NOTES: Idk what i was thinking when i made this fic erm…! Idk I’ve been going thru some shit rn but I’ve gotta impress the community because the notes/likes/comments/reblogs on my posts aren’t doing to good rn!! Oh no!!! (that is a sign from my greedy ass) And i just started a multi-chapter fic so like idk why i’m typing this- support is appreciated. BAI!!![![![11!

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MASTERLIST LINK

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

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rimunagenius · 1 day

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Good Game

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Cheerleader!reader

ʚ word count: 1.3k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , otherwise none.

ʚ request: anon ask; “are you down to make a kate martin x cheerleader reader?”

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: here’s another request! i love that you guys are sending requests, and i’m glad that i’m the one you’re choosing to ask to write them! thank you so much for liking what i write, truly unbelievable. Also, I’m making my way through my inbox so from now on, my fics will most likely be request, so feel free to drop some more, but also, please be patient as i continue to do so! enjoy!

"Good job, Martin!" You yelled at you waved your pom poms infront of you, engaging in your cheer, but looking to the side as the Iowa women's basketball team ran down the tunnel for half time.

You gave her the biggest smile, getting one in return. "Thank you!" She grabbed a cup of water and ran down the tunnel following her teammates.

Usually that's how all of your interactions went. A 'good job' or 'you're doing great' here and there. Kate was your favorite on the team. She was tall, pretty, kind, and really damn good at playing ball. What's there not to like about her? You always mentioned her to your cheer friends; they evolved to trying to start up conversations with Kate and bring you into it.

It helped that one of your bestfriends was on the basketball team, too. You and Kylie met on your first day at Iowa University. You two have been inseparable since then.

So every game, you'd get to just a little bit early, hitching a ride with Kylie, and she knew full well why you did it. There was the off chance that you'd talk to Kate. They normally had shoot around, and the cheer team would get there just a half hour later to start warm ups and make sure the music was working.

You valued your time before every home game. That's why Kylie made sure to make you bump into Kate on your way into the big game tonight.

"Hey, Kate!" Kylie shouted to the blonde ahead. She turned around, her long blonde hair twisting as she turned to look at you and Kylie.

"Hey! Oh, Hi!" Kate greeted her teammate, and then greeting you, with a side hug. She was much taller this close than from the sideline to baseline view. Your knees were weak.

"Hey! You excited for tonight?" You beamed, you were also excited for tonight. The big Iowa vs. UConn game for the final four spot.

"Yeah, super. Your cheering tonight?" Kate knew the answer, she just didn't know what to say because you made her nervous. You could tell by the way her cheeks reddened immediately after asking.

"Yeah, I am. That's why I came with Kylie." You turned to point to your friend, only to find she left. You look up ahead and see her walking with Sydney down the hall towards the lockerroom. "Oh, nice." You whispered as you turned back to Kate.

Your cheeks turning pink just by the sheer height difference. "Nice, you're gonna cheer for me right? Your favorite on the team obviously." She bumped your shoulder, making you laugh.

"I will cheer for you, but only out of obligation. Y'know, I didn't get a full ride for nothing." Your sarcasm eliciting a small giggle from the tall blonde.

"Haha, very funny." Kate looked ahead, catching Kylie peak her head out of the lockerroom doorway, immediately blushing harder.

"Kylie's actually my favorite, but i'll make an acception for the cute golden retriever." You smiled up at Kate, tossing a small strand of hair up playfully, her smile widening some more.

"Yay, the cute cheerleader loves me." She bumped your shoulder again, both of you walking into the lockerroom like big grinning idiots. Kylie definitely texts you after you walk out with your headphones she had in her bag, asking how it went.

You walked onto the court, a couple of your teammates here already, smiling at your phone while you told Kylie what happened. You then didn't fail to talk about it all the way until the girls started warms ups. You didn't want to get caught talking about a minor interaction between your literal crush.

"Wait, stop. I think Kate likes you, babe." Your teammate literally stopped you dead in your tracks. You didn't know if you heard that correctly. You hoped you did.

"No, stop it. No she doesn't." You looked over, and sure enough Kate had been looking at you. You both gave eachother a small smile before resuming to your respective duties.

"Girl, she's been looking over here every thirty seconds. Of course she likes you." You smiled softly, thanking the cheer gods that your uniform looked so good on you. Seriously, you were glad you were confident enough to strike up a conversation. She was so pretty you didn't think you'd be able to do it.

"Okay, stop telling me that or that's all i'll think about all night, and I don't want to forget our cheers. Especially the half time performance." You sighed as you walked off the court, to do stationary stretches, while the girls used the full court to do warm up drills.

Now it was your turn to stare. You watched her as she moved in sync with her team. Fully enamored by the way she moved, communicated, and played with her team.

During the game, was no different. You’d watch her play, literally just watched her. Something about her was just so intriguing. You couldn’t look away.

She’d look to you, smile and continue to play her game. She would try and hide the smile when she heard you scream ‘let’s go 20’ and hasn’t stopped thinking about it. She thought about it all the way through the second half, and completely into half time.

She wished she could watch the halftime performance, wanting to watch you do your thing, in that pretty uniform, the skirt that fit you perfectly. You two had seemed to be totally enamored with eachother it was driving you both nuts.

After the game, the team went into the tunnel, for the normal post game talk. You were nervous to sit in, Coach Bluder allowing you to sit and listen since Kylie was your ride and you were just minding your own business. The lockerroom was fairly big, you finding a spot infront of a locker, scrolling through tiktok with your headphones on. You hadn’t known the huddle was over until someone was approaching you.

Looking up, you met the perfect blue eyes yet again. You looked up and saw you were sitting at her locker. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll just—“ You started talking and got up when she had already reached for her towel on the top shelf. Your bodies were pressed against eachother, eyes looking into the others, your breath mixing together.

“Oh..uh. Sorry!” Kate said, sidestepping to let you pass. Both your cheeks were red and demeanor suddenly timid and bashful. The things you two did to eachother.

You neeed her number.

She needed your number.

You then stood by Kylie’s locker, waiting for her to finish up, her opting to shower at her home, and then before walking out, you turned around and walked up to Kate. You didn’t know if it was the confidence of Iowa winning the game, the adrenaline running super high. But either way, you were doing it.

It was now or never. You liked her, and wanted to talk to her longer than short conversations before and after games. Getting closer, you tapped her on her shoulder. Her eyes wide, a soft puppy look on her face, god your knees were weak. “Hey!” She smiled as she put her basketball shoes in her bag, sliding her feet into her slides.

“Hey! So, you can totally say no, but I wanted to know if I could get your number?” You smiled nervously at the blonde, her smile growing wider.

“Yeah, of course. Here.” She handed you her phone, letting you type in your number, sending a quick text so you could save her number in your phone. Feeling your phone vibrate, you thank her and handed her her phone back.

Her now standing infront of you, you decided to kiss her cheek. Her face immediately turning a light shade of red. She rubbed the back of her neck softly, before looking down at her feet and then back up to you.

“Good game tonight, Martin.” You turned heel, and walked out the door leaving her absolutely stunned. She could not wait to text you tonight.

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subskz · 1 day

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Hey! New anon here, I was wondering if you could write a quick smut on making sub ot8 skz squirt? Dom!fem reader is preferred please<3

(I LOVE YOUR WORK!)

hihi, welcome! ^_^ i’ve actually written fics abt this for chan, lino, and felix which you can read here!! i also just finished writing one for binnie, it’ll be up soon 🙏 i might eventually write abt the rest of the boys squirting but for now here’s a quick thought abt hyune since i have an idea for him~

and thank you so much, i’m happy you enjoy it! <3

i can see hyune being interested in trying gauze stimulation (where you soak gauze in lube/lotion and rub it along his glans to create a pleasurable friction) he’s a little bit of a masochist and his body is super reactive, so he’d be curious to know what it feels like to have the rough material dragging along a spot as sensitive as the head of his dick. and as exepcted he’s insanely weak for it. the moment you drape the cloth over his tip and start rolling it with your palm he’s gasping so loud, throwing his hand over his mouth and trying not to shrink away from the new sensation bc it feels so good—too good, he can’t take more than a little bit at a time. it gets harder for him to control his body the more the stimulation builds up and before you know it, he’s writhing in the sheets, trying to escape from the gauze and rut into it at the same time. he’d go extra crazy if you spread out the fabric as thin as possible and pulled it back and forth directly over his tip. the pleasure is so intense it aches, the contrast of the rough fibers and slick lube creates the perfect amount of discomfort and relief to make him absolutely dizzy

we all know how vocal hyune is so you’d be in for a show of loud, filthy moan after moan that he can’t even think to be embarrassed abt in the moment. he just throws his head back against the pillows and lets himself get swallowed up by the feeling. when he’s close, his moans get more and more broken until he’s whimpering with every drag of ur hand, maybe even tearing up bc he’s so overwhelmed and the pleasure just keeps coming. all he can manage to get out is “please, please, please” but poor hyune doesn’t even know whether he’s begging you to let him cum or begging you to slow down so he’ll last longer. in the back of his hazy mind he registers that the coil tightening in his abdomen feels a lot stronger than usual, and he tries to warn you that something’s coming, but it just comes out as another slurred whine when he’s this breathless and disoriented with a mouth full of drool. his hips stutter into the gauze and he cums hard, so hard that the fluid spurts through the material and completely drenches it with his release

you can see his stomach muscles clenching in a wild rhythm, and the sob he lets out makes your spine tingle, so high-pitched and shaky like borderline scream because he’s never felt something so intense before. it’s a super passionate reaction even by hyune’s standards. he’s way too dazed to realize what’s happened at first, he lies there panting beautifully in a wreck of what he thinks is just his own sweat and cum in the bunched up sheets, but as you pull the soaked gauze off his dick you realize that was not a normal orgasm. he flinches when he feels a few drops dribble down his hypersensitive cock and thighs, and when he blinks his dreamy eyes open he sees you holding up the dripping cloth to show him the mess he made. he gives a full-body shudder when you squeeze out the gauze and splatter his release all over his chest and stomach like your own personal canvas <3

poor baby would be a little to exhausted to even feel ashamed abt what he just did in the moment, but once he comes back to his senses he’s a humiliated mess. you can’t bring it up around him for days afterwards bc he’d immediately go beet red and put his head in his hands with a cute, mortified groan until you stop teasing him. but make no mistake he loved every bit of it, just remembering the instance gets heat pooling in his abdomen. he would become a little obsessed with trying to squirt again afterwards, it makes his heart flutter like nothing else to know that you can have that effect on his body and make him cum in ways he didn’t even know he was capable of. he falls deep into subspace when it happens and there’s always such a cute disconnect in how filthy he gets for you vs. how shy is abt it later

#ask #💌 hyunie

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tinyidle · 1 day

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anything you want - psh

made especially for @whatudowhennooneseesyou's birthday. happy birthday again, sorry i made it so late, and i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it! also, I hope you enjoyed watching coachella this weekend!

warning: smut, fluff, cunniligus, slight teasing, cumming in pants oop, implied aftercare, mommy!hwa, softdom!seonghwa, servicedom seongwa, fem!reader, fiance!reader, sub reader, all fiction

"happy birthday, my star," seonghwa greeted you with a kiss to your cheek. it was actually nighttime, but with your and his schedule being hectic during the day, this was the first time he was able to physically wish you a proper birthday.

he did everything a good boyfriend should and more: he took you out to eat at your favorite spot, you both had a fun dancing session at the nearby club (nothing too crazy), and let you pick out what you wanted when you went out shopping later.

nine o'clock and he wanted to wrap up the day by letting you have him in any way you please. "anything i want, mommy?" you bit your lip with intrigue and slight hopefulness that he wasn't lying.

"anything, sweetie," he assured you. he laid you down and slowly took off the rest of the pieces of clothing you had. you both have been home for a bit, so you took off the heavier material, but your spaghetti strap top and undies were still on.

kissing your collarbone all across, he slowly pushed each strap down until the top of your chest was exposed. "fuck, you always look so pretty. so precious to me." he pulled down the top so that it was bunch to the middle of your stomach, him not bothering to pull it up or push it down any further.

reaching up to hold on to your boobs, he gently squeezed each one before continuing to speak. "tell mommy what you want, and i'll give it to you." seonghwa lightly trailed his hands on your sides, smiling when he saw you contemplate what you wanted your fiancé to do to you.

biting your lip, you whispered, "i want mommy touch my cunt."

"hmm?" seonghwa feigned naivety, kissing down to your inner thigh. "i cant hear you, sweetie."

your breath heaved more and more until you couldn't take the teasing to your pelvis anymore. "PLEASE MOMMY," you whined, much to seonghwa's enjoyment as he was now licking the skin of your folds, occasionally each one. "please touch my pussy."

he smiled once more before spreading your lips apart. "of course," he whispered, giving your clit a good suck. you gasped and unconsciously attempted to close your legs, them being forced open by your caring fiancé. "that's it. lose yourself for me, im all yours."

you bucked your hips in his face while seonghwa let you use him for your pleasure. one orgasm became two, and your legs were now constantly shaking as you begged him not to stop. sure, his jaw was now starting to ache, but his precious star wanted to be pleased like this, so he was going to give her what she deserved.

the final dam for your broke as you came once again on your fiancé's face. "ohh, hwa!" you cried out as you body stiffened and back arched. seonghwa groaned as he felt himself release in his pants from your own pleasure.

as you relaxed from your high, seonghwa quietly got up and went to get wipes, a warm cloth, and your pajamas for you. your eyelids were heavy, but you still managed to make grabby hands for your fiancé's touch.

with a small chuckle, seonghwa leaned down and gave you a loving peck. "happy birthday, my precious star."

i had three options for the drabble, and since i did a yunho fic already and plan on doing a hongjoong fic, as well as me never have done a mommy!hwa fic before, i wanted to do this so much. tagging @strayteezsimp

#ateez smut #seonghwa smut #moot moot

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jazzyblusnowflake · 2 days

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Ooo, question just came to mind. How did the whole polycule come to be? I know you said they get together after everything and after N and Uzi are already dating, but how did they agree to the whole thing? Because I can imagine Uzi feeling quite conflicted about V's flirting and wanting to check in with N about the whole thing.

This was kinda a question I had for myself as well since I'm writing a fic with Nuziv in mind but I wanted to see how your version goes down, since the one I have planned has radically different timing.

to be fair you ask "how did they agree to the whole thing" when they hardly thought about anything at all 😭

V simply decided one day that if she was gonna be dealing with Uzi every day she might as well make it more enjoyable for herself too- the teasing and jabs became less and less coated in malice and they started to joke around more and even agree on things [never a good sign in Ns honest opinion 😭] and after a while it turned into playfights and joke flirting and then just flat out flirting.

this process didnt just happen with Uzi, it also went along with N. just a bit differently i guess, just like how i showed you in the previous snippet on N and V arguing lol. N started feeling jealous but not because of V STEALING Uzi or anything, V just silently challenges him to one up her all the time and they kinda got stuck in this loop of who could make Uzi more pleased.

after a while, im guessing maybe in a cuddle pile after N and Uzi forced V into, they all just kinda sorta thought like "wow, well shit. i really cant live without them..." and they unofficially decided they are all together. it didnt have a name for a long time until they were actually ready to be closer and admit they liked eachother romantically. but that was more of a thing to be said to set boundries and make it official. otherwise as far as flirting goes, they had been doing it subconciously for a long time lololololol-

#snowballflo #snow rambles #murder drones #nuzi #vuzi #envy #envuzi #nuziv #biscuitbites #violetviolence #violentbitingbiscuits #goldenmemories #murder drones envy #uzi doorman #serial designation n #serial designation v

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 2 days

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The Question of Debt

Hi! I've read a few Merlin fics recently where Arthur finds out that Merlin hasn't been paid what he should, if at all, 'cause no-one ever trained him or told him anything about his job. I'd love to see your take on this if you want to write it? With lots of Merlin & knights friendship too. Thank yooou <3 – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: merthur

Word Count: 4232

Look, alright, Arthur does try to give Merlin the benefit of the doubt, but when he walks into his room to see him immediately stand up straight, hide something behind his back, and that something is jingling, what exactly is he supposed to do? Well, if Merlin is to be believed, state his business and leave Merlin to his. But when a pouch of coin leads to a confrontation that reaches far beyond their normal spats, Arthur starts to uncover something very troubling about Merlin's time in Camelot.

Well, if Merlin is to be believed, state his business and leave Merlin to his.

”Oh, and you’re King of Camelot now?”

“No.”

“Then what makes you think you can give me orders?”

”That wasn’t an order. It was a suggestion. One you asked for, by the way.”

“Merlin.”

Merlin just grins that stupid little grin that makes the tips of his ears stick out a bit more and Arthur is not being distracted by it, thank you very much. “Did you need something?”

“You’re late. Am I supposed to dress myself?”

”You’d be amazed what most young children are capable of, sire, most of them can actually dress themselves by the time they’re four or five.”

“Merlin!”

“Look, I’m just saying that it’s not a bother if we need to go over it again—“

Arthur picks up a pillow and smacks Merlin on the arm, which makes him laugh, yes, but more importantly it makes him let go of the coin purse he’s holding behind his back. It hits the floor with a clunk. They both look at it. Merlin scrabbles over the bed but Arthur’s faster and snatches it up.

“Hey! Give that back!”

He fends Merlin off with one hand, peeking inside. It’s hardly anything, really. “What is this, your tavern fund?”

“Give it back.”

”Is there something you’re saving up for? A pretty new tunic, perhaps, or one of those reck scarves you’re always wearing?”

“Arthur—“

“Or is this what you’re doing with—“

Whatever he was going to say is knocked out of him when Merlin slams into his side, hard enough to send him stumbling into the wall. His mouth opens in a wordless yell, righting himself and preparing to chew Merlin out because that could’ve hurt, you idiot, what were you thinking—

—and stops when he sees Merlin glaring at him.

Not the play-scowling they do when they’re bantering back and forth, but actually glowering at him like he’s made him angry. It’s enough to throw him off long enough for Merlin to shove the pouch into his pocket and storm past him, mumbling something about how they’re late for things already. He’s left there, staring at the painfully thin mattress with the moth-eaten blankets.

That was…strange.

He gives himself a shake. Merlin got like that about things sometimes, it’s probably not anything to worry about.

***

It’s definitely something to worry about.

Merlin’s never so much as breathed a word about what happened in his room that morning, which is concerning in and of itself. Merlin never hesitates to throw their previous arguments back in Arthur’s face if he thinks it’s deserved—and Arthur will be gracious and humble enough to say it is, most of the time—but he won’t even mention it. He doesn’t bring it up even if Arthur gives him the opportunity, he won’t even acknowledge what happened. And every time Arthur tries to talk about coin, or Merlin’s family, or anything that could be even remotely related, Merlin clams up faster than Gwaine when they say there’s no more ale left.

So, Arthur does what any concerned King would do, and snoops.

Gaius won’t say a word about it, and not in the way he normally does where he says he doesn’t know anything but secretly does. No, instead Gaius gets oddly stern with him. At least, as stern as he ever outwardly gets when he’s talking to Arthur. It’s that strange disappointed-not-quite-angry voice that just makes Arthur feel like he’s a boy again. He tries to sneak in there once when Merlin and Gaius are out collecting pots and nearly gets caught by a patrolling guard and decides that no, he won’t be doing that again.

It has nothing to do with the fact that Merlin and Gaius came back to a cauldron with some sort of potion in it spilled all across the floor. Absolutely not.

Then he goes to ask Gwen. Gwen and Merlin talk about things. Maybe Merlin has talked to Gwen about…whatever that pouch was. But Gwen looks at him with a frown and says that she doesn’t know.

“I’ve never seen him with a pouch like that before. Are you sure it was his? Not someone else’s?”

“He nearly tackled me into the wall over it, that doesn’t sound like something he’d do if it wasn’t his.”

Gwen snorts. “He what?”

“Didn’t work, obviously, he’s not strong enough.”

“Of course not, My King.”

Still, he can hear her snickering as he turns to go.

As a last resort, he turns to the knights.

“I don’t know what that could be,” Elyan says as they take care of their armor after a long day of training, “it’s not like Merlin’s known for hoarding great treasures, he’s not a dragon.”

“Maybe it’s just something of his he wants to keep secret?” Lancelot hangs the training sword back on the wall. “We can hardly begrudge a man his privacy.”

“It was just a small amount of coin. Barely more than a month’s pay.”

“Perhaps he’s sending it to his mother?”

‘“I’ve asked if it’s that, he didn’t answer.”

“Maybe he’s saving it.” They all turn to look at Gwaine. “What?”

”He’s been working here for years, and he’s saved not even a month’s pay?”

“Well, if he’s spending his days in the tavern,” Arthur grumbles and Gwaine laughs. “Are you the one encouraging him then?”

Gwaine laughs again, like Arthur’s made a joke, but when he sees Arthur’s expression, his face falls.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

If Gwaine is hiding something, then this is far bigger than Arthur thought.

He does not follow Gwaine that night, because he is a King and kings do not spy on their knights, but if he happens to be outside Gaius’s chambers that evening when Gwaine and Merlin are also there, then that’s just a coincidence. A very lucky coincidence.

“Arthur told us something after training, you know,” he hears Gwaine say through the cracked door.

A thunk as Merlin sets down something heavy. “What, that he needs his armor polished until you can all see his face in it?”

“That he found you in your room with a pouch of coin.”

The room goes so silent that Arthur starts to fret they’ve vanished into thin air. He holds his breath.

“That’s all he said?”

He winces at how cold Merlin sounds.

“That and he thought you were spending all your money at the tavern.” Merlin laughs at that. It’s a humorless thing. “He doesn’t know, then?”

Know what?

”No,” Merlin says lowly, “he doesn’t. Did you—“

“No one told him,” Gwaine says firmly and Arthur moves as close to the door as he dares, “he thinks I’m the one dragging you there every day.”

Merlin’s sigh of relief is palpable. “Good. That’s alright, then.”

There’s another moment of silence. Then Gwaine shifts and his mail rasps against the table.

“Was it to send to your mother, then? That coin?”

Merlin huffs. “No. That’s all I’ve got.”

“All you’ve got? But Arthur said it was less than a month’s pay, how—“

“A month? What, for him, maybe. That’s all I’ve ever gotten.”

Arthur blinks. And blinks. And blinks again. That can’t be right.

Gwaine seems to agree. “You—aren’t you being paid more because you’re Princess’s manservant?”

“News to me if that’s true.”

Arthur’s heard enough. He moves quickly and quietly back through the halls, sitting down at his desk and folding his hands. The candle snaps and crackles as he stares unseeing into the shadows of his room.

Two things. First, Merlin is not being paid what he should be, clearly. He needs to go and have a word with the steward, find out exactly what Merlin is being paid, how often, and how much he is owed in lost wages.

Second, Merlin is hiding something. Something that at least Gwaine knows, if not the rest of the knights. And it has something to do with the fact that Merlin is not, in fact, at the tavern nearly as much as Arthur thinks he is, if at all.

Sleep comes fitfully that night.

***

”If you glare at that parchment anymore, sire, you’re liable to burn a hole through it.”

Arthur doesn’t care. He’ll set fire to this whole office if he damn well pleases. Especially this rude, blasphemous, audacious piece of paper.

“How did this happen,” he snarls with enough venom to make the steward and even Leon shuffle, “did we not increase all servants to a minimum payment after my coronation?”

“We did, sire.”

“Then explain this.”

“Merlin was not chosen by you initially,” the steward says, voice remarkably even as Arthur glares at him, “he was appointed by your late father.”

“So?”

“So,” Leon continues, “the King’s appointments exist outside the normal agreements for servants. They have their own terms and conditions, including modified pay rates.”

”Show me.”

The steward gets up and goes to a chest of drawers, opening one and rifling through it. He produces a single sheaf of paper and carries it back over to the desk, adjusting his glasses.

“Here, sire, if you would?”

Arthur does not snatch it, because he is a King and kings do not snatch, and the paper was certainly already torn when it found its way into his grip.

Not for the first time, he wishes his father were somewhere he could talk to him, so he could shout about the man’s hypocrisy for serving the people when he would give them a barely-livable wage and call it fair.

“What is a King’s manservant supposed to be paid?” The steward slides another sheet of paper towards him. “Good. Change it to that right now.”

“Right away, sire.”

“And give him what he should’ve been paid before.”

“How much?”

“As much as he’s owed,” Arthur growls.

“We would only be able to excuse that if we went back as far as your coronation, which would be—“

”Fine, fine. Whatever makes it so you give the man what he’s owed.”

The steward looks far too pleased to carry out the order, which just gives Arthur more motivation to shout at Uther, but he pushes that down because he is a King, now, and kings do not scream at people who do not deserve it, if they scream at all.

“Will there be anything else, sire?”

“Not at this time. Thank you.”

”My pleasure, sire, as always.”

Arthur nods and turns to leave, striding down the hall with Leon at his side. The man is as inscrutable as always, not offering any condemnation or encouragement as Arthur mutters to himself.

“Didn’t so much as say anything, idiot, barely a livable wage for someone in the poorest part of the city, honestly…”

Leon doesn’t say a word until they reach Arthur’s chambers. “If I might?”

“Please, old friend, come in.” Arthur all but collapses into a chair and buries his face in his hands. “I don’t—why didn’t he tell me?”

”Merlin is a private person. It’s likely he preferred not to discuss such things, especially with you.”

Arthur peeks out between his fingers. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Aside from the fact that you’re his employer, the two of you don’t exactly have the…typical relationship between a king and his servant.”

Arthur huffs. “Which is why I thought he’d tell me.”

“Perhaps.”

“I know that tone of voice, or perhaps what?”

“Or perhaps Merlin didn’t know that something was amiss.”

Now Arthur does sit up, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“As the steward said: you did not choose Merlin upon his original appointment. He saved your life and the then King had him assigned to you. He was not trained to be a servant, much less the Crown Prince’s manservant. I seem to remember many complaints when he was first starting?”

“But that’s—but he did get training.”

“Only after he began working for you, and only from other servants who were not experienced with being your servant. The exception to this would be Gwen, but—“

“But I’m not Morgana.”

“Quite.”

Arthur slumps against the back of his chair. The worst part is that it makes a disturbing amount of sense: Merlin fought against him on how he was treated, how Arthur treated most servants, but not about the coin. Because he knew that people deserved to be treated better than that, but he didn’t know anything about how servants were supposed to be paid. And how could he? He wasn’t a servant—he came from a relatively poor village, how could he know? And so when he was asked by the steward originally—and probably with Uther ushering the process along as quickly as possible, he hadn’t known that he could ask for a better wage.

“Damn,” he mutters. Leon hums. “Damn.”

“You have a council meeting in a few hours, sire. The new allocation of funds is likely to be discussed.”

“Wonderful.” Leon chuckles at his tone. “Will you be there?”

“Of course, sire.”

As he goes, Arthur moves to his desk and starts writing out some of the formalities that the steward will need to add to the record. It’s mindless enough work that he starts to wonder about that other half of things. His gaze finds the door where Leon had just vanished.

Did Leon know?

It was almost a certainty. If there was one person Arthur could rely on to know almost everything that happened in Camelot, it was Leon. Something about the man’s quiet nature made him the ideal confidant, not just for the upper echelons but the lower as well. He swears Leon could put together a list of everything he had ever been told in confidence and it would run the length of the city.

So Leon knew, most likely. And with that came the conclusion that Arthur would never, ever be able to get it out of him.

Gwaine was probably the easier bet, but Gwaine isn’t about to come to this council meeting.

With that in mind, he quickly finishes the paperwork and sets it aside before Merlin comes sweeping in to make sure he’s ready. They manage to get there early, for once, and take their places before the rest of the lords come in to talk about whatever it is the lords believe is worth discussing.

“And as the last thing,” the steward says as the meeting winds to a close, “is the budget allocation for this next period.”

“I expect everything is the same?”

“With the exception of the compensation fund we discussed earlier, yes, sire, all the same.”

Arthur nods and moves to close the meeting when one of the lords speaks up.

“Pardon the interruption, sire, but…what compensation fund?”

“It has come to my attention that someone in the castle has not been paid what they are due, and so we are compensating them for their lost wages.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Merlin look at him.

“But surely that is not a sum worthy of factoring into the crown’s budget, so…” The lord trails off as he catches sight of said sum over the steward’s shoulder. He stands up with a horrid screech. “Have you gone mad?”

“Your tongue, my lord,” Leon says lowly, stepping forward, “you will address your king with respect.”

“I’ll address him with respect when he’s not spending a mountain of coin on a single person!” The lord tries to snatch the paper but the steward holds firm. “What is the meaning of this?”

“They were not paid the proper amount for several years,” Arthur says calmly, “we are rectifying this.”

“But this—this—this would put the crown in debt!”

“And any proceedings from a legal standpoint would as well. Or would you rather the crown be taken to a formal trial and then forced to pay owed wages?”

Leon steps up to contain the lord’s fury, but Arthur couldn’t care less. Not when Merlin is looking at him with his mouth open and something suspiciously shiny about his eyes.

He risks only a glance at him before he stands and brings the meeting to a close.

***

”That was good of you,” Gwaine says, quiet enough that it’s hidden under the clang and clash of swords on the training field, “making up his pay like that.”

“It’s what he’s owed.”

”Still.” He wipes his blade with a rag. “Never seen a King stick his neck out like that for a servant.”

“It’s Merlin.”

“That it is.” Their shoulders bump. “Still. Good one, mate.”

Arthur just nods. Merlin is across the field, tending to a table of armor that needs to be repaired. He sees Lancelot, Elyan, and Percival each go up to him in turn, talking to him or ruffling his hair. Even Leon glances over from where he’s supervising a group of younger knights and gifts him with a softer smile.

“He looks happier.”

“He does,” Gwaine agrees, stretching out next to him, “he’s sleeping better too.”

Arthur whips around. “How would you know how he’s sleeping?”

“Whoa, easy, Princess,” Gwaine laughs, “not like that. He’s finally bought himself a proper mattress, that’s all. Heard him talking about it with Gaius this morning.”

“Oh.”

Gwaine chuckles. “Don’t worry, none of us would dare.”

“You’d better not.”

“Oh, I like myself intact, thank you very much.” He sniffs. “Not that you’d actually manage to do that much damage.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Gwaine shoves him lightly and they both laugh. It trails off and they go back to watching the men train. At least, ostensibly they’re watching the men train. Really they’re both watching Merlin.

”I wish he’d told me,” Arthur says, almost too quiet to hear. He knows Gwaine does by the way he hums.

They look at each other. Arthur searches his expression for a long moment. Gwaine’s eyebrow twitches.

Tell me, he pleads silently, please, tell me.

Gwaine doesn’t say a word.

With a sigh, Arthur looks back at Merlin. Their eyes meet across the field. Merlin’s brow twitches in a silent you alright? Arthur nods. Merlin grins.

With a grunt, he heaves himself to his feet, readying his sword to go and relieve Percival from his bout with Lancelot, when Gwaine catches his arm.

“Arthur.”

“Yes?”

“Next time you and Merlin go on a hunt, don’t kill anything.”

He frowns, a thousand questions building up on the tip of his tongue, but he nods. Gwaine nods back and loudly goes to make a nuisance of himself.

“Sire,” Elyan says as he approaches, “is everything alright?”

“Fine, fine. Shall we?”

“Ready when you are.”

***

“I still don’t understand why you insist on these hunts,” Merlin grumbles as he shoves something else into a pack, “it’s not like we don’t have food in the castle.”

“Maybe it’s not about the food, Merlin.”

“Oh, so you just want to go kill something. Should’ve guessed.”

He cuffs him lightly upside the head. “Just get the horses ready.”

Merlin grumbles something unflattering about Arthur’s resemblance to his horse as he goes. Gwaine’s words turn over and over in his mind as he packs up the crossbow. He truly isn’t planning on killing anything, but the woods aren’t exactly free of dangers. At the very least, if there are bandits that decide to attack them.

Merlin can say all he wants about not enjoying hunts, but he can’t hide the way his shoulders slump when they leave the walls of the city. He has that terribly earnest and whimsical look on his face as they make it into the woods, the breeze ruffling his hair and the birds calling out from the trees. Arthur has to remind himself to look where his horse is going and not just stare at Merlin the entire time, but Merlin’s not exactly looking at him either, so he can get away with it.

He may have claimed this was a hunt, but Merlin hasn’t seemed to notice that they’re not hunting anything. They pass more than a few obvious deer tracks that Arthur completely ignores and any smaller game like rabbit scatter well before Arthur could so much as reach for the crossbow. Instead, Merlin is in a little world of his own, marveling at the forest like it’s the most splendid thing he’s ever seen.

Arthur supposes he can’t talk, that’s how he’s looking at Merlin.

Eventually, he calls for a break near the river. Merlin just hums and gets off the horse, taking the bit from its mouth so it can graze, and loosening the saddle’s girth. Arthur sets the pack on the ground and rifles through it for their water skins.

“I’m going to fill these up, set up the rest of camp.”

“But we haven’t caught anything yet.”

“No harm in taking a rest, is there? Though if you want to keep going—“

“No, no, rest is good.”

Arthur chuckles as he heads off through the trees, listening to Merlin bustle about behind him. He manages to get down to the river in a few short minutes, holding the water skins under a small waterfall to fill them.

”Hey,” he mutters to himself, “so I’m glad we sorted out the thing with your pay, but now apparently there’s something else I don’t know about. What is it?”

Yeah, like that would work.

“The knights know something about you and I’m worried it’s similar. What is it?”

Also not likely to work.

“I’m worried about you and also quite hopelessly in love. Help.” He scoffs at himself. “I’d have better luck telling my father I want to court a servant.”

He mutters half a dozen more to himself, each worse than the last, before he realizes the sun is going down and he’s been ‘getting water’ for far too long. He drags his feet through the brush as he goes back, still muttering, when he hears something from the direction of their camp. Instinctively, he crouches and reaches for the dagger on his hip.

He peers around a tree and—

Oh.

Oh, no.

Merlin is sitting in the middle of camp with golden tendrils of magic—it must be magic, it couldn’t possibly be anything else—creating a suspended web of leaves and flowers in a sphere around himself. Butterflies flit around him like he’s some forest nymph. His fingers move and twirl through the air and it responds to him like a living thing. Arthur is speechless.

Merlin has magic.

Merlin had magic.

And it’s beautiful and incredible and so very Merlin and Arthur is done for.

Just as he’s coming to the conclusion of how irrevocably bollocked he is, Merlin turns and sees him.

The yelp he makes is heartbreaking and all the things crash down around him as he scrabbles away. But he goes too fast and ends up flat on his back, staring at Arthur with his eyes so wide he can see the whites all the way around. Arthur quickly decides that this is unacceptable and Merlin is never allowed to be scared like this, and so he raises his hands in a gesture of surrender.

Merlin doesn’t move.

Slowly, so slowly, Arthur starts to make his way across the clearing. Merlin flinches and bites his lip to stifle his whimpers whenever Arthur accidentally snaps a twig or crushes a leaf. It takes an age and Arthur’s shoulders ache by the time he makes it, but then he’s standing over Merlin and he reaches out a hand.

Merlin takes it. He can feel it tremble.

Carefully, he pulls Merlin to his feet. The poor thing still looks so scared and Arthur wracks his brain for something, anything he could say to make this better, let Merlin know he would never, that it’s all going to be alright…

But he’s never been particularly good with words.

Actions, on the other hand…

Telegraphing his movements so Merlin can stop him, he cups the side of Merlin’s face, feeling his jaw tremble. With a courage he does not feel, he leans in.

Merlin makes a surprised noise when he kisses him, but slowly, slowly, he kisses back.

Camelot could go to war, bandits could ambush them, Uther himself could stride into the clearing and Arthur would tell him to wait.

They break apart but dare not separate, still breathing the same air. Arthur swallows heavily and pulls Merlin closer.

“I’m going to legalize magic.”

Merlin’s breath stutters against his cheek. “You’re—you what?”

“I’m going to legalize magic.”

“So…you’re not going to kill me?”

“No. Never.” He tangles his fingers in Merlin’s hair. “I would sooner throw myself on the sword.”

Merlin huffs a strangled laugh. “Will you kiss me again?”

Arthur doesn’t hesitate.

Gwaine is never going to let him live this down. But he’s the King, so it doesn’t matter.

#bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin #dragonbabbles #fic

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sleepdeprivedsimp234 · 2 days

Text

Decided to finally write my fic idea that I posted a while ago :D

Summary: Texas has been working for too long and Oklahoma isnt happy about it. Texas gets a much much needed massage, they have a talk, tears are shed, cuddles ensue.

Random HC: Texas has piercings (navel, ear, nose, lip). Not as many as New York, NJ, or Louisiana though.

_________________________________________

Oklahoma stomped out to the barn with an exasperated look on his face. Texas has been working outside everyday from ungodly hours of the morning until they went to bed, and even then he wouldn't sleep. Oklahoma was upset about it, yes, but he was more worried than anything. The days were long, hot, and humid, and he knew that Texas didn't have that good of an immune system nor a clear knowing of when to take a break (so he didn't). Oklahoma barged into the barn.

"Texas!!!"

Texas's head shot up from where he was fixing Ranger's stable door. "Uh oh...", he whispered to himself. Welp. He had a good run.

"Yeah...? Whats up?"

Oklahoma scoffed. "You know whats up!"

Texas did know. But he would just play dumb. "Uhhh no...?" See, his tone was halfway convincing, but his nervous smile gave him away.

Oklahoma just stared at his boyfriend for a minute, looking him up and down. Texas's hair was a frizzy wreck, there was sweat dripping down his face and strong yet slender arms, and he had long abandoned his shirt, only wearing his binder now. Oklahoma couldnt help but blush at the sight of Texas's toned, scarred, freckled midriff. Huh when did Texas have a navel piercing....

Texas chuckles. "Like what ya see?~", he teased.

Yeah. Okay. He did. But given the circumstances, he wasnt all too happy. He sighed before walking over to the taller state and forcing him to his feet.

Texas let out an uncharacteristic squeak as he was pulled to his feet by rough yet gentle hands. He was about to say something, but then Oklahoma started dragging him towards the house by his arm. He felt a slight twinge of pain from his aching arm muscles, but said nothing and just allowed himself to be dragged.

Once they got inside the house, Texas was unceremoniously tossed onto the couch. He looked up at Oklahoma, who had his arms crossed and a mad....no, not mad.... disappointed look on his face. God Texas hated that look.....

"Well? Wanna explain yerself? It is 8pm! What time didja wake up and start workin'??" Oklahoma questioned.

Texas cleared his throat. "I-I-I know that yer mad bu-"

"Im not mad!!" Oklahoma snapped. He was about to shout again, but reconsidered after seeing the mild fearful look. Damn ol Texas for maming him so soft....He sighs. "Sorry I'm just.... I'm just worried alright?? Yer always overworkin' yerself and doing stuff for me and others. Ya work in the hot sun for hours on end without takin' more than five minutes to take a break. And when ya do take those five minute breaks, its just to consume more unhealthy amounts of caffeine! Ya never actually make time for yerself and yer health and ya cant tell me that its not worrying!"

Texas avoided eye contact for a minute before looking up at his boyfriend. He wanted to say something, but he couldnt. He stared down at his feet instead of just uselessly staring up at the Sooner State.

Oklahoma sits down next to Texas and pulls him into a hug. He gently rubs up and down the taller state's back and buries his face in his shoulders. Texas mentally cursed himself as tears welled up in his eyes.

"I-I-I'm sorry, mi amor.....", his voice shook with every word.

"Shhhh.....dont apologize...", Oklahoma whispered gently, his heart breaking. He pulled away slightly and saw the tears running down Texas's face. "Oh Tex....." He pulls Texas back into the hug.

Texas clung to Oklahoma as if he would disappear if he were to let go. He let the tears fall from his eyes, as he was no longer able to hold them back.

"Hey....", Oklahoma spoke gently. He tilted Texas's head up and gently held Texas's face in his hand and gently stroked his cheek. "I'm not mad....okay? Youre not in trouble. Not at all. Okay...?"

Texas nods his head yes, though it was clear that he was unsure.

"I would like to know why ya do this to yerself though.....Ya can tell me why, I won't be mad." Oklahoma gently ran his fingers through Texas's hair

Texas sighs before just getting to the point and he said the first thing that came to mind, "¿De qué sirvo si no trabajo....?" He felt the hand in his hair pause for a second.

It took Oklahoma a moment to translate his boyfriend's words to English. Once he did, his heart broke a little more. "Tex? Do ya really think that yer only purpose in life is to work and serve others...?" The only response he got was a strained shrug and a defeated sigh. Oklahoma sighed himself and just hugged Texas closer. "Please...Texas....You have much more purpose than just being a workhorse and a servant....and you're your own person with your own body and mind. Ya cant overwork yerself and overexert yer body like this. Please promise me you'll try to take more breaks and not work so much.....okay? I love ya so, so much, my star....."

Texas's eyes welled up with more tears and he pressed a soft wet kiss to Oklahoma's lips. Once he pulled away, he stared down at the Sooner State with nothing but pure love. "Te amo, mi corazon...." He rolled his shoulders back a bit and tried to stifle a wince at the pain that shot through his sore torso.

Oklahoma furrowed his brow in concern. "Jesus Christ- Are ya hurt??"

"No. M' just a lil sore....", was Texas's reply.

Oklahoma paused for a moment before speaking up, "Lay down on yer belly and lay yer head on yer arms." Texas was a little confused, but did as he was told.

Oklahoma began to gently massage Texas's back, starting at Texas's shoulder blades and gently digging his thumbs into the area. Texas groaned softly as the knots were tenderly messaged out of his shoulders.

"Where are ya most sore?"

"..lower and middle of my back..."

And so thats where Oklahoma moved his hands. Texas groaned and whimpered slightly as Oklahoma worked his magic. Oklahoma blushed at the sounds that escaped Texas's lips, and even more at the fact that he was the one causing the noises to happen. He leans down towards Texas's neck and planted a gentle kiss on the back of Texas's neck. He chuckles at the shiver that runs through Texas's body.

Oklahoma gently rubs up and down Texas's back once he massaged all the knots out. "Aight I got yer back. Where else are ya sore?"

Texas melted at the feeling on his back. "Y-Ya don't have t-"

"Answer the question, Texas."

".....arms an' hands...."

"Aight."

Texas was flipped over onto his back and Oklahoma gently took his arm and kneaded his thumbs into Texas's bicep. He worked his way down, eventually coming to Texas's hand. He dug his thumbs into the palm of Texas's hand, earning an embarrassing whimper from the Lone Star State. The Sooner State chuckles as a blush spreads across the taller state's face.

Once Oklahoma was done with helping Texas's sore torso, he cuddled him close and they both fell asleep, Texas lightly draped across Oklahoma and Oklahoma with his arms wrapped around Texas.

___________________________________________

Tags: @tigerdrachin @alaskashigh @misery-has-no-company-now (lmao Misery idk if you like TexaHoma, but theres angst soooo-)

#welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #ben brainard #wttt #wttsh #wttt texas #wttsh texas #wttt oklahoma #wttsh oklahoma

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hailsatanacab · 2 months

Note

I'll ask after that secret number 8!

I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅

Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?

———

It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.

Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.

Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache.

It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were.

A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.

Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.

“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.

Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.

“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”

Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too?

It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!

He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—

“I’m Batman.”

The smile freezes on Danny’s face.

His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—

“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence.

Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How?

Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman.

Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…

A little over a year.

Just under 16 months since he escaped.

“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks

Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.

Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating.

“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.

Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?

"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"

"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.

"I don't understand, why..."

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"

"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"

It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.

But it was easier than this.

"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"

"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"

"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.

"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"

Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.

Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.

But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.

Before he...

He really thought this would be different, you know?

He wanted to make it official.

"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."

"Danny, we are a—"

"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please."

Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.

"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."

"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now. "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."

"Danny—"

"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"

"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."

Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.

He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!

The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?

Steph is chewing on her thumb.

Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.

He likes them all.

"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."

"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."

"But you work with them and—"

"Who do I work with?"

"The Justice League."

"Yes, I do, but we—"

"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."

Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.

"Kill me."

"Danny? What do—"

"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."

"Danny..."

"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dpxdc fanfic #wip game #thanks for the ask <3 and thanks for helping me remember this fic lol #also huge thanks for having the prompt linked because i have S O M A N Y prompt wips that i can't ever post because i've lost the post #didn't really know how to get danny to calm down #that's a lie #i have a few ideas of where this can go but no motivation for it - not against all the other wips #i'll keep at it and ig post to ao3 should it actually start looking alright #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#dudes did u kno u can pin shit to your clipboard on desktop because i fucking love that #also if you use the windows key + . there's like emojis and shit #(((φ(◎ロ◎;)φ)))#<- and kaomoji too!!!!!#anyway that's been fun facts and fanfic with me. ur welcome #oh shit my writing tag #hailsatanacrab🦀🦀writes #at some point 'oh shit my writing tag' will just become my writing tag #anyway thank you again for the ask #good night everyone!!!!!

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