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citruslullabies · 2 months

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idea

fox smiling critter reader x catnap after hour of joy

where reader is the only critter catnap left alive and they follow in his footsteps worshipping the prototype only because they love him but end up dying by the player

Got a lil carried away ..

Trigger warnings: blood and death, malnourishment, obsessive tendencies and unrealistic/delusional relationships

Romantic/platonic: romantic (I'm assuming)

Requested by: anonymous

Category: angst

Ship (romantic or platonic): Catnap x fox!smiling critter!reader

Word count: 571

I Did it For You

The Hour of Joy was.. a painful time. You hadn't enjoyed it, but you only participated in it to survive and to appease the one you loved the most.

You had always loved Catnap, loved him so much you were willing to throw everything away and even worship a god you personally didn't find much interest in. But you did it all for him. He was quiet after the hour of joy, not speaking much but he didn't have to. You still understood him better than anyone else, even better than the prototype. Your skinny malnourished body of a fox leaped through the building.

You found Catnap finally taking a moment of rest, a moment that was so rare for him nowadays. And you approached him with clawed paws and a bone structure tapping against the ground as if you were the boogie man. Maybe to some you were, but you weren't a bad person. You just.. simply loved someone more than you should have.

“Catnap?” You managed to chitter out, sitting beside him despite your hips cracking with every movement and your skin fighting against them as if it would tear wide open. He slowly woke up and looked up at you, silent besides a low rumble as if accepting your presence.

A smile permanently etched into your face as you pressed your head against his, not like you wouldn't be smiling either way with him. Your matted fur that was slowly ripping out was still soft in a way that was comforting, your fox tail looking more like a stingray with how thin and torn apart it was. But you wouldn't have it any other way just to be with him.

You let out a cackle as you felt Catnap’s tail wrap around yours, knowing it was a tactic of manipulation but you couldn't care less. If he said jump, you'd ask how high. Your attention was quickly yanked away from Catnap, hearing footsteps in the distance and the robotic sound of pressing buttons. You growled knowing it was the player, maybe in a previous life you wouldn't mind them. But they were an enemy of Catnap's so they were an enemy of yours.

You half expected Catnap to get up and handle it himself since he liked the chase, but he stared at you blankly as he slowly began to growl from irritation when you sat there and did nothing. You took the hint and left your beloved there to rest, getting up and moving through starvation just to get silent praise from the feline.

You couldn't even care less about whatever praise the prototype might provide you, only caring about the sadistic cats.

You moved and chased after the player, growling and stalking them. Just as you were about to get them.. your eyes suddenly widened as you yelped out in pain. You let out a weak and pitiful sob, thrashing around to get out from beneath the heavy metal crushing you and breaking your nimble bones with pressure. You let out yips and sobs for help, begging catnap to come save you. But he never came.

He later found you, dead and bloodied from your skin tearing apart from shattered bones that always pressed against it. He took you out from beneath the rubble and grieved a bit, licking your wounds as if cleaning you before offering you to the prototype.

It was a shame, really.

Thank you for requesting!

#smiling critters #poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #catnap poppy playtime #catnap x reader #catnap #catnap x you #poppy’s playtime x reader

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lucifermonsii · 3 months

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H!Keegan X Male!Reader

Chapter 2: "There you are.."

The subtle sounds of footsteps along with slight leave crunches awakens the critters in the darkness as the men walks through the thick forest, mud and dirt stains their boots with every step of the way. Wearing night goggles to see clearly through the dark as it was a hue of blue, M/N keeping his firearm tight and close to himself as he walks behind the other operatives, keeping his eyes open and his ears sharp to detect any threats within the area. His body tenses from the slight rustle of the bushes or the small soft steps of the creatures along the dense forest, the cold atmosphere surrounds them as they were accompanied by the moon. The moonlight dances around the surroundings as it shines the midnight creatures who roams in the dark.

Eventually reaching their destination they stopped, standing all together as they report back to the ones at base. With a crackle of one of the operatives radio:

"We're here sir."

Says the operatice before signaling the others to follow inside the building in front, all of the men sneek inside the building with no problem as they surrounded the area within. Hiding in the shadows as they took out any enemies on sight, of course splitting up to cover more ground. M/N hurries along his way in the shadows as he moves like a wraith, keeping silent with his footsteps. Upon seeing an enemy on sight he stops and crouches, the person walks along in a lab coat, walking pass M/N before getting pulled into the shadow and getting their neck cracked in a singular twist by the man. He releases the body before picking up the keycard that was in the pocket of the dead body, stuffing it into his own before proceeding to find the room for it. Walking down a long hallway there were many metal doors in sight along the dimly lit hallway.

M/N walks along before stopping at the last room of the row of doors, another one of his men arriving at the hallway as they met with a nod. He signals the other to try unlock the other doors as he attempts to unlock the that stood infront of him, taking out the keycard the door opens with a soft beep. Opening before him as he steps foot inside, cautiously he walks around. Still keeping his firearm close to him as he spots the large empty cells, ones that were stained with blood, dirt and many other unpleasent things to witness. At the corner of his eyes he spots a dark cell that has a humanoid figure at the corner of it. Out of curiosity he gets closer, taking small and cautios footsteps towards the cell.

"Who's there...?"

He asks with precaution, his tone smooth and monotoned but still terrified of what may be the entity. The creature responds with a low growl, slowly turning its body to look at M/N with its blue eyes. The rest still remains hidden as there was a faint silhouette of a long tail with a pointed arrow at the end of it, its eyes furrows as it shifts deeper within the shadows. Making itself smaller as if showing submission. A light chitter escapes its lips as its tail slightly swings. M/N's eyes spots the mechanic device where a keycard was needed, so being the curious person he was— he decided to step into the cell and approach said entity.

Eyes fixated upon the creature as he hums, furrowing his eyebrows while he slowly approaches it with cautuon. Taking slow steps as he got closer, and closer to the creature. Firearm slowly lowering down as he was now a foot away from it, narrowing his eyes as his gaze sharpens, focusing on the entity. Then— he got a glimps of it ocean blue eyes, him making himself smaller as his tail wraps around him. A hum escapes his lips as he stares up at M/N with those blue doe eyes.

He couldn't believe it...

Was this really him?

"Keegan, what happened...?"

He questions ever so softly as he crouches down infront of him, his firearm now placed at its holster as M/N's hand slowly approaches Keegan. Wanting to caress his cloth face in the shadows. Slight tears pricked at the corner of his eyes as his gloved hand contacts with the fabric of Keegan's balaclava, palm again his cheek as he gently caresses his cheek with his thumb.

"I- Im scared M/N... I don't want to be here anymore."

Keegan whimpers as his voice slightly cracks, light tears fall down his cheek as he jumps towards M/N and hugs him tightly. Not wanting to let go or lose him ever again. Legs wrapped around his waist as he kept a tight grip around his body, face buried into M/N's neck and his tail around the male's thigh, M/N falling back slightly and landing on his butt, making him seated on the cold ground. His hands finds his way at Keegan's back at the smaller male sobs softly.

M/N's eyes darts around Keegan's new form, realising what he has become. A demon of some sort. Having horns and a tail, along with some other things he suspects. His hand goes behind the back of his head, slightly lifting his face away to inspect it. Keegan's sclera were dark, black even and his ocean blue eyes were more vibrant.

"What happened...?"

He murmurs softly with furrowed eyebrows as a tinge of sympathy lingers within him of what Keegan had experienced from the past few days. His grip on Keegan tightens as he sighs, pulling Keegan back in his embrace as they sat there in the warmth of eachothers arms. The sergeant sobs softly against M/N's neck as tears streams down his face, clearly traumatised from the experience of being locked up.

"I miss you so much.."

@arthurmorgansballsack

#x male reader #call of duty modern warfare ii #male reader #ghost mw2 #cod mw x reader #top male reader #dom male reader #moots #keegan x male reader #keegan p russ x reader #keegan russ x reader #cod keegan #keegan p russ #Keegan russ #cod x male reader

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queerbatting · 1 year

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if you've ever wondered what gender euphoria feels like, this is it right here

(original tweet this post was taken from)

#barbie #barbie movie #barbie greta gerwig #gender euphoria #trans #transgender #also id have just screenshotted the original tweet but it was a qrt and you couldnt read the images in the screenshot #critter chitters

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 1 year

Text

Stuck Outside

Characters: Reader, Niffler, Pickett

Warnings: Cuteness?

Summary: You were left behind while Newt entered the chasm to retrieve his brother. Fortunately, you were with two of his trusted companions.

Waiting for Newt to rescue his brother was a painful task. Teddy was making some small noises from his locked cage for a few minutes now as you paced.

“I know it’s been a while.” You answered. “I can’t imagine that they’ve made it easy.”

The guard grunted, looking from the niffler to the human. “You can understand that thing?”

You glanced at him for a split second and sent the man a scathing look. Pickett piped up from her side of the cage and you turned your attention to the bowtruckle.

“Nothing will happen to Newt, I promise.”

Teddy chittered and you scoffed. “No, you can’t can’t take a trip to Gringotts if something goes wrong.”

You were already stressed about not being there to help and Newt’s beasts weren’t helping. You continued to pace and noticed an orange crab-like creature scurrying across the floor until it slid beneath the metal bars and into the deep prison cave.

At first you didn’t think much of it but when you caught a glimpse of its stinger, it clicked! It was a manticore. You had documented the fearsome critters a few years ago for Newt’s book, recalling that they travel only with the mother beast, dislike bright lights, and there could be thousands at a time.

Fearing that that was what lurking in the cells beneath, you ran towards the gate and grabbed the bars only to receive a sharp jolt which threw you a few paces back.

“Damn it!” you cursed.

Stepping close once again, you were careful not to make contact and instead cupped your hands around your mouth. Taking in a deep breath, you let out a high-pitched whistle that bounced down the cavern walls. You paused and then repeated the sound twice.

It was a warning call that you and Newt had established, to the untrained ear it sounded like a noise but to Newt and yourself, it was a message.

Manticore. Swivel.

Suddenly, you were grabbed by the back of your shirt and pulled backwards by the guard.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He growled, shoving you back towards the desk. “Your friends are as good as dead.” You smacked into the edge of the hard stone and rubbed your arm as the man turned his back to eat.

If you had your wand on you, you would have turned him into a toad.

Pickett chirped. Escape?

You scowled at the man’s head and turned your gaze to Newt’s critters, shooting them a wink. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Masterlist here

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #fantastic beasts imagine #fantastic beasts x reader #newt imagine #newt x reader #newt scamander imagine #newt scamander x reader

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justadino-ig · 2 months

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my sister is like a walking bag of bones that can rattle at will

#critter chitter

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adrift-in-thyme · 1 day

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@telemna-hyelle it took more than an hour (sorry about that) but here it is! The Four/Dot fluff I promised!

I hope it helps you end your day on a good note <33

----------------------------------------------------------

He isn’t ready for this.

Four moves along the wooded path as if in a trance. He knows every step of this place like the back of his hand. But usually, he is much more attentive than this. Usually, he keeps a watchful eye on the surrounding area, scouting for the stray chu or keese.

Today, however, he cannot seem to keep his mind on such things. The sunlight dappled earth beneath his feet, the scent of leaves and bark baked in the afternoon warmth, the breeze that caresses his cheeks, and the chittering of the many critters that scamper about within the foliage – they are all lost on him.

He feels Dot’s hand in his, her palm smooth and warm. He smells her perfume – light and sweet like the cotton candy they spin at the yearly festivals. He hears her laughter, bright and unrestrained and free as she tells a tale from her day. He sees her, radiant, hair like strands of gold and eyes the color of the joyful sky.

She looks at him, says something he can’t comprehend. He nods, conjures up a smile. With luck, it won’t be as strained as he feels that it is.

He has faced beasts one hundred times his size, navigated the pain and confusion of being split into four, saved the world twice. But by the golden three, he is not ready for this.

And yet, he is going through with it anyway. He can’t back down now. Not when his best friend is right here beside him, every moment of basking in her presence strengthening the love he feels for her.

Four squares his shoulders. Yes, this is the right thing to do. The hardest things often are.

The Minish have done a spectacular job preparing the clearing. That much is evident as soon as it comes into view. Everything is as they had planned. Every detail has been attended to with immaculate care.

Vines drape over tree limbs, their slim strands heavy with layered blossoms. Flower petals drift down in lazy pirouettes to join the coat of vibrant pink already lying on the forest floor. The sun glimmers through slightly parted branches. Not far off a fairy fountain casts its soothing glow. Soft notes of magic drift to Four’s ears as he leads Dot forward.

“Link,” she breathes, gazing upward and all around, eyes wide with adoration, “this is beautiful.”

“Yes, it is,” he agrees with a calm he in no way feels. “The Minish worked very hard on it.”

Dot turns to him now, head cocked in question. “The Minish? What do you…”

She trails off as he drops to one knee.

It feels as though he is kneeling on a bed of silk. But the sensation in his chest as he reaches into his pouch is about as pleasant as the Big Octorok sitting on him.

The ring is in his palm though, a delicate thing melted and shaped and fired by his own two hands. It had taken countless tries to get it right, to meld the corners into the perfect curve, to carve the designs in the way he imagined them to be. Making jewelry is not quite the same as crafting a sword. It requires a different sort of skill.

But he had found that skill within him. And he had created something beautiful. Something he will be proud to see upon her finger.

“Zelda,” he murmurs and curses the way his voice trembles a bit at the end, “Zelda, Princess of Hyrule, my dearest friend…” He raises his head, gazes into those big blue eyes. The ones that had shone with empathy when the pieces of himself had threatened to shatter him anew. The ones that had glowed with mirth and joy at the festivals, brightened when he told a joke, gone sharp with interest when he told a tale.

The eyes he has gotten lost in so many times before, and hopes to many more times in the future.

“Zelda, will you marry me?”

She stares at him for a long, agonizing moment, hand held to her mouth, emotion surging across her face. Then, she laughs. She laughs and the world sings with the noise. And she swoops down and lands a kiss right on his lips.

“Was…” he croaks when his surroundings have swung back into focus and the dizzying mixture of elation and trepidation have abated somewhat, “...was that a yes?”

“Oh, Link, of course, it was! Of course!” Her hands are on his face. The ring shines on one of her fingers, though he can’t remember placing it there. Everything is a haze, a haze of wonder and joy and fear.

It looks perfect there, though. Almost as though she was born to wear it.

“I’ll marry you, Link!” She cries, visage aglow. “I would like nothing more!”

A laugh bubbles from his lips now, smaller and more hesitant, but overjoyed nonetheless. He stands and suddenly, his arms are around her and hers around him and they are hugging like the world depends upon it. Like if they let go, this moment, this delicate, beautiful moment will solidify and shatter.

Perhaps, it will. But Four likes to think that it is stronger than that. Like they are.

He blinks away the tears and smiles.

As a sword is forged to endure the struggles of time, so is their friendship made to withstand the toughest of tribulations. And that makes moments like this one even more precious.

“I love you,” she says and her very soul is in the words.

Four holds her tighter and makes himself a promise that he will never let her go. He will never allow her to fall in harm’s way again, never leave her to face life alone. No, they will stand tall through it all. Together.

“I love you too,” he whispers. “I love you too.”

#another wild fluff fic appears #two in the span of two weeks??#idk what's happening to me XD #thanks for letting me write this for you tellie <333 #i hope you liked it #and i hope your day gets better #and that tomorrow is easier and brighter #linked universe #lu four #lu dot #zelink #fluff #trin writes

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

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The Assistant 11

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, cheating, creep behaviour, violence, anger. These warnings are not exhaustive.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As an assistant at the Daily Planet, you’re rarely noticed. Until you are.

Characters: Clark Kent

Note: I expect we're near the endgame now.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Lord Farquaad loves unnecessary vowels. Take care. 💖

🖊🖊🖊

Clark lands with an impact that makes your skull rattle. Your ears ring as the world around you smears. He lets you go and you stumble away. He keeps you off balance as he grabs you again, spinning you as you whimper helplessly.

He rips your hoodie down your arms, tugging it free only to use the sleeve to restrain your wrists. He keeps you facing away from him, forcing you to your knees as he shoves his knee into your back. He puts you on your stomach and bends your legs up, securing your feet with the other sleeve so you’re facedown in the dirt.

You heave as your tears spring out unchecked. He parts from you, his soles mulching the dirt as your sobs echo. You squirm until you fall onto your side, bound helpless as you let your horror mount to frantic screams.

“Help! Someone!”

He hushes you and bends to grip your jaw. You quiet, choking on your voice as you look past him. Canopies of leaves ripple above him, you smell water nearby, a freshness that lends a coolness to the air. He snarls and drags you across the ground, placing you against the brush along the jutting rock wall.

“Scream all you want. No one out here.”

“Please, Clark, please,” you plead through pathetic babbles, “I didn’t–why– why did you– Richard—”

“You promised you loved me. That you would never hurt me–”

“I was scared–”

“You lied to me,” he growls as he paces back and forth, “you betrayed me!”

“No, no, I was just afraid. I was afraid you’d hurt me, Clark, honey, I swear–”

“Hurt you?”

“You’re married,” you whimper, “I knew we could never be together–”

“I know.” He grits out as he stops to face you, his eyes glowing eerie crimson, “you know. Lois is dead. This was our chance and you ran–”

“Dead? Clark–”

“Stop lying,” he barks, “I can hear your fucking heart amp up every time you do. So stop.”

You sniffle and shudder in the dirt. Prickly vines poke at you as you give in to the futility. You’re not getting away this time. Your lashes are webbed with tears, adding a soft glare to your vision. You look up at Clark and pout.

“I can be better… please,” you beg. “What are you going to do to me?”

He raises his chin and stares up at the sun. You murmur and curl your fingers into your palm. You wait in the deafening silence of the moment. The chitter of birds and scramble of critters is dulled by your dread.

“Make you better,” he says as he spins to face the sprawl of trees.

He clutches his fists tight and a sudden rush of air blows over you as he zips up into the sky. It feels as if the earth lurches beneath the force of his departure. You fall back against the rock wall, leaning your elbow on it as you gape up after him.

“SOMEONE!” You screech, even as you know he’s right, that no one will hear, “SOMEONE PLEASEEEEEEEE!”

🖊

Your lungs burn and your throat turns raw. You have nothing left. Your fruitless screams die as you lay in the dirt, wriggling only a few inches this way or that. Twigs and pebbles jab through your clothing and the dewy patches of grass stain the fabric.

This is it. This is the end. The sheen of disbelief slowly fades. That denial that it couldn’t be real. You are just an intern and he is just a journalist. A lonely man looking for company where he shouldn’t. No, he is a murderer. You witnessed it. You’ve seen the rage in him, you felt it, the insatiability that cannot be denied.

More than that, he is inhuman. He is something else. He is lauded as a superhero yet lurks like a villain behind the mask of Clark Kent.

You quiver and let out a deep heave. Breathless, exhausted, defeated. You let your head rest on the ground as the warmth of the sun pools over you through a gap in the branches above.

Sweat beads over your forehead and dampens your cheeks. It gathers beneath your clothing and trickles along your neck and back. You languish there in the beating of the summer heat and wait. For what comes next. For the inevitable.

As resignation sets in, your fate doesn’t seem so scary. Death is a finality. It is an end. It means that you will be free, even if that freedom is nothingness. There is relief in knowing that those weeks of torture have come to a head. You’ve met the climax and now you’re in the falling action, plummeting towards the finale.

A gust sweeps over you and the earth shakes. You let out a yipe at the flash of colour and the clatter left behind. In a second, he is gone again, whooshing up into the expanse as the din of the forest resumes. You look over at the large ax leaning against the cliffside, a hand saw beside it, and few other tools you can’t place. What?

He returns, surprising you again. The clunk of a heavy chest hits the dirt. You flinch and try to turn your body. The effort leaves you hollow as you manage to roll against the jutting rock wall.

Several more hurtling trips and Clark finally stands still, curls mussed from the excess but otherwise unshaken by his efforts. He grabs the ax as you stare at the wrapped packages of insulation, the bucket of plaster, and litany of materials. It can’t be–

He approaches a tree and swings the ax. He cuts through the trunk with a single strike. He lifts the gargantuan tree with a single arm and tosses it behind him. It bounces and rolls to a stop on the soft ground. He does it again, and again, and again. He clears at least a dozen trees without a glance or word in your direction.

You linger in stupefied silence. He approaches the pile of trees and pulls one out. He is little more than a blur as he works at breaking them down into neat planks. This has to be a nightmare. The distortion, the unreality of the moment can’t be true.

You gulp and lower your head. It makes you dizzy to watch him. You listen to the furor of his labour. The zip of the saw, the crack of the ax, and the rhythm of a hammer. When you peek over again, vision hazy with the beaming heat of the sun, there is a foundation built.

You shudder and blow out through your dry lips. You try to wet your mouth but your tongue is arid. You will against the ground, crushing your shoulder as you clench and unclench your fists.

You’re stunned by a sudden grip on your jaw that brings your head up. You nearly choke as Clark puts a bottle to your lips and pours water into your mouth. Your body gulps it down greedily as your thoughts remain disjointed and distorted.

He backs up and pulls the stump of a log over to sit across from you. He drains the last of the water and brings forward a paper bag. He doesn’t say a word as he reaches inside and takes out a granola bar. He wraps it and leans forward to offer it to you.

You stare at him. He presses it to your lips. You turn your face away.

“Eat,” he demands.

You sniff and push your head back against the side of the cliff, “why are you doing this?”

He sighs and retracts his arm. He breaks off a chunk of the bar. He doesn’t answer you.

“Clark, what are you doing?” You croak.

He gets off the log and comes closer, nearly straddling you as he drops onto his knees. He grabs your skull, turning your head straight, and forces the granola into your mouth. You murmur as he holds your jaw in place and your stare up at him with wide eyes.

“Eat.”

You don’t resist. You chew and swallow. He takes another piece and jams it through your lips; he does it again and again until the wrapper is empty. He backs up and perches again on the log.

You watch him as he looks over at his work so far. A whole wall built. It's not hard to guess at the goal, but you don’t understand why. Why doesn’t he just kill you? Like Lois. Like Richard.

“I’m building us a home,” he says as he drops his head into his hands and scratches along his hairlines, “just you and me.”

He sits up and combs his hair back. He stands and dusts off his palms. He stretches and peels off his shirt, revealing his broad chest and thickly muscled stomach. The hair along his torso speckles with his sweat.

“It must be done by nightfall,” he declares as he marches away.

You turn your attention back to the endless forest. You stare into the daunting sprawl and deflate. It isn’t a home he’s building, it’s a prison.

🖊

The house is complete. Clark carries you through the front door and puts you against the wall, just beneath the window. The interior is barren. No furniture, only a gaping fireplace and a small hoop anchored in the floor.

He unties you and stands over you, watching you as you sit up. Your shoulders and knees throb from being locked the whole day. He bends and pulls your left leg straight, he closes a metal cuff around your ankle and pushes a bolt into place. You kick your foot in fright as he lets it go and a chain clanks loudly as he lets it unfurl.

He attaches the other end to the loop in the floor. You whine and get to your knees.

“Clark, please, what are you doing?”

“I can’t trust you,” he sneers, “it’s for your own good…” he stands and looks above you, to the window, “you would only get lost out there.”

“No, please, you can trust me–”

He raises his hand and you quiet. You sit back on your heels and clasp your hands together. He shakes his head and waves you off, striding away without another word. He goes through the open door as you focus on the chain, touching the links in dread.

He returns and unzips a sleeping bag, spreading it over the floor. He leaves again, coming back with pillows and another blanket. He backs up, hands on his hips and looks over the makeshift set up.

“Tomorrow I will find a bed. Other things,” he turns and approaches the fireplace, resting his hand on the mantle above, “I will start a fire for the night. It’ll be cold soon.”

You want to scream. You want to wail. You want to call him a monster, tell him that he’s insane. But you know that won’t make this any better. You let go of the chain and raise yourself on your knees. You crawl on the blankets and make yourself small as you sit against the pillows.

“Thank you, Clark,” you squeak as you pull off your shoes and place them to the side.

He keeps his back to you, bowing his head as he sighs. Slowly, he shifts and glances over his shoulder. His eyes meet yours and he drags his hand off the mantle. He faces you as you carefully recline.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he says grimly, “but it has to be like this. Just for now.”

“I know,” you say as you wince and rub your shoulder.

He sniffs and reluctantly turns away. His steps are lighter as he goes back through the door, returning with an armful of split logs. He stacks them by the fireplace before he works at starting a fire. You listen to his efforts and close your eyes. Only to hide, not to sleep.

The scent of the fire fills the cabin and he pulls the door shut. He nears and his shadow looms over you. He tugs on the blanket as he climbs down next to you and swoops it over you as he wraps an arm over your middle. He draws you closer, his breath fanning across your hair.

“I know you’re scared but one day, you’ll see,” he rumbles as he bends his arm, fondling your chest. Your stomach knots as he presses his pelvis flush to you, “I saved you… like you saved me.”

His hand trails down and you hold your breath. His fingertips touch the top of your jeans and he pauses. He brushes his arm back up and embraces you again.

“Not tonight,” he resigns glumly, “I don’t forgive you yet.”

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #fic #the assistant #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dc #superman

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