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take-it-on-the-run · 3 months

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Not A Lot, Just Forever

Dean Winchester x Pregnant!Reader

After throwing up morning after morning, the reader discovers her illness isn't what she initially thought.

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: Pregnancy, unexpected pregnancy, brief description of motel bathrooms, vomiting (repeated), self-blame, mention of reader's mother dying in childbirth, mention of childbirth related deaths, anxiety, brief loss of consciousness, Dean is a sweetheart and will make a great father.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Pregnant!Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel

@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! I'm not sure if I already sent you this request, or if I sent it to someone else (oops🤭) but could I request a Sam Winchester and/or Dean Winchester x reader (your choice which one of them, if not both sepperately) where he helps reader deal with morning sickness, though he only finds out she's pregnant on the third day in a row that he's with her while she throws up. Ty!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Adrianne Lenker title. I really really loved this request! I feel like writing the pregnancy trope is a sort of hard task to do, so I hope I brought it justice. I love love loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you for the request @ghostlyaccurate, and I promise I'm trying my damnedest to work through my inbox <3. Every mistake here is completely and 100% my own and of my own doing. (P.S. can you guess how hard it was to find "aesthetic" pictures of a bathroom and pregnancy tests for the pictures for this fic?? I think the ones I found actually work pretty well! Another thing, what happened to the yellow text color? I use it to tag fluff fics, and it's gone :( ).

Dean Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Your head hung over the foul toilet bowl of whatever motel you, Dean, and Sam were holed up in, and a rancid smell invaded your nose. In earnest, you didn’t have the slightest idea where you were. The past couple of hours had been filled with a slight fever and the constant need to use Dean as a pillow. Halfway through the drive between towns, you convinced him to switch out driving with Sam so he could join you in the back seat.

The worn tile of the bathroom floor offered you minimal comfort, and the fact you’re supposed to be up for a case in two hours made your stomach churn over again. Ditching your normal avoidance of motel bathrooms, you gripped the edge of the toilet and emptied your stomach again.

“Y/N?” Dean’s groggy voice called out from behind the door, “Are you okay in there sweetheart?”

You squeezed your eyes together, cursing yourself for being loud enough to wake him up. Sneaking out from his arms was a feat enough already, trying to suppress the sound of you losing your guts at four in the morning wasn’t going to happen; even in a perfect world.

“No,” you groaned as he softly opened the door, “I feel like shit De, and you know how much I hate throwing up. And how much I hate motel bathrooms.” You whined. Your hair was falling to the front of your face and you were cursing whoever decided a bathroom didn’t need a working air vent.

Dean hummed softly, pulling the hair back from your face and holding it with one hand as he sat behind you on the floor. He pressed his lips to the back of your head softly, and gently traced shapes on your collarbone as you laid back on him.

“Just breathe, I’ve got you if you need to go at it again.” He said softly, cradling you in his lap as you tried to breathe. He ran his hand through your hair as your breathing started to hiccup less, and eventually, he sat you on the closed toilet lid to get you water.

You felt ashamed to be keeping him up at this hour. Your phone clock read 5:13 AM, almost an hour past when you’d originally gotten up. He already doesn’t get enough sleep as is, and here you are sitting, waiting for him to get back like you aren’t able to take care of yourself.

“Here you go, drink slowly. Did you use the mouthwash I gave you?” He asked as he handed you his water bottle. He stood across from you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants. You nodded softly, gratefully gulping down the contents of the bottle.

The bags under his eyes were already enough to make you feel guilty. Hunters were used to running on minimal sleep, but with you around, he’d just gotten into the six-hour range. He rubbed his face, inhaling like he normally did when he was trying to make a decision. You didn’t want to go out for the case. You barely wanted to move your body to get back in bed and salvage what little sleep you could before life kicked you back into gear.

“Do you want to stay here while Sam and I talk to the family?” Dean asked as if he could read your mind.

I love you so damn much. You thought, bowing your head with a sigh of relief. You didn’t want to be the one to bring up staying in; neither of you ever wanted to admit you needed breaks, but if the other one was to bring it up, it made the process easier.

You nodded, pushing yourself to your feet as he opened the door for the two of you, “yeah, I think that’s best for all of us. Don’t need me puking in the victim’s bathroom as you guys ask your questions.” You tried to joke as you and Dean crawled back into bed, tucking yourself into his arms, and splaying your legs haphazardly on top of his.

The next morning wasn’t any better.

Sam and Dean had come home late from questioning the family, and you were barely aware of them unloading the Chinese food they brought for you. Dean sat with you against his chest, still half-dressed as an FBI agent, as you wolfed down the egg rolls he got. You found yourself starving when they offered you food, but now you regretted eating anything at all.

You found yourself hung over the toilet again, but thankfully only had to put up with one round of saying goodbye to your lunch. You were able to get yourself up and over to the sink, where you repeated Dean’s routine from the morning before.

You leaned against the counter in the small kitchen, Dean’s water bottle filled with tap water in your hand. You turned to dump the rest in the sink when the creak of a floorboard behind you had you spinning on your heel in record time.

“Jesus Christ, Dean. Why are you up?” You asked in a hushed tone, placing your hand over your racing chest.

“I could ask you the same thing,” He crossed the small room and came over to embrace you in his arms, “did you get sick again?” He asked innocently, but the combination of those words, and the pitiful shift of his eyes was enough to make you feel like a child. You were a grown woman, you knew damn well how to take care of yourself much before the Winchesters were in your life.

You huffed in annoyance, pulling back from Dean’s chest. You felt your face begin to heat up, and it felt like anything Dean could say had the chance to send you over the edge.

“Yes, I did. Right now, I feel like my body is too hot and too tight for my bones, and I also feel like anything you say is going to make me hit the roof. Even if it’s nice, I just don’t think my brain can take in any more words without wanting to jump ship.” You said you rubbed your temples. Things like this had happened occasionally in the past, and before Dean, you figured it was just because you were a rigid person. One night a particularly bad migraine had led to you yelling at him because he offered to get you some medicine. Instead of just leaving you to stew, like every other partner did, he simply asked you to explain what you were feeling. No judgment, no interruptions, and he’d do whatever you said would make you feel better in that moment.

Now, whenever you felt overwhelmed, he did the same. He’d swallow any sarcastic comment or solution to your problem and listen to you. No matter what was bothering you, at whatever hour of the day, he was at your side, doing what you asked of him without hesitation.

He just nodded, pressing his lips to your forehead before he led you back to the bed you two were sharing for the case. His body threw off heat like a bonfire, and your normally freezing hands were appreciative of that. In this moment, however, it felt like you were burning from the inside out.

You adjusted yourself between the sheet and the comforter, so the two of you could still touch without pressing your skin together. Dean waited for you to still before he made himself comfy, and he gently ran his fingers through the ends of your hair.

“Is this okay right now? Do you want me to leave you be?” He asked, in as soft of a voice as he could. You hummed, smiling at the tingling sensation running through you. Comfort, and a warmth that wasn’t burning to the touch, crawled up your back, and into your head. You tried to focus your eyes for a couple of seconds more, but without your control, they forcefully fluttered shut.

“Y/N.”

Sheet tangled between your limbs, and you could see the light through your closed eyes. Opening them, you find an unexpected sight. Instead of Dean, or Sam, standing at your bedside, the trench coat-clad angel you’d met five years ago.

“Cas,” you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, “what are you doing here? Where’s Sam and Dean?” You asked.

Cas sighed and sat at the end of your bed. He shot you a quick look, before focusing his eyes on the blank wall in front of him. He tapped his fingers on his legs, a habit he picked up from Sam.

“Dean called me and told me you were sick. I came in, and told him I’d try and cure whatever… ailment is afflicting you.”

You smiled at the way he spoke, and the fact Dean went out of his way to try and help you out, but there was something off about Castiel’s demeanor. You sat up and touched his arm to get his attention.

“Cas, what’s wrong? Did something happen that I should know about?” You asked softly.

“I think you’re pregnant, Y/N.” He looked at you, and there was a rift of guilt lingering in his eyes.

A course of confusion and shock coursed through your body before you felt a rotting pit settle at the bottom of your stomach.

“Why would you… think that, Cas?” You felt a tightness taking over your throat, rubbing your hand across your neck to try and loosen it.

“I can sense life forms. Human ones, at least. It was hard to tell with Sam and Dean here, but once they left I was able to confirm my suspicions.”

Your hand traveled to your lower abdomen before your mouth spat out a request without thinking.

“Pregnancy tests. Can you get me some, please? I just,” you ran your hand across your forehead quickly, “I want to confirm, using non-magical means.”

Cas nodded, “of course. I’m going to assume you don’t want me to let Dean know?”

You nodded your head before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Deep down, you knew Cas was right. You were late by a few days, but you’d chalked it up to the illness that’s kept you on the bench for this case. You didn’t usually react as poorly as you’ve been to an illness, even when you’d gotten a terrible case of Pneumonia.

Getting up from the bed, you walked into the bathroom as Castiel vanished to get you a couple tests. Looking to the mirror, you’re met with a form of you that was a little scary; purple, slightly-puffy eyes, smeared makeup that hadn’t been washed off from days before, and your skin was breaking out in places it hadn’t before.

Dean hadn’t said a word about it, but even someone as blissfully ignorant as him had to have noticed the way your face wasn’t looking like your own.

Dean.

You’d have to tell Dean you were pregnant, with his child. That you’re going to be parents.

What if he didn’t want to be a father at thirty-six?

Children weren’t one hundred percent out of the question, but they were longer down the line in hunters’ lives. If you were lucky enough to get out of the life unscathed and find someone who would want to settle down with, you’d likely be creeping into your mid-forties, at best. Mary had gotten lucky with John, but now they’d both been taken away by the thing they’d spent half of their marriage avoiding.

What if you weren’t ready to be a mother at thirty-five?

For you, it wasn’t the question of wanting to have kids, but you never saw you or your boyfriend backing out from hunting anytime soon. To add on, you’d heard of many nasty births that ended in fatality for the infant or the mother, including your own. Every time you and the boys were on a case involving a child, you’d be extra reckless. Dean picked this up within the first couple of times you’d almost gotten yourself killed to save a kid, and you explained your fear to him. The fear of a mother not being able to welcome her child home in her arms, or the child not seeing his mother again, and their fate lying in your hands. You’d already ripped apart your family, and you tried your damnedest to keep as many together as possible.

A ruffle of feathers and a sharp knock on the bathroom door snapped you out of your thoughts.

“You can come in, Cas.”

Wordlessly, the angel stepped into the small motel bathroom holding a plastic bag. He pulled out three different pregnancy tests and set them on the counter.

“The woman working there said I should get a couple just in case one doesn’t work like it should.” He said as you picked up the first test. “I’m telling the truth, but I understand you wanting to confirm this to yourself.”

I know Cas, you thought, but you didn’t say a word. Instead, you stared at him, waiting for him to leave the bathroom, but he had a blank look on his face and didn’t move a muscle.

“Cas, I’m going to need you to leave the bathroom for me to do this.”

“Oh, sorry. Of course. I forgot how ‘hands-on’ human tests can be. I apologize.” He said blatantly before stepping out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

Fuck me.

That’s what got you into this in the first place, dumb ass.

After twenty disgustingly long minutes in the decrepit motel bathroom, you walked out holding four positive tests. Cas was sitting on Sam’s bed, staring out the window, but immediately stood up and crossed the room to you. You handed him the tests, and he placed them on the table between the two beds.

“How do you feel?” He asked. Another thing he picked up from his years on earth was the ability to know when to ask what questions.

You felt blank. Void of answers and solutions to the situation at hand. Whether or not to turn left, or right.

“I… don’t know what to do, Cas.” Your voice broke along with the tears you were holding back, and a sinking feeling of hopelessness began to dig its way through your head.

Neither you nor Dean are ready to be parents. What if Dean’s angry? He would never kick you out of the bunker. The bunker is the only real home any of you have had in a long time, but is it safe? Is the world safe enough to bring a baby into? A Winchester baby, who would no doubt be a target from birth. What if the baby doesn’t make it to full term? What if this baby kills you like you killed your own mother?

“Y/N,” Cas placed his hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to ask you to take a breath.” He drew his hand up and waited for you to inhale. Taking in a shuddered breath, you followed the flow of his hand, stopping your heart from running up your throat.

“Thank you.” You said, sitting down on your bed and grabbing the pregnancy tests off the nightstand. Two pluses, two double lines. You and Dean were careful and used a condom whenever you found extra time together, but somehow God decided that rubber wasn’t going to work as intended.

“I think I’m going to just lay here,” you tuck yourself under the bed sheets once more, the tests shoved into your pajama pants, “and wait for Dean and Sam to get home. I’ll get him out of this stuffy ass room and tell him in private. Sam shouldn’t have to witness if we- if we argue. I know it makes him feel awful.”

“That’s a smart plan. You need to take this one step at a time and do it carefully. I know Dean cares for you deeply, but if you need someone to support you, all you have to do is call for me.” Cas squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“Thank you, Cas.” You yawned, pulling your body further under the covers of the bed. Castiel smiled slightly, before turning away and disappearing with a familiar rush of wings flapping.

Your body was covered head to toe in sweat, and the bed sheet you wrapped around yourself was thrown onto the floor. No light entered the room, and the time on the alarm clock read 1:43. Your stomach churned in a familiar way, and as you got to your feet you finally noticed neither of the boys were in the room.

You clambered to the bathroom, phone in hand, trying to call Dean. One hand braced on the toilet, and the other tried to thumb down to his contact. There wasn’t any time to think about the fact you were carrying a baby inside of you, the baby whose father is missing in the middle of the night with no calls or messages.

They always call. You thought before you set your ringing phone on the floor to throw up for the first time that morning. The phone rang, the sound slowly driving you insane each time you redialed Dean’s number between dry heaving into the bowl.

Your hair was sticking to your forehead, poorly swept away and held back by a rubber band you found on the sink. The heat, the pain, and the fear of losing contact with the Winchester brothers combined with the reality of you being pregnant was finally built up enough to break the swarm of emotions you barely choked down when Cas was in the room earlier.

Eyes burning, you slumped against the sink cabinet and brought your phone to your ear as you called Dean once again. You let out a sob, tears rushing down your face and neck, leaving behind a slightly burning trail. Your breathing became uneven, the sound of your own heart drumming through your ears drowning out the ring of your phone. Letting your phone slip to the floor, you brought your knees to your chest and folded your arms as a nest for your forehead.

Neither of the boys called within the twenty minutes you were in the bathroom, your phone was now close to being dead, and no muscle in your body wanted to obey your brain telling them to move and do something. You weren’t a weak woman, you took the cards you were dealt and tried your best to win, but sometimes all you could do was fold.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

A hand pulled your face from your knees, and you could barely see with the light of the bathroom now on and blinding you. A warm hand rested against your cheek while another briefly touched your forehead.

“Help me get her up, Sammy,” your eyes fluttered closed and you felt two arms hook under both your arms, laying them over shoulders as your feet lightly dragged across the floor.

“I’ve never seen her this bad, Dean.” The voice you now recognized as Sam said. Your legs were swept up from under you and you were laid on the bed you’d crawled out of.

You felt the tests still pressing in your pockets, and you thanked whatever greater being was willing to listen. There was no way you wanted to Dean to discover that information on accident.

Dean.

The other voice was Dean.

You moron, who else would it be?

The bed next to you dipped down, and you felt a gentle hand tuck a few stray hairs behind one of your ears. The sweat covering you was sucking every inch of clothing to your skin, and all you wanted to do was peel either of the pair off.

“I thought Cas was going to come here and help her out,” you heard his voice straining as he spoke, and you felt your heart snap in two.

You moved your hand, as heavy as it felt, and squeezed the first part of him you touched.

“Sweetheart,” you could feel Dean’s breath as he hovered over you, “you’re scaring me here.”

“Cas…” you gave out a heavy cough, “he came. He helped me figure out what’s been happening.”

A glass of water was brought to your mouth, and you took every drop of it. After swallowing the cup, your eyes finally were able to open. You were greeted by a worried Dean hovering very close to you, and a worried Sam crossing back from the kitchen holding Dean’s water bottle.

Sam set the bottle on the bedside table and sat on his bed, facing you and Dean. Dean’s attention was solely on you. His hands grabbed both sides of your face and brought his lips to your forehead, before resting against it.

“Hey,” you said, chuckling slightly, “I didn’t mean to scare you, De. You, or Sam.” You sat yourself up in bed.

“Did Cas tell you what’s wrong?” Sam asked, looking at you expectantly.

“He did, but… is it okay if I talk to Dean? Alone?” You asked softly.

Sam shot Dean a look, which Dean promptly returned with one that had Sam standing up, and walking into the hall.

Orange rays of light shone from the window of the room, and you could just barely see the sun climbing on the horizon. Dean moved to hold you in bed while you gained the composure to tell him you were both parents.

“Dean…” you breathed steadily, trying to even your heartbeat that was ramping up once more, “I have to tell you something-”

“I kinda gathered as much sweetheart,” he said lightly, lines forming around his forest-lorn eyes beautifully.

“- it’s important. I mean, it’s going to change our lives, for the rest of our lives.”

Dean’s face became more serious, pulling you to face him as he crossed his legs.

“You know you can tell me anything, Y/N.”

Do it, now. Just say-

“I’m pregnant.”

The air hung heavy around the pair of you as you handed him the tests in your pocket, and you could see the clocks turn in Dean’s mind as he stared down at them.

“But we used a rubber?” He said, and you could guess where his thoughts were wandering.

“We did, but you’re the only person I’ve been with for years, Dean, I need you to believe me when I say that.” You said reassuringly as you could without sounding like you were lying.

His face broke into a small smile, and he brought his thumb to trace over your lower cheek, “I know, sweetheart. I trust you with my heart, I just know not to use that brand anymore, seems like their effectiveness is questionable.”

You laughed, tears drying in your eyes as you pushed at him playfully, “Dean! You gave me a heart attack, you son of a bitch!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay!” He laughed, capturing you in a giant bear hug and rolling you on top of him. You looked down at him and brought your lips down to his.

“You’re going to be a father,” you said, beaming at him while smiling the hardest you’d ever in the longest time

“You’re going to be a mother,” he replied, smiling just as hard. Your face fell slightly, and the word mother finally kicked into your head. “Hey,” Dean said as he saw your face shift, somehow remembering the story you told him all those years ago, “Remember, we’ve got an angel on speed dial, and you know how hard it is to take out a Winchester.”

Your heart warmed at the statement, the baby inside of you was just as much L/N as it was Winchester. You loved Dean with your heart, as did he love you, and now the two of you were going to brace the dangerous world you’d spent years protecting with the amalgamation of that love.

You brought Dean’s hand to your stomach as he brought his other hand to your face. His calloused fingers were gentle on your skin, and small crinkles formed around his eyes as he smiled, holding his hand at your stomach as you gazed back at him.

A knock sounded at the door, making you turn your head around before you and Dean burst into laughter, and told Sam he could come back in the room to tell him the news.

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x pregnant!reader #dean winchester smut #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction

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angelicsoka · 7 months

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LAZY (SICKLY) MORNINGS AND MARRIAGE PROPOSALS, q. hughes

word count | 577 words

pairings | quinn hughes x reader

summary | where a common cold turns to the flu leaving quinn and his girlfriend to cancel their plans, leading to a lazy (sickly) valentines morning and a marriage proposal

warnings | descriptions of vomit and other sickly bodily fluids. not proofread. no use of “y/n”. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.

a/n | i was gonna post this for valentine’s day but never actually got around to writing it lmao, but here it is now!

a groan filled the silent room, followed by someone hurriedly throwing the blanket off of them and running to the bathroom. the sound of heaving could be heard as the other person rolled out of bed and hurried to the bathroom to help.

quinn rubbed her back with one hand, the other making a makeshift ponytail with her hair as she vomited what little of what remained in her stomach. she sat back against the wall once she had finished, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“you okay?” she shook her head no at quinn’s question, fearful if she spoke she would begin to heave once more. “let me get you some water.”

she rarely got sick, but when she did it was bad. she gratefully accepted the glass, sipping lightly. it eased the burning in her throat enough for her to speak, “you really shouldn’t be by me, quinny. the team can’t have their captain out sick.” she coughed roughly, trying to clear the flem from her throat.

“i’ve already told you: they can handle a game or two without me. i want to make sure you're okay.” he tried to conceal his own cough as him just clearing his throat, but she knew.

“damnit, i knew you would get sick. i told you!” she tried to come off as angry but she was too tired to portray an emotion she didn’t actually feel. quinn helped her off the ground, the two moseying their way back to bed. she sighed contently when her head hit the soft pillow, shivering slightly as she curled into the blankets. she began to shiver more as quinn got settled, unable to find warmth.

“cold?” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. she moved as close as she physically could, in search of warmth from him. she hummed as she settled in his arms, her boyfriend placing a gentle kiss on her head. “well, this is one way to spend valentine’s day.”

“don’t remind me.” she muttered, turning slightly to look at him. “i’m sorry i’m sick. i know how hard it was to get that reservation and you got me that nice dress and–” quinn shushed her quietly, placing yet another kiss, this time on her shoulder.

“don’t worry about it.” she turned over fully to face him. “it does have me thinking though.”

“yeah?” quinn smiled softly at her. “about what?”

“about how i want to spend the rest of my life with you, ya know, through sickness and health and all that shit.” she giggled, a hint of confusion on her face. they had talked about marriage and family but she had thought he wasn’t ready.

“what are you saying?”

“i guess i’m saying– well asking, will you marry me?” she felt the oxygen leave her lungs for a moment, before a smile broke out on her face.

“hell yeah,” she watched him smile widely. “god, i love you.”

“i love you so much, baby, so goddamn much.” quinn leaned in to kiss her, only to be stopped by her placing her finger on his lips.

“you can kiss me after i brush my teeth.” quinn pouted, earning a small giggle before she paled. “fuck.” she rolled out of his grasp, getting up and taking off toward the bathroom once more. it may not have been the most conventional way of proposing but neither party would have it any other way.

#angelicsoka #nhl imagine #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 8 months

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Series Masterlist

Blood Ties Chapter 15

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; vomiting; pregnancy; pregnancy complications; allusions to child abuse. A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than most of the others but I’m actually super content with it. I’ve altered Daryl’s idiolect to somewhere I feel a little more comfortable. I hope it still stays true to the character. Lots of feels. Buckle up.

Apparently, sleep had been in the cards for you after all. There were four things you noticed immediately upon waking.

Firstly, there was a comforting ache between your legs that reminded you of the events of the previous night. You could still feel Daryl’s bare skin against yours, sweat-slick and new. You were aware he didn’t give that part of himself easily. You felt privileged. Your newfound revelation of your love for him felt validated. Still, you urged your mind onward.

Secondly, Daryl was nowhere to be seen, along with Rick, Glenn, and Maggie. They must have left for the run already. You fought against the disappointment of not being able to see the archer before he’d gone. He wouldn’t have woken you. You knew that, but that did little to settle the discontentment of not seeing him off.

Thirdly, a warmth was secured around your upper half in the form of one of Daryl’s button-up shirts. You chuckled quietly, considering how the gesture was one that was likely born out of concern and consideration but allowed yourself to entertain that it could have more than that. A desire to protect you and his child, ensure your comfort, as if wrapping you in something of his somehow marked you as off limits.

And finally, you had to pee. The basic bodily function had been enough of an inconvenience before a small weight had been added above your bladder. Now, it appeared that your life was nothing outside of eating, vomiting, crying, and urinating. You were still trying to discern where the beautiful part of pregnancy might be hiding.

“Good morning.”

You sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before waiting as they focused on Carol. You returned the greeting while stretching, your muscles giving up their sleep-induced stiffness.

“Not much to eat but I saved you some beans. Are you hungry?”

You shook your head while, at the same time, scratching your blunt nails over your scalp. “I really need to pee though.” You eased Daryl’s shirt away from where it had pooled, folding it into a square on your lap. There was a brief chuckle from Carol that had you looking up quizzically.

“I wish you could have seen him making sure you were okay before he left.” Your cheeks reddened, heat rising all the way to your ears. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.” The woman held out a hand. You took it and pulled yourself up, the warmth in your skin beginning to fade. As an afterthought, you grabbed Daryl’s shirt and unfolded it. It fit loosely over your flannel and shirt, providing a little more warmth against the morning chill.

“I hope they are able to find more clothes. The wind cuts right through these damn pants.” You weren’t really intending to make conversation during the walk just inside the treeline but the silence after she had confirmed Daryl’s softness toward you had felt overbearing.

“It was probably even colder without them.”

It took a minute for her words to sink in and then you stopped, feigning confusion even after the hint of pink covering your face surely gave you away. “What are you talking about?”

Carol laughed, a quiet sound, and stepped forward to barely move aside the three layers over your collarbone. “He left a reminder for you.” You really were confused for a moment before you were presented with the pleasant memory of his teeth clamping down above your collarbone and the intense orgasm that followed.

“How do you know it wasn’t a walker?” You knew your attempt would be fruitless and cringed at the absurdity of your question. There was a relief when she didn’t even embarrass you further by answering. “Don’t tell anyone?”

“I didn’t tell them you were pregnant. I won’t tell them you’re sleeping with your baby’s father.” Carol grinned at your expression, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “I’ll wait here.”

You were dry heaving against the far end of the wall when you heard the roar of Daryl’s motorcycle signal the group’s return. Carol had finally insisted you try to eat something and you conceded, barely finishing the last bite before scrambling away from the fire to vomit only a few feet away. After that, it was a losing battle that you didn’t have the energy to fight.

“Y’okay?”

Smiling through bouts of retching had not been on your bingo card for the year, but there you were. His warm hand came to rest against your spine. You sagged with a sigh, barely holding yourself up.

“Yeah.” Your voice was rough. Clearing your throat, you sat back on your heels and tried again. “Yeah, I’m okay.” The back of your hand rubbed across your mouth to wipe away traces of saliva before you allowed yourself to look at him. “Jesus, Daryl!” The archer was covered in grime and guts, a darkening bruise on his right cheekbone and a still weeping cut above his left eyebrow.

“M’fine. Ran into some trouble. Handled it.”

When your hand reached for his chin, he didn’t shy away, letting you turn his head one way and then the other. “Looks more like it handled you.” The archer scoffed and swatted at your arm. With a sigh, you braced yourself on shaky arms to force yourself up, caught off guard by his fingers pinching the three fabrics that covered you to pull them aside like Carol had earlier. You didn’t expect to see such a deep frown when you brought your attention to his face.

Pursing your lips, you sat back down and pulled down the collar of his undershirt, relieved that he had taped gauze over the wound you had opened on him. “I think I win, tiger. Besides, it doesn’t even hurt.”

“Don’t make it alright.”

You shrugged. “It does if I liked it.” You were hoping that would bring him some calm but that endeavor was cut short when you lurched to the side to once again heave futility. Daryl would find no protest when he scooped you up after you’d finished, saving you the journey back to the fireside.

Your feet touched the ground just as everyone came into view. Did he not want them to see him carrying you?

“Uh, here.” The archer’s fingers shook as he gently lifted your wrist and began to fit some sort of bracelet on it. “Couldn’t find the meds. M’sorry. Tried like hell. Turned that place upside down.” He looked so disappointed in himself.

You examined the piece, a light pink band with symmetrically placed metal circles that fit snug, but not painfully so, against your skin. It was a strange piece of jewelry. “It’s pretty.” You stated honestly, not really knowing what you were supposed to say. The gift was appreciated and you liked it in all its uniqueness. It was just that Daryl offering you an apology in the form of a gift was new, for lack of a better term.

The bowman snorted. “S’posed to use pressure points to help keep ya from feelin’ so sick.”

Somehow, that meant even more than an apology. He couldn’t find what you needed so he searched out an alternative. You were almost willing to bet that’s why he looked roughed up compared to the mere dirt and walker guts you could make out on the other three.

“Ain’t gonna stop lookin’ though. M’a find that medicine for ya.”

You smiled at him, heartfelt and genuine. “You’ll find it and Thumper’ll be just fine.”

“Ain’t just—” Daryl trailed off, scratching at the back of head while not meeting your eyes. “Ain’t just ‘bout the kid, y’know.” You blinked, your eyes filling. Though some of his actions had hinted at it, hearing him say it was something else entirely.

“Daryl, I—”

“Y/N!” Maggie was beaming at you while jogging over, immediately wrapping a soft hand around your forearm. “Come see!” She encouraged, all teeth and bright eyes. You glanced back to find Daryl already disappearing into the dark, the moment clearly over.

You let yourself mourn it even as you plastered on a smile and turned back to allow her to lead you to the others. A short distance from the fire, a plethora of items were littered across a blanket. The eldest Greene daughter had already relinquished her hold and knelt above the supplies.

“What is all this?”

“Well,” Glenn chuckled from beside Maggie. “Daryl had a list. We searched for medicine and clothes and food but that guy was in full dad mode.” Your heart fluttered but you continued to listen. “He had all this loaded by the time we came out with the other stuff.”

“We couldn’t find the meds though. Not yet but we’re going to stop in other places. We did find some IV bags and tubing though!” Her big eyes flitted down to the bracelet you were toying with unconsciously. “He went back in for those.” Maggie’s expression was incredibly soft. “We heard some other people. And there were walkers. We were loading the last of everything and he was just gone.”

“Looked like hell when he came out but had a bag of about ten of those things.” Glenn gestured to your wrist. “He didn’t know if they expired and really, we didn’t know what they were but he did. He said you might need them for a while after the baby comes.”

You were on the verge of tears, your hand closing around the contraption Daryl had fought so hard to secure. Maggie was already showing you clothing she had acquired, mentioning that you and Lori would need them. There were boots and sneakers, a size larger than you usually wore. Bras, only regular ones. Nursing bras were a no-go but it would be a while before you needed those. They found few actual maternity items but things in larger sizes and some men’s items that could be used.

“And then all this stuff Daryl grabbed. He said he didn’t know if he’d ever find it all again so he took all he could.” Rick had remained quiet up to that point, refusing to meet Lori’s eyes as he spoke. Definitely trouble in that paradise.

The blanket held things you weren’t even sure about. Maggie explained the manual breast pump. There were bottles, nipples, pacifiers, orajel, one container of infant Tylenol, a container of infant gas relief drops, two packs of newborn diapers, three packs of wipes, several baby blankets, three healthcare kits, some clothes that were just so, so tiny. You were simply overwhelmed. Daryl, the provider for the group, had ventured off alone to find all he could think of for the baby, leaving the others to find supplies for the here and now.

“How are we gonna haul all of this if something happens to the cars?” You bit down on your lip after speaking, still fighting the sting in your eyes.

“I guess he thought of that too.” Glenn jerked his head to the right where several backpacks were piled up. “He said between all of us, we can keep everything here as well as any supplies the adults need.” It went unsaid how you all held onto hope that you’d have a safe place to stay by then.

“Wow. How many places did you clear?”

“Four.” The young man answered immediately. “Dude had an agenda. He wasn’t coming back until he had everything on his list.”

“Oh! Here!” Maggie grabbed a thick winter coat and held it out. “He said you needed this. It was one of the things he refused to come back without.”

You were still stunned, swallowing it down behind feigned delight. “Okay, gimme some of those clothes.”

Daryl was leaning against a tree when you found him. You were in much warmer clothes and bundled deep inside the warm jacket that left plenty of room for the belly you’d be sporting soon enough.

“Hey.” You greeted. He didn’t turn but grunted in reply. “Thanks for this.” You watched his eyes slide over when you gestured to the coat.

“Warm enough?”

“I feel like I am legitimately baking a bun in the oven.” You smiled brightly when he deadpanned at you with a mumbled stop. “Seriously, though. Thank you. For this,” you pulled up your sleeves to show him the anti-nausea bracelet, “and for this.”

He glanced over but then back out to the quiet wooded area. “It workin’?”

You shrugged. “I threw up lunch but then I’ve kept water down so far.” His blue eyes finally turned to you and studied, sliding down and back, before he jerked his chin up in a nod and looked away yet again. Something was bothering him. That much was obvious. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm.” Daryl reached for the bag at his feet, pulling out a carton of cigarettes. He opened one end and pulled a pack free before dropping the box back into the bag. You could hear the plastic tear and the flick of the zippo but your eyes were on something else.

Breaking the Cycle of Abuse: How to Move Beyond Your Past to Create an Abuse-free Future

You didn’t notice him move until he was zipping the bag with more force than necessary, moving it out of your sight as if you had X-ray vision.

“You won’t be like them.” You didn’t know who had hurt him. Though he’d allowed you to see him without the thin armor of his shirt, he hadn’t offered any information. Not that there had been time. He sent you off to bed, took watch alone, and he was already gone before you even woke up.

He took a long drag off the cigarette. “Don’t act like ya know anythin’ ‘bout it.” He stated evenly, smoke flowing from his mouth behind every word. It was difficult but you didn’t let his words sting.

“I really don’t. My daddy was amazing. My mom wasn’t a monster. She was just—weak. Never had a boyfriend hit me or anything.” A hand came to rest on his shoulder but he shrugged it off. “But I can listen if you want to talk about it.”

“Nah. Ain’t needin’ my head shrunk.”

You noticed immediately that he gave no indication as to any of the people you mentioned being the one in his life to hurt him. There was so much you didn’t know about Daryl. So much he didn’t know about you. If one of you died after the baby came, how could the other possibly tell the story of the other parent with so many missing pieces.

“Daryl?”

“What?” The archer didn’t snap at you but there was an underlying annoyance that you couldn’t miss if you tried.

You sighed. “Nothing.” Tell me everything. “I think there should be food ready if we head back now. Corned beef hash, if I read the can correctly.” What are we?

“Ain’t hungry but you g’on. Ya need to eat. Need the food just s’much as the baby does.” It was a valiant but failed effort to offer you his portion of the meal.

“You need it too.” Daryl looked so tired but it wasn’t just physical exhaustion. He had been racking his brain for anything that could make your life easier now and after the birth. A break was necessary. “And you need to sleep.”

“Said I ain’t hungry. Ain’t tired neither.”

“Bullshit.” Your patience was wearing thin, whether from hormones or just the simple grating of his petulance on your last nerve. “Not gonna beg you. Do what you want but I would feel a hell of a lot better if you’d take as much care of yourself as you try to for me and the baby.” You made a show of stomping away, hoping that he’d see how he was affecting you.

The warmth of the fire began warming you within the coat before you had fully reached it. Carol was already filling a bowl for you and holding it out by the time you sat down. “Thank you.” The woman smiled and nodded, returning her focus to her own helping. You took a moment to regard the state of your stomach. It was uneasy, but only slightly. The abundant smells of food, burning wood, and a hint of body odor from close proximity weren’t making it worse. You decided to take the risk and shoveled a bite into your mouth.

You had managed less than a third of the bowl when Daryl emerged from the shadows, nodding at Rick when they passed one another, the latter taking up watch with his bowl in hand. The hunter’s crossbow was placed on the ground before he took a seat next to you, your shoulders nearly touching. It was a gesture of vulnerability that the group either didn’t pick up on or didn’t care enough to acknowledge. But you did.

Your bowl was placed in front of your criss-crossed legs so you could reach out and silently beckon Carol to fill another. Nodding your thanks, you offered it to Daryl, smiling in the face of his sneer. He wasn’t unaffected by your blatant desire to care for him, his distaste evident but not aggressive. He accepted the food and wasted no time before digging in, visibly forcing himself not to inhale the meal.

He had been hungry. An invisible force squeezed your heart. He was already making sacrifices for his family, regardless of wherever it was the two of you stood. He was choosing you as a priority, eager for your health and comfort at the cost of his own. You’d have to watch him or he’d run himself into the ground.

There wasn’t much left after a single serving for everyone but it was an unspoken agreement that what remained would be for you, Lori, or Carl. You managed to make it through most of your own serving, adding a little more on top while leaving enough for the kid and his mom to split the rest. You forced another two bites to at least support the appearance of initially wanting more. You hadn’t. You did want the archer to have more. He was careful to conceal it but you knew without asking that he had either trimmed his own portions of the few meals the group had managed or turned it down all together. And that simply wouldn’t do.

You maneuvered your bowl above his in preparation to rake what you hadn’t eaten on top of what he was still working through. He pulled back, brow furrowed. “Eyes were bigger than my appetite.” You shrugged.

“Give it to one’a them.” Daryl jerked his chin across the fire, holding your gaze while taking another bite.

“There’s enough left for them. I want you to have this.” The tension that followed was brief. He gave in rather easily, offering his bowl with a heaved sigh. You didn’t gloat and spooned the rest out for him. “Thank you.” He replied with a grunt that really could have been interpreted as a growl.

A promise was made to Carol to help her clean the mismatched bowls in the morning. You were tired; slightly nauseated and, for once, eager to close your eyes. Still, something bothered you.

During dinner, you noticed the fine, almost imperceptible shivering. Despite his natural ability to act as a human space heater, Daryl was cold. He wore only his vest, long sleeve button up, and a tank top beneath. You pushed to your feet, feeling his eyes follow you. The supplies had been separated and placed into different backpacks, forcing you to go through three of them to find the blankets. Some were small receiving blankets while others were thick, large fabrics. You grabbed two of those and then one of the blankets for the adults. Those were limited to one per person, having been hard to find.

You returned to his side without a word. The largest blanket was soon spread over the ground. You hoped he would take the hint and share the blanket, sparing him from the cold forest floor.

Daring to push your luck, you took one of the larger baby blankets and spread it over his shoulders. Daryl tensed with a spoonful of food hovering just over the bowl, trembling so hard that clumps were falling back into the bowl. You watched his eyes dart from person to person, lingering on Carol as she smiled around her spoon. She kept her eyes straight ahead but had obviously seen your actions.

The archer deflated slightly, pushing what remained on the utensil past his lips. You sat down on the edge of the blanket, leaving ample room for him to just shift over and lie down if he wanted. You, on the other hand, nearly collapsed onto your back before rolling onto your side to grab the other blanket. Your torso was warm under the jacket but the chill of the night air was still biting at your legs. Making sure they were adequately covered, you used one arm as a pillow, not even trying to fight the heavy call of sleep.

In the haze of exhaustion, you faintly registered the warm body against your back and the gentle squeeze of a hand on your hip.

The weather only became colder as the days wore on. The dead moved slower but in groups that grew larger, desperately in search of living flesh. There hadn’t been a single living soul in three weeks. Everyone had moved on. And that meant that every stop had been cleaned out of anything useful. Anything vital to survival.

Hershel did what he could to ensure that you and the baby remained as healthy as possible. Without the proper equipment, there was little he could do beyond checking your pulse, taking approximate measurements of your stomach. You took the meds when Daryl could find them; changed the bracelet when the one you wore didn’t seem to be as effective. Hershel would administer IV fluids as often as he dared while in constant motion to stay ahead of the gathering herds. At times you wondered if you or the baby would even survive after all.

At twenty one weeks, you had most definitely—as Lori had put it—popped. While malnutrition and the complications you suffered ensured you struggled to maintain any sort of healthy weight, the small roundness of your abdomen remained prominent. Despite Daryl's protests, you continued to ride behind him on the bike, the bump pressed against his back, the only time you felt like you could offer any true safety for your baby. Protected by their father from the weather, the walkers.

From the world.

The current stop saw you vomiting beside the porch of the home the group was searching. Daryl was with you, quiet, one hand on your back and the other holding any hair away from your face.

“Doc should give ya some’a them fluids.” His suggestion came quietly against your ear after you sagged against him.

“Maybe at the next stop.” That was always your reply. Even when the archer had to pull the bike off the road for you to retch and heave. Maybe at the next stop.

You didn’t want to be the reason the group was held up. You continued to hold on until your legs buckled and your head clouded, always waking up with tubing in your arm and a worried bowman’s face hovering over yours.

This was most likely going to be one of those times. You angled your head to look at him, his tired gaze on the front of your coat. The large size ensured the swell remained hidden. You both preferred it that way. If you ran into any hostile living, it wouldn’t be something that could be used as leverage.

“How ‘bout this stop?” It wasn’t a request. Still, the command was strained at best. Daryl looked exhausted and drawn, years older than just two weeks before.

There was still nothing defined about what the two of you had. He slept behind you at night, putting himself between you and any possible entrance, the curves of his body fitting into yours. His hand never ventured past where your hip met your stomach. There had been nothing sexual since the first night on the road, not even a kiss.

The two of you never discussed where you stood. It was as if you just were. Together but not. Maybe he never wanted to discuss it because he was afraid of how badly he felt he was failing you. How he felt he was a terrible father before the kid had even taken their first breath. The times you had tried to reassure him, he had snatched up his crossbow and skulked away to hunt, a quiet bark of watch her to Carol.

You didn’t offer him any of those reassurances that night. You preferred to have him close to you, that barrier between your baby and the world, instead of wondering if the sight of his back as he walked away would be the last you would see of him.

As you laid there on top of your blanket in the run down house, IV fluids flowing into the back of your hand and Daryl breathing quietly at your back while his fingers flexed over the bony junction of your hip, you startled to feel the small flutter inside the swell of your belly. You carefully moved your hand over where the sensation originated, not wanting to alert Daryl just yet. Hershel had told you that the first movements would likely only be felt on the inside.

That was indeed the case. Still you held your breath after each flutter, awaiting the next with tears flowing across your nose and down your temple.

Your baby was moving.

“Daryl.”

His fingers stilled. “Hmm?”

“They’re moving.” You shifted to look over your shoulder at him. He had slightly raised his head, his brow furrowed. He looked over his own shoulder toward the people sleeping behind him. The only one up was Rick, his gun on his lap while his gaze was trained on the door.

“Who’s movin’?” He looked so, so tired and your heart shattered, as it did anytime you looked at him lately.

But this wasn’t the time for heavy hearts.

“The baby. They’re moving.”

The change in the archer was gradual. Understanding finally blossomed in his expression, the dull veil that had glossed over his pretty blue eyes washed away with the wetness of his unshed tears. You gently wrapped your fingers around his and pulled his hand toward your belly, parting your coat so he could touch your warm skin with chilled fingers. You both knew he wouldn’t be able to feel it, but it didn’t stop him from crumbling, burying his face in your hair. You remained unsure if he was crying, even his stuttering breaths completely untelling.

Still, his fingers squeezed yours over where your baby moved.

And for one brief moment, the world around you was beautiful.

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sweetnothingtm · 2 years

Note

omg just imagine simon figuring out that you have a thing for his voice and then he takes any chance he gets to tease and praise you… what i would give to hear this man say dirty things to me!!

he’s so hot ♡ i swear to god i’m gonna vomit

simon riley thinks that he’s bitten off more than he can chew.

you asked him one night to talk about his day. your head resting against his shoulder as you look up to him innocently. he’s hesitant, you never having asked him of this before, but you’re waiting for him. “i just want to listen,” you say.

so he gives in, letting pieces of himself drift to you. he’s always so busy, and you only have so much time before his side of the bed is empty again. you hang off his words like they’re the reason you breathe - and he can’t help it when you start to nod off, humming softly as he speaks.

falling asleep on me, love?

uh-uh. keep talking, simon.

he notices that you always want to ask him more, as if what he’s given you isn’t enough. you’re eager for him, eyes sparkling with curiosity as he talks. maybe you’re a little needy, but he doesn’t mind.

simon bought you a phone one day. the only number you have is his, and it’s the only one you’ll ever need.

he starts to leave you voicemails when he’s away. you always call him at night, tucked into warm sheets as he leans against the building with a cigarette between his fingers. distance made him realize how much he misses you, and when you keep him on the line with the sound of your soft breathing - he just about thinks you can’t fall asleep without him.

did you miss me, sweetheart? been thinking about you all day, i bet you’re already in bed dreaming of me. thought i’d give call since you can’t seem to get enough of me.

and he always wakes up to a picture of you in bed, sprawled out against the sheets with a devious little look in your eyes. you intoxicate and consume him. he can’t think straight, head cloudy with all the ways that you pull the worst out of him.

simon never hesitates to call you, voice gruff and groggy from waking up. you always answer, lip pulled between your teeth and hand between your thighs. it’s like you need to hear him, and a part of him needs you to listen.

morning - a little eager, are we? i might think that you waited for me to ring. you did - didn’t you?

i’ll tell you a secret, simon - i’m always waiting for you

fuck, that’s what i wanna hear

and when he comes home - you wait patiently for him, always the one to lift the balaclava from his face, your lips planting soft kisses against his cheek. you let him talk, tracing his tattoos and humming as he whispers delicate sweet nothings.

eventually you come clean. he’s grinning like a goddamn fool for you. with an arm around your neck, he keeps you pinned against his chest. his lips are ghosting over your neck, teeth dragging along the skin and laughing as you melt under the touch.

i’m home, love. you wanna hear about my day - or how much i’ve missed that pretty little ass pressed against me? i think you just wanna hear me talk

i think i’m in love with you, simon

i bet you are, sweetheart - i spoil you rotten.

#simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #sweet speaks #call of duty modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #cod #modern warfare #modern warfare 2

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userlando · 1 year

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that anon is a genuis? the showering one 🥺

okay okay I’m still gonna write a full on fic but I wanted to do the showering together rn because I have no shame, but but I hope you enjoy this lil fluffy thing

take care of you (2.k words) lando norris x fem!reader sickfic

You were never sick, and that’s why Lando was getting worried. The both of you had always laughed at the thought of being ill, boasting a little too much about your amazing immune systems and now it’s come to bite you in the ass.

It had started as - what you thought was - a hangover, having a little too much to drink at the bar where Max had practically forced you to come two days ago. Lando hadn’t really been feeling it, still a little sore from the race a few days prior and in need of a night in where he could just relax. But you’d both gone eventually, had a good time and then you’d woken up violently ill the next morning.

Lando had set aside his aversion to vomit, quietly gagging as he tried to nurse you back to health. But it had become clear that it wasn’t just the aftermath of the night before coming to haunt you. Your nose had turned stuffy, voice hoarse and your fevers were running high. Dangerously so. Lando had never seen you so drained of energy before and it was starting to scare him.

He’d ignored your protests of staying away, not wanting him to catch whatever the fuck was making you feel like death was knocking on your front door but Lando was nothing but stubborn, glaring angrily at you when you tried to wave him off.

Max had dropped in to dump a plastic bag of medicine and everything a pharmacy held before fleeing, saying that whatever you had, he didn’t want it. You just wished Lando had the same attitude.

You didn’t want to admit it out loud though, that a part of you was glad that you had your best friend by your side to look after your basic needs when you couldn't. He always ran cold and it was a great advantage as he sat by your side as you went in and out of consciousness, placing his chilly hand on your forehead and cheek to hopefully stave off the fever.

By day two, he’d had enough. His stomach was twisting in worry, and he’d rang his mum three times - looking for advice or anything to help with her in a different country. You’d been a little delirious, skin slick with sweat as you laid on the bed; barely conscious and drifting between that place where you're not quite lucid, but you're also not completely knocked out. Lando would’ve thought that you were sleeping if it weren’t for the mouth breathing and little whimpers you occasionally let out when the pain in your head spiked out of nowhere.

It was three in the morning when you sniffled, waking up from your doze and blinking at him. You looked so miserable that he couldn’t help but feel sorry for you, brushing a few strands of hair sticking to your forehead and ignoring the fact that your hair was absolutely soaking. Anxiety was already gripping his heart in a fist and he couldn't handle feeding into it anymore, in fear of it bursting at the seams.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, voice quiet as to not worsen your headache but you still groaned like he’d put a megaphone to your ear and screamed into it.

You made a pathetic attempt at shaking your head, and the little gesture made him smile in endearment when you nuzzled the side of your face against the pillow; squishing your nose and mouth into the damp fabric.

“No.” You murmured. “‘s so hot.”

He glanced at the one too many covers and blankets on you, thinking that maybe he’d gone overboard with his mum’s advice to ‘let you sweat your fever out’.

“I know, bug.” He frowned a little. “You’ll be okay soon.”

“I feel like I’ve taken a nap in the devil’s arse.” You complained and Lando laughed, a bit relieved that your humour was still there.

He thought back on his mum’s advice that he’d immediately brushed off with heated cheeks as soon as the words left her mouth. Let her have a shower, it’ll do wonders for her, poor girl.

How was Lando supposed to get you in the shower when you hadn’t even left the bed for days? He glanced down at you and sucked his teeth, hands going to push the covers from your body before he could second guess himself. You made a sound of confusion when he grabbed at your hands, helping you sit up.

“What are you doin’?” Your speech was a little slurred, exhaustion clinging to your very soul and Lando ignored the pang in his chest at your rare vulnerability.

He’d ever only seen you like this when you were pissed out of your mind drunk, or when you were really sad. Or sick.

“We’re taking a shower.” He said, helping you stand up and you went easily, leaning heavily on him because the room was fucking spinning and he’d just said we.

The slow realisation made you yelp as he walked the both of you to the bathroom, and you gripped his hoodie in your hands in a lousy effort to stop him from walking any further.

“We? You’re not seeing me naked.” You said, feeling a little panicked at that thought.

Lando gave you a look you couldn’t decipher, pushing the door open with his foot and guiding you inside. He flipped down the toilet seat lid and gently sat you down and any other day you would've laughed at how much he acted like his mother when she fussed over her son or even you.

“Then we’re showering in our clothes.” He said, like it was that simple but it really wasn't that simple.

“We’re not.” You frowned but immediately stopped because fuck, that hurt your head. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll shower tomorrow when I've got my strength up.”

“You said that yesterday. You’re literally laying in your pool of sweat.” He pointed in the direction of your bedroom as if to get his point across and your mouth pursed in displeasure.

“You said you wouldn’t mention that.”

Lando’s eyebrows climbed to his forehead in exasperation and you flushed hotly. It was embarrassing and he’d promised not to make fun of you. Not that he was making fun of you, but still.

“You’re being an idiot.” He said, watching you pout a little at that and immediately feeling bad. He backtracked. “I mean… I don’t want you feeling faint and falling when I’m not here. I promise I won’t be a creep and look.”

You narrowed your eyes in disbelief and Lando placed both of his hands on his hips as he exhaled, the tips of his ear turning a nice shade of pink.

“Fine. I won’t look too much.” He swept a hand in the air. “Can we please get you in the shower? You’re starting to stink.”

“Now you know how I feel every day around you.” You muttered, ignoring Lando as he repeated your words in a mocking tone. “Okay, can you at least just… Look away?”

He regarded you with a contemplative look before nodding slowly, turning around and you stared at his back for a few seconds before starting to undress. Lando was patient, keeping his eyes firmly on the sink as he heard the shuffle of clothes and your noises behind him. You made a small sound that let him know that you were done and he stretched a hand out without turning or looking, offering his support as you stepped into the shower with weak legs.

You didn’t want to admit that he was right. You were in no shape or form to wash yourself without risking blacking out, but Lando thankfully didn’t say a thing as he let you draw the shower drapes to cover you.

You stood quietly, shivering and a little nervous as you heard him undress, nausea roiling your stomach and tying it into knots and you couldn’t figure out if it was because you were nervous or simply sick. It must’ve been a combination of two, you decided, thoughts spiralling until Lando’s voice echoed in the bathroom.

“You okay?” He asked and you nodded before you realised that he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah.” You flattened your palm against the tiled wall when you started feeling a little dizzy, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can you hurry? I’m feeling sick.”

The weakness in your voice must’ve triggered your best friend into action because he pulled the drapes aside and stepped in, grabbing your hand like it was a normal and every day occurrence to be standing in the shower. Naked.

You opened your eyes to find him looking intensely at your face, eyebrows pulled together worriedly and you gave him a shaky smile.

“Do you wanna lean on me?” He asked, tilting his head to look you in the eyes.

You were about to shake your head when you felt your world tilt on its axis, stumbling a little and Lando was quick to wrap his arms around you. He pulled you into his embrace and took some of your weight off your feet, trying not to think about how incredibly naked and warm you were against him.

He exhaled, feeling your hands weakly rest on his back; like you were welcoming his help and it made something warm bloom in his chest.

“I’m going to turn the shower on now, okay?” He walked the two of you to the corner before reaching back and turning the knob.

There was a sputtering sound before the spray came, and you could feel the cold mist as the shower head splattered cold water by your feet. You hummed in delight, leaning your forehead against Lando’s shoulder and closing your eyes.

“I feel like shit.” You confessed quietly between the two of you and Lando’s hand came up to brush the hair down your neck in quiet comfort. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Don’t mention it. You know I always will.” There was something in his voice that you couldn’t quite decipher, but you let it go when he took a step back into the shower once he’d deemed it warm enough.

The lukewarm water felt like heaven as it pelted down the both of you, washing away the sweat and everything you’d managed to accumulate these past few days. You hummed in pleasure, feeling your hair soak and you pushed your head off his shoulder to look at your best friend.

He was busy making out the hundreds of different bottles, looking lost before he finally found the shampoo bottle. The sight would’ve made you laugh if you had any strength left, but you settled for an amused smile that Lando clocked as soon as he turned his attention back to you.

“Shut up.” He said, seeing the clear laughter in your eyes and you raised your eyebrows as if to say hey, I didn’t say anything. “Turn around and let me wash your hair.”

You weren’t about to protest, doing just that and placing the palm of your hand against the wall to keep yourself upright.

Lando quickly washed your hair, the suds of the shampoo sliding down your face and getting in your eyes and it wasn’t as relaxing as one would’ve thought but he did the job and you couldn’t complain. He even went as far as conditioning your hair, rinsing it off gently before you offered to do the same for him.

“You don’t have to do that.” He scrunched his nose. “You look like you’re two seconds away from falling asleep.”

“Put your head down and shut up. Let me wash your hair.” You tried to sound stern, but you ended up sounding a little ridiculous with your stuffy nose and Lando grinned before complying.

The smile on his face vanished when he realised that he had, in the process, put himself in direct eyesight of your naked body and he struggled not to tense up as he heard the cap of the bottle pop, staring hard at your bare feet instead.

You did a way better job at washing his hair, digging your nails pleasantly around his skull and massaging his curls thoroughly before rinsing the suds off. Lando didn’t realise how relaxed he’d became until he tried to stand upright, hair drooping over his face and dripping wet.

His breath stuttered when you let out a hoarse laugh, pushing the hair out of his face and the movement was so intimate that Lando had a hard time breathing, wondering what the fuck was happening.

You didn’t seem bothered by the gesture though, none the wiser as you picked up a loofah and pushed it into his hands. He blinked down at it like it was a foreign object, trying to make sense of what exactly you were asking of him.

“You want me to wash you?” His voice went high, almost in a squeak and you shot a questioning look at him.

“Yes.” You decided on replying before frowning, adding: “Is that weird? I can do it if —“

“No, no. Um, I can do it, just —“ He was flustered, turning a little in the small space of your shower and trying not to yelp when his arm brushed your naked skin. “Body wash. I need body wash.”

Your face was on fire, watching him pop the cap of the body wash and ripping it off in the process. He made a little sound in his throat but didn’t dare to pick the broken cap off the floor, squirting the liquid onto the loofah before waving it in front of you.

You turned around, figuring that it was maybe a little easier if you weren’t in each others faces and Lando must’ve felt the same because he blew out a breath and started washing your back, albeit a little timidly.

He gained confidence after a few moments, finishing scrubbing you before doing himself and you didn’t call him out on him using your sponge because really, he’d probably done it a million times whenever he showered at your place.

The both of you stepped out, and he was there to immediately wrap you up in a towel before doing the same to himself. You didn’t want to acknowledge your heart, how it was speeding up abnormally so at the sight of him and how sweet he was being. Taking care of you, sending updates to your mum with how you were and assuring her that you were being taken care of. He knew how much of a worrier she was, and it made something immense swell in your chest as he rubbed a second towel over your hair, gentle and so very careful not to snag your hair or accidentally hurt you.

“What?” He halted when he pulled the towel away, revealing your face and your eyes staring at him. He wasn’t sure if it was the shampoo that had gotten in your eyes but they looked like they were on the verge of welling up.

“Nothing.” You replied, voice thick and so obviously lying but Lando didn’t touch on the subject. He made sure to ask later, when the air wasn’t so charged and you weren't teetering on the brink of death.

“Get into bed, I’ll bring you fresh clothes.” He said as he steered the both of you back to your bedroom. Lando stopped as he eyed your bed, a little critically. “You know what, let’s go to the couch instead.”

You laughed, voice a little thick and you reached a hand to weakly slap at his arm.

“What?” He grinned. “We need to change the sheets. Or maybe even burn them.”

“You’re a prick!” The way your voice cracked made Lando cackle, yelping when you shoved him a lot harder than he had anticipated.

Your words may have sounded malicious, but there was an undertone that your best friend couldn’t help but latch onto.

It sounded a lot like, I love you.

don't look at me, i love pain. anyways, hope you enjoyed this little drabble as i go crawling back into my cave to write something better than this. (also how did this turn into 2.6k words? i need help)

#zee's asks 💌#f1 blurb #lando norris #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x reader #f1 fics

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purriteen · 8 months

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Ad victor spolia, chapter two

content warnings: incest, manipulation, eventual Stockholm Syndrome, toxic & dark!Coriolanus Snow (as if that isn't his default), named!reader, ANGST, eventual smut, non-con, age gap (5-6 years)

author's note: I feel like this chapter is kinda shitty since I’ve mostly written pure smut before, not to mention I haven’t written in English in a while so I’m still warming back up to the language & structure

but alright, since I've just been projectile vomiting words all day anyways y'all get two chapters at once this time mostly cause I myself couldn't wait to flesh out what happens next

word count: 3,345

Previous chapter

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You struggled to fall asleep that night. You’d already come to the conclusion that slipping past the guards positioned along the tall metal fence or the main gate wouldn’t be possible, but at least, before you used to have the privilege of leaving the house and spending time in the garden whenever you wanted. Now you were truly trapped. Now that you needed to get out of here the most.

At first you’d enjoyed going for walks in the garden or having tea in one of the quaint greenhouses, until you discovered the one with those god awful rose bushes. The ones that reeked of your brother. You figured he didn’t tend to them himself, but that didn’t ease the disgust you felt whenever that familiar, overwhelming scent reached you. It was nauseating.

Even in his absence, everything reminded you of him, in the worst way possible. In every nook and cranny of the house there’d be a reminder that this was his home. For a moment you wondered if his signature scent had worn off on you; your shower was equipped with various settings and products, but it was always stacked with that familiar rose shampoo you could smell on him whenever he got close to you - too close for your liking -, without exceptions.

When you finally fell asleep, your face was raw and puffy from all the crying. You hadn’t even bathed or brushed your hair, or changed into one of the many pyjama sets in your wardrobe.

Then, at around seven in the morning according to your alarm clock, you awoke to the sound of keys rustling outside your door. You were relieved when you realised it wasn’t Coriolanus - he’d never make such an awkward entrance. Instead, your nanny maid stepped through the door. Eugenie. She looked even more anxious than usual. Perhaps she took pity on you - if only she knew.

The two of you hardly spoke that early Friday morning. She’d brought something for you to eat, stacked on a silver tray. As if you needed another reminder of your complete lack of autonomy here, your own brother now wouldn’t even let you have breakfast in the kitchen anymore. At least he’d been generous enough to let you have something you could actually stand to eat, you supposed. A bowl of blueberries and grapes and a fresh loaf of bread with butter and marmalade, neatly plated next to it.

You sat on the small couch in the corner of the room as you ate your breakfast, only managing to get small bites down. Watching Eugenie change your bedsheets and clean up after last night, you simply couldn’t think about anything else. That was enough to make your appetite vanish.

Once you were both done she gestured towards the bathroom, and you took the hint. She went in first and ran a warm bath for you, before leaving the room to give you some privacy. Finally you took a proper look at yourself for the first time since yesterday.

Your hair was a mess, but what worried you most was the prevailing handprint on the left side of your face. Three, four stripes of a faint purplish colour that was already fading to yellow in some places. You shakily inhaled, forcing yourself to keep it together. The last thing you needed was for Coriolanus to think he was getting to you, even if he was right.

Yet you still didn’t realise the extent of your injuries until you’d already sunk down into the bathtub, relatively comfortably so. You’d felt the swelling on the back of your head last night, of course, but it was almost worse now. All you wanted to do at the moment was fall back asleep, but the aching bump on the back of your skull made it impossible to rest your head anywhere without being in pain.

A couple minutes later, Eugenie returned. This time with an ice pack in hand, which she carefully placed in your hand and guided it towards the back of your head. She flashed you an almost sorrowful, empathetic smile, before she stepped back and closed the door behind her.

You weren’t particularly fond of her, but you didn’t want to make the poor woman’s job any harder than it already was. So you made sure to thoroughly wash yourself before she got back. The sight of the dried blood from your scalp liquifying and mixing with the bathwater as you rinsed your hair made you feel nauseous.

You wondered what dinner would be like. If he would pretend nothing happened yesterday, or perhaps dish out another beating. You still hadn’t entirely grasped everything that went down last night. Everything he had kept from you, above anything, the hatred he’d felt for you. The thought of your warm, outwardly unassuming cousin having to make such a sacrifice for you made you feel sick. Poor Tigris.

Not to mention being reminded of your mother’s passing. You knew she’d died in childbirth, your birth, but you never thought of it as your fault until he brought it up. Grandma’am never once blamed you for the loss of her only daughter-in-law. And until that moment, neither had Coryo. Not openly, at least. You were left staring at yourself in the mirror for a while, wondering if it was truly worth it. If you were worth it.

You knew you couldn’t afford to think like that, to let him get to you. But this was all so unlike the Coryo you were used to, you’d seen this side of him before, to some extent, but never directed towards you. You wished he had just stayed away, that he would’ve left you alone after the initial shock of Grandma’am’s passing.

As you patted yourself dry with the soft white towel always hung on the gilded heating rack, you couldn’t help but wonder if this is what you deserved. You’d dragged everyone down. You hadn’t even been able to take proper care of grandma’am the last couple days of her life, or at least, Coriolanus wouldn’t let you.

You sat down on the edge of the bathtub. Waited a couple more minutes. Got impatient again. You decided you might as well get dressed again before Eugenie came back, but the pile of clothes you’d left on the floor was already gone. In its place a peachy slip dress and a robe, with a pair of slippers to match. You sighed and slid on the matching set.

A few minutes later, she returned just on time. This time she just had a glass of water and a small yellow-ish pill in hand. You furrowed your brows a little, looking up at her. “What’s this for?” You inquired, silently scolding yourself as you heard the annoyance in your own voice. This wasn’t her fault, it’s Coriolanus you were upset with. “It’ll help the healing, Miss.” You simply nodded in return, washing down the small capsule with a sip of water before returning the glass to her.

Concern was written all over her face as she studied you for a couple seconds, discomfort forming in your gut. “I’ll be back in four hours with lunch. Master Coriolanus asked me to inform you that his personal stylist will pay you a visit tonight at six.” Her words came out tense and rushed, and you were left with no time to react before she stepped back and locked the door again. You weren’t sure why she was so out of it, or if you even wanted to know.

You were familiar with Coriolanus’ personal stylist. She’d been the one to prepare you for any of those important public appearances where your attendance was actually needed. Rumina, you believe her name was. She was not the type of person you’d expected to find working such a job - she was always well dressed, but always in a timeless, classic fashion rather than the bold, colourful looks that were all the rage this year.

You supposed that might’ve been why your brother hired her in the first place. Beyond just that, she appeared to be in her fifties or sixties, whereas most stylists were much younger. The reason for that on the other hand, you couldn’t quite grasp. But despite her elegant exterior, you couldn’t stand her personality. She wouldn’t shut up about how delighted she was that somebody was finally ‘stepping up’ to truly restore Panem to its ‘former glory’.

Truthfully you’d given up on politics long ago - you’d never been among the pick of the litter back at the Academy, largely thanks to being so caught up with caring for Grandma’am. Not to mention the way your last name seemed to precede you every time you entered a classroom - it was clear you had big shoes to fill, after your big brother’s academic achievements - which only drove you further away. So it was clear that wasn’t the right path for you. But at least, before Coriolanus’ presidency, you’d actually thought you might one day have a career of your own, something worth dedicating your life to. You just needed to heal and learn how to stand on your own two feet.

Until he’d robbed you of that opportunity entirely. You didn’t even truly understand why, how it in any way actually served him. He had every reason to lock up Tigris, if he was simply worried about his own family turning on him. You’d never stood up to him in that sense before, or tried to distance yourself. He’d done a great job at that himself. If he genuinely believed you were so frail, he could’ve just left you in that penthouse to let you wither away in peace. He didn’t need to keep you so close to him.

Despite feeling about as rejuvenated as you could get under these circumstances after that bath, you felt a wave of drowsiness hit you. You laid back on the newly made bed, hoping to just fall back asleep. Instead you laid awake for nearly half an hour, staring at the canopy ceiling. Eventually you’d had enough.

You got up and walked over to your dresser, quickly pulling open your underwear drawer. You doubted that it was actually hidden, but you’d kept some old memorabilia from your childhood stashed in the shoe box at the very back of the drawer. Pictures of you and Grandma’am. Of all four of you who survived. Even a couple pictures of Coryo and your mom and dad together before you were born.

There was a particular picture of them you just couldn’t stand. As far as you knew Coryo didn’t even remember the photograph’s existence. Mrs. Snow was sat next to your father, who stood up straight right by her side, with their newborn son in her arms. His gloved hand was steadily placed on her shoulder, but his face was about as devoid of any emotion as hers was of happiness. He had Coriolanus’ eyes - a pale shade of blue, cold and unforgiving.

Your mother on the other hand, looked afraid, exhausted and tense. No amount of makeup was enough to hide the dark circles under her wide eyes. You’d always admired her beauty, and although you never had the chance to know her, you felt a sense of pride in the resemblance the two of you bore. You had her eyes, her smile, her lips. Even her hair, although hers was wavier than yours. Coriolanus always recalled her as a warm, loving mother, and you didn’t doubt that, but this picture always gave you the impression she had to have been wildly unprepared for the task of becoming a mom, and consequently disillusioned. Or worse.

Everyone always spoke fondly of her, of her charm and youthfulness, and you couldn’t help but wonder if they were simply tiptoeing around the word naive. You didn’t have any memories of your father either, but just from the few photographs you had of him he’d always instilled a sense of fear in you. You hated how much Coriolanus was starting to resemble him.

Finally you got to the picture of Grandma’am holding you in her arms shortly after your mother passed. She was visibly shaken up, and both you and her worn hands were bloody. You’d been told many times of how close a call it was, how the family cook was convinced you wouldn’t make it. You could only imagine how she must’ve felt in that moment, holding her two weeks premature, frail granddaughter in her arms after watching her daughter-in-law lose her life.

It didn’t take long for you to start crying, something which only got worse as you scrambled through the rest of your small collection of family photos. The family fortune had run out awfully fast during the Dark Days, so there were hardly any taken during your childhood. The few you had left were mostly school photos and ones taken at various social events. Even though you couldn’t afford your own photographer, you’d always kept the unprocessed copies and had them processed and printed whenever you had some extra money to spare. Much to Coriolanus’ dismay you’d always been sentimental, just like your cousin.

You stayed like that for almost an hour. All those photos of you smiling in your brother's arms, the ones where he posed so proudly with his baby sister, made you feel nostalgic for something you’d hardly even experienced. You couldn’t grasp that this boy, your Coryo, could’ve gone from that prideful older brother you saw in those pictures to the man he was today. You wondered if Grandma’am had felt the same way bringing up Crassus.

When you finally got up from your seat on the floor, you carefully put the stack of photographs away again, along with the pearl necklace and perfume bottle you’d kept after Grandma’am’s passing, to remind you of her. You didn’t have anything tangible left of your parents, but you had fond memories of Coriolanus letting you sleep with your mother’s powder compact when you were younger. He’d always been possessive, though - only if you were really upset would he share it with you.

You checked the time. Almost ten o’clock. You went off to your bathroom to splash your face with some cold water, shivering as you looked up and were met with the sight of the yellowing bruise on your cheek. You’d almost forgotten. At least it was healing quickly, like Eugenie promised. After nearly exhausting yourself with tears, your throat hoarse and eyes puffy and red, you finally felt tired enough to take a nap. So you did. You nearly threw yourself back onto the soft, queen size bed and let your eyes flutter shut.

When you woke again it was noon. This time Eugenie had gone unnoticed when she entered, as you only awoke when you heard the wheels of the food cart she wheeled in after herself awkwardly bumping into the threshold, making the porcelain inside clatter against itself. You were startled at first, but immediately calmed down when you realised it was just her.

Soon enough lunch too had passed, and this time Eugenie stuck around to keep you company for a little while. She taught you how to knit, and you lent her your favourite book. For a moment you’d almost forgotten the gravity of the situation you were in. Until she scurried to get up, proclaiming she was late to laundry service. You glanced at the longcase clock across the room, a bit surprised to find it was already quarter past four in the evening. You had forty-five minutes until your brother’s stylist would turn up.

You spent that time trying to perfect your knitting technique, ignoring the stiffness in your hands as best as you could. You’d never excelled at crafts like Tigris did, or patience, for that matter.

Finally Rumina arrived, and you were almost relieved. She immediately started to babble on about the latest gossip, and as always, sang your brother’s praises. Though, today it was particularly unbearable, and you thought to yourself that someone working so closely with him and his image should know that it’s just that, an image. That your brother didn’t give a flying fuck about the districts, even if he had improved the living conditions of the tributes in the annual Hunger Games, and that he didn’t even really care about the Capitol either. You’d come to terms with the fact that Coriolanus was only loyal to one thing: power.

You had stayed silent as she blow dried, brushed and twisted and folded your hair up behind your head. When she was done she offered you a handheld mirror to have a look for yourself, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes when you were met with a tidy french twist. Of course your brother had chosen something conservative that’d thoroughly conceal the bloody lump he’d given you.

Then she had done your makeup. This time she laid the base on thicker than usual, but you weren’t surprised Coriolanus intended to hide your bruise, too. You wondered if it was for his own conscience’s sake or for his image. But it could hardly be the latter, you doubted he would let anyone see you so soon after last night’s events. Then again, you weren’t sure he even had a conscience, either.

When you were done, you looked perfectly rejuvenated. Though to you it felt like an empty shell. Rumina eagerly guided you out into your bedroom and helped you get dressed. It seemed your brother had picked out yet another tasteless, phoney dress that you’d feel nothing like yourself in. Much like the makeup it was more glamorous than you’d expected.

The material was flowy, probably something like chiffon, but it was perfectly cinched at your waist, the sweetheart neckline and the puffy fabric at your hips flattering your figure just right. There was some sort of built in corset that stopped just below your chest. The sleeves were long and puffy much like the skirt, which stopped just above your ankles. You knew Coriolanus was always up to whatever dress code applied, and something this elegant was hardly necessary for a simple dinner.

But what really stood out to you was the colour. It was a deep shade of burgundy; one you’d seen on Coriolanus oh so many times. You felt your jaw clench. It was bad enough that he insisted on dressing you up, like a mere doll, but this was yet another jab at your independence and individuality. Like you were just an extension of him.

Still, complaining to his own stylist would be of no use, so you decided to suck it up and let her finish dressing you. She clasped a silver necklace around your neck, a garnet pendant in the shape of an octagon hanging from it, framed by more silver. It almost seemed compulsive how your brother just had to show off his wealth every chance he got. Finally you slid on some black velvet kitten heels and had a look in the mirror.

You looked like something out of a gothic painting. (A tragedy, if you had to guess.) That wouldn’t be too unlike your current situation. Only there wouldn’t be a handsome, brooding young mythological hero to save you. No, your ‘prince charming’ had few positive attributes beyond just that - his superficial charm -, and no intention of saving you.

You felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter as you walked down the stairs to the main floor, confusion spreading on your face as you saw one of Coriolanus’ many servants waiting for you at the bottom. He stiffly informed you that there’d been a change of plans, that he’d be escorting you to the larger dining room over in the east wing. You hadn’t even explored the house enough to know there were multiple.

When you arrived you quickly understood what the sudden change of plans was for.

taglist: @caffeine-addict-slug, @phoward89, @catesbaroquecasahouse

#banner credit: @benkeibear #minors dni #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x you #named reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #thg fanfiction #eventual smut

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mmgwritings · 11 months

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I'M GONNA TAKE MINE OF YOU WITH ME

Character: Kaz Brekker / Wife! Reader

Prompts: There is a word for children who lose their parents, but there is none for parents who lose a child.

Warnings: Canon divergence; Angst; Character death; Grief; Kaz suffering; i'm sorry :(

Never trust the Saints; they give and take away.

Initially, a curfew was imposed. Without prior warning, patrol officers closed all clubs, brothels and merchant mansions, causing a commotion among the population that was soon violently suppressed. Later, when the disease spread from the interior of Kesh to the suburbs of Ketterdam, the healers' homes became crowded, and before long even the healers needed the assistance of the Grisha in the merchants' hospital.

Thus, Ketterdam remembered how to act. They had faced an epidemic before and would face this one with the same practicality. The funeral bells echoed incessantly throughout the day, while the bay south of the city was used to transport the bodies, piled on fishing vessels confiscated by the Council of the Tides. The former party town, Ketterdam, has transformed into a highly efficient funeral operation.

Burials were strictly prohibited. Thus, when the boats failed to remove bodies from the city quickly enough, in less favored neighborhoods, residents were forced to dispose of their loved ones on improvised pyres in the middle of the street.

This was the first scene we saw upon arriving in Ketterdam through the northwest gate, when the carriage had to make an abrupt stop in front of a pile of twisted ashes, which at first glance appeared to be the remains of slaughtered animals. However, horror soon hit us when the coachman, in a state of shock, vomited and exclaimed: “They are people, Saints, they are people!”

From the windows of the houses along the street, I could briefly see thin faces peering through the cracks in the windows. They were, without a doubt, the relatives of those poor burned creatures. Their looks were blank, as if they had already resigned themselves to the idea that the remains of their loved ones would end up on the street. I hastily closed the windows to hide the cruelty, but it remained etched in my eyes even when I closed them.

The trip was quick and extremely stressful, from Lij to the capital it was just two days of march that lasted the longest a lifetime. The exhausted horses showed visible signs of fatigue when the coachman left us at the hospital doors. However, as quick as it was, it apparently wasn't enough. The little girl was remarkably pale, her lips were dyed purple and her eyes were trembling under the weight of nightmares caused by the fever. My dear girl, a gift bestowed by the saints, the reward for any act of benevolence I have done in this world.

My mother used to say that the saints' mercy was unfair to mortals, because, as divine beings, they no longer understood the pain of any sacrifice, they no longer understood what it was like to lose someone. They were above everything and everyone. But I was a stupid young woman, I ignored my poor mother's advice because I thought it was the condescending words of a woman with pagan customs.

“Mommy,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with exhaustion, her eyes barely opening.

"I'm here my love. It’s going to be okay,” I whispered as I took her small, feverish body into my arms. At the beginning of the year, I could barely hold her on my lap for long, she was growing fast and turning into a beautiful, healthy five year old. Now, feeling how light her body was in my arms, my heart squeezed with pain.

Despite it being the early hours of the morning, a small crowd was sitting on the steps. They were probably sick people, but not sick enough to get a bed inside the hospital. I was trying to carefully pass between them, when, at the door, Nina appeared.

She was dressed in the black clothes of the doctors, with the distinctive blue apron of the merchants' wing, stained with small drops of blood.

“Y/N, come this way, sweetheart. I’ve already prepared everything for her,” said Nina, her kind face and caring voice leading me down a corridor to the east of the main hall. She was different since the last time I saw her, during the holidays. She looked sterner than ever.

“Any news from him? Did Kaz send any letters? Do you think he will arrive today?” I asked as I followed Nina through a corridor packed with doctors, heartrenders, healers and all sorts of people. I must admit that, little by little, the composure I had managed to maintain during the last two days of the journey from Lij to Ketterdam was starting to crumble. Felt like I was on the edge of an abyss, spiraling into darkness.

Nina looked at me with sadness as she led me into a small, but well-lit room with a comfortable bed, where I rested my daughter. She was in a restless sleep and quietly muttering nonsense words, the fever must be getting worse.

“Kaz didn't send any letters, none of them. Y/N, they must be on the way,” Nina reassured me. “Now, I need you to stay calm for her, please. We will examine her immediately, but you also need to undergo tests. You could be as sick as she is.”

“No, you don’t need to. I'm not going to leave her alone here” I said, freeing myself from Nina's hands the moment when a tall, tired-looking man entered the room, he seemed to be middle-aged, even though he was visibly a Grisha.

Nina walked over to him and they started talking in whispers, probably discussing the situation. It was not uncommon for merchants and their families to seek privileges in cases of calamity, but being Kaz Brekker's family, these privileges often extended to any kind of perk. Obviously, by now, the entire hospital knows that the wife and daughter of Ketterdam's biggest criminal are looking for help.

I sat next to my daughter, holding her soft hand and massaging her temple with my fingertips. Just like she is my joy, she is Kaz’s world. The gravity, the humanity, the warmth that keeps him alive. She looks much more like him: her light eyes, her dark hair and even her pert nose. At times, they seemed to share the same thoughts, to the point where I felt like I was somehow invading their space. She was his world.

Kaz would be able to destroy cities to protect her from her enemies, but that would not be enough to protect her from death.

Death came. It invaded my life so abruptly that I didn't even have time to cry for mercy. One moment, my daughter was in a restless sleep, and the next, she was convulsing, with blood pouring from her eyes and nose... The harrowing sounds were the most terrifying, they seemed to echo endlessly in my mind; it was the sound of her choking as she tried to breathe through vomit.

When it was all over, as my daughter lay on the bed with her head at an awkward angle, a horrible sound filled the room, resembling a wounded animal. I couldn't take my eyes off her to find the source of that sound. Only then did I realize that I was the one issuing it.

Once, when I was a child and still enjoying my hunting adventures with my brothers, we witnessed a fox with its cub in a trap set by my father. The cub was trapped, one of its paws shattered between the iron teeth of the trap, it was still too small to understand human antics, and its mother, whether out of compassion or instinct, killed it before we could get closer.

In those minutes when I was afflicted with acute pain, I reflected on that fox mother facing the suffering of her cub. I thought about how I didn't have the same courage as her, about how I would rather rip my own legs off with my teeth and offer myself to the hunters in exchange for freeing my cub from his torment.

Later, when Nina released me from her embrace with a pale, tearful face, speaking words I could barely understand, I considered how naive both I and the hypothetical fox were being in placing our faith in the benevolence of a superior, divine being. Tearing out my legs, my heart, begging, crawling – would that make any difference? Probably not. Yet even so, I would be willing to sacrifice myself for centuries on end in exchange for my daughter's life.

When I got up from the ground, with shaky legs and still immersed in a painful lethargy, I walked over to my daughter. The heartrender had cleaned her face, but there were still bloodstains on the collar of her blue dress, the same one she had received as a birthday present from her father and which she loved because it made her feel like a fairy.

When I held her little face between my hands she was still warm, it seemed like at any moment she would wake up and smile and tell me it was just a trick. But it wasn't, I spent a long time holding her face waiting for this trick to end and it didn't happen.

When I placed a kiss on her forehead, my tears fell on her face. It was an eternal kiss, I didn't want it to end, I didn't want it to be the last. However, when I pulled away, Nina wrapped me in a comforting hug. Finally, she retreated to a corner of the room, leaving me alone to watch over my pain.

I held my daughter in my arms, I ran my fingers through her hair, her face, memorizing every little detail of her. Finally, when she was starting to feel cold and heavy, I moved closer to give her another kiss, and this time, it was Kaz's goodbye kiss.

It was outside the hospital that Kaz found me. Nina took me outside when a team of healers told us they needed the room. In Ketterdam, the city of death, they are very practical about sorting things out. I was sitting on one of the steps, trying to catch my breath and looking at nothing, when Kaz, Inej, Wylan and Jesper arrived in a grain truck.

I didn't understand what emptiness was, nor how distressing it could be. I had no idea that it could be deafening, that the blood would rush through my veins and that everything around me would feel cold to the touch. Emptiness was the absence of all emotions, and at the same time, it contained them all. And the pain of emptiness made it extraordinarily difficult to notice anything around me other than the image of Kaz.

He was disheveled, his black coat was dirty with dust, and his hair was messy, as if he had spent the last few hours pulling out the strands. His usually restrained blue eyes were showing all of his emotions. A shadow hovered over them, something I had never seen before: fear. And I didn't know how to act other than getting up, walking a few steps, and finally succumbing at Kaz's feet in the hope that the ground would swallow me.

My breathing is heavy and shallow, sobs tear from my throat. There were no more tears, it seems that I was no longer able to produce them, however, a rain began to fall on us, as if it could cry what I was unable to. Above me, Kaz was standing still. He was like a wall that refused to fall under a storm, under the weight of reality. He refuses to vocalize whatever he's thinking, I think he's also feeling empty. It's as if any trace of humanity has been drained from him.

Would he become Dirtyhands, being all practical while he waits for the poor creature I've become at his feet to pull herself together? Or would he become the fox cub caught in the trap, hoping I could rip his throat out when he, for the first time in his life, didn't have a plan to get around the situation?

“Y/N, darling,” whispered Inej, as if calling my name could tie me to the ropes of the earth again. Besides, what else could she say?

Is this the moment when I would hear the lamentations, the pity, that would follow me for the rest of my life when they found out about the daughter I lost?

“She's gone,” I said, lifting my head and looking at Kaz. “We were waiting for you... but she got worse, so I came to Ketterdam. I really thought she would get better, but she's gone, Kaz” my voice broke completely.

I think whatever strength had kept Kaz up until that moment was gone. He turned his back on us, walking toward the side of the building, his steps swaying as if he were drunk, until finally he collapsed. A scream tore through his chest, a scream of rage, of frustration and sadness. But above all pain.

There is a definition for children who lose their parents, but there is none for parents who lose their children.

What are we now? A mother without a child? What would I do now? Just go home and put all her things together in a box like party decorations?

I got up and walked over to Kaz, hugging him from behind. We lay huddled in the rain, me holding Kaz's body as he thrashed about in a horrible cry. I offered whatever comfort I had: I kissed his head, whispered empty words, held him close to me. If I wasn't a mom, then Kaz wasn't a dad.

He would never hold her in his arms again, he wouldn't smile when she played with his gloves, which were too big, and he wouldn't stand by her bed on sleepless nights, watching her sleep.

“Kaz, she loves you more than anything” I said. Loved, whispered my treacherous brain. Then, fighting the lump in my throat, I said, “They've already put her with the dead people.”

Kaz shuddered, the crying became silent. The vision no parent, least of all Kaz, wants to imagine. Like any other death in Ketterdem, whether of the poor or the rich, our daughter's would be treated with little ceremony. No mourning, no funeral.

She, who was always warm, was now alone in the cold of the Harbor.

On the days when Kaz couldn't bear any touch, she was the one who defied him by clasping her little hands around his neck. Or on the worst days, when he came from the Barrel with someone's blood on his sleeve, she covered him with kisses and smiles. Kaz loved her the moment he saw her, covered in blood, wet, crying... and warm. When she was a baby he treated her like porcelain, if he could he wouldn't even let me touch her.

My hands met Kaz's, he was clutching his chest as if he wanted to rip out his own heart. I held him, afraid that he would somehow disappear under the weight of his own grief. If he leaves too...

“On the trip, when she was awake, I told her that you love her. That you love her so, so much,” I whispered in his ear. Then, the worst. “I gave her your kiss goodbye”

How can we survive this?

“No, Y/N,” Kaz said in a pleading tone, “I’m sorry, please. I'm so sorry"

When we lack words, guilt appears. It's our fault? Were we really that horrible?

The Saints. They give and they take.

#mmgwbrekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #grishaverse #kaz brekker

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allbark-no-bite · 2 years

Text

Expecting the Unexpected || Elvis Presley x reader

summary: an unplanned pregnancy and a draft notice lead to turmoil in the Presley home

word count: 2.5k

warnings: pregnancy, swearing, vomiting

author’s note: finally!! i’ve been sitting on this one for a few weeks, and I really am pleased with how it turned out! im open to requests but can’t promise i’ll get around to them :)

The three pink sticks lie imposingly on the bathroom counter top, as thought I am not already very aware of their existence. My racing heart, which has been elevated since I purchased the tests at the corner store this morning, picks up again when I hear the front door shut. I return my attention to untangling a strand of my hair as Elvis' footsteps echo from downstairs and become louder when he approaches the bedroom.

From the open door, I see him toss his heavy coat onto the bed, and he reaches up to ruffle his hair, which is still disheveled from the wind. He lets out an exasperated sigh. Shuffling slowly, he makes his way round into the bathroom

His usually vibrant blue eyes are sullen as he takes in the scene painted before him. Me crouched against the wall, three pink sticks on the counter, boxes shoved in the trash can. "Waiting?" he finally asks, his voice tense, cautious, and strangely monotone all in the same breath.

"Yeah," I breathe out, slightly surprised that the words make it out of my mouth. My body has not felt like my own since I missed my cycle. I don't trust it anymore, not even to speak.

Elvis just nods quietly, hands shoved in his pockets.

From the floor, I pick at my fingernails, feeling numb. I'd already cried enough today, the image of the perfect life we lived thrown to the wind. There would be no more late night rendezvous spent in expensive dresses and diamonds, drinking champagne, no more red eye flights across the country at the drop of a hat. The rock 'n' roll lifestyle—gone in an instant.

My eyes burn, and I just want to sleep away the misery, pretend that it's not there. "You can probably look at the first one."

Elvis leans over the counter, tilting the stick towards him. There's no hesitation, and I watch as he releases the breath he was holding, the burden he had been preparing to shoulder slipping from his shoulders.

"It's negative. There's only one line."

I jump up from the floor, almost not believing him, but sure enough, when I look, there's only one faint pink line on the test. "Oh, thank God."

Elvis immediately hugs me into his side, the test still clenched in my hand, and I can feel the tension leaking out of both of us. With the moment of peril now behind us, I see our lives returning back to normal once again. The future we had once imagined comes back into view.

However, the relief lasts for only a short lived second. He turns back towards the counter, and I feel Elvis' arm slide from around me. "Baby... this one's got two."

I turn to the counter top as well to peer at the second test in his hand. Two bold pink lines stare back at us. Without a word spoken between us, he snatches the third test, the other clattering into the sink as he drops it. It's hardly been enough time for the last one to develop, but there are already two obvious lines.

My stomach drops. Hands shaking, I pick up the one Elvis had discarded in his previous haste and hold them side by side. Two positive tests. All I can do is stand there, staring at the lines.

This cannot be happening.

Out of the corner of my eye, I am dimly aware of Elvis beside me. His figure hovers in the mirror's reflection, unmoving for a while, his perfect face ashen. He drags his hands through his jet black hair, swearing. "Fuck."

This cannot be happening.

Elvis moves behind me, doubling over the toilet and vomiting. Pensively, I watch him through the mirror. Trembling and shaking, with a sheen of sweat glimmering on his brow, he hunches over, expelling the contents of his stomach. He comes back up coughing and sputtering, his knuckles white against the bathroom counter while he wipes his mouth. He steadies himself for a moment, sucks in a breath of air and closes his eyes before he leans over to retch again. His shoulders shudder with the force of making his body convulse repeatedly.

I close my eyes until he's finished, feeling nauseous myself. Eventually his retching stops and the toilet flushes. He pushes in front of me now, leaning over the sink to splash cold water onto his face.

"What're we going to do?" I whisper faintly.

What the hell were we going to do?

We were young, unmarried, and had been so, so careful. We used protection, avoided certain windows of my cycle when I was most fertile...how could we have been so careless?

My daddy would kill us, no doubt. Elvis' mama would probably cry; she'd raised her son on good southern morals. 'Yes sir' and 'No ma'am', shoes off at the door, church on Sunday, and now he was having a baby out of wedlock. The Colonel was a whole different story. He'd have a stroke. A baby wasn't good for show business. He'd likely swear to Elvis, cursing him for fostering our relationship in the first place. He hadn't liked me before, and he really wasn't going to like me now.

Sniffing, Elvis braces himself against the basin of the sink. His cheeks are still flushed, his head hung low. "I dunno, darlin'. I dunno."

Elvis proposes the next day. He had left the house so swiftly that night that I'd feared he'd run off, leaving me as my mother had sworn he would do when the grass looked greener on the other side. But he returned to me with the only ring that he could find on such short notice and a promise that we'd make it work together.

I cry. He cries. Gladys cries, as I predicted. But she then hugs the both of us, swearing that she will be there for whatever we may need. My parents kick me out in a series of screaming matches and slamming doors, and I move into Graceland. Despite the Colonel's fears, Elvis' career only grows.

And then comes Christmas. Christmas at Graceland was like walking into a place that you would swear as built solely for the purpose of hosting such a holiday. The mansion transformed into a winter wonderland filled with elaborately decorated evergreen trees and tinsel and a perpetually burning fireplace. There were very few nights that ended without the lot of us gathered around the fireplace, sharing news and sipping mugs of steaming hot chocolate.

Each night, Elvis would recline back into his daddy's plush armchair after a long day of composing and recording and spread the expanse of his thighs just enough for me to settle between them. He'd hum, rocking us back and forth for hours, pressing kisses to my hairline whilst conversing lowly with the Colonel and his daddy or Jerry and Sonny.

Tonight, he's got his temple braced against his fingertips, rubbing circles into my arm with his other hand, chuckling as Red animatedly reenacts a conversation he had with a couple fans the other day. Gladys shuffles by us, patting his cheek fondly on her way past before she settles down into her own chair by the fire. A muted knock echos from the front door, and Elvis waves Jerry away with his hand to get it. Other members of the Mafia howl with laughter as Red continues on with his story, pretending to faint onto the sofa. Elvis' chest rumbles against my back.

Amidst the laughter occurring in the living room, Jerry reappears at the end of the hallway. "EP, it's for you."

Flicking his hand dismissively again, Elvis gestures again for Jerry to just deal with whoever it is. It was late and probably just the likes of a stray reporter.

I notice that Jerry's face is pale and ghastly, as though he's seen a ghost. He remains frozen, like a deer caught in the headlights.

Huffing once he realizes that Jerry isn't going to answer the door, Elvis eases himself up from the recliner with a sigh, affectionately squeezing my side as he goes. He slides past Jerry, who hasn't moved from the hallway.

"Jerry?" I ask cautiously as I cross the room. "Jerry, is everything alright?" He clenches his jaw sharply as he finally meets my eyes but remains silent. From over his shoulder, I can see Elvis standing in the doorway.

There's a soldier dressed in military plaid on the other side of the threshold. Snow swirls around him, turning his dark green uniform white. I can't hear their conversation from where I'm standing, but eventually the soldier salutes him and disappears into the dark snowy abyss of the driveway. Elvis watches him go, staring down at something in his hands. Gusts of wind carry snow in through the open door.

Usually I would scold him for standing idly in the doorway, letting the cold air in, but my mouth is almost too dry to speak. "Elvis?"

Slowly, he turns around, his own face echoing the look on Jerry's. His blues eyes are emotionless and glassy. He stares right through me, as though I'm not even there. "I'm bein' drafted.."

Around us, the room falls silent. It is no longer Christmas at Graceland.

—

"Are you ready to see Daddy?" I ask, tugging gently on the little hand attached to my own. Claudia jumps up and down, her heavy winter boots clobbering against the train station platform.

"See train?" she asks, reaching for Vernon's hand. "See train?"

The older man laughs and takes her outstretched hand, pointing in the direction of the tracks. A passenger train is rolling into the station. "That's right. Your daddy's on the train."

Gladys and I smile across anxiously at each other. We'd been waiting for this day for so long. We had grown immensely close in the past two years. After Elvis had left for Germany, she'd become my saving grace in raising Claudia. I don't know what I would have done without her. Probably cry much much more than I did, that's for sure.

The train breaks screech to a stop in front of us, and a storm of people begin milling out of the train carts. We had tried to keep the news of Elvis' return private, but newspapers had gotten wind of it and now there were dozens of reporters waiting along with us. For a moment I worry that he's going to get swept into it all before we even see him. But then I see his face amongst the crowd.

We make eye contact and Elvis' blue eyes light up, that perfect smile appearing on his face. In several long strides, he breaks through the crowd and drops his bags as soon as he reaches us, engulfing me in his arms. Like a big dog that doesn't know his own strength, he nearly knocks me off my feet, but his hold on my body is strong. The hand on my back stabilizes me as he nuzzles his nose into my neck, inhaling into my skin. I can feel his hot breath against my neck, and I have to remind myself that we're in public.

When Elvis pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, eyes glimmering with pure adoration. "S'good to be home, Satnin," he rumbles.

I just laugh breathlessly, my heart thumping with elation. "It's good to have you."

After our shared moment, his attention is almost immediately diverted to the little girl hanging on to Vernon's arm behind us. Elvis drops to his heels and crouches down in front of her, smiling warmly. "You miss me, little girl?"

Claudia stares at him, taking in the man crouched before her. He's massive in comparison, the unyielding material of his crisp sergeants uniform only serving to widen his frame. Her lip quivers.

"Clauds, it's Daddy," Elvis tries, the strain in his voice evident. He holds his hand out to her.

Reacting to his movement, Claudia shifts her body away from him and behind Vernon, a whine coming from the back of her throat.

His handsome face falls when she looks away from him and instead to me, her little grey eyes confused, a little afraid even. I can sense the oncoming panicked reaction before it even happens and am reaching out to Claudia a split second before her little hands grab for me, seeking the comfort of my sweater.

I pull her gently into my arms, hushing her before she can start crying. "It's okay, baby," I try to soothe her, rocking my body softly from side to side. Fortunately, it's enough to extinguish the meltdown before it occurs, and the toddler relaxes in my arms.

I look back up to Elvis once her cries diminish. He's trying so hard not to show it, but I see the pain that flashes across his face. It looks like someone has stabbed him. And now he's just crouching there on the ground, bleeding out. Elvis looks away with a uncharacteristic sniff, shaking his head to mask the pain on his face.

"Let’s go home, yeah?” he says abruptly, putting his hands on his knees and standing up. The rest of us trade apprehensive glances as he gathers his luggage.

“Elvis—”

“I said, let’s go home,” he interrupts me, steely blue eyes locking with mine as he comes to stand before me.

With Claudia in my arms, I swallow thickly and nod. “Okay,” I agree meekly.

At home we have a quiet dinner, Elvis’ family and the entire Memphis Mafia gathered together to enjoy the meal Gladys made. It’s pleasant, really, it is. We laugh and listen to the stories that Elvis shares with us of his time in the service, and he tries to ignore that Claudia won’t sit beside him at the table; that she clings desperately to anyone who isn’t him the entire evening. I try to get him to put her down to bed, but he refuses with the excuse that it would be better for me to do so, and that he’s really too tired anyhow.

And so the both of us are immensely perplexed when the two year old erupts into screaming whilst I carry her to the nursery, as she had been attached to me all evening. I rock her, I feed her, I read to her, but nothing I do consoles her. Truthfully, I am at the point of crying myself when Elvis walks in.

“Here, darlin’. Give ‘er to me,” he encourages gently as he comes up behind me, rubbing his large hands down my shoulders. I pass Claudia, red faced and screaming, over to him. Elvis cradles her against his chest, swaying his body slowly from side to side as he shushes her. Claudia wails louder.

“Baby, she’s not—”

Elvis closes his eyes and begins humming.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help

Falling in love with you

Claudia has stopped screaming, her cries diminishing into soft whimpers as Elvis sways with her. Slowly, as not to jostle her, he leans his torso down into her crib and detaches her fists from his shirt. Her tiny lips part into a snore as he finally sets her down.

When Elvis turns around, he’s still humming. Only now he’s murmuring the words as he puts a hand on my hip and grabs my hand, swaying us to the smooth hum of his voice.

For I can’t help

Falling in love with you

#elvis presley #elvis 2022 #elvis presley fic #elvis presley imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #austin elvis imagine #austin!elvis x y/n #austin!elvis fluff #austin!elvis presley x reader

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princess-leaorgana · 4 months

Text

What Tieflings Do Chptr 7

Summary: After the takedown of The Absolute, Zelphie finds her city in need of more help and her home destroyed. She won't stop helping, but who can help her?

Rolan x Tav (Zelphie; ~30y.o AFAB, Sorcerer, Tiefling, not really described physically on purpose <3)

M/F

Author's Note: I fucking love tielfings. Along with this being a budding romance/smut/fluff/word vomit fanfiction, it's also my case study in DnD 5e tieflings, how they act, what sets them apart from humans and devils and elves. That being said, I have a few artistic liberties in here as well where I couldn't find a straight answer, if you'll amuse me.

Warnings - Spoilers for Baldur's Gate 3, Smut in this chapter, tiefling racism, little bit of angst

Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six

‘Come in.’

Rolan’s study was his little hideaway. Although Zelphie loved being invited there, when she was not, she meant to keep her distance. She meant to give him his privacy, for his studies and experiments were very important to him. However, she had just received an urgent message from Duke Florrick, Zelphie was needed for an expedition to The Cloakwood. This wasn’t the first of these she had been on, Scouts from the Flaming Fist were given a task and Zelphie was given the role of protecting them. Not usually did they run into any issues, but once anyone knew the person escorting the Fist was the person who defeated an Elderbrain and The Dead Three’s Chosen, they never attempted to put up a fight. Zelphie was usually just a bluff. She would report by morning and as the day was already late, so she would have to interrupt him. She opened the door and found him standing, hunched over a desk, dissecting something. She didn’t want to know. He glanced up at her and smiled.

‘Hello you,’ he said and looked back down at his work. She smiled back to him and walked over to his desk to place the letter down, her eyes shifting away from his experiment.

‘Good evening, I miss you,’ she said and Rolan picked up the letter she had placed down and removed a pair of magnifying spectacles from his face. ‘Duke Florrick is sending me on a two day trip to Cloakwood tomorrow. Should be easy, I’ve been there with the Fist before, normal delivery. Mostly walking,’ she said and Rolan read the letter. He glanced up at her when he finished.

‘And you told her no?’ He asked, handing her the letter back. Zelphie frowned and shook her head.

‘Of course not, why would I pass this up?’ She asked him, as if it was an illogical question. It was, as Rolan would always be, perfectly logical. Zelphie wasn’t incredibly well. In fact, she had an appointment with a home visit nurse the next day, which would have to be canceled if she went on this trip. She was also ill, and had been for about a week. She was incredibly tired and would get sick twice a day. She had no fever and had a great appetite. Rolan knew exactly what was wrong with her, and truth be told he was having a hard time with it. Zelphie assumed what was going on but neither of them were talking about it. Any person could see, along with her physical symptoms and her trigger happy sensitivity, that Zelphie was pregnant. Lia and Cal were tip toeing around the subject as well. It would also explain her weight gain, everything fit perfectly into the puzzle. So, naturally, Rolan was not happy for her to go.

‘Because, as lovely as the Flaming Fist are, you are more important than them,’ he told her simply. ‘You are not strong enough right now, my darling,’ he told her and she scowled, pointing her finger at a battle dummy, striking it with a bolt of lightning. The dummy was left singed and toppled over. Rolan frowned, understanding her point instantly. ‘I didn’t mean like that. You know I didn’t. These last few weeks, your magic has been incredibly powerful-‘

‘Then what did you mean?’ She asked him quickly and he sighed.

‘Powerful magic, plus the inability to control it and a weakened body doesn’t make you strong,’ he told her quickly. ‘It makes you weak, you are weak right now, not only could you get hurt, you would do a disservice to the Fist.’ Zelphie crossed her arms, fuming. ‘There are plenty of mercenaries out there who can help while we find out how to make you better,’ he told her and placed his spectacles back on the bridge of his nose.

‘You cannot forbid me to go,’ she told him stubbornly and he nodded.

‘You are correct, but I can wish it. I will be incredibly unhappy if you go, and I may insist on coming with you,’ he told her. It was strange how they had flipped their conversation as of late. Zelphie was now the hot head and Rolan had learned to control his anger, he did it only for Zelphie. Everyone else bore the brunt of it. Poor Cal. ‘I will write to Florrick on your behalf, if you are feeling guilty, I know that’s why you are upset,’ he told her and she huffed. He was right, and that was annoying. This wasn’t an incredibly important journey, any ranger in the city could assist. Zelphie still felt like she owed her city something. He glanced up at her, waiting for her argument. She didn’t have one. She just didn’t like him telling her what to do. He was absolutely correct, but she was struggling to accept that. ‘I will write to Florrick,’ he settled and went back to his work. Zelphie stomped her foot and turned around to leave. ‘I love you,’ Rolan called and she grumbled back at him. She wanted to hit him.

He was right, she had no right putting herself and others in danger. But what was the point of her anymore if she wasn’t to do anything? Besides a little check-up the next day, she had nothing. She could easily have stayed in Rolan’s office and either helped or learned something, but she was in a terrible mood. So, she would do what her body was telling her, go and eat.

Lia was in the kitchen, apparently having the same idea as Zelphie, she was picking at some sort of leg, probably a cow. Lia turned and looked at her, sucking something off of her thumb.

‘You look pissed,’ she said bluntly and Zelphie walked to the ice box and rummaged. She wanted something sour.

‘Because I am,’ she said back and Lia sighed.

‘When is your appointment again? Please tell me it’s in two minutes,’ she said and rolled her eyes and Zelphie shot a look at her. She slammed the ice box door and walked out of the kitchen and headed to the main living area. She should have gone to her room, since her mood was only getting worse, but that’s where she stomped off to. She sat on a large sofa and crossed her arms, angry as a toddler before their nap. Lajy wandered into the room, his tail up and curled over and he hustled to his mother. He always had impeccable timing. Zelphie broke down into tears and opened her arms for the cat, who purred in her lap and rubbed himself on her furiously. He was a lovely boy, terribly cuddly when he was needed.

‘You’re on my side, aren’t you Lajy?’ She asked the cat and she cried, rubbing his head. She laid on her side and cuddled him, crying and listening to him purr. ‘You don’t hate me, do you?’ She asked and the cat butted her head with his and she kissed his forehead. She just let herself cry and be comforted by the cat, looking down at her hand, rubbing her emerald for comfort. She knew deep down no one in the tower hated her. She was being very hard to live with. Still, for the past dozen days, Zelphie was no longer privy to the intelligent part of her brain. Only paranoid, raw emotions. She wasn’t alone for very long before Rolan appeared in the living room. She closed her eyes, refusing to look at him. She felt him walk over, his heavy robes making a low swishing sound with every footstep. He knelt down in front of her and placed a gentle hand on her head.

‘Would you enjoy a little fresh air with me?’ He asked her and she sniffed and opened her eyes. He looked so tired, but he was smiling at her.

‘Are you going for a walk?’ She asked him and he nodded.

‘I need to clear my head and air out my office. I hoped you would want to join me,’ he told her, knowing the exact right thing to say. She kissed Lajy’s head, still crying a little.

‘Come little one, walk with mummy and daddy,’ she said and Rolan’s smile grew. He stood up and helped her up. She hugged him tight as soon as she was up and she felt his arms around her. ‘I love you too, Rolan,’ she said and he laughed lightly and kissed her forehead.

The day went on like normal, Rolan did go back to his studies, but Zelphie felt better and had a cup of tea with Lia. The sisters teased each other and Lia got a little game going to try to see how many times she could make Zelphie laugh before Zelphie would either cry, lose control of her bladder, or at least fall over. Losing control of her bladder went first, and Zelphie excused herself for the night.

In the morning, for her appointment Zelphie dressed in a light wrap dress for the cleric’s ease. Rolan brought the cleric up to their bedroom to inspect Zelphie. He genuinely hated bringing strangers up this far in the tower, but it was a medical necessity, he would allow it for Zelphie’s privacy. The cleric was an older woman, a human, which made Zelphie a little uncomfortable, but the woman was kind and soft.

‘Your husband told me all of your symptoms the other day, and normally I make my visits fast, but after we spoke, I really don’t think this is much of an emergency,’ she explained and placed her bag on the bed. ‘Go on and lay down for me,’ she said and Zelphie did as she was told. Rolan walked closer but attempted to stay out of the way. ‘Master Rolan says you are tired, emotional, you're up sick a lot?’ She asked and Zelphie nodded.

‘Yes,’ she said simply and the cleric laid both of her hands on Zelphie’s stomach and pressed gently. The woman smiled and closed her eyes. Zelphie instantly felt warm and a faint yellow glow appeared by the woman’s fingers and on Zelphie’s stomach. The glow and warmth went away after a moment and the woman laughed a little. ‘I don’t know you from the freckles on my elbow, but my guess is that this is your first, sweetie,’ she said softly. ‘You can get up now, we’re done here,’ she said and Zelphie frowned. She got up and looked at Rolan. ‘Actually, why don’t you two take a seat,’ she said and Rolan sat next to Zelphie and took her hand. Once all was settled, the woman clasped her hands together. ‘It’s my honor to tell you that you have a wee one on the way.’ Zelphie’s mind went blank. Rolan was looking down at her, the woman was still speaking, but she couldn’t get past that. A baby. A wee one. She was pregnant. How could that be? She couldn’t be a mother. No, not her. Lajy was her baby, not an actual baby. How could she have a baby?

The poor cleric was still speaking, but Zelphie wasn’t understanding anything. She placed a hand on her belly and looked over at Rolan, who was just staring at her. She couldn’t really read his face, his eye contact was intense and his jaw was a little tight. He looked as though he was going to pop. He looked back at the cleric and responded to a question she had asked, but Zelphie kept looking at him, at his profile. His strong brow, his sharp jaw, the way his fangs caught the light as he spoke. He was going to be a father, a father to her child. Not just any baby, hers. He had gotten her pregnant. She would make him a father. Rolan stood up and Zelphie blinked, taken out of her trance.

‘Well, this will be my most pleasant visit today, that is for certain,’ she said as Rolan walked her out.

‘I don’t think I could use those same words myself, your visit today was nothing short of a miracle. A visit for a lifetime, thank you,’ he said and the cleric left, quicker than she had come. With that little visit, Zelphie’s whole world had changed. The door to their bedroom shut and Rolan turned around. Zelphie stood off of the bed and walked over to him and he held up a hand to stop her. She stopped and was nervous. He walked over to her. ‘No more walking for you,’ he said and very quickly and with little effort, he scooped Zelphie up, cradling her and walking her right back to bed. She squeaked as she was lifted suddenly.

‘Rolan!’ She squealed and he placed her on the bed, but before anything else, he kissed her. He was happy. She was very happy but had almost forgotten about Rolan. She didn’t know if he wanted children, he had never seemed like a man who liked children. Though, that was a shallow thought. Rolan was a hero to all of the refuge tiefling children in Baldur’s Gate. It was he who saved all of them in the Shadowfell. He was obviously a family man, but a man who would coo over a little baby? She wasn’t so sure. A man who wanted a little one? She had no idea. Now she had some kind of feeling he might have wanted that. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed into their kiss.

‘Oh my darling, my love,’ he muttered, kissing her. ‘I can’t believe this, I knew it, but I still can’t believe it,’ he said, his voice shaking. She pulled away and placed her hands on his face. His face contorted and he sobbed. ‘I never ever thought this would be my life,’ he said through tears and hers followed immediately. ‘Thank you, thank you,’ he placed his forehead onto hers and she laughed as she cried.

‘Oh Rolan, I’m so happy. You really want a child? A little snotty baby that will grow into a grubby little toddler?’ She asked and his wavered smile just grew. He nodded.

‘If that child is my child with my Zelphie, by gods yes,’ he said and sniffed and she kissed him once more. Their lips crash together, all of their emotions coming out physically. As they kissed, Zelphie’s legs hooked around Rolan’s. Rolan sat up and with ease of his forefinger, unwrapped Zelphie’s dress. She bit her lip and looked up at him, but he was looking at her body. He placed his hand where the cleric had and Zelphie grinned. ‘Is she here?’ He asked softly, his voice shaking. She. Zelphie sniffed and took his hand and moved it down, under her navel. ‘Right, right, that makes sense,’ he said and leaned down. He kissed her skin and Zelphie could have melted. ‘Hello in there,’ he whispered and Zelphie was a puddle, crying again. This was a wonderful moment. She’d never been happier, not for a long, long time.

‘Oh Rolan,’ she said softly and ran her hand through his hair, but he wasn’t done talking to the hard little spot under her navel.

‘I hope you can hear me, you and I need to have a little chat. Listen, you’ve been making your mother an emotional wreck, and I won’t tolerate that kind of behavior in this home,’ he went off and Zelphie screamed a laugh. Rolan felt silly doing it, which was not something he ever liked doing, but it made her laugh. ‘You’ll behave or I promise I will come in there,’ he said and that sent Zelphie over the edge. She kicked, her tears now from the uncontrollable laughter.

‘Rolan! Stop!’ She begged through tears and laughter. He chuckled and crawled back up to her and kissed her neck, tickling her. ‘Rolan!’ She squealed and he lifted his head enough to speak into her ear.

‘I love you,’ he said and she wrapped her arms around him.

‘I love you more,’ she told him, and he nipped at her earlobe and she sighed happily. ‘Mmmm…when you bite me, it’s like a little brand, right?’ She asked and he hummed in response, nipping and kissing her skin. ‘And you always make sure it’s in an area I can hide, like my thigh or my back or my bum,’ she said and he hummed again. ‘Pretty soon, one of your little marks will be very hard to hide,’ she told him playfully and he lifted her head to look at her properly. ‘The baby,’ she explained and Rolan leaned down and kissed her lips. The baby would grow and it would become very obvious to everyone around. Zelphie was very happy about it, but Rolan would be warned that proof of their sex life was about to be public. Clearly, he didn’t care. She felt his finger loop around her underwear and pull on them gently. Zelphie lifted her hips so he could remove them. He kissed down her neck and she purred loudly for him. She was stupidly happy, delirious with joy.

‘Oh,’ she cooed as she felt Rolan’s fingers in her middle. He was delicate with his fingers, careful of his claw as his forefinger stroked her. She was incredibly sensitive. That was just fine with Rolan. Her hips pushed against his fingers a little and she felt his fangs digging into her collarbone. She hissed and her hips bucked again. Her tail curled up between his legs and rubbed up against him. She cursed his robes, he always had to dress so well. He moaned softly but continued his work, stimulating her clit, and making a mess of her collarbone. She ground her hips and he chuckled.

‘Don’t you tell me you’re already so undone,’ he muttered and tutted playfully. She rubbed herself against him, begging for more. ‘My darling is soaking, is that what I do to you, hm?’

‘Yes Rolan, you ruin me,’ she whimpered. She was desperate. The phenomenal news was coursing through her and evolving into pure instinct. His dominance, taking complete control over her and the situation. She was turned on more than she could remember ever being. She was so in love with Rolan, but the added situation that he had impregnated her was scratching an itch she didn’t know she had. She always felt a flutter when Rolan showed off his power, magical and physical, but this? She’d never thought of him more powerful. It took two to make a baby, but in one action, Rolan changed her life for good. Forever.

‘Let us just see how sensitive my little wife is,’ he said and she whimpered. ‘Shhhh…no need to beg, I’m here,’ he said and kissed down her torso. She opened her eyes and looked down at him. He was so beautiful. She was hyper focused on his face as she breathed through the warm sensation she was feeling. His eyes flashed to hers as he lowered his face to her middle. She felt light headed. He ran his tongue firmly from her hole to her clitoris and her eyes rolled back into her heat. Just hearing him licking her, up and down, was sending her over the edge. Her tail was coiled tightly around his upper thigh. ‘So needy,’ he muttered, holding her thighs down and open for him. She sighed, as if gasped for air. She was terribly close.

‘Oh gods dammit,’ she muttered. That familiar tingle in her toes, a warmth rushed over her. He was barely doing a damn thing. His hands on her thigh refused to move as she attempted to writhe her hips and the legs. He did make sure now to just give her clot attention, his warm breath quick as his tongue. She wanted it but she was a little angry he had gotten her so quickly. ‘Rolan,’ she whimpered and grabbed one of his horns to brace herself, as he pinned her to the bed. Warm, wet ecstasy ran through her, gushing from her. Normally, Rolan would slow down, allowing her to ride out her orgasm, but his new ego wasn’t going to let her go. She kicked as he kept going. His one hand was holding down on her mound, making sure she didn’t slip from him, spreading her lips as he tormented her.

‘Relax,’ he whispered, not removing his mouth from her. Her hips bucked and she howled, her hips bucking, and he laughed.

‘Ro,’ she whimpered. He finally let her go and her body convulsed. Electricity shot out of her fingertips, little sparks and Rolan growled happily.

‘Beautiful, that’s my girl,’ he sat up and wiped his face. She caught her breath and he laughed again. ‘What a mess,’ he tutted and she felt the burn marks she had left on the sheets. She felt guilt, but her euphoria was so much higher. She caught her breath and he gently traced her thigh with his claw, making her shiver and twitch.

‘Rolan,’ she whimpered and he smiled. ‘Damn you,’ she said and he smirked. She placed her hand on her forehead. He just watched her, watched his work, reveling in what he had done to Zelphie. She looked up at him and tilted her head at him. ‘Are you going to make a mess with me?’ She asked. He was fully dressed, his hair was a little messier than before. He grinned and tilted his head back.

‘What do you mean by that?’ He asked her, his voice so soft and low. She pouted up at him. He laughed again. ‘Was that not enough?’ He asked her and got up on her elbows.

‘Are you going to make me beg? Me? Your pregnant wife?’ She asked and Rolan’s face fell. He cleared his throat and regained his composure. He knew she was guilting him, but the phrase his pregnant wife stopped his heart. He took her hand and leaned over to kiss it. Zelphie pulled his hand. She wanted to kiss him. She got what she wanted. His lips crashed to hers and she got her hand wedged between their bodies, finding his erection through his robes. He sighed softly into her mouth. He sat up a little, fussing with his robes, pushing them up enough so he could quickly enter her. Zelphie gasped, not thinking he wouldn’t even get undressed. He thrusted quickly, watching her bounce under him. ‘Fuck, fuck,’ she cried and Rolan placed his forehead on hers and she bit her bottom lip, keeping eye contact with him. ‘I love you, I love you,’ she whispered and he groaned, quickening his pace. This was perfect for her, Rolan selfishly rutting on her. He had the length, the girth and the texture of a teifling, so it felt incredible, but she liked it when he acted like this. Desperate, untamed. She couldn’t explain it, but him fucking her, desperate for an orgasm, for a release, it excited her to no end. The sounds he made, the way he held her, his claws in her hips. She could smell him. She closed her eyes and she felt his hand on her neck.

‘Look at me,’ he said, his voice gruff. Her orange eyes opened to see his yellow ones looking right back. His brows were knitted together in concentration. She kept eye contact until his eyes shut.

‘I love you,’ she told him, knowing he was close. ‘I love you, Rolan,’ she moaned and kissed his neck. His hand on her hip and his hand on her neck tightened. A guttural moan and shiver came from him and after two hard thrusts, he slowed dramatically. She leaned up to kiss him and he kissed her back, softly, he was spent. She giggled and rubbed her legs against his. He peppered her face with little kisses and she continued to giggle.

‘All mine, mine, mine,’ he whispered and she nuzzled her nose to his.

‘No, mine,’ she said and caught his lips once more. He sat up with a groan and gave her backside a little pat.

‘Well, now that that is out of my system,’ he said and she laughed. He looked her over as he pulled his robes back down to cover himself again. ‘You and I have some planning and chatting to do,’ he said and she sat up with him, covering herself up.

‘Oh? Chatting about what?’ She asked him and reached over to fix a lock of his hair.

‘About you, and myself, we’re going to need to change how things are run here, certainly. I can have you in the shop still, but…’ he began and she frowned. Uhoh. ‘No more…excursions,’ he told her, it was a kind request, or demand, but Zelphie did frown. ‘I don’t want to argue about this, so please, let me explain myself. I’m not trying to control you, although, truly, sometimes I wish I could,’ he expressed and her brows furrowed. ‘But…you cannot be, you and I are very different people. You go and you have friends and you have your adventures, and I do love that about you. I love that we are different. You’ve shown me a different way of life. Since we met, you have shown me how to…’ he sighed and shook his head. ‘And I have tried to give you your life. I wish for you to do what you want, be independent, but now…’ Zelphie watched him carefully. Rolan was correct, as controlling and brooding as he was, the homebody, the sage, he did allow her whatever freedoms she wanted. She knew it killed him for her to be gone for days on end. Once or twice she had come back in worse shape than she had left and she knew he hated it. But he, as much as someone like Rolan could, bit his tongue. He had compromised with her every single time, with little arguments every once and a while. ‘I don’t-’ he cleared his throat and held her hands. ‘I don’t want to put you in a box, in a display case, don’t think that’s what I am asking. But…when I don’t know where you are, I can’t breathe,’ he said and rubbed her knuckles. Zelphie’s face softened a little.

‘I used to live worse than this,’ she assured him and he sighed.

‘I know, but that doesn’t mean you should go back. Would you be very happy if I returned to Avernus?’ He asked her quickly and she stared up at him. ‘I survived Avernus, so surely, I can survive everything, is that what you think?’ She shook her head. ‘I’m not saying you are not capable, but if capability meant one hundred percent success every single time…well, that can’t be. You will get hurt, you have gotten hurt. One day, that hurt might…’ he trailed off and chewed his lip. ‘Yesterday, losing you meant a lot of pain for me. And of course Lia and Cal and all of your friends, but I only cared about my pain. Now? Darling, I don’t want for our child what was given to us,’ he said and Zelphie just looked at him. She looked down for a moment. ‘When I picture myself as a parent, I picture myself giving every single thing on this planet I can to my child, would you promise the same?’

‘Of course I do,’ she said and her mind rattled. He was absolutely correct. She was preparing for a little fight, one where she would win, he couldn’t tell her what to do. She was not his caged pet, she was his partner. But his point, like usual, was logical. She was having a baby, making her a mother. Her priorities needed to shift. It wasn’t about her anymore, or even Rolan. She placed her hand on her lower belly. ‘I…you’re right,’ she said softly and she felt Rolan’s lips on her forehead.

‘And don’t think for a moment that I’m excluded in that. My work will take a step back. No longer will I be locked away in my study, all hours of the day, though, I will admit, I do need to take up reading on a subject I have yet to ever read on,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘I’ll be more present, I’ll make you sick of me,’ he told her and she smiled a little.

‘I suppose the man with every script written in Faerun needs to go book shopping,’ she said and he laughed.

‘Indeed,’ he said and rubbed her hand.

‘I promise to…act a bit more like a mother might,’ she said and Rolan shook his head.

‘You already have fantastic maternal instincts,’ he told her and she smiled a little. ‘You are the most loving person I have ever met, giving selfless. The reason you want for your adventures is to help others,’ he explained and she buried her face in his shoulder and he laughed again. ‘Don’t feel like you need to give me any credit either,’ he said as he wrapped his arms around her. Zelphie laughed and shook her head.

‘You know well enough you have much more parental instinct than I do,’ she said and looked up at him. ‘You at least know what family feels like, I’m very new to it, and I only have it because of you,’ she told him and he leaned down to kiss her.

‘And before anything else, there is one more thing I would like to ask you,’ he said and Zelphie just looked up at him. ‘Before you become the only one in this whole tower entitled to ask for anything, of course,‘ he said and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. ‘Could we tell Cal and Lia?’ He asked and she blinked a few times, waiting for the favor. It never came, that was it. She threw back her head and laughed.

‘Yes! You idiot!’ She laughed and he grinned. She stood up quickly, fixing herself, her linen dress completely ruined by their little romp. He got up with her and helped her and she fixed his cowl. ‘They probably already know,’ she said and the couple walked out hand in hand. Cal and Lia most certainly already knew. Everyone knew. Zelphie knew very well, as did Rolan. They knew about her appointment, and were waiting impatiently in the sitting room. Lia had her arms crossed and was pacing. Cal was staring out a window. They both swiveled to Rolan and Zelphie’s attention when they entered. Cal hurried right over, his eyes darting between his brother and sister-in-law.

‘Well?’ He asked and Zelphie’s heart beat quickly. Zelphie looked up at Rolan. She was going to burst, but they were his siblings. He would have the honors. Rolan smiled and looked down at Zelphie and then over to his brother and sister. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lia jumped in.

‘YOU’RE PREGNANT!’ She shouted and put her hands over her mouth. Usually Lia was boisterous, but that had clearly been an exciting accident. Thank goodness she had been correct.

‘Yes, thank you, Lia,’ Rolan said, his face falling into an annoyed frown. Lia enveloped her brother into a hug quickly and Rolan hugged her back. Zelphie watched the pair before she got her own hug, a big one from Cal. Zelphie hugged him back.

‘Thank you for making me an uncle,’ he said happily and Lia squealed, hugging Rolan tighter and he groaned.

‘Aunt Lia and Uncle Cal! Oh! And mommy and daddy, oh I can not believe it!’ She squealed and kissed Rolan’s cheeks. Rolan got out of her hug and pushed her away gently.

‘Would you give me a little room for air?’ He asked his sister, who just took to hugging Zelphie. Zelphie welcomed the hugs and kisses and Cal hugged Rolan. Zelphie just hugged Lia tight.

‘Good thing you two didn’t have a wedding, saves money for baby, oh I’m so excited! When? How far along are you? Oh! Are you feeling alright? You should sit,’ Lia rambled and Zelphie laughed.

‘I don’t know, I didn’t ask, it feels early though,’ she said as Lia pulled her to sit on the couch. ‘But I’m fine, a little tired, but fine. Not like I thought it would be,’ she said and looked up at Rolan, who was just beaming.

‘I’ll go get something bubbly from the kitchen,’ Cal said and then faltered a little. ‘Oh, uhm…can..c-can you have something bubbly?’ He asked and Zelphie grinned.

‘No, no she can’t,’ Rolan said and Zelphie huffed. Rolan looked down at her. ‘And I won’t either,’ he said before she could argue. Lia sat with Zelphie and put a hand in hers.

‘Then none of us will, it’s fine,’ she said and squeezed Zelphie’s hand.

‘You three are absolutely too much,’ Zelphie sighed. She was incredibly lucky.

For the next few days, Zelphie and Rolan could be called obsessed with their new journey. Rolan spent a lot of money on not only items for the baby, but many things for Zelphie as well, different potions and foods and drinks and oils for her to keep strong, happy and healthy. If Zelphie had thought he was overbearing before, she’d never thought about him like this. A lot of it was too much for her to deal with, hovering over her like a hawk, giving her unwanted advice over everything, like he usually was but harder. Though, it came with a lot of perks, like taking care of her and being around more often. Rolan’s sexual appetite was still alive and well, but he was so much softer and caring. He was very caring, nurturing to Zelphie, taking care of her in the bath, rubbing her back and staying by her side when she was sick, massaging her before bed, all of it. She certainly wouldn’t complain as she was pampered.

A hot afternoon hit Baldur’s Gate as Zelphie was obsessing over what was her previous room. She had used the room for about twenty days in total before sharing a bedroom with Rolan, now it was just a room for her privacy. It went unused mostly. Zelphie was now found here most of the time. Lajy was with her as she was tending to a little garden area on the balcony. Tiefling babies had a very careful diet, and Zelphie was very happy to grow herbs and vegetables to help with the little ones’ diet and health. Six months wasn’t the longest time to plan. In the corner of the bedroom, Zelphie’s mage hands were knitting a yellow blanket. She was also very happy to make things for the little one, where Rolan would purchase. Some things Zelphie couldn’t make, but a few pillows and blankets and nappies were doable. A knock on the door and Zelphie stood up to see Lia in the doorway.

‘Hey, I was hoping we could go for a walk?’ Lia suggested and Zelphie smiled and nodded.

‘I would love that, all done for today?’ She asked and wiped her hands of dirt and Lia nodded.

‘Yes, and the last couple that came in did me in, they were bitching about every single thing in the world, I need to cool off,’ she said and Zelphie grinned.

‘Did you bite their heads off?’ She asked, removing her apron and Lia laughed.

‘You know I’ll get in trouble, so I just gave them to Cal and walked away,’ she said and Zelphie snickered.

‘Oh, and I’m sure they’re in love with him now,’ she said and Lia nodded. The two left the tower and began their walk down the Upper City.

‘I could have scratched their eyes out!’ Lia was still going on about the older couple who had come into the shop. Zelphie was just letting her rant, that was all that was needed. Zelphie worked with the public before and had her share of stories about problem customers. Though, some of her problem customers would have been abusers, so Zelphie would keep those stories to herself. She never told Cal and Lia about her previous work, before the kidnapping. She had barely mentioned it to Rolan once and he almost lost it.

‘Maybe one of these days you should, what did they even want?’ Zelphie asked, getting a little distracted with the smell of food in the marketplace. Her tail curled up a little.

‘I couldn’t tell you if I tried, it was as if every single time they asked a question and I answered them, they were looking for something completely new! It was awful, I’m working the counter tomorrow, fuck Rolan’s unperson,’ she said and Zelphie snorted.

‘Hellspawn!’

From the crowded rows of people, a few onlookers decided to take time out of their day to terrorize the tieflings. Rocks were thrown at their feet. Normally, Zelphie wouldn’t leave the Upper City for this reason, though racism was strong in all of Baldur’s Gate, the Upper City residents usually never shouted or got violent. They were not kind, but never violent. Today was different, for some reason. Lia wiped her head to find two men, calling at them, more putrid words of hate. Lia reached down for the thrown stones but Zelphie held her back.

‘Lia! No, no no, come on, leave it,’ she begged, pulling in Lia. Lia resisted, always in the mood for a fight, but after stress from work, she was like a time bomb.

‘I’ll show you Hellspawn!’ She shouted back at them.

‘Lia! Stop! Don’t fight back,’ Zelphie begged. Normally, Zelphie would live to fight back, but it was common knowledge that if either one of them got into a public fight, they would be arrested. Tieflings just weren’t welcome anywhere. ‘Think of your brother,’ she said and Lia put her hand down, dropping the rock. ‘Thank you, come on, come on, let’s find something to drink,’ she said and pulled Lia from the crowd. Lia grumbled and Zelphie held her close as they walked. ‘I know, trust me, I know,’ she said.

‘Fucking two tieflings saving the goddamned world wasn’t enough for those people?’ Lia went on, she sounded like she was going to cry. Zelphie laughed.

‘Unfortunately, one of those tieflings took her tiefling family and gave them the best real estate in the city. That on its own is a crime. They only mourn Karlach because she died. A dead tiefling is a behaved tiefling,’ Zelphie went on and Lia sighed. ‘For your brother’s sake, we really have to behave. His ownership of the tower can very well be easily contended, don’t give them any excuse, Lia,’ she said and walked Lia into a beautiful tavern, the Vicor, to try and steal her nerves. Zelphie wasn’t doing too well either, she was very easily rattled lately, so this little hide was for both her and Lia.

‘I’m doing it for your sake,’ Lia said as they sat down. ‘I don’t give a rat’s ass about the tower,’ she grumbled and Zelphie shook her head.

‘Liar,’ she said and Lia huffed. ‘I mean it, the tower means everything to all of us. It’s safety. It’s growth, literally. You’d be very upset if you couldn’t live there anymore, I know that,’ she said as a barmaid walked over. Zelphie ordered water and lemon and Lia ordered an ale.

‘I’d rather no one throw rocks at us in the street,’ she hissed and Zelphie nodded.

‘I like to think once my belly gets a little bigger they might stop…but I doubt it,’ Zelphie said and reached over for Lia’s hand. ‘Might get worse…I never used to get that around here though,’ she muttered and Lia nodded.

‘Maybe there really is no place for us,’ Lia grumbled.

The two settled over a drink. Lia went back to complaining about her work, and then the topic lightened to talk about the baby. Lia was very excited. She was convinced all of her normal anger would manifest into love for the new little one. Lia asked twice if it was already kicking, which sent Zelphie into a fit of giggles each time. Of course not, two months would not a kicking baby make. Zelphie paid and left extra, to Lia’s annoyance, but Zelphie would always do it. Maybe one day it would soften the hearts of Baldur’s Gate to tieflings. At least the privileged ones. They continued their walk, and were heading home when Zelphie noticed a little something odd. A newspaper hawker was shouting out a headline, something about a new guest from Neverwinter. Zelphie walked over to the young boy, who immediately stopped his little performance.

‘Oh, ah…you want a paper, miss?’ He asked and Zelphie smiled.

‘Absolutely, I can’t believe I didn’t know about some dignitary visit,’ she said and handed the little one a gold piece.

‘Oh, well, I uhm…you aren’t one of those tiefling wizards, are you?’ The boy asked and Zelphie frowned. ‘From the tower?’ He asked and Zelphie nodded.

‘Yes I am,’ Zelphie said and the boy frowned.

‘You shouldn’t buy this paper, miss,’ he said softly. ‘They didn’t write anything good about you in it,’ he said and Lia laughed.

‘Oh! Finally, a paper that doesn’t mention Zelphie’s heroism, Baldur’s Gate is healing,’ she said and Zelphie looked at Lia.

‘I don’t think that’s what he meant,’ she said and looked back down, holding her hand out. ‘I’ll take my paper, please,’ she said and the boy gave her the paper.

‘Just don’t be angry with me, they just pay me to sell it,’ he said and Zelphie nodded and she and Lia walked a little. Zelphie began to read through the paper, skimming until the third page.

‘Oh for fucks sake,’ she muttered and pulled onto Lia’s hand so they could hustle back to the tower. ‘This is why those brutes felt so bold earlier,’ Zelphie muttered, handing Lia the paper. The two entered the tower quickly, brushing past the entrance and there he was. The paper had an article from a guest writer, a writer who wanted Rolan and his family removed from Ramazith’s Tower. The writer had a few opinions on Rolan, one being he was a brutal homicidal maniac who killed Lorroakan in cold blood, for no other reason than his infernal blood. Tieflings were never lucky, tieflings did not rise to the top, clearly, this was devil work.

Rolan didn’t look up at his sister or wife when they entered. He had read the paper, Zelphie could tell. He was staring at the floor, his hands behind his back. Zelphie walked over to him and reached out for him.

‘Ro,’ she whispered and he slowly looked her in the eye. ‘Ro, it doesn’t matter,’ she told him and he shook his head, looking back down at the ground.

‘When will we ever be safe?’ He asked her softly. ‘I’ve put a target on our backs,’ he continued and Zelphie shook her head.

‘It’s one person out of thousands, please, Rolan, don’t think like that. We are incredibly safe, because of you,’ she told him, placing a hand on his cheek. ‘No one can come here, no one, me and Lia and Cal are safe because of you. And we have the power of the Council on our side, Rolan. They can’t take this from us,’ she continued, but knew there would be nothing that could put him at ease. The truth was, Rolan, along with others including Zelphie, had murdered the rightful owner of the tower. Rolan did not have any right to claim this historical building, other than he defeated its master.

‘That won’t stop a revolution in the streets,’ Rolan said and Zelphie frowned.

‘It will, I will write to Duke Ravengard, he will fix this,’ she told him and that seemed to irritate him.

‘He can’t just keep being our hero, Zelphie,’ he snapped. ‘I broke it, I must fix it,’ he argued and she scowled.

‘No Rolan! You can’t keep thinking that this is Elturel or Avernus, we live in a community now. A thriving community,’ she argued back. ‘Sometimes you are entitled to being helped,’ she told him and he sighed.

‘Zelphie is right, Rolan. You can help this family by asking for help. This isn’t going to be solved with the four of us alone. When Zelphie and I were on our walk, these two men-‘ Zelphie whipped around and hushed Lia. Rolan looked up at Lia and his brows knitted together.

‘What?’ He asked and Zelphie sighed.

‘Gods dammit, Lia,’ she scowled, but Lia continued.

‘They were shouting at us and were throwing rocks, I’m sure this article had something to do with it,’ Lia said and Zelphie glared at her. She didn’t enjoy keeping things from Rolan, but he was already in a state, she would eventually tell him. Eventually.

‘Who was this?’ He asked quickly and Lia shrugged.

‘Just two men, trust me, I tried to fight back, but Zelphie refused. Good thing too, as it might have proven this writer’s point,’ she sighed and Rolan looked down at Zelphie.

‘Are you hurt?’ He asked and she shook her head.

‘No, they had bad aim,’ she said and Lia laughed. ‘It’s not the worst thing someone has hurled at me,’ she reassured Rolan, who was not very reassured. He sighed, but he nodded and looked back down at the floor. Zelphie looked at the spot he was staring at. She knew that spot very well. It was the last place his old master had been, where his corpse had lain. Her hand left his cheek and she took his hand. She didn’t know what to say to him as he reached up and rubbed his temple.

‘I need…to think,’ he said and looked at Zelphie, who frowned but nodded.

‘Call for me if you need me,’ she told him, assuming he would want to be alone. He looked at her in silence for a moment and nodded. ‘I love you,’ she told him and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He grasped the side of her head tightly as he did so, and it broke her heart when he walked away.

‘He’ll be fine,’ Lia told Zelphie, who just nodded and shook her head.

‘I know, I know, I just hate to see him so upset that he won’t even argue,’ she said and Lia smiled.

‘Sometimes I forget how well you fit into our family,’ she said and Zelphie smiled at her.

Zelphie continued to tend to her little garden after a ‘light’ snack, a whole six ounce slab of beef. Lajy brought her a dead mouse. At least one of them was productive that day. While Zelphie had her fingers in the soil, she felt a little buzzing on her finger. She lifted her hands and stared at her right hand. Her wedding ring was buzzing, humming. She looked at it curiously. Then she heard something. She held her hand close to her pointed ear and listened. The ring, while humming and buzzing, was crying. Crying? How could it be crying? Why was it crying? Why did it sound like Rolan? Zelphie looked at her ring again, just as she did at least once a day, but really inspected it. She waved her left hand over it, trying to see if she could feel whatever magic might be causing this. There was magic, but nothing that Zelphie could recognize. She walked out of her room and the crying got louder. She opened her bedroom door, it was empty. She walked upstairs and heard the crying get louder. It was certainly Rolan. She walked to his study, and the ring got louder. She knocked gently and then opened the door.

‘Rolan?’ She called and walked in. She looked at his desk and saw Rolan hunched over it, sobbing. A half drunk glass of wine beside him. She walked over to him quickly. ‘Oh Rolan, my love,’ she called and wrapped her arms around him. He heaved a loud sob. ‘Oh my darling,’ she muttered and knelt next to him. He had his head buried in his arms. He placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Hey, hey look at me,’ she told him softly.

‘I-I c-can’t do a damn thing,’ he sobbed and lifted his head. Zelphie hugged him tight and kissed the side of his face. ‘I can’t save us,’ he sobbed into her neck, holding her a little too tightly.

‘Shhh….we are okay, we are okay. You know where I was just a moment ago?’ She asked as he just cried into her shoulder. She felt awful. She had seen him cry to himself twice before, but this was something different. He was devastated and stressed beyond measure. ‘I was tending the baby’s garden, out of the balcony. I couldn’t have been more safe, I was so happy, tending that garden, thinking about all we have, my family. You’ve already made me safe, Rolan. If you didn’t bring me here, if you didn’t love me so much, I’d be selling myself on the streets of the Lower City,’ she told him and he sobbed harder. That was the truth, but she probably should have kept it to herself. ‘My life is so, so much better and safer than it ever was, even before my kidnapping. Because of you and Cal and Lia. So when I see you so upset over my safety, it boggles my mind,’ she told him. She rubbed his back, her heart was truly breaking for him. ‘Oh Rolan, I’m sorry,’ she whispered. She wanted to make him feel happy once more, but whether this alone was truly killing him, or was the last straw in a list of stressors, she knew a few words weren’t going to make him feel better.

She stayed right there, kneeling in front of him, letting him just cry. It was awful, but he needed it, and she wouldn’t stop him. This was her job, to support and cherish him. She was very happy to do everything she could for him, so she would be his handkerchief and diary whenever he needed her. She just rubbed his back and kissed his forehead.

‘Come on, let me get you more comfortable, Rolan,’ she pleaded. This wasn’t comfortable for her, she couldn’t imagine how comfortable he was, hunched over. She got him to his feet and walked him to their bedroom. Their bedroom, amongst all of the chaos these last days have brought, stayed mainly the same with one small additional, a cradle. Well, some of a cradle. Rolan had been working on assembling one with a lot of help from Cal. Rolan wasn’t exactly good with laborious activity, but he was incredibly picky and Cal had to deal with Rolan’s vision while he did the actual labor. It was a little on the massive side, nothing that Zelphie would have chosen personally, but she never gave any negative input. She didn’t mind at all, as long as baby was safe. She loved that he was working so diligently on the cradle, she loved watching him fuss over it.

‘I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I can’t shake this, all of this,’ he said miserably, walking to his side table for a handkerchief and blew his nose loudly into it.

‘Rolan, please don’t apologize, after everything we all went through in this past year, I don’t blame you. When was the last time you cried?’ She asked him. ‘Really cried because of stress?’

‘When Cal and Lia were captured, and then again when I almost died in that godforsaken Shadow curse. Only to be saved by you,’ he told her. Zelphie walked over to him and helped him with his robe. She wanted him in bed, without a care in the outside world. He deserved a good cry, a glass of water and a cuddle.

‘Everyone deserves saving, Rolan, especially you,’ she told him softly.

‘But how am I to ever pay you back for what you have done? How many times did you save my ragged tail since we met?’ He asked, sounding so desperate, as if he wanted her to berate him.

‘As many times as you absolutely needed it. And it wasn’t just me, my love. When Cal and Lia were taken I had…six, SIX other people also helping! And I would have dragged you down into those dungeons with me if you were cursed with a tadpole, I promise,’ she told him and reached up to hold his face. ‘You’re damned powerful, especially when you are angry. But we couldn’t bring Halsin or Jaheira there for a reason.’

‘And Lorroakan…’ his voice cracked and Zelphie shouted a laugh.

‘Oh that mother fucker? I hit him maybe once before you and the angel got to him, I don’t want credit for that,’ she told him and laughed and there it was. He was still crying, face wet with dark red blotches, but he smiled a little. She leaned up and gave him a little kiss, tasting the salt of his tears on his lips. That would do for now.

‘You are my angel,’ he said softly and hugged her. She hugged him back quickly and she kissed his cheek.

‘And you are mine,’ she told him softly, her tail cooling around his ankle. ‘I don’t know what I would be without you, Rolan,’ she told him softly and his grip got a little tighter.

‘Do you really mean that?’ He whispered and she nodded.

‘Yes, yes with all my heart,’ she told him and the couple stood in a hug for a moment. Rolan had calmed down considerably, at least with his sobbing. He had little hiccups, she would fetch him some water. ‘Rolan?’ She asked softly and he hummed. ‘Are our wedding rings sending stones?’ She asked and his grip on her loosened. He pulled away enough to look at her.

‘Yes, yes they are…I…’ he began and she looked up at him. ‘They won’t work to track your general whereabouts, but…if you rub it, I will know where you are,’ he told her. She had only rubbed her ring when she was terribly upset and needed him. And each time he appeared to comfort her. ‘Stupidly, I got lucky today, you’re as smart as a whip, figuring that out yourself,’ he told her and she tilted her head.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ She asked him and he bit his lip and shrugged. ‘Rolan,’ she urged him and he shook his head.

‘I don’t know…when we exchanged them a lot was going on, I forgot and then when I wanted to tell you you weren’t around and…I don’t know. I did not mean to keep it from you,’ he said and sighed. ‘And…after you used it the first time, I sort of assumed you knew what it was, or I was happy to think that you might have thought-‘

‘That you could show up when I needed you?’ She asked and he winced.

‘Yes,’ he said and looked away. Zelphie frowned and looked at him. She didn’t know how she felt about that. A flash of her Dream Figure showed up in her mind, The Emperor. ‘It wasn’t the intention, I promise…I’m sorry,’ he said and looked back down at her. ‘If you want the stone removed, just tell me, I’ll understand,’ he said and she shook her head.

‘No, no, I genuinely don’t mind it, it is incredibly handy. I don’t mind you knowing where I am…it just,’ she said and shrugged. ‘Is there anything else you wish to tell me, Rolan?’ She asked him and he sighed through his nose.

‘I don’t think so,’ he told her softly and she nodded.

‘Can you teach me how to use it?’ She asked and he smiled and nodded.

‘Of course,’ he told her and leaned down to kiss her. She kissed him back. He held her close again and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with his hair. It was getting pretty long. She would never ever tell him that she preferred it this long, she would just compliment it. If he ever wanted to cut it, she wouldn’t fight, but she did secretly love it long and down. Her fingers played with the little knot keeping it half up and she felt him laughing against her lips. ‘Like a cat with a toy,’ he told her and nuzzled her face.

‘Sorry, I like playing with it,’ she told him and he smiled.

‘I have no complaints,’ he reassured her and she grinned.

‘Let’s get you into bed,’ she told him and as unusual as that would be for Rolan, he didn’t put up a fight. He had drunk three glasses of wine and cried for about an hour. He was ready for a lie down, for certain. He climbed in and she poured him a glass of water and handed it to him.

‘Thank you,’ he said and she smiled at him.

‘Do you need anything else? Lajy cuddles?’ She asked him and he raised his eyebrow at her as he drank his water. He finished his drink and shook his head.

‘Lajy would be fine, but I better be getting you in this bed,’ he said and her tail thumped happily. ‘Unless your little herb garden is more important.’

‘Little herb garden?’ She asked and placed her hands on her hips. ‘Don’t you patronize me,’ she said and he chuckled as she climbed in next to him. ‘Are you feeling a little better? I know I can’t fix it, and I hate that I can’t,’ she told him, getting under the covers. Rolan enveloped her into his arms quickly. He brought her to lay on his chest as he sat back on pillows. He kissed her forehead.

‘I do, thank you. And now, all I want is to hold what is precious to me. I don’t know what will happen in the future, and that is killing me. But for this moment, my pregnant wife is here, and she is safe, and that’s all that I want,’ he told her and placed his face in her hair, his jaw fitting very well in between her horns. She nuzzled into his neck, just relaxing. He was so warm, like a pile of burning charcoal. She loved it.

‘Lia asked me if I know if the baby is a boy or girl again today,’ she said and he laughed loudly.

‘I’ll make her do more homework tomorrow,’ he told her and she laughed, knowing that Rolan can assign Lia to read a million books about the biology of a tiefling pregnancy and she wouldn’t read a single sentence. She was just ready to hold the little bundle.

‘I might just lie to her next time she asks,’ Zelphie said and Rolan laughed again.

‘Don’t you dare, you’ll just create another headache if you are wrong,’ he told her and she smirked.

‘A headache for you, maybe,’ she said and she felt Rolan’s hand on her tail, and he pulled it playfully, making her laugh. ‘I want to know too, I’m so impatient, I cannot wait for our little one to be here,’ she told him and he gave her a little squeeze.

‘I would say I’m the same, but I’m not ready yet. There is still a lot to do,’ he said and sighed. ‘Still so much that I don’t know,’ he said and she laughed.

‘I don’t know if you’ll know everything before they come, darling. Babies are very fickle creatures,’ she said and he huffed.

‘Infuriating,’ he muttered. She lifted her head slowly and smiled at him.

‘Knowing you, I can assure you, any spawn of yours will be incredibly infuriating,’ she said and he scowled.

‘Oh, oh my darling, kettle, pot,’ he said bluntly. Zelphie laughed at his grumpy face. ‘I mean it, you are the most infuriating person I know,’ he said and she continued to laugh, wrinkling her nose. This was fun Rolan, sassy Rolan. He was feeling better. ‘I cannot wait for the headaches your child will give me,’ he said and she howled. ‘Getting into places and business they don’t belong, making a mess of every room in the tower,’ he said and she continued to cackle and he let up and laughed with her. He nuzzled her and sighed out. ‘And I will be so happy.’

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan bg3 #rolan #rolan x tav #bg3 fanfiction #mine

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footprintsinthesxnd · 2 years

Text

You Are Enough

Parings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Kazansky reader. Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, failed relationship, eating disorders, morning sickness, family problems Summary: part 2 of ‘Never Enough’. Reader shows Bradley that he is enough for her. Thank you @callsignmaverick5 for your request.

It had been 5 weeks since you’d last seen Bradley and you felt awful. Each day you struggled to crawl out of bed and get yourself to work. Each day he avoided you and your heart broke even further. Pete had noticed this and tried to talk to you about it but you just closed him out. What could Pete possibly say that you hadn’t already tried to do? You struggled to eat and when you did you couldn’t keep anything down. Your fellow pilot and best friend, Natasha, had become very worried about you, she’d never seen you so bad so she pulled you aside one lunchtime to talk to you.

“Please talk to me? What can I do to help?” Nat looked at you worriedly from her seat on the locker room bench. You sighed, turning to face her.

“There’s nothing you can do, Nat. I ruined everything and Bradley will never forgive me.” Tears began to slip down your face and you gulped, trying to contain a sob that was threatening to explode from your throat.

“Oh, love,” Nat pulled you into a hug and you sobbed into her flight suit. This had become a regular occurrence for your lunch breaks, you crying and Nat holding you comfortingly. “You need to talk to him. I’ve seen how he looks at you, that boy is so in love he…”

Suddenly the wave of nausea that you’d been trying to suppress all morning hit you, jumping up from your seat you dashed to the bathroom and emptied the contents of your stomach into the ceramic toilet. You gagged and choked as you continued vomiting, eyes streaming and your body shaking with the ordeal. You felt a soft hand rubbing your back and Natasha's voice filled the small cubicle with comforting words. You continued to dry heave for what felt like an eternity, before you finally slumped back against the wall, sighing deeply. Natasha crouched beside you, giving you a look that meant ‘you are going to do what I say and don’t argue.’

“Come on, I’m taking you to the infirmary.”

“No, Nat I’m fine. I’m ok.”

Nat sighed, “you might say you're fine but I know you're not. I know you’ve just broken up with your boyfriend and you're hurting but this isn’t normal. I’ve seen you avoiding food, and running off to be sick when you think no one will notice. Please talk to me.” Nat looked around to check no one else was in the room before sitting a little closer to you. “Do you think that maybe you might have an eating disorder? It’s ok if you do darling, we can get you help, and everything will be ok. Just please talk to me.” You watched as Nat fumbled over her words, trying to be diplomatic was not one of her strong points. You laughed at Nat’s expression and she glared at you. “I’m being serious…”

“Nat, I don’t have an eating disorder, quite the opposite.”

Natasha looked confused but stayed quiet, waiting for you to continue. You dug your hand into your flight suit pocket and pulled out a small white stick, handing it to your friend. Nat looked confused but took the stick from you, staring down at it. The realization spread across her face and she looked at you completely speechless. “Your… I… is this… are you?” She rambled, looking between you and the stick.

“I’m pregnant, Nat.” You let your words sink in, watching her expression change before she launched into you, giving you a bone-crushing hug.

“Oh my god, congratulations, Love. I’m so happy for you.” She pulled away slowly, suddenly looking worried. “Hang on, is it Bradley’s?” You nodded slowly, tears welling in your eyes, and she once again pulled you into a hug. This should have been a moment of joy and admittedly you were ecstatically happy, but this really couldn’t have come at a worse time. You were so excited to be a mother but could you really do this on your own?

“Right,” Nat said, standing up swiftly and pulling you up with her. “You're grounded for the rest of the day. I’ll let Mav know you aren’t feeling well, I’m sure he’ll understand. I want you to go home and get yourself cleaned up and then go over to Bradley’s and talk to him.” She guided you out into the hallway. “please make sure you eat something before you go.”

You nodded, thanking Natasha before heading out to your car, your stomach churning at the thought of talking to Bradley.

Bradley’s POV

“Hey, Bagman. What do you want?” Bradley sighed, seeing his wingman standing on his doorstep.

“I wanted to check on you. I know it’s been hard since…”

“Don’t say her name,” Bradley snapped, raising his voice enough that it would cause suspicion amongst his neighbours. Jake shut his mouth but continued to look at his friend seriously.

“Bradley, you need to talk about this. I know I’m not your favourite person or anything but you are my wingman and I care about you.” Jake let out a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. He'd been practicing his speech all morning but when it came to it he didn’t know what to say. “Bradley,” he began but Bradley cut him off.

“Jake, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything,” Bradley broke down, rubbing his eyes, trying to stop the tears from coming but it was no use. He’d finally reached his breaking point. Jake moved swiftly towards him, pulling him into a strong hug. “It’s ok, Brad, it’s ok.” He rubbed his back as his wingman cried. “Here come on.” Jake led Bradley into the house, shutting the front door softly behind him. Bradley slumped down on the hard wooden floor and Jake sat down beside him. He’d always hated Jake Seresin, even though he was his wingman. He was cocky and arrogant and didn’t care about anyone else, yet here he was, wrapped in Jake’s arms at his weakest moment. Bradley’s sobs subsided slightly, hiccupping lightly and rubbing his nose in his sleeve. “Brad, I know you probably don’t want to hear this but I think you need to talk to her, tell her how you truly feel. Who cares what her dad thinks? He’s only the Admiral of the Pacific Fleet.” Bradley snorted and looked up at Jake who smiled back at him. “Tell her you want her back, Bradley, before you lose her forever.”

Bradley nodded slowly and Jake grabbed his hand, pulling him back up. “Thanks, Jake,” he mumbled, just loud enough for Jake to hear.

“Oh I’m sorry, what was that?” Jake asked, cupping his hand to his ear and laughing.

“I said thanks, now get lost Bagman,” Bradley chuckled, opening the door to let his wingman out.

Jake paused, stopping on the last step.

“I think you’ll be talking to her sooner than you think,” Jake pointed towards a car parked outside, you were sitting inside with your head against the steering wheel.

“Good luck, Rooster,” Jake sauntered off down the street without looking back and Bradley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Here goes nothing.

Your POV

You’d been sitting outside Bradley’s house for half an hour now and you still hadn’t undone your seatbelt, too nervous to move. You took a deep breath trying to control your nerves. You’d already given yourself a pep talk on the way over, trying to plan how you would tell him. “Oh, hi Bradley, remember me? Oh by the way I’m pregnant. Surprise!” You placed your forehead against the steering wheel sighing. Maybe you should just turn around and go home. You could do this by yourself, you had your family to help. Despite what your father had said about Bradley, he soon regretted it seeing how much it hurt his daughter. He’d never intended to break you up and he’d told you that if you got back together he’d support you wholeheartedly, you knew he’d support you if you chose to do this on your own. A loud tap at the window made you jump, smacking your hand into the car horn in alarm. Bradley stood on the curb, smirking at you. He was dressed in just a pair of shorts and his toned stomach rippled as he gave a light laugh. “Hi,” he mouthed through the window and you quickly threw open the door in shock.

“Hi,” you replied, out of breath from your recent scare. You stared at each other for a moment before Bradley said, “did you want to talk to me or is it just a coincidence that you're parked outside my house.” You could tell that he was joking but in your current state, you couldn’t find the situation funny.

“Actually I do need to talk to you. It’s… important.” You looked down at your hands, picking at the edge of your thumbnail.

“Well, that’s good because I need to talk to you as well.” Bradley held out his hand to help you out of the car and you sheepishly followed him inside. You were a nervous wreck, hands shaking and sweat trickling down your back as you took a seat on the familiar sofa, Bradley went out to the kitchen to make you a drink. He came back with a steaming mug of coffee that you took gratefully before suddenly realizing the caffeine you were about to consume. You placed the mug down on the table and turned to face him.

“Bradley, I…” but he stopped you, placing his hands on top of yours.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, and looking into his eyes you could see all the pain and hurt he had endured over the past 5 weeks. His knee jumped up and down nervously and he was barely keeping his cool as he spoke. “I never wanted this to happen, I love you so damn much and I just walked away from you. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done and I regret it every day.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears and you could feel your own eyes beginning to sting.

“I never wanted to hurt you, baby and I want… No, I need you back. I love you so much and I’m so sorry I left you. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for weeks but I was too much of a coward. Jake came over today to try and get me to talk to you and then you were outside and…”

“Jake came over?” You interrupted, looking at Bradley surprised.

“Yeah, apparently I can count on my wingman,” Bradley stopped talking suddenly, looking you in the eye. “Your dad probably hates me even more now.” Bradley sighed, withdrawing his hands from yours and rubbing his eyes frantically.

You shuffled across the sofa towards him, grabbing his hands and placing a delicate kiss on his knuckles.

“He doesn’t hate you,” you mumbled into his skin, enjoying the familiar warmth. “Far from it actually. He felt so guilty after everything, he gave us his blessing.” Bradley's head shot up, looking at you in disbelief as he processed what you’d told him.

“You mean he’s happy for us to be together? Truly?”

You laughed, nodding your head excitedly as the tears slipped down your cheek.

“Oh, Baby,” Bradley pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in the warmth and love that you had missed so much. You sobbed into his shoulder, happy tears but it still felt good to let out all the emotions you’d kept bottled up. Bradley cried too, smiling and placing gentle kisses on your forehead. His embrace brought more comfort than he ever could know. Caught up in the moment, you had completely forgotten the little life growing inside you, but you couldn’t keep it to yourself forever. You pulled away quickly leaving a shocked Bradley looking back at you.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, concern evident in his eyes as he reached out for your hands but you shrugged away.

“I umm… I have something to tell you and if… if I don’t tell you now I may never tell you.” You sighed as you finished your sentence, glad that you’d managed to get this far before chickening out.

“Ok,” Bradley sat up a little straighter, preparing for whatever bomb you were about to drop.

“Well, I’m… I’m… Bradley, I'm pregnant.” And there it was. The truth that you’d kept bottled up for weeks.

Bradley's face went from shocked, to confused, to surprised and then a large smile spread across his face. “Are you… are you serious?”

You nodded your head nervously, tears trickling down your cheeks, finally unable to contain your emotions. Bradley pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around you and peppering kisses along your neck, before pulling away to look at you.

“I’m going to be a dad.” He exclaimed in disbelief.

“Yeah, you are.” You squeezed his hands reassuringly and he moved them to cup your face. “Thank you, Baby, thank you for everything.” He kissed you gently this time, softer than before but still with so much love. “I’m never going to leave you again, neither of you.” He whispered into your ear, as he held you. And this time you knew he meant it.

Tag list: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @blue-aconite @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @alexxavicry @a-reader-and-a-writer @topguncortez @maggiescarborough @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover

#top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #top gun rooster #rooster x reader #topgun #milesteller #bradley bradshaw imagine #pete maverick mitchell #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace

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ask-egonspengler · 7 days

Note

fine dr. spengler. in the nicest tone I can offer what was the purpose of your ‘’classefied ‘ ‘ experiments with the mood slime?

Thank you for asking so politely.

To your question — Ray and I ran various experiments on the substance Venkman nicknamed “mood slime”, ranging from trying to provoke a reaction using various stimuli to testing if its viscosity — among other factors — changed the way it behaved.

We even ingested small amounts of positively charged plasm to see how it’d affect us as a food additive. The answer to that one was not pretty. When I served as our test subject, I apparently ranted about the things I enjoy for twenty minutes, declared my adoration for all my loved ones, sang a little bit, and then suddenly turned pale and told Ray my mouth felt dry. Then I vomited into a nearby trash can. I woke up the next morning with the worst dry mouth, headache, and constipation.

But that’s not what you really want to hear about, is it? That particular experiment isn’t necessarily classified. It’s just something Ray and I chose not to share with Venkman, who I am assuming is the one spreading the word about the incident.

However, in the interest of science, I’ll share here:

While it was my turn to affirm the slime, Ray commented that some of the positive comments I was making seemed “flirtatious”. I asked if he thought flirtation would produce a different result. He shrugged, so I added it to the list of emotional responses to test.

Raymond left shortly after that to relieve his new hire at the bookstore and close up for the evening. He said he’d be back soon, so I saw no reason not to continue working. I assumed that now was a decent time to test the effects of flirtation, since I had apparently already begun doing so unwittingly. I continued this verbal approach for a while. Nothing seemed to be happening. I kept at it, albeit absentmindedly. Then I decided I must not be sincere enough. So I lowered the lights a little and played amorous music.

That didn’t do much either.

I borrowed a bit of Venkman’s strongest cologne and some red wine, put each on a cotton ball and put them near the ectoplasm, thinking that maybe it could perceive the scent.

I left this setup there for quite a while and was about to give up. As a last effort, I tried flirting again. I’m not very good at it, but my guess is that the other stimuli worked to “prime” the sample for my verbal advances.

It bubbled and gurgled a bit. I leaned in curiously and the next thing I knew, the slime was hurtling toward me. The damn sample grabbed my face and pulled my head into the container.

Amid my terror, I felt something like a concupiscent shockwave through my body. Skin contact with the sample had what I can only describe as a profound aphrodisiacal effect on me. Copulatory activities are almost never at the forefront of my mind, so I’ve never felt that markedly…excited, for lack of a better word.

Luckily for me, Ray got back just in time. He quickly donned his gloves and pulled my head out of the container.

Suddenly free of the plasm, I coughed and spat. It was in my eyes, my ears, my mouth, my nose, dripping down my neck and covering the shoulders of my flight suit. With the sheer amount of panic and…arousal I felt, I did the only thing I could think of to do.

I rushed to the showers and turned the cold water on full-blast. For a moment, I just stood there, flight suit and all.

When I felt like I had thoroughly washed away the slime, I turned the water off and stumbled out of the shower. I was absolutely drenched and shivering. I felt like I’d been hit by a bus.

Ray was waiting quizzically just outside the shower door.

After I dried off and changed into warm, comfortable clothing, Ray asked if I wanted his last cigarette. I declined, but requested a strong cup of coffee.

That did me some good. I began to feel better after that and explained to Ray what had happened.

After that, we both agreed that experimentation with this particular substance should only be performed in groups of two or more for safety reasons.

…Sometimes that particular sample still gurgles at me. We haven’t added it back to the larger collection tank of slime and Ray still jokingly refers to it as my “girlfriend”.

#egon spengler #ghostbusters #ask egon #always the quiet ones

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juceynightmare · 1 year

Text

pink carnations part 2 - cody rhodes x reader

my masterlist

pink carnations masterlist

pairing(s): cody rhodes x reader, cody rhodes x brandi rhodes, austin theory x reader

warning(s): hanahaki, swearing, smut implied (comment if i should write a separate smut post for this part), mentions of death, vomiting

genre(s): fluff, heavy angst

<< previous part || next part >>

if this is what heaven was, then y/n wished to never be alive again. she was stood at the entrance to the designated women's locker room backstage at ohio valley wrestling, facing a much younger, more youthful cody rhodes with a bouquet of pink carnations in his hand and a nervous smile on his face.

“cody? who are these for?” she heard herself asking. the experience was odd for her. y/n already knew who the flowers for as she’s already experienced this, however, it felt as if she was reliving the memory all over again: word by word, detail by detail.

“i, well, they’re for you actually. i know we’re already planning to go get some tacos tonight but how about we call it a date this time?” cody asked, the nerves in his voice as obvious as the blush that fell across the both of their cheeks.

y/n reached for the bouquet, holding it in one arm as she wrapped her other arm around cody’s neck. “i thought you’d never ask, codes.” she whispered, feeling the warmth on her cheeks become increasingly hotter.

he laughed, and let out what she could only assume to be a sigh of relief as he melted into her embrace. “sorry it took me so long. i will admit, though, it did take some jealousy for me to finally grow a pair to ask you out on a proper date. the assholes in the locker room just wouldn’t shut up about you after finding out that we weren’t even talking in that way… yet.” cody apologized to her, placing a kiss on the side of her head as he has always done.

y/n could feel the warmth of his arms as they wrapped around her. she could smell the hint of cologne under the smell of his sweat as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, unable to contain the wide smile that had graced her lips. she felt him pull away from her embrace, and for a moment disappointment settled in her stomach. however, the disappointment disappeared just as fast as it formed, as she felt his hand tilt her chin up.

she closed her eyes as he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on her lips as if to test how far he could go while still being respectful. y/n could still taste him on her lips, feel the way his hands had fallen to rest on her hips and pull her close to his body as she deepened the kiss.

the memory seemed to have fast-forwarded for the mentally-matured y/n that was reliving the entire situation. somehow between y/n deepening the kiss with cody and the backstage area being the setting, when y/n pulled away from the kiss and opened her eyes, she found herself being pushed down and landing on what she remembers to be cody’s bed.

she stared up at cody who was in the process of pulling off his shirt and felt a blush rise to her cheeks. y/n wanted to laugh at the smell of tacos that filled the room, remembering how the two of them hadn’t been able to keep their hands off of the other and settled for taking the tacos home. of course, the tacos would be forgotten until the morning after.

“c’mere beautiful, i’ve waited long enough to have you like this. now, be a good girl and let me take care of you.” y/n heard him mumble as he leaned down on top of her to capture her lips in a kiss.

the immersion in her memory broke all too quickly when she tasted something like water on her lips, and the smell of cody had faded into the smell of austin.

“hey, drink up, y/n.” austin said to her, reaching for her hand and bringing it up to the water bottle so she could hold it instead.

y/n didn’t recognize the area austin had brought her to. they were surrounded by stage equipment and now that she’s conscious, she realized she wasn’t even sitting on a proper chair. austin had hoisted her up to sit atop a random crate of stage equipment and stood in front of her between her legs.

she downed the water bottle without even realizing it, it was only when austin pulled the empty water bottle away from her and placed it beside her legs that she realized she was finished. austin took a step away, realizing the position they were in and how inappropriate it would have looked to any outsiders. especially after he felt cody shooting him a death stare until they were finally out of his sight. austin felt a chill creep down his spine at the recent interaction.

“he was outside when i carried you away. he saw us but i have no idea what he thinks happened in the bathroom between us.” austin told her, pushing himself up and shuffling around slightly so he could sit beside the woman.

“you’re fucking lying to me right now. he saw me like that? did he see the flowers?” she questioned him, seemingly so full of energy in that moment. y/n had turned her head to look at austin, her eyes wide with fear. cody would know the flowers were for him - they were the same flowers he gave to her after all.

“y/n, i’m willing to bet money that cody has probably seen you in less favorable conditions. but no, he didn’t see the flowers. i managed to flush it all down the toilet before i took you out.” austin reassured her, meeting the girl’s gaze and flashing her a small smile to reassure her.

y/n found it odd to be comforted by austin’s words. before this, the two were acquaintances, and now austin had heard y/n’s entire cody rhodes rant all while the girl coughed up flowers on to his chest.

she shifted her body so she was facing more towards austin, and leaned forward until she felt her head hit the man’s chest. although she was certain that she didn’t have the energy to cry anymore, she could feel the tears pool in her eyes.

“you know, i had it too. hanahaki, i mean. not a crush on cody.” austin found himself admitting to y/n, shocking even himself. the woman hadn’t responded besides a small laugh at the mention of cody, and austin took that as the okay to continue. he wrapped his arm back around y/n, rubbing her back as he continued telling her his experience.

“i guess a similar situation to yours. she was my childhood best friend, been friends since diapers and even used to take baths together when we were really young. our moms are best friends, even to this day. i remember having to sit through every guy that she went through, and then, she ended up getting pregnant by her fiance at the time.” austin took a moment to pause, feeling you shift in his arms. he loosened his grip around you, looking down at you as you lifted your head and made eye contact with him.

“and then? clearly you’re fine now. are you and her together?” y/n asked, unable to hide the hint of hope and excitement that had crept into her voice. perhaps it’d go that way with her and cody… maybe.

“it’s been a little over a year since i got the surgery.” austin admitted, not liking the way y/n had deflated after the fact. he took the chance to bring the woman back in his arms, pulling her back into his chest so he could hold her. he knew what he was about to say next could potentially make or break the situation.

“we’re not friends anymore. i can’t even tell you how i used to feel about her because it’s just not there anymore. i knew the risk of the surgery, the way they said that it’d remove all emotions towards the person but… you know, i never thought about the implications. the fact of the matter is, even though we tried to remain friends, i couldn’t even feel an ounce of that happiness or connection that friendship gives with her specifically.” austin sighed, feeling his heart drop in his chest. “it’s weird, if i’m honest. i know at one point i knew what love felt like and i know that it was once directed towards her. but now, i can’t even think of her as a friend because there’s nothing there.”

“but you told her. you told her that you were in love with her?” y/n questioned, to which austin answered with a slight hum. she could feel how heavy her heart had become, how the tightness in her chest had returned. y/n fought back a cough as she asked her next question, “but you can still fall in love, right austin?”

surgery. y/n knew how precious life was and how unlikely it’d be for cody to return her feelings. however, would life be worth it if she forgot the feeling of falling in love and being in love with cody? would life be worth living if she would not even be able to continue a friendship with cody? would she even be able to fall in love again after the fact?

and for austin, he hadn’t ever thought of the answer to that question before. it wasn’t like he was actively searching for love again. sure, he loves his job, he loves his family but he wasn’t in love with anyone. but a little voice in the back of his head would whisper that if he were to pursue someone like that again, he’d imagine that it’d be directed towards the woman that he had pressed against his chest and that he’d have the same thought of “protect her” as he does in that moment.

so, he would settle for an “i don’t know” as an answer.

just as austin was about to answer the woman, he heard the sounds of someone making their way through the other crates of stage equipment. he could only assume that it was cody who was making such a ruckus, after all, who else would be rushing through an area that was practically hidden away if it wasn’t for stage equipment or to find someone.

and eventually, cody finds them, although he’s certain they do not know that he sees them. he takes note of the way austin had you in his arms before pulling away and getting off of the crate and standing in front of you almost protectively. before y/n can even ask what austin was doing, cody made himself known.

“hey, settle down guard dog. it’s just me.” cody said, stepping in between two larger crates that had been used to block off the area to reach the two. his comment didn’t seem to sit nice with austin, who only clicked his tongue in acknowledgement.

y/n perked up at cody’s voice, her eyes widened at the sight of cody. she could only remember seeing the photo of brandi in her mind, and she bit back another cough. she jumped down from the crate and landed on her feet, taking a step towards cody. “cody it’s not what it looks like.” y/n found herself saying, although she didn’t know why she felt the need to defend her and austin being in an area together alone.

cody cocked a brow at her words. now he certainly believes its exactly what it looks like. he was certain everyone already knew that y/n was his girl, well, technically she was no longer his girl but cody would just push that thought aside. and he certainly was not going to let austin theory be the man to think he can even try with getting with y/n. after all, he knew y/n and everything she liked and wanted in a relationship: austin would never meet those standards.

“if its not what it looks like then why was your roided-up german shepherd carrying you out of the men’s restroom and bringing you back here?” cody questioned, beginning to make his way towards y/n and reaching out his arm as if to grab her hand and pull her away.

austin immediately stood in front of y/n, staring down cody. “look, it’s seriously not what it looks like, rhodes. y/n and i are friends. and if anything, i should be asking you what your wife thinks about you kissing another woman on the forehead and always being so touchy with her. especially in such a public are where all of your coworkers can see.” austin practically spat at cody.

y/n’s eyes widened at the altercation that could potentially grow into something more. “austin it’s okay i-“ y/n tried to say before being cut off by cody.

“listen here, theory. i am completely in love with my wife and have been married to her for years now. in fact, we are about to start a family so for your information, my wife clearly doesn’t see y/n as a threat because she trusts me. and you don’t know a damn thing about y/n and i’s friendship. she and i have always been and forever will be only friends. never have i felt an emotion beyond friendship for her. now let me have a talk with my- y/n?” cody’s tone had turned harsh, not liking how austin had seemed to “protect” you from cody. it was as if austin had taken his spot in y/n’s life from right under his nose and in such a short time. however, he had been cut short by the sound of y/n falling to her knees and dry heaving.

it hurt. that’s all y/n could remember thinking of in that moment as she listened to cody. each sentence had felt like the man had personally took a knife and repeatedly stabbed her. her chest tightened, her throat burned, and she struggled to breathe. y/n wasn’t even aware that she had fallen to her knees, and she certainly didn’t feel the two men quickly falling to their knees on either side of her.

y/n could feel as if her lungs were splitting in her chest, as with one cough a pink carnation flower emerged from her mouth. she continued coughing, collapsing in the two men’s arms as a seemingly endless rope of pink carnations continued spewing out of her mouth with every cough she let out.

before she fell unconscious, she could only wish to forget the look of realization, hurt, and unspoken apologies that appeared on cody’s face as austin yelled for an ambulance to be called.

|| next part >>

#cody rhodes x reader #cody rhodes fanfiction #cody rhodes imagine #cody rhodes #austin theory x reader #austin theory fanfiction #austin theory imagine #austin theory #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #wwe

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cafeinthemoon · 2 years

Text

Unexpected Changes - Part II

Chapter 2/2

Wordcount 3,1k

Title Part II

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Pairing Hades X reader

Previous chapter

Symbols ✔ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: none, just comedy and family fluff!

Tagging: ? (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment here or send an ask or a message)

You and Hades stared at each other, then at the man on the chair, waiting for an explanation, which he gave to you after a deep sigh.

– I can’t believe this was your first idea, Hades-san. We just need to look at y/n-san to see that she’s not cursed. Even less sick – and, turning to you, – I’d even say she’s healthier than the previous times I’ve seen her.

While Hades was trying to process the intriguing response from the other god, you sensed a bubbling in your stomach, but that time it had nothing to do with nausea: you were aware that you’ve been quiet for too long, and though you were still afraid, you knew that if you didn’t speak for yourself, this confusion would never end.

You gathered all your courage and opened your mouth.

– But, Beelzebub-sama… – you startled when Beelzebub’s eyes stopped on you, but didn’t give up – These changes I’ve sensed are not product of my imagination. I’m really experiencing alterations in my sleeping and eating schedule, and there’s no apparent reason for them. And, to use Poseidon-sama’s words, it’s like something is stealing my energies, forcing my body to restock them. What kind of thing would cause this if not a curse or sickness?

The Lord of the Flies’ response was to turn to a drawer beside his table, at his leg’s height, and take two small objects out of it: when he turned back to you, you saw he had a medical needle and a tiny strap in hands.

Without the slightest sign of impatience, he stood up and approached you. You had to fight the impulse of stepping back when he stopped before you. Hades was following everything, but made no effort to interrupt – this was his level of trust in that man, then.

– Y/n-san, can you show me one finger? – Beelzebub raised the hand holding the needle – There’s something I want to show to both of you, but I need a blood sample first.

You had no idea of what he intended to show, but if it was going to solve this mystery, you’d accept his methods. You gave him a hesitant hand.

– It’s not going to hurt – he held your index finger and pressed the tip of the needle on it – Just some drops are enough.

Indeed, the procedure was so fast that you didn’t have the time to feel the sting. When the needle came out from your skin, your fingertip was left with a small, red dot on the pierced spot; you rubbed it and confirmed the absence of pain.

Hades and you observed in silence as Beelzebub took the collected material to the table and gathered a small test tube and some strange substances from bottles he kept inside a drawer in desk on the other side of the room. He came back with two or three colored flasks, moistened the strap with your blood, then put it inside the tube and started mixing the substances in it with the help of a thin, disposable stick.

He was so concentrated in this task that he didn’t notice the growing tension provoked by the questions he made while working.

– You didn’t say anything about it, y/n-san, but you’ve probably been experiencing other symptoms besides the ones you just described, right?

– Ah… yes – you stuttered.

– And does these symptoms include hypersensitivity to physical and mental stimulation?

– I… Yes, I think.

– And then, sensations of dizziness, nausea and occasional vomit?

You glanced at your husband, who already had a pair of worried eyes on you, and confirmed this supposition too.

– Let me guess – Beelzebub continued, without raising his eyes from the tube – They use to happen in the mornings?

Again, a positive answer. When Hades inquired you about this, you explained that it’s been happening long after he left the room.

– I would go back to bed and stay there until all the discomfort disappear from my stomach. Sometimes, I’d end up sleeping again, but most of the times I’d able to leave the room and carry on with my day.

– I see – he deliberated – And is this everything? Isn’t there other things causing you discomfort apart from what you said?

– No, I swear.

Your husband made no other questions, but you knew he was disappointed just by looking into his eyes. You tried not to think too much about it, for you would have time to discuss it later, in private. And, to be honest, you were disappointed with yourself too, which only made things worse.

An effervescent sound coming from Belzeebub’s table interrupted your thoughts. When you turned to it, saw him standing up and approaching you again to show you the results of the experiment. Now, the mixture inside the test tube has changed into a glowing, violet shade, with a lilac foam on its surface.

The scientist-god raised the tube at his eyes height, with a discreet smile of triumph. You always thought he had nothing but seriousness in him, but there he was, not hiding his diversion with all of this.

Now, Hades seemed more anxious about it than yourself, his eyes glued on the substance as if it contained your fate – which, in a certain way, it did.

– Well, I already knew it, but having a proof is always better – Beelzebub shook the fluid inside the tube, admiring the variations in its color.

– So… what does this proof mean? – your husband inquired.

– Beelzebub-sama… – you mumbled with your fingers crossed – Please, tell us…

Beelzebub took the tube out of his sight, as to gather your attention to what he was about to announce.

– Y/n-san, there’s really no curse over you. Instead, what you have here might be called a blessing for many couples – his black eyes calmly alternated between you two as he spoke – This purple shade you’re seeing represents a hormonal change you’ve been experiencing for at least three weeks, which is the responsible for all the symptoms. To summarize, within a few months, your family is going to grow.

Both you and Hades held your breath with the news. You turned to your husband and found him staring at you in ecstatic silence, in a way you’ve only seen in the most important occasions of your life together: when he proposed to you, when you arrived at the Underworld with him and when you had your first night. He was the first of you to bring up the possibility of parenting, but you thought you should wait until your bonds were strong enough to succeed in such task; it’s been a few decades since you talked about it, but you knew Hades never forgot the idea.

And now it was a reality. And you were, above all, scared.

– I’m… I’m expecting?! – you put your hands on your belly and turned back to Beelzebub, who has been observing you in silence – We’re going to have a baby?!

– Yes – he replied, unfazed – I’m really surprised that you had no suspicions until this moment, y/n-san. As far as I know, these are the basic symptoms of the human pregnancy.

You shrugged in embarrassment.

– Yes, I know, but… I supposed it would be different now that I’m no longer human… I never really thought about it.

The Lord of the Flies went back to the table and left the test tub upon it.

– You’re a deity with a female, humanoid physical constitution, y/n-san – he commented – No great changes should be expected in your conception process… or so I believe.

Your heart jumped inside your chest with those words.

– What… do you mean, Beelzebub-sama?

The man turned to you with an enigmatic smile that would feel less creepy if you saw it in someone else’s face.

– Well, you know, there are so many curious cases of conception in your pantheon. Aphrodite, Athena, Nyx, you name them. If you have some time, we can discuss the most exotic ones…

– No, thank you! – you raised your hands in a desperate refusal, not wanting to hear the entire invitation – I’m really grateful for your gentleness in receiving us, but I don’t want to take much more of your time, Beelzebub-sama – and, turning to your husband, – I think we should go back home and leave him free to work on his projects, my dear.

Hades had a smile on his lips that didn’t hide how much fun he had watching this interaction between you two, an extra reward after the astonishing news.

– Can you, please, stop scaring my wife, Beelzebub? – and, passing his around your shoulder, – As she stated, we’re grateful for your help, but it’s time to go. We have much work to do.

The Lord of the Flies returned to his chair, possibly to continue the studies in which he was engaged before you arrived.

– It’s a shame that we have to separate so soon, but you do as you prefer – he shrugged, still in that calm, good mood – If you need anything or if any curious symptom appears – he stared directly at you, – I’ll be right here.

You swallowed, but it was embarrassment that took you over instead of fear. Beelzebub was aware of your feelings towards him.

And guess you were lucky that he chose to have fun with this.

***

You’ve been standing before that porch for a while. Your legs would probably ache later, but you weren’t worried: now that you had a solid answer for most of those weird things your body has been doing, none of them scared you as an unsolvable problem anymore. Besides, you were now receiving the necessary assistance, not having to deal with anything all by yourself, and it has been good.

You were distracting your eyes and thoughts observing the Underworld’s landscape, a combination of empty fields and mountains of impossible size if compared to the ones of Midgard. Ahead and above, there were the expanded heights you used to call the sky, with heavy, reddish clouds that rarely brought rain; however, the wet wind that carried them that evening seemed to indicate an exception.

The way things turned out was still hard to assimilate. Just one day ago, you were scared and confused, until Beelzebub showed you the result of the test; now, you were there, in peace, trying to make amends with reality.

After all those years of marriage, you were carrying a child at last. You were going to be a mother for the first time.

– You’re going to get tired if you stay on your feet for too long, little one.

Hades’ voice brought you back to this plane. You turned to the porch’s entry and found him approaching your spot with slow, unworried steps: the ultimate sign that he has finally finished the works of the day and wouldn’t leave his chambers until tomorrow.

He stopped behind you and surrounded your body with his arms, pulling you to a warm embrace as his lips kissed your head.

– I’d get tired if I’d be forced to stay in bed all day – you replied with a smile – Besides, I was about to go back inside. It looks like it’s going to rain.

– Hmmm…

You didn’t went back to your room right after saying that: as long as the said rain wouldn’t reach the castle’s territory, you would take those precious moments in the company of each other, if not talking, enjoying your silence.

– This porch is still your favorite spot here, right? – your husband mumbled in your ear.

– Yes – you sighed – Why are you recalling this now?

– I was just remembering the first time you came here, right on the day you came to Hellheim – you felt his fingers curling the locks of your hair as he spoke – You said the view from here, which reminded you of a twilight, was the closest thing to Midgard you saw since you entered this plane. Then, you started to spent all your free time here.

You chuckled.

– You still remember that.

– Of course I do – and, with a pensive tone, – You know, I just couldn’t understand it at first. I always thought the lights of the castle were enough to simulate a natural day, so when you told me these dark skies made you feel closer to your homeland than them, it sounded absurd. It was when I realized that, because in Midgard you have your own sun, all life is connected to it through a sacred, unreplaceable bond, so that any artificial light would be just a poor excuse for them.

You turned to him, hiding your face on his chest.

– I don’t blame you for this, dear. There was one time when you said that you’ve had ages to get used to Hellheim’s darkness, so it was only natural that you wouldn’t realize it right at the beginning. I understand that.

– I know – Hades tightened the hug around you, as to apologize for this little mistake of long ago – But I cannot forget this. It’s my reminder that I have to stop and listen to you more attentively. If I have done this in this last case, all the uneasiness of the last days would have been avoided.

– Maybe yes, maybe not – you reciprocated the hug as warmly as you could – I don’t think we could ever know. Besides, I have my part on the responsibility in this too. If I didn’t act so hesitant and just spoke when I had to, things could have been solved in an easier way. I should have talked to you when all of this began. But I was so scared…

Right when your voice cracked and you thought you were going to cry, you felt a long, soft kiss on the top of your head as a response.

– Are you still afraid now, little one? – and, after you shook your head negatively, – Hmmm… that’s good to know…

Yes, it was really good. All your reasons to be afraid were left in the past, so now your thoughts could be entirely in the future, in the child you were going to bring to this world – not only a child, but a new deity. About this you had many questions, many worries, of course, but one thing you were sure: if your husband and you kept committed – you in speaking out and Hades in listening – nothing will be impossible.

You looked again at the horizon and noticed the clouds were near.

– We should go back inside now…

You separated from Hades and were going to enter your chambers, when a grip on your wrist stopped you midway.

– Oh, what hap… Hey!

After pulling you close to him again, your husband took you in his arms and started carrying you inside.

– Do you know what I’m thinking? – he started – Time will pass soon... Our baby will be here with us when we least expect.

You laughed.

– That’s true. And, when it happens, I want to present this view to them and make this their favorite spot as well…

– It’s an excellent idea, dear – he kissed your temple and tightened the grip around you – However… don’t you think this porch is too large for them alone?

– Well – you shrugged – It’s too large for me too…

You stopped deliberating once you raised your eyes to his face and saw the smirk on it. It wasn’t difficult to guess what he had in mind.

– Since they’ll not take too long to arrive – he leaned closer to you, whispering – We can start thinking about bringing their siblings to this porch right now.

You looked at the King of the Underworld with a mixture of desperation and diversion.

– Hades, you…! Don’t you ever bring this up again until our baby comes!

Hades laughed as you passed together through the porch’s entry.

– Sorry for hurrying things up, little one! I forgot we have all the time in the world for this!

***

The news about your pregnancy didn’t take long to spread among the Greek pantheon, and then to the other ones, and the messages of good luck, blessings and congratulations wouldn’t stop arriving, keeping Hellheim’s servants occupied for a good amount of time.

Surprising even his elder brother, Poseidon-sama was one of the first to send his regards, alongside a beautiful, golden shell he said he personally collected in his domain, explaining that it’s a traditional gift sent to the children born to the people of the seas. You loved the gift, of course, and wanted to make your gratitude known as soon as you could, so Hades didn’t take long to prepare a message.

By that time, the divine council has ended and the King of the Seas was already back to his castle. He was at the throne room as usual when the said message was delivered to him through the hands of his loyal servant, Protheus.

– Hades-sama and his wife, y/n-sama, sent this package to you, my Lord, as a thanks for the gift you sent in honor of their child – he knelt and raised the message with both hands to his master’s reach.

Poseidon found it strange that a simple reply should come in the form of a rectangular package, wrapped in golden paper. He released Protheus and waited until he left the room to unwrap the strange object.

His servant, now a few steps away on the corridor, would later be glad for being dispensed before the message’s content was figured out by his master, for the response it provoked came in a sway of the Tyrant’s trident, followed by a furious thud of its base on the castle’s floor that certainly caused a seaquake somewhere in the lands above.

It happened that, alongside the polite, warm handwritten message you sent, Hades included his own response in a small paper note that only said “Enjoy your reading” (which he had no need to sign, because Poseidon was more than used to his calligraphy), and under the enigmatic note an old book was found, one that was taken from Beelzebub’s library and about which he barely remembered. The book’s title, almost erased by time, was still visible and was seen by many servants that entered the room to take care of their tasks without understanding why it caused such reaction in their King.

Principles of the Effective Accursement and How to Spot Them – An Ultimate Guide.

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok hades #shuumatsu no valkyrie hades #shuumatsu no valkyrie hades x reader #record of ragnarok hades x reader #snv hades x reader #ror hades x reader #snv poseidon #ror poseidon #snv beelzebub #ror beelzebub

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munsonownsmyass · 1 year

Text

Matt Murdock x tattoo artist reader

Summary: Finally working at the place of your dreams, you get the hardest client of your career.

Notes: When I read The Sweetest Pain (and part two) from @e-dubbc11 it sparked something in me. So I really wanted to make a little piece too. This one takes place in Billy's shop and the stories are intertwined, but can be read separately.

Warning: None. Just some flirting, pining and yearning for hot Matt. What?! So no spice in 3.8K words?! No, sorry. But there will be in part two (if anyone wants a part two, that is 😅)

Words: 3.8K

Standing outside the Anvil Tattoo Shop, you take a deep breath. For longer than you remember, you’ve wanted to be a tattoo artist. For years, you’ve practiced and been working in small, sleezy parlors, anything to get some experience. It had all been leading up to this. Hopefully a place at one of the finest shops you’ve seen.

Whenever you’ve walked past, you’ve been dreaming about working here. The owner, Billy and his employees are immaculate in their work, truly amazing and you want to be part of their team. With another deep breath, you pull yourself together and walk through the doors.

It’s still early, so there’s only three guys there. Billy you recognize instantly, but the other two you haven’t seen before. They all raise their gaze as you walk up to the counter.

“What can I do for you?” Billy asks, looking up from his sketch.

“I was hoping to get a job. I… I love your shop and admire your work so much and I want to be just as great as you some day, so-“ You stop, mentally scolding yourself over how awkward you are. Word vomit as if you’re some crazy fan. Hugging your folder full of your drawings and tattoos, you look to the men before you. “Sorry. I just-”

“Let me see.” Billy gestures to the folder and you hand it to him, hoping it’s good enough to land you a spot in his shop. “Why do you want to be a tattoo artist?”

“Because I’ve been through so much shit in my life and I’ve only ever felt happy when I draw… Or get a tattoo.” You chuckle softly, looking at Billy as he goes through your stuff. “Getting a tattoo is pain, but it’s a pain you control. It’s therapeutic. So whether I’m the one wielding the needle or getting a new piece on my skin, it’s like therapy. It’s something I can control.”

Billy stops and look at you, his eyes looking you over. You see in his eyes that he gets it, that he too have been through some shit in his life. And maybe that’s why no more than 10 minutes later you’ve signed a contract to work at Anvil Tattoo Shop.

The first few days go by so fast. You get your own space and some new gear, watching as Billy works. One of his buddies, Frank, lets you do a little piece on him so they can see how you work. Billy looks over your shoulder at the little skull you’re tattooing onto Frank’s chest.

“Your linework is amazing. You’re already on your way to being a great artist, Shortcake.” Billy rubs your back softly before he walks back to his own station. You blush, thinking this is probably the best day ever in your life so far.

“Easy there, kiddo. Billy is taken.” Frank whispers with a smile, looking at your flushed cheeks. You just laugh, before putting the needle back to Frank's skin.

“Oh, don’t worry. He’s not my type.”

You could swear you hear Frank's heart stop for a second. You just grin, dipping the needle again, before tattooing again. “Okay, he is hot. Even a blind person could see that, but… I dunno, just not what I’m looking for.”

“I’ve never heard anyone say that before.” Frank chuckles, looking over at Billy. “I’m gonna rub that in his face.”

“Oh, I believe you.” You both grin as you finish up your work.

You’ve been there for almost a week now, when a new client walks in. Billy had already said that the next one through the doors would be yours and you’ve been sitting on the edge of your seat all morning. But your mood falters when you see his cane and glasses.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but this is a tattoo shop, just in case you didn’t see it. Fuck, I mean-” You bite your tongue, ready to bury yourself in a hole. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He chuckles, showing off a beautiful smile that leaves you weak in the knees.

“My brain stops working around hot guys.” You chuckle, but then shake your head, wishing the earth would just swallow you whole at this point. So fucking embarrassing. “Fuck. I’m sorry. Again. Look, I can get another artist for you.”

“I think you’ll be just fine.” He chuckles. Lucky for you, he seems to find your awkwardness adorable. You look to Billy, silently asking if it’s okay or if he’d rather pull you from this client, but all you see is him and Frank trying not to laugh.

“Okay, good. So what can we do for you today?”

“A tattoo would be nice.” He grins playfully and you hate the way you react to it.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place then.” You bite your lip, hating the fact that your first real client is this hunk of a man and not just some random girl. You really don’t want to make a fool of yourself but it seems like that ship has already sailed. “Right, if you come with me, we can discuss the design.”

“Would you mind?” He extends his arm for you to take, so you do, guiding him to a little desk where he can sit while you draw.

“Looks like we know what her type is now.” Frank whispers, making Billy break. They both laugh and you flip them off, making a mental note to kick their asses later.

“Hey Frank.” The man says, smiling in Frank's direction.

“Hey there Red. Didn’t picture you as a tattoo guy.”

“I’m full of surprises.” He smirks and you sense there’s some kind of inside joke between the men, especially when you see the way Frank just smiles, before he turns back towards Billy.

“So, uhm…”

“Matt.”

“Matt.” You say softly, thankful he is blind and can’t see the heavy blush on your cheeks or the way your eyes study his face. He is really handsome and you're instantly drawn to his lips. Really beautiful lips. This is bad. You should focus.

“What type of tattoo were you looking to get?” You question, but you’re not even sure you hear the answer. Something something catholic. Look at that jawline. And that scruff. Wonder how he’d look with a full beard?

“Okay, good good.” You cough, scribbling something down on paper. Matt laughs, placing one of his hands on your arm.

“You want me to repeat it?” He smirks. Shit. He knows. Of course he knows. He probably has this effect on every woman he meets.

“Yeah, that would be nice. Just so I’m sure we agree.” You say, this time really listening to him. You love the idea he has, already doing a little sketch as you talk. It’s a typical catholic tattoo, a cross, rosary and a text, but you’re determined to make this great and special.

Soon you’ve done talking, already have a time booked and an outline to work with. As Matt leaves the shop, you sigh at the counter, not being able to think about anything else than what color his eyes might be. Frank and Billy come up on either side of you, both with shiteating grins.

“You want me to help with the sketch? I think I paid more attention than you did.” Billy grins and Frank cracks up.

“Fuck off. Fuck all the way off.” You flip them the finger before walking back to your desk. This was probably going to be the hardest job in your career.

When Matt returns a few days later for his first appointment, you’re nervous. Not just because you’re going to be so close to the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, but also because you want to do a good job. You want to do Billy proud and Matt trusts you. He’s put more trust in you than anyone before. You’ve thought about it, him not being able to even know what you’re putting on his skin. So you’ve done something you never thought you’d do.

With help from an old artistic friend, you’ve managed to make a sketch he can feel. Each line is raised from the paper, almost like braille. You know he probably can’t make out everything, but at least it’s something. You slide the sketch over to Matt and watch as his fingers touch the paper.

“I know it’s not perfect, but I hope you can feel some of it.” You bite your bottom lip nervously, studying his face. He smiles as his fingers dance over the sketch and you see the surprise on his face when he reaches the text, made in braille. You already had another sketch with the actual text, this one was just for Matt.

“You-” He looks up, his eyes almost finding yours as he searches for the right words to say. “This is incredible. Thank you. You didn’t have to do all that for me.”

“Yeah, well… I know how much a tattoo can mean to a person and it’s something you’re gonna have with you forever, so… wanted you to know what I made for you.” You shrug, blushing again when you see the smile on Matt’s face.

“It’s perfect. And the most thoughtful thing anyone has done for me.” His hand lands on yours, giving it a soft squeeze. “So thank you. Well, should we get started then?”

“I’m ready when you are. Just let me prepare the stencil.”

You lead him to the chair before walking over to get the stencil ready. You hear Billy and Andy snicker softly, but you try to ignore them. But when you turn around, you stop dead in your tracks. There he is, shirtless. His body is beyond what you could even conjure up in your mind, muscular and hard. So hard.

You’re not a believer, but you almost feel like thanking God for bestowing Matt and his perfect body upon you. You praise yourself lucky he wants the tattoo on his back, cause if he had faced you, you’d never get it done.

After everything is prepped and Matt is ready, you start. He doesn’t even flinch as the needle pierces the skin.

“Just tell me if it hurts and you need a break. It is a big piece for a first tattoo.”

“I’m used to pain.” He smiles over his shoulder before laying down again and you continue your work. Billy walks over every now and then, complimenting your work. You’re happy for the praise, you really are, but you barely notice him, all your attention on Matt. How he breathes softly as you work, a small sigh or groan if you hit a sensitive spot.

“You have a very gentle touch.” He says at one point and you almost combust, thoughts about how you wish you could have your hands on Matt in a not so gentle manner. But you just bite your lip, trying not to say anything.

“You making Matt feel good over there, Shortcake?” Billy teases and you just shoot him a grin, shaking your head.

“Are you jealous?” You ask, making sure to look him in the eyes as you dip your needle. “I can do you once I’m done with Matt.”

“Oh, you got a deal.” He grins and you turn your attention back to Matt. It was all just for fun, both because he was your boss and he had a girl. But you enjoyed the playful banter and flirting.

All too soon you’re done with the first session and clean up Matt’s tattoo. You’re really proud of it so far and you make sure to tell Matt all about it, trying to give him a mental image of how it looks. At the counter, as you make his next appointment, he leans in close.

“So you and Billy… Are you dating?”

“What? No!” You say a little too loud, causing Andy to chuckle as Billy feign being hurt. You mouth a sorry before looking at Matt again. “No, we’re not. I’m single. Very single.”

“Good to know.” He gives you another one of his radiant smiles, before taking the card with the time of his next appointment. At the door he pauses. “So. How am I supposed to care for this when it’s on my back?”

“Oh, uhm… Maybe a friend… or your girlfriend can help you?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend. I’m very single too.” With a grin, he leaves the shop and you don’t even try to hide the grin on your face. He’s cute, single and you’re pretty sure he just maybe a subtle, but lewd suggestion. Oh, you’re definitely in trouble.

The next few days you try to forget about your hot client and luckily, Billy has some clients come in with wishes that match your style. So you emerge yourself in work, trying to make the days go faster.

When you walk into work, everyone else is already busy with clients. You greet them and see Billy’s girl is in for her second session. You’ve been dying to meet her, so you walk over. But before you say hi, her beautiful tattoo steals your attention. Billy’s work is always beautiful, but this octopus is something else. You lean in close to really see all the fine details, putting your hand on Billy’s shoulder very carefully.

“Wow! Billy, that’s incredible.” You say with a big smile.

“Thanks…” He pauses and looks up at you. “Shortcake, this is my sweet girl. Baby, this is my new artist, Shortcake.”

She extends her hand and you shake it, noticing the beautiful rose tattooed on the back of her hand. “Hi there. It’s nice to meet you.”

You could see what Billy saw in her. Beautiful and she seemed kind. And she did have very good taste in tattoos, so you already knew you’d like her too.

“Oh jeez, I should have recognized you from your pictures. Why didn’t you tell me she was coming in today, Billy?! It’s nice to meet you too.” You say, genuinely happy to finally meet her.

Sitting down at your station, you pull out some sketches for tonight’s client. “Wish I’d known she came though, so I could have made a better impression.” You gesture to your clothes and makeup which was very basic this evening.

Billy just smiles before looking over his shoulder. “You always look good.”

“Aw, thank you.” You smile with a shy shrug. “You too, by the way. Love the new hair.”

You don’t even think about it, always being flirty by nature, so for the rest of the evening you and Billy keep it up, all for fun of course. Your mind is still on Matt and your appointment tomorrow. You can’t wait to see him again.

“You’re daydreaming again.” You hear Billy say as he keeps working on Rose. “Thinking about anyone special?” He grins and you know he’s referring to Matt.

“Oh, you know there’s only one guy for me.” You wink at him, before returning to your client. You focus on your work, but the mention of your name makes you look up in time to see Rose walk out the shop.

“Done already?”

“She was just tired.” He looks after her and you don’t press him further and just return to your client.

One of your favorite things was to sleep in, just laying in bed, maybe reading a good book. And even though you had no plans before later today, you had woken up at dusk, unable to fall back to sleep. Today was Matt’s second appointment. A small part of you had thought about being slow today, dragging it out so he had to come back.

You had heard about Billy’s little trick with Rose, making sure she’d come back. You noticed it quickly. He works fast, but not with her. It was kinda cute. So maybe you could do the same? No, it wouldn’t be proper. You shake the thought as you get ready, deciding to head to the shop early. Better to use your time cleaning than just pace your apartment.

Getting there, you restock on colors, gloves, needles. Clean around your station and the others too. When Billy walks in, he seems pleasantly surprised, but also has a worried look on his face.

“You okay there, Shortcake?” He walks closer, leaning against the counter as he looks at you.

“Yeah, just… Getting ready for Ma- my appointment. Thought I’d clean a bit.” You smile, continuing to sweep the floor. But Billy's hand on yours stops you.

“I can see you’re not.” He takes the broom from you and puts it aside, getting you to sit down on your chair. “You really like this guy?”

“Well, I don’t have to.” You shrug, looking away. Even though Billy has mixed business with pleasure, it doesn't make it okay for you to do it too. He and Rose had been friends for years, so that was different. “I know it would be unprofessional, so-”

With raised brows, Billy looks at you and for a minute you’re not sure if he truly is offended. But his face makes you giggle. “I’m sorry, Billy. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” He reassures you as he pulls you in for a quick hug, before he lets you go again. “You’re talented and you’ll do great. And if that Murdock guy doesn’t like you back, he’s a fool. Now, back to work.”

He pats your back as you walk away and returns to his own stuff. You look over your shoulder, thankful for Billy and for him taking a chance on you.

Walking through the doors to the Anvil Tattoo Shop was the highlight of Matt’s week. Ever since the last appointment, he had been thinking about you. Besides being one of the most thoughtful women he’d ever met, you were funny, flirty and smart.

Throughout the session he had a hard time focusing with your hands on him. Surprisingly gentle, considering the needle in your hand. He hadn’t felt the pain, not really, too focused on you. How your heart would beat faster whenever he touched you or gave you a compliment. How your blood would rush to your cheeks at his smile. But most importantly he was surprised at how much he loved his name on your lips.

“I’m ready for you, Matt.” You say softly and Matt has to fight not to smile like a fool at your sweet voice. He follows you to the chair, smirking as he hears the way your breath hitch at seeing his bare chest.

Like the last time, time flies by in the chair. He should feel bad for being here, for enjoying your company as you defile his skin, but he doesn’t. He’ll atone for it later. Atone for the impure thoughts about you.

He knew he would feel everything more given his heightened senses, but this he would never have expected. How soft your touch is, how your breath ghost over his skin when you lean in closer. Your body pressed against his all while inflicting him with this sweet pain.

Between your flirty remarks and your genuine attempt to get to know him, you ask if he’s okay. How can he even answer that? Now that he’s felt this, he will never be okay again. He is exposed in a way he’s never been before, completely at your mercy.

“How’s it going here?” Billy asks as he inspects the tattoo. There’s about an hour's work left and you’re so happy with what you’ve done so far and by the look on Billy’s face, he's proud of your work too.

“With me or her?” Matt questions, making you smile again. “Cause even though I’m no stranger to pain, it’s starting to hurt a little.”

You all laugh and before you can stop yourself, you gently caress Matt’s arm, promising him it’s over soon. Billy gives you a soft pat on the back and notices how some of your hair has gotten loose, so he tugs it back behind your ear, so it’s not blurring your vision.

“Don’t worry, Matt. I’m sure she’ll make it up to you.” Billy winks up at Matt and you can’t help but play along.

“Oh, you know me, Billy. Always leave ‘em feeling good.”

He just about to say something back, when you hear Rose call him from the counter. You’d been so busy with Matt and Billy, neither of you had noticed her come in. She seems upset, so Billy quickly leaves you to your work and follows her out.

“You know what's happening?” Andy asks quietly and you just shake your head. You’re suddenly nervous on Billy’s behalf. You know he’s in love with Rose, that’s clear to see, so you really hope there aren't any problems.

“So, if Billy isn’t your type, who is?” Matt’s question takes you by surprise. You had never mentioned that to anyone besides Frank.

“Ehm, well… I’ve always had a thing for mysterious guys with red glasses. And I do have a thing for eyes, especially if they’re-” you drag out the last word, watching Matt smile as he removes his glasses, revealing the most beautiful hazel eyes you’ve ever seen, “-hazel. I was gonna say that, you know.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You work a little more, seeing out of the corner of your eye how Andy is making his way to the door, trying to eavesdrop on Billy and Rose. Dipping the needle again, you sigh. “I hope he’s not in trouble.”

“He’s not anymore.”

Before you can ask how he knows, they return and everyone in the shop pretends nothing is wrong. When you find out the reason behind Rose being upset, you could kick yourself. You apologize to her several times, promising you didn’t mean anything with the flirting. It’s in your nature, but you promise not to do it again.

Everything seems to fall into place and you finish up Matt’s tattoo. It’s beautiful, if you had to say so yourself and you knew Matt would love it when you tell him about it.

“You know-” he starts, smiling softly, “- the last time it was quite hard to do the aftercare properly. And my friend Foggy was not too pleased with rubbing my back.”

“Well, we can’t have that. So what do you suggest then?” You laugh seductively.

“What if I buy you dinner?” He gives you a flirty smile, making your heart beat hard in your chest. “Then you can tell me all about the after care or… You could show me?”

“Dinner sounds great.” You giggle, feeling your cheeks burn. “But I’m not off until 9.”

“I can take your last client.” Billy says behind you. “She can be ready at 7.”

You look over at Billy with his arms around Rose, both of them giving you a big smile. You mouth a thank you, before returning to Matt to discuss the details about tonight. When he leaves, you can’t help but smile. Dream job and maybe soon, a dream man. You couldn’t really imagine life getting any better than this.

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