#imagine already being scared that you could lose a cat any day and then this happens | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beachedmessagebottles · 2 years

Text

Journal Entry

Summary: A peculiar Pokémon Platinum is picked up by a child named Kate, the journal feature showing words it normally doesn’t.

CW: Alluded to subjects of childhood fear, abandonment, loneliness, nightmares, sentient game characters, and game deletion.

I don’t think I need much of an introduction, everyone likes Pokémon. Okay, that’s not necessarily true, but it’s popular, and I like it. I liked it since I was a little kid. However, I spent a long time actually being afraid of Pokémon games when I was younger? I was in elementary school when I got my first Pokémon game. People might call me a fraidy-cat, but everybody has a stupid fear when they were a kid. Kids are imaginative.

I don’t really know how to describe this in rational thought. I recently revisited it and well… I can’t. I just can’t tell what to make of it. I offer no reasonings, no logic, nothing to make sense of this. It just is. Maybe I should just start already.

I got Pokémon Platinum for Christmas when I was little. I was a little worried because of Giratina on the cover but Palkia and Dialga didn’t strike me as ‘really cool’ either. I thought perhaps if it ever showed up, a grown-up could help me scare it away. I knew of Pokémon due to the anime I caught sometimes when watching TV, that’s why I wanted it, but at that point I didn’t know many legendaries or the formula, I didn’t know it was at the end of the game. I thought it would appear at any moment.

I still played it of course despite me being a little shaken, I was still excited it was a new game to play. I’d just choose the ones I actually found cute or cool. So, I started and it was standard normal fair. I named my character my own name, I named my rival (though kept it as Barry), and chose my first Pokémon, a cute little Piplup named ‘PENGIE.’

My journey was normal. I didn’t know what I was doing and fainted constantly, but I was having fun at least. I saved maybe about once, and I skipped over boring tutorials because they didn’t interest little me. I eventually got all my stuff from my in-game mom. The journal somewhat peaked my interest, could I write in it? It turns out, I couldn’t, it records bits and pieces of your adventure with help from the clock, a little reminder on what you were doing each day, like if you caught a Pokémon. I don’t find it all that helpful in my adult years but right then and there I liked to pretend I was writing it down myself.

December 25 Thursday

Started from Twinleaf Town.

For some reason, those words just made me very happy.

One day though, I made a crucial mistake of not saving. I was horribly upset that I lost some progress. I had lost my first badge but even more upset I was at losing some of my Pokémon. The journal booting up proved that. In some desperate attempt to prove myself wrong I flipped through the pages.

December 29 Monday

STARLY was caught (Day) Route 202

BIDOOF was caught (Day) Route 204

Remember to save!

I was ecstatic that it remembered. I didn’t notice if they technically weren’t the same Pokémon I had actually caught. They were them in my mind. I quickly rushed to catch them again and swore I’d never let them go. I saved immediately after that, not taking my second chance for granted. I never forgot to save after that. Just in case I reset the game to calm my nerves that they’d actually be still there.

December 29 Monday

STARLY was caught (Day) Route 202

BIDOOF was caught (Day) Route 204

Don’t worry KATE, you’ll remember.

I’ll help you until then.

It was comforting, but I didn’t know exactly whoever was talking to me. I flipped the page.

December 29 Monday

Oh! That’s right!

I haven’t introduced myself!

We have the same name,

But you can call me DAWN.

I hope you like the world of Pokémon.

And I did. I loved it. I was absolutely fine until Floaroma Town. There were sketchy Plasma members I was warned about, but the fact they were holding a little girl’s father hostage wasn’t a pleasant thought. I didn’t want to touch the game for a while before gathering the courage to.

January 10 Saturday

Started in Floaroma Town.

I know you’re scared

But we can’t let this happen

Our Pokémon are by our side

I’m by your side.

Be careful with Mars.

I didn’t know who Mars was yet, but I took Dawn’s advice. I pieced together that she was the player character with how she referred to the Pokémon I caught. Every time I saved she wrote in a journal, or at least the icon was, it made perfect sense to me. I followed her word however, the Purrugly hit hard, but with Dawn’s warning, we took it down with ease.

It was like this for the rest of the game. She would tell me what to do and I’d follow it, I didn’t know about EVs and IVs but Dawn did. She told me to attack specific Pokémon, build the best team I could while also letting me pick the ones I absolutely had to have at that exact moment, focus on the harder battles ahead while grinding so I didn’t lose too much steam.

The story however I didn’t like as much, the shaking of my screen while Team Plasma attacked lakes was too much. Dawn said that they needed our help, but I couldn’t listen.

February 20 Friday

You’ve been gone a while.

I’m sorry, if it was too much.

We can train instead?

March 11 Wednesday

Hi again, KATE!

Are you ready now?

March 12 Thursday

Is that a no?

We can focus on the POKÉDEX!

May 31 Sunday

Is it that bad? Are you that scared?

We’re friends, right, KATE? You can tell me.

June 4 Thursday

It’s summer now, isn’t it?

Are you more free?

Thank you for finishing up the lakes.

She wasn’t as talkative in the summertime. I felt bad, so I kept avoiding it. I don’t know why, it would’ve been easier to tell her that I was. Did I just not want to admit it? It happened so long ago my memory’s somewhat hazy of that summer.

What I won’t forget is everyone’s first jumpscare. Giratina’s red pupils might as well have bored into my soul as it swept at my face. I grimaced, shutting the game off. Remembering the reset would only go back, I hid under my covers as I turned it back on.

July 8 Wednesday

Oh.

I forgot.

I’m so sorry. Please don’t go.

July 8 Wednesday

I don’t want to be alone.

I don’t want you to be scared.

It’s not real. It won’t hurt you.

Despite those words, I shut my eyes tight during the start screen and now the cutscene with Giratina. The Distortion World made no sense. I nearly broke down in tears as I caught it in the Master Ball.

July 8 Wednesday

You’re so brave, Kate.

I’m sorry that I had to continue.

You can leave anytime. I won’t blame you.

I don’t want to lie to you.

I’ll tell more when you come back.

See you… sometime.

I had nightmares for a long while of that place, I fell through holes, I got lost in circles, Giratina dragged me down to the depths of darkness. Its wings pierced and out my body in a cage if it’s skeletal-like wings. The Master Ball would jiggle until the third and final time, with a sickening crack, its roar deafening my ears. I hated it so much.

I tried at least to gather the courage, she had said she’d explain, but I didn’t want to see that hideous thing ever again, so I avoided the boxes as much as I could while making my final way up to the champion’s title while shivering in my boots.

August 3 Monday

You’re back, you’re really back!

I’m so glad. I thought you’d left for good.

The truth is I’m not supposed to talk to you

I don’t know why. It’s just a feeling.

But I wanted to so much,

I wanted to meet my friend.

My player.

I, Dawn, am just who you are here in the world.

August 3 Monday

I could tell by the mic, you’re pretty young.

So I wanted to guide you on your first journey.

I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense.

Just know you’ll always make me happy.

That’s all I want to make you.

She just wanted to make me happy and yet, I couldn’t be happy, with it hanging over my head. Not that a little kid would’ve understood the sword of Damocles, but to me it was exactly like that. If I went into my boxes, there it would be. I refused. I shuddered. I perished the thought. To never see it again, I’d have to get rid of it, but I couldn’t face it, not as pixels on a screen, not on the box, not on the cartridge.

She wanted to be happy for me, I wanted to be rid of this horrid thing. I swallowed, I just had to finish. Though I dared not enter the boxes, she tried to prepare me anyways. Rare candies hidden in secret spots, all the elixirs and potions I could hold, the coveted revives. A trick of saving before and after every Elite 4 member. I was unfortunately ready.

It was tough, when you can’t swap around the members due to stubbornness, yet I managed, PENGIE had stayed all the way in the team, and my other Pokémon weren’t much to scoff at after training, even if little me wanted to bring in less stronger Pokémon like Chatot. Dawn didn’t say much to it, presumably awkwardly, though she commented she liked it’s voice clip, a cut off of me saying ‘hi.’

Any Pokémon game can be won, even if it’s Champion is tough as nails, I threw myself at her over and over until it was done, the ace Garchomp whittled down to its last hit points. I held my breath at the last move— we had won. The look back of Dawn and all our Pokémon was sweet. Too sweet for me as I stared back at the cover case of the game, goosebumps littering my skin. I didn’t want to be here anymore, I didn’t want to see it anymore.

I can make our last play-throughs count. She’ll understand, I’m happy that we won, at least. So, she’ll be happy too with what I can give her. With all the money I had left over, I went to work, buying all the balls I could.

August 4 Sunday

That’s a lot of Pokéballs,

are you finishing the Dex?

There’s some that are trade evolutions.

You’ll have to trade with other people.

I didn’t do that.

I walked into the tall grass, expecting to find say a Rattata, fodder. I instead found a new Pokémon I had helped before, and it had helped me. Mesprit. I was amazed about it roaming around, even though I had been told before. I lobbed a ball at it, full health. It refused to stay. It didn’t say the usual text though when the ball broke open.

What am I doing wrong?

Huh. Was that Dawn? It couldn’t be, she only spoke through the entries. I tossed another ball.

I want to be a good guide for her. For Kate.

It was her. Being curious, I chose the regular Pokéball, but I only had a few left at this point.

What’s she doing?

Is this my fault? Am I scaring her?

The game is.

But I can’t change that.

I want to be a good trainer for her.

It’s not supposed to be ‘scary.’

What will happen to me?

We’re supposed to be friends.

I’m scared.

I want to convince her but I can’t force her.

I don’t want her to leave.

I can’t think when the game is off.

I’m scared.

I’m just a kid too.

Mesprit used Struggle!

It’s health dropped a little, and the dialogue went back to normal, no matter what I chose.

I think I turned the game off then. I don’t know, it’s been years.

Dawn was just an imaginary friend I had as a kid. I found my DS, dusty and old with the cartridge in, it took a while to charge it, I couldn’t find the plug. A rush of nostalgia came to me, Giratina doesn’t scare me anymore, I’m older now, I’m an adult. How could it?

The journal opened up.

September 13 Tuesday

Kate? Is that you?

You’re back?

You’re actually back?

I blinked. I flipped the page.

September 13 Tuesday

You’re so old now.

But you’re back.

You didn’t leave me.

One more page. My screen was suddenly wet with tears.

September 13 Tuesday

I’m so happy.

The game doesn’t move. I pressed any button I could. There was no response. I pressed the power button to reset.

The save file has been erased due to corruption or damage.

#my writing #pokepasta #pokemon #pokemon creepypasta #FINALLY ITS DONE THIS TOOK FOREVER

21 notes · View notes

navegandoaciegas · 4 years

Text

Not so shy now

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: You’ve been pushing Bucky’s buttons for days, and he finally snaps.

Warnings: smut, 18+, watersports, omorashi, dom!Bucky, brat!reader, a lil’ bit of humiliation and daddy kink, outdoor sex, rough sex.

A/N: I don’t usually write dom!Bucky, but I hope you’ll like this!

You weren’t one for the outdoors, that Bucky had found out the hard way a couple hours into your mission together, being the sole witness to your bitching and complaining for hours on end.

10 days later, all he wanted to do was bludgeon you to sleep until the mission was over.

Or alternatively, fuck you stupid until you’d all but forget about your backpack being too heavy, the bugs being gross, the blisters in your feet too painful and the meals too bland.

He’d been painfully hard for days and his ears just needed a break from your endless complaints, and stuffing your loud mouth with his aching cock seemed like a practical solution to both problems.

And Bucky was nothing but a practical man.

“Barnes,” you huffed, voice coming out in a childish whine, “Bucky? Buck? Let’s take a break, I need to pee.”

And of course, the biggest problem that had surfaced in your time together: you drank like a camel but your bladder had the capacity of a toddler’s.

“You went less than an hour ago, you can’t be serious right now.”

You, on the other hand, watched in amusement as Bucky turned around, a murderous glint in his eyes. You wondered how much more he could take, how much more you could push, until your grumpy but collected colleague would finally snap.

You felt giddy with excitement imagining all the ways that vibranium arm of his could put you in your place. Would he slap you, choke you, pull your hair? Would he be condescending or mean, how much would he degrade you, and most importantly how much could you take before you broke?

“I couldn’t really go,” you shrugged, feigning innocence, “I was scared that a bug would crawl up my ass, to be honest. And I have a shy bladder, you know. Can’t pee if you’re hovering behind the trees.”

“I wasn’t hovering,” he cried out in disbelief, crossing his arms over his middle.

You smiled wryly, following the flexing muscles of his bulging biceps with your eyes.

“You kind of have a hovering problem, Barnes. A staring one too but we can unpack all that later, I really need to pee right now.”

You stomped over to him, swinging your backpack over your shoulder and hitting him square in the chest with it, mumbling a ‘thanks’. He let out a wheeze, stumbling back as you kept walking.

“You fuckin’ brat,” you heard him grumble, “Been gettin’ on my damn nerves all week.”

You heard a loud thump behind you, and before you could turn around, you were yanked by the arm, and your back hit the trunk of a tree as Bucky caged you against it with his beefy frame.

“It’s about time someone put you in your place, isn’t it? You’ve been running your mouth, so loud and so fuckin’ annoying, bitching and moaning about everything.”

You opened your mouth to sass back at him, but his rough, callous hand grabbed your jaw, shutting you up.

“I’ll give you a reason to bitch and moan, sweetheart.”

Before you could process it, Bucky slanted his mouth against yours in a messy kiss, all clattering teeth and drool, his hands forcefully roaming over your body, you tightly clutching his biceps for support.

You were dripping already, panties ruined with the amount of slick that leaked out of your pussy.

You’d been fantasizing about this moment for nearly a year, and in the end it had only taken you 10 days to crack your colleague. Although, as one of his hands groped your breasts and the other kneaded your ass, you had the feeling that he would be the one to crack you. And your back, and neck.

His hips bucked against yours, and your walls fluttered against nothing as you felt his hard length press on you. You’d accidentally seen him before, and you knew he was going to fill you up like no one ever could before him.

You could ignore the pressure in your bladder and the simmering pain in your lower belly for the moment, in favor of losing yourself in the warmth of his built body, in the shivers that ran down your spine with every one of his rough touches.

In a blur, your t-shirt was discarded, your bra ripped and your pants and panties shoved down your legs, while he stood completely clothed over you.

His thick fingers weren’t delicate when they cupped your cunt, harshly pressing down on your engorged clit, but he was so intoxicating that you could forget the scratch of his nails and the mosquitoes tormenting your ankles.

Fuck, neither of you smelled like roses after a whole day of hiking, but all that you could feel was Bucky and the goosebumps and love bites he left behind.

He leaned back just to watch his fingers dip into your dripping folds, smirking at the way you shuddered.

“Fuck, I just knew you were a fuckin’ whore, you’re so wet for me.”

He plunged inside you, feeling your walls clamp down on his hand.

“What, cat’s got your tongue? You’ve been pestering me all week, if I knew this would get you to shut up I would have done it before, doll.”

You moaned his name when his fingers curled inside you, and the tingly sensation in your lower abdomen made your eyes widen in realization.

You still needed to piss. A lot. And the more Bucky’s vibranium hand jerked inside your pussy, the more your urge grew, the pressure so painfully, maddening pleasant.

Bucky latched his lips onto your pulse point, sucking a bruise on it. You clenched your thighs, whining in shame and need, as you fought the urge to release in his hand.

If you accidentally pissed on him, you’d just quit your job and change identity.

You couldn’t bear the shame of it, brows scrunching as you willed your tense muscles to hold in.

Bucky was none the wiser, continuing his ministration and mistaking your heaving chest and copious sweat for pleasure.

It was delirious, brain turned to mush as part of you wanted to let go and cum (and piss), while the other restrained your urges, and witheld your orgasm.

Bucky’s thick fingers inched you closer and closer to your release, but you bit on your lip and dug your nails in his back to stop you from falling off the edge.

“Don’t hold yourself back, doll. I wanna see you fall apart on my fingers and on my cock, wanna make you cream my fingers, pretty girl. I know you can do it.”

Your entire body shook as he doubled his efforts, panting against your ear as his arm vibrated inside your pussy.

You squeezed your eyes shut, body on fire as you tried and failed to conjure any gross image that could sour your mood. None of it worked, though.

A sharp yet somewhat delicate slap on your face brought you face to face with Bucky’s pissed expression.

“Damn brat, never doing what she’s asked,” he tsked, shaking his head, “You’re lucky you’re so pretty.”

You whined in disappointment but internally cheered when his fingers slipped out of you, and despite the emptiness he left behind, your aching bladder could finally sigh in relief.

Relief that was short lived when he manhandled you again, spinning you around and slamming you front against the tree, ass up in the air.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” you heard him mumble as he tugged his sweats and boxers down to free himself, “Wanted you for so long.”

He slapped his leaking cock on your ass, hot and heavy.

“Please, Bucky, please,” you whimpered, parting your legs wider.

You should have been begging for him to stop, but the ache in your pussy was too unbearable, and the prospect of his fat cock splitting you in half too appetizing.

“I like the sound of that, c-could get used to this.”

You felt as the breath had been knocked out of you when he breached your entrance, your gummy walls sucking him in. He felt better than you’d imagined all those lonely nights with your fingers down your panties, his name on your tongue as you made yourself cum imagining his hand instead of yours.

His breaths tickled the back of your ear as he gave you time to adjust, bracing one arm against the tree and the other on your shoulder.

Once he started thrusting inside you, the ache returned, stronger than it had been before.

His cock hit all the right spots inside you, which also meant that it jammed against your bursting bladder with each forceful snap of his hips.

The heat in your core was so great that you couldn’t feel the bark scratch against your chest, or the sweat trickling down his hair onto your back.

Again, you wanted to beg him to stop but words failed you, and all you could muster were some broken whimpers as your tongue lolled out of your mouth and you lost your mind on his dick.

The more he pistoned inside you, the more your need to cum grew, the more the idea of pissing all over yourself and Bucky seemed less scary.

“I can feel your tight pussy clamping down on me, doll. So tight, so good to me. Fuck,” he groaned, lost in his own pleasure, cock swelling inside, “‘M all yours, all yours.”

His arm snaked around your waist to pull you flush to his chest, which proved to be an awful move when his hand pressed against your bladder and you shrieked, a spurt of piss erupting out of you.

“God, you’re squirting? Oh God, fuck,” he grunted, clenching his teeth, “I’ve never made anyone do that before.”

You wanted to laugh, and cry.

“Bucky, Buck, stop, please, stop, I can’t, I-“

“Yes, you can, you’re doing so good for me, c’mon.”

“Bucky, no.”

Your tone was much harder than before, and Bucky froze like a deer caught in the headlight behind you.

You could feel his heaving chest on your back, and could sense his confusion in the air.

“But I thought…?” he muttered, pulling out of you, “Did I hurt you?”

You debated lying to him, but settled on telling the truth despite how humiliating it could be.

“No,” you hesitated, drawing in a deep breath, “‘S just, I really need to pee, I can’t hold it anymore.”

The air was still for a moment. You gulped, not daring to meet his eyes. After what felt like a century, you heard a low growl behind you.

“You and this damn piss,” he grunted, “Gettin’ on my nerves again, you fuckin’ brat. Always drinking water and whining like a child.”

His fingers dug painfully in your hips, surely leaving bruises behind. You were too speechless to protest.

“‘Bout time I teach you a lesson, sweetheart. I’ve been too good to you, and like the little brat you are, you’ve taken advantage.”

Bucky slammed his cock inside you again, pistoning his hips with brutal force while his hand found your front again.

The pad of his callous finger traced the bulge of your bladder, tickling the skin before pressing down on the swelling.

You had no time to think or react before your body acted on its own, releasing another spurt of hot piss against the tree.

You clenched your muscles to hold the rest of the piss in, and Bucky groaned behind you, feeling your pussy throb around him. You could tell he was getting off on your humiliation, watching you struggle to keep your dignity as he played your body like a fiddle.

“And I thought you were squirting,” he chuckles, “C’mon, piss all over yourself like the dumb bitch you are, princess. Show daddy how stupid his little toy is.”

Had you been more conscious, his alternating moods would have given you whiplash, but your sole reaction was to clamp down harder on him, biting on your lips until you could taste your blood on your tongue.

His cock dragging up and down your walls, the pressure in your cunt, the pain in your bladder, his hand on your belly, it was all becoming too much.

You opened your mouth to scream and all that came out were incoherent mumblings as you released all over yourself and his cock, your hot piss coming out in spurts as he kept fucking you.

“Dumb fuckin’ brat, you’re gonna be a good girl and cream all over daddy’s fat cock, aren’t you?”

You nodded, trembling head to toe with the sweetest release you’d ever felt, mind completely wiped as you lost control over your own body.

“Daddy, daddy please,” you wailed, “Make me cum, please.”

Your voice didn’t sound like your own as you begged, Bucky’s words lost on you when the ring in your ears got louder and louder.

You didn’t realize you were cumming until waves of searing hot pleasure crashed through you, the orgasm so intense you felt like you were going to black out.

You had the impression of being underwater, blissfully disoriented from reality, Bucky’s cock being to only thing to ground you.

You felt him throb and grow inside you, and he came with a grunt, filling your cunt with his hot cum so much that it began spilling out of your pussy while he was still hard inside you.

You both slumped against the tree, his arms around your chest, his head on your shoulder.

You were covered in dirt, piss, sweat and cum, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Not so shy now, that bladder of yours, hm?”

——

Pease let me know if you enjoyed the filth! Leave some feedback and reblog if you can! ❤️

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine

2K notes · View notes

bamby0304 · 3 years

Text

Her Saviours- Ch.30

Series Masterlist

Summary: During an odd case, the Winchesters came across Y/N, a scared young Omega girl who had been used as a lure for a nest of vampires. After rescuing her from the monsters, John and his sons took her in knowing she was in no state to live among ordinary people. But three Alphas and one Omega is a mixture bound for disaster.

Warnings: Explicit language. ABO dynamics. Angst. Violence. Kidnapping.

Bamby

You sat on the hood of your truck… well… the truck you’d stole two days ago. It was about time to ditch it. Right now, however, you were focused on the flames in front of you. During the month you’d been on your own you’d managed to gank a total of three ghosts by yourself. Sure, it wasn’t like you were wrestling werewolves and wrangling wendigoes, but you felt pretty badass nonetheless.

This particular ghost had been a bitch to get down. He’d clawed you up like a damn cat. You’d barely had the strength to toss your lighter into his grave, which was located in the middle of the woods. His hands had been so tightly wrapped around your throat you knew for a fact there were already bruises forming.

Sam and Dean would kill you if they knew what you were doing.

You’d ditched your phone the second you’d ditched the Winchesters. Of course you weren’t a complete fool. First you sent out a message to Bobby, letting him know you were safe but venturing off on your own. You knew he’d let the boys know as soon as they started pestering him for information.

Normally you went to him after a fight. Whenever you’d needed a break from either the brothers or John, you always ended up at Bobby’s. They knew that. It’s why they’d been bugging him last time you’d run off. He might not have given away the details but they would have known, deep down, that you were there with him.

Not this time, though. No, you weren’t taking the risk. Having been gone for so long, Sam and Dean would have actually dragged their asses to Bobby’s to drag you back with them. Part of you kinda wished you could have seen the look on their faces.

With the flames dying down, you sighed and climbed off the truck. Slipping in behind the wheel, you turned her on, backed up, and decided to head south. You’d heard about a guy that had gone missing one state over, and how a kid who was witness to it was insisting he’d been taken by some kind of monster.

It wasn’t much, but it was something. If it turned out to be the kid’s wild imagination then you could always just move on to the next thing. Until then, you had nothing to lose, no reason not to go check this thing out.

…

Rolling through the town, you pulled out your disposable phone to check the time. It wasn’t late or anything, but you doubted the kid’s parents would appreciate you knocking on their door at this hour. So, instead of pursuing the case, you decided to stop by the local bar.

You left the car you’d picked up earlier that day on the side of the road a few blocks away from the bar. Carrying what little you had, you headed for the bar, hoping your suppressants would do their job and keep unwanted attention away from you.

So far you’d had some decent luck being out alone in society. An Omega your age would normally be with a mate or an Alpha or Beta carer. You were young and therefore presumably weak, timid, and… ripe for the taking.

With the way Dean, Sam and John stressed all the time, you had imagined you would’ve been harassed a million times over by now, but you’d barely had to shrug off a dozen Alphas during the month on your own.

You were really starting to believe things weren’t as bad as you’d feared.

The second you walked through the bar’s door all eyes turned to you. Perhaps I should rethink that theory…

Keeping your head held high, you made your way through the small crowd and headed for the first free table you spotted. Dumping your things on one of the free chairs at the table, you sat yourself down and focused on not paying anyone any attention as the gazes slowly drifted away from you.

“You okay, darlin’?”

Looking up, you smiled at the Omega waitress standing in front of you. She was pretty, red hair, a little bit of a tan that almost hid the littering of freckles all over her. She was tall for an Omega, and not as shapely as your kind normally were. She was different, charming looking but not in the typical sweet Omega way. No, she looked like she could handle herself.

Your eyes flickered to her neck, noticing the many scars on display. One sniff of her though and you could sense that those marks were all from the same Alpha. She was practically saturated in his scent.

“My man gets a little paranoid with me workin’ in a place like this. Doesn’t matter that I can kick his ass, he still frets over all these hungry animals.” She cracked a grin.

Lifting your gaze back up to hers, you smiled back at her. “I know a few Alphas like that, too.”

She nodded. “You’re pretty tiny, but I can tell you’d be able to knock a dog down a peg or two if you needed.”

It wasn’t the prettiest of compliments you’d heard but it made the Omega in you waggle with praise. You didn’t tend to feel that capable of yourself so for someone to suggest otherwise made you feel pretty amazing.

“Still, you okay honey? Young thing like you might be able to handle herself but that don’t mean you won’t stay outta trouble.”

“She’s not alone.”

Your back went rigid as all the hairs on your body stood on their end.

Their scents hit you then. You’d been so focussed on the Omega waitress, you hadn’t bothered keeping track of your surroundings. You didn’t think you’d need to with her watching your back in a way. But you could smell them now.

The unmistakable scent of ginger and musk, coffee and rosewood, with gunpowder and molasses.

Shifting in your seat, you looked over your shoulder at the two Alphas.

Dean was glaring at you with that disapproving look he’d perfected after having taken care of Sam as a kid. He was relieved- at least you hoped he was- he just wouldn’t show it until he was certain he’s made you feel guilty enough.

Sam, on the other hand, was filled with relief. Much like his brother, however, you knew he’d show more of his true feelings later. The younger brother was softer until you were alone with him. He could be scary if you didn’t find it so attractive.

“Darlin’, we got a problem here?” the waitress asked, eyeing the brothers. “I can get these two kicked outta here, all you gotta do is say the word.”

Chewing on your lip, you shook your head. “We’re fine. I know them.”

“Okay.” She relaxed a little, but with the way she was still eyeing the brothers, you knew she would stay true to her word and kick them out if you changed your mind. “Just wave me over when you’re ready to order.” Giving your arm a squeeze, she then headed off- not before giving the Winchesters one last warning glare.

Not caring about the death glare he and his brother were getting, Dean stepped up to you as Sam slid into the seat across from you. Your eyes were on the eldest of the two, though, as he continued to look at you with complete disapproval and disappointment.

“You have any idea how worried shitless we’ve been?”

“I can take a guess.” You shrugged, knowing your casual demeanour would only piss him off further.

His jaw clicked as he clenched it. “This isn’t funny, Y/N. You’ve been gone a month. We thought… we had no idea if you were even alive.”

It had been a thought that had plagued your mind with guilt during the time you’d been alone. Your adventure had not come easy. You knew everyone would be worried about you, and being an Omega meant you felt the need to fix that. You wanted to reassure everyone that you were safe and sound, but the only way to do that was to give in and give up.

Things just weren’t so black and white anymore. Hell, you were beginning to realise that they’d never been black and white. You were stuck between three Alphas who couldn’t or wouldn’t give you the commitment you needed. Without that commitment, you had other urges. You wanted to be your own self.

Being with the Winchesters had its restrictions. Dean and John had proven time and time again that you would always be held back. With Dean it was only to a certain point, but it was still a point you didn’t like.

Leaving gave you space. You didn’t have to watch them flirt with anyone else. Dean was the worst, going from girl to girl. Sam was bound to join in eventually- and you hadn’t forgotten the year and a half he spent with Jess. John wasn’t around to be a problem but you could recall the countless times he’d picked to settle between someone else’s thighs rather than yours. Knowing they all had someone else to turn to, and chose to do so, etched away at your self esteem and sanity.

You also got to escape the tension that had been growing between you and the brothers. Slapping Dean had been the last straw, but before then there’d been warning signs. Sam and Dean had been fighting and posturing over you for weeks. They’d been competing, both consciously and subsciously, for a while and it had taken its toll on all of you. Running away meant running away from that.

“I needed a break. To be honest… I think we all did,” you countered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t think I don’t remember what made me run away, Dean. I slapped you.”

His gaze softened then, as his thoughts went back to that day. “You didn’t mean it.”

“In the moment I did,” you argued. “And whether you meant what you said or not, you still said it. We both made mistakes. We were going to keep making them.” You gestured to Sam then. “And you two were going to keep trying to dominate the other. I had to go, for everyone’s sanity.”

“We went crazy looking for you,” Sam spoke. You looked over at him, seeing some of that earlier softness in his eyes fade. “If you were so worried about our sanity you should have said something. Running away only made things worse.”

Again, you shrugged. “Not for me.”

“Sure,” Dean scoffed. “Say that to the bruises on your neck.” Shaking his head, he finally took a seat. “What the hell happened? An Alpha get to you?”

Tugging on your jacket’s collar, you tried to hide the bruises as much as possible. “It was a ghost, actually.”

Dean clenched his jaw again.

“You’ve been hunting?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” you answered honestly and shortly. “And before you get your panties in a twist, they’ve all been salt and burn cases. Ghosts only. I’ve been playing it safe.”

“We can see your fucking neck, Y/N. Is that really what ‘playing it safe’ is supposed to look like?” Dean barked.

The two of you just glared at each other, neither one of you backing down. It was a rare moment where you refused to give into your Omega instincts and let the Alpha win. Having been on your own, it seemed you’d grown a rebellious streak.

“Okay…” Sam interjected, sensing that the tension between you and hit brother was only going to keep growing until someone snapped. It would inevitably end you you two fighting or fucking- neither of which you could do in public. “The case.” He looked to you. “Are you here because of the missing guy?”

“Yeah.” Nodding, you begrudgingly tore your eyes away from Dean and turned to his brother. “Heard some kid was a witness and insists it was a monster.”

“He was watching horror movies at the time,” Dean noted.

“And local police have now ruled out foul play,” Sam added. “Apparently, there are worse signs of a struggle.” He gestured to the file he’d set on your table. “I’ve done some research.”

A smile tugged onto your lips. “Of course.”

Dean rolled his eyes, staying on track. “Well, they could be right, it could just be a kidnapping. Maybe this isn’t our kind of gig.”

“Yeah, maybe not. Except for this,” Sam pulled out John’s journal from his jacket. “Dad marked the area, Dean.” He turned to a page and showed you and Dean. “Possible hunting grounds of a phantom attacker.”

Taking his father’s journal, Dean frowned at what was written on the page Sam had turned to. “Why would he even do that?”

“Well, he found a lot of local folklore about a dark figure that comes out at night,” Sam noted. “Grabs people, then vanishes. He found this too.” He took the journal back and flipped a couple of pages. “This county has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the state.”

As Dean took the book once more, you didn’t care to look at what Sam was showing. You were too distracted by the sight of the leather bound book. It was the most important object in John’s life. He loved and cared for that thing like it was a living being. You’d been taught to respect and trust it. Seeing it again, after having been gone from the Winchesters for so long, you felt a strong pang of guilt, regret, and loneliness hit you.

“That is weird.” Dean closed the journal and gave it back to his brother, drawing your attention back to reality. “Don’t phantom attackers usually snatch people from their beds? Jenkins was taken from a parking lot.”

“Well, there are all kinds. You know, Spring Heeled Jacks, phantom gassers. They take people anywhere, anytime.” Sam really had done some research.

It was then that you realised you would have been going in blind. If it wasn’t for the Winchesters showing up, you would have dived head first into this case and either left thinking it was nothing, or died because you knew very little on phantom attackers.

Maybe this hunting alone thing isn’t something I should be rushing in to...

Sam sighed, putting the journal away. “Look, Dean, I don’t know if this is our kind of gig either.”

Not needing his brother to say anymore, Dean nodded. “Yeah, you’re right, we should ask around more tomorrow.”

“Right.” Sam hesitated a moment before he turned to you. “I saw a motel about five miles back… you’re joining us right.”

“Whoa, whoa, easy.” Dean put his hand between you and his brother, waving until Sam turned to him. “We just got here.”

“You can stay, but… I wanna catch up with Y/N. And we should really get an early start,” Sam suggested as he rose from his seat.

“Catch up?” you asked, looking up at him.

“You’ve been gone for a month. I just wanna know how you’ve been,” he assured you with a kind smile.

You returned the smile and nodded. “Yeah. Okay. I think we can manage a simple chat.”

Looking between the two of you, Dean sighed and got up. “Fine, we’ll head over to the motel.” He shook his head at his brother. “You really know how to have fun, don’t you, Grandma?”

Sam grinned triumphantly, proud and happy that he managed to win the argument- if you could call it that.

Rolling his eyes, Dean look to you then. “I’ll meet you two outside. Gotta take a leak.” Turning to you, he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Wait for me.”

He was insecure, unsure, uncertain. You’d left without saying goodbye once… you got the feeling he would be worrying for a while.

“Sam and I will wait for you,” you assured him.

Pulling back, he gave you a short nod and then headed for the bathrooms.

“Come on.” Sam reached under the table and grabbed your two bags you’d stashed under there earlier. “I’ll show you where the Impala is.”

You followed him as he led the way, walking out of the bar. Now that you were with Sam, you felt less gazes lingering on you as you left. Before, when you’d been alone, the looks had been more intense, hungry. Now, they were mostly curious. You’d forgotten just how different things were when you were with an Alpha.

“So…” Sam looked over his shoulder at you as you both continued to walk through the parking lot.

“So?”

“How have you been?”

You cracked a knowing smile. “You mean other than all the hunting and stuff?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Are you… are you okay?”

“Sam.” You came to a stop, looking up at him. “I’m tired. I’m stressed. I’m lonely. I don’t know where I stand. I’m an Omega with no direction. I want to have freedom, but to be honest, as great as this month has been, I’m not going to deny that it was lonely. I missed you and Dean like crazy.” You weren’t going to tell him that you cried yourself to sleep most nights. “Just like how I miss John. Maybe even more. I’ve never been on my own like that before. It was scary. But after a while… things got a little better. I really did think me leaving was for the best.”

“It wasn’t.”

He wasn’t arguing or accusing you. Looking up at Sam, you could see that he was just trying to explain his side of the situation.

“We got back to that motel room and you were gone. Dean… Dean went out of his mind. He and Cassie had talked and he’d explained everything to her. He ended things with her. Clean cut. She won’t be calling again unless it’s an emergency. You literally slapped some sense into him.”

At the mention of the slap, you flinched and looked away.

“He doesn’t care about it, you know. It was a shock, but… Dean forgave you the second he saw the guilt on your face. You regretted doing it right away, and hated yourself for it. I knew you were gonna punish yourself… I just didn't realise you were going to punish us in the process.”

“I wasn’t punishing you. Either of you. I just… I was tired of you two fighting over me. I was tired of not knowing where I stood with you. I was tired of having to compete for Dean’s attention. I was tired. I still am tired.”

“Running away isn’t the answer.”

“It sure did feel like one at the time.”

He watched you carefully. “Would you do it again?”

“If I got to go back in time? Yes.” You gave a short nod. “But am I planning on leaving again now? No.”

It was the truth. It didn’t mean you wouldn’t change your mind in the future, but for now you were certain you were going to stick with the brothers. The fact you’d randomly bumped into each other kinda made you think this is where you had to be. Plus, freedom was nice, but you missed the brothers. You were gonna make sure you had more say in your own life, but you missed having the Alpha presence.

A noise had you both tense and turn towards a nearby car. It had sounded like something had been pushed over.

Placing your bags on the ground, Sam pulled out a torch and got to the ground to take a peek under the car. He jumped as a cat hissed at him.

You laughed. “You alright there, Sammy? Did the kitty scare you?”

“Ha ha ha.” Turning off his torch, he got himself back to his feet, rolling his eyes at you.

“Come on, scaredy cat. Show me where Baby is.” You grabbed one of your bags.

As Sam leaned down to grab the other someone jumped out from the side of the car. You opened your mouth to warn Sam, but before you could speak you felt something hard and heavy hit you in the head.

Falling to the ground with a heavy thump, you landed next to Sam as he was knocked out as well. You looked up at your grinning attackers, then everything went black.scaredy-cat

Bamby

120 notes · View notes

delimeful · 3 years

Text

in sickness and in health (2)

this fic was patron picked to be published by a 24 hour poll! hope you enjoy! :)

warnings: fear, fairly bad illness, murder mentions, crying, remus saying some remus things

The next morning, after a few measly hours of sleep, Virgil poked his head out of one of the upper boltholes in his human’s bedroom and found him still in the same position, the sheets damp with sweat around him.

Another check in a couple hours later found much the same.

And another.

And then night had fallen, and still his human hadn’t moved, looked perhaps even worse than before. Even more galling, nobody else had come over to check on him.

It was to be expected, he knew. He’d seen the human collapse and sleep a day or two away after one of his week-long at-home work sessions; it was only natural that his many friends assumed this was the same sort of scenario.

Except it wasn’t. And now his stupid human was too unconscious to even contact anyone. Virgil dragged his hands over his face, bemoaning the situation and humans and even the world in general.

He peeked down over the ledge, studying what he could see of the burns. Another application couldn’t hurt. At the very least, his parents hadn’t raised him to leave a job half-done.

His human would wake up soon, he told himself sternly as he made the trek over to the nightstand. He paused, and shook his head. There was no point in avoiding using names anymore. He was literally risking his life to go tend to the human’s wounds— he was much more than attached, at this point.

Patton would wake up soon, he told himself as he unscrewed the ointment tube’s cap. It almost sounded a little more believable like that.

Unfortunately, it ended up being truer than he would have liked.

He was halfway done with the right hand when the general unease he wore around like a second skin suddenly spiked into outright fear. He went still, straining all his senses.

There— it was the silence that was setting him off. The constant backdrop of low, raspy breathing had suddenly gone completely quiet.

As if someone was holding their breath.

Slowly, Virgil turned to confirm what his instincts were already telling him, and met the gaze of a pair of huge brown eyes.

Despite himself, he went frozen. Knowing how large humans were was one thing, but being seen by one? It had never happened to him before, and he felt utterly pinned under the stare.

(His sleeves were rolled up. Could the human see the markings on his body? Other borrowers recognizing Virgil as a part of that group was bad enough, but a human-- A human could do so much worse.)

Patton let out a little whoosh of air, as though deciding that he didn’t have to hold his breath to avoid disturbing him anymore. “Um, hi.”

His voice, even at an almost-whisper, was crackly and rough, and it made Virgil jerk slightly, his mind desperately trying to convince his locked up body to bolt already.

Patton’s hand twitched a little in response to the motion, and Virgil went stone-still again. He was standing right next to the curve of the hand, had unwittingly practically done everything but climb into the human’s palm himself. In this position, he had no doubt that in a race between him and Patton’s reflexes, he would lose.

But the human hadn’t grabbed yet. The longer it stayed that way, the better.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Patton mumbled apologetically. His eyes were a little glazed over; he probably thought he was dreaming. Good for Future Virgil, bad for Present Virgil. “You takin’ care of me?”

Virgil let the silence stretch, and then nodded a little when it was clear Patton was waiting for an answer. There was no point in denying it; he’d been caught red-handed. Ointment-handed. Whatever.

“Thanks,” Patton replied, face scrunching up into a weak grin. “I guess a little first aid is just what I needed.”

Not even a raging fever could hold back the puns, it seemed. Virgil narrowly avoided snorting, a return jab about Patton being a big pain on the tip of his tongue.

Abruptly, though, the hand was curling around him, sending his pulse racing as his route of escape was cut off.

Horrific ways this could end ran through his mind one after another; The human was nearly out of his head with fever, all he had to do was misjudge his strength even a little and Virgil would snap—

Everything went still again. Virgil struggled to slow his breathing, gaze darting back and forth like a cornered mouse. Patton’s hand had curled around him, pressing just slightly on his arms without actually trying to lift him. He was just sort of... holding him.

“Y’okay?” Patton murmured, and his thumb (thankfully ointment-free) gently patted his shoulder. “It’s justa’ thank you hug.”

On cue, his almost-grip loosened, hand remaining half-cupped around him but open enough that he could easily step out. Testingly, he stepped forward once, twice, always watching Patton’s face like a hawk as he did.

Patton blinked slowly at him, apparently completely unfazed by Virgil performing the world’s slowest escape.

It wasn’t until he was nearly to the edge of the bed that Patton stirred, shuffling his shoulder a bit and turning his head a bit farther to keep watching him.

“Leavin’?” he asked, looking almost a little worried. Virgil couldn’t imagine why; if anyone had the right to be worried here, it was him.

Still, he was finally close enough to his hook that he could definitely make it if Patton even twitched wrong toward him, so he took a deep breath and nodded, waiting to see how the human would react.

“‘Kay, be safe,” Patton offered, his cheek smushed against his pillow. His eyes were already half-lidded, apparently already preparing to head back to sleep now that there weren’t any convenient borrowers around to scare the life out of.

It couldn’t be that easy. Could it?

Virgil kept checking over his shoulder as he grabbed his rope, but Patton’s attention had already strayed, and as he descended, the human’s breathing returned to that familiar, sleep-slow cadence.

He only barely managed to make it back into the walls before a hysterical laugh bubbled up from his chest. He slid down to a sitting position, trying to get his breathing under control. He’d been seen, he’d have to pack up everything he’d made and leave to face the treacherous elements again--

… Except. Except Patton hadn’t grabbed him. That was no promise of safety, but… really, he had barely seemed fazed at all by the presence of a tiny person in his space. Unnaturally so, for a human. Virgil knew well how a ravaging sickness could make anyone less than keen, leave their memory foggy. There was every possibility that that was the case here.

And if it was… Virgil didn’t have to move. He could observe Patton once he got better, stay discreet and make sure that his existence was dismissed as nothing more than a fever dream.

It was a risk, but… wasn’t every choice a borrower made risky?

(He was tired of leaving homes behind.)

---

There was one problem with his plan: it required Patton to get better.

Watching the human now, it seemed that he was intent on doing anything but that. Virgil scowled down at the bed from his check-in shelf, trying to shove down the worry at the sight of Patton twisting and turning in the sheets, iller than ever.

It seemed his moment of brief lucidity (if it could be called that) hadn’t lasted. He’d spent over a day in bed, only getting worse.

Virgil was getting well and truly worried.

(He didn’t know how long it took humans to recover, but he had an extensive frame of reference for how long it took humans to succumb to sickness.)

He’d taken to pacing indecisively back and forth at his latest check in, thousands of potential options and their terrible outcomes running through his head, when a low noise caught his ear.

Patton was crying, little hitching sobs that came out rough and crackly, blinking harshly as he stared up at the ceiling.

Virgil couldn’t tell why; it could’ve been a nightmare, physical pain, or just the helplessness of being so terribly sick. He gripped the edge of the shelf he was hiding on, biting his lip harshly.

If he called out, would it help? Would Patton listen? Would he remember, later?

Before he could try, the creak of bedsprings drew his eyes back to the human, who was twisting onto his side, reaching for the bedside table. Where his phone was.

“Yes,” Virgil whispered, watching the human strain to reach just a little further. “Come on, come on…”

Patton’s hand grabbed at the edge of the phone, so close to being able to finally get the help he needed— and it fell right through his fingers, his grip too weak to hang onto it.

It was as though their spirits plummeted right along with the phone, landing with a muffled thud on the bedroom floor. Patton let out another half-sigh, half-sob, and settled back onto the bed, exhausted from even that small expenditure of energy. Virgil’s lip began to bleed from how hard he was biting it.

Within moments, the room was quiet again, Patton returning to that hazy unconsciousness.

By then, Virgil had already made his choice.

(It was almost poetic. What better way to spit in the face of his upbringing than to save a human?)

He made his way through the walls in record time, finally able to use the pent up energy he’d accumulated from all that time helplessly watching.

Once he got to the floor, he paused for only a moment to listen to the rhythmic breathing above before darting over to the phone, lying in the shadow of the bed. He flipped it over and pressed the button, the screen lighting up with a picture of a cat.

“Isn’t he allergic?” Virgil muttered, and then shook his head, swiping through to the home screen. Luckily, Patton didn’t seem to have any locks, though Virgil hated to imagine how that trust could be abused.

He recognized the old phone shape on one of the icons easily enough, and squinted at the contact list for a long moment before finding the one with a tiny picture of someone he recognized: Patton’s loud friend, the one who came over for movie nights when they were both free (a rare occurrence).

“Roman”’s number was pressed immediately, and it was only as the phone began to ring that Virgil realized he had not thought this plan through.

The phone rang once, twice, and just as he thought it would ring out and he’d be able to think of a plan-- “Patton! Perfect timing!”

He jerked away from the tinny voice, casting a glance up at the bed where Patton laid. If this was enough to rouse him, even just enough to talk, this situation would resolve itself.

“...Patton? Hellooo?”

The human above didn’t even twitch at his friend’s call.

“Ooh, did you get a booty call from Daddy Dearest?” another voice asked, gleeful and a little bit fainter than the first.

“What-- it’s buttdial, I know you know how that sounds, Remus!” There was the sound of tussling for a moment, and then Roman’s voice piped back up, sounding strained. “Okay, Pat, call back later, I guess? Remus, lemme go--”

The line went dead.

Virgil smacked the screen harshly, cursing the fact that Patton’s friends were apparently prone to nonsense and not nearly as concerned as they should be about the situation, as little as they knew about it. He glanced up at his Human again, brow furrowed.

No speaking, no texts, no physical evidence. How could he get their attention without giving himself away?

He leaned forward and pressed the call button again.

“Uh… Patton?” There was a long pause, and then a nervous laugh. “Jeez, what is he up to?”

Virgil hung up, and called again.

“What the heckity heck--”

Virgil hung up, and called again.

“Patton, are you there?”

“Maybe there’s a serial killer in his house and he can’t pipe up or they’ll get to his windpipes!” the second voice, presumably “Remus”, chimed in.

“Shut up, that’s not it!” There was an uncertain pause. “Patton, that’s not it, right? C’mon, Padre, you’re freaking me out worse than the Outage Incident of ‘09.”

Virgil hung up, and called again, ignoring the phone’s buzzing as worried texts began to filter in.

“Something’s wrong. If his phone was accidentally calling me from his pocket, he’d be replying to my texts.”

Yes! Virgil held his breath, letting the thick silence hang in the air.

“Patton, are you there? Do you need help? Give me some sort of signal,” Roman pleaded, and Virgil leaned back, desperately searching his memory for a sign that would mean something to Roman.

There was something he’d overheard, lurking in nearby wall corridors during one of their sleepovers. Roman had been waxing poetic about effective storytelling.

“That’s the thing about repetition,” he’d said. “Like that saying! Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, but three times? That’s a pattern. And patterns have meaning!”

Virgil had rolled his eyes at the time. The advice didn’t hold true for borrowers, who avoided patterns like the plague. One slip up was all it took to have to uproot his whole life or worse, after all.

Now, though, he latched onto the memory with both hands.

Two witnesses to this were two too many, but so long as they couldn’t prove anything… he pulled out his hook and carefully tapped the side of the phone, producing three distinct, dull clinks.

There was a clutter of alarmed arguing on the other end, and Virgil hurriedly smacked the red ‘end call’ button once more, his nerves frayed.

After a moment, more texts popped up.

Roman!!! ❤️👑✨: patton, i know you wouldnt pull a prank like this

Roman!!! ❤️👑✨: ur spare key is still under the kitten statue, right?

Roman!!! ❤️👑✨: im coming over

Virgil sank back on his heels, letting out a long sigh of relief. Thank goodness he knew how to read.

After another moment of shaky decompression, he hurried back into the walls, returning to his former vantage point on the shelf.

The phone lit up a few more times, the cheery ringtone of an attempted call still not quite enough to bring Patton back to awareness. Virgil resisted the urge to go climb up on a windowsill, knowing that it was far too risky, and he wouldn’t be able to recognize any human vehicles anyhow.

Finally, finally, there was the sound of a key rattling in the front door’s lock. Virgil ducked back behind a novelty bobblehead as voices spilled into the house, growing more alarmed once they reached the kitchen. Virgil remembered belatedly that the mess from Patton’s disastrous attempt to make cookies was still there.

“Patton!” Roman appeared at the doorway, eyes fixed on the bedridden form of his friend. He rushed over, pressing a wrist to his forehead. “You’re burning up…”

With some careful maneuvering, he managed to lift Patton from the bed in a bridal carry, calling for Remus to get the door.

And then they were gone, off to the human version of a sickbay.

Virgil sprawled back, letting all the tension leave him, his heart still racing from his part in it all.

Now, all he had to do was wait.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #borrowers #ts virgil #ts patton #ts roman #ts remus #g/t #isaih #in sickness and in health #my writing #writing #bthb #am i missing tags?

237 notes · View notes

popi-the-fatui · 4 years

Text

CHILDE BF HCs

(that no one asked for but here they are anyways)

A/N: this man needs some luv. Long post, there is a whole iceberg under the “read more”. Also, I tried to keep a Gender Neutral reader so pls DM me if there are any mistakes!!

TW: DESCRIPTION OF AN ANXIETY ATTACK, SPOILERS FOR THE REX LAPIS QUEST AND CHILDE’S PAST, a little bit of angst

🐋 Let’s bust some myths first: contrary to popular belief, Childe has no experience at relationships or intimacy at all. Non. Cero. The Venn diagram of romantic/intimate stuff and things Childe has done is a void. But it’s not that he doesn’t want to, it’s just that he hasn’t had the time to experience any of these things because he is a busy man: between fighting, training and being a Harbinger, there is not a minute left for him to indulge in other things.

🐋 The problem with this is that Tartaglia is a people’s person. He WANTS to be able to have someone that he can do these things with. At the end of the day, when he comes home tired after a mission, all he wants is someone to be waiting for him with cuddles, hugs, kisses, reassurance, caresses, or just a simple “how did your day go?” Because of this, he has a lot of pent-up love that he has not been able to give.

🐋 In that note, he is also incredibly touch-starved: not only does he want someone to give that love to, but Childe also craves to receive it. When was the last time he was touched by someone in a context that was not a fight? He loves fighting, obviously: he has trained for a big part of his life to be able to defeat everything and everyone. But he is also just a human, and there are limits to how long a person can go without a loving touch.

🐋 So when he finally falls victim to the first signs of infatuation, this poor whale man will have an internal battle: do I reach for them? Would they be better off if they never meet me? Will they accept me? Has my reputation already ruined this for me before it even began? How do I approach them? Do I look presentable? Am I going to scare them away? Childe will be torn between wanting to protect you from himself (as the Fatui business is not an easy pill to swallow for everyone) and protect himself from you (his heart would not handle rejection/disgust very well), and wanting to KISS YOU AND HUG YOU AND KNOW MORE ABOUT YOU BECAUSE ARGH WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO ADORABLE.

🐋 So he finally decides to compromise between these two stances, and let YOU decide whether you want him as a friend, a lover or a stranger. He starts greeting you whenever he sees you in the streets, subtly asking if you would like him to join you in your commissions, inviting you for lunch/dinner after a mission so you can recharge your energy, asking if you want to go and share drinks with him and Zhongli. You know, friendly stuff friends do. And he doesn’t even try to hide the happy smile that escapes him whenever you say yes to him: when it comes to you, there is nothing he needs to hide. Well, except for that one thing.

🐋 He knows that you know he is somehow associated with the Fatui, if his constant trips to the Northland Bank aren’t enough to tell. Usually, Childe dislikes going around things as he much rather hit straight to the point (being the point a fight, a deal or just a simple conversation). But he has grown so addicted to the sensations you make him feel that he can’t help but to try to postpone that tiny little detail about himself for later. He has never had anyone who genuinely wants to spend time with him and that can keep up with him. Childe knows he can be quite intense and that rumors about him aren’t really rumors but WARNINGS, and to finally have someone, even if you’re just friends, that is actively trying to get to know the real him means so much, and he doesn’t want to let that go as selfish as he knows it is because there’s a chance you could get hurt (emotionally and physically).

🐋 Unfortunately for him, everything that goes up must go down, and that fateful day comes when his plans to take Rex Lapis’ Gnosis blows back to him. After that brief, tense conversation with La Signora and Zhongli, Childe’s ego can’t be any lower: it’s not often that he loses, and much less often that he loses while feeling like a fool. He wants to scream, fight, punch, kick. Anything to take out the impotence and anger he is feeling right now.

🐋 You found him in this state while you were looking for him to see if he was alright because a WHOLE ASS PALACE JUST FELL FROM THE SKY and you’re very concerned for him as you haven’t had any news directly from him and all you know is that apparently Childe was the cause of it?

🐋 As soon as he sees you, his blood-lust disappears and he no longer wants to fight something: he wants to cry from shame. Shame at being found in this state. Shame at failing. Shame at what you would think of him now that the cat’s out of the bag because from the look in your face is EVIDENT that now you know how far his relationship with the Fatui goes.

🐋 He falls to the ground, tears finally coming out and he is crying ugly sobs while hiccuping nonsense about how he is a weak, pathetic, disgusting failure and it’s not fair it’s not FAIR IT’S NOT FAIR IT’S NOT-

🐋 “Look at me” you softly call to him, but he is panicking and hyperventilating and not responding to anything that’s outside of his head, so you decide to sit on your knees in front of him, gently cupping his face with your hands, caressing his tears away with your thumbs.

🐋 “Childe, look at me. Please?” You try again, carefulness in your tone as to not startle him. And when he finally reacts and looks up, you don’t see Tartaglia the 11th Harbinger, nor Childe the fatui flirt. All you see is a broken man that carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, exhausted from constantly fighting against everything the world has thrown at him, and your heart aches for him and wonders how long this man has suffered alone, how long has he suffered in silence.

🐋 “It’s okay, Childe. You’re okay. Can you breathe for me?” You position yourself behind him and put your hands on his shoulders, rubbing circles with your fingers to further calm him. “Breath with me, yeah just like that. Now hold it for a bit and then release it. Keep going, I’ll do it with you. I’m here”

🐋 Childe finds himself finding it easier to breathe with each inhale and exhale, and when he is finally going down from his high, catharsis hits him HARD. Is this what he has been missing all of his life? Is releasing all that pent-up frustration supposed to feel this good? And he feels a little selfish, because he knows he doesn’t deserve your comfort after the stunt he pulled, but Childe can’t help but become putty under your tender touches and your soft words, and he wishes for a different context, for a different past in which he never fell into the abyss, never joined the Fatui, never felt that the only way to survive was to fight. Instead, he wishes for a past in which he is traveling because he wants to, and he meets you, and he courts you and makes your cheeks heat up at something he said. And you are not touching him because he had a panic crisis that he himself caused. No, he imagines the both of you after a dinner date in Liyue. The sky is dark and the stars are shining but the streets are still full of people laughing and talking and the light from the lamps are reflecting beautifully in your hair. You are walking near the harbor, and you are holding his hand and he is giving you a kiss on your forehead because he can’t help himself. In another life, he would have found you and loved you the way you deserve and the way he needs.

🐋 But he knows that now is too late, and all he has left is a mind full of regret because he did, in fact, hurt you. How could you trust him after this? How could you WANT him after this? So imagine his surprise when the first thing that comes out of your mouth is a soft “Are you ok now, Childe?”

🐋 “I- how- what?” He mutters in disbelief. Why are YOU asking HIM that? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

🐋 “You had me very worried back there. I thought you would stop breathing at any moment. You are not hurt, are you?”

🐋 And he laughs. A high-pitched, almost maniac laugh. “You know I was the cause of all of…” he says, moving his arms to signal, well, everywhere “...this, right? I believe you now must know what my real business in Liyue was, and that I’m not just some random Fatui officer”

🐋 “Well… I kind of suspected it? How many ‘random Fatui officers’ are carrying a Vision, huge amounts of Mora and have so many ‘meetings’ at the Northland Bank with the Qixing themselves? I mean, I didn’t know you were a Harbinger, but I did know that you were a higher up in the organization. I’m not dumb, you know?” you answer light-heartedly.

🐋 “Then why would you keep hanging out with me? If you knew all of that, then you for sure must have known that people tend to keep me in a ‘do not trust’ list. People are wary around me, and they should! If you knew of the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve DONE. The reputation surrounding the Fatui, especially the Harbingers, wasn’t built on nothing, you know?”

🐋 “Don’t get me wrong. I do have somewhat of an idea of the things you do for a living. And let me be clear: I certainly do not condone it. And to be honest, I know that things between us would be easier if you weren’t a Fatui and I actually wish you weren’t one” you can feel how his whole body deflated at that, and even if you are sitting behind him, you just know he has a pout on his face, so you resolve for hugging him from behind and rest the side of your face between his shoulder blades, and continue.

🐋 “But in the past weeks, I also had the opportunity to get to know you. Not Fatui you. But human you. I know that you have a family that you love very much and you do everything in your power to protect them. I know that you haven’t had it easy, and that some scars you have still hurt. I know that you absolutely can’t eat with chopsticks, but your pride refuses to give up and you try anyway. I know that you’re a passionate man that holds his dearest people close to his heart. I know that you hate when I’m sad so you’re willing to make a fool of yourself if that means I’ll end up laughing. I know how you wait outside of my building until my window lights up after you get me home so you are sure nothing happened to me. I know by the way you sometimes disassociate from the world around you that you are thinking of home and returning to your family” as you speak, you feel something wet falling on your upper arms, and realize that Childe is silently crying. You have half a mind to stop, but you also know that he needs to hear this, so you tighten your hug a little in reassurance.

🐋 “I also know that whenever I see you with a new wound, I can’t help but worry for you and my first instinct is to check if you are okay. I’m now familiar with the way my heart skips a beat whenever I get to see one of your genuine smiles, especially when the reason behind them is that you get to spend some time with me. I know my eyes soften when I see you talking about something you’re passionate about. The truth is, I care for you, Childe. I really do, Fatui or not. Harbinger or not. And yes, while I would rather you not be one, I still can’t help but long for your company because you make me happy. Because I love you. So don’t underestimate me. I’m strong and so are my feelings. You being a Fatui is not gonna change that”. After this, you two sit in silence for a few minutes, but it’s not an awkward one despite your confession. You know he is gathering his thoughts so you move one of your arms that is wrapped around Childe’s torso to card your fingers through his hair, mindful of the knots that had appeared after the battle. If he doesn’t believe your words, then you sure hope he trusts your actions.

🐋 Childe is the one who breaks the silence when he asks “How could you possibly love someone like me?”. If you weren’t sitting that close to him, you wouldn’t have heard it. He says this so softly, so gently, almost as if he was trying to convince himself and not you.

🐋 “Silly boy” you laugh warmly. “Did you hear anything I just said?” You ruffle his hair, and finally, FINALLY, you can hear him giggle a little. “You don’t get to decide who I love. That’s my choice, and I choose to love you”

🐋 No kisses were shared that day. No grand, magnificent romantic gestures were made. Only the silent promise of two young lovers to love and cherish each other as they were. And maybe, just maybe, you could work things out, together, to build yourselves a brighter future.

🐋 So after all has been said and done: congrats! You are now the proud s/o of Teyvat’s biggest simp.

🐋 Childe is your number one fan. Everything you do is carefully recorded in his mind for later use. He has to go on a mission away from you? Be prepared to be pampered and being taken on several dates the previous week so this clingy man has something to hold on to.

🐋 Also: he is shameless. He will not be afraid of making out with you in plain daylight on a busy street. But fear not! If you happen to not be a fan of PDA, he will try to be low-profile. You are, afterall, a person he treasures and can’t live without, so your comfort comes before his needs. Now, I say “try” because he will still demand to hold your hand and give you the random kiss on your cheek.

🐋 HUGS. FROM. BEHIND. Watch him giving you hugs like Oprah. You are buying something? Cooking? Chilling? Expect to feel a pair of long limbs wrapping from behind you in a tight hug like a koala. It’s his hourly vibe check.

🐋 Very jealous and protective of you. He is very afraid that one day you’ll realize there are plenty of people better than him and you’ll leave him, so please remind this simp that he is more than enough for you.

🐋 He also has nightmares from the time he spent in the abyss and will take sometime for him to realize that he is no longer there, so give him a few minutes for him to come to his senses and then please for the love of the Tsaritsa cuddle the life out of him. Also on this note, I have the headcanon that he prefers being the little spoon. That, or facing each other and he rests his face in the crook of your neck while leaving little pecks there.

🐋 Also you discover, to your surprise and as stated at the beginning , that this man has absolutely no idea how to do relationships. To compensate for this and to give you only the best of the best (as you deserve), he spends time in his travels to read romantic novels to have an idea of what to do, so don’t be surprised if he says or does something corny or cringey.

🐋 The most chaotic “meet the family” you’ll ever have. As soon as he takes you to Snezhnaya, you will have all of his siblings running and tackling you into a bear hug (he sends A LOT of letters to his family about you and if you read them you would not be sure if he is talking about you or a deity).

🐋 He also tries to keep you out of anything regarding the Fatui. It’s a relief that you finally know about how deep his person runs in the organization, but he also wants to spare you from the details of what he does unless something is really bothering him.

🐋 All in all, this golden retriever is your biggest hype man and the most loyal boyfriend. You will never get bored with Childe, as everyday is an adventure with him and he will make sure you to make you as happy and loved as you make him feel.

#childe #childe x reader #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #mine #tw axiety #tw anxiety attack #genshin spoilers #genshin impact spoilers

506 notes · View notes

orionwhispers · 4 years

Text

Bravado // Tommy Shelby Imagine

(A/N - its been a long ass time and i wanted to ease myself back into writing but this ended up being long and also super super angsty. sorry that this illness imagine came during covid idk whats going on with my imagination lol. love you guys SO much thank you for always being there. reblogs, comments and likes mean everything to me.)

trigger warnings - LOTS of angst. fluff. implied smut. my hc that tommy has a fear of illness, bad descriptions of hospitals.

He knew something wasn’t right the minute his car pulled into the driveway and you weren’t waiting for him under the great concrete arch, with that smile on your face that made his knees buckle and heart race like he was a love struck teenager.

You were always there as soon as he came home. Barefoot in a broderie dress in the summer with tousled hair and baby pink toenails. Wrapped in a hand knit blanket with fire flushed cheeks and woollen socks in the winter - even running across the gravel and into his arms in the middle of a storm, the ice cold rain whipping across both of your faces as you kissed under the light of the moon.

No matter how shit his day or week or month was, no matter what stained his hands or darkened his heart, no matter what lay heavy and hard deep in his gut, seeing you made everything vanish in the night air like wisps of smoke. You made everything worth it.

He refused to give into fear, he wasn’t that kind of man, so he swallowed all of the nagging thoughts and apprehensions as he came up to the dark foggy windows and the iron cast door. It felt strange turning his key in the lock without the weight of you in his arms or the sticky peach kisses you left down his jaw and neck, the smell of the vanilla in your hair and lavender on your skin.

The second thing that sent a jolt of white hot electricity down his spine was Mary, watching him anxiously and wringing her hands in the hallway. Usually, she was calm and collected, taking his jacket and leather travel bag with her signature placid smile and gentle fingers. Usually she would return to the kitchen and finish up whatever she was making - a hearty roast lamb with rosemary and garlic and glazed potatoes or a pheasant pie with honeyed carrots, always followed by a three layer chocolate ganache cake that was so thick and rich you practically had to saw through the sponge. She would always have dinner piping hot and dripping with gravy by the time the two of you returned downstairs, no matter how many hours it took for you to get... reacquainted.

Now she looked sheepish and pale, her skin almost translucent under the syrupy yellow lights. There was something about the way she stood, as still as a wraith, that made his blood run cold.

“Mary. Where is she?”

“Mr Shelby, I - ” Her voice was strained and hesitant, like a slowly fraying rope.

“Where is my wife?”

She moved forward, creases forming around her eyes. “We tried ringing you in Liverpool but the hotel said that you had already left, so we...”

“You rang me? Why? What’s happened?” He couldn’t hold back the desperation in his voice, and it lingered and festered around them both like a poisonous gas.

“Mrs Shelby came down with something a few days ago, we thought that it was just a common cold but unfortunately she seems to be getting worse.”

He tore upstairs before he could even think, his shoes leaving perfect muddy footprints on the cream carpet. He almost slipped at the top, and he lurched forward, his hands reaching out and holding onto the portrait hanging above the stairs for stability.

It was the oil of the two of you. A soft, personal picture that revealed more than he ever possibly could. The love in your gazes, the hint of a soft, drunk smile on the dangerous gangsters face as you leaned into him, melting into him like butter, him holding onto you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. It was his favourite photo, one that always washed a sense of calmness over him, a reminder of the woman that he loved and the way he felt around you. But now he felt as if was riding out a terrible storm.

He lived his life with no fear, he was capable and practical and used to the sound of bullets and the copper sweet smell of blood. There was really only one thing, one terrible thing that he couldn’t control, and that was what drove him crazy.

Sickness.

It gnawed at his insides like a rabid dog, clawed under his skin and settled behind his ribs. Losing someone he loved was like ripping out a piece of his heart straight from his chest, and he knew better than anyone what it was like to lose somebody to a violent, quick death - the pull of a trigger or the smack of a fist. At least in those moments he could lock them away in his mind, he could leap in front of a bullet or crack the neck of any man who dared to get too close to you, but there was almost nothing he could do to stop sickness, and the devastation it caused.

When you first met him it had been a surprise, almost amusing, that this powerful God of a man had these small little quirks. His house was always sparkling clean and smelling of Lysol, his fruit bowls were filled with citrus fruits and round, plump blueberries. He always made sure you were wrapped up warm in the winter, always placing his coat around your shoulders and bringing an extra pair of gloves in case you forgot yours. It was adorable, the way he took care of you,

It wasn’t till a little bit later when you learnt of those he had lost. His mother and his childhood sweetheart taken away from him much too soon. It broke your heart when he told you late one night of the sallow tint of their skin and the way he could almost see them vanishing from earth, the way that illness had moulded and changed those he loved the most.

You understood.

Your best friends older sister had died of tuberculosis when you were young. The elderly woman across the street from your first flat had passed away from a bout of horrendous smallpox. Your brother lost his first child to pneumonia. Times were changing but the fear of disease was ever present. Medicine was improving and so was knowledge, but still there remained a huge, dark cloud of what could happen, one that always hung around your husbands head.

——————————————-

All Tommy could think was the worst as he ran through the landing. His heart was in his ears and his bones felt loose, like the sweet liquorice the two of you would share at the pictures. He came to a stop by the bedroom door, tentatively pressing his palm onto the wood and ever so slightly pushing it open, listening to the gentle creak it made.

The room was warm. The lace curtains were pulled shut, and your favourite lavender candles were flickering on your vanity, casting syrupy shadows against the wall. He exhaled loudly as he saw you, bundled up under a mountain of satin sheets and hand crocheted blankets, your hair splayed across the pillows.

He moved to your bedside, pretending not to notice the large, untouched jug of water and the tissue box next to you, hoping and silently praying that you weren’t sick - just asleep and waiting for him, ready to wrap your arms around his neck.

You were silent, your lips parting every so often as you breathed, your chest rising and falling. He reached out gently, as though he was picking up shards of glass, and brushed his fingers against your cheek. Your forehead was beading with sweat, your cheeks flushed, and yet your skin was ice cold to the touch. He recoiled quickly, his heart dropping like a weight into his gut, and he inhaled a shaky, deep breath.

He saw something curled up beside your hands, a fluffy white cloud with sparkling emerald green eyes trained on him. Despite everything, he smiled. He thought of your birthday - of strawberry cheesecake and champagne, and surprising you with a ribbon wrapped little kitten as you woke up. He thought of that day often. How you smiled and leapt onto him with tears in your eyes, his whole world blissfully quiet as he spent the day in bed with you and your new best friend.

He would have preferred a big dog, one with sharp teeth and a menacing gaze to ward of visitors whilst he was away. But you were drawn to the tiny, malnourished runt of the litter who was scared of his own shadow. A kitten no bigger than the size of his clenched fist. A little white hairball who only ate and drank from fine pink saucers. A cat that had a very frustrating habit of crawling in the bedroom right as Tommy’s hand was up your skirt and his lips on the sweet spot of your neck, the tiny thing mewling and crying until you picked him up and nuzzled him into your chest.

He was a horse lover through and through, and never saw himself having time for any other pets. But in the summer when you saw the litter from one of John’s barn cats and fell in love with the sweet baby who mewled and cried and crawled right into your lap - he knew that he would give you anything and everything you wanted.

Including a cat who refused to accept that Tommy was the man of the house.

“Hello, boy.” He said, leaning over to scratch Comet under the chin, using a voice he only reserved for the two of you. “Have you been looking after my girl whilst I’ve been gone?”The cat meowed loudly in reply, pressing his head into Tommy’s palm but not moving from his spot beside you.

Tommy suddenly felt you shift under him and his heart lurched into his throat. He turned to face you, cupping the side of your clammy face as your eyelids fluttered open, blinking under the candlelight. A rush of red hot heat built up in his belly as you registered him, that angelic smile growing on your face, your tired eyes glimmering with recognition of the man you loved.

“Tommy?”

“Hi, Princess.”

You smiled sadly. “You’ve been gone for weeks - I missed you.”

He felt his brows crease as he rubbed along your jawline softly, trying to stop you from falling back asleep. He felt panic in his throat as sour as vomit, and he tried to bite back the nagging feeling that something was very wrong.

“No, sweetheart, I’m early. It’s only Thursday. I left on Monday.”

“Oh.” You said softly, your voice as gentle as the breeze rustling through the trees outside. “Well let me welcome you back properly - let me make you a lemon drizzle or a...” You lifted your head from the pillow and shuffled under your blanket, but he pressed his hands against your shoulder and held you down.

“No. You’re staying right here.”

“But - ”

“No.”

“Hmm. Don’t leave me, Tommy.”

“Never.” He said, his tone firm and cast like stone. He stroked your hair softly as your breathing slowed, but it didn’t nothing to quell the hard thump of his heart in his chest.

——————————-

Tommy left the room as quietly as he could after you had fallen asleep in his arms. He hadn’t wanted to move, not when you were pressed against his chest, looking ethereal but vacant, sweat beading under your brow and your face lacking colour. He wanted to stay with you, curled up by his side, his fingers laced through yours, the sound of your heart thumping in his ears.

But he was a man of action, and seeing you there - your lips cracked and dry, shudders passing through your body and goosebumps raised over your skin - he couldn’t fight the fiery urge to do everything in his power to make you feel alright again.

He found Mary waiting outside the door, chewing on the skin of her lips and swaying on the balls of her feet in anticipation. He grabbed her by the arm, harder than he meant to and something he would apologise for later, and pulled her downstairs, determined to let you rest whilst he got some answers. As soon as they reached the drawing room he spun her around, clenching his jaw and pointing a finger at the anxious maid.

“Where the fuck is the doctor? Why isn’t he here?”

“Mr Shelby.” She said, stepping forward calmly. “We phoned Doctor Moore and he came on Tuesday to see her.”

“Tuesday?” He seethed. “My wife has been ill since Tuesday and no one called me?”

Mary raised her hands in defeat, making it clear that the decision wasn’t hers to make. “He said it was nothing of concern . He gave her some antibiotics and told her to rest. She asked us herself not to call you, she knows how you.. worry.”

He ignored her sugar coated attempt to quell his anger, but if anything it made his vision darken. “When it’s my wife, It is always my concern.”

“Mr Shelby, we were just doing what we were told. As soon as we noticed she wasn’t getting better we phoned the surgery again, but Doctor Thomas was out for the day and said he didn’t think it was necessary to come round again, so we -”

“I don’t give a fuck. My wife is the number one priority. Ring every doctor in England if you have to, get somebody out here now to see my wife.”

He stormed away, anger pulsating through his veins, but he stopped suddenly, and threw out over his shoulder:

“And call Doctor Moore’s ’office. Tell him to expect a visit from the blinders soon.”

———————————————————

Once, when you were first dating, you found Tommy at the door to your flat at midnight, with scraped knuckles and blood dripping from his nose. You let him in, cleaned him up and sat with him in the bath until his skin was clear and his breathing was even. He knew that night, as you were pressed against his chest and his lips were pressed to your scalp that he was truly, madly and completely in love with you.

He remembered waking up the next morning, love drunk and blissful, and finding the bed beside him empty. He found you in the kitchen, wincing slightly and pressing a hot water bottle to your belly as you buttered a few pieces of toast. He rushed to your side with eyes as wide as saucers, concern lacing the features that were usually ice cold and hard as stone. You were completely baffled as he held you at arms length, his bright cerulean eyes trailing up and down your body for any signs of injury he might have missed. You were bewildered at the sight of the powerful man practically on his knees as he made sure you were alright, and you bit back a giggle as his warm palms spread over your abdomen.

“What is it? Whats wrong?”

“Tommy. Sweetheart.” You said softly, bringing his gaze level to yours. “It’s just - you know - that time of the month.”

He brushed off your embarrassment and ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead, sending a swarm of butterflies around the pain in your stomach.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, half ready to run down to the corner shop and buy any amount of painkillers or chocolate bars or your favourite lavender tea that you might need; not caring who saw the seemingly terrifying gang leader in the street with an armful of strawberry laces and salt water fudges.

You smiled like the summer sun and he melted, pulling you close as you whispered in the shell of his ear that you only needed him, and that was all you ever needed.

That was the first time you fully saw the extent of Tommy’s fear, but it definitely wasn’t the last. He knew he wanted you forever and always, and it took only six months of neck kisses and pillow talk, red hot jealousy and possessive hands across your skin and dancing in the rain and falling asleep under the pale yellow moon for him to put a ring on your finger. You were both consumed by your love, as though it was the only thing that mattered, it was insatiable and powerful - the wonderful mix of the devil and his sweet little angel.

And with that, came the good and the bad.

Like when you got food poisoning after Arthur cooked you a Sunday lunch to cheer you up whilst Tommy was gone. He came home to you retching over the toilet bowl with Mary holding back your hair, and swore that he would kill his brother with his own hands. Or when you slipped on ice and broke your arm while out with friends in London, and Tommy went ballistic and tried to ban you from ever leaving the house. It was just in his nature, how he always made sure you walked on the side furthest from the road, kept an arm slung around you whenever you were together, kept his eyes alert and vigilant no matter where you were - always looking out for his girl.

But he had never been like this.

———————————————————-

You were falling in and out of sleep. Waking up drowsy and heavy headed, squinting under bright lights, an ache in your skull and a burning in your throat. Every so often you felt a pinch in your upper arm, a squeeze on your palm, a kiss on your forehead - but you always drifted back into unconsciousness.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. The room was dark and you could hear the wind howling and whipping rain across the windows. You felt all too hot and all too cold at the same time, and the bed was damp with sweat. You struggled and tried to sit up, your head swaying and feeling as heavy as one of Tommy’s marble statues; as if you had been carved up and moulded. You could hear voices out in the hall, and unsteadily got to your feet, moving towards the noises.

“Pneumonia?” You heard through the thick wooden door, instantly recognising your husbands voice. “That’s impossible.”

“Sir...”

“Fucking. Impossible.” You knew his teeth were clenched.

The other man cleared his throat.“I know that it’s hard to hear, Mr Shelby, but your wife is very sick.”

“Just...” You felt your heart flutter and clench in your chest as the sound of his broken words, could practically feel his desperation and you wanted nothing more than to hold him. “Just tell me how to make her better.”

The second man spoke again, his voice softening and lowering, something you knew Tommy would hate. “Mr Shelby, the first round of antibiotics didn’t work and that means that it’s time for something stronger. Usually I would suggest the Birmingham hospital but I don’t think it’s equipped for...” He paused, trying to think over his words carefully. He wanted to convey the severity of the situation but also didn’t want to risk getting a bullet in his head from your very protective husband. “...This kind of reaction. I recommend we send her down to London for extra testing.”

“London? That’ll take two fucking hours. How the fuck can you recommend letting my wife travel that far? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I’m my opinion this is the wisest choice to make, but unfortunately that could mean your wife might get worse before she gets better.”

“Worse than she already is? That’s not an option.”

The man you assumed was the doctor was insistent, trying his best to portray the severity of the situation but failing as your hardheaded husband had already come to a decision.

“I’ll look after her here. She’s safest with me.”

Once Tommy had spoken that was the final result, and the doctor slinked away into the darkness and shook his head. You remained peering from behind the door, your tongue between your teeth and your heart hammering.

Tommy took one look at you and frowned, scooping you in his arms like a baby despite your protests. He ignored you, acting playfully and cheerful but you could feel his heated skin and the see flare of his nostrils. You wanted to help him but didn’t know how, and let him tuck you under the covers once again. He kissed your crown and stroked your hair and you wanted to speak but no words would leave your mouth.

“You stay there this time. You know I have no problem with tying you to the bed.”

You rolled your eyes as he left, and his clenched fists and tightened shoulders told you all you needed to know.

————————————————-

Comet watched from his spot beside you as Tommy wrestled with the fire. He had noticed you shivering despite your high temperature, and bundled you up in blankets whilst sparking matches beside the fireplace. There were raindrops across his shoulders, evidence that he had been outside and to the log store right at the end of the property - a job that had always been for the Groundskeeper. Your precious cat nudged the tips of your fingers as you sighed and watched your husband throw kindling onto the coal, a deep unease settling over your gut.

“Tommy, my love, I’m fine.” It wasn’t exactly true but you felt he needed to hear it. But you could practically see your words wash over him and evaporate like ocean spray.

He was shaking a metal tin in his palm as he worked, and you groaned and let your head hit the pillow as he pulled out two round chalky tablets. You winced as he placed them beside your glass, your mouth already tasting like the sour talc medicine you had come to loathe. He raised his eyebrows and shot you a look that told you he wasn’t far off plugging your nose with his fingers to force you to swallow, and you childishly stuck up two fingers as you took them.

Your stomach rumbled with nausea and you bit back the bile in your throat as you settled into the pillows. You watched your husband as he pulled off his crisp white shirt, revealing his taut tan stomach and the deep ink tattoos that you loved to trace with your fingertips and your lips. There was something about him standing there, with those damn cerulean eyes and hidden muscles, that boyish hair and slender fingers that you wanted desperately around your throat, that made a million tiny fireworks spark inside of you.

But instead you pushed him away from you despite your body wanting nothing but him wrapped all around you. “Don’t get too close. I might have something contagious. I can’t have you getting sick.”

He ignored you, smiling inwardly at the way you always put others before yourself. It was one of the million reasons he had fallen for you. You were sweating out a high fever and shivering in pain, and yet you always thought of him first. He pressed his lips to your temple and pulled you closer, knowing that skin to skin was a way to bring down a fever - even if it meant he had to restrain himself from tugging off your pretty little white nightgown and whatever frilly things you had on underneath.

“I’m not going anywhere. Fuck it if I catch anything.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m the one who will have to dote on you hand and foot, you big baby.” You teased, pressing yourself into him playfully, finally giving in.

He held you like a child, trying to hard to soften despite the way you felt underneath him. Everything on him was running a mile a minute, and he couldn’t help but want to try everything and everything to make you feel better. His hand was pressed against your temple to always try and measure your fever, his other palm across your chest to try and count your heart rate.

He could hear Mary treading across the landing carpet but he ignored his anxious maid, instead letting himself be completely consumed by the only thing that mattered - you.

This was something he had to do by himself. He was the only one who could care for you he reminded himself. And he let the words tumble over and over in his skull until they were all he could hear.

—————————————————————-

You had been asleep for a long time.

Every hour, after pacing the length of the hall and sanitising his hands and wiping the beads of sweat above your brow and above your breasts he woke you up and held a cool glass to your lips. You mumbled and moaned and pushed him away but he kept his fingers across your wrist - harsher than he ever had before - and kept you as close to him as possible.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cooked. Perhaps it was last valentines when the two of you had camped out under the stars, drinking icy white wine and sharing stolen, day drunk kisses. That night he had roasted a chicken over the fire and it had burnt to a crisp as the two of you rolled around the grass, his head buried in your neck as you giggled at the poultry going up in flames.

He was trying now though, easy, plain substantial meals that wouldn’t upset your stomach. Boiled egg and dippy soldiers. Crackers with smooth cheese. Bubbly water and ginger biscuits. Each time he went upstairs you pushed him away, your whole body shuddering and almost retching, and he felt like smashing the plates against the wall at his defeat.

It had been almost thirty six hours since he had come home and it had been almost as long since you had eaten something, and his heart thundered and shattered in his chest when he found you gasping and wheezing over the toilet bowl when you had taken a bite of toast to calm him. He rarely left you alone, only for a few minutes to put the still full dishes in the sink, to ring Lizzie and tell her that he wouldn’t be coming for reasons that he refused to disclose, to smoke a cigarette under the grey stone archway, his shaking hands and bitten fingernails barely visible through the sleepy rolling fog.

He had grabbed handfuls of papers and the brass ink pen you had got him for your anniversary and broke his own rule - bringing work into your bedroom. It had always been a sacred space. For candlelight and soft laughter, aching hands and heart shaped bruises, a sanctuary for him to breathe and to love and to be loved fully in return. But he was afraid if he didn’t have a distraction, he might just completely lose it, and he had to be there for you.

So he sat squinting in his glasses, the room almost completely dark save for a few candles because of the migraines that had started to spread throughout your skull, and let himself be drawn into the mess of squiggly lines and numbers that suddenly didn’t add up, with you still centre stage in his peripheral.

After about forty minutes of rereading the same sentence a dozen times to try and make some sense of it, he heard your voice, like a small crack spreading across a sheet of ice, coming from the bed.

“Tom?” You sounded so weak, he practically flipped your cream vanity as he got to his feet and darted towards you. “I don’t feel well.”

He lifted you as you reached your arms up at him like a child. He almost gasped at the sweat pouring from your body but didn’t want to scare you, and instead held your shaking, shivering body against his own. How could you be so hot, yet so cold at the same time? Your skin was prickled with goosebumps yet you were burning with a fever, and for the first time in a long time, he had no fucking idea what to do.

He left you propped up against the headboard and he entered the bathroom. He ran over to the claw foot tub you loved, twisting the faucet and trying to find the perfect medium between boiling hot and freezing cold. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, just try and soothe your raging fever, and he ignored the shelves of expensive bath oils and scented soaps that you coveted, instead opting for a handful of something meant to ease tension - praying to whoever was listening that it would help you somehow.

There was a brutal, awful moment as he lifted you from the bed, limp as a rag doll, where he imagined what would happen if your heart were to stop. He couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to miss the weight of you in his arms, the smell of your skin, the feeling of your lips against him, the shovels stopping and fading into nothing. It hit him square in the chest, as merciless as a bullet, and he had to lean against the doorframe to stop the two of you from plummeting to the ground.

He undressed himself first. Tugging his white shirt off, sliding off his slacks and his underwear, keeping you as close to his chest as he could. Then he pulled your nightgown up and over your head. He gathered your hair and secured it up with a claw clip so that it was away from your face, the heat radiating off your neck as fierce as the fire now burnt down to ash in the bedroom.

He lowered the two of you into the bath, sinking down beneath the eucalyptus smelling lukewarm water, letting it wash over you both. Your teeth were chattering and you were barely awake. He gathered handfuls of water, letting it drip over your shoulders and pulse points, grabbing a washcloth and running it over your raised skin, hating how you barely registered his touch. As he scrubbed over your collarbones and up to your face he saw your lips had turned to an awful, silvery blue, as vibrant as a fresh bruise. He hissed and tugged on the plug, now determined to get you wrapped up in a fresh towel and tucked back into bed.

You were soft and placid and he helped you out, lacking the usual fire that he adored. Your eyes were glassy and missing their vibrance, like the vanishing spark of a lighter - and he felt miles and miles of invisible distance between the two of you. You were unsteady on your feet and he used his body to prop you up as he warmed your arms with a fluffy white towel. You suddenly stopped, lifting your hand to your mouth as you started to cough - a horrible, dry, gasping cough.

He noticed it almost immediately. His eyes darting to the splatter of red against the white, a smudge of crimson that was as loud and commanding as a siren, a warning signal that something was definitely not right. A bead of scarlet that would linger long behind his closed eyelids.

He managed to get you back into bed, remaining calm as he stroked your hair and kissed your temple. He tucked you under the duvet and waited for your breathing to even before he ran downstairs, his heart thumping in his ears as he practically ripped the phone off of the wall.

“Pol? Fuck. I think - I think I need help.”

—————————————————————-

The room smelt like bleach and metal. Unfamiliar and clinical. There was something hard on your chest and covering your mouth, it tasted like wet pennies and was as heavy as a hand over your throat, but for the first time in days you could finally breathe. You tried to sit up, but there was a needle in your chest, a gown you didn’t recognise cut straight down the middle to accommodate it. You struggled and lifted the thin bedsheet above your shivering torso, trying to look around the cold room.

“Careful!”

It was Polly, dressed immaculately despite her surroundings. She reached out and placed a manicured hand across yours, and you smiled at the woman who had always been a calming influence when you had joined the circus of a family. There was concern in her eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner and lifted lashes but still swimming deep around her pupils. That made you frown, and you moved as much as you could to face her.

“What happened?”

She ran her tongue over her teeth, choosing her words. “You gave us quite a fright, love.”

“I did?” Your memories of the past few days were much like a fever dream, blurry and distorted snapshots were all you could really remember.

“Your pneumonia got worse. A lot worse.” She paused, looking over to the door and you followed her gaze. “They found fluid in your lungs.”

“So...” You started, gesturing to the needle in your abdomen and the breathing apparatus around your head.

She nodded. “Yes. You were in surgery. It was touch and go for a little bit.”

“Really?” You were bewildered. You couldn’t remember anything, let alone having major surgery. You looked her straight in the eye, asking her the questions that had been on the tip of your tongue since you had woken up. “Where is he? Where’s Tommy?”

“He’s outside.” She clicked her tongue, reaching deep into her purse and pulling out some hand cream, gently rubbing your dry hands like she was your mother. You leant into her touch despite all of your questions.

“What? Why?”

“I think he blames himself. God knows what goes on in that mans head. All I really know is he was bloody terrified.” She paused, looking over in the distance. “I’ve never seen him so scared, not even on his wedding day.” She smiled sadly, trying to lighten the mood, but it soon faded. “He didn’t leave your side the whole time you were asleep.”

Your heart thumped in your chest, a soft aching that you knew all too well. “I want to see him.”

“I know you do. But right now...” She stopped right as a handful of nurses entered, clad in long blue dresses with white aprons, hair tied back and smelling of strong soap and disinfectant. You lost Polly in the bustle as one spoke softly to you before tugging on the needle right beside your ribs, your eyes just catching hers as she left, a promise to see you soon on her lips.

It wasn’t her you saw next, but Tommy.

The nurses had cleaned you up with wet flannels and bowls of warm soapy water. Your hair had been braided and your face washed, and walked you arm in arm over to the bathroom so you could relieve yourself. A skittish doctor followed after, his eyes darting across you and his touch gentle as he changed your dressings and took your blood - obviously under strict instructions from your husband, and despite everything, you smiled.

You were sat listening to the clock tick. A romance novel you had been given was dangling dangerously close to the end of the bed, but you were too tired to focus on it. You heard the door squeal softly, and the sound of familiar footsteps across the tiling, each small thud sending shockwaves across your spine.

“Tommy.”

He looked tired. Exhausted rather, as though he had been awake all the hours that you had been asleep. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was sallow and bruised. His clean shaven face was dark with stubble and his hair was ruffled and unwashed. You longed to reach out to him and cradle him against you, but he stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost.

“Tommy?” You repeated, your voice almost a whisper, breaking his already shattered heart once again.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

You smiled softly, like spun sugar and sweet honey. No hospital bed or itchy gown could dull your infectious light. “Better now.”

He approached you almost cautiously. He settled down on the hard chair beside your bed and stroked a line down from your temple to your lips, his touch setting you alight like an electrical storm. There was a sadness in his eyes that reminded you of how he got when things were bad, and you willed him to come back to you. His touch was tentative and he inhaled shakily as you cupped his hand with yours, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of his palm.

“Don’t scare me like that. Ever.” He was stern, as though hoping his words would make it true. “I mean it.” He kept his gaze on your pretty face, trying his best not to stare at the harsh bruising on your delicate flesh or the sickly tone of your skin.

“Tommy I’m going to get sick, even you can’t stop that.” You teased gently.

“I can bloody well try.” His hands cradled your face, pulling you into him and kissing you fiercely, still mindful of the wires and tubes taped to your body. There was something about the tenderness and deep longing in the kiss that when mixed with your total exhaustion and love for your husband prompted tears to start falling from your eyes. You sniffled as he pulled away, concern dripping from his beautiful features, his powerful mind wanting to do everything and anything to stop your hurting.

“Hey, hey.” He said, running his calloused fingertips under your eyes and wiping your tears away. You leant into his touch and he kissed your temple, squeezing you even tighter into him. “You know I hate it when you cry.” He toyed with your hair and winked playfully. “Besides, all you need to focus on is getting better. You’re going to have to take care of me when we get home, this week has given me a fucking stroke.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing the inside of his wrist. “You’re a idiot, Thomas Shelby.” You blinked at the clock looming above you both, wanting to stay in your blissful bubble but also knowing that Aunt Pol would probably be in the vicinity harassing a poor nurse over your results. “You should go and find Polly, let her know that everything’s alright.”

He shook his head and nuzzled his nose across yours, an act so innocent that your heart dipped and swooped in your chest. “Later.” He said, breathless and consumed by you. Everything had been too much. Almost losing you had been harrowing, it had punctured him completely and he just needed to feel his girl safe and warm around him. He needed to know that you weren’t found anywhere.

“I just want to stay here for a while. Just me and you.”

You grinned. “Always.”

#tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders oneshot #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby oneshot

695 notes · View notes

goldentsum · 4 years

Text

— love, you can’t run away from me forever.

PAIRING: soulmate! suna rintarou x reader

GENRE: smut, soulmate au but make it dark

WORDCOUNT: 5.5k

SUMMARY: growing up in a world filled with soulmates was magical but with news about people going crazy and killing people for their “love” made suna repulsive to the idea of soulmates though when you came along, he finally understood why those people did it.

WARNING: dark content, smut, noncon, manipulative tendencies, cussing/cursing, creepy! and delulu! suna, mean! reader, masturbation (male), photos and audio recording taken w/o consent, kidnapping, oral sex (fem receiving), bdsm, sadistic! suna, dom! suna, violence, abuse, blood, suna is a dick, reader who tries to fight back

AUTHOR’S NOTE: another one cus why not! you guys seemed to liked my first dark fic so here’s another one! <3 might be bad idk prob cus of my writing HAHAHHA also, suna just being a creepy and psychopathic aquarius. DO NOT INTERACT/READ IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON’T LIKE THIS TYPE OF CONTENT.

REMINDER: this is not love and i do not condone this type of behavior. do not romanticize this, this is fiction and in no way am i telling people this is okay. if you don’t like content like this, please click away or block the tag tw.darkcontent

‘the world is fucked up,’ suna thought, looking at his phone as he saw all types of news about people killing and committing all types of felonies to prove that their love for their soulmates were real.

the stoic male grimaced at one news he came upon when he scrolled up, a young man killed his family and friends because “he doesn’t need anyone else beside his soulmate”. now that was fucked up. suna never thought he'd lose faith in humanity even more with each passing day. it was actually impressive with how fucking stupid and delusional people get when the topic of soulmates come up.

gold eyes narrowed at the inked skin of his wrist. “(l/n) (y/n)” or whoever that is better not mind never having a soulmate because there’s no way in hell suna’s going to be all lovey-dovey and accept the soulmate bullshit.

he thinks that soulmates are a scam. it was a hoax to make people do stupid shit and suna will not tolerate that type of bull. if he’s gonna end up with someone, it’ll be because he likes them not because of ‘fate’ or whatever decided it for him.

he will never conform to society and its standards.

“suna! what’s with the ugly face?” atsumu snickered, plopping down on the seat beside suna making the taller male groan.

“oh fuck off, atsumu. i’m not in the mood for your bullshit”

“when have you ever been in a mood for bullshit?”

suna raised a brow and hummed, “good point”

atsumu shook his head and turned to the counter where his brother was standing behind. “’samu! i want 3 tuna onigiris!”

osamu glared at his brother and scowled, “get it yourself, lazy ass”

“i’m paying you!” atsumu whined like the little brat he is but osamu ignored him and tended to the other customers in his shop. suna groaned at the noise, “for fuck’s sake, tsumu. shut up. your voice is so annoying”

atsumu glared at the man and punched his shoulder, making suna winced and scowled at his former teammate from highschool. the older miya twin huffed and ignored his words, continuing what he was about to say before suna insulted him, “anyway! what i was trying to say earlier was that people around us are finding their soulmates while i’m stuck with you bums! how is that fair?!”

suna groaned, annoyed, at the same old topic of soulmates. “soulmates are overrated. it’s a scam. you’re lucky you haven’t met yours yet if anything.”

the setter scoffed at suna’s old same line of bitterness towards the topic of soulmates, “what’s with you, anyway? what’s with the bitterness towards soulmates?”

“it’s bullshit, is all” suna replied easily, not bothered nor giving a shit. atsumu smirked and threw an arm over the male’s shoulder, “one day, you’ll meet your soulmate and everything’s gonna change.”

“did you just curse me or?”

“I don't know, did i?”

oh for fuck’s sake. atsumu really did cursed him. suna stared in awe, uncharacteristically so, at you while you glared at him. you clicked your tongue when his gaze was still as dazed and lovesick since you two have met.

“fuck off, rintarou! i told you i don’t want any soulmate bullshit!”

suna chuckled with a small blush on his cheeks, “i love it when you call me, rintarou--”

“because that’s your name, stupid! you know what, i’m not even gonna bother. and for the last time, stop following me!” you growled, stomping off to get away from your creep of a soulmate but the man didn’t mind your words. it was quite amusing to him to be honest.

you’re so cute and small and so angry at the world that it’s so endearing to him. with every glare you give him, it sends pleasant shivers down his spine. ah, so this is what it felt to be with your soulmate. it’s addicting. you two could rule the world together if you want to.

“love, you can’t run away from me forever. i’m your soulmate”

you groaned at the persistent male, “i don’t want you as a soulmate! why can’t you understand that?!”

suna stopped following you after your harsh words. you also stopped, your anger subsiding a bit when you realized what you said and all of a sudden, there was a pain in your heart. you cursed at the soulmate bond that was not letting you reject your fate. guilt resurfaced in your gut when you looked at suna who’s staring at the ground, eyes hidden under his bangs.

“r-rintarou?.. look i’m sorry, okay. but i don’t really want any soulmate business in my life-...” you tried to explain but quickly cut your words off when suna started chuckling.

scared and terrified at the creepy laugh and unexpected action, you stepped back and looked at him with wide eyes. suna then looked up at you and smirked, the dark glint in his eyes gave you the creeps, his breath heavy as he panted like a dirty pervert! his eyes were so filled with emotions. lust, obsession, and ‘love’ but you don’t even know if you can call it ‘love’...

“did you feel that? it shows... no matter what you do. we’re connected.”

oh fuck no. this psycho is not worth it. you grimaced at his words and turned back around swiftly, walking faster to get away from him.

“fate will always bring us together, (y/n). the quicker you accept that, the easier life gets” you heard him shouted after you and it only made you quicken your actions, heart beating rapidly at what just happened.

suna smirked at your figure as it grew smaller and smaller. he figured he’d let you go for now. it’s not like you can hide from him. you can try but the ink on your skin will always remind you where you belong and that’s with him.

the tall male looked at his phone, the screen showing a picture of you sleeping. he traced your features through the phone with a loving sigh and quickly stuffed it back to his pocket. he whistled a small tune under his breath on his way back home, his thoughts filled with you.

suna walked inside his apartment, shrugging his shoulders to loosen the tight muscles. he groaned in annoyance when his shoes got stuck on his foot but quickly shook it off. the moment he was in his bedroom, he removed his shirt and plopped down on the bed, opening his phone again.

in his phone, there was a whole album of you. sleeping, eating, at the gym, when you were at the library. suna also opened one of the files in his phone as sounds of you breathing when you were sleeping echoed in the room.

a small moan escaped the phone, suna’s eyes shining slyly at the sound. oh how he wants to hear it in person. he wants to hear every lovely sound you can make. he wants to know everything about you.

what type of weather do you like? do you like cereal at night like him? do you have a special place for cats in your heart like he does? do you hate heat like him? and do you like getting fucked so hard the only thing you can do is scream?

suna sighed at the last thought as rapid images of what you would look like popped in his head. would you look pouty? would you cry? would you be quiet and shy? or would you moan like a bitch in heat?

the familiar twitch in his sweats made suna antsy. a hand drifted to his pants to palm himself through the cloth.

suna massaged his hardening cock through his pants, letting out sighs as he did so. your soft breathing from the phone was making him harder. he imagined you beside him, sleeping. looking so innocent and safe from all the vile things of the world. safe with him.

your plump lips curled into a small pout as your brows furrows while you dream then waking up, needy for him. suna groaned and swiftly tugged his sweats and boxers off him. he spat on his hand, hissing when he started stroking his thick cock. drifting to the sensitive head of his cock, he massaged it with the slick spit as it ooze out pre-cum.

he quickly coated his digits with the precum and slicked his twitching cock with it for the smooth friction he was craving. he panted at the feeling when he tightened his grip on his dick, trying to imagine your tight wet pussy instead.

“s-shit, baby... feels so good’“ he slurred, closing his eyes to focus on the feeling of the tight grip, stroking himself to a slow rhythm. in his mind, he can see your pretty face.

he can imagine you on top of him, rolling your hips slowly to not overstimulate yourself with his large cock inside of you. suna licked his lips, a small smirk appearing on his face as he imagined the cute little noises you made when you tried to fit him in you.

his thick cock hitting so deeply inside you but oh how you like it, you slut. you’d look so gorgeous, moaning on top of him, hands on his chest whilst you ride him.

“r-rintarou” he can hear your lewd voice calling out, your breath getting heavier with each stroke of his cock, dragging in your tight wet walls. your big doe eyes filled with tears as you look down at him, trying to get some help from him to fuck you good already.

he cursed when he felt a familiar band trying to snap in his lower stomach, his hand getting faster. wet slapping sounds echoed in the room along with your soft breathing on his phone. his violent and aggressive movements were getting him closer to his release.

this is how he wants it to be. him fucking you so violently making you cry, hands gripping you tight that your pretty skin would bloom with violets and blue.

he can already see it, how your tongue will roll out your pretty lips whilst you get fucked so hard that all you can do is lay and scream for him, your soulmate. your other half. you belong to him.

“ha-ah-!” suna groaned deeply when his release hit him, thick warm cum hit his clenching abs as the spiraling pleasure made him shiver. his hand pumping his dick fast to ride his orgasm, his chest heaving deep pants. the male gulped down, trying to wet his dry throat as he slowly calmed down. lazy yellow eyes stared up in the white ceiling of his bed.

he needs you. he wants to feel you. he wants to be with you. now.

you sighed as you walked home to your apartment, it has been a week since your crazy soulmate tried to bother you in accepting him and it was making you jumpy. his eyes just showed so much when you last saw him that it made you paranoid with every movement that was happening around you.

you entered your room, exhaling a deep breath of relief as you felt the warm air of your safe home. it was nice to be in your apartment again. no one to bother you. safe from the crazy man that suddenly stopped messing with you.

after shrugging off your coat, you enter your kitchen to get a glass of water. all the overthinking about the mess that fate got you into was making your head hurt. as you greedily gulped down the water to soothe your dry throat, a movement from the dark living room made you choke on it.

“shit” you cursed and looked at the wet floor. you put the glass down and looked at the dark living room, trying to catch any movement. you then quietly went to the knives beside you and grabbed one, walking cautiously through the room. you flickered the lights on, ready to strike if something attacked you, but as the lights went on, you sighed in relief when you saw no one.

you let your hand drop beside you, rolling your eyes at yourself at the paranoia. you cursed the man that did this. now you were overthinking stuff and seeing shadows.

when you were about to turn around, a large hand covered your mouth and tightly gripped your wrist that held the knife, making it clunk to the floor as you screamed but the hand muffled it.

“stop fuckin moving already.. you’re gonna just tire yourself” the familiar voice made your body stiff, your blood went cold. crying against his hand when you felt his lips touch your ear, teeth grazing it.

“you’re so pretty” he cooed, his voice heavy and slow. tears pricked your eyes as you struggled against his hold but the tall man was obviously stronger than you being an athlete. you tried to stomp on his feet but the man nudged you forward with his weight as you two tumbled into the couch.

you can feel the vibration of his chuckle as his chest was against your back. you heard him sigh and a small grind on your ass was enough to make you feel disgusted and dirty.

“i apologize for this next action, (y/n)” suna muttered beside your eyes and he leaned back, quickly turning you around. before you could even scream, pain blossomed on your cheek. your vision turned blurry at the impact, dizzy.

this motherfucker just punched you. you faced him again and spat the blood on his face, your lip busted as well. “f-fuck you!”

suna growled at your actions but quickly smirked, wiping away the bloody spit on his eye while he held you down.

“a tough one~ i like that” he whispered and you could feel a hard nudge on your inner thigh making you grimace. this man was fucked up... he just got hard from punching you and you fighting back-

suna smirking down at you was the last thing you remember then everything went dark.

the room was cold. and your limbs ached with each movement you did. you opened your eyes and panic hit you when you couldn’t see anything. you tried to call out but there was a gag on your mouth.

you cried through the gag, you cursed everything. you hate fate for getting you into this mess. you curse soulmates bonds, you were right. soulmates are a bunch of bullshit. just look at where that ended you up in. most importantly, you hate him. if you can, you’ll kill him on the spot.

the fucking psychopath. your soulmate.

you bit the cloth on your mouth as the binds on your eyes got wet from the tears that escaped from your eyes. your feelings were a mess and all you could feel is anger, shame, and dread.

“oh, you’re awake. that’s good. i thought i hit you harder than i intended to, thank god that you’re okay” you heard the familiar voice that you loathe. you growled through your gag but suna could only laugh at your pathetic attempt of dominance when you’re gagged, blindfolded, and tied to the bed.

“now now, no need for that. we want to get along, don’t we” he muttered, walking closer to you and sat on the bed, beside you.

you flinched when you felt his weight beside you and his hands caressed your cheek. you whimpered at the dull pain when he touches your cheek. this fucker touched where he punched you--

“that looked like it’ll bruise” you growled again at his words. you wanted to scream at him. hit him. make him feel the pain of what he did to you.

your fussing about stopped and you stiffened when you felt him shift on top of you, going in between your legs. you tried to close your legs but his hands were faster than you.

he maneuvered you like a doll he owns, fixing you into a position he liked. suna gazed at your tied-up body, his cock already starting to harden in his pants. he wants to touch you already.

his hand went up and tugged your blindfold as he smiled at your dazed look that changed to a mean one. suna chuckled at your spirit. it was making him excited.

“you’re too cute, love” he muttered, leaning closer to your neck and nuzzled into you, taking in your scent loudly making you flinch in dread.

“you smell so sweet,” he said against your neck, an unconscious shiver running up your body. suna smirked when he felt it and continued to nuzzle his face in your neck. his hands touching and groping your body while you growled through the gag but he barely even paid attention to it, too caught up at the feeling of finally touching you and being with you.

“i wanna taste you~” he whispered lewdly, looking deep into your eyes with a smirk. your eyes widened at his words and mustered up all the strength you had and hit his head against yours.

you were disoriented after it but it was worth it when you heard his curse as he leaned away. your forehead was red you were sure and it’ll bruise with how hard his head was.

“you bitch-!” your moment of victory was cut off when large hands wrapped around your neck, squeezing it. you choked, wriggling around to get away from suna but he leaned all his weight on top of you.

he glared down at you, watching with sick satisfaction when your eyes slowly fluttered close and your struggling gradually ceased. suna can snap your neck right now if he wants to. the power he has over you almost made him drool, his cock twitching excitedly in his pants.

he let your neck go, heart beating fast when he saw finger marks on your neck, the shape of his hands on your skin. he watched you cough and try to inhale air, desperately.

suna then grasped your chin in a tight hold and turned you to face him, making your dazed eyes look up at him, “do that again and i’ll make you bleed.”

he let your chin go harshly and climbed off you, going out of the room. you gulped and intake the precious air, looking at the door with fear and anger.

being with suna was an absolute nightmare. you don’t know how long it has been since the psycho kidnapped you and it was agitating. you fought back but suna liked it because it gave him the excuse to hurt you. you knew this but you just can’t give him the satisfaction he craved of you submitting to him.

your body was slumped into the bed whilst you cried as suna ate you out. his fingers pumping viciously in and out of you, tongue lapping on your swollen clit. he denied you 4 orgasms already and your body was so sensitive from it.

“just fucking accept this already!” suna growled against your pussy, the vibrations sending violent shivers in your body. you writhe and keened, your body in his mercy.

you shook your head, tears streaming down your red and bruised cheeks. your neck was decorated with purple and red, bite marks and fingerprints alike. your wrists red and raw from the rope he used on you constantly.

“n-no!”

suna rolled his eyes at your disobedience but let you be. he knows you’ll be his good girl sooner or later. he just has to try harder, he guesses.

he sucked on your clit messily, tonguing your wetness. his fingers caressing your walls as he hit your g-spot making you arch your back. suna smirked and continued his ministrations, ignoring your pleading to let you cum already.

he felt your walls clenching on his fingers as he stopped altogether making you cry in desperation. suna leaned on his feet, admiring the way your body tried to hump him to get the satisfaction of cumming.

your body is so beautiful. before it was pristine and void of any marks and flaws but now your skin was decorated with purple and red courtesy of his love for you.

“you really wanna do this, (y/n)? you rather be a bad girl than be my precious girl?” suna tried to reason with you, his tone was as if he was talking to a child. you scowled at him, “fuck you, asshole!”

suna’s eyes turned dark at it. one thing he can’t tolerate was you saying such crude and bad words. he raised his hand and slapped you, the force of it made you turn to the side as you gasped at the pain.

blood dripped from your nose. suna then grabbed your cheeks, squeezing. he glared down at you. “when will you learn... and here i thought you were smarter than that”

you cried at the pain of his grip on your face and the sting of his slap was still there as his fingers pressed down to the bruises you had on your face. he shook your head, growling, “what do you say when you do something wrong”

he continued to shake you, your aching limbs hurt at the violent movements. you whimpered and unconsciously replied, “i’m sorry-!”

suna stopped and removed his hands from you. you looked up at him with teary eyes and saw him smiling softly at you. his mood swings were scary. you don’t really know what type of suna you’ll get before it’s too late...

“atta girl...” he muttered and started to remove his pants. you panicked at his actions and tried to move away but the painful slap on your thigh was enough to make you stop.

“now, let me fuck you”

suna grabbed your ankle and pulled you down on the bed further, closer to him. he pumped his cock at the sight of you, so pretty and crying

“rintarou please-! d-don’t!” you cried, feeling so helpless and all your fire from earlier and the past days gone. the dark-haired male grinned at your sobbing and fussing about.

“tsk. be a good girl, (y/n). just accept it.” he leaned closer to you, whispering against your wobbly lips. his dark yellow eyes stared straight into yours, lust swirling around his orbs. your body shook in fear and a small cry leaving your swollen lips.

in one swift movement, suna entered you. he captured your lips, muffling your screams because of him suddenly entering you. the wet squishing noises were triggering your tears. you felt disgusted with yourself that you were enjoying the stretch and the feeling of being filled up by this psycho.

maybe in another world where you two have met differently. a perfect world where things weren’t complicated. if you two worked it out and things were different then maybe you’ve actually loved him and accepted him as your soulmate. but not in this world. not now.

you cried when suna started moving, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. your body arched on the bed, feeling the pleasure. suna panted above you, arms caging you and his muscles contracting with every movement he does.

suna cursed at the feeling, it felt so good. you feel so good. your wet and squishy walls sucking him so eagerly. the lewd sounds of your wetness and his constant thrusting was making him more excited.

he stopped for a moment, pulling out from your pussy to put you in all fours and then entered you again when he moved you the way he likes. suna groaned, fucking deep into you. his tip grazing your cervix making you squeal. you can feel your orgasm coming faster because of the orgasms suna denied you earlier. you sobbed, hips unconsciously thrusting back to his dick.

the male chuckled breathily, sneaking a hand between your legs to play with your swollen clit. you choked on a moan when you felt him massaging your clit. you let your head plop down to the mattress, arms wobbly, and all you could do was moan as your body jerking at the pleasure suna was giving you.

“oh honey, you should see how slutty your body gets when i’m fucking you” he snickered behind you, hips never relenting with his fast and hard thrusts.

you felt tears trail down your bruised cheeks, you don’t know if it’s because of the shame you felt earlier or the pleasure. the fast circles suna gave your clit made you whine and moan as you felt your orgasm wash over you.

you howled at the satisfying feeling of the violent orgasm, finally cumming after the torture of not coming four times earlier. suna smirked at the way your body convulsed beneath him.

the unwavering fucking from behind was sending you to overstimulation and suna’s fingers still rubbed down your sensitive clit. you whined and keened, drool slipping past your lips.

“so fucked out” suna muttered and bent to lean against your back, his dick twitching in your wet walls. he then angled his thrust differently making you gasp.

he leaned back again, staring at your sweaty discolored back, from his bites from the past fun times you two had, and the way you leaned against the pillows as your pretty face contorting into a fucked out expression, so lewd.

a large hand trailed down to the back of your neck, grabbing it and letting you lean against suna’s chest. his hand then wrapped around your dainty neck, squeezing, as he felt the vibrations of your moans.

“pretty baby~”

his other hand gripped your hips, stilling your wiggling around as he fucked into your harder at the newly changed angle. you whimpered at the way his thick cock reached so deep into you.

suna moaned beside your ear, hips slowly losing his rhythm as he chased his own orgasm. his self-control snapping into something greedy and feral. he ignored your cries and fucked you so he can finally cum.

the way he used you wasn’t supposed to feel this good. although he didn’t have any intention to make you feel good, the way his dick stuffed your full and the way his thickness stretched you was made you feel the familiar band in your stomach trying to snap once again.

he unconsciously squeezed your neck, breath heavy, when he felt his orgasm getting closer. he growled, thrusting sloppily in you, the sounds of your wetness echoed in the room along with your broken moans and rasps. you can feel him twitching inside you sending you into another orgasm.

you screamed, body arching against suna. the way your pussy squeezed him and the feeling of you cumming again triggered his own. suna moaned, painting your insides with his cum as he rode his orgasm, ignoring your whining.

he panted, removing his hold on you and letting you hit and slump unto the bed. you whined at the action. suna pulled out of you as he admired the way your pussy was filled with his cum, dripping down to your thighs and down to the sheets. he licked his lips at the sight and leaned closer to you as if he was lured in.

you gasped and cried when you felt his tongue wiggling around your sensitive pussy. you squeezed your eyes close tightly, body shivering at the overstimulation but suna barely paid any attention to you. he only wanted to satisfy his desires.

you gazed at the plain ceiling, dully. the soft breathing of the insane male beside you was making you grimace. he just finished fucking you or what he calls, “soulmate bonding time” but all he did was make you cry.

the sun was up and it was probably noon now but suna normally sleeps in and today was no exception. the phone beside suna’s side on the table started buzzing, circling a little because of the vibration. you heard suna groaned, always the light sleeper. you quickly closed your eyes and hid your face in the covers and pillows.

you felt the male shifting and after a while, he started talking in his annoyingly attractive deep voice. sleep taking a toll in his vocal cords making it all husky. you internally cursed the soulmate bond trying to make you see him in another light or some bullshit like that.

“hey, what’s up?”

you continued to listen to the one-sided conversation as you pretend to be asleep. your heart skipped a beat when you heard suna’s words.

“yeah, come over. i’ll introduce you to her”

your body stiffened but tried to relax. maybe this was your chance to expose him. you have to try something, you can’t keep letting him do these things to you...

a soft sleepy groan, the sound someone makes when they stretch, rung inside the quiet room. the covers shifted a bit and a disgustingly familiar body heat hit your skin as two large hands caressed your skin.

“baby? i’m gonna introduce you to my friends, that’s okay right? it’s time i show off my pretty baby~” you heard him coo. you bit your lip, how can this man act like your relationship with him is normal... you then became painfully aware of the bruises and scars on your body making you self-conscious as you tried to make yourself smaller.

“they’ll see all of these” he whispered sweetly with a dazed look on his eyes as he traced the marks that were in purple-y and reddish hues that it was too nauseating to look at but suna thought it was so beautiful on you.

suna spent all afternoon dolling you up, fixing your short dress that shows every mark he gave you. your eyes looked at your reflection. you teared up at the sight. you didn’t look like yourself anymore...

tired eyes that sagged with dark bags under it. a deep purple bruise on your cheek. your bottom lip was cut from suna’s slap, neck decorated with hickeys and fingerprints, skin discolored.

the man behind you started whistling the godforsaken tune he always sang under his breath as he combed your hair. after fixing your hair, he let his hands down on your shoulders and looked at you through the mirror.

“ain’t you a pretty little thing...” he muttered, admiring you. you let your gaze shift down to your lap as the male carried you to the living room.

“now behave.” his word was final as always. do not question it nor do you go against it. or he’ll hurt you... again and again...

a loud voice cut through the quiet atmosphere in the apartment and impatient knocks was heard. “suna! open the damn door, already!”

the dark-haired male sighed and went to the door. your heart started beating a little too fast. when his guests see you, or your state, you’ll get away from here... or maybe he’ll hurt them too... you shook your head. trying to stay positive so you can get out of this hellhole.

a tall man with golden dyed locks entered the room along with someone who looked similar to him though their hair was different. honey brown eyes lock with your tired ones, you were hopeful when you saw the confusion in his eyes.

the man looked back to suna who stood next to him, you knew you were saved when the two identical men glared at him but then they started talking--

“geez! here i thought you’ll be gentler now that you met your soulmate!”

“suna? gentle? like hell. now where’s the food. you promised me food, suna”

your eyes got teary as you suppressed a gasp. of course, his friends were as insane as he was.

the golden haired male then smiled at you like there was nothing wrong. like he doesn’t see all the fucking bruises on your body, “hey, darlin’~ suna’s been beating you, huh? were you misbehaving~?”

suna growled at the man and shoved him, “shut the fuck up, atsumu” the two started bickering like everything was normal as they ignored you...

you sniffled and turned to the light nudged from your side, you looked at the other male that entered the apartment. the man offered you some pudding as a spoon was hanging from his lips. “you look like you need it, miss” he said, his face unfazed.

you took the pudding with shaking hands and lowered your head as the three men walked around the room, conversing with each other.

maybe, suna’s right... life would be easier if you just accepted him. you were stuck with him now and always and his name on your skin will forever be the reminder of that.

fate has a weird way of pairing people up and you can’t do anything about it.

1K notes · View notes

dreamkidddream · 3 years

Text

So my birthday is on April Fools, (how deserving 🤪) and I decided to be self indulgent again and write something! These are short and reader is gender neutral!

WARNING: Lesson 16 spoilers in Beel and Belphie’s part (nothing too heavy but read their sections at your own risks)

The Brothers Celebrating your Birthday!

Lucifer

Expect the most grandest/high class celebration you’ve ever seen MC!

As much as he’s not a morning demon, he’s got a noticeable pep in his step this morning because it’s your special day

Expect him to be one of the first people to text you at midnight because he’s still up doing paperwork

But don’t worry, he won’t be doing any work when it’s time to celebrate

Little messages throughout the day, hinting at something big to come along with small gifts (atleast to him) such as: new outfits, lunch at Ristorante Six with him, basically stuff that he pleases you both and that he would love to see you in (not that he would ever tell you)

Expect his gifts to be high quality too (ie. very expensive)

You expected a huge party, but you didn’t expect him to get so sentimental

After everything ended, you ended up in his room, with him just holding you in his lap, unconsciously caressing you with his mind deep in thought

The impact that you made on his brothers- the impact that you made just on him- it’s far bigger than you could imagine. And that scares him

He’s gotten so close to you that he forgot that you can’t stay here forever, both in the Devildom and mortality. What would he do when you have to leave his brothers? When you have to leave him? It makes his chest pang with pain every time the thought crosses his mind, but he refuses to let it ruin the moments he does get to spend with you

You’ll never know how grateful he is for deep down, and he never wants to lose you. Who would have thought that the mighty firstborn would fall so deep for a mere human?

Mammon

ITS PARTY TIME

Get ready to have the best birthday ever with no one other than the Great Mammon!

Tries to be the first one to tell you, fell asleep and immediately felt bad

Celebrates your birthday like a national holiday but is still somehow tsundere about it. He’s only being like this because you don’t know how to party, and he doesn’t want to hear you complain later, got it?!

Has his crows bring you small gifts leading up to the big party. Bracelets, candy, mini love letters that he swore that he threw away...

Definitely snuck off during your party, because he wanted to hand you his gift personally (and he didn’t want to hear his brothers say anything about it). Prays (how ironic) that you don’t hate it, tears up when you say that you love it

Definitely got some kisses as thanks and can expect some more later

He just really appreciates and loves you okay? You’re important to him, and today’s the day that you were brought into the world, the reason that he’s able to look forward to something everyday. You’ve made a change in everyone’s lives, even that grouch Lucifer, and he has to say thanks somehow

Plus, you’re important to him- so he does see this as a special day regardless of what comes out of his mouth. He still gets embarrassed about being emotional, but he makes sure that you know that he loves you

He always will

Leviathan

It’s just another day normie, nothing special...

Hey quit trying to figure out what he’s hiding behind his back! He doesn’t have anything okay?! It’s nothing! And ignore that he called you, he just butt dialed you and didn’t expect you to answer! And he just decided to say happy birthday because everyone else was, not because he actually cares!

He is so stumped on how he’s going to celebrate your birthday, he hasn’t stressed about something non-otaku like this in decades. He’s so anxious that he’ll ruin your big day. What if he gets you something and you hate it and then hate him?!!

This day is making him more nervous than it should, but he can’t help it! You’re his best friend, a person that he can confidently say that he’s fortunate enough to know and that he loves-

OKAY he can’t exactly say it out loud yet without turning 50 shades of red, but he really does. He just needs a way to show it

Believe it or not, he was too excited to wait to tell you his gift after the party, so he told you after he said happy birthday. Free range to his manga collection??? What could be better than that?! The perfect gift if you asked him

Plus he rather you be holed up with him in his room than being anywhere else. That’s how it should be: just his Henry, his anime/manga/game collection, and Henry 2.0

It’s the least that he can do for how much you’ve been there for him, and even though he still has a hard time saying how he really feels, he hopes that this atleast gives you a glimpse into his true feelings

Ugh this feels like he’s a love interest in an otome game or something...

Satan

Honestly is the chillest of them all

Don’t get me wrong he’s super excited like everyone else, but he has a very detailed itinerary that you both need to follow for today, starting with breakfast.

Get down here before Beel eats your breakfast!

He made it with all of your favorite activities and places, along with things that he just knew you’ll love (and him too, but seeing you smiling is more than enough to make him content). He put a lot of effort into this whole day, especially with your gift

He put thought into it (no surprise there), he didn’t want to give you just anything and he has to one-up Lucifer and he needed to give you something to show you how much of a change you’ve been in his life. How much you influenced him to make better choices when it comes to channeling his anger and rage

He got you a magic photo album last year, and the way that you reacted to that (which was obviously positive), the pressure is on this year to impress you even more

Which he ended up doing! But he won’t lie, he was just a tad bit nervous in disappointing you, but everything worked out well, so you didn’t need to know!

Although, he did feel a bit shy in handing you his gift, he felt relieved in seeing you accept it so quickly

Also invited you to read any of his books, and even offered to teach you some spells, both safe and simple enough to where it won’t cause any real damage to anyone. Might teach you a spell to spite Lucifer to make the LYS club proud

You don’t know how much you mean to his brothers, how much you mean to him. You’ve made a bigger impact that you think, and while he knows that nothing he does will ever show you how eternally thankful he is for your presence, he at least wants to show you a sliver of his appreciation. What better way than the day you came into the world?

Also expect him to try and fluster you the whole day. You’re too cute for him to leave you alone, and your reactions are better than that brand new cat cafe

Actually he might have to test that theory, and the only way to do that is if you both visit the cafe. Either way he’s not complaining! Cats and you? A match to die for

Asmodeus

You’re the only reason he’ll interrupt his beauty sleep

Wants bragging rights to say that he told you happy birthday first

Today is a big day after all! It’s the day that you came into the world, and that you’re able to even be down here with him- I mean them!

Will be your designated fashion designer. All your outfits already have to not only be on point, but they have to be iconic. No exceptions! Doesn’t matter if you’re just going to Purgatory Hall, you’re going there in style!

Gifts are in style too! He got you stuff that you would absolutely fall in love with. He’s not that self centered, give him some credit MC!

After the big celebration with everyone, of course you’re going out to The Fall! He has to show you off of course, it would be a crime if he didn’t

But once everything is over and you guys are home, he takes his time in doing his nightly routine on you both. Honestly just basking in your glow and just enjoying you. No sharing, no interruptions, just you and him

He catches himself thinking that there’s no way he can love someone more than he can love himself, it’s impossible, it has to be

But he loves you so much that he’s starting to doubt that theory

But would that really be a problem?

Beelzebub

He’s so excited! And he takes today VERY seriously

He’s gonna make sure you eat SO GOOD today that Lord Diavolo would be jealous

As soon as you get up you guys are hitting every restaurant and I mean EVERY

You’re getting the best of the best because you deserve the best

And as a gift he got you so much food that you’ll probably have enough to last you both for the rest of the year...if he doesn’t eat it all

He knows that food is his thing, but he got you so much because he knows that it makes him happy, and he wants you to feel the same way. It makes him feel all warm inside, and when you’re with him it’s like he’s eating all of his favorites at once, but even better

And you guys eating food together?? It makes him feel like he’s back in the Celestial Realm again

But I feel like with Beel, another way he shows love is through acts of service and quality time. For him, even if you guys are doing absolutely nothing, he’s 100% in bliss

So his gift to you was in the way of snacks to share and having him at your mercy (not that you would ever take advantage of him like that). Also promising to take you wherever you want, it’s your day!

You see past his sin, and enjoy Beel for Beel. You don’t just see him as Gluttony, you helped bring his twin back to him, you even sleep and listen to him after his nightmares of Lilith. It’s only right to show gratitude for all that you’ve done on your birthday

And all of his brothers love you, especially him. You’re basically family at this point, and no takebacks either

Just don’t leave him MC, you’ve became a big part of his life now, and he honestly would be very sad without you

Belphegor

There’s no way that this sleepy king can stay up until midnight so you’ll get your happy birthday when he sees you in the morning (if he’s up)

No but fr in the game he DOES NOT CALL YOU OR EVEN TEXT!!! LIKE I STAYED UP THINKING HE FELL ASLEEP AND HE JUST STRAIGHT UP- okay sorry back to the headcannons 😭

He’s very optimistic on the inside trust me, he just doesn’t show it very well on the outside, but he’s trying!

He can’t help it that he’s sleepy but...you put some energy back into him, and he is ecstatic about celebrating with you, he just has a hard time showing it

His brothers were a little peeved about his nonchalant attitude AND not getting you a gift, but Beel already knows what his twin is doing, he just didn’t want anyone else to know because he wanted everything to be perfect

After the party, he snuck you away to the planetarium, which is designated as your sacred spot. This was nothing new, but you still laid in awe cuddled with Belphie looking up at the sky

But tonight was different, as the stars up above spelled out...your name? And did that star basically let out miniature fireworks? And are those stars over there shaped as a cow and mooing?

Seeing your eyes light up meant that it was worth it to skip out on some of his naps to talk to Solomon and practice out some new spells (but you won’t ever know that)

Belphie really cares about you. Really cares about you. No matter how much he may be sarcastic or act like things aren’t a big deal, they are to him, especially when it comes to you. After the ill-fated events in the attic, he would have not been surprised if you hated him and want nothing to do with him ever again; it was his fault after all, he couldn’t be upset with you. But you were willing to forgive him, and start over

MC, you will never know how much indebted he is to you. You’re the reason that he’s out of the attic and reconnected with his twins again, the reason that he’s apart of the family and not separated. Yes, he still has some issues that he may need to work on for himself, but he’s able to take the right step because of you

He doesn’t really have a choice in celebrating your birthday (at least to him but he’s gonna celebrate either way), because without you, he doesn’t know where he would end up at, he would be lost. He owes you enough to see you safe and happy, and he swears that he will keep you that way. A happy and safe MC means a satisfied Belphie

And having you curled up in his side, going on about the show he planned, has him feeling very light, and he can’t help but wonder if this is how his sister felt

If it is, he can’t help but start to see everything a little clearer now

#obey me x reader #obey me reader insert #obey me #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphegor x reader #obey me belphie x reader

381 notes · View notes

wondersofdreaming · 4 years

Text

Third time’s the charm

Characters: Henry Cavill x 3rd person female reader (the reader in this story has been described as someone with long brown hair, hazel eyes and not very tall)

Word count: 1.705

Warnings: Fluff. Insecurity. Doubt. Chasing. Jumping.

Author’s note: Thank you @radaofrivia for your guidance and your help <3

Go read her stories right here: Rada’s masterlist

Sentences in square brackets are Kal’s thoughts. Sentences in italics are Henry’s thoughts.

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

It was a lovely day. The sun was shining brightly in the clear blue sky. Not a cloud present. The birds were chirping in the trees, and people were chatting away around him.

His hulking size of a fluffball dog was trotting happily beside him. Kal’s long tongue was sticking out between his sharp fangs, panting and drooling all over the uneven pathway.

He watched as a couple walked past him. They were smiling, and the woman was laughing at a joke her boyfriend had just cracked. It made him long for a special someone in his life he could crack jokes to, a someone who would laugh at his sense of humour, someone with a genuine laugh.

Henry filled his nostrils with the fresh air. He felt the vibrations of children's laughter through the ground. His heart was yearning to hear the giggles of his own flesh and blood, and it clouded his already saddened mind.

He hadn’t noticed that Kal had been sniffing the ground. His ears perked with interest as his nose found a scent that made his mouth water. Kal galloped across the park without warning, making Henry lose his grasp on the leash.

[Something smells yummy!]

“Kal!” Henry yelled at the black and white dog, but it was too late. Kal was already out of sight, following his nose to whatever had caught his attention. Henry wandered around the park. His heart was beating so fast it felt as if it would jump out of his chest. A million scenarios ran through his mind: What if something happened to Kal? What if someone dog-napped Kal? What if Kal hurt someone?

Henry searched all over the park but to no avail until he heard a loud scream coming from behind a group of trees. Shit!

The run towards where the scream came from felt as if it took forever. Time was standing still as he neared the trees. He first noticed the bushy tail, then the rest of Kal’s body, standing atop a woman who was loving up all the licks Kal was giving her. She managed to push the large dog off her body, while her delicate hands were giving him scritches all over his fluffy fur coat.

“You’re such a good boy,” he heard her sweet silvery voice say, then a bark came from his wayward dog.

[Yes, Kal is a good booooy… oh yeah, right there. More scritches!]

Henry let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding in since Kal went missing. Thank god!

“Kal!” Henry yelled over the sound of giggles coming from the woman. He started walking towards them but stopped in his tracks like a deer in headlights when the woman looked up. Her hazel eyes shone with excitement, and the grin on her perfectly succulent lips made his heart skip a beat. Henry felt like he had been struck by lightning, suddenly unable to move as he watched the dark-haired angel stand. She dusted off the dirt from her jeans and walked towards him. She seemed unharmed even after having been hammered by Kal, who probably weighed more than she did.

“You must be this dog’s owner. He really scared me, when he suddenly jumped on my back,” she giggled a melodious sound.

Henry’s brain finally started working again, the gears turning behind his eyes as he was processing what she had just told him. Kal; his sweet mild-tempered fluffball, who wouldn’t hurt a fly; had jumped on this woman’s back, and yet she was still smiling and loving up the bear without being afraid. It didn’t seem she knew who he was, as he didn’t see the recognition sparkle in her eyes.

“I am so sorry that he jumped on your back, he normally doesn’t do that, I don’t know what came over him,” Henry knew he was babbling, he knew he needed to shut his mouth, but the words kept vomiting out between his lips.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t that scared. Besides, he is such a sweet dog, I don’t mind being jumbled,” she looked into his eyes, and his heart did a somersault as she smiled again.

“Be a good boy for your owner, Kal,” she told the bear, and then she was gone.

Henry was standing cemented to the place. He didn’t know what had just happened. Kal barked at him, his tongue dangling from between his lips; he was smiling.

“Well Kal, you sure do have great taste in women, but you should stick to the four-legged kind,” Henry reprimanded him softly. Kal wasn’t happy. There was a reason why he had gone rogue and run away from Henry. So, before Henry could pick up the leash, Kal darted through the bushes to find the mystery woman. Not again!

[But I didn’t get to know what smelled so good!]

Henry, having gotten out of his trance, followed his dog once again. Why was his dog so keen on pursuing that woman? It was starting to annoy him. Panic was beginning to make itself comfortable in his brain, what if the woman had something that would make Kal follow her on purpose? What if she was pretending not to know him, so she could steal his dog and ask for an insane ransom?

He rounded a corner just in time to see Kal jump on the brown-haired beauty, again.

“Oh, it’s you again, Kal,” she said with amusement hinting in her voice. Kal barked and went to sniff her jacket, burying his snout deep in her right pocket. He came back out with a bag of peanut butter cookies between his teeth.

[TREATS!]

“Kal! Stop! You pig, what are you doing?” Henry raised his voice sternly at his furry friend. He grabbed Kal’s collar and pulled him away from the lady, making Kal drop the bag of biscuits to the ground. Kal lunged forward, which made Henry think he was going to jump the woman again, so he moved between Kal and the lady, and gave his companion a hard stare, as to say not happening, pal.

“So that is what you were after all along,” she said and picked up the bag.

“I am so sorry, miss, are you alright?” Henry asked while jogging towards the two. She gave him an amused smile.

“I’m fine. He didn’t scare me as much this time. Apparently, he just wants some doggie biscuits. May I give him some? They’re homemade and don't contain anything that could harm a dog.”

“Oh, yes, of course, but he shouldn’t be rewarded for leaping on other people. I swear, he has been trained not to do that,” Henry was rambling again. He was spewing out nonsense while the gorgeous woman was telling Kal to sit before she rewarded him for listening. She even asked him to give her paw, which Kal did immediately, a rare thing as he only wants to listen when he’s in the mood, kind of like a cat. She is way too nice to want to abduct Kal.

“Good boy, Kal.”

[Miss with the treats is super nice. Hey human, can we take her home with us?]

“You said those were homemade, did you make them?” Henry asked.

“Oh, yes. I have a dog myself who is a picky eater. I’ve tried all kinds of doggie treats, but she would spit them out. I had no choice but to experiment on how to make dog biscuits,” the woman told him while she gestured for Kal to lie down, which he obeyed instantly.

“And does she like the homemade treats?”

“She gobbles them down like I didn’t feed her for a week. She’s becoming quite the diva.”

They talked a bit more about her dog, who was a rescue labradoodle, and about how it had changed her look on store-bought dog treats. It was healthier to make them yourselves, and people in her neighbourhood, who had dogs, had been asking if she would sell the biscuits to them. She had then started her own one-man company, making dog treats, and her most popular item was the peanut butter cookies. They were shaped like the femur bone, which was the most popular form for dog treats.

“I’m Henry by the way, may I ask what your name is?” Henry asked her carefully. She smiled brightly at him, and it chased all the dark thoughts he had earlier away from his mind. She told him her name, which was elegant and so fitting a person like her. He had been expecting the penny to drop when he mentioned his name, but she was oblivious as to who he was, which in turn made his heart leap with joy inside behind his chest.

She looked at her wristwatch and gasped.

[Oh boy…]

“Crap, I have to pick up my dog soon. It was nice talking to you, and please don’t let this beautiful boy out of your sight,” a chuckled left her lips as she walked away once again.

Kal licked his mouth for the crumbs that might have gotten stuck on the fur around his snout. He then looked up at Henry with an annoyed look.

“What?” Henry asked with a sigh. Kal tilted his head to the right. “I can’t just jump on her like you do and then ask for her phone number, that would just scare her away.”

Kal looked towards the woman, who was getting further and further away from them. He then let out a bark, and with a waggle of his puffy tail, he demanded that Henry make a choice before it was too late.

[You’re blowing it, human!]

Henry sighed and crouched down.

“What should I do?” he asked the bear-like dog. Kal tilted his head to the side, looking at Henry as if he was crazy.

[Marry her! I want more treats!]

“You like her as well, don’t you, bear?”

Kal stood and bumped his head to Henry’s back, as to tell him to start moving, which made the human mountain chuckle, getting the hint from his dog. He released Kal from the leash and whispered: “Go get her.”

Kal licked his master’s face and darted towards the woman with the gorgeous brown curls.

#Henry Cavill #This man #I need a drink #Fanfiction #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x female reader #Henry x reader #Henry x female reader #Third time's the charm #My story #Short story

640 notes · View notes

cinnamonest · 3 years

Note

Lenaaaaa! Imagine an AU where Khaenriah didn't crash and burn and vanish throughout history! Imagine Prince Kaeya of Khaenriah, with his sultry smiles and perfect manners and how almost all ladies and some men of marriageable age have humongous crushes on him! Prince Kaeya who has this little wisp of a maid always trailing a respectful three steps behind him, who had been his nanny since the maid was a pre-teen and he was a child, and who he loves so dearly! Too dearly, some nobles think.

On the outside, it's reasonable: you had protected and raised him from his cradle, and you're his closest confidant, save maybe for the red-haired wine tycoon from the Anemo Archon's lands! It's quite reasonable for him to allow you a room beside his, especially with the recent assassinations against high-ranking nobles. Along with that, goes hand-in-hand, that you follow his steps all day! Of course, the fact that you were unmarried was a problem--but that's okay! The Prince, with all his affection, would surely help you find a perfect match!

On the inside, it's this: The Prince is sometimes inappropriate in moments. He used to be an adorable, precocious child, and you had raised him as best as you could, but sometimes, you don't know what he's thinking anymore. It's inappropriate to call him pet names as when he was a child, but when you're both left alone, he lays his head on your shoulder, lips on your neck, and murmurs to be called those long-forgotten names. His hand around your waist is something that sends chills down your spine and makes you want to step back. If you bring up his meetings with potential marriage candidates, he smiles something odd and orders you to stand beside him the entire time, which is both an insult to the opposing party and again, inappropriate.

You've been attacked far too many times by manic suitors, both with visions and without. Noble or commoners, or merchants. You get hurt, and you want to rest, but you can't shirk away duties. Kaeya only sends the best doctors and ointments to you, and they aid in hastening the healing process. As if, telling you that the only place where you ought to be was beside the Crown Prince of Khaenri'ah.

At one point, everyone starts avoiding you. It's lonely. And it's because of this that you find a suitable marriage partner. A Knight, you think? Who wards away two particularly insane noble daughters with electro and pyro vision, hiding you from them for hours and hours on end. Kaeya doesn't know you and that Knight had met. The next day, a ducal family and a viscounty is found guilty of deep, spine-chilling abuse of power and corruption and rebellion, among other things. Your hands turn cold when you see familiar faces of the Electro and Pyro vision ladies, as they're dragged up on the guillotine. You can't bring yourself to watch, and Kaeya finds you later, taking you into his arms and cooing as if you were the child. His smile is off, and for once, you're terrified of the boy you raised from childhood.

You plan on eloping with the Knight. Kaeya scares you. Kaeya doesn’t need to know. Kaeya needs to marry an affluent family heir and solidify his position for the throne. You've planned your escape. The back walls of the castle, a dog hole, and a glider. Your case of clothes already sent along to Sumeru. It's the dead of the night and--

Kaeya stands in your path, blue eyes gleaming with something unearthly. He's splattered with something red and viscous dripping from his sword.

He laughs, eerie, and intense. He smiles, stalking towards you leisurely like a cat. "Hello there, angel. Where do you think you're going?"

(The next day, the Prince's wet nurse had vanished. Their belongings have been stolen, their room ransacked. Their secret paramour escaped, suspected of taking advantage of the pure heart they possessed, and stole from the maid. No one dares to say what may have befallen the maid, lest Prince Kaeya once again throw a fit in his office. They whisper how pitiful the prince is, to lose one good friend to such an insidious crime.)

(In reality, The Prince is the dragon. He has kept his beloved darling in a tower, high up in the mountains, where one cannot flee from without physical prowess and a vision.)

--🎉 anon

Hhhh pseudo-maternal figure being lusted after by a man she still can't help but see as an immature kid and dismisses any affection bc of it sign me the FUCK up

Especially like if that's his complex. His logic is just "You still see me as a kid huh?? Well a kid doesn't commit homicide" so there we go

#our boys are full of such galaxy brain ideas honestly #lena's asks #.ky

155 notes · View notes

ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Eighteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: a short update while i try to find my writing rhythm again :))

***

Nesta hasn’t danced in over ten years—yet her body still remembers how to move fluidly and create shapes as if she never stopped. Pole dancing is different, of course: most of it takes place in the air, and she doesn’t have the right muscles developed to support her weight that well. Damn, she should really ask Cassian for help if she wants to keep doing this.

Still, Emerie and Gwyn are gaping by the time Nesta lands on the floor after trying out a basic spin.

She cracks her neck. “What?” she says at their stares.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Emerie demands.

She shrugs indifferently. “Eight years of ballet. Push-up challenges with Cassian.”

The instructor, an overly energetic Australian woman, comes up just then and claps Nesta on the shoulder, making her jump. “That was beautiful,” she praises. “Really, you have the balance of a cat. What’s your name again?”

Nesta introduces herself obediently, and Gwyn and Emerie follow.

The instructor nods. “In that case, Nesta, you keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t worry about your upper body strength yet, it’ll come around with time. You, the redhead,” she addresses Gwyn.

Gwyn straightens.

“I’ve never seen someone with your height and grace at the same time,” the instructor says. Gwyn beams with pride. “Unfortunately,” she continues, “I’ve also never seen someone so prone to hurting themselves on the pole.” Gwyn hangs her head.

“And the pretty girl.” She turns to Emerie last, who looks like she already knows what she’s about to hear. “Well, we can’t all be naturals.” The instructor grins broadly. “Feel free to keep using the poles after class is over.” She nods to their group and moves on to some other students.

Emerie sticks her tongue out and groans. “My tights keep giving me wedgies on the pole.”

“This was your idea,” Nesta reminds her as she reaches for her water bottle.

“Yet you’re the only one reaping the benefits,” Gwyn grumbles. “You never told us you had the body of a dancer and the balance of a gazelle.”

“Cat,” Emerie corrects.

“Guys,” Nesta says firmly. “This class is important for all of us. We won’t look this good,” she gestures to all their bodies, “forever. Gwyn is already pushing thirty.”

Gwyn’s jaw drops. “I’m turning twenty-seven, not getting menopause.”

“Same thing,” Emerie mutters. Gwyn shoves her hard and goes to pack her gym bag, leaving Emerie dramatically rubbing her shoulder. Nesta follows after Gwyn while the rest of the class begins gathering their things, too.

“How’re you feeling?” she mutters lowly as Gwyn packs. They haven’t brought up the conversation in Gwyn’s car since it took place, but Gwyn seems returned to her usual self now, if not even sunnier.

Gwyn’s lips twitch up as she glances sidelong at Nesta. “Perfect,” she says smoothly. “I can’t even remember what I was so upset about.”

Nesta is glad, even though she knows the nightmare isn’t gone. Knows that anytime from the next hour to the next year, it could reappear in full force and drag Gwyn down again. But hopefully it won’t hit as hard as it did before, now that Gwyn has her.

After class, they all pile up in Emerie’s car, a handed-down hunk of metal which Emerie insists on calling “vintage”. Gwyn sticks her head between the driver and passenger seat from the back and wrinkles her nose. “Get me home quick, it smells like a dead banana back here.”

“Oh, is that where I left it?” Emerie starts to turn around, but Nesta stops her with a hand on her shoulder. “I need a shower and a nap,” she pleads. “Let’s go.”

Emerie begrudgingly assents, sticking the key in the ignition and turning it. Nothing happens.

Frowning, she turns it again, but the engine doesn’t so much as choke. She slaps the dashboard like it’ll bring her car to life.

“Amazing,” Nesta mutters.

***

Cassian has imagined more times than he’d like to admit what it would be like when Nesta finally introduced him to her friends, but he never imagined this.

Three tired and hungry girls sit in his truck, alternating between arguing and laughing with each other. He can’t keep up with all of their personalities at once, so he just hones in on Nesta while he drives. Nesta, who Cassian has never seen so carefree or witty with people other than himself before. It both fascinates him and freaks him out, the realization that there’s so much to Nesta he doesn’t know yet. It gives him all the more excuse to spend the next several years getting to know her.

“Don’t tell me what to do with my car,” the dark-haired girl, Emerie, is snapping from the backseat. “Mr. Madani,” she abruptly says, sticking her head forward to look him in the face. Cassian nearly jumps. “Do you know how to change a car battery?”

Nesta shoves Emerie’s face back through the gap between seats from where she sits in the front. “You don’t need a battery change, you need a lifestyle change,” she says. “And don’t call my boyfriend by his last name, he’s not a middle-aged dad.”

Cassian bites back a laugh at that.

“Oh, but if I’m twenty-seven, I’m on the brink of menopause,” Gwyneth speaks up.

“Really?” Cassian says, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror for the first time all drive. “You’re the same age as me?”

He remembers what Nesta told him about Gwyn’s discomfort around men, so he tries to keep his tone casual, distant. If he scares Nesta’s friend away, he’ll never forgive himself.

Gwyn looks stunned to be directly addressed by him, seeming to lose all her sass. “Uh...my birthday’s in a few days,” she says, suddenly awkward.

“That’s right,” Emerie interjects eagerly. “We’re having a rager.”

“We’re having a sleepover,” Nesta corrects. She throws Cassian an exasperated look. “Drive faster, will you? I can’t share a car with these girls any longer.”

“Don’t be fucking rude.” Gwyn flicks a hair tie at Nesta, making her cry out.

Cassian does not understand this dynamic at all, so he shuts up and does as he’s told.

After Gwyn and Emerie have been safely dropped off, Cassian throws his keys into the bowl at the cabin entrance and tosses off his shoes. “I think I finally know what it’s like to be you,” he tells Nesta as they meet the warmth of the house.

“What do you mean?” She unzips her windbreaker, revealing the form-fitting athleticwear beneath. God, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to look at her since he picked her up.

He redirects his eyes to her face. “You know,” he says. “On the outside looking in. I feel drained.”

Her lips quirk up as she hangs up her jacket. “That scared of a couple of girls, huh?”

“They’re your friends. I don’t know what else I expected.” He follows Nesta deeper into the living room, kicking at the ground. “So…” he trails casually. “How was class?”

Nesta responds by rolling her eyes. “I was wondering how long you’d take to crack.”

“What do you mean?” he says, indignant.

“I mean…” She steps up to him and takes his hands, dragging them up her waist to settle on the bare skin beneath her black crop top. “You haven’t said a word about pole-dancing since I told you I was starting it. One would almost think it didn’t affect you at all, and yet,” she tilts her head, “I get the feeling you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Especially at night, when you’re alone.”

Cassian’s breath goes thin. She knows him too well.

“Cunning witch,” he breathes. Nesta’s smile is slow and winning, which he takes as invitation to slip his hands around her back and pull her in. Her chest is pressed flush against his.

She stares at his mouth, the place she always stares when her mind is five steps ahead of reality. Like she’s already imagining how he’ll take her. “Dreaming about a private performance, are you?”

“Hopefully not right now,” a low voice says from above them.

Nesta jumps, spinning around in Cassian’s arms, but Cassian just closes his eyes and sighs. He opens them to find Azriel sitting in the reading nook that overlooks the living room, various work reports scattered about him.

“Have you been there this whole time?” Nesta demands.

“Unfortunately,” Azriel says at the same time Cassian grumbles, “Of course he has.” Remaining unnoticed is all his brother is good for.

Nesta sighs and rubs her eyes, the mood effectively killed. “I need a break.”

Cassian considers going up to Az and pushing him over the second floor railing as Nesta wiggles out of his arms and heads for the stairs. “And a back massage,” she calls over her shoulder.

“I’ll be right there,” Cassian tells her. But he waits to hear their bedroom door click shut before he also goes upstairs, not towards Nesta but to the reading nook.

“Hey, bro?” He tries to sound lighthearted as he approaches Az. “Do you mind not cockblocking me in my own house?”

Az doesn’t look up from the report he’s reading, flipping a page. “It’s rude to be horny in public spaces.”

“My house is not a public space,” Cassian growls, struggling to keep his temper. “Before you moved in, it was a very, very private space.” For him and Nesta alone, he doesn’t add.

Azriel finally looks up, question in his eyes. “So what?” he says. “You want me to leave?”

Never, is the automatic assurance that nearly comes out of Cassian’s mouth. Of course he’d never want his brother gone, especially when he’s clearly going through… something. But he bites down on the word and takes a seat in the chair across from Az. “I want to know how long you’re planning on staying. For real. You can run from your problems as much as you want, but that doesn’t mean I can provide you with a hiding place forever.”

“Wow.” Azriel’s eyes widen in mock-disbelief and he clasps a hand to his chest. “So cold, brother. I think you caught some of your girlfriend’s iciness.”

Cassian narrows his eyes seriously at Az. “Or maybe I’m being the only adult here.” Cassian now has responsibilities to a person who isn’t part of his traditional inner circle. A person he can see himself making long-term plans with, a person he plans on keeping around. It changes the course of his future in a way that the rest of his family probably haven’t realized yet.

Though maybe Azriel does realize it, because he looks away and murmurs, “No need to rub it in.”

For the thousandth time that month, Cassian wonders what caused Azriel to run away from Velaris. It’s a secret Az refuses to share with even him.

“I’m trying,” Azriel says. His words are slow, unsure. “I’m trying to create space between me and that city, but I’m going to need more time. I can’t tell you how long it’ll take until I can go back. But if you can’t keep me here, I’ll find someplace else to stay.” He shrugs. “It’s not that hard.”

Cassian exhales, feeling sympathy twist deep in his chest for his best friend—and he doesn’t even know what the sympathy is for. “Then take your time,” he says sincerely. “Stay here forever if you want. We can Photoshop you into all our pictures. But don’t think I’m gonna make it easy on you,” he warns.

“You already don’t make it easy on me,” Az mutters. “I can hear you and Nesta fucking all the time.”

“First, don’t ever talk about Nesta and fucking in the same sentence ever again.”

Az blinks in surprise, likely remembering the way they would talk about their hookups before Nesta came into the picture. “Damn, she’s got you bad.”

“Second,” Cassian continues, “I will not hesitate to make you sleep outside if you get on my or Nesta’s nerves.”

“With that attitude, I’ll be out of here by next week,” Az snorts. He crosses his feet and picks up his report again, clearly done with this conversation.

Seeing no hope in rubbing the point in further, Cassian leaves Azriel to his work.

***

Nesta is stripped down to her underwear and getting ready to shower when she notices a missed call from Elain on her phone.

She hesitates at her sister’s name on the screen, wondering what could possibly have encouraged Elain to call while Nesta was at dance class. What happened to the times that Nesta could go weeks without a single person checking up on her?

Looking toward the bedroom door as if Cassian will come in and save her from having to call Elain back, she waits a solid minute before giving up.

Elain picks up on the first ring. “I’m surprised you called back,” she greets.

“I’m full of surprises these days.” Nesta settles onto the bed. “What did you want?” She doubts Elain called just for a check-in, not with the stagnant bitterness that’s been between them lately.

“To have a normal conversation with my sister for once.”

Nesta tries not to roll her eyes all the way back into her head, even though no one is around to see her. “Go on and have it then.”

“I heard from Rhys that Azriel moved into Cassian’s place,” Elain says in her honey-sweet voice. “I’ve been meaning to ask how that’s going for you.”

Nesta’s brow furrows at that voice, the one that Elain uses whenever she wants to give her best first impression—or wants to pry something out of someone. “It’s going fine,” she says flatly. “Az and I get along great.”

That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but…

“You’re calling him Az now?” Nesta can hear the way Elain tries to tamp down on her curiosity, but she’s never been as good at affecting apathy as Nesta is.

“Yeah,” she answers. “Why? Do you miss him?”

Elain nearly chokes over the line. “Why—why would you say that?”

“I thought you guys were friendly,” Nesta says, leaning back into the pillows. “Doesn’t everyone miss him back in Velaris?”

“Oh.” The relief in Elain’s voice is palpable, piquing Nesta’s curiosity. “Yeah, we miss him.” She clears her throat. “He left without telling anybody.”

Nesta fiddles with the band of her panties. “You don’t know why he left either?”

Elain is silent for several moments. “No.” Her answer is quiet, truthful. “I don’t know.” She adds, “Keep an eye on him, will you? I would do it myself, but I’ve been iced out.”

Nesta finds this very suspicious. She can’t bring herself to be interested enough to keep snooping, however, not as the door creaks open and Cassian enters the room. “Will do,” she promises Elain, and makes a quick goodbye. When she hangs up, Cassian asks, “Who was it?”

“Elain.” Nesta frowns at her phone. She wonders if someone like Cassian would be better at reading between the lines of the strange conversation she just had. Maybe he could put his finger on the mysterious relationship between her sister and his brother. But since there are no creeks nearby for Azriel to be shoved into, and it isn’t any of Nesta’s business either way, she decides to give him and Elain time to sort their own shit out.

“What did she want?”

Nesta refocuses on Cassian, who leans against the door appreciating her half-naked form stretched out before him. Without words, she holds her arms open.

He shoves off the door and approaches her on the bed, letting her envelop him into a hug. It isn’t the warmest or most comforting hug, and her arms are stiff as stone, but he melts into her either way. There’s a weariness in his broad shoulders that spikes concern in her.

When Cassian pulls away, she traps his face in her hands and scans it closely for answers. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks. “You fell asleep early during the last two movies we watched and you’re half-asleep now.”

“What are you talking about?” He throws his signature smile her way, but it lacks alertness. “Do I look like there’s anything wrong with me?”

“You tell me.” Nesta shifts so she can slide her hand over the smooth plane of his back, resting her palm on the warm spot between his shoulder blades. It’s her best imitation of a soothing gesture, and it makes Cassian’s lips quirk up lightly.

He hangs his head and sighs. “Is it possible to have growing pains at my age?”

Nesta is confused. “Like, physically?”

“No,” he says. “Just… growing up.”

“I don’t think we ever stop growing up,” she answers honestly. Maybe she’s biased because a part of her is still trapped in that childlike state, and she has more growing to do than most people. “I think it hurts a little every time we have to shift and become someone older. What’s hurting you now?”

Her hand slides up to the nape of Cassian’s neck, gently massaging the muscles there. His head droops even more under her touch. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that when I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” he huffs. But he doesn’t look very inclined to argue.

Nesta squeezes the back of his neck. “I can be the stable one, too, you know. I can take care of you.” She should’ve defeated this misconception sooner.

“That’s not what I meant,” Cassian says, shaking his head. “I meant that I promised you a massage.”

Oh. She nearly forgot about that. “If you tell me what growing pains you’re having, I’ll let you join me in the shower,” she promises. “You can do whatever you want there.”

He looks up at that, dragging his gaze over her mostly-bare figure, and Nesta knows she’s won. “Tell me,” she demands one final time.

Cassian inspects her face, likely deciding how much he should reveal or not. “I’ve been thinking about the future,” he finally says. “It was never something I cared much about before, but now it keeps me up at night.”

Nesta is slow to realize—he’s talking about their future. “You really never thought about the future before?” she asks. At one point in time, Nesta had her life planned out to the age of forty. Her plans hadn’t included this, though.

Cassian shakes his head. “There was nothing for me to think about.”

She runs soothing fingers across his scalp, her heart rate unexpectedly picking up a beat. “And what do you think about now?”

Hazel eyes meet hers with wariness. “Stupid stuff,” he says. “Cars, taxes, insurance.”

At the look on her face, he pulls away from the hand that’s gone still on his neck. “Okay, let’s get you in the shower before I scare you away for good.”

Nesta feels herself being scooped into Cassian’s arms, but she doesn’t quite register it. It’s not until they’re in the bathroom that she remembers words. “I’m not scared,” she says from the cradle of his arms. “I was just surprised.”

Regaining her senses, she squirms until Cassian puts her down on the floor. She straightens. “I’ve never... pondered on the small things like that.”

Except they aren’t really small or stupid, are they? They’re big, inevitable facets of sharing a life with someone. She clears her throat. “The way we live now is already so nice. I guess I forgot things won’t be like this forever.”

Which isn’t the most assuring thing to say from the way Cassian’s face becomes carefully still. But in a blink he’s smiling again, his hands going to unclip her bra. “Don’t worry yourself with that shit,” he chuckles. “I was only dreaming.”

Guilt turns Nesta’s stomach into sludge. She made Cassian share what was weighing on him only for her to brush it off. She wants to talk through it with him until he’s giving her a real smile, but she doesn’t know where to start or what to say. So she lets her bra drop to the floor and steps close to wrap her arms around him.

His breath hitches against her ear, and one of his broad hands comes up to rest on her bare back. “Two hugs in one day?” he says, his amusement covering up some deeper emotion. “I’m either doing something right or doing something very wrong.”

“No. I’m just feeling appreciative.” Her hand returns to that space between his shoulder blades, the spot that seems to disarm him, and pats him there. She gives herself a solid moment to luxuriate in the warmth and size and hard strength of him before saying, “Get undressed, will you?”

One of his hands squeezes her butt. “You need to get off me first.”

She hums in agreement but doesn’t move—hoping he can feel everything she doesn’t know how to tell him.

***

a/n: i bought my eid dress and it’s so pretty yall 🥺

taglist: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes

#ncssianwrites #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #a favor #nessian fic #nessian au

218 notes · View notes

theshelbyclan · 4 years

Text

The Young Nurse

Summary: When it turns out Finn is more ill than anyone suspected, you don’t know what to do, apart from being practical about it and taking care of him

(Gif by @nofckingfighting) A/N: The amazing @staygold-bebold send me her first request and I’m SO honoured: Hellooo there :) This is my first fic request *smiles shyly* I have this idea in my head for a while now... How about sick!Finn with reader taking care of him? I'm hoping for it to take place between seasons 2 and 3, so he is still soft. (before blinding the Changretta man in s4) Bonus if there can be an innocent cuddle in it! 😊 I love love love the way you portrayed Finn in your fics and how you never write too mushy fics even with fluff in it. Hope this is ok!You are such a wholesome sweetheart, I love this idea. Hope I did it justice! Finn’s fourteen in this one (so season 2) and the reader is of a similar age. Words: 2537

*** “I don’t feel so good…” “What?” you’d asked, but before Finn could answer, he’d fallen down and passed out already.

At first, you had to laugh and you could hear others do the same. Everyone was down at the Garrison to celebrate and Finn had been sneaking whiskey all night. Tommy kept on taking it off of him, but John allowed it. Like it was really his first time drinking whiskey anyways… You were working at the bar. Officially, you were too young for the job, but your mother worked there and you occasionally helped out. Being only fourteen, you did work at the Garrison, but only during daytime, to clean. This is how you and Finn had met and he used to sit with you while you worked, watching and talking. He was a different boy away from his family. You never really talked much, it just wasn’t in your nature. But you could observe and deduce things that others failed to notice. For example, Finn was different with John. He was careful around Arthur, because he was the one to usually tell him to piss off. This annoyed Finn, as he desperately wanted to be seen as a man. With Tommy he was acting tough, trying to prove something, but never quite succeeding. But with John, he was just the little brother. John let him ride horses, let him drink and talked and played around with him. In all honesty, it seemed like Finn could make John forget all he’d seen and done, and allowed him to be a boy once again. So, it was John who’d given him the whiskey. When Finn fell down, you all laughed. Tommy took him back home and sighed deeply, “I fucking told you, didn’t I? And now I’m having to waste my fucking time on you, eh?” You’d seen many men fall down for the drink, but something didn’t feel right. Frowning but not speaking, you decided to keep an eye on your friend. ***

The next day, you went to Polly’s. She told you Finn was still in bed and that you couldn’t see him right now. “What’s wrong with him?” “Finn’s having his first ever hangover!” John called from the kitchen, grinning broadly. But Polly’s face showed some worry, “He’s puking his guts out, that’s for sure, and he can’t hold down any water. It’s the shortness of breath that’s worrying…” “Is he still drinking?” you asked at once. “What do you want with him?” John inquired, “Sit by his bed and hold his hand?” “Just wanted to see if he needs anything…” you mumbled. “Like his girlfriend maybe,” Arthur growled deeply. “I’m not his girlfriend!” you replied indignantly, but immediately you looked down again to hide your blushing. You’d never talked back to any other Shelby than Finn and it scared you. “Leave her alone, Arthur,” Tommy spoke from the shadows, “She’s a good girl, Y/N, sensible. She won’t do anything that isn’t proper or right, eh?” “Y/N,” Polly saved you, “Come back tomorrow. He needs to rest now.” And so you came back the next day, and the next, and the next, always being denied entrance into Finn’s bedroom. His chest pains had gotten worse and he had real trouble breathing now. You were tired of waiting. At home, you had started pacing for fear of the unknown. “What’s the matter with you?” your mother challenged, “You’re never like this. You’re supposed to be the calm one, I’m the agitated and loud one.” She was right. Sometimes you wondered if you and your mother were even related, because you couldn’t be more different. She worked at the bar, talking easily to all men and flirting always. You liked to hide in a corner and passed unnoticed. Your mother preferred the company during work, while you enjoyed the work in silence. Everyone knew your mother, but few even knew she had a kid. Your mother always complained how you were too boring, too practical, too silent, while you just whished for a mother to take care of you, not the other way around… All of this played out in your head, but you didn’t say a word. Then one night, it became too much to bear and you decided to do the bravest thing you had ever done in your short life. Silently, you crept out of your own bed and put on some clothes. While you were making your way out of the house, you saw your own reflection in the mirror, and you faltered. Strictly you said to yourself, “Y/N, stop being a baby. Do you want to go on the rest of your life not mattering to anyone? Finn needs you. Now man up, and go!” So you breathed in deeply and slipped out the front door. That was the easy part done, but now came the difficult part. Standing in front of the Shelby home, you cursed your own sudden courage but decided there was no going back now. Clattering up the drainpipe, you reached the roof of the houses at Watery Lane. Like a cat, without making a sound, you crawled towards the room in which Finn usually slept. Peering in, you saw he was alone: a stroke of luck. Getting the window to open was a lot easier than you’d feared. But what to do now that you were inside? You didn’t have much time to think it over, because Finn suddenly woke up and opened his eyes. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” You blushed again, “I wanted to see you,” you whispered. “How did you get in?” he said in a hushed voice. “I climbed the roof and came in through the window.” “Does Aunt Pol know?” “Obviously not, if I climbed the roof, silly!” you hissed. Finn frowned, “Is this a dream? It’s a dream, isn’t it… I’ve been having the weirdest dreams lately…” You quickly walked over to his bed and knelt down next to it, “I’m really here Finn.” “You climbed the roof,” Finn raised his eyebrows, “Y/N would never climb a roof. Without permission from Aunt Pol. In the middle of the night.” “Well, I did.” “In my dream you did.” “Finn!” you said, a little louder than anticipated, “It’s not a dream!” And you pinched him, “See?” “Ow!” he called out, “That hurt…” He actually looked a little betrayed and hurt, so you had difficulty in stopping yourself from laughing. You managed to hide it though, by taking a cloth from a washing basin and dabbing his head with it. He was burning up and worry took a hold of you. “Y/N?” Finn asked, “What are you doing?” “Taking care of you,” you said matter-of-factly. “Why?” “Well, I can’t imagine your brothers are doing much to help you,” annoyance slipped into your tone. “John’s scared,” Finn said softly, “We lost Martha and he doesn’t like people being ill after that. Tommy thinks it’s just the whiskey, maybe they all do. Arthur was never great with… anything really.” “What about Pol?” you asked, while taking his pulse with two fingers. Finn shrugged a little, “She’s got Michael now.” Full of sympathy, you looked at him. “I’m glad you’re here,” he smiled, “Got bored.” “Your pulse is fast,” you commented, “Have you been drinking enough?” But the two of you were rudely interrupted by someone barging into the room. Polly’s eyebrows rose, she looked like she was about to start yelling, but then motioned for you to follow her. Without a second thought, you obeyed. “Care to tell me what’s been going on?” she demanded once you were downstairs. You were officially scared of her, but answered, “He needs someone to look after him.” “Does he now?” “He’s seriously ill, Polly,” you said, but quickly followed it with, “Sorry, Miss Gray…” And for the second time, Tommy emerged from the shadows, “No need to stand on formal ceremony. How did you get into my house?” “Roof,” you practically trembled. “Jesus Christ…” Polly sighed, “Young love, that’s all we need…” “It’s not about that!” you called out, “He’s actually ailing! And he’s still vomiting after three days, he’s dehydrated, has difficulty breathing, a seriously high fever and his pulse is too fast. I don’t think it’s the whiskey, Mr. Shelby.”

“Not the whiskey, eh?” he slowly lit a cigarette, “Then what is your diagnosis?” “Influenza,” you said at once, “Saw my father die of it.” “And you checked his fever and pulse, you said?” Polly asked, in a much calmer voice now. “Yes, both elevated. He needs medicine,” you said in a practical manner, “I can see if I can get any Ginseng or elderberry, but I can’t get a hold of any other drugs.” “Surely it’s not that serious…” Polly objected. “It is,” you interrupted her, “he needs medicine fast and he needs fluids. He seems fine, but tonight might be critical.”

“Tell me, Y/N, how do you know all of this,” Tommy asked softly, seemingly unaffected by all of this. Again, you blushed, “I want to be a nurse.” “Makes sense,” Polly smirked a little. “I mean, I would like to…” you stumbled, “Can’t, but, I still want to help people…” Tommy understood at once, “If you can save Finn tonight, I’ll pay for your schooling. Now, tell me what I need to get.” Polly turned around and looked at her nephew with big eyes, asking, but not speaking out loud. He did reply however, “Y/N’s the most sensible person I know and she’s only fourteen, Pol. We’re not losing Finn. Let her take care of him.” For a moment, it looked like Polly was about to argue with him again, but then she closed her mouth. After a few seconds of silence, she asked, “What can I do?” “Do you have any green tea?” you grew shy at ordering a woman like Polly Gray about, “Green tea would be good for him…” “Tea,” she repeated and stood up to make some, “Anything else?” “Maybe you could send someone to my mother’s house, because I know she has the elderberry and Ginseng I mentioned.” “I’ll send John,” Tommy nodded and he told you, “Go sit with Finn. Let us know if anything changes.” Suddenly feeling numb, you walked up the stairs again. It was like this little conversation had only just made clear to you in how much danger Finn actually was. And it scared you, because Finn really was your only friend and you needed him. Sitting by his bed, he had lost consciousness again. It was as you had said: this night would be critical. Whenever he did wake a little, you tried pouring some of the green tea into him and luckily he kept it down. Still, his pulse was racing and his fever was blazing. Waiting and praying, you had no idea that downstairs Polly was doing the exact same thing. The next day went by uneventful. It seemed impossible to get him to drink enough, but you never stopped trying, mixing different drugs in with the liquids and teas, hoping it would be enough to save him. Every two hours or so, Tommy came walking up the stairs and when he came into the room, he only asked one question: “Has the danger passed?” You had to keep on disappointing him over and over. When Finn was awake, he ailed. ‘Awake’ was too liberal a term anyways, because you could no longer talk to him and his eyes wouldn’t focus. Sometimes he’d ask for you and when you talked to him and he recognised you voice, he became calm again and drifted off to sleep. “Y/N?” he once asked, “When I die, where will I go?” “Heaven, I suppose…” you muttered, “But you’re not dying, Finn, I won’t allow it. Now, drink this and rest.” “What do you mean, you won’t allow it?” “You’re young and you still have things to do!” you called out. “Like what?” he muttered, “Business? My brothers all think I’m just a kid… useless…” Angrily, you threw the wet cloth on his head again, “Well, I’d miss you. I need someone to talk to while I’m working and that’s you. Now, stop talking about dying.” “Okay,” he whispered, and drifted off again.

Another few hours passed and he wasn’t awake much. Was his fever going down, or were you just imagining it? Maybe it was wishful thinking…

The next time Finn woke up, he was complaining, “I’m cold. Is it cold? Because I’m really cold…”

And the concern was right back, because he was actually sleeping under five blankets already and even though it was Birmingham, it was in fact summer.

“Y/N,” he whined, “I’m really cold…”

“Sweetheart, I don’t know what else to do. Do you want some more tea?”

“That doesn’t help.”

So you decided quickly, “Okay, move. I’m going in.”

His eyes opened a little more in surprise, “In?”

“In the bed,” you clarified, “don’t get excited. I’m warm, boiling actually because of the fire, and I can warm you.”

So here you were, in bed with Finn Shelby. And for the first time, you felt your own pulse quickening.

Of course this was the moment that Tommy chose to check up on Finn again, taking half his family with him. They just stood there and stared.

“He was cold,” you explained meekly.

“Right,” Tommy said, smoking quietly.

“How is he?” Polly asked.

It’d been a few hours since you last checked and when you felt for his pulse, it appeared to have slowed down a little. Also, his head wasn’t feeling as hot as it had been before. He hadn’t vomited for a few hours now and when you looked at him, you saw he was wide awake, with a small smile of satisfaction playing around his lips.

“He doesn’t look unhappy,” John ventured.

“He has no bloody reason to be unhappy,” Arthur added with a grin.

“Tell me,” Tommy said simply.

And you sighed a sigh of relief, “The danger had passed.”

“Better thank your girlfriend, Finn!” John practically cheered.

“I’m not…” you sighed, but you didn’t have the energy to finish that sentence.

“Leave them be,” Polly said in a soft voice, “they both need to rest now.”

“I wouldn’t rest much with my girlfriend in bed…” John continued teasing.

You ground out, for what felt like the 20

time, “Not. His. Girlfriend.”

Finally, everyone left, which took some force on Polly’s part. You looked at Finn and noticed he was getting a bit of colour back into his cheeks already. He’d even complained about being hungry, which was surely a good sign.

“Y/N?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said softly, “what is it?”

“I have a question,” he tried to sit up, but you wouldn’t let him, “Thank you for taking care of me, but why?”

“You’re my friend,” you stated simply.

He shook his head, “No.”

“No?”

He didn’t respond for a while, but then repeated, “Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Just ignore my brothers and whatever they’re saying.”

“They’re wrong,” you smiled, “They don’t even know us.”

“They don’t,” he confirmed and then he was silent for a few moments, fidgeting with the buttons of his pyjama’s.

“Y/N?”

“Finn?”

“I don’t want them to be wrong…”

“What do you mean?” you furrowed your brow while he stared at you with an expectant look.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

***

Masterlist

752 notes · View notes