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rosedpetal · 17 days

Text

Behave

Summary: Bucky shows you what happens when you test him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: smut.

Minors, do not interact.

Masterlist

You didn't mean to be so overbearing, but you just loved him so much.

"Doll, you have to stop giving the stinky eye to these women. It's getting embarrassing." He whispered on your ear, his grip tightening just a little bit on your arm as he smiled for the people schmoozing at Tony's gala event. "Seriously, when did you get so jealous?"

"Jealous?" You scoff, adjusting the skirt of your long dress, softening the slightly wrinkled fabric. "Barely. I just wish you didn't look so smug with all those single bitches fawning over you."

"In my time, we used to call them spinsters." Bucky raised his eyebrow at you.

"Well, that's just sexist."

"And calling them bitches is not?"

Your glare made him shut his mouth, a little smirk threatening to tug at the corner of his lips.

"I get it, okay? I'm being too much. It's just that I'm so obsessed with you. Why can't I just be one of those wives who barely wait for their husbands to drop dead?" You sighed, adjusting his tie.

He chuckles, a low rumble reverberating through his chest. He trapped your chin between his thumb and index finger, amused at you. "You're crazy, you know that? But it's okay. Your psycho side is almost as cute as your clingy and needy one."

You roll your eyes. "Gotta admit, though. You looked really hot over there talking to them and signing autographs and all. If I didn't want to stab your guts off, I'd be horny... " You paused. "Okay. I'm horny either way."

"Behave." Bucky hissed, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to the two of you. At the sound of your little crazed giggle, he snapped his head back to you. "How much have you had to drink, by the way?"

"I didn't drink that much. I don't know what's taken over me, okay? You're just... Ugh!" You groaned, and Bucky blinked, a little taken aback. "You're hot. Are you taken?" You playfully bat your eyelashes at him and he chuckles.

"Well, I do have a wife. But she's quite small, so I think you can take me from her if you want to." He smirked, rubbing circles on the small of your back.

"Ugh, you're married? I bet she's a fucking witch."

Bucky shakes his head, getting his lips close to your ear. "Honestly... My wife is quite crazy. Sometimes I'm scared at how unhinged she can be when she's jealous."

"Is she hot, though?"

"Oh... She's so hot. Just thinking of her has me feeling all types of way... But she's also quite needy. It gets on my fucking nerves. I swear, that woman could drop on her knees to beg for my attention."

"Is begging the only good thing she can do on her knees, though?" You purr.

Bucky checks again for any nosy listeners, relaxing a bit as he realizes you're too are safe.

"Well... She also prays really well, just like a good girl should."

Your could feel your gaze becoming a little unfocused, your core warming up. "I wanna choke you so bad."

Bucky's face and neck turn a little red. "Jesus, baby. What has gotten into you tonight? Is it all because I dressed up?"

"Maybe. Do you think it's possible for humans do go into heat?"

"Oh. I don't know, are you?"

"Breed me. Breed me. Breed me." You chanted on his ear, and his grip on your hips tightened almost painfully.

"Stop right this second." He hisses. "I do not need this right now. Are you trying to get me hard in public, you little shit?"

"Is it working?"

"You're going to pay for this."

"Are you gonna give me your belt tonight?"

"Y/N-"

"What? Is this too kinky for you? Is the idea of marking my ass with your leather belt too much for your poor brain to handle right now, baby?"

Bucky closes his eyes, fists clenching on his sides. Then, he grabs you by your waist, pulling you to the nearest room he could find.

He swiftly unlocks the door, assessing the small supply closet you two are in. It's not ideal, but it'll be enough. His hand fly to your throat, pressing on it slightly, eyes darkened with desire, his slacks tight and uncomfortable. "Filthy little tease. You enjoy riling me up, don't you? Do you think you'll get away with this little stunt you just pulled, huh?"

His vibranium hand snakes under your dress through the slit on your thigh, his eyes darkening at how soaked your underwear is. "Tsk. Does being a little slut make you wet, baby?"

You whimper, completely overtaken by lust, his digits teasing your clothed clit. "You can try to give me shit for misbehaving, but you love how obsessed I am with you, isn't that right? You crave my attention. You thrive on how needy I can get for you."

Bucky's eyes darken, the beautiful expansion of his blue irises only getting noticed by you by the moonlight reflecting through the small window.

"You're giving me fucking butterflies, Bucky. What the fuck? Wasn't that supposed to stop after we got married?" Your brows furrow, your indignant tone making a little snicker escape him. He hooks his finger on the waistband of your panties, a sharp tug being enough to rip your underwear.

"I didn't vow to bore you 'til death do us part, doll. I'll never stop making you feel this way." He whispered, gaze softening at you. Time seemed to stop as he inched closer to you, lips brushing against your red painted ones. "I fucking love you, you unhinged little thing."

"Love you too, baby." Your eyes close shut, mouth hanging open as he fingers you in the supply closet, swallowing your moans with his tongue, bucking his hips on your hand as you palm him through the straining fabric.

Reaching down, you swiftly undo his slacks, pulling them low enough just to free his twitching cock, guiding the thick head to your entrance.

With how lubricated you are, he only has to spit on his cock and moisten the length with his hand, a low growl leaving his mouth as he sink on your heat, inch by inch.

There's a moment of silence as you two lock eyes, your weeping pussy welcoming him with a tight grip that he swears it makes him harden, if that's even possible.

Your head falls back with the first shallow thrusts, a small gasp leaving your lips. Bucky's gritting his teeth, pulling you up, your legs wrapping around his middle. Then, he slams into you.

You can't even speak, getting your walls bullied repeatedly by your husband's thick cock. "F-fuck! Bucky, ohmygod, wait!"

He smirks, not slowing down a second. "I told you were gonna pay for being a menace tonight. What's the problem, baby? What happened to the slut who told me to breed her just a few minutes ago? Where is she? Huh?" He circles his hips, buried deep inside you, making you see white. He swats your thigh, his voice rough. "Answer me."

A little, humiliating whine escapes you, and he chuckles again.

"See, baby? How I can fuck the brat out of you? How you should think before riling me up? How you can't back up for your little antics?" His vibranium thumb circles your clit, the coolness of it only serving to make you orgasm quicker.

Bucky moans at your walls clamping violently on him, a grip so deliciously tight it makes him wanna pull his own hair. So he tugs hard at your locks instead, exposing your neck for his greedy lips as he comes inside you.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #buck barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic

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xiaowhore · 1 year

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hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry!

premise. in which you manage to make neuvillette feel better at the expense of your dignity. (a fair trade, really.)

word count. 1.5k

note. do umbrellas exist at teyvat. i really don't know.

You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to dramatically brood in the rain when he gets sad, but to be fair, you don't know much about him at all.

You clutch onto your umbrella, contemplating. So, uh... Are you supposed to approach him now? Shield him from the rain with your umbrella? That doesn't sound too bad, actually. But then what? Ask him if his pet fish died and now he's mourning his loss? That's hardly appropriate to say to the Chief of Justice... But it would be creepier to just stand there without saying anything, right?

You could leave and pretend you didn't see anything. Of course, that's an option too. It's possible he prefers to be left alone when he's unhappy.

But sulking while standing in the rain just gives “I want someone's attention” vibes, doesn't it?!

With a fit of reckless courage and a “fuck it” mindset, you advance your way forward to where he stands.

Regretting something as soon as you do it is on-brand for you, you realize as you soon come to learn you have to be on the tip of your toes to have the umbrella barely raising over his head instead of hanging from him. You must make a pathetic sight, attempting to shield both yourself and this hulking tower of a man from the rain with a tiny umbrella.

“...What are you doing?” Neuvillette turns around, taken aback when you're in much closer proximity than he expected. Panic flares in his eyes, and like the gentleman that he is, he steps back to create some distance. His head presses against the edge of the umbrella.

“Hey, you shouldn't move away!” You follow his movements, closing the gap. His head is now safely within the umbrella's reach, but you're an inch away from being pressed up against his chest. “I miscalculated. This thing's too small for us.”

When the initial shock wears off, his shoulders slump, a sign of him lowering his guard. “If you know that much, you should use it for yourself and go home.”

That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Appealing, even. You've never felt so silly in your entire life and the option to run away is looking more enticing with each second that ticks by.

Still.

“It's dangerous to walk alone at this hour. Won't you accompany me, sir?”

...Not the best excuse you could've come up with, but your mouth runs faster than your brain. Neuvillette, being the considerate person he is, actually takes some time to think about it, and you hurry to say, “If you leave me alone now, you could have another disappearance case in your hands tomorrow. Would you really like more work on your desk rather than some company tonight?”

He gives you a long, suffering stare that looks suspiciously like the one he gives to Lady Furina when she disappoints him, but he doesn't say no. His hand wraps around the umbrella handle, overlapping with your fingers. It takes another two seconds of that stare before you get the message and you let go, finally able to rest the balls of your feet on the ground as you stand on normal footing.

“I hope you don't make a hobby of coercion,” he hums as you walk together, your shoulders brushing every so often. “Or else I'd see you as a criminal suspect tomorrow instead of a victim.”

“I see that jokes aren't your strong suit, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You laugh awkwardly, your nervousness spiking to an all-time high throughout your entire interaction with him. It's been barely ten minutes.

Silence ensues.

“Do you like showers, sir?”

You should've just kept your mouth shut, damn it.

“I like them the same amount as the average person, I suppose.” The ridiculous question doesn't phase him, and you don't know how he's able to keep a straight face while saying that.

You decide to push your luck. “...Do you prefer bathing with cold or hot water?”

Finally, you draw out a light chuckle from him, the sound deep and pleased. It almost makes playing the fool worth it. “I've been told I'm not the best with small talk, but you seem to be worse than I am.”

Your head snaps up to look at him, affronted. “It wasn't a bad question!”

“Certainly not as bad as talking about the weather. Do you want me to praise you?”

Was the Chief Justice always this sassy? “You're making fun of me,” you point out the obvious, turning away and crossing your arms. “I asked about showers because you were standing in the rain.”

“You thought I liked showers because I was in the rain?”

“Well, I didn't know for sure. That's why I asked.” Even you can tell you're sounding more and more ridiculous by the minute. Was your house always this far? You can't wait to dive to your bed and pretend this encounter never happened. “I think I'll just shut up now.”

“Really, now?”

“Every time I open my mouth around you, I embarrass myself further. I think it's for the best.”

You hear another chuckle as heat crawls up to your cheeks, spreading to your ears. “For what it's worth, you did put me out of my terrible mood. You're quite funny.”

“That's a nice way to say you think I'm being strange.” You hide your face with your hands, peeking at Neuvillette's expression between your fingers. Bathed in the silvery moonlight, he looks straight out of a painting, even with wet hair and drenched clothes.

You've never seen him up close, never even dreamed of standing next to him. Now, you're exchanging jabs at each other like it's the most normal thing in the world, like you weren't just thinking he was someone out of reach when you watched his court trial in amazement. Now, he's so close that you can almost feel the heat from his body, so much more tangible than just a figure you admired from afar.

“But I do have your strangeness to thank,” he admits, looking off into the distance. The stars shine bright in his eyes. “Had it not been for you squeezing me under your umbrella and forcing me to walk you home, I'd surely still be under the rain.”

“...Couldn't you have phrased that better?”

“In court, I only state facts.”

You laugh dryly. “You could spare me some dignity by embellishing the story a bit... Oh, we're here.” You were so occupied defending yourself from his witty comments that you didn't realize you had already arrived home until your door was right at your face. You glance at Neuvillette, who then nods towards the door. If he's disappointed to have the stroll cut short, he doesn't show it.

“Go in. It is rather late.” He closes the umbrella and offers it back to you, a gentle smile on his face. The sight is almost like a reward for your efforts; the small upturn of the corners of his lips makes all the difference, his sharp, cold gaze softening into something more affectionate. The rainbow after the storm. The gratitude for a small kindness.

“You have to get home, too,” you utter, pushing it back to him.

“The rain stopped a few minutes ago,” he insists, gesturing behind him. You blink owlishly, observing the still pools of rainwater. You didn't even notice. Why didn't he say so? You didn't have to squeeze together under such a tiny umbrella, then.

“You should still keep it.”

He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive. “Why?”

You unlock your door, stepping inside, but still not closing it shut. “Well, it gives you an incentive to see me again.” You grin at him mischievously, like you thought of a genius plan. “I work at the cafe in the main street. I'm sure we have some tea that will strike your fancy. Make sure you're not moping next time we meet, yeah?”

Not for the first time, he seems taken aback. But his gaze softens once more, his expression molding into something pleased. “Very well.”

And so, he leaves with a small umbrella in his hand, a smile on his lips, and the clear skies over his head.

The next time you see Neuvillette, the sun is high in the sky. Compared to that night, you can see him a little better now.

That's how you notice he looks unusually shy with a bouquet of flowers in his arms and a pink blush high on his cheeks. “...Good afternoon,” he starts, his lips curving to a beginning of a smile. “The weather is great today, isn't it?”

You stare. You stare some more. And when the sight finally processes in your mind, your twinkling laughter rings in the air, as sweet as the aroma of freshly baked muffins. “And who stooped so low to talk about the weather this time, huh?”

Neuvillette can't even pretend to feel bad about it, not when you're jumping off the seat in the counter to show him a table for two. “Your silliness is infectious, it seems.”

“Hey!”

(You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to be smart-mouthed, the type to be indulgent to your whims, the type to be romantic towards the person he's interested in—

But now you have all the time in the world to get to know him better.)

#neuvillette x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact scenarios #neuvillette #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette x you #genshin impact x you

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bettysupremacy · 8 months

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hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭

I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(

you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!

thank uu

i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!

There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.

Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.

“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.

His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.

“Sirius.”

He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”

“M’hungry.”

“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.

“So hungry.”

He sighs, unsure of what to do.

“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.

He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.

“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.

He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?

“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”

“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.

The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.

You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”

It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.

“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”

“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.

You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.

“You new around here?”

An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”

He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”

“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”

“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”

“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“

“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”

“No,” the man scoffs.

“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”

He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”

“Well, conversations over now.”

“She can make her own decisions.”

“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.

“She was asking for it.”

Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.

James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.

Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.

“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”

You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”

He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”

“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.

He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.

“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”

He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.

“You do.” James feeds Sirius.

“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”

“You look good.”

“Oh, now you tell me.”

You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.

“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.

“That was stupid.”

“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”

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lyneira · 2 years

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♡ falling asleep on their shoulder ♡

-> how they would react if you ended up falling asleep on their shoulder

lyneira's 1.2k milestone event

Will be a bit annoyed (at first)

Leona, Ace, Jack

They'd wanna wake you up, gently nudging you, "oi, my shoulder isn't for you to sleep on", but seeing how fast asleep you were and seeing how adorable your resting face was had them giving in.

I feel like Leona would be inclined to sleep as well, eyelids growing heavy and his head occasionally leaning on yours, but he would try to keep himself awake because he didn't want anyone to disturb you. If anyone walked in making a ruckus, he'd shoot them a glare and quietly tell them to shut up lol.

When you wake up, these dudes would definitely be like, "Finally awake, sleepyhead? Well you owe me one for drooling all over my shoulder". Apologize all you want, the only acceptable payment he'll take is your love and affection, particularly in the form of a kiss, hehe 😘

Wouldn't really know what to do

Idia, Deuce, Epel, Ruggie

They'd probably freeze up when they've realized you've just fallen asleep on their shoulder. Should they wake you up? Should they just let you rest on them? They wouldn't know what to do. While they don't want to disturb you, knowing how tired you must have been, the longer you leaned on them, the more they would observe your lovely, peaceful visage, note the warmth radiating from your body as you were clinging onto their arm, and just wouldn't be able to handle the adoration that they felt for you overwhelm them. They would feel their heart rate go up and feel their cheeks grow hotter as you held them closer in your sleep. He wasn't used to being in close contact with you for such long periods of time after all.

Sleeps along with you

Floyd, Cater, Kalim, Che'nya, Silver

He's going to lean his head on yours and fall asleep too. He doesn't plan on waking you up and would feel too bored just sitting there that he decides he might as well sleep. I think it would become a routine between you both. The moment he feels your head weigh down on his shoulder, he'll stop whatever he was doing and would grin, "I guess it's nap time for me too!!", and then sleep. Let's be real, he probably uses it as an excuse to slack off, yet, at the same time, he truly enjoyed moments like these where he could simply rest and be so close to you.

Before sleeping, I can totally see Cater taking a selfie of you sleeping with him waving a peace sign and captioning it, "Nap time~!"

Is as happy as can be

Rook, Malleus, Lilia, Neige

When he feels the weight of your head resting on his shoulder and sees you asleep, they are over the moon for you. They're just so happy to know that you're this comfortable and relaxed enough around them, that their hearts are all a flutter. He's so tempted to scoop you up in his arms and let you rest there, holding you close to their chest, but seeing how peaceful you already look right now, he chooses to keep still. Though, if you subconsciously nuzzle your face into his shoulder, he's gonna want to kiss you right then and there. You're just. Too. CUTE!!! 😤💘

And if you do end up waking up because of it, he'll apologize but will be thankful deep down because now, he'll take this chance to let you sleep in his arms instead, where he can keep you close, safe and protected in his warm embrace, kissing your forehead as you again fall asleep, "Rest well, my love. I'll be here for you when you wake up"

Will wake you up

Vil, Jamil, Rollo, Sebek

Yes, these guys will wake you up especially if they had things to do, but will do so politely (excluding Sebek, he'll be loud asf) and with good intentions. If you're this tired, then he suggests that you lay down and sleep in your bed. Y'know, so you can be more comfortable, and the last thing he wants is you getting a stiff neck from sleeping on his shoulder.

Yet, if you insist enough that you want to sleep with him near you, then he'll oblige by either letting you lay your head on his lap or by carrying you to your room and sleeping beside you. In the case that he sleeps beside you, when he sees you've finally succumbed to sleep, he'll try to slip out to continue his work. But once your hand instinctively reaches out to grab his sleeve and mutter his name, he stops, and resigns himself to laying beside you again, huffing, "oh boy, what am I gonna do with you..?" , while softly caressing your cheek with his thumb. He tries, but he simply can't resist you.

Won't be bothered at all

Azul, Riddle, Jade, Trey

If it was possible, he would simply continue what he was doing, albeit more subtle and quieter now. You sleeping on their shoulder wasn't bothersome to him. He found it quite endearing actually.

He liked the contact and for you to be vulnerable like this with him, he doesn't want to ruin the moment. You are now under his care. And he'll ensure that no one disturbs you and that you're able to lean on him comfortably. I think he'd feel free to show more affection towards you now that you were asleep. He'd kiss the top of your head, and probably keep his hand on your thigh or on top of yours, gently rubbing circles on your skin as he continues his task. If any strands of hair were covering your face, he'd promptly move it away so that he'd be able to thoroughly admire you, smiling because of how fortunate he feels to be with you.

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try-set-me-on-fire · 4 months

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Tagged by @doeeyeseddie and @eddiebabygirldiaz for seven sentence Sunday! Since I haven’t been posting much for tag games lately, here’s significantly more sentences than that from bucktommy acquire a child au. Warning for mentions of past child abuse in Tommy’s family.

Tommy stares down at the dotted line, pen hovering, running the name through his head over and over again and feeling kind of stupid for it. There’s no meaningful difference, at this point, between this last signature and any other of the seemingly dozens of pieces of paper they’ve signed tonight. Nothing really counts until Buck hands it over to the lawyer on his way to work tomorrow. He could sign and then tear the thing up, toss it in the trash. Find someone better to take this on. Take his name out of it, at the very least, hand the kid over to Evan entirely.

Evan, sitting next to him close enough that their knees are pressed tougher, bony, under the table. “What are you thinking?”

Tommy sighs and sets the pen down, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Can’t we just use… I don’t know, Diaz? I don’t want to give the poor kid my name.”

Buck laughs, just a little, still mostly serious. “I mean, I’m sure Eddie’d say yes if we asked, but- You gave me your name, why’s it a problem now?”

Tommy slides his fingers between Buck’s, surprised as he always is at how well they fit together. “You’re an adult, you can- handle it, carry it. Kinard children have historically been miserable things.”

Evan tilts his head, probably thinking about what Tommy is thinking about: Tommy, beat by his dad who was beat by his dad who was beat by- etc, etc, going back the entire horrible line of them. He’s imagined it before, some medieval peasant kid somewhere, crying into a hay bale or whatever the fuck it is poor folk slept on back then. Evan’d probably know. Maybe farther back than that. A caveman all the other cavemen side-eyed ‘cause he threw his kid in the path of a sabertooth or something.

“Okay,” is what Evan says. “I could get all pop psychology about, like, breaking cycles or whatever, but actually-” he points down the hall. “When I put him to bed tonight he talked literally right up until he was unconscious about all the stuff we saw at the zoo today, that I was in fact there for. Passed out mid word about how we got ice cream and saw a bird. Just a regular bird, that pigeon that landed on the table next to us. I think he was as excited about that as he was about, like, actual lions.”

Tommy laughs, despite his mood. “He was excited about the pigeon.” Milo had been so fascinated by it his ice cream had mostly melted by the time they could successfully prompt him to eat it.

Buck grins. “That kid- our kid- is happy, Tommy. Another talking point? How you carried him everywhere. He got to be so tall, he said you showed him everything.”

“I always hated being too short to see past crowds of people,” Tommy says quietly. “All those legs, everybody strangers.”

“I think most kids hate that,” Buck nods. He leans in to kiss Tommy’s cheek. “You’re not having second thoughts about this?”

“No,” Tommy says, immediate, breathy like it got punched out of him. “No. More than sure.”

Evan nods again. “He’s happy, and safe, and loved because of you. Sign the paper. It’s just a name, and one that I like very much actually.”

“Just a name,” Tommy raises an eyebrow. “So you would’ve been fine with him becoming a Buckley if we had done this the other way?”

“Oh, fuck no,” Buck says, face twisting up lemon-sour as Tommy laughs.

“You hypocrite.”

“Hey, you should have come up with a new name when you married me,” Buck sticks his tongue out, leaning back in his chair like a pleased cat. “Combined them maybe? We could have been… the Binards?”

Tommy squints at him. “No.”

“The Kuckleys?”

“Evan,” Tommy snorts. “No- that’s terrible.”

Buck grins. “Yeah. We really should have just asked Eddie. All be Diazes, it’d fix everything.”

“Imagine the kid’s family tree project at school,” Tommy says, picking up the pen, signing his name as fast as he can before doubt creeps back in. “We’re gonna have to teach him the words ‘non-conventional family structure’.”

Buck laughs and laughs, leaning into Tommy’s side until he kisses up the sound.

Tagging @shitouttabuck @bigfootsmom @iinryer @chronicowboy @butchdiaz @homerforsure if ya got anything to share!

#seven sentence sunday #tag games #a harder kind of fear

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bsverryin · 1 year

Text

: ̗̀➛ Grumpy X Sunshine trope with HSR men.

Who?

╰┈➤ Jing yuan, Gepard, Dan Heng, Blade

Situation?

╰┈➤ Who's the grumpy and the sunshine in your relationship.

✎ HEADCANONS ONLY!! I missed writing and I love blade so much I wanna cry 🥹🥹 I'm gonna be v busy really soon so I'll probably just write to warm up thank you so much for 100+ followers hruajdja it feels surreal to get followers by writing it makes me so happy thank youuu I appreciate it 🫶 Cannot assure you of perfect grammar, enjoy !

: ̗̀➛ JING YUAN

Jing yuan is the sunshine, you're the grumpy. Until now, you still haven't figured why Jing yuan loves you so much despite your grumpy attitude.

There are times where he says "I love you" when you're in a bad mood and you never say it back, of course you won't say It first any other time or moment. It's always true when other people gossip about how Jing yuan is the only person who can handle you because you're not good with his people because of your grumpy attitude.

When you're being grumpy with other people he'll squeeze your hand and give you an innocent smile trying to give you a sign to be nice. Other people are well-aware of your attitude because they would always try to talk to you about the general, but most of the time you'll respond by giving them a death glare or rolling your eyes but when you're with Jing yuan and then they ask you the same question, you'll sigh and say how much you love your lover.

: ̗̀➛ DAN HENG

Dan heng is the grumpy, you're the sunshine. How can he not be the grumpy type when you're always teasing him about almost everything? It's only natural for him to sigh all the time, be quiet, give you side eyes when you're talking to him.

Dan heng acts like he's not interested but you really kept him deeply invested, he can't survive a day without hearing you whine or even talk. He plays with your hair when he's bored and you're reading a book.

He can't get enough of you, not all the time he is grumpy. Dan heng has a soft side for you and every night he'd sneak out of his bed to go in your room just because he misses you a little extra today, he'd never say that instead he says "I just want to spend the night with you." then he'll sleep peacefully in your chest. There are times where you end up getting caught by the other astral express member sleeping together, Dan heng kept quiet (trying his best to hide his smile) whenever you talk about how it felt really safe and comfortable around him with the other members.

: ̗̀➛ GEPARD

Gepard is the sunshine, you're the grumpy. He thinks that your grumpy attitude is really cute instead of annoying, he loves joking around with you because you'd give him death glares and sometimes pinching his arms.

Gepard loves seeing you smile, he tries his best to not keep you grumpy (he doesn't know that you have a soft side for him) You'd tell him that it's impossible for you to not be grumpy when everyone else is annoying excluding him. He'd laugh and respond with compliments like "you're beautiful" and you're not even talking about that.

Everyone thinks that Gepard is really nice and so they thought that his lover SHOULD be nice too but then when they get to know you as gepard's lover they ended up being disappointed and think that gepard deserves better, it was because you didn't have a great attitude. Gepard isn't the type to stand back and just listen, he'll confront them and tell them that they clearly haven't seen your good side and that you're a really beautiful person inside and out, you'd smile whenever he defends you and he feels the happiest when he sees you smile like that.

: ̗̀➛ BLADE

Blade is the grumpy, you're the sunshine. Blade being the grumpy is expected, He's not trying to be the grumpy type. He is the word grumpy itself.

for blade, showing emotions is not that important in a relationship and being together is already enough but he'll never forgive himself if he makes you quiet or sad because he loves it when you're talking whether it's a gossip or you're just telling him some funny stories about yourself, you'd never fail to make him smile or laugh whenever you do.

There's always a situation where you try to make him call you sweet common relationship nicknames like my love or baby. You'd tell him pick-up lines and he'd always fall for it, he sighs and replies with "That's a good one, little brat" That was what he ended up calling you for the rest of your relationship. It was much better to have this kind of relationship with him where you're both wild and free. Even if he's grumpy most of the time, you don't have to worry when problems occur because he'll do all the work to maintain the relationship and make you happy in his own ways.

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marigold-hills · 4 months

Text

june 4: wildfire | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 626

PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART • FIRST PART

Remus says: “take me to bed.”

Remus say take me to bed and Sirius remembers a trip to France when he was a child, the summer air during a drought, sharp and heavy and dense enough to blanket him, and then, a week later, watching a wildfire ravage through the forest. This is the spark, Sirius thinks.

He was safe within the Manor’s wards, but the fire was a savage, hungry thing and it ate the horizon. Sirius was a wild child then, and he is wild still, and the desire to go outside and feel the burn on his skin hasn’t changed.

“I’ve finished my dissertation,” he admits, not ready for this golden moment between them to end and coming clean about the little omission is easier than facing new thoughts.

(Remus says that’s amazing, Sirius. He says good job, congratulations.)

“And I… um… tattoo.”

“You got a tattoo?” Remus reads into the jumbled words, frowns, “why didn’t you say? You’ve been going on about it all year.”

Sirius is wearing an oversized Queen T-shirt he likes to sleep in. The hem is loose. Makes it easy to lift up above his torso. Down the middle of his breastbone, exposing more than skin: the sign of the alchemical Great Wolf and below it seven intricate moons, waxing and waning.

“You… you didn’t say that’s what you were getting.”

Remus doesn’t blink, not once. Takes in the ink like reading a book – top to bottom, careful eyes. Reaches out to touch each symbol in turn, one by one, his fingers holding the same reverence Sirius has seen in him when handling ancient texts. They’re keeping his place, marking where he is on the page. For one mad moment Sirius wants the mark to be permanent.

“Why, Sirius?” Remus asks as if Sirius knew the answer. He doesn’t say Pads or Padfoot or “you great big mangy dog” as he does usually, he says Sirius and that’s how they both know it’s important.

And Sirius wants to answer – wants to give the right answer - but he can’t because he doesn’t know. Only knows this: he was there, with the money ready, and the man with the tattoo gun asked what will it be? and out of the window, out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw the moon and said: this. This is what I want to touch me for the rest of my life, this is what I want to carve into my skin.

And while the ink was being needled into him, it quietened the need he has to bite and keep, to hurt.

And now, Remus’ careful fingers meld it together and satisfy the part of him which wants to be soft and gentle, sweet.

“Sirius?” Remus prods when he doesn’t answer. Splays his hand so that it lays flat across the tattoo, and has Moony always had hands this large? Has the rough edge of his fingers, from years of using a quill, always felt like that?

It must have because this is Moony – their Moony, his Moony - but it couldn’t because Sirius never once has been rendered quiet by a simple touch before. There have been so many over the years, in the Shack, after Quidditch, in the Lake, at nights filled with nightmares. Always the same hands, and yet.

Sirius let’s go of the hem of his shirt and grabs onto the hand on his chest, presses it closer into his skin like he could push it through to touch his heart (it’s beating now, so fast, so, so hard). He wants more and he wants to understand, and he’ll give into both the urges. For as long as Remus will let him.

Remus, eyes wide, lets him.

NOTES:

This is part 4! There will be 30. I suggest reading in order for the full experience but they also should work as standalone.

Don’t do this in the library. If you must, I suppose 2am is a good time.

I’ve changed Sirius’ tattoo from how it was in the movies. Originally the symbol he has on the very top is for amalgamation and here I went with antimony because it signifies the great wolf and I like the idea of that. The symbols are actually very similar looking. If you remember part one, this one goes back to the dissertation he’s writing.

not sure if I should add smut to this. Thoughts?

@moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash @sweetstarryskies

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged in next parts)

#remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #marauders #dead gay wizards #fanfic #microfiction #remus x sirius #marauders era

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obeythebutler · 2 years

Note

Could you write the Dateables protecting MC? :)

Dateables Protecting MC

WARNING: Violence, Spoilers for all the characters.

DIAVOLO

You're supposed to be safe here, Diavolo affirms.

He had R.A.D. established right in his domain, in his capital, so that demons could be civilised (at least according to human rules of morality) and some familiarity could be achieved.

Every professor in this institution had been nitpicked, each student noted on paper. Appropriate measures taken to ensure safety—no fighting, no ragging, no running around unnecessarily—but what can you expect from demons.

It's hard to keep nature bound in chains.

What Diavolo didn't fathom was that some demons would have the temerity to lay a hand on the human exchange student.

His eyebrows furrow as he stops, a reticent smile still on his face. The students in front of him freeze; in the middle of having their academic documents signed by him.

"Please excuse me," He says, looking down at the demons. "I have a meeting to attend right now. Give the documents to Barbatos, and I'll stamp them by tomorrow." The students nod, bowing before leaving the room.

Although he should wait at least long enough so that they are out of sight to avoid suspicion, Diavolo can't wait, won't wait—

The safety perimeters around the campus have been breached.

Normally Barbatos or Lucifer would have taken care of such a situation, but Lucifer is back home and his butler is currently torturing a painfully arrogant noble in the Underground Labyrinth.

And it's Diavolo's magic which had formed the protective barriers, so that the Prince would know the affairs going around his academy. If it were ordinary demons he would have ignored the warnings and let the Council Members handle it, but it's a human which has breached the boundaries.

And there's only one mortal human in the Devildom. Solomon would have teleported, not blatantly ignored the infernal magic in the air.

The students lingering in the hallway step aside when they see their Prince walking with a sense of urgency to him. Diavolo knows they will gossip about him later, rumours will spread, but when they have not?

He only hopes you are unharmed.

He rushes past the gardens, disturbing the soil and the plants there. Devildom canaries, which normally would have produced the melody that the President of the Student Council loved to listen to are absent.

From what he's taught and what he knows, silence is ominous.

The forest behind the academy constricts on itself, as if wanting to hide away itself from outsiders. Still, Diavolo ignores, and forces the branches to wring away from each other and for the dense foliage to give way.

Or else he will burn the place to the ground.

You stumble on the the uneven ground, finding that the wind isn't enough to protect you against fire. Damn those demon, you grit your teeth and resume enforcing your boundary, careful to not any of the flames singe your clothes, so flammable.

The being in front of you sneers before breaking the boundaries that you had just enforced.

Fuck.

Hastily you deflect the demon's attack, but the spell drains much of your human energy, and you fall on the stones below.

"I'd suggest you go back from whichever came you crept out from," You mutter, noticing the soil that clings to the demon's hands and legs. "Besides, things might not end well for you."

"Says the pathetic human dragging themselves on the earth."

He advances further, and your heartbeat quickens when you realise just how sharp his nails are. It reminds you of talons, like that one time you watched a human-world documentary with your demons about an eagle tearing into the flesh of a fish with their talons.

He swipes at you, and you manage to get up and turn in time to avoid a lethal blow, but you underestimate his agility.

The demon's foot collides into your back, and the force of it makes you fall flat on the ground. You groan, the pain intensified with your head banging on one of the rocks.

"Weak, pathetic human," He hums above you, and when you open your mouth to cast an incantation that will make your attacker be thrown two-hundred leagues into the vast forest, he steps on your leg.

Fuck. It hurts, it hurts, it fucking hurts—

There's a weight above you, and the fiend has now placed himself above you, and unfortunately for you demon biology dictates that demons be faster, stronger and heavier.

"Should have known better than to wander into the forest all alone," He mutters, and you feel his breath on your neck. "Lost, little lamb. Foolish human."

He sits up, his weight constricting your chest, rendering you unable to breathe properly.

"Where did your pacts go now, huh?" The demon taunts, scraping his nails against your back, and it draws blood. You hiss. "Where did the Avatars go now?"

Your hands come in contact with rocks. Small, jagged pieces, and you don't waste a moment further before throwing it above you.

From what you can deduce, one of the pieces has hit him right in an eye, given the way he spits and curses. "Insolent human!" A curse, and the sound of a snarl makes your blood run cold.

All words leave you in that moment. You freeze, expecting teeth to tear into your throat, but instead you feel the demon being hauled off your back.

"And to think one of my nobles would betray me this way."

A familiar voice, and when you are able to turn and be grateful to be able to breathe properly once again, you look up and see the fiend hanging in the air.

Diavolo, you can't help but mumble.

The demon's face is starting to turn pale, given the way the Prince is gripping him by his neck effortlessly. He struggles and kicks, but it's futile.

You've never seen Diavolo so angry before. The calm veneer he usually had has disappeared, replaced by furrowed brows and an anger that makes you tremble in fear.

Even the forest, which had seemed so constricting and so secretive earlier has opened up, as if for the rightful heir of the Devildom. Or maybe that's just his magic.

"You dare harm them?" A threat and a question, and you think you hear bones cracking.

But then Diavolo throws him down, rendering such a blow that the demon is rendered unconscious, lying haphazardly on the forest floor.

The Prince breathes in deeply, as if trying to contain his anger, and then he turns to you.

"Did he hurt you?"

"Was about to," You say, getting up with Diavolo's help. "Thanks," You say, as if it's a normal day in your life to be attacked by demons, but hey, that's what your life was in the House of Lamentation when you first came here.

You can't be blamed for being indifferent to some violence and threats on your life.

"How did you find me?" You ask as he checks you over for any injuries that may have gone unnoticed by you. "I thought I was sneaky."

"At the wrong time and at the wrong place." Diavolo breathes out, and you notice how his shoulders sag. "Certainly, a forest of all places to cause mischief? You could have been injured or killed."

"I know, Dia, I know," You say, dusting off dirt from your clothes. "I thought I was safe here."

"Well, a forest is not exactly a safe place to be in," He chastises, but places a hand on your shoulder all the same. "Why didn't you call for the brothers?"

You turn away, embarassed.

"Didn't want to appear weak," You pout, not quite able to meet his eyes. "But I think I should have—"

"What could have happened to you if I hadn't come on time?" Diavolo questions, and his tone is serious. Gone is the friendliness you're accustomed to from him. "Why did you sneak away?"

"I'm sorry. I just wanted a moment to myself, and there are so many restrictions as to where I can go about in the Devildom, I just wanted some peace." You apologise, hugging the demon. "I'll be more careful next time."

Diavolo breathes out, and then there are his own arms enveloping you, until you're pressed against him.

"I apologise too," A sincere apology, squeezing you softly.

There's only so much Diavolo can do too. He can enforce rules, regulations, punishments, but in the end, you can't change the perceptions of others so easily now, can you?

And Diavolo wants to be a just ruler. Unlike his father, who spurred by grief and hatred made his son what he is today, but Diavolo did not turn out like his father. The Prince doesn't want to repeat the sins of his predecessors.

He will work towards unifying the three realms, he affirms. He will work towards a world where you can roam around safe, where he and you can exist peacefully.

Diavolo vows as he holds you close.

And blame it on nature, but the demon can't help but drift his gaze towards the unconscious demon on the floor. Given lex talionis in Devildom law, it is only fair that a special chamber in the Underground Labyrinth be prepared for the perpetrator of such a grave offence.

BARBATOS

When the butler had embarked upon another pilgrimage to the port market, he was expecting to purchase some fresh tapir for dinner.

The Young Master has expressed a desire for it, and so went Barbatos to the market. And again, it gives him an excuse to procure more goods. The demon walks and walks, past Majolish with its alluring glitter and R.A.D. with its elaborate pillars. Students would be having their clubs around this time, and night shops being set up. He navigates past them with the ease of a man who has traversed these routes since millennia, and he would know them blind.

He knows he has reach the market when the scent of the sea greets him.

And like a man on a mission, the demon buys fresh tapir first. Freshly cut and stored, and takes care to avoid bumping into the other demons around. They know better than to anger their Prince's butler, with his enigmatic smile and polite mannerisms.

There's a special side devoted to human-world spices. Cinnamon, star anise, cumin, mustard, bay leaves.....and the list goes on.

Barbatos expects a crowd consisting of demons from various layers. He doesn't expect you.

You'd almost blend in, if not for the malice radiating from the lessor demon that is gripping your wrist with such tenacity that it is sure to leave bruises. Your expression is one of panic, brows furrowed and eyes widened, and the demon's a leer.

"What the hell," You hiss, attempting to pry yourself out of the iron grip the demon has you in. "Can't anyone in the Devildom just let me live in peace?!"

"Can't ever catch the human alone with those Avatars around. Always thought your soul would be delicious, and the fear radiating from you makes it even more delectable."

"I think you've had enough for today."

The demon turns their head in surprise, not having anticipated being called out in a crowd. And the smug expression on their face disappears when they realise that they've been caught by none other than Barbatos. The expression on their face changes briefly before being replaced by a calm veneer.

"Ah, Barbatos, should have known you were found of human goods so much."

"It would be in your interest to let go of them right now." A threat, spoken with a smile.

The being in front of him wanes briefly; but doesn't let go. You focus your gaze on Barbatos instead, and watch the man for any signal to act.

"And what if I don't?" The demon scowls, baring their canines. "What if I want to feast upon the human's soul?"

The butler smiles. "I'd like to see you try."

You realise that the market has now turned silent—the usual cacophony of vendors and customers bargaining has disappeared—replaced by an eerie silence. Demons are watching, and this situation puts more pressure on Barbatos and the demon to act. There's a circle separating you three from the crowd, and you think you hear a camera shutter going off somewhere.

It would be all over Devilgram by now.

When you catch the butler's eye, he nods, and you get the signal to act. You utter the words under your breath, and by the demon hears them, its too late.

".....spirit of wind, protect me."

They fall flat on the ground, an invisible barrier now separating you both.

"Fucking hell," They groan, getting up. "The human's more bold than I thought, huh?"

A clawed hand reveals itself, and the demon pounces.

You flinch, but find that the attack is not meant for you, but Barbatos.

....He's as cool as ever.

"Cat got your tongue?" He asks, having successfully thrown the demon on the ground with a swipe of his hand. "You were so arrogant before."

They attempt to stand, but they aren't able to. Their legs won't support their weight, and they're trembling so much—was that a paralysing spell?

The crowd watches, and no doubt that the demon is being recorded, or going live on the net right now, for everyone to see them humiliated. And it provides solid evidence of their crimes.

Demons know to stay out of the way of those more powerful. But some are foolish, undoubtedly so, and hence must learn their place.

It sometimes entails choking on bitter medicine.

There's a crackle of magic in the air, you recognise, after having been through countless lessons with Solomon. Something powerful yet subtle.

Barbatos.

Ah, so that is a result of his transformation into his demon form.

"You will be punished suitably, as your Lord deems fitting," He declares, letting his tail whip around in the air. "And the consequences will be severe."

His demon form is meant to bring his point home. No threats against you will be taken lightly. They will be met with the gravest of punishments, and sanctioned by the de-facto ruler of the Devildom.

"But I'll leave you here for a while—to ponder on your transgressions."

The demon can only protest, scream, cry, beg, but Barbatos will not budge. And even before they fear Barbatos, they fear public humiliation and punishment by the Avatars. They've heard of the time when the seven lords had strangled a group of incubi at the academy effortlessly, and it his perhaps his bad luck that they happen to be near Ristorante Six. Which is reserved for an event for the members of the student council today. How unfortunate.

"Did they hurt you?" Barbatos asks, expression neutral.

"I'm just a little shaken-up, that's all." You smile, attempting to convince the demon. "Couldn't help but feel a bit bad for the demon. Isn't leaving them like that too harsh?"

"Oh, not at all," He chuckles. "We demons are quite resilient, you see. What a fall from an eight floor building may do to a human body will only result in a few scratches or bruises at worst."

So that explains Lucifer's punishments...

"I think we can leave them, in that case," You declare, massaging your forehead. "They were being creepy."

"And it shall happen no more."

"I know, Barb, because of you." You say, and he only smiles. "Now, I think you should continue with your shopping. It's getting late—what are you looking at? Go away and leave us alone!" You address the crowd which gapes at you both, and they reluctantly disperse, a murmur passing through the demons.

"Would you like to help me with some of the groceries?" Barbatos asks.

There has already been one timeline where they all lost you—to hatred and anger. Quickly replaced by another you. But that doesn't help the nightmares that sometimes plague them all, even Barbatos is not spared.

And if there is even a single possibility where you are happy and safe in the Devildom, the demon will give all he has to make it into a reality.

Because he has grown to love you.

SIMEON

When you don't turn up for your promised sleepover, Simeon begins to get worried.

He thinks you're late, at first, having your time jeopardised by one of the brothers. Maybe Mammon roped you into one of his schemes again, and now Lucifer would be chasing after you both. The thought makes him giggle, for that is quite possible.

Or maybe you would have been tired and have fallen asleep.

Simeon begins to fret when the clock strikes nine, and he's just finished making himself a cup of hellfire rose tea. The beverage is supposed to soothe his nerves, but it does little to calm the growing restless in his mind.

He sends you a message, but you don't reply.

And when even Lucifer, the one demon that is the most level-headed out of all his brothers denies having seen you at home, stating that you had left an hour earlier, Simeon begins to grow panicked.

But he forces himself to calm down, and then the two brothers no more set out to search for you.

He picks up his cape and sets out, asking Solomon to take care of Luke for the time being, and keep an eye out if you come home in his absence.

"Don't tell Luke yet," He mutters, and Solomon nods. Simeon knows the sorcerer will search for you through his own unconventional methods.

His mind retraces the way to the House of Lamentation, the cobblestone slippery due to the recent rains. There's a slight chill in the air, and so the angel wraps his cape around himself tighter.

Living in the Devildom means that his eyes have grown accustomed to the perpetual darkness, so unlike that of the Celestial Realm. Even now so, Simeon is aware that he's far too bright for demon's eyes. It makes him more vulnerable to dangers in this realm, but Simeon doesn't care.

He's got no time to waste. One hand still clutches his D.D.D. in hopes of you calling him.

Flitting through these streets aimlessly makes him restless.

And that is a feeling that Simeon already had enough of.

A twig breaks nearby, and the angel's eyes dart towards the dense foliage, towards the forest that leads to the other levels in the Devildom. It's a foreign place for him, and he doesn't know whether he'll be even to able get inside.

But he walks in anyways.

Just like he did millennia ago, when the ground seemed to shake and Michael stormed the hallways, demanding to know who had freed Lilith from the dungeon.

And he'd refused to participate in the war which had led to their sister's demise.

Why must it be a sin to love.

Even now, when Simeon steals a glance at Celestial weapons, it seems to him that they reek of sin, stained with the blood of their kin.

He forces himself to swallow the lump in his throat and continue on the unfamiliar path, and stops abruptly. The earth, dampened by rain, has fresh footprints.

Simeon narrows his eyes.

You open your eyes groggily.

It was a bad idea to let yourself go to Purgatory hall alone, but you had managed to convince Lucifer after half an hour of bribing him with vinyl records and Demonus that the demon had finally agreed to let you go, but on the condition that you would keep sending him texts to assure him that you were safe.

Ugh, after this he won't even let you step one foot out of the house without himself or his brothers.

Bless their hearts, but a human also needs alone time.

You'd managed to make it halfway to Purgatory Hall, but then you'd inhaled something in the air. It made you light-headed, and the last thing you remember was footsteps rapidly advancing before you blanked out.

You let your eyes wander. It's a forest, but its not the one you're familiar with in the Devildom. The environment is strange, and it leaves an unsettling feeling churning in the pit of your stomach.

You can fend off any animals here, that's for sure. But again, the most dangerous beings in a forest are those that walk on two feet.

"Whosoever kidnapped me, it was a bad idea."

You say out loud, hoping they hear. When no reply comes, you continue. "I was supposed to be warm and comfortable right now, but you've succeeded in hindering my plans. Loser."

"Shut your whining."

The voice sounds like the rumble of stones falling down a cliff, and it hurts your ears. You finally let yourself get up, dusting your clothes from the soil that clings to them.

Something tilts your chin upwards, and you shriek.

"What the fuck?!" You exclaim, trying to push off what seems like an invisible wall from you. You can't see the offending demon, they seem to have some special sort of abilities—being invisible—and it does not have good intentions in mind.

And, to make matters worse, your cheek is bleeding, from where it had clawed at you.

"First time I'm seeing a human here," It croaks, from somewhere around you, and you can't find out where the voice is coming from. "Knew the Prince had a programme, but he never included the other layers of the Devildom in it."

It almost sounds like the demon is fuming.

"Are we not his subjects?" He seethes, and something lunges at you. It grabs your throat, and you're grateful for the spell you had from Satan to defend yourself.

You hastily mutter the words, as much as they allow you, until the demon is sent flying back, or what you presume, given there's no longer invisible hands around your throat. A shudder escapes your body, and it brings back memories you would not want to relive again.

"Whatever vendetta you have against your Prince, sort it out with him. Not me." You cough, your voice hoarse. "Otherwise I'll be forced to attack you."

"You?" It drawls on, seemingly amused, and you prepare yourself for another attempt. "A human?"

Then they're awfully silent again.

You hate it.

You can't tell where the demon is, and there are no streetlights here, and the forest is so unfamiliar, and with the adrenaline running through your veins, it does little to help you.

A twig breaks somewhere, and you whip your head towards the source.

There's a guttural roar, and then your surroundings seem to brighten up all of a sudden, so much that it forces you to shut your eyes. You hear leaves rustling, a shuffle taking place, and you think you hear arcane murmurings—

You force yourself to open your eyes.

And your conscience did not prepare you for this sight.

There's a demon on the floor. Finally visible, you sigh in relief, but you can't make out their features. And Simeon stands over it.

His back is turned towards you, so you can't see his expression.

"You dared to harm them?" Simeon utters, and the words have a menacing tone to it. "I will not tolerate this."

The demon shrinks backwards, as much as their hands and legs let them ago, trying to back away and away and away from an angel that radiates wrath.

"You deserve to be punished."

Angels were created to do God's bidding. Protect the righteous, execute judgement and serve.

Justice is blind.

And so is anger sometimes.

Maybe other angels would have been forgiving, you think. Perhaps Raphael would have let a rain of spears rain down on the fool and present them to Diavolo, or maybe Michael would serve Divine Judgement.

But you are a human amongst demons.

And there is an angel in front of you.

An angel who has eons of wrath bottled up in him.

But he's not all-forgiving.

You can't see what happening, but Simeon bends down to whisper something into the demon's ear, and you can hear the fellow whimpering at his words.

He stands up again, and turns his gaze towards you.

"Close your eyes, please," Simeon says, and you hear him snarl, but you choose to ignore it all the same.

He's never going to be the same after this, you conclude, as the demon's screams reach a crescendo. You know the angel is on the precipice of falling.

Seraphim to archangel. Archangel to an ordinary human. Human to demon?

Is it love that will lead Simeon to fall, or the very ground on which he had established his angel-hood?

Wrath chokes you, makes the air thick and foreboding. It's alike Satan's rage, which spills over, and results in destruction. But the fear radiating from Simeon is something else, ancient anger which has been left to simmer for too long and has turned poisonous.

You had closed your eyes. Like a good lamb.

But you opened them too soon.

"Little lamb," He whispers, helping you stand. "Are you alright? There's blood on your cheek."

You think its guilt on Simeon's face. He's refusing to look at you now, choosing to instead stare at the moon which paints you both monochrome.

"I'm sorry," You say, trying your best to lighten the mood. "But thank you. I'm okay, it doesn't hurt."

"Still....you don't mind seeing me like this?" He hesitates, words trailing off in a whisper. Doubt fills Simeon's heart, but when you hold his hand so gently he caves in.

"Let's go home."

You don't tell Simeon that you saw white feathers turn black. You'll love him all the same—angel, demon or human.

SOLOMON

Maybe Solomon has a penchant for sensing danger.

Blame it on being protective, but he knew he could not stand back and watch you venture into Siren beach alone. He knows it is an important assignment, a vital part of your training to become a renowned sorcerer under his tutelage. Solomon knows you are worthy, knows you are formidable, but you're still learning.

And he would hate to see you hurt.

So when the protective charm he had placed on you secretly breaks, Solomon drops the vial of hellfire mushroom essence on the floor and stains his carpet.

He curses in a language that human ears have not heard in a very long time, mutters a spell under his breath and creates a portal.

Long ago, he would have checked twice before entering any newly-manifested portal. But he learnt and learnt and made mistakes, and now, Solomon can recite the incantation in his sleep.

His room blurs and disappears and the very air seems to change, and then the sorcerer lands on sand.

Solomon dislikes the ocean.

It brings up memories he'd rather forget, and the smell of sand and salt in the air stirs something foreign inside of him. It twists his heart into knots, but he brushes off the feeling and continues towards where your magic is the strongest.

A siren's song echoes in the distance, and Solomon takes caution and blocks that noise from his ears.

It makes humans mad.

Your scream is the first thing that reaches his ears, and he teleports.

"Make it stop!" You garble out, barely managing to cover your ears while the sirens crowd around you. They all have leers on their faces, and their lips keep moving, singing songs which will drive you to insanity.

Thankfully he can't hear, but oh fuck, he didn't teach you any spells that would keep the worst of the chorus out.

A pang of guilt strikes him. How could he be this negligent?

You look at him so scared, so helpless, so defeated—

Eons ago, he was like you too. Scared and doubtful, until he made himself a king and earned wisdom which granted him everything else, everything but death.

"Get away from them!" He shouts, eyebrows furrowed.

The sirens steal a look at him, and freeze, confused at a human which is not affected by their voice.

"Strange," One says, with seaweed in her hair. "A mortal who is not maddened yet."

He strides towards them, until he's managed to be close enough to whisper the words in your ear that will protect you against their songs, and watches as you mutter the words he says and then sigh.

"Let us be, we are no ordinary humans."

"That makes the hunt irresistible." They reply, and Solomon smiles, and shares a look with you.

"They think we'll fall in no time," He chuckles, hand under his chin. "Want to show them who we are, MC?"

You grin. "Gladly."

Then one lunges, nails and teeth far sharper than on any siren he's seen before. He recites a chant under his breath, and she falls back, into the sea.

"Warned you."

The others hiss.

You ignore the adrenaline running through your veins and focus on the remaining sirens, reciting a hex that you learnt with the sorcerer a month ago.

"......let them be singed."

There's a shriek, and it seems to be coming from all directions—the sirens all retreat into the water, your spell having done its job.

You stare until the surface calms, still not trusting yourself to face Solomon. You're trembling slightly, and you were so scared that you were going to die—

"It's okay." Solomon whispers, voice weak. You turn around to gaze at him, the sound of waves hitting rocks a background melody. He's smiling, but there's desperation in his eyes. He's hiding his true emotions right now, and aren't you doing the same?

The sorcerer hides his face into the crook of your neck, and you feel him press his lips to the skin there. He shudders, and you don't comment on it.

"I should have taught you the spell before letting you come here," He whispers, his voice breaking off at the end. "I had almost lost you there. Forgive me."

You wrap your arms around him. "It's okay," You a press a kiss to his head. "I'm safe, you're safe, we are safe." You hope Solomon is comforted by your words, given he's never let himself be so vulnerable with you before.

"You'll grow to be as powerful as me." The man chuckles, breathing deeply. Relief floods his body, and now that the adrenaline has worn off it leaves Solomon lethargic. "My sorcerer..."

He just want to be with you.

"We should go home," You suggest, noticing the chill in the air. "It's getting late. The sirens may return.."

"You can take care of them just fine now, can't you?"

"Now now, don't get too chummy with me."

BONUS: LUKE

Sorry Luke—

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me dateables #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #tw: violence #obey me luke #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me simeon x reader #obey me solomon x reader

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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year

Text

Greatest Fan of your Life

➪the one where you get your wisdom teeth removed and bradley takes care of you.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of a bad past dental experience, mentions of teeth being removed...because, you know, mentions of blood, anesthesia, use of an iv, mentions of not eating properly, reader is going through it, bradley being the best boyfriend ever, literally wrote this because i just had three of my wisdom teeth removed and needed some comfort

Word Count: 5.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

You were nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you glanced up at the sign of the best dental office in San Diego. As you read over the sign a couple of times, Bradley reached over from his place behind the wheel and grabbed your hand. “How are you feeling?”

Tearing your eyes off the logo that resembled a tooth, you give him a weary smile. “I’m nervous,” you state the obvious in a quiet voice.

Bradley raised your hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it before rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles with his thumb. “You’re going to be fine, pretty girl,” he said in hopes to provide you with some much needed comfort. “I’m going to be waiting right here when it’s over, and then we’ll go home and I’ll cater to your every need.”

You give him another smile and lean over to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I like the sound of that,” you murmur and he smiles back before placing another quick kiss to your mouth.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” He asks when he saw you reach for the handle.

“Please,”

And with that one word Bradley was hopping out of the Bronco and grabbing your hand as you both walked up to the door. He could feel just how tense you were and he wished there was something he could do to ease your nerves, even a little bit. He knew there was nothing he could say or do to help you, as having anything done to your mouth, from a filling to a simple clean, made you beyond nervous.

You had never liked the dentist, ever since you were a kid and they had to hold you down while extracting a tooth that was no good. They hadn’t given you enough freezing for it to numb properly, so you felt pretty much everything. Safe to say you never went back to that dentist office.

Maybe that was why you had waited so long to make an appointment to have your wisdom teeth removed. You were told back when you were twenty one that you should get them extracted as soon as possible, but that was ten years ago, and you still hadn’t booked the appointment.

You were fine, for the most part, up until a few weeks ago. You were barely able to chew tough foods because your gums ached beyond words, and you had resorted to drinking shakes to get you through the day. That was fine, until Bradley noticed you had lost a concerning amount of weight due to the lack of actual food you were getting into your body.

He went ahead and booked the appointment for you pretty much instantly after that. He had to sweet talk the lady on the other line, who was insisting that it should be you who was making the appointment, but she eventually gave in when he told her about your fear of the dentist.

Bradley still wasn’t sure how he had gotten away with that, but he was grateful nonetheless, even if you didn’t talk to him for the rest of the day after he informed you of your upcoming extractions.

While you were upset and scared, you were also glad you would be able to go back to eating solid foods in about a week after today.

That positive still didn’t help tune out all the negatives you were feeling.

As you walked up to the front desk of the office, you didn’t loosen your hold on Bradley’s hand once, not even when the lady behind the desk handed you a clipboard with papers you needed to sign since this was your first time in this office.

You both sat in the waiting room, and you were shaking so badly you were afraid your writing was so messy that you’d have to ask for a new page. With a nervous glance up at your boyfriend, he just pressed a kiss to the side of your head and took the clipboard from you, filling out your information for you. Most he knew off by heart, thankfully, and he handed it back to you so you could scribble down your signature at the bottom of the page.

It was only a few minutes after he handed the board back to the lady when your name was called. Bradley could tell that you were beginning to freak out once again, so he took your hand and walked with you over to where the procedure will be done.

“You’re going to be fine,” he assured you, his hands tilting your head up so he could press a soft kiss to your lips. “It’ll take an hour at the most, and then we’ll be back home.”

You just nodded and allowed him to kiss your forehead. “I love you,”

“I love you, too,” and he watched as you were guided into the room by the assistant.

You hesitantly sat down on the chair and kept your eyes on the blank wall in front of you. Off to your left were various paintings, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at them, despite them probably being there to calm down the patients. You were so nervous, you couldn’t even voice your opinions on the decor of the waiting room. This was by far the most elegant dentist office you had ever seen in your life.

The assistant took a seat next to you and began wiping down your forearm, and you began mentally preparing yourself for the eventual puncture of the IV. “How are we doing?” She asked softly. “Are you nervous?”

You give her a tight smile as she tosses the wipe into the trash can. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only a little bit,” she teased as the Doctor came in. “Your boyfriend mentioned that you have had some pretty tough times in the past regarding previous procedures. I want you to know that you have nothing to be afraid of. It’ll be over before you know it.”

You nod at her as the Doctor gently picked up the IV. “Hi, Y/n,” he smiled at you. “I’m Doctor Brown.”

“Hi,” you nearly whisper back.

He asked you the standard questions, like; are you taking any medication currently, are you a smoker, is there a chance you’re pregnant, when was the last time you had something to eat or drink. All that fun stuff you were barely able to answer.

“I’m going to insert the IV now, okay?” He asked and waited until you gave him verbal consent before gently piercing your skin with the needle. He looked at the fluid bag before sitting down on the other side of you and grabbing gloves. “I hear this is your first time with us, is that correct?”

You nod as he adjusts the chair so you are laying back. “It is,”

“And you have a reliable ride home?”

You nod again. “Yeah, my boyfriend,” you answer, wondering when exactly you were supposed to start feeling sleepy.

The assistant, whose name tag read Alia Clark, grabbed her own gloves as she asked, “What does your boyfriend do?”

“He’s in the navy,” you mumble with a small smile. “He’s an aviator.”

“Oh, wow,” she replied and smiled down at you before checking over your chart. “And what is his name?”

For some reason, that took you a bit longer to answer as you felt your eyes begin to feel heavy. “Bradley,” you were finally able to say. “His name is Bradley, but he also goes by his call sign, Rooster.”

“Rooster, huh?” Doctor Brown hums and you were only able to nod as you felt your eyes close.

“Don’t worry, Y/n,” you hear Alia say. “You will be back with Bradley, or Rooster, in no time.”

And that was all the assurance you needed before you let yourself fall asleep.

Bradley wishes he was able to stay in the room with you, but he knew he couldn’t, so he finally made his way back out to the Bronco once he saw the Doctor enter your room.

Once he was back behind the wheel, he sighed as he had an hour of time to kill.

He had taken the week off work, after informing Mav of your fear of the dentist. The older man seemed to have taken pity on you as he had no problem letting Bradley skip this week to look after you.

As he began to wait, he pulled out his phone and typed a quick message to you, knowing you wouldn’t see it or read it until you were back home. You told him beforehand to take your phone away from you until the effects of the IV wore off completely, nervous that you would embarrass yourself if you were to go on it in your drug induced haze.

After typing out a sappy little message, Bradley ended it with a simple red heart before sending it, hearing the buzz of your phone from where it was on the center console.

He debated on whether or not he wanted to stay in the parking lot the whole time, or run out to the store to get some things that would help make the next few days easier for you.

He reluctantly chose the second option, as he knew you wouldn’t want him to leave your side once you were back home.

Bradley drove to the nearest store and bought a few packs of pudding, apple sauce, ginger ale, yogurt and even some more of those shakes you had been living off of, something he was still mad about as he hated the way you turned to practically starving yourself to avoid this appointment, before stopping by the pharmacy to pick up more painkillers.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the smallest bit excited to be the one taking care of you. Usually it was the other way around, with you being the one to look after him every time he returned home from his deployments. Whether that be with making him his favorite foods, giving him some much needed massages or simply just laying with him in bed for a few hours, it all made the welcome home much nicer than it would have been if he was still living alone and single.

This time he got to be the one to look after you, and he couldn’t wait to cater to your every need. He couldn’t wait to spend the whole week with you, even though you would most likely be miserable and uncomfortable due to the pain in your mouth. Still, he would do his best to make things better for you.

Your surgery should be over soon, so with twenty minutes left on the timer he set for himself on his phone, he drove back to the dental office and was back to waiting for you.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to go in and wait for you inside, or if they’ll call him to come walk you out, but he decided to go in a bit early, anyway, and wait for you in the waiting room.

Bradley remembered when he got his wisdom teeth removed, back when he was still a teen. He remembered just how uncomfortable he was during the recovery days, and how he didn’t really have anyone to look after him. He got his aunt to drive him there and home, and she stayed with him for a few hours after the surgery, but eventually had to return to her own home.

He had to stick to sucking on popsicles and protein shakes until he was feeling well enough to go back to eating normal food.

He was completely on his own back then, and he’d make sure that wasn’t the case with you.

A few minutes go by, and when he heard the assistant call his name, he paused the latest newscast that he was watching on his phone and pocketed it before standing up. “How is she?” He asked as Alia getsured for the lady behind the desk to ring up the receipt. “How’d it go?”

Alia smiled at his multiple questions as she watched him insert his credit card into the machine. “It went well,” she answered and gave him another smile when he slipped the card back into his wallet and took the receipt from the receptionist. “She’s just resting now, but is able to go home since most of the anesthesia has worn off.”

He nodded and followed her back to where you were. She stepped aside as he entered the room and found you still laying on the chair, your eyes barely open as you stared blankly at the TV that was hung from the ceiling. “Hi, pretty girl,”

At the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, you look over and tear up. “I don’t look pretty right now,” you mumble and try to avoid moving the cotton pads that were stuck to either side of your mouth.

Bradley hushed you and quickly walked around the chair so he could press his lips to your forehead. Your mouth and cheeks were swollen, and he could see a bit of blood on your bottom lip, but other than that, he still thought you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. “You do,” he said and grabbed your hand when you reached it out to him, careful to not touch the bandage from where the IV was inserted. “Mouth full of gauze and all.”

“You’re Rooster, I’m assuming?” Doctor Brown asked as he held a few pages of paper in his hand.

“She told you my call sign, huh?” Bradley shook his head while you avoided eye contact with him and instead decided to stare at the wall.

“She was the perfect patient,”

Bradley looked over at you and gently rubbed circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. “I believe it,”

Doctor Brown went over what exactly he and Alia did to you, before handing him a small bag that held antibiotics inside. The whole time you remained silent as you tried not to cry in front of the Doctor and assistant, squeezing Bradley’s hand whenever you felt the pain beginning to form.

“She should be okay now,” the Doctor finished with a smile at the two of you. “There should be no more pain from having them in. If there is still a bit of discomfort after about two weeks, come back in and we’ll check up on the healing process.”

“Sounds good,” Bradley answered and gently pulled you up from the chair. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” you mutter as he guides you back towards the exit, with him carrying most of your body weight. He led you back out to the Bronco and helped put your seatbelt on before he was getting in on the drivers side.

“I know this will be hard for you to do,” he began, checking you over once more before putting the car in reverse and beginning to back out of the parking space. He puts his right hand on the back of your headrest and gives you a teasing smile before continuing, “But I looked it up and Google says you shouldn’t talk too much. It might interrupt the healing process.”

Despite him really wanting to hear all the odd things you’d say in your daze, he didn’t want you paying the price later by having a sore throat.

You send him a dirty look and raise your brow, as if to say, really?

He just winks at you after taking off his aviators and reaching over to gently place them over your eyes, sacrificing his own in hopes you would appreciate the gesture since you had forgotten your own during your rush to leave this morning. It was nearing the afternoon, so the sun was shining down on the both of you, but he would deal with it to make you more comfortable.

He was right about you appreciating it, as you give him a closed mouth smile, your cheeks puffed out due to the gauze. “Tell you what,” he says as he pulls out onto the main road, his right hand instinctively reaching over to trace random shapes onto the skin of your thigh. He keeps his left one on the wheel as he glances over at you, seeing your eyes already on him from behind the glasses. “Once we get home and you rest for a few hours, maybe we can go out and get milkshakes if you’re feeling up to it. Might help with the soreness.”

You instantly perk up at that and nod, grabbing his hand and bringing it up to your mouth. Bradley held back a laugh at your attempt to kiss the back of his hand, your lips clearly still numb as you couldn’t seem to get them to move properly.

He just gave you a grin when you looked over at him in defeat.

The swelling had gotten worse as the time went on, and your throat was dry beyond words. Bradley had guided you towards the couch as soon as you got home, flipping the TV onto one of your favorite shows and making sure you were comfortable before he was leaving to tidy up the small mess you had made in the bedroom a few hours earlier, when you couldn’t decide what to wear and had thrown multiple articles of clothing onto the floor.

Within minutes he was back at your side, your head resting on his lap as you stared at the screen of the TV. Bradley ran his fingers through your hair as you both watched the show, listening to your uneven breaths as you fought back grunts of pain.

He looked down and gently held your chin in between his fingers, squinting down at you as you opened your mouth. “I think it might be time to change the gauze, baby,” he murmurs and you wince in at the thought of seeing the bloody cotton leave your mouth.

Bradley gently sits you up before reaching over and grabbing the bag from the dentist and pulling out a fresh set of gauze.

After damping them with water, he sets them aside before mumbling a quiet, “Come here,” and he watches as you lean towards him and slowly open your mouth. Bradley caresses your jaw with one hand and uses the other to slowly pull out the bloodied gauze. He does it one by one, murmuring a soft, “I’m sorry,” when he sees the tears form in your eyes. He places both pieces of gauze on the palm of his hand before handing you the clean ones.

He sits with you until you’ve successfully placed the new cotton into your mouth, and then stands up to throw away the blood filled ones.

Once Bradley returns back to the living room, you move over and give him space to sit down before laying your head in his lap again and trying to focus on the show instead of the throbbing in your mouth.

With your head still feeling fuzzy and the feeling of your boyfriend’s fingers running through your hair again, you give yourself a bit of relief and fall asleep.

When you woke up alone a few hours later, you noticed that Bradley had left the TV on and had also put your phone on the coffee table beside you. You could hear him doing something in the kitchen as you reached for it, and knowing him, he was probably making something to eat as his stomach was like a bottomless pit.

You sat up with a groan, still a bit groggy from the anesthesia, and unlocked your phone. Instantly, you were met with a couple of texts from your friends and family, and you smiled as you read them.

Mom: I heard from Bradley that it went well and you’re resting now. Call me when you’re feeling up to it. Love you x

Nat: I told you that there was nothing to be scared of. Have fun being stuck with Rooster for a week ;) Text me when you can!

But the one that had you smiling a little bit more was the one from Bradley.

Bradley ♡: I love you, pretty girl. I promise I will be there with you as soon as it’s done. I’m all yours for the next week, and after that.

You send him a heart emoji back, then realize that the gauzes are all soggy in your mouth, and you once again had to hold back a gag as you leaned over to put your phone back down.

When you bite too hard down on your cheek through the cotton, you wince and accidentally drop your phone onto the floor. It landed on the rug with a thud, and you heard the sounds coming from the kitchen stop.

Seconds later Bradley was standing in the doorway to the living room, a cloth in his hands and he was still chewing something as he asked, “Are you okay?”

You give him a thumbs up before pointing down at your phone.

He looks at it and shakes his head as he tosses the cloth back into the kitchen to find later, before crossing the room and picking up the device. “I knew giving you back your phone would be a bad idea,” he teased as he sat down next to you and gently ran his fingers along your still swollen jaw. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged and blinked away the remaining sleep from your eyes. “Dry,” you said and wince at how raspy your voice sounded.

Bradley nodded, murmuring a quiet, “Okay,” as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Do you feel like trying to drink something?”

You look up at him with a small smile. “Milkshake?”

He laughs and kisses your forehead. “We can go get milkshakes,” he says as he gently tugs on your lower lip with his thumb. “But first we need to change those again.”

You groan as he helps remove the stained gauze from your mouth again and wonder how he wasn’t grossed out by holding them in his hand. You supposed he’s seen and done worse, and he’s not exactly new to having your saliva on him.

He uses his free hand to grasp your chin between his fingers and tilts your head so the lamp next to the couch was able to shine somewhat into your mouth. “It doesn’t seem to be bleeding much right now,” he hums and stands up to toss the gauze away. “Do you want to see how it goes without them for a bit? Just until you get something into you. If it starts to bleed again after the shakes, I’ll help you put new ones in.”

You agree instantly, happy to be rid of the uncomfortable cotton for at least a little while. After he throws the used gauze out, he returns back to the living room with his keys and phone in one of his hands, the other free for you to hold as he held it out to you.

He pulls you off the couch and guides you back out to the Bronco, making sure to grab the bag that holds the gauze and meds that you would need to take afterwards. He knew it would be an early night as the medicine would most likely make you sleepy again, and that was why he waited until it was nearing eight before taking you out for milkshakes, so you could go back home and go to bed at a reasonable time.

Bradley couldn’t do much for your discomfort, but he could sure as hell keep your sleep schedule on track.

You leaned your head against the window as he drove into town, your eyes hazy as you listened to his quiet humming of the song that played on the radio. “I like your singing,” you murmur as you look at all the lit up shops that passed by. “You should do it more often.”

Bradley laughed from beside you as he pulled into the drive thru. “I sing all the time for you, baby,”

“I know,” you say and lift your head, looking over at him while he eyed all the flavors to choose from. “But I can never get enough of you, you know that.”

He lifted his hand and ran his knuckles along the bone of your cheek, admiring the way your pretty face looked in the dim lighting of the Bronco. “The feeling is mutual,” he grinned at you when you turned your head to place a kiss to the back of his hand. “What kind are you wanting to get?”

You hum as you lean over the center console, reading over the various flavors. “Strawberry,” you decide and run your nose along the sharp angle of his jaw. “Please.”

After ordering two shakes, and asking for a spoon, Bradley pulled into one of the many available parking spaces. He pulled off the lid of your shake and stuck the plastic spoon in it before handing it over to you.

He watched you carefully as he sipped on his own shake, holding back a laugh at how puffy your face is. Of course, you saw him shift out of the corner of your eye and turn to him with a raised brow. “Sorry,” he grinned and set his shake down in the cup holder. “You look like a chipmunk.”

You just shake your head at him and slurp on the spoon, waiting until the cold substance dripped down your throat before saying, “You’re laughing at me,” you state and hear him snort and cover his mouth. “I’m in pain and you’re laughing at me.”

That just made him laugh harder, and you found yourself smiling at the sound. “I’m sorry,” he says and reaches over to gently caress your swollen cheek. “You still look as hot as ever.”

You roll your eyes and bring another spoonful of the milkshake to your lips. “Liar,”

“I mean it,” he promised, running his fingers over your jaw in a feather light touch before pulling away. “You’re the sexiest chipmunk I’ve ever seen, baby.”

When you laugh loudly, you wince immediately after, and Bradley quickly decides that you’d most definitely be a lot more comfortable at home.

“Alright, I think we should get going. Are you okay to…eat that while I drive?” He asked as he sipped on his chocolate shake. You wave him off and take a much smaller amount on the spoon, knowing that Bradley would go off on you for spilling anything in his precious Bronco, but you also knew he’d wait until after you were feeling better. The thought had a warm feeling spreading all over your body, as did his next words, “Okay, we’ll head home. You should take one of the antibiotics, first.”

You agree, and he holds your shake as you take the pill into your mouth. After rummaging around in the back with his free hand, Bradley hands you a warm water bottle, and he puts a reminder in his head to put the bottle in the fridge once he got home.

“Okay?” He asked when you took back your milkshake.

You nodded and have him a half smile, “It’s probably going to make me tired,”

“I know, that’s a good thing. You should be pretty tired by the time we get back home, and then you can go to bed and sleep off a bit of the pain,” he pointed out as he put the Bronco in reverse. Before he actually started moving, he gave you a serious look. “Do not spill that shake, pretty girl.”

You laugh quietly and give him a side glance as you sipped a bit of the milkshake from the cup.

“I mean it, baby,” he was only half serious in his warning as he started the short ride back home, one hand on the wheel while his other one held his plastic cup. “That cute face will only get you so far.”

You just shake your head and lean over to press a kiss to his cheek that you couldn’t feel yourself do. Your lips were still numb, so you were really trying to be as careful as possible with not spilling your milkshake.

Luckily, you arrived back home without letting a drop hit a single spot in the interior of his Bronco, and Bradley gave you a chocolate tasting kiss as a reward as he led you back up to the house.

Once you were in your room, he helped dress you in one of his shirts and sweats. After concluding that the bleeding had stopped, he decided there was no need to shove move gauze into your mouth, as that would most likely make it start to bleed again.

He pulled back the covers and sat down next to you, smiling down at your emotionless face and tired eyes. “You doing okay?” He asked as he brushed away some of your hair.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, taking his hand in yours and trying to kiss it. He just grinned at your attempt. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Bradley leaned down and kissed your forehead gently. “I always will, you know that,” you nodded as he pulled away and stood up. “Do you want an ice pack for the night? Might help with the swelling.”

After thinking about it, you nod and wait for him to return back into the room with the ice pack. He wrapped it in a dish towel and gently placed it against your jaw before stripping down into just his boxer briefs.

He settles down in bed behind you, hesitant to touch you at the moment in case you needed space. When you just laughed quietly and grabbed his hand so you could wrap his arm around your waist, he inched closer to you and allowed you to rest the ice pack between his shoulder and your jaw. He was glad he put the towel around it, but he also wouldn’t have minded having to feel it unwrapped against his bare shoulder. He’d suck it up for you.

“I love you, pretty girl,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you,” you mumbled back, snuggling closer to him as the effects of the antibiotics began taking over your body.

As Bradley held you while you slept, he felt glad that he was the one you wanted to look after you. He loved you beyond words and he felt as though this was the beginning of his attempts to even out the balance in your relationship. It was you who constantly looked after him, and though he loved it, he also felt guilty that there weren’t many occasions where he was the one who looked after you.

After spending the day taking care of your every need and being the one person you wanted to see you vulnerable, he decided that after this he would put more effort into showing you how much he appreciated and adored you.

He was ready to move onto a new chapter in his life with you by his side, if the small box tucked away in his box of collectable cards was anything to go by.

All he had to do was hope you’d say yes.

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niki-phoria · 2 years

Note

Hi hi hi !! Can you do a scenario where chishiya's gn! s/o (who's normally sweet and sunshiney) finally snaps and cusses someone out or smth? I thought it would be p funny lmaosjsks (also unrelated but like who's ur txt bias)

i'm so obsessed with doctor chishiya you don't understand

pairing: chishiya x gn!reader (they/them pronouns used once) genre: fluff word count: 1.3k

warnings: not canon compliant, pretend this is before chishiya also starts sacrificing people ig ??, canon typical violence, death, cussing, i can't actually remember how arisu arisued his way out of this game so this could've actually gotten all of them killed lmao, i am incapable of writing fics if they don't end in a confession idk

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i couldn't really figure out how to make reader sweet so i just made them super cooperative (if that makes sense lmao) i hope you like it !!

also i am a beomgyu stan at heart but kai has had a GRIP on me since cysm something in that studio choom fancam changed me idk

requests open !! read my rules first

a group of people are already awkwardly standing around when you approach the building. a ‘ding’ chimes as soon as you enter the doorway, confirming your participation. you grab one of the phones on the table and sign in before moving to lean against the wall. chishiya stands next to you, subtly judging the people around you.

“registration closed. game: dead or alive. difficulty: three of clubs,” the announcement begins. “rules: players must choose between two doors to exit the building. game clear: players exit the building safely within the time limit. game over: players enter the wrong room or run out of time.”

a clock hanging on the wall lights up with a timer counting down from two minutes. the people around you begin to panic.

“life or death?” a woman reads. she’s wearing an apron covered in flour, nervously looking around the room. “how do we know which one to choose?”

“just pick one,” a man argues. he’s in jeans and a stained shirt that reeks of alcohol, even in the borderlands. his words slur together a little. “we’re all gonna die anyways.”

“nobody has to die,” you interrupt. “we can work together to win this one. we still have one minute and forty seconds left.” you glance between the two doors. they both look the same- artwork printed on the top half of a door labeled either “life” or “death.”

“it’s life,” a man wearing a business suit says. his voice is deep and confident. there are no wrinkles or imperfections in his clothes though he looks tired. he peers at you through thick glasses perched on his nose.

a high school girl nervously runs towards the door, swinging it open and stepping inside. less than a second later, a laser shoots through the ceiling and her body falls to the ground. your body stiffens next to chishiya. you stare at her corpse in shock until he starts pulling your arm, shoving you through the death door and slamming it shut behind himself. the room sets alight as soon as he does.

“why would you do that?” the woman wearing an apron yells. “she was just a kid!”

“these are death games,” the businessman apathetically responds. crooked fingers raise to push his glasses up, staring at you. “sacrifice is always necessary.”

“we’re running out of time,” a teenager mumbles. he still has a bike helmet strapped on. “we need to choose another door.”

time continues to tick down. panic engulfs the room. the woman nervously glances between the two doors before she closes her eyes, placing her hand on the handle of the life door and swinging it open. after a few seconds she lets out a relieved gasp. you’re quick to follow her out of the room, shutting the door behind you.

the next room looks exactly the same as the others. a gray room with two doors, one labeled ‘life’ and the other ‘death.’ the timer is becoming faster now.

“we should take turns choosing doors,” the woman suggests. “i picked the last one, it’s someone else’s turn.”

“that sounds fair, right?” the high school boy anxiously fiddles with the clasp of his helmet. he glances at the time before turning to you. “i think they should go.”

you flinch a little from the sudden suggestion but nod. “okay.” before you can leave to open a door chishiya pulls you back by your arm, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“pick death.” he has no expression when you look at him but gives you a small nod towards the door. your hand shakes a little when you set it on the handle, swinging the door open and stepping into the room. after a few seconds of nothing happening, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“who goes next?” you ask, looking between the teenager and the businessman.

“your friend should go,” the businessman says. “he said something to you before you picked the door. what was it?”

“why does that matter?”

“he hasn’t said a word since we got here. for all we know, he could be a part of the games.” the woman shrinks back away from you at his words. you scoff.

“you really think whoever is running these games is sending in spies?”

“he’s right,” the teenager says, moving to the other side of the room next to the woman. “how do we know who you are?”

“we’re running out of time,” chishiya says. only thirty seconds remain on the timer. he grabs your hand, moving to the ‘life’ door and opening it. after a few uneventful seconds, the others rush into the room behind you.

“he’s gotten every single answer right,” the businessman argues. “how?”

chishiya sighs. “the building is shaped like a square. there’s one room in the middle and eight rooms surrounding it. the girl who opened the first door led to the room in the middle. if we stick to the edges of the building we’ll be able to complete the game.”

“how long have you known how to win?” the woman yells. “why did you let that girl die? how can we trust you?”

“i wasn’t sure until the second room.”

“if you’re so sure, then open the wrong door.” the businessman says. “if you’re right, then the middle room will have more than one door and we’ll be able to see inside.”

“are you a fucking idiot?” the words leave your mouth before you realize what they are, only spurred on by the anger coursing through you. “seriously, who do you think you are? you’ve done nothing but guess your way through the game and now that we have a strategy you’re complaining about the plan working? shut up and listen for once. he’s saving your lives!”

you take a breath to calm yourself, almost shrinking back to chishiya’s side. he glances over his shoulder at you, silently reaching over to take your hand into his. the group stares between you, chishiya, and the businessman but you ignore them. the warmth of chishiya’s hand in yours calms you.

“it has to be death,” he says, turning back to the group. “open the door.” nobody moves until you drag him with you to the door, swinging it open and entering the next room.

you follow chishiya through the rest of the rooms until you end up at the final room. “wait,” he pulls you back, next to his side. there are only ten seconds on the timer. “the ‘life’ door leads to the middle room but the ‘death’ one goes back to the original room.”

“the entrance and exit must be the same.” you rush to the door, quickly throwing it open and running out of the room. the fire barely misses you as it scorches the room, setting it alight in flames. you pant, leaning back against the wall of the original room.

your phone chimes in your pocket. “game cleared. congratulations.”

chishiya’s hand remains in yours, leading you out of the building. the cool night air feels good against your skin. he squeezes your hand, letting himself slightly relax. “thank you,” he whispers. “for standing up for me. for trusting me.”

you nod, pulling him into a hug. chishiya stiffens a little, awkwardly standing in front of you before hesitantly wrapping his arms around you. “of course i trust you. i love you.”

chishiya presses a kiss against your forehead, pulling you a little closer. “i love you too.”

1K notes · View notes

sameschmidtdiffname · 7 months

Note

hai i have a request for a mike fic, so i was thinking of a comfort/hurt type of thing and maybe like a “i didn’t know where else to go” kind of trope where reader shows up to his house in the middle of the night distressed and he comforts her

To All I Think is Safe

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: After a family dinner gone awry, something guides you somewhere where your mind can safely wander in better memories than the ones you're making right now.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific pronouns for Reader, mentions of arguments, heavy disassociation, heavy nosebleeding, flashbacks, first kiss, date, fear of heights, fair date, author is fucking trying, fluff.

Notes: I think my bosses want me dead. Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

I can handle family. Who can't handle family?

The part of me knocking on the green door illuminated only by the orange streetlight a few yards away, trying to peak through one of the three window slots on the door to see if there's any sign of life inside of the modest house, praying that there is out of selfish desperation. That's who.

I hadn't called. Hadn't given notice. I'd been too caught up in the emotions of myself to do so, worried I'd be turned away if I had. The thought makes me feel ill now, my mind chastising me for such a self interested act.

For a moment I almost turn to leave, sure that no one is awake and that I've simply wasted the gas in the trip over here. But at the loud clunk of the door unlocking, I feel my heart jump and sink simultaneously as Mike peaks his head through the crack in the door, bags under his eyes and hair tossled from sleep.

"Hey," he croaked, blinking away the sleep as his tired face managed a look of surprise.

"Hey," I said softly, trying not to let my voice crack. But it does. "Is this a bad time?"

I don't know what gives my state away. Maybe it's how swollen my face is, puffy and burning from the overexposure to salt water. I can already feel the skin on my eyes balloning in a disastrously unattractive manner. Maybe it's the snot that's still on my face even after trying desperately to wipe it away, my problem being I'd run out of napkins in my car some time ago and hadn't replaced them, so I'd been resorted to just trying my best to sniff back the snot or use the arm of my jacket, which is now soaked and covered by my hand to conceal it, to wipe it away. God, it's fucking sticky and I feel gross. I don't understand why the snot won't just stop fucking flowing.

"Shit, you're bleeding," Mike says. His eyes widen as he steps forward, instantly dragging me into the house, down the hall and into the bathroom.

Oh. That's why my head hurts.

The white light is blinding and overstimulating in the small, disorganized room. One glance in the mirror and I can see the bottom half of my face is grossly smeared in the snot-blood combo running from my nose, my eyes bloodshot and more dry than a British comedy from all of the tears. I stare at myself for a moment, hardly even realizing Mike is yanking my coat off of me, stroking my hair and trying to ask me questions about what happened. I can hear his voice but the words are muffled, and even though my eyes are staring at him now, I don't know when I turned to face him or what I'm really looking at. I'm just staring at anything. My mother used to call it 'staring off into space.' It's actually a disassociation episode. The kind that can make me lose myself in other thoughts, making me distant from reality where I assume the worst of things.

I'm rational enough to know not to lean into him. If I throw myself into his arms I'll smear my shit everywhere and then he'll be grossed out and will have to play nice after I interrupted his sleep to beg for comfort that should come easily enough from my aforementioned mother, but clearly I'm adult enough now that I don't need coddling and I shouldn't have driven here and-

Am I saying this out loud? Because my mouth is moving and I'm trying to say something but I'll be honest, my head is in disarray and Mike looks worried. Me too, buddy. Me too.

My hands try to help his find a wash cloth in his closet, trying to be useful, but they're covered in snot and blood too and it's dried and horrid looking and I just feel like some sticky toddler that's wailing over nothing because that's what I'm doing, and I'm trying not to dissolve into a new wave of tears because my eyes really, really hurt and I'm gonna end up hiccuping and sobbing and I shouldn't even be here right now.

Mike's hands wrap around mine and he's trying to pull me somewhere. But he won't get out of my way, tugging me forward and blocking me like it's some game. Then I realize it's him he's trying to drag me to, and I try to push away, not wanting to get him dirty or let him fulfill some duty of pity just because he feels obligated seeing me in such a state. He's touching my hair and there's snot in that too and this is all just entirely too much, making me burst out sobbing once more as I try to hide my face in my arm, feeling all too vulnerable and alone while in a house that's not mine in any way, shape or form. But his arms feel nice around me, and he's guiding me to the bathtub and helping me lay down inside of it. When he pulls away I'm paranoid for a second that he'll turn the shower head on and wash me like a drunk, especially when he reaches for the shower handles. He presses a clean, white cloth to the spout and let's just a little bit of water out to wet the washcloth before turning the water off and coming closer to me, dabbing and wiping gently at the drying mixture on my face.

There's a long while of silence. Him carefully washing me, his touch gentle and caring as I feel the wet glumps with dried crusts fade away. The pounding in my head begins to dull to an overwhelming ache, making me shut my eyes as I softly groan. When I think he's done I dare peaking at him from under my lashes, trying to read his mind. His brows are furrowed, probably in disgust. Lips pressed together as he sits on the balls of his heels,, watching me carefully. Most likely he'll let me sleep on the couch and then kick me out in the morning. I'll be lucky if I get the "We should see other people" speech. I wouldn't blame him if my calls just couldn't connect when I get home, leaving me to wonder what could've been if I hadn't been so selfish.

I don't even know the time for fucks sake.

"I'm not crazy," I say in this broken voice that only a crazy person would have.

I don't know what's funny, but he's laughing. His hand reaches out to stroke my cheek, and he feels so warm. His callouses have this smooth texture to them. Working hands. It's the first thing I noticed when we held hands the first time. It was at some carnival thing, and Abby was with us. It was sweet under those neon lights. The rides always look so cheap, but there's something enchanting in that. It's what I focus on now as my mind finally begins to relax, allowing me the guilty pleasure of mentally slipping away into an actual memory instead of just static filling my mind and drowning everything else out unpleasantly.

"I know," Mike says softly, his thumb stroking the raw skin under my eye as he watches me with a gentle smile, one probably meant to hide his contempt. "You're okay."

The rides had these giant speakers built into them. And the workers would play songs from them, loud enough it was blaring in your ear on the ride but it was a reasonable volume when you were just walking around on the wet, overgrown and matted grass that curls around the giant cables Mike and I both had to be irritating about reminding Abby not to trip on, both of us looking down to watch for them more than looking at anything else.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mike asks gently. He's always so gentle. Well, not always.

"Ope, someone lost their drink," I said to Mike, pointing at a spilled lemonade on the dirt path that had been created by decades of the county fair foot-traffic.

"Five second rule," Mike said, his voice low and teasing in my ear, making me burst out laughing.

"That's fucking disgusting!" I exclaimed, looking at him incredulously. A mother passing by snapped 'hey!' At me, tugging her child harshly behind her as she glared. I blushed, covering my mouth with my hand at the outburst, which made Mike laugh just as hard as I just had.

I suppose I have to talk about it. I can't really just not show up at his doorstep in the middle of the night and not just explain myself. But my teeth feel cemented together, my throat full of glue that halts the words I could use to inform him of why I look like this. And my eyes are too tired to make contact with his. So I just melt into his hand, pressing it between my cheek and my shoulder. And he doesn't press any more.

"I always liked the rides that made me feel like I was flying," Mike said as we watched Abby spin round and round with some girl she often spent her days with. Lisa Something.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning to look at him, taking a drink from the giant lemonade that was not at all real lemonade and was instead some horrid sugar that's taking five years off of our lives mixed with whatever makes the color of the drink the same as construction workers glow-in-the-dark vests that I'm sure will have like, ten different studies on how it gives you some cardiovascular disorder from overexposure in twenty years. There's a waxy ring of chapstick around my straw, so it's easy to tell which one to drink from. Mike had gotten just the one giant drink and two straws, shoving them in with a smooth smile as he handed me the already sweaty, Pepsi branded cup to hold while we walked. I think he didn't know that I noticed the twelve year old boy who'd been five people ahead of us in line do the same thing with his date earlier, but it was a cute gesture nonetheless.

"Yeah. I don't know why, it just felt comforting. Wind fuckin' up my hair and shit," he said, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he watched the two girls, who are sticking their tongues out at us as they whirl by.

"What, like you were flying away from your problems?" I ask, genuinely guessing.

"Nah, I don't really think of it like that. Just felt like I was somewhere else for a bit. Could close my eyes and the only anxiety I felt was whether or not Genie there was gonna fucken drop me," he said, glancing at me and smirking as he points at the giant airbrushed painting of Genie from Aladdin on the side of the ride. That's definitely not licensed.

"Have you eaten?" Mike asks softly, coming a little closer to me as his other hand cups my opposite cheek. At that I shake my head, pressing my lips together.

"It was all just some giant fiasco," I said as I laughed while trying to aim my basketball for the hoop several feet in front of me. Mike's made like five goals in a row and is proudly holding a very cheap rainbow dolphin with lopsided eyes for me while he watches me struggle just to get one.

"What, your prom date?" He teased, leaning closer to my ear as I take a shot. And miss. Again. "Or this?"

I turned to him, glaring and trying to suppress my amused smile.

"The date was fine, my hair was horrid," I said, turning away from the man working the booth who was trying to convince me to try again.

"I always like your hair," Mike says softly, one hand stroking my hair as he presses his forehead against mine. God, why won't he just tear into me already? The anticipation is fucking killing me.

I open my mouth to respond, but I just hiccup instead. At that he gently helps me up, guiding me out of the bathroom and leading me into the kitchen where he promises a leftover bowl of chicken noodle soup has my name written all over it in the fridge.

There's a thousand insecure questions I want to ask right now. Does he hate me? Will he hate me? Is this just a prelude to an awful breakup? But instead I just cling to my thoughts quietly, not wanting an answer to anything. Reality fading in and out of focus.

The kitchen is quiet as he moves about, dishing out the leftovers and putting them in the cheap, stained microwave he'd had to buy when Abby blew up the last one with a pitiful attempt at making her own rice Krispy treats. He leans against the counter as we wait for the rattling machine to finish, neither of us really saying anything as my leg bounces wildly in anxiety.

"Are you okay?" Mike asks softly after a moment, tilting his head. His arms are crossed in front of him, which is normal for Mike but it still makes me on edge.

I try again to speak, but I can't. It feels like I'll just blow up again if I do. So I just shrug instead, not wanting to talk about the lengthy screaming match I'd managed to find myself in earlier that night.

The microwave beeps loudly, causing us both to start, Mike pulling the door open quickly to shut it up and take out the now hot bowl, hissing under his breath at himself for not grabbing a towel as he quickly moves to set it down in front of me. If I'd been in a better state I would've laughed at the admittedly comical sight, but I felt like I'd done enough at his expense for one night.

Once situated, there's long while of silence. No other noise except for my spoon clinking against my bowl as I eat quietly, Mike watching me across the glass table as he takes a few drinks from his clear glass of water, head on his large hand. A clock ticks in the other room, the hour later than I'd wanted to be when I showed up unannounced.

"I'm sorry," I finally say in a soft voice, my spoon scraping soundlessly against the maroon bowl. "I just didn't know where else to go."

He smiles softly at that, his hand reaching across the table for mine. The touch meant to be comforting instead sends me back into my thoughts, my body stiffening as my mind tries to distract me from my anxiety and doubt.

Our hands had been brushing against each other for hours as we'd walked. Both of us were too nervous to take the others, which is a bit silly since we were grown adults. But really we hadn't had any serious discussions yet. We were still in the dinners and texting phase, dancing around any serious 'what is this' talks until we felt like we would both have similar answers ready for any questions. The night had settled in solidly now, the fairgrounds only alive by the bright lights of the rides.

The grazing, however, had come to an end when the ferris wheel started clicking towards what felt like my untimely demise.

I fucking hate ferris wheels, fun fact.

I don't think Mike particularly likes them either, based off of how stiff his body was next to mine, his eyes trained dead ahead, his jaw clenched. I think he might break a tooth. Or maybe I'm projecting.

Abby and Lisa had been insistent on riding it, and had been even more insistent that Mike and I needed to ride something with them before the night was over. And even though we both looked at the thing with a pit in our stomach, neither of us felt ridiculous about being grown adults on that ride as opposed to all the others flooded with teens and kids dodging in and out, stomping in puddles of who knows what on their way to the next ride. So we gritted our teeth, handed over our tickets and got into the cart right behind Abby and Lisa, who wouldn't stop looking back at us with amused eyes, whispering into each other's each as they covered their mouths.

"My dad worked as a carnie," I blurted out as we hung mid air, halfway up the ride while they still loaded people in. "These things are fucken sturdy."

Mike didn't look at me. Or at least he didn't turn his head. I didn't either. His silence makes my anxiety a bit worse, wondering if my random fact had somehow irritated him, or if there was something I was supposed to do that I wasn't picking up on.

"... I'm gonna die to Creed," he finally said between his gritted teeth.

My brows furrow for a moment before I realize what song is playing, and then I'm laughing. Maybe a little too much, but that's the anxiety. Abby and Lisa are darting their heads around to look down at us, trying to see what's set me off, and Creed's taking One Last Breath on the blaring radio somewhere around us as they have been for the past however many months with the top song.

"I'm never gonna escape this, they play this way too much at work," I laughed. And he started laughing too, both of us white knuckled as we gripped the bar in front of us. Then we move up again, and the cart is slightly rocking, making me feel ill.

"That's okay," Mike says softly, his thumb trailing across my knuckles as I stare down at our hands. "I was missing you, anyways."

I look up at him, trying to read his expression, my head still trying to balance my focuses. There's concern in his eyes, obvious as he realizes how awful this particular episode is.

Abby is yelling something at us, but my head is buzzing with too much anxiety to hear her.

"Go away!" Mike yells back at her, waving his hand in irritation, then stopping as he realizes he's rocking the cart. He looked back at me anxiously, trying to smile. It just looked like he'd been shot instead. "Sisters," he said shyly.

"What's she saying?" I asked him, leaning closer to hear him better over the heavy guitar.

"Nothing," he insisted. "She's just being twelve."

I go to look up, only to feel his hand on top of mine, warm and strong as he grips it a little too hard for the first time, but I think that's out of anxiety too. No matter what, the first move makes me more dizzy.

"Your dad worked fairs?" He asked anxiously, obviously trying to change the subject.

"I should've called first," I say softly, leaning onto the table and pushing the empty bowl away from me as I lay on top of my arm.

"It's okay," he reminds me in a soft voice, rising from his chair while still holding my hand. "You're home now."

"Well, I'm at your home now," I hiccup into my arm. His arms wrap around me, guiding me up and into his warm embrace that I'd been longing for for what felt like hours.

"I thought you said you liked flying!" I laughed, terrified.

"Flying! This is sitting still while dangling above death!" Mike clarified. The carts began clicking again, and we now had an easier view of the two girls in front of us, making him gasp and yell out Abby's full name in scolding.

I see why he didn't want me to look up. Abby and Lisa are miming a make-out session while they giggle obnoxiously.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna fucking ground her," he groaned, covering his forehead with his other hand. His face is completely red, his body so stiff it feels like I could break off his arm with barely any pressure, and my own heart is slamming so hard against my chest I think it's visible.

One more click and we'll be at the top. Great.

He's looking down at me, I think he's trying to get me to refocus but I just can't. I've done my duties for the night, and now I'm stuck in this emotional pit of hatred and numbness as my mind tries to remind me of a better time that just makes me feel worse because Mike is speaking again and I just can't hear him.

"She's being a wingman. Really, she's just spotting a good opportunity," I rambled in Abby's defense. Mike glanced at me, then at the tweens in front of us.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice nerve wracked.

"Oh yeah. Every little sister does it. I mean, it's partially based in torture, but overall she's trying to help," I said quickly, my breath shortening.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking just as pale as me.

"I fucking hate heights, please distract me," I pleaded quickly, only to immediately feel his teeth click loudly against mine as he kissed me, his lips sweet with sugar and hands nearly breaking mine from his tight grip, Abby and Lisa whooping obnoxiously in front of us as we freeze in the moment. It's clumsy, certainly. And it's obvious on both ends how long it's been since either of us have done this. But it's an effective method, my mind beginning to refocus on the taste of the borderline awful lemonade fresh on his breath, his shaking hand moving from the bar to cup my cheek cold from the wind. My eyes widen in surprise, the music swelling around us and the lights somehow brighter as we rock above the rest of the fair in the squeaking booth.

When he pulls away, there's a soft smile on his face, his tongue quickly darting out to taste his own lips.

"... I like your chapstick," he said shyly, neither of us focused on the fact that we're now moving steadily in the ride, fully tuned in to the other.

"Thanks," I said softly, cheeks burning against his touch. "Strawberry."

There's a long second of nothing, and I'm vaguely aware of Abby and Lisa screaming "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" And someone is trying to shush them. I know it's not Mike because he's staring at me like an idiot. Completely satisfied and dramatically more calm as he leans in for another kiss, this time pulling me fully into his embrace.

"You're home," Mike repeats against my lips, then moving to trail along my cheeks, his hands carefully cupping my face once more as his touch grounds me back in reality. "I'll be here when your mind gets back."

As my own hands graze along his soft, cotton shirt, I feel my pulse begin to relax. Doubt beginning to creep away as his lips trail along my jaw, slowly working to my neck. It's not a demanding touch. It's just comfort. And he'll keep doing this until I return to him like I always do, and then he'll keep doing it until we both fall asleep in a tight embrace under a dozen blankets, half of which will be gone by morning as we wake in a pool of sweat across the bed from each other, only to seek the other out again in wakefulness. And there will be answers for his questions, and I'll be fine.

I'm home now.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

I FINALLY FUCKING PUBLISHED SOMETHING. HOLY FUCK I'M OVERWORKED. (Fun fact, this was fucking hard because I was actively disassociating while writing the whole thing. Reader just like me frfr)

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

•▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

#josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson #jhutch #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #jhutch1992 #fnaf mike schmidt #fnaf mike #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt x you

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gloryy-vs · 2 years

Note

heyy!! could i have a request with neteyam x reader and she is kinda a sarcastic lil teenager and he wants to get to know her as she’s helping him in the metkayina ways?

Love y’a and love your writing!!

Who You Are

|| yes of course. y’all have the best ideas 😭 this wasn’t proof read and i tried making the ending a lil different than my other fics so it doesn’t get repetitive. hopefully i did this request justice 🫶🏻

characters: neteyam x metkayina!reader

ratings: SFW , sassy reader , head over heels Neteyam

You laughed to yourself, seeing Aonung trip over the sand during his walk of shame. His dad had just scolded him for giving the Sully family a hard time. Neteyam followed behind, hiding a laugh after seeing your own amused face. Your tail whipped Aonung as he walked by, and he turned around with a, ‘Just wait till later’ look. You flipped him off and rolled your eyes. He always tried to look tough, despite you two being friends he was always an ass.

Neteyam scratched his head, standing next to you awkwardly. “It was a difficult conversation to hear. I cant tell if my dad is scary or if Tonowari is..” You scoffed, “They’re both equally horrifying. Especially when they yell like they’re the only ones in the clan.” You shook your head, tying back your braided hair.

“Alright, let’s get some diving training in, Mr. Fall off a still Ilu.” You said while nudging him with your elbow before turning away from him to walk to the active waves. “It was one time! I didn’t get good balance!” Neteyam said, following behind you quickly.

You clicked your tongue, “Woo, tuctuctuc. Woo tuctuc.” Your Ilu, Rita emergent from the waves, and Neteyam mimicked your ways as well, his rushing to him and splashing him with water. “I feel like he just has something against me.” He said, wiping off his face with his large hands.

“Psst, your Ilu is a girl.” You said, a smile forming on your face while you straddled Riti. Neteyam groaned, petting his underwater friend. “Yo, sorry bro- girl, sis? No wonder you’re fed up with me..” He straddled her, grabbing onto the handle and looking up at you shyly. His smile looked so soft, and he waited for you to dive first. You raised a brow, not taking the lead this time,

“Your turn to dive in first, Yam.” You said while crossing your arms. He just gave you a sad look, taking a series of deep breathes, his blue cheeks puffing out as he dived in, his Ilu already taking off with yours following next to him just as fast.

‘You have good breath control. You learn quickly.’ You signed, releasing the handle of your Ilu for a short while before swimming up to quickly grab it again. Neteyam nodded happily, glad he was getting praise. You two continued circling around, chasing coral before heading to the surface so he could get some air.

“That was a good run, you did great.” You said with your eyes closed, and baby blue hands pushing back stray braids and hairs. He stared at you, the way your torso tensed up along with your arms as you raised them above your head. He covered the lower bit of his face with his hand before turning to you again with an ego. “You should give me a date as a reward.” Neteyam said with confidence. “I wanna get to know you, without that sarcastic little tone.” You actually laughed out loud, “You want a date, beat me in a race and you’ll know everything about me.”

Neteyam grabbed your hand, shaking it as a deal before petting his Ilu and motivation. “Let’s do it. You’ll know i’ll win.” You smirked, “Alright, big boy. Let’s see how fast you can go.” Both of you readied up, Ilu’s speeding off into the depths of the ocean.

Safe to say Neteyam definitely won that date. Knowing that his crush on you and that sassy little personality of yours is his biggest weakness.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam x you #avatar neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam #avatar loak #avatar way of water #avatar jake #avatar

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whumpback-wail · 10 months

Text

05 - Divulgence

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist

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IMPORTANT NOTICE: Reminder that this fanfic contains dark and mature themes. The TW/CW are in the masterlist and are constantly updated as I add each chapter. Please reread the warnings, proceed only after you reread the warnings. If you don't like/can't handle the topics mentioned in the TW/CW, please DO NOT read. This work is 100000% fictional and any similarities to real life people and events are purely coincidental, and none of the characters (especially the villains) are real. Again, please DO NOT read if you are not certain you can handle these topics or are in a bad place mentally. Minors are strictly forbidden. I only create content, and I am not responsible for your personal content preference and moderation.

They say being pregnant means everyday is another day closer to meeting the love of your life. One anticipates meeting the fruit of their love with their spouse, looking forward to the bright sunshine days of taking care of that precious someone.

(y/n) did not understand that feeling. In fact she felt the exact opposite, as she slid down the walls of the bathroom, legs too weak to support her own weight. The pregnancy stick in her hand fell to the floor, bouncing to a stop face up, showing the positive sign. Why does this happen to her? What did she ever do to deserve this?

She has to call nurse Komaki, she will know what to do. The thing was still a cell after all, with no soul not consciousness, it should be perfectly fine. It would be so much more cruel to keep the innocent being and let it be born, only for them to later be neglected and unloved. No child deserves that. Not even one born from being forced into her womb by the person she despised the most.

It was nearing lunch, and she knew her fiancé would be back by then, he always makes time to have lunch with her. She has to tell nurse Komaki fast.

(y/n) took several deep breaths to calm herself, and then slowly got up to her bed again, pressing the call button.

A few moments later, she heard the door open.

"Nurse Komaki, I-" (y/n) turned her head, and came face to face with a different nurse altogether. It was not Komaki.

"I'm sorry, nurse Komaki is away right now, her shift will start later tonight. Is there anything I can help you with, miss (y/n)?"

(y/n) blinked back her tears, "n-no. It's okay, nothing too serious."

The nurse stood there, contemplating. "Are you sure miss?"

(y/n) nodded, racking her brain to think of an excuse or anything to justify calling a nurse to her room for nothing. "oh umm… may I have some water please?"

"Sure. It will be delivered here in a moment. Don't hesitate to call me if there's anything else that you need, okay?"

(y/n) hummed and thanked her. She watched as the nurse exit her room. She wanted Komaki, she's the only nurse (y/n) trusted at this moment, especially with something like this.

It wasn't long until the water is delivered to her room, which arrived at about the same time as Wriothesley.

He greeted her with a smile. It normally made her feel safe and loved, but right now, (y/n)'s heart sank to her stomach

"Hey, how's my sunshine doing?"

He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the forehead. Wriothesley knew he should be careful around her, as her therapist had suggested to him, at least until she is less jumpy and can initiate affectionate gestures more. So far she's taking his affections very well, which made him happy about her progress.

"As usual," (y/n) forced a smile, briefly looking into his eyes before quickly averting her gaze back to her hands. She picked at a loose string on her blanket.

Speak more, he will notice something is off.

"The healers were a great help to my physical injuries. But they kept stopping after a little while, saying I should rest up because the sped up healing is also draining my energy."

Wriothesley nodded, "I was told, yeah. How's your stomach? Got anything you're craving to eat?"

(y/n) froze. "What?" She managed to not stammer, but her voice cracked as her heart was suddenly frozen with fear. Did he find out? How did he know-

"Just wondering how your stomach felt." Wriothesley tilted his head, confused. It was a small quirk she had found endearing.

"The doctors did say you can only eat soft food for a while to avoid refeeding syndrome, but yesterday you were finally allowed to start eating bread and some fowl. Also because you threw up yesterday."

"Oh…" (y/n) felt stupid, "it's alright now, although I don't really feel like eating."

Wriothesley watched her for a moment. He has always been someone perceptive, that's how he knew who to trust and who to avoid in meropide while still serving his sentence, and that's how he could rise through the ranks and become the duke, despite his humble beginnings. At that moment, something is off about his fiancée.

“Darling are you okay?” he took her hand in his, his other hand brushing loose strands of her hair behind her ear, “I feel like you have something weighing your mind. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

For a moment, (y/n) wavered. Is it really okay to tell him about her pregnancy? She knew Wriothesley wouldn’t blame her, after all, what happened was not something she wanted, far from it. So technically it’s not her fault right? But a small nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her to just keep it to herself for now. There were too many what ifs. It’s safer to just keep quiet about it and deal with it under wraps. She’ll tell him, of course she will, but not now.

“I’m fine,” she forced herself to look into his eyes, a small smile on her lips. “Just wondering how much longer I have to stay cooped up in here.”

Lunch went well with Wriothesley, he told her about his day. He went back to the Fortress of Meropide for a while, to keep an eye on how things are going there, before coming over to her for lunch. After this he planned to proceed with investigations, and perhaps wrap things up early so he could spend more time with her after dinner.

(y/n) managed to eat a little more, despite the anxiety induced nausea, at least enough to not make her look suspicious.

Once lunch was over, Wriothesley gave her another peck on the forehead and left to continue with investigations, with promises of taking (y/n) to the gardens near the hospital once the doctors gave her the clear, and perhaps visit Navia and Neuvilette, as the two are also her friend, as much as they are to him. He wanted more than anything to stay with her the whole time she recovered, but seeing how she often flinched if he moved a little too quickly, or how her eyes often went blank as if she was not really there, he knew he had to do something about it. The therapist assigned to her told him that she may need some time to process through the trauma, and that it was natural that she would be jumpy for the time being, and would need some space too, as stifling her would also be bad for her mental wellbeing.

He already discussed all the options, and what’s best for (y/n). Once (y/n) has recovered some more physically, and once she is ready, he would take her home and nurse her back to health. He would appoint someone else as the Duke of Meropide if that was needed to get him more time off. Right now, he has something else to do.

He did not tell her that he would be going back to the facility, specifically the hidden passage they found inside her cell. Chlorinde had done a great job in capturing the man, living up to her title of champion duelist.

The entrance was so well hidden in the room, so much so that they had to get Aether to use his elemental sight to find. They had followed the hidden maze-like pathway in the room (y/n) was kept in, and it had led them to an underground base, perhaps their real base of operations. Several men were captured, including Dougier, they seem to work directly with Arderne who unfortunately was nowhere in sight. They were all taken into custody. Wriothesley tensed as he remembered their findings.

"Wriothesley you might want to see this." He turned his head towards Neuvilette who a moment ago was rummaging through papers on a desk. The Iudex now held out a file towards him, his face grim.

The Duke took the file and opened it. There were more papers, this time it contained more detailed reports of experiments done to the people. He ruffled through the pages, skimming the words for one specific name. He found it.

Experiment Clearance Form

Title: Vision Trial Variation 2

Principal Investigator: Il Dottore

Assistant: Arderne

Subject: 1102 a.k.a. (y/n)

Vision: Pyro

This form acknowledges the approval of the experiment titled "Vision Trial Variation 2" conducted by Arderne. The experiment aims to implement the theory of vision injections on humans, followed by observation to discover the effects.

The experiment poses high risks to participants. Potential risks include memory loss, increased body temperatures, seizures, and the possibility of death. Steps have been taken to mitigate these risks. Subject is physically weakened before the start to lower the chances of the body rejecting the injection, thus increasing the success rate of this experiment. On the occasion that this experiment would fail, the study will move on to Vision Trial Variation 3, and the current subject will be discarded.

Fuck.

“Did we find any traces of Arderne?” Wriothesley’s voice dropped several octaves, Neuvilette knew what this meant.

“There are none so far,” he placed a reassuring hand on Wriothesley, “But we do have Dougier now, and we are taking him and the others to custody. We can get more information out of them-”

Wriothesley shook him off and landed a harsh kick on a table to the side, immediately breaking it. He wanted to murder them all, especially that bastard Dottore. He had heard rumours of him doing crazy experiments, but to think it happened right here in Fontaine, with his fiancee? His breaths were shaky with barely controlled rage.

“Wriothesley, I understand how frustrating this is. (y/n) is also my dear friend.” Neuvilette spoke in the most soothing tone he could muster up. “Trust me, I am just as upset as you are in this, but we have to keep a level head. For (y/n)’s sake and all the victims that were forced into this.”

They were deep underground, had they been up on the surface, they would see heavy rain mixed with snow, and thunderstorms raging outside, the weather mirroring the Iudex’s inner turmoil on the entire situation.

• • •

(y/n) wondered if she was dead or dreaming the moment she saw herself on the familiar bed of her room in the facility. Dr Arderne was standing at the foot of her bed reading through the information on his clipboard, while Dougier was securing her arms and legs with restraints.

She had been too weak to resist, having been starved for days without food, the only nutrition she got was through her IV drip and glasses of suspiciously blue coloured water, which she had no choice but to drink.

"Good morning 1102, ready for the next dose? Arderne readied a syringe. It was filled with shimmery red liquid, the glow seemed to pulse the closer it gets to her.

"F-Fuck you Arderne." (y/n) managed to mumble, making Dougier snicker.

Arderne held (y/n)'s arm and injected the contents of the syringe into her. At first it felt like nothing, but gradually she could feel it start to burn, as if fire was coursing through her veins.

It wasn't long until the burning sensation started to feel unbearable. Hot white pain spreads from the point of injection to all over her body. She bit her tongue, trying not to scream, she will not give them the satisfaction of seeing her in pain. She won't-

(y/n) jolted awake, her breaths heavy and ragged and her heart was pounding in her chest. Fuck.

It was a dream. She was safe. It was just a dream.

The room she was in, despite being a hospital room, it was completely different from the facility, with flowers her friends and fiancé got for her, and the comforting weight of her big blubberbeast plushie that Wriothesley brought from their bed at home. She hugged the plush tightly and pressed her nose to its soft fur. It smelled just like Wriothesley, as he had sprayed his cologne all over it, something she often did even before… all this.

(y/n) tried to remember what her therapist had told her.

My name is (y/n), I am at the Fontaine hospital, guarded by the Spina di Rosula, Wriothesley stays with me during the night, and stops by for lunch. I am safe, and I am recovering.

Her therapist told her that her dreams would eventually go away as her mind heals, but how long will that take?

Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was still early, too early for Wriothesley to come back from his investigation. He had left a book with her some days ago, which she picked up and started to read, trying to get her mind off things.

As she reached for the book on her night stand, suddenly (y/n) felt the familiar tingle in her hands, running all the way up her arms. It was warm and welcoming, it felt like home. A split second later, the book she was reaching for suddenly burst into flames.

• • •

Wriothesley watched Neuvilette from behind the one way glass as the latter asked Dougier more and more questions. The Iudex had presented all the evidence they found on the table. Laying it all out for Dougier as he asked question after question that Dougier only gave vague answers to, sometimes only responding with chuckles. The scum was a goner, his mind seemingly corrupted by the facility.

He wanted to be the one who personally interrogates the vile man, but Neuvilette had forbidden him from entering, for fear of what Wriothesley would do to the suspect. Still, watching from behind the glass was frustrating, he wished Neuvilette would let them do interrogations in Meropide, where it was outside Fontaine’s jurisdiction, so they could use other means to get information.

“This is going nowhere,” Wriothesley mumbled and pushed open the door leading into the interrogation room. Fuck the consequences, he’ll probably just get an earful from Neuvilette later.

At the sight of Wriothesley, Dougier’s eyes lit up in a nasty way that the Duke did not like at all. “Ah your Grace, here to play the bad cop now?”

“Seeing how you’re going nowhere with Neuvilette, I might as well do.”

Wriothesley grabbed the chair at the corner of the room and dragged it over to sit beside Neuvilette, who was glancing at Wriothesley cautiously.

“So do you feel like talking now Dougier? I thought you were a changed man after you were released.”

Dougier only scoffed, “then I had you fooled. You have no idea what kind of grudge I hold against you, Wriothesley. You ruined the community I built in Meropide.”

“Community? You call that community? You basically started a cult, and no one liked being in there.” Wriothesley scowled.

“Nevertheless,” Dougier continued, “I had my revenge. You should have heard how much (y/n) screamed when Arderne injected her vision into her.”

Wriothesley froze. He knew about what happened but hearing it from Dougier was different from reading it on the files they found.

Dougier, seeing the change in Wriothesley’s demeanour, continued. “She was a brave one, that bitch. Endured hours upon hours of our treatment, sometimes without anaesthesia. And that was after we put her in solitary confinement. We were wrong thinking we broke her spirit already, and yet she’s still fighting.”

"And you did this to all the people in the Vision Trials?" Neuvilette asked, the pen in his hand moving to take notes.

Dougier ignored him, his eyes still glued on Wriothesley's.

"How can we reverse the vision injections?" Wriothesley asked, trying to keep his breathing steady. He knew he couldn't try anything with Neuvilette around.

"You'll have to ask Arderne for that," Dougier leaned back on his chair, "but all I know is while (y/n) is still alive, she's a failure. She had her vision inside her yet it never seemed to work, not even when we prompted her."

"What do you mean prompted her?" Neuvilette asked, and this time, Dougier turned his eyes to him..

"Oh we threatened her, and when it didn't work, beat her, did whatever to make her call on her pyro element and use the vision in her. That never seemed to work."

Wriothesley and Neuvilette were tense, the former had his fists clenched so hard.

"That was when I took her to the basement, the cold weather should prompt the vision to at least keep her warm." Dougier turned to Wriothesley, a deranged look danced in his eyes as he smiled at him.

"I can see why you like 1102. She was so brave. She never once begged or called out for you even with all the beatings, that is, until I put my cock inside her-”

Suddenly Dougier was on the ground. Wriothesley had moved so fast Neuvilette barely registered him vaulting over the table and landing a fist on Dougier's face. He managed to hammer down his fists onto Dougier some more before he felt multiple hands pull him backwards off Dougier, who was unconscious in a bloodied mess.

"GET OFF ME." He yelled at the gardemeks who held him back, but Neuvilette soon stepped in front of him, blocking his view of Dougier who was being tended to by medics.

"Wriothesley," his voice was stern, "the punching can wait until after his sentence. If he is sentenced back to Meropide then it is under your jurisdiction."

Wriothesley was breathing heavily, "he… he also… Archons, (y/n)..."

"I already let you land several hits on him" Neuvilette placed a hand on his shoulder, "but we need him alive for more information on the case, and for his trials."

Wriothesley watched, seething with rage as Dougier was taken away by the medics for further treatment. He wanted the scum to suffer as much as, if not more than (y/n). How could anyone do this to her?

Neuvilette sighed and motioned for the gardemeks to release Wriothesley, "I think it's best if you go visit (y/n) for now. I think you two need to talk."

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(;;;*_*)--c<ノ°益°)ノ _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_

A/N

…now I'm sad... why do I do this to myself :") wrote this while hugging my blåhaj because I needed that warm shorky embrace.

(Tuna says hi :D and hopes everyone is okay after reading this)

I apologize for the late update, some parts of the chapter had to be rewritten to make more sense, but in the end it became longer than I planned (and I had to cut it here and continue next chapter)

Thanks for sticking around this long, I hope the update hurt you all as much as it did for me to write :"))) please stay safe and take care, and hug your pets/plushies for me 💕

P.s. I’m not sure how to write a proper experiment clearance form TwT I hope that wasn’t too off.

Taglist: @almosteggs @quuela @tempest1art @yamanaka13-blog @arseneumbra @kimmeaahh @cottonfluffs @randomidk-123 @applejayee @keigo-hawks-takami-simp @mechanicalbeat1 @aribae14 @bforbiblio @supernerdycookietrashblrr @furblrwurblr @chifuyus-kitty @bunnibabe @the-real-fandom-person

#wriothesley x reader #whump #anime whump #whump writing #whump fanfic #wriothesley #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley angst #wriothesley x reader angst #hurt/comfort

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judesmoonbeauty · 5 months

Text

Fairytale Final Assessment 1st Anniversary SE: Jude Jazza's Epilogue ཐིཋྀ

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere.

CW: Brief mention of castration. Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with/// Hour Glass Banners Credit: @/natimiles ཐིཋྀ

Kate, your work has reached my ears. Thank you as always.

Therefore, I would like you to evaluate one thing.

I wonder if Jude, who is cursed, is worthy of the Crown.

After reading the letter from Her Majesty several times, I finally understood.

Just the other day, Jude and I were engaged in a battle over the Fairytale Keeper Continuation Agreement.

(Does that mean I'm going to assess Jude this time?)

(You're giving me the opportunity to make a fair judgment. Her Majesty is indeed very open-minded.)

(If it's an assignment, I have to face Jude properly and submit a report!)

There is no mention in the text that the person should be kept in the dark.

I mean, the quickest way to do that is to ask Jude himself about it, and his intentions to stay at Crown.

Jude: I don't know anything about that. When you ask someone for something, shouldn’t you pay them for the information?

(I can't for the life of me believe that he will tell me honestly….)

(Come to think of it, I never asked Jude in depth why he was at Crown.)

It’s said that he dared to sign a contract with Crown when Victor suspiciously approached him with a tearful face, I’m sure…. I’m not wrong that it was to get information you need.

(I guess I have no choice but to observe Jude...)

Ellis: Your brow’s wrinkled. Thinking?

Kate: Oh, Ellis.

Kate: Just in time! Do you know where Jude is today?

Ellis: It seems like Jude went on a mission after showing up at work. What's wrong?

Kate: Actually...

When I explained the reason, Ellis smiled.

Ellis: I'm joining Jude after this, so let’s go together.

Ellis led us to a pub with a suspicious atmosphere even though it was daytime.

There, Jude was in the middle of a cruel and merciless judgment.

Jude: Oy, no runnin’ away. The story is your usin’ illegal sleeping pills, messin’ ‘round with girls, and sellin’ ‘em off.

Scoundrels: Guh….!

Ellis: Kate , if bottles start flying, it won’t be safe, so stay here and hide.

Ellis: I’ll be there.

Kate: Ah, yes! Ellis, be careful not to get hurt too.

Ellis: Jude, here you go.

Jude: Tsk, what’re ya waitin’ for?

Ellis: I'm sorry. I'll try a little harder to make up for my tardiness.

I watch Jude and Ellis fight together from the shadows.

Liquor bottles and people lightly fly through the air, and the sound of blows rings out.

(Hmmm...this is what it means to scream.)

(This is supposed to be a Crown assignment.)

Jude does not follow the orders of others unconditionally unless the conditions are acceptable.

Therefore, there must be a reason why Jude accepted this mission.

In the meantime, everyone had fallen to the ground.

Jude: What, ya think I'm gonna kill ya? I’m not gonna to kill ya.

Jude: There's a coal mine at the far end of the country, and I thought it’d be fun doin’ manual labor there.

Scoundrels: ……. A coal mine?

Jude: Before you go to a cold, dark, and fun place, I'll give you a present.

Jude: Ellis, take ‘em to the black market surgeon later. Hand ‘em all over to be castrated.

Ellis: Yeah, okay. If it makes you happy, Jude.

As the thugs screamed in despair, Jude put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it.

Jude: The prevalence of inferior products is proof that the drugs weren’t distributed sufficiently.

Jude: ……Guess we’ll just have to handle it ourselves.

Jude's company eliminates the value of inferior products by distributing the correct products.

(That’s how Jude tries to eliminate evil at its source.)

Thanks to all the time I've spent, I had unintentionally come to understand Jude's way of doing things.

(The method may be as radical as ever.)

(But, there are somethings you can not protect with a straightforward approach. That’s why…)

Kate: Jude is absolutely essential to Crown…..

Jude: So, how long are you going to be sneaking around in there?

Kate: ….ah.

I was thrown onto a bed in a room at the back of the pub, and his hands restrained me while lying down.

Jude: You’re a real bad princess for peeping without permission.

Jude: So, what are you up to now?

Kate: That’s…..

Jude: I could torture ya and make ya spit it out. You're a pervert who expects to be tortured, aren't ya?

I could smell the scent of sandalwood wafting from Jude, and my body temperature seemed to rise once.

Jude: Ha. Why’re ya lookin’ so hopeful? Ya really are a pervert who likes things that feel good.

Kate: T-that's wrong! Actually-

Jude: Hmmm, reverse assessment.

Jude: That's just like that woman who loves fairness. ***

Jude: So, ya followed me ‘round to review me. You've come a long way.

Kate: As for following you around without telling you, I'm sorry.

Kate: But thanks to that, I was able to reaffirm what’s important to me.

Jude: What?

Kate: You are definitely suited for the Crown.

Jude: Ha. Who d’ya think ya are?

Kate: I’m a fairytale keeper. Hehe, I think I can write a good report with this.

Kate: I'll write it perfectly, so you can rest assured, Jude. Well then, I'm -

Jude: Why’re ya tryin’ to go home? There's no way ya could just spy on me and go for free.

Kate: Eh.

Jude: There's another matter to tend to.

Jude: I just need a decoy. You love hide-and-seek, don't ya?

Kate: A decoy!?

Jude: Poor thing. Ya wanna go home, but can’t. Pay the price for sneaking without permission.

Kate: Oh, come on….!

Jude: Those defiant eyes are so temptin’.

Amethyst eyes looked down at me cruelly becoming distorted.

Kate: In the report, you know I can write down all of your actions, Jude.

Jude: Write, write. However…

Jude leaned forward and looked into my face.

Jude: You...wouldn't you be lonely without me?***

Kate: …….

Kate: That’s not true….!

Jude: Huh. What are ya upset ‘bout?

[Master List]

***白々しい This appears to be a nuance: Jude’s being insincere about the Queen’s apparent fairness. It can be rendered white-wash, insincere, bare-faced (lie), shameless, but I felt that this was used just to explain his insincerity or doubtfulness in the Queen. ***Just to clarify, Kate is essentially threatening that what she writes in her report about Jude can cause his dismissal from Crown. So, that's why he tells her to write it, but.....she'll miss him, won't she?

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