#also YES i know the horses look . small . but i was too deep in and its my first time drawing horses please. have mercy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

matty-bear · 2 months

Text

The Elevator Game Gone Wrong PT.2 [M.S]

type: fic!

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: VERY long, sfw, fluffy, alternate universe, paranormal activity, getting an attachment, seeing spirits, elevators

summary: As you and the triplets join Sam and Colby in investigating the most haunted hotel in Texas, the two ghost hunters suggest that Matt participates in a ritual called The Elevator Game. Little did everyone know that the ritual would actually work and your boyfriend would get stuck in another part of existence.

notes: part two is finally here ! hope you guys enjoy it ^^ I really did NOT expect the first part to get so much attention but tysm for all the love ! I appreciate all of you very much <33 also, yes thats how this fic is gonna end there will NOT be a part three ;3 anywho, happy reading !

WC: 8969

PT1

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Matt?” You call out, your voice echoing rather loudly inside the empty elevator. You feel tears prick your eyes as you crouch down and take the discarded camera and horse necklace up off the floor. You practically cradle them both to your chest and shut your eyes tightly, your mind starting to spin as you begin to spiral.

This can’t be happening.

The stupid ritual actually worked and Matt is gone.

He’s stuck, by himself, in another plane of existence and you have no idea how to help him escape it.

You should’ve persuaded him to not go. You should’ve been a good girlfriend and held him back. (As mean and selfish as that sounds)

I mean if you didn’t let him go in the elevator the second time, this wouldn’t have happened right? Hell, if you didn’t let him go in the elevator period none of this would’ve happened.

Sam and Colby probably would’ve gone in the elevator together. They could handle it, right? Of course, they could! They fucking professional ghost hunters for crying out loud!

Forget about them… Matt is gone. Your boyfriend is gone and the chance of seeing him again is slim to none. What the fuck are you gonna do?

You feel your chest tighten as you feel a lump form in your throat. As tears begin to cascade down your cheeks at a slow pace, you find it more difficult to breathe. Maybe it was because of the small space you were in or how your clothes were starting to become rather unbearable.

Who are you kidding, Matt is fucking gone.

You feel your chest tighten as you struggle to take air inside your lungs. The feeling made you panic more than you already were and you found yourself crawling back on your hands until your back hit the wall of the elevator. You hurriedly set the camera down next to you and begin to claw at your chest as you bring your knees up to your chest.

As more choked sobs escape your lips, the muffled sound of footsteps approaches you. You see a tall figure in your peripheral vision but can’t distinguish who it is. Everything was so blurry and you couldn’t hear a thing except for your heartbeat that began beating loudly in your eardrums.

You flinch rather harshly when you feel someone wrap their arms around you. You keep your head down as you allow the person to bring you against their chest.

“y/n.” The person calls. They tap your shoulder a few times to get you to look up at them. At the sight of an all too familiar mop of red hair, you find yourself relaxing a little. “There you are! Look, I need you to listen to my voice okay? Can you hear me?” Nick asks, his voice nothing but soft as he looks down at your trembling frame. It takes a moment for you to register the male’s question but when it finally clicks, you slowly nod your head.

“Okay, I need you to try your best and follow my breathing okay? Chris went to the car to grab some headphones and he’ll be back but as of right now, we need to try to ground ourselves okay? I’m right here. Just try to follow me.”

You manage to focus your still slightly blurry vision on Nick’s mouth and wait for him to start going through a few simple deep breathing exercises before you attempt to follow. The moment you try to inhale, you immediately begin to cough your heart out. You shake your head with a small whimper and lean your head against the redhead’s bicep as you feel your heart tighten.

“No, no, no. y/n, we need to try again. Come on, lift your head please.” Nick leans back a little to get you off him before he gently cups the side of your face, the sight of your tear-stained cheeks and pained expression as you begin hyperventilating breaking his heart. “Where the fuck is Chris? Does that mother fucker not know how to unlock a car and find a single pair of fucking headphones?” Nick looks behind him and locks eyes with Colby who’s looking down at the two of you worriedly.

“He’s coming!” Sam exclaims, heavy exhales escaping his lips as he runs back to the three of you.

“Fucking finally. God, my grandmother would be faster than his ass and she’s half fucking blind.” Colby smacks both of his hands over his face to muffle his laughter as Sam giggles and covers his mouth with his hand. Nick smiles softly and focuses his attention back on you as Chris runs up to the four of you.

“Here. I could only find yours.” The younger pants out as he holds the redhead’s Apple headphones out in front of him.

“That’s fine. What took you so fucking long?” Nick grumbles as he takes the headphones with his left hand and hurriedly digs in his pocket with the other.

“I couldn’t find the car.” Nick quickly looks up and sends a glare to Chris who’s rubbing his nape and looking down at his shoes.

“Of course you couldn’t.” After taking his phone out, the redhead quickly connects his headphones and opens up Spotify. “y/n look at me for a second. I need to put these on you.” You hesitantly comply and lift your head to allow the male to gently set his headphones on your head. After ensuring they’re comfortably over your ears, he quickly searches for a playlist that you and he often listen to and pushes play. The moment the soft beats of Halley’s Comet by Billie Eilish fill your ears, you find yourself claiming down nearly instantly.

You shut your eyes and allow yourself to get absorbed in the music as you lean against Nick again. You feel the latter wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace, one of his hands softly hitting your back in a steady rhythm. Your heartbeat begins to follow the beat made and you soon find yourself calming down. When you’re finally able to breathe properly, you let out a soft exhale and slowly open your eyes.

“Thank you, Nick.” You mumble softly, a faint sniffle coming shortly after your comment.

“Of course,” Nick replies with a small smile. The boys allow you to take a few minutes to get yourself together before you pull away from Nick’s embrace and pull the headphones off your head and set them around your neck. The redhead intently watches as you stand up to your feet, his eyes watching your every move as you heavily exhale and look down at Matt’s horse necklace in your hand.

“We need to get him back. I don’t care what we have to do, I need him back.” You state as you lift your head and look at Sam and Colby who are a few steps away from you.

“I don’t really know how to hit the rewind button on this ritual per se. I didn’t think it’d work so I didn’t bother looking up how to bring something back.” Sam says as he looks down and rubs his nape, his lips forming into a straight line as he stares at the floor.

“Well if you guys don’t figure out a way to get Matt back, I will not hesitate to do this stupid ritual over and over again until it takes me to the same universe he’s in. I'm sorry if I sound like a total jackass but I literally can’t live without Matt. And neither can Chris and Nick. We all need him back”

“Sam and I will scavenge the internet to try to find a way to fix this, promise. But as for right now, we need all of you guys to get out of the elevator.” Colby says, his voice soft as he mentions for you and Nick to step out. You exhale heavily and gently nod your head before you walk out of the elevator, Nick following close behind you.

You immediately make your way over to Chris who’s sitting on a bench across from the elevator. You look over at the male after sitting next to him and gently tap his knee to snap him out of the faint daze he’s in. After a moment, the male finally looks over at you and a frown immediately takes over your features at the sight of the male’s tear-filled eyes.

“Oh Chris…” You mumble. You quickly wrap an arm around the latter’s shoulder to pull him against your side. When you do, the male doesn’t hesitate to bury his face in your neck.

“I want Matt back.” Chris mumbles, his voice breaking slightly as he bites back the tears threatening to spill from his glossy eyes.

“I know. We all do.” As you begin to rub comforting circles on Chris’ back, Nick takes a seat on the other side of the male and joins your attempts of calming him down.

“Hey, guys?” Colby calls, his voice echoing in the elevator and seeping out into the hall.

“What’s up? You find something else?” Sam asks as he quickly makes his way over to the male.

“Yes, actually. I found a note under the camera but I can’t decipher it for the life of me.”

“What?” You quickly pick your head up and look over at Colby who’s stepping out of the elevator and looking intently at the camera in his hand. “Lemme see.”

The ghost hunter makes his way over to you and takes a small sheet of yellow paper off the bottom of the camera. You watch as his eyes skim over it a few more times before he hands it to you. Colby was right. On the small yellow sheet was horrible handwriting that was in…

Crayon?

“It looks like a kid wrote it.” You say, your eyes squinting as you try your best to decipher the words written.

“A kid?” Nick asks as he and Chris quickly turn around to look at you. Both boys lean closer to get a better look at the note in your hand, the same bewildered expressions appearing on their faces as they stare at the writing.

“Yall don’t think that Samantha wrote it, right?” Chris asks as he rips his gaze away from the note to look up at Sam and Colby who are already looking down at the three of you.

“I’m not sure... How could she send a note to us?” Sam asks as he crosses his arms over his chest, his face deep in thought as he also stares down at the note in your hand.

“Wait, is the onvoy still out?” You ask as you hand the note to Nick who has his hand out in front of him, gesturing you to give him the small piece of paper.

“Yeah, it’s right here,” Colby replies as he walks over to the said device that has been discarded in the middle of the floor. “You wanna ask something?”

“Yes please.” Colby gently nods his head and sets the onvoy next to you on the bench. You force your lips together in a straight line, a sudden surge of fear filling your veins as you stare down at the device. After inhaling and exhaling deeply, you ask your question.

“Samantha, are you the one that wrote the note that’s under the camera?”

Silence fills the lobby the moment the question escapes your lips. You take a glance up at Colby before you turn your attention back to the onvoy, nervousness filling your body as you begin to hear your heartbeat loudly in your ears.

Why isn’t it-

Your thought gets cut off when you feel a quick jab on the side of your thigh. Your breath quickly hitches as you flinch and quickly turn around, fear glossing over your eyes as you move closer to Chris. The moment you go to open your mouth to say something, the sound of the onvoy dinging alters the five of you. You quickly turn your head around at the sound and lean in closer to the onvoy to read the glowing response.

“It says yes.” You read, quickly leaning away from the device after you feel a cold shiver run down your spine.

“Wait, how the hell did she get the note to us?” Colby asks as he picks up the device and switches it off.

“I have no clue. And I kinda don’t wanna know so.” You reply, your voice trailing off as you hug your torso.

“I know what this says,” Nick states as he holds the yellow note in between his fingers. At the male’s statement, you and the rest of the boys quickly look over at him.

“What does it say?” Chris asks as he leans against the redhead’s shoulder, smiling slightly as he manages to make him fall back a little.

“It says mirror room but it’s just horribly misspelled. I mean it makes sense since Samantha is a literal child but.” Nick replies, a faint grunt escaping his lips as he pushes Chris off him and sits upright.

“Mirror room?” Sam repeats, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he takes a glance over at Colby.

“Is she talking about the Maximilian room inside The Mezzanine?” Chris asks, his head slightly tilting to the side as he looks up at the two ghost hunters in front of him. The moment the question escapes Chris’ lips, a small giggle escapes you at the feeling of two pokes coming in contact with your side again.

“Samantha, I am not built for this, please do this to Chris. He’s right here.” You beg as you quickly slam your arm firmly against your side. When you use your free hand to gently pat the younger triplet’s shoulder, the male’s face grows pale as his eyes widen in pure fear.

“Why would you say that?” Chris asks through gritted teeth. “Samantha, she doesn’t mean it. Please keep messing with her, not me.”

“Wait, maybe Samantha is trying to communicate with us through y/n. You know, considering how she touched her immediately after Chris asked the question.” Colby says as he points a single finger towards you and he looks over at the blonde next to him.

“Samantha, if you would like to communicate with us through y/n instead of the onvoy, could you poke her two times for us?” Sam asks, his question causing your jaw to drop to the floor.

“Guys, this is fucked uP-!” You say, your speech getting cut off by you giggling at the feeling of two pokes being delivered on your side. Your giggles soon turn into a small whine as you cover your face with both your hands and lean against Chris’ arm.

“Did she poke you once or twice?” Sam asks.

“Twice.” You grumble in response. “This is so fucked up why me out of all of us?”

Sam shrugs in response. “Not sure. But at least we know how to communicate with her better.” Colby nods his head at the blonde’s comment as he lands a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Now, Samantha, would you like us to go to the Maximilian room inside The Mezzanine? Remember, one poke no, two pokes yes.”

The moment the question is asked, you feel Chris jerk away from you, a stream of panicked giggles spewing from his lips as he reaches for Nick.

“Thank you, Samantha.” You say aloud, a small smile visible on your lips as you look over at the two boys next to you.

“Did she poke you, Chris?” Colby asks, a small laugh escaping him as he watches the latter hurriedly rub his left side.

“Yeah. Twice.” Chris replies, a frown forming on his lips as sends a quick glare in your direction. At the male’s intense look, you give him an innocent smile and quickly jab your hand into his side. A chuckle escapes you when Chris lets out a choked laugh and stumbles off the bench. “Bro, this isn’t funny!” The male exclaims as he lays on the floor and covers his face with his hands.

“It’s a little funny,” Nick says with a smile as he bends down to reach the younger male on the floor. He lands a quick poke near Chris’ underarm and giggles when the male squeals and rolls away from him. “Dude, you squeal like a little girl.”

“Nick, I will fucking rock your shit. Don’t play with me right now.” Chris says through gritted teeth as he sits up and leans against his arms. Nick raises his hands in defense and takes a seat closer to you as Sam walks up to the male on the floor.

“Come on, I think we should head over to The Mezzanine,” Sam says as he holds his hand out in front of him. Chris looks up at the blonde for a moment, a small smile sneaking onto his lips as he grabs his hand and allows the male to help him to his feet. “y/n you wanna lead the way?”

You slide your tongue over your teeth as you look over at Sam, your stomach churning out of anxiousness before you quickly avert your gaze from him to Nick. When you turn to the male, the redhead gives you an encouraging smile and gets up. The moment he holds his hand out for you, you smile widely and grab it as you follow suit in getting up.

“Yeah. Let's head over there.”

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

“Okay, someone go in first I don’t fuck with the dark.” You say. After a few minutes of searching the hotel, you and the boys managed to find the Maximilian room inside The Mezzanine. The moment you walked up to the doors and saw that the room was pitch black inside, you quickly backed away and walked behind Nick and grabbed both of his arms, basically making him your shield.

“Hell no, I'm not going in first either!” Nick exclaims as he turns around and puts you back in front of him.

“God, y'all are a bunch of pussys,” Chris mumbles as he walks past you and Nick to get to the door. After swiftly opening it, the male enters the large room and begins his short search for the light switch. Upon finding it, the boy turns all the lights on with a single flick of the finger. “Yall coming in or what?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming.” You mumble, sending a look to Nick before you join Chris inside the room. As the rest of the boys trail behind you, you begin to wander deeper inside the room, your eyes staying glued onto the mirrors as you quickly observe them.

“Okay, now why would Samantha bring us here? It’s just a room full of mirrors.” Nick asks, his eyes following your frame as you continue to walk around the room.

“Maybe she left another note?” Colby suggests as he sets his backpack and camera down on the floor against the wall.

“Let’s start looking around the-“

“Matt?” At your sudden exclamation, all the boys quickly whip their heads around in your direction. They silently watch as you run up to the mirror at the end of the room with wide eyes before they all run up after you.

“What happened?” Nick asks as he stops behind you and sets both his hands on your shoulders.

“I saw Matt in the mirror.” You say, stumbling over your words slightly as you point to the mirror in front of you. “I managed to catch a glimpse of his hair before he walked to the left.”

“Are you sure you saw him?” Colby asks, his voice holding a sense of uncertainty as he raises an eyebrow and looks up at the mirror in front of all of you.

“I swear on my life it was Matt! I could recognize his ass from a mile away!” You slip away from the group to walk to the mirror to your left. The mirror that Matt walked towards. You stand in front of the said mirror and your hold on his horse necklace tightens as you desperately look around the glass.

You needed to prove to the guys that you weren’t seeing things. They probably think you're going insane right now and you can’t have that.

The moment you go to walk to the next mirror, you feel a small tug on your sleeve. You quickly jump away with wide eyes and cover the area where you got touched.

“Samantha is that you?” You call out, your statement drawing the attention to the group of boys still standing in front of the other mirror. At the feeling of two small pokes on your knee, you heavily exhale and nod your head softly. “Can I see Matt in the mirrors?” Another two pokes. “See! She said yes!”

“But how is that possible? You can’t see another person in a mirror unless they’re in front of it.” Sam says as he walks up to you, the rest of the boys following close behind him.

“I have no idea how it’s possible but Samantha confirmed that I’m not going crazy.” You don't wait for the blonde to stop in front of you before you walk off to the next mirror. Sam stops in his tracks and looks back at Colby, a look of uncertainty clear on his face as he locks eyes with the male. The latter simply shrugs in response and pats the blonde’s shoulder before he, Nick, and Chris follow you.

“Matt?” You call you again, your eyes desperately searching the mirrors in hopes of seeing your boyfriend again. You let out a frustrated huff when you reach the end of the wall. No Matt here. You quickly turn on your heels to begin your search on the other wall. The moment you walk up to the first mirror, your breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes land on an all too familiar mop of chocolate brown hair. “MATT!”

You run up to the mirror showcasing your boyfriend curled up in a tight ball against a wall with both of his arms covering his head. The closer you got to the mirror, the more you could faintly make out his rapid and labored breaths.

“Matt?” You shout as you delicately set your fingertips on the glass. You watch with wide eyes as Matt quickly looks up and whips his head around, trying to find who called him.

“Hello?” The male calls out, his voice sounding rather muffled as he hurriedly stands up.

“Matt it’s me, y/n! Can you hear me?”

“y/n?..”

At the sound of quickening footsteps approaching you, you quickly turn around to see all the boys coming up to you. The same shocked expression can be seen on all of their faces as they look up at the mirror.

“It’s fucking Matt.” Chris breathes, tears welling up in his eyes as he grabs onto Nick’s bicep.

“How the hell…” Colby mumbles.

“Matt!” Nick shouts as he drags Chris up to where you are standing directly in front of the mirror.

“Nick?” Matt calls, his voice wavering slightly as he clutches his clothed chest.

“Matt, we’re all here. Me, Nick, Chris, Sam, and Colby. Can you see us?” You ask. You all watch as Matt rubs his eyes with his palms and looks around aimlessly.

“No...” Matt replies sadly as a frown overtakes his lips.

“Matt, do you see a mirror anywhere by any chance?” Sam asks as he and Colby walk closer to the mirror.

“Umm…” Matt’s voice trails off as he begins to walk around. The moment he goes to walk outside of the mirror, you all yell at him.

“NO, MATT!” You all exclaim in unison. The male jumps at y’all’s exclamation and quickly walks back to where he was.

“Look in front of you,” Chris instructs, a small giggle escaping him as he watches his brother cross his arms over his chest with a frustrated exhale. Matt complies and looks straight ahead, his eyes widening slightly when his gaze lands on a small mirror with a black frame.

“I see one!” Matt exclaims as he quickly runs up to it. As he does so, he nearly takes up the entire space of the mirror the five of you are looking in, his tall frame looking over you guys as he scans the mirror on his side. You and the boys immediately begin to back up to get a better view of the male, small chuckles escaping a few of you at the sight of Matt mimicking a mine as he sets his hands on the glass.

“Can you see us in-“ You cut yourself off when Matt suddenly yelps and jumps to the side.

“What the fuc-“ The male starts, cutting himself off when he looks to his side and sees something.

“What happened?” You ask, worry washing over you as you see Matt take a few steps back, his eyes wide in fear.

“Samantha’s next to me.”

“WHAT?” Chris exclaims, his jaw-dropping as he quickly whips his head around to face Sam and Colby, the two sharing the same expression as him.

“Wait, we can’t see her,” Nick says, his eyebrows furrowing together as he over at the space that Matt is looking down at. You watch intently as Matt reaches his hand next to him, your eyes widening when you see a yellow sheet of paper appear in his hand moments later.

“That’s the same sheet that was under the camera,” Colby states, earning a small head nod from you and the other boys.

“Thanks,” Matt says slowly. You see the male smile slightly before he looks down at the paper in his hand. “Awh, this is wonderful Samantha thank you.”

“What’d she give you?” The moment the question slips out of Sam’s lips, Matt flips the paper over and holds it against the mirror, allowing the five of you to see it. You can’t help the large smile appearing on your lips when your eyes land on the shark drawn with a blue crayon on the yellow sheet of paper.

“Awh, that’s so cute!” Chris gushes as he jumps a few times.

“Do they like it?” You hear a small voice ask. Collective gasps emit from you and the boys the second you guys hear the voice.

“Yes, they love it,” Matt confirms with a smile. A small, high-pitched giggle rings through your ears before Matt faces the mirror again. “Guys I'm fucking petrified here please bring me back.”

“We’re not finding anything on how to get you back, Matt,” Colby says, a frown appearing on his lips. Matt covers his face with both his hands as a shaky exhale escapes him. You find yourself shaking your head slightly as you force your lips together and dig your hand in your pocket to take your phone out. The moment you unlock the device, you feel a sudden weight on your shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Nick says softly, his minty breath fanning over the right side of your face as he peers down at your phone.

“Trying to find a way on how to bring Matt back.” You reply, your thumbs quickly tapping the screen as you google the ritual Matt did in the elevator. Silence fills the room as you type away on your phone, your eyebrows knitting together as a determined and focused expression spreads across your face.

“Home?” You quickly pick your head up the second Samantha’s voice fills your ears. You watch Matt remove his hands from his face, your expression falling into one of worry at the sight of your boyfriend’s glossy eyes, before he looks down at the space he was looking at previously.

“What was that?” Matt asks softly, a small sniffle escaping him as he quickly wipes away the tear that escapes his eye.

“You wanna go home?” You hear Samantha ask.

“Yes, I really wanna go home,” Matt replies as he furiously nods his head.

“You don’t belong here?”

“No, I don’t. I belong somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“Just somewhere else.”

“With y/n?” You feel your heart skip a beat the moment your name escapes the little girl’s lips.

Matt’s eyes widen and his words get caught in his throat for a moment before he hurriedly replies. “Yes with y/n. With my two brothers and friends too.”

“How did you get here if you don’t belong here?”

“I decided to play a little game that I shouldn’t have played by myself.”

“What game?”

“Just a little game in the elevator.”

“Oh! I know that one!”

Matt’s face falls into one of worry the moment Samantha answers. “You do?..” Matt asks, his voice trailing off as he takes a glance over at the mirror next to him.

“Yes! I like to play it with my friends! We get to go somewhere else if it works! It’s a lot of fun.”

“Wait, do you know how to take me back to where I belong then?”

“You belong in the place where me and my friends go?”

“Yes! Yes, I do.” As you hear the small girl hum softly, you quickly turn around to look back at the boys behind you.��

“She knows about the elevator game.” You say, your voice soft and low as you try to not get Samantha to hear you.

“Let’s hope she knows how to send Matt back,” Chris adds as he begins to nibble on his bottom lip.

“I think so.” You hear Samantha say. You could tell she was rather unsure with her reply due to her voice going up a few octaves at the end of her sentence.

“Could you try to send me back, please?” Matt asks as he looks down at the girl, a pleading expression clear on his face.

“Yeah! Come with me!” Without allowing the male to get another word out, Samantha grabs Matt’s hand and pulls him away and out of the mirror. The second the male vanishes, your face drops and you quickly turn around to face the boys behind you.

“We have to go back to the lobby. Now.” You state, giving all the males a stern look before you exit the Maximilian.

“y/n, wait up!” Nick exclaims as he begins to run after you, the other three boys soon running after the both of you.

Matt’s POV

The constant colors of blue and yellow have been blinding my vision the entire time I’ve gotten to this universe. This world is a replica of the regular world apart from the fact that the majority of this world is in those two colors. While wandering around this universe’s hotel, I did encounter a hallway that was a different color. However, I didn't think about walking down it considering how it was a deep red color. And if my representations of colors were correct, I know that you should always stray away from red since it’s often tied to danger.

Honestly speaking, I didn’t expect this elevator ritual to work so when it did, I had a full-blown freakout. I mean, why would I not? I’m in a different universe and couldn’t contact anyone. Not to mention how the camera I was using to record myself and my horse necklace completely vanished into thin air the second I got ‘transferred’ over here.

Adding to my list of things I didn’t expect, I didn’t expect to be able to see hundreds of spirits walking around. No one seemed to care about how I was there and kept going on their merry way, floating around the hotel grounds as I wandered around like a lost child in a grocery store. I almost gave up on my search trying to figure out where the hell I was and how to get out but when I heard y/n’s voice, I gained a little bit of hope. But the fact that I couldn’t see her and the rest of the guys frustrated me heavily. And they could somehow see me? I have no idea how that makes sense but I didn’t even bother asking because I was sure they wouldn’t have an answer.

My first encounter with Samantha while I was talking with y/n was absolutely terrifying. The little girl that I saw in a painting was standing next to me and communicating with me. She had a bright yellow aura surrounding her, which was a great contrast to the other spirits who held a dull gray one. I’m assuming that she was the only one who had this aura because she’s a kid and still has that child-like innocence to her. But the moment she mentioned that she and her friends played the elevator game for fun, I could not believe my ears.

I mean, she doesn’t know better and probably thinks it’s all fun and games but to me, it’s the complete opposite. That little game of hers got me here in the first place. Now, I'm not blaming her because she's a literal child and has no control over this but the elevator game being fun??? That’s just mind-boggling.

“Wait, where are we going?” I ask, my eyes squinting as Samantha’s aura begins to blind me.

“The elevator, silly!” The little girl replies, a small giggle emitting from her smiley lips as she continues to drag me down the blue and yellow hallways. A small sigh escapes my lips as I continue to let Samantha lead me to the first floor, thankfully with the use of the stairs, and to the lobby where the elevators were. “Get in!” With a small push of a button, the elevator doors open to reveal a purple-filled space with blotches of yellow coating the brims of the elevator walls.

“Good to know there’s no red in here,” I mumble under my breath.

“What did you say?” Samantha quickly turns around on her heels, her dress momentarily twirling around her as she looks up at me with large doe eyes.

“Nothing.” I give the girl a small smile before I enter the elevator. I immediately excuse myself to go to the corner as Samantha enters right after me. As she walked up to the panel of buttons, I could faintly hear her humming a soft tune, her body subconsciously swaying along to the tune. After pushing the button for the first floor, she turns back around and walks up to me.

“Will you come back to visit me?” Samantha asks with a large toothy grin. I feel my heart ache as the small girl looks up at me. As I force my lips into a straight line, I begin to have a small mental battle about whether or not I should be honest with her.

“I’m not sure, Sammy. I really wanna go back home.” I reply softly.

“Can I come with you?” The moment Samantha asks me that question, I feel my heart drop. Panic immediately fills my body as I blink down at the girl in front of me.

“No, I'm sorry. You need to stay here with your friends. They’ll miss you if you don’t come back.”

As Samantha’s smile forms into a pout, the elevator dings faintly before the doors open. I watch as the small girl turns around and goes to push the next floor, her pout not faltering.

“y/n seems nice,” Samantha says softly as she makes her way back to me.

“She is a wonderful girl. I’m very lucky to have her in my life.” I comment as my lips form into another large smile.

“I think she’s scared of me.” My smile falls into a slight frown as I look down at Samantha.

“What makes you think that?”

“Every time I try to get her attention, she always looks so scared. She hasn’t looked as scared the last few times I poked her but I know she’s scared of me.” As Samantha picks her head up to look at me, I feel my heart shatter as I take in her large and glossy doe eyes. “Am I scary?”

“Oh no, not at all Sammy.” The moment I open my arms, Samantha runs closer to me and crashes into me. As I wrap my arms around her and gently pat her head, the small girl nuzzles her face into my stomach.

“Are you sure?” Samantha asks, her voice cracking as tears begin to run down her small face.

“I’m sure, sweetheart. You are not scary at all. In fact, you are quite adorable and so sweet.” I reassure the girl as I begin to run her back comfortingly. As Samantha sniffles softly, the faint ding of the elevator doors opening causes me to lift my head. I let out a small sigh before I bend down and lift the girl into my arms. As I make my way over to the panel of buttons, Samantha wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head against my shoulder.

Carrying this small kid has to be the weirdest thing I’ve ever experienced. She practically weighs nothing and my skin is tingling.

Why am I tingling?..

“Hey, Sam?” I call, my index finger gently poking the said girl’s side. I smile softly when she squirms away with a high-pitched giggle.

“Yes?” Samantha replies as she lifts her head off my shoulder to look over at me.

“What floor do we go to next?”

“Six!”

“Alright, thank you.” Samantha hums softly in response and returns to her spot on my shoulder. After I push the bottom to the sixth floor, I walk back to the corner I was previously at. Comfortable silence fills the elevator as I continue to hold Samantha close against me, her soft breath tickling my neck as she begins to faintly hum the same tune from earlier.

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

Your POV

You find yourself pacing back and forth in front of the elevator as Salt In The Wound by boygenius fills your ears. You can see Sam and Colby talking to one another in your peripheral vision, however you can’t make out their voices due to the headphones on your head.

You had no idea how to wrap your head around what happened 15 minutes ago. You thought you lost Matt for good yet you were able to talk with him through a mirror. The whole thing sorta of reminded you of Bloody Mary but minus all the scary aspects. The fact that Matt was able to physically see and communicate with Samantha while he was in the other universe was pretty shocking to you. You hope that the girl will stay true to her word and help your boyfriend back in this world.

God knows you desperately need him back.

You get snapped out of your pacing and your daze by a small tap on your shoulder. You flinch rather harshly and rip the headphones off your head, your eyes mimicking those of a deer caught in headlights as you stare wide-eyed at the person who tapped you.

“Fucking hell, Chris. You scared the shit out of me.” You say as you clutch your chest.

“My bad.” Chris apologizes with a small smile. “Nick wants you to eat something.” At the male’s statement, you turn your head and immediately make eye contact with Nick who’s holding his hand out, an open pack of fruit snacks on the palm of his hand. At the sight of the snack, your mouth shapes into a small oval before you scurry over to the redhead and take a seat next to him. The moment the male hands you the pack, you shoot him a large toothy grin before you indulge in the snack.

“I can’t be the only one who can’t believe what just happened,” Colby says as he rubs the side of his face with his hand.

“No, I can’t either. That was fucking insane.” Nick agrees as he quickly points over to the male before he fishes another pack of fruit snacks from his pocket.

“It reminded me of Bloody Mary a little bit. You know since they both deal with mirrors.” Sam chimes in as he nibbles on a single club cracker.

“Me too!” You exclaim, a hand coming up to cover your mouth as you continue chewing on your gummies.

“Do you guys really think that Samantha will help Matt? I mean, she is a little kid after all.” Nick asks as he stuffs a few fruit snacks in his mouth.

“I don’t know but I hope she’s able to bring him back.” You reply as you sigh gently and continue chewing.

“Hey guys?” Chris calls. You and the rest of the boys quickly look over at the male who’s looking at the elevator with slightly wide eyes.

“What’s up?” Sam asks as he lifts himself off the wall he’s leaning against to walk over to the youngest triplet.

“Was the elevator always on the fifth floor?” Your head quickly turns to look over at the number atop the elevator. And low and behold was the number five shining brightly above the golden doors.

“Wait, why is it blue?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing as you stare at the bluish glow emitting around the number. “Wasn’t it always white?”

“Yeah, it was…” Colby replies, his voice trailing off as he takes a stand next to you. “That’s weird.”

The moment you go to fix your gaze back to the half-empty pack of gummy snacks in your hand, the sound of Chris gasping rather loudly causes you to pick your head up again.

“What’d I miss?” You ask quickly as you look over at the male.

“The number is going down,” Chris replies as he points up to the number shining brightly atop of elevator doors. Your eyes widen the moment that statement escapes Chris’ lips and you quickly look over at the elevator again.

“What the actual fuck…” You hear Nick mumble next to you. You feel your heart beat loudly in your ears as you watch the number above the elevator slowly go down. The moment the number one appears, your eyes quickly shift over to the elevator doors. You had no idea what was happening but you knew that the elevator arrived at the floor all of you were currently on. It could be that another person is taking the elevator and they’re coming to the lobby but why was it stuck on the fifth floor?

You get pulled out of your thoughts when you hear a small ding coming from the elevator. Subconsciously, you reach over to Nick and grab his hand for mental support as you hear your heartbeat quicken in your ears. After a few moments, the elevator doors slowly begin to open. After it finally opens halfway and you don’t see anyone, your gaze falls back to the pack of fruit gummies in your hand.

Stupid fucking haunted ele-

“MATT!” You hear Nick exclaim, his hold on your hand vanishing as he quickly gets up and runs to the elevator. You quickly pick your head up at the mention of your boyfriend’s name and see all the boys rushing inside the elevator. Your mind seems to lag for a minute as you sit there, frozen, until you finally get back to reality and join everyone in the elevator. You nudge your way through the small crowd of boys to get to the middle and the moment you see an all too familiar set of blue eyes look down at you, tears immediately begin to well in your eyes.

“Matt.” You sob. You immediately crash into your boyfriend’s arms when he walks closer to you and opens his arms out. You bury your face into Matt’s chest and curl your fingers against his clothed back as a steady flow of tears runs down your cheeks. “You’re back.”

��I'm back, I'm right here,” Matt whispers softly as he begins to land soft kisses on the top of your head. The male shuts his eyes tightly and takes in your comforting scent as he begins to tear up himself.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” You remove yourself from Matt’s chest to look up at him. “Never do that shit again. I won’t let you.”

“I won’t, I promise.” Matt brings a hand up to the left side of your cheek to cup your face, this thumb beginning to wipe away your tears as he locks eyes with you. A few beats of silence pass by before the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts y’all’s small moment.

“I apologize for interrupting but I’m feeling quite claustrophobic here,” Nick says as he gestures to the small space around him.

“Yeah, and I think I’d like to leave this trauma-inducing elevator,” Matt adds with a smile, his statement earning faint laughs from all the boys. You watch as all the guys file out of the elevator and walk back into the lobby. Before you grab Matt’s hand to pull him out with you, you turn back to face the male with a small smile. The brunette shifts his gaze down towards you and smiles softly before you decide to grab his face and pull him down to capture his lips for a quick kiss.

“Never thought I’d be able to kiss you again.” You say after you pull back, the same smile visible on your lips.

“Hey! No sucking face in the elevator!” You both hear Chris exclaim. You can’t help but roll your eyes at the boy’s statement before you take Matt’s hand in yours and pull him out of the elevator.

“I think it’s safe to call it a night,” Colby says, a heavy exhale escaping his lips as he picks his backpack up off the floor.

“I thought we still had the Estes Method to do,” Chris says, his eyebrows furrowing as he watches the two ghost hunters collect their equipment.

“Well…” Sam starts as he detaches the light from one of the cameras. “We do but a lot has gone down and I think we should wrap things up here. Right, Matt?”

“Most definitely. I saw and interacted with enough spirits today.” Matt confirms as he rapidly nods his head in agreement.

“We can pick up another day if you guys want. I think we have plenty of footage for the video but we’ll release something at the end explaining what happened with Matt without giving away too much information.” Colby suggests as he swings his bag over his shoulder, one of his hands resting against the strap to hold it in place.

“We can pick back up in two days,” Nick says, taking a glance over at Matt and Chris and waiting to gain small head nods of approval from them before he looks back at Sam and Colby. “We do have another week here.”

“Well, let us know. You guys do not have to continue the investigation if y'all don’t want to. As Colby said, we should have enough footage for the video.” Sam reassures, a small smile appearing on his lips as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“We will,” Matt says with a smile of his own.

“Well, we’ll see you guys later. We still have that dinner reservation in three days so don’t forget!” Colby exclaims as he points a finger at all of you.

“We won’t.” Chris chuckles. “Thanks for inviting us guys!”

“Dude, of course.” You and the triplets begin to share quick hugs with Sam and Colby before the six of you begin to head towards the exit of the hotel. Upon arriving at the front doors, Matt holds the door open for you to allow you to be the first person to step outside. When you do, you take in your first breath of fresh air with a content smile.

“God, how much I missed seeing the outside world.” You sigh as you turn around to face the rest of the boys.

“Oh me too.” Colby agrees with a rapid head nod.

“We’ll see y'all later! You guys make it back to your hotel safely.” Matt says as he walks up to you, his left hand instinctively going to reach out to grab yours

“Yall too! Goodnight guys!” Sam shouts with a large smile as he and Colby wave goodbye to the four of you. You and the triplets bid farewell to the ghost hunters before walking through the parking lot in search of the van.

“I never thought I’d be so happy to see a car in my entire life,” Matt mumbles as he takes his car keys out. As the male unlocks the car, you giggle softly and watch as Nick and Chris hop in the back. Matt looks over at you and lands a quick kiss on your forehead before he brings you to the passenger door. You slip inside the car with a small smile when the male opens it and gently shuts it when you get yourself situated in your seat.

“God I'm fucking exhausted.” Nick breathes as leans against the car window, his eyes shutting in the process.

“Ima knock out. I kid you not.” Chris adds as he pulls his seatbelt over his body.

“Y'all better wake the hell up when we get to the hotel. I’m not carrying y'all up to the room.” Matt says as he slips in the driver's seat, a soft thud coming from the door after he shuts it.

You manage to catch Nick making a talking gesture with his hand in your peripheral vision as you look over at Matt. You watch silently as the male puts his seatbelt on and pulls the gearshift down to drive. Before he begins to drive off, he looks over at you and sends you a large smile before capturing your lips for a quick kiss.

“I’m never leaving your side again.” You say as you shift in your seat to lean your head against the cold window.

“Same here. I’m never letting you out of my sight.” Matt smiles as he takes a glance at all his mirrors. After backing out of his parking spot, your boyfriend reaches over to grab your hand as he finally drives off. As the male gently caresses the back of your hand with his thumb, you find yourself drifting off into a deep slumber.

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

A week later…

“Okay Matt, this is starting to scare me. Do I need to make you an appointment right now?”

“No, I'm fine.”

“Matt you’ve been on the floor for the past five minutes and you look like you’re fucking giving birth. You are clearly not fine.”

“What’s happening?” You ask as you walk inside the warehouse, the door shutting close behind your heels as you forcefully pull it shut.

“Look at your boyfriend,” Nick says as he points down at the said male. You follow the redhead’s finger and worry washes over you when you see Matt curled up on the floor, his eyes screwed shut as a pained expression paints his face. You quickly set the McDonald's bags in your hands down on the nearby sofa before hurrying over to Matt.

“Baby, this is the third time I’ve found you like this this week.” You say as you sit down near the brunette’s head. After Matt doesn’t say anything and simply rests his head in your lap, you let out a small sigh and begin to card your hand through the male’s hair. “Is it still your lower back?”

Matt gently nods his head. “It really fucking hurts. It’s like a bunch of tiny needles pricking my skin. It feels so weird and tingly.” Matt mumbles, a sharp hiss escaping him shortly after he finishes his sentence.

“Matt, again?” You hear Chris ask, his footsteps becoming louder as he walks into the room. You hear the male sigh before you take a glance up at him.

“You guys are acting like I'm in control of this fucking happening. Cut me some slack, holy shit.” Matt grumbles as he digs his face into your thigh.

“Have you texted Sam or Colby?” Chris asks, averting his question to you as he raises a single brow.

“No… why would I?” You question back, your eyebrows knitting in confusion as you send the male a look.

“I have a gut feeling that they have an idea about what’s happening. Just saying.” Chris shrugs as he makes his way to the McDonald's bags on the sofa. You shake your head with a small chuckle when the male digs in one of the bags and takes out his food before he walks off.

“Should I text one of them?” You ask as you look over at Nick who’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“You can if you want. It’ll shut Chris up.” The redhead replies with a shrug. You gently nod your head and pull your phone out of your pocket. “Maybe text Colby. He responds a lot quicker than Sam.” You give Nick a thumbs-up before opening your chat with Colby. You twirl your thumbs around the keyboard for a moment trying to figure out what to say before you finally start typing.

You: hey colby ? I have a question to ask you

Colby: Ask away!

You: so matt has been having these pains in his back and i was wondering if you had an idea as to why he’s been having them

I know it’s random but chris had a hunch that you guys might know soo …

Colby: His back…?

You: yea

Colby: Like his lower? Upper?

You: lower

Colby: Oh shit

You: what … what’s wrong

Colby: I think Matt got an attachment

You: a WHAT ?!?

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· TagList ·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

@freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @patscorner @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @xxloveralways @frankdelreyy @sturnssan @kileybankzz @sturniolho @iammattswife @nomournersonefuneral @maddisqnx @noirpxrker @isa942572 @Irs-jenkinson @wronqness99 @wolfstarfate @bxbynyah7 @marauders3 @cind2224 @aoxash @ladybunny44 @mattslovelygf @flynnriderishot @loveflimsz @mrsmattyb @firexovni @furiouswitchtyphoon

comment to be added to the taglist and click here to know more abt it!

649 notes · View notes

milswrites · 3 months

Text

Hobbies Part 3.

~Azriel X Reader

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: Tiny bit of angst and sadness. Light injury (nothing too bad)

“Why is it whenever you come to my door you’re always dressed so strangely?”

Azriel has had four blissfully peaceful days since the training session with Y/N . He knew she would turn up again at some point, having promised she’d come back and make him try something new.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly looking forward to spending time with Y/N again, he just assumed it was due to the fact that life in the Day Court for him was awfully dull. At least he now knew where the training grounds were and found most of his time was now spent there. Still just himself for company, he had now adopted his regular pre-sabbatical training routine and he had even been on a few late night flights, the need to stretch his wings too much to deny.

Azriel would also be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting on Y/N’s arrival at his flat once more. A shadow constantly waiting by his front door, even when he was out of his flat, to ensure that he would always know when she was waiting outside to meet him.

That’s what lead him to where he was now.

He had been outside, busy at the training ground and focussed on practicing a very difficult drill with his daggers, when the small wisp of one of his shadows came flying into the arena causing him to immediately stop what he was doing.

‘She’s here’ it told him ‘she’s waiting for you’.

At once Azriel sheathed his daggers and took off flying. Speeding towards the direction of his flat. Not wanting Y/N to know he had left a shadow at the door, purely with the intention of alerting him of her presence, Azriel squeezed himself through his open window. A window which definitely had not been built with the intention of a large Illyrian male squeezing through it but Azriel would rather suffer through the embarrassment of having to contort his body and drag himself through, rather than be faced with Y/N’s teasing grin at the fact he had been expecting her and rushed back to greet her.

After managing to crawl through his window, landing on the floor with a bang he prayed she didn’t hear, Azriel rushed to the door hoping Y/N was still there and hadn’t left having waited too long for a response.

Taking in a deep breath to try and return his breathing to normal, Azriel opened the door. He was met yet again with Y/N standing there, grin on your face, in another totally ridiculous outfit.

“What do you mean strange?” Y/N whined dramatically, hand placed over her heart as if his words hurt. Of course this wasn’t the case as the smile on her face had transformed into a smirk, clearly she was expecting him to say that, “Clearly you’ve never seen Day Court riding attire before.”

“Riding?! Like horses?!”

“No Azriel, riding like dragons, yes of course we’re riding horses!”

Azriel was now sure Rhysand had sent Y/N to torture him as punishment for what he did. He had never been on a horse and had absolutely no no intention of ever being on one. The small trace of excitement he had at the prospect of Y/N returning to his flat with a new hobby for him to try had completely left his mind. Azriel now in a mood and frankly he was slightly scared by the prospect of him on a horse.

“What a shame, I actually have plans for today” he shrugged mock-sympathetic look on his face as he attempted to pull his door to before Y/N could convince him otherwise. Something he was certain she would be able to do with little more than a smile.

“Hold on batboy,” Y/N chuckled, hand reaching out to grab the door before he could close it, “I did something you like, you’re going to do something I like. Deals the deal.”

“We didn’t make a deal” Azriel tried to reason, eyes focussed down the hallway of the flat so to avoid looking into her wide, begging ones that were no doubt staring at him.

“Yes we did”

“No we didn’t”

“Yes we- oh for mother’s sake Azriel! I thought you Illyrians were meant to be honest males!”

At this Azriel couldn’t help but release a barking laugh, “Sweetheart I don’t know what you think you know about Illyrians but that is most definitely wrong.”

“Oh well just…please Azriel,” as she said this Y/N softly moved one of her hands to rest on Azriel’s arm that was holding onto the door, “it would mean a lot to me.”

Azriel’s gaze flickered to where her hand rested on him, jaw clenching as his felt his control slip.

“Isn’t there something else you want to do?”

There wasn’t. Azriel had given in and now he found himself face to face with an overly skittish horse, clearly not a fan of his large wings. Y/N was already up on her horse, beaming down at Azriel as she waited patiently for him to mount.

Tentatively, he took a step towards the horse Y/N had selected for him to ride, pulling his wings in hoping that it would be less intimidating, the animal immediately shuffled backwards nervously.

“Y/N I don’t think this is a good idea” Azriel said turning towards the woman who was clearly enjoying his discomfort.

Giggling, she hopped off of her horse before walking over to Azriel and grabbing his hand. Not expecting this, Azriel flinched and yanked his hand away from her grip turning his head away from her, not wanting to see her disgust as she took in the mangled state of his hands.

“What are you doing?” He tried to snap at her but the words came out more unsure and shaky.

“Azriel”, Y/N spoke, drawing his eyes back to her kind face, “it’s ok, look.” With that Y/N took his hand again, her hold light as if giving him the chance to pull away again if he wanted to. Trusting her, Azriel exhaled and watched as she brought his scarred hand to his horses side moving it up and down in a gentle stroke, action calming the anxious mare.

Y/N’s hand lingered over his for a while, caught in the moment before she pulled away. Slow enough that Azriel was reassured it was not because of the marred skin of his hands. The back of his hand still tingling from where she had touched him.

“See?” She spoke softly, eyes slightly glazed. Azriel could have sworn he saw her shake her head a little, bringing herself back from wherever her mind had wandered to, before she took a step back away from his body, creating distance between them.

“Do you need help getting on?”

Neglecting a verbal response, Azriel shook his head, hand still pressed to the side of the horse where she had placed it. He knew the logistics over getting on a horse he had just never tried to before. Awkwardly, he placed his foot in the stirrup before pushing himself up and bringing his other leg over so he was sat on the horse. He made sure to lift his wings and spread them out a little to avoid them touching the horses back in fear their unfamiliar presence may cause him to get bucked off.

Azriel was sure of two things. One, he looked like an absolute idiot on this horse and if Cassian could see him now he would never let Azriel live it down. And two, Y/N was enjoying his struggle and obvious distaste for animals a little too much.

As they plodded along a dirt path outside of the city, Azriel kept a miserable eye on Y/N who wasn’t afraid to let out a loud cackle every time he showed any sign of stiffness or discomfort.

“Hanging in all right bat boy?” She grinned as Azriel released a groan, no one ever told him how much riding a horse hurt your backside.

“Is this supposed to be enjoyable? This can’t actually be your hobby” he mumbled, shifting on the back of his horse to try and find some semblance of comfort for his rear.

“It’s not,” Y/N replied, “never actually been on a horse before either, I had to beg Helion to let me borrow these from his stable.”

Her comment made Azriel pull on the reins tightly until his horse came to a stop, Y/N still moving on ahead, “What do you mean you’ve never been on a horse? The whole reason I’m here is because you said we were going to do something you like!”

“Hm no I don’t recall saying that” Y/N turned her head over her shoulder, flashing Azriel a cheeky grin before facing forward once more. He huffed and did his best to get his horse moving again, this taking a few attempts, riding along until he was side by side with Y/N.

“So why are we doing this instead of dress shopping or gossiping over some tea?”

Y/N gasped playfully, “Dear me Azriel, you can’t truly believe my hobbies would be something as mundane as shopping or talking. I never took you for a gossip though, that’s good to know”

“Well you seem to do too much of that” Huffed Azriel under his breath.

“Besides, consider this payback”

“Payback?”

“For training the other day, can’t think I’m going to let you flip me onto the floor and get away with it”

And with that Y/N pulled off into a gallop down the dirt track, flying away from Azriel, her laugh hanging in the air, his heart fluttering at the sound. Competitive spirit stirring, and a weird need to impress Y/N, Azriel urged his horse to move faster in an attempt to outrace Y/N who already had a very large head start.

This wasn’t Azriel’s smartest idea as it wasn’t long before he felt the reins slip from his grasp and the next thing he knew he was falling off the back of his horse with a startled yelp. His body and wings scraping against the ground as he made contact, rolling to a stop, horse running off into the distance.

Groaning, Azriel just laid there, hands on his face in exasperation. The sound of hooves coming closer forced him to sit up, watching a panicked Y/N canter towards him, his horse in tow. She hopped off her own, worry evident in her face, and ran to Azriel.

“Cauldron are you ok?!!” She dropped to her knees, grabbing his face in the palm of her hands and scanning him over for injuries. Azriel brushed her off of him, embarrassed at the events that had transpired.

“If this is your idea of payback it definitely worked, think I ended up a lot worse off than you did though”

Y/N broke out into laughter, a sound so sweet and inviting that Azriel couldn’t help but join along. The two of them sat on the ground, dirt on their clothes, laughing hysterically until tears filled their eyes and they couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Let’s do something a little less high risk next time yeah?” Azriel says when his breath returns to normal, his smile had gone, it left with the last laugh that had escaped his mouth, but his cheeks still sweetly stung from the memory of it all the same.

“You mean you still want to keep hanging out with me?” Y/N was joking, but Azriel could still see the trace of insecurity in her eyes that she had blown her shot, that Azriel wouldn’t want to see her anymore after forcing him along on this disastrous trip. He wanted to comfort her, take her hand and tell her that he wasn’t going anywhere. But it was Azriel’s rogue emotions that brought him to this court in the first place and he wasn’t going to allow them to mess anything else up. Azriel called back his shadows that were swirling around them both playfully, thriving off of the joy they were previously emitting.

Clearing his throat and moving to his feet he answered, “I haven’t completely dismissed that as an option, can’t say I’ve particularly enjoyed anything we’ve done.”

His words had hurt Y/N, Azriel could tell that much, he noticed how her smile had wavered, how her eyebrows knitted together and the spark he so admired in Y/N’s eyes had dimmed. Guilt crawled into Azriel’s chest but he knew it was probably for the best, he’d entertain her visits and activities but he couldn’t allow himself to grow any closer. He knew he wouldn’t be here forever, sure that any week now Rhysand would return calling him back to his duties at the night court and he would go, leaving Y/N behind.

So Azriel looked down at Y/N who was still sat on the floor before, hurt on her face and he turned back to his horse, grabbing the reins and climbing on, “come on, let’s head back.” Y/N nodded, wordlessly picking herself up from the floor, she brushed the dirt from her clothes and hopped onto her horse.

They rode in silence, Azriel wanting nothing more in this moment than for her to start one of her conversations that he once found so unbearably annoying. Even praying that she would start her melodic humming, a sign that he hadn’t hurt her feelings too much. But Y/N didn’t make a sound.

Sighing to himself over the fact that he had found himself caring so much about this woman he barely knew in the space of such a small time, Azriel broke the silence, wanting to reduce the rift he had so suddenly opened between them. “So what do you actually enjoy doing. If not torturing the male species”He lamely attempted a pathetic excuse for a joke, recalling when the atmosphere around them both was lighter and more playful, wishing for it to return.

Without looking at him, Y/N replied quietly, “I don’t get much free time. But when I do I like to bake or sow, I enjoy making dresses.”

In an attempt to make her smile Azriel spoke, “someone who meant a lot to me used to sow, she must have made hundreds of the most beautiful dresses I’ve ever seen. She made one our high lady wore once, it looked like she had sown together pure starlight.” He glanced to his side where Y/N was riding, a wistful smile creeping onto her lips as if she wished she could create something just as magical.

“I don’t think I’ve ever made anything quite like that”

“I’m sure you’re great. Maybe one day you’ll even make something for me?” It may have been a bit presumptuous of Azriel to say, but at the sight of her usual smile finally on her face he was glad he said it. And Azriel quite liked it, the idea of wearing something made by her.

“A dress?” She teased, the stiff atmosphere around them had blown away with the gentle breeze, a comfortable warmth taking its place.

“I would make a dress work if that’s what you made me. You’ve already put me through enough torture I’m sure I could endure a little bit more.”

Y/N snorted, hand flying to her mouth in an attempt to cover the sound but Azriel caught it and swore to himself he would do everything in his power to make sure he was never the reason for Y/N losing her smile again. As they continued along the path that led back to the city, dirt on their clothes and contentment on their faces. Azriel couldn’t wait for what she had planned next… as long as it didn’t actually involve him having to wear a dress.

Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: I don’t know much about horses so please don’t come for me if I’ve said something wrong <3

Taglist:

@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove

(I’m so sorry I couldn’t get some of them to work, and I’m even more sorry if it’s just my awful spelling)

#acotar #azriel x reader #fanfic #acotar imagine #azriel imagine #sarah j maas

481 notes · View notes

anonymooseforever007 · 11 months

Text

Field Deer. Forest Horse

(Platonic Tommy Shelby x Female reader)

Summary: Arriving home from work Tommy is surprised to see Finn's best friend waiting on his front step with a bundle in her arms asking for his help. This can't be t.... why is it moving?

In which we also see how much of a little horse girl Thomas Shelby really is....

A/N: Hi Y'all! No Trigger warnings for this one aside from mentions of assumed pregnancy (but no actual). Also despite what Tommy first thinks, this story is entirely platonic in both the readers relationship with Finn and Tommy, and there are not actually human babies. I just have an idea that anytime Tommy is approached with a squirming bundle he thinks it's gonna be related to him somehow. This was really fun to write! Enjoy❤️

WC-2.7k

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy Shelby had just arrived back home when he heard someone calling his name. Looking to his front steps, he saw his youngest brother's best friend hurrying towards him with a bundle in her arms.

"Tommy! You're home, great! I need you to help me."

Now Tommy hadn't seen Y/N in a few months truthfully, he was usually busy with work and she lived in London. Most weekends Finn would end up going down to her place to cause whatever trouble they could, away from Polly's watchful eye. So really, her and Tommy's paths rarely crossed. But Tommy was still fond of the girl and the slight stress in her voice, didn't stop his growing concern....

Nor did the suspiciously wrapped object in her arms ease his fears and....Oh great, it was moving.... Pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, Tommy tried to recalled what Y/N looked like the last time he'd seen her, hoping the bundle wasn't what he thought it was.... Please tell him Finn hadn't been that stupid...

"Tommy, it is really important! About a baby. Finn won't help either and I don't know what else to do!"

Fuck....

Pinching the bridge of his nose harder, Tommy closed his eyes again and tried to control his breathing. Yes, he was extremely pissed that Finn not only gone off and gotten his best friend pregnant, but also hidden the secret from his family for months. Now he'd obviously not been able to face the consequences and left the poor girl and babe all by her lonesome. Fucking really Finn? Tommy thought the family had raised him better than that. But despite Tommy's annoyance, he knew it wasn't time to take it out on the girl before him. If she really did just have a baby, she need more than just his help. He'd have to call a family meeting and once they all met the kid, they could take turns tanning Finn's ass. Sure, it wasn't too much different from what Tommy and John and Ada themselves had done. Come to think of it, not a single firstborn of the Shelby siblings had been "expected" so to speak. But at least they'd taken responsibility for their late night actions. And Tommy would be damned if his little brother didn't have to do the same.

Talking one last deep breath, Tommy opened his eyes and looked down at the girl now standing a few feet in front of him. He could see her clothes were dirty from something and she had some small scratches on her left forearm. But still he was more concerned about the squirming mass in her arms. Running a hand though his hair, Tommy tried to think of the best way to console the girl. Putting a hand on her shoulder, Tommy began his speech about how she really was family now.

"It's gonna be alright Y/N. I know things may see tough right now, but I promise we'll be here to help you. Finn may not have the balls to help with this baby, bu..."

Stepping back, Y/N tilted her head, confused at Tommy's words. It was at that moment another noise came from the small blanket and for the first time Tommy saw light brown hair poking out from the blanket....But something seemed off about it.

"Tommy what are you talking about? Finn's not lacking the balls for anything, he's just still stuck at the office doing work. Polly said she'd skin him if he didn't get those papers done today. Besides he's not the one I need to talk to about the baby.... You are."

For a second, Tommy's heart stopped as an absolutely terrifying idea entered his mind.

It wasn't Tommy baby was it?

In the back of his mind, Tommy knew it wasn't true. But it also wouldn't be the first time, someone gave him the "surprise you're a dad" talk. She wasn't really tying to tell him it was his kid... was she? He didn't even remember that last time he saw Y/N, let alone ever..... She was his brother's best friend. Tommy wouldn't do that, no matter how drunk or high he'd gotten. He wasn't Freddie fucking Thorne for fucks sake...rest his soul. Shaking his head, Tommy's brow furrowed. No, that was completely impossible, there had to be some other explanation.

"Y/N, I don't know what you're going on about but that's not my kid."

"....Of course it's not your kid?" Y/N's eyes widened at she realised what Tommy was thinking. Her own nose scrunched at the idea of it all and she chucked at Tommy's concerned face. "Oh Tommy do you think it's a real baby," she asked and moving forwards again, Y/N pulled back the blanket showing Tommy the truth. "Well it is a baby, but it's not a human baby. Look."

A baby deer.

That's what it was. A tiny little thing, that couldn't have been more than a week old. It probably weighted less than Tommy's briefcase. Stepping closer, he could also see it was injured. A few deeper scratches marred its back and Tommy could make out a few deeper wounds that reminded him of the imprint barbed wire left. Not to mention the poor thing was shaking harder than Tommy himself after a nightmare. Gently reaching out, Tommy lightly touched an uninjured part of the fawn's back, frowning when it flinched. Forgetting his previous concerns, Tommy quietly shushed the trembling animal and held his hand out for the fawn to smell. He was more than happy to ignore the problems of people, but Tommy always did have a soft spot for animals.

"What happened to it?"

Pursing her lips, Y/N remembered the scene she'd dragged the small thing from only an hour before.

"I found her on the side of the road on my way back to London. Pulled off to have a snack and found her crying all wrapped up in this old wire fence. And that wasn't even the worst of it Tom," Y/N revealed, "I looked around for her mum, and she was dead just a little ways down. I think someone hit her while crossing the road and the poor baby got stuck in the wire in her panic. I'm telling ya, Tommy, that doe has been there for a few days, I can't even imagine how hurt the baby must be!"

Y/N sighed, holding the baby deer a bit closer, as if she could cuddle away all its trama. Not even a week old, and it had already seen so much. Y/N had spent the next hour with her pocket knife trying to cut the poor thing out of its wire prison. She'd even gotten a few scrapes of her own when the fawn was panicking too much and wouldn't hold still, throwing itself as hard as it could to get away from its rescuer. Eventually though, the deer seems to accept its fate, though constantly shaking, as Y/N cut the final ties. Not that that was even the end of everything. So badly hurt, the fawn could barely even stand and Y/N knew if she left the baby by the road it would die. And she couldn't bare the thought of that. Tommy listened quietly as she explained her tale, still gently petting the fawn's head with two fingers.

"And so I brought her here. I was gonna go to Curly at first, seeing as I think he'd know the most. But then Arthur said Curly had gone down with John to pick drop the new horse off at May Carlton's place. So I decided to come here next. Based on what Finn said you'd probably be the next best help! You know more about them than I do!"

Tilting his head, Tommy raised an eyebrow at Y/N's words. Truthfully, Esme or Polly would have been the best to go to for a hurt animal. And he loved Curly too, but Tommy couldn't fathom why Y/N would go to him for help. Curly actually hated deers, they were one of he few animals he'd never enjoyed.... at least outside of Polly's stew. He may have been nicer to the baby deer, but Tommy knew even then, he'd probably be reluctant. And then Tommy himself was also a bit of a wild card when it came to the animal. Sure he'd hunted them before with his brothers, but Tommy never really looked much into the animals deeper that. Nevertheless, he accepted Y/N's plea, carefully taking the small creature from her arms, already making a mental list of supplies he'd need.

"Y/N? I'm still gonna help you with it, but I can't promise it'll do much yeah? I'm don't know much about deers and I'm definitely not any animal doctor. I guess we can try, but I'm not making any fucking promises."

Beaming at him, Y/N clapped her hands twice, pleased at his cooperation.

"I knew you could do it! After all, horses aren't much more than field deer!"

Tommy froze in his steps, tensing up like he'd been shot. Did she really just.... Tommy turned around so fast, Y/N was scared the fawn would go flying from his arms.

"Fucking what?"

Nervously Y/N laughed. Even holding an adorable baby deer as gently as he did his son, Thomas Shelby's narrowed eyes were slightly intimidating.

"You know, horses....They're basically like deer, but bigger... and live in fields.... So they're Field Deer."

Mouth opened, Tommy looked down at the small deer in his arms with distaste, almost as if he was reconsidering his entire offer to help.

For lack of a better word, Thomas Shelby was offended. Possibly more so than he'd ever been in his life.

"Deer aren't anything like horses."

"Yeah they are."

"How."

"...They both have hooves and fur and noses..." Y/N started off, hesitating. Truth be told, she knew nothing about either animal, that's why she wanted Tommy's help. "They both eat a lot of leaves and flowers and grass, and th..."

"Horses don't just eat leaves or flowers or grass. They mainly eat hay." Tommy interrupted.

"Hay is a type of grass, wise ass," Y/N shot back. "Besides you can't deny they look alike and act alike! Wave an apple slice in their face and they're practically the same species!"

Tommy scoffed.

"Horses are big and majestic and strong, and if trained right aren't afraid of anything. They're smart and loyal and good, and if you find the right one it'll help you for years," Tommy defend, thinking of all the horses he'd had before. "You won't ever find an animal as good as a horse mark my fucking words. While deer.... deer freeze in their steps the second they see danger. They're weak. You saw that today didn't ya?"

Gasping at his audacity, Y/N glared right back at him, reaching out to cover the poor fawn's ears, as if protecting her from Tommy's uncalled for blow.

"Thomas Shelby, how dare you! Now maybe deer aren't as big or powerful as horses, but that's taking it too far! Speak the differences all you want, but not that one. The poor thing's still shaking and you have the nerve to be so cruel! Apologise right now!"

Tommy didn't even have to look down to feel the constant shaking in his arms....alright maybe that was a low blow. But he still wasn't going to apologise to the deer. It's not like it would even understand him.

"I'm not doing that."

"Yes you are." Arms crossed, Y/N waited patiently for Tommy to give in. She didn't even have to press him. For as cruel as Tommy could be to people, he did quite like animals. Only around him a few times, Y/N had already witnessed the gentle way he'd spoken to his horses or Cyril. The fact he'd even taken Cyril in when Alfie "died" was enough for her to know Tommy couldn't turn away an animal in need, even if he "hated" the man it came from. She was sure the small bit of conscious he so often locked away would be free soon. If only for a few minutes. And right she was, only a few seconds later, the small animal let out a pained whine and Tommy's eyes shot down to it. Carefully petting its head again, with blue eyes meeting chocolate brown, he hesitated a bit before grumbling.

"Alright, alright, shouldn't have said that to ya should I? Wasn't very nice of me was it? I said I'd help ya and I will. You're gonna be alright."

Nuzzling into his touch, finally, the deer stopped shaking. Tommy smirked softly at his achievement and Y/N smirked gently at Tommy, knowing she'd won the argument. She didn't understand why Tommy couldn't recognise the similarities and was so against the titles.

"See, she even falls right into the palm of your hand, after a few nice words Tom. Just like all the horses do. Proving my point further. You may not think it, but you can't deny the truth forever! Field. Deer."

Sighing, Tommy just rolled his eyes, recognising how the woman got along so well with his family. When it came down to it, she could be just as stubborn as the rest of them. However, unlike the rest of his siblings, Tommy didn't have any blackmail he could use to make Y/N back down.

"Alright maybe they are similar yeah? But you can't just call a horse a fucking Field Deer. That's just disrespectful to them. Horses are the stronger ones, and more useful." He turned, finally walking into his house, heading for his office where he knew bandages were kept. Y/N playfully rolled her eyes and headed after him.

"Alright Tommy, I'll keep that in mind."

Tommy nodded his head, still absentmindedly rubbing the fawn's head. Its breathing had gotten deeper now, not from injury, but from the fact that Tommy's gently pets had lulled it to sleep.

"Good. Horses aren't Field Deer... If anything deer are .... Forest Horses."

It was Y/N's turn to freeze before she belted out cackling, finally realising where Tommy's initial defensiveness came from.

"FOREST HORSES! Fucking Hell! You weren't mad I said deer were like horses at all were ya! You just got pissy because I related the horse to the deer, instead of the deer to the horse!"

She laughed again, while Tommy just stood by silently. Even is she was right he'd never admit it. No, the Thomas Shelby would never confess he got into an argument over a childish nickname for horses. Especially if it was an argument he "lost" in the end.

"Alright, alright. You've had your fun. Now go run to the kitchen and grab me a bowl of water yeah? And if you find Francis tell her to take one of Charlie's old baby bottles and fill it with some warm milk." Tommy cut in, nudging you towards the hall with his left foot as his hands were still full of the sleeping baby deer. "And after I'm done looking at this one, you're gonna let me look at the scratches on your arms too....Don't wrinkle your nose at me, it won't hurt that much."

Saluting the older man mockingly, Y/N nodded twice before tapping the sleeping deer on the nose.

"Any other orders for the nurse, doctor? Should I bring some hay for the little filly or a blanket that's been heated over the mantle?"

Scoffing lightly, Tommy just shook his head.

"No hay for the baby yet nurse, but get to it quick, yeah. Suppose to have a family meeting in a few minutes and I don't need them poking fun of me for going soft, now do I?"

"He says as he cuddles the injured baby deer," Y/N mumbled to herself, already halfway out of the room. "Not that I can blame him though, she is pretty cute."

Watching Y/N walk turn down the corner, Tommy took it upon himself to finally step into his office. The only one inside was Cyril, whose head immediately shot up at the new smell. Lumbering over to the couch Tommy had settled down on, the large mastiff gently sniffed the small creature. After a few moments, Cyril looked at Tommy and then back at the deer. Then he sat down and rested his head on the edge of the couch, staring curiously at the fast asleep fawn. Reaching over to pet the dog's head, Tommy let out a small laugh.

"You like her, don't you boy? That's alright I think I do too. Maybe we can keep her around for a bit eh? What do you say Cyril? Want a new friend?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#Tommy Shelby x reader #tommy Shelby imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #Thomas Shelby x reader

533 notes · View notes

klausinamarink · 4 months

Text

Happy Accidents Allowed

Prompt: “Starry Night” (discord drabble from STWG and a happy birthday to @thefreakandthehair 🥳💜)

“That’s a perfect wall right there.” Eddie emphasizes his point by smacking a hand against the still-white, (thankfully) now dried paint. “Don’t ya agree, big boy?”

Steve puts his hands on his hips, letting himself survey every inch of the wall of their living room. It’s actually a small area, right next to the sliding door of the balcony, barely wide enough to fit his own frame even with his arms outstretched. It’s also the only wall in their new apartment left unpainted because Eddie had wanted it blank for a mural he wanted to do. Hence the many paint bottles and palettes around their feet.

Finally, Steve smacked his lips and said, “Better than a horse, I’ll say.”

It came out less clever than it did in his brain, but Eddie laughed hysterically anyways.

“Alright, I’m gonna start so do not distract me!” Eddie pointed at him with one of the paintbrushes.

“Even if it’s for meals?” Steve asked, the corners of his lips quirking upwards.

Eddie paused. “Unless it’s for meals.”

“Even if you need a shower?”

“Unless I have to shower.”

“Even if-”

Steve cackled as he leapt away from Eddie’s attempt to smack his leg. “Even if I have to sleep, yes!”

He left Eddie alone then. Steve spent a while in their bedroom to finish unpacking the last couple boxes, before he peeked back in the living room.

Some of the wall was painted in a thick dark blue. Eddie was still hunched over on his spot, but Steve could see that his boyfriend already had some other colours done. They were too dark and blob-y looking for Steve to figure out what they were. But it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“So what exactly are you painting?” Steve tiptoed over, careful not to disturb Eddie.

Eddie hummed, not looking up from where he’s still painting. “Been wanting to try my version of Starry Night.”

“Starry Night?”

“Yeah, you know. That one Van Gogh painting.”

“Oh, I know that.”

They both fell into a comfortable silence. Steve kept watching Eddie until he finally looked up. “You wanna try?”

Steve blinked, “Huh?”

Eddie grinned, already handing him a paintbrush. “You can try painting too. It would be sort of cool if we did this together, actually. Like, I paint on this side, you paint on that side, we meet in the middle. Might be sweet.”

”Or hideous.” Steve muttered, taking the offered brush. Eddie laughed before turning back to his progress.

Steve stared at the remaining white space. He looked down at his brush. It’s one of the small ones that could do thinner strokes for the details. Probably a good choice Eddie gave him because Steve knew absolutely nothing about painting. Even in art classes as he had followed his teacher’s instructions, his projects always looked like a first grader’s attempt. Hell, he was pretty sure first grade was the last time he genuinely wanted to do painting on his own.

He took a deep breath. He can do this. He knows what Starry Night looks like, so all he has to do is paint what he remembers, right?

Steve sits down, dipping the brush in one of the blue paints. A lighter color. Because Starry Night had lots of cool brushstrokes and it makes sense to start from light to dark. Right?

Steve carefully taps the brush experimentally on the wall. As expected, the light blue paint appears as a new dot on the white wall, inches away from Eddie’s. But an inexplicable wave of dread comes over Steve. The longer he stares at the spot, the more it overwhelms him.

Because he doesn’t know what to do next.

Does he have to apply the same paint? Does he just have to bring the brush back and move it up and down? Did he have to add a new one? If he tried a different brush- no, it would just be the same, just more larger. Should he ask Eddie? No, it’ll just distract him anyways. Maybe if Steve left now- no, he would be a fucking asshole-

“I ruined it.” Steve said, blankly staring at the pathetic dot.

“What?” Eddie blinked at him. His eyes darted to the horrible blue spot and he made a small laugh. “Sweetheart, you just started-”

“I ruined it.” Steve repeated. Pressure started burning right behind his eyes. He immediately pinched the bridge of his nose, careful with the paintbrush he’s still holding. Fucking pathetic. “This was a mistake.”

“Wait, wait, Steve.” Eddie’s hands were on his wrists, gently bringing them down to their laps. Steve looked away, biting hard into his bottom lip. If he had to look at his boyfriend, Steve was certain he would just start sobbing and never stop.

“Steve.” Eddie said softly. His hand carefully cupped Steve’s face. Lingering, not turning his head to face Eddie. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“Like I said,” Steve clenched his jaw as he spoke, trying to stop the waterworks from going out, “I ruined it.”

There was a tiny rustle of clothes as Eddie moved forwards. His arms wrapped around Steve, easily pulling their bodies together. Steve couldn’t hold it anymore. He buried his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder, inhaling the smell of paint already ingrained in the fabric of his flannel. It soaked up his tears easily.

After Steve felt like he could breathe without feeling choked up, Eddie spoke again, “It’s your first time painting, right?”

Steve nodded. He turned his head so he could press his face against Eddie’s neck.

“I’m not expecting you to be a master painter.” Eddie paused, “Though it would be pretty cool if my boyfriend was secretly Van Gogh.” He cackled aloud when Steve good-heartedly pinched his arm in response. When he quieted down, Eddie leaned back so he was staring into Steve’s eyes. His thumb rubbed underneath them to wipe away any stray tears.

He continued, “It’s okay to fail, Steve. It’s okay to make mistakes, especially when you’re just starting something new. Believe me, I get the struggle. Sometimes, I come up with super cool ideas but I just tear my hair out when I can’t draw it exactly how I pictured it.”

“Really?” Steve asked quietly, even though he already witnessed plenty of those moments Eddie had just described, which was mostly amusing. But nothing about this situation feels funny to Steve. Surely, Eddie’s internally laughing at him right now.

But Eddie was only smiling at him, all so fondly, “Really. And there’s a lesson about it. If you think you ruined something, call it a happy accident.”

“Happy accidents?” Steve repeated it under his breath. Eddie’s smile grew wider as he playfully tapped his nose.

“Yep, no calling it a mistake or saying you ruined art. It’s just happy accidents.”

When they both leaned in to kiss, Steve thought about the circumstances that had brought them both here in this apartment, despite the horrors that had caused it. Thought about how if he hadn’t ran back to the Byers house that night, Steve’s life would’ve been more blissful but none the wiser. He wouldn’t have met the kids and known Eddie more this intimately.

Yeah, it sure was a happy accident. And that, Steve wouldn’t regret those spots of paint on his own mural of his life.

#klaus writes #steddie #stranger things

102 notes · View notes

williaml0ver · 2 months

Note

FIRST KISSES WITH GANJI MAYBE?!?!?

☆ <3 Kisses with Ganji Gupta ☆ <3

[🖇️] word count: 1089

[🖇️] warnings: g/n reader, angst to comfort, fluff, touch starved Ganji, kith kith

[🖇️] author's note: i can't believe i posted two fics in a span of two days hello?? Anyways thank you so much for this lovely request pookie, i'm sorry for this being shorter than my usual lenght for posts :( i would steal a horse for you if you told me to 🫂 GANJI NATION RISE. I love this boy so much omg....

☆ ☆ ☆

-Ganji particularly strikes me as the type of a lover who may struggle with showing affection through physical touch at first. But when he becomes used to it, realizes he likes it? He'd be obsessed!

-At first, his way of proving his love is simply being there for you. Listening to your thoughts, confessions and rants, making sure you're aware your opinion matters to him. You matter to him.

-He'd overall prefer for his love to know that they have a trustworthy, capable of protecting man you could always lean on when in need.

-For Ganji, this looks like a perfect stance to take. You will feel safe, loved and comforted, yes?

-This in fact, does can lead to a missunderstanding, especially if you're really fond of physical touch in your relationship. But what you cannot do is blame Ganji. He was a boy raised in solitude, someone who was taken advantage of and mistreated. Love is still a fairly foreign thing for him.

-Something shifts deep inside the batter when you two become a thing, he just doesn't know what exactly yet. He's new to this... feeling, he isn't sure what is he supposed to provide for you.

-Even if you don't resemble a person who finds happiness in taking the lead, you should direct him a little. Just be honest and voice your needs. He may have troubles with opening up to you - he doesn't want you to worry, but he will open up if you reassure him that you want to be a safe space for your boyfriend.

-Don't get it wrong, if you hugged him in his or your room, he would act awkward but wouldn't push you away.

-The direct affection is rather one sided at the start. Ganji accepts, but does not initiate at all.

-But near someone? He wouldn't push you away either, but he'd show clear signs of discomfort. He's not ready for public displays of affection just yet. He wants to be treated seriously by other survivors, in fact, he does enjoy how some avoid him and fear him.

-You have to get to know him before.

-When it comes to touching, start slowly. Don't demand things too fast. Let Ganji adaptate in slow, little steps. He'd feel mostly overwhelmed if you decide to let out all your love inside you all at once.

-All those small things, like you insisting on gentle hand holding, hair petting, make Ganji's senses wake up from deep slumber. He wants to protect you, but he also begins to want to experience the feeling of safeness.

-He suddenly starts waiting for your small touches. After matches, he mindlessly comes to you and desires to be held, comforted. He doesn't know why. It just feels right, feels good.

-It does make him feel better and more open to closeness.

-One thing about Ganji, he struggles with expressing his cravings. He feels like he doesn't deserve anything. It really is a miracle you even wanted to treat such a monster as a lover.

-Step by step, you start being more intimate with him. He'd let you lay on him, grounding him when sleeping today.

-He wishes for more and more from you, but Ganji is afraid of it. What if you'll be dissapointed and think he's weak? The thought of you leaving terrifies his poor heart.

-At some point, to your surprise, he just breaks down. He's crying, hardly breathing and whimpering. All he ever wanted was to be loved.

-Please, wipe his tears away, comfort him, touch him. Ganji needs it more than ever.

-Not putting much thought into it, you kiss the batter on his lips. It activates something in both of you. Yes, you've exchanged touches before, but this one feels so deeply personal. It makes your relationship, Ganji feel... complete.

-Everything he ever defended, protected, fought for... that one moment made the pain worth it all.

-That one kiss resulted in a big explosion of Ganji's wild passion towards your person. He is now allowed to shower you with something he longed to do ever since you met, but had to bottle it up.

-Ganji takes kisses very seriously. He'd feel honoured if his lover wanted to do it.

-No one ever made him feel so flustered.

-He was so passionate. You were the one to kiss him, but he quickly took control of the kiss. He's never done that before, but you felt otherwise. You've stayed this way for the next hour.

-You felt like you gave him the kiss of life. His eyes brightened up, his smile is wide, you felt like it's all Ganji's world and you're just living in it.

-Each kiss from him feels like it's his last meal on earth ever.

-He felt like a completely new person that day. You two were already very close, but his sudden burst of affection made your love go over to the roof. No, the stars above.

-Not long after, he starts treating you back with light caresses on your soft skin. Ganji doesn't even hide the fact that he is touch starved.

-He discovers he prefers showing you his devotion through touch, rather than doing it verbally.

-Make sure you kiss him goodnight and also for good luck in his matches <3

-You discovered it's easier to convince him with giving small kisses.

"Look, love, I could take you somewhere else, i'm not really a fan of cinema, you know?"

*kith kith noises*

"Oh... I... I mean, of course, I'd love to go."

-He's got a poker face for sure. It's sometimes hard for you to read him, imagine how difficult it has to be to other survivors...

-You noticed his face is actually very responsive during kissing time.

-You keep teasing him about blushing. He denies it all the time.

-You woke up from a nap? A kiss on your forehead. He heroically carried the entire match? Proud kisses on his mouth. Mind you, he's obssesed.

-He'd appreciate every kiss you offer. His personal favourite place to kiss you is on your cheeks, meanwhile you love to pamper his cleavage with kisses.

-Make sure to kiss his scars!!! Ganji is exceptionally insecure about them. Feeling your mouth on those little atrocities makes him feel loved for who he is, not for the scary persona he tries to become near people.

-Speaking of people, he surprisingly becomes very possesive. He doesn't mind PDA, in fact, he wants everyone to know that you're taken by the batter - Ganji Gupta.

☆ ☆ ☆

Take a look at this shrek plushie i've digged up in a thrift store lately... okay it's 2am goodnight guys

#idv #idv x reader #identity v #idv hcs #ganji gupta x you #ganji gupta headcanons #ganji gupta x reader #ganji gupta #idv ganji #idv ganji gupta #idv headcanons

98 notes · View notes

mysticalsoot · 8 months

Text

you changed, it's good

A/N; soooo ive kinda been in a writing slump so take this fic thats been building dust in my docs- also tysm for 300!! hopefully ill come up w smth for it lol- I have no clue how to process that information omf

summary; months after wilbur's revival and his reunion with you and the daughter you share (that he didn't know about), you let out pent emotions and have a heartfelt talk with wilbur

tw// swearing, not lore accurate, im a wilbur apologist shush, children, suicidal mentions maybe? lmk if i missed anything

words; 1.8k

pairings; c!wilbur x gn!reader (they're parents), revivedbur x gn!reader

pronouns; none!

masterlist

—★—

The time since Wilbur’s death and revival may not have been that long, but for you, it felt like ages--you had a child now, his, yes but you’ve begun another life. A life with a little girl, a life without him. But now, he was here and he was trying. You appreciated it but god did you fear it too. The memories taunted you, the hurt and the aching that still lingered, haunted you. He haunted you.

Your head is rested upon Wilbur's chest, and the thumping of his heart echoes in your mind. His left arm wraps around your shoulder and your own arms around his middle. Your daughter, Willow lays against his other side, curled into a ball, and his other arm held tightly around her in comforting warmth. This moment is what you imagined life to be all those years, before everything…happened.

You seemed to always subconsciously wish for moments like these, at least, in the past few years. One’s where Willa has a parent other than yourself, someone else to hold her, and someone to hold you too. Domestic bliss, calm and serene. No wars or bombs, no screaming, and yelling. Simply the sound of your partner's heart and the sight of him holding your child. It's a reassurance of sorts, a silent "everything will be okay, even if it wasn't before".

Things used to be so not okay that having this calmness is nice. Having his arms around you again is lovely, being able to kiss him and hold him, to watch him help raise your daughter, to play with her and hold her. Tickle her and carry her on his shoulders, hold her hand with his, and walk with her on the prime path. To teach her how to ride a horse, after bringing one home for her, and helping her name him.

"Wilbur?" You whisper to him, moving your head back, your gaze locked upwards on him. He looks down at you, a soft smile written on his features, and he tilts his head to the side.

"Yes, my love?" he leans down, leaving a soft kiss to your lips and you smile through it, the warmth in your stomach swelling the same way it did when you both were younger. You take a moment to admire him, the way his curls fall in his face, how his glasses are always crooked and now are no different, and how the small freckles he adorns sprinkle his cheeks. Everything about him is beautiful, and so it brings you back to what you wanted to say. What you need to say, what is right to say.

"What happened? After lmanburg? You were so…" Your mind goes blank for a word to properly describe it, without hurting him. Cruel, evil, manipulative, the list goes on. It's odd to you, how someone could become so horrible and then return to a better version of their old self in a matter of years. "Horrible, then. To everyone, to yourself."

His face falls, and so does your heart, falling to the deep pits of your stomach. You can feel the life drain from your face and it hurts. You feel an immense dread, and wonder if you hadn’t mentioned it, how you would feel. It's a difficult subject for him but at this point, you think it had to be brought up. How can one accept this happy domestic life without knowing the full truth?

"I got lost, I think. Lost in the greed I suppose." He pauses, dips his head down to press his forehead against yours. His eyes close and he takes a breath, his arm letting go of Willa and placing his hand on your cheek, fingers gently brushing the skin and his eyes hold a warm sadness to them, "I wanted the joy still, the happiness for our future. But it got pushed back. I was blinded. There's a lot I don't remember. I mean I remember pieces here and there. Bribes from dream, desperate attempts to make things work for everyone and everything."

"And then what? You realized hurting us was better?" You’re hostile now, something switching or rather, breaking in your heart. You know you shouldn't react this way, get defensive--but a piece of you is still painfully angry and hateful, filled to the brim with spite and it’s accidentally let through the cracks. You back up a moment, his touch leaving you, hand falling to his side, head still dipped down.

"I realized I couldn't make it perfect for everyone, there were sacrifices I had to make." He takes another deep breath, wraps his arms around Willow again, she doesn't move. "And I made the wrong ones, I know that. I see that." Wil looks down at the lump that his daughter forms, a little ball of a girl. She moves to grab onto his arm in her sleep and she hums, a soft smile adorns his lips.

You feel you should be satisfied with his answers, and half of you is, but you still wonder; "Why? Why did you do it?"

His gaze lets its grip off of Willow, walks up and he looks to you, pupils big and somber, bloodshot and wet. "To not hurt anyone anymore. It was for the best."

You want to scream at him now, tell him how much of an idiot he is. Screams that are bloodcurdling, one’s that most definitely would wake up Willa and anyone surrounding the area. That no, killing yourself in fact does not stop the hurt, it only fuels it, like a spark to dead grass. He made Phil kill him, he made you watch as he destroyed his livelihood, your shared livelihood, watch as he's stabbed to death by his own goddamn father. It was never ending with him, it was always something new, something bigger, more painful than before. You want to storm away, back off, and not let him near you for a split second, it's all an overreaction, you tell yourself but you simply can't help it.

You stare at him for a moment, your expression blank and emotionless. Willow turns onto her back, eyes open slightly and her arms reach up to Wil. "Hey, daddy." She mumbles out, a smile of her own sculpted onto her features. Wil smiles back.

"Hello, my love. Are you ready for bed?" He asks, lifting her up by her sides and gently sitting her on his lap. She nods sluggishly, and she rests herself against him, chest to chest, head on shoulder, and tiny arms wrapped around his neck. "Let's get you into bed then, sweetie."

You just watch, your eyes follow him as he walks out of the living room, into the kitchen, and down the stairs. You sit there, alone now. Thoughts cycle through your mind. All the things you had wished for, every thought that graced your consciousness, every question unanswered for years. You missed him, you really truly did. But you aren’t sure who you missed more, and is the one you missed, the one you lie with at night? The one that wraps his arms around you in the morning, leaves a sloppy kiss on your cheek, and brushes the hair out of your face. The man that waits there, holding you, until Willow comes rushing in the room to ‘wake’ you both up. The same man that shushes you lovingly and says "Pretend you're asleep, love," the moment he hears her bedroom door open, so she can have the satisfaction of waking you both.

You now rest your head on the back of the couch, your gaze focused on the window on the opposite side of the room. Snow gently falls past it, frost taken over the glass. The fire crackles and warms you like a hug.

What feels like moments later, even warmer arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to the body they're attached to. "Wil?" You call out, your voice coming out gravelly, and you realize you must've fallen asleep.

"Hey.." It comes out weak, the word feels broken and sounds broken. "I'm sorry, for all the shitty things I've done. I know my reasoning isn't nor has it ever been valid. But I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere, and I don't have any plans of mass terrorism." His voice becomes clearer, breaks up less and he dips his head down again, pressing his cheek against yours. You nearly open your eyes, but keep them closed, and revel in the feeling of him more.

"I know." You pause, and let your own arms wrap around him, but instead of his middle like he has you held--you wrap your arms around his neck, your hands weaving into his mop of curls. "I think part of me still hurts, it's stupid I guess." You rest your head on his shoulder, and he pulls you closer, your legs now wrapped around him too.

"It's not, I hurt you. I take accountability for that and I hate that I even did it in the first place." His voice cracks again, and you know he means it. You pull back, your hands pressed against his cheeks and he looks up at you.

You hesitate, mulling over the words falling off his lips, his expression knotted in anxiety. Your thumbs run over his pink-tinted cheeks and you kiss his forehead.

"If you were that same person, you wouldn't say that." You take a breath, "I think you've changed. In a good way."

He sighs, wrapping his arms tighter around you. "I hope I have."

“I know you have,” You pause, grasping his face in your hands and getting him to pull back simply so he can gaze at you.

“How?” His voice is merely a croaked-out mumble but it’s enough that you hear it loud and clear.

“Would you be here, in my arms, after putting our daughter to bed if you hadn't changed?" You paused, eyes gazing deeply into his and searching for any doubt to crush with your words, "Would you even search for us if you were that same man? For good, not to hurt us."

He shakes his head, "I changed, didn't I?"

"In the best way possible." A soft kiss placed on his lips, one of love and devotion. A simple peck speaking every word and emotion you've ever felt--but only the good.

He smiles against the kiss, grasping at your sides and pulling you closer and closer to him. You were already so close, practically one, but he felt the need to pull you so much closer that not only were your bodies one, but so were your souls.

He pulls away from the kiss, hands resting on your face, "I love you," he nuzzles his nose against yours and you giggle, twisting your fingers into the curls on the back of his head, "so much." The last bit is whispered, like a quiet promise. A promise of devotion and loyalty. Something you're glad to finally have.

There's nothing in the way of him being with you. With your daughter.

"I love you more," You smile to him softly, a kiss placed on his forehead, and you push stray curls out of his face as he nuzzles his head against your chest.

taglist; @ella-fella-bo-bella @lillylvjy @sleepyburs @lotusanonymouse @lcvejoy

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #c!wibur #c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur #c!wilbur soot #c!wilbur soot x gn!reader #wilbur soot x gn!reader #wilbur soot x y/n #dsmp x reader #dsmp wilbur #dsmp wilbur soot

151 notes · View notes

strwbite · 11 months

Note

i can already tell this is about to be my new fav blog… can i request something about john and arthur (separately?? whatever is easiest) falling for a fem gunslinger who’s new to the gang?? :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ A/N; how sweet of you to say, anon!! thank you so much! :D <333 and yes, of course you can! gonna be so honest here, i got SUPER into writing arthur's part and made it way too long, so this post is condensed to just arthur's perspective. i'm currently writing up john's, but i think it'd make the post a bit too long if i included both, so i decided to go ahead and post this one tonight! i hope to have john's up some time tomorrow—in a separate post so nothing is too long! i hope you understand and i am so excited! i had a lot of fun writing this for you!:D i hope it's in character for arthur, i tried my best!:) anyways, enough rambling, let's get into it!

♡ ; WARNINGS; fluff, some angsty themes, descriptions of a wound, hurt/comfort ♡ ; SUMMARY; you tend to arthur's wounds and he realizes just how much he cares for you ♡ ; RATING; sfw ♡ ; CHARACTERS; arthur morgan ♡ ; DETAILS; 3.5k words, part one - find john's part here (wip)

“Arthur Morgan!”

Your voice was hushed in your throat as you whisper-shouted his name through the air of Horseshoe Overlook, your words sounding more like a scold than a greeting. Said scolding hung heavy over Arthur and he tipped his head down in embarrassment, the black leather of his hat covering what little you could see of his face. He sat in his horse's saddle, one hand holding the reins as he led her to the post. The other hand held a white-knuckled grip on the opposing shoulder, his body slouched over as he guarded it. Taking a step closer, you noticed the crimson stain seeping into button-up that lay beneath his equally bloody hand, ichor oozing out of what you could only chalk up to some sort of wound.

It was around four in the morning and most everyone at the camp was fast asleep, save for some of the camp’s night owls, who wandered around, aimlessly. You had finished your chores around camp and decided to spend some time picking up the slack where other members had failed to keep up with their responsibilities; a selfless attempt to avoid any conflict between Grimshaw and aforementioned slackers. You had been wiping down a dirtied table that sat across from the hitching posts when you were interrupted by the sound of hooves clobbering against the dew-covered grown. The hoofbeats were met with a sleep-deprived Lenny who called out, ‘Who goes there?’, which was met with Arthur’s half-hearted, ‘S’just me, Lenny.’, before he rode up to the hitching post.

“Christ, what happened to you?” You chided, rushing to his side as you took a closer look at the blood-stained hand he held over the presumed lesion. There was more blood than you had originally noticed, some of which was a deep brown that dried and seeped into the cotton of his sleeve, speaking note to just how long it had been bleeding. You reached up, gesturing for him to move his hand, but he only nursed it closer to his side, causing a grimace to spread across his face at the movement.

He was in pain, that you knew for sure—despite what you’ve learned of his durable reputation, seeing him like this worried you. You and Arthur had grown somewhat close after your arrival. At first, you had a hard time accumulating to the hectic nature of the gang, but he aided you in your transition into the Van der Linde lifestyle. He checked up on you daily, offering you food, errands—just about anything you could think of. Arthur also held conversations about your life before, allowing you to ramble on about who you are and where you came from; how different things are now—and he'd validate everything you had to say about the Gang's way of life and your upheaval. After some time, he even took to bringing you small gifts and trinkets he found when he'd run off somewhere, each time saying something along the lines of, ‘I know you ain't got none of your old stuff with you, so here, saw this and thought of you.”.

Needless to say, you had developed a strong affinity for the cowboy. So when he disappeared, seemingly without a trace, it troubled you.

You hadn’t seen or heard from him in days—in fact, no one around the camp had. Days without Arthur turned into a full week without Arthur and you couldn’t hide the concern that stirred inside of you. Despite your new position in the gang, you know this wasn’t unheard of, per se—Arthur had a habit of disappearing for days at a time, only to return with various trophies and animal pelts from his adventures. But something felt off to you, this was different. That feeling only served to be solidified when you overheard Charles muttering something along the lines of, ‘Didn’t find him when I went lookin’ earlier.’, in a passing conversation with Javier.

And yet, here he was—the cat dragged him in, albeit not without a few scratches and bruises. He slung his leg over the saddle and to the other side of his horse, a hiss slipping through his gritted teeth at the pain that seared through his shoulder at the movement. You offered him a hand and helped him down, supporting his weight to the best of your ability. After he was on the ground, you slung his non-injured arm across your shoulder, ignoring his stubborn insistence of, ‘I can walk on my own, ‘m fine.’, as you urged him to use you as support. Arthur accepted his fate and hooked his arm around your shoulders—the blood leaking from the injury at the loss of pressure—and allowed you to help him to his tent.

“Can’t believe you’d run off on us like that, Morgan—you do this a lot?” You griped at him, but concern tinged your every word. “Had everyone worried half to death—‘m glad you’re back, even though I hate seein’ you like this.”

“Ain’t nothin’ for you to make a fuss over, best you quit that bellyachin’. Don’t wanna make yourself sick worryin’ about me.” He remarked.

“Oh, Arthur, I’m always worryin’ about you.”

Arthur could hear the genuinity in your tone, so palpable and honest, and it sent a fire of guilt burning through him, his head drooping low once more in avoidance. He never meant to worry you. The last thing he ever wanted to do was keep you up at night, wondering if he was okay or if you'd ever see him again. He was adamant that a newcomer like you shouldn’t have to worry about that sort of thing in the first place—you were just getting your land legs within the gang, you shouldn’t have to concern yourself with the likes of him. Despite the remorse pooling in his stomach, it was hard to ignore the way his heart sputtered against his chest at your expressed concern. Arthur wasn’t the most in-tune with his emotions and when he was, it was scarcely pleasant. His feelings were deprecative at best, most of them leading him to believe he was undeserving of care; that everything he'd ever accomplished had been nothing but evil, hateful deeds—that he deserved all the bad things that happened to him—that would happen to him. He had it coming, of course. The thought of a lady like you caring for a wicked man like him profoundly confused him and sent his brain wracking. But even he had to admit, the way you spoke to him with such consideration piqued his interest. On one hand, he felt he wasn’t worthy of such a sweet, caring person in his life—on the other, he wondered what it would be like to be to get to know you. To open up to you. To let you in.

“I ain’t worth the fuss.” He remarked, disregarding the way his heart heaved heavy in his ears at the thought of something more tangible between the two of you. He averted his attention back to the wound he nursed on his shoulder, taking notice of the grime and debris that surrounded the gash. He assumed that all the poking and prodding at it with less-than-clean hands egged on the infection that dared to fester. His adrenaline had worn off at this point. His shoulder ached and throbbed.

“Just got myself a souvenir from an O’Driscoll, s’all—graze at that, mind you. Ain’t nothin’ to write home about—why’re you so concerned anyways, Miss?”

“Oh sure, just a graze,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes, your tone dripping with sarcasm. Despite his aloof demeanor, you continued guiding him to his tent with slow, tentative steps as you supported his weight with your own. “‘Cause, Arthur, that could get nasty real quick and I ain’t too keen on lettin’ you up and die by the hands of an O’Driscoll. Graze or not, you’re lettin’ me doctor you up—and I mean proper.”

Arthur opened his mouth to argue—to insist that he would be fine, that he didn’t need a lady such as yourself to waste precious time on a man like him, but the words fell short when he turned to look down at you. Your gaze met his own, your demeanor softened with worry and care, and it sent a flight of butterflies he didn’t quite know he had fluttering in his stomach. How could he say no to you? With a long-winded exhale, Arthur nodded his head in response, his eyes darting around the camp to avoid your stare.

“Sure.”

When the two of you reached his modest tent, you eased him into a seated position on the cot before taking a step back. With an insignificant gesture that said ‘one second’, you scurried off to grab the much-needed supplies, leaving the cowboy to sit and fester in his stirring emotions and searing pain. You weren’t gone too long, though, and you returned with a bottle of whiskey in one hand. The other held a strip of flannel and a roll of gauze.

“Now, this ain’t gonna feel good by any means,” you murmured as you lowered yourself to the cot, taking a seat next to him.

Arthur had been through this process many times—several of those times were unfortunately at the mercy of less-than-careful hands. Needless to say, he knew the pain and he knew it well. His painstaking fate mattered little to him at the moment, though, as all he could focus on was how close you sat to him. He’d sat next to you before, sure—but not like this. You sat with pure intentions, leg brushing up against his own as you leaned in to examine the wound with such care. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it—you knew of the things he had done, his reputation certainly preceded him. You knew exactly the type of man he was, tied up in his wrongdoings and sins, and yet, you didn’t question a single thing. Instead, you gave him a brief scolding and treated him with a gentle kindness he’d never quite received. You took care of him. The moment felt tender like never before, filled with consideration and attentiveness—Arthur couldn’t recall a time he had been so vulnerable with someone, save for Mary Linton, which was long over and done with.

“Don’t I know it.” He grumbled.

Arthur shifted his position on the cot, leaning forward to give you a better view of the supposed ‘graze’. What you could make of the surrounding flesh beneath his shirt’s fabric was red and inflamed, a testament to the trauma it bore. The wound itself pulsated as blood trickled down, matting the ripped fabric of the shirt to his skin. Your feeble fingers grazed around the edges as you struggled to get a closer look through squinted eyes. Some of the view was obstructed by clotting blood and torn fabric—Arthur grimaced at the sensation of your touch against the inflamed skin.

“How long I got, doc?” He queried, voice hitching in his throat in pain while he attempted to make light of the situation. You had to admit, it was a nasty wound—a bullet to the shoulder was rarely a welcomed invitation, especially to those who didn’t receive care from a proper medic, but you had seen worse.

“Well, Mister Morgan,” you spoke as your hands worked the cap of the whiskey bottle, a loud ‘pop!’ signaling that it was open. You lifted the flannel to the top of the bottle and flipped it over, soaking the material as the stench of alcohol flooded your nose. “You’ll live. Probably. Y’know you’re lucky you found yourself at the hands of a medic such as myself.”

The two of you shared a laugh at your jest—in all actuality, you had little to no idea what you were doing when it came to anything medicinal. The best you knew was to clean it with whiskey, drink the aforementioned whiskey to help with the pain, wrap it up, and pray it doesn't get infected. But you would be damned if you didn’t at least try to assist the poor man; you didn’t know Arthur to ask for help. The little time you had spent with the man proved him to be self-reliant, sometimes to a fault. The fact that he accepted your aid, albeit begrudgingly, was a surefire sign that something was wrong.

Your gesture didn’t go over his head, either, as he watched you work the bottle and cloth with attentive hands. He shook his head and a nervous-lipped grin twitched at his lips as he looked down at the liquid courage in your hands.

“S’pose you’re right. Dunno what I’d do with myself if it weren’t for you.”

“You’d do nothin’, I imagine it’d be a lonesome life, Mister Morgan. ‘Sides, who else ‘round here would fix up your,” You paused, as if searching for the right words, “Graze wounds, if you hadn’t met me?”

And with that, you raised the alcohol-soaked strip to the wound and gingerly pressed it against the laceration, dabbing it in repetition to remove any excess blood or dirt. Arthur flinched in response to the cloth brushing against the inflammation, followed by a small hiss slipping through gritted teeth as the raw sting of whiskey sept into the gash. You worked with vigilance and the most delicate touch you could manage, and he sat still for you, knowing it was for the better. The consequences posed if you didn’t flush it out served enough for him to bite his tongue and suffer through the pain.

When you finished the final touches of your doctoring, you pulled the flannel away and discarded it to the cot beside you. You replaced it with the roll of gauze and worked it around his arm, covering the scrape and securing it to itself. After finishing, your hand lingered on the unbothered skin below, your thumb rubbing circles against the skin to soothe him.

“It ain't perfect by any means, but that should do it.” You assured him with a gentle smile.

At this point, you sat so close to him. You enveloped Arthur’s every sense, from the wavering heat of your hand against his arm to the smell of gunpowder and wildflowers wafting off of you—the sight of you peering up at him with such fondness sent his heart racing once again. His hands fidgeted, nervous and awkward, as he stared at you for just a moment longer than necessary, before breaking away. The grip you had on Arthur grew tighter and tighter with every moment he spent in your presence. He wasn’t the best with these sorts of things, finding it all too complicated and confusing to put into words; he even rambled about it in his journal, writing, ‘I am not sure why I find myself so drawn to her; how do I explain this to her if I can’t even explain it to myself?’. From the way you carried yourself across the camp with such poise, to the way you gawked at him from across the campfire sent sparks flying in Arthur’s mind. Not to mention the eager way you rushed up to speak with him every time he came home—he was enamored with you, as nervous as he was to admit it.

“Thank you,” Arthur murmured as his eyes darted from yours to the thumb tracing circles on his bicep. He prayed you wouldn’t notice the flush that crept across his cheeks, starting from his nose, traveling all the way to his ears and neck.

Despite his wishful thinking, you noticed it, but you found it endearing. You had never seen Arthur this flustered—tongue-tied, sure, but never quite like this.

“I sure do appreciate it.”

You gave him a soft smile, eyes trailing along the heat that crept across his sun-kissed cheeks. You started to stand from the cot, keeping your eyes set on him as you rose to your feet. “‘Course, Arthur. Now, you just go ahead and rest up, all right?”

He nodded along as you spoke, avoiding looking into your eyes with a sense of embarrassment. It was never his intention to worry you, and he knew he'd be beating himself up for weeks over this entire endeavor. “Thank you for takin’ care of me—didn’t think you’d much care ‘bout it, 'bout me. ‘M sorry for bein’ gone so long.”

“Pfft,” You stifled a small laugh from within your throat as you placed a flattened palm against his non-injured shoulder, urging him to look up at you. “Don’t mention it. And ‘course I care ‘bout it. I care ‘bout you, Arthur—we all do.”

You offered him, yet another, sweet smile and used your thumb to rub the same circles against his shoulder. If you’d let him, Arthur was certain he'd stay like this for hours—under the comfort of your touch as the soft glow from oil lamps and moonlight shone over you. Your time spent with him was short-lived, sure, but there was no denying the way he gravitated to you. You were a fresh face, so kind and sweet to everyone you met, despite your reticence, and he found himself wanting to spend time with you. He'd ask you to accompany him into town, even if it were just to drop off some mail or pick up something on behalf of Dutch. He even took to bringing you along while hunting or going on scouting missions, despite initial hesitance. He was reluctant to put your in harm's way, but with some convincing on your end and a showcase of your way around a gun, he obliged you and found himself enjoying the company.

The world made sense when you were around, not so much when you weren’t.

“I care 'bout you, too. I'd even say I enjoy havin' you around, 'specially when you're fixin' me up." Arthur blurted out after a moment's silence, hands fidgeting as the boldness of his words sat heavy on his shoulders. Nerves soon sat in and his stomach twisted into a bundle of anxiety, sweat beading at his hands and forehead—did he say the wrong thing?

"Pardon, I, uh, not that I don't always enjoy your company, ‘cause I sure do-you're, uh, a real pleasure to be around, s'just—am I talkin' too much? Feels like ‘m talkin’ too much.”

He blabbered on, stammering over his words as he struggled to form a coherent sentence and you couldn’t conceal the laugh that slipped from your lips. It wasn’t one of malice or mockery; it was pure admiration.

“Oh, Arthur,” you sighed, your voice filled with warmth and affection that sent a fire of nerves burning through him. With a mix of nervousness and longing, you leaned in closer, bridging the gap between the two of you. Your eyes locked, and you could sense the anticipation in the cool air surrounding you. At that moment, time seemed to falter and come to a standstill. One of your hands caressed his hair, running your fingers through the long locks just before your lips met his in a tender, heartfelt kiss. It was soft, sweet, and everything he had ever wanted. His entire body tensed up as he felt your touch against him—it was supple and delicate, a tenderness he had seldom been gifted before, such a contrast to the pain that scorched through his shoulder and his very being. As if he needed any more confirmation, the feeling of your gentle affection laid upon him solidified everything—you made sense. He wanted to know you. He needed to know you.

With that, you pulled back, just after trailing another light touch through his hair, before you stood back to your upright position. He said nothing. You didn’t either. No words were needed when your sentiment spoke a thousand things more than he could ever dream of saying. The two of you lingered for a moment, taking in the moment as you stroked a delicate thumb against his stubble-covered cheek, tracing his time-weathered features. He leaned into your touch, ever-so-slightly.

Finally, you broke the spell of silence, your voice inching just above a whisper, “Get some rest, Arthur. You need it.”

With a final graze across his cheek, you retracted your hand and headed out of his tent, returning to the tables you were tending to, but his image stayed etched deep in your mind.

Arthur watched you retreat, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to shake the warmth that pooled in him at your kiss. His mind swirled with emotions he couldn’t quite put into words. He hadn’t felt like that in a long time; it was a feeling he thought he had lost forever, and he still questioned if he truly deserved it, even now. He replayed the fleeting moment in his mind, committing every detail to memory—the touch of your hand, the softness of your lips, the tenderness in your eyes.

With deliberate movements, mindful not to aggravate his injured shoulder, he settled flat on his back, lying down on the cot. His gaze fixed on the canvas ceiling above and his thoughts raced, consumed by you and what could be.

Gradually, sleep beckoned Arthur, tempting him with heavy eyelids and the gentle chorus of crickets chirping in the nearby woods. As the night wore on, the camp embraced a stillness that only the wilderness could offer, coaxing him into a deep sleep. In that stillness, your presence lingered, a gentle reminder that Arthur wasn’t alone; that you cared for him.

Just as he cared for you.

336 notes · View notes

chaotic-on-main · 1 year

Text

Dandelions | CanonAU One-Shot

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x gn!Reader

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ friends to lovers, first date, love confessions, just pure unadulterated FLUFF

☾ A/N ➼ I'm gonna have to start a separate thing for my song fics I s2g. The amount of songs I have written down to write fics about is insane. Anyways, this is actually a little fic I wrote for @humanitys-strongest-bamf because she said she really wanted a flower date written for her. I kinda took that idea as well as the inspiration from Ruth B's song Dandelions (attached below) AND I forgot Kat had also sent me a prompt request awhile back so this also fulfills that lmao. I hope y'all enjoy!! I've listened to this song for days on repeat so I hope I have captured it well.

☾ Word Count ➼ ~2k

It had only taken a couple months for the pure titans to be disposed of, thanks to the efforts of the scouts. This eradication is the reason why you find yourself sneaking off for another lone ride before dusk falls. The hard part wasn’t getting your horse or permission to go outside the walls, it was trying to get out without too many questions from your fellow cadets. You didn’t know how to tell them this was your way of escaping from them and everything else that came crashing since the battle of Shiganshina.

“Oi oi oi! Where do you think you’re going?” A deep voice rings out behind you as you’re saddling up. You feel your heart jump with your body. You take a deep breath to steady yourself before turning around to face a stern Captain Levi.

“Just a little ride before dinner tonight, Levi. I already got the okay.” He eyes you wearily.

“By yourself?” He crosses his arms.

“Yes, by myself. It’s not like we have any threats out there anymore.” You roll your eyes, smile now fading, before turning back around to tighten straps.

“People can be just as dangerous.” He gripes back. You feel his eyes burning holes in your head.

“Sounds like someone is worried about me.”

“Of course, I’m worried. Who knows what trouble you’ll get yourself into.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Tch, I trust you.” His words make you grin, but you quickly wipe it off your face before turning back around once you’re satisfied with your gear. You stare at him for a moment, his eyes meeting yours a second later.

“I’ll be back. I promise.” You say softly as you grip your reins tightly ready to lead your horse out of the stables.

“Just be careful.” He mutters, stepping aside to give you space to leave. His words make your heart jump again. Your eyes linger on each other as you walk past, a quick nod shared between the two of you as a goodbye.

On today's ride, you decide to aim for a bundle of trees sitting at the base of a small mountain to the west of the southern gate that you had noticed a while back. A couple hours pass before your destination comes into view. By your estimate, you had about an hour before being forced to head back lest you be surrounded by darkness.

You stare into the thick trees as you hand feed a treat to your tied off horse, an abrupt nip at your fingers alerting you to your now treat-less palm. A small laugh escapes your lips as you pat her nose reassuringly.

"I'll be back, okay? Don't go anywhere." You whisper up at her wide eyes. She bids you goodbye with another nip.

As you make your way through the overgrown shrubbery and gangly trees, you can't help but feel excitement for what might be on the other side. Looking up, you use a hand to half cover your eyes from the late afternoon sun filtering in between the leafy branches. Bird song weaves through the now thickening trees and into your ears. You softly whistle the song back as your fingers fumble with the latches on your waist. After a moment, the sketchbook you currently use as a guidebook is free from its confines. As always with every expedition you've ever been on, you are ready to document anything you see and hear.

It takes several more minutes before you finally stumble into a clearing. Whatever you had expected to find, it was leagues under from your current display. A meadow, far grander than anything you've ever seen, expands in an oval in front of you. Trees surround the whole area tall and strong, like knights in a line of defense. A small stream cuts through diagonally, telling stories with its gentle babble. You step deeper into it all with your eyes as wide as can be, soaking in this picture-perfect moment.

Looking down as you walk, your eyes become overwhelmed with the multitude of colors peppering your vision. Flowers of various sizes and lengths shift in the breeze as you walk by and something in you warms. Your eyes catch something that makes you stop abruptly.

“Oh wow.” You whisper as you slide down to your hands and knees so that you are eye level with a particular looking plant that didn’t very much look like a flower at all. The stem is brown, an odd color, you think, but it looked like a normal stem at least. The top however, where the petals would be, was soft and… furry? You reach out and lightly touch it. Much to your surprise, some of the fuzzy bits detach and fly off into the wind. A burst of laughter escapes from your chest and a memory stirs within you at the sight.

Armin had talked to you about these plants - dandelions. According to him, if you blow on the white bits to make them scatter and make a wish at the same time, it will come true. It was so silly, you think, but really what could it hurt? People wish on shooting stars all the time - this would be no different.

It takes you a moment, but you find a dandelion perfect for the wish you had in mind. You decide to plop yourself into the plush grass next to the creek, flower in hand. You feel a rush of heat sear your cheeks at not only what you were about to do but also what you were about to wish for. After making sure you were alone with a quick survey around, you sit forward and stare hard at the white fuzz. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath.

“I wish for Levi to be mine.” Then blow.

Levi calls your name from behind, snapping you out of your anxious thoughts for a moment. You pull back on your reins until Levi can fall into step with you. When you glance over, he arches an eyebrow at you with a silent question of, "Where are we going?" He must have noticed your change in course, now heading west instead of straight south. To be honest, you wouldn’t have even noticed that you had shifted directions if Levi hadn’t said anything. This ride has become second nature to you. After your initial discovery, the meadow quickly became your fortress of solitude and you found yourself coming back again and again without thinking about it.

After weeks of patiently waiting, an opportunity to team up with Levi to check out the port construction progression finally came. Whether that came from luck or your constant pestering to Commander Hange, you didn't know. Regardless, you were both nervous and excited to finally share your most prized secret with Levi no less. All you give him in return for his silent question is a simple, "Trust me." before squeezing your thighs together then galloping off, leaving your captain in the dust.

The sun bares straight down by the time you and Levi make it to your makeshift hitching post just outside your favored path. On the ground next to it sits a half bucket of water and you give yourself a mental reminder to fill it the next time you’re here. Levi doesn't say anything as he ties off his horse, mirroring your movements with deft fingers. Nor does he say anything as you pull off the basket you had tied onto your saddle so long ago hidden with goodies you packed the night before. He still doesn't say anything as he follows you on the beaten path you’ve made from your many visits. Levi's silence was normal, and yet…

"Aren't you going to ask where I'm taking you? I could be leading you to your death, you know." You glance back at Levi, eyes locking on each other. His expression might be unreadable to most, but to you there was a subtle bliss written all over his face. You shoot him a smile while you wait for his answer.

"You asked me to trust you. So I'm trusting you. Besides, you can't take me on your own. You got a death wish?" He grumbles back to you.

"Who said I was alone?" You quip as you twist back around to watch where you were going, swinging the basket in your hands as you walk. Levi scoffs behind you. A comfortable silence blankets the both of you yet again.

It takes a bit but finally the clearing comes into view and those anxious thoughts start clouding your mind again. What if he thinks this is a waste of time? What if he thinks you're ridiculous for this? What if he doesn't share the same feelings for you as you do for him? Levi calls your name again to get your attention. God, you loved how he said your name.

Your eyes focus just as you step through with Levi in tandem. There's a gentle wind today; it blows through the multi-colored meadow in a way that makes the flowers look like they're dancing. The breeze is even soft enough that your favored dandelions stay intact, not a single seed threatens to blow away.

"Is this where you’ve been escaping to?"

"You notice?" You glance his way nervously. As usual, he has no significant emotion on his face, but to say he was emotionless would be a lie. His eyes shift from the babbling creek to the colorful field and then onto your face, eyes soft. The way he looks at you, it makes a part of you feel so alive and free.

"Sometimes." His comment makes you look away, a flush of heat already nipping at your cheeks.

"I-uh, I wanna show you something." You set off deeper into the meadow without checking to see if he’s following.

A moment later, you come upon the spot you had surveyed a couple days in advance, perfect for what you had in mind. In a swift motion, you pull out a blanket from the basket hanging from your arm and splay it on the ground. Once settled, you plop yourself down on the cloth to keep it from flying away. When you look up, Levi’s staring at you incredulously.

“Is this a date?” he asks dryly.

“Do you want it to be?” You ask, patting the empty spot next to you as you do. He hesitantly sits down next to you, unsure of what to do with his body but eventually settles on sitting crisscross like you. He stares over at you, a little bit of shock cracking through his still features. “Levi, I’m kidding. It doesn’t have to be. I just wanted to show you my favorite spot.” You mutter over to him, rolling your eyes. You swallow down your nerves. Maybe he isn’t as interested in you as you had hoped. As you start to unpack the basket of the lunch rations you had stowed away, he speaks up softly.

“I wouldn’t mind. It being a date, I mean.” His voice stays monotone, but his words make you double-take at him. Levi is flushed pink, starting from his neck then ending at the tips of his ears. A wide grin breaks out on your face as you finally comprehend what he just said.

“Really? Because this would have been so embarrassing if you didn’t feel the same way. I mean, I would have had to run away and start a new life somewhere else. When I talked to Mikasa about this, she was all ‘love like this only happens once in a lifetime.’ and it made me think that you might actually be the love of mi-“ You’re cut off by Levi’s nimble fingers pulling your chin in his direction, his face a lot closer than you remembered it being. He whispers your name again.

“Shut up.” And then his lips are on yours, soft and tender. You don’t remember much after that, but you do know that whatever they said about wishing on dandelions had to be true. And you couldn’t wait to wish upon many more in the meadow now shared between you and Levi.

taglist: @humanitys-strongest-bamf @averysmolbear @youre-ackermine @notgoodforlife @roseofdarknessblog @missamity @levis-squishy-cheeks @icansmellsouls @Dkbktk420 (idk why it won't let me tag you properly) If you'd like to join my taglist, please go here! Your information will never be shared. <3

#attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi x gn!reader #levi ackerman x gn!reader #fluff #canon #canonverse #canon au #levi ackerman fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #dandelions #Spotify

169 notes · View notes

echantedtoon · 10 days

Text

Ocean Deep Ch4 Kindness And Help Go Hand In Hand

(Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, selling of mers, the bad conditions they endured, mistreatment of the wives, and mermen sinking ships and harming people. Yn gets a cut on her palm. Mentioning of blood.

To which Y/n learns that her kind act has come with work but others also learn that they can appreciate the work put into the kindness. If you need a refresher on what fish I based their tails on take a look at the links.

HINATSURU:

Strawberry Peacock

MAKIO:

Golden Dragon Koi

SUMA:

(all blue) Halfmoon Betta Fish )

You know..It all seemed like just a bad dream when you woke up sprawled out on the cold floor instead of your bed.

F/c eyes slowly blinked open and you found yourself staring at the ceiling. You stared at it for a long time allowing your brain to process the sleepiness away, at least enough for you to groan and sit up with a hand rubbing your face. Autopilot kicked in as you did the usual morning routine of making your bed, mentally cursing yourself for rolling out of it, and going about your business making breakfast, combing your hair, and getting dressed. It wasn't until you were tying the belt around your waist did the events of last night suddenly flew right back into memory harder than someone hitting you with a boulder.

Mermaids. ...You stole three mermaids from the Henyas' property and stashed them in your bathhouse!! The last events of the night before hit you straight away-

You had just returned back home, sneaking between the shadows on high alert not normal for a human. You'd done your best to dry the back of the wagon with a couple towels before sneaking the horse back to the flower shop and tying the pony back to it's post. Leaving it in the original spot you found it in since it might look suspicious if you left a horse and buggy that didn't belong to you outside your home. Someone might think you were trying to see it. You didn't need that on your head too. Thankfully no one seemed to notice anything either sound asleep or too afraid to come outside because of the rumor of monsters. You sighed once safely inside your home and the first thing you did was head straight for the guest room. It was a Smaller room barely bigger than the pantry used mainly to just house the occasional guest, but it had a small bath too and you were tired of running around soaked by dirty smelling water. So you didn't return to your unsuspecting guests until you took the time to thoroughly bath and put on a clean dress.

"You three look and smell a whole lot better."

You had barely given the three half fish women a second glance. Too busy rinsing the tub out after draining the soapy water before again filling it with clean water. This time filling it up all the way instead of halfway this time. The three mermaids in question were lying in various poses on the tiles bathroom floor, and honestly they DID look better. Their hair was now shiny instead of greasy, their skin looked slightly red from scrubbing hard but it looked less dirty, and their tails looked shinier but you barely noticed being too tired and just wanting to get this over with so you can sleep.

"Yes. Thank you very much for lending us your clothing," Pink smiled at you.

Orange looked a mixture of tired and bored while Blue gushed about how pretty your flower print dress looked on her. Pink seemed to be the only one who talked to you calmly and happily. The clothes they had previously been wearing was in a pile by the door along with the towels they used. You'd deep clean them all before you went to sleep. That way they'd be dry by morning.

"It's not a problem. Those old clothes were disgusting to say the least. ..There. That should be enough water for you all to sleep comfortably in. Better than the nasty tank you were in at least."

"Again thank you. I doubt we would've been able to even leave at all if you hadn't taken us into consideration."

"Yeah..Well I would've felt bad about leaving you behind like that."

"You look tired. You should get some rest and sleep."

It was kinda a blur after that. You briefly remember the scent of freshly clean clothes and the darkness as you hung up wet laundry and the feeling of laying down but that was it. No. None of that could've been real could it? It was just a fever dream after being paranoid all night and staying up late! Yeah! That was it! You had a wild dream due to your fear and your tired mind. Why if you walked into your bathroom right now then you wouldn't see anything! That's why now in the present you were standing in front of the door that lead into the main family bathroom. Hesitantly you inhaled before quietly reaching a hand out. Grabbed the doorknob. And then opened it to see..

Absolutely nothing.

You blinked. There was... nothing. It looked the same as it did yesterday morning when you left for work. Towels and soaps neatly placed on the shelf. Room fully clean without a single drop on the floor. Spotless. The only thing out of place was the tub full of water, but you probably just forgot to drain it out. With a sigh you leaned against the door frame.

"It was just a dream."

SLASH!!

"HI!!"

"AAAHH!!"

You ended up falling backwards onto your behind as a spray of droplets rained everywhere. Staring shocked at the edge of the tub as a pair of eyes stared back to you.

"Uh... Oops. Sorry."

"Great going. Are you going to make her fall into the water and an encore?" Orange popped her head up as Blue whipped to her.

"I didn't mean to!! I was just saying hi!!"

"Well you sure did a good job!"

"....Oh good gods. It wasn't a dream." You mumbled shakily reaching out and pulling yourself off the floor.

Soon three heads were now poking out of the water and staring at you in a mix of emotions. Ggggrreeaaattt. Looks like you really weren't dreaming. The reality made you sigh and reach out a hand to rub your forehead.

"Good morning!," Blue called out again as cheery as a little kid with candy waving a full arm. "Did you sleep well?"

"Hardly. I'm still tired and sore." Your body wasn't as tired and sore as you were last night but you were still feeling like taking a nap. "Are you alright?"

"We're fine," Pink confirmed with a smile at you. "Were you cooking food? There's a smell in the air."

"You means eggs and bacon?" You glanced at the three of them in curiosity. "Can mermaids eat eggs and bacon?" It was a genuine question.

"Depends. What animal are the eggs from and what's bacon?"

"Um. They're chicken eggs and bacon comes from pigs. Y'know. Pork."

All three seemed to light up at the mentions of meats and protein.

"Oh! Oh! Do you have claims? I love claims!"

"We're not in the ocean! There wouldn't be claims in here!!"

You ignored the other two in favor of giving Pink a deadpanned look. "Are they always like this?"

Pink sighed. "Unfortunately."

"...Are you three hungry?" Well that got Blue and Orange to stop arguing and whip around to you so fast and wide eyed it had you jumping. "I'll take that as a yes. I'm gonna go cook some for you guys, just STOP arguing. You'll make the neighbors angry and I don't think I can explain why three mermaids are in my bathhouse."

Never thought you'd be cooking bacon and eggs for three mermaids but here you were. Cooking enough food for you to open up a buffet for breakfast. How much did mermaids eat? They were bigger than you- Or should you say longer? You suspected if they were actually human, they'd be about as tall as you. But their tales made it to where they had longer bodies than you, so you guessed that they must've needed more food. Bigger bodies means more food needed right? Like how bigger plants needed more water than smaller plants. It was only a guess and if there was anything left over you'd just store it away for later.

You ended up having to carry everything in on a tray, and from the moment you entered there was a clear shift in both the air and their bodies. You paused when meeting their gaze. Dilated pupils and enlarged irises stared you down. Stiff movements akin to a cat rolling back their shoulders.

A predator staring down it's prey.

A shiver ran down through your body as you cautiously approached and set down the tray just within arm's distance of them. "Here. Wait a second and I'll get you some utensils-"

They lunged at you. You shrieked arms flying up to shield yourself from the upcoming assault. This was it! This is how you died! Torn apart by a mermaid feeding frenzy! A metal clattering sound filled the air followed by a splash. You'd be next to meet the watery grave. Your body would feel hands on you any moment ready to drag you down-

"KYYYAA!! THIS IS SO GOOD!!"

...WOT-

F/c eyes slowly opened up as your arms lowered just enough to peek out.

"Hm. This is pretty good..Not as tasty as lobster but it's good."

You stared dumbfounded as the three of them grabbed random amounts of eggs and bacon in their hands and was tearing the food apart with sharp teeth before swallowing them down like it was nothing. Rip. Tear. Swallow. Rip. Tear. Swallow. Over and over they frenzied grabbing the spilt food across the tiled floor and the food floating in the water. Diving in and splashing around sending water droplets spraying everywhere and water sloshing over the sides getting the floor wet. Every piece devoured like a trio of piranhas on their last meal before they died. Eventually it calmed down with the three of them licking their fangs clean and seeming content.

"That was the best meal we've had in weeks!," Blue gushed before looking at you absolutely beaming. "Can we have some more?!"

...You blinked. "Uh. Sure. I can see what else I have but w-what the heck?" You gestured in shock at your now wet floor and slightly wet dress. "It looks like a wave crashed in my bathroom."

"Sorry." You looked up in even more slight surprise at Orange. That..was the first thing she said around you that wasn't a shout or insult or complaint as she looked slightly away. "It's just...W-We haven't eaten a good meal in a while, and we were hungry."

You stood back up lightly shaking your wet foot. "I can tell..How often were you fed?"

"A couple fish every few days? I think." Her expression squinted to one of deep thought. "We were lucky to get that. The dam food wasn't in any condition to eat-"

"Maki."

Orange snapped a raged scowl at Pink. "Well it was eat that or starve! Did you want to give them the satisfaction of dying?!"

"Can mermaids eat plants?" You waved a hand to gain their attention. "Y'know like apples and cucumbers and stuff."

"Huh? I mean yes but it's not as good tasting as meat. Why?"

"Because currently all I have in my pantry is potatoes and other fruits and vegetables. It might not be as tasty but you'll have to eat it until I can get back from work."

"Work?! But why are you leaving?!"

"Because I need money for the meat you guys like, and I need to work because I like my job. But I'll give you guys more food before I go. Is there anything else you want?"

The three of them looked at one another in shocked silence. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, maybe a comb?"

"A comb? I can do that but do me one thing first. Can you give me back my tray? It's not supposed to be in the bath."

*************

The front door to the flower shop opened right up as you pushed it open and stepped inside. Your voice calling out into the space for boss, but the old woman didn't answer you back. Not very strange. Sometimes you'd show up long before your boss did and that's alright. It was also relieving because then no one would know that you showed up and hour and a half late to work making it look less suspicious. You really didn't want to explain why you were late today, even if you were sure you could easily say you just slept in and lost track of time as an excuse. With Mrs. Satoshi no where to be seen, you quickly went about your duties and just did what you normally do around here. Take care of the many flowers that called this tiny shop home. The normalcy of the routine helped to calm your spiked nerves being so familiar. It almost made you forget about the three women in your home.. Almost.

You'd left the three with a large bag of random fruits and vegetables you just threw in there to fill up your stomachs and a comb for you guessed their hair. Made sense they'd want to properly take care of themselves after everything they suffered. You didn't know what it was like being shoved into a cramped space with three people to share it with, stuck in filthy grime and water never being changed and barely fed for weeks. It made you feel both angry and sorry for them. You were still unsure of what you were going to do with them. Obviously you weren't going to toss them at anyone. You might've still been weary around them but you weren't a cruel person. .. Maybe you could release them into the river nearby? Yeah! That could work! You could just release them into the river and everything would be fixed. They'd be free, you'd be free from them, and no one would ever know! Perfect! Your life would go right back to how it was before this entire mess dropped into your lap.

You were happily lost in thought smiling at nothing when the door suddenly opened up causing you to jump and turn around eyes wids as a man entered the shop. He was tall with dark eyes and grey hair. He gave a look around before landing on you and he smiled a familiar kind smile. You recognized him easily.

"Niko." You were surprised to see him but smiled and turned to him. "What are you doing here?"

You knew instantly who he was. After all he looked exactly like his mother would if she was younger and a man. He smiled wider. "Hi, Y/n! I'm surprised to see you working with Ma not around."

"Well someone has to take care of the shop. What are you doing here?," you asked again raising a brow. "I thought you were supposed to be here yesterday."

"Ah! A-About that!" He tiredly reached up a hand to rub his neck and it was only then that you noticed the bags under his eyes and how disheveled he looked. Was he ok? "My wife unexpectedly went into labor the other day. Guess the babies didn't wanna wait."

His wife had"" their children? ....Well THAT explained everything.

You couldn't help but smile. "Congratulations, Niko! That's amazing! Are they girls or boys?"

"Two boys and a little girl." He smiled fondly. "I can already picture her begging for another sister once she's bigger. Haha."

"That's wonderful! You're so lucky! Is your wife ok?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Ma's with her right now while I take care of a few things." Ah. That's why she wasn't here. "I was told there was some pots here for me to deliver-" he looked around again. "B-But I don't see any." You froze. "I guess Ma got someone else to do it."

"Uh..Well you shouldn't worry about that since you don't have to do it." You said quickly with a forced smile. "You should just head on home and make sure your wife has you by her side."

"I guess you're right." He sighed in relief. "That's just one less thing I gotta do. I'll be taking my horse back though. I hope you guys didn't need him for anything else."

"Oh no no. He's probably bored staying in the SAME SPOT all day and night not at ALL moving an inch since yesterday." You stressed but he didn't seem to notice in his tired state. "You go right ahead and take him home."

"Y-Yeah. I'll do that. Thanks, Y/n. Hey. Can I buy some carnations while I'm here? I'm sure she'd love them after everything she went through yesterday."

"Of course!"

You had gotten some money from Niko buying a rather large bouquet for his wife and to your relief he had ended up taking the horse and wagon away. It was like the last piece of evidence that connected the shop to the crime of last night, but now you'd have to figure out another way to transport them to the river. You'd worry about that later. You'd just be rest assured for now that you had found the solution to the problem.

The rest of the day was uneventful as it had always usually been. You happily skipped home with a smile on your face and a basket of fish in your hands. It wasn't a lot but the butcher gave them to you for a decent prize with what money you had and you were sure the others would appreciate it. The door to your home opened and closed behind you as you stepped inside. Relief flooding into your veins as soon as you approached the familiar route leading out to the bathroom. Mouth opening to call out to the three-

"How are we going to get them back?"

Your feet stopped blinking at the sudden question. That..sounded like Orange's voice.

"I-..*sigh* I don't know. Maybe it's better that we just leave them behind." Pink eyes glanced over at her oranged eyed counterpart lazily floating around the water bobbing like a leaf with a hard scowl on her features.

"There is absolutely NO fucking way I'm leaving anything behind for them!! They can't have it! It's-..." Her face slowly melted into one a mix of silent longing. And.. fear. "It's the only thing we have left of him. We could never see him again."

Her mouth opened reaching out for her but slowly her mouth closed and her arm lowered back into the water. "I know. But you know as well as us that there's no physical way we can get back there."

"Why can't we just ask her to get them for us?" Their third counterpart finally decided to pipe up between her rare quietness. ...Then again her silence was probably chalked up to feasting on whatever she could grab from the giant bag. Currently she was holding it in one hand while digging he arm around inside.

"No. Absolutely not." Her pink eyes narrowed as she held up a hand and shut that down quickly. "We can't ask her to do that. She's already done enough without even asking for anything more in return."

"And we don't know if she'll stab us in the back and make off with the jewels! And don't pretend like she wouldn't! All humans are selfish and greedy if you dangle riches in their faces!" Her arms crossed and her scowl pierced the water. "It's always been like that."

"That's a very rude assumption you'd make about me."

The mermaid holding the bag squealed and ended up falling off the edge colliding with the scowling one who's curse was cut off as both were forced underwater with a massive splash. There was a sputter of water sloshing and more splashing before three wide pairs of eyes stared at you in the doorway. You stared at them deadpanned or more specifically at Orange.

"Ok. Look, You!" You pointed at Orange and frowned stepping into the bathroom. "I'm not going to pretend to know everything about what you three went through because I don't, and I won't pretend to know how you three must feel because again I obviously don't! But I didn't ask for this!" You gestured to the three of them. "I didn't ask to be taking care of three mermaids who I don't even know and could probably put me in danger but y'know what?" You stopped just in front of the large bath, firmly putting the basket down and staring right at Orange. Pointing a finger directly at her to make her know exactly WHO you were speaking to. "You don't have to like me! I'm not asking you to like me but the least you can do is not be rude to me! I don't WANT to be in this situation anymore than you do! That's why I was going to leave when I first saw you! I just want a normal life like everyone else here!"

..She scowled again. "Then why did you help us if you were so worried about your perfect normal life?!"

"I DON'T KNOW!" You shouted at her making her lose the scowl on her face. "WHAT?! You think I know why?! No! For all I know I could be the next meal you put into your stomachs! I'm terrified of you.. But-" F/c eyes closed. Body deflated. Sigh escaping your lips. "But if I just abandoned you then I would be no better than the people who put you in there in the first place."

There was a good long silence as the three just looked at one another for a long moment. Unsure. Shocked. Stunned. Maybe guilty. When it was obviously they weren't going to say anything, you sighed again and nudged the basket towards them with your foot.

"Here. I thought you might enjoy something a bit more to your taste."

Again hesitance but eventually Blue reached out to grab the basket and peek inside- "IT'S SALMON!!!"

You winced at the sudden shift in volume and the sudden one eighty switch from unsure and shocked to absolutely happiness. Her eyes sparkles and a hint of drool covered her mouth as she looked inside-

"Gimme that!" Orange ignored the loud 'HEY' Blue gave her snatching the basket out of her hands to look inside, becoming surprised at the sight of fresh salmon staring up at her. A hand reached inside and pulled one out examining it around in a cartwheel motion before sniffing it. "It's fresh." Her tone was surprised.

"Well actually they're two days old," you corrected a bit embarrassed, "That's why they were on sale, but they're still good to eat. If you give me a few minutes I'll cook-" You paused as without hesitation Orange opened her mouth wide and with sharp fangs completely bit off the head of the fish she holding with a crunch sound. "Uh...Or not I guess. Your welcome?"

Blue whined at Orange for 'being mean' and grabbed the basket back leading to the both of them hissing at one another and tugging the basket in a game of tug of war. Pink only sighed again and turned to you again.

"That was very considerate of you."

You shrugged. "I mean you guys live in water, and what else would there be for you to eat down there? It was kinda obvious..No offense."

She giggled and smiled brightly. Wow. She did look really pretty when she smiled. "None taken. But I do have to ask." Her slight frown came back. "How much did you overhear?"

F/c eyes stared into pink ones before you sighed. "A little bit of it. You guys were talking pretty loudly." It felt a bit bad to confessing to eavesdropping but it's true. They were loud enough for you to hear them from the front door..Hm. that's a problem. "But I'm serious! You guys really need to be more quiet. Anyone could've heard you, and I don't think that'll be good for any of us. So could you please try to stop these two from yelling?" You gestured to the two that were still fighting over the basket.

Pink sighed again. "I'll try. It's not exactly easy."

"What were you guys talking about anyways?" She hummed. "I heard you yelling about leaving something behind." Blue and Orange stopped fighting long enough to snap at you with Blue holding up the basket and pushing Orange's reaching form away from it. That got their attention. "Are there more of you back there?"

Pink shook her head slowly humming. "No. Not really. At least not in the barn we were kept in. Some..things of ours are still back there is all. You shouldn't worry yourself about it." She quickly held up a hand. "It's all replaceable in the end and the risk of going back there is just not worth it."

A brow rose confused. "You lost something?"

"More like something was stolen from us." Orange once again scowled and crossed her arms.

"What was stolen?" You weren't sure what a mermaid could have that could be stolen. You didn't think they had backpacks or anything like that in the water.

"Mak-"

"Hey! Doesn't she have a right to know?," Orange countered cutting Pink off, "It's not like we're going anywhere anyways." You stared at the two of them confused. What were they talking about? Orange looked directly at you sizing you up for three seconds. "It's treasure."

Well you weren't expecting that. You blinked surprised. "Treasure?"

"It's not exactly treasure. It's just some jewelry like bracelets and a few strands of gold is all. They were forcibly taken off of us after we got caught."

Jewelry huh? Granted you know a lot about mermaids but with this being a mostly fishing community, you've heard your fair bit about mermaid stories. Mostly the bad ones only. How they'd sing to attract people to their watery deaths. Making ships sink. Some attacking humans only to drown them and eat their corpses- A shiver ran through you. But there was the occasional not so bad ones. Like how these creatures always hoarded treasure from ships they sunk. Guess that rumor was true, at least for these three.

"I-.. Didn't see anything like that in the barn."

"Because it's hidden." Pink made a rectangle shape with her hands. "They're in an old chest about this big." She then held out her hands about a width of two feet apart. "I think they used to use it as an old bait box because it smelled like old fish."

An old box? "I still didn't see anything like that there. Hm. Although it was dark. I could've missed it I guess."

"It's hidden under the stack of hay. I don't think they've done anything with them yet," Pink hummed in thought. "It would probably look rather suspicious to suddenly spend a large amount of treasure in a short amount of time."

"I'm sorry for that." Your head tilted and your brow rose. "I hope you don't mind me asking but is that stuff really important? I mean I guess it's really valuable but couldn't you just replace it?"

Pink jolted but was quick to nod in agreement. "Y-Yes! You're absolutely right! Everything can be replaced! We shouldn't worry about it! Neither should you-"

"They were gifts from someone really important to us." Pink snapped a glare at Orange who shrugged. "What? She asked."

"We're not going to ask her to get them and THAT'S final!" You were a bit taken aback by Pink's shout. You hadn't seen her calm self get angry before now. "We're lucky to have gotten out of there! And we are not taking anymore risks!" Orange huffed but seemed to drop the subject. Pink sighed and looked at you. "I'm sorry. Please forget anything about this. You've already gotten into enough trouble helping us."

"Will do!" You agreed quickly with a thumbs up! "If I'm honest, I don't plan on going back there even if I was offered all the treasures in the sea." Orange gave a look.. before turning away, giving a look at the water below. "Now you three better eat up and get some rest. It's getting late...I think your old clothes might be dry now. I'm betting you'd want them back."

Pink clapped her hands together. "Yes, please! You'd probably want your own dresses back."

"Sure."....Your gaze glanced over to Orange who still floated curled up and saddened. ".. Actually. There's some holes in the fabric I need to sew up for you. Why don't you three get some rest and we'll deal with that tomorrow?"

Pink nodded. "Sounds good! You also must be tired still! Go rest yourself!"

You nodded turning to leave the three behind as you slowly walked out. Blue starting up another crying fit as Pink took her share away from her hands. Orange remained silent in the same curled up position as before. F/c eyes gave her another look.. before turning away and leaving. You didn't think any of them heard the front door opening and closing shut again.

**************************

The lull of water is calm.

The movement of it's nature unpredictable.

The comfort of home made any dangers worth while.

The only thing needed was the ones surrounding the warm body. Keeping her safe and comforted against the unpredictable waters. A look up beheld a sight. Sunlight bedazzled from up above safely lighting up the cavern so deep below. A few jellyfish and fish lazily swimming by. A perfect meal for a quick breakfast. If she could move that was. The soft sand only held her weighed down body as a burlier one napped away by her left side with an arm thrown around her pulling her against his chest as two smaller figures were curled literally on top of them one snoring obnoxiously loud. Couldn't be helped she was the only one here that was awake ...But one of their pod was missing.

"Makio."

Her eyes looked up. A smile who's warmth could challenge the sun overshadowed any beautiful sights above her. Fuchsia eyes crinkled up in adoration at her own.

"Shh. Don't wake up anyone. I got a present for you."

"For me? Just me?"

"But of course! I spoil all my wives individually and this turn is yours. Look."

It was beautiful shining in the light. Golden strands holding up amber cut into small pieces and smoothed to perfection.

"I found this and was instantly reminded of you. Here. Try it on. It'll make your beautiful face all that much more flamboyant."

"Lord Tengen, it's beautiful. I-I don't know what to say."

A hand tilted the woman's face up to meet his eyes. "How about I love you? I love you, Makio.~"

THUD!!

A snort of bubbles escaped from her lungs floating up to the surface of the water. Where was she? It was cold and hard. Nothing like their seafloor home. A loud snore next to her brought her tired brain back to reality. Oh right. She was stuck in a random bath miles away from her home and sleeping on cold hard tiles instead of her soft home surrounded by her family..Well all of her family. She nudged her shoulder until the snoring ox that was her wife floated onto the bottom instead without waking. She swore she could sleep through a hurricane-

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Her eyes looked up at the surface of the water. Footsteps? At this time of night? Who'd be up in the middle of the night like this? Suspicions provoked curiosity which sparked actions as she rose up. Up, up, up. Pushing up from the surface to poke her head out-

"Good morning!" You smiled down at Orange holding a stack of clean towels you were going to place on the shelf. She blinked at you in surprise before you turned to place said towels back on the shelf. "I hope I didn't wake you up."

Orange blinked some more before yawning and reaching a wet hand up to wipe her eyes. "What are you doing up in the middle of the night?! Don't you humans get any sleep?"

"Actually I was asleep most of the night, and it's not 'in the middle of the night.' It's six in the morning. I just woke up and figured I should put all the laundry away. I'm done repairing you three's clothes by the way." You gestured to a pile of neatly folded dresses and a rather large bowl of apples near the edge of the pool. "I also brought you all something to eat. It's not much but it'll help fill you."

Her response was to just look at it blankly. "...Thanks."

You nodded and there was a moment of silence before you spoke again. "I'm sorry."

Her eyes blinked at you. "What?"

"I said I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you earlier. I mean you've been through a lot and I probably wasn't helping with your stress. So.." You made a motion with your hand. "Sorry about that."

"...It's fine." She muttered looking away again frowning. "Just forget that ever happened if it makes you feel better."

"This isn't about me. It's about how you all feel. Can't imagine how you all must feel but I think I have something that might cheer you up!"

Her brow rose. "I doubt that."

You smiled. "Oh I think it will considering if it's the right box."

Box? Her eyes snapped back up watching intently as you walked on over to the open doorway and stepped partially out leaning to the right of the doorframe. A metal jingling filled the air as you grunted and turned back around smiling. Orange's jaw dropped and her eyes nearly popped out of her skull as she stared at the box. Then at you. Then at the box. Then at you. Then she repeated the actions mouth opening and closing for a solid minute before finally coughing up one word.

"HOW?!"

Well it wasn't easy. You still mentally cursed yourself for being stupid enough to actually go back there in the middle of the NIGHT no less. You were EXTREMELY lucky you weren't caught the first time you were there! But you supposed you were foolish enough to sneak back through town and back to that barn. You were half hoping for the window to be locked this time since the door still was, but you were filled with dread when the window once again slipped open.

"Wasn't easy. Have you ever tried digging through a massive pile of hay with no light? And then trying to be sneaky with a giant jingling box? I'm honestly surprised that no one heard me fall out the window." Good thing you remembered to close it behind you.

"But-..I-.." Orange shook her head harder. "You didn't have to!!"

"I know but I wanted to and no offense but don't expect me to go crawling through anymore windows for you guys. It's a pain in the neck." You plopped down the box onto the floor which made a loud jingling noise.

Orange didn't say anything. Only stared wide eyed at the box before reaching out shaking hands and pulling it towards her. It was an old box, starting to rot away but still too hard for you to break in. A rusty metal latch was on the front and an old lock kept it from opening. You had tried to pick the lock and pull it off to no avail. You smiled watching Orange shake the box which jingled. You guessed you got the right bo-

SPLASH!!

Orange blinked. One minute you were standing there, and then the next minute you were gone. What the-?

"She's hurt!!"

Her head turned. You spat out a stream of water completely soaked from being yanked into the water, and was being death hugged by a sniveling, crying mermaid.

"Good morning to you, Blue," you deadpanned looking at Orange who seemed just as surprised as you were.

"Hey! What's the big idea?!"

"AAAAHHH. She's gonna ddiiiieeee!!" Blue wailed planting her head on your shoulder.

"I'm not dying!" "She's not gonna die you loudmouthed bass!" You both yelled out.

All the commotion must've woke up Pink because a moment later she took popped up. "What is going on here?!" ..She blinked seeing you deadpanned patting the sobbing mermaid's shoulder. "What happened?"

"She's gonna die! WWAAAAHHH!!"

Orange groaned again. "Oh for the love of- SHE'S NOT DYING SNAIL FOR BRAINS!!"

"BUT SHE'S BLEEDING!!" You yelped and shouted out as Blue without a problem forced one of your hands into the air revealing the red stained bandage wrapped around it. She was a lot stronger than she looked!

The other two stared in stunned silence before Pink grabbed your arm and with more surprising strength pulled you towards her looking at your hand in horror. "What happened?"

"I tried to pick the lock using the top of one of my knives. My hands slipped and I ended up cutting myself. I'm fine." You tugged on your arm but it was like you were held by pure concrete. "I swear it's fine! It's not even that deep. I'm just mad I couldn't get the stupid box open."

Pink looked up. Uh oh- "Box?" Her head snapped to Orange and stared at the old box in her hands. Before her anger snapped to you. Double uh oh- "What is THAT doing here?!" She demanded to you. "I thought I told you to forget about it!"

"You did."

"And you went back putting yourself in danger!"

"Yeah. That one's on me I admit."

"Then why did you?"

"Because I wanted to," you answered honestly, "And it wasn't fair to leave behind something so important to you guys. Sorry I couldn't get it open. I tried everything I co-"

C R A C K!!

You three looked over and was stunned by Orange literally ripping the top right off of the box, nail and all.

"You know what? That works too."

Y'know you knew these three were really pretty. Obviously they were a lot prettier than most of the women you've met in your small town. You guessed that's normal for mermaids. But you weren't expecting to see just how beautiful they really were.

"Come on and get get out of there." You motioned for them to get out after you had wrestled yourself out of Blue's grip with Orange's help and crawled out of the tub to get changed. This was the second time you had gotten soaked because of these Three. "I have a rinse out the bath and clean the place today. You guys got water everywhere."

On second thought you'd clean up the floors first and then rinse the tub after. The three sure were curious watching you mip the tiled floors before motioning for them to crawl themselves out of there. You watched as the three of them used their arms to pull themselves out of the water, and you finally saw their tails. Well you've seen them before but you either only saw them briefly, they were covered in dirt, or you weren't really paying attention because of other factors. But as you ran the water to rinse out the tub to fill it up again for them but you happened to look up during that time and paused. Your jaw dropped. Eyes going wide. Holy cow!

They were all absolutely beautiful!

They're tails looked so pretty! Colorful, vibrant, and absolutely GLOWING in the light as the three absolutely frenzied upon the box in a similar fashion to how they dove upon every meal you've given them. You never got a chance to see what was inside but watched in awe as a small pile of jewelry piled onto the floor. ..And you did mean small. For such a big box, there was only a few pieces that can tumbling out. A few necklaces, bracelets, and one long golden strand of studded blue sapphires. Each took to them like dogs to prime steak. Each of them slapping the dazzling accessories onto each other. But you weren't paying too much attention to the jewelry.

You were too busy admiring the beautiful mermaids.

Each one has a tail that matched their eyes. Pink's was red where her waist met her scales but quickly faded to a pretty magenta pink with a semi spotted pattern along her fins. Orange didn't really have an orange tail, but her scales shines so golden that you were sure that it was made of actual gold for a second. Blue's was pretty plain at first compared to the fanciness of the others, but her fins were much much longer and ruffled up big and large. It reminded you of very fancy fabric. The three were finished changing back into their original clothes (your poor dresses left in a wet soggy pile on the floor) and they were all practically beaming to the nines decked out back in their belongings. Smiling and happy.

They were very beautiful. No wonder sailors always warned others about their dangerous allure.

You shook you head. "Alright. The tub should be back full in a minute." The three looked up at you. "Then you all can get back in. I'll get you all some food too. You all seem a little thin."

That wasn't good. You'd noticed that the three of them seemed to be a little bit thin probably from the fact that they hadn't been treated well. You wanted to be sure that they were in good health before you freed them, if anything bad happened...You didn't want to think about that. They could stay for a little while longer and recover a bit more. You'd have to increase the size of their meals but you also didn't want to have them here for too long.. You'd let them stay for the rest of this month and next month and increase the amount of food you gave them. They seemed to like protein and meat based foods, so you'd have to put an increase in those above fruits and vegetables. Sigh..This wasn't going to be easy.

"Hm?" You blinked as a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you to sit down- More like trip to until you fell sideways onto your bottom and was then dragged over to sit in the middle of the three. "Hey!"

"THANK YOU SO MUUUUUUCH!!"

Not surprising that Blue was sobbing and hugging one of your arms again as Orange forced your injured palm into her own hands tearing up the bandages to look at it. You decided to not fight this time and allow the two to satisfy their need for touch.

"It's fine. Really. I'm just happy you're happy, Blue."

"*sniffle*...Blue?" Blue finally pulled away to look at you in question. Her body had quite a few golden bracelets along her arms, and a necklace of tiny shells sat neatly over her shoulders. But what must've been the most prominent piece of jewelry was a rather large gold chain with sapphires embedded into it. It was so long she had to wrap it around her waist multiple times like a belt.

You shrugged as Orange scowled at the not so deep cut on your palm. "Well I don't know your name. I've just kinda been calling you all by your eye color. It'd be rude and confusing to just call you three 'Mermaid' all the time."

"That's right." You turned to Pink who smiled at you, she was now adorned in a silver choker studded with shiny red rubies. A matching pair of ruby earrings dangled from her ears as her head tilted. She also wore a few silver bracelets although not as many as Blue. Her hand placed itself on her chest. "My name is Hinatsuru. Hinatsuru Uzui." She then pointed at Blue. "This is Suma Uzui, and that's Makio Uzui."

She gestured to Orange who was busy rubbing a sleeve of one of your wet dresses on your palm to 'clean' it (nevermind you had ALREADY cleaned it this morning before bandaging it). Orange-..Makio as she was called, wore the most gold jewelry. A necklace shaped In a triangle on her chest studded with...Amber? You thought those pretty stones were amber. A few things gold chains wrapped around her tail almost blending in with her gold scales, and you thought you spotted a pair of golden hoop earrings behind her bangs.

"My name's Y/n. Y/n L/n."

Uzui huh? They all had the same last name. Did that mean they were related? You looked at them all again. They.. didn't exactly look alike. All had different eye colors, very different tails, and their facial features all had slight differences. We're they sisters? Cousins maybe? They all had the same colored hair minus Makio's golden bangs and they all looked around the same age. So maybe???

"Are you three sisters?" You asked curiously.

Hinatsuru blinked a moment before smiling again. "Oh no! Not at all. We're wives!"

...You blinked. Taking a moment to process what you heard. "Wait. Wives? As in...you three are married?" You gestured the hand Makio wasn't still looking over at the three of them. "To each other?"

"Well its not just us! Our husbands are probably worried sick about us by now."

You stared at her wider. "Husbands?! As in..Two of them?!"

"Yes! You'd like them! They're both so doting!"

Your mouth only opened up in shocked disbelief-

RRRRRRIIIIIPPPPP!!

Your gaze snapped back to Makio who ripped a long strand of fabric out of your wet dress with her fangs before proceeding to wrap said wet strand around your palm.

"....My dress."

21 notes · View notes

seongminiz · 2 months

Note

hello my luv!! ngl i was laughing my ass off when i found out seongmin had beat taeyoung’s horse cock allegations😭😭 but like picture this.. you’re taeyoung’s best friend who came along that exact video and decided to tease him over it when he came for movie night.

“better shut your mouth before i shove it in to shut it for you”

also would it be alright if i could become 🫙 anon? much love to youu🤍🤍🤍

(not me turning this into a whole ass fic help)(n ofc u can be 🫙 anon !!)

review : ★★☆☆☆ , not that big tbh

minors dni ; ~1.7k words

warnings not proof read its like 3am i'll fix this in the morning , dom taeyoung , bratty reader , rlly lighthearted unserious n kinda fluffy , oral (m rec) , unprotected sex :3 (its not a jo seongminiz fic without it tbh) , creampie , big dick taeyoung :') , bulge kink n a little of size kink ig ? idk taeyoung refers to reader as tiny in one instance , liiittle bit of dumbification , i used the words cock n dick so much in this they dont even feel like real words anymore send help , some of the dialog is kinda cringe sawrry abt that , the whole smut part is cringe tbh im going to set myself on fire how am i a smut writer that doesn't know how to write smut

note no bc the way they were talking abt cock n balls on national television like CAN WE HAVE SOME DECORUM PLS anyways ! THE WRITERS BLOCK HAS BEEN CURED Y'ALL cant believe it took taeyoung having a small dick to fix this i love ur brain anon bc like .. YES . i can picture this so well . n i am NAWT letting the taeyoung monster cock agenda go no matter what seongmin says ik hes lyingggg

deep down u know what seongmin said was nothing more than a joke with barely any truth to it. it's not like you're unfamiliar with taeyoung's size, having your fair experience of accidentally rubbing ur ass against him while you were cuddling one too many times and causing some awfully awkward accidents because of it.

still, teasing taeyoung is wayyy more fun than acknowledging any of that. and for once, actually grinding down on him to get a reaction while you're cuddled up on your couch, watching a shitty movie you picked randomly, is fun too.

you can clearly feel taeyoung's bulge growing, just as you can feel him trying to move behind you to make it a little better (and ultimately making it worse each time), and you can hear the way his breath gets heavier by the minute, trying to stifle a few whines here and there you want to hear more of so badly.

when you 'innocently' grind against him once more under the pretense of stretching, taeyoung's last weak bit of restraint is gone. he groans, a hand firmly gripping your hips to hold you in place and finally stop your cruel shenanigans.

'can you stop that?' taeyoung asks, voice strained. 'stop what?' you look behind you and up at him, eyes wide in the fakest innocent expression you can come up with.

'you know what i'm talking about, you're...' he sits up, finally freeing himself from the close contact with you and quickly grabbing a pillow to hide his boner. you smirk to yourself, shaking your head as you sit up too. 'you're making me hard...' he finally says, lowering his voice so you can barely hear him over the movie playing.

'oh!' your expressions shifts to one of even faker concern, pouting a little. 'sorry about that. i didn't really feel anything, though, that's why i didn't notice...' you both know your explanation is bullshit. taeyoung knows that, he's sure of it even as you whisper something along the lines of 'i guess seongmin was right about it not being that big.'

still, he somehow finds himself trying to desperately defend his pride, barely managing to stutter out something about seongmin being a liar and how you both know you're just playing along with that whole bit for shits and giggles.

'am i?' you tilt your head to the side, keeping up your act as well as you can until the inevitable happens. 'you know, i've never really seen it, so how would i know? i guess until i do, i'll just have to trust seongmin on his word...'

for the first time that night, taeyoung actually laughs. 'if you wanted to see my dick that bad, you should've just asked,' he moves the pillow away, and you can finally shamelessly stare at his very obvious bulge as much as you want. taeyoung takes his sweet time with it , undoing the strings of his sweatpants and hooking his thumbs in the waistband before looking up at you, taking in your shocked expression and the way you're basically hypnotized by the sight of his still clothed cock.

because holy shit. you knew seongmin was just messing with him when he made that joke, you knew he was somewhat big, but this?

'this is a fucking monster cock what the fuck?'

the words leave your mouth before you can properly process them and, at the same time, with a quick motion taeyoung gets rid of both his sweatpants and boxers at once, finally snapping you out of your dick-induced trance.

just to have you plummet into an even worse one, probably. because not only is taeyoung's dick enormous, it also looks pretty as fuck.

'told you so,' he simply says, one of his hands gently lifting your chin so you can face him, his demeanor suddenly more serious. 'you're still okay with this, right?'

'of course,' you manage to say, breaking the heavy eye contact for a split second to steal yet another glance at taeyoung's dick. despite your voice shaking, and your actions not matching your words, you try to once again keep up that same act that brought you exactly where you are right now. 'plus, i was right, it's not even that big.'

'oh, really?' taeyoung's hand leaves your face and slides down to your shoulder, a silent command you follow with no objections, sliding off the couch and to your knees on the cold floor beneath you, right between his legs.

and face to face with his cock.

'let's hope it's at least big enough to shut you up, then,' taeyoung runs his hand through your hair, firmly gripping it 'maybe you'll be able to put your moth to good use for once.'

at that moment, you genuinely wish taeyoung was smaller. because no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to be able to take all of him in your mouth, using your hand to cover the part you can't reach.

truth is, taeyoung isn't as relaxed as he would want to be either. the simple fact you can't take all of him is enough to rile him up even more, fighting the urge to just take charge and fuck your mouth like he really wants to.

'so much for it not being that big, huh?' his words come out weak, broken by small moans and whimpers in between them.

of course you don't- you can't reply to taeyoung's taunts, at least verbally, so you opt for trying to take him deeper. the action makes you gag, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. taeyoung almost cums right then and there, his resolve slowly crumbling and breaking down as he pulls you off of him.

after all, he has greater plans than just cumming down your throat. and if the way you whimper and rub your thighs together once he leaves your mouth empty is anything to go by, you do too.

taeyoung gently helps you up and back on the couch. his lips are immediately on yours, pulling you into a heated makeout as he gets rid of your shorts and underwear, sliding one hand between your legs to be met with your soaked cunt. you whine into the kiss, pulling away from him and grabbing on his wrist.

'don't tease me,' you complain. taeyoung wants to laugh at you. after all you've done and said, you are the one who doesn't want to be teased? if that's what you want, though...

'right, you said it's not that big anyways, you should be able to take it right away, no?'

or maybe you can't, but at this moment you'd rather die impaled on your best friend's cock than admit you were wrong, even when all the evidence - especially your own lived one - points to your defeat.

what taeyoung didn't expect you to do was actually agree. you desperately nod, hand still wrapped around his wrist 'i can take it, please.'

you definitely can't.

that's what you realize as taeyoung starts to push the head of his cock inside you and your eyes immediately fill with tears.

'fuck... you're so-'

'i'm not the problem here, you're just fucking big.' you cut him off. your head is spinning and, despite the pain, you can't deny how good you actually feel. how full you are, even as you look down and realize he's barely halfway inside of you.

you close your eyes, squeezing taeyoungs's hand. when did you even start holding it? you don't remember, probably somewhere between when you yelled at him to 'fucking slow down' and when you threatened to 'cut your dick off if you dare to cum before you're all the way in'.

luckily for taeyoung, your threats will have to wait and his cock - a national treasure at this point - will live to see another day.

now that he's fully buried inside your cunt, you can finally adjust to his size, slowly relaxing until it doesn't hurt (that much) anymore. 'you can move,' you say after a while, your hips bucking up in encouragement as taeyoungs's grip on your sides tightens.

'fucking finally, i thought i was going to die before i got to properly fuck you,' his joke and your laugh to it are short lived, cut off by the both of you moaning in unison as he starts picking up his face.

you're so overwhelmed, you can feel taeyoung everywhere inside you, so deep you're pretty sure you should be dead at this point. you're grateful you're not, though, you're pretty sure if you were you wouldn't be able to feel the way the tip of his cock relentlessly bullies your sweet spot, paired with his fingers right on your clit and...

'fuck look at this,' you whine when the stimulation on your clit subsides, but your disappointment doesn't last long, taeyoung places that same hand on your lower stomach, pressing on the very evident bulge formed by taeyoungs's cock ramming inside you.

'but it's not that big right? fuck... maybe you're right, i might not be that big, maybe you're just too tiny for me.'

you moan at taeyoung's words, too far gone to properly process them as you mindlessly nod. 'aw, did i fuck you too dumb? can't think properly when i'm fucking you this good?' he coos at you, and you can't do anything but nod again.

'so full... going to cum,' you can barely speak before you're clenching down even more on his cock, cumming with no further warning.

if taeyoung wasn't about to cum before, he definitely is now, his hips picking up the pace even more as he helps you ride through your high and starts to overstimulate you chasing his own.

his dick twitches inside of you, and you swear you couldn't almost cum again just from that, as his hips stutter and finally slow down, his cum filling you up.

you're both panting, trying to recover from probably the most mind blowing highs of your life.

when you make eye contact with taeyoung, he starts laughing again.

'what?' you ask.

'so? did i change your mind?'

you shrug, suppressing your own laugh 'eh, not really... it wasn't that big to be honest'

:3 thats it bye omg shitty ending everybody say thank u jo seongminiz

#🍰 seongminiz !#🧇 crvt !#💭 . 🫙 anon !#cravity hard hours #cravity smut #taeyoung smut #taeyoung hard hours

29 notes · View notes

adrift-in-thyme · 9 months

Note

Not sure if you keep taking prompts, but if you do:

Boys visiting Malanya? You can make it really angsty if you know what I mean but it's optional.

Thanks for the prompt!! <33 I put all my Malanya headcanons in here lol. I hope you enjoy it!

Fic beneath the cut (also on Ao3)

Cw for animal injury

—————————-

Twilight bites out a curse. “Ilia’s gonna kill me.”

His fingers ghost Epona’s leg, following the trail of her wound. The gash is deep and jagged, an angry line of crimson.

“How bad is it?” Wild asks from just behind him. Twilight can feel his eyes upon him — his and those of the other heroes. All watching, all waiting to hear the damage.

Twilight chews his lip. “It’s bad.”

Lizalfos are not beasts to be trifled with, especially those with The Shadow’s blood in their veins. And the one that had sliced Epona’s leg had seen fit to make that fact even more clear.

He had cut it down seconds later, but the deed was already done, the injury carved in a river of red upon his loyal steed.

Epona whinnies mournfully and he looks up at her.

I’m sorry, girl.

“We’re out of fairies.” It’s Warriors now, all business despite the blood trickling down his side, and the way he leans against Time’s arm, just a bit too heavily to raise suspicions.

“Potions too,” Legend chimes in, voice hoarse and lacking its usual sharpness.

They have all come away from this latest battle worse for wear. Alive, yes, but wounded and exhausted. It was a surprise attack and a large one at that. Fighting it back had taken more energy and resources than they had had available.

Twilight closes his eyes for a moment and inhales through his nose. They’re in desperate need of healing. But with Hyrule injured as well, he can’t possibly ask him to tend to any of their little party…not even Epona. The traveler is hardly standing as it is.

“We need a Great Fairy,” Time pipes up. He turns to Wild. “Are there any near here?”

The champion thinks for a moment.

“No Great Fairies. But…there is someone similar.” He points to where a path winds between the mountains. “They’re not far from here. Just down that trail.”

A spark of hope alights within Twilight and he grasps it for dear life. “They’ll heal Epona?”

“And us?” Wind asks.

“I can’t promise they’ll heal us, but Epona?” A small grin tugs at Wild’s lips. “Definitely. They’re the Horse God, after all.”

Legend raises his eyebrows. “The Horse God?”

“Yup. The patron God of Horses. They protect them, heal them, and” —Wild swallows and averts his eyes slightly— “Sometimes they revive them. Anyway, their name’s Malanya.”

“Malanya.” Time says the name slowly, letting it roll over his tongue. “That’s an interesting name.”

There’s something strange in his voice, but Twilight doesn’t have time to unpack all that at the moment.

“Take us to them, cub,” he says, rising. He runs a hand over Epona’s muzzle and grasps her reins. “Epona can make it, right girl?”

She bumps her nose against his head in reply, warm breath blowing through his hair. A small smile sneaks onto his face.

You’re gonna be alright, Epona, he promises both her and himself. We’ll get you fixed up. Just hang on a little longer.

True to Wild’s words, the journey is a short one. But between Epona’s injuries and their own, Twilight feels like it’s drawn out into eternity. Every step is agony, every movement another chance for his steed to crumple or someone to collapse.

The monsters they meet along the way do little to help matters. Wild is quick to draw his bow, however, and he takes them out in no time. Still, it seems a miracle when at last the fountain comes into sight.

The heroes come to a halt right before the large flower bud.

“It looks like a fairy fountain,” Hyrule says, frowning. “But the magic feels different.”

Wild grins. “Oh, it’s much different than a fairy fountain, believe me. Now, you guys wait here. I just need a minute to wake them up.”

Epona lets out a small whinny and Twilight rubs her shoulder.

You did it, girl. You made it.

He watches as Wild walks onto one of the large flower petals and stands, hands on hips, waiting. For a moment everything remains the same. Fairy dust floats, and butterflies flit, and silence reigns in the clearing. Then, there’s a sound of rumbling thunder and suddenly the water in the fountain flies into the air, raining down in shimmery droplets upon the group. And from within its sparkling torrents, something large and colorful erupts.

Twilight cranes his neck, following the being as it rises higher and higher. It towers over the heroes, a strange form with the head of a horse and disembodied hands that wave to and fro. Part of him wants to be afraid, but…

He steps closer, tilting his head. There’s something interesting about this deity, something that almost draws him to them. Yet, he can’t decide what.

“Oh, it’s you again,” Malanya says, lilting tone echoing throughout the space. Their voice brings to mind the feel of riding across the plains of Hyrule, the wind in his hair, and the smell of fresh rain and spring grass in his nostrils. “Why have you come to visit? Please, do not tell me something dire has befallen another of your loyal steeds.”

Wild clears his throat. “Well, no one died this time, if that helps you feel better. But Epona” —he steps aside so the horse is in full view— “she’s hurt.”

“As are we,” Warriors pipes up from behind. “So, if you would be so kind…”

Malanya isn’t listening to him, however. They rise impossibly higher, water droplets raining from their adornments. In the next second, they’re leaning forward, trembling fingers reaching for the champion. The heroes step forward, hands flying to their weapons, bodies tensed and ready.

“You test my patience, boy!” Malanya says, and their voice booms now. “Anyone who mistreats their horses so shall feel my wrath!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Twilight sees Time go abruptly still. He shifts slightly, battle stance relaxing just a bit. And when the deity suddenly bursts out into hearty laughter, a strange expression comes onto his face.

“Come now, sheath your weapons.” A hand waves dismissively, their tone what Twilight thinks is meant to be reassuring. “I only jest.”

“We both know you’re not joking.”

It’s Time’s voice now, clear and strong, yet oddly tentative. But when the deity turns to him in a whirl of color and water, he doesn’t budge.

“What did you say?”

A smirk plays on his lips despite the strained situation.

“I said we both know you’re not joking.”

There’s a beat of silence in which the other heroes look between their unofficial leader and the deity, breath held in anticipation. And then something seems to shift in the air, a tension lifted, and Malanya laughs once more.

“You have heart, my dear hero. But, really, who asked you?”

For a split second, something like a smile enters the deity’s pupil-less eyes. It’s gone as soon as it comes, however. With another dismissive wave of a hand, they turn back to Wild.

“I sense no foul play nor evil intentions in any of you…though” —A quick glance at Time– “some among you are filled with mischief. I will heal your loyal steed, and—just this once—your own wounds.”

Malanya lifts their hands, as though preparing to conduct a concert, then sweeps their delicate fingers down and over the heroes. Twilight finds his eyes slipping closed as a breeze washes over him, born upon the wings of fairy-blessed water. Pain he hadn’t even truly registered enduring disappears like a weight leaving his shoulders. And when he opens his eyes once more he can see similar relief displayed on his brothers’ faces.

Ducking down, Twilight runs a gentle hand over the sides of Epona’s leg. But rather than the edges of a gash, his fingers brush unmarred flesh coated in a healthy layer of auburn hair.

She nickers as he rises, already nosing at his forehead, and he allows himself a smile.

“Your friendship with your horse is a strong one.” Malanya’s voice reaches him and he turns to meet their eyes. “It is a precious thing, to share such a connection with the noblest of animals. Remember that it is a two-way road. Your steed trusts you to keep her safe.”

Twilight nods, somberly. Guilt still tugs at him like a leaden weight. Too many times, he has allowed Epona to suffer. Too many times, he has failed to protect her.

I’m so sorry.

Epona nudges him, gently, and the deity chuckles.

“Your horse wishes you to know that she understands…and that all is forgiven.”

A wavering grin tugs at his lips. Twilight presses his forehead to Epona’s for a moment, then drags his gaze back to the deity.

“Thank you.”

They nod. “Now, go, continue your adventure.” Abruptly, they turn to Wild. “I hope to not see you again for a long while.”

“Rude,” Wild grumbles as he hops down from the petal and comes to stand by Twilight’s side.

Twilight pats him on the shoulder, both a comfort and a thanks. Then, he prepares to follow the other heroes as they file back onto the road.

Time lingers, however, the same odd look on his face. And when Twilight pauses to reach out to him, he realizes it is one of pain.

“You coming, old man?” he asks, gently, placing a hand on his mentor’s arm.

Time doesn’t meet his eyes. Instead, he looks upward to where Malanya still looms over them, gazing down at him almost expectedly.

Strange that they stayed, given how Wild claims the gods and fairies always retreat into their buds as soon as their jobs are complete.

“Before we go, I must know,” he says, and there is something in his voice Twilight seldom hears. A vulnerability reserved for moments of anguish or great joy, of bonding with his brothers or embracing Malon. "Are you…her?”

The smile enters the deity’s eyes once more, though this time there is sorrow in it.

“I was once, though only in spirit. So long as you were not at rest, neither could she be. Hence, she asked the gods for this fate, and they bestowed it upon her.”

Twilight watches Time’s face, trepidation rising fast within him. But the old man’s expression has turned steely and he can decipher nothing past the steadfast walls he has erected.

“She is gone now, however,” Malanya continues, gently. “Her spirit has faded, or perhaps merely been set free. And though parts of her remain with me to this day, I am no longer the Malon you know and love. I am merely myself – Malanya, protector, and patron God of Horses. Nothing more, and certainly nothing less.”

For a long moment, silence hangs heavy. Then, right when Twilight is certain they will all be smothered beneath it, Time steps back and nods.

“Thank you,” he says, tone clipped, professional.

He is no longer Link, now. No, that barrier is back, the one even Twilight struggles to bypass, and he is the Hero of Time once more.

“We greatly appreciate all that you have done. Farewell.”

If he mourns his wife as he turns away, if he ponders the mysteries behind Malanya’s words as he begins to walk, he gives no indication. But Twilight can hear it on the breeze as they start along the path, a whisper, a cry.

“Farewell, my love. Farewell.”

And when a tear trickles down Time’s cheek, he sees it.

Even so, Twilight would never dream of saying a word.

98 notes · View notes

mosneakers · 8 months

Text

As planned, Coraleye and Tycho spend their last night of their trip riding horseback, with Oddball and Peachy Dream guiding them through the rolling hills of Chestnut Ridge.

Though undeniably romantic, the air is thick with an undercurrent of melancholia. Not only is tonight is their last night this quaint little town they've lovingly called home during their stay, but Tycho also struggles with the weight of the guilt and secrets he reluctantly harbors from her. All he can hope for now, is that she doesn't pick up on this tension.

The sun begins to set, and a few fireworks can be heard blasting off in the distance marking the celebrations of the night. Oddball appears a little skittish, but he looks to Peachy Dream to set his nerves at ease. Coraleye: Remember last 4th of Summer? We've come a long way since then, haven't we darling?

Tycho: Ugh, how can I forget? I'm ashamed of how consumed with jealousy I was back then. But jealousy aside, it was a beautiful night. I remember wanting you so badly. Coraleye: [Slight smile] Well, now you have me. Tycho: [Affectionate sigh] Now I have you.

Coraleye possibly interprets his sigh in the wrong way, but takes his inflection in jest as a small mischievous grin forms over her lips.

Coraleye: [sarcastically] Wow, don't sound TOO terribly excited about it... [Canters off with Peachy Dream to find another spot]

Tycho: Wait! Slow down! Tycho guides Oddball to follow, but he's already doing so without direction, trailing Peachy Dream's every move.

Tycho: Really! I am excited. Beyond excited... I'm... bewildered! Coraleye: [Laughs] Bewildered!

Tycho: Yes, absolutely. I question how I got so lucky every day, Cor. And honestly... [Takes a deep breath] it makes me a little sad, because I can say with almost perfect certainty that I won't be so lucky to celebrate next year with you.

Coraleye: [Confused chuckle] What? That's silly, why would you say something like that? Are you planning on breaking up with me or something? Tycho: What? No, never! I just... I guess you and I have a unique relationship, that doesn't seem logically sustainable, and everyday I feel like I'm waiting to lose you. And yes, it's my fault, but still.

Coraleye doesn't respond. Tycho panics for a split second but then realizes she must be under the assumption he's referring to her unique requirements for marriage, and how he doesn't qualify.

Finally she looks at him and flashes a smile. Her hair billows in the wind and the fireworks erupt behind her, like a perfect dazzling backdrop for a potential final goodbye.

Coraleye: Stop thinking about the future. Maybe you're right. Maybe something horrible will happen between us and our worlds will come crashing down around us. That's kinda how these things go, anyway. But if there's nothing that can be done about it, and we're sure about that- let's just enjoy each other like we'll go on forever. Because I know our love will anyway.

Tycho is quiet for a moment. He feels his stomach flip, but then nods in agreement. Tycho: Damn, I just want to kiss you so bad right now, but we're on these horses. Coraleye: Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy, babe. [beckons Tycho with finger gesture]

While still mounted on horseback, Tycho leans in to kiss Coraleye, and nearly falls off his horse.

Coraleye: Oop! Careful, clumsy. [Laughter]

Tycho: I hope you're trying to kill me. Coraleye: You're not that lucky, my love.

#ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #MD4 #ts4 story #The sim 4 #Coraleye Darling #ts4 gameplay #Tycho Curious #ts4 Horse Ranch #MD4season10 #Curious Family Reunion #Oddball & Peachy Dream

48 notes · View notes

noforkingclue · 20 days

Note

Bestieeeee! I want to answer your call for nsfw requests and you just told me some of the prompts on the lists you shared had given you River Cartwright Thots 🤭

So, I’m not here to request a prompt of my choice, I want you to pick your favourite and just give yourself permission to go nuts with it. I cannot wait to read what you create for our boy!

My only request would be that you lean into that car scene dom energy cos daaaamn 🥵

Have fun! xx

Mate, giving me free reign was a very bad idea and I had to limit myself to a max of two prompts even though more were calling to me!

I had way too much fun with this and I hope you like it :D

Title: Beg

Slow Horses tag list: @cillmequick

Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.

I told you, you would eventually start begging.

Warnings: NSFW

Prompt list: link

You drummed your fingers against the bar and looked down at your empty glass. You tried to get the bartender's attention but he was occupied elsewhere. You gritted your teeth in annoyance and you took a deep breath to try and calm down. It had been a rough week and all you wanted was some strong drinks and to relax.

“Long time no see.”

You stiffened at the familiar voice. Your hand clenched around your glass and you looked around for a way to escape but the bar was too crowded. River pressed his body against yours, trapping you against the bar. With how busy it was it could easily be seen as a harmless action. Too many people in too small of a space, people were bound to end up squeezed together. However, you knew River better than that.

“What do you want?” You asked

“You’ve been avoiding me,” River said quietly, leaning down to brush his lips against your ear

“Can you blame me?”

“You left in the middle of the night.”

“You’ve done that before. Besides, I had an early start.”

“You also left The Service.”

“How did you find that out?”

“I have my ways. I just want you to confirm it.”

“That’s… correct.”

“Where are you working now?”

“You don’t have clearance for that.”

“Ah,” you could hear the smile in River’s voice, “Six.”

Fuck.

Luckily you were distracted by the bartender finally coming over to you and taking your order. You took a large swig of your drink, hoping that it would distract you from River. You had no such luck.

“And here I thought you’d be buying me a drink.” Said River

“Would it get rid of you?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“You weren’t always so… hostile to my attention.”

“Things change.”

“Not that much. You going home with anyone?”

“Is that any of your business?”

Rivers lips trailed against your neck. You swallowed thickly at the sensation, resisting the urge to lean back against him. You could feel River smirk against your neck.

Bastard.

“I’ll be outside,” he said, “ten minutes. Don’t make me come in and find you.”

You didn’t know you had been holding your breath until River had left. You glared at the door before turning your attention back to your drink. You aren’t going to let him win. Not this time. No. You are going to savour this drink and then the next and then the next one after that.

Fuck River Cartwright.

But not literally.

You didn’t know what time it was when you finally left the bar. You were pleasantly buzzed but not as drunk as you would’ve liked to have been. You still wanted to keep your wits about you after running into River. You glanced around but could see River or his car. Then again things aren’t always what they seemed. River, the bastard, had genuinely been good at tracking people.

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves and you finally began your walk home. You kept mainly to the shadows, glancing over your shoulder every so often. Your keys were held firmly between your fingers. It wasn’t a long walk back to your flat but you were still expecting River to pop out at any moment. You let out a sigh of relief when you finally saw your building. When you were finally in the safety of your flat you rested your head against the door.

Finally.

Now you could get some well deserved sleep and forget about your run in with Cartwright.

A creak behind you had your eyes fly open. You tried to turn around but your intruder was quicker. You were pressed, chest first, against your door. Strong hands gripped your wrists and pushed them beside your head.

“I thought I told you ten minutes.” Said River

“And I thought I made it perfectly clear that wasn’t going to happen.”

You let out a yelp as you were suddenly turned around. River pinned your body against the door with his, his grip still firmly around your wrists. You glared up at him, determined not to let him win this battle. River’s expression was giving nothing away but you could tell from his body that he was just as turned on as you.

“Been awhile then, Cartwright?” You asked teasingly

River didn’t take the bait. His lips grazed against your and you tried to pull away. However, you weren’t able to get anywhere with the door blocking your escape. You let out a whine of frustration and River let out a breathy laugh at the sound. He moved both of your wrists to one hand and the other trailing up your thigh. You cursed yourself for wearing a short dress as his fingers skimmed against your underwear.

“Very fucking funny,” he said, “but from what it feels like it seems that you’re the one desperate for me.”

You let out a choked gasp as two fingers roughly entered you. Your head fell against his chest and River let go out your wrists. Your arms fell limply over his shoulders and you said weakly,

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not.”

“Because,” you bit your lip to stifle a loan, “if Lamb found out-“

“Y/n,” River interrupted, “right now Lamb is the last person I want to think about.”

Your hips bucked against his hand as his thumb swirled against your clit. River's other hand grasped your chin and forced you to look up at him.

“You want this.” He said

“River…”

“Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why? Because I’m a slow horse and you’re now Six?”

“Because-“

Another moan cut you off. Your hands curled against River’s shirt and you tried to glare up at him. You hated how vulnerable he made you feel. River just raised his eyebrows.

“Tell me you need this,” he said, “tell me.”

His fingers stopped moving and you let out a frustrated moan. You tried to move your hips but any movement you made just made River pull out his fingers.

“No,” he said, “I need to hear you say it y/n. Tell me to continue. Tell me you need me.”

“River,” you bucked your hips once more, “continue.”

“Then beg.”

“Wh… what?”

“Beg,” River nipped at your neck, “I want to hear you beg.”

“Never.”

“Never?”

“Going deaf, Cartwright.”

“Hmm,” River looked you up and down, “that’ll change.”

“Unlikely.”

You let out a yelp as River lifted you into his arms. You flung your arms around his neck, uncertain about if he’d drop you or not (he had done so in the past and you hadn’t let him forget about it). River just looked down at you before pressing his lips against yours. You tangled your fingers in his hair as you kicked off your heels. You heard them clatter away but you didn’t care. When River finally broke the kiss the two of you were panting for air.

“Just like old times.” Said river

“Yeah.”

“I’ve missed you.”

“I can tell.”

River carried you to your bedroom, depositing you in your bed. You had just propped yourself up in your elbows when River pinned you down. He looked down at you and said,

“One last chance.”

“I’m not going to beg.”

“I won’t go easy on you. Beg and I will.”

“Never.”

River gave you one last almost pitying look (that you had the sudden urge to smack off his face) before pressing his lips roughly against yours. Your moans were swallowed by his lips and tried to pull your wrists free. However, River gave them a warning squeeze.

“I warned you,” he said against your lips, “unless you want to give in.”

“Not fucking likely.”

“Good.”

Finally River let go of your wrists. You wrapped them around his shoulders and tried to pull him down for another kiss but he just gave you a warning look. He trailed feather light touches up your thighs before he finally reached your underwear. He sat back and pulled them off, tossing them over his shoulder.

“Still so beautiful,” he said kneeling down and pressing his cheek against your thigh, “so fucking beautiful and all for me.”

He blew on you and you gasped, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“River…”

“Hmm?”

He bit the inside of your thigh and inserted his index and middle finger. He looked and winked at you as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out. Achingly slow and not enough friction to give you the release you so desperately needed.

“Love,” that damned name that turned your insides to fucking jelly, “you know what you need to do.”

“River…” your voice had a pleading edge that you hated and River was the only one able to pull from you

“Say it,” River’s fingers stopped moving, “I need to hear you say it.”

“Please.”

“Please?”

“Please fuck me. I…”

“Yes.” River’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper

“I need it. I need you.”

River let out a groan and he removed his fingers. You cried out at the loss of feeling full and narrowed your eyes and River who just licked his fingers. Fuck, that shouldn’t have been so hot. He sat back and hurriedly pulled off his shirt. You sat up and practically yanked off your dress, tossing it to the side, not caring where it landed. You laid back down, wishing that River would hurry the fuck up. There was a rustling of clothes and you groaned as you felt him press against you.

“Everything still ok?” he muttered against your lips

“Yes.”

“You still want this?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Good,” he pressed his forehead against yours, “good.”

You gasped when River finally entered you. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails into his back. River moaned at the sensation, his thrusts briefly stopping for a moment.

“Fuck,” he gasped, “y/n…”

“River.”

You buried your face against his shoulder.

“I lo-”

You quickly bite his shoulder, stopping yourself from finishing that most dangerous sentence. You didn’t notice River’s expression at the sentence that almost was. He felt himself getting close and reached down between your thighs about rubbed circles against your clit. You gasped and River felt you clench around him.

“I’m close.” he muttered softly

“I…”

“Come for me.”

You let out a final groan, wrapped your legs around him and you came. River didn’t last much longer, spilling inside of you. The two of you stayed entwined for a moment before you unwrapped your legs and River rolled off of you. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you against his chest. A heavy silence settled around you and you pressed your face in his chest.

“So,” he said at last, “what you were going to say earlier-”

“No,” you interrupted, “don’t ruin the moment.”

“I didn’t know we were having one.”

“This,” you raised your head slightly,, “was just another fuck.. Nothing’s changed from before.”

“Besides the fact that you now work at Six.”

“Service is Service. Doesn’t matter if it’s Five or Six.”

“Right.”

You lowered your head back down and closed your eyes. River rubbed circles against your shoulder and you felt your slowly drifting off to sleep. It had been too long since you had slept with anyone. You hadn’t shared your bed with anyone since you had left Five. It didn’t seem right. It wasn’t as though you and River were anything official. It was just a casual thing. A quick fuck to relieve tension. You weren’t meant to develop feelings, especially since River clearly didn’t feel the same.

“Hey y/n?”

You grunted as River’s voice dragged you out of your blissful slumber.

“What now Cartwright?”

River leant down, his lips grazing against your cheek.

“I told you,” he said teasing, “you would eventually start begging.”

Your eyes shot open and you sat up glaring at him. River looked down at you, rubbing circles against your shoulder, and you jabbed him on the chest.

“Fuck you.” you said

“I think I just did that.”

#fanfiction #slow horses #reader insert #request #river cartwright #river cartwright x reader

17 notes · View notes

afatlotofchance · 9 months

Text

Commission-story 2: The Glutton's Way of the Cross

From a cute little teenage romance and slice of life story, we jump into a completely different territory. More mature. More brutal. Darker.

Let's go to the most fanatical and backward parts of the Middle-Ages. Let's have some non-consensual force-feeding, some brutal gaining, and some painful fattening.

Trigger warning for violence, brutality, torture, all the gruesome side-effects of force-feeding, and other nasty things.

XXX

The monk at the door of the monastery scrutinised the horizon, waiting for the cart to appear at any moment.

“Well, brother Francis?”

Another monk had just joined the first one. Taller, thinner, and definitively scarier.

“I don’t know, brother Gilles… He is late. The bells have rung, but I still can’t see him.”

“Lateness is a symptom of laziness, and laziness is the son of sloth. Sloth is the weapon of the devil.”

“Indeed, brother Gilles. Do you think our food will be poisoned?”

At this moment, a cloud of dust arose from the road as the cart filled with the weekly food delivery approached.

“He is driving faster than usual.” Brother Francis noted.

“Well, he knows he did wrong. At least he shows signs of repentance.”

“I would say he rather shows signs of fear.”

“One leads to the other, brother.”

The cart finally arrived in front of the two monks.

“Well, my son? What kept you so late?”

“I was attacked, fathers!”

The monks opened wide their eyes.

“Attacked, my son?”

“Yes! A robber pushed me out of the cart and tried to steal it, with all the food inside! I still have a nasty bump from the hit! Thankfully, he got caught: he couldn’t control the horse!”

Brother Gilles looked at the horse. He always disliked horses – he knew a devil could be in them at every moment, spying on his every move.

“Do you hear that, brother Francis? A thief tried to rob us of our food!”

“I heard that, brother Gilles… My son, tell me, what happened to said thief?”

XXX

The small delegation of monks travelled through the streets of the little town. Every one they met on their way saluted them with a deep respect. Much more than simple politeness and respect for the man of the cloth, they rather acted out of the fear of what they considered dangerous and disturbing.

The monastery at the edge of the town wasn’t really liked around here. Not that the people hated them, they had too much respect for the religion for that. And these monks weren’t the kind that would revel in money and power to drink, eat, and lay with women like so many others did. But they also weren’t the kind to preach kindness and generosity like they were supposed to. You certainly weren’t going to see these ones begging, preaching, teaching or helping those in distress. Oh no.

The monks came rarely in town. They liked loneliness and to be secluded, working on the constant repentance of their own souls, for they knew the rest of the world had fallen ill beyond cure. They were so strict, so devoted and so pious that it became sickening and grim; and it was all the more frightening because they didn’t seem to remember what virtues and goods their own religion revolved around.

They were pale of skin, for they fled the hard work in the sun and buried themselves under stone roofs. They were thin, almost skeletal, for it seemed they only gathered food in their home just to not eat it. Their eyes were small and squint for spending their time in darkness and reading too much. But the worst of it were the marks of their… very specific devotions. Bruises. Scars. Burns. Sometimes a finger missing. One of the monks couldn’t speak, for his tongue wasn’t in his mouth any more – but nobody knew if the muscle was removed before or after he entered the monastery.

As a result, it was understandable that the crowd amassed on the town’s square would part like the sea before the old prophet at the mere sight of them marching towards the gallows.

Today, there was only one man to be hanged. The thief, brother Gilles guessed. He stepped forward and looked at the criminal. A small man near him was shouting at the crowd, explaining the boy’s crimes. But the monk did not listen to him – for he knew the crimes of the mortals and the sins of God were completely different things. The thief was young, barely a man, and he looked terrified. His hands were behind him, probably with rope around them, and the noose was around his neck – nicely tight. His eyes were wide open, jumping everywhere like wild rabbits, searching for a bit of help or mercy. He was sweating a lot, and his face bore the marks of terror – marks the monks knew very well. And they knew that with fear came redemption, repentance and faith.

“Stop!”

Everybody looked at the monks.

“Are you going to simply hang this poor young man like that? Without any form of trial? Without any form of judgement? Without any form of advice from the men of God?”

The small man looked quite embarrassed.

“Father, this man was a thief. Not only is he a thief, he is a sacrilegious thief, for he tried to steal your cart of food as it was leaving our town. The law claims that we should hang him.”

“The law of men, my son, not the law of God. God never said anything about hanging people – hanging other people is pagan, and hanging ourselves is only worth of a Judas, not of a petty thief. Thieves are to be crucified.”

The young man gulped down despite the noose around his neck, and he became even more pale and sweaty. Brother Gilles smirked. That was the reaction he was waiting for.

“But, as you said, he stole our belongings, our property, our food. We should have a word about his punishment.”

The monk got up on the gallows’ platform, and close to the young man. He was without a doubt a peasant – shirt, pants, small vest, a strong lace instead of a belt. His clothes were still dirtied with the dust and the mud from his failed crime attempt. He was young, as the monk had already noticed – young but stocky and bulky. Broad shoulders, thick chest, strong legs. He definitely looked like a worker, a hard worker, a farmer probably, certainly not a blacksmith. However, some elements of his morphology clearly showed a propensity towards sloth and gluttony. A soft flesh. A big belly, not round but slightly more prominent than the chest (never a good sign, for it meant the man’s heart was in his belly). A baby-like face, with fat cheeks and a double chin.

“How many years have you seen pass, my son?”

The boy gulped down once more.

“I will soon be sixteen years old, father.”

“You stole our food.”

“I was hungry!” the man cried out. “My father is dead, the taxes are heavy, my crops all withered and died! I don’t have enough money to buy bread, I would have died, only God could help me, and I had to do it, I succumbed to the temptation, for I was weak, and my belly ached, but…”

The monk put a hand on his mouth.

“Your head is shaved.”

“Huh?”

The monk took his hand and touched the top of his head.

“Your head is shaved, like those of our orders. Why so?”

“Keeps… keeps the little biting bugs away.”

“I see… Clean. Do you regret what you did?”

“Yes! Yes, so much, father, I repent father, please, I don’t want to be hanged, I’m not a criminal, I’m a faithful good…”

The monk made a sign to make him stop his pleas. Then he got near the small man that was shouting the boy’s crimes earlier on. He took him by the shoulder, leaned towards him and whispered in his ear:

“What do you know about the young man? Is he gluttonous? Slothful?”

“He certainly is both, father, everyone knows it around here! His father kept complaining that he was a good-for-nothing, a big belly with legs and without a heart! And when his father died, he inherited his farm with his field, but he never managed to get anything to grow there! I think he never really put any real effort in it, he just wanted to eat his own crops and had no patience to take care of it as he grew! Just a big gullet with legs, as his father said! Good for nothing.”

The monk nodded and turned back towards the young man, speaking loudly for everyone to hear:

“Hanging a man is not a dignified or Christian way to make him die. You are young, terrified and repentant. You are a sinner, yes, but if God executed all of the sinners on this Earth, only the pope would be left! We, as men of god, offer you a way to be punished for your crime while staying alive. A way that would purify your soul, make you repent and become a better person! We offer to punish you, not with a vulgar execution, but with a penitence! We will punish you like God Himself would!”

The crowd started to whisper.

“You shall be punished by where you sinned. Your mouth, your throat, your gullet.”

He got closer to the boy, his cold icy eyes straight into his. The young thief shivered in fear of the dreadful punishment that was awaiting him.

“Do you know what they do in Hell to gluttons?”

The young man shook his head.

“They are fed for all eternity. And so you shall be.”

The boy looked at him strangely. Was it… a joke? He never heard of a monk making a joke, even in in-jokes.

Brother Gilles turned towards the crowd.

“We will punish him by feeding him! He wanted to eat, well he will eat, until he realises his mistakes and his sins! He devoted his soul to the false god Gluttony, but we will show him the truth behind the lies, we will make him realise that food isn’t sustaining the soul, that what evil can offer is nothing but sickness and death! We will show him that eating isn’t a proper way to honour God!”

The small man, uneasy, looked at the executioner, who simply shrugged.

“Father… You want to feed him? That’s not…”

The look the monk gave him silenced him in the minute. Brother Gilles’ eyes were gleaming with a spark of pure madness, of insane cruelty, of the twisted fanaticism the townspeople had learned to fear since decades now.

“We offer him a chance to redeem himself! Isn’t that good? If he wants to follow our path, we will prepare his punishment. We will give the orders and the food, for we have plenty to spare – all we would borrow from the town are guards to carry on our orders, and your stocks, to keep him locked. But it is not your choice or mine.”

Brother Gilles turned towards the boy.

“It is yours. You can choose to redeem yourself and follow us. But if you would rather die as a sinner take the rope then, be my guest.”

“No, no! I don’t want the rope! I want to live! I want… I want to repent!”

“Good.”

Of course, the boy was afraid. He knew the reputation of these monks. He knew they liked the whips and the blades as much as the crosses and the rosaries. But what was the worst they could do by feeding him? They said it themselves, they would give him their own food. So nothing rotten or disgusting. They will offer him on a plate what he wanted to steal since the very beginning. They were so nuts in the head they didn’t even realise that their punishment was a reward more than anything.

Anyway, nothing could be worse than the gallows.

XXX

Of course, the stocks were pretty uncomfortable – forcing Yvan to stay on his knees, preventing his hands from moving – but it was better than the rope. At least, here, he had enough space around his neck to move his head.

The monks insisted on using the stocks of the marketplace. They refused to use those on the outskirts of the town. As they said themselves: “Like this, not only will his humiliation be greater, but he will also become an example, a lesson, a living book for the people of this town. Every day they will come and see him being punished, and mock him for having fallen so low – but at the same time, they will shiver for the sake of their own soul.”

On the stocks, was nailed a parchment upon which had been written only one word: “Glutton”. And indeed, his punishment seemed like a demonstration of what gluttony was.

Just like the monks had said, Yvan was being fed and that was the only thing they seemed to do to him. No whipping, no bone-breaking, no flesh-burning. Just… meals.

They served him three meals, three enormous meals – at sunrise, midday and sunset. Yvan never felt so happy and satisfied in his entire life! He was treated like a king, had his belly full, and could taste better food than he could have ever grown out of his own field! There were fruits of all sorts, apples, peaches, berries, nuts, olives, pears, oranges, along with a rich meal, good bread, and tasty wine. And there was meat! Real, juicy meat, cooked, roasted! He gulped down everything with glee and smiles, for he wasn’t even bothering with feeding himself: the guards were feeding him! Like a king, like a pope, like a god!

People soon gathered around him to see how the monks had planned to torture him – some even had rotten fruits ready to be thrown – but they all stood wide-eyed and still upon seeing the young, brutish, gluttonous, lazy man they all knew being pampered like the child of some nobleman. Were the monks completely mad?

Outside of the stocks, the only thing that seemed close to a humiliation was after his last meal – as the evening left place to the night and everybody was going home. Yvan had to relieve himself and the guards lowered his pants and made him defecate and urinate without taking him off the stocks. But, while it was humiliating for Yvan to know that all the women, men and children of the neighbourhood could take look his parts and dejections, and while it hurt him to hear the people’s laughs and mockeries, he quickly forgot everything about it, for the taste of the exquisite foods was still lingering on his tongue, and that was enough to make him happy.

As new guards arrived at night to watch over the stocks, Yvan liked his lips (still covered in juice and milk) and let out a small burp. His belly was full and heavy – the first time since… Oh, since his birth, probably.

Someone up there must be looking after him, he thought as he felt sleepy. Someone who whispered to the ear of the crazy monks.

This night, Yvan dreamed of huge feasts and banquets.

XXX

“Hey! I already had my meal at sunrise!” Yvan shouted to the guards as they approached with more food.

It was the middle of the morning. The market was taking place all around the young man, and the people nearby, merchants or clients, turned their heads towards the stocks.

“The monks said you’ll have five meals a day!” answered the guards.

“But I only had three yesterday!”

The other did not answer. Not that Yvan was complaining. Eating so much yesterday had woken up his appetite – he had felt hungry ever since sunrise and his breakfast, while big, certainly wasn’t enough to make him full.

Yvan salivated upon seeing the guards drop in front of him beautiful, greasy pieces of meat, firm and plump pomegranates, brilliant and sugary grapes, delicious buttery bread!

“That’s a lot of food!” he snickered merrily, still chipped up from the morning wine.

The guards looked at each other with a smirk.

“It is, indeed. Now open your mouth.”

XXX

They came back at midday, then in the middle of the afternoon, and at sunset. They helped him to do what he had to do, and the guards shifted for the night.

While still smiling as the idiot that he was, Yvan burped, not without a slight feeling of unease. The guards weren’t bothering with cleaning his mouth, so all the grease and fat of the meat was still dribbling down his chin, mixing itself with the milk and the wine in a pool on the ground. He felt light-headed, due to having much more wine than usual – which made him quite red in the face – but all the alcohol in his blood couldn’t erase the heaviness in his belly. His stomach felt so tight, in fact, it was nearly uncomfortable.

It’s nonsense, he thought to himself. No one can grow uncomfortable from eating too much. It’s hungriness that makes you suffer. Famine is the true pain. Not eating like a king.

Yet, his bowels still hanged dully from his guts, still feeling puffed up despite being emptied of their content not so long ago, and his stomach kept gurgling and bloating itself with gases and bubbles.

You couldn’t get sick from eating too much food… could you?

XXX

“Hey, could you… could you… just…”

One of the guards shoved a juicy and greasy chicken leg in Yvan’s mouth.

“What did’ya say?”

The young man munched and gulped down. “Could you slow down a bit? I’m starting to get…” An apple was put between his teeth. He had to bite. “… feeling really full now.” he said while munching.

“Don’t care.” the guard answered as he took a watermelon and cut it in big slices.

“I’m really…” Yvan let out a small burp. “If you go too fast, I might… choke you know?”

“The monks said nothing about you choking, or about us feeding you fast ofrslow. We just feed ya, and that’s all. The monks said: Feed him. And if he doesn’t want to eat…” The guard gave a violent kick to Yvan’s leg. The young man screamed, a bit of apple falling on the ground. “… then make him eat.”

Yvan ate the rest of the watermelon, but not without a slight nausea.

His stomach was so full he felt it could burst at any moment. Not that the food was bad – it was so delicious – and now he was getting kind of used to eating so much, even though it was really uncomfortable by the end of the day. It was the guards, they forced him to eat too much too quickly. He feared getting a stomach ache. He had one when he was little, after eating all of the apples of the neighbour's tree. But it quickly went away. He hoped this one will too.

Anyway, alcohol helped him soothe the pain. The wine they kept making him drink gurgled in his belly.

Another watermelon down, and Yvan burped again, but this time quite faintly, with a bit of saliva dripping from his lips.

He looked at what was left. Breads, several big pieces of bread. Anointed with oil and butter. To see them shine in the sun made his stomach turn and churn.

He could certainly do this. He wasn’t going to refuse eating some pieces of bread. Yvan, refusing food? That would be ridiculous.

XXX

“And that’s the last of it.”

Yvan gulped down what was left of the cheese. He burped and spat.

“I’m not feeling… good. Not at all…”

“You’re supposed to be punished, scum. You’re not supposed to feel good.”

Yvan looked at the guard. It was hard to look precisely at someone’s face while being drunk.

“I’m being fed. I’m eating. How is that a punishment? You can make me… hic! You can make me ache and sick and drunk, but… hic! It can’t be worse than the gallows, or starving in the street! Hic!”

The guard simply shook his head and went away, leaving the young man with his bloated belly and food-smeared mouth at the good hands of his colleagues.

If only this thief knew of the monk’s plan…

XXX

“Rise and shine! Time to eat!”

Yvan woke up. His stomach felt hard and heavy.

“What?”

He looked at the sky. It was dark blue, with barely a thin line of pink at the horizon.

“The sun’s not raising yet…”

“It’s the matins, my boy. Your first meal.”

“What?”

“Monks order. Make him eat at the matins. Bread, wine and fruit. Won’t hurt ya, right? Plus some nice cow milk! Fresh from the udder!”

Yvan didn’t feel like eating but… well, he had no other choice.

XXX

“Here’s the food!”

Yvan looked at the young guard that was bringing with him huge pieces of muttons, big apples and large pears.

“I just ate!” he said. “The matins are done!”

“Yeah, but the sky is all pink and the sun is rising, no? It’s the lauds.”

“The lauds?”

“Monks order. Give him food at the lauds. Come on, open up.”

XXX

“Food for ya, glutton!”

Another guard was coming, his arms filled with bread, quinces, plums and milk.

“I just ate… bwarp! Twice!” Yvan belched. “I’m full, really! I’m stuffed and not hungry any more!”

“But the sky is bright blue and the bells are ringing! It’s the prime, boy! The monks said you had to eat at the prime!”

“I’m full, I can’t eat any more!”

The guards gave him a kick in the butt.

“Come on, don’t squeal too much, you pig! You’re supposed to be a prisoner here. Don’t make me shove this food down your big throat. Come on, make some room, I’m sure you can.”

XXX

“I feel like… it’s so tight… I’m gonna burst.”

Yvan huffed and puffed. The young guard was back. He kneeled and looked at Yvan’s belly, opening a bit his vest and shirt.

“Indeed, I’ve never seen a gullet so round! Like a melon! The skin’s so tight I could play drum on it!”

“Please… don’t…” Yvan whispered.

“Well, I hope you’re hungry.” the young guard answered. “There’s lamb, and figs, and…”

“More… food?” Yvan cried.

“Yes. It’s the terce. The market is opening. Don’t you see?”

Indeed, the merchants had gathered on the market-place, preparing their stalls and stands.

“I… can’t eat. I… won’t eat. I don’t want… to eat. Stop.”

The young guard laughed.

“You know you can’t just ask that, right? If you don’t want to eat, you’ll be forced to. Please, show some courage. It’s not so bad, it’s just a big meal. Come on, open up.”

XXX

It was noon, now. The market was coming to an end, but a small crowd had gathered around the stocks to look at poor Yvan. He was as pale as his shirt, with a belly big and swollen. It kept gurgling, moaning and making strange noises. Sauces, juice, grease and saliva kept flowing from his half-opened mouth, staining his clothes and chins.

A guard appeared.

“It’s sext, my boy! Time to eat!”

“No… urg… no more…”

The gurgles were now coming from the back of his throat.

“Oh, you’ll eat, glutton. Open up, come on. Open… open. Open!”

The guard opened himself the boy’s mouth, forcing a piece of bread past his teeth. The entire bread finally went down, followed by some fruits. That’s when Yvan suddenly rejected the food he just ate, the fruits smashing on the guard’s chest. The guard recoiled with disgust.

“Can’t… I’m… urg…” Yvan whispered.

He vomited again, this time all the content of his previous meal. The guard looked at the slimy puddle of half-digested food.

“Oh, lad, you don’t know what you’re in for, do you? No matter how full you are, you’ll have to eat. Eat ‘til you burst. Monks orders.”

XXX

“Well, how is our little glutton?”

The head of the guards had walked all the way to the monastery. It was the smallest of the monks that had welcomed him – a weird one, with a sly smile, a dead eye and a missing finger.

“We did as you asked. Fed him at every service. Matins and lauds, prime and terce, sext and nones, vespers and compline.”

“Good. Is he regretting his actions now?”

“Don’t know. But he certainly regretted to eat. He puked it all out.”

The man nodded.

“Brother Gilles thought that it would happen. It means the boy is rejecting his sins. It’s not merely the food he vomits, it’s his crime. He’s expunging the Devil out of his own body. It’s good, very good. I hope you haven’t made him eat up what he vomited?”

“What? No!”

“That was the proposition of brother Francis. I’m glad to see you haven’t listened to him. Well, I’ll tell brother Gilles about our progress. I’m sure he is eager to share with you the next step of the plan.”

“The next step of the plan?”

“Yes, my son. Our little glutton is following his own Way of the Cross. And it means walking step by step. Each one more painful than the previous one.”

The little monk said that with such a childish glee that the head of the guards couldn’t help but shiver.

“My son… did you know we raised geese in the monastery, not so long ago?”

XXX

“Open your mouth.”

Yvan had no time to answer. The guards opened his jaws and put something in it. Something cold, metallic, long, that went down his throat. He wanted to gag, to spit out, to vomit, but he couldn’t. He squinted his eyes, trying to realise what had been put in his mouth.

The realisation hit his alcohol-imbibed brain.

It was a funnel.

Immediately, the food arrived. He couldn’t test it, but he felt it. Something soft, but heavy, that blocked his throat. He gulped down in order to not suffocate. And immediately something else came in, and he gulped it. The thing – food, must have been food – still came down his throat. It felt as something already munched and spit out. Must have been something mashed, grind, crushed. Probably purée or paste. Sometimes it was more jelly-like, other times it was a liquid. And of course, all of it had no taste, for not a single drop touched his tongue – all Yvan could taste was the cold, hard, nearly salty metal of the funnel in his mouth.

And said funnel was so big it blocked most of his view. The guards themselves wondered what kind of goose the monks could possibly feed with a funnel that big. But it was handy: everything slipped in it. The crushed nuts, the mashed fruits, the berries purée. They even pressed the meat, until it became a bloody and greasy pulp. It was still early in the morning, but they had a lot to do. The monks had warned them: more and more food will be added into the young thief’s belly, until food would take up so much space in his body the Devil would be forced to flee. Then, and only then, will the demonic sin drop the mask of pleasure and reveal its true face: that of a hellish torture, based on a ridiculous, base, pointless, unneeded material object. Food.

All day long the food kept coming. Now that the guards had to mash and prepare the food, each meal took twice the usual amount of time, and it had already been a lengthy process beforehand. Yvan felt like he was fed every minute of every hour of every part of the day, without any kind of pause or relief. Soon his belly felt full and round, but the food kept coming, making his stomach tighter and harder. Of course, all the food was pushed down to his lower parts – filling his intestines and gore, bloating the rest of his abdomen, until all of his internal plumber was clogged up. He felt like a sausage: a tight skin filled with stuffing. Half-sick, half-drunk, he daydreamed that if a butcher was to come and poke at him with his knife, his belly would probably slice itself in half, spilling everywhere the fruits and the meat and the bread he had been fed on, perfectly intact, still nice and shiny. But the mere thought of it made him sick again.

The nausea got so violent he tried to puke – but the funnel prevented such rejection. Worse, the small he had been able to get rid of was being forced down his throat once more.

By the end of the day, when they finally took away the metallic torture device, Yvan was crying.

He now understood how, exactly, being fed constantly could be, indeed, a true torture.

XXX

Brother Gilles followed the guard throughout the streets of the little town.

“And was there any other case of regurgitation?”

“It’s hard to tell with the funnel, father. But I don’t think so. I think he got used to it. After all, his stomach is twice as big – he can pack in much more than before.”

“What?”

The monk had stopped right in the middle of the street, staring at the guard with his icy stare.

“Well… yeah. He’s grown big. You’ve fattened him up real well.”

“He… fattened up?”

One of the monk’s eyes was wide open, expressing the most confused bewilderment. The other shone of some sort of dreadful angriness.

“Well… yeah.” the guard repeated, frightened. “Just like, you know… the goose. Like you said, how you’re feeding the goose. It’s fattening them up and… huh… he too.”

The monk ran towards the market place.

People had gathered around Yvan, smiling and quietly laughing at his ridiculous appearance. They talked to each other while pointing their dirty fingers toward him, clearly making fun of his situation – but Yvan had no ears for them. When he was being fed by the funnel, he could only think of gulping and swallowing so that he wouldn’t choke.

“We’ve stopped separating the foods.” the guards explained while catching up with the monk. “Now we mix all of it together. Fruits, bread, wine, meat, milk. It’all makes just one big goo. He takes him pretty easily. It’s just like a goose. And he doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Apparently, he can’t taste anything. He just eats and burps in our faces. The old guards don’t like it – they sometimes smack him in the face – but the others don’t mind.”

Indeed, when the guards took off the funnel, Yvan let out a deep belch that made all the people around laugh out loud.

All the people around except the monk – who merely screamed.

“Open the stocks! Put him on his feet! Open the stocks, I need to see it!”

The guards, quite surprised to see brother Gilles, obeyed. Yvan could barely stand up: sitting for weeks on his knees had weakened his legs. The sudden shift in position made him nauseous, and green in the face.

The monk rushed towards him and grabbed his belly. His now wide, fat, round belly.

His torso had doubled in size since their last meeting. Fat had bloated up his abdomen, enlarging his waist, padding his behind, rounding his belly – in fact, his midsection was nearly the shape of a perfect globe. His chest had also gotten thicker and larger, his shoulders broader and meatier. This transformation had, of course, an effect on his clothes: the laces that tied his sleeveless vest had all snapped, while the tighter one that he used as a belt was certainly about to do so. His shirt, ill-fitting when he was on the gallows, had now its fabric stretched on his gut.

“The mockery! It’s an outrage! He is mocking our punishment, he is mocking our order, he is mocking our God!”

Brother Gilles turned towards the guards and shouted, eyes injected with blood:

“He grew fat on the food we cursed him with! He turned our punishment of both body and mind into a display of excess and laziness! Look at him! Where’s the suffering in his face? Where’s the vomit of his repentance? Oh, I should have listened to brother Horace! We should have put living rats in his gullet so that they would devour him from the inside!”

The monk ordered the guards to put Yvan back in the stocks, before addressing the crowd around him:

“Look at this glutton! A thief, a glutton, a slothful, a prodigal son that dilapidated his father’s property! He killed his mother at birth, he tried to commit a monstrous sacrilege by depriving men of God of their sustenance! He is in league with the devilish horses! And now, what is he doing? He is being fed all day long, doing nothing but sit there, enjoying it!”

Finally, the nausea had passed and Yvan found the strength to speak.

“I’m not enjoying it!” Yvan cried out. “It’s hell! My belly aches, it makes me sick, I puke and I shit! My limbs are sore, I can barely walk any more! I’m feverish and sweaty and I don’t want to be here any more!”

“I don’t see your tears, liar! Your flesh is fat, glutton, sign of your own sin! You revel in your own evil! You’re bloated up like a vampire! Shut your vile mouth and speak no more!”

Brother Gilles took a lemon from a nearby stand and shoved it into Yvan’s mouth.

“You, people, are faithful! You were baptised, you are part of God’s livestock! You should act on his name, be his voice, be his warrior! You maybe can’t lead a crusade, you maybe can’t kill the heretics, but you can at least punish the sinners on Earth – this sinner on Earth, so that he won’t go to Hell after his death! Be kind to thy neighbour! Help this lost sheep! Push him back into the path of God! Do it!”

“But how?” the crowd asked.

“He’s a pig, treat him as such!”

The monk was now red and sweaty, a big vein pulsing on his bald head.

“This is a punishment! Make him regret! Make him feel what it would be like to be in hell! Don’t let him be complacent, don’t let him! By the authority of the High One, do it!”

The monk ran towards a merchant nearby, stole his knife and cut the tip of his own finger. Then he ran toward Yvan, took the lemon and put his finger instead.

“Drink! Drink my blood, for I am a man of God, and my blood is pure! You are a sinner, not worthy of the blood of the Great Saviour, so for your communion, you shall have the blood of a lesser servant. Drink! Drink! Drink, my son, drink!”

Yvan, terrified, sucked the monk’s finger, the strange taste of blood spreading on his tongue. It was quite similar to the taste of the funnel. The monk finally groaned and took off his finger.

“Perfect. You are absolved of your sins and crimes in the past weeks. Your mockery of our order will be forgotten. But, make sure you repent and suffer. Else… I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to do anything more for you.”

XXX

Yvan punishment went on. Every day, from dawn till dusk, a gruesome mix of liquids and mashed food, once glorious and sumptuous meals reduced to a colourless ugly goo, was forced into the funnel, down Yvan’s throat, and the boy gulped and gulped until his stomach was bloated and ready to burst – which became less and less the frequent, weeks passing by. For indeed, his stomach slowly distended itself, and grew with this new amount of food. Thus, the guards needed more and more to satisfy him, and even more to actually make him sick. It became so bad that Yvan actually ended up feeling a bit peckish after each day of force-feeding. Hopefully, the townsfolk joined their effort to those of the guards.

The monks had ordered them to lash all of their cruelty and mockeries upon the glutton, and so they shall. Not directly of course, only the guards could hit him (even though many common people came to pat his firm and blubbery behind, saying how the pig was fattening up nicely). Plus, mockery wasn’t enough for them any more – they had done all they could, and they grew bored of it, especially since Yvan seemed to ignore them completely.

So, they rather decided to help the guards in their feeding duty. Each day, the scraps and rotten things they usually kept for their pigs or their dogs were given to the guards so they could add it to the repulsive mush they prepared. Sometimes, they even fed Yvan directly, steeping their own mashed leftovers down the funnel. Since Yvan’s stocks were on the market place, the merchants liked to get rid of their withered or ugly products by throwing it down his gullet. At first, it made Yvan quite nauseous to eat all of this bad food, his stomach churning and groaning as it had to digest elements too hard or too rotten, but he soon got used to it – he had eaten worse in his years. Anyway, the townsfolk understood that giving Yvan bad food only resulted in more violent and putrid public defecations, and deciding that their market place already stank enough without this gruesome addition, they decided to only give him scraps and discarded bits.

In a very strange way, Yvan’s punishment became the town’s entire distraction, a sort of communal activity that people watched and participated in like if it was some sort of play or game. When the market was held, people bought food specifically so they could feed it to Yvan, under the guard’s watch. They had invented, without knowing it yet, the concept of feeding animals in zoos, several centuries before any zoo actually existed.

The thief’s force-feeding became such an amusement, satisfying the perverse tastes and desperate craving for distraction of the peasants and common folk, that at night, some people bribed the guards, with either beer or money, so that they could “play” all by themselves with Yvan by feeding him.

The crazy monk had ordered Yvan to stop getting fat in order to show his repentance.

It obviously wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

XXX

“He’s choking!”

“What?”

“Look! He’s choking! He’s getting all red in the face! And his tongue’s all out!”

“Nah, he must be drunk.”

“No! Look, he’s coughing! He’s getting blue!”

“Blue? Get him out of here. We’ll see.”

The guards opened the stocks, freeing Yvan who fell on the floor, hissing and wheezing as he was able to breathe again.

“What, he choked on food?”

“No, I don’t think so… Oh, I think I found it! Look!”

The guard forced Yvan to get back on his knees and to put his head back in the stocks. The guard slowly lowered the top part of the wooden device, until it nearly closed itself on the man’s neck.

“His neck’s too big!”

“How can a man’s neck be too big for the stocks?”

The guards forced Yvan to stand up so that they could have a good look at him – something Yvan could barely do, his wobbly legs having a hard time supporting his enormous weight.

Indeed, Yvan’s neck was now too big for the stocks! If it was even a neck what he had now. A ball of fat had replaced what he had for a neck: between his cheeks that grew and fell over on each sides, and his goitre of a double chin that had blown up, along with the rolls of fat that piled up on his nape, his head seemed to now rest on a pile of lard, an enormous roll of flesh twice as big as his own rotund head, as plump as the full moon.

The guards, so used to seeing this big, round, bloated body kneeling on the ground, like a pig eating in his through or some fat cow munching the grass, understood with a great surprise and an even greater disgust just how big Yvan had gotten.

His torso, that used to be already quite spherical in shape, had now grown so fat, so wide and so vast that the sphere had fallen into a shapeless mount, overflowing from the sides of his over-stretched pants. The lace that he used as a belt had snapped one evening as the guards were feeding him and now was hanging pitifully. His shirt, too tight and too small for his new girth, rose up on the enormous hanging globe that was his belly, grotesquely distended after so many weeks of overeating. Above his belly, his chest had grown fat and soft, his pectorals now hanging like two huge slabs of meat. But it wasn’t just his head and his abdomen – the rest of his body had also changed. His arms, for example, were each so big they looked like two hams put together – they were even bigger and thicker than the arms of the strongest of the guards! And his legs had also gotten larger – his pale, fleshy, jelly-like thighs rubbing against each other like full, sloshing wineskins – and underneath, his calves, also rounder and thicker, tightened the laces around the legs of his pants so much the guards feared they would snap like those of his vest.

The man was now a beast, as heavy as a bear and as grotesque as a pig. Yvan looked at the guards, with his stuffed and round cheeks, his mouth dripping with food and saliva, with the enormous bulges that were now his chins, and with his eyes, his bagged eyes, so tiny inside the puffed-up flesh of his face, eyes haggard and nearly dead due to the town amount of pain, nausea, satisfaction, happiness, pleasure and sickness he had experienced these previous months. And the guards felt disgusted and uneasy by what they had just done.

People gathered around to see the monster Yvan had become, to look at his body that was now roughly the shape of a little mountain, and the guards rushed towards the monastery to warn the monks.

XXX

Brother Gilles, brother Francis and brother Horace arrived soon at the marketplace.

“You’ve freed him? What’s the meaning of this? You…”

The monk stopped speaking upon seeing the enormous young man.

“We can’t take it any more.” one of the guards explained nervously. “This all thing becomes perverted. He was punished enough, don’t ya think? His neck can’t even fit in the stocks! Just look at him! He’s like the old Eglon, I poke my blade in him, he wouldn’t feel a thing! He wouldn’t even bleed!”

Brother Gilles approached the boy. The dead eyes of Yvan were looking at something far away from here, something over the rainbow, that the monks couldn’t possibly see.

“My son? Are you here with us?”

The boy gurgled up something. He opened his mouth, drooling. He let out a half-drowned belch and gurgled some more.

“My son… have you repented?”

Yvan turned his eyes towards brother Gilles, eyes still dead and blank, without any light or spark in them. He smiled, exposing his crooked yellow teeth, worn out after gritting for so long on the funnel’s metal, his breath smelling of all sorts of foods and rotten things.

Brother Gilles suddenly straightened up his back, as immobile as a statue, and shouted: “He repented!”

The other monks cried in joy and applauded, soon followed by the cheers of the crowd.

Brother Gilles took some of Yvan’s saliva, made a quick cross over his forehead, blessed him, and after hearing more cheering, Yvan lost consciousness.

XXX

Yvan was woken up by a deep feeling of hungriness, and the loud wails of his own stomach.

Yvan was in a cell. His body felt heavy and sore all over, except in the area of his stomach, that felt painful and empty. It was like having a big hole in his belly.

Trying to get up, Yvan suddenly remembered everything. The monk, the stocks, the funnel… He looked down at his body and held back a horrified scream. He was enormous! He couldn’t even see his own feet past his gut! Was he really as big as a boar? That’s what the people said when he was in the stocks. His belly was even sticking out of his clothes!

He touched it, felt his fingers seek deeply into the flesh, and suddenly his stomach roared once more. He was famished.

“Oh, you’re up. Good. I wondered if you were dead.”

A guard was opening the door of the cell.

“What happened?”

“You’ve been there for days. Sleeping, unconscious. We thought all this eating had killed you. You know, something burst inside you. But you’re still kickin’, that’s good. The monks said your punishment was enough. You’re free to leave.”

Yvan, surprised to even be alive but joyful to finally leave all of this torture behind him, followed the guard in the street.

When he got out, the people in the street looked at him, pausing and snickering before returning to their activities.

Another loud groan got out of his belly.

“Still hungry, boy? We can get you the funnel, if you like.” the guard joked.

Yvan looked at him with spite and walked away. Or rather tried to. His feet were not used to lift such a mass, he stomped rather than walked, and with each movement his thighs rubbed against each other, his behind jiggling and trying to fit inside pants now too tight, his belly bouncing in front of him.

A woman looked at him and laughed. Yvan felt embarrassed. He must be a ridiculous sight to look at. He wasn’t even pleasantly plump, or round as a rich merchant. He was so big he looked like a beast, a hideous beast, a wild hog, a freakish animal!

Three kids ran towards him.

“Oh, look! It’s the pig! It’s the goose! It’s the glutton!” they screamed with glee.

They started running around him.

“He’s like a barrel! No, he’s bigger than that! Do you have grains? Feed him grains! Feed him scraps! Don’t forget the funnel!”

“Leave me alone!” Yvan screamed.

He tried to hit them, to smack them on the head or slap them on the cheek, but all this moving around and leaning forward ended up loudly ripping something behind him.

“He split his pants!” the kids laughed. “He split his pants! Look at his bum!”

And the kids smacked his behind. “It jiggles, it ripples!” the kids shouted.

Yvan became red and shouted back at the kids some of the worst insults he knew, but another one had grabbed his chest – or rather what his chest had become, wide rolls of fat hanging on each side of his body.

“Look, he has udders! He’s not a goose, he’s a cow! He’s not a pig, he’s a sow! Drink, boys, drink, I’m sure there’s milk in it, suck it!”

The boy who had grabbed Yvan’s man boob received a violent hit on the head. Yvan always had large and tough hands, and now, with the added weight of the meat that hanged around his arm, his fist was doing much more damage than before.

The kids ran away, but their screams echoed in the streets, and as to answer them, Yvan’s stomach gurgled once more.

XXX

Yvan finally arrived at his farm. His old dad’s farm, now his own.

He was huffing and puffing, red in the face and sweating between his rolls. Moving around was much harder than before. He felt like he was dragging a dead horse with him: he was hot, his heart was beating like a drum, and he had the hardest time breathing.

Passing by his field, he took a gloomy look at it. The few plants that had managed to grow in this weed-infested earth had all withered and died. Sighting, but happy to be back home, Yvan entered the small farm and sat on one of the old wooden chairs.

It cracked and Yvan fell to the ground. It would have been more painful without the extra-padding on his behind.

His stomach protested once more against its emptiness. Now hunger was becoming painful, like if his insides were sucked up and crushed.

Yvan wondered what he could possibly eat to ease the pain, before reminding himself that there was no food left. He had eaten everything already.

Yvan then wondered what he could buy – not at the market, for he couldn’t show up there after all the mockeries and humiliations – in one of the nearby shops, at the butcher or at another farmer’s house. He then remembered he had no money left. He had used all of what he had to buy himself food.

No money. No food. And now no clothes, for he doubted to find anything that would accommodate his gargantuan size.

His stomach roared once more, so loudly it seemed a lion had entered the room. Yvan patted his belly, only to feel how wide, round and fat it was.

The young man understood that his punishment was far from being over.

#weight gain #my stories #my writing #kink story #weight gain story #male #man #force-feeding #dark kink #brutal kink #fat #fat fiction

34 notes · View notes