#And when you try to explain to him that it's because of emotional congestion | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

caspersickfanfics · 9 months ago

Note

OKAY!!! I have been released to spew emotional sickie headcanons and tropes and more and I’m thrilled

now ofc not all of these may fit the current fic you’re working on but these are some of my favorites 🥰 AND these specifically I think apply to Cyno

You already captured it perfectly but- the insecurity!! Cyno just losing his confidence and all of the deep rooted fears come to the surface with him asking “are you mad at me” like when a sickie is just so sensitive that any criticism they’d normally brush off hits exactly where it hurts the most. Cyno fears failure in my mind, and Cyno probably HATES letting Nari down the most.

also- irrational sickies. Like sometimes when your fever is that high or you’re just that unwell it doesn’t matter anymore you’re just upset. For cyno i feel like he’d be crying a lot of frustration tears too?? Like at first he’s just upset cuz he thinks nari is mad and every insecurity he has ever had is so raw and loud right now and then he’s crying AND THEN he’s upset, because he got upset! And now he’s crying because he is embarrassed he started crying and he just can’t figure out why he’s crying so much and ‘I can’t ever do my job again cuz I just can’t calm down’ full on spiral. I love this especially when the caretaker takes a clinical calming approach, helps them focus on breathing, and explains “baby, you’re sick. You have a high fever, and sometimes fevers can make our emotions yada yada whatever” and then like, tries to get them to have some water or just holds them.

I also feel like Cyno would start out trying really hard to keep it together and it would result in him just pouting? Like after nari assured him he isn’t mad or however that plays out, nari can see he’s still upset. And he’s trying to not let it show, but the second Tighnari asks him if he’s okay, the tears instantly pool, and he can’t really explain why? 🥺

I will die on the Cynos love language is physical touch hill with pride. He probably didn’t realize it till later in life but he wants to be held. He wants to feel safe. He likes deep pressure and hands in his hair and he wants to be compressed (I may be projecting but whatever)

NIGHTMARES!!! I also am very much sold on the idea that feverish Cyno has wild fucking dreams. Some fueled by his past ofc, but ALSO I’m thinking about you AMAZING fic where Cyno wouldn’t sleep cuz of anxiety and general fears that he’s a monster and will one day hurt tighnari. I feel like, he’d wake up just in pure, sick, panic cuz he dreamt that Tighnari was sick or hurt or killed or whatever and he couldn’t help him, no matter what. So he wakes up confused and scared cuz maybe nari stepped out, or something. Idk I love the idea of his fever brain being more concerned for nari and forgetting that he’s the one sick.

now for some more physical tropes

when an already congested character cries so much they just get MORE congested. Also as someone who eyes have swelled shut after crying too much I am biased to that as well. Like you cry fall asleep and then wake up just blind 🤣 OH and post crying sinus headaches

there’s also throwing up from said panic- or from crying which we have already seen a bit with Cyno in your other work as well. So we know for a fact that fear and anxiety makes him sick to his stomach 👀

self soothing?? Like when asleep, to they rock themselves, or rub their hair between their fingers or try and get really small and tight. I’m not sure if this fits for Cyno but I feel like there’s potential possibly from years of having to deal with illness as a baby on his own.

glassy, watery eyes, whimpers, dehydration from too much crying. Body aches, from flu but also from exhaustion. All wonderful things imo

AND the caretaker- when sickie is emotional it’s so so good when they talk them through whatever it is they are doing next. Even if it’s just to ground them. Cyno is probably used to the silent treatment from his childhood. So after nari gets him to settle I imagine Tighnari just, calmly talking to him or explaining what he’s doing next, or why he’s feeling what he’s feeling or what plant he found etc would really help remind cyno that he’s not being abandoned and no nari isn’t mad at him. oh!!! And last thing- I think- when the emotional sickie, gets upset AGAIN but this time it’s because they are overwhelmed with affection and are just, so grateful for their loved ones that they don’t know what to do. they finally feel they are safe and loved and then they cry all over again lmao

That’s all…..for now 😈

HELP I am!!!! So on board with all of this oml this is incredible!!!!!!!!!

Fear of failure fits Cyno SO well and like! I think it's in a bit of an unconventional way? He's not sensitive to just anyone deeming him as having failed. He genuinely doesn't care what most people think (based on him resigning from his position in canon to do The Right Thing according to his own beliefs). It's only the people who's opinions he values and respects (...Tighnari. also Collei. I could see him getting really sappy over accidentally doing something to upset Collei when he's sick. Or perceiving that he's not been good enough to her etc etc). And I think with Tighnari it's like. He values his opinion so highly, the absolute last thing he wants is to disappoint him.

Irrational sickies, so cuteeeee. My brain connected this one to the nightmare one and like. I just had this thought of. Tighnari is used to Cyno having these really intense, traumatic nightmares. So when he's sick and has a bad dream, Tighnari is thinking in that direction. But then it comes out that Cyno's dream was actually reliving the moment from earlier that night, where he asked if Nari was mad at him, except in the dream he actually was??? And now he just. Won't be convinced otherwise.

Fully agree about the point on physical touch!! Characters who were either overly manhandled or received little to no affectionate physical touch as children (OR BOTH, which may well be the case for Cyno) growing into touch starved adults >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Honestly, I need to write more of Cyno pouting. Thank you for reminding me and motivating me with such a lovely image of him tearing up and not knowing why, I adore that!!

Ugh yes I always lean in the direction of throwing up from crying because that's how my brain is wired, but I love these sinus/eyes/muscle achey consequences too!!! Like. Baby omg </3

Uhm. The self-soothing point. Is one of my favorite things. I had never put a name to it but!!!!!!! I'm so glad you put it into words!!! I DO think this can fit for Cyno, although I imagine it comes up a lot less when Nari's around because he's always going to reach for him first (re: touch as Cyno's love language). If Nari steps out, maybe he comes back and Cyno's hugging himself because he couldn't hug Nari. It might come up more with another caretaker - Collei, Alhaitham. Maybe Kaveh but I like them being cuddly with each other, too. OH the thought of Tighnari coming to help out and finding Cyno self-soothing, all curled up really tight, and knowing he's resorted to that only because Nari wasn't there sooner and Cyno doesn't trust anyone else enough to get close when he's feeling really bad????? *cries*

And yess!!!!! Caregiver communication is so good, especially with the context you gave of a possible history of silent treatment. Yeah. Like. Cyno having been experimented on as a little one, not being told anything, and just silently enduring because getting upset would make things worse. Maybe when he's really feeling awful he tries to hold the emotion in because he doesn't want to get in trouble for it, but Nari picks up on it and is so gentle and reassuring and good at opening that door of two-way communication. Reminding Cyno that he's here to care for him, and also that Cyno's bodily autonomy is going to be respected </3 and then the comfort cryyyyy freaking. Ugh. He's hugging Tighnari and suddenly Nari's shoulder is wet and he's worried, starts to pull away but Cyno just squeezes him tighter and whispers "thank you." Nari gets it, then, and he just holds him and lets him cry it out.

(Also we must have some kind of psychic connection because the next scene I had written was Cyno waking up from a nightmare and getting upset because he doesn't feel right 😂 Idk if that fits the irrational sickie trope exactly but like!!! Close enough lol)

This is all. Ahhhhhh!!!!!!! Just so fantastic!!! Thank you so much!! For sharing all of this with me!!!!!!!!! Genuinely made my night <333 I see that "for now" and :DDD Please feel free to continue or share other headcanons/tropes/etc. whenever you wish!!!!

#cas chats #yapping!!! fun!!#relevantlucidity #<333 #this ask is such a gift oml #saving a link to this for when i need inspiration !!!#headcanons #sick cyno hc #tighnari hc #genshin hc #genshin impact hc #cyno genshin impact #tighnari genshin impact #to write

9 notes · View notes

casuallyimagining · 4 years ago

Text

Fix You (1)

hybrid!Min Yoongi x female!reader

Summary: When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal? Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, fluff Word Count: 3,660 Rating: M Warnings (may not appear in every part): minor character is a dick to animals, mentions of a gun, main character injury (non-serious), discussion of physical abuse, emotional abuse, discussion of sexual abuse, discussion of self-harm

Notes: This is for the March project for @thebtswritersclub. The prompt word was ‘adventure’ and I mean, what’s more of an adventure than adopting a pet? Banner by @birbdae; thanks to @voiceswithoutlips, @taetaesbaebaepsae, @hoebii and @aroseforyoongi for editing various parts of this for me.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

“That cat got into Rick’s chickens again. Killed a couple chicks. He said he’s going to kill it if he sees it on his property.”

Your dad had said it nonchalantly, barely glancing over his newspaper. Without a second thought, you were out the door. There was no way to be sure, not really, but the sinking feeling in your stomach made you run a little faster down your parents’ driveway.

You could have sworn you saw that cat slinking under Rick’s fence on your walk earlier.

Rick’s property neighbored that of your parents, but you wouldn’t necessarily consider him their neighbor. If you stood on their front porch, you could just barely make out Rick’s house through the stand of trees that served as the property line. Your parents had chosen to let their piece of the world be natural, carving out just enough space for a house and a decent sized yard all those years ago. It had made for some great childhood adventures in the woods: pretending fairies were real, living out your childhood fantasies of being some sort of wizard, making friends with the trees--normal kid stuff.

Rick, on the other hand, had turned his land into farmland, even though he neither farmed nor cared for the land. The vast rolling fields of Rick’s “farm” were mostly bare. He had a pond in one corner on the other side of the property, and he had a small cabin for hunting when game season started. Mostly, though, Rick raised chickens. Annoying things, the chickens were, not unlike Rick himself. It wasn’t uncommon to hear the hens’ incessant clucking from your parents’ house, and the roosters never seemed to shut up.

When you moved to the city to attend college, you were elated to get away from the chickens.

According to your dad, the cat had showed up in the woods a few weeks ago, and it had made an enemy out of Rick almost immediately. The poor thing was skinny--too skinny, like it had been living on the streets for a while--and though its dark fur was ruddy and matted, you could tell it would be a beautiful onyx if taken care of.

As you got closer to Rick’s farm, you heard barking and a sharp yowl, and you hurried in the direction of the sounds, afraid of what you’d find. Rounding the corner of the chicken coop, you gasped in horror.

Rick stood with his back to you, shotgun in his hands. His dog, an old bird hound with caramel spotted fur, had the cat clutched in his mouth, the dog’s teeth sunk directly into the cat’s shoulder. The cat, to its credit, had puffed itself up greatly, its tail nearly double its normal size. It was growling and hissing, and, despite the pain it was almost certainly in, was swiping at the dog with its front claws.

“Call your dog off, Rick.” Your voice was steadier than you thought it would be. You were out of breath from the run over there, and being anywhere near Rick with a gun and his snarling dog made you a little uneasy.

“Fuck off.” The man barely turned his head to you. “Damn cat’s been a pain in my ass since someone dumped it here. It killed four of my chicks.”

“Look at it. Of course it’s going after your chickens. You don’t keep them in their coop. It’s starving.”

“Damn thing should stay at your soft-ass parents’ house if it wants handouts.” Rick cocked his gun, pointing it at the cat. The cat’s copper eyes flashed to Rick at the sound. It looked terrified.

The fact that it knew what a gun was and knew to be afraid of it broke your heart a little bit.

“Call off the dog,” you said again, taking a step toward him, hands splayed out in front of you placatingly. “Calm down. I’ll get the cat out of your hair, and you won’t have to worry about it again.”

“Ain’t going to replace my chickens.” Rick’s voice was gruff, but he lowered the gun.

“I’ll pay for your chickens. Just call off your dog.”

He stared at the cat, the gun clutched in his hands but no longer pointing it at anything. For a second, you thought he was going to sicc the dog on the poor thing just to spite you and make a point. You had a feeling he was the type of person to do that. But after a tense stare down, he whistled through his teeth.

“Drop it,” he commanded the dog. The dog looked to its owner, and he repeated the command. It took a second, but the dog released its bite, and the cat slumped to the ground. Rick regarded the cat with a sneer before turning to you. “Take care of that thing. If I see it on my property one more time, it won’t be so lucky.”

You nodded tensely, and he whistled again. The dog trotted over to Rick’s side and the two walked off. You stared after him for a moment. A pained yowl drew your attention back to the cat.

The cat looked angry, and you didn’t blame it. Its tail was still puffed up, and you could tell that if it hadn’t just been attacked by a dog, its hackles would be straight up. Its copper eyes glared at you, its ears flat against its head. You approached cautiously, and it growled deeply in its throat.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you soothed, crouching down to make yourself less threatening. “I’m going to get you help. Is that okay?”

The cat hissed at you and attempted to back away. It made two limping steps before collapsing into the mud around the coop.

“That’s alright. It’s okay.” You sighed, unsure of your next steps. You didn’t want to traumatize the cat by coming any closer, and you really didn’t want to risk injuring it further by picking it up and having it fight you.

You looked at the cat, blinking slowly when you accidentally made eye contact with it. You had read somewhere that blinking was a way to show a cat that you weren’t a threat, and though you felt kind of silly, at this point, you were willing to try anything.

“What am I going to do with you, kitty?” you questioned, sitting down in the mud. The cat looked at you curiously, as if asking what the fuck you were doing. “I don’t want Rick to hurt you,” you confessed. “I’d like to take you somewhere safe.”

Truthfully, that was part of the reason why you were even visiting your parents. Your mom had told you about the cat, and how it didn’t seem to be wearing any collar, and while you were visiting them you wanted to try to trap it, either to bring it to live with you, or to take it to a nice shelter where it could get a good meal and hopefully find a nice family.

“Can I take you to the vet, at least?” You really were desperate, talking to the cat as if it understood what you were saying. The cat, to its credit, looked at you, copper eyes staring into your face before it blinked, just once, slowly and deliberately.

When you reached out to it, it didn’t growl.

You stood and approached the cat, doing your best not to make any sudden moves. You scooped it up gently, careful not to jostle his left shoulder too much, and cradled it close to your chest.

The walk back to your parents’ house was slow, but the trip to the vet was even slower.

It was a weekend, so the vet in your parents’ sleepy little suburb was closed. You had no choice but to pack your bags back up and make the trek home to the city to take the cat to the 24/7 emergency veterinary hospital.

You tapped your hand on the steering wheel. Traffic wasn’t usually this terrible on a weekend, but there was some sort of sporting event happening, so of course, all the roads into the city were clogged.

Stopped at a red light, you spared a glance toward your passenger seat. The cat laid on his side--it was a him, your mother had confirmed--his breathing labored. You could tell he was still on edge. His tail was still puffed up like a cat-of-nine-tails, and he kept eyeing you warily. But he had let you wrap him in a blanket and carry him to your car, and he had stayed on the seat, almost like he knew it was the safest place for him.

“Almost there, kitty,” you mumbled, changing lanes, finally free of the congestion. “Hang on just a little longer.”

Thankfully, the vet wasn’t busy, and you were able to get in with the assistant almost right away. You explained everything that had happened to her as she examined the cat, tutting slightly as she checked his shoulder.

“There are some punctures, but nothing that’s too worrying. I can bandage it and give you some antibiotics.” The assistant pulled her hand back as the cat swatted at her for touching his shoulder a little too forcefully. “Do you know if he has an owner? It would be helpful to know his shot records.”

You shook your head. “He just showed up in the woods one day.”

“We’ll get him a full round of vaccines, then, too.” Copper eyes met yours, and for a second, you thought you saw a look of concern cross them. But then he blinked, and it was gone.

The vet ordered an MRI, and thankfully, because it was a large veterinary hospital connected with the local university, they were able to do it the same day. So you ended up staying at the vet for two hours as they anesthetized the cat and did the scan. While the cat was waking up, the vet called you into the exam room.

“We checked for a microchip, and there was none,” the vet--Dr. Jung--informed you, his brow furrowed. “Based on the cat’s malnutrition and the condition of the coat, it’s likely he was a stray for at least a few months.” You nodded. The poor cat. “We should have the MRI results soon. I’ll give you a call in a few hours once I get a chance to read them. Normally, since he’s a stray, we would contact our foster network to see if anyone would be able to take him in. But since you brought him in-”

“I’ll keep him,” you said quickly. You were planning on it anyway. Just because he was hurt didn’t mean you were willing to give him up.

“Good.” Dr. Jung smiled at you. “My assistant is wrapping his shoulder now, and we’d like to just monitor him for a few more minutes to make sure he’s coming out of the anesthesia well, but you should be clear to take him home after that.” He placed a box on the table between you. “This is Clavamox. One millilitre twice a day for seven days. I don’t think he’ll develop an infection, but since he was so dirty, I think it’s probably better to be safe.” You nodded and pocketed the box. “We also gave him a rabies shot while he was here. It’s standard because he was bitten. If you notice any symptoms, please call us immediately. Once he’s feeling better, we can get him the rest of the vaccines he needs.”

You nodded. This was a lot all at once. And you didn’t even know what you wanted to call the cat yet.

Dr. Jung seemed to be able to tell you were feeling overwhelmed, because he offered you a comforting smile and patted your shoulder. “I’m going to go check on him. You can come if you want.”

As soon as you entered the room, groggy copper eyes were on you. The poor thing looked stoned out of his mind, but there was recognition there, and that gave you some comfort. At least he wasn’t glaring at you anymore. Dr. Jung’s assistant had wrapped his shoulder, so he had a bandage from his upper left front leg wrapped all the way around his chest and up around his shoulders.

“What are we going to do with you, kitty?” you questioned softly, reaching out and gently placing your hand on his head.

After checking the cat’s vitals one last time, Dr. Jung let you leave.

He was limp in your arms as you carried him into your apartment, still a little drugged up from the anesthesia. The whole way back to your apartment, he had sat in the passenger seat and looked out the window like a drunk, moody college student.

“It’s up to you if you want to stay, kitty,” you told him, gently laying him down on your couch as soon as you kicked your shoes off. Of course you wanted to keep him. You had grown attached to him in the few hours you had been with him. But if he was miserable, you were willing to help him find somewhere that was more suited for his needs.

He tried to stand, succeeding only long enough to give a dramatic wobble before collapsing back into the overstuffed cushion. While he was completely recovered from the anesthesia, Dr. Jung had warned you that the cat might be feeling the side effects for a day or so. You reached out to pet him, but his copper eyes slanted into a glare, and you pulled back.

Assuming the cat was hungry, you left him alone and headed into the kitchen. You had some chicken in the fridge, and you thought maybe he would enjoy some fresh meat he didn’t have to steal. You weren’t sure when his last real meal was, so you wanted to go easy on his digestive system until you knew he was feeling better. You’d have to stop and get cat food at some point, but for now, chicken would do.

You did your best to trim off all the fat from the chicken breast. You knew he wouldn’t mind eating it--cats ate weirder things from fresh kills, after all--but you figured with how thin he was, lean meat would probably be better. Carefully, you cut it up into small, easy-to-chew chunks and put some on a plate, wrapping the rest and putting it into the fridge for later. You used a dropper to evenly spread the required dose of the antibiotics onto the chicken in hopes that it would make it easier to give him the medicine.

Returning to the living room, you noticed that the cat hadn’t moved aside from doing his best to curl up as small as possible in the corner of the couch. You tried not to make eye contact with him as you pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it on the cushions. You weren’t particularly keen on having raw chicken all over your furniture, but you sat the plate on the blanket anyway. There was no way you trusted the cat to be able to jump down off your couch at this point.

“Here’s some chicken, kitty.” You gestured toward the plate, and he eyed it warily, unmoving. You supposed he would feel more comfortable eating if you weren’t in the room. “Don’t leave it too long--it’ll go bad. I have to go do some work. I’ll be in my office if you need me. It’s just down the hall.” As you stood up, you paused. You were talking to a cat. You were talking to a cat as if it could understand exactly what you were saying.

Maybe your parents were right. Maybe you had been living alone for too long.

Your mother had suggested you get a hybrid when you first moved to the city--a nice, loyal, protective one, like a German shepherd hybrid or a golden retriever--but you had never gone further than passively looking.

You were happy for the hybrids. A majority of them were still owned, but they could move about their lives freely and without question. It was illegal to treat them as servants, and all ownership had to be consensual, though you weren’t sure how well those rules were enforced. You didn’t really understand how someone could just own a hybrid--they were people, after all, even if their DNA was a little altered. It was weird to you, owning another sentient being like that.

Their lives were certainly much better than they had been. Some hybrids were naturally occurring, but others--a majority of them--had been created by rich and powerful individuals and the government in secret during some shady human experiments in the early 20th century. And, of course, because they were experiments, it created a whole host of problems regarding rights and discrimination.

But despite all the improvements, there was still a long way to go. There was nothing wrong with owning a hybrid if it was consensual, but that didn’t mean you were necessarily comfortable with it.

After a few hours of sitting at your desk working on your most recent graphic design project for work, you turned away and stretched. If you had to stare at the color chartreuse for ten more minutes, you thought you would go blind. It was time to check on the cat anyway, and you wanted to make sure you threw away any chicken that was left on the plate you had given him so he wouldn’t get sick.

When you entered the living room, you were immediately confused. The cat was gone, but so was your blanket. The plate was still on the couch, almost exactly where you left it, but it was entirely empty. Wonderful. You had taken in some sort of Houdini cat.

You grabbed the plate and put it in the sink, trying to look for your blanket as you went. You found it when you returned to the living room, the corner sticking out from under your TV stand. There was just enough space between the bottom shelf and the floor for the cat to fit under, and apparently he had taken the blanket with him. You couldn’t really blame him--it was April, and it was late evening, and your floors were still a little chilly.

“Hey kitty?” you called, bending down to see if you could see him under the shelf. You had thought about it while working, and at this point, you were just going to lean into the whole ‘talking to the cat like he’s a person’ thing. “It’s starting to get late. I’m going to go get ready for bed, okay?” You could just barely see his copper eyes hidden all the way under the TV stand. His pupils were blown wide to capture all the ambient light they could. “You can explore or whatever you’re comfortable with tonight, but please don’t ruin my stuff. Please be a good kitty.”

He blinked once and continued to stare blankly at you.

“Okay, well… if I don’t see you, goodnight.”

You stood and headed off to your bathroom to start your nightly routine. It only took you about a half an hour, but you were soon laying down in bed with your book. You had started it a few days ago, but you were hooked, and you were already almost done with it. The author had managed to somehow insert a space alien robot into today’s modern digital age, and you found it fascinating. You would never look at social media and influencers the same way after reading this book.

It was cozy in your room with the little bedside lamp on, snuggled up in your blankets. Your bed was soft--it was one of those that you could change it using a remote to fit your mood and preference, but you almost always preferred it soft--and you had plenty of blankets and pillows to make it comfortable.

You only had a few pages left when you noticed it, the shadow lingering in the hallway, slowly getting closer to your open bedroom door. It started out against the wall across the hall. When you next looked up after glancing down to your book, the shadow had moved to your doorway. He even had turned his head away like he was pretending it was a coincidence that he had ended up in your room.

He was walking with a slight limp, which was unsurprising given the bandage and the fact that he was attacked not even 12 hours before. He was much more lucid than he was when you first brought him home, though you could tell he was still a little groggy. You didn’t say anything to him--you figured if you did, he would bolt, so you let him do what he wanted.

After a few minutes--maybe 15 or 20--you closed your book quietly, careful not to startle the cat. You glanced at the doorway and didn’t see him, so you put your book on your nightstand and turned off the light. It took you a second, but you snuggled down into the blankets, pulling them tightly around you. You were just about to drift off when you felt it.

Something landed gently on your bed by your feet. It paused for a moment before slowly making its way up the bed to your head, its gait uneven. When it got to the other pillow, it laid down. You risked opening an eye then, and were met with copper eyes staring back at you.

He watched you warily, as if waiting for you to yell or kick him off the bed. When you didn’t, his eyes narrowed, and he slowly allowed himself to lay down, his head on his paws, curled up as best as he could be.

You fell asleep to the sound of him snoring lightly.

As always, your feedback is appreciated. Feel free to pop into my ask box with questions or thoughts about the series. I’d love to hear from you!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #hybrid yoongi #hybrid yoongi x reader #bts hybrid au #hybrid au #thebtswritersclub #yoongi hybrid au #hybrid bts #hybridyoongi #yoongi hybrid #yoongihybrid #yoongi angst #bts angst #min yoongi angst

1K notes · View notes

nojey · 4 years ago

Text

reminiscing (fans 2)

dreamwastaken x streamer!reader

genre: angst pronouns: they / them word count: 2.1k warning(s): failed relationship, cursing

fans (part 1)

synopsis: after taking 6 months off from social media, you finally explain to your fans why you took so long and why you needed it.

go live. *click*

you watched as your chat strolled in and viewer count go up. your computer screen illuminating your face in the dark room as your webcam caught the nervous look. you were shaking your leg up and down, a habit you caught whenever you tried to calm yourself down.

“hi everyone, it’s been a while since my last stream, huh?” you dryly chuckled. “it’s been about.. 6 months since i last streamed and at this point i think i’ve taken enough time to correctly word how i’m going to tell everyone why i decided to take a break from streaming.” you said looking down at the ground and fiddling with your fingers.

“uh, donation notifications will be off for this stream and chat will be on emotes only because i really just want to focus on getting this out. but if you plan on donating, thank you so much, really, it means the world to me.” you said finally looking at your webcam and smiling a bit. you read a chat and answer, “yes, i’m doing okay. i just have a big announcement i want to say after i tell you guys why i took a break.”

you took a deep breath in and started. “ over a year ago, almost 2, i met this guy through a friend and we started talking. it was very little at the beginning but as little as it was, his texts always made me smile.” you scratched the back of your neck. “and as time went on, we started talking more and more and he just became part of my daily routine. when i woke up i’d see a good morning text from him, we’d spend most of our day being on the phone with each other, i was even on facetime with him most of my streams but i had an airpod under my headset so you couldn’t really see it, i almost always fell asleep on facetime with him. i really fell for this guy.” you fondly smiled, looking at your desk, where your phone used to be propped up and you would see clays face just looking at you.

“then we started streaming together. ‘omg he’s a streamer too’ yeah, and a lot of you probably know who i’m talking about at this point but i still won’t disclose who it is. i uh, got a lot of messages from you guys telling me that i looked super happy that stream and i was. i was always happy when i talked to him. but along with those messages i also got a lot of hate, telling me to stay away from him. it didn’t really bother me because i always get hate when i stream with my guy friends; i was used to it.” you said, taking a sip from your water then wiping the side of your eye as it teared up.

“and today... i’ll be going on the dream smp! with the man himself, dream. dream, say hi now.” you introduced, you waited a few seconds but was only met with silence. you grabbed your phone and sent him a voice message, “clay! you’re on deafen! introduce yourself!” you screamed into your phone. dream then took himself off deafen and said. “hi (y/s/n)’s chat! i’m dream, i’ll be showing (y/n) around the smp today and we’re gonna get started on their house.” you smiled fondly when you heard him speak. “yeah! what dream said!”

so you both logged into the dream smp, said hi to sapnap, and dream gave you a tour. you then started building your house in a forest, quite far from everyone else, “i don’t want anyone bothering you or ruining your house when you’re not on.” he explained. you told dream you wanted to build a cottage so if anyone does end up stumbling upon it, it looks welcoming to them. so dream started building your house for you even though you insisted you do it together. “dream! let me help, this is supposed to be my house.” you dragged. “well we can both decorate inside and make it our house.” you started blushing. “i guess..” you mumbled. you then started adventuring out to look for flowers and some things to decorate the house with.

you started placing flowers down into flower pots when you noticed something. “dream there’s only one bedroom.” you mentioned. he slowly turned around to look at you and quickly turned back and placed two beds next to each other. “this is our room, dumbass.”

later that night you checked your twitter dms and saw many people telling you to stop talking to dream and that you weren’t good enough to even know him. you sighed and powered down your phone.

“i think a few weeks after that he asked me if i could fly out to him and we’d meet in person. i was so excited i immediately started packing and i met him. it was amazing! i got to meet the guy i’ve been in love with for the past few months. i think it may have been a year already. but yeah, i finally got to meet him and being in his arms was the best feeling in the world, i felt so safe being with him.”

“it was the day after that, when he asked me on a date and i, of course, said yes. like who would say no to the person they fell in love with... so we went on a date and at the end of it we were just sitting on top of the hood of the car, eating dinner, watching the sunset and talking about a future we wanted together. and it may seem like we were moving fast but i knew 7 months into talking to him that he felt the same way about me. no matter if either of us disclosed it. i could tell and i knew he knew the same about me. then i went home and everything was perfect, i wasn’t his girlfriend yet though because we wanted to wait a bit.”

“that’s when everything went downhill, i think” you looked up to try to stop the tears from going down your face, but they fell anyways so you just let it be.

“we started streaming more and more and i started getting more hate than i usually got, this time getting death threats, people threatening to leak my address if i didn’t stop being friends with him. it was crazy but i was willing to endure it all for him. who cares what people on the internet are going to say to me? i really didn’t because i was happy enough with him that, that happiness overcame whatever type of hate i was getting.” tears kept falling from your eyes but you didn’t bother to wipe it, knowing it would just keep happening.

“dude you’re so annoying! you definitely cheated!” you screamed as you died. through your headset you could hear clay wheezing. “there was no way i was cheating!” he said through his laughs. “ask my chat, they saw the whole thing.” you breathed out, not wanting to believe him till a dono was sent to you, “yeah, (y/n) you just suck at this game,” you gasped, your jaw hanging then you started pouting. it was clipped and one of your viewers sent it to dream. he suddenly started laughing harder and you asked him why he was laughing, with a pout still on your face. “even your chat knows i didn’t cheat!” you started laughing too, till you read a message in the chat saying, “ew, their laugh is ugly. i don’t know why dream likes them.” you stopped laughing but kept a fake smile on your face.

“then he called me and he told me that he didn’t think we should be dating anymore, or even be friends. and i think it was because he saw the hate i was getting and he didn’t like that. he told me a different reason as to why he didn’t think we should date anymore but i didn’t believe it, but i let him go. because i was not going to force him to be with me if he really did mean it. “ you said, sniffling after so you didn’t sound too congested as you spoke.

after you hung up, you curled into a ball and cried. you cried, and cried, and cried. the feeling in your chest hurting more than you could ever imagine. you just lost the guy you wanted to marry, the guy you had spent over a year going to because of your problems, the guys you saw having kids with, the guy that made everything worth it. he was the only person on your mind as the pain in your chest grew. you tweeted and powered your phone off straight after. you didn’t want anyone messaging you asking what was wrong, knowing your friends they would do that.

“so the reason i took a break from streaming was because of that. because i resented the people that sent me hate so much i couldn’t bring myself to stream. i didn’t resent them because they sent me hate. i resent them because the hate they sent me caused the guy i really wanted to be with to make me believe he didn’t love me like i love him.” now, you were sobbing, letting your cry’s out because you had been holding them in for too long.

it had been a few months and you were on snapchat, seeing that you had a memory a year ago today, you checked it. “i think i literally met my soulmate.” with a picture of you and clay in a discord call. your breath got caught in your throat and your breathing became labored. your eyes started stinging as the tears started falling. it’s happening again, all the pain from the day you stopped talking to him came back and once again, you were crying into your hands and you couldn’t stop.

“i had always known that becoming a streamer i would get hate, but i never thought that i would get enough hate to prevent a relationship i really wanted to work. now all i do is reminisce of a guy i wish could be mine”

“streaming has brought me so many opportunities and i am so grateful for everything you guys have done for me, and for me to be able to do something i love and make money from it is insane to me. you guys have given me everything i ever wanted in life up until that point and i am so grateful and appreciative of that. you guys gave me friendships that i will never lose and never forget. so many of you have told me that i’ve saved you and changed your lives but trust me when i say you guys have saved me and changed my life too. i hope i repaid you back by making you smile, being your comfort streamer, and being a support system for each of you. but i think this is my end of the road. i fucking love streaming, i love you guys. but every time i click that “go live” button or even try to, all i think about is him and that’s too painful for me right now. maybe in the future i’ll find my way back here but i can’t promise that.”

“thank you guys, so, so, so, so, much for every single opportunity given to me, for everything. i love you all. my dms are still open. and this was (y/s/n), signing off for possibly the last time. goodbye everyone.”

end stream. *click*

a tear rolling down his face and falling onto his keyboard as he watched you finally say goodbye to your stream. it all just felt like you were saying your last goodbye to him again.

for the last 6 months all clay could do was think about you and how he wished he just messaged you and told you he was sorry and didn’t mean what he said. that he misses you and he would quit streaming if that meant he could be with you. that all he wanted was to feel you in his arms again and just live out the future you two planned together.

but if you just said goodbye to your chat for your last stream because you couldn’t stand the thought of him whenever you tried to stream. how could you ever forgive him?

the thought of never speaking to you hit him once more and again, he cried, sobbed, screamed, threw things, and even then, he knew.. you would never be coming back to him, with every fiber in his being, wishing you would.

—————

taglist: @loxbbg @bozowrites @noahsfag @sparklykeylime @bi-narystars @axths @cheybaee @letsloveimagines @meatte @julesamen21 @classyunknownlover @bad268 @strawbrinkofdeath

1K notes · View notes

plush-rabbit · 3 years ago

Text

Mental Toll - Brothers.

Request: My mom kicked me out, her 15 year old daughter out of her house. And I've been staying with my aunt but everything is taking a mental toll on me . Can I get a Beel, mammon, Leviathan, or asmo comfort?

A/N: Sweetheart, I’m sorry for this. It can be all so difficult for you, but please take care of yourself. Remember that nothing is your fault, you’re a child, you’re gonna be okay. Please don’t keep these emotions bottled up (im also assuming this is comfort on your situation, so yeah)

Mammon:

You’ll always have a place with him. He’s taken on a guardian role for you and while he might have hated it at first, he’s grown attached to you. Your guardians in the Human Realm don't matter. They decided to leave you, so now you’re here with him and he isn’t going to abandon you anytime soon. Mammon may not know what to do when he finds you crying and unable to speak, but he cares and he’ll try to show that to you, telling you that you can bunk with him for the night- you get to take his bed and he’ll sleep on the couch, you don’t have to be alone.

He isn’t exactly the best at comforting, using a bit too many words only to come up short, but once that initial nervousness wears off, he’s comforting. He’s taken care of a child before- granted they were much younger, and was then put into the care of witches- he knows what a scared kid looks like. He’ll offer what he can to you and let you rest your head on his bicep as he listens to you ramble about what happened. He won’t ever push for you to talk, but it might help sort out all those feelings that are bubbling up inside of you.

Of course it’s difficult for the both of you. He isn’t too knowledgeable about the mentality and fragility of a human mind and emotions but he can assume to be essentially kicked out of a parent’s home can be rough. He’s dealt with it before even if he knew the risks. He remembers the nights of pain and agony, the silent suffering that was thick in the air, and the lack of self-care. He comes in with a small meal every day, grabbing random vitamins that he thinks might be good for you, and just lets you rest. You see a more hidden side of Mammon, the one that cares too much, that acts almost like a parental figure and have a comforting smile and gives nice hugs.

You aren’t free to rest forever. He’s also seen what that kind of damage that can do to someone's mental health. He won’t ever pressure you to go out and do something you don’t want to, but you do have to move from the spot on his bed. You can hide yourself in his room for as long as you want, but you can’t live your life stuck in a bed. He knows that that isn’t good for anyone. You’ll have all the space that you could want and need, but you need to also talk to him and take care of yourself.

It’s his role as your guardian to take care of you and make sure that nothing bad would happen to you- you being in the Human Realm makes no difference to that. You’re still under his protection and he’ll take care of you as much as he can. Mammon can be brash, and have his sin take over, but it isn’t all that he is. He can be selfless and take care of you and let you just relax around him. There’s no pressure put on you and he’ll protect you. He promises that- he’s a demon, he’s lived for a long time and he’ll live for an even longer time and as long as he’s around, he’ll protect you.

Leviathan:

Coming to Leviathan is certainly a choice. He cares- of course he does! But, he doesn’t know what to do. Of course he knows how it feels, but it was different and so long ago and buried under memories and the fictional world, that he chose to forget that. It’s different with you. You’re a child who’s crying and at a loss for a parent that left them and it must hurt. He’s awkward, but he’ll sit by you and have a hand on your back telling you to take all the time that you need. He’s always here in his room after all, so you can always find him.

In the beginning, he doesn’t know what to do. Surely, there should be words or tips online that could help him translate his words and feelings better than “that sucks.” An apology feels so fake and unsure and he doesn't want that for you. You deserve something real, an actual meaningful interaction that might help you but he comes up blank. He doesn’t know what exactly he should say, so he just lets you rest beside him as he tells you his own encounter with abandonment and what helped him.

He tries to make you feel better in a way that helps him- via distractions. It helped him and maybe it could help you. You like to spend time with him so you both must share some type of interest in common. He feels so proud of himself when he offers you to read his manga or play some of his games. It’s a nice distraction and depending on what you choose, it can be a great way to just open up emotions and see what could effectively help trigger just that blockade of emotions for the both of you. You don’t have to do it, but it proves to be nice to just immerse yourself in some fictional tale.

Eventually, he starts to read what you read once you’ve fallen asleep. You gravitated towards it for a reason and it’s easier to talk to you like that. You get to be the hero, the protagonist or whoever you want, and he knows the struggles that they go through. He can help through an outside glance. It starts off simple, just him mentioning comments, prying for information about why you like a certain character and then in just a blink of an eye, you’re crying. You opened up and he’s by your side.

Comforting you is a bit awkward, but what could he expect. He sits by you and lets you talk through your emotions even if it makes no sense- your words are garbled and out of order- but he gets the main point of it. Leviathan understands that you’re hurting and who wouldn’t be. You’re a child, and the love of a parental figure means a lot. He might not be confident to have that type of relationship with you, but he can certainly be a big brother who lets you come into his room and sleep in a futon that he has when you’re feeling particularly lonely.

Asmodeus:

His eyes are sad, the usual glow and glimmer dimmed and his smile once beautiful and stretched, it pulled into a soft frown. Even in sadness, he still looks beautiful. With a gentle pull, he brings you into his room, and lets you set your stuff down on the floor. Asmodeus holds your face in his hands and gingerly wipes away your tears. You’ve had such a long day and it’s no secret that he has the best bath in the house, so he lets you go use it in order to destress, just enough to clean yourself and have time to gather your feelings and thoughts.

The room is suited to him and to only him, but he figures that you wouldn’t want to be alone. He has to rid some of the extra pillows on the bed, rid of the stronger scents in the room in order to not congest you more, and just declutter his room a bit more. It’s suited for him, a demon who can and lives for the finer things, but for you, he needs you to be able to breathe. The sheets are replaced, the towel that he has set for you soft and fluffy and the clothes clean and smelling like the house, a much better scent than the stitched to your clothes. He sends it to you via magic, wanting you to come to him when you’re ready.

When you approach him, he gives you a comforting smile and pats the bed beside him. He grabs your hand and massages it slowly, telling you that he’ll be here for you if you need anything. You can talk to him or choose not to, and he won’t pressure you in the slightest. You can take your time to talk to him. He feels a bit bad that he can’t tell you that everything will be okay, he knows it will, so sure of it that he’d bet himself on it, but it isn't what you want to hear. You just need to know that he’s right there by your side.

For now, you’re okay. You’re safe in his room and he likes being an older brother- at least to a few. He likes to spoil people rotten, and he gets to do that with you. You get to have everything good and shiny. You’re going to be okay when you stick with him, because he won’t let anything happen to you. He’s going to be your new home, your new big brother.

The process is tough, and he doesn’t rush anything. It’s subtle with Asmodeus and being ever so careful with his appearance, he makes sure to take care of yours. Mental health is so fragile and he just wants you to be okay. He’ll offer substitutions if certain activities can feel a bit too difficult for you, but he doesn’t push too much. You still have to take care of yourself and it might feel overbearing, but he needs to take care of you.

Beelzebub:

Family means everything to Beelzebub. At the very end of it, it’s part of the core of who he is. He feels your pain and is empathetic when you tell him what happened and he holds you close, letting you rest on his bed as he sits on the edge with a comforting hand rubbing circles on your back. He’s a demon, he knows just how cruel others can be, and yet, to see someone hurt someone as young as you, it makes him sick.

Your tears hit him hard and he can only hug you as you cry into him about your situation. There are too many emotions inside of you and it must be so difficult for you to handle all of them and he wishes he could help take that away, but he can only hold you and make sure that you sleep in a position that won’t hurt your neck once the tears have tired you out. It’s the little things that he does for you until you come to him and explain everything to him, and he’ll listen and won’t interrupt.

During this time, he tries to not be imposing. He doesn’t want you to run from him so he’ll give you time to come to him when you’re ready. He checks up on you often, knocking on your door and entering with a few snacks. He’ll stay if you ask him and talk to you about mundane stuff. A part of him wonders if that’s really what you want to hear, but he can’t say anything different. He doesn’t know what it is that you want to hear and he doesn’t want to pressure you any further. Anyways, it seems like you like to listen to him during these moments. Maybe, he provides a nice distraction.

He’ll always make sure that he has his phone on him in case you need him. He’s told you before that you can contact him whenever you want, and that he’ll come running to you. He’s sure it’s his big brother instincts taking over. He may be the sixth brother, but it doesn’t remove the fact that he has a twin. It’s only by his power that he ranks sixth. With you, he can be a big brother and be the cool and caring type that takes care of you. You can always come to him whenever you need something and he’ll make sure to give you whatever you want.

It comes to no surprise that you two develop a strong bond and you start to stick to him and he welcomes that. He won’t leave you alone unless you ask him to and he always makes sure to include you in whatever activity he has. During lunch, he’ll sit with you and listen to you and he’s glad that you're starting to feel better around him. You’ve both grown quite attached and he tries to do good by you. Beelzebub will give you whatever you need because beside his twin, you’re the youngest in the family. He’ll reassure you that nothing is your fault, that you’re only a child and that you’ll be okay. You’ve been there for him and he’ll be there for you.

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #big brother vibes!!#for all!!#or least four #theyd care a lot #theyd be clunky and unsure how to deal with it #but they would #they care

68 notes · View notes

touchmycoat · 3 years ago

Text

RUBBERDUCKING

SO. we want YQY involved, and the way to do that is for LQG to get in the middle of the Secret, a.k.a. YQY got himself 98% dead as a kid trying to save SJ and it’s not that he didn’t try, it’s that he’s failed, and he doesn’t believe SJ needs to know that because either way it’s his fault and if he tells SJ that’s basically emotional manipulation isn’t it :^)

Mini-timeskip. It’s a month since the qi deviation. YQY’s actually a little excited because liujiu’s relationship has always been defined by LQG’s judgment of SQQ and SQQ’s refusal to explain himself. Now, there’s circumstantial evidence that LQG believed himself to be in the wrong this time? Because he didn’t fight back when SQQ tried to kill him. Does that mean there’s an incoming change to their relationship?

He needs to figure out what happened (and SQQ won’t tell him shit). LQG’s shut himself away in meditation (he’s processing) and YQY waits a bit impatiently for him to get out. At this point the liuqi relationship is one of trust and loyalty. They work well together in a way where they know how to play roles complimentary to each other: LQG can be the bad cop to YQY’s good cop or the enforcer to YQY’s affably dangerous mastermind. YQY assumes LQG will just tell him what happened; he doesn’t expect resistance.

But resistance is what he gets. "Did SQQ not tell you?” He heads for Qing Jing, YQY in company trying to assimilate this new information. He’d assumed LQG said or did something to offend SQQ, but now LQG’s actions imply there are additional factors of shame or secrecy that SQQ hasn’t shared. That would make sense alone because SQQ never shares anything, but the fact that LQG is choosing to respect that?

Does LQG know something about SQQ that YQY doesn’t?

That’s the mindset YQY has at the start of the confrontation. SQQ sees LQG—immediate storm clouds. “Surely our last parting can clue Liu-shidi in on the fact that he should never show his face in front of me again?”

LQG, post-extensive meditation, goes: “If you think I’ll somehow use it against you, I can vow that I won’t.”

YQY’s even more alarmed as his suspicions are confirmed: LQG unintentionally witnessed something vulnerable about SQQ. That explains SQQ’s murderous rage and LQG’s retreat.

SQQ goes dark sided and draws Xiu Ya. He and LQG clash, but—

LQG: what’s wrong with you?

SQQ, teeth gritted: go to hell.

But YQY understands—what LQG means is that there’s something wrong with SQQ’s cultivation. YQY watches with increasingly tension.

SQQ: Why is there someone like you in this world, always getting in my way and trying to trip me up?! (attack, something) I’ll kill you.

LQG: With that kind of cultivation?

It’s an intentional taunt meant to throw SQQ’s control. It works. LQG spots the place where bad qi is congested and moves in to attack/remove it.

YQY catches his wrist and stops him. It hurts. YQY looks dangerous.

YQY says nothing as he releases LQG’s (red) wrist. LQG warily steps away. SQQ is stunned but desperately trying not to look it.

YQY turns to him, all concerned gentle zhangmen-shixiong again.

“That must be built up from last time. Qingqiu-shidi, it’s best that we see to this as soon as possible. Mu-shidi is away at the moment, but from the looks of it, I have some experience with such qi blockages. May I? I don’t mean to push but such a blockage can really be quite dangerous for the practitioner and harmful for continued cultivation—”

“Alright.”

(The gentle nagging is even more confounding because both SQQ and LQG are still very aware of LQG’s bruising wrist.)

YQY settles behind SQQ and begins soothing out the qi blockage. Part of SQQ wants LQG to leave but what if the deviation happens again? If LQG is still around then YQY can’t go full Qi-ge in public, so SQQ grits his teeth and bears it. LQG also doesn’t move to leave because he sees the safety of his fellow Peak Lords through no matter what.

It’s okay for a little bit. Then YQY frowns. Then there’s some blood-spitting, and LQG is jumping in to help out YQY.

(YQY tries to get rid of the whole thing from SQQ, which works, but then it folds itself into him. He’s trying to force it out by brute force but the tangle has caught onto Xuan Su’s spiritual energy in YQY’s body.)

LQG senses this connection as he adds his spiritual energy to YQY’s. Frowning, he reaches for Xuan Su, thinking either getting rid of it as a conduit on YQY’s person or drawing it just a little bit to force the tangle out would work. Unexpectedly, YQY grabs him again and forces LQG to stop.

SQQ only sees the aftermath. He does not know Xuan Su had just become part of the equation.

“Apologies Liu-shidi, that was remiss on my part. Here’s a lesson to us all huh, better leave medical procedures like this to Mu-shidi!”

YQY is trying to distract. LQG lets him, goes along with it. Without knowing the details, SQQ still very much knows something is going on.

“The blockage is all cleared now. Qingqiu-shidi should rest.”

“I’ll see you back to Qiong Ding,” LQG. YQY nods.

“Then I’ll be troubling—”

“That’s it? Didn’t Yue-shixiong want Liu-shidi and I to work things out, patch things up?”

“You started the fight,” LQG reminds him. SQQ smiles thinly.

“So I did. But I’m now ready to conduct a conversation, provided Liu-shidi is amenable to temporary civility. Won’t you join me for tea?”

“Liu-shidi.”

The undercurrents are clear: LQG knows something about SQQ that YQY wants to know and something about YQY that SQQ is suspicious about. YQY is asking for LQG’s loyalty to him first, and SQQ’s expression is slowly darkening as he thinks he’s lost this fight.

LQG, however, says: “I’ll come back later.” It’s a surprise to SQQ and YQY both because that’s acquiescence—that’s LQG saying okay let’s talk this out.

While it doesn’t necessarily compromise LQG’s loyalty to YQY, it’s also ambiguous about it. SQQ says nothing in response. LQG and YQY go.

#liuqijiu #chapter 2 of the deaged SJ fic #i keep trying to write it but i've rewritten the same 2k like 4 times already arghghhggh #i'm GONNA get this written i fucking swear i'm a mess #don't read if you don't want spoilers #679

15 notes · View notes

magnoliabloomfield · 3 years ago

Text

Afterlife Part 14

Madison took a deep breath outside the infirmary. She had to go in there and tell Fontain what was going on and it made her heart absolutely ache. Like Gally, she had this strange feeling that things would be very different after this, and that if there was anything you didn’t want to lose you had to keep it close to you.

Newt had told her and Gally about a place far from wicked where they all planned to go to keep the immune children safe. It sounded like a paradise and she would very much like to be there with Gally and Fontain.

She opened the door and found him organizing his already immaculate medicine cabinets. He turned and looked at her, a small smile gracing his stubbled face. It was the look of a man who knew what was coming and it only made her feel worse.

“Hey Madison,” He greeted her softly.

“Hey,” she said, trying to control her voice and emotions so she wouldn’t break down crying.

“I heard about the big plans for tonight,” He said still sad but acting like it was fine. “Sounds like there’s really a chance to take Wicked down.”

“Gally asked me… to go with them,” she confessed, looking to him for his reaction to that.

His smile lilted to one side knowingly. “No, he asked you to go with him.”

She took another shuddery breath. “I told him I would.”

“I know,” he said, he didn’t seem confused or angry, but rather proud.

“Why don’t you come with us too?” she blurted hopefully. “You could help Jorge, and then we’d all be together when it’s all over.”

Fontain shook his head. “I can’t leave these people, they need me-“

“I need you too,” she cut in feeling her throat tighten painfully.

“Madison,” he said softly. “There are a lot of people, like Frannie, that really need me to stay. You did need me for a while, but now you don’t.”

“How can you say that?” she sobbed. “I’ll always need you!”

Fontain pulled her into a hug. “I will always care about you, but it’s time to let go.”

“How do you know?” she was crying so hard her words were barely coherent.

“Because you’re asking me to go with you, and not looking for a reason to stay with me,” he explained as he rubbed her back and rocked her gently to make her feel better. “It’s you and Gally now, you both want to be together and that’s why I’m not trying to stop you. I’ll worry about you like crazy, but as long as you’re with him then you’re right where you’re supposed to be.”

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

Gally was getting ready with the others and wondering where Madison was. He worried that maybe she had changed her mind about going with.

“Where’s your friend?” Newt asked him as if picking up on his thoughts.

“She’s coming,” he tried to sound casual.

He started rearranging things in his bag to draw out the process and then she finally arrived. He took one look at her and his shoulders fell. He started walking towards her to meet in the middle so the others couldn’t eavesdrop. He was giving her a very concerned and questioning look.

“Mads, what happened? Are you ok?” he asked her in quick succession as he peered down into her red and puffy face, her eyes bloodshot and glistening from crying. It was the worst he’d ever seen her and it scared him.

“No,” she admitted with a sigh, her voice raw and congested. “I was saying goodbye.”

His expression went slack as he put it together exactly who she had to say goodbye to that would make her cry this hard. Fontain.

The day he met them he could tell they were like father and daughter. He hadn’t thought about how hard it would be for her to say goodbye to him, especially when there was this ominous feeling in the air that they wouldn’t be calling this place home anymore.

In fact, Gally really ought to say goodbye to him as well, he owed him that at least.

He reached up and brushed Madison’s tear stained cheek with his knuckles, his broad back hiding it from view of the others. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Madison closed her eyes and leaned into his touch for a moment.

“Get your things ready and wait for me, ok? I’ll be right back,” he told her and she nodded.

Fontain didn’t seem surprised to see him, but gave him a big smile nonetheless. He also looked like he’d shed quite a few tears himself.

“You’ve come full circle,” Fontain said as he gestured to the infirmary. “It’s quite poetic that we say goodbye where we said hello.”

“I’m sorry,” Gally blurted as he held onto the doorway. “I didn’t think about what this meant for you.”

Fontain just kept smiling. “It means I succeeded at my job,” he shrugged. “I know Madison’s not really my daughter but-“

“Yes she is,” Gally assured him.

Fontain’s composure slipped a little as he looked down. “You always know the day is coming when the kids have to say goodbye. That eventually they’ll have something important to do with their life or they’ll find that special person they want to be with, and sometimes it’s both,” he said as he looked up at Gally. “The only thing you want is for them to be happy and safe, and not to be alone. So you tell me. Did you find something that made you happy in this life? Something that makes you want to keep living?”

Fontain was looking at him so meaningfully, so hopefully.

Gally nodded, feeling himself get choked up. “Yeah, yeah I did.”

“Good,” Fontain said with a big smile and tears shining in his own eyes, clapping him gently on the shoulder. “That’s good. Just… take care of her for me.”

Gally nodded again, knowing he’d have to force his way past the lump in his throat to say what he’d come to say.

“I will. And, uh,” he began to crumble. “Thank you… thank you for saving me.”

Fontain hugged him tightly as he started to cry. “I knew it was the right thing to do.”

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

Gally led the way in the tunnels, he was the only one who knew them well. Madison took the spot by his side as a matter of seniority, at least that’s what she told herself. The others wouldn’t know any better, as far as they were concerned she was the native and they were the tourists.

She didn’t have much of an opportunity to talk to Gally so she wanted to at least stay close to him until they parted ways. It was a comfort every time they bumped shoulders or he took her hand to help her through the more difficult areas to navigate.

They finally reached the fork in the road where Gally, Thomas, and Newt would go on to the city to get this Teresa girl, and she would take Brenda, Fry, and Jorge to the church and get it ready for things to go down.

“You got the map?” Gally asked her.

“Yep. You got yours?” she asked and he nodded, patting one of his pockets.

“You watch out for cranks, ok?” He told her seriously.

“And you watch out for mad scientists,” she quipped back at him.

He just stared down at her for a beat, all the others waiting on them, then finally he reached up and ruffled her hair before turning on his heel and going off with Thomas and Newt.

She stood there for a moment, feeling her hair slowly falling back into place, and gently shook her head before going on her own way. He would never cease to confuse her, she thought with a sigh.

Brenda reached up and fixed her hair for her. “I know how pesky the big brother types can be,” she commented.

“Mmm…” Madison recalled that moment on the roof. She was pretty sure there was nothing sibling-like about her and Gally. “Yeah,” she agreed anyway. It was simpler.

“So how are we getting into this church? Do we have to go out on the streets?” Fry asked.

“Well,” Madison said a few octaves too high. “The good news is we’ll go straight up into it, no crank infested streets at all.”

“And what’s the bad news?” Jorge asked her.

“I wouldn’t call it bad news-“

“What is it?”

“You know how churches usually come with grave yards?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, thanks to the city growing up around it and land space, blah blah blah, this church doesn’t have a graveyard,” Madison started to explain, kicking a rock along the damp floor of the tunnel. “But it still has all its corpses. Going into the church from the bottom means going up through the catacombs in the basement.”

Jorge was saying a lot of Spanish words very fast and very unhappily.

“You know what?” Fry said in an unbothered tone. “I’ve seen worse.”

Madison went ahead of them when they reached the church. She was equipped with goggles that would pick up the body heat of the cranks, and a rifle with a silencer. She cleared the building and made sure any points of entry were secure and then she went back for the others.

They lit a few candles and set up an old dusty table and some chairs. They moved some pews out of the way to open a spot to place their prisoner in. The hot seat.

Madison checked her watch. They were done with what they had to do before the others even made it to the city she estimated. She hated waiting. She hated having empty time and empty hands while something important was coming. It left her mind to wander down dark paths and twisted her guts up.

“I’m going to catch up on some sleep, I did not get enough last night,” Brenda said as she laid out on one of the pews and shut her eyes.

Jorge had something to tinker with and Fry got out some of their snacks.

“Why do you look so nervous, little girl?” Jorge asked her.

When he spoke she stopped bouncing her leg and that was her first clue she’d been doing it to begin with.

“I’m not nervous,” she answered. “I’m worried.”

“You think we don’t have a good chance?”

“It’s not that,” she sighed as she ran her hands along her lap. “It’s that city. Wicked. They had me, and they had Gally, I worry about them getting us again. What if they make Gally forget again? What if they put another one of those things in his head? Or-“

“Wait,” Fry held up a hand and leaned forward. “Put what where?”

She stared at him for a moment, her head slightly turning as she scrutinized him, knowing he couldn’t be saying what she thought he was saying.

“Don’t tell me… you don’t know?” she raised a brow and Fry continued to look completely clueless.

Brenda sat up on the pew.

“The chips?” Madison felt her heart pound. “Don’t tell me you still have the chips in!”

“What chips?” Fry asked, just as agitated as she was now.

“Oh shuck,” she stole Gally’s strange word. “Wicked puts a chip in every one of their subjects,” she explained and turned to show the scar on her neck. “They use it to manipulate your mind and identify you. Fontain removed mine and Gally’s when he rescued each of us.”

Fry felt the back of his neck.

“So you’re telling me that Thomas and Newt still have their chips and Gally is with them right on Wicked’s doorstep,” she stated more than asked. “Great.”

She threaded her fingers tightly through her hair, pulling on the roots. Her stress was through the high church roof now.

It felt like an eternity but the others finally arrived. Madison couldn’t tell if her heart leaped or bottomed out from the relief of seeing Gally alive and well in front of her.

But she was on her feet instantly and going to tell him her important news. She eyed the others towing along the infamous Teresa with a bag over her head. She raised her brows at Gally and made a ‘come here’ motion with her hand.

It was hard not to throw her arms around him in a hug, but she placed her hand on his shoulder when he leaned in to listen to her.

“The others didn’t know about the chips Wicked put in, they still have theirs,” she whispered into his ear.

He pulled back and looked at her with mild surprise, ‘are you kidding me?’ written all over his face.

“Ok, I’ll take care of it,” he whispered back, giving her arm a little squeeze as he went by her.

She followed him to the table and he had a hushed conversation with them.

“How are we gonna get them out?” Thomas asked.

Madison raised her hand. “I have the supplies, Fontain made me take a field kit just in case,” she whispered, patting her bag gently. “The only thing is I don’t know how to get them out. Fontain took out both of ours and Gally is the only one that came in after me with one.”

Thomas looked over at Teresa still slumped in the chair. “I think we have someone who knows.”

“Are we ready to do this?” Newt asked.

Everyone nodded. Gally, Newt and Thomas were on their feet while the rest of them sat around the table.

Newt went over and pulled the bag off Teresa’s head. Long dark hair, clean and shiny, tumbled out. Pale skin, pretty features, bright blue eyes looking over everyone in the room. Madison felt a discomfort seeing someone so pretty, but tried to remind herself that Teresa was also evil.

“Gally?” she said breathlessly as her eyes widened.

Out of everyone here, thought Madison irritatedly.

Gally’s shoulders tensed as he leaned against the table. “Here’s how this is gonna go,” he stated, his voice reminding Madison of the way he talked to Abe after throwing him across the cafeteria. Good, he really didn’t like her. “We’re going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to tell us exactly what we need to know.”

He uncrossed his arms and straightened up, dragging one of the chairs her way. “We’ll start off simple. Where’s Minho?”

Teresa looked past him at Thomas, sounding breathless again when she spoke. “You guys don’t seriously think-“

She was cut off by Gally dropping the chair in front of her with a loud bang. He straddled it, crossing his arms over the backrest as he got eye level with her.

“Don’t look at him,” Gally commanded. “Why are you looking at him?”

Madison tried to keep her expression neutral since Teresa could see her, but it was difficult. She hadn’t encountered this authoritative and intimidating side of Gally before and it was mesmerizing. She was just glad she wasn’t the one in the hot seat.

“Look at me. He’s not going to help you,” Gally went on. “Now, we know you have Minho in the building. Where?”

She squirmed a little but stayed quiet.

“Where?” Gally repeated more harshly and Madison almost jumped. She was way over there and she was ready to tell Gally anything he wanted to know, she couldn’t fathom how Teresa wasn’t cracking.

“He’s with the others in holding,” she muttered quietly, apparently not so strong after all. “Sublevel three.”

“How many others?” Newt asked.

Teresa looked either embarrassed or guilty as she worked her bottom lip before answering. “Twenty-eight.”

Madison felt her heart harden in her chest. She was disgusted with this girl and with Wicked. So many innocent kids in that hellish place.

Gally looked back at Brenda.

“I can make that work,” she nodded.

Gally’s eyes flicked over Madison’s as he turned back to Teresa.

“No, no you guys don’t understand,” she sputtered. “The whole level is restricted. Y-you can’t get in without a thumb-print ID.”

“That’s why you’re going to come with us,” Thomas informed her, speaking up for the first time.

Madison sensed a tension there.

Gally however just shrugged. “Well, I don’t know,” he mused. “We don’t necessarily need her. Right?”

He stood up and pushed the chair off to the side before returning to the table.

“Not all of her,” he said as he picked up a knife. “We just need her finger.”

Madison was surprised at him. She felt like she was looking at a stranger, but she wasn’t about to undermine him in front of everyone.

“Gally, back off,” Thomas warned him, sounding tired.

“What, are you squeamish?” Gally asked him. “I guarantee you she’s done a lot worse to Minho,” he said as he gestured at her with the knife.

Madison swallowed. She had told Gally what she had seen going on in there, what she experienced, and now he had a friend in there. He was probably scared and justifiably angry.

Teresa, for her part, looked understandably nervous.

“That’s not the plan, back off,” Thomas said again and took the knife from him.

He approached Teresa now and Gally fell back to leaning against the table.

“It won’t make a difference,” Teresa said in a clipped, know-it-all tone. She was trying not to seem intimidated and over corrected. “Do whatever you want to me, you still won’t get through the front door. The sensors will pick you up-“

“I know,” Thomas cut her off. “We’re tagged. Property of Wicked.”

He crouched beside her and she warily eyed the knife in his hand before she looked at him again.

“You’re going to help us with that too.”

Madison peered over Teresa’s shoulder as she removed Fry’s chip first.

“Can I help you?” Teresa asked her, slightly annoyed.

Madison gave a cheeky little laugh. “You? Help? That’s funny.”

Teresa gave her a glance, one of her perfect brows raised. “Aren’t I helping right now?”

“It’s under duress,” Madison pointed out raising a brow of her own. “I just wanna know how this is done in case I ever have to do it.”

“Then by all means, keep breathing down my neck,” Teresa mumbled as she got back to work.

Madison was tempted to really huff a hot, humid breath on her but decided that would be a bit too childish.

Teresa finished with Fry and Madison took on dressing the wound so they could hurry through it. Newt took his place in front of Teresa.

“So you made friends with Gally, huh?” Teresa commented.

Madison gave her a side eye but didn’t say anything. Gally seemed to be guarded when it came to what they knew about him or her.

“I don’t see how that would be possible unless he lied about-“

“Gally has always been honest with me,” Madison cut her off. “And I think you all should be more interested in what he’s done since then and stop trying to hold him in the past. You’ve all changed since then too, some more than others,” she said pointedly to Teresa. “Now, let’s stay focused here.”

“Agreed,” Newt said. “Let’s get this bloody over with.”

Madison chanced a glance over at Gally to see if he caught any of that. He was already looking at her and gave a slight nod as if in thanks. She gave a small smile before going back to observing.

When it came to Thomas’s turn he asked for some privacy. Madison gave the two their space and bandaged Newt up back at the table.

“You’re right Madison, I should have asked Gally more about what he’s been up to all this time,” Newt said before looking over at Gally. “Sorry mate.”

“Well, at least you did something when Thomas started throwing punches,” Madison mumbled as she smoothed down the edges of his bandage, a bitter edge to her voice since she was still mad at Thomas for that. Realizing what she’d just blurted out she glanced wide eyed at Gally over Newt’s head. “Sorry,” she mouthed at him in case she had gone too far.

Gally didn’t seem bothered by her. “Like I said, I had that coming,” he shrugged, earning a disagreeable glare from Madison. “I’m not going to try and convince anyone to forgive me, all I need you to know is that I’m going to make sure Wicked get’s what they deserve.”

Madison perked up at that, remembering how she had told him that if he thought he didn’t deserve to live he should live to give Wicked and his friends what they deserved. She got very worried all of a sudden, hoping he wasn’t planning some personal suicide mission he wasn’t telling anyone about.

She was about to ask to speak to him privately about that, but he was suddenly up and moving stealthily across the room. Madison watched him come up behind Teresa and grab her hand as she reached for something on the tray of medical tools. She stared up at him and his deeply furrowed brows.

“Nice try,” he said before taking it all away from her.

“Time for dress up,” Jorge said as he grabbed up the things Gally and the others brought. “Let me make sure Madison gets the smallest one.”

Gally came up to the table again and Madison tried to get his eye.

“Ah, the largest and the smallest,” Jorge handed over clothes to the two of them.

She took hers and then followed after Gally.

“Hey,” she whispered to him as she caught up, checking to make sure no one was on their heels. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“We gotta hurry, Mads,” he said.

“I just want to know that you really are planning on coming out of this alive,” she blurted and he stopped in his tracks, spinning around to look at her.

“Of course I am,” he said with concern written all over his face that she was asking him this a second time.

“Well, you said you were going to give Wicked what they deserve and I remembered what I had told you way back when-“ she started rambling.

“No,no Mads,” he stopped her. “Don’t worry about that. I found something.”

With that he lightly tapped her chin with his knuckles and gave a wink before turning and going on his way to change.

Was he always going to come up with weird new ways to end conversations by leaving her frozen in confusion? What the heck was that? Did he pretend to punch her, is that what that was? He might as well have called her ‘slugger’ too. And since when did he wink? Was it stress? A stroke?

Madison gave up wondering and found her own place to get changed. The boots were a pain to lace and there were a lot of pieces to this get up, she felt like she was carrying twenty extra pounds after she put the vest on.

They really had gotten her a small uniform. It was a bit tight in the chest so she didn’t fully do it up while she didn’t have to. She was getting familiar with what was on it when Gally came over.

“Need some help with that?” he asked her, nodding toward the undone part of her vest.

“Oh, no. I’m gonna leave it like that until we get into the city, it squeezes a little,” she explained as she patted herself down looking for anything she might have missed. She remembered something and looked back up at him with a slight squint and smile. “Wait, are you just trying to put a tracker on me again?”

His expression didn’t change a bit as he held up the small device, but Madison smiled wide. She reached into her bag and pulled one out as well.

“I have one for you too,” she said. “Because it really did work so well the last time.”

Gally looked around and she wondered what he might do that he didn’t want anyone else to see. She already knew they were in the clear and she took the opportunity to catch him off guard. She grabbed the front of his vest and pulled him toward her this time, finding a pocket on his vest to place the tracker in.

She looked up to find him staring down at her intently. She just stared back up at him. It was hard to admit because she had so often been over powered, but she liked when Gally was practically looming over her. Maybe because she knew she was completely safe with him.

He finally looked down and placed the tracker in one of her pockets. His finger stayed hooked on it as he paused.

“Thanks for coming,” he said as his eyes met hers with the softness that was getting less rare to Madison. There was an apology in his eyes as well, probably for the weirdness.

Madison had to wonder, what exactly was he hiding from the others if she and him were just friends? There would be nothing to hide if that were the case. But here he was, making sure the coast was clear before getting close to her.

“There are places I’d rather be,” she said with a teasing tilt to her head. “But no one I’d rather be with.”

She thought she saw his cheeks get darker, but it could just be the shadows from the candle light. He glanced away and put his hands on his hips but dropped them again right away.

“Why don’t you practice with the headset?” he suggested as he picked it up and went to help her put it on. “It takes some getting used to.”

She smiled even though he couldn’t see it behind the full face mask. She’d just have to wait for him to swim out a little further.

Masterlist

@frequentlychangingfandoms @quackquackbi @poulterjonas @crazysheeplyca @pre-google @gladerscake @neilox @thesuitkovian @carp3d1em @cottoncandy-dreamxd @emilyhadenbaker @a-ravenclaw-into-tardis-221b @shardsofstarlight @piscesvancouverite @tooty-fruity

#gally #tmr #tmr gally #gally fanfic #fanfic #the maze runner #maze runner gally

10 notes · View notes

johnkrrasinski · 4 years ago

Text

i dreamt of you all sumer long;

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 2,607

Warning: angst with a happy ending :)

Summary: based on the song ‘betty’ by taylor swift except bucky ain’t no cheater.

a/n: i dedicate this one to all my fellow swifties. betty was an instant favourite as soon as i first heard it when folklore came out. it has been begging for me to write a fanfic inspired by it and now it’s finally out and i’m really happy about it. hope you like it. please leave a comment & like :)

He stood on the doorstep of your house, with a bouquet of pink roses in his hands and a hood over his head. A little tipsy and full of sorry. “You can always turn around," the voice in his head whispered just a few minutes ago when he stopped at a streetlight illuminating his path to the street he had passed a million times before.

But now that he was standing in your front porch light of this cozy little house he had grown to know as if it was his second home before the avalanche this summer was, the feeling was finally sinking in.

“Have you seen Bucky?”

“No, I thought he was with you.”

“Well, he was but then Steve asked me to dance and he just… disappeared.”

“Maybe he went to the bathroom?”

“Yeah, I’ll just try to call him again. Thanks, Nat.”

You searched for him in the halls and within the classrooms but there was no sign of him. You knew that Bucky hated the crowds and he always tried to avoid them. But Bucky knew how much this dance meant to you and how long you had been looking forward to this night. You put on your best dress and makeup for him tonight and you wanted to sway to your favourite song with him. He promised that he would try to make this night an incredible one for you. He seemed to have forgotten that promise because he wasn’t even answering your calls or texts to let you know where he was hiding.

You went to the boys’ locker room and what you saw was a bullet right in the centre of your heart. Bucky had his lips on a classmate of yours’ with his back pressed against the locker.

“Bucky…?”

He drew this moment out in his head after weeks of yearning for the way your lips tasted when you used to kiss in his car and downtown bars. And the pattern of your braids that adorned the view of you under the sunset, and the star-shaped traces of his fingers around your scars.

The only thing he wanted to do was make it up to you.

Bucky was a deer caught in headlights when he heard your meek voice calling out his name. He was too stunned by the act she had just caught him off guard with. He was on his way to somewhere less congested to calm himself down because the crowds always evoked the anxiety in him and Steve had asked her to dance when her favourite song was playing from the far side of the gym when he heard the sound of cries from the locker room. He couldn’t help but approach the sound, he really should’ve kept walking instead of interfering. He saw her sitting on the bench in her dress with a tissue in her hand and sobbed.

“Hey, you okay?”

“James… What are you doing here?” She looked up with her swollen eyes.

“I was on my way to the library but I heard someone was crying so I had to check it out.” He scratched the back of his head. “Maybe I should’ve given you some space instead…”

“No, it’s okay. Thank you, James.” She smiled. “Wanna sit?”

“…Yeah, sure.” He doubtfully accepted the offer. “What happened?”

“Kevin broke up with me over the phone while I was on my way to the dance and he came with Cecilia.”

“Jeez, what a dickhead.”

“Yeah, I knew he and Cecil had been fooling around behind my back for months but he always told me that I was being crazy and that I have to trust him more, and I always believed him until tonight he showed me what a jackass he actually is.”

“Hey, he doesn’t deserve you. You should be with someone who loves you and treats you better.” Bucky was never one to give good advice or comfort to his friends but his mama raised him to be a gentleman and to treat a girl like a queen. She always reminded him that if he ever broke a girl’s heart, she would beat his ass.

She smiled, “thanks, James. You’re really sweet.”

He nodded, “well, I should go. Y/N might be looking for me.”

“…Right, you are with Y/N.” For a moment there, she forgot that he and you were the school’s favourite couple.

“Yeah, so, you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me.”

He got up and started walking toward the exit when he heard her call his name. “James…”

He turned around to see her on her feet already when she threw herself into him and startled him by pressing her lips onto his and pushed him onto the locker as it rattled with the pressure of his body against it. He was too dumbfounded to get her off of him when he heard your voice, “Bucky…?”

He could hear the music emanating from within the house as another of his classmate passed by, bumping his shoulder to get through the entrance. Another one of your stupid friends, he used to say, and you used to chide at him for that. But now he felt like he was the biggest idiot. "You got this, don't be a fucking coward." He braced himself.

So he showed up uninvited and his eyes scanned every corner of the room, seeking for that one face that haunted his dreams all summer long. Will you have me? will you love me? Will you kiss me? The lingering questions loomed over his head like a heavy cloud. What if you told him to go fuck myself instead? If you kissed me, will it patch you broken wings? He was only seventeen, he didn’t know anything but he knew that he missed you.

You greeted each one of your friends who came to your birthday party. You were grateful for another year and your friends whom you consider your second family. You were the type of person who was friends with everyone even though you only considered Natasha as and Wanda as your best friends, your most trusted confidants, they were the ones who stitched you back together after you caught Bucky cheating… Or at least that’s what you thought.

So you invented the whole school to your party and almost everyone came. The jocks, the popular girls, the nerds, even some of your seniors were there too. Your house was packed with high school kids dancing, drinking and laughing… But there was something missing.

He should’ve been there with you. He should’ve been the one standing right beside you when your schoolmates were singing happy birthday to you. He should’ve been there to kiss you and hold you after the party was over and everyone had gone home. But he wasn’t. Because you thought you knew someone and you thought someone loved you but sometimes you’re just enough for them and they would go looking for excitement in somewhere else.

“Y/N! Wait a minute, would you listen to me?!”

“I’ve heard enough. Most importantly… I’ve seen enough.”

“No, you don’t understand, she kissed me! She was crying and, and, I was trying to comfort her and we talked and the next thing I knew she kissed me!” He frantically explained through his ragged breaths.

“But did you stop her?”

He was silent. What the hell was he supposed to say? He couldn’t stop her because he didn’t have it in him to reject a vulnerable woman? That’s how his mama raised him right? To treat every girl with respect and to take care of a girl especially when she’s emotional. Why is being seventeen so confusing?

“I was… I was trying to but-”

“I’ve heard enough of your bullshit, James.” Oh no, you called his first name. Oh man, he had truly fucked up.

“I- I would never cheat on you, y/n! You really think I could do such a thing to you?”

“Not anymore.” You glared at him with all conviction in your heart and your classmates gathered around to watch the quarrel as your heart was bisecting.

“Well, I guess then this is it.” He didn’t mean it. He wished he had fought a little harder for you. To make you stay and hearken. But he gave up too easily. He has always been a lover than a fighter after all, but how he wished he had turned himself into the other one at that moment.

You chatted with Natasha and Wanda in your living room and you giggled at another witty joke Natasha had just said. Natasha and Wanda always had a way of making you giggle even when your mood was contrasting the expressions on your face. The conversation faded into the background as your mind drifted to Bucky’s face. And that’s when you saw him…

Bucky’s breath hitched when he saw you for the first time after all these weeks. He swore he had prepared every word he was going to say to you and how he was going to act when- if You agreed to talk to him. But it was always easier said than done.

He couldn’t decipher the look on your face when your eyes met. Was it longing? Was it contempt? Was it disbelief? You were always difficult to read. God, he wished he was a mind reader sometimes.

Kids started murmuring things from one another because the entire school loved you and Bucky and everyone started talking when you two ended things and that he was caught ‘cheating.’ And now everyone’s jaws dropped when they thought you and Bucky were truly over and that he was the last person that would be invited to your party.

Bucky stopped in his tracks and if the earth could open up and swallow him so he wouldn’t have to deal with his annoying schoolmates and your fury, that wouldn’t be the worst scenario right now. But he was here and he might’ve had been a fool and a recreant once but he was going to fix it now. He can’t keep running away when things get the slightest bit inconvenient.

So he dragged his feet towards you with the bouquet of flowers still in his hands and once he was close enough to you, he sheepishly spoke, “hi.”

“You’ve got some balls to show up here.” You gritted through your teeth.

He gulped, “I wanted to talk… And to wish you, happy birthday.” He handed you the flowers and also a piece of his heart, hoping that you would take him back.

You accepted it. They were lovely but could a bouquet of flowers really mend the wounds he had inflicted? “What do you want, Bucky?”

“Just a few minutes to explain… everything. After this, if you never wanna see me or talk to me ever again, I’ll leave you alone.”

Was it really what you wanted? Curse your heart for always knowing better. But your stubborn head always had its hands on the wheel, so, forever can spare a minute… right? “Okay, let’s talk in the garden.”

Your garden, the place where you and Bucky used to make out when your parents weren’t home and laid under the broad daylight. Was it wise to lead him here? You shushed the whispers of your heart. Memories came swirling through like a hurricane, banging on your door, begging for you to open up and let him back in.

“Go ahead.”

“Okay, I’m just gonna make this quick but um…” He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. Something he always did when he was nervous or didn’t know what to say. He looked down and spoke, “y/n, I am so sorry for what I did to you at the dance. I know I should’ve- God I should’ve stopped her and should’ve stayed with you. I should’ve kept my promise to try harder for you but I didn’t. And I know I’m a fucking idiot but… I’ve missed you. So badly. And I wish I could turn back the time and fixed it but all I can do now is apologize.” Your tears were threatening to fall at the sincerity of his words. You never wanted this. You wished Bucky had known better but to love is to lose your mind and you were at fault for this mess too.

“I understand if you don’t wanna see me around or deal with me again, I came here knowing you’d never take me back because you told me once that cheating was your dealbreaker and what I did was just as shitty but, if this is the last time you’ll ever talk to me, I had to get it out of my chest. That’s all.” He sighed, the gloom in his heart wasn’t withering away but at least the weight in his heard was lighter now that he had come clean. “I’m gonna go now, you should go back to your friends, they are waiting.” He inched his face closer to you to kiss you on the cheek and you were too mesmerized by the blue in his eyes to shun away.

“Goodbye, y/n. And once again, happy birthday.” He turned around to leave, going for the exit door of your garden so he didn’t have to walk past through the crowds and deal with prying questions about their… whatever they are now or what truly happened at the dance. He had made peace with you and that’s all that mattered to him.

He was a few steps away from her when he heard her voice calling his name, “Bucky, wait…”

He stopped and turned to your direction only to catch you narrowing the gap and jumped on him. He was quick to catch her as they used to after a few days of not seeing each other and they both had missed each other terribly. She pressed her lips on top of his and circled her arms around his neck to hold onto him. Because who was she kidding? She had missed him so badly too. She dreamt of him calling her to apologize or to show up at her party but never once did she admit it. And now, her heart was back in her arms and she didn’t want to let him go ever again.

Their kiss with filled of longing as their lips moved like a perfect symphony. One of his hands moved to her face to hold her even closer because everything he desired was coming true and he was desperate to make it stay a reality. Your hands grabbed his hair as your tongues tangled, dancing in sync. You pulled away when the need for air was overwhelming, “I forgive you.” You smiled as your foreheads were pressed together.

He too smiled at that, “does this mean you will take me back?”

You nodded, “it does.” Bucky grinned wider, the bliss in his face was palpable. Oh, how good it felt to see him smile again. Bucky could say the same.

He kissed you once more with his hand cupping your cheek and when he pulled away, he gazed into your beautiful eyes and confessed, “I love you. So much. I never stopped loving you.”

“I love you too.” You meant it with every bit of your heart.

He put you on the ground and you were still intertwined with each other, too in love and too elated to pay attention to the curious peeks and snooping ears. “Let’s go back inside, yeah? It’s cold here. And you should be there with me.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be anyway.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes high school au #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #betty #taylor swift

274 notes · View notes

chickwiththepurpleguitar · 3 years ago

Note

If you're still taking prompts you should do some rebuke and hurt/comfort!!

Sorry this took so long, but luckily there's a lot of it!! Hope you enjoy!

This is part of my All Too Well Splinterverse series, so a direct sequel to something about it felt like home somehow, cause there we are again in the middle of the night, and so casually cruel in the name of being honest. It won't make much sense if you haven't read all three of those.

read on ao3 here!

Bobby gives it three days. Three days where he catches up on missing homework and takes his antibiotics and a lot of naps and feels like a terrible person. And then he calls Luke.

“I fucked up,” he says the second Mrs. Patterson passes over the phone, without so much as bothering to say hello.

“Whoa, uh, okay,” Luke says, and coughs a little awkwardly. “Did you cheat on me or something? Are we breaking up? Cause if we’re breaking up, you gotta at least give me twenty minutes to get over there; no way in hell am I letting you dump me over the phone.”

“No! What? No.” Bobby’s out in the studio for some privacy; he sits up on the couch and runs a hand through his hair, grips the cordless phone a little tighter. “This has nothing to do with you! I fucked up with Reggie.”

“Reggie?” Luke repeats. “Dude, what’d you do? Kick a puppy or something?”

Bobby lets out a sigh that’s really more of a groan. To be fair, he probably could’ve started this conversation with just a tiny bit of context. “ No. I just… I think I hurt his feelings.”

Luke’s quiet for a really long time, in that thoughtful, pensive way he usually only gets when he’s writing a song. It’s usually accompanied by a lot of bouncing and fidgeting, because Luke gets restless easily, and if he can’t expel energy through his mouth, he’s gotta let it out some other way or he’ll implode. It almost brings a smile to Bobby’s lips, just thinking about it. Finally, Luke says, “Can I come over?”

Despite himself, Bobby’s stomach flips at the question. He and Luke have talked almost every day in the last week or so, but they haven’t actually seen each other in person since Luke got out of the hospital. They’ve both been too sick, and then Luke’s been trying to stay home as much as he can, build some trust back up with his mom.

“I might be contagious still,” Bobby warns him, rubbing absently at his chest. “No fever since the day before yesterday, but I’ve still got this cough I can’t shake.”

Luke scoffs, like he knows just as well as Bobby how lame an excuse that is. “Bro, I’m pretty sure I can’t catch the cold I gave you. If you’re not ready, I get it, but… whatever happened with Reggie, I think it’d be easier if we talk face to face.”

Luke pauses, then adds, “Plus, you know… I really do want to see you.”

Bobby has to swallow past a piercing ray of sunshine shooting through his stomach. “I want to see you, too. Okay, come on over, just know my mom’s probably gonna fuss over you.”

“Yeah, well, the last time she saw me, I was unconscious and dying, so I can’t exactly blame her.”

A smile tugs at Bobby’s lips. He and Luke may have gotten together under the strangest circumstances— and “together” is still sort of a loose term; mostly, they’ve just made out a couple times and Luke gave Bobby bronchitis— but at least they have each other now. More than that, even— they both have their families back.

“Think your mom will be cool?” Bobby checks. “With you coming over, I mean? I know she’s been keeping you on kind of a tight leash. And I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“She’s barely met you,” Luke points out.

“Yeah, and the one time she did, she called me a kidnapper. And something in French that you refuse to translate.”

“Purely for your own good.” Luke’s teasing grin is audible, even over the phone. “Listen, Bobbers, that was an emotional day for us all, and Emily Patterson is hardly well-known for being calm and rational under stressful circumstances. But once I sat her down and explained everything to her, I think the ‘saved me from dying’ thing made up for the ‘hid me in your garage for two months’ thing. She likes you just fine.”

Bobby’s not entirely sure he believes him, but there’s no point in pushing it. “Well, if you need me to come over there instead, just let me know.” He starts to swing his legs off the couch, bending over to search for his shoes, but has to pause to cough into his elbow a few times, his chest twinging.

“Half an hour,” Luke insists. “And drink some tea while you wait for me, I don’t like that you’re still coughing.”

Bobby grumbles noncommittally, lays back down on the couch. “Just get over here, Patterson. I can’t deal with your mother henning over the phone.”

Luke breathes out a laugh, and it might just be the most beautiful sound Bobby’s ever heard. “Love you, too, baby.”

***

Luke hangs up the phone and immediately takes stock of himself.

The last week, living back at home with his mom and dad again, has not been nearly as bad as he thought it would be. Maybe he’s gotten more patient since running away from home. Maybe his parents have gotten a little more perspective. Maybe all three of them just needed a few months apart and a serious wake-up call to start seeing things through each other’s eyes.

Whatever the reason, Luke and his mom haven’t fought once since he moved back home, and his dad even told Luke he’d like to come to one of his shows once Sunset Curve starts playing again. They’ve had to establish a lot of new boundaries, the three of them, and quite a few ground rules— if Luke weren’t sick, he’d be in trouble, his mom said, but she thought his hospital stay and cracked ribs were punishment enough— but so far things have been good. And Luke would very much like to keep them that way.

So, he stands in front of the bathroom mirror and takes a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth. The breath is free of congestion, doesn’t make him cough or hurt his ribs anymore. His face is a little red— purely just because talking to Bobby these days makes him blush like crazy— so he splashes some cool water on his face and waits until the flush fades from his cheeks before he heads out to the living room.

Emily’s sitting on the couch with her knitting, an old episode of The Brady Bunch playing low on the TV. She looks up and smiles when he enters, and Luke’s skin crawls a little. She gets this look on her face sometimes, when she looks at him now. Like she can’t believe how lucky she is. Like she still sort of expects to wake up and find she’s lost him. Again.

It makes Luke feel all sorts of guilty.

“Off the phone?” she asks him, a little redundantly, as he hands over the cordless. “How’s Robert?”

“Bobby’s feeling better,” Luke says honestly. He sticks his thumbs through his belt loops and rocks back and forth on his heels, standing awkwardly in front of the couch. “Can I go to his tonight? Something happened between him and Reggie, I was gonna help him out.”

Emily frowns, but doesn’t outright refuse, or accuse him of lying so that he can go out and play a club or something, like she might have three months ago. Maybe she really does trust him more now, or maybe she just likes Reggie enough to put aside her suspicions, but all she says is, “How are you feeling?”

Luke takes another slow breath, letting her hear how it doesn’t so much as catch in his throat. “No cough, no fever. Ribs only hurt when I get out of breath, but I’ll bike slowly, and we won’t be playing or anything. I’ll leave my guitars here, even.”

He sees it in his mom’s expression— the trust in him, the complete and utter belief she has that he’s telling her the truth. It’s something he might’ve taken advantage of, before. But for the first time in his life, he has absolutely no desire to lie to her.

Emily gently lays her knitting down on the coffee table in front of her and gestures Luke forward, stretching out a hand. He obediently leans down to let her brush his fringe aside and feel his forehead.

She hums approvingly a moment later and lets him go. “Ask your father to drive you. Will you be home for dinner, or are you spending the night?”

“I’m not sure,” Luke says, “but I’ll call around five either way?”

“Perfect.” She gives him that smile again— that look — and Luke turns away before he can think too hard about how much he doesn’t deserve it.

His dad is quiet on the drive over, but he lets Luke fiddle with the radio and kick his feet up on the dashboard, and doesn’t protest when Luke rolls the window up and down every five minutes. He parks the car in Bobby’s driveway, right outside the studio, but doesn’t shut the engine off. Something tells Luke to linger an extra moment or two before getting out.

“You need any money?” Mitch asks, finally.

No, but I’ll take some, Luke would’ve said, before, and then probably blown it on junk food or guitar picks or something. Instead, he shakes his head, leg bouncing, says, “Nah, dad, we’re just gonna be talking.”

Mitch nods and leans forward to peer through the windshield up at the studio. Luke follows his gaze. He can only imagine what his dad must be thinking: So this is where my son was living for two months because he didn’t feel safe at home.

“I’ll call home to let you know when to pick me up,” Luke says, desperate to fill the silence, and reaches for the door handle. “See you later, Dad.”

He catches half a glimpse of his father’s face as he heads up the drive: Mitch looks pensive and sad, and at least twenty years older than he really is.

Luke drags in a breath, and tries not to feel too guilty.

He’s barely rapped his knuckles against the studio door when it’s yanked open from the inside and Luke gets a faceful of t-shirt as Bobby tugs him into a strong-armed hug.

“Hey!” Luke laughs breathlessly. “I missed you, too.”

Bobby presses his face into Luke’s neck, tightening his hold. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, baby.” Luke rubs his back, trying to follow his instincts without getting too self-conscious. He hasn’t seen Bobby in a while, and somehow using pet names and terms of endearment was easier over the phone. Holding him and letting himself be held was easier when he was sick and hurting and had an easy excuse. But he doesn’t want Bobby to think Luke loves him any less, or that Luke’s ashamed of him or something, just because they’re both healthy.

Still. “We should get inside,” he murmurs, lips pressed into Bobby’s hair. “My dad’s kinda sitting in his car watching us, and I can feel him getting uncomfortable.”

Bobby snorts, his shoulders shaking under Luke’s touch. But then he nods and pulls away, swiping the back of his hand across his face; Luke thinks he catches the glisten of tears.

Inside the studio, with the doors shut tight and the sound of Luke’s dad’s car disappearing down the street, Luke sits Bobby down on the couch and says, “So. Reggie.”

Bobby’s quiet as he tells the story, his head ducked low and his hands clasped tightly between his legs. Luke keeps a hand on Bobby’s back, rubbing gentle circles as he listens to Bobby talk.

When he goes quiet, Luke takes a minute to breathe and think, before he carefully summarizes, “So… Reggie’s mad at you cause you didn’t wanna tell Alex about your headaches?”

“Reggie’s mad at me,” Bobby corrects, his voice breathy with exhaustion, “because I didn’t wanna tell him either. If he hadn’t caught me in the middle of one, I probably wouldn’t have said anything at all.”

“How come?” Luke tries for gentle, but he’s not sure he quite makes the mark. “You had no trouble telling me.”

“You’re easy,” Bobby grumbles. “I didn’t exactly have to try hard to make a good first impression. Doesn’t matter so much if you think I’m weak.”

“And it does with Reggie?” He doesn’t bother asking about Alex. Luke loves the guy, but he knows better than anyone how bitey and judgmental Alex can get. How slow to trust. Luke doesn’t much love showing weakness in front of Alex either. But Reggie… “Bro, Reggie just wants to be helpful. He’d care that you’re hurting, not that you weren’t totally together all the time. He wouldn’t think you’re weak.” He adds as an afterthought, “...and Alex would get over it.”

Bobby huffs out a laugh. He chokes on it, then turns away from Luke to cough into his fist. Luke rubs his back, feeling the tremors that the coughing fit causes, and winces in sympathy as Bobby takes a slow breath and rubs his chest like it hurts. Luke knows the feeling.

Acting on instinct, Luke reaches over and brushes Bobby’s hair back, pressing a palm to his forehead. He doesn’t feel warm, thank god, but he still leans into the touch, his eyes closing in relief, even as he mumbles, “Told you, I don’t have a fever.”

“I know,” Luke says softly, and really means, I’m sorry. “You want my advice, about Reggie?”

Bobby gives a tiny nod, makes a soft whining sound in the back of his throat that Luke is pretty sure is supposed to be a yes.

“You don’t have to try so hard. Reggie and Alex both, they… they want to be your friends. You just gotta let them.” He runs his hand through Bobby’s hair in slow, gentle strokes. “And with Reggie, a sincere apology goes a long way.”

Bobby nods again and slumps over to lay his head on Luke’s shoulder. “I’ll call him in the morning. For tonight…” Luke feels him tense, but when Bobby lifts his eyes to Luke’s, they’re open and vulnerable and honest, as he says, “Will you stay?”

Luke’s heart does a happy little flip-flop inside his chest. “Of course I will.” He presses a kiss to Bobby’s head and reluctantly pushes himself up off the couch. “Lemme just go call my folks and let them know I’m sleeping over. If I’m not back in ten, assume your mom’s kidnapped me to test out that aromatherapy treatment she kept going on about. And I’m bringing you tea.”

Bobby protests out of principle, calls him a nuisance, and a worrywart and a nag, but Luke feels Bobby’s smile on his back all the way out the door.

***

Reggie drops his bike along the wall beneath the Pattersons’ front window and skips up to the door, swallowing back the nerves drying his throat before quickly jabbing his finger against the doorbell.

Its chime echoes long and loud, enough that it makes Reggie flinch, makes him pick at his fingers and start to think that maybe coming here wasn't the best idea after all.

Because Luke’s still recovering. Luke’s got a boyfriend now. Luke shouldn’t have to spend time and energy worrying about Reggie and all his problems.

But before Reggie can turn around and leave, the door opens, and Luke’s mom smiles at him.

“Reginald! How are you, dear?”

“Very well, thank you!” Reggie smiles politely, bouncing on his heels a little. “How are you, Mrs. P?”

“I’m just fine, Reginald.” She leans against the doorway, her expression turning a little amused. “Did you need something, dear? Luke’s not home.”

“Oh, he’s not?” Reggie’s heart sinks. He clears his throat a little. “Um, is he… do you know when he’ll be back?”

“Probably not until morning. He’s staying at Robert’s tonight.”

“He’s sleeping over?” he repeats, surprised. Mitch and Emily Patterson don’t seem like the kind of parents who’d be particularly chill about their son spending the night at his boyfriend’s house.

It only then occurs to Reggie that maybe they don’t know Bobby is Luke’s boyfriend…

“I have the phone number,” Mrs. Patterson says, oblivious to Reggie’s conundrum, “if you needed to get in touch with Luke.”

“Oh. Oh, no, it’s okay.” Reggie fixes his smile back into place, swallows thick disappointment. “I’ll head over to Bobby’s, or… or I’ll catch Luke another time. Thanks, Mrs. P!”

He thinks she might start to say something else, but Reggie doesn’t hang around to listen. He scoops up his bike and disappears down the drive, pedaling as hard as he can so the adrenaline will overtake his complex jumble of emotions.

He shouldn’t bother Luke. He doesn’t really need him. He’d just been lonely, and his parents were fighting, and getting out of the house seemed like a really good idea at the time. Plus, he’s been sulking for days now since he yelled at Bobby, and Luke somehow always knows how to cheer Reggie up, even if Reggie wasn’t exactly planning on telling him what’s wrong.

But Luke’s with Bobby. Reggie can’t interrupt them. Luke will almost undoubtedly be mad at Reggie if he finds out Reggie shouted at his boyfriend. Bobby’s probably mad at him already.

As far as Reggie knows, Bobby might just turn him away on sight. Before Reggie even has half a chance to apologize.

Despite this thought process, Reggie’s bike skids to a stop on familiar concrete, bringing him to the realization that he rode to the studio without even thinking about it.

One of the doors has been left open. He can smell popcorn and spices carried out on the wind. He can hear Luke’s laughter, Bobby coughing, a Rolling Stones album playing softly in the background.

It makes Reggie’s throat feel tight, makes it hurt to breathe. He’s so… lonely. He wants what they have, and knows he can’t get it.

He should just go home.

He starts to turn away, but Luke’s voice stops him, calling, “Reg, hey! What are you doing here, man?”

Reggie swallows and awkwardly turns back to face the studio, where Luke’s lounging in the doorway grinning at him, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Reggie manages a tiny smile of his own that he can only hope is convincing. “Hey, Luke. You, uh… your mom told me you’d be here.”

Reggie starts to add, But I should probably just go, but the words die on his tongue when Bobby appears over Luke’s shoulder, looking pale and tired, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders up at his ears.

“Hey, Reg,” Bobby says, low and gruff.

Reggie swallows, his hands tightening their grip around the handlebars of his bike. “I just… I wanted to talk to Luke?” he says simply, which isn’t totally a lie. “But I can go… if I’m not welcome.”

“What?” Bobby’s expression crumples, and he pushes past Luke to step forward, toward Reggie. “Reg, no, I— of course you’re welcome here. You’re always—” He breaks off, glancing over his shoulder at Luke, who gestures encouragingly. Bobby sighs and turns back, squaring his shoulders. “Reggie, I need to apologize to you. Again.”

Reggie gapes, baffled. “Wha— I— Bobby, no, I should be apologizing to you!”

“Me? Why?”

“Cause I yelled at you.”

“Yeah, but you were right!” Bobby takes another step forward, close enough that he can reach out a hand to hover over Reggie’s, still gripping tight to his handlebars. “Reggie, I’m not good at asking for help. I’m not used to being seen as weak and not having that be a bad thing. But I’m done lying, and I’m done hiding things. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, Reg. And I do want to be your friend.” He takes a deep breath, shoots Luke another quick look, and then says softly, “I’m gonna start being better, Reggie. I promise. I’m so sorry I ever made you feel like I didn’t trust you. Like I didn’t like you. I do. I really do.”

Reggie’s left speechless, and a little choked. He stands there for a few moments, his mouth working but no sound coming out, and stares at Luke and Bobby both, searching their faces for any hint of a sign from either of them that Bobby’s kidding or making fun of him.

Reggie knows Bobby doesn’t mean it�� liking him — the way Reggie wants him to, the way Reggie likes him back. But it still puts a lump in his throat, to hear Bobby say it at all — Bobby who never admits to liking anyone!

Reggie doesn’t realize he’s started crying until he tastes salt on his lips and Luke bounds forward to pull Reggie into his arms. That seems to break the floodgates open, then; Reggie lets his bike fall to the concrete with a clatter, buries his face in Luke’s shirt, and sobs.

Luke doesn’t ask why he’s crying, or tell him to stop. He just holds Reggie tight, and when Reggie chokes out, “I was just so lonely, ” whispers, Shh, it’s okay, I know.

Somehow, they end up inside the studio on the folded-out couch. Luke gently pushes Reggie to lie down in the middle, and then immediately climbs in next to him, pulling a mountain of blankets over them both.

After a few moments of awkward hesitation, Bobby joins them on Reggie’s other side, lowering himself gently onto the mattress and curling up so that Reggie feels his warmth without them actually touching.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Reggie gasps out, his tears starting to slow.

“I wish you’d do it more often.” Bobby gives him a tiny smile and slowly slides his hand into Reggie’s. “You can’t get rid of me, man. I got you.”

Taglist: @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @teenagedirtbag-dot-jpeg @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @shrimp-colours @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas @molinapattersons @julieandthequeers @joyandthephantoms @it-tastes-like-lizard @jatpfs

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfiction #fanfiction #my fics #prompt fill #500 followers aaaah!!!#reggie peters #bobby shaw #bobby wilson #luke patterson #rebuke #peterpatter #lukebobby #boggie #angst #sickfic #hurt/comfort

18 notes · View notes

strawberrysoup · 5 years ago

Text

Let’s Review || Chapter 21

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-consensual&dark sexual situations, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat more warnings: you know what? there’s really not anything. except like... this ones gonna hurt 🤙🤙 good luck

read this: fuck guys this chapter was draining and insane, please reblog and comment if you liked it. pleeeease.

The anxiety had been building for a week now, but as the final day of Penny’s stay in the tower progressed Peter found himself practically vibrating with panic. He’d been trying, desperately, to make Tony change his mind—he’d spent an entire day not talking to the man, had screamed and raged against him, he’d cried and begged, offered anything in exchange for Penny to stay. The older man had held his ground remarkably, gently admonishing him for all of his misbehavior and brattiness and explaining, every time, that it was what was best for Penny.

In all fairness, Peter realized about half way through the week there was no hope for convincing Tony, but he had to keep up the behavior lest he rouse suspicion. Thankfully it wasn’t exactly hard to be depressed and angry and petty, not when Tony was endangering his sister.

The garbled piece of technology in his pocket felt heavier than ever, in his head the iridium electrodes were ten thousand degrees. Peter didn’t want to use it—kind of. He didn’t want to make Tony sad or angry, but he kind of did? What he knew he wanted was for Penny to escape, with or without him. Any disappointment or anger would be worth it, he’d revel in it just a bit, and Penny would be safe.

“Come here baby.”

His feet moved before he even thought of it, trailing over to where Tony was standing at the bar with a finger of scotch in a tumbler. They were getting ready to head down to the soldier’s floor, freshly showered after a day in the lab and just waiting for it to be time. Peter didn’t understand why they couldn’t just go early, why did they have to wait all day anyway? He could’ve been with Penny hours ago, he could’ve helped her escape hours ago. The clock was ticking and his nerves were rising.

“You are freaking out,” Tony told him pointedly as he drew Peter into his arms once he was close enough, tucking the boy against his chest, “I can feel your brain going nuts. What do you need baby?”

“Penny.” It wasn’t a belligerent or angry response, just short and desperate.

Tony sighed heavily, weight settling on his shoulders at the teenager’s words. He’d been conflicted for the last week, ever since Steve told him the ‘plan’. The plan to take Penny a thousand miles away and tuck her away inside of a cabin until they could condition her to behave. He understood the method to the madness—he’d considered spiriting them away before too. But the keyword was them. He had considered taking them both off to some secluded cabin. It was the same sensation Tony had gotten when he decided he would steal Penny away along with Peter; they were supposed to be together.

But that wasn’t to say he didn’t see the necessity.

Tony was fully aware that Penny was not adapting the same way his boy was. Where Peter had fallen into tolerance and was moving towards acceptance and potentially even appreciation, Penny was still actively resisting most of the time. Steve revealed that she’d started to break after reaching her pain threshold, there had been small cracks in the surface and the soldiers were managing to pry their way through the gaps. Had it been Peter, they would’ve had him calm and docile and perfectly behaved by now—but Penny was a completely different animal.

It was slow going though, agonizingly slow. And her reluctance caused a correlating reluctance in Peter, who generally matched her opinions and emotions but at about a quarter of the level of passion. Not to say Peter wasn’t passionate about things, the kid was, but Tony still wondered if the teenager realized the gravity of what had happened the way Penny did.

For all of his intelligence, Peter was still young. His ability to think logically was great, but his immaturity hindered him; Penny had shielded him, a lot, from the realities of the world. The idea that he was with Tony for the rest of his life likely didn’t mean much, it was a concept but Peter didn’t have any way to conceptualize the future like that. His brain was perpetually stuck in the present, just like most kids his age.

Penny understood consequences. She understood harsh realities and disadvantages and unescapable struggle; she’d lived it for so long. Three jobs, no bed, no insurance, no degree, no— Tony had to stop himself. Penny understood suffering in a way she hadn’t allowed Peter to, had protected him from. Penny knew what forever meant and she knew it was crippling. Peter was in the early chapters, still in his exposition and living in the moment. His sister was at the end of her story, a tragic dénouement of everything she’d ever known.

Peter had retained his rose-colored glasses, whereas Penny’s were smashed when she was thirteen. Hard stop, no condolences for the loss of her childhood—they were obliterated when she could barely comprehend what life was and the difference between the pair was palpable.

If they kept the siblings together, Penny would never adapt beyond protecting Peter. She wouldn’t be able to see the future as an opportunity versus a loss, not while she felt like she had failed him. Seeing Tony touch him, talk to him, look at him was enough to make Penny fall into a pit of existential dread over her failure to protect her brother. The separation had to happen; him and Peter needed to develop away from the soldiers and Penny—there was no other viable solution.

The way Tony’s arm tightened around his back for just a moment, a quick reassuring squeeze, told Peter that despite the silence the man hadn’t changed his mind. He wouldn’t relent. He wouldn’t fucking fix it.

“Here, you know what? Let’s peek in,” Tony gestured towards the TV with the tumbler, tugging Peter around the bar to stand just behind the sofa, “JARVIS, how’s Penny and the Popsicles?”

“Ms. Parker has just changed clothes and is awaiting your arrival, sir,” the AI responded smoothly, “shall I pull up the camera feed?”

“Yeah, throw it on the TV,” Tony wrapped his arms around Peter and pulled him into his chest once again, resting his cheek against the side of his head while they focused on the screen, where Penny was walking into the living room.

She was wearing a long sleeved shirt that dusted her knuckles and leggings, her masses of hair pulled into a bobble on the top of her head. The camera was focused on the living room as a whole, angled to see the front of the couch and armchairs, Penny’s daybed just barely visible in the corner. Bucky was sitting on the armchair, phone in his flesh hand while Steve skirted the top corner of the screen, walking around the kitchen and dining room.

Peter clocked that something was amiss immediately. Penny was hugging herself around the waist, shoulders hunched towards her ears as she crossed the room. They were able to catch her profile as she came to a stop in front of Bucky and waited until she had his attention, a hint of the expression on her face something Peter recognized to be heart wrenching. When he put his phone down and sat up slightly, looking almost concerned, Penny immediately tucked herself into his lap—of her own volition. Bucky was visibly in disbelief, arms snapping up to help settle her, tucking her close when she rolled even further onto her hip and pressed her chest against his. She went so far as to press her face against the slope of his neck, arms tucking around the back of his neck and shoulders tightly.

Bucky had followed all of her movements valiantly, helping her adjust and tugging her knees to rest between his thigh and the arm rest. Steve even crept further into the corner of the screen, looking at Bucky with raised eyebrows and signing something with one hand while absently holding up a pitcher with the other.

There was something crawling under Peter’s skin; he could feel it slithering over his muscle tissue and insinuating itself into his being. A sharp tremble ran down his back and he pulled away from Tony, pretending to turn to wipe away tears when instead he was trying to get a handle on his shaking. He couldn’t identify it, didn’t know what was going on, it felt like his blood was bubbling in his veins and he tamped down the shiver fiercely before Tony could tug him back into his chest.

“See baby, Penny’s fine, she’s just waiting for us,” he murmured gently against the side of Peter’s head—Tony didn’t know, didn’t recognize how sad she looked— “I know this is going to be hard. It’s gonna be hard for all of us, but Penny won’t be gone long baby. They’ll be back before we know it.”

Penny would break before they knew it. Penny would break. Penny would shatter. Something viscous was festering in his chest, constricting his organs. His heart was pounding but blood was oozing rather than pumping through his veins, it felt thick and congested—he felt sick, he was going to puke but Tony was shuffling him towards the elevator already. Peter swallowed hard, allowing himself to be ushered inside while the man followed behind.

“Soldiers’ floor, J.”

“Of course, sir.”

Tony cursed before the elevator doors closed, sticking his arm out, “I forgot Penny’s present, wait here baby.”

And all of a sudden the blood was rushing through Peter’s veins. He didn’t even think—the moment Tony was out of sight he ripped the piece of tech from his pocket and opened the tiny pocket that allowed whatever little physical maintenance that was necessary for an AI enhanced elevator. He couldn’t have imagined such a pristine opportunity, hadn’t had any idea how he was going to execute his plan.

“Mr. Parker, I do not—”

“Sorry JARVIS,” he gasped, on the verge of a panic attack as he hastily connected the circuit board to the elevator system and, by proxy, JARVIS’ system.

Peter had just closed the panel before Tony returned and the teenager found himself gasping for breath, leaning against the railing in the elevator. Tony sighed upon seeing his distress, obviously believing it was a result of Penny’s impending departure—it wasn’t like JARVIS could explain otherwise, Peter glanced towards the red dot in the corner of the elevator, once again apologizing to the AI in his mind.

When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, he stepped into the foyer where the soldiers’ front door was located and waited, shaking, to see what happened when Tony stepped off. He let the man shuffle him along, listening for the sound of the elevator doors behind them. Tony didn’t seem to notice that it stayed in place, open, an anomaly for either of the tower residents’ personal elevators.

The front door opened and Penny burst through, immediately jumping up to wrap her arms around Peter’s shoulders to tug him into the biggest hug she was capable of. He could feel her shaking, Tony’s hand rested on the small of his back and the soldiers were standing inside the apartment, waiting to welcome them in. Peter reeled with scenarios, looking to the side at Tony’s face, his eyes. He let his eyes trail over him for just a few seconds before shifting.

He made eye contact with Steve for all of four seconds before sweeping Penny up and darting back to the still open elevator, “JARVIS! Down, now! Fast!”

He slid through the doors with Penny clutched to his chest just before the door closed and the elevator started to descend at the fastest rate that was safe for unaided, standing human transportation.

“PALTI CHAYIM WHAT DID YOU DO?!” She was screaming in Hebrew, words flying from her mouth so fast he couldn’t even keep up—something about stupid, why, what they’ll, safe—

“PENNY—Fuck! You have to run! Stop screaming, listen! When we get to the floor you run!” He shouted back, trying not to shake her too hard while they continued to descend uncomfortably fast, “I don’t know how long it’ll work!”

“Peter why did you do this?” Penny was sobbing into his chest while he struggled to get them both to their feet, “Palti Chayim, I—Fuck! Fuck—”

Her hands dug into his shirt roughly and she shoved him into the back corner of the elevator, falling against him just a moment later. Peter’s arm lashed around her waist when she almost fell while trying to turn, her back pressing him further into the corner and he realized the elevator was starting to slow. Penny’s hands gripped the railings to each side, trapping him in the corner. His eyes snapped to the blue dots over the doors and his heart seized in his chest—they were only on floor 35, for the elevator to have slowed so much they would’ve needed to be on the 20th floor minimum to stop on the 1st floor at the current rate of deceleration.

JARVIS was back in full control, carefully dropping their speed until it came to a complete stop on the 12th floor. Penny’s body locked up like she’d gone into rigor mortis when it started to ascend again, her breathing coming in frantic pants. It was going up at the usual clip and Peter realized that every second it took made his heart beat faster in his chest. He was light headed, dread setting in.

Tony had told him multiple times that anticipation was the real punishment sometimes, the overwhelming paranoia and fear and desolation. His thoughts immediately began to spiral and his knees weakened slightly.

“When it stops you stay in here,” Penny’s voice shook as she spoke.

“Wha—”

“Shut your mouth!” She screamed, once again defaulting to Hebrew, “Be quiet. Do as I say. Do. Not. Move.”

“Penina—”

“Stop.”

Peter swallowed down a sob, head dropping to rest on her shoulder. The passing of floors was marked by a soft tone and between the two of them, they were barely able to remain standing when the silence between beeps started to lengthen. Penny’s grip on the railing slipped, her hands sweaty from sheer panic, her knees just barely holding up the extra weight. His arm was still slung around her waist, but his hold was too slack to keep her up despite the strength with which he clenched her shirt in his fist.

“Stay.” Penny managed to choke the order out just seconds before the door opened, a panicked sound escaping her lips when she realized her legs weren’t moving the way she needed them to.

It just amped the anticipation, Penny’s brief but agonizing hesitation before she forced her limbs to react and lead her out of the elevator. He nearly gagged on a sob, watching as she put her hands up and out to her sides, just slightly. Penny was vibrating with fear, her fingers almost blurry from a distance.

“P-Please—” Peter couldn’t see them, they must’ve been standing to the side of the doors, in front of the second elevator, “it’s m-my fault.”

“No—!” He launched himself forward, only for his sister to turn faster than he thought she could move.

Penny had never laid a violent hand on him, but the way she shoved him back into the elevator bordered on it, “SHUT UP!”

He’d never noticed the way Penny’s voice cracked when she screamed before. It had always been there, he was aware in the back of his mind, but he’d never really noticed. It hurt in a special way, when the bottom seemed to fall out of her words until she could rally through the rasp. Penny had been smoking some combination of weed and cigarettes for almost as long as he could remember—had she been fourteen or fifteen? He was only eight, maybe nine at the time. Did her voice crack like that before?

His thoughts spiraled once again while Penny turned forward again, putting herself between his seated self and the three men’s towering forms, “I’m his guardian. His actions fall on me, not him. I should’ve stopped him, I shouldn’t—if I had stayed inside t-to wait, it wouldn’t have—”

“Babydoll,” Steve sighed, shifting to step closer but stopping short when a full body cringe racked her form and her hands lifted to cover her face, just for a second before she clasped them tightly in front of her chest, “Penny…”

“You—you can just… p-punish me, okay?” Her voice was shaking as badly as her body, hitching every few words and she shuddered violently for a moment before lowering herself onto her knees, “H-He’s just a k-kid, I should’ve—”

“Okay, precious, come here,” Tony scooped her up under her arms, bringing her back to her feet before tucking her into his chest, “I know that this is just what you do. It’s a compulsion, trying to take the blame like this? But we both know nothing you did could’ve stopped him. He grabbed you and ran before Steve could get to you, sweetheart.”

“N-No, I—”

“We had audio and video in the elevator the whole time, doll,” Steve cut her off gently, “JARVIS was translating to Tony’s phone. We know what you said, and we know what he said.”

A choked sob escaped Penny and her fingers dug violently into Tony’s old t-shirt, her nails scratching him through the fabric. Bucky immediately darted forward and snatched her out of Tony’s arms, spinning them around until Peter couldn’t see her around the bulk of his body. It had been preventative—if they got to her before she did damage, there didn’t have to be a punishment. He could see her legs kicking and the sound of her crying but not much else.

“Peter,” his attention snapped to Tony, who’d stepped directly in front of him, “we’re going to go inside, everyone is going to calm down, and we’re going to have a good night. Do you understand?”

His breath froze in his chest for just a moment, whooshing out when the man crouched to look him dead in the eye, “are you willing to calm down so that you can be with Penny this evening?”

It took him a half second longer than he intended to nod, murmuring a quiet response. He was rewarded by a small smile and Tony helping him up, the older man immediately wrapping an arm around his waist once he was on his feet.

There wouldn’t be any opportunity for escape, of course, whether Tony was physically holding him or not. He’d give the kid one thing: he never thought Peter would get so close. Never thought Peter could get so close. He wondered how long he’d been working on that particular piece of tech—something that overrode JARVIS’s response to his orders. It only worked in the one elevator and it was corrected within two minutes of the breach, but it was still incredibly impressive. Especially considering Tony had been very careful not to provide him with any parts or pieces that could facilitate a runaway attempt.

Inside the apartment, Bucky was still cradling Penny tightly to his chest but now in the same position that they’d seen on the security camera. Tony could feel Peter tremble against his side at the sight, his chest jumping with a suppressed sob. There were a pair of kittens worming their way around Bucky’s ankle, the little white one particularly loud in its’ efforts to be noticed.

“It gets upset when Penny’s upset,” Steve stated from behind, startling Peter for just a moment when he walked around the pair and towards the chair, “here you go, doll.”

The super soldier scooped the tiny cat into his hand and deposited it right against the exposed crook of Penny’s neck before swiping the orange one up as well, setting it on the arm of the couch a few feet away.

“That one doesn’t?” Tony questioned, guiding them over to the couch and pressing Peter sit before sitting next to him.

“It doesn’t like to be touched as much,” the blond answered, already walking towards the dining room again, “food should be up soon.”

Tony knew that Steve was doing his best to distance himself at the moment, lest he lose his temper on Peter. He was pissed, practically steaming in irritation and honestly Tony appreciated the lengths he was going to. The orange cat let out a squeaky meow from where it sat, looking hesitant to be on the same surface as other people. It very carefully hopped from the arm of the couch to a seat cushion, toeing the very edge before backing away nervously.

“Here, I’ll put you down,” Peter murmured quietly, reaching over and carefully picking the kitten up, relieved when it didn’t protest and sat it on the ground gently.

“Do you need a cat too, baby?” Tony nosed his temple gently before pressing a kiss there, watching Peter smile when the orange cat went up onto its back legs to knead its little paws against his ankle.

The teenager reached over and picked the kitten back up when it continued to meow and scratch at him, obviously looking for attention. As soon as it was on his lap it started to squirm, but only until his hands weren’t wrapped around it. The little thing was sniffing around him curiously, stumbling across his lap on unsteady paws.

A tone sounded near the front door, alerting them that the food had arrived. Steve was quick to respond but Penny didn’t even shift and Peter certainly didn’t look much inclined to move while the kitten was, adorably and painfully, clawing its way up the front of his shirt.

“How about we eat around the coffee table,” Steve suggested as he walked into the living room with two large, brown paper bags full of food, having evidently read Tony’s mind, “Tone, can you get everything out? I’ll go grab plates.”

Tony started absently digging through the bags and pulling out the styrofoam containers. He was definitely checking what was in everything and stacking it around the table depending on who’d be eating what, but his eyes were mostly locked on Peter. The kitten had made its way up to his shoulder and was furiously rubbing its face against his cheek, purring up a storm.

“It usually only lets Penny touch it,” Bucky’s voice rumbled from the armchair, his eyes also focused on Peter and the cat while his hands absently roved over Penny’s still form, “even then not for long.”

“Maybe it has discerning taste,” Tony reached out and tried to scratch it under the chin, only to jerk back when it lashed out with sharp little kitten claws, “exquisite tastes, I guess.”

“It’s cute but those claws are sharp as hell,” Steve returned with plates and silverware, two six packs balanced on top and a few bottles of soda tucked under his arm, “Bucky would be covered in scars if we didn’t heal.”

“I was trying to play with it, I didn’t think it would turn into a psycho killer and go for the jugular.”

“Says the psycho killer who regularly goes for the jugular,” Tony muttered under his breath, making Steve and Bucky both snort in amusement while Peter wondered if an actual ice cube going down his spine could make more goosebumps than that statement, “why not get it declawed?”

Steve and Bucky exchanged looks, both cautiously glancing towards where Penny’s face was tucked into the brunet’s neck, “it’s not—”

“Declawing a cat is cruel,” Penny’s voice was watery and angry, “they’ll be in pain for the rest of their lives. You want them to stop scratching but all it does is make them angry and mean and they’ll spend the rest of their lives hating you. Making your life as miserable as possible until you give up and either euthanize them or give them away. It’s what you get for ruining their fucking lives.”

#steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #steve rogers x oc x bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark!tony stark #dark!fic #dead dove do not eat #let's review chapter 21 #let's review

315 notes · View notes

ka-za-ri · 4 years ago

Text

Personal Assistant Pt. 6

Oh wow, y’all still here? The filth hasn’t driven you away yet? Well, that’s good to hear bc we’re about to get real nasty up in here. Taglist at the end.

Part 1: here Part 2: here Part 3: here Part 4: here Part 5: here Part 7: here Crossposted to Ao3: here

Pairing: Barbatos x Reader Lucifer x Diavolo x Reader Wordcount: 5,300 ish Genre: Dirty, filthy smut Tags: Multiple Orgasms, Demon sex, Rough sex, Endless sex, Size Kink, Double Penetration, Double Vaginal Penetration, Mirror Sex, threesome Summary: An emergency arises and you must leave the office to assist a sister company in dire need.

Business Trip

The best time to break a human was after they had been lulled into a sense of false security.

Lucifer was oddly gentle the following weeks after having shared you with Diavolo. His demands felt less taxing on your body whenever he asked you to service him. He seemed to be more open to expressing how good you made him feel; and that fact alone made your heart sing. It gave your body time to recover from how roughly you were taken that night. Even after a whole weekend of rest, he could tell there was a bit of a limp in your gait.

The attraction you felt towards him continued to intensify when you noticed just how gentle of a lover he could be when he wanted to be. You were so used to being pushed to your limits every week that the momentary break in how you were treated left you feeling so appreciated by him. Even if it was just an illusion; you wanted to just believe he cared.

You fell into a lull of comfort, expecting love making and not just a fuck out of him. His recent behavior had shown you that he was capable of having feelings for you. Or, at least that was what you had assumed. With your thoughts being clouded by your emotions, you deluded yourself into thinking that he was doting on you because he loved you as much as you loved him.

If only you knew he was only biding his time until you were in the perfect state to break.

Emergencies never happened in the office. Not when Lucifer was in charge at least. So, when you got into work one day and he was angrily speaking to someone on the phone, you knew something major had happened. You waited patiently for him to finish before asking what happened and if there was any way you could help.

“I need you to go somewhere for me. Consider it to be a business trip. ” He said, irritation clear in his voice. “It’ll only be for a day or two.”

“Of course, where will I be going?”

“Diavolo’s office.” He stated bluntly. Lucifer took a few deep breaths to soothe his temper before continuing. “Something’s happened to his own assistant and he’s too booked to handle the issue.” He heaved a sigh and shrugged. “You’re the only one we can trust to help in this situation.”

You blinked, not sure how to decipher his words. Figuring it would be best to take it at face value; you moved to start packing things up for a business trip. Your mind reeled at possible hidden meanings and the intentions behind his request. You had never left his side before. Whatever was going on, it must have been a major issue to put both their reputations at risk. Nothing like this had happened before; so, you were rather lost in regards as to what to bring with you. In the end, you settled for a notepad and some pens. If Devilgram’s offices were anything like yours, they would be well equipped for you to do managerial duties without issue.

“I have a ride arranged for you already. It should take a few hours to get to the office with traffic the way it is. Diavolo will fill you in on what you need to do.” Lucifer’s composure had returned and he gently ushered you to the elevator. “I’ll come get you later after hours. Just don’t disappoint me.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He walked with you all the way to the black company car that was waiting in the parking garage for you. “Ah... “ he stopped you right before you went in. “Remember, you represent me. So be sure to do your best, no matter what.”

“Yes, Lucifer. I’ll make you proud.” You reassured, getting into the car and preparing for the long ride through congested city traffic.

If there was one way to describe Diavolo’s office, it would be: chaotic. As soon as you walked in, there was a flurry of papers being shuffled, a loud curse followed by an equally loud laugh and the sound of something solid being kicked. Diavolo appeared behind what looked like a mountain of paperwork, sheepishly running his hand through his hair. “Oh, you’re here early. Good.” He started walking you to a separate corner of his office, talking a mile a minute.

“So, my assistant is going through… some personal problems right now. Normally, I can help him through that, but they’ve scheduled me for a whole day of video conferences so I can’t do anything about it. And you know… how demons get when they… you know…” Diavolo visibly blushed, trying to get the words out. He stopped in front of an enclosure, his hand resting on the handle while he tried to figure out how to explain his situation to you.

“I… Don’t understand…” You admitted, confused about what he was trying to hint at.

“Oh?” His eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline in surprise. “So, Lucifer hasn’t explained anything to you about what my assistant is going through?”

“No… this morning was rather rushed in trying to get me here as soon as possible.”

“Oh, well… come on in, let me explain it to you properly.”

As soon as the door swung open, you could hear the sounds of someone desperately whining. Your eyes followed the sound until they lit upon a young man… no, a demon curled up on one of the plush couches of the lounge, completely naked and writhing around. His teal hair plastered to his flushed face, he was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He glanced up to the two of you, his eyes glazed over; it was almost as if he was staring right through you. Your eyes trailed down his body and stopped at his cock and you could feel yourself heat up, unable to tear your eyes away at its unique shape. Okay, note to self, no two demon dicks look the same…

“So, this is Barbatos.” Diavolo’s voice cut through your trance. “He’s my assistant, and normally he’d have this under control; but things happen.” The large man shrugged. “Demons go through a rather intense hormonal surge called a rut once every few decades or so. Sometimes they can feel it coming, other times, it’ll hit them like a truck. You can guess what happened this time.”

“Ah… the latter.” You said, nodding slightly, finally able to move on from staring at Barbatos’ cock and notice his tail swishing back and forth in agitation. It was quite a sight to take in. You could only assume what Diavolo was about to ask of you; but you wanted to hear it from him instead of coming to conclusions on your own.

“I can normally let him just ride this out, but we’ve got some really important meetings coming up this week that he has to attend, so you’re going to need to help take the edge off…” His hand rested on your shoulder. “If I didn’t have so many calls to take care of today, I wouldn’t have needed to call you over.”

Barbatos whined again from where he laid, tears streaked down his face as he looked at you, pleading with his eyes. “Please… help…”

Taking pity on his unfortunate situation, you took a tentative step forward, surprisingly calm for having such a giant bomb of information dropped on you. You reached out to him, gently pushing away his hair and he hissed at the contact, grabbing your hand and pulling you in for a deep, hungry kiss. The delicate horns on his head scratched your face, leaving long welts across your cheek.

“Well, I think you have an idea of what you gotta do. My meeting starts in a few minutes so I gotta jet. I’ll check up on you when I get a chance to!” Diavolo’s tone was frustratingly chipper as he made his leave. “Oh, and don’t worry about making too much noise. I’ve jinxed this room to be soundproof.” He reassured before he closed the door and left you alone with his assistant.

“I’m sorry…” Barbatos said in between his heavy pants. His taloned hands tore your clothes to shreds, his hormones taking control of his actions as he forcibly removed what you wore. You panicked; thinking about how you were going to get back with nothing on you. However, your worries had no place in a situation like this, especially when you felt Barbatos’ cock pressed against your thigh and he hissed in need, rolling his hips to meet yours.

You took another look at it, before taking it in your hand, following its twisted pattern from the base to tapered tip. It vaguely reminded you of a narwhal’s horn in how the muscles twisted together in a spiral to the tip which freely dripped cum. You ran your thumb across the tip, earning you a loud moan, Barbatos arched up, begging to be touched. His whole body was so sensitive from the rut that anything you did sent him deeper into a state of need.

Your skirt and panties were the next things to be ripped off of you, leaving you as naked as he was. He wasted no time in positioning you above him and slamming you down on his cock; letting out a guttural moan when he was balls deep in you. With the way he was shaped, he drilled into you easily, sliding in and out of your slick folds. Despite his delicate frame, he was strong, controlling the pace by holding your body right where he wanted it and brutally thrusting into you.

The ridges of his cock rubbed inside of you, making you gasp and moan. You felt yourself teetering and about to fall but something stopped you from doing so. His long tail tightly wrapped itself around your thigh, helping you stay stable. The demon beneath you looked at you with such heated hunger in your eyes, you felt yourself shiver, the pleasure his cock was giving you driven by his hormones served to heighten your own arousal.

You shouted in surprise when you felt something probing at your asshole. Looking behind you, you noticed the tip of his long tail caressing your ass crack and probe tentatively at the tight hole there. You looked back at Barbatos and saw how glazed over his eyes were from finally getting some relief. He was acting on pure primal instinct, taking everything he needed to end the onslaught of desire that coursed through his veins.

The tip of his tail coated itself in your essence that liberally flowed down your thighs before it went back to teasing your other hole. You gasped when you felt it press into you. He was still roughly fucking into your pussy as he pushed his tail further into you. His eyelids fluttered and his grip on your hips tightened as he started to stretch your tight hole open with slow even strokes. You didn’t have time to catch your breath as his cock hit every sweet spot in you and penetrated you deeply. Even if he didn’t have the same girth and length as Lucifer or Diavolo, the deep, spiraling ridges pressed against all the right places and made you cum without much effort.

He didn’t let you breathe after your first orgasm, fucking you without abandon and still working you with his tail. It was then when you realized that his tail was forked, scissoring your hole and stretching your ass in order to fit more of it into you. With your essence aiding in lubrication, it didn’t take long before he was able to put a significant portion of his tail into you and you started reeling in the feeling of having both your holes filled. Gasping for a break, you braced an arm against the back of the couch, using it to keep you upright as Barbatos used you.

He was insatiable, the heated need in his eyes didn’t dissipate even after he had cum into you. He kept going, fucking you through his orgasms and your own. Your whole body felt numb from all the times you had come undone around him. Each time it was explosive and raw, each time you thought it would be over; but, he kept going. At some point, the two of you found yourselves on the floor. You, on your hands and knees while Barbatos took you from behind, his tail working in rhythm to his cock to once again bring you to orgasm.

You clawed at the soft carpet below you, crying from the overload of sensations. It was too much, you had lost count of the number of times you had been brought to climax. Yet, the hormones running rampant in the demon fucking you refused to be sated until you blacked out, unable to take anymore.

Only then did the edge begin to wane. Even if he was still needy, Barbatos carefully curled his body around your unconscious one. His legs intertwined with yours as he kept his cock buried in you, keeping every bit of his seed inside. His tail which had fucked your asshole for hours now slowed its deep thrusts, slowly pulling out of you and giving your body some relief while you rested.

In your sleep, he placed soft kisses on your shoulders, massaging your breasts and whispering quiet apologies for how roughly he had treated you. You mumbled in your sleep, shifting a bit to get into a better position. As you moved, the instinctual side of Barbatos roughly moved you back into place. Even if the worst of the rut had run its course, his hormones still made him possessive and nearly feral at any shift outside of his control. As soon as you had settled into his arms again and he was sure you weren’t going anywhere, he finally let your body get some much needed rest.

He himself dozed in and out of consciousness. Even now, his body screamed for more despite how exhausted he was. The room reeked of sex and it only served to keep him hard inside of you no matter how many times he had released himself. His hips kept twitching, rocking into you driving his cock further into your warm depths as he craved contact and stimulation. His body was drained from being in a state of constant arousal. Now that he regained some sense of himself, he took his time in sliding his cock in and out of your abused hole.

You were brought to another high in your dreams. In your mind, you saw and felt Lucifer caress you. It was his body pressed up against your own and his cock that was penetrating your core. Your body reacted to the images of your dreams, keeping you wet and willing as Barbatos fucked you slowly in your sleep. You remembered begging; you remembered the image of his magnificent demonic form before you and how it made your whole body sing in pleasure. Everything ached, but it was so worth it to feel every detail of his cock working your swollen walls.

You gasped, feeling your orgasm rush through you and you were jolted back into reality. Barbatos still clung to you from behind, murmuring softly to you and treated you as if you were his most precious lover. He was barely awake, but you could see some light returning in his eyes whenever he blearily looked at you while he placed soft kisses along your jaw and your neck. His sharp teeth left marks all across your back as he marked you with love bites. The sudden shocks of pleasure kept you from sleeping for too long; but at least you were able to rest off the worst of the exhaustion..

“Oh? You’re already so calm?” Diavolo’s voice snapped you out of your daze and you glanced up to see him standing at the doorway. “Just finished up everything, so I came to check up on you to see how you were doing. Looks like you got through the hardest part.”

You weakly smiled at him as he walked in and closed the door behind him. “I think he’s sleeping.” You mumbled, gesturing to Barbatos behind you.

“He can sleep on the couch, it’s much comfier there.” Diavolo bent down and picked up his assistant, finally pulling him out of you and you gasped at the sudden loss of dick inside of you. All the cum that had been kept in you flowed out, coating your thighs and the carpet below you. You heard Barbatos mumble something in protest, but he was too tired to really do much against his much more energetic boss.

Once he had been put to rest on the couch, Diavolo turned to you. He sat down on the carpet and pulled you up to sit in his lap. “I’m sure that was very intense for you.” he murmured, planting gentle kisses on your temple while his large hands massaged your aching muscles. “I should apologize for putting you through that so suddenly.”

You didn’t have the energy to really rebuke his apology. Even if it had all been a surprise to you; you couldn’t say that you didn’t enjoy it. Honestly, what happened was likely better than spending eight hours filing paperwork. You managed to at least make a sound of acknowledgement and nestled yourself against his broad chest, enjoying the gentle aftercare he was giving you. He made you drink water at regular intervals and fed you while you drifted in and out of sleep. You weren’t sure how long you were in that strange state of limbo, but Diavolo nursed you back to feeling somewhat human.

When you awoke, you noticed that you were still cradled in Diavolo’s lap, but this time, he had significantly less clothing than before. Blinking to make sure that you weren’t dreaming, you were entirely too shocked to really process what you saw in the reflection of the full length mirror that was attached to the back of the lounge door. Your whole visit Diavolo’s headquarters had been such a whirlwind, you somehow managed to miss such a large fixture in the room. Your brain, still waking up, had to process the demon who’s lap you were sitting in. His chest was bare, whatever accessories he usually wore in this form had been removed already and laid safely to the side.

You ogled at the intricate swirling patterns that traveled across his whole torso. Ignoring how much of a right mess you looked after being fucked out of your mind, you took time to admire the leathery wings that sprouted from his back and the grand horns that graced his head. “My apologies, I like to go back to this form whenever no one is around. It’s so much more comfortable to me than looking like a human.” He explained, chuckling softly at your shocked expression.

“Oh…” you managed to get out, shifting a bit in his lap so you could get a proper look at his face.

“You’re not scared?”

“No… I think it’s very hard to be scared after seeing Lucifer and Barbatos.” You reasoned which earned a chuckle out of him.

“Fair enough.” He conceded. His hand gently combed through your hair, getting out the worst of the knots and tangles. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had better days.” You admitted, noting the distinct soreness your whole body experienced, especially between your legs.

“I can imagine…” He said, pressing a kiss at your temple. “You did so well, especially on short notice. I’m truly impressed at how well Lucifer trained you.”

“I… Thank you, my Lord.” You said, humbled by the praise and feeling a warm, fuzzy feeling spread across your chest. Hopefully that meant you were able to uphold Lucifer’s reputation through this ordeal.

“Hmm… You’re very welcome.” he said, humming softly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. His hands traveled to your breasts giving them a tentative squeeze. “I know I said I soundproofed the room for you and Barbatos, but that was only for humans. I could still hear everything that happened in here.”

Your body went from hot to cold, a shiver ran down your spine and you could feel your brain stop working. His hands, gently but firmly spread your legs wide. In the mirror, you could still see Barbatos’ cum dripping out of your sore and tired pussy. You could also see the massive bulge you were sitting on top of. “Would you mind taking care of one more problem?” He asked, gesturing to his crotch and making eye contact with you through the mirror.

“I… I’ll do my best to please you.” You said, swallowing hard and wondering if your body could really take anymore. After the rest and the care Diavolo had given you, it really did feel much better; but you weren’t sure if you were quite ready to take another demon’s cock into you.

“Ah.. no wonder he’s so attached to you. You’re just so willing to please.” He said, moving you off his lap only to quickly divest himself of his pants. The moment you saw what you had to work with, you licked your lips with uncertainty and felt your body instinctually prepare itself to accept the massive cock that he had just unveiled.

Diavolo kept you facing the mirror, straddling your legs on either side of his thick thighs. One hand at your abdomen, and another at your chest kept you upright as your shaking thighs started to sink onto his length. The blunt head of his cock spread your pussy wide open without any chance to ease into his girth and you immediately screamed. The soreness turned itself into pain as you tried to accept the demon lord’s cock into you. He hushed you, gently rubbing your breasts to keep you distracted from the pain. His strength kept you from collapsing. You looked forward, staring at the length that wasn’t in you yet and the knot that you would eventually have to accept. The tip of his cock had already disappeared into you, but he was about as thick as your forearm and almost as long. The large, pulsing knot at the base of his cock was at least the size of your fist. For the first time you worried about breaking in half.

“It’s okay… It’s okay…” He murmured softly, calming you down and distracting from how much you were about to take. “Just breathe slowly and you’ll have all of me soon.” he reassured.

He kept his voice low and soft, lulling you into a state of peace. Eventually the pain faded and you allowed yourself to sink further in him. You watched in awe as every inch of him slowly disappeared into you in the mirror. Your pussy stretched and contracted to accommodate the tapered swell of his cock. He coached you through every breath, mumbling soft praises and what sounded like spells to take away whatever pain you might have felt from being stretched out so much. You could see the outline of his cock pressed up against your lower abdomen as he got close to bottoming out in you. “Good girl…” He purred, smiling softly at how beautiful you looked with his dick stuffed into you.

He let you breathe, making sure that any discomfort was gone before he started moving inside of you. The moment you did, you felt as if you had been rearranged to accept his cock and everything that it brought along with it. The large ridge at the tip of his cock dragged itself along your sore walls, waking every tired nerve in your body. You moaned, leaning up against him and bracing yourself against his sturdy body while he moved you as he wished up and down his cock. Looking at the mirror, you saw how slick his shaft had become, coated with a mixture of your fluids and Barbatos’.

It was mind numbing how slow he went; but it was likely to your benefit. You were sure to have been broken if he had taken you with the same veracity as his assistant had. It let you enjoy every sensation to its fullest and after a few passes, you were writing in his lap, moaning his name and gasping every time he was fully seated inside of you. There was still the matter of his knot, but that was an afterthought to what you were experiencing right then and there.

His hand at your abdomen slid down to toy at your exposed clit which only added to the mind blowing sensations you were going through. You tried to call out his name but all that came out of you were gutural gasps. Your mouth stuck in a perpetual “O” as he only added more and more pleasure for you. “Mmm… that’s a good look.” He murmured rubbing circles at your clit and starting you on another pass up and down his cock. “When we get all the way back down, I want you to cum, okay?”

You only nodded in reply, watching your body rise and fall in the mirror, entranced at how easily he moved you up and down his dick. As he wished, the moment the last inch of his shaft disappeared into you, you came, clenching around him and crying out as white hot pleasure exploded inside of you. You spasmed, wheezing and crying, not even noticing the door had opened at that moment to welcome yet another person to the party.

Lucifer gaped at the sight before him. He licked his lips, unsure how to present himself. He knew you would be in a rather compromising position once he arrived to pick you up, but he didn’t expect this. The sight of you taking Diavolo’s demon cock inside of you, the way you were stretched right to your limit and writhing in his grasp sent waves of desire to his own crotch. He hadn’t planned on joining, but with how quickly he was getting hard just by watching you cum, he found himself unbuckling his pants and kneeling in front of you.

“You make me so proud…” He purred, kissing sense back into you and you squealed into his mouth. You were so enraptured with your own climax, you hadn’t noticed him come in at all. His hand laced itself into your hair, deepening the kiss and there was a deep, dark urge in him that he no longer could control.

It was time to push you past every limit he had ever set.

“I want to see you break…” He breathed as soon as the kiss was broken and you were given a second to regain your bearings.

Diavolo behind you let out a low whistle at that admission, his brows raised in anticipation of what Lucifer had in mind. He leaned back, getting himself comfortable and eagerly awaited what sort of plan Lucifer had to break you and put you back together.

Lucifer ran his length up and down your stretched slit, coating his cock with your juices. “Move.” He demanded, glaring up at Diavolo and the demon lord obliged, going back to the slow, languid pace he had set for you earlier. Watching your pussy stretch and take so much cock only served to make him harder and that need within him grew once again.

On the second pass, just as you were midway down Diavolo’s cock, you felt something else pressed into you, forcing its way in to join the massive dick that was already stuffed into you. Lucifer’s eyes glowed red as he pushed you past your limit and you swore you felt yourself splitting in two with how much you were being asked to take. Garbled sounds of protest spilled from your lips, but he persisted. As Diavolo continued to sink you down, Lucifer’s own cock joined in your hole and when you were once again bottomed out on top of Diavolo’s knot, you had somehow managed to take them both.

“Good… very good.” Lucifer groaned. He rolled his hips into you, shoving himself even deeper in you.

A soundless scream came from your voice as they went further and moved to add that massive knot into you. With Diavolo firmly pushing you down onto him, the motion only embedded Lucifer deeper into you. The widest part of the knot approached and you didn’t want to see how wide you had been split open by the two demons. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think, all there was in your world was searing hot pain, pressure and pleasure mixed into one.

And as the widest part slipped into you, the tie completed itself and your body no longer felt anything. As if your very soul had exited your body and you existed in a subspace in your mind. There was pleasure, yes, but there was an inexplicable fullness you couldn’t express. Your arms fell limp at your sides They would move soon, you knew that would be the case. Diavolo had already whispered something to Lucifer as you stared blankly at the ceiling, shutting out everything around you to simply experience what they were giving you.

The movement at first was barely perceptible. Diavolo took charge, considering it was his knot you were taking. With the way Lucifer was crammed into your pussy, he was in no position to move as well. It was a slow rocking of his hips like waves crashing into a cliff. There was a ringing in your ears that tuned out all sound around you save for the frantic beating of your heart. The demon lord rocked his length in you, stirring that tell tale feeling of an orgasm building up in you.

You didn’t think you could clench around them, it was impossible with how full you felt. But the pressure of your climax demanded your muscles to do things you didn’t think you had the capacity to. Each little motion amplified itself, sending your mind into a blank bliss and you could tell the end was near. Your skin felt hot breath on it as the men neared their release as well. Blissfully, you heard Lucifer’s voice cut right through the hazy subspace.

“Cum”

You did as you were told, screaming until your voice was hoarse and when the high was over, all was black.

You awoke sprawled out on the seat of a limo. Your head on Lucifer’s lap. You tried to move but your muscles refused to comply. Lucifer gently pat your head, shushing you quietly. “You don’t have to move. It’s a long ride home.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Rest for now…”

“My.. My clothes..” You croaked, your throat as sore as your body and barely able to make many coherent sounds.

“It’s okay, Diavolo let you borrow his shirt. It’s big enough to keep you decent.”

A surge of relief washed across your body at that fact. Even if it was just a shirt, it would at least be better than having to get home in nothing at all. You looked up at Lucifer who seemed so pleased. There was a small, soft smile on his face as he ran his fingers through your hair and doted on you.

You tried to move again, if only to find a more comfortable position and found that Lucifer’s blazer had been protectively draped over your body to keep you warm. The familiar scent of his cologne and musk slowly lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

“Did I do okay?” You asked before you were fully unconscious.

“You did perfectly. I couldn’t have asked for more.” He reassured. His hand continued to meditatively pat your head as the limo took the long way home, giving you as much time as possible to let you rest peacefully.

Having taken the time to break you so thoroughly, Lucifer couldn’t wait to start the process of putting you back together as he wished.

~~ Taglist: @ptv-hades @bluelipsblueveins-blue @utopiamiroh @vanillaicebaby @taehyungtrasholiviahaneul99

#Obey me #Obey me fanfiction #Barbatos x reader #Lucifer x Diavolo x Reader #Obey me smut #My writing #this shit is filthy af #i'm trash you're trash we're all trash #how tf do y'all tag these things #idk i just write stuff and pray ppl find it i guess

235 notes · View notes

dastardlydandelion · 4 years ago

Note

Please post the sickfic prompt turned corpse disposal. 😂

sure! that one’s p bloodless, i can post that one.

ao3 link

content warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced spousal abuse, minimally described fresh dead body, illness description

Billy isn’t sick.

Billy doesn’t get sick. He really doesn’t. Hasn’t had so much as a cold in years, albeit he’s claimed one as cover here and there whenever coke overuse made him maybe sorta sniffly and Neil started to eye him up like he might be suspicious.

Billy isn’t sick.

If he’s feeling achy, well, he’s just sore because Neil laid the belt on him pretty hard two days ago after he got sent home from school midday Monday, written up and suspended. If he’s coughing, well, it’s just because he’s been smoking more than usual. Neil’s been stressed out lately, so that means Billy’s stressed out too.

“No,” his father says sharply when Billy takes a seat at the breakfast table.

And Billy blinks at him, confused but careful.

“You’re not going to sit with us and cough all over the food like a human biohazard. I raised you to show more courtesy than that.” Neil gives him a stern look. “Go back to bed.”

“I’m not even—“

“Go back to bed, Billy.”

Billy hears the warning heighten in his father’s tone. He doesn’t argue. He hauls himself back to his bedroom and it’s whatever. He wasn’t really hungry anyway.

* * *

Okay, so Billy is sick.

He got himself suspended because he felt something coming on. He knows his body. He was feeling off kilter and sluggish, uncomfortable in the chest when he inhaled too deeply. So he put his boots on the desk in history class and flipped the teacher the bird when she asked him to sit properly. Even went the extra mile and sneered, told her to blow him when her jaw hit the floor.

He figured it’d buy him enough time to recover without having to call in sick, or get in trouble for skipping class. A suspension was one indiscretion and only likely to invoke one punishment. Skipping multiple days would’ve been multiple indiscretions and more likely to invoke multiple punishments.

In retrospect he should’ve just called in sick because the whole point of avoiding that route was avoiding having to admit it, but he can’t really hide it. Whatever he’s got came on hard and fast, doubled-down by Monday evening. It hasn’t gotten any better. Billy feels bad all over, the cough is near constant, and he’s shaking with chills. Puts his leather jacket on before he buries himself under the blankets and still can’t get warm.

And the coughing, ugh, the fucking coughing. Billy knows he’s being loud. He tries to hold it in but he just can’t. Spasm after spasm squeezes his lungs until they’re aching for air. His chest feels like it’s full of swamp muck and all he can do is ride it out, clutch at his ribs until he makes it to the oxygen on the other side.

Billy should get up. He should make himself get off his ass, go buy some cough drops or at least refill his glass of water. He’s going to make it happen. He’s definitely going to make it happen…just maybe not yet.

He never really gets around to it. Spends most of the afternoon slogging through coughs and trying to get comfortable even though it doesn’t really matter which way he tosses or turns, he’s still cold to the bone, chest stabbing with every burdened breath. The day drags and Billy catches snippets of the other members of the household moving about, knows it’s evening when Neil sticks his head in.

“I dug this out of the cabinet for you,” he announces, holding up a blue container. “Vapor rub. It’ll calm your cough down. Help you sleep.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

His father pads across the carpet, sets the container down on Billy’s nightstand, right within reach. He hovers uncertainly, eyes narrowed. Opens his mouth to say something and maybe he does, but Billy doesn’t catch it, snapping upright to bury another flurry of coughs into his closed fist. It’s a forceful fit and before he knows it, his father’s thumping him on the back. He’s probably trying to help but the heel of his hand connects with one of the bruises the belt buckle left and Billy can’t stop himself before he flinches.

Neil retracts his hand, leaves without another word. Billy rakes in breath at the coda of the coughs, air scraping against his roughshod throat. He goes as deep as he can even though it hurts, snatches the container of vapor rub.

Billy begins to unscrew the lid and notices some of the ointment is crusted under the lid. It flakes off. This stuff looks old. Billy checks the date on the label. Sure enough, it’s been expired for close to a year.

He throws it across the room in frustration, watches it bounce off the wall. Lies back down and pulls the covers up to his chin.

At some point Neil bangs on his door and demands he cut out the racket, probably thinking Billy rebuffed his generosity. Billy’s too exhausted to bother explaining the shit’s expired. Instead he turns his face into the pillow and smothers his fits into the fabric, hoping it muffles the sounds.

* * *

Sometime later Thursday morning, Susan knocks on his door. Billy contemplates pretending to be asleep. Really, he wishes he was. He’s feeling pretty rundown but he can’t seem to get more than a wink before he wakes up coughing.

But if he doesn’t answer it now, she’ll probably just bother him later. So Billy plods to the door and pulls it open.

“What?”

“Um,” Susan begins eloquently, blinking at him as she fiddles with the thin object in her hands. A thermometer.

“Neil tell you to do this?”

“N-No, but, uh. It’s probably a good idea to check your temperature. No offense, Billy, but you don’t sound so good and you’re awfully flush…”

“If I cared, I’d check myself,” he snorts irritably. “Try to stick that under my tongue and I’ll break it in half. Save your mother hen shit for Max.”

With that, he slams the door in her face. They’ve no love for each other. On infrequent occasions Susan will forget this and make some half-assed attempt to get closer to him. Billy’s always quick to remind her where they stand. It doesn’t take much.

Afternoon rolls around without Susan bugging him anymore. Billy isn’t a big reader but he doesn’t feel up to much else between increasingly productive coughing bouts that leave him hacking up gross, greenish globs into his small wire mesh trashcan. So he flips through some music magazines and the book he’s supposed to read for english class until he gathers enough energy to kick himself into gear.

He didn’t bother changing out of his clothes yesterday so he doesn’t need to change now. Just sprays himself with some cologne, figures he probably smells because he’s sweating nonstop. Discomforting drenching cold sweats like getting caught outside in icy rains, an experience Billy was blissfully unfamiliar with until Neil decided to leave sunny California behind.

He browses the small medical selection at Melvald’s, grabs a couple bags of cherry flavored lozenges and a bottle of cough syrup. Covers a couple fits with the crook of his elbow on the way to the counter. He swallows the gunk that comes up because there’s nowhere to spit it into and scrunches his nose in disgust, feels like freaking slime sliding down his throat.

It’s the town cuckoo who rings him up. Or that’s her reputation anyway but she doesn’t seem particularly nutty to Billy. Hell, seems less weird than Susan does when she’s doing shit like talking to the spiders she takes outside.

“Time to go, Little Creepy Crawly,” she’d singsonged last week, shaking a daddy longlegs out of her tissue on the front porch. “Go be free.”

“You need fucking friends,” Billy had told her after the fact. Sound advice, he’d thought. Susan only ducked her head and disappeared into the next room.

Town Cuckoo gives the amount. Billy digs through his wallet and comes up two dollars short. Ugh. Fucking brandname linctuses. Shit’s a ripoff but there was no generic equivalent on the shelf.

She tells Billy it’s on the house, forehead crinkling just a bit as she studies him, eyes all melty with sympathy. Screw that shit. Billy isn’t anybody’s charity case. He gives her a pointed glower as he stamps a five down on the counter, takes the two bags of lozenges, and leaves.

He eats through half of the first bag until his throat tingles with menthol and artificial sweetness, and actually manages to sleep for a few solid hours. He knows it’s been hours because when he wakes himself coughing, it’s dark out. Nighttime.

Billy curls inward with the spasms, tries to catch his breath between stabbing pains. This sucks so much. He’s hacking up more gunk. Attempts to rub some of the discomfort from his heavy, congestion leaden chest to no avail.

He just keeps coughing and coughing and he knows before long, Neil’s going to get in his shit about the noise so he forces himself to throw off the covers. His bruises are still healing. He doesn’t need any more.

Billy crams his feet in his boots and drags himself down the hall. To his surprise, Susan’s sitting at the kitchen table. She’s crying. The sobs wrack her whole body the way the coughs wrack his and her cheeks are blotched cherry red just like his lozenges, tear tracks shining under the kitchen light. It throws him, really. He’s lived with Susan for years and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her cry. She just. Doesn’t show much emotion at all, let alone displays like this.

Billy watches it the way he’d watch a car crash. Susan doesn’t even notice him until he’s coughing again. He curls his fist around his mouth, muffles them as best he can. Fumbles for his car keys when he’s made it through to the other side.

“Where could you possibly be going?” Susan asks, her voice thick, like there’s a bubble in her throat.

Maybe Neil hit her. Billy’s seen it so he knows it happens sometimes even though he’s pretty sure it’s not often. Not like how Neil hits him. Or hit his own mother. Susan is probably Neil’s favorite, obedient like a well trained dressage horse following all of his cues. Isn’t anything like his own mom who defied Neil like a wild mustang he couldn’t tame, who went braless and smoked hash with the hippies, screamed her lungs out at Neil in furious harpy volumes and called him names no matter how mad it made him. Who did her best to give back as good as she got even outmatched, even if it made him madder, throwing things or fists or swinging Billy’s Little League bat.

Susan is submissively behaved and tepid tempered, always wears her bra under the clothes Neil buys her in the fashions he prefers her in. Susan speaks softly and sweetly, never stays out unscheduled and doesn’t smoke anything at all, always smells like floral perfumes and lotions, never ever, ever like cigarettes or marijuana or other men’s cologne. When Neil hits Susan she goes slack and sloth and silent, and does not lift a finger to fight. It is the only thing she and Billy have in common.

“Nowhere,” he answers. “Gonna sleep in the car before Neil gets on me about making noise.”

“Billy, it’s too cold for that…besides, Neil isn’t going to wake up yet.”

“How do you know?”

What, does Susan think she’s a fucking fortune teller now?

Sure enough, she doesn’t have a straight answer for him. She stumbles over syllables that don’t shape into sentences and the last thing Billy feels like doing is indulging her.

“Pfft. That’s what I thought. By the way, you’re ugly when you cry.” Billy glares at her until she turns away, timid, bowing her head. He heads out to the Camaro, gets in the driver’s seat and pulls it back.

Yeah, it’s cold out but he can’t get warm inside under the blankets anyway. Neil’s already in a bad mood. He’d only barked about the racket last night but his father’s bite is worse than his bark and Billy knows better than to expect a second warning.

* * *

Friday morning, the frosty air scrapes Billy’s throat raw and makes him cough so, so hard. He’s beyond done with this shit, fuck everything. He takes shallow breaths to avoid the pangs of going too deep. The coughing still brings up gunk he spits out and he can feel the congestion crackling in his chest like thick, goopy molasses drowning his lungs, sticking between every rung of his ribcage.

It’s actually. Kind of. Beginning to concern him.

Is being sick normally like this?

Billy hasn’t been sick in so long, he seriously doesn’t know. But it’s been days and he’s not feeling any better. He feels worse. He really does. Breathing has become a grueling travail. Even to his own ears, his exhales sound wet and ratty. The coughing was a nuisance when it first came on but now it’s just downright exhausting.

But.

Well. He’s gotta be okay. He’s too young to be like, seriously sick. It’s probably just one of those things where it’s going to get worse before it gets better. A lot of things are like that, right?

Everything gets worse before it gets better. He’s fine. He’s definitely fine.

Billy goes inside. Everyone’s at the breakfast table and he doesn’t take a seat because he’s a biohazard and Neil already looks dour. Susan’s pouring him coffee. Max nibbles at a piece of toast. She has a cut on her cheek that wasn’t there when Billy saw her yesterday. Doesn’t look bad, just a simple scratch stretched under her eye, but when he peers closer is that…is that a bruise?

Yes. It’s pretty small. Faint. He would’ve missed it entirely if the thin red thread of her cut wasn’t so stark against Max’s pasty skin.

He’s smart enough not to ask in front of Neil. He doesn’t say anything. Gets the juice from the fridge and pours himself a glass. He’s two sips in before he has to set it aside, covering his mouth as another fit takes hold.

Neil is glaring when he makes it through. Right. Don’t cough around the food. Billy isn’t even sitting with them but whatever. He’s not gonna poke the bear. Heads off to Max’s room and waits.

Eventually she comes in to get her backpack, frowning at his presence. “What’re you doing in here?”

“What happened to your face?”

“Geez, Billy, you sound terrible.” Her nose crinkles.

“I asked you a question, Max.” Billy impatiently twirls his finger, slightly annoyed. He already knows he sounds bad, doesn’t need to be reminded.

Max turns away from him with a shrug, starts stuffing her textbooks into the bag. “I fell on the pond yesterday when I was playing with my friends. Where I fell…the ice wasn’t smooth. It was rough and it scratched.”

Billy narrows his eyes and measures her up. It isn’t a particularly unlikely story. But he wants to be sure.

“You’d tell me if it was Neil, right?”

“…of course I’d tell you if it Neil.” Max looks up from messing with her stuff and faces him with clear resolution in her gaze. “Neil hits you all the time so if he hit me, you’d be the first person I’d tell.”

Billy keeps his eyes on her as he goes over what she said. She doesn’t look like she’s lying. She doesn’t sound like she’s lying. Besides, Neil’s striking hand probably would’ve left a bigger bruise and he can’t place anything on it that would’ve scratched her skin like that. Neil’s fingernails are short and blunt, smoother than Billy’s, which get jagged when he bites. He doesn’t wear rings beyond his wedding band, and his is smooth silver, no shiny rock cut in the middle like Susan’s.

“Alright,” he concedes, turns to leave.

The coughing fit hits heavy, like a wrecking ball to the chest. Billy hangs onto the doorframe with one hand, covers his mouth with the other. It’ll pass. It’ll pass. It’ll pass.

Christ, he’s sick of being sick.

It passes. Billy keeps his grip on the doorframe as he works on drawing in air.

“You okay?” Max asks from behind.

And he can’t actually answer that just yet, still catching his breath.

“You sound really gross, like you’re literally dying.”

“I’m not…I’m fine…even run you to school, if you want.” Billy relaxes his grip on the doorframe and turns back to her.

“Oh.” Max perks up at that, eyes bright. “Yeah, can you?”

She lowers her voice as she adds, “I’m mad at my mom. I don’t really wanna ride with her.”

Billy doesn’t ask what for. It’s probably something stupid. Susan getting after her for not zipping up her coat or touching yellow snow or some other dumb shit. He’s too tired to care, really.

“Sure I can, s’what I just said, isn’t it? Finish getting your stuff together, bus leaves in five.”

* * *

Billy does’t go home for a long time. After dropping Max off, he just sits in the parking lot for awhile, rests his head against the steering wheel while the heat blasts from the vents. He’s got it all the way up and he’s so sweaty his hair’s plastered to the back of his neck, but he’s still freaking cold.

He doesn’t know what he did to deserve this.

Or.

Okay, maybe he does.

Eventually he pulls out of the parking lot, drives around listening to music just to be doing something. Winds up in another lot, an empty lot, where the rumor is they’re going to build a mall next year. Billy hopes so. Hawkins is mind-numbingly boring. Sometimes he just wants to scream about it, set fire to the fucking cornfields and scream at the top of his lungs.

His lungs aren’t really up to screaming right now though. Neither is his throat, really, tender from coughing spasm after coughing spasm tearing it up. Billy doesn’t know if he’s even been this sick.

He’s even considering bringing it up to his dad, maybe even. Asking Dad for help. And that.

That means he’s either desperate or delirious, and neither is a particularly reassuring thought.

Fuck.

Billy despises the fact it even crossed his mind. He can’t go to Neil. He won’t. That’s stupid. Neil would probably just dig him out some more expired vapor rub. Definitely wouldn’t take him to a doctor, at least not until the bruises heal. Maybe he’d compromise and get him the cough syrup Billy didn’t have enough cash for…

Between musings, Billy finds himself squeezed in another fit that pummels his chest like invisible fists. It’s so bad he’s left battling for just a breath of air, so forceful for one very scary second he’s even worried he won’t get it. That the coughing will go on and on, and he’ll never take another breath again. That they’ll find his body right here in the empty lot where maybe the mall will be one day.

Except the coughing eventually does subside and Billy does manage to get some air. But the fit spooks him a little. Takes enough out of Billy that he decides he’s probably going to have to go to Neil. Shit.

He puts it off as long as he can. Doesn’t even go home until he knows everyone is done with dinner. To his surprise, Neil isn’t watching tv. Billy heads down the hall. The light is on under Max’s door. The light is on under the master bedroom door too. Billy hesitates before knocking.

Does he really need to go to Neil?

Maybe he was exaggerating when he was worried earlier. Billy’s hand retracts from the door. It's promptly clamped around his mouth for what must be the hundredth time. He’s hacking hard into his palm, chest throbbing.

He doesn’t actually mean to open the door. But he grabs the knob for support and jerks when the metal is shockingly cold under his fingers. The next thing Billy knows, he’s stumbling over the threshold.

Susan whips toward him, eyes as wide as dinner plates and mouth frozen open in horror. At first Billy thinks it’s him. She’s so disgusted she’s horrified by him and his biohazard germs and any second Neil’s going to pick his head up from the bed and bark at Billy for intruding without so much as a knock, and then—

Then his eyes fall to the long bloodied baiting needle in Susan’s suddenly trembling hands.

“S-Self d-defense,” she quavers, backing away, that needle outward in her shaky, shaky hands almost like she thinks Billy’s going to advance on her. “It was s-self defense, B-Billy, I had to.”

Because Neil’s still motionless, facedown on the bed even though his son’s still coughing, making a racket and expelling biohazard bacteria in his very bedroom. He’s still coughing, fuck, his eyes are watering, but they aren’t so watery he can’t see what’s right in front of him. Billy plants a hand down against the dresser and tries to breathe.

“Self defense,” he rasps at the end of the fit, blinking at the acupuncture kit open inches away from his hand on the dresser.

“S-Slightly preemptive self defense,” Susan amends, swallowing. “Make no m-mistake, I had to. I had to, he— he was right on the verge of a b-blowup. You know your father, Billy.”

That is true. Billy knows his father well. He doesn’t speak to Susan as he shuffles up to the bed. Gulps down some of the gunk in his throat, grazes his father’s cheek with his fingertips. There’s blood welled up in a hole at the base of his skull but he’s warm, kinda, so maybe Susan didn’t kill him after all. He moves his fingers to feel for a pulse.

It isn’t there. Neil’s dead? Neil’s really dead?

“Dad?” he tries. It comes out a hoarse squeak. He clears his throat and tries again. “Dad? Dad, c’mon.”

Billy jostles his father’s shoulder. It yields no response. The bare skin is still warm, deceptively so. There’s not so much as a flicker of life beneath it.

“Holy shit,” Billy gasps.

Susan presses back against the wall, eyes still very wide, clutching that baiting needle so tight her knuckles are blanched. Her hands shake and shake.

“What are you going to do?” she asks in a whisper.

“What am I going to go?” Billy echoes. “I— I don’t know! What are you going to do? Call the cops?”

Because even if her self defense was preemptive, to use her description, maybe it’d still fly. Billy has bruises. Maybe Susan has some too hidden under that deep cranberry dress.

“Cops?” Susan’s mouth tightens as her head gives a firm shake. “Of course not. Don’t you know what police are like? Your father would’ve fit right in.”

Billy considers this as he coughs, stuffing them into the sleeve of his leather jacket. He can’t say his own experience with the law has ever been positive. And Neil was a security guard. What’s a security guard if not a wannabe cop?

“You planned this,” Billy heaves out when he’s done coughing.

“I’m….I mean, y-yes, but I—“

“What was your plan?” Billy interrupts. “Where were you going to go from here?”

“I didn’t expect you to show up,” Susan says, soft and frowning.

“I live here,” Billy points out and he laughs. Strange, strained laughter peals out of him until it triggers another bout of coughing because. What. The. Actual. Fuck.

“Oh, Billy…do you want some water? Maybe you should sit down.”

“Where?” he rasps between coughs. “Next to my dead dad?!”

“Keep your voice down,” Susan urges, waving the needle like a conductor’s baton. “Max is still awake.”

Billy wipes the perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand. Stares at Susan as he does his best to take even breaths.

“You’re wheezing.”

“You’re deflecting,” he fires back. “What are you going to do?”

“Um, uh…chop him up,” Susan admits quietly. “I’d p-planned to chop him up.”

“That’ll make a mess,” Billy blurts out, blunt.

“Messy, yes, but it’s the easiest way. I can’t exactly carry him.”

Billy touches the small of Neil’s bare back, skims his fingertips between hair thin acupuncture needles. He probes at the small of his own back, winces when dull pain pulses through the bruise. His throat is thick with something other than phlegm and his heart is racing rabbity fast. In this moment, Billy makes a decision.

“Not by yourself.”

Susan gapes.

“Where we taking him?” Billy asks.

“I…I honestly didn’t have an exact location mind, but farther away. Not here in Hawkins, the town is too small.” Susan swallows again and tugs at her sleeve. “I planned to bag his parts in pieces and drive a few hours out and spend the night disposing of the bags in different areas.”

That makes sense, he thinks.

“Sometimes I go to this gay bar about two hours away. Pretty big dumpster in the back.”

Billy tries to hit it at least once a month, if he can save up enough of his allowance for gas. Sometimes he collects enough chump change from idiots at school who forget to close their lockers, and isn’t above duping people outta their dough by turning on the charm, either. His interest in girls isn’t exclusive, he finds a helluva lotta guys interesting too. It’s just nice to get out of fucking Nowheresville even on the nights he doesn’t end up fooling around with anybody.

Susan looks absolutely bewildered.

“Gay bar,” he repeats slowly. “You know. Pride pub, homo hub?”

“I know what a gay bar is, Billy. Why on earth are you going to one?”

“Gee, I don’t know, maybe it’s because I’m secretly a drag queen bingo champion,” Billy scoffs in annoyance and it turns into a cough. The one sets off a fit.

“Billy, um…I don’t, um. I’m not judging your preference in partners or your private life, but you’re too young to be going to the bar. Any bar. It’s not legal, you’re a teenager.”

Jesus, he can hardly breathe. He feels like he’s going to fall over. Maybe he actually should’ve sat down next to his dead dad.

“Oh dear. I’m— I’m going to get you some water.”

Billy doesn’t fall over. He has good stamina. He’s hard to knock over, prides himself on that fact. He makes it through the fit upright. His chest is sore from the stabbing and he’s a little dizzy, perhaps from fatigue or breathlessness, but he’s steadfast.

Billy accepts the glass Susan holds out to him upon her return. Her fingers feel like icicles as they brush his and he suppresses a shiver. Takes slow sips and finds a little relief. Eventually sets the glass down on the dresser when he’s done.

“Technically, it’s not me who goes to the bar. You’re right, I’m not twenty-one yet. But Jason Scott on the other hand, well, he’s twenty-five.” Billy fishes his wallet out and frees his fake ID from its fold. “Looks pretty legit, right?”

Susan silently studies the piece of plastic and worries her lip between her teeth.

“But we don’t actually have to go into the bar to put my dad’s body in the dumpster anyway. I mean, going inside would really be a pretty bad idea…”

“Indeed it would, but I’m glad you showed this to me. It wouldn’t be smart to put Neil anywhere you or I associate with at all. But if you’re not actually associated, it’s an option.”

“It’d take less time than the way you were gonna go about it. Cleaner too.”

Susan nods her agreement. “However, I still might…mm, Billy. I’m not sure if you’re going to like this. But in order to prevent him from being identified, I think I’m going to chop off his head…and his hands. Well, perhaps those I’ll just burn with the clothes iron, um. Either way, his fingerprints need to be destroyed.”

Billy’s gut lurches as he soaks it in. It sounds logical. He can’t deny that, but something about the idea of his dad’s decapitation doesn’t sit. Kinda gives him the heebie-jeebies. And that’s weird. That’s really weird because he’s okay with everything else.

Well.

Okay, maybe he’s not okay with it, but. He understands it. It’s Neil. Of course he understands the bruises she may or may not be hiding, the fear in her heart regardless.

“Do you have to chop his head off? Can’t you just smash his face in?”

“I considered that,” Susan says, nodding again. “Those cast iron lion bookends on the shelf are nine pounds each. I weighed them this morning.”

Billy likes the sound of that better. Neil is going to be dead and disfigured either way. He’s not sure why it makes a difference. Maybe it doesn’t, really. He thinks he might have a fever. Maybe the fever’s just getting to him, making him a little loopy and pulling his thoughts in less than rational directions.

“I could do that part,” he offers. It’d probably take him less time to bash Neil’s face in than it’d take Susan. He has more physical prowess, after all, more power to put behind the blows.

“Are you up for that?” she asks, eyeing him skeptically.

“Yes,” he snaps, somewhat defensive. He’s sick but he’s not helpless.

Billy’s claim isn’t undermined by the brief bout of coughing that overtakes him. He halts the reflex to clutch his ribs. Not now, not in front of her. Especially not with what they have to do.

“There’s two bookends,” Susan points out, seems a little nervous as she watches him cough. “We could take turns.”

With that, she disappears from view. Billy hacks some more gross globs into his hand and for convenience’s sake, just wipes it off on his jeans. When Susan comes back, she has one of those big black contractor trash bags. Spreads it out on the bed beside Neil’s form.

They roll him together and Billy doesn’t know what to make of what he feels when he actually sees his father’s face, features devoid and dead. Very, very dead. Tears do not sting his eyes. They just well up watery because he’s coughing again, battling for breath again, so, so wrung and exhausted, lungs like sodden sponges sopped with sputum.

Then he’s holding the bookend, cast iron artistically sculpted, the maned king of the jungle bearing his teeth in a roar. Billy looks at his father’s dead face and hesitates for only a heartbeat. When he brings the heavy object down, he puts all the force he can muster behind it and it makes an utterly atrocious noise Billy will never forget, but—

Some part of him has always wanted to do this. For that part of him, it is the only thing he’s ever truly wanted. And when Susan takes her turn Billy watches her face and realizes, oh, going slack and sloth and silent with the taste of Neil Hargrove’s hand isn’t the only thing they share at all.

* * *

They wait until late to don gloves and roll Neil up in the shower liner. They stuff him in the bed of his own truck for transport. Billy takes the torso end because it’s heavier, Susan hefts him under the legs. Billy drives because he knows the way even though it’s the last thing he feels like doing.

It goes mostly okay. He only has a paroxysm bad enough to make him pull over once.

Susan reaches across the seats and rubs his shoulder. Billy’s too busy getting his breath to shrug her off.

“I’m sure you’re not going to love this idea, but I think it’s time to see a doctor. This could be bronchitis, Billy, or even pneumonia.”

“Pneumonia isn’t real,” Billy grouses tiredly. “It’s like the boogeyman. Just some story old people made up so their grandkids wouldn’t play in the rain and track mud all over the house.”

“Uh…um.” She blinks owlishly, forehead creasing. “No, that’s not quite accurate…”

“I’m screwing with you, Susan.” Because that’s easier than conceding to her.

It would’ve been one thing with Neil. As fucked up as things were, Neil was his dad. Neil was supposed to take care of him.

But Susan. Susan is different. Susan is mostly Max’s weird mom who displays about as much emotion as a mannequin whenever she isn’t (wasn’t) dancing on Neil’s puppet strings or talking to the spiders as she shakes them free from soft tissues. Albeit tonight is a game changer. They’re very literally partners in crime now.

“We could even go to the ER after this,” she suggests uncertainly, wary edge to her tone.

“That’s for emergencies. I can wait.”

“If you’re sure.” Susan hums in her throat and draws her hand away.

They have good timing. The bar’s been closed for almost an hour by the time they get there and all the cars have cleared out. Billy backs up to the dumpster so he and Susan can stand on the bed and lift Neil in that way, rather than having to drag his deadweight out and struggle to raise his cumbersome bulk up over the side.

He doesn’t want to be out here any longer than he has to. Whole thing gives him the heebie-jeebies. He feels like a cop is about to pull up any second now and frankly, it’s cold as fuck. He’s cold as fuck.

Not as cold as the unearthly chill that seems to pierce through the plastic liner when Billy lifts his father’s trunk for the second time tonight.

“Do you feel that?” he irresistibly asks Susan, watching her adjust her grip on Neil’s legs and searching her face for the eeriness he’s feeling.

“Feel what?” Susan asks, frowning.

Death itself? Billy doesn’t know.

“Nothing, it’s…just cold, I guess.”

“Oh, Billy, I think you have the chills.”

And he knows he does but it’s not the same thing. He doesn’t comment any more on it. Together they get Neil up on the metal rim of the open dumpster, push him over. Garbage crunches and crinkles beneath his deadweight. Billy feels another coughing fit coming on and manages to suppress it until he gets back inside the truck.

“Do you want me to drive home?” Susan asks.

“No. I know the way better, it’s easier if I do it.”

“You could, um. I mean, you could direct me if I get a little turned around. You’re looking pretty tuckered out.” It’s dark but Billy can hear the frown in her voice.

“Alright,” he sighs out. “Fine.”

Because she’s not wrong. He’s drained at this point. Shoving his dad’s body in the dumpster spent the last store of energy he had. He and Susan swap places. She doesn’t have much trouble once she actually gets back on the main road.

“Thank you,” she murmurs eventually. “If I had to do this myself, I’d still be in the middle of it.”

“Yeah…sure thing, I guess.” She killed his dad. No big deal. Billy blinks, isn’t sure what else to say.

“…so, um…you like the fellas, huh?” she asks, voice light and not a bit unkind.

“Uh-huh." He shrugs. "Guys, girls, I mean, I'm not that picky. A hole’s a hole, a mouth’s a mouth, fingers are fingers.”

Susan chokes on a scandalized gasp and Billy gets a chuckle out of it, even as it turns into a cough.

“That’s, uh. T-That’s certainly crude.”

And it’s funny really, that Susan seems more creeped out by a boorish comment than she did by holding his dead dad’s corpse legs.

By the time they get home, Billy’s so beyond spent he knows he can’t even make it to his room. Doesn’t bother to try. Collapses on the couch cushions without attempting to take his boots off. Smothers what has to be the goddamn millionth round of coughs into the throw pillow.

When he picks his head up, Susan’s standing there, fiddling with the thermometer again, fretful expression on her features. Oh, fuck it. Fine. Billy bites the bullet and takes it from her, begrudgingly jamming the thing under his tongue.

#billy hargrove #susan hargrove #neil hargrove #my fic tag #anonymoose #can't get enough of these two as a murder duo

10 notes · View notes

browneyedhimbo · 4 years ago

Text

The Package Ch. 1

→Package Delivered

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Your ordered package arrives earlier than anticipated. Being stuck in traffic and completely forgetting what you got, you let Bucky know it was okay to open it for you until you got home. But the contents inside could change your lives forever.

Warnings: language, slight anxiety attack, fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: First chapter is finally here! Sorry it took me so long. I really hope y'all like this! Enjoy!! 💕

• The Package Masterlist • Masterlist •

You sighed in frustration, hands tapping the steering wheel anxiously. God you hated traffic with a burning passion.

Staring at the car in front of you, another - more defeated - sigh leaves your lips as the back of your head hits the headrest. You looked out the window and cursed at everyone and everything that was walking by, blowing past the congested street. Your phone buzzed in the cupholder, pulling you out of your thoughts. You know you're not supposed to text and drive, but it’s not like you were moving anytime soon.

Hey doll, just got home from work. Also, I brought in a package that was on our step, has your name on it

You stared at your phone, confusion writing itself over your face. Package? You're always online shopping, buying the most random of things. You didn't think much of it, typing out a reply before resting your phone on your thigh.

Hey babe, still stuck in traffic. Thanks for letting me know. Open it if you want. I think its the new kitchen towels

Slowly the traffic started moving. You muttered a 'finally' while sitting up straighter. Your phone buzzed and you unlocked it to see Bucky's text of driving carefully. You smiled to yourself before putting your phone back in the cup holder.

A few more minutes go by and you've barely moved half a mile. You groan in annoyance, head lolling over to the side. You see a dad walking with a stroller and a smile makes its way to your face. Your hand subconsciously placed itself over your belly. You weren't really showing yet, being in the very early stages of your pregnancy. Your mind wandered as you thought of Bucky being the one pushing the stroller and your baby being inside. Only if the package would get here. Package. The package. Your face fell as the realization dawned on you. The package you ordered had baby things inside as well as custom shirts for Bucky. The package Bucky was talking about!

"Fuck fuck fuck!" You muttered, looking around for an opening. Oh god, how could you be so careless? Your hands tapped the wheel relentlessly as you quickly maneuver your way through the cars to head on to another street.

You thanked your lucky stars there wasn't any traffic on the other street. Sure it'd take just a little longer because it's the long way, but you couldn't be stuck in traffic knowing he'd already open the package.

Oh Bucky, poor Bucky. You didn't know how he was going to react. Would he be mad? Would he be happy? Would he leave? Would he even want to be involved?

Your head was swimming. You kept muttering curses as you raced your way to your shared apartment. Time was completely irrelevant. All you had to do was floor it and try to not break as many laws as you could.

The moment your street came into view your heartbeat intensified even more than before. Your hands started shaking as you pulled the key out of the ignition and grabbed your purse. You didn’t even bother to use the elevator and just raced your way up the stairs to your floor, extremely high off adrenaline.

You got in front of your door and stared ahead, trying to calm your erratic breathing. You went to put the key in the hole but hesitated, pulling back and leaning against the wall opposite of the door.

This wasn’t how you wanted to tell him. You wanted to bring it up slowly, in a casual conversation. Or maybe even during dinner. But not by opening a random package. You thumped your head against the wall a few times before groaning and standing up. You had to face the music sometime right?

You took a deep breath, opening the door cautiously. Entering the kitchen, you expected to find Bucky there, package ripped and on display. But you didn’t. You set your purse on the countertop, closing your eyes to try and stop being negative about the situation. Your nerves were on edge as it is, so the moment you felt two arms wrap around your waist you yelped, spinning around and throwing a punch.

“Hello to you too.” Bucky chuckled, hand rubbing the spot on his jaw you hit. Guilt flooding every ounce of anxiety you felt.

“Oh my god Bucky! I’m so sorry!” Your hands flying up to his face. He chuckled again, leaning into your touch.

“Wonder what’s gotten you all jittery doll.” He smirked, eyes shining with mischief. You shrugged, looking loosely around the apartment for the package. Bucky noticed this and smiled even more.

“Don’t I get a hello kiss?” He puckered his lips dramatically, earning a giggle from you. You leaned in and pecked his lips. Your worries flew to the back of your head as he deepens it, his hands on your waist pulling you in closer so your bodies are flush together.

“So I was thinkin we stay in tonight, watch a few movies, call it early. Sound good?” He mumbled, bumping your nose against his. You smiled and nodded, pressing another short kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Sounds great, let me get changed.” You walked to your room peeling off your shirt when you froze. There on the mattress lay the baby clothes, Bucky’s custom dad shirts, and an empty picture frame that says ‘Baby Barnes.’

Your heart skipped a beat, automatically thinking the worst. Cool metal and warm skin wrapped gently around your stomach, his chin propped on your shoulder.

“Kitchen towels my ass.” He pressed a kiss to your neck. You peeled yourself away from him, a shiver running up your spine as the cold air touched your now warm back.

“You’re not mad?” Bucky bit his bottom lip, a cute little giggle escaping him.

“Mad? Doll do I look mad?” You shook your head, shoulders drooping.

“You’re okay with this?” Doubt and insecurity clawing its way back to the forefront of your mind.

“Honey, I’m over the moon!” He practically shouted, engulfing you in a bear hug. “I’m going to be a dad! I can’t even being to explain to you how fucking happy I am!” He picked you and spun you around before plopping you on the bed.

Bucky’s bubbly reaction made all the negative emotions you felt completely die out, being replaced by happiness and excitement. Tears pricked your eyes as the words hit you. Bucky’s going to be a dad. You’re going to be a mom. You’re going to be parents.

“We’re gonna be parents.” You whispered. Bucky nodded enthusiastically, dropping to his knees in front of where you sat on the bed. He reached out and set his hands on either side of your belly.

“We’re gonna be parents.” He looked up at you and smiled so wide. You shared a laugh, foreheads pressed against one another. He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, unable to contain his elation. You gently pushed him back, heading to the bathroom to grab something. You walked back with one hand behind your back. You sat back down in front of Bucky, your free hand carding through his hair.

“Here.” You moved your hand to the front, handing the pregnancy test to him. You saw as his eyes started to water, his bottom lip trembling slightly.

He was feeling a million things at once. Grateful for you caring for his child, scared he might mess up, excited he’ll have a little one of his own, petrified that hydra serum will -- he blinked rapidly. He couldn’t think that way. Instead, he focused on the one thought screaming away in his head, ‘he made it.’

He set the pregnancy test down next to you on the bed, his hands grabbing your own. He kissed all your fingers, your palms, the back of your hands. Adoration shining brightly in his eyes. He slowly let go of your hands, placing his over your belly again. His thumbs tracing delicately over your skin. He leaned in, peppering your belly with kisses.

“Papa’s gonna take care of you little one.” He whispered against your skin. “Papa’s gonna take good care of both of you.”

●●●●●●●●

Tags [OPEN]: @white-wolf-buckaroo @cazslaughter @fanfictionarchivee @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @imma-new-soul @starspangledseb @kaithezaftig @marvelofwitch

(who I think might be interested): @wemisshim3000 @this-kitten-is-smitten @disasterbuckley @becausewhyknotme @buckys-blunders @yougottakeeponkeepinon @hp-marvel-starwars-kotlc @starbxcks @thorfanficwriter @propertyofpoeandbucky @babiiface95

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #buck barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #james barnes x reader #james barnes x you #james barnes x y/n #the package

104 notes · View notes

angst-king · 4 years ago

Text

Misery loves Company pt 2

Ito had become worried as her son had slept all day, it was six thirty now, she was making dinner. All day she’d been having a bad feeling about Eijirou, that what he was going through wouldn’t end well but. She shook this off and reminded herself that Eijirou was tough and that he’d be okay even with this nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. Even though she knew Eijirou wouldn’t have much of an appetite, he needed to eat something, and soup was better than nothing. Putting some soup into a food thermos which could hold the perfect amount of food she knew Eijirou could stomach, she grabs a spoon and heads up to the teen’s room.

Coming up to his room, she could hear the muffled sound of coughing, thick wet coughing. Knocking on the door, she peers in and is confused as she sees Eijirou on the floor shaking and coughing next to his bed. “Eijirou? Sweetie, are you okay?” She asked as she set down the thermos and spoon onto the nightstand. “M-mom, h-help” Was all his raspy strained vocal cords could get out as he gasped and sputtered. She rushed down to the floor beside him and asked. “What's wrong baby? Why are you on the floor?” She pulled Eijirou close to her and he continued to shake. “S-so much p-pain momma, i-i can’t breathe-” He coughed hard and Ito grabbed the bucket just in time for him to vomit. When he’s able to talk about it he whimpers and grunts. “I-it feels like someone’s sitting on my chest, poking me with a taser and yanking on my bones, while I'm in the freezer section of the store.” This made Ito nervous, she quickly reached to feel Eijirou’s forehead and pulled it away just as fast. He’s burning up! It's like over the hours he’s just gotten worse! His coughing is getting longer and more frequent, and he’s in so much pain that he can hardly move on his own. He looks pale, very pale. Her alarm bells are ringing louder and louder as Eijirou is clinging to her with a weak grip. She can hear him struggling to breath, she can hear his wheezing and congested breaths, he’s panting. What she didn’t know was that while Eijirou was sleeping, he’d had a seizure, which was a reason for why he was so shaky, he also was cold. Well that was the bad fever talking but he felt cold nonetheless. Snatching the thermometer and uncasing it, she asked Eijirou to open his mouth. He's too weak to keep it in his mouth on his own so she has to hold it steady under the boy’s tongue for him. “ 39.4” Her eyes widened as his temperature went up two degrees! She needed to get him to the hospital, she knew he wouldn’t like it but she had to, this wasn’t something they could just let him sleep through.

“Eijirou sweetie, we need to go to the ER. I know you don’t like it but we have to.” She says moving with urgency and purpose, she picks him up and sets him on the bed and grabs what she needs. She knew they were gonna strip him of his pajamas and shoes there so she didn’t even bother to grab him shoes or socks. She grabbed his medical bag, the list of his medications and records, she went into her room and grabbed her phone, purse and keys. She put on shoes before coming back to carry Eijirou who wordlessly agreed to going to the ER. He only nodded when she said they were going to the hospital. His limbs loosely dangling, she did her best to not jostle him around as she took him to the car. Buckling him up she puts his medical bag in the back seat, her purse on the floor of the passenger seat and turns on the house alarm.

She’s impatient as the garage door takes its time opening itself up and she makes it a quick task to get out and close the door without staying in the driveway a second longer. She’s on the road, she’s not speeding but she’d definitely be using the speeding limit range to the fullest. Eijirou is coughing up a storm, luckily there are trash bags for instances like these. Ito was trying to keep calm, trying to keep her adrenaline from making decisions for her. It didn’t help that mid car ride Eijirou had another seizure, she knew how to handle those seeing as there wasn’t much she could do she kept an eye on him as she drove.

When she pulled into the ER parking lot, she swiftly found a spot and parked. Unlocking the car doors she gets out, grabs her purse and Eijirou’s bag from the back before getting Eijirou out of the car. “Come on hun, lets go'' She says trying to hide her worry in her voice even though Eijirou is half conscious. Shutting the door with her foot she is almost running with the boy in her arms. Dashing into the ER the doors open and she calls out “HELP I need help please!” A nurse comes over, all eyes are on them but Ito doesn’t care. “What’s wrong ma’am?” The nurse asked hustling over to her, Ito explained to her “My son has Cystic fibrosis, CIDP, and epilepsy and he’s been having a bit of a flare up for a week and he just got so much worse today. His fever is 102, he’s coughing more than usual, he can’t move there much on his own, and he says it feels like someone is sitting on his chest and pulling on his bones. He’s had two seizures today, and he’s barely alert. The nurse nods and calls for another nurse to grab a gurney. “Okay ma’am, what’s your son’s name and how old is he?” “His name is Kirishima Eijirou, and he’s14.” “Okay- set him on the gurney, we’ll take him to a bay room, follow us.” The gurney arrives and Ito places the boy on that, he’s a bit curled up still coughing and shaking hard. The other nurse takes the lead and pushes Eijirou to the bay area. Ito isn’t far behind the nurse she’d met with as they go down the hallways. The nurses grab a doctor and things get moving. Giving the doctor the run down after he introduces himself to Ito as Dr Shidori, the nurses are hooking Eijirou up to multiple wires, lines, and machines. While this is going on Ito is asked multiple questions about EIjirou like. “How long has he been having a flare up for?” “When did he start going down hill?” “has he eaten or consumed anything during his flare ups” “what medications and treatments is he on?” “Is he allergic to anything?” Ito didn’t have trouble answering their quickly asked questions as the staff moved like a well oiled machine.

Ito felt two different feelings tugging at her, wanting to stay with her son, and needing to leave him. She wanted to stay not knowing whether he’d live or, staying to keep her son calm and to let him know she hadn’t abandoned him but. She felt so out of place though with the rush of people around her, in a way feeling useless, able to do much of anything but stand there and watch and answer questions or give permission. She didn’t really know what to do about this, there were so many emotions running through her, anxiety, hope, hopelessness, sadness. Finally her answer was given to her when the room began to slow down and the doctor began to explain things. They allowed her to sit in the chair next to Eijirou's bedside. “Alright Mrs Kirishima, we’ve got some time to talk.” The doctor started, Ito nodded, brushing back her hair behind her ears. “First things first, Eijirou needs to be hospitalized, from what you’ve told me this isn’t the first time he would be hospitalized. The flare up he is having is proving that one, his stomach isn’t absorbing his food and that means he’s very vitamin, minerals and elementally deficient, which means his immune system is weak also. I’m sure you understand this right?” He asked before continuing, Ito nodded once more so the doctor kept going. “We can not do the same type of monitoring as an inpatient long stay hospital can. You know why and you know that places that you’ve taken Eijirou to before will be able to observe him, do better testing and care for him….Another reason I mention this is because cold and flu season is starting a little earlier than what I’ve expected and it would be safer for him to be admitted they get him all better before hand or see what needs to be done so we’re not just releasing him back out to get tens times worse to the point where it could be too late. We can do some of his breathing treatments and stuff here, but it won't be as efficient. I will have a nurse call in to the local children’s hospital, and they will get things sorted out from there.” Taking in a deep breath, Ito sighed “okay, when do you think he will be transferred?” “I will have a nurse call and will get right back to you with that answer” Ito could understand why the doctor didn’t have an answer for her on the spot and could appreciate his honesty. “Now about Eijirou, his body isn’t receiving or taking on the medications he’s being given and he’s not taking on food either but we will give him supplementary food seeing as first of all he might not have the energy to eat, second it will boost up his sugar wich he needs but for right now he’s getting everything through IVs. We’ve given him fever reducer, epileptic medication, we didn’t have the type that he is on right now but we have one that works for the majority of young patients his age. He’s also getting potassium which is another reason for his trembling, his muscles were so tense from lack of potassium. We gave him a mix of midazolam and vitamin D as well. We’re just here to monitor his condition and give him as much help as possible till he’s transferred.” Ito sighed for what felt like the millionth time, she hated having to have her son be hospitalized in a long stay facility but she knew it was gonna be good for him.

All she could do was nod, when the doctor left them be for the night in the ICU. She contemplated making a phone call, it was about ten pm now, much later and Ito was restless. She didn’t know if she should call Emily or not? The other definitely deserved to know but she didn’t know whether she should call her now. Maybe she should call when she’s got more information so she doesn’t have to call Emily twice? Why wait though? Eijirou just had a medical emergency, he could die tonight! Ito knew she wouldn’t be sleeping any easier if she didn’t at least try to call Emily. Grabbing her phone, she called her wife. She didn’t hope to hard for her wife to pick up. Knowing most of the time it was a varying range of hit or miss, and it was mainly miss.

A little shocked the woman had picked up, she smiles hearing Emily’s voice. “Hi babe, d’you call to say goodnight?” “u-um no actually, we need to talk….it's about Eijirou.” Ito’s voice trails and Emily can hear in her voice this isn’t good news at all. “O-okay, well I’m here, what’s wrong with Eijirou?” The military woman sighs, Ito explains to Emily that their son is getting sicker and is going to be admitted to a long stay hospital for a while to see if they can get him better. When Ito was done Emily spoke softly,“i-I’m sorry you have to go through this with him a-alone babe. I-I wish I could be there I really really do.” you could hear sympathy but also regret. There were many days and nights where Emily contemplated her career path. Why would she join the army when she had a chronically ill son at home!?! Why didn’t she stay to help? Why put all of this on poor Ito who took the job of being a parent and business woman just to go back to her home country and join the military?!

It seemed selfish but this was her dream. Emily from a young age wanted to carry on the legacy of going into the military for her family. She had the dedication and spirit for it and when opportunity struck she took it but. She contemplated her choices. It was a year after Eijirou was born when she started to really contemplate going into the military and was given the chance. Ito and her talked it over numerous nights and Ito supported her the entire way there when the decision was made. Emily knew she’d be leaving her wife and son behind eventually but they didn’t know what she’d be leaving Ito to deal with as Ejirou’s sickness didn’t show up completely until he was six. Emily had left a year before then and when Eijirou was first diagnosed with CF and epilepsy it broke her heart, especially since he would be hospitalized for a long stay for the first time. She knew that for both Ito and Eijirou that being hospitalized and not being able to see the other as frequently as they would’ve before can be a bit traumatic. Still Ito always reassured Emily that she didn’t have to give up on being in the military for them, that they were fine.

Ito could hear the regret in her wife’s voice and spoke gently. “Emi, you have nothing to be sorry for. I know that you always feel bad for leaving me with Eijirou but. We made this decision together, and I don’t ever want you to feel bad about this. This was inevitable once we found out Eijirou was chronically ill and sure things would be a bit easier if you were here but, we’re doing great. I know that you wish you could be here in person to support us but, we feel your support all the way from North america...We love you so much Emi, you’ll be able to facetime him, and who knows, maybe you might be able to see him in person.” “Th-thanks Ito, i-i….I just hope he gets better, or I’ll at least be able to see him soon...I miss you both so much.” her voice cracking at the end Ito could tell her lover was crying. It hurt her to hear the other so upset, and she could understand why the woman felt this way. “Hey babe, I’ll update you when I get more information okay….I love you” “Okay love, I love you too.” They hang up, Ito puts her phone into her purse and gets herself comfortable in the hospital so she could try and get some sleep.

In the morning a nurse came in to check on Eijirou as well as inform Ito about the long stay at the hospital. They discussed the hospital, about how long Eijirou would stay there and who they’d talk to about treatment plans. Truthfully Eijirou’s stay duration would depend on how his body responds to treatment and Ito knew this, this wasn’t new information so luckily the discussion wasn’t very long, Eijirou would be admitted in by tomorrow morning. The day was rather boring, calling her work to tell her about her son being hospitalized as a way of keeping them informed and ready for any random call off days. Since she had the time, she headed home and backed a two week stay bag of clothes and things she knew he could take with him to the hospital.

Conversations with doctors, filling out papers and making sure everyone was on the same page, Eijirou was soon transferred to Tokyo’s children's long stay hospital.

#chronically ill Kirishima #chronically ill BNHA au #no quirks #polyamourus pride

4 notes · View notes