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super-predictable98 · 1 year ago

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The Nightingale Girl (Good Omens AU)

Chapter 1: On a Rainy Day You Can See Forever

Word Count: 2 k

Warning: Strong language, very mild sexual content

a/n: Hello everyone, so as most of you know, English is my second language, so forgive me for any mistakes. I've been so in love with Good Omens lately and I just decided to start a new series. You can all expect more Michael Sheen and David Tennant related fics as well as more chapters in the future. Hope you all enjoy it <3 Oh, and this contains SPOILERS for season 2 of Good Omens

Rain was pouring and Aziraphale was looking through the glass of the front door of the bookshop. Cars would pass by splashing water everywhere and disturbing the mirror puddles on the pavement that reflected the London sky.

What he didn't notice was a young lady approaching the door in a black coat, her hood covered her face nearly entirely, and the only visible parts of her were her mouth and nose.

"Sorry, dear, we're closed," he said when he finally noticed she stopped in front of him.

"I know, but I... I'm soaked, can I come inside just for a moment?" She asked.

"Oh, of course," as usual, he was completely unsuspecting. He just saw someone who needed help and helped, being an angel he just couldn't resist.

Aziraphale opened the door and let the young lady in. She carefully dried her bright pink combat boots on the doormat before stepping inside.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Can I take your coat? Would you like some tea? Maybe a towel?" He offered.

"That would be nice, thank you."

"And what is your name, dear?"

"Rhiannon," she said, finally taking the coat off and exposing her hypnotic beauty.

She had bright brown eyes like the night sky, very pale skin, a captivating smile, and long hair in a middle part. One half was dark red and the other was pure white.

"Oh my- that is an interesting look... must be pretty hard to maintain."

"Not really, I was born like this. The doctors think it might be some sort of pigmentation issue."

"You were born with-" Aziraphale's voice disappeared when he noticed she had his smile, but Crowley's eyes. Not the snake-like ones he had now, but the ones he had when he was created, before the fall.

To make it even more daunting, she had a nose that looked like his own, but expressive eyebrows that looked like Crowley's.

"Hey, Angel, how did you- holy hell!" Crowley nearly dropped the plant he was carrying when he saw the girl standing there. "How did she...?"

"She was born like this," Aziraphale whispered before turning back to Rhiannon. "I should get us some tea."

"Wait no! Don't leave me alone with this... creature!" Crowley hissed.

Aziraphale didn't even listen, he had something to look for while the water boiled.

He had gotten a letter right after the apocalypse nearly happened, he never understood what it said, but it must be true since the sender was Agnes Nutter herself.

The note inside said: Angel shall not lie with angel, heavenly or fallen. For if two angels fall in love the consequence is a fruit made of two unmatching halves that might fall in a distant garden but shall roll until it hits your feet.

"Oh no... oh no!" He cried. "What have we done?"

When Aziraphale came back with the tray in hand, he was terrified of what he was going to find, but then he heard... laughter.

When he walked into the room, Crowley was laughing like a maniac while Rhiannon told him some story about how she got a teacher fired by organizing a riot in class.

"We had proper flags and chants, I really put my soul into it," she smiled.

"I see you two are getting along," Aziraphale chirped. If that girl was really who he thought she was, it was good they were getting along.

"Oh yeah, Rhiannon is great," Crowley nodded.

That was odd, the demon never warmed up to someone so quickly. Most times he didn't warm up to them at all, but she got under his skin.

She takes after him, I see... the angel thought as he served the tea.

"Rhiannon, do you live around here?" He asked, trying not to sound too curious.

"I just moved to London from Italy. My mother is British but my dad is Italian," she explained.

"Your dad! Yes, how lovely!"

"I was actually born here, they adopted me right before I turned two."

"Oh dear... that is a wonderful story," Aziraphale cleared his throat and handed the note to his partner. "Crowley, would you take a look at this?"

The demon read over the note a couple of times before it clicked and his mouth fell open. He looked from the girl to Aziraphale and back to her, that little nose... that smile... those cheeks!

"Shit!" He cried.

"Is everything okay?" Rhiannon asked.

"Yes, everything is tickety-boo," Aziraphale assured calmly. "If you don't mind me asking, did you ever wonder about your biological parents?"

"I tried to look for them when I turned eighteen, but the orphanage didn't know a thing. I was left by their door without a trace of anything. Not even a blanket, no letter, no basket, just... me. They had no way of knowing where I came from."

"And how old are you now?" Crowley asked.

"I'm twenty-four, I turn twenty-five next December," Rhiannon sipped on her tea without a suspicion in the world.

"That tracks actually. Remember? That was the first time when we.." Crowley whispered and was quickly cut off by his partner.

"Yes! Yes, I do remember that!" Aziraphale murmured, blushing from head to toe.

"What are you two talking about?" The girl laughed.

"We... we have reason to believe that you are... related to us."

"What?" She stared at them confused.

"You see, we're partners. We think you might be our daughter."

"Am I missing something? I don't think that's physically possible. I wouldn't mind having gay dads, but two men can't really accidentally have a baby."

"That's easy, we're not men," Crowley shrugged. "I did feel a little morning sickness around that time..." he joked.

Rhiannon looked down at her long hair and frowned. She had no idea how to feel, that was a very weird and confusing situation at best and a cruel joke at worst.

"Why do you think that?" She mumbled.

"The resemblance is uncanny. You have so much of both of us," Aziraphale smiled. "And um, we got a prediction once that warned us about your existence."

"What does that mean? I don't understand, you're not men, but you're not... what? How?"

"He's an angel," Crowley said, knowing his partner would just dance around the issue and if she really was theirs, she had to know. If she wasn't, he could always erase her memory or something of the sort.

"I know, he's really sweet, but-"

"No, I don't mean figuratively. He's an angel, I'm a demon. Apparently when angels or fallen angels get together for the first time... you happen."

Without another word, Rhiannon's vision went black and she fainted.

"Why did you have to be so blunt? She was clearly having a hard time processing it!" Aziraphale whispered angrily while the girl's head was on his lap.

"I thought it was easier to get it over with like taking off a plaster, I didn't think she'd pass out," Crowley hissed back.

"Well, she's sensitive, she's my daughter!"

"We don't know that yet and if she is, she's also my daughter which should make her pretty tough."

"Ah, I know how tough you are... couldn't even slaughter a bunch of goats that one time!"

"The goats didn't do anything, why would I do that?"

Rhiannon slowly opened her eyes and saw Aziraphale staring back down at her with a gentle smile.

"Oh! She's awake! Hello, dear, how are you feeling?" He asked calmly.

"My head hurts..."

"I can fix that!" He carefully placed his fingers on her forehead and with the help of a tiny miracle, made her feel brand new. "Better?"

"Actually yes," she mumbled. "I guess that makes you really an angel. And you..."

"Really a demon, I'm afraid," Crowley took off his glasses, exposing his yellow snake eyes.

"Jesus Christ!"

"No, just me, but I've met him once. Really nice fella, too bad what happened with the cross and everything."

She didn't get it, did one of them get pregnant with her? No, definitely not, they seemed just as surprised as she was. Did she just magically appear somewhere with little red and white curls? Just knowing she wasn't actually abandoned took a weight off her shoulders she never knew she carried.

"How do we know for sure? I don't imagine you can order a DNA test," Rhiannon chuckled. "Your blood is probably... I don't know... glittery and fluorescent."

"Oh no, these bodies are perfectly human, dear," Aziraphale laughed. "But you were not made from our DNA, you are a miracle."

"And who do we know that can check out if a miracle happened and where it took place?" Crowley looked pointedly at his partner.

"Muriel! Of course!"

The angel who had been reading a book, carefully not listening to the conversation (after all, it was private), lifted her head when she heard her name.

"Yes?" Muriel smiled and looked at their guest. "Oh hello! When did you get here?"

"Who's that?" Rhiannon asked.

"That's my new assistant, since the last one moved away," Aziraphale explained. "Muriel, we need a big favor."

"Anything, what can I do?" She put the book down.

"Go upstairs, check the miracle records, 22nd of December 1998 around... 10 P.M was it?" Crowley gestured, asking for confirmation.

"Between 10:24 and 11:15," Aziraphale nearly whispered.

"Wow! At least now we know where I got my stamina from," Rhiannon joked which made Crowley chuckle proudly.

"So please check what happened that day, how many Lazarii was it, and where it took place," Aziraphale whispered as if someone else could hear it even though there was no one else there.

Muriel nodded and waved before she left with a big grin, happy to have her own little mission.

"Now what?" Rhiannon asked.

"Now we wait," Crowley groaned.

She leaned back in her chair, but suddenly her vision became hazy again. Only this time she did not faint, the room she was in crumbled before her eyes and she saw the bookshop from the outside. She was standing on the sidewalk on a beautiful sunny day, wearing a completely different outfit, and her hair was tied up in a ponytail.

"How did I get here?" Rhiannon mumbled to herself, not understanding what happened.

"Come on, Ann. Your father isn't doing so well right now," Crowley said, holding his hand out for her.

"What? Dad! Dad!" She screamed out of the window, seeing Aziraphale inside. She somehow knew that she was his and for some reason, she knew something bad was happening.

Aziraphale looked at her with a sad smile and waved, mouthing goodbye.

"He's leaving," Crowley pretended not to care, but behind his sunglasses, his eyes told another story.

"Leaving? Where is he going?"

"Heaven, he'll become an archangel or something."

"Dad! Don't leave me, don't leave us, Dad!" She pleaded, but it was useless.

Rhiannon started to cry, so human as she is, and Crowley took her in his arms, awkwardly rubbing her back.

"You're not leaving too, are you?" He asked.

"No, I'm not going anywhere, Dad," the girl hugged him fiercely. "Let's get to your flat, the plants need water."

And just like that, Rhiannon was back to the moment she was before the vision. Nobody was crying or distressed, everything was peaceful again, and the rain was still pouring outside.

"Hey... I think I just saw the future," she breathed, not even believing her own words.

"You did?" Aziraphale asked, intrigued.

"Yeah, and it's not good!"

Tag List: @jozstankovich @elliethesuperfruitlover (message me to be added to the tag list)

#good omens #good omens fanfic #aziraphale x crowley #good omens oc #good omens au #fanfiction #multichapter

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marshmallowprotection · 1 year ago

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I want to switch up GE Saeran's honeymoon tour of countries and just take him to Ireland. Let's go on a scenic tour of Ireland, of rolling hills and mountains and so much greenery and flowers and just, so much prettiness. The fields and hedges look like patchwork.

There are so many pictures to take, honestly, nature is *incredible* here!

I want to take him to all of the landmarks in nature and forests and tell him all of the goofy folk tales. And *have that picnic,* for goodness sake. 😂 Many picnics! We can go to little traditional country cafes and restaurants too.

It's cold though. Saeran, prepare for chilly weather 80% of the time. Rain and clouds and grey skies!! I want to see him in a cute bulky coat though, and splash in little puddles with boots on. And huddle under an umbrella as we shiver down a cobblestoned sidestreet.

And!! We also need to get some pictures at The Giant's Causeway in N.I. It's a world heritage sight! It's some sort of anomaly of nature where these weird-lookin' pentagonal rocks were formed by a volcanic eruption ages and ages ago.

I need to get some pictures of Saeran walking on them. Hopping on his tiptoes. I think he'd love it. It's so strange, but beautiful.

I also wanna see him climb up to the top of this rock mountain here, and get a powerful picture of him just looking...totally *free.*

The original trip he planned goes from Seoul — New York — Mexico. He was able to put that together thanks to Jumin’s recommendation. However, I imagine the trip would be more personalized depending on the MC. So, of course, there’s not a doubt in mind that he would love to explore your home country with that bright smile on his face.

I was already on your side when you said you were going to take him on a picnic. He deserves that picnic more than anything in the world and it's a shame he's been denied it over and over again by the narrative.

It's even more poetic for you to take him on a picnic in a country that is known for its sprawling greens and winding fields of breathtaking sights. He may not be able to see the sky, but he can see the clouds, and looking at the clouds feels like looking at the sea. Those clouds tell a story and he wants to trace shapes in them with you.

Do you think you could get him to laugh, and smile with a breathless grin, as he stands on what feels like the top of the world?

Do you think you can get him to look back at you would that look on his face as he extends his hand to you to join him because what is the world if not something he wants to share?

#sheepsdreamworld #mod kait #ask #mystic messenger #mysme #mysticmessenger #choi saeran #saeran choi #mm #ge saeran #saeran #saeray #saeran mystic messenger #saeran mm #saeran mysme #mysme saeran #mystic messenger saeran #mm saeran

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cloudbattrolls · 1 year ago

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I'll Bring Thunder (I'll Bring Rain)

Gliese Benral | Block 136 | Present Night

Gliese was no weather-witch, but causing light showers on what was already a cloudy night wasn’t too hard for her. Quilis’s library was a big help for references, but the actual casting hadn’t been too difficult, given she was restricting it to a small area of Block 136. The real challenge had been mapping out the exact area and calculating her spell around it.

She couldn’t resist adding a rumble of thunder or two, though, even if there was no actual storm on the way.

She walked through the streets with her blue and black umbrella, admiring her work as she drew closer to Nancor’s hive. Little puddles had formed in dips in the sidewalk, plants growing through the cracks welcoming the drink. She of course had flowers for Nan in her sylladex - peach-pink roses in a vase, the color she needed right now.

Kesiol had been good. But who knew if they would have stayed together, even if Kes hadn’t been killed? She wished they were still alive - she always did - but they probably would’ve wound up just being friends.

She passed by a bar, and saw a greenblood in a cape going in.

Aquila…

Yeah, that had been shot in the fucking face when Gliese had gotten drafted. She hadn’t been willing to endanger her borderline rebellious diamond and her limeblood matesprit. She hoped the eagle troll was still alive, wherever she was.

She thought of Cateex, the yellowblood’s disgust for highbloods, and snorted as a passing car nearly drenched her with a small wave before she jumped away. Yeah, that would’ve never happened.

She thought of Nancor. Always trying to help people. Optimistic, generous, but not dumb or naive. Funny, even if some of his puns were bad. Sweet. Deserved so much damn better than what he gave himself.

Sure, he’d die long before her. But that was life, yeah? You ran that risk even with higher castes; look at Kesiol. No one ever knew what would happen.

Brief or not, she was going to adore him, and she wasn’t going to regret a damn thing.

Her rain boots - daisy patterned - splashed through a current running down a street. She grinned.

Maybe she’d put a little more into the spell than she’d meant to. Nothing wrong with that.

She was going to invite him out in it. She was going to take his hand and ask him to chase the thunder with her.

She was going to tell him there was no one she’d rather chase it with, or to dance in the street once they’d stopped.

She would ask him to be her diamond. To hold him in her arms and remind him what he was worth.

He was so much more than anyone he had failed to save.

The spin of a flag. The love for his lusus. The crows who trusted him. The taxidermy he lovingly made.

The storms he pursued, lightning and deluge appealing to a guy as calm and even as him. Hell, maybe the difference was why.

Maybe the eye of the storm loved the maelstrom.

Gliese went up the steps of his building, and knocked loudly and clearly on the redblood’s door.

#cloud writes #gliese benral #[tally hall's spring and a storm playing somewhere]#it's a lot shorter than Jamie and Jikiro's confession drabbles. but hey. Gliese is a lot more direct #she loves that guy and she's just gonna say it

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tommyspeakycap · 4 years ago

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Genuinely think your one of the best peaky blinders writers out there. Do you think you could write something about little toddler Shelby and Tommy. Maybe little Shelby is out in the rain jumping in puddles? Love your work!!!

Thank you!! That’s so kind of you x

Puddles

Polly shakes her head in something of dismay as she holds a cup of tea snugly in her hands, keeping them warm against the winter chill that whips in the open window in front of her. “Mind your sister, Finn!” She calls out it, waiting until she got a “Yes auntie Pol!” yelled back to her from the 11 year old who had become somewhat accustomed to keeping a watchful eye over his only younger sibling. His answer seemed satisfaction enough for his aunt to nod her head and pull that window closed to maintain some semblance of heat in the house, but not enough for her to move away from said window to keep her own eye on the youngest Shelby sibling.

She stands cautionary. She knows better than to trust that Finn will do much to prevent his very clumsy five year old little sister from wandering off and getting herself hurt. (y/n) is notoriously like Thomas is all sorts of ways. She’s always getting into things she shouldn’t, hearing things she shouldn’t, seeing things she shouldn’t. She seems to sit back and observe a lot of things. They’re trying to grow her out of it.

Polly attributes it to the majority of her life being spent in a country torn by war. She was only nearly two when her brothers left, so naturally she didn’t understand much of what was going on. Everything was up in the air and now the war was over, it seemed l to the youngster that a war’s not just over when the fighting ends. It has also become clear that Tommy is her favourite sibling, so her similarities to him can often be attributed to her spending the most time with that brother.

Alas, in all her likeness to Tommy, she is much softer in manner than he is himself. Little (y/n) is like Tommy was when he was her age, incredibly inquisitive. Except softer. She chatters away to herself as she does things and though it takes her time to warm up to people, once she starts talking it’s hard to get her to stop for anything. She’s so kind and so very loving too, she laughs just like Tommy once did and it makes Polly’s heart happy deep down when that little girl falls asleep each night with a sweet little smile.

“Alright Pol?” Tommy greets as he comes through the back of the house from the betting shop to see his aunt standing at the window still. Polly nods, “Just watching to see if that bloody brother of yours is watching your sister like i told him to not five minutes ago.” She sighs as she takes another sip of her tea. Sure enough, Finn had not noticed his younger sister wandering off up the street subtly without even noticing in herself that she was getting further and further from the relative safety in proximity of her home and the brother who was supposed to be watching her. It seemed as though the puddles that filled certain uneven surfaces of the Watery Lane streets were more interesting, and finding more deep ones had stolen her full attention away from her surroundings. Tommy stands next to his aunt, leaning over slightly to spot his youngest sister slowly going further and further away than she should.

“Bloody hell,” Polly curses, sitting her tea down on the table beside her and reaching her hand to the handle of the window, “Don’t bother Pol,” Tommy interrupts her from opening the window fully and yelling for Finn to run and bring you back. Polly looks at him like he’s grown a second head, wondering if he’s completely lost his mind. He would usually have been the one giving Finn a stern word about making sure his sister was safe at all times. He just offered her a smile and says “I’ll get her.” simply, brushing past and grabbing his coat on the way. Polly furrows her eyebrows and watches as Tommy does a slight jog up the street until he nears (y/n) and then stops by her.

Her heart is suddenly warmed when the pair don’t turn back around to head home, but Tommy extends his hand to the little girl and she takes it gleefully to lead him on to find as many more puddles as they could before it got too rainy, cold and dark. He’s been so busy lately it had been a while since she had seen Tommy just be the brother of the little girl he loved so much.

Tommy relishes the feeling of his sisters little hand in his as they walk towards their uncles scrap yard, jumping in puddles along the way. She soaks the bottom of his trousers in dirty puddle water, but his heart sings with her giggles. “Tommy look!” She squeals, jumping in excitement as she spots a huge one near the window of the Garrison. She’s off a few feet before he can do anything other than open his mouth to speak. “Come on Tom!” She calls to him, “you’re so slow!” The tease draws laughter from him that only she can cause. He stops only for a moment in some form of mock shock. “Me?” He gasps, “Slow? Alright then miss speedy pants, wait there and i’ll race you.”

(y/n) does just that, waiting excitedly bouncing on the balls of her feet for Tommy to reach her, both standing still a good few meters away from the puddle near the pub. The streets are pretty empty given the weather conditions and Tommy’s reputation had gone out the window of his thoughts long ago. “Okay then,” (y/n) breathes, “3...2...1!”

The pair take off at a run, the little girl stealing the lead immediately as Tommy runs slower than he probably ever has to allow the five year old to scuttle ahead faster than him. She giggles, elated as she knows she’s in front of her brother. “‘M gonna beat you Tom!” She puffs out, little boots splashing through the barren street as he laughs from behind her. “Not if i catch you first!” He calls back, speeding up his run as he heard the little girl screech in shock at the sound of him getting closer. He can see her putting her all into running from him, looking behind her over and over, laughing only when she realises he’s far enough behind her or screaming again if he’s getting close.

Inside the Garrison, Grace hears a child’s scream and what sounds very much like Tommy Shelby shouting that he’ll get her. It makes her immediately peer out the window just in time to see what most people in Small Health never expect from the gangster.

He runs up behind his little sister quickly, scooping her into his arms with complete ease as she squirms, squeals and giggles loudly. “Faster than me ey?” He snarls playfully, fingers digging softly into her sides to tickle hysterical laughter out of the girl. “No Tommy! Never!” She shrieks, knowing well enough agreeing with her brother was enough to stop his tickles and it clearly is as he places her gently back down on her feet, a sheepish grin overtaking her little features as she looks up at him in adoration. It was widely clear how much she loved her big brother.

Grace moves to the doorstep of the pub, arms crossed over her chest to keep her warm against the chill. “Having fun, Thomas?”

He whips around at the sound of her voice, subconsciously letting go of his sisters hand in surprise, almost as if he was always ready to put up a fight and defend her with everything he had within a moments notice just as reflex. She knows better than to assume he wouldn’t cut anyone who came near that little girl. “Suppose so,” he shrugs when he realises it’s just the bartender he had become rather intrigued by. “Thought i would-“

The sound of loud, proud giggling and the feeling of water hitting the backs of his trousers immediately makes him whip around again, spotting his small little sister grinning up at him like a cheshire cat and his very own devilish glint in her little blue eyes as she stands in the middle of the puddle after having splashed water up at him. “Oh you little buggar. I’ll get you for that.” He threatens, taking a moment to get over his shock as (y/n) laughs at him again but is joined this time by the light giggle of the Irish bartender. That little girl only widens her cheeky grin, her innocence still leaking through her cheeky nature as she looks behind her, knowing her brother would have to run through the huge puddle to get her.

“Only if you catch me first.”

And just like that, the hardened Birmingham gangster bids a quick goodbye to his bartender and is off running through puddles with a five year old little girl who very coincidentally melts his heart of stone down to a puddle each and every single day.

#tommy shelby x sister reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby sister reader #shelby!reader #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders #little shelby

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mothra-mcyt · 4 years ago

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☾ "Don't worry i'm here now." ☽

platonic!Philza x reader

!Trigger Warning: aftermath of physical abuse, blood!

Summary:

After your biological angry father thought taking his anger out on you physically was the best idea, you ran out of the house. Not knowing what to do you called the person that would be able to comfort and help you most in that moment. Philza Minecraft.

2.2k words

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Moving your legs as fast as you could you felt rainwater slowly drench your feet. With every sharp breath you took in you could feel your lungs more hurting. The tears streaming down your face blurred your vision making it hard to see where you're going but you could care less.

The only thing on your mind right now was getting away. Away from the danger that is at home.

What you didn't expect was to see your dad standing in front of you, brows furrowed in anger and beer bottle in his hand when you came home. You couldn't understand much about what he was shouting at you about but when he stomped down on your ribs while blaming you for loosing his job you began to understand what he was so raged about.

Thinking back to it you put your hand over where you know a boot formed bruise would probably form in purple colours.

You came back to your senses when you slipped in a puddle and slammed down onto the ground. A groan left your mouth feeling the already strong pain intensifying.

Trying your best at wiping away the tears forming in your eyes again to look around you saw where you ran.

The train station where you met Wilbur, Tommy, Phil etc. for the first time. Immediately memories started running through your head of seeing Tommy sprint out of the train, running up to you and hugging you as tight as he could. Or of Phil trying to hold you and Wilbur back from trying to steal a pigeon.

At the thought of Phil your eyes started to water again.

He always was there for you, always making sure you took care of yourself.

Never was mad at you when you made a mistake.

He was always so nice and gentle, you didn't want to bother him with your family problems.

None of you talked about it but both of you knew he was basically your father figure.

"Maybe i should call him...but wouldn't i just annoy him i did that... fuck it."

Thankfully you remembered to grab your phone when you started sprinting through the front door onto the sidewalk in a panicked state. Carefully taking it out of your pocket a curse left your mouth. The water of the rain soaked through your pants making your phone wet. Praying to whoever is out there you hoped that it wasn't broken.

A sigh of relief left your mouth when your phone screen lit up showing your familiar background image.

"Dammit. Only 23% left."

Unlocking your phone you immediately went to your contacts. Tapping on Phil's name you were about to press on the call button but you hesitated.

"Is this really a good idea...what if he's busy right now..."

Not realising it your finger accidentally pressed on the call button. Panicking you were about to stop the call but Phil already picked up.

"Hey mate what's going on. Why did you call me?"

Completely frozen you tried to think of a way to get out of this situation but before you could say anything Phil's voice started coming out of the phone again.

"Wait a minute. I hear rain. Are you outside?! It's in the middle of the night! Why are you outside?!"

"I- I'm sorry Phil. I don't know. I don't know anymore."

"Where are you, Are you okay?!"

"I'm at the train station Phil. The one where You, Wilbur, Tommy and the others met me for the first time."

You tried to your best to hide the fact that you were crying in your voice but apparently it didn't work well enough.

"Isn't that like really fucking far away from your home? Also are you crying? You sound like you're crying. Are you okay mate? Please talk to me."

Not being able to stop yourself a sob left your mouth. When you tried to open your mouth again to answer him just more sobs came out.

"Fuck shit okay i'll drive to you. Stay out of the rain and try to get somewhere warmer. I don't want you getting fucking sick. Just go to the toilets or something okay. I'll be there as fast as possible. Stay on the ca-"

It broke off before he could finish. Confused you looked down through blurry vision at your phone clutched in your hands. The screen was black. Frustrated you shoved your phone back into the front pocket of your hoodie.

"Of course the battery had to go empty at this exact time."

Mumbling to yourself you pulled the hood over your head before you went back into the rain to get somewhere warmer. Hoping that your memory for once wasn't gonna betray you you started to walk in the direction where you remember the toilets being.

Thankfully there was a single gender neutral bathroom stall so you don't have to worry about someone coming in and hearing you crying.

Pushing down the handle you stepped into the bathroom. It was bigger than a normal stall would be because it was also for disabled people. The floor looked like it was cleaned not long ago. There was some graffiti next to the door looking like someone tried to scrub it off but gave up.

Stepping to the sink you glanced up into the mirror to see how much of a mess you looked like.

There were obvious marks of a hand on your neck from where he choked you. It may have been only for a few seconds but it was still strong enough to make you shiver just from thinking back to it. Some dried blood that trickled down your forehead from where the green glass beer bottle crashed into your head. If you looked long enough you could see a fading handprint at your left cheek.

"Damn i look like a fucking mess."

Turning on the sink you looked down at your hands. There was some blood on your fingers from when you wiped away the blood running from your nose. Holding them under the water you immediately flinched away feeling how cold it was.

Taking a deep breath you put them under the stream again and started washing the blood away from your hands away first. Forming them to bowl you held them under the water. Knowing this is not going to feel great you splashed it on your face. Immediately regretting your decision you gasped for air.

Feeling it slowly running down your face you took some papers and dried the remaining water and blood off of your face. After throwing them in the trash can you looked back up into the mirror. Even without the scabs and dirt you still looked like a mess. With a sigh leaving your mouth you made your way over to the toilet and sat down on the closed seat. About to put your head in your hands you jumped when you suddenly heard a voice from outside the door.

Slowly starting to recognise the voice you quickly stood up.

"Da- Phil? Is that you?"

Raising your voice only a little to avoid other people other than him hearing it you stepped closer to do the door to listen more closely.

"Yeah it's me, i'm here now. Can you open the door mate? I wanna make sure you're safe."

Hesitating for a moment you slowly wrapped your fingers around the door handle. Carefully opening it you stared down at the ground making your hair shadow your face in hopes of hiding how much of a mess you are or maybe because you weren't able to look him in the eyes, too ashamed to let him see you in this state.

"Can you please look up at me?"

Tears started forming in the corners of your eyes when you looked up at him. You were surprised at seeing how much worry and concerned was showing on his face but also at how shocked he looked.

"Who . . . who did this to you?"

Not being able to hold it back any longer sobs started leaving your mouth. Tears started spilling when you felt Phil wrap his arms around you and pulled you in a tight embrace. Gripping the back of his shirt you felt him putting his hand against the back of your head. He pushed your head against his chest making your tears soak up the fabric of his shirt but he could care less right now.

"Take your time don't worry. I'm here for you and i promise i won't let go."

Slowly starting to calm down again, eyes dry from crying so much you still didn't wanna let go. This is the most comfort you ever felt in your entire life you were sure. But knowing you sadly couldn't stay like this forever you carefully pulled your arms back and stepped back a little. You tried wiping away the remaining tears but it only resulted in your cheeks getting even more wet from your rain soaked hoodie sleeves.

"Let's first get you to somewhere warm and safe. My house is closer so i'll just drive to my place if that's alright with you mate."

Seeing you nod was enough was enough of a response for him so he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and started walking to the exist. Or at least you thought it was in that direction. You don't really remember anything from before you went in the bathroom stall leading to you realising you probably dissociated the whole way here. Probably better that way.

After a while of just trusting Phil with where you two were going you stopped next to what you presumed was his car. Stepping in front of you he opened the door of the passenger seat and let you get in. Closing the car door you immediately relaxed feeling the warmth around you.

When he got in he quickly glanced over making sure you were okay before he started driving. You didn't really remember much from the car ride besides him asking you if you were okay every other 5 minutes to which you always responded with a small nod. Knowing at some point he's gonna want a better response from you but for now that was enough to satisfy him thankfully.

Slowly coming back to the real world you looked out of the window to your left and saw Phil's house. You don't really remember much from when you were here the last time one of the things that was still in your memory that it was bigger than you expected. But it felt comfortable and like there was put a lot of thought and detail into his home.

Jumping a little in surprise at Phil opening the car door he tried to help you out of the car but deciding to ignore him you started to get up.

"For fucks sake just let me help you you stubborn child."

A sigh of annoyance left you but you took his hand and let him take you out of the car.

"I'm gonna be honest Da- Phil i thought i was the one who was going to have to help you out of the car since you're becoming so old-"

"Shut!"

A giggle left you making him give you an obviously joking annoyed look. God you missed these interactions so much. Not like you two stopped having them they just felt a lot better in person rather than over discord or when calling.

Letting him walk to the door you stepped under the roof and waited for him to open it. Glancing behind you one last time you saw that the rain was still going strong but now you wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. Cautiously you stepped into the warmth of what you would love to call home and let Phil close the door.

Bending down you took off your wet shoes. A feeling of disgust went through you feeling how soaked your socks were. Standing up straight again you looked around confused because you didn't see Phil anymore. Immediately panic started rising in you. Feeling your heartbeat getting faster you quickly stepped further inside.

"Phil?!"

Trying your best to hide the anxiousness you heard the quick footsteps of a concerned Phil letting you know you failed miserably at it.

"You okay? What's wrong? What happened i was just getting dry and more comfortable clothes for you."

Slowly tears started forming and when you tried to speak your voice cracked.

"I- I don't know. I just thought maybe maybe you left because i-"

Noticing you starting to panic he put his hand under your chin making you look up at him.

"I am not going to leave you. I am not going to hurt you. No matter what i will stay with you. If you need something i will be there to help you. If you're ever sad i'm there to comfort you. No matter how long you cry i won't let you go until you're feeling better."

Not knowing what to do you rubbed away the tears that were about to fall.

"Thank you. Thank you so much Da- Phil-"

"Don't worry you can call me dad."

Registering his words the corners of your mouth went up forming a smile.

"Now come on. Here are better clothes to wear. Don't want you getting sick."

Masterlist

#philza x reader #mcyt x platonic reader #mcyt x reader #philza x you #philza x y/n #philza minecraft x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

In between the city walls of dying dreams

This if for @buckyownsmylife 2k challenge. I chose the character Andy Barber and the AU ex-con.

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); somnophilia, drugging, breeding, oral, fingering.

This is dark! (ex-con) Andy Barber x shy!reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: One night, you’re saved by the last person you expect, but you don’t know that he’s only saving you for himself.

Note: So I woke up at like 4am and couldn’t sleep. My biggest mistake during my insomniac fits are scrolling tumblr and then I see a writing challenge and decide, hey I hate myself enough to write 6k+ words for a tatted up Andy Barber so here we are.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The streets were shiny and slick as the rain pattered across the pavement and the eaves trickled loudly. The door of the convenience store chimed as you stepped out into the drizzle with a plastic bag hanging from your elbow. It was late and you were eager to be home after a ten-hour shift, your return delayed by your visit to the shop.

A man stood beneath the beaming ‘lotto’ sign and you kept your head low as you passed him. He kept his hood up but you recognized the grey sweater. You had waited behind him as he paid before you and offered only grumbles to the cashier. You weren’t too talkative yourself although the clerk recognized you from frequent visits. You only lived a block away and it was one of the only places open after your evening shifts.

Your boots splashed through shallow puddles as you passed by the alleyway you took in the daytime, keeping to the halo of the streetlights along the grimy stretch. You had no illusions about the neighbourhood and it often reminded you of its vices. If you kept quiet and faded into the background, it couldn’t eat you up. Living downtown meant that you had to learn to ignore the alarm bells in your head and just keep going. Be vigilant but don’t be bold.

As you cleared the mouth of the alley, you heard footsteps emerge behind you. You picked up your pace and gripped the strap of your purse slung across your torso. You pulled out your phone and angled it to see the shadow following you.

There was a shawarma shop on the next corner. You could hide out there until the creep got tired and left. It was your usual trick and the owner, Mo, was especially skilled at scaring away the rabble.

The man got closer and you gulped. You would have to start running if he got any closer. You thought of swinging at him with your plastic bag, the bottle of vitamin water would give him a good knock. You walked faster and squeezed your phone as you brought up the dial pad. There was no one you could call who would get there fast enough.

You tripped and felt the hand on your arm. You were spun back against the wall and you threw your bag around to hit your accoster. It bounced to the ground as it was batted away and the plastic bag tore in half. The bottle of vitamin water rolled over the curb and your can of soup was dented on impact. The candy bar was tangled in the white plastic and you were trapped against the brick.

“Wallet.” The man’s knife slid from the handle with a threatening whisper. “Phone!”

He wrestled your cell from your grasp as the blade kept you from resisting. He cut the strap of your purse and yanked it free from your body. Shit. That can of soup would likely be your only meal for the rest of the week… if he didn’t stab you anyway.

You readied yourself for the worst but it never came. You were suddenly released as the man was shoved away from you and the blade clattered to the ground. The stranger in the grey hood kicked his ass so he sprawled across the pavement and bent to grab the blade. He retracted it and booted the mugger a second time.

“Stay down.” He warned as he knelt to pick up the can of chicken and rice and the dark chocolate. He fished the vitamin water from the gutter but the seal had broke and it was mostly gone.

The mugger groaned and pushed himself to his hands and knees. The other man stood and pushed down on his back with his thick sole until the attacker was on his stomach.

“I’m gonna crush your ribs if you don’t get outta here. Now.” He jabbed the mugger’s side sharply. “Go!”

The man scrambled up to his feet and wheezed. He stumbled away and the other watched him until he disappeared. Finally, he turned to you and held out your goods. You took them shakily and shook your head at the vitamin water. He bent to grab your purse and your phone and held them out in turn.

“You okay?” He asked.

You nodded and took them shyly. You never said much to anyone but even if you tried, you expected your voice wouldn’t rise. You huffed at the broken strap of your bag and the scratch across the back of your phone. The screen protector was a spider web of cracks and you were thankful it wasn’t entirely fucked.

You clung to everything and warily sidestepped the man. You dropped the wet bottle in the stinking bin behind him and turned back. You looked at him and froze. He was taller and broader than the man who attacked you. He still held the knife and could do worse.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“It’s fine.” He slid the knife into his pocket. “He didn’t cut you?”

You shook your head again. Even as his face was shrouded in shadows, you couldn’t look directly at the man. You never really looked anyone in the face, you often spoke to their shoes or the void above their heads.

“You live far?” He asked and again he received a negative gesture. “You want me to walk you? Or I can watch?”

Your eyes widened at the spatter of rain against the concrete.

“Miss,” he said with exasperation.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” You whispered as if convincing yourself too.

You slipped past him quickly and he stepped back with a surprised stammer. Your soles slapped the pavement as you rushed away from him. You couldn’t be sure he wasn’t as bad as the other man. He might follow you home and try to get even further.

But he didn’t pursue you. You didn’t hear his footfalls behind you, only the steady fall of rain.

“Good night,” you heard quietly as you got to the corner.

You didn’t look back and kept on around the bend. You sprinted all the way to your building at the end of the side street and fumbled for your keys at the door. You took a breath when you were inside at last. You were lucky but not many downtown were. That wouldn’t happen again.

🌆

After your close call, you didn’t return to the convenience store for several days and you only did so in the daylight. You had a rare day off and the spree of rain finally ceased. The sun beat down on the buildings and reflected hotly off the sidewalks. There wasn’t much to do, or much you could afford to do, so you didn’t do much in your free time.

You had to get out of your apartment, had to enjoy the nice day before you were once more trapped behind a desk. You walked up to the store and grabbed an ice cream bar from the freezer. You paid in change and claimed your treat with a tight-lipped smile.

As you approached the door, it swung outward and you retreated before you could collide with the other body. You muttered a sorry and stood aside as you waited for your path to clear.

“Hey,” the deep voice was familiar and sent a chill through you. “It’s you.”

You looked up at the man as the ice cream added to the cold flow through your veins. The same grey hoodie and broad shoulders. The man’s deep blue eyes shone beneath his tidy undercut and a thick beard trimmed his chiseled jaw. He was less sinister than the shadow you met days before.

Your eyes quickly flitted away as you remembered yourself and you looked at the door. You nodded as you cleared your throat. Speak, goddamnit.

“Thanks…again,” you croaked weakly. “S-sorry, I’m in your way.”

You tried to step around him but he was still firmly planted in front of the only exit.

“Wait,” he said gently, “Hey, I… don’t wanna seem weird but I was worried about you.”

“You don’t know me,” you said quietly to his shoes.

“Yeah, but that’s a scary thing to deal with.” His voice was firm but comforting, almost warm. Your eyes clung to the tattoo between his thumb and index finger.

“But…” you swallowed, your ice cream would start to melt soon. “You helped me. I’m okay now.”

“Well, good,” he said and finally moved. “I’m happy I could help.”

“Thanks.” You reached for the door but he beat you to it. He pushed it open and held it for you, forcing you to brush against him as you left.

“Be safe.” He called after you as the door chimed and you stumbled out onto the sidewalk, barely missing another pedestrian.

You crossed the street and stepped over the low hedges between the café and the pawn shop. The small park was oddly peaceful amid the chaos of the city and you didn’t mind sitting under the shade of the fragrant leaves. You sat at an empty picnic table and unwrapped the chocolate dipped bar.

You listened to the birds and watched the squirrels as you ate. You pulled out your phone but didn’t have enough data left to do much. You put it down as you licked clean the little wooden stick and shoved it back into the wrapper.

You flinched as a shadow blotted out the sun and you blinked up at the figure as it stopped before you.

“You again.” He smiled and your eyes fell back to the grass around his boots.

You crumpled the empty wrapper nervously and let out a nervous, “heh, yeah.”

“I’m not… following you.” He said and chuckled. “I know we kinda keep running into each other but I swear, I’m not some creep.”

You nodded and watched his fingers straighten. The ink on his knuckles made you nervous.

“Can I sit?” He asked.

You looked beside you as he pointed to the bench and you shrugged. “Could I stop you?” You uttered.

He turned and sat beside you. He took a breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a pack of smokes. He opened it and offered you one. You shook your head and he closed the carton, tucking it away without taking one himself.

“I won’t smoke around ya then,” he said. “I’m Andy.”

He held out his hand and you eyed it. Your lashes fluttered nervously and you squeezed the garbage. He waited patiently. You felt the heat on your neck and you reached to shake his hand. He gripped yours firmly and his strength made your wits flurry. You gave him your name and looked down at your lap as he let go of you.

“I don’t blame you not wanting to talk to strangers. Especially around here.”

You stayed quiet and twisted the wrapper around the stick. Your leg jiggled and he ran his nails over his jeans.

“Maybe you’re just shy and that’s okay too. I just thought, well, there’s a lot of shady characters around here and it’s good to have someone lookin’ out for ya.” He scratched his beard and leaned back against the table. “I just wanted to say that if you see me around and you need someone to scare off the other hounds, I’m more than happy to give them a good bite.”

You pushed your tongue against your cheek and stilled your leg. You nodded.

“Alright,” he stood and the whole table shifted with his weight, “Now, I’ve said my peace. You take care of yourself.”

“Thanks,” you wrung your hands around the bending popsicle stick entwined with the wrapped.

“Oh, and… I think I grabbed the right one.” He reached into his hoodie pocket and you noticed the awkward shape jammed into the pocket. He revealed the bottle and placed it on the table. “I’ll see you around.”

You stared at the label. It was the right flavour. You looked up and watched him head out along the path. He unzipped his sweater as he went on and pushed his hands into the pockets. You pinched your lip with your teeth and took the bottle of water. Maybe there were nice people in the city or maybe you were just that pathetic.

🌆

Back at your building, you were relieved to be out of the sun and the stifling humidity. It would be a rough summer and your box fan would do little to stave off the heat.

After your run-in with your hero, you decided to take a walk and finished the entire bottle in your casual stroll around the paths and the little creek on the other side of the park. It was later than you thought when you got back and fought with the jammed key slot.

You opened up the inner door of the lobby at last and grunted with frustration. Not only did the slot threaten to bend your key but the door was heavier than you. You climbed the first short flight of stairs and grabbed the old banister to continue your trip up the winding case.

You stopped as the platform above creaked and as another resident came down with a basket of clothes in hand. You stayed at the bottom to let them pass but as they descended, they stopped a step above you. Your name had your head up and your eyes, for the second time that day, met two stunning blue irises.

“I didn’t know you lived in this building,” Andy said as he cradled his laundry and turned to face you. “Small world.”

“I didn’t--” your words dwindled and you focused on the lip of the basket instead of his face. You didn’t talk to your neighbours, not since the old man had threatened to choke you in the lobby.

“I just moved in.” He said. “My first place since… well, the first place I’ve had to myself.”

“Oh,” you breathed and picked at your frilly shirt.

“Well, let me just get out of your way,” he angled away from the stairs. “I’ll probably see you around. Don’t hesitate to say hi.”

You nodded and gripped the railing as you continued up the stairs. As you reached the platform, you glanced back and he was still watching you. He smiled and finally turned away, heading towards the laundry room as he began to whistle. You climbed the next flight and took a breath.

Coincidences happened but you just couldn’t handle so many at once. Andy had been nothing but nice, he saved you from being robbed and he even replaced what he didn’t owe you. You just couldn’t believe it.

People could be good, they could be kind, just not in the city.

🌆

Your run-ins with Andy continued. You passed him in the hall several times before you realised he lived on the same floor. Your suspicions were confirmed as you grabbed your take-out and saw him unlocking the door only a couple away from your own. You even managed to drop your fliers on his boots when you were grabbing your mails.

Each time, he was friendly and each time, you barely said a word. He was a curious man. His tattoos labelled him as dangerous but his demeanour was welcoming and compassionate. He was entirely off putting and you lived in the city long enough to be wary. And you were shy enough to be evasive.

You were tired after another late shift. The bus ride had you yawning by the time you reached your stop and your short walk to the building was less than enjoyable as the usual weirdos were out with the full moon. You shoved your key into the slot and swore under your breath as it refused to turn.

Finally, it pivoted and you yanked on the handle as the door behind you swished open and closed. A hand grabbed the side of the door and helped pull it back all the way. You peeked over your shoulder as Andy held it and you thanked him with a squeak before heading through.

He followed you a few steps back as you started up the stairs.

“You work late a lot.” He said from behind you.

“Yeah…” you said as you turned up the next flight.

“You work far?”

“Not very,” you replied as you turned again.

“Yeah, I used to be on nights and that was hell.” He humoured as you pressed on.

Your toe caught on the lip of the top step and you went hurtling forward. You tried to catch yourself and cried out as you landed on your wrist and felt an agonizing twinge. You hissed and turned over, holding your arm as it throbbed.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked as he stooped to look you over.

Your purse had landed in the corner of the platform and your flat had slipped off in your descent. Embarrassed, you lowered your arm and nodded. “I’m fine. Just… hopeless.”

“Here,” he took your shoe from the step and slid it onto your foot. “Hey, it happens. I almost did the same thing the other day.”

He paused and you felt him staring. You looked him in the face nervously but his eyes weren’t on yours. You felt a tickle as he pulled your skirt back to your knee. You hadn’t realised how far up it had flown.

“Let me see your arm,” he said as you rested it on your leg.

“No, it’s fine, I--” You waved him away with your good arm and but he took your other gently and bent to look closer.

He tutted as he touched the flesh and you winced.

“It’s swelling,” he felt firmly along your wrist, “I don’t feel a break but a sprain is a serious thing.”

“How do you--” you stopped yourself. “I’ll be okay.”

“You need to wrap it.” He let go of your arm and stood.

He grabbed your other elbow and helped you to your feet. He stepped up onto the platform and scooped up your purse.

“You have something to wrap it? You’ll need the proper support.”

You shook your head. “It’s not that serious.”

“It is. You landed on it with all your weight. I’m surprised you didn’t break something.” He insisted. “I have something, I’ll wrap it for you.”

“Really, I can…” you voice fizzled as you tried to steady yourself. “I can do it myself.”

“But will you?” He kept his hand on your arm and guided you up the last steps to your floor. “Please, for my own peace of mind, let me help.”

You stared at the stained carpet as you stopped beside him. “Why?”

“Why are you so afraid of me?” He asked.

“I’m not-- I…” You frowned. “I just don’t know you. I-I-I’m just quiet.”

“I’ve tried to know you so why don’t you let me?”

You drew away from him and watched his hand drop. You stared at the tattoos and he curled his fingers.

“Oh, yeah, well, I guess I can start by being honest.” He sighed, “Yes, I’ve been to prison. I’ve been out for a year now, I’m finally off parole, I have a job, and I’m working to live a clean life. Is that it? You think I’m some goon?”

“No, I…” you looked at the floor again. “I don’t care about that. I’m just… I don’t know what to say to people so I don’t say very much.” You swayed nervously on your feet. “And no one ever really tried to hear me anyway.”

“Well, I can do the talking or we can both just say nothing, but please, you’re wrist, an untreated sprain can do a lot more damage.”

You tilted your head back and forth and another stab of pain went through your wrist. You nodded and looked to the wall. “O-Okay.”

“Alright,” he exhaled and nudged you lightly as he urged you down the hall.

He stopped at his door and you waited for him to unlock it. You stared inside as he pushed it open. You didn’t really know him and what you did know wasn’t reassuring. He was a convict and you were about to be completely alone with him.

“Or I can grab the bandage and meet you at yours?” He offered.

“No, no, I’m… tired. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said.

You entered and he followed. He put your purse on the small square table beside the shoe rack and you stepped out of your flats. He bent to untie his boots and left them beside your shoes. He urged you on and you looked around at the surprisingly cozy apartment. It was tidier than yours and smelled like fresh linen.

“I’ll be right back,” he gestured you to the living room and went down the short hall to closet at the very end.

You ventured past the couch as you looked around. There was a degree hung on the wall and you went closer to read it. You heard him searching the closet as you raised your brows at the framed certificate.

“Got it,” he entered and you turned away. “Ah, yeah, they disbarred me when I was charged but ah, well, it’s something to work towards. The old me.”

You bit your cheek as you stepped away from the wall and he beckoned you to him. He had you sit on the couch with your arm up as he pulled a chair close. He unwounded the beige bandage and placed the end against your wrist. He began to wind it around your arm and hooked it between your thumb and index. You watched him work and it calmed you. He pinned the loose end and placed your hand atop the cushioned arm of the couch.

“There.” He said as he sat back. “How’s it feel now?”

“A little better,” you pulled your hand into your lap. “Thank you.”

You stood awkwardly and played with the pleat of your skirt. “I should probably go.”

“If you want to or… I have some wine. It might help with the pain.”

“Oh?” You weren’t much of a drinker but you didn’t want to be rude.

“It was a gift from my parole officer since I can legally drink now. He said it better last me the next year but I haven’t even opened it. Don’t really have a reason to but… so you want a glass or should we say good night?”

You scrunched your lips and thought. You felt as if you owed him; for the night he chased away the mugger and then the park and now this.

“Uh, sure, but just a little. I don’t drink much.”

“No problem,” he stood and you sat back down.

He went to the kitchen and you listened to the clink of dishes and click of the cabinets. You looked down at your wrist and moved your fingers. Your wrist hurt a lot but the bandage alleviated some of it.

“I realised I don’t have any wine glasses,” he said as he approached, “So, I hope you don’t mind wine in a mug.”

He handed you a cup and sat down with his own. Yours had flowers around the rim and his read ‘Best Dad Ever.’

“Got ‘em from the Good Will,” he chuckled, “I’ve been meaning to replace them but you know, work.”

“Yeah,” you raised the cup and tasted the bitter red. You wrinkled your nose and he gave a low snort.

“Yeah, I never really liked cabernet but it was a gift,” he said and took a drink himself. “So what kinda work do you do?”

“I’m just a temp.” You tried another mouthful and nearly choked.

“Like office work?”

“Yeah, a floating secretary. Nothing special.”

“Mmm, yeah, I got a job down at the factory. Another favour from my parole officer but it’s not bad work.”

Your lips slanted as you thought. You didn’t say much but your face was good at filling the silence.

“What? Go on, ask it.” He leaned forward with elbows on his knees as he took another gulp.

You mirrored him and swallowed the sour wine. You wiped your lips with your sleeve and crossed your legs. “You said you were a lawyer before, isn’t it kinda… I dunno.”

“It’s different but it’s better than prison.”

“Yeah, I guess it would be.”

You looked down as silence laced the air and you didn’t know what else to do but finish the wine. You could leave then. You drained the cup and set it on the round table next to the arm of the couch. You blinked as you felt the buzz of the alcohol already.

“It might just be me, but that was strong,” you said.

“No, it is,” he put his mug down too, “like thirteen percent or something. I think maybe he was trying to sabotage me.”

You tried to laugh but it came out an awkward sniffle. You tapped your foot as you tried to think of what to do or say.

“Well, thank you but I think I should--” You stood so fast you got dizzy and nearly fell back as you held yourself up against the couch arm. “Whoo, okay, I’m going.”

“Yeah, alright,” he stood too. “It is late, I guess.”

“Mhmm,” you focused on your footsteps as you passed him and he followed you to the entryway. You took your purse and faced him. “Thank you.” You held up your wrist. “I owe you.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna say it myself but… you can repay me with one little thing.”

“Oh?” You pushed the strap of your purse up your shoulder as you slid your feet into your flats and swayed just a little.

“Finish the wine with me. I’m free on Saturday, we could order dinner and maybe watch a movie.”

You pouted in surprise and your eyebrows shot up. “Well, I…”

“Friends.” He said quickly, “That’s all. You pick the movie and I’ll bring the cabernet.”

You sucked in your lip and thought. He hadn’t done anything wrong to you. He had done more than he should have for you. And you were being stupid. He was older than you, certainly. The short greys poking out at his temples betrayed at least forty years and he was just another person trying to get by.

“Okay, I can do Saturday. I work till five, just a half-shift.” You explained. “Should I meet you here or?”

“Yeah, we can do it here.” He touched your shoulder and his hand slowly slipped down your arm. He reached past you and turned the knob and pulled open the door. You moved closer to avoid it hitting you and smelled his woodsy cologne. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” you backed through the door clumsily, “thanks.”

“Saturday.” He pointed at you and then his temple, “Don’t forget.”

“I’ll… try.”

You left him and felt him watching you until you reached your door. You didn’t look back as you let yourself in and locked it behind you. You heard his own shut and let out a breath. What were you doing?

🌆

You couldn’t forget your promise to Andy. You never made plans. You were content to be alone and watch old reality tv shows and forget about your responsibilities. You hoped instead that he might forget and spare you another awkward encounter. You were never a social butterfly and conversation was like pulling teeth. It wasn’t that you didn’t long for companionship, it was that it was so impossibly difficult.

But he was waiting for you. As you passed his door at 5:46, he opened it and nearly had you jumping off your feet.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.” He said, “Just a friendly reminder.”

“Yeah, I just need to get changed,” you fidgeted, “fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Take your time,” he smiled, “any thoughts on a movie yet?”

“No,” you cringed, “sorry.”

“Go on. I’ll be waiting. You can let yourself in.” He closed the door and you went onward to your own.

You pulled out your most comfortable jeans and a shirt that wasn’t too formal or casual. You changed and fixed your hair a little and switched your socks for less sweaty ones. You slid on some shoes and reluctantly left your apartment. You went to his and knocked before you dared to enter.

“So, uh, I know I said take out,” he called from the kitchen as you inhaled the scent of garlic, “but I got a bit carried away.” “Andy,” you kicked your shoes onto the rack and crept down the hall. “You didn’t have to--”

“I haven’t cooked like this in ages. Oh, and,” he turned as you peered in from the doorway and turned back with two wine glasses poured to the brim, “I got real glasses.”

“Wow, uh…” You took the stem and carefully held it so as not to spill.

“So how was work?”

“Slow.” You answered honestly.

“Saturday’s usually are,” he turned back and stirred the frying pan. “I’m almost done so why don’t you go look for something to watch and I’ll be out with dinner.”

“Okay…” you voice trailed away nervously. He wore a tee that exposed the rest of the tats that stretched up his muscular arms. You couldn’t help but stare at the skull that seemed to look back at you.

You went to the couch and sat in the corner. You sipped the wine and it still burned your nostrils and tongue. You set the glass down carefully and turned on the television with the remote.

You curled your legs up under you habitually and flipped through the titles. No rom coms, that’s awkward, and no horror movies or he’d pull that old high school trick. Maybe a war movie? Oh wait, that one’s about lawyers, that would be good. Or it might make him sad. Hmmm.

You settled on a superhero movie and waited with the intro paused. He appeared shortly with two plates and set them down on the coffee table as he sat beside you on the couch and pulled it closer.

“Nothing too special. I made my own spaghetti sauce though, so much better than the jarred stuff.” He combed his hair back as he set out your cutler with a napkin. “What are watching?”

“I’ve never seen this one,” you said as you hit play and the title flashed up, “Have you?”

“Oh, I don’t really watch that stuff but hey, never too old to start.” He picked up his fork and leaned forward. “Hope you enjoy. I might be a bit rusty. My-- People tell me I put too much garlic in everything.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” you pushed your legs over the edge of the couch and sat forward. You took your cutlery and carefully spun the noodles.

You were thankful for the loud crashes of the movie’s opening scene as it meant you could eat and not have to talk. The spaghetti was good and compared to your usual quick and easy meals in a box or can, it was gourmet. When you finished, you wiped your mouth and took a long gulp of the wine without thinking.

You sat back as you grew engrossed with the superheroes origin story and nearly forgot about Andy until he got up to clear the dishes. You offered to pause and he bid you to keep on. He was back in a moment and leaned back beside you. You squirmed and reached for your wine again. The taste was less stringent with each sip.

As the hero readied to face the villain, you emptied the glass and hugged yourself as a warmth glowed in your veins. You felt a hand on your leg as your eyelids drooped and you slumped into the couch. You could still feel the fingers as your fly was unzipped and you groaned as your limbs would not obey you.

The noise of the final battle faded and a heavy weight settled between your legs as tickles lined your neck and jaw, a final hungry kiss on your lips sealing your consciousness.

🌆

Andy’s POV

The wine was potent but Andy was sure to add a little extra kick. Her nerves kept her drinking the dark cabernet and she couldn’t taste the crushed pills through the acidity. He could taste the fermented grapes on her lips though and she moaned beneath him as he rolled her shirt up her torso.

He sat back to make sure she really was out. He snapped his fingers in front of her face and tapped her cheek. She mumbled but only lolled her head. He was done being patient with her. She was so shy it was enraging. He did everything he was supposed to do and she still wouldn’t even look at him. Oh, but she would feel him.

He ran his hands along her figure and basked in the warmth of her skin. How long had it been since he’d felt a woman beneath him? He didn’t like to think like that; didn’t like to remember the past and all he’d lost. He was trying to rebuild and this was the first step.

His hands settled on her stomach. It wasn’t flat and it was bit squishy, he liked that. He closed his eyes and pictured how it would grow. He would be a father again, and a husband. He would be the man he once was.

He shuddered and opened his eyes. He stripped her shirt off completely and bent to catch her nipple in his mouth as it spilled from her bra. He reached around her to unhook the bra entirely and yanked it from under her. She twitched but could not wake as he sucked at her tit and then the other.

He recalled that night on the street when he chased off that other man. It wasn’t the first time he saw her, in fact he had followed her to the store. She didn’t notice him slip in behind her or that he paid for a magazine he wouldn’t read. He remembered how he resisted that night. How he wanted to put her against that wall and finish it then and there.

Her pants slid down her legs easily as he backed off the couch. Her panties tasted like her as he pressed his mouth between her legs. He slung her knees over his shoulders and nuzzled her through the cotton until she soaked them entirely. He pulled them aside and continued to coax her. She came as a ripple flowed through her body and he drank up her unconscious excitement.

He tore her panties down her legs and looked down at her with heavy, hungry breaths. He read that women were more likely to conceive if they were aroused. He swiped his shirt over his head and undid his jeans impatiently. He was incredibly hard and he needed her around him.

He bent her legs, one leaned against the back of the couch as the other hung over the side. He dragged his fingers along her cunt and growled. He shoved his fingers into her and spread them. She was so tight it made him throb.

He pulled out and grabbed his dick. He pressed his tip against her clit and rubbed circles around it. She muttered again and turned her head but he wasn’t afraid of her waking. Even if she did, she couldn’t stop him.

He positioned himself against her entrance and pushed his tip just inside. He gasped and bit his tongue. He could’ve cum at that. He snapped his hips against her and her whole body jerked as he reached his limit. She gurgled and he thrust again.

She clenched around him, her walls hungry for him. He rocked his hips into her and watched her squirm, her eyes flitting back and forth behind her eyelids. He bent over her and pulled her arms above her, holding her hands together against the arm of the couch. He fucked her hard as the entire couch jolted beneath their bodies.

“You like that?” He whispered in her ear. “Huh, this is what you wanted. What you were so afraid of.”

He grunted and bucked even faster. Her body reacted to his and as she came, her juices added to the noise of his intrusion. His flesh slapped against hers loudly as the movie’s effect faded into the background. He grabbed her chin and watched her sleeping face as he pounded into her.

“You want it. You want me. You want me to fill you up.” He snarled. “You want my baby inside of you. You want to grow for me.” He sucked on his tongue as his body began to tense. “I’m going to fuck my baby into you, you bitch.”

He buried his head against her neck and bit into her flesh as he came. He shook on top of her as he emptied inside of her and slowed. He whimpered as he stopped his hip and lingered inside of her. He sighed and panted as he fell limp over her.

“Don’t worry, we’re not done.” He promised her deafened ears.

🌆

You were sore and stiff. You were trapped and suffocating. As you rose back to the surface, you felt the weight over you and began to panic. Your thighs were raw but numbed and your core felt hollow. You tried to remember more than the taste of wine but it was all a fog.

You opened your eyes and felt along the shoulder against your chin. The tattooed skin smelled of sweat and you could barely move beneath Andy. As you tried, you felt him inside of you and squeaked. Then the real panic began and you couldn’t breathe at all.

You beat on his shoulders and he grumbled. You felt him growing inside of you and you flailed against him.

“Please, please, get off.”

He shook his head and raised it slowly. He sat up but brought you with him as he kept you around his hardening dick. He held you in his lap and watched you struggle with his tired eyes.

“What’s the matter, honey?” he asked languidly.

“What did you--What are you doing?” You shoved against him and yelped as he tilted into you from below.

“What did I do? Oh, you don’t remember?”

“Don’t remember? Let me go! Please.” You whined.

“Come on, don’t be like this. You asked for it, honey.”

“Wha--”

“Oh, you really are a lightweight,” he whistled, “you said you wanted me. You practically begged me to fuck you.”

“I didn’t-- I--”

“Well, what do you remember?” He purred as he subtly rocked into you. “Huh?”

“I don’t--I can’t remember.”

“You really going to do this to me? Act like you never wanted it? Like I didn’t try to resist you, honey, but you wanted it so bad.”

“No, I…” you stared at the tattoo across his chest.

“Look at me,” he gripped your jaw and your eyes flicked up to his. He thrust into you as far as he could and you yelped, “Tell me you don’t want this.”

He bit his lip as he continued to fuck you. Your thighs clenched around his but you couldn’t escape his grasp.

“You look at me when I fuck you, huh? Yeah, look at me.”

You covered your face and he pulled your hands away. He twisted your arms behind your back and sped up as he bound you against him.

“It’s alright, honey, I already filled you up nice and good,” he cooed, “This. Is. Just. For. Good. Measure.”

He spoke between shallow breaths and your own heartbeat picked up. Your eyes welled as you couldn’t resist the waves and you came with a pathetic mewl. He pulled you close and turned his face up to kiss you. He nibbled your lip and growled as he came inside of you.

You closed your eyes and waited for him to stop. When he did, he wouldn’t let you go. You fell forward and hung your head beside his as a sob lodged in your throat.

“It’s alright. It’s what I want.” He caressed your lower back, “You’ll want it too. You just need time.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #shy!reader #fic #one shot #dark fic #dark!fic #challenge #writing challenge #defending jacob

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biggest-stupidhead · 4 years ago

Note

HI WELCOME BACK! if i could request 'modern dad' levi x reader. i don't mind the format. im so happy your back!

HI! I MISSED U SM!!! Also this idea has been living RENT FREE in my brain so thanks for sending it in. If you're looking for more of this content I have a WIP that features dad! Levi x nanny! reader if you haven't checked it out yet go give it a read :)

Summary: Levi is a dad :)

Word Count: 1.3K

___

Levi knew that parenting wouldn't be easy. He had grown up with a sketchy idea of what it took to parent, having lost his mom so young and living with his detached uncle. So when you told him that you were pregnant with teary eyes and a quivering lip he had turned his back, unsure of his feelings.

At first he felt guilty, putting this burden on you. You however assured him that it was fine, that you would do whatever made him feel most comfortable. You had even had the audacity to suggest raising the child on your own, he of course refused.

Growing up in a single parent home had been less than ideal for himself and he would rather be caught dead than being a deadbeat dad. So after about three days of space, he came to you and told you his feelings. He told you how much he would hate to see you go through pregnancy alone, hate to see the child grow up as he had.

You had hugged him and cried into his chest as he rubbed your back. Now, nearly three years later, he couldn't have been happier with his decision. Even if he was covered in mashed peas and baby barf for the majority of those years. He wouldn't have traded it for the world. Every morning your daughter woke you up at six with tiny hands smushing cheeks and knees digging into ribs. She had his hair and eyes, but all of your charisma. She was stubborn and loud, extroverted and curious of the world. Levi had feared that he wouldn't have known what to do with her. The first time he held her in his arms was indeed the first time he had ever held such a small human.

Growing up in such a small family, he had never grown accustomed to children, as he cradled her small head, your hands guided him to support her bottom as you pressed her into his chest. He barely fought the tears form his eyes as the nurses congratulated him and you on your first child. She wore a small pink hat, swaddled in one of the hospitals newborn blankets.

Now she was racing around the house, bare feet slapping loudly against hardwood floors, sticky hands smearing handprints on his white walls. But he wasn't mad about the noise, or the mess for the first time in his life. He watched you as you parented her effortlessly, encouraging her to use her words and reading her mood flawlessly.

If she was fussy and extra stubborn, you would ignore her wails and snotty nose, instead heading into the kitchen to cut up an apple and dish out some peanut butter. As she ate the snack with tear filled eyes you nudged Levi's side and grinned softly at him.

"Peanut butter fixes everything." You explained as you leaned into his side. He scoffed and watched her scarf down the last of the apple slices, completely complacent.

"Now tell me what's wrong." You encouraged her and she let out a loud sigh.

"I wanna go outside." She said, her cheeks smudged with peanut butter. Levi turned and grabbed a fresh wash cloth, wetting it with warm water and crossing the room to clean off her rosy cheeks.

"Baby, it's raining outside." You reasoned and she grunted as Levi scrubbed her face.

"I wanna catch frogs." She whined and Levi's lip curled in disgust. Ever since Hange had babysat that one rainy weekend she wouldn't shut up about frogs.

"Okay, let's get your rain boots on." You said, heading towards the mud room where the shoes and coats were kept.

"Yes!" She squealed, throwing her arms around Levi's neck and pressing her damp cheek to his. He huffed, pulling her from her seat and carrying her after you. They found you pulling on a pair of old boots and a windbreaker, Levi helped Violet into her own rain gear. She could hardly sit still as he fastened the last button on her rain slicker. "You comin?" You asked as you pulled the garage door open, pressing the button to raise the garage door.

"I'll pass." He said, ruffling Violets dark locks before pulling her hood on.

"We'll bring in the findings." You said as you stepped out of the house, Violet hot on your heels.

"Those slimy things are not coming in here." Levi called after you as you waved a hand dismissively over your shoulder.

Thirty minutes later you came in sopping wet with a bucket full of bull frogs. Levi had tried to wrestle you out of the door but Violet reached into the bucket, pulling out easily the biggest, slimiest frog Levi had ever seen.

"His name is Booger!" She exclaimed as she held the fat frog by it's armpits.

"Get. That thing out of here now." Levi said, taking a step away from his daughter who took two tiny steps forwards. You hardly covered your laughter as Levi grabbed a nearby wooden spoon and pointed at Violet who continued to pursue him into the kitchen.

"Daddy look at his pretty spots!" She insisted as the frog let out a chorus of loud croaking. You set the bucket of smaller frogs back into the garage and pulled your phone out of your pocket to record the scene unfolding.

"He's ugly, get him out of here."

"Apologize!" Violet gasped, using her fingers to cover the frog's ears.

"No, get it out." Levi brandished the spoon, Violet squealed and thrust the frog forward with a toothy grin.

"He wants a kiss!" Violet giggled as the frog croaked loudly again.

"So help me I will drop kick that monstrosity out the front door." Levi growled, shooting a pointed glare at you and your camera.

"How rude!" Violet huffed, turning around with a loud squeak from her boots as she made her way back towards the garage.

"Unless you take the cleanest shower of your life, I will not be sleeping with you tonight." Levi threatened as you took the frog from her.

"You'd love that wouldn't you." You giggled as you pocketed your phone and turned to go release the frogs. He sighed loudly and placed the spoon back on the counter as the door closed behind you.

That night was spent bathing Violet head to toe after she splashed in one too many puddles. This was the part of parenting that Levi had no problem with, he was an expert at scrubbing her pale skin clean and picking up the trail of toys she left in her wake. He wrapped Violet in a warm towel as you finished up dinner in the other room. He helped her into her pajamas and she looped her arms around him with a content sigh.

"You're better at that than mommy." She complimented and Levi's brow furrowed.

"What do you mean?" He asked as he carried her into the dining room.

"Mommy's good too, but you always do it best." She smiled and Levi grunted, lips turning up in a small grin.

"That's 'cause your mom's shit at cleaning." He reasoned and Violet giggled. You came in, placing a plate of mac and cheese down in front of her as Levi planted a kiss to the crown of her head.

"And you suck at cooking." You countered and Levi quirked a brow as he looked down at the boxed mac and cheese that Violet was so eagerly shoveling into her mouth.

"Anyone can make boxed mac and cheese." Levi teased and you punched his arm with a pout.

"Shut up." You giggled and he rolled his eyes, pulling you in for a tight hug, you wrapped your arms around him and eased into his grasp. How had he gotten so lucky? He wondered as he held you close, the rain pattering outside as flashes of lightning lit up the dim room.

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pine-lark · 4 years ago

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Ooh trap him somewhere either very hot or very cold?? :D

Oh.

This is a perfect excuse to write an old daydream from my childhood. Well, there's two-- Arion on a grill and Arion in a box. I chose the box for this one but I may be tempted to write the grill at some point. I haven't written The Box before now because it doesn't exactly... fit with the plot of the actual story, but I mean...

Alternate Rescue AU, coming right up, Anon. (Also sorry I'm like, infinitely late haha. School threw me into a hell pit and I've been recovering. I'm back now ((though I'm not sure for how long, things might change in a week or two... we'll see.)) For now, I'm working on a lot of Arion stuff that will hopefully pop up within a few days! Cheers!)

CW: Tiny whumpee, some blood, cold/hypothermia symptoms (duh), cages/referenced captivity, briefly implied forced nudity from said captivity, brief reference to a past fever and resulting vomiting, referenced/implied physical abuse, water/rain/storms/being submerged in/splashed with water, thoughts of dying (of the "I might die" and "Am I dead?" and wishing to be put out of misery type), crying, (thinking about) needles, short (kind of) graphic description of a bird being run over, brief religion references

His legs still ache from running.

Arion sits in the cardboard box he found on the side of the road, huddled in the corner, shivering in the dark. Although he tries to clamp his jaw shut and stop it, his teeth chatter and his shoulders quiver. It feels like the frozen autumn air has grasped him entirely in icy claws that shake him violently in an inescapable grip. It reminds him of being trapped in Heston’s hand, shaken, body tossed in every direction until his head pounded and his eyes watered.

It’s colder outside than it used to be in the garage. But it’s better out here. No one can hurt him here.

As long as they don’t find him.

He rubs his hands over the goosebumps on his arms, hoping to warm them up and calm down the wild pain buried deep in his skin. As he does so, blood smears along the path he touches. It’s still gently creeping out of the series of cuts etched into his forearms. With it, the image of Heston’s glinting eyes surfaces in Arion’s memory. He buries his head in his shaking knees with a wet sniff. But he’s done it, he reminds himself. He’s escaped. Finally. Chewed through rope, slipped through an unlocked door. Heston's gone. For now.

Please, please don’t come looking for me.

A dog barks somewhere in the distance. He jumps. It sets off an echo of shivers all the way down his spine as his hair stands on end.

A raindrop falls on the cardboard roof. Then another, and another. Thunder claps harshly overhead.

Arion shuts his eyes tight, bites back the frustrated tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. He curls up tighter, hugging himself, doing all he can to keep any scrap of heat he has close to his body. A storm might just do it. Might just kill him. A storm means wind. Freezing wind. And freezing rain. The last thing he needs right now is rain. It can’t rain. He presses his body closer to the cardboard wall, knowing it might not be standing there much longer if it rains.

And it does. It pours.

He sees the rain splash into the road before him. The storm swiftly grows. It’s ferocious and feral and cruel. The temperature around Arion drops. His tiny body shakes uncontrollably, as if it weren’t his own. It reminds him of the terrifying fever he had, long ago, in the confines of his red cage just weeks after being taken from his home. He’d been throwing up and twitching and having the most horrible, vivid dreams (on the occasions that both Heston and the illness let him sleep). The fits of shivering drove him mad, the endless teeth-chattering and flashes of uncomfortable warmth and sticky sweat made him feel even worse. It's like that, he thinks. Except, now, as he shivers, he’s unbearably cold.

An involuntary whine fights its way out of him. When he swallows, his throat feels stiff and achy. Snot runs profusely down his lips and no amount of wiping it away with his bleeding arms is helping it slow. Water has thoroughly and entirely drenched the cardboard, at this point. Has crept through the floor and the walls, and, gradually and persistently, has started to drip through the sagging ceiling. For a moment, Arion remembers he has toes, and that they’ve been numb for awhile now. Actually, now that he’s thinking about it, his feet haven’t felt like anything either, and when he tries to move his fingers, they only twitch. They feel heavy and prickly. He feels prickly all over. Like Heston had shoved a thousand frozen needles into a thousand different places all over his body. It hurts to breathe. There’s no way to get warmer. Nothing to hide under, not even something as decent as clothing. No way to escape, nowhere to run to, even if he had the energy left to try. He lets out a miserable sob.

And then the ceiling falls through, in a blur of collapsing cardboard and splashing waves of water that crash over his head and the rest of his body.

Arion tumbles out of the box, drenched. He coughs up water through jittery movements. For a second, he chokes on a mouthful, and he briefly he thinks he'll never breathe again, before his chest jerks and with another cough, the water falls out of his mouth. He tries to get his arms and legs under him, to stand or even crawl, but his limbs fail him and he crumbles face-first back to the harsh surface below him. The rocks mixed in the road’s tar are sharp. They cut deeply through his nose and cheek and the shoulder that followed his face in the fall. Arion winces against the fresh, sharp pain and the beads of blood that begin to form where he’s been hurt. His breaths come in ragged heaves.

He sniffs. Tears drip from his eyes. He lays helpless in the middle of the little road, in his mind begging to no one that a car doesn’t come along and crush him. Under any other circumstance, he’d love to be put out of his misery. But he’s seen a bird been run over before. Under a truck’s tire. And the memory makes his stomach churn. Flattened face, open stomach, popped like a bubble in a stream.

Briefly, Arion thinks of himself in place of the bird. He thinks of the smear of red underneath his empty, open eyes. He thinks of the way the headlights might look as they would suddenly appear right in front of him. The horrid, mind-numbing honk of a horn. The image he creates in his mind of those headlights, his last moments, is vivid. It’s so vivid that he thinks it might be real, or maybe hypothermia is setting in and beginning to ruin his mind.

It’s just his imagination, he thinks.

And then he smells exhaust from a car.

And the screech of brakes.

And for a second, whilst his body is numb and bright white light is all he can see, he thinks he might be dead.

“I swear, if I keep stopping my car for every mouse that sits in front of it, I’m never going to get anywhere.”

That voice drifts from the car stopped in front of him.

Not dead, then.

Almost, he thinks.

“Can’t help it though. What else am I supposed to do, run them over? Just vet instincts, I guess. Huh, Jasper.” There’s a meow in response. Arion’s breath hitches. The voice says, “Me-ow. I know, I know. I’ll be right back.” A car door shuts. Then there’s heavy wet footsteps. Boots clopping over puddles and asphalt. Panic floods Arion’s chest as a shadow cuts through the blinding white light from the vehicle. The outline of a human lowers, kneels in front of him. His breath stops. His mind goes blank.

“What…”

A moment passes. Something touches him. He flinches hard, but trying to run isn’t an option. His body is completely, entirely, wholly exhausted and far too numb to move more than flailing back a couple inches.

“Oh, geez, that’s-- not a mouse. Okay.” Her head turns in a way that Arion can see her face. A young woman with red hair, watching him with a warm but frantic gaze. “Okay. Okay okay. Oh, God, you’re injured pretty bad, little buddy. Your arms are all… cut up. That’s not good. Um.”

Arion stares blankly ahead. Suddenly, freezing to death isn’t something he feels like putting too much effort into avoiding.

“Okay. Here’s what we’ll do,” the girl continues. “I’m gonna bring you into my car where I can see you better, alright? Then I can help you. It’s gonna be okay. Here. I’m picking you up now, ‘kay?”

The feeling of a warm hand washes over his body. It’s both terrifying and incredibly welcome. The sting of cold seems to seep out of his skin, albeit very slowly. Quickly, though, burning prickles replace whatever comfort the touch brought him.

“Oh, you’re freezing, little guy. You must have been out here for a long time. That can be really dangerous… I’m glad I found you. I’ll get you all warmed up in the car.”

Arion whimpers against the hands that carry him to somewhere warmer, where he hears the faint, deep sound of a large beating heart. For a second, he wonders if this is God. And then the car door opens and creaks, and the girl curses under her breath, and Arion remembers he’s an atheist.

Still, as the stinging in his warming skin subsides, the warmth of her hands starts to feel… nice. If his mind were still intact (instead of shattered into vague, useless fragments as it is now), Arion would have done anything and everything to get away from any human or other predatory beast in sight. But with his head swimming, he leans into her touch, and compliantly accepts the soft feeling of some kind of cloth being wrapped all around him.

Words are spoken to him, but he can’t listen. To him they sound broken up and blurry as the insistence of sleep becomes more desperate in the back of his mind. As he gets warmer, his muscles relax, and his eyes get droopy. His vision darkens, and the girl’s voice hushes.

Just before he drifts off into a far overdue, deep and restful sleep, he thinks to himself, vaguely, that he hopes this human is different. He hopes that when he wakes back up, it won’t be in another cage.

Tag list because this ended up being a full drabble:

(Also, let me know if you'd like to be removed from the tag list. No hurt feelings! I know it's been a long time and if you've lost interest that is A-Okay, friend)

(Also, if you'd like to be added or if your username's changed, let me know!)

@whumping-every-day, @deluxewhump, @sola-whumping, @haro-whumps, @inaridriscoll, @whatwasmyprevioususername, @kiretto-laorentze, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @ahorriblebimess, @whump-me-all-night-long

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spinaroos-47 · 3 years ago

Text

Not so soft rains - Oneshot

The wind started to howl, hot and insistent, and the grim somber grey clouds loomed over the Isles, darkening everything as if the night was approaching in the middle of the evening. Rain was coming.

It was a dangerous, wild phenomenon. Not many beings could stand the scalding heat of the droplets, and even less were stupid enough to stay in it and not seek shelter.

Hunter wasn't part of that first group, and he knew well why to avoid it, but the rain entranced him, making him stay out in the open for as long as he could. Today wasn't any different.

Looking up at the rumbling sky, the first drops of water started coming. It was a light rain, but the stormy clouds up above made it clear it was going to pour soon. The water was hot against his skin, not yet hot enough to burn, but enough to be uncomfortable.

Animals hid under the trees, roots, rocks, anything that could offer some kind of protection, while the rain wasn't on it's full potential. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, starting to get soaked even with the faint rain, skin slightly red from the heat.

The discomfort was starting to become pain, as the rain picked up and the heat increased. With a quick move of the staff, a small protective shield was created on top of him, sheltering Hunter from the rain. Even so, one of the thicker droplets that were starting to fall managed to singe his arm.

The air was charged, the ongoing wind not helping with the pain of the burn. It was dangerous, noisy, bordering on acid, but the rain was equally fascinating and strangely beautiful, hypnotizing even. On many days he caught himself looking out from his window into the rest of the Isles, as the seething water dropped from the sky and touched everything it could.

For everything that the Isles had, it's many problems and harsh conditions, it still had it's good moments. The rain brought destruction and burns, but it brought rest. Everything stopped for it, forced to take a break, slow down, wait for it to pass. Giving life a minute to stop, whether it wanted or not.

It probably would continue through the rest of the day and deep into the night, while Hunter started the walk back home. His clothes were wet and warm, the burn on his arm would definetly need to be checked out better on the castle, but it could wait some minutes.

He had read rumors of the human realm having rain too, although much weirder than the one they had. It was said to be cold, never harming anything other than fires. It made him curious, although there wasn't any way of him to ever know what it would be like. There was no portal to the human realm, any natural ones haven't been spotted ever since the Savage Ages ended, Titan blood was near impossible to safely find.

So he would only know what it would be like on his mind, appreciating the boiling rain he had.

It was hot and stuffy, the vapor filling the ground and slowly rising, boots and pants are a must on these kinds of days. Thick rains like this were common at that time of year, leaving huge puddles of warm water where small critters and kids would enjoy it, splashing around in it.

On the walk back, as he got closer to the castle, the rain got even stronger, the steam even denser, forcing him to put his mask and gloves back on. Lightening started flashing far away, in the direction of the mandibule, low grumbles reaching where he was. Would be a rough night up there, for sure.

The wind swept his cape from one side to the other, stopping when he reached the door of the castle. It was a slow day, nothing really important was going to happen, so it wasn't of much harm this little detour he had. Getting to his room, he took off the wet uniform, resting his head and arms on the closed windowsill, staring out at the land again.

It was calming from up there, seeing the rug of clouds and land meet from horizon to horizon. His eyes grew heavy, the familiar sizzling sound blurring into... white noise... on his ears…

Slowly drifting off with the rain as a soft lullaby, he didn't even notice himself slipping into slumber through the rest of the evening, the pouring rain continuing deep into the night.

#wrote this because it seemed like it would rain here and i got inspired #toh #the owl house #hunter toh #golden guard #writing #alec writes #alec talks #i actually got really sleepy writing the ending fjsndndn

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sunnysidekit · 3 years ago

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Summary: The road to loving Frankie Morales is tough, but you’d do it all again if you had to. And again, and again, and again…

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader (no y/n)

Warnings: Language, major character death but not the permanent kind, (this is literally just a series of au’s in which the reader becomes kind of self-aware), nondescriptive smut (minors, please skip this one!).

Word count: 2.6k

A/N at the end

My masterlist

“Hey,” Frankie shouts, his voice only just carrying over the heavy rain. “Hey, wait up!”

You glance back at him over your shoulder, but you don’t stop running. You can’t stop running. Not after what just happened. Why did you decide to tell him how you felt about him, again? Worst decision of your life.

“Hey!” Frankie shouts again, even louder this time. He’s quickly gaining on you; blame that on his Delta training. You keep running, looking left and right for a spot between the old buildings to shelter from the rain. Something just big enough for one person to hide from their best friend would be great, but you doubt you’ll find a spot like that.

Just when you spot an alcove the size of a small closet you step into a puddle that’s way deeper than it looks, and you smack against the pavement.

You hear Frankie curse from behind you, the splashing of his boots in the puddles getting louder and louder until he stops right next to you and crouches down to help you up. You let out a painful groan when he lifts you off the ground, your arms flailing around unwittingly until you manage to grasp onto his soaked flannel.

“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not, Frankie,” you say with a sniffle. “Look, I know that just because I feel a certain way, you don’t have to… Why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry,” Frankie grins. “But you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear those words! I’d given up all hope you’d ever say them, so,” he shifts to hold you closer to his chest, “I was a bit shocked, is all.”

You blink up at him dumbfounded as lightning flashes behind him, bathing the two of you in a heavenly light for just a moment. Before you realize what you’re doing, you grab his face and crash your lips into his with a passion you never knew you were capable of. He hums against your lips and you smile; this kiss is better than whatever you imagined it could be.

The rain washes over you and makes goosebumps pop up all over your skin, though that could also be from the intensity with which Frankie kisses you. His nose bumps against yours as he deepens it and something starts to blossom up in your belly, a tingling spreading from your sides all the way to your fingertips. After what feels like an eternity, he lets you go, the both of you breathing hard and haggard.

“Holy shit,” Frankie chuckles. “We’re both incredibly stupid, aren’t we?”

“Speak for yourself. I’d do it all again if this is what I get for it.”

Frankie laughs breathlessly and you can’t help but join him. All the anxiety in your body has transformed into exhilaration; you throw your head back and let the raindrops splatter onto your face freely when suddenly another flash of lightning strikes, this time so close you can almost feel it burn your skin. Hey, wait… why doesn’t it stop?

The burning sensation digs deeper into your skin and you snap your head back to look at Frankie, but he’s still laughing. You try to reach out and grab his shoulder, but something’s wrong with your hand. It’s- it’s shredding, your fingers flaking off and burning up in the air as you yell out, horrified at the sight.

Frankie doesn’t notice it when you feel yourself losing weight and floating upward, memories flurrying around you in the ash you’re slowly becoming. He doesn’t notice it when you get sucked higher and higher into the air, screaming his name and pleading him to help you. He doesn’t even notice it when you gasp in one last breath before the stinging headache you’ve developed in the last few seconds overwhelms you completely and you feel your consciousness slipping away.

You jerk awake. Holy stars, that wasn’t a normal nightmare. Where in Newton’s name did that even come from? Rain? It never rains here on the SS Endeavour, you’re in space. All the rain you’ve ever seen has all been via holovids. It did feel oddly realistic, though. Kind of like déjà vu. You stretch out your arms above your head and yawn; maybe you did drink a bit too much last night.

But that kiss… why would you ever kiss officer Morales? Sure, you’re friends. You’re his copilot, for Newton’s sake. But he’s far too mission oriented to even consider romantic relationships. At least, that’s what he says. You’d agree with him, if only he wasn’t obviously lying.

“Stars, would you hurry up already?”

You jump out of your bunk at the sound of Ava’s voice and start changing into your overalls, but it’s no use-- she’s already seen you.

“I don’t want to have to skip breakfast again because you can’t be bothered to get up when the alarm goes off.”

“Oh, stop worrying about your breakfast. I’m sure you still have some extra bread rolls in your secret hiding spot.”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that claim,” Ava says, but she’s got a twinkle in her eye. She’s such a bad lair. You step into your shoes, the soft hiss of the self-tying mechanism a nice reassurance of the fact that you’re not dreaming anymore.

“When commander Penn finds out you’ve been using his second wall safe to hide food, you’re getting an instant demotion,” you say. “You do know that, right?”

“It’s so sweet you still think that’s where I hide my stuff. Anyway, I really hope you’ve already picked up your new badge.”

You look up at her from where you’re sitting on the bottom bunk. “…Oh, shit.”

“Really? What kind of gas giant-”

“Don’t start calling me names you’ll regret, Ava,” you grumble as you scramble up and run out of the sleeping pod. This day really is off to an amazing start.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Fish greets you when you climb into the cockpit of your jet with a scowl. “We’ve got zone E today.”

You fasten your seatbelt and heave a sigh. “Yay for us.”

“I thought you liked the asteroid belt.”

“I do, I just…” You chew on your lip as you busy yourself with the control panel. “I had a weird dream, is all. Let’s get going, Fish.”

Because nothing kills a conversation quicker than telling someone about the strange dream you had last night. Now that you think about it, there was something else wrong with it: the stars. They were all in different places, made different constellations…

Usually something like that doesn’t dance around in your head for very long after you wake up, but this somehow keeps popping up whenever you try to navigate manually. It’s like your memories have been copied, but the copy has a whole lot of mistakes. Like there’s been a very, very bad data overhaul.

And then there’s Fish. Despite his casual, relaxed attitude he’s tapping his fingertips against the controls at a rapid pace. It’s a small detail, one you’ve noticed a hundred times before, but it’s taking on a different meaning in your head. You remember him doing it in the dream, too, right after you told him you loved him. Could that maybe-

“Hey!” Fish snaps his fingers in front of you, and everything around you comes back into focus. You’re floating in zone E, engine off, and there’s a bright red jet peeking out from behind a particularly large asteroid.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. “What’re they doing here? This isn’t Galactican territory.”

“Ambush, maybe?”

“I doubt it. If they were planning an ambush, they wouldn’t pick a fucking asteroid belt. Lord knows those new engines of theirs are about as stable as a peach in a blender.”

“Whatever they’re doing here, I don’t trust it,” Fish says with a frown. You sigh.

“Maybe they haven’t seen us yet. D’you think we can we get out of here in time?”

He shakes his head. “Can’t risk leading them right back to the Endeavour.”

“You… you haven’t radioed this in yet, right?”

“No.”

You lean forward to get a better look of your surroundings - seems you’ve been daydreaming for quite some time - only to see a whole lot of asteroids. “Well, it is just one of them, and it doesn’t look like the engine’s on.”

“It’s not broken,” Fish mutters. “At least, I don’t think.”

“Then what do you suggest we do? If we radio this in and someone’s in there, they can easily trace any signals the Endeavour sends out. If we open fire, we’ll have started a war-- and we really don’t need another one of those.”

“It’s taking too long.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not you,” he says absentmindedly, pointing at the blue spacecraft. “That. It’s moving too slow. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the brakes are on.”

You grab the lens from the wall beside you and take another look. Fish’s right: if the engine’s off, it should be floating around freely, not hanging still. As you stare at it, though, it does seem to move a little bit. No, it glitches. Your breath hitches in your throat. “Holy fuck.”

“Hm?” Fish hums, turning to you. You push the lens in front of his face, and he looks through it as well. No five seconds later, he’s grabbed the controls and started the engine. “We need to get out of here, right now.”

You grab the radio, but Fish snatches it from your hands and throws it across the cockpit. “We’re not gonna radio this in.”

“Are you insane?”

“What do you think base is going to do when they hear tell of a glitching Galactica spacecraft in the last productive tantalum mining fields?”

“Are you seriously suggesting not letting millions of people prepare for-” You’re cut off by the sudden appearance of a dozen more spacecraft, all of their noses pointed in your direction as you and Fish zoom past way faster than you should. “No, no, no!”

“Sunshine, listen to me,” Fish says as he puts his hand over yours. It grounds you, and you’re grateful for it, even if you don’t understand what he’s doing. “If they know we’ve been patrolling the fields, I’m guessing their main plan is to follow us back to the Endeavour.”

“…Which means they don’t know where it’s anchored,” you add, your anxious expression slowly turning into a smirk.

“Now you’re getting it,” he chuckles. “Let’s go take some advantage of that, hm?”

You nod and grab the controls in front of you to start plotting a route that’s just erratic enough not to draw suspicion to the fact that you’re leading the following spacecraft away from the Endeavour. Fish navigates the jet precisely along your route, narrowly avoiding the asteroids while turning a few degrees to the left every few seconds until you’re coasting out of the mining fields and into empty space. It works; behind you, the stream of spacecraft grows steadily, and with it, so does the size of the individual ships.

“They’re still following us,” Fish says after a while. He sounds a lot less sure of his case than he did ten minutes ago. “Hey, we have enough power left for a jump?”

“Depends on where you want to go,” you say, checking the fuel systems. “I reckon we can jump a total of about a thousand light years.”

“The center of the galaxy’s a little less than eight hundred light years away, correct?”

“Yes, but what…” you trail off as realization hits you like a nuclear bomb. “No, don’t even think about it.”

“They’re not backing off, Sunshine.” Fish turns to look you in the eyes, a small, watery smile on his lips. “I don’t think we have a-”

“Of course we have a choice,” you say with as much severity as you can muster, which, to be frank, isn’t a lot right now. “There’s always a choice.”

“Would you rather wipe out their fleet or our own?”

“I don’t-”

“Do it, Sunshine,” he says sternly. “Make the jump.”

You hesitate, your hand hovering over the lever. “Is… is there really no one on the Endeavour you’d turn back for?”

Fish’s smile grows a bit; you can see it’s genuine. “…I’m here with you, aren’t I? That’s enough for me.”

It catches you off guard, the way he says it. Deep down, you already knew what his answer would be. You dreamt about it, after all. Without another word, you push the lever forward, and the jet glides across space-time until it slows down again, finally coming to a halt near the event horizon of the massive black hole at the center of the galaxy.

“Did it work? Are they coming?” Fish almost jumps out of his chair to look outside, while you decide to look at the little radar on the control board. One by one the tiny, blinking dots come streaming in; your evidence of a job well done.

“Fish?” you ask, your voice wavering. There’s something more important than saving the universe on your mind right now. “Am I really enough for you?”

“Oh, stars,” he says, his own happy mood turning into something else as well. He sinks to his knees in front of your chair and looks up at you. “You are more than enough. You’re all I ever think about, you’re the only one that-”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’ve already grabbed his face and crashed your lips into his. You’re about to be swallowed up by a black hole, explanations can wait. The kiss grows more and more fervent as Fish’s hands travel up your thighs to hold your waist, a tingling feeling taking up refuge in your belly. After Newton knows how long, the two of you reluctantly break away from each other to breathe.

Stars, Fish, you whisper, but he shakes his head. Call me Frankie, he says. Please, call me Frankie. You tilt your head and press your lips against his scruff. Frankie, you whisper, please don’t stop. And he doesn’t. He closes his eyes and kisses you, over and over and over until your lips are swollen and all thoughts have left your head.

He zips open your overalls slowly, kissing every inch of newly uncovered skin he can find. His kisses burn lower and lower across your skin, past your clavicles, your chest, your belly, and before you, thousands of stars slowly implode. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt like this before; it’s all so incredibly bittersweet. You get to spend the longest night of your life with the man you love, but it’ll also be the last night you’ll ever experience.

One by one little pinpricks of light fade out in the darkness outside, while others explode in brightly colored clouds-- the same thing happens to your nerves whenever Frankie moves even the slightest bit. It’s a good thing sound doesn’t carry in space, or else you wouldn’t be able to hear the beautiful noises he makes when he closes his eyes in pleasure.

The two of you tumble around in what little space you have, the light of a billion dying stars illuminating every single part of your joint bodies as you splay your hands across his chest. The darkness is taking over more quickly now, enveloping your jet into nothingness, drawing you into the vast emptiness of its core.

We must have done something right, Frankie whispers as you lay, sweaty and tired, awaiting your bittersweet ending, to deserve such an incredible encore.

You close your eyes and curl up into his chest as you whisper back, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

You open your eyes again and smile when you look at Mr. Morales. He’s so gentle like this, with his fingers flying across the piano, not at all the stoic soldier he usually is. It’s nice, even if the others think it’s boring.

He finishes the piece with a shuddering creshendo, and you bite back a smile when he looks at you with those gorgeos eyes of his.

“Why’d you stop singing, my lady?”

“I apologize, sir,” you say as you flip over the music sheet on the little ledge of the piano. “But I simply can’t help it; you play so wonderfully, and I never truly learnt to sing very well. It seems a shame to pollute such beautiful tones with my own.”

“Nonsense,” Mr. Morales says with a kind smile. “Your voice only ever makes me want to play better.”

Your cheeks heat up at that, but the moment is quickly disrupted.

“Encore, encore!” a voice behind you yells; it’s Mr. Garcia, who’s been sitting in his usual post on the third floor. “We’re gonna need more than just the one piece if we’re to have any luck in catching more than a score of those bastards tonight.”

“Why don’t you come down and try singing for a bit, it might help,” Mr. Morales chuckles beside you. When he notices you staring at him, he leans in a little closer and adds, “Are you all right, miss? You seem distracted.”

“I’m perfectly good, sir.” You swallow hard and let out a weary breath. “Your music always seems to carry me away further than I expect.”

And for a moment there, you think to yourself, I thought I saw the stars up close.

A/N: I really threw all my knowledge of space and science out the window for this one and replaced it with nonsense and movie-science. Also, I’ve watched Interstellar, Free Guy, and Groundhog Day way too much for my own good.

The title of this chapter comes from an instrumental by the Grandbrothers which I listened to while writing, so if you want the full experience you can look that up.

If I'm missing any content warnings, do let me know! I'd hate to hurt someone with my writing, but I don't really know how to work those out yet.

PS: If you've got a favorite AU and/or dynamic, I'd love to hear about it! This series is going to explore a bunch of different ones, but I think my own imagination will only get me so far :)

As always, feedback is appreciated and my inbox is open! Have a great day!

#frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #tw: major character death #cw: death #my writing

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