Finn Balor Imagines

Beautiful Nightmare

"Y/N..." He whispered. He was closer this time.
"Y/n...." He hummed, playing with you. His prey, his desire. He crawled closer to you, slow and stalking. His eyes... Lust? Rage? Love, maybe?
His hand reached out and touched your stomach, scorching hot. You hissed and flinched, unable to scamper away...

"Y/N!" Fergal shook your arm, waking your struggling form. You'd been crying, and eventually, you were screaming and whimpering. The river of emotion had sprung a leak again. You crawled over into Fergal's lap, burying your head in his shoulder as he held your shaking, sobbing form.

Ten nights. This had went on for ten nights. The same exact dream of what you thought to be Finn's in-ring persona, Bálor. Turns out you were wrong. This was Finn's real, very alive other half. After a long time of being dormant, Bálor took a liking to you, and you couldn't tell if it was a compliment or a cold, hard threat. Regardless, he was scary.

"C'mon, princess, let's get you a bath... Yer all warm, burnin' up..." He muttered, planting a kiss on your forehead out of affection and concern as he checked your temperature. You nodded in agreement, clinging to Fergal as he stood, grabbing his phone and carrying you to the bathroom in the master bedroom.

"Go ahead, strip down 'nd climb in when the bath is ready. I'll come back in when yer-"
"Get in with me..." You cut him off, looking down at your feet. It was more of a request than a demand, you didn't even mean for it to pass your lips. He bit his own lip softly, surveyed his choices, and slowly nodded.
"Let me call Seth first... He might know what to do, I don't know where else ta' turn." He stated, placing a firm hand on your arm. This made you look up to meet eyes, full of concern and love. Love...
He leaned down and kissed you, a mix of soft and firm. It was as if he was treating you like a flower, completely fragile, in need of tender care; but, at the same time, he was holding on to you as if your parachute wasn't working. He needed you to be safe, grounded, and remaining in his arms. As you kissed back, you felt the same spark you always felt. Your lips fit perfectly together, sculpted for one another. Reassured, the two of you pulled away and went about your business for the moment.

"I'll be right ba-" He stopped. You had already gotten your shirt off, and something was bugging him. He was staring.
"Don't be a perv, babe." You giggled, believing he was trying to lighten the mood. Boy, were you wrong.
"Y/n, you... your..." He tried, unable to spit it out. He pulled your hand carefully, allowing you to look into the body mirror. What you found would haunt you to no end.

"Fergal..." You breathed, checking out the welt and burn of a handprint on your stomach. You couldn't figure out why it hadn't bothered you before, but now it stung and burned. You couldn't help but feel downright helpless, but you refused to cry. You merely hung your head, saddened as you stripped off the rest of your clothes. Fergal watched. He wasn't being creepy or a pervert; no, he was hungry, but it wasn't for sex, or your body. It was for your happiness to come back. The life in your eyes, the fuel to his fire. You climbed into the chilly water, wincing as you listened to Fergal outside the bathroom.

"No, Seth, she's got- yeah, I realize. It's taken a liking- well, he has. I don't think he means to be harmful- yes... Down the street?.. Yeah. I'll see ya' later.. Thanks Seth. Bye"

Down the street? What was he talking about? You sat back and wondered what he meant.
About a minute later, Fergal came back into the bathroom, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. You had to admit, it was a sight to behold on any given day. He put his own outfit on one side of the sink, while yours stayed on the bed outside.

"What, uhm... Did you mean? Right down the street?" You asked, looking up to meet his eyes. He sighed softly, dropping the towel as he climbed in behind you, getting comfortable before he spoke again.