#and gets mad that i shout again but this time out of mild pain. like it doesn't HURT hurt but it doesn't feel good | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charleslee-valentine · 4 months

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For the Texas Chainsaw Massacre Fanworks Event Day 3: Alternate Universe

One where both twins survive

Ship(s): None

Word Count: ~1,500

Warnings: Description of injuries, blood, mild panic attack, picking/harmful stimming.

@texas-chainsaw-fanworks

_____

The hospital keeps little mittens on his hands so he doesn’t pick his scabs.

The sutures on his face are his favorite.

Nubbins has been in here for a long time. They can’t blame him when his body gets overwhelmed by the pain and the itch. Digging his nails into the unwelcome feelings makes them go away. Makes his thoughts calm down a little anyways.

When he’s alone for too long, he gets a little unsteady.

He’d never been to the hospital before, and now he’s been trapped here for months. It’ll be just a little longer now, until they can take the stuff holding his jaw together back out. That’s what Drayton told him anyways, translating what the mean old doctors were saying into words he could understand.

It got scary, when he didn’t have one of his brothers here. All on his own, freezing cold, not allowed to hum or play or pick, forced to act by their standards. He hates them all. Almost as much as he hates the neighbor girl for pushing him in the road.

Almost as much as he hates his twin brother for leaving him.

He knew Nubbins couldn’t come with him. He knew that! And then he went anyways! It made him so angry he could just-

A faint gasping cry echoes in the hallway. It sounds like one of the nurses maybe, sounds like going into shock.

If he could get up, he would, but he’s forced into this dumb bed still, so he stays put, stretching his neck so far it hurts from trying to see what’s going on.

Whatever’s happening, there’s blood out there.

Nubbins always thought being afraid of blood was stupid. Then again, he also thought he was safe on the road.

Here they were.

He’s never being sure of anything again.

Unless that counts as being sure of being unsure. Even through the cloth wrapped around his hands, he scratches at his skin. He’s just- he’s angry! There’s so much buzzing underneath his skin and he just wants out!

Nubbins balls up his hands and hits. Anywhere he can reach. His arms, his chest, his legs, and dammit he can’t even feel it in his legs. The beepy-sound the screen beside him makes to measure his heart gets loud and fast.

But nobody comes to check on him.

A sick, sweaty kind of feeling rises up in his chest. It’s panic. He is afraid.

That blood must mean something.

Maybe he’s hurt again.

But no. The nurses do come, eventually, but they’re different from his usual ones. They aren’t there for him.

It’s another patient. Another Sawyer patient.

“Wh-What is he doin’ here?”

Like he’s stupid, like he’s a child, they explain it slow. They say his brother got hurt in the war and had to come to the hospital to get put back together. Just because they’re family they’re getting shoved in the same room. The Veterans hospital was too expensive to keep him, so here he is. Invading Nubbins’ space.

Bobby smiles and waves like nothing is wrong.

“Nubbins!!”

Nubbins folds his arms, at least as best he can, given he’s just regaining motion in them, and shouts, “No!! D-Don’t you t-talk to me! I hate you!”

It seems to cut Bobby deep. He practically whines, like he used to when they were little and pitching fits to get what they wanted, “Nuh uh! You-You love me f-forever! I’m your brother!”

The angry in Nubbins’ heart mixes up with those memories of his brother and gets sorta tangled. In a way that makes him queasy.

He covers his ears with his hands, “Shut up! Sh-Shut up!!”

“Why sh-should I?” Bobby argues right away, loud as he can to defy the order.

So Nubbins explains why, grumpy that Bobby couldn’t just get it on his own and leave him be, “‘Cause I-I’m mad at you... B-But if you stays q-quiet, I might ch-change my mind.”

Guilt made him add that last part. Drayton always taught them you could love someone, but didn’t have to like them. He still loves his twin. It’s just confusing when he doesn’t like him. Like he doesn’t know whether to be upset or not. Nubbins wants to like him.

Bobby tries to comply and be silent. Really, he does, and it’s clear in the loud beeping of their neighboring machines being the only sound. He gives in eventually as it drones on, “But Nubbins-“

“Shhhhh!”

“Okay.”

Nubbins’ thoughts are like mushy applesauce. Like rot after it’s already sunk in deep through the body of a raccoon or a opossum on the side of the road. None of it makes sense and it’s all just too much. Nubbins angrily swishes his hands in the air to kill some of those bad feelings bubbled up in his body.

The silence lasts this time. Gives Nubbins a moment to just be a little spastic until he’s ready to speak.

“I-I’m mad a-at you.” He finally announces, voice sounding a little wavy and strained.

“W-What’d I do?” Bobby asks, and it’s genuine.

So Nubbins answers genuine back, simple facts without all those mean emotions getting in the way, “You left.”

“Oh. Y-Yeah.” Bobby nods, like he’s going to accept it, but then a thought occurs to him. He raises shoulders up a little so it’s known he’s going to speak before he even starts, “B-But I..I didn’t want to.”

They’d tried to tell him that. Bobby said so in his letters home, and Drayton put it into words, bringing what the paper said (and what Nubbins couldn’t read) to life.

Nubbins hadn’t believed either of them.

He thought that’s just what was said to make him feel better.

Now he feels the need to defend his pain, “I was a-alone. Forever.”

Bobby nods again, like he gets it, but he taps the big stitches and staples and leaky bandages on the side of his head, “I got hurt. Y-You can see it. L-Look at my head. A..A machete d-did that.”

“We-Well I c’ain’t e-even walk!” Nubbins shouts it in frustration.

That truck stole a lot of things from him that day.

None of them hurt as bad as when the government stole Bobby away to go fight.

Maybe. Maybe his anger was never really at his brother anyway. That's the most confusing part. Still, he’s willing to listen now and answer Bobby’s questions cooperatively.

For starts, Bobby seems confused by the confession Nubbins made, “Didja for-forget how?”

“I got huh-hurt too.” Nubbins explains, showing the scars down the backs of his arms from all the pins they put in to fix his bones, and turning his head to show the big sutures on his face from his jaw problem.

Bobby doesn’t even hesitate to reassure him, at the sight of his brother hurt, just like the way it used to be, “The doctors’ll.. th-they’ll getcha all better! They’s helped me l-lots. ‘Til.. ‘Til I tore my scab o-off. Nurse lady run o-outta there screamin’!”

So that explains that. The bloody woman must’ve tried to help him and got scared off. Nubbins wonders how bad it is under the bandages on Bobby’s head, but he doesn’t ask. That would be not nice.

Nubbins doesn’t want to be not nice anymore. Maybe he forgives too easily or something, but he’s not mad anymore. It still hurts that Bobby left, but they both suffered together, even far far apart.

Always connected.

He giggles at Bobby’s story and shows the thick mittens still on his hands, another thing they have in common, “Y-You pick ‘em too?”

Bobby nods in agreement, but he does it too fast and looks like he gets sick and dizzy. After a moment, he lays his head down on his pillows, a little pale.

It makes Nubbins feel yucky. Like he might lose him.

He whispers, “Are w-we gonna be.. o-okay?”

Bobby looks all around the room before he answers, just as quiet, “I-I think so. We’re to-together again so’s.. that-that’s gotta be good. R-Right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I-I think you’re right. We’ll get out, a-and we’ll go home. We-We can’t play by the road but..but we can.. we can have fun again!” Nubbins gets all excited when thinking about having fun again makes his heart and his stomach feel better.

Until a thought occurs to him, and his smile drops away a little, “D-Do you still want to?”

Bobby doesn’t hesitate to encourage him, “‘Course! Me an’ you, Nubs, a-and Bubba too!”

And Nubbins believes it. Maybe it’s dumb but he doesn’t wanna hate his brother forever. They promised they’d be together all their lives, and that was broken. But maybe now it won’t be.

They’re both busted up. The family’s gonna have to give them some space, and they’ll spend it all telling each other about the last year. Maybe it’ll be like he never even left.

It makes Nubbins happy. His hands flutter about and show it. It hurts a little in his shoulders and chest, but he doesn’t care. He shakes and wiggles and claps all the good energy out into the world.

Bobby joins him. He makes noise when he does it, always has. A little hummy sound that gets higher based on how much his arms is wiggling.

It’s comfortable. Familiar. Happy.

#tcmfanevent #nubbins sawyer #chop top sawyer #bobby sawyer #tcm 1974 #tcm 2 #tcm fanfic #my moodboards #my writing

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munsonownsmyass · 2 years

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Hate to love you

Matt Murdock x reader

Summary: You hate Matt and he hates you... One day you collide and everything changes.

Warnings: one (1) slap, language, mild choking, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie.

Author's note: Unedited. We die like men.

You don’t know what came over you, but the smack of your hand against Matt’s cheek shocks your both. Your palm burns and Matt’s mouth is open in surprise, the soft skin of his cheek already reddening. The room is silent except for your rapid breathing.

Matt turns to you, his eyes almost meeting yours as he grits his teeth. The next thing you know, his mouth is on yours, pressed together in a heated kiss. Matt bites down on your lip, enough for it to hurt, enough for that metallic taste of blood to fill your mouth.

Grunting, you bit back as hard as you can. You can almost swear you hear Matt whimper. It’s frantic after that. Matt pulling at your dress, pushing it up over your hips. Your hands fumbling with his belt, barely pushing them down, but just enough to free his already hard cock.

He presses you down, back hurting as it meets the hard surface of his desk. Pulling your panties to the side, Matt wasted no time lining himself up to your entrance, pushing in.

“Fuck sweetheart. If you hate me so much, why are you so fucking wet?” he smirks, pulling out slowly before bottoming out in you.

“Fuck you, Murdock. Fu-”

Words lost, you throw your head back against the desk as Matt fucks you harder, setting a brutal pace. He leans down, grabbing you by the neck and bends you in half, so he can claim your lips in a rough kiss, slamming his cock all the way to the hilt.

“You don’t really hate me. You hate that you want me… Isn’t that true, sweetheart?”

His lips crushes against yours, claiming them once more. His words make you clench around him. You don’t want them to be true. You don’t want him, you hate him. So you bite him again. his only response is to snap his hips forward in a brutal, unrelenting pace. It’s fast and dirty, Matt’s hips fucking into you hard, his hands gripping your hips so hard it’ll leave bruises.

You regret it the moment the words leave your lips, but you don’t have time to apologize before Matt has got you by the throat, stalking towards the wall, pushing you hard against it. “You’re such a pain in my ass!”

“And you’re a smug bastard!” you spit back, nearly wheezing with the pressure on your throat. You struggle in his hold, gripping his wrist, trying to remove his hands. “Let me go!”

“If you calm down, I will.”

“Fuck you, Murdock.” You shout, but Matt only grunts in response. Suddenly, he rips you away from the wall by your neck, throwing you over his desk. Coughing, all air knocked out of you, you try to get up but to no avail. Matt’s strong hand is holding you down, forcing you to bend over his desk.

“Calm down, sweetheart, before this gets ugly.”

It ends as quickly as it started. You come first, moaning Matt’s name over and over, your whole body shivering. Matt is not far behind, whimpering as he buries himself deep in you, filling you with him cum.

He pulls out, his breathing heavy as he steps away from the desk. You just lay there, staring at the ceiling as you try to catch your breath, already feeling Matt’s cum drip out of you.

Matt zips himself up, running his hand through his hair as his breathing slowly comes back to normal. “I’ll go for some coffee. You better not be here when I get back.”

And with that he leaves you, naked and angry on his desk, before you can even shout back at him. “Fuck you, Murdock.” You mutter under your breath. Few people could make you mad, but Matt Murdock? He made you angry and you were looking forward to the day where you could vibe that smirk of his face.

Thank you so much for reading. Feedback and reblogs are much appreciated ❤️

TFC girls: @mindidjarin @e-dubbc11 @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @itwasthereaminuteago @saintmurd0ck @mattmurdocksscars @phoebe-danvers @pedrito-friskito @a-bang-for-your-bucky

Tagging: @lucy-sky @chasingdreamer @missbeewrites @our-chaos

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfiction #kinktober 2022 #matt murdock

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altmerhalten-posting · 6 months

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Unused bits - He’s back

With shaky hands, Amoré began reciting the ritual chant. Red sat on his knees perfectly still. His eyes were closed and he almost looked at peace aside from how tightly he balled his fists. It was time to draw the sigil. Amoré grabbed his small dagger from his pocket and pricked two of his fingers. Upon Red’s forehead, Amoré began to draw a mess of curling lines that formed the face of a bat. “N-now. It’s time for your first drop of blood in over fifty years,” Amoré said and put his hand near Red’s mouth. The younger shook his head. “I can’t go through with it anymore!” He cried. Hid brother exhaled with relief. “Thank the gods! You have a family Junior, I can’t take that from you!”

“Y-you’re not mad? You’re okay that we cam this far and I backed out?” Red asked. Amoré nodded. “I wouldn’t force you to do anything like this even if I were mad, Junior! Let’s wipe this off before we attract beasts.” Red sighed and licked a drop of blood that trickled down his face and onto his lips. He felt a sudden warmth, and Amoré noticed his brother’s eyes had gone from violet to a deep shade of red.

Amoré stared at Red and Red stared back, both equally confused at what the other was gawking at. “W-why are you staring at me like that?” Red asked as Amoré helped him back to his feet. Amoré kept wordlessly staring, slowly pointing to the drop of blood that fell into Red’s mouth. “W-we didn’t. We didn’t stop the ritual, Junior.” Red licked the streak of blood from his lips again, then froze. His eyes grew wide as he looked down at his hands to see his nails growing long then back at Amoré. “Oh,” was the last thing he whispered before the pain set in. The color came back to his hair, as it became its bright red again. He started laughing. “It’s working!” He chirped. His mistwalker tattoos returned to his arms and the white marks of the Moon returned to his face. “Amoré I’m—“he held his chest and fell against a tree. His arms and legs contorted inward and back out with a sickening crack.. His skin stretched as his muscle mass began to return. He buckled over into the ground and screamed out in agony, scratching at his mouth as his fangs broke through his gums, blood dripping down his face.

Amore watched in …mild discomfort, as the man violently transformed. “Are you done yet?” He called out. Red’s voice deepened and became growls in his throat as his vocal chords began to warp. “I-Is this an inconvenience for you?” he strained out. Amore rolls his eyes. “I didn’t want to go through this! So yes, I’m inconvenienced. How can we speed this up?”

“Get me blood. I need blood before I turn into the thing!” he shouted. Amore raised an eyebrow. “What, you’re going to get worse?! Are you telling me this isn’t the thing?” Red growled at him, and Amore backed up. “I’ll grab you a squirrel or something,” Amore said hurriedly. “J-just don’t get any more… ugly.” He turned away and fell to the ground as Red tackled him. “Why can’t I drink from you, you’re right here!”

“If you fucking bite me I’ll kill you!” Amore snapped and kicked the man off. Red hit the ground and rolled back onto his hands and feet. He stood up and smiled. “You’ll give me a bite or I’ll tell Mom what you did to me. How you turned her baby boy back into a monster. Imagine Papa’s disgust!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Amoré screamed. Red tackled him again. “Give me a sip, goddamn you!” He wrestled Amore to the ground and pulled his arm to his mouth. Amoré pulled it back and headbutted him in the chin. “It’s my blood, Junior!”

“Why the hell are you so strong?” Red growled. Amoré ripped into his arm and shoved it in Red’s mouth. The man bit down and lapped at the blood until Amore felt dizzy. He knocked the other off and held his wound.

Red wiped his mouth, the craze leaving his eyes. “I… I’m better now,” he huffed. He slapped Amore’s back. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

=======

Red stared at the door to his home and looked back at Amoré expectantly. Amoré looked up from his wound and stuck out his tongue. “Can I heal up from the this bite first?” He whined. Red shook his head. “It’s not that… H-how do I do it?” He asked. Amoré tilted his head at him, squinting. “Do what? Use a door?”

“Go inside!” He snapped. “Don’t know if you were paying attention but when I left an hour ago, I was BARELY 5 FT TALL!” Amoré rolled his eyes. “By the gods,You’re so dramatic! Just duck when you go in. Flounder or whatever his name is probably isn’t even awake.”

“Florence,” Red spat back. He took a deep breath and opened the door, pulling it right off the hinge. He silently screamed and looked at his brother who was desperately trying to keep from laughing. Red slammed the door into Amoré who fell over onto the dirt path, still struggling to contain his cackle. Red looked around, perhaps Florence was sleep. He crept into the house, careful to avoid anything that would make sound. He walked past the dining table and knocked over the salt. He froze, hearing Florence stir in his sleep. When the man didn’t appear from the doorway, he sighed and continued to the corner of the kitchen. He lifted the floorboard and found his it. It was a large black trunk with the Inferi insignia carved into it and painted red. He saw his old locked chest and felt something within him catch fire.

He reached down and grabbed it, a smile growing wider and wider on his face. He pricked his finger on his canine and let blood drip inti the sig, causing the chains to fall off. Slowly, he took the chest and rested it on the dining table. He flipped the latch and opened it up to see his scarf and assassin’s uniform still neatly tucked folded. He ran his fingers over the scarf, his fingers stinging from its magic.

“Red…?” He heard a voice call from behind him. He whipped his head around to see Florence clutching his ax in one hand and holding a lantern in the other. Red felt every ounce of excitement he once had be ripped from his body as he saw the fear in his husband’s bright blue eyes. They were glowing, even if he did clean up his appearance, nothing could get past his Hunter’s Instincts. “R… Red, what happened to you?” He whispered and hung the lantern on the coat rack.

He slowly approached the elf, who backed away with every step he took until Red found himself backed into a wall. Florence wouldn’t say the emotion he felt upon seeing the man was fear, but he would prefer to say that then what he was truly feeling. The man that bore his husband’s face was about two feet taller with a mop of long, shaggy red hair. His fearful eyes were bright red, like the day they met. Florence tried to hide his delight as he gently touched the man’s face, stretching his mouth to see his fangs. He moved his hand down to Red’s chest, unable to hide his smile, then grabbed his arms. Red’s face became bright purple, and he gently pushed him away. “Flo, it’s awfully late don’t you think? Go back to bed,” he said sternly. The man broke from his stupor. “I… hold on, wait a minute!” He wiped the drool from his mouth and put the ax to Red’s neck. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“My love, you’ll wake the baby!” Red hissed. Florence only pressed the ax harder. “What. Are. You. Doing?” He demanded. Red looked directly into Flroence’s eyes and began humming softly. Florence tried to break eye contact, but it couldn’t even move his body. The louder Red hummed, the darker black winding tattoos appeared on his arms and hands. He swayed slowly back and forth, and Florence did the same, dropping the ax to the floor. In the same tune of the ghostly tune he hummed “Florence, are your eyes not heavy in your head? Do you wish for peace?” The man’s head nodded unnaturally, as if another force was in control of his neck. Red kissed his forehead. “Then off you go my love, no equestions now. Off to bed. Time to sleep.” Like a marionette upon tangled strings he made a crooked gait back to their bedroom. Red exhaled and looked outside to see Amoré still red in the face from laughter. “You got your little trinkets?” He asked. Red grabbed the chest off the and headed back towards the door. “That. Was something,” he said as he walked from the living room and head first into the doorframe. Amoré caught the chest before it could fall onto his brother’s foot and cause any more damage. Red rubbed his nose and punched a hole into the doorframe. “Calm down, big boy. Save that anger for the targets.”

#altmerhaltenposting #amore tag #redposting #blood mention #songbirbposting #florenceposting

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ocean-blue-whump · 1 year

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All the Light is Gone

Sunny + Star Masterlist

Thank you so much to @painful-pooch for helping me realize how I wanted to take this story.

Sunny and Star Crew: @ashintheairlikesnow @whumpinggrounds @whumptakesthecake @justplainwhump @whumpfessional @winedark-whump - let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: pet whump, BBU, lady whump, male whump, DEATH, drunk and angry whumper, bonded whumpees, Romantic whumpees, just a whole lot of fear and conditioning, brief mention of self-harming behavior due to stress, mild sexism

***

“No, you stupid bitch, that’s not what I—“ Hunter sighs in frustration, slamming his fist into the doorframe. “Fuck! Don’t you dare hang up on me, I will fire your ass so fast and make sure your little bonuses aren’t enough to get you through the week!”

All of Comet’s senses are going into overdrive at how angry Hunter is, and he keeps one hand on Star’s back, a snarl stuck in his throat. Owner. Angry. Danger. He knows how it works. Mr. Bianchi has something bad happen at work, and he gets mad, and the bonded pair of pretty, breakable Romantics become his outlet. Speaking of…Sunny is kneeling next to Mr. Bianchi, visibly shaking with each time their owner raises his voice.

He shouldn’t be that close, not when Mr. Bianchi is so angry. The Romantics are gorgeous things, and Comet doesn’t understand why they’re starved, especially Star. His heart warms as he looks down at her, despite how tense she is. He loves her, but the bond between her and Sunny…

He loves her and he protects both of them when Mr. Bianchi’s guests get too handsy. That’s all he can do.

Another shout from Mr. Bianchi has all three pets violently flinching. “Are you really that dumb? Do you understand how fucking basic this is? A goddamn baby could do it. My fucking pets could do it! Even the brainless mutt of a Guard Dog.”

It’s not supposed to hurt. But it does, and Comet tries to keep the red off his face, knowing it’ll only enrage the man.

“Maybe you should sell yourself to WRU. I think you’d be better as a Romantic than my employee.” Hunter rolls his eyes. “Don’t trust a woman to do anything that requires the smallest bit of thinking.”

A particularly vicious kick to the doorframe has Sunny whimpering, his blue eyes full of fear, and Comet can tell that Sunny is doing his best not to pull away.

He doesn’t envy that about the Romantics, all the training so they stay in place when a hand wraps around their necks and squeezes.

Comet gets to pull away. Sunny stays still like a good boy, and Star gets beat into the ground for daring to move. He can feel it now, how she wants to run to the boy and save him. He keeps his hand on her back. Don’t move, or he’ll make me hurt you and that hurts me too.

“Oh, don’t tell me that I’m sexist, sweetheart, I got two Romantics and they’re different genders…I mean, yeah, I treat the girl worse cause she’s a fucking bitch! Just like you, sweetheart. Awh, you want to file a complaint against me? Did you forget who you work for? Yeah, you should be fucking scared!” Hunter punches the wall again and recoils in pain. “Fuck! Listen, you dumb bitch…”

Star’s head snaps up and her back straightens, taking a position of attention, and Ray’s heart drops when Mr. Bianchi notices.

His smile is amused at first, but out of nowhere, his face twists with rage and he grabs an empty beer bottle, lobbing it at her head.

There’s no time to prevent it from happening, and all Comet can do is watch. Star yelps as the bottle smashes into the side of her head, glass scattering everywhere. A few shards embed themselves into her face and the rest fall to the floor.

Comet feels a surge in his chest, the need to protect her from Mr. Bianchi, but he’s powerless. If he does anything that he wasn’t ordered to, it’ll only get worse.

Star picks the largest shard out of her face and throws it to the floor, a few drops of blood falling with it. Comet keeps his hand on her. Don’t move. Please, Star, don’t move.

You’re still pretty even with glass in your face and that makes me nervous.

“The dog thought I was talking to her. I’m not done with you, though. You fix your mistake now! I don’t fucking care if you don’t sleep for weeks.”

There’s a brief pause before Hunter gets quiet—a dangerous sort of quiet that sends a chill down Comet’s spine. “Say that again.”

It’s the eye of the storm and Comet knows tonight is only going to get worse.

“You fucked up that badly that we lost a fucking buyer?” Hunter’s hand fists in Sunny’s hair, drawing a whine from the boy.

Both Star and Comet are tense, and he’s ready to grab her and make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.

Hunter gives Sunny a condescending shake while he growls into his phone. “Listen. I’m done with you and your smartass mouth. I’ll give you ten minutes. Pack your shit and start running. Ten minutes before I send someone after you to make sure you don’t fuck anything else up. Got that, bitch?” There’s true venom in his voice as he hisses out, “I’m angry? You’re goddamn right I’m angry! You just cost me thirty thousand dollars!”

His grip tightens on Sunny’s hair and he lifts the boy up, slamming him full force into the wall.

There’s a crunch. There’s a sickening crunch and then silence. Sunny falls to the ground, his body twisted like a puppet. His eyes flutter open only to flutter closed just as quickly.

Comet doesn’t realize what the ear piercing scream is until he feels Star jolt, wanting to race forward.

He holds her back. He holds her back and he knows, something deep inside him knows the boy didn’t make it, isn’t breathing anymore.

Star feels it. She’s curled up and screaming, pushing against Comet with all her might but not going anywhere.

Mr. Bianchi is quiet too, but he keeps the phone to his ear as he bends down and presses two fingers to the inside of his neck. His cold, angry eyes lock onto Comet after a minute of poking and prodding with no response from Sunny.

The boy doesn’t move, his neck bent at a cruel and unnatural angle. All the light has been sucked out of the room and Star is still screaming, clawing at the floor and Comet can feel her grief and anger. Her pain is so great that it clogs up the air and leaves an acidic taste on his tongue.

Mr. Bianchi breathes out, his fingers still pressed against Sunny’s neck. “Comet, get her out of here.”

He can’t move, his eyes are locked onto Sunny’s…body.

“Comet, now!” Mr. Bianchi roars. “Get that stupid dog out of here and make her stop screaming!”

The yelling snaps Comet back to reality, lets the white walls come crashing down and remind him that he needs to follow orders. But more importantly, as he picks up a screaming, shaking Star, he feels a pang deep in his chest. He can’t lose both of them, and Mr. Bianchi seems drunk and angry enough to lash out at Star and kill her too.

He can’t lose both the people he lives for. He was trained to keep both of them in line and with both of them gone, what would he do?

With both of them gone, what would happen to the warmth that blooms inside him when he sees them smile?

Mr. Bianchi is still talking on the phone, still talking about his work, and Comet feels himself get mad. He’s a good dog, he knows he is, but he wants to lunge and rip out Mr. Bianchi’s throat, watch the red drip across the hardwood floor.

Sunny is dead, so he doesn’t. Instead, he does what he can and holds Star close, carrying her up the stairs and being careful not to jar the glass still stuck in her face.

Mr. Bianchi is still talking like he didn’t just kill Sunny, like in a split second he didn’t just rip a bonded pair apart.

Like Star’s heart didn’t rip out of her chest the second Sunny was killed.

She’s an incoherent mess by the time they’re back in the pet room, and it’s scaring Comet. Star isn’t the one who acts like this, she’s not the one who falls apart. He gently sets her on the floor before heading to the bathroom to grab the med kit, her sobs echoing around him.

He sits on the floor and gently brings her head into his lap while he works at removing the glass with tweezers.

“He’s g-g-gone…” Star stammers out, her chest heaving. “Sir killed him…he killed Sunny…killed me too…Comet, it hurts, this can’t be happening…”

All that only confirms Comet’s suspicions. She feels his pain like it’s her own, and with him gone, she’s falling apart. He runs his hand through her hair, and the other finishes pulling glass from her face.

Star shudders, gasping for air. “I’m dying, I can’t…I can’t do this, I need him back!”

Comet doesn’t know what to do. He can’t make it better but he doesn’t like watching her suffer. He pulls her into his lap, pressing her back against his chest. “Do you want to sleep?” he murmurs, arms wrapped around her waist.

She can’t stop crying, a seemingly endless stream of tears falling down her scarred face. “M-make it stop…I see him dying…why would Sir do that? I n-needed Sunny to survive and now he’s gone! I l-loved him…he was the good one, he was always the good one and this is my fault.”

He’s not supposed to talk much, but he hasn’t cared about that rule for a while. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he whispers into her hair.

Star scratches at her arms, her whole body shaking like Mr. Bianchi had come at her with the taser. “You gotta bring him back, Comet. You need to.”

A sob gets stuck in Comet’s throat and he can’t push it down before the sound escapes. “I can’t, Star, please stop hurting yourself.” He was made for violence and at the end of the day, when all the light is gone, it’s the only thing that makes sense. He puts Star in a chokehold, feeling tears spill down his cheeks. “G-goodnight, Star.”

And then, once she’s limp in his arms and he can finally let go, he whispers, “I loved both of you and I can’t lose you too.”

The last time Comet cried was in the Facility, being beaten with a baton for misbehaving. He’s a good Guard Dog now, and good Guard Dogs don’t cry, but he’s not a good Guard Dog. He failed to protect the bondeds.

Maybe Mr. Bianchi bought him not to protect them, but at some point, that changed. He curls himself over Star’s body, sobbing pathetically. He lives to protect them and he failed.

He loved them both, but their Sunshine is gone.

Sunny has gone and taken all the light with him.

#bbu #box boy universe #bonded whumpees #lady whump #male whump #character death #alcohol tw #pet whump #star #sunny #comet #hunter bianchi #blue's words

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sugarakis-p2 · 1 year

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High stakes and blood chapter 12

Rebel has been caught and bred by Mothman Shigaraki. She has a new dangerous family to look after while her old family needs her. She has to wheel and deal with monsters, who she has a shady past with, and Tomura holds the key to her happiness if he doesn’t kill her first.

Warning: Dub/con Moth Shigaraki, family fighting, cussing, mild violence, It's smutty with a spit roast. Blood and violence....mushy's stuffs and death threats.

CLAN RUMBLE! It's the end of the hammer fight. The hive is blending exactly how to be expected...not well. Looks like Shiggy is rubbing off on Rebel too much on her. Dabi came through and brought more members to the hive, it's thruple time! Yay! Shigaraki is not thrilled. He knows it's their way, but he wants to be sure Rebel loves him the most, so he will attempt the worse. Romance...and...(gulp) a marriage proposal.

Chapter 11

Chapter 12: Thruple

The reason she named herself Rebel is because she is not weak.

You don't go against the flow if you are weak. You can't afford to be vulnerable when you have mouths to feed and debt to pay. Nothing in this world is free, not even love. Adrenaline is pumping through Rebel's veins so fiercely that the rest of the world is blocked out. Sparks flew, the sharp tang of lighting and iron coating her tongue. The ring of metal set her nerves on fire. She loved it!

It has been forever since she had a good old fashion hammer fight. The last was with Rusty. It must have been the fourth time she had run away from the Counts. Rusty was angry with her. Rebel took too long to come home. She had left him as far as he was concerned. He is very good with a hammer and brought her to her knees. But never again after that.

Aunt Sara is sprier than she thought. With a back-swing, Auntie aimed for the side of her head. How annoying. She should just curl up and die already. Ducking, Rebel thrusts the hammer into her Aunt's soft gut. Gasping, Sara doubles over with a weak overhand hit of her hammer. Weak or not, it made Rebel stumble and falls to her knees.

Shigaraki growls and moves to interfere. He doesn't care what Rebel told him. She has too many secrets. If she died today, he would be mad. Hana would be too much for him to handle alone. Even with the hive helping, he wouldn't want to raise her alone. What does he know about raising children? He steps towards the fight when a sharp point of a knife is under his chin. He growls and looks at the source.

"Don't be basic. Trust my sister. It must be this way. If you don't listen to reason, I will slice your neck open right now. By the way, you are very articulate in the human tongue. Damn impressive pretending not to be," Rusty smirks. His brother-in-law is vicious. Shigaraki looks around. It appears all his new family are on the low-brow spectrum. He is not about to tell him that he uses a translator spell to fill in the gaps, which breaks when he gets worked up into a rage. He got one from Cain for the whole hive with a little extra encouragement.

Aunt Sara is overhand pummeling the shield, not allowing Rebel to gain purchase back to her feet. Feet sound like a good idea. The strike on the shield cracked bone. She heard and felt the pain rocket up her arm with a burning sizzling sensation. Rebel flips her hammer over to stamp Sara's toes, missing, it makes Auntie squeal and dance away.

That gives Rebel enough time to thrust herself up into Auntie's face with the shield. Rebel screams at the searing pain in her arm. Gripping the leather strap, she spins the hammer. It's a dangerous form of fighting and not recommended. Rebel swing the hammer towards Sara's head, barely missing as the woman dodges back.

The dangerous part, the momentum of the hammer can make it smash your own body unless you snap it just right to bring it back down. Sara's lower half exposed by her dodge. Rebel steps forward, and the high arch of the hammer comes down on Sara's leg. A wet crack followed by a scream fills the room. Shouts of triumph. Rebel grits her teeth.

If you are not with her, you are against her, ran through her mind as she gripped the handle. She is about to bring her hammer down on her Aunt's head. When an old callused hand grabs her upper arm. Rebel snapped back to reality. She wanted to win. Wanted to kill her Aunt. Big Daddy is there, and her other cousin, who is also named Daddy, he is called Big Dee.

"That's enough now, babygirl. Auntie yields. Isn't that right, Big Dee?" Daddy tells Rebel. Big Dee has pulled Aunt Sara away. Her knee was a bloated mess. Since her other cousins are slow, Big Dee speaks for that side of the family.

"Yes. With a knee like this, she won't be challenging anyone, much less you, Rebel. Hail to the family head!" All the cousins hailed. Rebel narrowed your eyes. She can't be weak, even with family. A piece of her died. Her Aunts knee is a mess. Rebel doubts she will ever be able to use it again. All the family is drinking and partying now that their differences have been resolved. Daddy helps Rebel down, shaking his head.

"What was that about? Never mind, now that you are home, let's drink!" he shouts. Daddy's mind has gone to mush. But he's not giving up an opportunity to drink. Shigaraki lifts her without warning, with Dabi and Rusty following. In the middle of blood lust and adrenaline, she had not felt how broken her arm was. Looking at it, it's swollen black, blue, and red, the skin shiny and distended.

"Shiggy, how far back does this screw with our plans?" She asked with a whine.

"Do not concern yourself with that right now," Shigaraki hissed at her. He decayed the shield from her arm. She screamed as Rusty worked the medication salve and wrapped it tightly with a cloth and a leather brace. Rebel drank heavily until she passed out. Not sure if it was from the pain or the liquor.

Dabi cooed over her unconscious body as he carried her and laid her in the nest because Shigaraki had to put Hana down to sleep. Infuriating Shigaraki. His ire was already flared by the insanity he had just witnessed. He did not know these people were like this. He liked Rusty. He was having a good time until his mate got severally hurt and was threatened if he tried to interfere. Cain and Dabi laughed their asses off at his expense. Shigaraki knows this is his lack of foresight. He didn't know anything about his mate.

He took her because she was pretty, smelled good, and was too clever. He loves his little human. A new emotion was blooming. Jealously? With Cain, he felt angry because Rebel should be angrier. He doesn't like Cain or trusts him. He can tolerate Dabi and trusts him a hell of a lot more. Then why? Why does he hate seeing Dabi woo Rebel? It's not anything new. Dabi always remains within the boundaries set. A low growl is building in him.

Dabi kisses her. Coming over in too much joy. More than he has ever seen on Dabi.

"I got us over six hundred new members for the hive," he bragged. Shigaraki's heart sank. He must fulfill his part of the bargain. He must share his mate.

Jenny watched Hana sleep. Somehow the golden child crawled into her crib. Not that Jenny cared. Toga probably put them together. She wants them to marry like a sick nut. She starts to reach in the crib when she hears a familiar laugh.

"Jenny, Jenny, Jenny, trying to kill the baby," the Count tsks. He looks down to see the mangled nursey slaves. Bleeding from their throats. He chuckles at the sight, "And attempting to blame it on us vampires, I see. Sloppy. You are such a shit show."

Jenny's face contorted into an angry pout. She grips her silver hammer with white knuckles.

"I don't know why she let you live," Jenny gritted.

"Your sister will see right through this. Real experts trained her. The Mothmen have an amazing sense of smell. Your father, mentally unstable or not, won't stop Rebel and Shigaraki from tearing you from limb to limb over you, killing a baby. What exactly are you trying to accomplish?" the Count asks.

Jenny's grit turns to a pathetic sob. She points at the crib.

"This fucking tit sucker parasite is the only thing keeping Rebel here. If it wasn't around, Rebel would go home. We could all go home. Rebel…Rebel…she could fix it. She just needs the time and to be away from these fucking monsters," Jenny snivels. The Count looks over the corpses.

"Fix what exactly?" The Count glides closer and regards the sleeping babies. Jenny steps away from him, not answering, "I do have an idea. I bet Rebel already has an idea, and I agree with you. If this baby disappeared, Rebel would be back at home. Which is why I can't let you do this."

Jenny tensed, getting ready to fight. She reeked of fear. Her eyes are wide as she backs away from him. All that bluster, he thinks. He investigates the crib with disgust. He wants his Rebel, and this thing is the anchor to Shigaraki. Sure, they are lovey-dovey for other reasons these days. But the loss of a child will rip them apart quickly.

"Not yet anyway. We have to bide our time and wait. Make it look like an accident. Make sure we don't get caught," Cain says.

"We? There's no we. There will never be we disgusting vampire," Jenny seethes.

"You want to be head of the family someday, correct? Then there is we, Jenny dear," he says. He might have felt something if the baby looked more like his Rebel. But it looks too much like Shigaraki for Cain to care, "I will take care of these bodies. You go back to the party."

"I…how will I become head of the family? Theirs still Rusty," Jenny mumbled. The Count started draining the bodies. No sense in wasting perfectly good food. He chuckles, showing her his blood-stained smile.

"Awwww, Jenny, you really have to stop trying to think. It's not your wheelhouse. I will take care of these. Get going," he sneered. Jenny skirted around him and went back to the party.

"The blanket is quirk proof?" Dabi asks. Shigaraki is holding Hana out for breastfeeding with his gloves on. A few weeks have passed since their return from the vampires. Dabi is starting to lose his patience. Shigaraki has told him it has to be Rebel's decision. He is allowed to pursue and sleep in the same nest. But Rebel has been unreceptive. It seemed like she was giving in when Shigaraki interfered.

"Yeah, but it's hot. Shigs. Tsk. This is just not going to work. Hana doesn't like being held like a smelly fish," Rebel frets. Her arm still hurts, so holding the baby herself was out of the question.

"Let me. Shigaraki fans us with your wings," Dabi says, reaching out for Hana. Shigaraki is tentative, pulling Hana close to him first, unwilling to hand her over. But the grub is crying. She was hungry, two of the wet nurses had disappeared, and Rebel was losing her temper. Shigaraki hands her off and takes Dabi's position, fanning his family.

Dabi held the grub with experience, wrapping his arms around Rebel, cradling Hana to her chest. The baby suckled eagerly. In this position, he can nuzzle her neck and hair and whisper sweet things. Maybe a few kisses along that smooth neck. Rebel is thrilled to be feeding her baby. So emotional about it, she started crying, ignoring who was kissing her. It is so rare to see his hard mate cry.

Shigaraki is watching, his jealousy boiling and rising. He hates seeing his mate with his child looking like a happy sweet family. Why? This is how they did things. Dabi is whispering sweet words about how Rebel is a good mommy. So, caring. He respects her and admires her. She is so capable and clever. His lips trailed closer to the crook of her neck. Rebel was happy to be close to Hana despite shuddering in disgust at Dabi. She looked like she wanted to cut Dabi open. But Shigaraki still felt threatened. Dabi licks closer to where his mark used to be. Suddenly it was so clear. Rebel looked repulsed, ready to say something foul that would disrupt their ways and his vow.

"Dabi, break the language spell," Shigaraki insists suddenly.

"Excuse you? What are you going to say I can't hear?" Rebel Asks. Dabi gives a curious look, then one that says he will indulge Shigaraki. As if he is not the leader. Shigaraki mentally rolls his eyes while Rebel gives him a real one while they disregard her.

"It's going to be a bitch putting that spell back up. Don't expect me to help after this," Dabi said coldly. Shigaraki was nonplused. This is understandable. If it was him, he would have been less reasonable. Once it is broken, Shigaraki flicks his antennae to Rebel.

"She is about to reject you," Shigaraki states flatly. Dabi's stony exterior is about to break. Shigaraki raises his palm to stop him before he acts rashly. He was about to admit something disgusting and embarrassing, "Rebel is softer than we thought. She did not warm up to me until she nursed me back from death. It was .... intimate. I cannot share her until my mark is on her."

Dabi's eyes narrowed glaring daggers.

"I have fulfilled my part. I brought enough females to end the conflict over mating rights. I have seen hives collapse without enough of them. I want what I am owed. I have seen leaders slaughtered for less," Dabi rumbled deeply. Shigaraki nods. He has seen the same too. Whole hives collapsed over a female not able to satisfy enough males. In some hives, the males outnumbered the females ten to one. He knew one that had twenty husbands. The woman looked utterly miserable.

"Give me a few nights alone if I cannot convince her to do the right thing. We will break her together. I would rather break my word to a human than to my brother," Shigaraki said gracefully. He didn't feel this way entirely. His Rebel is a master of cruelty, and he loves it, but his mate has taught him sweet talk and to be a better liar.

Slowly plunge the knife in before the twist. She had said that in her sleep with a sick grin. Rebel looked like she wished she could sink a knife in his eye now. A thing she has tried. Dabi looked dubious, but he snorted, 'whatever.' With Dabi, it is not what he says. He is not saying that as long as Shigaraki remembers he is the leader and must deliver on his vow, he will go along for a few moments longer. No more if Shigarkai breaks his word. He will burn the hive to the ground and take what he's owed.

"Why are you talking about me like I am not here?" Rebel growled.

"You had to break the spell for that?" he snorted. Secretly pleased that Shigaraki was attempting to be a leader.

"I'm jealous," Shigaraki hisses in shame.

"Why?" Dabi asks. He sounds more like he is scolding a child. They are made and bred to be monsters. Things like jealously were petty grub feelings, especially since she is marked.

"Rebel needs to be remarked. You don't love her, do you?" Shigaraki questioned. Dabi looked annoyed as she searched for her mark. Then confusion when it was not there. A smirk tugged at the corner. Dabi would like to claim Rebel. But that would be admitting he loves and therefore needs Rebel, that he has emotions. He wasn't big on feeling. He submits, indicating he will comply for a little longer.

The process of enacting the spell again was tedious. Shigaraki didn't need it, but the others did. Sure, enough, there were knocks on his door. He opens it to several bitching Hive members. He told them he was working on it and to fuck off. Dabi burped Hana. Oh, how Shigaraki hated Dabi at that moment. He was good. He knows he shouldn't. If something was to happen to him, it would be Dabi who raised Hana like his own. It was the vow between their kind.

Shigaraki gave his thrill junky mate a night flight. She liked speed; he could show her actual speed. Rebel whooped and screamed for him to go faster. Higher, faster, higher, drop, drop, please drop! She begged. At one point, she wriggled from his grip and plummeted to the earth. He panicked while she howled in delight.

"Are you insane?" he snarled when he caught her in time.

"Maybe!" Rebel laughed. He wanted to admonish her for being too reckless, but he had never seen her so happy. So happy with him. He took her to the top of the hive. A place he loved to watch the moon. Rebel sat heavily on her bottom as she giggled and stared at the sky.

Dabi is a fool. Had Dabi marked her after admitting his mark had disappeared, he could claim Rebel for his exclusive pleasure. But he hadn't. Shigaraki would have. Making Shigaraki feel closer to him despite his false indifference. Shigaraki goes off to grab something. He had hidden something special up here.

"Rebel, over here," he rasped. She looked over to see a blanket and a picnic basket. She squealed as she ran over to sit on the blanket. She can smell it now. Fried chicken combined with the scent of her favorite sides. Shigaraki trilled at the sight of her happiness. It was rare, having only seen it when she first held Hana.

He asked Rusty what it was Rebel liked. The first thing he said was money. Barring that, their mother's fried chicken. Shigaraki had to pry the information from him with advice on wooing Toga, which disgusted Shigaraki.

"Why would you want to stick your dick in crazy is beyond me. Besides, your family has been hostile to us and the vampires," He stated. Rusty laughed.

"Pussy is pussy, bro. I'm a modern man, and what woman isn't crazy? I don't share the same feelings as the rest of my family about you guys. However, I hate vampires for what they have done to my sisters. I hate Dad for allowing it. Ask my mom to make some fried chicken, that will get my sister wet," Rusty said before he spotted Toga and ran off. Rusty was an interesting one.

"What are you thinking about?" Rebel asked, interrupting his memory. When his crimson eyes meet her eyes, she giggles. He cocks his head, wondering what amuses her, "This is clearly your attempt at romance. Why?"

"You are obviously avoiding Dabi. Still, after I warned you that this could not be averted if he brought more members to the hive. We cannot lose him. Fire is life when you are starting a hive. What are you scheming?" He throws back her accusation. Rebel had pulled out the bread, putting coleslaw and chicken on it, turning the meal into a sandwich monstrosity that made him cringe when she took a bite. Rebel chews while she considers her argument.

"What need is there of this bargain? I have Kai working on breaking the curse. He can have babies with other people. We have other fire flys in the hive now," She scoffed. Shigaraki eyes widened, and he buzzed with frustration. He wanted to smack his defiant, strong-willed brat of a mate.

"None that have proven to trustworthy like Dabi. He wants to cement his status and future status at this hive. That is not unreasonable considering what he has done. The queen at a normal hive might have a grub with every male of the high court. It's not just about how many we can have," He informs. Rebel pales, swallowing audibly.

"I thought you said that was dangerous with my dwarven ancestry. Are you saying I might have to have sex with Spinner? He has two…no. No. I don't want the job. I don't know if I want that many kids. I love them, but I already have many to take care of. You've met my family. That's overwhelming….," he silences her with a look.

"Rebel, you are part of the hive. We won't leave you to raise any of the children alone. You don't have to worry about hunger or someone trying to take advantage of your younger siblings here. You are safe. Quite running so hard. Always running towards your family. Well, they are here, so stop. This is not how I wanted this to go," Shigaraki hisses.

"Hey," she says, getting his attention from his brooding, "You are trying. I haven't. We both don't know what romance or a healthy relationship looks like. It's not that Dabi is bad. I didn't want to break my father's heart. He had to use his family to pay his debt. It's why some of the kids look different. I mean, I don't like being used to paying off debt. But I don't hold that against either of my parents. I don't want to break my father's heart with poly wedlock bullshit. I want to love. I want what we had in that disgusting forest," Rebel says with sadness. He pulls her close. What they had was beautiful, and he wants that again as well.

"Your father insists on marriage. We can perform a ceremony to please him. I love you. You have taught me love is vast by giving me Hana," he says, setting her sandwich down. He makes her look at him, "I can share my heart if I am number one in your love, next to your blood family. It is your decision. If you wish to stay with me, let me mark you. A king has to think of his people, too, though. You have taught me that as well. You are always thinking of your people first."

His kiss is deep and passionate. She has taught him this also, and he doesn't understand why his flock has never tried before. He can taste her past the sandwich.

"Your choice," he panted between breathless kisses. Rebel held her hand up to stop him.

"If I choose you, does that mean I might end up with a dozen babies with different hive members?" She asks.

"Yes, or you can leave in peace with your family. We will not darken your door. I will not hunt you down. Stay with me. You will be loved and never have to carry your burdens alone. We need your calculating mind. You, as one of us, there is nothing we can't destroy," He rumbles deeply with a rasp. His claws played with her hair. Watching the starlight dance on the strands. She looked at him and snorted.

"You are such a liar!" she laughed. Pulling his face to her. He smiled against her kiss because he was a liar, and she caught him. They pressed foreheads together, his feelers tasting her emotions, "I chose back in that cave. I was hoping to get away with not being a broodmare. Maybe next time. I love you." Pulling him down, with her laying on top of him with open arms. Guiding his mouth to where she wants her mark put back.

Shigaraki roared with pleasure against her flesh. Rebel's hot blood shot down his throat. He could never let Rebel go. He knows she is the only woman he could never get bored with. Rebel whimpers but grits her teeth, keeping him pressed to her as his teeth sink deeper, fingers clutching his hair. Rebel screams when she can't take anymore.

Shigaraki pulls away and lathes the wound. His saliva will help heal it quicker. He rises and pulls her back into his lap. Rebel reached for her sandwich again, but he took a huge bite. Before it could reach her lips, it wasn't bad.

"This is nice," she says. He nods, staring at the moon and taking bites of the offered food. She is watching him watch the moon. This is undoubtedly his favorite spot. And he is sharing it with me. A wicked idea occurred to her, "I know where we can get a wedding dress, and Cain will hate it." She whispers it to him, and he loves the idea. He pours her a little gin but monitors her liquor consumption. Rebel quirks her eyebrow questioning him.

"I want you to be nice to Dabi when we get back," he says, stroking her hair. She whined about her mark, "Quit lying. When it comes to marking, our salvia makes up for the pain."

"How is this going to work? Is it going to hurt like the other times?" Rebel shudders at the memories. They are part of why she does not want a relationship with Dabi. She liked his personality, but he was cruel in the bedroom.

"I keep forgetting you were a virgin. We didn't make it pleasant. No, this will be different. I promise it will feel good. I will be your first always. Dabi will come second in your heart. You will be first in my heart, while Dabi will be second. To Dabi, you will be first, and I will come second. See, you are already twice as loved," he reassures. Rebel takes another swig, unconvinced of the arrangement. Dabi has been a sadist to her. Shigaraki has never raised a hand to her. He is too worried he will decay her. So, he had been using Dabi as her punisher.

Rebel poked Dabi. He opened his eyes to Rebel, offering him a sandwich. Shigaraki is behind her, and he nods that it's ok. Dabi takes a bite; Rebel is initiating intimacy. She was instructed what to do. When Rebel is obedient, she is a quick study. Shigaraki lays down in the nest by Dabi while he eats. Watching as Dab slowly sucked at each finger. His long tongue wrapping around her tender flesh. Enjoying himself.

He grabs her wrist and pulls her to him. For a moment, Rebel's heart raced in a panic. Shigaraki was ready to admonish Dabi to be kind. But it was unnecessary. He had pulled her into a long sensual kiss.

"It's been too long. I've missed this. I am pleased you have chosen us. I will be nice, my little princess," he grins. Giving her over to Shigaraki, he encouraged them to kiss, watching his lovers in delight.

Dabi kisses them both on the side of their lips to entwine his tongues with there's. Shigaraki has said he is indifferent to Dabi, but he is annoyed when Dabi takes too much of a lead or tries to touch him too much. He lets it pass; this is Dabi's night, so he will let him indulge. Dabi puts her fingers in his ruff and Shigaraki's simultaneously.

"Mmmm, that is a pretty sight. Rebel, you pick up where we left off quickly. Shigaraki get into position," Dabi says lightly. Shigaraki snorts in annoyance but does as asked. Rebel is shaking in fear. He says he'll be nice. Rebel has no idea what that looks like. Dabi brushes her hair aside to whisper in her ear, "Kiss him down his front, get on all fours, and suck him. I'll be gentle. Go on, then lift your ass for me."

Rebel does as she is told, Shigaraki reassuring her she is safe. She runs her tongue down the middle of him. Enjoying his hard-toned muscles. Running her digits down his plush groan. His large cock was erect and waiting for Rebel. Her hand delicately stroked over his cock, pressing his hot length against her face. A sweet, eager smile as she kissed up to the tip, she stiffened when she felt Dabi touching her. Dabi kissed her shoulders, lightly kneading her breasts.

"So, sweet. What a good little butterfly you are of late," Dabi mumbles, licking down her spine.

Shigaraki moans when her lips part, and she takes as much of his cock in her mouth. Slowly edging the head towards the back of her throat. She gagged a little but has improved over their time. Shigaraki chittered and cooed, encouraging Rebel since she seemed to always enjoy them. Dabi has glided down to the top of her ass, kissing and groping her cheeks.

Rebel's eyes widen, and she whimpers on Shigaraki's length. He is careful, with loving crimson eyes, and keens he promises her she will be fine. Dabi is slicking himself with her wet folds before pushing himself in. An expression of relief graces his face the moment he has entered. Rebel freezes in her attention to Shiggy while she is panting and trying to adjust to Dabi's cock slowly entering her.

Dabi's breath is hitching with intermediate chirps. Soft, warm, and wet. Dabi isn't picky about which holes or who's he's fucking. But Rebel is unique to him. She is his sharp-tongued brat that is unbroken. Even on her hands and knees, he can feel her resisting him. One day she will love him and thank him for the times he has had to punish her. The way she complied with his demands with eyes filled with malice makes him drive a little too fast.

Bottoming out roughly. Rebel squeals with her mouth full of Shiggy. She looks up at him with a plea in her eyes, and Shigaraki growls a warning to Dabi. Dabi smirks, then nuzzles Rebel's hair. Letting her adjust to him for a change. She relaxes and continues to suck with gratitude. The way she looks at him with her beautiful eyes while her mouth is full of him is pure euphoria. Her mouth is hot and moist with a hint of teeth.

He feels vulnerable. She has gotten quite good at manipulating his pleasure, coaxing lewd pleads from him. He groans, resisting the urge to thrust or grab her head and swallow all of him. He watches as his large cock slides in and out of her gradually at first until she forms a rhythm. Once she looks comfortable with her task. Dabi rose, gripping her hips he starts slowly bucking to Rebel's protests.

"Come on now. This is not the first time. You are not a little virgin anymore. I already promised to be nice. Relax a little and try to enjoy it. I'm not going to hurt you tonight," Dabi says. He meant it, much to his disappointment. But Shigaraki is the first and sets the rules. It was simple tonight. Shigaraki said once he marked her, Dabi could have them any way he liked as long as he was gentle with Rebel. If he wanted her impregnated and a good girl, he must work on her wanting to be fucked by him more than once. Show her he has a kind side too.

"And without me occasionally. Be discreet, I don't want to know about it, and we don't want her father catching wind of it on a good day. I know how exciting a mating frenzy can be, but seeing your cum drip from her pussy will push me to my limits of tolerance. Her father seems to have ultimate control over her. If she can't do what he asks, she will be miserable and make our lives miserable if he finds out," Shigaraki had bellyached.

Dabi doubts that Rebel would ever fall for it. Dabi has played the bad officer because that is who he is. He must admit, he likes it when she's a good girl for a change. He can enjoy her hot tight cunt without being on guard of her trying to stab or claw at him. It feels like heaven. The room is filled with the sound of buzzing wings and moans.

Shigaraki watches Rebel with full attention. He pushes her too hard on his cock every now and then, and she gags and tightens on him. But doesn't try to kick him to stop. Rebel twirls her tongue at his head. Dabi's cock stretched as he pumped in and out, glistening with Rebel's juices. She can feel the vibrations of Dabi's wings in her core. Her clit throbbed to be touched. Shigaraki can feel the vibrations of her humming.

"Your pussy is clenching on me. Here I will reward you," Dabi says. Leaning down, his fingers circle her clit. Rebel shivers in pleasure. All of them quickly climbed to the crest of ecstasy. It's not long before the heat and hate in Shigaraki's gut tighten to release in her waiting throat. The tempo is increasing.

Dabi is gliding the head of his cock over the sweet spot in her. It was much hotter than she expected. His fingers are pressing and demanding. The tension and need in the room growing. The smell of sex makes them dizzy. Shigaraki felt himself come undone, his toes curling and head thrown back. He growls, pulling her mouth from him by her hair. Barely pulling her away in enough time to miss his knot, her lips still wrapped around his head.

He loves the intense sensation of her suckling and swallowing his cum. He pulls it out of her mouth with a wet slurp, a string of drool still attached. Shigaraki is gasping and chirping, chest rising and falling as he stares at his sweet mate, looking dazed. Rebel screams in abrupt surprise when overwhelming pleasure washes over her.

Dabi slows his pace to grind deep with shallow thrust in her wet, stretched pussy. Loving the sensation of her squeezing pussy. She flutters on his cock. She screams his name as she rubs and wiggles underneath him, begging him to stop. Dabi can't. He needs this to last longer. He grabs Shigaraki by the hair, pulling him into a breathless kiss, making him lightheaded.

Shigaraki is startled and growls. He is about to yank back when he remembers he vowed to let Dabi have his day. So he closes his eyes and pretends it's Rebel, which is problematic because her mouth is back on him, licking him clean as she whines. Dabi growls and pants as he feels her spasm again, her juices soaking his groin. She is squeezing his head just the way he loves. Her body is milking him. They reached the height together as a trio. The wave of euphoria crashes through them. Dabi breaks the kiss to roar in pleasure as his knot expands. He spurts hot ropes of cum on her writhing body, her tight pussy making him tear up. It's so good. His white-hot seed filled her to the brim. It's much hotter than anticipated each time. Rebel often worries his burn will burn her.

His eyes are rolling to the back of his head, his wings creating a buzzing sound as they flap with tension and joy. Jaws clenched as Dabi finished; he chirps at her. Dabi has never seen her like this, so kittenish as Shigaraki wipes her mouth and plants little kisses around his eyes. Praising her for being a good butterfly. His good girl.

Shigaraki lifts her so Dabi can hold her while his knot softens. Shigaraki helps them both lie-down. He wipes them both down with moist, cool towels. Fanning their heated body with his wings. Dabi can see Shigaraki is bitter about sharing his mate's womb, but he is acting more like a leader. It's not just his aftercare. Shigaraki and Rebel have changed. It doesn't seem like a bad change, but time will tell.

"Rebel, grab your knees. It increases the chances," Shigaraki instructs. Rebel does as told. Dabi is in shock and in overwhelming ecstasy because she had just tightened on him more in this position. Dabi is a bit frustrated that she looks at Shigaraki with adoration and him with pure hate. But he can work with that too.

Dabi groans. This is fun, and he can't wait for more.

The three of them lay in the nest together. Shigaraki gently held her close.

"Dabi, are you awake?" Rebel asked timidly. He cracked his eyes; he gave her a faint smile as he reached out with his hand and ran his fingers along her jaw. It always surprised her when he was gentle.

"Do you need something, little runner?" he asked, rubbing his thumb over her lower lip.

"Do you care about Shiggy or me?" he leaned in a kissed her sweetly.

"I remember you saying, 'I can make us a happy family, if not a happy one, then a dysfunctional one together at least.' I'm not big on feeling anymore. But I think if anyone could teach me, it would be you. Come here. I want to go again, be sure I'm a part of that family you want to make happy," he moans pulling her under him. Deftly replacing her body with a pillow.

"Won't Shiggy be mad?" Rebel squealed quietly. Her eyes darted nervously to his sleeping form.

"Silly girl. You don't know the rules yet? Of course, he won't be mad. This is how we share and stay together. We'll be quiet not to wake him. Pretend you love me, just for this night at least," he breathes, lining up his hardening cock.

"Dabi, are you in pain? I don't want to hurt you," Rebel asked, spreading herself wide for him. He paused and stared at her. She still didn't like him at all. He was wondering if this was a part of the act. It was unexpected when he saw she did care. She is still unbroken, but she is softening to him.

"I remember when you tried to stab me and yank at my stitches. You have become so sweet and docile. Stick to the smooth skin, and you will be fine," he stated. Rebel wrapped her arms around his middle and kissed him like she loved him most of the day while Shigaraki slept soundly. Shocked, Dabi managed to be considerate. Silencing her moans with his mouth.

Five months later, Lemillion was instructing Deku how to patrol for curfew violators near the prison when a pregnant woman rounded the corner and clung to Deku.

"Please, help me. Night creatures are chasing me. He wants to hurt my baby," she wailed.

"Rebel, don't be foolish. Step away from the knights. It's time to go home," Cain said with his stupid grin, stepping out of the shadows and flashing his fangs. Rebel clutched at the green knight. The other knight put his visor down.

"This lady seems afraid of you," Deku says lowly.

"Deku, that's a vampire. Let me handle this," Lemillion said.

"Handle me? Do you really want to handle me, little boy? I could always use another husband," Cain chuckled. Rebel can feel the knight she is hugging tense, but the other one seemed nonplused. Good.

"Vampires are not allowed in this sector without their license clearly displayed," Lemillion said sternly. Cain ignored him.

"You there, plain green boy. That is my bride. She is confused. The pregnancy has made her moody and paranoid of late. As for you, handsome knight. The license is only when I am hunting. I am not hunting; I'm retrieving my wife. She doesn't have a bite on her. I saved her from Mothmen and have applied for permission to turn her after birth," Cain sneered. Coming closer and cutting his wrists.

"He uses blood magic. Please. He is not my husband. Please! Be careful," Rebel cries, letting the small knight push her behind him. Cain stops and snarls.

"If that is the truth, you can send your familiar to fetch her in the morning when you show the proper paperwork," Lemillion said, standing his ground. Cain saw something behind the knights and backed down with a growl.

"Very well. Take good care of her for the interim," he says, walking away. Rebel breaks down and cries. Thank the young knights.

"He won't come for me with paperwork. I am so scared. He slaughtered my family," Rebel sobs.

"Then we should go after him," Deku says. Rebel grips his arm tightly.

"Are you insane? That is The Count of the Index, one of the fathers of Vampires. He is extremely powerful. I don't know what chased him off, but it certainly wasn't you two. You are courageous, though. Thank you again," Rebel sniffles.

"It is because I AM HERE! In that case, I should go after him. If what she says is true, he might try to attack the prison. Instead, take her t the headquarters and put her in a spare room," All Might said. Taking off after Cain. The two boys guided her to their place. All Might arrived empty-handed and talking to a man. Mumbling something about a time limit and letting her stay here.

She is put in a spare room near the green knight's barracks.

"I'm sorry about this, but I have to lock you in for the night," Deku said, exiting.

"I don't mind. I am just grateful to be away from that monster," tears staining her cheeks. She looks at him with beautiful glossy eyes. He began to fidget, "Can I ask my hero's name?"

“Deku, and it’s no big deal. I promise we will try to keep you safe," He says.

"I'm Rebel SmithHammer. Thanks again, Deku," she says with a trembling lip. She slumps on the bed and weeps. Deku leaves her after arguing with himself if he should stay and try to comfort her. He finally landed that it would be rude and unwise since they didn't know her.

Rebel lies in the dark for a few beats before jumping up and stripping layers. Dressed in black in the style of a ninja. Rebel wipes her face and smiles. She pulls out her lockpick kit and gets to work like a black.

"Knights are so gullible, huh, little grubby?" Rebel asks her belly.

{Writers notes: This is the end of this part of the series. I would like to finish a few others before I come back. But I do hope enough interest builds up that I'm not just spinning my wheels here. I know it was a long time coming. But it is a precious little grubbie that hisses and needs to be done all sorts of right. Next series is going to have some fluffy domestics, a wedding, and a prison break.

I have some time, if there is a favorite, now is the time to ask for another chapter.

I love you, take care, Kudos and comments are always appreciate.]

20 notes · View notes

neopuppy · 3 years

Text

Stronger (M)

Preview: 1st installment in my 3000 follower requests-

Jaemin/Jeno with size kink/bulge kink/lactation kink/dacryphilia kink

thank you for the request, have combined this idea with mine, enjoy!

Pairing: alpha Jeno x female omega Reader x alpha Jaemin

Word Count: 4k+

Genre: one shot, a/b/o, omegaverse AU, pwop(plot if you squint super hard), threesome, fwb, nomin as gym trainers AU

Warning: explicit language, smut, friends with benefits, competitive sex, cocky boys with big..egos, unrealistic amounts of stamina

Smut Warning: strength kink, body worship, manhandling, mild degradation, slick, alpha knots, breeding kink, crying, slapping, choking, submission

a/n: requests are permanently closed.

“Ow! Fuck!” You whimper, groaning. Landing on your shoulder, rolling over to relieve the pain shooting up your arm. Jeno frantically squats down, hard dick nearly slapping you in the face. Wide eyes full of concern as his hands hover near the arm you’re cradling.

“Oh my God I’m so fucking sorry baby. Do you need to go to the hospital?!” He sounds apologetic, worried. Settling a hand over your bare hip, thumb stroking back and forth. You hiss, lifting you arm weakly with a roll of your shoulder.

“I think….it’s ok…” Jeno’s head shakes, taking in the anguish all over your face. Wrapping around your waist and other arm to lift you. Hesitation has you clawing at the floor, not ready to experience hurdling to the ground from mid-air again.

“Babe, I’m sorry!” Jeno feels you struggle against his hold. Hoisting you up to lay on top of his bed. “That’s never happened before! I just…I lost my balance!”

Nodding in attempt to settle his anxiety, you get comfortable against Jeno’s pillow. Scent of the alpha prominent in the cushion. Wafting through your sense with calm. “Maybe, an ice pack?.. and some cuddles?”

“Anything for you” Jeno leans down kissing your tender arm. Sorrowful scent wafting off his prominent neck gland. He rushes off, returning with an ice pack in hand. Laying next to you scattering light kisses up and down your arm. Pressing the freezing bag on your skin, murmuring apologetic words when you hiss from the contact. “Can’t believe I did that..”

“It’s okay Jeno, I’m not mad or anything. You owe me a lot of pampering.” You pout, letting Jeno roll on top of you pecking at your lips. There was no time for another round anyway, settling for some sweet touches and soft words.

You’d need to get to the gym for a session with your trainer in a couple of hours. Today just had to be arm day..

Jaemin was never easy on you, always left you aching. Whether it be from a sweaty training, or fucking you to tears.

—————————————————————————

“Why are you being so fucking lazy?” Jaemin presses his chest to your back. Hands cupping around your elbows, shooting you a heavy brow filled glare in the mirror. Pushing your arms until you curl in heavy weights with a painful groan. Arm throbbing with hurt the more pressure you put on it.

“I’m not!” You shriek, dropping the weight from your left hand. Shaking out your arm, urging blood circulation to flow faster. Jaemin’s hold wraps around your forearm mid-air, eyes squinting looking you over.

“Is that a bruise on your shoulder?” He pokes at the faint mark forming. Hissing and pulling free of his grasp, you slap at his chest.

“Who does that! Asshole! Oh is that a bruise?! Let me fucking find out by touching it!” You shout, continuing to slap at his firm pecks. Jaemin breaking into a cocky smile, pronouncing his chest further.

“That’s right, love when you try to hurt me baby.” His hands encircle your wrists holding you steady. Gulping as you disappear under his large palms. “Is that why you’re acting like such a wimp today? My baby hurt herself?”

“Stopppp…” whining, your face drops onto his shoulder. Cheeks getting hot the more he taunts you. Jeno never played mind games with you the way Jaemin did. They were…different…similar, but different. “Jeno dropped me on accident..”

Jaemin pulls away, confusion twisting his brows together. Hold slipping to your forearms not loosening. “He WHAT?”

“It was an accident!” Right as you get ready to continue defending Jeno’s name, the studio door slams open. The alpha himself stepping foot inside, throwing down his gym bag. Scoffing as he spots you and Jaemin embraced.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be working out?” Jeno’s eyes thin. Pulling off his t-shirt, revealing skin stretched tightly over his muscular physique.

“We were, but some dickhead hurt my angel.” Jaemin let’s you go, hand coming under your chin. “What did Jeno do to you? Do I need to beat his ass?”

Jeno pauses in disbelief, betrayal evident in his features. Your head shakes rushing to explain.

“No! He’d never hurt me on purpose! He dropped me when we were fucking earlier and..”

“Oh my God.” Jeno groans, raking hands over his face. More embarrassed than annoyed now. Jaemin’s arrogant laugh busts free, bouncing off the mirrored walls.

“You fucking dropped her with your dick inside?! Oh man, this is too fucking good.” Jaemin boasts, clicking his tongue. Hand gently placed on your sore shoulder. “How could you hurt my delicate fragile little omega like that? See…this is why you should only fuck with me.”

Jeno approaches, arms folded across his chest. Shooting daggers into Jaemin’s head with his eyes. “That’s not what happened! I…I slipped!”

“Jeno…don’t lie babe..you dropped me!” You move closer to him. Stroking over his bicep to calm him down. Jeno pulling away like a scorned puppy.

“I’m not lying! I SLIPPED!” Jeno growls. Fists rolled up at his sides. Jaemin keels over cracking up, dropping to his knee’s. Hand waving in the air, other wrapped around his stomach.

“Stop..stop” he heaves out between catching breath’s. Wheezing out laughter after each inhale. “This is too much. Ah, I told you to stop skipping leg day man.”

“Dude fuck off! I FUCKING SLIPPED!” Jeno shoves Jaemin’s shoulder. The other alpha losing his balance, falling to the floor. Rolling around turning into a giggling mess.

“Ah, that’s my ab workout for the day. I knew I was better at fucking than you..” he sits up, hair a mess from tossing around. Winking at the both of you. “That’s why she always comes back for me, isn’t that right.”

Jaemin gets back on his knee’s swiftly, arms pulling around your waist. Drawing you in, cheek laying on your hip. “Would never drop you my queen. Would rather sacrifice myself, it’s what I’d deserve for being such a weak bitch.”

“That’s it. Get up, I’m kicking your ass.” Jeno grits, fists twitching. The alpha on his knee’s tosses him a menacing look. Brows wiggling up and down suggestively.

“It’s the truth isn’t it Jeno? My dicks bigger, I last longer, I’m flat out stronger than you.” Jaemin slowly stands up straight, reaching Jeno’s eye level as he finishes his sentence. Both alphas glaring into each other’s eyes intensely. Defined smooth jaws glowing under the gym’s studio lights. It’d be hot if you weren’t so concerned with them ripping each other’s heads off.

“Guys come on! Chill out! It’s not a big deal alright!” Your hands try to pry them apart, uselessly. The brawny figures not budging a bit from your attempt. “Jeno didn’t drop me too hard! I’m fine!”

“I DIDN’T DROP YOU!!” Jeno shouts, arms thrown in the air. Quickly shoving at Jaemin’s chest, the other alpha catching himself stumbling back in surprise. “I fuck her better than you ever could. My dick drives her crazy.”

Jeno pulls you into his chest, hips shoving against your ass. Teeth finding your earlobe with a rough bite. “Tell him baby, tell him how I fuck you until you pass out. Can’t even walk when I’m done with you.”

“She probably can’t walk cause you make her get on top!” Jaemin’s grin grows, tongue rolling against the roof of his mouth. Firm grip squeezing your hips, drawing your lower half to his. “My poor omega, has to get fucked properly by me. You probably cum before she even can either. Bet my baby has to fake her orgasms with you all the time.”

“Jaemin!” You whimper, manhandled between the pairs of hands on your body. Heat flowing up to your head making everything feel foggy. Stupid meathead alpha’s and their amazing dicks. Jeno and Jaemin had to make a competition out of everything. Workout sessions with the both of them were brutal. The only perk ended up being getting fucked by one of them, as they’ve proven not knowing how to share well.

“You want to prove that asshole?” Jeno’s arms reach around you neck. Strong muscles encasing you in a chokehold with no threat. Marking his claim with a new position, wordlessly stating- this is my territory. “We all know my dicks bigger. She never has to fake anything with me. I know how to use it unlike you.”

Jaemin rolls his hips against yours, growing turned on the more Jeno tries to degrade him. Loves how easily his best friends ego can be bruised with a few words. “Yea Jeno? How much do you wanna bet I can last longer? I don’t need breaks, I can fuck standing all night. You know I never miss a leg day.”

“..a bet?” Jeno questions. Nose brushing your ear softly humming to himself. “We both fuck her, see whose all talk. I win, you guys stop sleeping together.”

“Huh?!” Your eyes widen, meeting Jaemin’s. Hatred flies past the alpha’s eyes quickly. He’s never had a problem with the ‘friends with benefits’ relationship you all established. It’s always been Jeno trying to ruin it.

“That’s fine. I won’t lose. Rock paper scissors for who goes first, 5 out of 5.” Jaemin finishes with a thrust at your covered core. Lowly grunting in his chest, eyes locked on Jeno’s. “No weak shit. Real alpha’s can handle fucking a small omega anytime, anywhere, any way.”

Jeno’s arms tighten around your neck on instinct before you can protest. Spitting out leaned in closer to Jaemin’s face. “I’ll win, she’ll be mine. Shut your ass up for good.”

—————————————————————————

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” You rest on your palms against your bed. Completely bare watching Jaemin and Jeno throw out their decided hand for rock, paper, scissors. Eyes rolling up when Jaemin beats Jeno’s paper with scissors, mumbling to yourself- “what am I? a hole?”

Jaemin slaps your thigh, brows lifting. Sinking down to his knee’s parting your legs open.- “That’s how you like it baby. Know how you love getting fucked open like a good little cock sleeve. I’ll go first, let Jeno have my leftovers. He’s used to that.”

“What are you doing? The rules are that we stand.” Jeno scowls, crossing his sculpted arms across his naked chest. Thick cock hanging between his legs, too frustrated he lost already to even think about fucking you.

“Ever heard of foreplay? Damn Jeno, you don’t even get her wet first? There’s no way you fuck her dry with that monstrosity.” Jaemin nods to Jeno’s limp dick resting against his thigh. Between the both of them you’d be sore for days. Determined to fuck you harder than the other, all too familiar with the love of tears they both seemed to share.

“She’s always wet for me, I don’t have to work for it unlike you.” Jeno spits, sitting on the corner of your bed. Three of you deciding this would be the fairest choice, something about being too ‘comfortable’ in their own space. Burying a hand in Jaemin’s hair, you tug him hard enough to draw his attention back to you. Two hot naked alpha’s and not one of them touching you yet irritating more than arousing.

“Pull harder.” Jaemin stares up at you with a dangerous eyes. Hands slapping your inner thighs parting you open further. His biceps flex, twitching as he hoists your thighs on his shoulder. “Fuck my tongue just how you like baby.”

Ending his sentence with a lewd spit to your core, his fingers swipe between your folds. Gripping your bed sheet in one hand and his hair with the other as he mixes spit with slick. Jaemin wasting no time, fingers working in rapid successions swiping side to side. Messy wet sounds grow louder, chewing at your bottom lip to hold in needy whimpers. Jaemin’s tongue licking over his lips leaving them looking shiny, tempting. Ready to devour you whole.

“A-alpha…more..please” mewling out. Jaemin slaps a heavy hand on your mound. Slick splashing out past your thighs pulling a cry from low in your chest.

“You know what to do.” Jaemin growls, slapping over your pussy meanly. Licking the slick coating his hand, tongue sliding between his fingers like the depraved hungry alpha you know him to be. Dirty, messy, always thirsty to taste you from every hole. Tugging at the hair gathered in your hand with force breaks a smile out on his face. Eyes bunching up hidden cutely by the swell of skin protecting his under eyes. Hardening dick spasming along his pelvic when you pull harder. Your hips lifting in the air, soaked up pussy calling to him.

“Eat me out, please eat me out.” Pathetically crying shoving his face down closer to your burning core. Arms wrap around your thighs perched on his shoulders. Eyes rolling up looking at you full of lust. Tongue slowly inching forward, languidly dipping in. Tip of his tongue circling your clit, brushing back and forth. Stimulating nerves you never even knew existed until the first time Jaemin got on his knee’s for you.

His mouth spreads open, tongue finding your hole. Slurping up the slick sopping from your entrance. Tip circling around, pulling back with a spit at your winking hole. Tongue shoving in, pussy clenched around him. Both of your hands end up in his hair, pulling harder. The alpha eating you out like a pro, grunting with every yank to his scalp. Pain eliciting excitement in his groin. He pulls back breathy, pretty face covered in shine. Mouth hung open, dazed in your hot scent. Shit-eating grin painting his features when your eyes meet. Tears threatening to spill from yours turning him on even more.

“So tasty baby. My sweet omega.” Sitting up with a hand on your chest he pushes you back. Laid on your bed, he straddles your hips. Hands squeezing and jiggling your chest.

“Can’t wait till you’re filled up, full of milk.” His eyes stay on yours, bending forward. Teeth clamping around a hardened bud, shaking your breasts around. Drawing your nipple into his mouth with a harsh suck. Eyes rolling shut, rolling the bud around with a groan. Fingers pinching and pulling roughly at your other breast. Biting down on your lip as fresh tears pool down your heated cheeks.

“Jaemin…alpha..ah fuck..” your voice cracks. Wiping your face with the backs of your hands. Jaemin leaving your chest bitten and glossy with spit. Switching over to the other, taking time deliver you the kind of pain you love.

“Get your tits all fat when I fuck you full of my pups baby.” Bouncing your breasts in his large hands, Jaemin spits between your chest. Groaning admiring the way you glow for him. “Make you cry everyday over my cock. Anything you want.”

“Hurry the fuck up.” Jeno snaps from beside, moving up your bed further away. Jaw clenched angry, starting to regret agreeing to this idea.

Jaemin scoffs, lifting you up by your shoulders. Pulling you up to stand with a spin nearly losing your balance. Arms circling your waist, pulling you back against his muscular chest. “I got you baby, I’m not Jeno. I won’t let you fall.”

Jaemin slaps your upper thigh, hand sliding beneath your knee. Lifting you up, toes skirting over your bed. Doing the same to your other side, your feet on the bed, knee’s bent.

“No help from the bed.” Jeno spits out. Jaemin shooting him a glare of death. Arms shifting under your knee’s, holding you up against his front.

“Don’t need it anyway.” Jaemin’s lips press to your ear, gently kissing. “Hold on to me pretty baby. Let’s show Jeno how you like it.”

Confused, your arms lift, dropping behind your head. Fingers connecting behind Jaemin’s neck securely. Jaemin slowly lowers you onto his massive cock. Wet hole struggling to open up around him, clinging around his length with every inch entering.

“Ugh..” your head drops to the side, the alpha’s nose nuzzling into your cheek. Eyes shut holding in tears, juices trickling from your core slicking the way for his size. Thrust up filling you, mouth hung open choking on air. Full, so full. Jaw loose, drool spilling out. Jaemin’s hips pistoning, cock hitting deep. It was too much already, letting tears spill down your cheeks. Jaemin’s sounds of pleasure at your ears. Pussy aching, clamped around his forceful size.

“Love when you cry for me. Get me so fucking hard baby. Cum around my cock, let me feel you.” Jaemin hisses against your cheek. Pulling out half-way, swirling deep inside letting you feel every inch. Violent shakes erupt through your body, weak in his grasp. Pussy tightening up around his cock, creamy slick easing Jaemin’s thrusts deeply in.

“I’m cum…cumming” your face drops, the alpha continuing to fuck through your pleasure. Slick slipping down his legs, hips jackhammering up. Bouncing you down on his cock like nothing. Head jerking with every brutal thrust working you open.

“Damn baby, you’re too tight.” Jaemin howls, dropping you down onto all fours. Pounding your pussy open, slick leaking out on your bedding. Crying harder into the mattress as the alpha’s pace only quickens. Feral alpha inside screaming to claim his omega, fuck her until all she knows is our cock.

Jaemin’s eyes glow red, watching the way your juices coat his length. Drawing back, slapping your hips against his. Cunt clinging to his cock beautifully, fucking your insides to a mess.

“Please! Alpha!” With another drawn out cry your back dips arching in. Ass sticking out further, cumming around Jaemin one more time. Eyes rolling back, thrusts turning sloppy. Jaemin groaning, head shaking around trying to force away his orgasm. Savoring the way you squeeze around him to milk him dry.

“FUCK!” Bending forward Jaemin lays over your back. Jerky hips hitting yours, hot white liquid bursts inside you. Little anguished whimpers flow to your ear, smile pulling at your lips. Jaemin always turning into a weak little baby whenever he couldn’t hold off his orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re so amazing.” Hot breath’s tickle your neck. Bitten chapped lips drawing kisses on your upper back. Slowly pulling out with a hiss. Cum spilling out, scrunching your nose up as it flows from your core.

“My turn.” Jeno grunts, standing. Hand wrapping around your calve dragging you to the other side of your bed. Yelping as he pulls nearly pulls you completely off. Jeno jerks his half hard cock up and down, not enjoying a second of watching you scream for Jaemin. Looking away whenever his eyes connected with either of yours. “I’m not hard yet baby.”

With a hand encircling your neck, he pulls you into a seated position. Dry tear stained face gazing up at him. Ab’s tense flexing in your face, cock dangling near your chin. Fingers dig into your throat, mouth falling open with a gag gasping for air. Jaemin loved teasing you, making you go crazy. Jeno loved breaking you down, turning you into nothing but his. His lips pulls back baring teeth- “what are you gonna do to fix that omega?”

Jeno’s hold draws you in, nose smashing on his stomach. Rubbing your face over his washboard abdomen, dipping into every crevice of toned defined muscle. Swollen core beating faster between your thighs, arousal stirring back up after the ride Jaemin put you through. Your eyes roll back, dragging your tongue through each dip in Jeno’s stomach. Spending extra time at his belly button, sinking in and out. The alpha watching you with hazy eyes, balls tightening up. Loving how high you always get off his body alone.

Lapping at the prominent veins raised on his skin, leading down to the thick meat between his legs. Thighs flexed, knee’s bent maneuvering with your mouth. Ab’s shining under your glossy spit, scent mixed with yours breaking uncontrollable thoughts in Jeno’s head. Kitten licking down the top of his fully hardened length to the tip, slowly sliding your tongue into his pre-cum filled slit. Jeno hisses, palm on your neck constricting tighter. Choking out a cough around his dick as your lips part. Wrapping around his cock head, lightly tonguing the large vein beneath.

Jeno releases you with a push, inhaling a deep breath as you land abruptly on your bed. He pushes you legs up, folding you into your chest. Knee’s at your shoulders, big hands cupping your calves. Dick finding space between your folds, gliding up and down. Covering his size in all of your wetness. Slick flowing out, dripping down past his balls. Jeno’s eyes flutter, familiar heat rising in his gut. Arms reach under your back, lifting you up with ankles dangling past his shoulders.

The position pulling memories of the other day back, your arm barely recovering still. Fear flows from your scent, annoying Jeno, tossing you up and catching you easily to prove a point. Jaemin clicking his tongue from your bed in displeasure. Laying himself out on the mattress, cozying up ready to watch Jeno fail.

“Not gonna fucking drop you.” Jeno’s teeth clench, sucking in a spitty breath. Skin hot like fire around you, fury heightening his arousal. Pulling you even closer, flexibility saving you. Jeno catches your lips kissing you, with care, softness. An apology for what he’s about to do to you. Nodding against his nose, lips fall to his jaw peppering soft pecks.

Jeno bends at the knee, grip around your thighs lifting you up. Your arms squeezing around his neck. Slamming you down on his dick with loud screams. Jeno releasing a raspy cry between grinding teeth. Shouting his name, neck dropping back. Jaemin’s eyes rolling watching it all unfold, Jeno had to make it romantic somehow.

Jeno mutters out praises, diving his length past your walls. Hips stilling, soaking in your pretty wails, the way you squeeze around him. Good omega, my pretty baby, no one takes me better than you, Jeno’s words drive you crazy. Slick spilling out past his size, anticipating whatever he’ll give you next. Sharing breathless pants locked together. His thighs drench in your wetness, rolling hips around stretching you around his size. Silently scoffing to himself how his dick’s much thicker than Jaemin’s.

“Alpha..” you whine hazily rolling your neck around. “Fuck me, fuck me hard.”

“You’re so wet” Jeno sighs, hands sliding down digging into the meat of your ass. A loud squelch sounds as he pulls out to the tip. Wasting no time, hands grip your ass, drilling back inside you with a hissed raspy growl. Jeno starts fucking you deep and slow, hitting every spot. Walls stretching around his cock with every drawback. “Love how you feel, always so good.”

He knows your body well now after months of hooking up. Sitting with you impaled on his size for hours, watching movies, playing video games. Training you to be his perfect little cock slut. Sweat rolls down Jeno’s face faster, working your body up and down his length with the strength of his arms alone. Back muscles jumping and contracting as he speeds up.

Hips snap into you, slamming you down on his cock. Loud noises of skin meeting skin sound around your room. Jeno’s teeth in your view, growling as he fucks up into you faster. Jostling up and down Jeno’s cock has the room spinning, legs cramping up. Stomach drawing in with a shouted cry. “Fuck Jeno! More more!!”

His thrusts grow frantic, hips bruising your ass with every bounce. Nails sinking into his upper back, scratching down. Orgasm punching through your chest, head tossing back screaming for your alpha. Jeno cries fucking past your pussy sucking him in trying to empty him. Twisting, falling to his knee’s managing to gently lay you on the floor. Hips still, pressing hands to your lower stomach.

“Keep those legs up for me, let me see how pretty you are.” Jeno mumbles, thumbs pushing your belly button in. Hips grinding, size hitting deep inside. Veins pulsating against your wet walls. Fucking you full to the brim, cock head finally protruding the skin above your mound. Eyes squeezing shut losing grip around your legs, flopping down on Jeno’s thighs.

“S-so..so full alpha. So fucking full.” Your broken whimpers drive Jeno insane. Neck and chest puffed out, breathing rapidly his knot finally starts expanding. Your cries and shouts harmonically flowing together. Jeno collapsing over you, lifted on his elbows. Whispering jumbled words, cum filling you up further. Satisfied stuffed full of cum from both of your alpha’s.

“My omega, my good omega. Fucked full of my pups. Takes everything I give her always.” Jeno sighs, a wet kiss on your forehead the last thing you remember before exhaustion takes over.

—————————————————————————-

Jaemin hums against the dip in your neck, breath cascading over your cooling skin- “so, who won?”

Jeno mumbles on your other side. Nose tickling your scent gland where he inhales softly. Relaxing as your scent circles his senses. Your fingers drag through their hair, scratching gently at their scalps. Like two sleepy puppies nuzzling at your sides. Fucking you past the point of coherency. Leaving you stuffed full of alpha cum just how you loved. The answer was obvious.

“Me.”

a/n: Thank You for 3000+ followers🥺 it’s all happened so fast, I hope these requests can express my gratitude💘

tag: @seuomo @unknown5tar @sunoosi @ahsshilee-me @nabi-nono @nc-teen @kimsaerom @if-i-like-i-reblog

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romione-trope-fest · 2 years

Text

The Boathouse

We love this Sixth Year AU from @zurisenchantedquill!

----------------------------

Fic Title: The Boathouse

Author Name: zurimadison

Selected Trope: 6th Year AU

Brief Summary: After Ron’s infamous fight with Ginny, he goes to the boathouse to get some air.

Word Count: 2,360

Rating: T

Any Trigger Warnings: mild language

Ron rips his arm from Harry’s grip, fuming as he glares at his sister. Ginny, her face streaked with angry tears, continues to yell. Her words are muffled in his ringing ears, as though he’s been submerged under ice cold water and the sound around him is distorted.

Hermione and Krum.

His ears and neck are hot, and his heart is beating so fast that he's sure it might push out of his chest. He turns and strides away, ignoring the echoes of unintelligible shouting that follow him down the corridor.

Hermione and Krum.

The words reverberate in his skull, colliding and exploding with his every insecurity.

Was it so awful that he didn’t want to witness his sister snogging anyone, let alone his dorm-mate? She and Dean hadn’t even bothered to find a very hidden spot. Ginny’s lucky that he tolerated her relationship to begin with! He could pull the bro code out on Dean anytime he wanted, but he doesn’t, does he? He’d just been trying to say that she should keep some things more private and she retaliated by…

He punches a passing suit of armour, his fist bouncing off the shoulder plate with a loud ping and a flash of pain.

“Fuck.” He scowls, shaking his sore knuckles and blinking his stinging eyes.

How could Ginny think that taunting him about Hermione was a fair blow?

“Ron?”

He freezes, clenching his throbbing hand and refusing to turn around. Usually, the sound of her voice makes him smile, but at the moment- when he’s angry, flustered, maybe even close to tears- she’s the last person he wants to see.

“Not now, Hermione.”

“What’s…what’s wrong?” She’s timid, no doubt as a result of his dark mood.

He shakes his head and continues along the corridor, away from her. “Nothing I want to talk to you about.”

Hermione and Krum.

Scowling, he stalks through the Entrance Hall and pushes the doors open, revelling in the bite of the evening air against his blazing skin.

What did she see in that idiot anyway? Talent? Riches? Good looks?

Tosser.

Ron kicks moodily at a loose stone, shoving his hands in his pockets. Who is he kidding? He could never compare to Krum. What can he, Ron, possibly offer Hermione that Vikor bleeding Krum can’t do better? Of course she picked Krum, with his stupid broomstick and stupid World Cup final.

His spontaneous trek across the grounds is mindless, but Ron isn’t altogether surprised to find himself near the boathouse. He descends the last few stairs to the door, which is rough and splintered by weather, and pushes it open with practised ease.

He’d been spending more and more time here over the past few months, seeking comfort in the quiet solitude of the lapping water. He walks to his usual spot, a column near the open mouth of the building, and leans against it, enjoying, for a moment, the view of the sunset reflecting off the dark, rippling water.

“Ron."

He hadn’t heard her approach, and his muscles tense again.

“Hermione. You followed me here?”

“Yes.”

He turns around, glaring at her. “What do you want?”

“I want to know what’s wrong with you.” She shivers, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Nothing.”

She takes tentative steps towards him, trying to meet his eye. “You said it was nothing you wanted to talk to me about. Me specifically. Are you mad at me?”

She was too damn perceptive.

“Leave it.” He clenches his jaw and tries to slide past her, too angry and embarrassed to explain his behaviour. She blocks his path, wringing her hands like she always does when she’s worried.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

Despite her obvious fretting, he recognizes the determined set of her jaw and knows he’s in for a healthy dose of stubbornness.

This bloody witch. Sometimes, she makes him want to tear his hair out.

He’s plagued by the sudden image of her pulling on Vicky’s hair while they snog, and Ron’s ire boils to the surface again.

“Why don’t you just go and write to Krum?” The words explode out of him and he pushes past her, aiming to make a quick getaway.

She shrieks, though the sound is interrupted by an abrupt splash. His heart jumps into his throat as he wheels about, searching for her in the undulating waves between tethered boats. A moment later, she resurfaces, gasping.

“Hermione!” He kneels down. “Are you alright?”

She wipes her face as she treads water, and her wet curls wrap around her head at all angles as she scowls at him. “You knocked me in!”

“It was an accident!” He rubs the back of his neck. “C’mon, let me help you.” He extends a hand to her.

She accepts his offering, gazing up at him. Before he can register the dangerous flashing of her eyes, she braces her feet against the wall and pulls. This unexpected tactic knocks Ron off-balance and he launches headfirst into the freezing lake. The water surges up his nose, and he thrashes to reemerge, coughing when he can again breathe.

“Bloody hell, Hermione, what was that for?”

She’s a wild kind of beauty when she's glaring at him like that, and he sometimes wonders if she reserves this vibrancy just for him.

She narrows her eyes. “Did you say Krum?”

His fight with Ginny floods his brain, though it’s hard to be angry with Hermione while they’re still submerged in water so cold that he’s losing feeling in his extremities.

“Your lips are purple.” Ron swims towards the ladder. “Let’s at least get out first.”

“Fine,” she sniffs, and he hears her following him. “As long as we actually talk.”

They perch themselves on the edge of the walkway, in Ron’s favourite spot. The sun has set by now, but Hermione performs a clever little charm that dries their clothes and hair instantly.

They sit in silence for long enough that Ron halfway hopes she won’t bring Krum up again. He likes sharing his oasis with her. Even in the quiet, her presence comforts him, and he finds that he doesn’t want to pick a fight with her anymore.

He sighs. Nothing like a plunge into freezing water to cool a temper, but, if the purse of her lips is any indication, she isn’t going to let him off of the hook so easily.

He decides to get it over with.

“I ran into Ginny snogging Dean tonight.” He stares at his hands as he talks. “And I…I freaked out. We were shouting at each other, she was crying, and-”

It’s difficult to explain the next part of the story. Hermione shifts her weight back on her hands, surveying the dark water and waiting for him to finish. The low lighting reflects off her olive skin, and her profile is swathed in shadows. His next words come out as a whisper.

“She said I’m weird about snogging because I’m the only one who hasn’t done it. She said…she said that you and Krum…”

Darkness shrouds them, though the light of a nearby burning torch dances over her cheekbones.

She’s so beautiful, sometimes it hurts to look at her.

She sighs as she leans forward, swinging her dangling legs. When she finally meets his gaze, her expression is sad. “Well, Ron….we did.”

His heart clenches and he grits his teeth, jerking his head. “Right.”

“It was two years ago. I admit I was curious, and it felt like he was the only person in the school who knew I was a girl. It was nice, but it’s over.” She shrugs, biting her lip. “There’s only one person I want to snog now, and it’s definitely not Krum.”

The way she’s looking at him tempts him to ask her who it is that she wants to snog now, but he’s equally worried that he doesn’t want to know the answer. He settles instead on addressing her other comment.

“I knew you were a girl.”

She tilts her head, catching a glint of light off her honey-brown hair. “You did?”

“Yes. I’ve known it for a while.”

“You…you have?”

He can’t tear his eyes from hers, and his secrets tumble away from him, unplanned. “It’s driving me mad, actually.”

“How so?” She swallows, licking her lips, leaving them so glossy and kissable that he has to suppress a moan.

“You know when you can’t reach something because you’re too short, and you have to ask me to help you?”

“How does that drive you mad?”

“Your, erm, well, your skirt raises.” His voice cracks as his ears heat, the sensation continuing down the back of his neck. “Just so. When you’ve got your arms up. And s’not much, nothing I should even notice, really, but that extra inch of your legs...”

Hermione shivers. “What about it?”

“Well, by the time I reach over your head to get whatever it is that you need, you’re so close to me and I’m distracted by your skirt and all I can think is what I would do if you…if you were to turn around to face me.”

She mulls on this information, rubbing her legs together and resuming her surveillance of the lake. With the loss of her eye contact, the spell breaks and he puts his head in his hands, groaning. “I’ve mucked this up, haven’t I?”

“No.” He whips his head around, and with a casual movement she positions herself so the outside of her hand rests against his. The slight contact burns his skin with the fire of the sun.

“Is there more?” she asks.

He gives a shaky laugh. “Definitely. Hell, yes.”

“Keep going.” Her gaze is imploring, and something else. Something unfamiliar, but exciting. Arousing. “Please?”

Ron isn’t positive about what's happening, but he likes her fiery expression and is sure he’ll do anything to keep it that way.

“You chew on your lip.”

She nods, skin flushing. “I know; it’s a bad habit.”

“Remember the other day in History of Magic when you got mad at me for not paying attention?”

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “Every class.”

“It’s your fault. You're the reason I’m always distracted.”

“I am?” She’s breathless, and he’s surprised to hear that his voice dropped lower and took on a gravelly tone.

“Nibbling on your bottom lip, brushing your quill on your cheeks.” He reaches a shaking hand to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear, letting his fingers graze her skin.

She’s watching him as though he’s the last book on the New Releases shelf.

“I can’t take it anymore,” he whispers.

She entangles her fingers with his, cupping his hand against her cheek. The softness of her skin sets his insides on fire.

“You do stuff that drives me crazy too, you know.”

He blinks, ignoring the stutter of his heart. “In a good way?”

“Yes, of course in a good way.” She smiles. “After Quidditch practice, you come to the common room, fresh from a shower. Your hair is all wet, swept like this.” She runs her fingers through his long locks, pushing them to the side. “And you smell like sandalwood and mint.”

They stare at each other, closer than they’ve ever been.

“I’m worried that if I say anything, I’m going to ruin whatever is happening,” Ron admits.

She giggles, and the uncharacteristic sound vibrates through him. He decides to ask her the question he’d avoided earlier.

“Who is it that you want to snog now?”

“I asked him to go to Slughorn’s party with me.” Her smile is flirtatious as she squeezes his fingers. “We’re sitting together in the boathouse, and I’m hoping he’ll make a move.”

Time seems to pass in slow motion. His heart hammering wildly, he closes the distance between them, nuzzling his nose against hers. She pushes her lips into his, and, after a moment of ecstatic disbelief, he reciprocates her movements. He’s overwhelmed by sensations that are distinctly Hermione: the fruity smell of her shampoo, the feeling of her soft skin, the way her wild curls tickle his cheeks, how small her fingers are, entwined within his much larger ones.

They pull away from each other, breathless and beaming. Ron’s sure he’s the luckiest damn bloke in the world.

“Mione?”

“Yes?”

He grins. “Thanks for following me out here.”

She frowns, and the delicate bubble in his chest pops.

“What’s wrong? Was the snogging not very good?” His ears are burning with mortification.

“Oh no, Ron.” She grabs his face and plants a firm kiss on his lips. “The snogging is perfect. We’ll definitely be doing more of that.”

He can’t stop the smile that tugs on the corners of his mouth. “We will?”

She giggles again, a delicious sound, and nods her head. “I’d like that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just that, I don’t want a repeat Third Year, or Fourth Year for that matter.” She pulls both of Ron’s hands into her lap and grips them tightly. “We do better when we talk to each other.”

The sentiment is simple, but more honest than he’d previously been with himself. He’d meant to push her away tonight, and not tell her a single thing about his fight with Ginny. He probably would have ignored her the next morning, and if history was any indicator, their estrangement would have stretched out weeks, even months. Maybe he wouldn’t have been able to go to Slughorn’s party with her, and he’s so looking forward to seeing her get dressed up to spend an evening with him, Ron Weasley.

He meets her earnest eyes as she brings one of his hands to her lips and kisses his knuckles. “Promise me that we’ll always talk?”

It’s the easiest, most honest oath he’s ever made.

“Always, Mione. You’re my best friend.”

They walk back to the castle, and she smiles at him as she slips a tentative hand into his. He squeezes it, equal parts ecstatic and overwhelmed by the events of the evening. Sneaking a glance at her, his heart skips at the prospect of more.

Sixth year is going to be great.

#submission

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hurting-fictional-people · 3 years

Text

Continued from here

At first, Hero doesn’t notice the slight changes around them.

They wake up, and the pain wakes as well, flooding them with its burn and stealing away their breath for the few instants they take to accept and relax into it before opening their eyes. Villain’s curled-up figure, snoring softly from the armchair next to the bed, is the first thing they see.

Hero lays their head back down and sighs when last night comes back to them. They wish they couldn’t, but they remember it all too well – every kind word, every worried touch and whispered confession.

Embarrassment burns their cheeks at the thought of Villain seeing their scars, the horror written across their face when they did. They were never supposed to see those – no one was, not when all of them were results of Hero’s fails, of Superhero’s discipline. They were a shame Hero carried for not being good enough, and one Villain should never have seen.

They give Villain a side-glance, sighing again at how uncomfortable their position looks, their body too big for the tight space of the armchair.

It’s only then that something clicks into place.

Hero doesn’t own an armchair.

They jerk upright, and immediately fold forward, holding their stomach when pain shoots through them. Hero catches the anguished whimper before it escapes, and only a huff of air leaves in its place. It’s still enough for Villain to open their eyes and sit up too.

“You’re awake,” they state with a yawn, giving Hero a once-over that stops at the clean bandages and makes their stomach churn.

“Where am I?”

Villain’s smirk sends waves of fire through Hero’s blood. How the fuck were they so stupid to trust Villain when they were at their most vulnerable?

“Welcome to my place. Do you like it?”

Hero bares their teeth in indignation and grips the sheets with the hand that isn’t holding their injury. “Take me the fuck back.”

“Oh, no can do, sweetheart. I gave you the nice guest room, though, I think you’ll like it,” Villain says, already standing up and calmly walking around the bed. Hero doesn’t move from their spot under the duvet, not when they can barely move without grunting, let alone get up and follow the bastard. “What do you say about breakfast? I’ll be right back with it.”

Hero can only watch as they leave the room, and the lock clicks behind them.

They fall back on the pillows, staring at the ceiling hopelessly.

Villain locked the door. Hero’s hands tremble at the thought, at how the room suddenly seems so much smaller. They had said they’d be back with breakfast, hadn’t they? But how can Hero trust Villain after they kidnapped them?

The feeling isn’t unknown, though. Hero is way too familiar with the helplessness of being locked away from the world, isolated until they were desperate enough to comply. So forlorn they were the perfect vessel for learning, as Superhero would say. It hadn’t happened in a long time, not since they started obeying the orders without question, but the terror of being alone for hours that turned into days that turned into weeks never truly left them.

You are too unruly, Hero, Superhero always said, scowling at them after they refused an order or made a mistake, if I don’t discipline you, you’ll be just like any villain. It’s for your own good, and one day you’ll see it.

And then the door would be locked, and they’d be alone. Alone until they forgot what it was like to talk and be answered, alone until they gave up on any form of pride and just screamed at the walls that they were sorry, please, I’ll do anything, alone until–

“…hope you like toast, we didn’t have pancakes, but I do know how to make really go– hey, Hero?”

They look up to see Villain walking inside, carrying a tray filled with food. Hero doesn’t cry – you don’t show weakness, Hero, ever, or will I have to teach you how to control yourself too? –, but a sob gets caught in their throat.

They aren’t alone. They are not alone. Hero shakes their head to push away the memories and glares at Villain, carefully pulling themself into a sitting position.

“Why am I here, Villain? Am I your hostage? Your prisoner?”

A shiver runs up their spine at the thought, at the punishment they’d earn for being caught by Villain of all people – being caught without putting up a fight, of all things.

“You are hurt,” they say as if that’s enough of an answer, and sit down in the armchair again, placing the tray in the bed between the two of them and pointing at the piles of food there.

Hero crosses their arms and waits.

“Just eat, Hero, we’ll talk about it after breakfast, okay?”

“How did you even bring me here?” Something vicious is curling around Hero’s heart, something unwelcome, something painful, something they aren’t ready to admit feels like betrayal. Villain doesn’t owe them anything, Hero has no right to feel it, and yet, there it is. “Did you drug me while I bled out?”

Villain averts their gaze and sets their jaw. “They hurt you,” they seethe, the rage only barely contained in their voice.

“I didn’t even tell you why or how I got hurt, you can’t–“

“I’m not stupid. You said enough for me to guess it.” Villain looks up with such unrestrained hatred, that even though they know it isn’t directed at them, Hero can’t contain a flinch.

They straighten up as best as they can to hide it, though, keeping all of the pain carefully hidden away from their features. “Superhero helped me become the hero I am today. Each of these scars is a mark of shame, of my failure. So if you want to blame someone for them, blame me.”

But instead of appeasing Villain, the words seem to have the opposite effect. They clench their fists, nostrils flaring, pupils swallowing their irises whole. “Keep talking and I won’t be able to contain myself next time I see that sad excuse for a person.”

Hero pales, trembles. And Villain, of course, notices.

“Superhero has abused and gaslighted you, and you still blanch at the idea they might be hurt,” Villain sighs, looking up to the ceiling as if searching for an explanation there. “Scars aren’t shames, Hero. Scars are traumas, and there’s absolutely no context in which they’d be a form of discipline. That’s blatant abuse.”

“Don’t talk about them like that,” Hero says rigidly, staring down at their hands. Somewhere deep inside them, hidden so far away they barely remember it’s even there, there’s a young Hero nodding and crying along with Villain’s every word. But Superhero’s words sound louder than any old, forgotten, version of Hero ever could. We don’t speak ill of our people, Hero. And if you do, you’ll have to face the consequences, they’d say between each crack of the whip.

“Just eat,” Villain sighs, hiding their face behind their hands and rubbing their eyes.

There’s so much worry mingled with ancient fear inside of Hero, they don’t even question how fast they answer to the command. They are hurting and confused and betrayed, and their mind can’t help but fit in its usual mode of complying with each and every order. Just like all good heroes do, Hero, you must obey your superiors, and therefore help the people. Show me you can obey and I won’t need to hurt you anymore.

They eat breakfast in silence, and although Hero’s mind keeps bouncing around the argument and their future, something that went unanswered keeps bothering them until they can’t help but spill it out.

“Did you drug me to bring me here?”

Villain looks them dead in the eye, lets them see the guilt lurking there – but also the truth. “Yes. You are hurt and I wouldn’t leave you like this to be even more battered by your beloved Superhero.”

“You had no right,” Hero whispers. Tears well up in their eyes, and the air gets caught in their throat, turning into gasping breaths that are not enough. Suddenly, they can’t breathe. They can’t think. Villain drugged them after Hero trusted them and let them see it all, they drugged them and took them away and they had no way to stop and they still have no way to stop it–

“Hero!” Villain shouts, holding their shoulders and giving them a little shake. It hurts their wound and makes them gasp, but it isn’t enough for Hero to stop quivering.

“You drugged me–“ is all they can rasp out, fighting to regain control of their swirling emotions.

“I gave you a mild sedative and brought you here, that’s all I did,” Villain says hurriedly, “you didn’t wake up because you were really tired, not because I knocked you out. I’d never take your will away like that.”

“But you did!”

Their stomach hurts and their chest echoes and Hero feels like they’re falling and falling and the fall never ends.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be this upset about it,” Villain exclaims, holding their hands.

Hero snaps before even they realize what they’re doing – one moment Villain is holding their hand, the next said hand is flying through the air and connecting with Villain’s jaw with a dull thud and a sharp pain in their abdomen. Two gasps of pain sound at the same time, and both Villain and Hero curl forward, holding their respective injuries.

“You punched me?” Villain says, unbelieving. For one moment, one fleeting instant, Hero freezes and waits for the blow to be returned, only twice as bad, or maybe for them to be left alone as punishment. And then the moment passes, and Villain’s stunned eyes come back to focus. Hero pants and glares at them, but even though they’re still mad and scared, there is also guilt overlaying it all now.

“You drugged me!”

“I also kidnapped you. And it was a mild sedative, you could’ve woken up– why are you so hung up on the drugging?”

As if in answer, Hero’s heart starts to pound. It screams from their chest, thrums inside their ears. Their tongue doesn’t voice any of the truths laying there, though. Not when they can still feel the bitter taste of betrayal – what would Villain do with the knowledge of how many times they were drugged as a punishment? As a ‘calming technique’, according to Superhero? As a ‘teaching mechanism’?

“Does it matter?” they bite out, shifting their weight and holding in a moan when the wound shifts as well. “I never should have trusted you.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

But that doesn’t mean anything, not really. Superhero’s said it before, and they ended up hurt either way.

“You can’t keep me here against my will. Unless you plan on tying me down and locking me up, I’m going to leave whether you want it or not.”

Villain takes a sharp breath and grits their teeth. Although goosebumps spread across Hero’s skin, they don’t back down.

“Why would you go back to them?” Villain sags on the chair, and even though their face is somber, there is something in their eyes that looks so much like pleading that Hero holds their breath. “I can protect you. You can even ‘save the city’ or whatever, I won’t stop you. But why go back to the person who hurt you? I see the fear you’re hiding, Hero. You and I both know that the only thing waiting for your return is more pain.”

“What do you want me to do? Stay here? Become a villain myself?” they scoff.

Something flashes in Villain’s eyes, something so weirdly close to pain Hero find themself at a loss for words. And then it’s gone, as fast as it appeared, and Hero chooses to believe it was only their imagination.

“Do as you wish, but I won’t be responsible for your being hurt again,” Villain says in a final tone. “And if I have to tie you down and lock you up until you’re healed and able to defend yourself, then so be it.”

“So the ‘playing hero’ part is over, huh?”

There’s so much hurt, so many places. In their belly, in their contained tears, in their heart. Hero grips the sheets and glares at Villain’s narrowed eyes.

“I never said I was playing hero,” they respond coldly, “I’d rather be damned than be anything like Superhero.”

Villain gets up after that, but stops at the door and turns around to look at Hero. They stare at each other, and in their gazes, something builds and something breaks, and as words form and die in the tip of Hero’s tongue, they seem to do the same in Villain’s, for they simply sigh and turn their back, leaving the room without another glance and locking the door behind them.

(part 3)

#whump #whump writing #superhero whump #villain caretaker #hero whumpee #superhero villain #hero whump #villain x hero #villains and heroes #traumatized whumpee #wounded #solitary confinement mention #noncon drugging #panicking #implied past torture #kidnapped whump #manipulated whumpee #manipulative whumper #conditioned whumpee

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bokunosimpfiction · 3 years

Text

Yandere!Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Synopsis: Heisenberg kidnaps the reader. And she’s pissed about it. And so is he. Turns out there’s a lot more to it than it seems, tw: kidnapping I’m not tagging for violence because it’s less graphic than even the mild stuff in canon. Like reader gets a concussion and a dislocated arm, that’s it.

A/N: first time ever writing for Resident Evil. I haven’t even played the games, only watched a play-through and immediately fell in love with this hobo. Honestly, there’s a lot of room to make a sequel or some more from this but I have commitment issues and it probably won’t happen.

Oh and one last thing! Do you think I should add resident evil: village to my fandoms I write for or no. Let me know please!

It’s dark in your small cottage, claustrophobic with the way you stumble to the front door as fast as you can. You try to take deep breaths, but you can’t, not with someone chasing you. You cut through the kitchen, and when he reaches out to grab you, you slam the door to a cabinet as hard as you can. You can hear his pained yell.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, (y/n),” he says.

“I’ll make it as hard as I damn please!” You put your hand on the handle to the front door, twist and right before you manage to open it, a body slams into yours and you hear your arm pop. Loudly. And it burns at the elbow like someone poured gasoline on it and set it on fire.

You can hear his heavy breathing and feel the warm air on the crown of your head. “You put up a good fight, I’ll give you that much.” He presses his body further into yours, and you feel everything. The toned muscle under a layer of fat, the harsh fabric of his shirt and jacket, and the bulge that presses into the small of your back.

“You’re so small,” he coos, like he’s talking to a dog, “I can’t wait to break you.”

You manage to wiggle one arm free and jab him in the side as hard as you can with your elbow. You hear him say oof under his breath, and you take this as the opportunity to press your foot into the door and push back into him as hard as you can, to at least get him to stumble back.

It doesn’t work, he just leans his whole-body weight on you and uses one hand to smash your head into the door. He could have done it harder, you reckon, but it still hurts like a mother fucker. “Shut the fuck up before I do something I regret.”

“Like you don’t already regret breaking into my house and trying to kidnap me? Like you don’t regret slamming me into my door and dislocating my elbow? What are you going to do to me that you’ll regret? Huh?”

He looks down at you through those yellow glasses of his, light from the glass peephole reflecting off of them but his hat shading the rest of his face. “I said shut the fuck up!” He presses your head even further into the door, and your temple digs into the frame. It hurts, and your eyes water from the pain.

“Who even are you?!” You end up shouting. His grip loosens a little bit, just enough for you to move your head off the door frame and onto the actual door. “I’ve never met you in my goddamn life and you break into my house, say you love me, and try to kidnap me!”

Something in him breaks, you can tell, the outline of his features look crestfallen. “You don’t know who I am?”

“No… I don’t. And here you are in my house, chasing me around like I’m some goddamn animal you’re hunting.” Your eyes water. “I know you don’t mean a damn word you said this entire time.”

“Shut your goddamn trap woman!” His grip on your hair tightens. “I love you and we both know it; I know everything about you.”

“So, you’re a stalker? Huh, didn’t think I was pretty enough to have one.”

“I knew you had a mouth on you, and it was attractive till it was pointed in my direction.” His voice is low and gravelly at this point, like a thin string that’s pulled taut and about to snap.

“Well get used to it you fu-” You don’t get to finish your sentence, because a piece of metal from his hammer slams you hard in the face, knocking you out cold.

When you wake up, it’s hard to open your eyes. It’s too bright and the room is spinning when you move your head up. That must be one hell of a bump on your forehead. You go to feel it, only to find you hands chained up to a metal pipe on the wall. Your feet are too, but that chain is a lot slacker.

You’re lying down on the floor, a cheap scratchy blanket separating you from rough, worn down cement. It’s still hard and cold, but it didn’t scratch up your skin, so that’s something to be grateful for. You look around the room, only to find an old tv, that’s on, and playing static. That’s what was so bright, you realize.

Suddenly the noise from the t.v. stops, and you hear a voice. It’s still sounds like static, but it’s audible enough to understand the words and recognize the voice. It’s the same guy who kidnapped you. You don’t really process what he’s saying, it’s just noise to you, and you close your eyes and curl up as best as you can. Maybe you’ll wake up, and everything will be okay.

“Quit ignoring me girlie.”

You snap out of your daydreaming. The days of that warm bed and leaky bathroom faucet are over, and this cruel situation is your reality for the time being.

“Okay. Okay. But just quiet down my head hurts.”

“I’d be sorry, but you brought that upon yourself,” he says.

You can’t help but be snarky, you’re tired and already sick of this shit. “I’m sorry you don’t have the self-control to not kidnap people and knock them unconscious via flying pieces of metal.”

“Touché.” You hear back.

“Can you at least get me some Tylenol for my head or something.”

“Why should I? After all the attitude you’ve given me, I should just leave you in there to starve.” Looks like he knows how to be snarky too.

“Because you were the one who hit me in the head and locked me in here?”

“Apologize and I’ll consider it.”

You go back to your curled up position. “I guess I’ll just starve down here then.”

The t.v. cuts off again, or you just tune him out, just run your hands along the chains to try and find a lock. You find the one attached to your left ankle and begin to plot your escape. Maybe you could pick the lock with a bobby pin? You run your hands through your hair, not only to find that it was down, but all of them were removed.

You run your hands down your pajama pants. Maybe you have something in your pockets? They also turn up empty.

“Are you looking for something to pick the lock with?” You hear from the t.v. You turn back to look at it, only to see his face. He’s not wearing his glasses, and he’s taken off his worn-out bucket hat, so you can see his untamed salt and pepper hair. “I took the liberty of searching your person while you were knocked out. I highly doubt you’ll find something to pick the lock with.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that.” You find yourself saying. To be fair, you probably shouldn’t, considering that he: is holding you hostage, threatening to leave you to starve, and is clearly a psychopath, despite his claims that he loves you.

“Calm down, you know it makes me upset to see you mad.”

You can’t help but raise your voice at him. “Quit fucking taunting me! You won this stupid ass game. You kidnapped me! You can come down here and kill me now!”

“You think I wanna kill you?” He asks, you can tell he’s just as furious as you are. He chuckles lightly. “You know I love you. I did this for your own good! There are people out there. People who want to taint you and your innocence! People who want to hurt you!”

“I can handle myself just fine! I had before your psycho ass came along and kidnapped me!” Your furious, desperately searching for a weak point on the pipe with your hands while you yell at the t.v.

“And what would have happened if I didn’t?” He asks you, “lady supersized bitch in the castle would have gotten to you first… I can’t have that.”

“I’m sorry who?” You ask. Suddenly things have gotten more confusing.

“I’m not the only one who’s after you,” he clarifies. “You think I’m the one who’s a psychopath, there’s a woman out there who wants to drink your blood and eat your flesh! And monster that wants to drown you and swallow you whole-”

“Slow down! I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!”

“Don’t interrupt me! I want what’s best for you!” You can hear him take a deep breath. “I’m going to bring you upstairs and explain everything. And you’re going to behave, am I clear?”

You just nod your head.

“Good. Now stop trying to find a weak point on that pipe to get loose before I get down there. It has carbon monoxide in there, you’ll poison yourself before you get to that door.”

You immediately stop twisting the connector and drop your hands to your sides.

“Good girl…” His praise makes you want to vomit. “Now stay still while I come get you.”

When he comes down and opens that iron door and unceremoniously tosses you over his shoulder, you can’t help but comment on it. “Am I a bag of potatoes to you?”

“Don’t complain, I could be like that Dimitrescu bitch and turn you into wine.”

You shut up immediately and grasp the back of his coat for balance. You don’t know why, but his empty threats scare you immensely. You watch the hallways blur into one another, trying to see if you can find a window, or an escape rout of some sort, hell, even a vent he couldn’t fit in but you could would work well.

He smacks your thigh. Not hard, but enough for a slight sting and to get your attention. “We’re in the center of the factory, there’s no need for you to be tracking an escape route, especially because you won’t be leaving any time soon.”

Eventually, you end up in a small office like space, with a desk, a cork board with several pictures of people on it, and a large grate that leads to a tunnel downwards. He pulls the metal chair out of the corner with his powers and places you in the chair. “Stay.”

“So…” He turns towards the cork board. “Since your out of town, I’ll explain the run-down-“

“I don’t really care for the details.” You stand up from the chair and go to walk towards him, but he crosses the room in a second and slams you back down.

“I told you to stay in that goddamn chair!” He opens his mouth to explain but a whirring noise starts out of nowhere. It’s loud, obnoxious, and coming from the vent. He opens it. “Shut your goddamn trap!”

“Anyhow, (Y/N),” he starts, “the other three lords decided that they’re interested in you, for whatever their reasons are. I’m assuming they want to kill you.”

“That’s a veeeeeery extreme assumption.” You roll your eyes, and prop your head on your hands.

“Well two of them are well know for turning people into dolls and drinking their blood,” he says casually, “it’s only a fair assumption they want to do the same with you.”

“I’m sorry they what?”

He turns to you, surprised for a moment that you don’t know what he’s talking about. “Super-sized bitch over here,” a sharp piece of metal lands on the photo of a pale, middle aged woman with bold red lipstick and a black hat, “is one of the other three lords, known for drinking the blood of girls like yourself. Wouldn’t suggest meeting her, she’s not that pleasant.”

“Known for?”

“Sort of, most of the towns people don’t know,” he turns to you and leans on the table by the cork board, “they’re too busy worshipping Mother Miranda.”

“I’ve heard her name before,” you say, “doesn’t she protect the town?”

You can sense the anger you caused before you can take it back.

“That Miranda bitch doesn’t protect anybody from shit. She’s the one causing all the issues, kidnapping people and mutating them, killing them and throwing their lives away like table scraps.” You slams his hand on the table and you visibly flinch. He quickly apologizes.

“You keep mentioning ‘the other three lords’ how many are there, and who’s the one your excluding in that statement?” You question as soon as you get the chance. He’s talking, loudly, quickly and it’s filling up the space in the room with an anxious sort of white noise.

“Pardon me,” he says, and waltzes over, almost over-dramatically. He brings your hand to his lips and places a light kiss. You can feel his stubble and chapped lips on the top of your hand. He desperately needs to use chap-stick. “I’m Heisenberg, one of the four lords, but you can call me Karl.”

“Okay… Karl.” You test the name out on your tongue. “What are you going to do with me, now that I’m here?”

He gets down on one knee in front of you, still holding your hand. “Oh (Y/N), I’m going to treat you how you deserve, like a princess.”

#resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #yandere karl heisenberg #yandere heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #yandere karl heisenberg x reader #tw: kidnapping

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diavolosthots · 3 years

Note

Can we get how the brothers would react to mc being on her or their (idk which you’d prefer) period and just being easily irritated all week?

*** REQUESTS ARE NOT OPEN THIS IS FROM LAST TIME*

I KNOW I've done this before but i cant find it so i guess I'm doing it again. Also note: I personally don't have any issues with my period, i dont get cramps, it lasts like 3 days tops, and my flow isnt heavy, so this is very generic and based on the majority of the population that is NOT like me.

Warning: mild arguments with some of the brothers, period

THE BROTHERS reacting to MC having their period

Lucifer:

Get sassy with him, he dares you. He does not care that your hormones are out of balance or that you’re bleeding Satan’s waterfall out of your body; respect is a state of mind and can be shown at any cost. Discomfort can be tamed and if you think that he won’t use every spell known to demon kind of you to get you to stop complaining about cramps, you’re wrong. They will work too and all of a sudden you have a shocked look on your face and are feeling kind of embarrassed for snapping at him, but don’t worry, he’ll just make you apologize. Lets it slide. Come to him directly next time and he’ll use that spell on you to get rid of cramps and pain, as long as you don’t get sassy again.

Mammon:

LMAO what even is the human body? One minute you were perfectly fine and then he apparently said something to piss you off? What the hell, man!? Will defend himself, of course, and get pissy with you, too, asking you why you’re onto him in the first place. If you yell “I’m on my period you twat!” Be prepared to explain, as simple as possible, what that is and how it affects you. Will most likely expect compensation for dealing with your emotional self and catering to your needs. Take him out for dinner afterward and you’re all good; dealing with hormonal people is exhausting, after all.

Leviathan:

He, sadly, knows what it is, and in all honesty, would rather hide away from you in his room during the entirety of your period. He can’t handle you crying and then yelling at him with tears in your eyes and screaming for chocolate!!! He’ll leave blankets and cookies outside your room and talk from a safe distance, but he’s too scared to mess up and make you angry by saying something that’s not right. He’s heard horror stories of people on their periods and the last thing he wants is for you to cry to him about how one potato didn’t taste the same as the other when he cooked dinner that day… he can’t handle it.

Satan:

Of course he knows what it is, and he could smell blood from miles away. At first, he tried to be understanding. He gave you what you wanted, got you what you needed, but you still ended up irritated with him, which had him irritated, and yes it did end up in a shouting match and you crying, him storming off. He’ll feel bad, after a couple of hours, and return with food and your favorite movie, but don’t think he won’t hold that grudge for the next argument you have with him. Hormones are a bitch, and he has anger issues. This is not a good mix. Don’t rely too much on him from here on out.

Asmodeus:

He’s the KingTM. Heating pads, tampons, chocolate, and him naked are all ready. He heard an orgasm is the best way to relieve cramps and he’s ready to give you plenty of those ;) Has no fear and or shame toward period blood and will go down on you/fuck you into the mattress regardless of the circumstances… as long as both of you can take a nice, relaxing bath afterwards. He most likely won’t get too irritated if you are angry with him for whatever reason, but he might sass back. A soft, “just like you.” might leave his mouth sooner or later if you stab at him with anything truly mean.

Beelzebub:

Poor boy knows like the basics of what’s going on with you and that’s it. Chances are, you started getting sassy with him out of nowhere, without telling him what was going on, and he of course ignored you, not wanting to deal with an attitude. This would probably make you angry and or cry/feel down. In both cases he’ll ask what’s wrong and if you do tell him you’re on your period, he’ll make a little ‘O’ face, and ask what you need. He’s still doing his own thing, though, so don’t expect him to drop everything and tend to your every need. He’ll pick up food from his way home from the gym, or sit down with you to laze around a bit, holding you tight, but nothing too mind-blowing

Belphegor:

Why are you mad at him now?! He’s apologized for something he isn’t even sure he did for the tenth time today, because if he didn’t, you’d cry again, or ignore him, or feel down about yourself. Why are you so emotional? He’s already given you his pillow and his cardigan and now you’re practically one with him so what more could you need?! He’s just trying to take a nap, with or without you, not try and figure out astrophysics. A loud sigh would leave him, probably upsetting you, and now he has to pull out his secret weapon of chocolate, but at least that’s sure to make you happy for a little while.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #asmodeus obey me #belphegor obey me #mammon obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #satan obey me #obey me beelzebub #cheys headcanons #tw periods

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griffintail · 3 years

Note

reader is this cottage core type girl who provides food to everyone and is kinda just neutral territory. Everyone agrees that she shouldn’t be fought and she has all three canon lives. One day she’s talking to Tommy about his discs and he was showing them to her when she gives him a suspicious stew that she says has absorption. He drinks it and it gives him the wither effect. Then Dream comes out and kills him and gives reader the discs. You can decide whether reader took them so she could have power herself or just that she didn’t want everyone to fight anymore.

Ok so, you made me cry and panic when I first read this?? Like this was so emotional to write. It’s short but emotional (I hope) I hope you enjoy.

My Side

Pairings: Dream SMP x Platonic! F! Reader

Mostly Tommy x Platonic! F! Reader

Warnings: Poisoning, Angst.

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

(Y/N)’s home was an elegantly cozy building that always had an available room for those that just wanted to get away from everything.

She never stood in a war.

She never chose a side.

She never raised a sword against anyone.

She provided shelter and happiness to everyone that stepped onto her territory. Her home was the truest holy land.

There had been a time when Sapnap had tried to get her involved in the Pet War and when she refused to help him, he had tried to burn her home to “convince her”. Sapnap never tried again when both Tommy and Dream crossed swords in front of him, joining the side that refused violence to the darling woman that lived peacefully.

It was agreed upon by everyone after that, that (Y/N)’s home and (Y/N) herself were a no war zone. She was not to be harmed and her home was to never perish. There had been many a time though that people needing a break came to her home. Wilbur had been there many a time when the L’Manberg war had been going on and during his presidency.

She always made him feel like a normal man. Not a man that had to hold up the world for everyone and keep back the opposing armies.

Tubbo always came over to talk with her and to enjoy the sweets she would make. She always laughed with him and treated him with respect.

Eret came over to her after his betrayal when his crown felt heavy. She always took a piece of weight, reminding him he still had a friend.

Dream and his team sometimes came over to remind themselves that they had more than enemies.

She always gave everyone exactly what they needed the moment they stepped onto her property.

Yet, her most frequent visitor, which would have surprised everyone if she hadn’t promised not to tell anyone for him, was Tommy Innit himself.

Tommy had been through so much and whenever he was around (Y/N), she always let him be…him. She never told him he swore too much; she never told him off for the things he said; she never said he was annoying. He could enjoy himself around her and she always made him feel validated. He actually liked to help her with her farm or the odd jobs she did around the home. It was just such a peaceful place.

He liked to say she was like a sister to him and she always said she liked to hear that with the brightest smile.

Today, Tommy was visiting once more and he had brought his discs with him today. There had been times when he brought his discs to (Y/N)’s house but even then, he was always tense that someone would break the promise made and take them from him on her land. But, while (Y/N) never raised a sword against anyone, one laid close by meaning she would if necessary and Tommy was convinced, she wouldn’t let anyone take away his property.

“Hi, Tommy.” (Y/N) gave a small smile as she stood from her flower garden.

“Hey (Y/N)! You got a lot of work today?” He asked.

“No, I’m just baking some cookies for Tubbo right now.” She wiped off her hands. “I made some lunch a little bit again and have some leftover, would you like some?”

“Sure.”

She led the way inside and Tommy was so trusting of her, he didn’t see how her hands were shaking.

“I brought my discs! I’ll get your jukebox.” He said excitedly as he went to get the device.

(Y/N) closed her eyes as she grabbed the stew before putting it on the dining table. She gave another small smile as Tommy put the machine down and put on Cat before he sat at the table.

“Thanks.” He grinned.

She almost went back on what she was about to do but she needed to do this to help Tommy. He had so many wounds, physical and mental. She couldn’t let him get any more. Even if she was the last wound he ever had.

Tommy felt strange as he ate the stew before clutching his stomach at the mild pain. Now, now he noticed (Y/N) regretful look that deepened seeing Tommy’s pain before she looked down.

“W-What—Shit.” He groaned at the pain.

Then he heard the music stop and looked over, trying to get up quickly when he saw a familiar mask holding the disc before falling over.

It was still against (Y/N)’s moral code to steal…

Dream went into his bag as Tommy tried to desperately stop the man. His heart sank into his pain-filled stomach as Dream took out his other disc.

“N-No. P-P-Please…” He pleaded trying to stand.

(Y/N) looked up with tears in her eyes as Dream held the discs to her, keeping up his end of the deal.

(Y/N) delicately took the discs and went to her ender chest. She winced as she put a hand on it before opening it putting the discs inside with a heavy heart, giving Dream his payment.

“Pleasure (Y/N). Enjoy the power.” Dream nodded, glancing at Tommy, debating on breaking the promise but walked off deciding to keep the peaceful (Y/N) pact.

Once Dream was leaving, she rushed to grab the health potion, trying to give it to Tommy but he refused her help. As he did, her tears rolled down her cheeks as she let out a sob.

“I-I’m sorry. I just co-couldn’t see you hurt anymore. Pl-Please take this Tommy.” She begged.

She tried to get him to drink it again and just to make the pain stop, he didn’t resist this time. After a moment, the pain was gone and once he had a few painless breaths, he sat up and scooted from her.

“Y-You just used me for power!” He accused her.

“N-no! Tommy, y-you’re always getting hurt. I-I lie-lied to Dream. I said I wa-wanted the power but I-I want to protect you! I hate these sides!” She shouted, putting her face in her hands. “E-Everyone looks to me for sides and answers but if-if I chose any side it-it’s to keep you safe! Th-That’s why I took them.”

Tommy had to resist the urge to go over and comfort (Y/N). She just betrayed him after all…

But…

“They’re my discs.” He muttered.

“A-And they still are.” She looked at him with a red face and red eyes. “I-I want to keep them safe for you. To stop people f-from hurting you. You’re-You’re the little brother I’ve always wanted and I can’t see you hurt anymore.”

That broke Tommy. Tears streamed down his face as he came over, hugging her. She sobbed as she hugged him back.

“P-Please don’t fight anymore Tommy.” She begged as she cried into his chest as he was so much taller than her.

“Ok. Ok.” He muttered as he hugged his sister figure tightly. “Just…ask next time alright?”

“I-I was so scared you’d say no though Tommy. An-And you’d kee-keep fighting all the wars. I-I need to keep you safe. That’s my side.”

He was angry that she did this to him, took away his prized possessions but…he couldn’t really be mad at her. She sat here, broken about what she had done and she even said that his discs were his.

She must have so much weight on her constantly thinking about things like him being hurt even though she fought no wars or battles and he had only made it worse with that with all the constant visits for a peaceful moment.

“I’m sorry. You don’t need to choose a side.” He promised her. “Thank you. Thank you for helping me.”

He didn’t want to fully understand right now but he knew she’d help him understand and when he’d calm down, he’d help her more to take all the weight of things like his safety that weighed her down.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #dreamsmp x reader #tommyinnit x reader

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kiwiwritescrap · 2 years

Text

Part 4 (Parasite Au)

*launches out of Zedaph’s cow launcher from s7* I didn’t think that would work

Anyways here’s part i-haven’t-been-keeping-track of the parasite au! Also, got the playlist for this au dropping soon. (mild blood warning) -🥝

Scar placed his hand to the thick tinted glass that separated him, Xisuma, and Zedaph from Grian, who was pacing in his cell. Zedaph was furiously writing on his clipboard.

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen…” Zedaph adjusted his goggles. “Nothing seems to calm him down.” Grian stopped pacing, turned his head, and hissed.

“Ren, Cleo, and Joe went out looking for the ocean in the poem.” Xisuma said. “They should be back soon.”

“Good.” Scar said.

“If they do find it, who’s going to go?” Xisuma asked.

“Me. And, uh, him.” Scar pointed to Grian, who was scratching the walls.

“No way, I’m not sending him with you.” Xisuma said. “Who knows what could happen?”

“I need to bring him. As soon as we get to the island and find that star, we can cure him. If he stays here he could break out and rampage again.” Scar argued.

“Well, even if he was to go with you, he can’t. I can’t get him out of this state.” Zedaph set down his clipboard. “As I said, nothing calms him down.” A through crossed Scar’s mind.

“What if I went in there?” He asked.

“Are you mental?” Xisuma said. “He’ll tear you apart, Scar.”

“I’m aware of the risk. We have to try though. I’ve done it before, I can do it now.” Scar walked to the iron door of the containment cell.

“Fine.” X sighed. “Be careful.”

“I will.” Scar said as the iron door clicked open and he entered the room. It was made of strong quartz, with a sea lantern in the ceiling lighting the space up. “Hey, Grian…” Scar said hesitantly, approaching the beast before him. Grian growled, his eyes locking onto Scar. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just need you to calm down, buddy.”

“No.” He hissed. Scar took a few steps closer. Grian slashed his claws warningly.

“Don’t get to close, Scar.” Xisuma’s voice crackled over an intercom.

“I know what I’m doing.” Scar shouted. That was a lie. He had no clue what to do. Scar inched closer, and Grian ruffled his wings, angered. “Please, I need you to calm down. I’m here to help you.”

“Scar?” Grian’s eyes flashed back to brown, his voice clearing of the dark layer. For a moment, Scar was relieved, until his friend shrieked in pain, grabbing the wall with one claw and his head with another. Scar took a step back, then pressed forward, determined.

“Stay back!” Grian shouted, swinging a claw, which tore the base of Scar’s robe.

“Shhh… calm down.” Scar whispered. “It’s okay.”

“I don’t want to hurt you again!” Grian’s voice this time. It was as if he was of two minds now, each fighting for control.

“You didn’t hurt me!” Scar raised his voice.

“No, no!” The parasitic voice hissed.

“Get out!” Grian shouted. Scar couldn’t tell if he was talking to him or the parasite. “I’m not going to hurt him, it was different then, I didn’t want to!” This time Scar was certain that Grian was talking to the parasite. What as he going on about?

“You meant to. You wanted to win. You wanted power.” It was then that Scar realized what he was talking about. A rush of memories came to Scar. A ring of cacti, the desert sand, Grian closing his eyes and swinging his fist, falling onto the sand, and his vision fading.

“Is this about 3rd life?” Scar asked.

“I’m sorry!” Grian shouted to Scar. “I never wanted to, I never meant to hurt you, I- I just…”

“I forgive you.” Scar said. “I never held it against you. We won together.”

“All this time…” Grian gasped. “You were never mad at me?”

“Not once.” Scar shook his head. Grian leaned against the wall. His wings faded to brown again, his hands returned to normal. He stumbled forward, and Scar rushed forward to catch him, and hugged him tightly. “It’s okay now.”

“I’m so sorry, I just… I, I didn’t…” Grian stammered.

“There was no reason for you to be sorry.” Scar said.

“If I had listen to you, and stayed away from the Entity like you said, we never would have been in this mess in the first place!” He argued.

“I know, but we’re stuck now and we’re going to find a way out.” Scar said, resting his hand on his friend’s shaking shoulder. Grian simply nodded, smiling weakly.

“Scar, Ren and the others are back.” Codina said over the speaker.

“I’ll be right back.” Scar rushed out of the cell, meeting Ren, X, and Zedaph. “What did you find?”

“We found what you said we would. Kind of. There’s definitely an ocean there, but it’s covered in this thick, black fog.” Ren explained. “We tried flying, but it’s too dense to see anything. We think you’ll have to travel by boat.”

“That couldn’t go wrong in any way possible.” Xisuma said sarcastically.

“Are we clear to go?” Scar asked.

“Tomorrow. It would be best to keep Grian in containment for another night to make sure he’s stable.” Zedaph said.

“I understand.” Scar said. “I’ll go talk to him.” He reentered the cell. “Grian, Ren said that we were right, there’s an ocean. We’re going to travel to the island tomorrow, but we’ll going to have to go by boat, he said there’s fog covering the whole sea.”

“Alright.” Grian nodded. “Can I go home now?”

“Zed said that it would be best for you to stay here, just to make sure you’re stable.” Scar explained. Grian sighed.

“Can you stay with me?” He asked.

“I’ll check.” Scar turned and left yet again. “He wants me to stay.”

“I don’t think that would be safe.” Xisuma said skeptically.

“Hold on, I’ve got it!” Zedaph pressed a button on the control panel. A glass divider rose in the center of the cell. “There. It’s reinforced, so even if he loses control, you’ll be safe.”

“I doubt it’ll be needed, but okay.” Scar shrugged. He walked back into the cell and walked to the glass.

“What’s this for?” Grian’s voice was muffled slightly by the glass barrier.

“Safety precaution.” Scar knocked on the glass. “X insisted.” Grian rolled his eyes. “It is late. You’ve had a long day.”

“I suppose so.” Grian sat down on the floor. From the ceiling, an few pillows dropped down. Zedaph gave a thumbs up from outside. Scar pressed his hand to the glass separating him from his friend. Grian placed his hand on the other side and smiled.

“We’re going to make it through this.” Scar said.

“This ends tomorrow.” He said confidently.

“Let’s hope.” Scar closed his eyes, leaning against the glass, the promise of freeing his friend to come with the next day.

#desert duo #grian #gtws hermitcraft #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanfic #hermitcraft season nine #parasite hc au

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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

Text

Cold Shoulder

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this nor do I own anything recognizable. Also, I edited after a glass of wine. So. I think I shall blame any mistakes on that.

Word count: 2317

Warnings: Mild descriptions of violence

Request: Aragorn x Reader where he protects the reader but she is mad at him because of that and gives him a silent shoulder. Much fluff please (Anon)

A/n Anon, thank you for the request!! I enjoyed writing this and love me some Aragorn content <3 Also, for context, I placed the reader in the Fellowship. Okay, read on!

The sharp cry pierces the peace of the early morning.

“Orcs!”

Legolas, who had been standing watch and discovered the threat, immediately begins firing arrows, keeping the pack at bay. The rest of us spring into action, drawing weapons and shouldering our bags, looking to Aragorn to determine our next move. Despite the jolt of fear that runs through me, I know that luck is on our side. For one, our group had planned to set out shortly, meaning our camp is packed and we run no risk of leaving anything behind. Second, it was Legolas on watch, and his keen eyesight gave us critical early warning.

I feel a rough hand wrap around mine, and I’m yanked into a sprint. I nearly stumble at the speed Aragorn sets, but force myself to keep pace. A quick look at my surroundings tells me why we’re running — our camp is secluded, but there are too many high spots around us for it to be favorable in a fight. I can assume that we are making for higher or more open ground, so that we will not be at a disadvantage when the orc pack inevitably catches us.

There’s a muffled yelp, and I whip my head around to see Frodo tripping and falling roughly to the ground.

“Aragorn—” His name has barely left my lips when I feel his hands on my back, spurring me on, and he leaves my side, running back to aid our hobbit friend. Closer than I would like, the wails of the orc grow louder, and, at my right, Boromir speeds up, hauling Merry along with him.

The three of us break through the tree-line first, and immediately, an arrow whizzes above my head.

Damn it, they cut us off!

I don’t have much time to dwell on how the monsters got around us unnoticed, because a tall, imposing orc lunges in my direction. I raise my dagger and put all my focus into not letting the orc’s razor-sharp sword pierce my skin.

The shrieks and grunts of battle, as well as the shrill clanking of metal hitting metal fill the air. The orc jabs his sword at me, and I jump to my left. As the orc takes another swing, an arrow soars mere millimeters from my ear and imbeds itself in my attacker’s eye. I don’t even have time to shoot Legolas a thankful glance, because another beast catches my arm and pulls me against his foul-smelling side. I swipe at his arm with my dagger, and with a howl of pain, he throws me to the ground, raising his sword. I roll to the side, narrowly dodging the slice of steel, and push myself back to my feet. The orc is distracted, struggling with his weapon which is embedded in the ground, leaving the side of his neck exposed. I lift my dagger, and step forward, intent on ending this fight—

An arm grips my waist and pulls me back, moving me out of the way and slaying the orc.

I gawk at Aragorn, who, with the focused eyes of battle, rips his sword free of the orc’s neck and spins, killing a beast to his right.

“I had it,” I shout over the noise, unable to contain my frustration.

Aragorn straightens to face me, eyes wide. “Your back!”

Immediately, I turn on my heel and raise my dagger, pushing against the knife meant to impale my unguarded back. The orc is stronger than me, but if I can hold him off for just a few seconds more, I can reach for my other dagger and stab him in the stomach. As my hand twitches towards my belt, a sword passes around my side, impaling the orc with a sickening squelch.

Once again, I fix Aragorn with disbelieving eyes.

What was the point of investing all that time training me if I don’t get to use any of said training?!

The sounds of battle begin to fade, and, with a final swing of Gimili’s axe, the fighting is done.

We take stock of our injuries which are, thankfully, minor, and pull the dead orc deep into the tree line, not wanting to draw attention to our path. After the quickest of rests and a wash-up in the stream, we continue, Aragorn insisting that we cannot take any unnecessary delays now that we have orc interested in us.

We begin our trek, mostly in tired silence.

At the front of the group, Aragorn and Legolas do a mixture of scouting and chatting, seeming more relaxed the farther we get from the site of the attack. Aragorn doesn’t usually walk with me, preferring instead to lead with Legolas and keep an eye out for danger. Usually, I wish he would stay by my side, but today, I am grateful for the distance, as I’m not feeling too kindly towards him at the moment. I can’t stop myself from glaring at his back, resenting him taking away my right to handle myself in battle. But after an hour of lonely overthinking, resentment gives way to insecurity. What if he only jumped in because he thinks I’m weak? He’s probably not the only one…compared to everyone else, what advantages do I have? They probably all, to some extent, see me as a burden.

Gimli jogs up next to me, fixing me with a mildly concerned look.

“You alright, lassie? Not hurt, are ya?”

Aragorn’s head tilts in our direction. He’s listening.

Unable to contain my annoyance at his continued monitoring, I huff. “I’m fine, Gimli, thanks. Just tired.”

Gimli looks at the ground, seemingly unable to reconcile my usual friendliness with this foul mood. “Aye, well, t’is to be expected, after the morning we had. You fought well.”

I cross my arms, cocking my head to the side. “Did I? Because, as I remember it, I was barely allowed to fight at all.”

At this, I hear light sniggering behind me, and whip my head around to see a quickly composed Merry and Pippin looking anywhere but me.

Gimli makes a sighing, almost grumbling noise, and walks off to join his friends at the front of the group. Aragorn hangs back a little, waiting for me to catch up before resuming a slower pace.

“What troubles you?”

Getting right to the chase, then.

I huff angrily, my annoyance from this morning only growing now that I’ve had hours to stew about it. Because really, I am well-trained, I am capable, and he had no business neglecting his own safety to help me when I wasn’t in any actual danger. I had it all under control! And rather than feeling like a warrior equal with my companions, I feel like a girl who just slows them down and needs babysitting.

Aragorn stops walking and grips my elbow lightly, pulling me to stop with him. “I cannot help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

I glare at him. Can I handle nothing on my own?! “Well, maybe I don’t want your help, Aragorn.”

He sighs, sounding frustrated, but lets me go.

Neither of us makes an attempt to talk to the other for the remainder of our hike.

{***}

We stop when it is well and properly dark, making hasty camp. I drop my bedroll and begin preparing for the night, cleaning my dagger and shoes as best I can. The others sit on rocks near the fire, eyeing me warily.

Pippin elbows Merry and hisses in a low voice,“go and talk to her, something’s obviously wrong with her.”

Merry’s eyes grow comically wide, and he fixes his friend with an indignant expression. “Why does it have to be me, then?! I don’t want to get yelled at.”

“Because I checked on Frodo last Thursday when he was in a mood, and now it’s your turn.”

“I didn’t realize we were taking turns,” Merry whisper-shouts, oblivious to the fact that everyone can hear their argument just fine.

Sam fixes them with a pleading look before glancing over to me. “Miss Y/n, do you not want supper?” He hesitantly holds a bowl in my general direction.

“No, thank you,” I respond, cooler than intended. He blinks at me for a moment, and then hands the bowl to an amused Boromir.

I feel the weight of everyone’s questioning stares, hear their hushed whispers, and cannot take it one moment longer.

“I’m going to get more firewood,” I declare, tucking my dagger back into my belt and trudging deeper into the forest.

The woods are dark, but there is sufficient light from the moon, and I pick my way through the trees, looking for fallen logs and branches. I don’t stray to where I can no longer hear the voices of my friends, though — I may be angry, but I’m not stupid.

Less than two minutes later, the sound of light footsteps creeps into my hearing.

Aragorn walks to my side, bending to grasp and examine a log that might make for good firewood. He doesn’t look at me when he speaks. “Sam put aside some soup for you, though I would not delay if you wish to eat it. I saw Pippin eyeing it with interest.”

When I don’t laugh or give any indication that I heard him, he shifts on his feet, unsure. “I feel tension between us. I’ve upset you?”

I make a noncommittal noise and go a few yards deeper in the forest.

“Y/n?”

With a resigned sigh, I turn to face him, knowing that my silence is hurting him. “It’s stupid.”

Obviously pleased that I’m speaking to him now, Aragorn takes quick steps towards me, wearing an open expression. “If I have done something to hurt you, you have every right to be upset.”

I resist the urge to groan. Stop being so good and noble, it makes it hard to stay mad at you. I reign in my frustrations and sigh, forcing myself to look him in the eyes. “I feel like the weakest link. I’m the youngest, the only woman, I don’t possess any special abilities or extensive battle experience. I put a lot of work into being competent with my daggers, and still there are days when I question my right to be here with you all. So when you jump in to protect me, well-intentioned as you may be, I feel like a child that needs looking after rather than someone capable of standing her own ground.”

His face falls, and discomfort spreads in my stomach. But before I can apologize and take back my words, he offers his hands, and I take them gratefully.

“I did not consider how my actions would make you feel, though I understand now. Forgive me, Y/n?”

At his heartfelt words, my anger ebbs away. I use my grip on his hands to pull him closer and rest my forehead against his chest. “Of course.”

He pulls back slightly to bring my hands to his lips, pressing kisses on my knuckles. “I intervened during the fight not because I think you incapable, but because I wanted to keep you as much removed from the danger as possible. You are precious to me, Y/n. I won’t risk losing you.”

At this, he leans his forehead against mine, and I can’t help how I soften at his words. I didn’t think about it like that. “There is the slightest possibility that I may have accidentally overreacted a little.”

Aragorn rewards me with a deep chuckle, one I can feel vibrating through his chest, and shakes his head against mine. “Are you sure, my love? I think ignoring me all day was a completely proportionate response.”

I roll my eyes at the dripping sarcasm in his voice and raise a hand to smack his chest. Before I can get anywhere near him, his own hand shoots out and grabs my wrist — an act that has me grumbling in irritation and him shaking with laughter. Once he regains composure, he brings my wrist to his lips and places the softest of kisses there, watching my face carefully for my reaction.

I look away, trying to distract myself from the fluttering in my stomach. He trails a line of kisses up my forearm, and I scramble for something to say before my brain gets scattered beyond help. “For the record, you mean the world to me and I would defend you in battle too, if the need were to arise.”

His lips pause against my skin. I turn my head back to him to see that he’s, much to my annoyance, trying to fight a smile. Unable to school his smirk, he raises his head, still holding my hand in his. “I thank you, dearest, but I hardly believe that will be necessary. I’ve been battling for decades, I can handle a few stray orc.”

I step back out of his embrace, crossing my arms and regarding him with raised eyebrows.

He realizes his mistake.

“Oh—um, I meant, I—”

I shake my head. “No, you know what? Not ‘should the need arise’, I’ll just do it anyway! Next fight, you better watch out buddy, I’m throwing myself in front of anything that comes at you!”

His eyes blow open and his voice takes on a strangled quality. “Y/n, please don’t, that’s just unnecessary—”

“Nope!” I stomp away from him, picking up branches at random. “You brought this upon yourself. Get ready to be defended!”

Before walking back to camp, I turn to give him a sickeningly sweet smile. “I love you.”

Aragorn dramatically drops his head into his hands. “I shall die from stress.”

Our companions, who obviously heard our argument, roar with laughter.

A/n Thank you for reading! If you have a moment, I’d love it if you could check out my masterlist! Thank you :)

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xo-cuteplosion-xo · 3 years

Text

Asorted ADA x Reader | The "happy" friend

BSD misc. Reader insert

Warnings- mentions of suicidal thoughts. Mentions of Verbal and mild physical abuse.

The happy co-worker, happy friend, happy ex, happy girlfriend. No matter what you pushed it on to yourself. So many of your peers had it worse. Look at Dazai, he manages to smile and joke despite his pain. You thought you could do it too. So, that’s what you did. Since you joined the agency. You never let them see you break down. They never got to see you cry. They never got to see you under anything but happy. Even if you were annoyed, you held onto your smile. There were so many orphans among your mighty crew of detectives. The ones you were the closest to, you confirmed them to be orphans from a young age. Dazai, parentless at 14. He may have been an orphan for even longer than that. You just know he didn’t have any at 14. Then there was Atsushi, who had lived his whole childhood abused in an orphanage. Kyoka, she lost her parents to her ability. The others you were not too sure about, but the sneaking suspicion this organization was full of gifted orphans, was high.

Then there was you. A girl, no older than Dazai. Not the best looking, at least that’s what you told yourself. The others had no idea about your insecurities regarding your body. Maybe you were too tall, too short, too thin, too fat. Some days were better than others. Some days the situation flipped. There was always something you could nit-pick about yourself. Your mind wandered constantly back to the words of your parents. “Not skinny enough, too skinny. Not fit enough, but don’t be too fit. Men don’t like to be threatened.” you had parents. Maybe they weren't the best but you had parents. They were a bit abusive with words but never had they placed a finger on you. Well, there were a few times but it was normal right? For a parent to lose their cool and lash out once or twice, maybe even a handful of times over the years. They judged you for your choice of occupation and the people you hung around. They called you out on outfits and the way you acted. That’s why you were here now. Far from them, but their words still haunted you. In truth, you feared them but wanted their approval.

Today, you stood with your coworkers finishing up the latest job. You hummed in your outfit. It covered your arms, which you already bandaged but wanted to keep that a secret. The things you did to keep this false joy were extreme. The things you took in impacted your state. Listening to Atsushi, holding Kyoka when she broke down. Hell, you were even there to scold Dazai and occasionally listen to his drunk words. The tales of how much he had suffered broke you. Even Kunikida learned to confide in you. He would tell you about his stress, and the pain he felt about past mistakes that resulted in his ideals being missed or broken. There was nobody in the agency who didn’t trust you with their problems. To them, you had none. They were okay with talking to you. They felt better after talking to you. That’s how it worked.

Biting the inside of your cheek, your feet moved to Kunikida. You knew he’d want to talk about this one. He hated seeing people killed before his eyes. He’d already nearly beaten Dazai for letting the boy die. Atsushi was off in the corner, fidgeting around with the tight atmosphere. You had arrived a little too late to prevent the death of the kidnapped child. Things like this happened, mistakes were bound to happen but… they had larger effects on some than they did on others. Dazai was facing the wall, his hands in fists. His head against the wall. You could tell he was blaming himself. Atsushi just felt awkward being here. “Kunikida?” you whispered trying to keep a joyful yet soft tone to your voice. Your hand reached out to tap his shoulder only for him to slap it away with a heavy glare.

“How can you smile like that? Somebody died in front of us and all you do is smile! You're always smiling no matter what happens! Do you even understand what’s going on right now? We failed (Y/n). Do you need somebody to explain to you what you should be doing right now?” his voice kept raising pitch by pitch. It sent flashes along your eyes. The way your father's voice would start soft and gradually get louder by the second, until he slammed a fist against the wall and screamed at you. Those yells always ended in the verbal assault. The comments on your form, the comments on your social life, and the useless degrees and jobs you had.

The wince you suppressed went unnoticed. The shaking of your hands is easily hidden behind you. Hands clasped together as your eyes trailed Kunikida. His body stood towering over you. Heavily glaring as he turned away. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” you tilted your head to play this off with a smile.

It was no help to your situation. He pushed past you, heading for the building exit he froze in the doorway. “We have to go tell a parent we failed to save a child's life. Do you understand how hard that is for a parent? How could I be alright? How can any of us be alright?” he was one step from overfilling your glass. The cracks forming were starting to show. Your eyes unable to meet his eyes. “You can be heartless and an idiot at times. Smiling in the presence of death.” there it was, the same words you had gotten at your grandmother's funeral. You’d tried to stay strong for your mother. You only knew how to smile. You knew no other way of staying strong. Hearing it from a friend sent you into overdrive.

“Shut up.” you hissed through clenched teeth.

This time Atsushi seemed to join in. shocked by your sudden negativity. He had never seen you like this. None of them had ever seen you drop a smile. “Are you mad?” Atsushi asked before you shook it off and smiled.

“Huh? Of course not! I'm just as normal as ever! I don’t know what you mean? Did I seem mad? Sorry, guess I just let that slip. I meant to say you shouldn’t assume I'm heartless, just cause I'm still… happy! I feel the pain you guys feel over this! I just think we should move over this!” giving a closed smile, Kunikida's raised voice washed over the room again.

“Move past?! We could have saved them if we had been a bit faster in getting here! The kid wasn’t supposed to die! Stop smiling and grasp the situation! Stop being insensitive to your acting just like Dazai does sometimes!” Were you that bad? Was it really that bad to just want to stay happy? “You have everything perfect, you can’t even grasp the situation!” you couldn’t do this anymore. His words were starting to turn from accusations to frustration. He was taking his pain out on you. Instead of doing it in the kind form he normally used, he was using anger to express how hurt he was right now.

Unable to take any more of the words he spat, you dropped it all. His words were getting on the triggering side. The words he spat slowly started to inch closer and closer to your parents' words. Words that made you have to act like this. “I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered trying to keep your tears locked inside. It was useless though. The container shattered as his words brushed by your ears. Faded and fuzzy, the world drifted away. You were pulled back into the world by a brunette. His slender hands shaking your shoulders. You shoved him away glaring.

“Woah, she’s pissed,” Atsushi whispered before you shook your head looking at the ceiling, you smiled.

“No Atsushi, I'm sad, for lack of a better word. I want to walk up the stairs of a very tall building and dive into nothingness. I want to lay down with a bottle of whiskey and drink myself into sweet relief. I want to look in the mirror and like the way I look. I want to walk to my parents with the courage to tell them I'm perfect no matter what I look like. I want to tell them that what I do for a living makes me strong. I want to have the strength to shout and tell them I don't need a man to dictate my life. I want to scream at them that the only man I want is a man who isn’t afraid of a fierce, strong, and independent woman.” the words fell from your lips as your tears fell. They fell through your smile. The happy look stuck to your face.

“(y/n)...” Kunikida started before you chuckled, closing his sentence off.

“Aren't I just perfect? I hate my body, I hate my personality. I hate everything about myself. I hate my gift, nobody would like the real me. Nobody knows the real me. Hell, I don't even know the real me. I am nothing without my smile. But… it's okay as long as I can keep smiling! I can just fake it until it's real. I fooled all of you, didn’t I? I really seemed happy! Even I was starting to think I was! But then, I get home, look in the mirror, and all I can see is a useless shell.” your voice stopped before you were wrapped in bandaged arms. Those arms ran over your back to pull at your arms. Concerned hazel brushing skilled tender fingers under the cloth of your sleeves. Those fingers dancing over the white cloth. His hair falling over his now darkened eyes.

“You too…” he whispered just as you yanked away your arms and held them, still keeping a smile.

Of course, he had to lift your spirits just a bit. So, as you looked away unable to meet his gaze, he got to one knee and pulled your hand to him with a smirk. Kunikida facepalmed realizing the words the brunette would spout next. “Dazai, this was a crime scene. Are you seriously going to… I'm going to kill you!” he shouted stomping over to you two.

Dazai’s eyes met yours as he put his playful smile on. “Would you commit a double suicide with me~?” he hummed before being shoved into a wall. “Kunikidaaaaa! Why would you do something so cruel?!” he dramatically put a hand over his chest and his other hand on his forehead. Kunikida clicked his tongue, turning to you. His eyes reflected only guilt, as if your outburst had been all his fault. Even if you had been dying to talk to somebody about the crumbling emotions for months.

“I’ll think about it, Dazai-san!” you playfully responded to his request. For a moment you truly did feel a flutter of joy.

“I swear if you start doing his habits, I will add to your paperwork!” the worst kind of threat. A threat that made both you and Dazai cringe but chuckle.

“We should get going.” you hummed looking up to the ceiling again. “We do have a family to comfort.” Everybody fell serious and nodded.

#bsd x reader #armed detective agency #x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #fluffy angst

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