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#broken spine tw
hylianengineer · 7 months
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I have figured out how to request my medical records and I am making myself a nuisance to BOTH of the hospitals in my hometown, because I know they both have some of my records floating around somewhere and I have this weird desire to see radiology images of my bones and organs. Being an anthropology student has given me an unnatural desire to look at my own skeleton.
Unfortunately, the hospital that probably has most of the xrays also has the least user friendly records system, so we'll see if they even get back to me to tell me if I'm using it correctly. Also no one will tell me how long a records request is supposed to take.
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songstress-warriors · 4 months
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Call me Brokentail the way my tail is broken
(I just found out I have an unnatural coccyx)
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mxddyhero · 1 year
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my Good bitches, I am so Tired
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loveofastarvingdog · 2 years
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i guess i’ll be getting another tattoo maybe pain will make me stop thinking of you ohhhhhhhhh and i’m lyin here naked in all of my clothes it’s the things i say that keep me exposed with all of these worries playing tag in my brain i swear this mind of mine it’s own ball and chain ahhhhhhhh
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upsidedownwithsteve · 25 days
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader x Eddie Munson [2K]
18+ TW: somnophilia
It was his lips on your bare shoulder that woke you.
An open mouthed kiss and the tickle of his curls on your skin as you shifted, the sheets crumpled under your naked frame as you lay on your stomach. You woke up a little more, blinking into the navy darkness, sleep making your eyes blurry.
The bedroom was a mess, kicked pillows and shoved aside blankets creating grey lumps in the dark, the barely there glow of the street lights that shone through the blinds telling you it was definitely not near morning. Everything still smelled like sex and cologne, a heady mix with your perfume underneath it all and you weren’t sure where your clothes were for the life of you.
It was cosy nonetheless, window just cracked to let some of the summer air inside, a faint breeze that only really added to the warmth. A bubble of still air and bare skin, very touch heightened from how sensitive you’d already been made to feel that night.
You made a soft sound into your pillow, fingers curling into the sheets as someone - Eddie - knelt between your spread legs. He was running a hand across your ass, pushing and squeezing at the plush skin, humming happily when he realised you were stirring. His cock was hard, already nudging at your entrance and you knew from the way you throbbed that he’d been touching you for a while.
“Eddie,” you whined in a pretty, raspy voice that made his cock jump. You were still hoarse from earlier, when you’d cried into your pillow, biting down on the feathers as you were pounded from behind. “S’good.”
The boy leaned in again, soothing you with kisses up and down your spine, his cock sliding in easily as he nudged forward. You whined as he filled you up, your cunt still slick and warm from before. You felt boneless, body laid bare for him to play with but he just growled as you clenched around him, happy to feel your heat.
“Always good for me, sweetheart,” he praised and his voice was as broken as yours. He sounded dirty, grunting every time you pulsed around his cock, his palms grabbing handfuls of your ass to keep you from wriggling away. “Jus’ stay like that, yeah?” He whispered. “Gonna make you feel real nice, baby.”
You nodded, pouting even though he couldn’t see. But you almost cried out into the dark room when you felt the Eddie spread your ass cheeks, a thin line of spit hitting your hole. You could practically sense his grin when you jumped a little at the feel of his thumb, not doing much else but putting pressure on you, getting you wet enough to want more.
You squealed, the noise muffled by your pillow and Eddie snickered, leaning down with his hands on either side of your head. It pushed him deeper into your pussy, your legs spreading on instinct to give him more room. His hips were flush against the swell of your ass when Eddie ducked his head down, nose at your cheek and his voice was downright sinful when he whispered.
“You gonna wake him up, hmm?” A kiss, just below your ear. “You know he loves it when you put on a show for him. Go on, be a good girl, yeah?”
So you reached out, breath already hitching as your hand travelled across the bed, seeking out the warmth beneath the sheets. You found an arm, strong and curled partially under a pillow, a broad back with lean muscles, tanned skin freckled and bed warm. You tugged on the hand that had been used to keep you pinned to the bed early as the owner ate you out, whimpering softly as Eddie started his slow, lazy thrusts again.
“Steve,” you murmured.
Nothing.
“Gotta be a bit louder, sweetheart,” Eddie coaxed. “You know he sleeps like the dead.” He gave your ass a swift tap, grinning at the squeak you made. “Especially when you sucked his cock like you did.”
The reminder made your eyes roll, your lips still puffy and swollen from both of the boy’s kisses and the way you insisted on letting Steve’s cock nudge at the back of your throat for almost too long. So you reached out again, pulling at Steve’s fingers until you could bring them to your lips, already half gone on Eddie’s cock as you let your tongue peel out to touch the tips of them, Steve stirring as you whined his name again.
He appeared from the sheets, legs tangled with them and hair mussed, a pillow crease along on freckled cheek and he blinked at you in the dim light. Steve could just make out Eddie kneeling behind you, leaning back on his ankles as he spread your legs with his hands, keeping your stomach pressed to the bed as he let the head of his cock push in and out of your folds. His eyes found yours, bright and glassy in the glow of the light from the window and realisation hit him at the same time his cock twitched.
“Shit,” he groaned, sleep making his voice thick and rough. He sounded good, so sweet, his movements slow as he shuffled towards you, the smell of his shampoo and aftershave surrounding your sense as he leaned in. “Shit, baby, you guys goin’ again, huh?”
“Couldn’t resist her,” Eddie grunted, the slick sounds of your pussy hugging his cock filling the spaces between his words. “You know what she’s like when she’s sleepin’.”
Steve smiled, sleep warm and still soft, brushing the bridge of his nose against yours as he took his hand from your lips to your jaw. His forehead rested against your own and your eyes fluttered shut, completely surrendering to both men.
“Yeah?” He sounded more awake now but he whispered still, his thumb smoothing underneath your ear. He was so warm, too easy to squirm closer to and Eddie tutted as you tried to wriggle away. “All spread out for him, honey? Putting yourself on show for Eddie, huh?”
You probably had been, unconsciously or not. Still naked and slick from how they’d left you, bites and bruises on your bare skin, bone tired and one leg hitched up to show off every part of you. Playing with each other until you woke was something that had been long discussed, a secret fantasy of yours that you’d finally indulged after three years of being together and two bottles of wine.
“Ass like a fuckin’ peach,” Eddie agreed, his voice breathier now that he was sinking his cock deeper into you. He gave your behind a soft snack, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as the fat jiggled, your cunt clenching around him. “She wants to give you a show, Steve.”
Steve grinned, nudging at your chin until you resurfaced from his neck and he could give you a kiss. He kept it soft and light - too light. Tiny little pecks that had you screwing up your features in protest, one hand fisting at his hair. “Yeah, honey? S’that right?”
You nodded, still gasping against his lips as Eddie rolled his hips into yours. You could feel him nudging deep inside of you, his cock hitting that spot over and over again, a dirty grind more than anything else. You really wanted Steve to kiss you.
“You’re so sweet,” Steve cooed and he was still being so soft, so quiet, his hands tracing down between your breasts, fingers trailing over the dip in your spine. “You wanted me to see how pretty you look when you take Eddie’s cock?”
His words did just as much to Eddie as they did you, Eddie growling under his breath as he raised your hips up, letting the front of your thighs rest on top of his, your cheek pressed flat to the mattress now. He kept up the tiny thrusts of his hips, his cock fully seated inside of you. But now, there was space underneath of your frame, a gap between you and the bed that allowed Steve to snake his hand into.
His fingers found your clit, your folds soaked. You watched his lips make a small ‘o’, surprise and delight in his gaze. “Shit, honey, you’re all worked up.”
You couldn’t say much, just small, gasping “uh, uh, uh’s” falling from your mouth as Eddie fucked you through it. He leaned over your to smooth a hand up your spine, pressing his palm between your shoulder blades as his pace picked up just slightly. Steve matched it, pinching at your clit between rubbing small circles and he finally, finally leaned in to kiss you.
It was slow and lazy like the night had been, like your boy’s were treating you. A languid thing that made your yous curl and your breath hitch, his tongue licking over yours in a filthy, filthy way. He bit at your lip when he pulled away, rubbing your clit a little harder when he saw your eyes screw shut.
“She’s gonna come,” he told Eddie, his own cock pressed hard into your hip. “Oh, oh baby, you’re gonna come real hard, aren’t you?”
You nodded, pulling him closer by the nape of the neck as Eddie leaned back down to blanket himself over you, his hips pressed to your ass as he groaned at the feel of you getting even tighter, his cock twitching in anticipation.
“Please,” you whispered, the plea slurred and muffled as you pressed your face to Steve’s cheek, the need for closeness overwhelming.
“I know,” Steve cooed. “We’ve got you, Eddie’s gonna make you come real fuckin’ good, honey.”
Eddie’s hand curled around the back of your neck then, gentle but firm as he brought you out of hiding, his thumb soothing down the front of your throat. He made you look at Steve as he fucked you, your lips parted, your eyes glassy.
“That’s it, sweetheart, fuck,” Eddie grunted, “lookit Steve, yeah?”
Steve nodded, his free hand that wasn’t teasing your clit joining Eddie’s, wrapping around your throat until his fingers overlapped the other man’s. “Let me see you come, show me what you woke me up for.”
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mamayan · 6 months
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oof your writing is so good 🙈 if your requests are open, would you be willing to write smth for dabi with a nervous virgin reader? Maybe some fingering and petting, lots of praise and encouragement if you're okay with that!! I also wouldn't mind if theres a little dubcon scattered in there for flavour😳 Thank you!🙏
Fuck it’s his favorite— absolutely I will Nonnie♥️ Dabi is nothing if not the perfect gentlemen… sorta. Am I gonna get sued for changing his words in this manga panel? I got carried away with this lol
Yandere Dabi x Virgin! Darling
tw: NSFW • Fem! Darling • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Implied Mental/Emotional/Physical Abuse • Dubcon • Praise • Virgin! Darling • BDSM • Fingering • Oral • Sex (M)(F) • Denial/Edging • Overstimulation • Dacryphilia • Unprotected Sex • Creampie
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The front door slammed loud enough to reverberate around the apartment.
You sat facing the small tv, the screen playing some sort of cartoon with the volume on low, unmoving even as the thuds of his boots against vinyl faux wood flooring became louder. You were curled around your legs, pulled to your chest as your bare feet seemed to absorb the cold around you, icy skin keeping you grounded. Only a thin ratty oversized t-shirt and tiny shorts covering your body, despite the broken thermostat keeping the apartment at almost freezing temperatures.
Dark combat boots entered your field of vision, you numbly let your eyes flick up to take him in. He smelled like cigarette smoke and whiskey, the burning scent making acid bubble up in your stomach to your throat, but you meekly swallowed it down and gave a wobbly smile. “W-welcome home…” it was said with all the enthusiasm of a man walking towards his execution.
He crouches down to face you better, forearms resting on his knees as he levels you with a… soft look.
It has chills shooting down your spine, your stomach rolling and clenching while your chest heaves with anxiety. He’s not a soft man. He’s never been soft, not really, only in strange sporadic moments does he gently do anything to you, but it’s always followed by something sinister. Always.
“Hey pet, you cold?” He’s sadistic and cruel even on a good day. His words immediately making your eyes burn as you try to stop the impending tears. You’re always cold, left freezing locked up until his return, your only source of comfort and warmth him. It was a nasty play, logically you knew it, but logic was what got you hurt so you nodded despite the itch in your heart begging you to hold out a little longer. “M’cold…” you assent, unable to see the defeated dull look in your own eyes, but he could.
“C’mere then,” his smile is so sweet, his staples hardly pulling and his usually vibrant eyes more subdued and gentle. You wanted him to stop whatever game he’s playing now. Whatever sick trick he’s got hidden to make your walls crumble around you. His arms spread open, his knees hitting the floor so he could straighten his spine, and his embrace looking so warm.
Like selling your soul to the devil, you caved. Pathetically nearly falling as you all but threw yourself into him.
The fire wielding psychopath was a lot of things, and sadly running warmer than a normal person was one of them. Just being close to him was like sitting near a furnace, heat radiating off him in waves it seemed. You had all the time in the world to hate yourself when he inevitably left you again to nearly freeze, for now you focused on getting feeling back into your limbs as you pressed yourself as close as possible.
His chuckle is breathy as he wraps you up easily, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on his ass now, your thighs on either side of his to let you be as physically close as possible. Well, almost as physically close as possible, because when you were so desperate for his touch like this, it’s hard not to think about you begging for him to really warm you up.
“Better?” He doesn’t really need to ask, not when you’re fighting to keep your hands from digging under his shirt and getting more body heat from him. Your little sigh of contentment adorable, and while his day was mundane, he did get to release most of his pent up frustration on some lowlife pieces of shit. He was in a good mood, but he’d be in a better one soon.
“Hn” your little affirmation quiet as you rested your cheek against the exposed skin of his collarbone, breathing him in and relaxing as your stiff muscles and joints soaked his warmth up greedily. You didn’t even fight when his hands began to smooth over your skin, up your calves and thighs to your ass where he gave a little squeeze. You put up no resistance, no screaming or fighting tonight it seemed. “You still cold?” His lips are right are by your ear, warm breath blowing over it and sending a shiver of something… different down to your stomach. The stale cigarette scent wasn’t as bothersome to you when he wasn’t being mean it seemed.
You let him pet and stroke your skin, warming you up gradually and shifting you both around until your core was against his stomach and he was flat on his back. He even lifted up his shirt and your own a bit to give more contact, the staples across his chest smoother than you’d initially thought.
This was all wrong and you were without a doubt being soothed into… something. Peace? A sense of safety? Whatever it was, you mentally kept yourself prepared. Even if his touch was soft and careful, you knew what lurked behind those pretty eyes.
“You stopped shakin’…” his observation was more of a statement, but indeed you had warmed up enough not to shiver anymore. He wasn’t usually so nice as to help warm you up like this, usually making you drop to your knees and cling to him while he heckled your behavior.
Your world flipped too quickly to react. Your back now on the cool floor with his body looming over you.
“You’re still cold though, aren’t you pet?” His smile isn’t nice anymore.
“D-Dabi please…”
“What’s wrong, you don’t want me to warm you up anymore?” It was a thinly veiled threat that had you nearly delirious with panic in seconds.
“N-no I do! I do, please don’t stop!” Your pretty eyes filling with tears made him bite down hard on his tongue, tasting blood as he struggles to keep himself calm. It’s you after all. You weren’t some cheap whore he screwed for a quick release. You were his.
That meant something. Whether it was good or bad was debatable and complicated.
“Then let me warm you up, it’ll be faster like this,” he’s not lying. Even as he laughs at the confusion and waring emotions on your face, he really isn’t lying to you this time.
His lips aren’t soft. The kiss nothing like the ones you’d sneakily shared with a crush under the school bleachers, that kiss was a bit too wet and slimy. This one was commanding. His tongue easily slipping into your mouth in your shock, happy to invade and taste you, to share the overwhelming taste of tobacco. Your hands are tangled in his coat, tugging lightly on the fabric as he devours your mouth. He pulls back when you start to struggle, and the sight of your swollen parted lips has his pants uncomfortably tight. His zipper digging into his cock now.
“Dabi—,” your voice is barely even a whisper, almost inaudible but he catches it and pauses as he looks down at you carefully.
The fact that he’s even being careful should be considered as a mercy.
“Please be gentle…” your lips twist into a grimace, the lame line the only thing your muddled mind can conjure. His snort of amusement not helping your wounded pride, but as he shrugs his coat off and looks down at you, his words give you pause.
“I’m going to make you forget everything bad tonight pet.”
He doesn’t elaborate. You don’t need him to. You don’t want this. It doesn’t matter though, because you never wanted any of this. His sanity not even in question, because he’s clearly out of his damn mind and has been for quite a while.
His shirt is next, revealing his chest in the dim light of the tv still playing quietly, the words not even registering as a language you understood. The damaged flesh leathery and colored a dark purple in contrast to his healthy skin. You lay limp and almost defeated beneath him, watch as his hands deftly remove your own shirt, and while it’s not the first time he’s seen you naked… this would be the first he’s touched you so intimately. Your breasts exposed to the cool air harden quickly, his smile predatory as he leans over your chest to flick one with his tongue.
The sensation shoots straight to your pussy.
“Pretty little pet, are you scared?” His question is rhetorical, but you hate how he just seems to know your thoughts and feelings. So much so you wanted to ask if he hide a second quirk. In a last act of defiance, you shake your head. You are scared, terrified of what else there even is to lose because this evil man seems determined to take and have all of you. He’s insatiable for whatever you have, like a vampire taking the life right out of you. Except he won’t kill you, even if sometimes you wished he would. To end this game.
“Pfft, you look so serious,” his face is filled with only hunger and amusement, as he lets his rough palms rest over your breasts, squeezing lightly as he lets himself just take you in. His hands drag over your much softer skin, looking at the odd scar here and there left by his flames during the early days of your readjustment period. He lets one hand rest just over the mound of your pussy, still covered by the thin shorts that hardly covered anything. He’s quiet, and so are you, as you breathe and struggle to stay still for whatever this was. You imagined it to be more violent, less pathetic on your end, as if you’d given up without a fight.
Your tears of frustration finally broke and trailed down your cheeks, your brows furrowed and cheeks puffed as you try to stay silent and uphold whatever amount of dignity you had left. You wouldn’t beg him to stop, it only spurred him on. When his eyes looked back up, the image of you nearly drove him feral as he grinned, giddy with excitement in lieu of you crying. His snicker of approval only making you flinch back as his fingers hook inside the waist band of the shorts and your underwear.
“Keep crying pet. Maybe a hero will come to save you?” His words drip sarcasm as he now roughly yanks your bottoms down and off your body in one swift motion. You’re left completely nude and shivering as the cold seeps back into your body as you lay on the floor. “I don’t think any heroes even patrol this side of town anymore. Too dirty and messy, they can’t be bothered to save people here. So I guess that leaves just you n’me.” He’s not looking at your face, though he’d be elated to see the look of crushed hope painting your features, instead his eyes were trained on your tightly shut thighs. The soft skin a bit distorted from how hard you squeezed them closed. His dark hair falling a bit into his gaze as he easily digs his fingers roughly into your flesh to pry them open.
“Hii!” You cry of pain and shock adorable to his eyes as he gets an eye full in the dim light of your wet pussy.
“Better keep these spread pet, if I gotta open them again for you, I’ll give you a real reason to cry.” His eyes are fierce and foreboding as they meet your gaze, and fear keeps you compliant as you obey and keep your legs open where he left them. He smiles in approval, humming to himself as he begins to undo his belt and open up his pants.
He shifts to one handedly yanking his pants down to free his aching cock, his free hand moving to his open mouth to layer on his own saliva to his fingers. The wet digits brought to your pussy as you whimper, gently spreading your folds and admiring it as he grips his hard cock in his hand. You make the mistake of looking at it.
He’s covered in piercings. His cock long and thick, more so in the middle, with a slight upward curve… but there’s two distinct barbs through his dick on both sides, with the tip sporting one prominent one that had you wanting to disobey and close your legs anyway. It looked frightful and painful if anything else, and you briefly wondered if he did this to ensure his victims were thoroughly tormented at every step.
“Fuck look at you baby, so pretty like this aren’t you?” He’s gently poking and circling your clit, loving each little scared gasp and unsure look you shoot his way. He can tell it feels good for you, but with the uncertainty and fear factor of his looks and his cock, you’re wound tight in apprehension. He thinks it’s a beautiful sight on you. Your little sniffles and pouty lips captivate him into leaning over you again, licking your lips until you open and let him kiss you again. It’s languid and lazy like him, proving how good his mood currently is by how he’s taking his time with you. Your hands stay by your side, gripped tight into fists as you feel a finger begin to push inside of you.
He breaks the kiss the time, looking down to see you take his finger.
“Not so bad is it pet?” He wiggled and pushes it as deep as he can go, loving how your back aches and chest juts out in his face for easy access. He’s nice as he works you open with one finger, lavishing your sore nipples with licks and bites. You keep the moans soft and low, struggling to hate this like you thought you would.
It didn’t hurt at all. It felt good. That was the problem. Dabi never makes you feel good, he torments you like a cat with a mouse. That’s why he calls you pet.
So when he squeezes in a second finger and you moan louder? You nearly knock a tooth out slapping a hand over your lips in embarrassment.
“No you don’t,” his fingers rip free from your tight cunt, both hands gripping your wrists and pinning them with one hand above your head. He grabs his jacket, using the arms to make a makeshift cuff to lock your hands together. “Keep’’em right there,” he orders, and by his stern features you know he means it.
Tired of just testing the waters, Dabi crawls down your body in favor of bringing his face directly before your pussy. “Dabi?” Your head lifted to try and see him as he wraps his arms under your hips to hoist you up higher towards his awaiting mouth. “Been thinkin’ of how this pussy tastes for months,” he grins, letting his pierced tongue run from your dripping hole to your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body as your legs jolt and snap around his head.
You realize quickly and apologize, opening them to avoid any punishment.
“Good girl~” you don’t like how his praise warms you up further, your shaking now less from cold or fear and more from arousal.
He repeats his first few licks, before beginning to truly lavish your pretty cunt with his tongue and skills. Dabi isn’t actually an experienced man, most women fearful or disgusted by him for obvious reasons, but it wasn’t hard for him to figure out your reactions and follow the flow of your pleasure. The way you twitched and moaned, struggled to keep your hands in the spot he ordered you to, to keep your legs spread, he loved all of it. When your moans became high pitched whimpers and whines, and your muscles spasmed, he knew you were close.
“D-Dabi I think I—,” you were so close, core wound so tight you could snap at any second, and for the first time you liked what he was doing to you.
Until he stopped.
“No—!” Your cry was embarrassing, as you shook beneath him in horror of your own reaction. Panting and trying to catch your breath as your pleasure faded by the second, his Cheshire grin soaking up your disappointment eagerly. Of course he would, you felt bitter, even as he returned to licking and sucking your clit. Only when the build up returned did you relax again, moving your hips up a little as you neared the crest once more…
He stopped again.
“Dabi—!” Your indignant tone telling as you huffed, sweat beginning to dot your skin despite the cool temperatures, Dabi’s warmth even removed like this helping.
Your stomach ached with the urge to cum. “Something wrong pet?” His face said he knew what was wrong, but it seemed he wanted you to say it. Instead you stubbornly pressed your lips together, his shrug of nonchalance following as he returned to kissing and sucking, slower and more gradually building you up again.
Even if you mentally prepared for it, he let you get much closer to coming than the previous times, so when he pulled away, your legs clamped tight around his head to stop him. “Fuck, please Dabi,” you hated yourself. Hated how he held so much power over you.
If you didn’t look so cute, he’d probably punish you too for not listening.
“Please what?” You watch as he lets a drop of his salvia drip into your pussy, your trembling legs pushed open again by his hands as he stares up at you.
“P-please…” you didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to give him anymore of yourself but… “—please make me cum.”
He looks like that cat which got the milk. His satisfaction palpable as he laughs. “Well why didn’t you just say so? Since you said please.” His teasing tone muffled again soon by your wet pussy, his aggressive approach now much more intense as he eats you out with the purpose of making you cream his face now.
It doesn’t take long before the string violently snaps inside you, your orgasm intense and nearly painful as you come apart.
“Ah, yes, oh—,” you try to shift away, his tongue still laving your clit as he looks up at you, narrow gaze teasing and telling as you whine. “D-Dabi I-I already—ah please!” You almost bite your tongue when he sucks hard on your clit, your panic building with another orgasm. You moan, your head thrown back as your fingers grip and tug on the binding of his coat, hips shaking as you come again.
His lower face is soaked, but he can’t find it in himself to stop as he licks up all your release and noses your clit. Switching his assault to inside of your quivering hole, letting his wet hot tongue slither in, licking and poking your walls. He moans with you now, relaxing as he lets himself get comfortable, leaning against your thigh he has propped up now with his arm keeping you locked in position. He’s lazily feasting as you come again, this time breaking his rule and trying to push his face away with your hands still bound.
He doesn’t even stop then, just uses his free hand to grip the fabric and anchor your hands to your stomach as he continues to work you into another frenzy.
“S’too much! Stop! Stop Dabi! Please fuck, I can’t, ugh, no more—,” your pleas are ignored as he laughs, eyes crinkling as he watches you twitch and jolt with even the tiniest amount of pressure to your clit now.
“I thought you wanted to cum? Change your mind already?” You can hardly manage a full sentence, gasping for air like he’s choked you or something. He relents though, only because his cock is close to shooting his load even though he hadn’t touched himself while playing with you. Using his coat, he lifts your hands back above your head and scoots forward to let his heated cock slap against your wet folds. His hips automatically jerking a few times as his dick feels the soft wet heat your cunt is soaked in.
“You want my cock pet?” You look delirious and exhausted, sweat making your hair cling to your face as you briefly almost admit to being too warm now. Your both chilled and overheated as your sweat dries. Your blurry vision glances down to his throbbing length peaking at you from below, the heavy rod sliding back and forth through your slick and causing your pussy to twitch as he nudges your clit with it.
“S’not gonna fit…” his lip nearly splits on his smile, the cute admission only making him wanna shove it in you more to prove it will fit.
“You don’t think so?” His eyes look inhumanly blue from the cast of whatever show played on the tv now. One hand stays to keep your own pinned, while the other travels down your soft body to grip his cock and line himself up. “‘Cuz I think it will,” then he’s pushing in. His tip goes in easier as it gets crushed by your tight convulsing cunt, the rest engorged by blood feels painful as you cry, Dabi moaning as your gooey walls try to force him out. “I think,” one sharp thrust sinks a whole inch in, your eyes opening wide as tears spill freely, “I’ll get my entire cock in,” he pulls out only a little before shoving in a little more again. “And you know what else I think?” He’s leering down at you, manic grin frightening with the added shadows cast. You can feel his piercings, tugging and forcing themselves inside as he shifts and pushes, nearly stealing your ability to breathe.
“I think you’re gonna like it.” You can’t talk and he knows it, as his tip kisses your cervix, and then it’s bruising it as he shoves himself to entire way in, gasping in pleasure he sees himself fully sheathed inside you. His groin flush with your ass. Your walls so tight it feels impossible to pull out now. It doesn’t matter to Dabi though, as he grits his teeth and rocks forward and back, creating delicious friction on his cock. You’re left to sniffle and cry, pussy stretched painfully wide and aching deep inside from how his rough entrance.
“Poor little crybaby,” he chuckles, leaning closer to lick the tears off your cheeks as he finally gets himself wet enough to begin a slow pace inside you. “You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, burying his face in your neck for a moment while he ruts into you, quick short thrusts working him close to his orgasm. His hand works between you, thumbing your clit as you cry and writhe beneath him, pussy clenching and relaxing as you’re forced to cum with something thick, hot, and painfully heavy inside your cunt.
“Shitttt,” his teeth sink into your neck, grunting as his balls draw tight and he pumps his boiling load deep into your womb, pushing even deeper as it twitched and spurts. Your legs locking and trembling as you see stars.
He stills for a moment, catching his breath quickly as he lifts up to look at your ruined appearance. Your face covered in tears as you pant, eyes nearly closed as struggle to stay awake. Your pussy even messier, slick and cum coating you both and the floor, a tiny bit of pink mixed too.
The thought that it was him who ruined your innocence, taken your first and last, has him hardening again inside you.
You can only whine, silently pleading for a break, but his answering smile is familiar and devious.
“C’mon pet, we’re just getting started tonight.” He chuckles, pulling his hips back before roughly slamming into you now. The shock woke you up fully, pussy protesting the rough treatment he sets as the room fills with salacious noises, your pussy squelching with each slap of his balls. The piercing on his tip hitting a new angle as he leans back and jerks your hips up off the floor.
“Oh!” Your vision goes black as you cum, and Dabi only laughs and fucks you harder as you pass out, loving the stupid expression on your fucked out face.
“That’s it pet, said I was gonna make you forget!” He’s emptying another load inside you not longer after, his own dick becoming a bit overstimulated but too engrossed fucking you to stop yet. With you half conscious, it’s easy to slip out and flip you to your stomach before sliding back in smoothly. “Fuck, you feel so good baby, taking my cock like you were made for it,” his words are slurred in his pleasure, his hips working against your ass as he drags his slick cock out of your pussy before working it back in. He’s even deeper like this, your belly and hips flat on the floor as he fucks you.
You can’t even remember why you didn’t want this anymore. The pleasure and warmth overwhelming and so perfect.
At least as he fills your pussy again, you don’t feel cold.
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fl3shm4id3n · 5 months
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ᵢₜ wₐₛ ₒₙₗy ₐ ₘᵢₙᵤₜₑ
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧.
ꜰɴᴀꜰ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴏxʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ), ꜰᴏxʏ x ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ)
Tw: Spoilers? Missing children, child abduction, mentions of death, FNAF stuff, slight mental illness, mentions of getting committed, a bit emotional with an almost good ending?
A/N: I choose Foxy because he is my favorite both in the game and movie. Hope ya'll like this fic.
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You were just gone for a moment, you had to use the bathroom, you thought that he'd be okay with the other kids. When you came out, he was nowhere to be seen. You looked for him everywhere, in the arcade, the ball pit, the bathroom. Then you heard that other kids also went missing. The police got called, you told your mom what happened. You were growing scared and desperate to find your brother. But weeks turned to months, and months turned to years. The police just stopped looking because they didn't find anything. No suspicious activities or of that sort. No one was found and they didn't even find one single body. It was as if they vanished like thin air. But you? You didn't stopped, you didn't plan on stopping until you found what happened to your brother.
Not only that, but your dreams got all sorts of weird. You had always dreamt of the same thing. You were at the Pizzeria, stepping out of the restroom, wearing the same clothes as you did that day, except the place would get darker and more sinister. The people around you have become faceless and the music sounded much more dimer. You'd spot your brother for a moment, then he'd vanish into thin air. Every time that would happen, you'd call out to him. Screaming his name around the pizzeria. You'd also hear a voice, it sounded robotic. It would always spell out something that you couldn't quite catch. But there were some letters that you could make out. 'C...O...M...E... F...I...N...D M...E...'. You were never able to hear it clearly, it sounded like a broken cassette tape. Then you'd wake up. The dream went on for years, you never really dreamt of anything else. If you did, it would always be something that happened in your childhood, evolving your brother. A lot has changed since he turned out missing.
Now it was the early 2000's, you were already an adult. Working a nine to five job at a Target at the mall and living with your mom still. That early morning, you've woken up from that dream. Again, that same dream. You walking out the bathroom, still wearing that outfit you wore that day and the place was full of faceless people and that music. God that music made shivers run down your spine. You did what you'd always do, look for your brother. It always ended with with you entering the main lobby, near the small single stage. And again, that voice. 'C...O...M...E... F...I...N...D M...E...'. You never could make out what he was saying. Then you'd wake up. You didn't understand it. You never understood it. You got ready for work. You put on your red polo shirt with your name tag and your light brown kaki pants. Before you left the room, you looked at a picture sitting in your night stand. It was of you and your brother, on his birthday. You remembered that summer how he had a pirate themed birthday party. He loved pirates. You remember how he would walk around with a black eyepatch and a hook on his right hand. You would even play with him when your mom would be out working late. You always choose to be a mermaid or the villain in his games. You missed those times.
Besides that, you never really planned on going to school for anything. That was the last thing you would be worried about. So you decided to work, maybe save up enough money to maybe hire a private investigator or someone who can help you find something. Now you were at work, doing what you'd normally do. Just helping customers and ringing them out. It was just a regular day. It felt slower than most days. You heard from your coworkers that a security guard got fired, before he punched a guy who he mistook as a kidnapper. If you were in his situation, you'd probably do the same. Now a-days you didn't know who you could trust or you couldn't even look away from a moment because something could happen with a blink of an eye. It was understandable, at least to you.
You've been invited to do things with your coworkers, except you've declined. Always telling them that you were busy or you just didn't feel like going out. It was hard for you to make friends, you had basically isolated yourself from everyone when your brother turned up missing. You never really tried to make friends again. This worried your mom. Since you'd only go to work, go home, eat and sleep. It was a repeated cycle. She had talked to you about going to see a therapist. But you always declined. You didn't want to go and talk to somebody about how after many years you're still on the hunt for your brother. They'll probably medicate you or get you committed into an asylum. You you avoided that topic.
After work, you were back home. In your room, looking through your book. This book had news paper articles, along with police reports, pictures and other things that you've kept for years. This was your kind of evidence that you kept. You'd study these stuff day and night, for the last couple of years. You never gave up. Not only that, but you've tried asking the owner of the place 'William Afton' if you could go into the place to investigate, except the guy never picked up the phone or responded to your letters. You've even tried to get the job as a security guard, but Steve Raglan, who was a career counselor didn't give you the job. He'd always say that. 'It wasn't good for your mental health' or that 'He needs someone who's more calm and collected'. What he probably meant was that he needed someone who wasn't crazy.
You were busy looking at the old, now yellow news paper. Re-reading the article about the missing kids. You've read it many times by now, you might even memorize it. Then you heard someone knock at your door, then they came in. It was your mom. Who had a face of worry. "Y/n? Have you ate anything?" She asked, looking over you saw that she still had her work uniform on, she must have got back. "No, not yet." You responded, then she got closer. Seen what you were reading. She let out a sigh, as if she was exhausted of some kind. "Again? Y/n, we've been over this." She said, then you looked over at her. "I know, but... I just got to find something." You added to her.
She looked at you, seen the dark circles under your eyes. Indicating that you didn't get much sleep. "Baby, it's been years." She said, while looking at you. "You just... have to accept that he isn't coming back." She said sadly, as if she didn't want to say it, but she did. "I know... I just... want to know what happened to him.. or at least who took him.." you added in defense. Your mom then fidgeted with your hair a bit, as if she was fixing it. "So do it, but... you have to stop this obsession. It's not good for you." She said to you. It went silent for a moment, then your mom let out a small sigh. "I'll get dinner started, I'll come to get you in a bit." She said, giving you a small squeeze to your shoulder and she left your room. You sighed, placing your hands on your cheeks and leaned on the desk. Trying to think of what your mom said. Then you looked at picture sitting on the night stand for a moment. After a whole silent minute, you got up from the desk and went into the kitchen where your mom was, to help her with dinner.
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You were at the food court, you had taken your lunch break, now you were heading back. You weren't watching where you were going and you've bumped into somebody. Making them drop a book of theirs. "Shit, I'm sorry." You said, picking up the old looking small book with the title which read 'Dream Theory'. Interesting. "It's alright." He said, then you handed the book to the guy. He was cute. He had messy brown hair and slightly tired eyes. The same description as the security guy who got fired.
"Are you... the guy who got fired from security?" you asked him. He had a look of embarrassment, but he nodded. "Yeah, that's me." He said. It was quiet for a moment, but you spoke again. "What you did was understandable." You said, making him look at you with his eyes slightly wide by your words. "You think so?" He asked. "Yeah, now a-days, you don't even know people's intentions or motives. I would have probably done the same if I were you." You explained. He only nodded at your words, at least someone also thought like him. "Well, I better go, hopefully I'll see you around." You said with a small smile. He nodded and returned the smile. Afterwards, you headed back towards your work place, while he also left to his destination.
You were back home, counting the money you kept in a shoebox underneath your bed. It was enough to fire an investigator, but you knew that you'll need more. This would probably cover the bear bare minimum. It was frustrating. You've spent a whole year saving, yet it didn't feel like it was enough. You knew that you should have got a job sooner, than later. Again, you went through the same old articles and pictures. Trying to find something again. But nothing, it was the same old thing. The same words and the same people in the pictures. Of kids playing around the arcade and one of a person dressed as a yellow bunny. That was odd, you don't remember that bunny at the pizzeria. When was he added? When you looked at the picture of him posing with a girl with blonde hair in pick tails, it felt creepy in a way. Almost unsettling. You didn't really notice this picture or you probably didn't notice it at first.
It was another day, you were in the register, ringing people out. You sighed, in exhaustion. Your feet were hurting and time felt much slower than usual. Another costumer came to the register. You gave them the best smile. "Hello-" you were cut off guard, seen that it was that guy you met the other day. "Oh, it's you. Find everything alright?" You asked him, like you'd normally asked every costumer. You scanned the box of crayons and paper, along with a few things he had in his basket. "Yeah, thanks." He said, while grabbing his wallet. "Found a job yet?" You asked him, out of politeness. "If you haven't, I'm sure you could send in your application." You said. "I actually already did, but thank you for the offer." He responded. You nodded, as you placed the items in a white plastic bag with the red Target logo. "What did you find? If you don't mind me asking." You asked him. "A security guard, at some pizzeria. The pay isn't good, but it's something." He explained.
This caught your curiosity. "Really? What pizzeria?" you asked, putting the packet of bacon in the bag. "It's called, I think. Freddy's Fazbear's Pizza, something like that." He explained. No fucking way. You looked at him wide eyed. "For real?" You asked him, he only nodded. Then he gave you the amount of money that was due. As you handed him his receipt, you hesitated a bit. "When can I see you again?" You asked. "Hm, I don't know, maybe in half an hour while I still have time? Why?" He asked, now curious on why you'd want to see him. "It's cause... I'd like to talk to you about something. It'll be worth your while, I promise." You said, he thought of it for a minute, then he nodded. "Alright, I'll meet you in the food court... When does your shift in end?" he asked. "In about an hour, what's your name by the way?" You asked him. "It's Mike." He told kindly, as you hummed in response. Watching him leave in a bit of a hurry, you went back to work hoping that the time would go by fast.
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After that hour, you were at the food court, waiting for Mike to arrive. He finally did. "Thanks for coming." You said almost shyly. "No problem, but just make it quick. I got to get back home to get ready for my first shift." He explained. You and him sat on a table. "Look, I know you've only known me for a bit. But, please hear me out." You said. Mike nodded, allowing you to processed. "Could you, maybe let me in the pizzeria, while you do your job. I'm just looking for something." You explained to him. He looked at you with a look of confusion. "Don't worry, I'm not going to steal anything, I'm just looking for something." You explained to him. But he wanted to know a bit more. "I don't know. What exactly are you looking for? Treasure of some kind?" He asked. "Well, almost something like that." You told him, but he still not very convinced. You didn't know whether you should tell him the whole story on why you're interested in going into the pizzeria. You just skipped the subject.
"Not only that, but I'll pay you for your troubles. I just want to go in and look, then I'm out." You added, as soon as you said 'paid' he looked at you with more reason. "How much?" he asked. "Two-hundred dollars per night. It'll just be this week and no more." You told him, seen the look of shock in his face. He thought for a minute. Then he nodded his head. "Alright deal, but, you have to pay first. I don't want to get scammed or anything." He said, then you grabbed your wallet and handed him two fifty dollar bills. He took the money and looked at it, in almost as if he'd never seen that amount in while. "That's all I have for now, but I'll give you the rest afterwards." You explained to him. Mike nodded, he seemed as if he was convinced. "Alright, it's a deal then." He said. After that was settled. "Before I go, here's my house number. Call me if anything." You explained to him, writing your house number on a piece of paper and gave it to him. You normally wouldn't give your number to anyone, but you knew that you'd be seen him for the next couple days.
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Back home, you told your mom that you'd be going out at night for the whole week. For some kind of night shift and you'd be back at 6:00 am. You left home and headed to the pizzeria. It was 11:55 pm. You were sitting in your car, waiting for Mike to arrive. A few minutes passed and he had arrived at 12:00 am. On time. He told you to just be smooth and not make it seem as if you were here. He sounded as if he really needed this job. You nodded understandingly and went to search.
Like before, you searched everywhere that you could. Except you got to look more. In the kitchen, boiler room and in the back. But nothing. Despite not finding anything, you'll be back tomorrow night. When you got back to the main lobby, you heard strange movements coming from the single stage. It had dark purple curtains like the main one. You got a bit close, trying to listen and see closely on what was making the inside of the stage move. You reached out and tried to pull the curtains, until you heard the Mike called out to you. "Hey, it's 6:00, we gotta go." He said, you nodded at him, you looked back at the stage. Before you headed out. "Here's the rest." You told him, giving him the other two fifty bucks. He took them. "Thanks." He said, putting the money in his pocket. "No, thank you for letting me do this. I know it's risky." You said with a small smile. "It's nothing really, I just... really need the money and the pay here is not so great. From what I was told." He explained. You nodded. "I understand." You responded to him. "Well, I'll see you later tonight?" you asked him. "Yeah. See ya." He responded with a small awkward smile, then headed to his car. You did the same.
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You went home, slept for a few hours. You had that dream once again. But, there was a slight change. When you got to the small single stage, the voice sounded much different than before. 'Y...O...U... F...O...U...N..D... M... E...' You could slightly make out the letters, but the words completely. Then you woke up again. Like always. You got ready and went to work and after work you went home, then you left to the pizzeria at the same time as you did before. Mike arrived, you paid him the while two hundred dollars and you got to doing what you were doing. You searched in the same places, but this time you looked more in the main lobby. It felt as if you were getting closer to finding something, and that something was in the main lobby. You looked under the tables, bathrooms and even in the trashcans, but nothing. But it still felt close. Looking over at the single stage, you noticed that the curtains were open. You walked over to it, and saw that it was empty. Dammit, you thought something would be in there, before you could leaned close to look inside. You heard a loud thud in the office.
Quickly you ran towards the office. "Mike?" You called out to him, seen that he was on the floor groaning in pain. Bleeding from his arm. You went over and helped him up from the floor. "You good? What happened?" you asked him, setting him back on the chair. "I think so, dunno how that happened." He said, referring to the wound on his arm. It looked nasty. You looked around the office, trying to find a first aid kit. When you found it, you helped him patch up his wound. "What did you do?" You asked him, as you tightened the bandages on his arm. "I have no idea, I just dreamed of this kid, with a pirate hook. I chased after him, then he slashed me." He said, this caught your attention. 'Boy with a pirate hook.' That must have been a sign somehow.
When you got back home, your mom was getting ready to leave. You talked for a bit before she left. When she did, you went to catch some sleep before work. You went back to that same dream, back at the pizzeria, except you were in the last place where it ended. At the single stage, it was open. But it was empty. You got close, leaning in to look inside, but it was dark. All most like a bottomless pit. You stoke your hand in to see if you might find something, inside but you felt something grabbing your hand in the process. You heard the voice again. 'Y...O...U... F...O...U...N..D... M... E...'. Then the house phone rang. Making you wake up with a loud gasp, a bit frightened. Groaning that you've been woken up. You got up and walked towards the living room. You picked up the phone and answered.
"Hello?" you asked through the phone. "Y/n? Hey it Mike, sorry to interrupt whatever you were doing, but. Did you break into the pizzeria earlier this morning?" He asked, sounding worried in a way. "No? I was home the whole time. Why what happened?" You asked him. "Apparently someone or a group of people broke in. I just wanted to conform something." He explained. "That was it, sorry for interrupting." He apologized. "It's alright, I get it. I'll see you later tonight." You said, then you hung up. Who the hell would break into the pizzeria? That was a bit suspicious. You looked at the time and saw that it was close to being time to go to work. You sighed, walking back to your room to get ready.
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Later that night, you were back at the pizzeria, waiting for Michael. He arrived, once he parked and stepped out of the car, then he went to the passenger door and opened it. A little girl stepped out with a small back pack. They both approached you. "Sorry, I couldn't get a hold of the babysitter and I just couldn't leave her alone." He explained to you. "Are you Mike's girlfriend?" she asked. Making you giggle and her brother's face turned a slight red. "Nah, just a friend." You replied to her. "Hm, I didn't think he'd have any." She said, making you laugh and Michael's face becoming redder. After you had a small introduction, you went in.
The place was trashed and a mess. While Mike went to put Abby to sleep, you decided to get some cleaning supplies to help clean the mess. You went to the janitor's closet to find some things, you spotted how on the door there was a dark liquid that had been splattered on there. Weird, it looked almost similar to blood, it was probably an old stain of some sort. You got brooms, dustpans, a bucket, mop and cleaning products. Then headed back to the main lobby. When Michael arrived, you and him got to cleaning. You both swept, mopped and you stocked up the chair and tables. Afterward, he went back to the office while you went on your search. Trying to find any kind of new clues maybe, but nothing. Some 'evidence' must have been cleaned up. You headed back to the office and saw that Mike was asleep and Abby had woken up. "Can you take me to the bathroom please?" She asked. You looked over at her sleeping brother and back at her. "Yeah, lets go." You said, taking her hand and leading her to the restroom.
You were waiting outside of the restroom, waiting for her to finish so that she could go back to her brother. The door opened and she walked out. "Done." She said with a small smile. Then a small noise was heard in the stage. You and Abby looked over for a minute. "Stay behind me." You said, then you slowly walked towards the lobby, with Abby behind you. You saw how the stage slightly shook, you kept the younger kid behind you, grabbing a broom. To defend yourself. Then the curtains of both the stages opened, revealing the animatronics. Of a bunny, bear, and a chick. They were all in good condition, with a bit of dirt and dust on them. The single stage had a fox, a bright red one that was more tattered than the rest, also with some dust.
They all moved their heads, towards your direction. Then they began to walk towards you both. You don't remember them doing that. You held the broom tightly, and kept Abby behind you. Except she peaked and looked towards the animatronics. "Those are my friends." She said, removing herself from behind you and going up to the four animals. "Abby wait." You said, getting closer to them. She seemed as if she knew them. Did she? You kept your broom in hand, watching as Abby interacted with them as if she's known them all her life. You felt something touch your shoulder, looking over, you saw the red fox. He was moving his ears and hook for a hand excitedly. Instead of feeling scared, you felt some kind of attraction? "It's okay, he just wants to hug you." Abby said to you, now the animatronics were looking at you. "He does?" you asked her, she then nodded.
Turning to face the fox, that was twice your size. You set the broom aside, then you extended your arms and moved closer to him. He did the same. You wrapped your arms around the cold fur like robotic body. His arms were around your smaller body. It felt a bit odd, but the more you hugged him, it felt comforting. You felt his hook for a hand giving you small pats, as a way to ease you. This felt nice, then you pulled away from him. Looking at him in his single eye. He moved his jaw excitedly, as well as his ears. It was cute in way. You gave him a small smile. Out of nowhere Abby began to laugh, you looked over and saw how the others were tickling her. She just laughed, which lead to some playful screaming and her telling them to stop. It was all fun and games, until you heard Mike run in to see what was happening.
As soon as he got there, he assumed Abby and you were in some kind of danger, he then grabbed a chair and held it up, as Freddy approached him. About to fight him. "It's okay Freddy, he's my brother Mike." Abby said towards Freddy, who had seemed to have calmed down. Allowing him to let Mike pass. "Mike, this is Bonnie, Foxy and Chica. Everyone, this is Mike." Abby introduced everyone to on another. "This is... is a joke right?" He asked, looking confused at you. "I thought I was tripping, but no." You responded to him. "It's okay Mike, they just want to play." Abby told Mike, then Chica turned to her and gave her a wink, making her smile.
"Alright, it's time to go, come on." He encouraged Abby. "Hold on." She responded to him, then she grabbed her little notepad and a red marker from her pocket. She drew something real quick and tore it off the notepad. Bonnie held out his hand, letting Abby put the picture on his palm. He then showed the picture to Foxy who looked very interested in the heart drawn on the paper. "I had a lot of fun." Abby told them, she then walked towards Mike. But stopped and gave Freddy a nice hug. Freddy returned the hug back. You looked at Foxy, who was waving his ears and jaw rapidly again. Also waving his hook around as if he was waving at you. "I'll see you around?" you asked him, he nodded his head. Then you walked out of the place with Mike and Abby.
"That was something." Mike said, watching Abby get in his car. "Yeah, it was." You responded, looking back inside, seen that Foxy was near the door. You guessed to make sure that you would all leave. You turned back to Mike who was closing and locking the gate. "So, find something?" He asked again. "Not yet, but I'm much closer than before." You explained to him. After he finished locking up the door. "I better get going. I got work in a few hours." You told him. "Alright, I'll probably stop by." He teased, making smile. "Alright, don't be a stranger." You told him, then you looked at Abby. "Goodbye Abby." You said kindly to her and she gave you smile, then you headed to your car, turned on the engine to get home. Back home, your mom wasn't there. You assumed she went to work early. You took off your shoes and just jumped on the couch, getting comfortable. Taking yet another nap before work. Hopefully afterwards you could get some better sleep. You fell asleep shortly afterwards.
You back at the pizzeria, except wasn't almost scary looking and dark like before. It seemed more friendly and nice to be in. You were standing outside the bathroom, the same clothes as before. Looking around, you saw someone in front of the single stage, they were small, like a child. You got closer to see who it was. Your eyes widen when you saw the back of that person's back of his head. They slowly turned around. You saw that it was your brother, he looks just like how he did when he went missing. He had on his orange shirt with blue jeans, shoes and his pirate hook that he had made.
"You found me." He said, you felt your eyes watering. It's been so long since you've seen your brother. You almost forgot how he looked like. You said his name in a whisper, then you went over, getting on your knees and pulling him into a hug. "Oh...I'm so sorry, I was only gone for a minute. I knew I should have been more watchful of you." You said, as you cried more, hugging your brother. "It's okay. You found me" He responded to you, all you could do was hug him and cry. As much as you wanted to continue to hug and be with him, you couldn't. This was only a dream. You pulled away, and looked at him in the eyes. "Please... I have to know... who took you?" You asked him, hoping that he'd give you answer or a clue. He didn't say anything. "Please tell me, who took you from me and mom?" You asked him again, but again. Nothing. Before you could ask him again. You woke up.
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statusexile · 3 months
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[tw: corruption kink, fisting, squirting, dirty talk]
Ghost is a regular at the coffee shop where you work as a barista. He visits at least five times a week and always orders an Americano. Even with his balaclava on, you can feel his intense gaze on you every time you take his order, sending shivers down your spine. But he has never said anything besides a simple thank you, so it catches you off guard when he finally asks you out on a date.
Your first date with him was perfect. Despite his cold demeanor on the outside, deep down, he was a true gentleman. You feel absolutely comfortable talking to him, even though it was your very first date. When you told him that you had never dated anyone before or had sex, he was surprised — how could someone as beautiful as you never been with anyone before? But instead of judging or pressuring you, Ghost simply smiled and continued to treat you with the utmost respect and care until the date ends. As the two of you continued to go on dates, Ghost finally confesses his love to you.
Ghost may present himself as a gentleman, but you had no idea what he had in store for you. He loves you, but his main intention was to defile your innocence, to twist you into his corrupt and depraved little fuck toy.  And Ghost is a patient man; he’s willing to wait for however long it may take for that day to come.
The first time you had sex with him was absolutely sweet and beautiful. He took his time, spending at least an hour prepping you and making sure you were comfortable before finally fucking you with his throbbing cock by making you cum on his mouth and fingers first. You could feel your pussy stretched when he finally fucks you with his monstrous cock, making you sob from the sensation. Ghost peppered you with kisses and praises as he slowly fucks you, reminding you how good you are for him.
But that was a long time ago, as you now find yourself spread open on his couch, legs splayed wide as he thrusts his entire fist into your wet cunt. The sharp pain shoots through you as his knuckle pounds you deep inside while his other hand holds a lit cigarette, casually taking drags as he ruthlessly fists your cervix with forceful thrusts. You are completely under his control, reduced to a writhing mess as he ravages you without mercy, determined to completely destroy your cunt.
“Look at you taking my fist like a champ, love” Ghost’s voice drips with scorn and disgust as he takes another drag of his cigarette, inhaling deeply before exhaling a cloud of smoke while continuing to violently fist fuck your already sore and bruised cunt. You let out a guttural scream that echoes through the walls of his apartment, tears streaming down your face as you feel his knuckle ruts into you. It feels like he’s trying to rip out your organs and leave you gutted like a fish. You can’t help but revel in the feeling of being completely owned by Ghost. And deep down, that’s exactly what you wanted all along.
“Oh, you want to cum, sweetheart? Come on, cum for me, cum on my fucking fist you pathetic little slut,” Ghost growls sadistically as he plunge his fist deeper and faster into your throbbing cunt. Broken sobs escape from your raw throat, but your body responds to his command soon enough as you finally squirt all over his hand, the warm liquid dripping down onto the couch and coating his tatted forearm with your cum.
Your body trembles as he forcefully pulls out his fist from inside your throbbing, stretched-out cunt, leaving it hollow and dripping with the remnants of your juice. He shoves his hand into your mouth. Your tongue greedily laps of your own cum, drinking it like a rabid dog.
Ghost found you first and now you’re his forever to ruin however he pleases. ♡
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konigsblog · 3 months
Text
kidnapper-simon riley headcannons
tw/cw: obviously kidnapping, bondage, intoxication, dead dove: do not eat, punishments non/dub-con.
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simon riley isn't some sweet, kindhearted angel that would sacrifice the world for you — he tries to be, but he's so worn down and insane that he can't help but lash out and punish you for the smallest of things, from accidentally spilling something, or arguing back.
he gets selfish gratification and pleasure when he's punishing you. he adores the sight of your skin, all bruised and covered in rope burn, your pretty body bare and revealed to him. he strips you of your dignity immediately, because regardless, it'll be stolen from you eventually if it wasn't taken immediately.
he's selfish, he does this for his own needs. he's greedy, and he's aware. simon doesn't even allow you to see his face, just a plain black balaclava covering his face. he loves it, being anonymous, able to make you feel vulnerable and scared as you're unaware and frightened by whatever is hiding behind the mask. simon loves it; he loves when you look into his eyes past the mask while you're locked into the cage, all teary-eyed, sulking and shaking, goosebumps covering your skin.
he takes you because he needs an outlet, for his frustration and sexual needs. you're a nuisance to simon, but god, you fulfill his needs so well when you're all drugged up and intoxicated. doing whatever is asked of you obediently.
“attagirlll... you’r learnin’ so fast, pretty doll.” he chuckles, the hoarse and gravelly sound sending shivers down your spine.
he keeps his hand on the back of your neck, holding your head down as he thrusts and ruts into you. simon isn't delusional; he's more than aware that this is illegal, brutal and cruel for him to do. he's so stoic and cold, that there's no point in building a relationship with a man as horrid as simon.
“feel too-.. too full, si--...”
you pant out, the feeling of him brutalizing your hole, raw and sensitive as he pumps himself into your slicken, drooling cunt. you're a complete, sobbing, broken mess; weak, useless, with your only purpose being to serve simon.
each thrust burns, and he doesn't hold back. he grips the back of the collar around your neck, tugging it firmly and forcing your back against his chest. he grinds into you, his mask lifted over his lips as he kisses down your neck in a sickly sweet, twisted way of loving on you. with his eyes wide and blown out, simon takes slow, hard thrusts, ramming into you slowly. you're so drunk and high, unable to form a proper sentence without crying or stuttering.
the feeling of his fat, heavy balls pressed against your cunt is agonisingly, and the tightening, choking sensation caused by him holding your collar tightly feels restrictive. you pant, breathing out, spitting and slobbering over yourself as you desperately try to breathe, gasping when he lets go, pushing you down onto your hands and knees and slamming into you while spanking and slapping your ass with his leather belt, the texture of his jeans against the backs of your bare thighs painful to your sensitive bruises.
your only purpose is to tease him and take his thick cock well, a slave held captive and bound with ropes.
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soriseerakyra · 3 months
Text
Harmony
TW: Sick child, and bodily fluids
He is so small and so pale. You don’t remember the last time you’ve seen anyone that gray, let alone a child. A gray cast to his skin makes the rosiness of his cheeks stand out, even in the warm orange light of the room.
You feel childish, stupid even. Not only because you are peeking into a clearly private moment. But also, because five minutes ago you sat in the foyer of your date’s home, heel tapping in annoyance.
You were so sure of yourself too. It had been just another time that he was going to cancel you. Even worse, you were waiting in his home, and he hadn’t even bothered to come down and greet you when you arrived. Alfred did, with worried eyes and a solemn frown. Irritation had flashed down your spine so quickly that you didn’t even bother to question the look on the man's face, sure that he would simply give you another excuse on behalf of his employer.  The first few times you’d communicated with the man he had seemed just as annoyed as you were with Bruce.  But he didn’t commiserate with you tonight, and now you can see why there was a touch of worry on his brow.
Your date was on his knees, large shoulders hunched in exhaustion next to the small pale boy. His large hands gripped the boys’ smaller ones. Kneeling next to the bed it is a bit absurd how much larger he is than the boy. And yet he feels small. Almost broken.
His normally teasing blue eyes are sunken, with dark circles and harsh lines marring his face like paint. You know that look, the look of a parent in distress. Your mother often had the same one when you would get sick.
You knew about the boy, though he was mentioned more by rumor than his actual father. You understood that though, the need for someone in his position to protect his son. The gossip rags had cruelly stated that he had only taken the boy in out of pity and you had imagined that put a bitter taste in Bruce’s mouth. You weren’t surprised how hesitant he felt about introducing to the boy to you.
A strained huff turns your attention back to the small frame quivering in the bed. His breath seems stilted for a moment, a pause that goes on too long for his father.
“Dick?” The man questions as he shakes the boy’s hands slightly.
Then the boy, Dick, begins to cough. The harshness of it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. It’s a deep, raspy sound, one that shouldn’t be able to come out of a body that small. You can hear the spasms of his lungs as air tries to force its way out of his mouth.
Bruce moves to soothe the boy, a hand laying on his chest for comfort, an attempt to make the delirious child aware of his presence. But that’s all he can seem to do. His mouth turned down in a frown and his eyes were wide with a panic. It dawns on you that he has no idea how to help a sick child.
The coughs show no signs of slowing down, if anything, the hacking seems to get worse. And the feeling broiling in your stomach coaxes you into motion.
You can’t just watch.
You palm the door, slamming it open much harder than you mean to. The noise causes both bodies to startle, but only one pair of eyes rises to meet yours. The large man is on his feet quicker than you can blink.
He looks at you with wide eyes and clenched fists. He looks like a predator, caught off guard in his own home. His blue eyes are black as he looks you up and down. It takes little more than a second for him to recognize you and for his hackles to recede.
“Excuse me,” you say pushing your way between him and the boy.
Bruce is surprisingly easy to move as if he is easily surrendering to your authority on the matter.
You take your place next to the boy quickly.
“Hi Dick,” you start with a friendly tone, you don’t want to scare the boy. Although you doubt it, he cares at the moment.
He can only pause from his coughs for a second. Long enough for him to squint one baby blue eye open at you in greeting. It’s closed almost immediately after, as strained coughs once again wrack his tiny frame.
“Can you put your hands above your head for me,” your voice is firm and gentle. In the back of your mind, you briefly realize how much you are mimicking your mother’s dulcet tones; you aren’t even sure how you’re doing it.
The boy responds. Small arms rise above his head, bent at the elbows, one pinker than the other from having been under the warmth of his comforter.
Your hand finds his back and you rub a soothing circle before beginning to pat rhythmically.
“What are you doing?” Bruce asks from the corner of the room.
You acknowledge him with a small sharp glance, but your face relaxes when you take in the worried furrow of his brow.
“Got to loosen the mucus, otherwise he won’t be able to breathe.”
You are careful not to hit the boy too hard, the idea of even the hint of a red mark on his skin makes you shudder, but better than him not being able to breathe.
“Does he have asthma?” You probe.
“I don’t think so.”
“Has he been sick like this before?”
“I don’t know.”
Your eye twitches with annoyance and you bite the tip of your tongue to keep from making your feelings known. You can feel the worry dripping off Bruce in waves, that usually composed steady tone of his not wavering, but he has an unmistakably worried look in his eye. Even if he did know that boy’s medical history, he probably wasn’t in the right state of mind to recall it.
“Can you get him some tea, with honey and lemon, please? You try to be polite about it, but your tone conveys an order rather than a request.
He hesitates, again. Eyes flickering from between you and the boy once again. And then something changes. As if he’s resigned himself to the fact that, at the moment he can’t help. He gives you a nod, his eyes no longer clouded with fear but with a newfound trust. Trust in you.
“And some mentholatum or Vicks if you have it.”
If he has questions, he doesn’t ask them.
In the next seconds, you are left alone in a room with a boy you barely know, and one you aren’t even sure knows who you are.
Time passes slowly, every second feeling longer than it should as the boy shakes in your arms, and you continue to hit his back.
Finally, the cough changes. It becomes less dry, and more heaving. Your eyes find a box of tissues on the nightstand. The moment you press the cloth to his mouth he begins to heave into your palm. You suppress your slightly disgusted shudder as warm sticky liquid is coughed into your hand.
“It’s okay,” you soothe both you and the boy. Dick’s arms come down as he hacks more into each successive tissue offered up to him.
It’s not long until both the cough and the boy are exhausted.
It’s at this moment that Alfred comes in. He pushes a small rolling tray that has a small kettle, spoon, and cup. Honey and lemon are placed in small dishes on the side.
He looks at the pair of you. The boy collapsed on your chest and you with a small awkward but proud smile on your face. You can see a small outline of a wistful smile on his face.
“Anything else, ma’am?” The butler asks as he pushes the cart next to you.
“No, thank you.  I think we are alright for right now, Alfred.”
Something twinkles in his eye, and leaves you with the child, like it was only natural for you to be there.
He feels odd, childish even. He was snooping in his own house. But he needs a moment to collect himself. On the way home from the nearest drug store he had been dreading coming back to the manor and hearing the echoes of a miserable sick child tumble through the house. Instead, he returned to a home at peace. And as he picked through the bedroom door, he could only hear the soft sounds of breathing.
Dick, his son he must remind himself, is pressed to her side, head resting on her chest. Like some kind of painting. His mouth is open making soft noises, nose is too stuffy to breathe properly. She too is resting eyes closed as she rests her back against the headboard, her nails raking through the boy’s dark hair soothingly.
It’s absurd, how fitting she looks there, how fittingly they look together. She’d removed her strappy heels, stretched the form-fitting skirt of her gold dress to its limit to make Dick more comfortable, and her perfectly coifed hair had fallen slightly flat; small streaks of sweat dried at her hairline.
Something alerts her to his presence, and her eyes open sharp, the sternness only seems to accentuate their beauty. Her lips are pulled down in a slightly disappointed pouting frown, as if she knows that he’s been standing there.
A heat runs through him.
She looks at him expectantly.
“You, have it?” She asked arm outstretched, presupposing his answer.
He rustles in the small bag that he got from the store. Nearly fumbling for the right box. He’s slightly embarrassed that he can’t immediately produce what she’s asked for. He’d gone overboard in the store, buying all the cold medicines that he could get his hand on. So much so that he almost forgot the cream she asked for.
“Open it for me?”
He does as she asks and is ready to plop the jar in her hand, but he stops. He can see the cogs in her head turning as she looks at him with examining eyes.
“Sit on the other side,” she commands.
And almost reflexively he does as she asks. His weight causes the mattress to dip slightly, and the boy shifts slightly in her arms, straining to keep himself in nestled into her. She takes it in stride, pulling Dick closer to her so he can be comfortable.
“You’re going to rub it on his back, we lay him down, then rub it on his chest.”
“It’ll help?” He questions. He hates how unsure he sounds. Earlier he tried his best to hide it, but the long hours of worry have made his resolve shake. This worry is a type of ache he’s never experienced before and he’s still in the midst of training himself to beat down the feeling and get himself to think rationally.
“It’ll help.” She assures with a chuckle. The looking in her eyes is gentle, and her soft hand guides him to administer the slightly tingling balm to the boy's back.
Bruce’s heart flutters.
The deed is done. The tiny boy in your arms is medicated, rubbed down, and fast asleep.
The only problem now is that you are trapped.
The tight embrace of a sleeping sick nine-year-old has you chained to the bed and this strange situation.
And you weren’t the only one leashed to this child’s bed. Every so often Bruce’s hand would come up and rub the child’s back, as if he was checking that he was still stable. While he wasn’t locked in the vice-like grip of his son he was just as attached to the mattress as you were.
“He’ll want to thank you,” he murmurs, breaking the warm silence that had settled over the room. “He’ll be a little embarrassed, but he won’t let you go without saying thank you.”
“It doesn’t look like he’s planning on letting me go anyway,” You quip.
You both share a chuckle.
“I should find a way to get going, though.” You didn’t wear a watch, but your internal clock was telling you that it was very late into the night, bordering on morning. You weren’t sure just how long the pair of you had been watching the boy.
“You could stay,”
“I don’t know-.”
“Here with us.”
The statements are smushed together between you, each cutting the other off before you can form a complete thought. Nervous energies smashing against each other. Both knew, that if you stayed that night, something would fundamentally change.  Not that it already hadn’t, his son was clinging to you like you were his lifeline.
Your mouth turns dry, underneath Bruce’s stormy gaze. There is a certainty there you had never seen before, at least not when it came to you. When he could make your dates, he was always attentive, but never present and committed. A distance in his eyes that you didn’t know how to close. It’s gone now.
“If you want to,” he adds.
Only for your benefit, you are sure. And for a moment you’re stuck. Wondering to yourself if this is something that you want. The commitment and consideration of feelings of not just the pair of you but the small child whose soft snores are ringing in your ears. And as sudden as it seems, you can’t deny the warmth that’s resonating through your form at the thought of the three of you eating breakfast together.
“I’d like that.”
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pseudowho · 19 hours
Text
Red
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Nanami Kento, the infamous Curse User, is finally captured and sentenced to death after years on the run. The reader feels her grasp on morality quickly unravel, when her ex-boyfriend breaks down any inhibitions she thought she still had.
Warnings: 18+, smut, MDNI, Bad!Nanami, really a reprehensible man, rough sex, bondage, forced orgasm, multiple sessions, coercion, dubcon, tw: gaslighting, tw: abuse, reader is obsessed and hopelessly in love, and Nanami Kento takes full advantage of that.
*I absolutely do not endorse a relationship like this, and I must insist that anyone who reads this sees it as the red flag it is...ANYWAY...*
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You felt sick to your stomach.
"They caught him. Did you hear?"
You stumbled through the rain, barely composed, your heart in your mouth. Anxious desperation clawed up your spine, on your way to get the fix that you had been withdrawing from for so long.
"Yeah, Gojo got him, obviously. No, no, he's alive, for now."
Mud spattered up the backs of your legs, tripping through puddles, passing under rain-hush willows, Torii gates, and so many graves filled by his hand. His hands that you knew. His hands that knew you, so intimately, a body and soul so untouched by anyone else ever since and ever again.
"Nanami Kento. The Nanami Kento...scheduled for execution. Finally."
You reached corridors, a caretaker shouting in indignation as you tracked mud all over his freshly polished floorboards. You gained speed, running, ready for his face his hands his smell his eyes his body his heart and yours that was always his forever his still his--
"You shouldn't go in there." Your hand retracted so briefly over the handle of the door to the execution chambers. Feeling cold drip down your spine, not knowing if it was rainwater, sweat, or Gojo's voice behind you, you shivered. You felt him approach. A long hand on your shoulder; protective, apologetic, grieving.
"I...I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be this way. But you shouldn't go down there. He's...bad for you." You sniffed, straightening yourself, steeling against him. Gojo was so insignificant to you in this moment. "Are you keeping watch? Is there anyone else?" Gojo sighed, knowing better than to argue with you, feeling dread creep through him regardless. He leaned back on the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast. You heard your own heartbeat, amplified hummingbird's wings. You heard the rain, cleansing on the leaves, but weighing you down with your sin. You felt the thread on your finger, trapped beneath that door and running down the stairs.
"No. No, it's just me. I...understand. Whatever you want to do, I...I understand." You felt the ghosts in this corridor. You felt the footsteps long since gone. You felt the shadows of the other half of Gojo's soul. Ah, yes, you thought, raindrops running down your cheeks, you would understand, of course.
"There will be a gap in the guard. At midnight. Just five minutes. Ten, if you're lucky." Gojo turned, facing down the corridor. You could smell the regret. The weight of his own failures haunted him. He sensed your fingers grip the handle, squeezing down, taking your life into your own hands.
He would give you this, what he had prevented you from taking five years ago. He would not see another whole broken into halves. He would not regret, for a moment now or for years to come. Behind him, your other hand, cold and damp, reached out and squeezed Gojo's. He felt the farewell upon your skin. "Thank you, Satoru. I love you." "I love you, too. Be good." You wracked with need, trembling down those spiraled steps. They took you so deeply underground, that you could feel the earthen chill of ages past upon your skin, and you welcomed the death and rebirth, shedding the life you had left at the surface.
You knew Nanami Kento would, inevitably, be your downfall. And yet...you had shared a room with death so many times, now, that you would not fear him reaching for your hand. You paused near the bottom of the stairs, soaked in the soft orange glow of ten thousand illuminated paper charms. You felt him. He beat you to it. "I can smell you." Your knees almost buckled; that voice. It ran through you, spitting hot oil in cold blood. You flurried down the rest of the steps with numb feet, rounding the corner. The breath rushed out of you, into him, and he smiled at you, so much wider than he used to, all canines and white.
Nanami Kento was bound to a small chair, barely enough to hold the sheer width of him. In this short (long too long so long) five years, he had grown from a man, to a beast, his shoulders hulking and mountainous, scars littered across his forearms and collarbones.
His white shirt was bloodstained-- mostly someone else's, you assumed, but some from Kento himself. Kento was scuffed, bruised, red at the corner of his lip. His parting remained, disheveled from his capture. His harness, the brown leather soft and aged, strained against his chest and shoulders. His blunt blade rested, leant against the wall in a dingy corner of the room.
The only thing holding back what you knew would be Kento's enormous, overwhelming power, were the ropes that restrained him. You fingered at the blade of the Cursed tool in your pocket. He was...ethereally beautiful. You felt the last vestiges of yourself pass to him, blissfully unaware he would take so much more from you yet. His smile grew, eyes full of searingly cold ice, sneering at you as tears built in your eyes.
"You're crying for me?" He cooed, soft and mocking, "Why is that? You made your choice, all those years ago." "You were the one who left." "You were the one who stayed," he growled, lurching forwards against his bonds, chest heaving and straining, snarling. Expecting you to step backwards, instead, he felt the sick satisfaction of you stepping closer instead-- drawn in by his gravity. "You didn't give me a choice, Kento," you begged, shameless, "You didn't come for me. I couldn't find you." Kento huffed, scoffing, twisting against his restraints. "Fuck off," he scorned, spitting a wad of blood to the floor, "I came for you. The night I found you in Gojo's bed, of all people." You frowned, remembering the night Kento snapped and executed two dozen colleagues in his offices, years after leaving Jujutsu High. Remembering the news reaching you third-hand, through whispers in the corridors, as you had headed to Jujutsu High to see if anyone had heard from him. Remembering Gojo's grim confirmation, how you had collapsed in his arms, carved in two. Remembering how he had taken you home with him, tucked you into his bed, where you slept fitfully, alcohol-soaked to numb the nightmares. Your stomach filled with ice water. "You were-- you were there?" You choked, tears spilling over, "At Gojo's? You were there?" "Tell me," Kento commanded, his lip curled, "how many hours it was, after you heard? How many hours before you let Gojo Satoru fuck you like some desperate little whore? How many hours it was before I found you in his bed." You shook your head, brutally injured by his venom, punctuating him with sobs and denial as his voice rose.
"Three? Four? So devastated, it took another man fucking his seed into you before you could get over the loss of your lover? And you have the fucking audacity to come in here and cry over me?" Kento strained forwards, teeth bared as he sniffed deeply, breathing out with a satisfied smirk, a laugh, deep and smoky. "Can't smell him on you now, though," he mocked, filthy and merciless, "I thought he liked pathetic little scraps like you, but I suppose one fuck was enough to tell him you belonged to someone else, just as much as he did."
Kento already knew, of course, that Satoru would not have taken you even once. Kento felt his cock swelling against his thigh with your anguished begging. "Is that what he told you? To make you leave?" Your head swam with the revelation that Kento had come back for you, the rage that Satoru had lied and sent Kento away. You shook your head, dropping to your knees before him; desperate for his approval, full of dreadful fear of rejection.
"Nobody else," you pressed, crawling forwards and squeezing his thighs with cold little hands as he scoffed again, looking away, "ever. Kento. Ever, ever, for years. There won't ever be--" Kento suppressed his smirk, reeling you in after you bit so willingly. He leaned down to you, his cock twitching at the memory of the last time you knelt between his legs, looking up at him with wide wet eyes. He allowed his breath to ghost over your neck, seeing your skin prickle. He softened his face, nectar and promise in his eyes. "...you and Gojo...you didn't...?" His voice was soft, gentle, hopeful. Your head shot up, fingers digging deeper into his thighs as your eyes brimmed over again, thrilled by his belief, his trust in you. His lips were so close to yours, that you felt his hot ashen breath upon your tongue, dragon's fire, those whiskey-soaked eyes flicking across your face. God, if I'd known it would be this easy, Kento thought, maliciously possessive, I'd have let you find me years ago. His cock twitched at the feel of your hands clawing his thighs. He imagined fucking you down into the bed while you clawed at him, struggling, gasping and crying.
"Never," you promised, chasing his face with yours, while Kento withdrew just enough to maintain a teasing closeness, "he lied. He lied to you." Kento's cock twitched again, thirsty for your desperation.
Kento smiled again, that beautiful, cloud-parting smile, and you preened into him. He hummed, leaning forwards so briefly to brush his nose against yours. Your breath left you in a shudder as his voice passed over your lips;
"That's good...good girl. I couldn't bear to think of anyone else's hands on my beautiful girlfriend."
You sunk into his sudden warmth, your hands stroking up his thighs, his hips, up his ribs and shoulders. He allowed you to embrace him like this, for just a moment. Prickling with fear, you felt the frost form over him once more. Kento sneered again.
"...she's gone though, I think. Rotting here, festering with the dregs of Jujutsu Society. Willing to live and die a pawn. Scum. Less than scum."
Kento sighed, withdrawing from you fully, his back against the chair, turning his head as you tried to cup his jaw in your hands. He shook you off, face twisted with disgust. He was thrilled to watch a part of you shrivel and recoil, before reaching out harder, begging in fractured whispers, clawing for dry land.
"You had your chance. You're too wet for my life. You couldn't do what I do, live how I live. You couldn't lie, cheat, extort, torture, murder. You're too soft." Kento's lip curled in disgust as you pressed yourself between his legs, begging, beseeching, "To think of all the cum I wasted by fucking it into you." He hoped you couldn't feel him, hard and throbbing against your belly.
"--anything you want-- I'll do anything you want-- please--"
"Please what?" Kento shot, shaking the ropes around him with thick, scarred arms, "I'll be dead before dawn. And I want some peace and quiet. You're nothing to me now."
A part of you died, shattered by his rejection. Clapping a hand over your mouth, your shivers threatening vomit, you sat back on the floor, pressing your face into your knees, sobbing and abandoned for a second time.
"It's a shame," Kento scorned, tutting, "we were beautiful, once. But I'd rather die than have you be my only fucking option."
Kento felt you break, and it was delicious.
You shook within, panicking at his imminent second abandonment...but you were more determined than ever to prove yourself to him. You would sell your soul. You would sell the lives of your fellow sorcerers. You would sell your dignity, your self-respect, your whole being. Having Kento in any form, even this cold-hearted killer, was better than the agony of his death, where you would surely die with him.
From your pocket, hands shaking, you withdrew a blade; a special grade cursed weapon, stolen, illicit. You reached around Kento, breathing deeply of the sweat, sandalwood and copper tang on his skin. You pressed the blade into the hands bound behind his chair. You turned, hesitated...and walked away.
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You could not bear to return to your apartment. You had staggered past Gojo, reeling from Kento's biting rebuttal. You had wiled away the evening in some backwater ditch of a bar, sinking into spirits and self-loathing.
You waited to be found...by him, or by your colleagues, for execution as an accomplice to his escape. You didn't care anymore. You would die at his hands, or theirs, and cling onto that final shivering bliss of his bound body against yours. Even as a good man, he had always possessed you, more than you possessed yourself.
Walking to your door just after midnight, fumbling with the keys, you let yourself in, to spend a final night alone before your inevitable execution.
The alcohol numbed your senses, the darkness close around you. You did not feel his approach, this killer in the shadows.
All at once, you felt an enormous hand clasp over your mouth, and another pinning your wrists behind your back, tugging you backwards against a body, such an immovable chilly presence. A whisper, a tongue grazing against the side of your throat.
"I want you screaming...but not yet." You arched back into Kento's body, seeking a warmth he didn't have any more. The man you knew was long-since dead.
You felt his hand loosen, drifting slowly from your mouth, to your throat, squeezing just tightly enough to make your breath hitch, examining the length of your throat from the outside with a hum. You smelled the cigarettes and whiskey on his breath.
"I'm so proud of you," Kento purred, stepping you slowly through your apartment, pushing you towards your bedroom, "such a good girl...I knew you'd pass the test." Your heart swelled with his praise, but a lingering doubt soured the edges of your tongue.
"--how did you-- s'too early, Kento-- the guard--"
"Guard?" Kento laughed, booming with genuine mirth, "Some scrap of a boy in a beanie? Please. They'll find what's left of him in the morning."
"Oh--Ino--" you felt tears prickle on your lash line, your breath leaving you with a gasp as Kento tossed you face down on your bed. You tried to turn back to look at him, but felt his hand grip the back of your neck, shoving you roughly into the sheets. You shivered, fingers clenching as you heard the telltale clink of his belt undoing, the soft shhhk-shhhk-shhhk of Kento unthreading it from his waist.
"Oh, Ino!" Kento mocked, "Shut the fuck up, before I make you shut up," his voice pitched and ruthless. His face twisted as you trembled, noting smears of blood left by his hands on your wrists. You smelled the copper tang over his sweat and stale cologne. You knew you would never reject him, already wet with the promise of him coming back for you.
Kento softened momentarily, knowing he would struggle to fit inside you if you were scared and trembling. The faintest ghost of him wanted to pull you into his arms. The ice over his old soul knew he'd break if it cracked.
Kento crawled over you, his black trousers unzipped, cock straining against the tight fabric of his boxers. He clasped your hands, binding them with his tie to the head of the bed. You were so ready for him to take back what was his, that you didn't hear his next words, rumbling and gravelly on the back of your neck.".
"Keep still, and do as you're told. I'm sure you remember the old safe word...if I care to listen."
You felt your skirt forced up to bunch around your waist, heard a fabric rrriiip of your tights and underwear being shredded away from your core. Kento breathed heavily as he knelt above you, hooking his cock and heavy balls out, stroking himself with one thick hand as his fingers jabbed between your legs, sinking between your folds with little to no regard for your pleasure.
You jolted, squeaking against the sudden intrusion. Kento letting out another rich, smoky laugh as he sunk two thick fingers into your entrance.
"...ahhh, lovely. Can you warm my fingers up for me?" Kento laughed again, drawing out into a stilted growl as he jerked his cock eagerly to your tight wet walls around his digits. You panted into the sheets, Kento releasing his cock you squeeze your arse as he fucked you with his fingers, leaving bruising fingerprints before slapping the skin harshly, groaning as your fat jiggled, flushing with the abuse.
"-- better than some common whore...shit. Such a good girl...getting me out of there. Maybe I'll keep you around...just to fuck, my sweet little cocksleeve. Or are you better than that?"
"--anything, I'll be anything you want-- Kento-- please please take me with you please--" Pleasure burned in your belly as you heard the wet slaps of his hand, masturbating himself again to the sight of his fingers moulding you to the shape of him.
You filled with a burning need to be what he wanted you to be, so exhausted by life, so bitter and ready for someone else to take control. Kento did so, gladly, withdrawing his fingers to your disappointed groan. He slapped your backside again in punishment, once, twice, three times until you learned your lesson, biting your lip against your cries.
"You'll come on my cock, or not at all," he snapped at you, impatient, with his pre-cum dripping down your folds as his cock grazed at the entrance to your prone, bound body. He rammed his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to lick him clean, low voice husky with need at the feeling of your tongue swiping over him.
Pressing one hand down on the back of your neck, before raising it to yank sharply on your hair, Kento fucked into you without warning, pressing hard, to bottom out immediately. Your scream was choked, your neck hyperextended back at the insistent pull of your hair. Your body ached and strained against his use of you, and you revelled in it, in too deep to care about how wrong it was. You stung with the size of him, always big, and so much bigger without preparation.
"--haaaah fuck-- good girl...fuck you through it-- fuck you through it-- scream all you like-- been waiting for this for so long--" Kento crushed your body flush under his, so heavy that he forced the air out of you, making you lightheaded against the raw pleasure of his cock pounding into you without mercy, simply chasing his own orgasm.
Kento's skin electrified with the sinful joy of stealing pleasure from you, ripping his shirt and harness off over his head with a fractured growl. He gripped your bound hands, slipping a hand under you to squeeze your throat, his hips slapping into you with agonising bliss. He cursed and spat against the pleasure, demeaning you and praising you in equal measure.
Breathing hard and fast, Kento saw a bead of his sweat fall to the back of your neck, and leaned down to bite you there, hard, mounting you like an animal as he fucked you harder, faster. Your clit throbbed, untouched, but you lost yourself in the deep primal ecstasy coiling in your belly. You felt the telltale twitches of his thighs and abs against your legs and back, knowing from his frantic jagged moans that Kento was about to cum, before remembering--
"Ken--Kento--oooh--ooh, Ken," you cried, whimpering as his cock bullied against your cervix, "...'m not-- not on-- pull out Ken--"
Kento jerked and groaned, grinning that wide sharp-canined grin again, his laugh leaving him in ragged breaths as his balls drew up close, ready to spill; "--fuck...pull-out? Not a--haaah-- fucking chance, without the safe word, sweetheart." Kento fucked you faster, challenging you as your cock-addled brain clasped at straws, trying desperately to remember, fuck what was it--
Kento gasped, his orgasm starting to wash over him, "Too late," he jeered, and came with a broken hushed roar, rutting his cock inside you so his seed would spurt, coating you, thick and sticky, all over your deepest walls. Kento didn't give a shit that you hadn't come-- and neither did you, trembling and mewling as his length jerked thick heavy ropes inside you.
As Kento pulled out, breathing hard, pumping his length a few more times to spill his last drops of seed across your back, he huffed out a humourless laugh, running his hand back through his hair; "'Pull out'...you'll take what I give you, and be grateful." Kento scooped up some seed, dripping from your cunt, shoving it roughly back inside you.
"What fucking use are you," he spat, ramming his fingers in you until you sobbed, squirming around him, "if you can't even keep my cum inside you? Pathetic." Your breath hitched, tears spilling over at his brutal mockery. Seeing your tears, hearing the lump in your throat, Kento cooed at you, clasping your jaw in one thick hand.
"Oh darling...don't be sad...just be better." He slapped at your cheek a few times, too stinging to be tender, pressing a hot wet kiss just beneath your eye. He stood up, stretching, padding over towards the door.
"I need a drink." Kento mused aloud. You pulled yourself up the bed, still tightly bound, clamping your legs together to keep his cum inside and win his approval. You almost wept with the bitter ache in your shoulders and arms, how your pussy stung, how worthless he thought you were. You heard the clink of bottles and glass in the kitchen.
Kento returned, sitting in the chair at the end of your bed, naked, legs crossed, as he poured himself a full glass of whiskey. You could not see him, your face pressed into the pillow. You couldn't see the cold, impassive gaze upon your bound, shivering form. You couldn't see the way he idly played with his cock, slowly stroking life back into it as his cum glistened on your folds.
"Let's play a game," Kento proposed finally, as sleep began to creep across you, "and if you win, I'll take you with me. If you lose, I'll leave you here for the dogs." Kento took a long drink, draining his glass with a satisfied hum, his cock now half-erect against his thigh.
Your determination peaked again, so certain you could make things right, and make Kento love you like he used to. You were a void, yearning to be filled.
"Yes, I-- I can do it-- anything," you pressed, voice strong and bold now, eager to shed the shell he had left you in. Kento refilled his glass, almost to the brim, grinning wolfishly. He reached into your bedside drawer, tipping his head and raising his eyebrows at you with a smirk, withdrawing a vibrator, and a dildo.
"So confident," Kento teased, a shadow of the way he used to play with you when he was softer, more restrained. He couldn't deny the flicker of joy he had felt at the old you, briefly rearing her head.
Kento emptied his hands for long enough to flip you to your back, binding your arms to the bed again, ripping your shirt and bra open at the middle, exposing your breasts and belly. Kento grabbed your nipple roughly, yanking it until you squealed, slapping it hard with a gravelly chuckle.
"Don't spill my drink." Kento ordered, picking his glass up, placing it on your chest, between your breasts. You faltered, stock still, staring up at him, uncertain.
"...I-- what?" Kento's slim brown eyes burned down at you, teasing the dildo against your sloppy cunt, before ramming it into you. You instinctively moved to squirm away with a cry, understanding almost a moment too late, the meniscus of the whiskey kissing the lip of the glass. You stilled completely, shuddering at the cold rubber filling your cunt to the belly, squelching with Kento's cum.
Kento hissed between his teeth, face twisted with nasty glee. He looked so animated, so alive with this hedonistic torture, such a far cry from who he once was.
"Close," he taunted, leaning down to brush his lips over yours, pulling away as you moved to kiss him, satisfied to hear you swear under your breath as he denied you. Kento flipped the wand vibrator in his hand deftly, switching it on and clicking to max out the vibration.
"Don't...spill my drink." Kento repeated slowly, pressing the brutally vibrating wand directly against your clit.
You saw stars, your body moving to convulse reflexively, and you gritted your teeth, eyes fixed on the wobbling glass on your sternum. Your legs shook, the pleasure too harsh to be enjoyable, feeling yourself being unwillingly dragged towards a bone-wracking orgasm.
"Kento please-- please stop please please-- I can't do it I can't keep still I can't--" You babbled at Kento, tears streaming, certain he may not acknowledge your safe word even if you did squeeze it out. Only your desperation to win him back stopped you from even trying.
"Then die here." Kento shrugged, stroking himself again as he pressed the wand harder against your clit, thrilled to hear you scream in anguish. Your orgasm hit you with stunning force, harsh wracks of pleasure pounding through you as your body remained rigid. Still, the whiskey did not spill.
Your teeth gritted around your cries, and you met Kento's eyes with a ferocity that used to make him hard in seconds. His cock twitched in his hand in memory, pre-cum dripping down to wet his fingers. Baring his teeth in a snarl now, Kento knelt between your legs, grabbing the dildo and fucking it into you with harsh strokes, pressing harder with the punishing vibrations of the wand.
Your body was on fire, every part of you burning, from bruised bound wrists, to your feet, crackling with electric overstimulation. You cursed, spitting out tearful bile at Kento.
"--Kento-- stop it-- you fucking monster-- I hate you-- you fucking left me and I hate you so just stop it--"
Kento grinned, growling out as he continued his messy overstimulation of you; "There! There she is! That's my girl...make me proud!...shit, you're a mess. Don't spill it now." As another orgasm hit you, a primal hideous landslide, you screamed with your head thrown back, woefully unable to dissipate the pleasure through movement.
Suddenly full of unbridled rage, the years of grief and abandonment pouring out of you, you snapped, certain you wanted to hurt him as he had hurt you.
The glinting madness in Kento's eyes, the way his hand worked his rigid cock harder as he released his grasp on the dildo, now ramming it back into you with his knee...he wanted this. He wanted you pouring with spite. With rage. He wanted the venom and the hatred. He wanted the raw unbridled loyalty that you promised him through this humid obsession.
"--let me go-- KENTO. I'm warning you--"
Kento laughed, rich and earthy, as he gripped you by the throat, pinning you to the bed. Your body was exhausted, groaning, all bone-deep and guttural aches. By the time your third orgasm hit, you were floppy, the whiskey glass tilting on you just too sharply--
--before being snatched up by Kento, who drained it in one thirsty gulp. Pulling the sex toys out of you and tossing them aside, Kento moved to line his cock up with your entrance. Full of tearful anger, you kicked, hard, fighting back against him as he laughed, encouraging you-- "Fight me-- come on girl, COME ON--"
Kicking out again, spitting acid at Kento, berating him for leaving you, berating him for the twisted hatred you had endured alone for the miserable job you did, you cried, all bitter spite and loneliness. Kento caught your legs, forcing them open, pressing himself between them. He jabbed his cock between your folds as you squirmed, struggling up the bed, until Kento folded over you, grasping you by the back of the neck, and pulling you up for a searing kiss-- the first time you had tasted him in years.
Kento took advantage of your gasp, and invaded you with his tongue and cock, fucking sloppily between your legs, cursing into your mouth, until he met your entrance, slamming himself in to the hilt. Kento gripped you by the hips, thrusting into you while he slammed your pussy against him. He immediately set a feral pace, intent on claiming the last scraps of you, if he couldn't get you out of Jujutsu society alive. "--not gonna-- haaah-- let you die here-- fuck, good girl, good fucking girl, take it-- FIGHT ME--"
Every time you tried to buck and kick, and throw him out of you, Kento cupped your jaw, kissing you just like he used to, disarming you as you bit into his forearm planted beside your cheek. Kento kept up his punishing pace, reaching up to release the belt as he groaned into your throat, biting the delicate skin there. The briefest flicker of warmth passed over him, to feel your hands clutch at his chest, still trying weakly to push him off you. Kento reveled in your fight, your incessant struggling beneath him making his need to cum, to fill you again and make you his, urgent. You felt this in him, in his trembling arms and sloppy thrusts, all at once splitting you in two and completing you. Relenting, you allowed him to claim your mouth again, lips smooth and supple against yours, whiskey on his breath. Kento couldn't last any longer, and didn't want to; he finished with a broken rumble, all groans and whispered curses in your hair. Crushing you to the bed beneath his hulking body, you whimpered to feel his cock twitch and bound inside you, filling you again with sweet ache and seed. Kento rested on you, ignoring your gasping little breaths as you saw stars, buried beneath him. Swallowing away the lump in your throat, your mind swam with your fates; killed in battle or executed or on the run or hiding with filthy curse users or begging the higher-ups for mercy but all alone every one of them alone-- "...come with me." You blinked. Kento's back still heaved with exertion, his face buried in your neck. You felt a twinge, a prickle down your spine-- Cursed energy, approaching from a distance. "You have to decide...there's no time. I lie. I steal, and extort. I blackmail. I murder. I live in...in absolute luxury. You will never want for anything, while you're with me-- but you must be with me." You smiled. Another door had opened. Kento was the easiest decision you ever made.
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duskymrel · 27 days
Text
A Cold Touch
Synopsis: You have been sick for a few weeks and Malleus has been worried sick about you. However, he's pleased to find that you've had a sudden burst of energy! This must mean that you're getting better, right?
Reader is gender neutral and has been married to Malleus for a little over a year.
Tw: death :((
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Malleus sat at the meeting table, distressed that he had to be here and not by your side. He hated it. He hated it. It showed on his face, too. Everyone at the table felt the sweat beads roll down the napes of their neck under their king’s glower, eager to finish the meeting as soon as they possibly could.
You had been ill for several weeks at this point, and Malleus had been in a constant state of dismay over it. He fretted over you, bringing in every health professional he could from all over the region. Despite his demands, nobody could figure out quite what was wrong with you. They assured him, however, that you would be fine.
That didn’t stop him from worrying.
He felt a buzzing in his head as one of the diplomats from the kingdom beyond his blabbered on. Malleus knew this treaty was important to avoid war, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. Every second he wasn’t by your side was a second you could leave him. A second he wasn’t there to protect you. What if the forehead kiss he gave you before going this morning was the last he ever gave you? It plagued his mind, repeating like a broken record.
Finally, finally, the damned meeting was over. Malleus all but flew out of the meeting room, cape billowing behind him. He took a moment to compose himself outside of your shared room, for he never wanted to show you how troubled he truly was by your illness. It was the principle of the thing. He softly opened the door and entered, but found himself quite taken aback by what he found.
You had gotten out of bed by yourself and had photos scattered around you on the ground. He felt his heart grow lighter and walked over to you, sitting down. You glance up at him and smile brightly, with the energy he was used to seeing. It filled him with relief.        
“Hey, Mal-Mal. How did your meeting go?”
“Awful. I hated every second I wasn’t with you.” You laughed at that, that wonderful laugh that made him love you all the more dearly. The laugh was broken by a coughing fit and Malleus attempted to help you up and put you back in bed, but you waved him off.
“No, no, I’m fine. I feel better than I have in weeks, actually. See, I was just looking through some of my old photos!" Malleus looked at the photos you had laid out and smiled at the fond memories. There were photos from Night Raven, with all of your friends. Grim. Ramshackle. Graduation. He liked the ones from your wedding best. Being coronated after the wedding. The most recent photo was of the two of you celebrating your first anniversary. So many happy memories, so many years of your life laid out in front of you on the floor.
Malleus took your hand and kissed the inside of your wrist. He had taken to doing so recently, as the sickness had made you so cold to the touch, but your wrist remained warm. It reminded him that you were still here, with him. He looked up at you softly.
“I’m glad to see you with so much more energy today, darling. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“...Can I have a kiss?” Oh, who would deny such a simple request? Certainly not he, so he indulged your request and leaned in to give you one.
Malleus’ heart grew heavy as he kissed you, for suddenly he was struck with a foreboding feeling. Why, all at once, did you have all this energy that your illness robbed you of? He felt a chill go up his spine, but he pushed aside his unease. It just meant you were getting better, surely.
You were alive and well, he reminded himself. This was a good thing- he should enjoy it.
“It’s getting late, my love. You really should go to sleep to build up your energy.” Malleus took your hand and gently helped you up. You conceded and allowed him to help you into bed, grumbling a little. He then picked up all your photos and carefully placed them back in your box, just the way you liked it.
Then Malleus crawled into bed next to you and held you in his arms. The two of you talked for a long while, and he was pleased to see how full of energy you were. Perhaps he really was stressed over nothing and the doctors were right. You would be fine.
He didn’t allow himself to fall asleep until you did, something he had done throughout the entirety of your relationship. As his eyes drifted shut, he smiled to himself. You were going to get better.
You were going to be okay.
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Malleus blinked his eyes open, sunlight peeking through the curtains directly onto his face. He could see outside a bit. It was your favorite kind of morning: sunny, warm, and the sounds of life could be heard outside. Perhaps you might be feeling well enough to go on a walk with him. He closed his eyes again and rolled over to face you.
“Good morning, love.” He took your hand and pressed a kiss to your wrist, smiling softly. Then his eyes flew open.
Your wrist was cold.
Malleus scrambled up, looking at your face. You looked like you could just be asleep. After all, you looked so incredibly peaceful. You looked paler than usual, but then again you had been pale since you first got sick.
He raised a shaky hand to your nose, but felt…. Nothing. No breath. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest with how hard it was pounding. He could hear nothing but the blood rushing through his ears. He felt for a pulse. Nothing. Laid his head on your chest. Nothing.
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
He felt the world tilt. He gripped your shoulders and shook you desperately. He could barely hear his own screaming over the heartbeat in his ears. He shrieked your name so loud that servants burst open the door and rushed in. He paid them no notice. He paid no more notice when Lilia, Silver, and Sebek rushed in.
Malleus held you close to him, crying into your shoulder. His screams echoed through the halls of his palace and sent chills down the backs of those who could hear it. Lilia hesitantly stepped forward, gently laying his hand on Malleus’s shoulder.
“Malleu-”
“EVERYONE OUT.” Lilia flinched back, but nodded to the others. They all left, leaving Malleus alone to clutch onto you.
It felt as though he was being swallowed whole, like the very essence of his being was crashing down upon him. He had been a broken man, and you had taken the time to piece him back together again. The irony of you being the one to break him into smithereens all over again was almost palpable.
You had been Malleus’s rock, his anchor that brought him back to his humanity. But in the end, you became his Achilles' heel.
How long did he sit there, holding you in his arms, begging you to come back to him? He wasn’t sure. But at some point the numbness began to set in, slowly seeping through his veins like poison. An icy grip squeezed Malleus, and he finally had to admit it to himself: you were dead.
Malleus held your lifeless body close, unable to believe that he would never hear you laugh again, never kiss you again, never get to grow old with you. All he could feel was his heart breaking with every passing heartbeat, and for the first time in his long life, he could not summon the will to go on.
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When was the last time I even wrote anything. 💀
Idk anyways I got the idea from this from a thing my bestie @meltedbuttersblog wrote!! Totally check out their blog btw they're wonderful.
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seretoningghost · 4 months
Text
Mike Schmidt x Male Reader
TW : SMUT (car sex), blood tasting (its mild just from a scratch and is rlly breif).
(This is where everyone would put a gif of the character but there were zero of him.)
Mike was panting loudly and constantly.
The look on his face pure lust as he chased his orgasm.
Drool dripping down his chin.
The air was unbearably hot. It made your skin practically boil.
His knuckles white as he had a hand up to the roof of the car - arm from wrist and elbow pressed on the roof, shuddering muscles threatening to pull the fabric from the roof.
Loud wet slaps being heard each time Mike went down.
His usual attire on, but his pants were pulled down just enough to expose his crotch as he vigorously rode you.
Causing a odd straddle as he struggled to do so because of his pants, but the moment was so strong he didnt care.
He was mostly angry it prevented him from riding properly, withholding pleasure from him.
You were slightly reclined in the passenger seat, the both of you in your car.
This was the first time you two were alone in a while.
A whine bubbled in Mike's throat, getting progressively upset at how he couldn't ride well. Feeling the anger build and twist a knot in his stomach.
Making him feel even more aggitated and icky.
Panting relentlessly as he takes a pause, shifting his right hand on the roof. Shifting slightly on your lap, putting his left hand on the passenger side window.
His hand smudging the fogging glass.
Not even saying a word before he began to ride intensely just like before, trying desperately to get the two of you to release.
The lack of sleep evident on Mike's face as he rode you, but he missed you so much.
Him having been busy with his new job lately.
"Mike.." You whimpered breathlessly.
Mike felt a pang of lust haphazardly rattle its way quickly up his spine, eyes showing love and bliss.
He gave a soft moan.
A smile making its way on his face, drool intensifying.
Clearly a after affect of his sleep deprivation, but you knew Mike. He didnt want to stop.
Panting you ran your hands from his knees, to his hips. Gripping tightly - knowing how much Mike liked that.
Mike shuddered hard, blissing out.
Always loving how right your hands felt on him. In every nook and cranny, it felt like he was make for you. Your hands were so much bigger than his.
Mike shifted his left hand on the window, it slamming against the window.
Your half surprised Mike hasn't broken anything in your car before. You know your car isnt built for sex, but this wouldn't be the first time.
You kept whimpering, gasping, and moaning his name. Knowing how much his sleep drunk mind loved it.
Mike would occasionally squeak in response, trying to force words out of his brain. Just doing the best he could instead.
Mostly moaning between pants.
Your car creaking underneath you two. The car shaking and jumping at your rough fucking, even while in park and shut off.
Mike didn't care of course.
Just like every other time he coaxed you to step out from the drivers seat, stepping out and waiting for you to sit before sitting on your lap. You pulling the door shut once he got on.
The windows were practically all fogged up with your two's passionate fucking.
You could tell Mike was getting desperate as he loomed over you, keeping eye contact.
Sliding one hand up his shirt a bit, you pivoted your hips. Thrusting up each time he bounced down.
Mike moaned loudly, not muffling or holding his voice.
Back arching at the pleasure as your cock pounded into multiple deep nerve endings.
He whimpered loudly, pushing his body down on your chest.
Arms placed on your chest. Although your not sure if him changing his position was intentional or not, pondering if he had perhaps collapsed on you.
But he clutched onto you for dear life anyways, constantly tugging you closer even though you were as close as you could get.
You grip tighter onto the points your hands were on, panting loudly and whimpering as you began to pound into Mike.
Mike had his face pushed against the crook of your neck, moaning and whimpering noisily in his throat.
If you could have seen his face you would be able to see how utterly fucked out he was, eyes full of lust - exhaustion evident in both as he seemed out of it.
Drool pouring everywhere - even onto you, and a dopey grin on his face, interupted by the occasional moan or whimper.
You groaned, biting your lip you were determined to bring release to your beautiful boyfriend.
Humping into him as quickly as you could, a whimper getting caught in your throat at how close you felt.
Eyes widening at the boiling knot tieing itself in your stomach, achingly getting tighter.
Panting loudly in Mike's ear.
"M-Mike..." You whimpered.
"I-I... I-Im... I...... p-please.." You panted, whimpering to yourself at the end.
Mike shuddered, back arching into you, tugging tight at your shirt with white knuckles. Begging for more, trying to express his urgency for you.
Jacket zipper jankling as you pounded him.
But you were fucked out of it at this point, already suspecting Mike was close by the non stop whimpering in your ear that started up when you began to whimper.
Sliding your left hand down to his hip you slid your right up onto the middle of his back.
Accidentally sliding your hand in his shirt, clawing your nails against his skin.
Mike quivered, letting out a low slutty moan at the new sensation.
Eyes glossing out, maybe he liked it? He didn't know, you've never done that before.
He could hear you growling now, digging your fingers into his skin, still thinking you were clutching his shirt.
But with this grip on his back you kept him firmly in place, making him all the more fuckable.
Release was so close, both of your cores bubbled with excitement.
Your bodies and the air overwhelmingly hot.
When suddenly the knots slacked, both of you making pleasured noises as you came.
Mike doing so all over your shirt, yours being felt in the pit of Mike's gut.
Quivering he felt amazing, thighs shuddering. It was so hot inside him.
Panting loudly you gradually slowed your thrusts, riding out both of yours highs.
Before the two of you laid there, Mike still on your chest as you both panted.
Still absently tugging on your shirt as he slowly focused back in.
Your hand on his back suddenly untensed, you gave a soft groan. Gently sliding your hand down his side, seems you still didnt notice you dug into his flesh.
"Mm... Baby.." You purred quietly, tilting your head against his - still pushed into your neck.
Mike whimpered quietly in return, body still buzzing even as his eyes and brain were finally focusing in.
Occasionally quaking from aftershocks.
You rubbed his hips gently, before slowly pulling your cock out.
Mike gasped, body fluttering at the emptiness.
A bit of your cum dripping out, Mike was reminded of how scalding hot his insides were thanks to you.
"F-f...mmhh.. F-fuck.." He whimpered quietly.
"You feeling better?" You whisper, rubbing your left hand on his back.
"Y-yeah.... B-back... Thighs... Ache..." He whined, smiling softly against your neck.
You chuckled, going to rub your hand over his back, him jolting as your hand stung over his wound.
"A-Ah! O-ouch.." He whimpered, clutching tighter onto your shirt.
You pulled your hand away with a jolt, only to see a few drops of blood on your fingerprints. Eyes wide you noticed a few drops clawwed under the tips of your nails.
"Aw shit did I-" You began, quickly prying a small hand held mirror from off of your air vents.
Angling it to see his back, sure enough there it was - delicate skin rippling as Mike breathed, clear claw marks pressed into his skin.
Drawing a slight bit of blood.
"Ah fuck... I'm sorry Mike.." You groaned, upset you would be so careless.
Mike tried to wrack his sleepy bed for some sort of 'its okay, I think I liked it' reply without disclosing the 'I liked it' especially when he wasnt entirely sure just yet.
But instead just gave up, giving a soft groan against your throat to tell you it was alright.
But it seemed more like he was annoyed to you, that he was too engrossed before and didn't realize you did it. Probably more annoyed he had to deal with that while on his job now.
You sighed, silently scolding yourself as you tossed the mirror in your driver seat.
Running your right hand through Mike's hair.
Mike lifted his head, looking at you now.
Before grabbing hold of your hand and holding it still, lapping his tongue at the blood.
Eyes wide you stare.
There was so little blood that it hardly stained his tongue for more than a second.
Mike gave a soft smile, lapping up more blood. Exhaustion evident in his eyes.
"Mm... Metally..." He whispered.
You watched, flabbergasted.
"Mike... You need sleep." You sighed.
"...hmm..." Mike hummed, laying against your chest.
You shuddered, realising his movement brought a gust of air.
It fanning against your slobbered neck, slightly cringing at it. But you didnt say anything.
His chest rumbling against yours as he made a incoherent sound.
"Mike, noo, not yet babe." You groaned, sitting up, hugging Mike to your chest.
He groaned groggily, eyes slowly blinking open. Dissapointed you sat up.
You leaned forward, moving his body with you as you opened the glove compartment.
Grabbing a few tissues you clean both of you up. Shimmying on your own pants, and then Mike's.
Mike's half asleep again.
You reclined the back seats, putting Mike on the small mattress in the trunk.
Which was a serious challenge considering you didnt take Mike out of the car.
Although he did sleepily help you a bit.
You laid down next to him, cuddling him.
The car was progressively getting colder already, the two of your curled up in the back - cuddling.
You pulled a few blankets over you both.
(Also sorry, I'm a huge FNAF fan and have been forever, but I havent seen the movie yet. D: big sad. But there's just something about Mike, I've practically spoilt myself to the whole movie so Idk man. Kept this vague so it could probably stick better the to character, just felt like writin car sex.)
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dark666posting · 3 months
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Obsession
TW: NON-CON, NON-CON, NON-CON *** Flayed Billy, dark!Billy
Oops I started this story in like 2022 lmao. Here it is, more Flayed Billy™️
Happy New Year!!!
"Yeah? Well, next time you want your dick sucked, you can call Mrs. fucking Wheeler!" You screamed into the car before slamming the door with all your strength. You successfully held back tears as you stomped away from your now ex-boyfriend's car and shoved through your front door. In the Camaro, Billy sat fuming.
A common occurrence for him on the job is to flirt frequently with the older, married women. He never intended on going anywhere with it, until he did. And he got caught pretty quickly after. Billy's mommy issues tied him to the maternal comfort of older women, but you were the only woman he cared about. The only woman he wasn't letting get away. Breaking up certainly wasn't an option whether you knew it or not.
Billy tried to mentally talk himself down before he followed behind you. Your parents are out of town for the week, so he doesn't worry about being stopped.
"Y/N, can we please talk about this? I don't know what you think you saw-" his gaslighting is cut off.
"I know what I saw! Get the fuck out of my house!" You yell, throwing a book in his direction. The two of you weren't strangers to getting physical with each other.
"Hey!" Billy dodges the book, quickly turning to face you again. A look of pure anger is plastered on his face, but he remains poised as best as possible. "Darling, I am trying to fix this. We aren't breaking up." His voice trembles with the strain of withholding his rage.
"We are broken up. This is fucking over." You've never backed down from him before and you didn't plan on starting today. "As of right fucking now, Hargrove, I am single."
"Oh, you're single?" His voice is quiet and he's eerily calm compared to his struggle earlier. He steps toward you and at first, you stand firm, but the closer he gets, the more you shuffle backward. "You're single?" He asks again, expecting a response.
"Y-Yes. Just like you pretended to be." Billy slaps you across the face quicker than you could register, knocking you to the floor. "What the fuck?!" You clutch your cheek as a fiery sting spreads across your skin.
"Let me show you what happens to sluts that don't have boyfriends to protect them." He grabs you by your hair and damn near drags you to the couch. You kick and fight, doing everything in your power to loosen the pull on your scalp.
"Billy, stop!" You scream as he wrestles you onto the couch. He's exceptionally strong and you are no match.
"Look at you. This isn't even hard for me. You need me to protect you or else someone could have his way with you any time he wants." Billy's voice sounds like a taunt. He successfully pins your wrists together under one of his hands and the other starts to roughly rub your cunt through your jeans.
"What the fuck? Let me go, what are you doing?" You squirm and jerk away from him, feeling panic and pleasure as his hand creates friction against you. "Billy, please stop!" Tears well in your eyes. You've never seen him like this, and he doesn't seem to be letting up. He stares down at you with a blank, serious face. You beg him repeatedly with your eyes, wishing you would've just locked the door behind you.
"You're not safe without me. I have to show you." Billy's emotionless expression sends chills down your spine. It's like any part of him that held morals or empathy has been completely shut down.
"No, please," you whimper, but to no avail. Billy slips his hand in your pants, past your panties, slipping a long, nimble finger between your folds. You release a yelp, earning a small, short-lived smirk from Billy. He continues to delicately rub your clit, you melt into his touch before something seems to click in his mind.
"But this is how your boyfriend would touch you. Look how wet you are, you love it. Now I'm gonna show you how a whore gets fucked." Suddenly he tears his hand away, leaving you silently begging for contact. He effortlessly slips your pants from your body and tears your skimpy tank top in half, leaving you in nothing but your panties. You blush as your exposed breasts bounce from Billy's rough treatment.
You assume he's just going to keep toying with you. Another attempt to win you over with an orgasm as he had plenty of times before, even if this was a bit scarier. You're torn from your thoughts when you hear the sound of his belt buckle jingling against itself.
Your eyes go wide as he reveals his throbbing erection. He looms over you, stroking himself as he drinks in the image of you trembling beneath him.
"Billy, I don't want to have sex. Get out of my house. We aren't gonna fuck and pretend we're fine anymore-" he stuffs his length down your throat, cutting you off.
"I don't know how to make it any clearer for you, Y/N. You're too fucking stupid to realize what's happening. It's almost cute." Billy plugs your nose, effectively cutting off all your oxygen as he holds your head against him despite your arms swatting at him for dear life.
It finally dawned on you, that this was not his usual roughness and inability to take "no" for an answer. And you weren't about to get away from him. Panic takes over, controlling your next move. You try to kick and swat him away, but he's inhumanly strong. Stronger than what you're used to, you realize. When he finally allows you to take a breath you look up at him with watery eyes.
"Billy, please," you garble through the drool pooling in your mouth. Your jaw aches from the invasion.
"If you're not mine, I'll make sure nobody wants you," he growls as his expression grows darker. His eyes seem like they belong to someone else and small, black veins rise all over his skin. He looks like a monster, a creature you can't describe. You release a horrified scream before he jerks you from the couch and slams you down on the hardwood floor. Your head smacks the wood with a sharp thud, knocking your vision unsteady.
"Baby, listen. I-I'm sorry. Let's just fuck and make up, okay? Like we always do," you try so hard to reason with him as a sharp ache echoes through your skull. You're petrified, certain he's contracted some sort of rabies-like illness causing this outburst.
"Something's... Happening, Y/N." Billy stares off into the distance, looming over you. "I just... I just need to hurt you." The black, spidery veins beneath his skin grow darker as he admits his intentions.
"Please," you sob uncontrollably. "Please don't hurt me, baby." Billy ignores your pathetic pleas and stares down at your exposed supple chest. A primal, starving sigh exits his body and in the blink of an eye, his large, powerful hand is clasped tightly around your throat. You wheeze and gag, but to no avail, your oxygen is completely cut off. You're certain that with any more effort, he'd crush your windpipe like an empty soda can.
Billy's free hand slaps your breasts around and roughly tugs at your hardened nipples. Each touch he lays on you is sharp and jarring, devoid of any amount of love and care he barely showed even on a good day. You're clawing at his hand around your neck, turning all new shades of purple and blue and he holds you down. Slowly, your hits become weak and sloppy and your vision fades from blurred to black.
Once you're out cold, he tosses your unconscious body over his shoulder and lugs you into your bedroom. Not to be kind or show you any kind of comfort or mercy, but because the bed is the perfect height for him to splay your legs open and tear you to pieces.
He carelessly tosses you into the mattress, stroking himself as he watches you lie there, seemingly lifeless, wearing nothing but a pair of white lace panties. Those are short-lived as he effortlessly snaps the fabric from your body. You're his, completely. He wastes no time toying with you since you're already unresponsive, so he positions his cock at your entrance and shoves himself inside.
He's rough and unyielding as he bucks into you, forcing your body to lubricate his erection for easier access. You're still unconscious, unknowingly being fucked by your ex-boyfriend. He huffs and grunts like a wild animal, continuously readjusting his hands around your body parts for more leverage.
Your legs are lazily tossed over his shoulders, and he holds your wrists to pull you against him with each thrust. Suddenly, you wake up. All the violent fucking you'd endured before waking up seems to hit you all at once and you release a pained cry. The sound of your distress elicits a vulgar moan from Billy.
"Please, no! Billy, stop!" You whine, writhing and squirming against him, only stimulating him further. He moans some more, clearly approaching his climax. Finally, somehow, you're able to angle your leg to kick him away. You land a sharp, calculated kick to his jaw and he stumbles backward, giving you time to take off down the hall.
Billy screams your name like a monstrous roar, tearing through your home to chase after you. He knocks over shelves and side tables, breaking a lamp in the process. Your house looks ransacked. When he rounds the corner and spots you again, you're struggling to get the door open, loud sobs hiccup from your chest, and tsunamis of tears fall from your eyes.
"You're fucked now. That was me being gentle." He cracks his knuckles before slowly, confidently approaching you. You scream again in fear before finally getting the lock to unlatch. You frantically spill out the door and onto the porch. You're nearly off the last step when he grabs you by your hair, yanking you backward into him.
"Billy, no. Billy-" Your words fall out of you quickly with a more collected, serious tone to them as you begin to panic. You don't know if he's going to continue fucking you, or just kill you here on the front lawn. It's dark and your house is a little more secluded than most, something you saw as a good thing until tonight.
Billy holds you by the wad of your hair he's wrapped his hand in and your wrist, keeping you pressed flush against his broad, muscular body.
"I just need to hurt you." He echoes his own words before shoving you cruelly to the ground. You land on the front of your body with barely any time to catch yourself. The rough grassy yard is less than pleasant when it catches you. Billy swiftly climbs on top of you, pinning your arms behind your back and pressing his bulge against your ass.
He forces himself back inside your abused cunt and ruts into you like his life depends on it. You're right next to a road, but it's so late, that it'd be nearly impossible to see someone pass by at this hour. Until they do. You spot a set of headlights coming down the road and you try to thrash around to get their attention. Billy notices this attempted call for help and buries your face into the ground, continuing his mission.
As the car draws closer, you realize that it is too dark for you to see the thick shrubbery completely concealing you and Billy from the road. The car drives right past and you release a quiet sob into the dirt.
"No one's coming for you, Y/N," he growls between thrusts. Finally, his rhythm begins to waver. His breathing becomes labored and unsteady and he finally slams into you one last time, filling you up for a moment before he pulls out and finishes cumming all over your back and in your hair. He lays a brutally aggressive slap on your ass cheek and leaves you there. You hear his car start and pull out of the driveway, all the while you remain on the ground.
Silent, blank-faced tears fall down your face. You manage to peel yourself off the ground and drag yourself inside before the sun begins to rise. You sit in a warm bath, still in shock when you realize your hand is wandering to the sore opening between your legs. You can't help but relive every second he tore into you. You don't understand this feeling, but it brings you to orgasm in mere minutes.
The rest of the night you're anxious and afraid. Afraid he'll come back, or worse, afraid he won't. You recall all the parasitic veins spreading over his skin and you shudder. He's not well, and you were merely a casualty of that.
He just needed to hurt you.
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loveofastarvingdog · 2 years
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shaking and sobbing and biting with my teeth 
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emeraldborealis · 2 months
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You Never Left
Pairing: Captain John 'Soap' MacTavish x GN!reader
TW//CW: Angst, mention of torture, reader is held captive, blood, hallucinations, gender neutral pronouns but use of lass/lassie, no use of y/n, my attempts of writing a Scottish accent.
A/N: My first time writing COD, an entry for @glitterypirateduck 's SoapItUp challenge.
Prompts used: 14. I've been looking for you. 10. I won't let anything happen to you. 20. Just a little more. 11. I'll take care of you.
Part Two
Words: 2,490
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The fan blades incessantly spun above you, cutting out the only source of light in the room, plunging you into total darkness before bathing you in blinding light over and over again, moving at a speed that your eyes could never fully adjust to the light or the darkness.
It was proving to slowly drive you insane. A way to keep your senses constantly disoriented.
You'd lost track of how long you'd been stuck here, sometimes unsure if you were even still alive or if even the grim reaper had forgotten to come collect you.
The only indicator you had that you were even still a person was the cool metal of the chair you were tied to, and the grounding pain of the rope tied too tight biting into your raw wrists.
Pain, constant pain of some kind was all you could even feel.
It wasn't supposed to be like this, it was a simple recon mission, supposed to have been an in and out thing, but everything had gone horribly wrong, bad mission intel, and trusted the wrong sources.
And when push came to shove you were left behind to save the rest of the team, a necessary loss.
The sound of footsteps approaching didn't elicit fear in you like it had once, it was nothing but the announcement of more pain.
It didn't matter anymore, eventually you'd die from the beatings, the dehydration, the starvation, the rats were placing bets on which would come first so they could nibble on your corpse, waste not want not.
A tingling sensation ran up your spine at the sound of the heavy metal door creaking open, two men walking in.
"C'mon lass, chin up. Don't give them the satisfaction of ye giving up." A familiar phantom of a voice rang in your ears, but he wasn't here. Not really. Still, the echo of falsities gave you strength. The desperation to truly hear that voice again.
"Not dead yet, are we?" A forceful grip grabbed your chin, tilting your head up. The sudden movement puts spots in your vision, the taste of blood strong in your throat and mouth. "Hand me that rag." Your captor spoke to his companion, who quickly supplied the rag.
"Here you go sir." You didn't recognize this man, he was younger, probably new, fresh out of whatever training a terrorist group like this gives their soldiers.
"Let's get you cleaned up, your soft face is being obstructed by all this blood of yours." Your captor spit on the rag and got to work roughly wiping under your broken nose, making you wince. "Hush, I'm taking good care of you, if you handle this well maybe I'll even reset your nose properly."
You didn't say anything, you didn't have anything to say. You knew the routine, he'd come in here, beat you within an inch of your life, leave you for a few days then come back acting sweet, just to clean you up in the roughest way possible.
"Sir, why do we even keep them?" The new guy asked a bit meekly, blinking his eyes weirdly, clearly getting annoyed by the fan blades too.
"Just what the higher ups want, they think they have intel. So don't question it." He hissed at the younger boy, rubbing with the scratchy dirty rag at a cut on your cheek, somewhere the skin had split open from one of his punches. The bone was probably fractured, it definitely needed stitches or butterfly bandages.
You had to fight yourself from blacking out, the pain almost blinding with the way he was assaulting already searing wounds. "Stay wi' me." John urged, his voice nothing short of a command, spoken in his harsh captain voice.
"This is your own fault, remember that. If you hadn't tried to escape, things would be better for you right now." Your captor taunted you, holding your cheek and rubbing your cut with his calloused thumb, picking away any remaining scabbing the rag didn't remove to keep you bleeding.
Keep the wound from healing and closing.
Truthfully it was foolish to try and escape, the echoes of the memory replaying in your mind like a drum, the patter of your bare feet running on the cold harsh ground of the hallways, not knowing where to even run, which way was the exit, relying solely on the voice of John guiding you.
"No' that way." He'd warned, the strange shadow of him blocking the way down a hallway. "Go that way." He'd pointed another way, and you'd followed, listened.
Each step you took sent another wave of pain through you, but you'd persisted. "Stop." John spoke directly into your ear, making you halt, hearing a set of footsteps you previously hadn't before.
They were coming your way, you couldn't turn around. You were out of options. "Run, go. Noo." And you'd listened, putting every ounce of yourself into your shaky sore legs, running like mad in the way you'd hoped was the exit.
And it was.
You'd made it an entirety of five steps out and away before being tackled and dragged back inside, you'd screamed your vocal cords to shreds, screamed until you'd tasted iron in your lungs. But the pain in your throat didn't compare to the punishment you'd gotten for your attempt of escape.
"Where did you think you'd go? I mean really. Your team left you a long time ago, remember? They abandoned you, saw you as less than and tried to save themselves. They aren't ever going to come back for you. You're going to die here." Your captor reminded you, patting your head, snapping you back to the present.
Maybe he was right, you were going to die here. They weren't coming back for you. You were never going to make it out of here. You knew that from the beginning.
But yet you kept pushing, being told to hold on, being called back from the brink of death by the only ounce of hope you had left, your Johnny. He'd shown up at some point after your capture, probably the result of one too many punches to your fragile face.
"We'll be back later, try and think real hard about what we want from you, if you just tell us what we want, I promise to make your end painless, no more of this. You won't have to see my face again." Your captor pulled away, proposing the idea of death as a tender mercy. Maybe it would be. "Remember who left you here, loyalty means nothing when they're the reason you're here."
He made a point, but even still. You wouldn't talk, because they never really left you. John- Johnny, was still here with you.
Dozing off events from your early capture would replay in your mind, the bumpy blind rides you'd been on with a sack over your head, being moved locations several times before ending up in what your captor liked to call your 'tomb'.
You didn't know how long it was waiting for your captor to come back, hours, maybe days. He liked to leave you in anticipation.
But he never came back.
The sounds of gunfire and explosions sounded like nothing but another distant memory.
The sound of the heavy metal door creaking open would always bring a chill up your spine, something trained and beaten into you, to fear that sound.
You didn't care to look up, too much exhaustion and dehydration weighing your head down, you knew who it was. He'd move your head for you to force you to look at him. "I've been looking fur ye."
The sound of his voice, his actual voice, brought your bloodshot eyes to wander up to the door, landing on your captain who was already directly in front of you, kneeling to cut your binds around your feet.
Your eyes desperately raked over him, the scar on his cheek, the curve of his nose, the stubble on his face, his ears you liked to nibble on in secret, his Adam's apple, his broad shoulders.
Back up to his blue eyes, the blue eyes you'd looked into so often you'd memorized each fleck of lighter blues against darker blues, something so beautiful that you'd never been able to put them into words. You drank all of him in.
"Are you real?" Your voice croaked out, sounding hoarse and shaky, it was barely recognizable as your voice, but the pain that accompanied it proved to you that it was indeed your voice who asked.
"Aye, aye lassie, I'm real." The state of you made him take pause, pressing his forehead to yours, gently holding the nape of your neck to bring you closer to him. He needed to acknowledge for just a moment you were alive before he moved behind you to cut the rest of your binds.
The ropes holding you to the chair were all that were keeping you up, when they were cut you were released, he had to rush to catch you before you could hit the floor. "Easy. I got ye. I won't let anything happen to ye." Holding your shoulders he moved around you to face you again, pulling his canteen out for you. He brought it to your cracked, dry lips to give you some water, careful not to drown you all at once. "I'm getting ye out o' here."
Once he was satisfied with the small amount you drank he grabbed you by the arm, hauling you over his shoulder to carry you out.
Everything was a bit hazy, the whole way out, you could identify the sounds of your other teammates voices, the sounds of the helicopter, a prick in your arm, and coolness spreading in your veins, but nothing was clear. Nothing but the fact you were safe.
Things didn't become clear until you were opening your eyes, hearing an irritable beeping sound, a steady rhythm. Looking down at yourself your wrists were bandaged, two IV's in your right arm, one in your hand, the other on the inside of your elbow.
"Yer awake." A hand came to gently touch your head, coming in gentle contact with one of the bandages there.
Despite the fluids being brought back into you through the IV's your throat still ached with dryness, your captain seemed to take notice of it, quickly moving to bring you some water, gently holding a straw to your lips so you could drink.
The coolness of the water worked to both soothe your throat and highlight the pain there. You Pulled away but John didn't seem quite satisfied yet. "Just a wee bit more." He urged, and you complied.
After that some nurses and doctors came in to check on you, completing their rounds and making sure all was well with you and that you were comfortable, well, as comfortable as you could be.
John stayed the whole time, and after the nurses and doctors left he remained, a silence between you two.
He ran his hand over his mohawk, it was cut recently, a little shorter than the last time you saw it, a testament of just how long you really have been gone.
"I'm sorry, I never meant tae leave ye." His voice sounded a bit pained, trying to clear his guilty conscience.
"You never left. I always heard you, shadows all around me, prickles on the back of my neck. Your voice pushing me. Picking me up. When all the colors were black, you're the reason I'm still alive." It hurt to speak still, but you needed to get it out, it did little to comfort him, if anything making him look more worried.
"Love, I'm sorry. It shouldn't have been ye. Anyone but ye. Me. It should have been me. Not ye." He slipped from his chair, kneeling beside you, clutching your left hand with desperation, but gentle enough not to hurt you. He kissed your hand, over and over, each knuckle, each little mark, scar, bandaged blister, callous, everything.
It hurts to move your right arm with the IV's, not to mention the overwhelming weight of your bones. But you needed to, bringing your hand to gently rub his head, feeling his short hair, running along the slightly longer mohawk, grounding both of you with the sensation.
"It's not your fault. Everyone would have died if you stayed, it was a necessary sacrifice. A call I would have told you to make." Your hand slipped from his head, feeling too exhausted to be able to keep it there.
"I spent so many nights desperately searching fur ye. The only thing- the only thing that kept me going wis the thought of finding ye. I needed tae find you." Hearing his voice, really hearing his voice was something so grounding and comforting to you.
The familiar rumble and fluctuations, the Scottish accent that's mellowed out over the years of service, adjusting with hearing other's accents for so long, a lot of his slang being replaced by slang in the areas he spent time, his accent becoming a shell of what it used to be, changed so he could be easily understood. But ever present.
"You did, you found me. I'm okay. I'll be okay now." You had to say it out loud to reassure yourself that you weren't still tied to that cool metal chair, the fan blades spinning overhead, always waiting for the next dose of pain to bring you closer to the edge of blackness. Death.
Recovery sounded almost impossible, you were sure you'd never fully get over what happened to you, that the psychological as well as physical scars would always remain.
Taunt you with each flickering of light, the sound of metal, the taste of iron, each time you closed your eyes you were sure you'd see your captor, his interrogations and questions would always repeat like a broken record in your head.
But you yourself weren't broken, you made it through.
"I swear I'll never let ye go again, I'll take care of ye. Till my very last breath. I'll spend the rest of my life atoning for the pain I put ye through by leaving ye there." His words were spoken with absoluteness, a testimony more than a promise.
"Just never stop speaking to me and I'll be alright, as long as your voice is here to ground me I'll make it through." His blue eyes bore into you, they were soft, filled with longing.
It was so stupid to fall for your captain, not to mention against so many rules, even more stupid for him to fall for you too. There was only one way this could end, you were lucky this time. But who's to say you will be next time?
You shook the thought from your head, pulling him weakly with your left hand up to you, kissing him softly. He was hesitant at first, scared of hurting you, but he melted into it. Relishing having you back safe. 
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