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jujutsukgojo · 1 month

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Boy on the throne

gangster sukuna x reader

Chapter One

Summary:

I told you before, didn’t I?” An intense feeling of dread enters the room. Your heart is beating furiously. All you wanted was to watch Shrek, not see this. Not see this dim room with a weeping man on the floor and two of Sukuna’s men behind him.

“I don’t give second chances.”

a/n: A oneshot follow up! btw, what would you do or think? Do you agree with the MC? tw: death, torture (?), fear, depression (?), if anything else let me know!

You do one last swipe of the red polish on your toe. Lately, you’ve been trying to perfect your nail polish skills. It's not like you have much to do lately anyways. You groan as a little bit gets past your nail and onto your skin. Suddenly, there's a knock on the door of your bedroom.

“Come in!”

Your little sister enters with stride. There’s a big smile on her dimpled face. She sports the new colorful dress she just got and has been showing it off. Ever since you’ve been under Sukuna’s protection, the two of you have been lavished with gifts and luxury. Clothes that are the latest trend, jewelry that fits your tastes and then some, and of course, all of the art supplies that you can think of. The only problem? No one is biting for your art.

Once again, you’ve been completely blacklisted. Not only that, but you rarely see Sukuna anyway. He always sends his lackeys to get you things or watch you. How many times did you suddenly turn around and see some guy making extreme eye contact with you. It’s unnerving and just…you can’t put your finger on it. What was the point of all of this?

You care about Sukuna; you appreciate what he’s done and continues to do. But this feeling won’t go away. Are you unhappy and are missing the boy in your art? You hope it’s not you believing that Sukuna, the boy that graced your canvas at any given moment, is gone. He’s not! You wake up and see him sometimes. His kisses are gentle and passionate. A testament of love that is still so foreign.

“I want a movie.”

You sigh and get off the bed awkwardly. Walking, you have your toes lifted up so nothing smudges. “Go to the room, I'll be there in a second.”

“You don’t know what I want to watch!” You turn around to see the little hands on her hips.

“Yes I do, trust me.” She looks at you suspiciously. “Alright...”

She squints their eyes and walks away slowly. You push her along. “Goofy.”

You sigh and look around for Shrek. It seems to be the current favorite in the house. Opening the case, you don’t find the disc. Well, you’re sure it’s streaming somewhere.

“Crap…” Now you remember why you bought a CD. It’s because you couldn’t find it anywhere, surprisingly. “That’s fine, I’ll just ask him.”

If anyone can find anything, it’s Sukuna. He’s got the nose of a bloodhound.

You sneak past your sibling who has their arms crossed, impatiently waiting. If you don’t hurry, you’ll never hear the end of it. You exit and go to the floor that you could have sworn you heard Sukuna mention today. It’s that floor. The floor you’re not allowed in at all. It’s his workspace, his domain, he says. It’s not something for you to worry about. Well, surely he can stop doing some papers or something for a second to help you.

You don’t see anyone in the hallway. As you approach the door, you get a heavy feeling. Like something trying to weigh your feet down so you don’t move another inch. You want to turn away and run like a rabbit before it’s too late. To run for your life and pretend you were never there, just like he said to.

No, it’s fine. It’s just paperwork, you repeat.

Without knocking, you open the door slightly to see someone on their knees in front of your boy. The guy looks so familiar to you. He has grey hair that is sectioned with rubber bands at the end. You spot the faint scars and what looks like staples on his wrists.

Sukuna sits on a chair that can’t be called anything less than a throne. It’s antique looking, grim and built with stones. He has his head in his hand and a devilish smirk on his face. One that you haven’t witnessed before.

“I told you before, didn’t I?” An intense feeling of dread enters the room. Your heart is beating furiously. All you wanted was to watch Shrek, not see this. Not see this dim room with a weeping man on the floor and two of Sukuna’s men behind him.

“I don’t give second chances.” The man is dragged closer to him. No longer around the two other men, he desperately looks around and avoids Sukuna’s stare. The knife Sukuna was playing with slices the man’s chest so hard, he flies back. Blood pours out of the wound. You’ve never seen Sukuna’s strength like this. He’s lifted things for you but to be able to send a man flying with a flick of his wrist is crazy.

“Know your place, fool.”

Sukuna waves two fingers and the other men pounce on the injured. You hear screams that will never leave your ears.

I don’t give second chances.

Which one are you on now? Everything in you is telling you to run. But, if it were you, wouldn’t you want someone to save you? To at least attempt to? Shit, you don’t know what to do. How to even save this person. Call out Sukuna’s name and pray he’d tell everyone to stop isn’t possible. Since he doesn’t give second chances.

Suddenly, there’s a face in front of you. At the sudden appearance, you shriek and run. The elevator can’t come soon enough. Literally. Because right before it opens, you are dragged back to the room.

“Boss, look.” You are brought before Sukuna. He rubs his face with his hand. His very, very, scary hand. “What are you doing, (Y/n).”

You force yourself to look up. “I-I-I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

The man stops screaming. You aren’t facing him, just Sukuna who sees your horrified expression.

“Do you want me to take care of her like the rest?” The man who caught you asks. The rest?!

“No. I don’t care what happens to them, only her. Take her back. She better not have a scratch.”

When you enter the house and see your little sibling with their hands on her hips, looking at you accusingly. “Tsk, tsk, tsk! You left without me and didn’t bring Barbie as Rapunzel!”

That was the other movie you had in your hand. You could have avoided all of this if you picked Barbie as Rapunzel or with Rapunzel, whatever.

“Yeah, hold on.” You quickly get Shrek and place it in the player. She begins to protest at the movie. “Wrong one!”

You leave the room and don’t answer her questions. You shut your art room door and look around for any blank canvas. Tears stream down your face as you mix the paints. A dirty red, a fake white, and the darkest black spread along the canvas. You don’t know what it is yet. You’ll find out when you're done.

“What are you doing?” The voice cuts in. The brush stops mid stroke, not knowing where to go. You turn around to see Sukuna.

“Painting.” You whisper. You should’ve never left your sister! What’d he do? You didn’t hear anything at all, not even him coming in. You start to heave at the thought. Why couldn’t you have stayed with her? Better yet, grabbed her and got the hell out of here?

“Everything’s fine, don’t worry.” Ha! Easy for him to say. After what you witnessed, you’re scared. The danger that Sukuna held wasn’t new to you. You remember the store, the deal that occurred right in front of you the day you first met.

You remember perfectly. So, you’ve always known. But seeing it firsthand is a new beast. You can’t stop hearing the man’s screams. Or the violence that was right outside the store on that fateful day.

Sukuna’s hands are over your ears and cover the sides of your face. He looks down at you softly. “Trust in me, sweets.”

“I’m scared.” He coos and brings you into his chest. He’s warm and broad. Welcoming, strong, and you want to believe this, safe. He smells like something warm and a little like his cologne.

“You’re safe with me, remember?” He lifts your chin and stares in your eyes. “Sweets-”

“You don’t give second chances,” He pauses. “How many chances have I used up?”

Much to your confusion, he laughs. “Oh love,” He places a chaste kiss on your lips. “Never change.” Sukuna shows you Barbie as Rapunzel and walks out the room. “I got the movie!”

Your little sister laughs so cutely at Sukuna’s find. You follow and see your little sister snuggled up to him. He beckons you over with his fingers. Nervously, you sit next to him.

Sukuna sighs and places your head on his chest. “Never worry when it comes to me, understand?”

“Even at the doctors?” The little one pops her head up and looks so worried. “Okay, at the doctor’s yeah. But everything else, don’t worry. Capisce?”

“Yep!” She goes back to her spot. He wraps his arm around you. “You?”

You nod. Still, he looks concerned. “You know you’re my girl, right?” You begin to soften at the words he’s spoken to you before. Much to Sukuna’s liking, you cuddle up to him, relaxing in his embrace. “I know.”

“Ahem!” The two of you look at your little sister whose arms are crossed. “Shush!”

He puts his hands up in surrender. “So-rry, sheesh.”

You smile at the sight before you. He’s so kind to her. She adores him too, always has. He kisses the top of your head. There’s a deep fluttery feeling in you, it happened before. When he’d let you put him on your canvas. Despite him being uncomfortable at times, he trusted you.

You take a deep breath and release it slowly. Yeah, you’ll be okay for now.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #jjk oneshot #jjk #q

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happybird16 · 2 years

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Wait but Devil!Hunter Erwin making a contract with Levi the Blade Devil. Levi gets Erwin's arm in exchange for lending Erwin his powers. And as the years pass and they grow closer, Levi asks Erwin while they're in bed if he regrets sacrificing his flesh for the contract and Erwin is like "that was the best deal I ever made in my life"

Warnings: mildly suggestive, mention of blood, loss of a limb, fluff

Levi is the type of devil who is, at best, tolerant of humans, but really just wants to be seen and treated like an equal in human society. Their bond is unconventional, even before it becomes romantic, but Erwin treats him like anyone else and then, suddenly, like he’s the only person in the world that matters.

Levi agonizes about it -once years have passed and they’ve become as close as two beings can possibly be- the fact that it’s his fault Erwin is limited to one hand. It had seemed like a fair trade at the time, for the unlimited use of Levi’s Blade Arm -taking the place of the missing one only during high tension moments- and supernatural agility, it’s not often contracts are made without time limits after all.

It wasn’t worth it though. Not to Levi. He should have asked for less, something small and insignificant like friendlier Fiends do. Some blood maybe, or even a shitty joke.

Laying in bed together, skin to skin as the larger man dozes while he -once again- struggles to sleep, Levi ends up glaring at the leftover stub, like he always does when his mind is left to wander. The darkness of the room doesn’t help, only furthering the twisted downward spiral of his thoughts.

Lying with his head on the other man’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, the soft puffs of air brushing his hair with every outward huff, his heartbeat steady and firm below his ear, Levi can only glare at the puckered and scarred flesh. The scent of their love still permeates the air, filling his lungs with every sighed huff, and yet Levi can only think about how much this has cost Erwin. His partner, the love of his long, torturous life, scarred and limited by his own blade.

“What’s wrong,” Erwin asks, raising his lone arm to smooth along his bare hip and up along his spine.

The words make Levi jolt, stiffening in the other man’s embrace. He hadn’t even realized that the other man had woken up, despite the sharpness of his senses. “It’s nothing,” he replies half heartedly. “Go back to sleep. We have an early morning.”

“It’s not nothing,” Erwin points out, tone firm and insistent, still rough and groggy from sleep. “I’ve noticed you’ve been sleeping a lot less lately. Is there a reason why you’ve been staying up?”

Of course he noticed. Erwin always notices every little thing, every minute detail filing away in the framework of his mind for later use. It’s something Levi’s always admired about the man, even from day one. It’s useful in battle. Hell, they probably never would have gotten together if not for…

Burying the thought, Levi raises his head, grey eyes trailing across Erwin’s tanned skin, briefly catching the shallow marks his sharp teeth have left along the man’s shoulders and neck, before meeting steady ocean blue. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Levi,” with just one word, the larger man successfully chastises him.

To think he used to be one of the most feared devils. “It-,” he struggles, eyes trailing to glare at the appendage once again. With his sharp, slit pupils, he can see the healed over mess of white lines in crystal clear detail, even in the pitch darkness of their bedroom. When he continues, he’s nearly shouting, “How could you love me- a devil, a monster. I took your arm!”

“Levi,” this time Erwin’s voice his soft, but the word still retains all of its rigidity. He almost breaths out his name, like a disbelieving gasp. “Of course I love you. Hey- look at me.”

Levi does, stormy grey meeting urgent blue. Erwin’s hand rises from trailing along his spine, softly cupping the sensitive nape of his neck. Embarrassingly, Levi’s voice cracks wetly as he starts, “Erwin I-”

“Levi, no. There’s no reason to be sorry,” Erwin breaths, fingers swirling meaningless circles into his nape. The contact has him feeling limp and dazed, all the anguish and frustration oozing out of him as little tears well up in the corners of his eyes.

“I bet you regret it,” Levi almost chokes on the words, raising a hand to press agaisnt the stub. He knows Erwin can barely feel it, the gnarled mass of scars mostly numb. That’s his fault too.

Erwin grunts in protest, raising his head off the pillow to press a quick kiss to Levi’s forehead. “I don’t,” he says, lips softly brushing against his skin. “And I never will. That was the best deal I’ve ever made in my life.”

“You’re lying,” Levi warbles, barely a protest. Already, he feels steadier, his chest filled with warmth by the words and the soft touch. Erwin likes to gamble, -in battle, in life- always has. So surely there’d been a less costly one along the way, long before they’d met. Surely there’d been one that didn’t cost him nearly 15 lbs of literal flesh.

Warm fingers rise, nails trialing into the scruff of his undercut to tug at the bits of cloth encasing the more obvious signs of his deviation. A jagged crown of blades, the twisted and warped metal always warm to the touch and sharp enough to cut from the barest of a brush. All Fiends have some indicator of their nature displayed on their heads, but his is more than obvious, glinting and shining bright in the sunlight everyday. It’s for Erwin’s safety, to wrap them in cloth every night before bed, and now the man tugs fondly at the edge of the black fabric.

“I’m not,” Erwin says, pulling back to meet his gaze once again. He smiles, wide and glowing, before continuing, “Because it brought me you, my love.”

#eruri #csm au #levi ackerman #Erwin smith #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #levi #semi n.sfw #asks #mydrabbles #anons

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violetduckofviolence · 1 year

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OK, so I decided to translate one of my drabbles for Лихожовтень Challenge from Ukrainian, bc why not?

Link for the original version below.

Fandom: Star Wars: Rebels

Characters: Ursa Wren, Gar Saxon

AU - Canon Divergence, Drama, Non-Graphic Violence, Unhappy Ending (for Saxon)

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It wasn't out of a sudden outburst of pity or mercy that Ursa Wren shot Gar Saxon in the shoulder.

There were no merciful people in the Death Watch.

Oh no, saving her daughter from him, she saw a great opportunity for herself. To get her rightful revenge. The opportunity to torment him as he tormented her family, therefore closing the circle.

***

"I will peel off all the skin of yours." Ursa promises, almost gently touching his chin.

"I will do exactly what I have dreamed of for a long time. I will gouge out your eyes, tear out your nails. This is what you deserve, Saxon. For threatening me and my clan. For taking my husband and son hostages. For trying to kill my daughter. For you have no honor."

She slaps him mockingly on the cheek and barely manages to draw her hand away before strong teeth could clench on her fingers.

Well, of course, wounded animals are the most dangerous, and Gar Saxon is a remarkable bird of prey.

"At least knock out my teeth, to begin with." Saxon kindly advises her, tilting his head to one side.

"Because, look, I'll easily rip your throat. There's not much work, but family reunification will be cancelled."

Without saying a word, Ursa drives a scalpel into his leg. Instead of a cry of pain, there's just a low growl, but even it brings her joy. After all, Gar Saxon can take pain.

Once, a long time ago, he got stitched in almost field conditions. A pile of small fragments needed to be extracted from a severed thigh, and he only cursed and clenched his teeth.

Ursa helped hold him down so that he wouldn't twitch and in that moment was secretly jealous of such durability.

And even now she is still a little jealous, to be honest.

Ursa grabs Saxon by his short gray hair, forcing him to pull his head back, pulls the scalpel from his leg and places it against the Adam's apple.

"Tell me just one thing, Saxon." Ursa bends down to a rough face covered with old, faded scars.

"Have you never been disgusted with yourself? From the fact that you betrayed your identity for your own benefit?"

"I was." He quietly answers.

"I've been disgusted with myself more often than you can imagine, Ursa. But not because I took care of myself, no. You see, someone had to." Saxon does not look away. There is no trace of fear in his grey eyes.

"Don't waste time talking, Ursa. You came to torture me, then do so. Do everything you promised."

He comes forward to meet the blade, cutting himself, and a thin trickle of blood runs down his neck.

"As you wish." Answers Ursa and makes the first cut with a firm hand.

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

#star wars rebels #ursa wren #gar saxon #drabble #translation #mine

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milkmademozzarella · 2 years

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Pairing: Shigaraki x GN!Reader x Dabi

WC: 4.4k

TW: kidnapping, gaslighting, manipulation, mentioned past verbal abuse, general yandere behavior, torture (but not to darling), Shindou slander, character death (not darling).

Hello everyone! This was popped out FAST and I love this fic sm. Hopefully you all love it as well! Please make sure to reblog and like and to give @craftycheetah some love too! We collaborated on this beautiful fic and I am so proud of the outcome. REMEMBER TO READ THE WARNINGS.

“Little Ember… Come out, come out, wherever you are~,”

You covered your mouth as the sound of footsteps filled the silent room. Your apartment building, to be exact. Tears streamed freely down your face as you hid under your bed, desperate to get out of your apartment alive.

“Wherever could you be….” A deep voice growled out.

It took all of your willpower not to scream in terror. From underneath the bed, you could see long legs and scarred hands, blue flames complimenting the burned skin as they paced around the room.

You have no idea how you got into this situation. One moment you were sitting on your couch peacefully, then the next, you heard someone breaking in, your first instinct was to call the police and hide, but deep down, you knew they wouldn’t get there in time. They never do, considering how bad this neighborhood is.

This was it. This was your doom. You didn’t want to die, not like this, not without making an impact in the world.

“Did you find them, Dabi?” Another voice called out. “Where could my wallflower be hiding?”

“Their window’s open. Maybe they ran out while we were looking for them in the other room?” the deep voice groans.

“Dammit, Dabi, I want my wallflower!”

“We’ll get them soon, Shiggy. Soon,”

As you started to calm down, hearing the door close, you felt your blood run cold as a partially gloved hand grabbed your ankle.

“Found you, wallflower~” The man known as Shiggy grins as he pulls you out from under the bed. Pinning you against your carpeted floor, he grins down at you, vermilion eyes condescendingly peering into your (e/c) ones. “We’ve been looking for you. Why were you hiding from us?”

Looking at both of them, you started to panic even more, realizing who broke into your apartment. “Y-you’re villains! Dabi and Tomura Sh-Shigaraki! Please don’t kill me! I don’t have any money! If you let me go, I won’t say anything to the police! I promise!” you plead.

“Oh, Little Ember,” Dabi grins, “You won’t be saying anything to anyone. You’re ours. Get the rag, Shiggy.”

Struggling beneath him, you whimper as he grabs a cloth from his back pocket. You try to kick at him to no avail as he sits on your legs, bringing a white rag towards your face, holding it against your mouth. Trying to hold your breath, you struggle against him as Dabi makes his way over.

Placing a scarred hand to your throat, he squeezes the sides softly, forcing you to breathe in the chloroform.

“Rest now, Little Ember. You’ll be safe with us soon,” he purrs as your vision goes black.

You awoke with a start, your head pulsing as it looked as if the world was covered with a black cloth. It was dark. Too dark for your liking. You closed your eyes, liking the darkness that you willingly chose over the darkness you were forcefully put into. It was obvious the lights were out wherever you were, but—wait, where were you in the first place?

You remembered what happened, the two villains in your apartment, them lurking around, then finding you and putting a rag against your nose.

Looking around the room, you find yourself on a bed with pale grey and ocean blue bed sheets. In the corner of the room, your eyes lock onto a glowing pair of blue ones sitting across the room.

"Well, good morning, Little Ember. How'd you sleep? Good, I assume," Dabi purrs from his seat. Standing up and making his way over to you, he softly strokes your face with the back of his hand. "We're going to have so much fun."

“Sleep?! You knocked me out!” You barked at the man, the feeling of fear miraculously leaving your body as you screamed at him. You flinched and turned your head away at the feeling of cold staples and burnt flesh touching your face. "Don't touch me!"

“Potato potato. You looked so cute while you were resting~” Dabi cooed at you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Where’s the other guy?!” You asked, an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint filling your voice.

“Oh? Tomura? Well, you can call him Shiggy. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about him, dear. He’s out taking care of some… business.”

"I'm not staying here with you monsters! Grand will save me, and he and the other heroes will lock you away forever!"

“Ah yes, the heroes. As if they’ve ever done anything worthwhile.” Dabi rolled his eyes. "All they do is cause damage to the city and spout their idealistic bullshit about how villains are the stain on their city, yet they just caused a dozen casualties."

You glared at the scarred man at the foot of your "bed." A flurry of emotions overtaking you into silence. You didn’t have time for Dabi’s philosophy. Right now, you need to create an escape plan in case the heroes don’t show up in time.

'You are calculated. You are smart. You could do this, damn it! Hopefully, they won't kill me...right?'

“Daaaaarling~” You heard a familiar voice call from the bedroom door, followed by three taps against the wood. “Knock knock! I’m back~.”

“Speak of the devil.” Dabi grinned. “Now we can all be together.”

The door opened to reveal Tomura, a bag of groceries in his hand that he most likely stole from some poor victim.

“I got you your favorites,” Cracked lips formed into a grin.

You gulped as he also sat on the bed, scooting closer to you until he was right next to you with the bag in his lap. You couldn’t help your curiosity as you looked to your side and peaked into the bag. Huh, what do you know? It was actually groceries. And they looked fresh. Your mouth watered as you continued to stare inside the bag. He was right. Inside contained your favorites. The smell of all of them coming together was intoxicating. You felt like you would melt on the spot.

Dabi must’ve noticed this as a deep chuckle filled the room. “See something you like?”

You looked up at Tomura’s face to see he had a smug look on as well.

“No! Why would I eat something you two give me?! It could be poison!”

Tomura frowned. “Wallflower, you possibly couldn’t think we’d poison you, right?”

“I don’t even know who you guys are! All I know is that you’ve kidnapped me, the both of you are fucking crazy, and I want to go h—”

Shigaraki places a gloved hand over your mouth, glaring at you with a burning intensity. “Your home is with us. WE love you and will do anything to keep you safe, happy, and in our arms. Nothing will ever change that?”

“Shiggy’s right.” Dabi crossed his arms. “Just so we’re clear, Little Ember. This is your home. And we won’t tolerate any talk of you wanting to be anywhere else. Got it?”

You felt the fire in your stomach die down. Your blood turned cold as Shiggy’s gloved hand was placed over your mouth. You knew what his quirk was, what it could do to people. You didn’t want to end up like that. Nodding frantically, you fought the tears building in your lash line as you silently pleaded for your life.

“Hmph, already so obedient.” Tomura smiled. “You’re gonna be such a good lover for us.”

“But… I have a boyfriend...” You trailed off. “and he’s going to find me.”

“I don’t think so, Little Ember,” Dabi chuckles. “That little ‘boyfriend’ of yours isn’t as high and mighty as you think he is.”

“W-what?” Your eyes meet icy blue ones. “He loves me! He’ll get me back; I know he will!”

“He also seems to love the other pro heroes and your co-workers,” Dabi growls, thinking about Shindou’s unfaithfulness. You were a literal angel in their eyes, yet Shindou had the audacity to clip your wings and treat you like some pet bird he shows off only when bored or for publicity. “He didn’t deserve you. Going around being a bastard, not even caring that you’re missing. But none of that matters. You have us now, and we’d never hurt you, Little Ember.

“Yo is not a cheater!” You shouted.

“Don’t get them worked up, Dabi.” Tomura chimed in. “I don’t want their stress levels to increase.”

“I’m going to go and get started on dinner, Little Ember. Be good for Shiggy while I’m gone, yeah?” Dabi picked up the grocery bag and left the room.

Glaring at the back of the black-haired scarface reject as he exits, you feel dread as you realize he’s left you alone with Musutafu’s number one villain, who you’re supposed to call ‘Shiggy.’

A shaggy mop of cyan loomed over at you as Shigaraki laid his head on your shoulder. “You want to play a game, my pretty little wallflower?” he hums, grinning at you. “It’ll be fun~.”

“How about hide and seek?” Mischief snuck into your voice. ‘Maybe I can con him into this and get out of this hellhole!’

“Hide and seek could be fun, but what would Dabi and I get when I win? Did you forget I was the one who found you, Babe?” he teases.

“How ‘bout a kiss on the cheek?” you suggested.

“Hmm, that’s good for a start. We’ll get into specifics later. What do you want if you somehow win?” “I go home.” “No. You can have literally anything else you desire. That's not an option, wallflower.”

You noted that Shiggy wasn’t as strict with the “talking about going home” rule.

“But Shiggy-“

“I said, no.”

Your argument died in your throat as you stared at the fiery look in his eyes. Red irises filled with passion and desire.

“Fine, then I want to make a phone call,”

Shiggy pressed his fingertip to his chin, thinking thoughtfully about the possibility of this prize.

“Alright, that can be arranged,” he hummed.

He brought a gloved finger to his mouth, his fingers grazing his lips as he parted them and bit down, pulling it off with his teeth, a short glimpse of sharp fangs before he wiggled his unrestricted fingers.

“Run, wallflower.”

You gulped and leaped off the bed, running out of the room and sliding down the hallways like a madman, desperate to escape one of your captors. In the distance, you could hear him counting out loud. To what number, you had no idea, but all you knew was that every second counted.

Making your way into a large room, you look for a way to escape or at least hide until he stops looking, only to trip over a loud box. Silently yelping, you dash out of that room, hoping Shigaraki doesn’t look there. After a few minutes of running and trying to avoid finding the kitchen where you assumed Dabi was, you found yourself in a darkened room full of boxes after taking a few turns. You smiled in relief as you stared into the space, your reflection staring at you back with a wide smile as you looked at the window that was at your level. Well- almost, you could look at it, but you have to get at a higher level to actually climb out of it. You couldn’t believe it! There was a window you could slip out of and get away from these psychos. You’re surprised they didn’t have it boarded up.

Your eyes flicked back from the boxes to the window, formulating a plan. Stacking the boxes on top of one another, you reach for the handle hoping to escape. ‘Almost there...almost...YES! I CAN GET OUT OF HERE’ Your victorious thoughts are cut off when you feel warm all of a sudden and scream as you’re yanked back into someone’s arms.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Looks like I found you, Little Ember. What did you think you were doing, little one? The world isn’t safe for you. Mean people will try to snatch you up and take you away from us, and we can’t have that, can we?” Dabi coos condescendingly.

You felt sweat build on your forehead, the tiny beads formulating as you felt a large hand pet the side of your throat and an arm wrapped protectively around your stomach, the placement constricting you as Dabi wished.

“But- but you weren’t playing!” You cried out.

“On the contrary, (Y/N), whatever Shiggy does with you, I do it too.” He let out a laugh. “That includes this little game of hide and seek. Or should I call it tag with the way you were about to leap out that window?”

“I-I…” You stammered, your mouth opening and closing as if you were a fish out of water.

“You were going to have us chase you, weren’t you?” He breathed into your ear, causing you to shiver. “Make me and poor little Shiggy chase you to wherever you were going. Is that what you wanted? To be treated as prey and me and Shiggy could be the predators? I wonder what you expected the outcome to be….”

You didn’t have to look at him to tell he was grinning.

“Why me? Why did you take me? I’m no use to you guys,” You whimper. “Please, Dabi, I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise, don’t hurt me.”

“Aww, how pathetic. You really think I’d use my flames on you? What’s the point if you can just heal yourself back up?” Dabi punctuated those final words with a harsh tone. “We took you, darling because we love you. We always have. But when we saw what you could do with your quirk… well, let’s just say that was our breaking point.”

Your blood turned to ice at the implications. Your quirk? It was just a regular old healing quirk. Being an EMT, an underlooked one at that, there was nothing special about you.

“Baby, imagine all the things the league could do if we had a healer on our side.” Dabi’s fingers stroked your throat, the threat there but not completely set in stone. “We’d be unstoppable with you on our side, Little Ember. We’d all treat you like royalty, treat you the way you deserve. Toga will love you, and it’d be nice for her to have another friend around.”

“No! I won’t join you people! What kind of question is that?! Don’t you have heroes on your ass every other week?!” You snapped at him.

Before Dabi could respond, Shiggy entered the room. “Found you wallflower! Oh, Dabi, you found her first,” he whines. Making his way over, he drapes his arms over your shoulders and Dabi’s.

You couldn’t stop the feeling of warmth that rushed to your cheeks. Dabi’s hands were still on your waist, his front pressed up against your back, while Tomura was pressed against your front, pulling you all into a somewhat sickeningly sweet hug. You would’ve enjoyed the sentiment if they weren’t kidnappers.

“Damn, Shiggy, I’ve never seen you this happy before,” Dabi commented.

“Well, you know what they say,” Tomura responded. “Love can change a person.”

Suddenly, Dabi’s head raised as he breathed in.

“Is something burning? Oh, shit, the yakitori!”

“Damn it, Dabi! Do you know how hard it was to obtain those groceries?!”

“Can it, Shiggy!” he calls out, pulling away to run to the kitchen.

“We’ll get take out if he burns it, wallflower. Don’t you worry,” Shiggy coos, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

After a month, though you were begrudgingly starting to succumb to Dabi and Shiggy’s affection, you found yourself in Shiggy’s arms as he played video games. At the same time, he sat on the floor between your legs. You also found yourself comforting Dabi through his nightmares. Under all of the wear and tear… you came to realize he wasn’t a bad guy. Neither of them was. They just went through the back ends of society and were considered flawed when their quirks were seen as too dangerous.

A soft rumble shook the building you were held in as the wall collapsed, revealing the sunlight from outside. Hiding your face and coughing softly at the dust, you managed to look at the source of the semi-destruction.

“What the hell?!” Tomura screeched.

“(Y/N)!” Dabi shouted, dashing towards you to gather you in his arms.

“I’m okay...what was that?”

“I think I know,” Tomura yells as he glares at the figure stepping through the hole in the wall.

“Well, well, well!” A familiar voice laughed triumphantly. “If it isn’t the boys who took my partner!”

“Shin…dou?” You squinted as the light spilled in from the hole in the wall, the brightness invading your eyes.

“Hey, babe.” His voice became softer and more loving upon his eyes scanning you over.

Your mind was fuzzy, memories flooding back to you that had been long forgotten long ago. You remember the good, the bad, and the ugly.

You let out a loud cry as the thoughts came rushing back to you. Dabi lovingly rubbed small circles into your back, whispering sweet words into your ear as he tried to reassure you that everything was going to be okay, that this was just a bad dream. Everything was going to go back to normal.

“Leave!” Tomura hissed, removing his gloves to prepare for a fight.

“Give me back my partner, and maybe I’ll think about it after throwing your asses in jail!”

“They aren't your partner anymore! You lost any and all right to call them yours the minute you decided that blonde-headed bimbo was a better option than them! Now get out before all that remains is your burned and mostly decayed corpse!” Dabi growls, holding you close to him, hiding your face in his chest.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Patches.” Shindou's voice went back to venomous and hostile.

“Shindou!”

Everyone’s head snaps towards you as you speak up for the first time since he busted in. “You need to go. I’m not going back with you. You cheated on me...you gaslit me...you used me for your own personal gain. You were—no, you are abusive, and I’d rather stay with Shiggy and Dabi than go back to you.”

“What?” Shindou snapped. “(Y/N) I’d never! Baby, they’re poisoning your head with lies. You know I’d never hurt you, right?” He took a few steps forward.

Tomura held out his hand. “Back the fuck up!”

“C’mon, shockwave, you know I’d never! You know I love you!”

“You do?” Tears welled up in your eyes.

“Wallflower?” Tomura cast a hurt glance in your direction. Damn it! He thought you were over this! This bastard was bringing up memories that he thought were repressed!

“Little Ember, look at me,” Dabi sighs, cupping your face and wiping your tears. “Okay, we fucked up by kidnapping you, but we’ve treated you four times as better than he ever did, right, baby?” Nodding your head softly, you lean into his hand as he smiles at you. “You care about me…” you sniffle.

“That’s right, we do. And we will never ever leave you, babydoll.”

Shindou growled angrily and let out a vibration strong enough to knock you away from Dabi.

Unfortunately, the vibration was too strong, and it caused the building to shake once more. Glasses and dishes shattered onto the floor as pieces of the building started to come apart around them. Just above you, the ceiling cracks loudly, and before anyone can stop it, it collapses on top of you as you let out a frightful scream.

“(Y/N)!” Shiggy and Dabi screamed as they watched the horror happening right before their eyes.

The vibrations stopped abruptly as silence filled the room. Shiggy rushed to the pile you were trapped under, using his quirk to disintegrate most of the concrete before grabbing his gloves and tossing the rest of them off of you. Cradling your unconscious body in his arms, he glares at Shindo when he sees blood stemming from your head.

“Wallflower? Wallflower, (Y/N), please, wake up,” Shiggy pleads, trying to stop the bleeding. “Dabi, make a distraction. We’re leaving. NOW!”

Dabi nodded, and with the stretch of his hands, he created a wall of fire to block off Shindou as he rushed over to Shiggy and your motionless body.

“Damn it!” Shindou cussed, feeling the heat of the flames from where he stood. “You’re not getting away with this!”

“No, you’re not getting away with this!” Tomura snapped, picking up your motionless body with gloved hands, having put them back on.

Dabi looks back at Shiggy as he calls Kurogiri to send a portal. “Go. Keep her safe, Tomura. I’ll come and meet you guys once I deal with this dirtbag,” He growls, turning around to meet Shindo with a wicked look in his eyes as the left side of his face was engulfed in flames.

“You’re going to regret ever touching my Little Ember.” Dabi let out a maniacal laugh.

“Bring it, patches!”

You felt a ringing in your head when you awoke. “Ah, fuck, where am I?” you groan as you open your eyes, attempting to get used to the lighting.

“Wallflower! You’re awake! How do you feel, baby?” Shiggy gasps, looking up from his phone.

“Shiggy? God, my head hurts. What happened?”

“A bad man tried to take you from us.”

“Shindou? Yo Shindou? I think… I think I know him.”

‘Amnesia. Great. This could work for them.’

“Are you okay enough to stand? Dabi and I want to show you something. There we go,” he smiles, cautiously picking you up.

Helping you out of bed, you grip onto Shigaraki’s sweatshirt before yelping as he picks you up bridal style. “I like this better.” Looking up at Shiggy, you hold onto his neck as he carries you from your room towards a dark hallway.

“Shiggy? Where are we going? Also, where’s Dabi?”

“Just behind this door, my pretty little wallflower.” As Shiggy opened the door, he set you down on a chair in the darkened room as the lights turned on.

As the lights turned on, you noticed Dabi’s figure in the corner as a spotlight shown on a tied up, bruised, and partially burned Shindou.

“Shindou? Dabi, Shiggy, what are you doing?”

“We’re going to play a game,” Dabi grins. “Every time Shindou here lies, we’re going to hurt him.”

“Wait, what?! C’mon guys, let him go. He’s never done me wrong!”

Cooing at your statement, Dabi tilts his head with a smile. “Aww, poor little ember. You must be so lost. Confused and conflicted on who truly loves you,” he sighs. “We’ll fix that soon.”

Shindou wakes up, gasping loudly, as a loud slap resonates through the room. “Let me go!”

“Answer our questions, and we’ll think about it,” Dabi grins.

Staring up at you, Shindou notices the bandages on your head and shoulders. Internally flinching at your wounds, he struggles against the quirk-canceling binds as he sees you in Shiggy’s arms. “Y/N! Do something!”

Growling lowly, Shigaraki steps in front of you, glaring at Shindou. “Don’t talk to them! You don’t even deserve to look in their directions after what you did!” he barks.

“Shindou…” you mumble. “Guys… please let him go. I’m begging you.”

They both sent a hostile glare your way, their eyes narrowing as you tried to defend the very one who threatened to take you away from them. They could never forgive him for that.

“Just look away, baby.” Tomura used his backhand to rub your cheek.

“No! Please!” You cried out. “Don’t hurt him!”

Tomura and Dabi shook their heads, disappointed in your decisions right now, but don’t worry, they could fix you up.

Overcome with emotions, you stood up on wobbly legs, making your way towards where Shindou was on display like a thanksgiving turkey.

Before you could reach him, Tomura tackled you to the floor, causing you to yelp and writhe on the ground, wrestling with him to get out of his grasp. Still, he was stronger than he looked and quickly restrained you. With a little bit of work, he eventually positions you to where you’re sitting in his lap, his arms wrapped tight around your waist, stopping you from escaping.

“Question number one,” Dabi begins the game. “Did you ever cheat on (Y/N)?”

“How dense do you have to be to understand this?! No! I did not go and fucking cheat on them! I loved them!” Shindou snaps.

“Wrong answer,” Dabi growled, annoyed at Shindou’s antics.

“It’s not like you would know!”

Dabi sighed as he activated his quirk, bringing the flames close to Shindou’s exposed stomach.

Shindou let out a scream, his cries rippling through the atmosphere as he threw his head back against the wall, effectively making a thumping noise.

“Try again, lover boy,” Dabi smirked. “I’d hate to ruin that oh-so-pretty face of yours.”

Shindou’s eyes widened at the threat of those blue flames touching his face. Guilt overtook his features as he looked at your tear-stricken face.

“Fine, I did. We took a break, and she came to me. At first, it was a mistake...until it wasn’t. She respects me, and she loves me….”

“What? Yo...You’re lying. You have to be! I didn’t give you three years of my life for you to just throw it away for some bitch!” you mumble before screaming at him.

“Well, well, well, who knew you were such a narcissist!” Dabi laughed, yet there was no humor in his voice. “Only giving up when I threaten to burn your face? C’mon! That’s pathetic! Even for the great Pro Hero Grand. ”

“Case closed,” Tomura commented. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Wallflower.”

“You’re a sorry excuse of a man, hero, and a lover! I hope you fucking rot, you bastard!” you sob, pushing yourself away from Shiggy and running out the room.

Looking between the open door and Dabi, he glares at the tied-up hero before running after you.

“Now we’re gonna do something else. You’re gonna learn something new today, Yo. Don’t touch what’s ours. Ever.” Dabi growls as Shigaraki closes the door behind him.

End.

276 notes · View notes

mobbu-min · 3 years

Note

Yandere adultrio with a s/o who finally breaks? Not break like being the perfect little s/o they want, but breaking like becoming completely and utterly numb to everything (threats, emotions, pain) and them being like "this......this isn't what I wanted"

A/N: ive recently started watching hxh again and it def gave me inspiration again. these turned out to be more like drabbles then hcs but i had fun(and made myself sad) so it doesnt really matter😌💗

Characters: Hisoka(hxh), Chrollo(hxh), and Illumi(hxh)

!Warning! Yandere behavior, yandere mindset, mentions of blood, torture and murder, gaslighting, manipulation

Yandere Adult Trio with a s/o who finally breaks

▪ Hisoka would be truly devastated.

▪ Afterall, you were his little plaything. Your outburst of rage and sadness amused him to no end. The tears you shed at his threats of pain caused the utmost pleasure coursing through his body.

▪ It wasn’t difficult to come to terms with the dead look in your eyes or the small gasp of pain when he scratched up your body with his sharp nails.

▪ Technically, he could just take you out of your misery right then and there but everytime Hisoka even attempted to, something stopped him.

▪ It bothered him to no end. Just why couldn’t he just snap your neck? It wasn’t a problem before, so why are you any different? What made you special?

▪ All he can do is sit down beside you and stare out at the window. Before, you would coward and tremble but now all you did was blink and exhale.

▪ Taking your hand into his, he played with your cold fingers. Taking notice of your chipped fingernails, no doubt from you biting them, and the pieces of skin that hung loosely near your nails, red and bloody from picking at them.

▪ No words were exchanged. Just Hisoka bored stare and your unblinking eyes.

▪ "I guess these are the consequences of being such a menace, right darling?” Hisoka breathed out, not expecting a reply. Running hand through his pink hair, he let out a laugh. One that should have sent you cowering in the corner of your room but you blinked and exhaled.

▪ Leaning his head against your shoulder, Hisoka brought you into his embrace. Clicking his tongue, he muttered “I wonder if this would have ended up differently if I was a different person.”

▪ He would be honestly confused, not grasping the fact that he pushed you too far down the road of self-destruction.

▪ It wasn’t until you constantly refused to eat and stared blankly up at him with the same dead-stare he gave you, after he threatened to use his nen ability on you, was when he truly grasped the consequences of his actions.

▪ He would reassure himself this is what he wanted. Illumi wanted you to be compliant and act like the perfect little partner, so why is there a pang in his chest at the sight of your thinning frame? Why does his mouth tug downwards at the sight of your soulless eyes that burrows right into him after he threatens to break your leg?

▪ The life in your eyes is no longer there. The fire in your voice laid vacant and the warmth your hands once provided was cold and harsh to the touch.

▪ Illumi once felt human with you but now he felt nothing at all.

▪ He knew it was coming eventually, but he didn’t expect it to bother him as greatly as it did.

▪ Chrollo had gotten used to your constant barrage of insults and defience. Yes, it bothered him greatly but it wasn’t something he couldn’t deal with.

▪ Maybe he shouldn’t have shown you your home town, once filled with life, now bathed in red.

▪ Chrollo is a man of intelligence but he didn’t think it out. He thought it would help you to comply with his demands and stop demanding to go home. It was out of pure rage and nothing else.

▪ It was your own fault for spitting out those cruel words at him, “I’d rather die than ever say ‘I love you’”. You were foolish! You were naive! Chrollo made it out to be your fault that your family and everyone you knew died, like it wasn’t his fit of childlike rage that caused the massacre?

▪ So should he really be surprised at your sudden compliance, if that is what you could call your sudden change in demeanor?

▪ Your soul that burned with passion and fury lay dormant. The curiosity and mystery that lay underneath your eyes, the very mystery that drew Chrollo in, was no longer there.

▪ You no longer teared up at his threats of misfortune. No more insults left your lips when he neared you. You didn't pound against his chest when he sat you on his lap.

▪ You were a lifeless doll.

▪ Annoyance built up within Chrollo. Was it towards him or you? He really couldn’t tell.

▪ It was on the evening of your ‘anniversary’ did he take the problem in his own hands. Once again in a fit of rage, the calm collective Chrollo you knew, was nothing but a raging toddler throwing their beloved toy onto the ground.

▪ Before he commenced his tantrum, he stopped dead in his tracks. His arms fell to his side and his grey eyes stared lifeless onto your fallen form.

▪ You laid limp on the cold broken tile of the large church you currently called home. The broken stained glass window let the harsh moonlight fall onto your pathetic form.

▪ Chrollo stared silently taking in the sight of the scars that ran up your body, some prominent and others fading. The bones that peaked underneath your skin. Your thinning hair and chipped nails. The small puddle of blood that pooled on the dirty floor from your nose, no doubt from the back of his hand making contact with your poor face.

▪ Kneeling at your side, he picked you up like you would to a baby. Treating you delicately like a fragile piece of art, he let you lean against his cloth chest. Leaning against the back of the altar to the church, Chrollo closed his eyes.

▪ Chrollo wasn’t one to regret. He lived his life doing what he wanted. Taking what he wanted without a second thought.

▪ But the sight of you laying on the cold floor of the cathedral made him regret every single thing.

▪ He had clipped his angel’s wings just like he wanted. Took their innocence and kept it to himself. Your purity and joy was all held in his palm. When did it all go away? Why did it turn out this way?

▪ Chrollo sat there on the cathedral floor staring at the broken figure of the cross letting the moon be the only witness to the tears that cascaded down his pale face.

#yandere hxh #yandere hxh x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hisoka #yandere hisoka x reader #yandere illumi #yandere illumi x reader #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere x reader

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dr3amofagame · 3 years

Note

originally i just wanted dream to recover, preferably in the syndicate. but after today's quackity lore? he deserves to fuck shit up for a bit. let him get his revenge. tommy got his revenge on dream, techno got his revenge on l'manberg, dream deserves to get revenge on quackity and sam! then he can recover after that lol

(context: ask was sent on march 16th and i am very. very late.)

but YEAH !! logic brain says revenge bad and cycle of violence will continue BUT emotion brain wants c!dream to go crazy go stupid !! go beat them up honey we’ll be here with juice boxes and fruit snacks when you’re done <3

i wrote this while looping casino royale by derivakat for (checks time) something like 12 hours straight so uhh,,, yeah LMAO have some of c!dream going apeshit bc honestly he deserves it (/hj)

tw: implied torture, abuse, mentioned injuries, suicide, murder, explosions, death, violence, dark portrayals of c!dream, c!quackity, and c!sam, emotional distress, prison arc, pandora’s vault

Sam is uneasy long before he enters Las Nevadas - Quackity’s terse, serious-sounding string of texts he’d woken up to had sent his heart racing before the country even came into sight, and he’s pretty sure the pit in the middle of his gut since Dream escaped a week ago won’t disappear until the prisoner is either jailed or dead at his feet. Still, the city hardly does his anxiety any favors - each step within its limits feels a bit more like walking to his own death, the silent storefronts and looming, boarded up casino seeming to watch his every move, making him pick up his pace to move a little faster and avoid their judging gazes.

Stuck in his head as he is, it’s not until he’s halfway to the meeting place that he realizes how eerily quiet the place is - Las Nevadas has yet to be a particularly busy country with the casino yet to open and their recruits usually doing their own thing in the meantime, but still there’s usually at least one of them lingering on the city grounds, between Fundy’s work on his yacht and Foolish’s construction and whatever Slime does, usually involving an immense amount of following Quackity’s every move. The city as it right now feels much more like when it had been no more than a secret of his and Quackity, months spent with just the two of them working to make Big Q’s vision a reality. There’s something uniquely unnerving about it, like stepping into a ghost town, and Sam’s unease only grows.

“Sam!” Quackity calls from the base of the casino - Sam shades his eyes from the sun as he jogs over. Even from this far, it’s clear Q is displeased - his lips are flat in a small frown, skin taut from where the corner of his mouth is pulling at his scar. His tie is slightly askew and shirt rumpled - he looks disheveled, eyebrows narrowed irritatedly as he taps at something on his communicator. Sam smiles slightly, hollow.

“Hello Quackity,” he responds simply, drawing his trident and bringing it to his side. “You said we needed to meet?”

“Yeah,” Quackity’s voice is distracted, and he mumbles a curse as he jams his finger particularly hard against the communicator screen. “What is up with everyone today? They sent me these- weird fucking messages and then we get here and nobody’s here-”

“Who?” Sam’s lips press together. “You mean like- Fundy? Or Foolish?” They seem to be the ones that Quackity got messages from most frequently, if he remembers right. He doesn’t know for sure - usually, Quackity handles the social side of managing Las Nevadas.

“Fundy, Purpled, Foolish, Slime-” Quackity makes a vague, affronted noise. “All of them! Where the hell are they?”

Sam pauses.

“Q, when did Slime learn to use a communicator?”

“That’s the green one, right?” Both of them freeze, whirling around to the voice behind them, seeing nothing but the empty, arched doorway of the still-locked casino. “Naïve. Easy to fool.” The voice pauses, barks a sharp, quiet laugh. “Made my job easy, at least.”

The voice is familiar- too familiar. Sam doesn’t think he’ll ever get that cadence out of his head, not after months after months spent in the prison, hearing it in every possible tone and form. Quackity’s shoulders are hunched up to his ears, teeth bared in a snarl.

“Dream- I fucking swear- where the hell are you?”

“Aw, not so brave when the other person can actually fight back, are we?” Dream’s voice is lilting, mocking, and Sam’s hands tighten on the trident. “Fine, I’ll show myself. I’m not like you- no need to extend this game any longer than necessary.”

Dream slinks out from the shadows, wearing all black and covered in netherite armor, seeming fiddling with a small, grey thing in one hand. HIs stance is wide, torso pulled close to the ground - instead of a mask, his outfit includes a hooded black cloak that pulls down over his face, barely offering a glimpse of his eye glaring from underneath it.

“I’m giving you three seconds to tell me why the hell you’re in my country,” Quackity growls, sword forming in his hand, blade still crusted over with old blood, “And I’ll make your death half as painful as it’ll be otherwise.”

Dream laughs, high-pitched and unstable. “Please- what are you gonna do with that thing?” Quackity stalks forward with a low, wordless yell and Sam only barely manages to snag him back by the wrist.

“Watch it, Q,” Sam mutters, looking closer. Sure enough, there’s a faint, reddish haze rising from Dream’s body, only barely visible, interspersed with some lighter blue wisps. Strength and Speed. “He’s got potions.”

“Outmatched, aren’t we?” Dream cocks his head to the side, a tight-lipped smile visible under the hood’s shadow. “What a shame. I was hoping for a good fight.”

Quackity curses at him, loudly, but mullishly stays in place instead of lashing out like earlier, and Sam hisses a small sigh of relief. He looks back over at Dream - under the sun, he looks worse than ever, armor doing little to hide the gaunt edge of his face, limbs skinny and shaking. His hands tremble, wrists kept close together, as he continues to move the thing within them from hand to hand, small and grey and smooth from what he can tell in flashes between scarred and calloused fingers. He’s still favoring his left side slightly, but his eyes are cold and clear as they follow his every movement, clearly lucid and intelligent. Unfortunately for them, Dream is the best of fighters at the worst of times, and he has no doubt that with potions on his side and themselves relatively unprepared for battle, any fight with him won’t go particularly well.

Negotiation it is, then. “Why are you here, Dream?” If they stall long enough, then the rest of the server can come to back them up, and then even Dream won’t be able to fight back for long. He and Quackity can figure out what to do with him once he’s safely back under their control - for now, they have to play things safe. He pulls out his communicator carefully with one hand, trying to avoid drawing attention to his movements. “I doubt you’re here for a housewarming visit.”

Dream waves his hand slightly. “Something like that-” he bares his teeth in a small smile. “How about a housewarming gift, instead?”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Quackity bites, aggressive in a way that speaks of how threatened he feels, and the pit in Sam’s stomach only grows. Dream’s eye seems to glow as he turns and presses his hands to the nearby wall; when he pulls them back, there’s a stone button fastened on the quartz.

“Say, Quackity,” Dream’s voice is too light to be anything but forced levity, rolling his shoulders back to try and hide the way his entire body has begun to shake even more violently than before. “How much TNT do you suppose it took for Wilbur to blow up L’manburg?”

Sam gasps, low and harsh through his teeth, a quiet, breathless no falling from his lips. Quackity’s head shakes, eyes widening in fury and denial.

“No- no what the fuck did you do- Dream what the absolute fuck did you do-”

“Eleven stacks of TNT, to blow up that country to kingdom come.” Dream laughs, directing his wild, manic expression to look them in the eye. “The amount of TNT hooked up to this thing is ten times that.”

“You’re a liar-” Quackity rushes forward, sword raised, “I’m going to fucking kill you-”

Sam grabs him, again, ignoring his yells to look at Dream, who’s still standing, seemingly unruffled, one hand hovering over the button that’ll spell doom for them all.

“That’ll kill all of us,” he tries to reason, panic clawing up his lungs, “You’re on your last life. You can’t-”

“And what, Warden, makes you think I give a single goddamn fuck about that?” Dream’s voice cracks, slightly, and for a moment Sam almost thinks he’ll break, that he can press the point until the other backs down - but Dream is nothing if not stubborn, and within seconds he’s composed himself again, looking at them with a determined set to his jaw that Sam recognizes well enough from Quackity’s visits to know that he won’t back down. “Everyone else is far away from here. I made sure of that. It’s just you, and Quackity, and me, and I’m pressing this button if it’s the last thing I do. Call it a parting shot, will you?”

Sam pulls at Quackity, wrist still locked in his grip. “Q, we have to leave.”

“I’m not letting him destroy this place Sam, are you out of your fucking mind? This- Las Nevadas- it’s everything- I’m not letting him take this place from me not again-”

“He’s going to kill us all, Quackity,” he throws a water bucket at his feet, charging up his trident. The sign taunts him at the edges of the city borders, far too far away for any of them to even hope to reach. “We have to go now-”

“Say your goodbyes,” Dream taunts, and there’s a quiet click. Sam smells the faint, smoky smell of redstone being activated, hears a hum growing in volume from the ground beneath him. He looks over to Dream, who has a hand pressing the button to the wall, fever-bright eyes wide and wet as he stares at his own hand before shutting them with a soft, almost serene smile. “And see you in hell.”

The world goes white.

[Dream was blown up by Dream.]

[Quackity was blown up by Dream.]

[awesamdude was blown up by Dream.]

#-> my writing #my writing :D #my asks !!#-> my asks #tw torture #tw abuse #tw injuries #tw suicide #tw murder #tw explosion #tw death #tw violence #tw emotional distress #prison arc #pandora's vault

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kiirokero · 3 years

Text

Sit and Heal (JJK) (Teaser)

Pairing: Werewolf!Jeongguk x Witch!Reader

Summary: “You have scars, Y/n, both on your heart and on your skin. The one on your arm may be healed, but the one on your heart isn’t. Please. Let me lick your wounds,” Or: The wolf that visits you every afternoon is your shoulder to lean on as you realize it's time to learn to love and trust again, even if it’s hard.

Word Goal: 10k+

Approximate Release Date: Beginning-Mid May

Note: If you wanna be tagged when Sit and Heal comes out, just comment or message me :) Also, I was literally so anxious to post this, I’m so worried people will think it’s trash :)

“Go home. You have others waiting for you, don’t you?” You spoke, and the wolf turned back towards the forest, where the trees grew thicker and the brush became more unforgiving. Again, the wolf looked towards you for a second, before it ran into the thicket. Gone. Its presence seemingly no more than an apparition. You felt like you met a ghost.

“Goodbye...”

Meow

“No, Yume,”

Meow

“No, bub”

Meoooww

“Yume, it’s raining. We can’t go outside,” You scold the cat who is currently eyeing you while you prepare supper for the night. You caught a chicken the other day, so you were happily making some chicken soup. Or you were trying to, if it wasn’t for the black cat who was currently whining his heart out next to you. “You’ll get snatched up by that wolf if you go out there,” You playfully threatened.

Yume grumbled out an annoyed mew, already familiar with the wolf you met and had previously rambled to him about the exact day you met it. It’s been about 3 days since your first run-in with the chestnut-colored wolf, and everything's been relatively normal. You did your daily spell work, foraged until the days turned to night, checked your snares with hope in your heart.

And you never saw the wolf again.

But life goes on, and you’re hungry.

Meow... You sighed, dejected, tired of explaining to the cat that it’s cold, wet, and dark outside. Not the best weather for outside time. Meow. You put the spoon that you were stirring the soup with down, turning to the black furball with your hands on your hips. “Alright, out,” You groaned, shooing the cat away from the kitchen towards the living room. “It’s warm here, your favorite kind of temperature. Just lay down until dinner, okay? I’ll even put more wood on the fire,”

You did as you promised as Yume begrudgingly got on the couch, still boring his green eyes into the back of your head. You grabbed some wood from the stack that laid next to the brick fireplace and threw it in. You flicked your wrist causing sparks came flying out towards the wood. The flames revived energetically, painting the living room in a serene orange glow, illuminating both you and the black cat behind you.

You dusted off your hands, turning around to give Yume a kiss on the forehead. “Maybe tonight we can do a tarot reading for the two of us, yeah?” You bargained, earning a content meow from the cat. You chuckled, scratching behind the familiar’s ear before you went back to the kitchen.

The rain furiously beat against the windows of your small cottage; the wind howling as it whipped against the old wooden boards. The house creaked and groaned under the power of the storm, but you knew your protection charm wouldn’t allow anything to happen to the cottage. Luckily, there was no thunder booming or lighting running bright white cracks in the dark grey sky, it was just the rain and the wind.

You were humming the tune of a folk song you remember your mother singing as you chopped up some carrots and plopped them in the soup, unaware of the cat that was currently sneaking towards a window. Yume jumped up on the windowsill, expertly avoiding the terracotta pot filled with different herbs and flowers. The window was unlatched. An error on your part, but a perfect stroke of luck for Yume.

Yume bumped the window open, causing the shudders to catch in the wind and bang against the wall. You jumped, dropping the spoon into the pot, splashing the soup around the stove and onto you. You hissed at the feeling of hot soup on your cheekbone, but ultimately ignored it, turning off the stove and walking back out into the living room.

An icy chill met your skin as you entered the room, causing your skin to rise with goose bumps. You shivered. The fire was now a low ember and the curtains furiously whipped around in the harsh wind, rain seeping in and dripping onto the floor. You groaned, realizing that you probably forgot to latch it. “Just my luck,” You sighed as you closed and latched the window, turning to go tend to the fire again.

That’s when you stopped mid-step, swirling around to look at the couch, noticing a lack of a Yume. “Yume?” You called out into the quiet house. No answer. Yume was a cat. It wasn’t like he was going to say “Hello” back, but he would come if called. Nothing. “Yume!” You shouted, a bit more panicked. Again, no sign of the furball. Quickly, you rushed through the house, checking every room. You looked under your bed, behind the dresser, under blankets, everywhere. But there was no Yume.

Anxiety seeped into your veins like viscous tar, clogging up your lungs and throat. “Y-Yume...?” You choked out, your mind and heart running a mile a minute. You felt tears well up in the corner of your eyes. They burned as they ran down your cheeks. You sat down on the couch, covering your face with your hands as you tried to calm your breathing. With each inhale you choked, coughing with trembling lips.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Yume probably went outside. He’s a smart cat, it’ll be okay,” You whispered to yourself in a shaky voice, taking in a few more gulps of air. You willed yourself up on trembling legs, stumbling over to the coat rack. “It’s okay,” You sighed out once more, throwing on your raincoat and boots, stepping outside into the ferocious storm.

Wind licked the wet trails of your tears as rain battered against your body. Trees bent over to the will of the storm, looking ready to snap, as their leaves rustled together producing an eerie symphony that made your hair rise. The sky was void of any light from the stars or the moon, covered in a thick layer of intimidating grey clouds. “Yume!” You called out into the night, desperate to see any sign of the lean cat. Nothing again.

You continued to call for Yume, walking deeper and deeper into the dense forest. It was getting darker the further you walked away from your cottage, making it hard to see the sharp stones and slick moss that covered the muddy forest ground. You reached into your pocket, fishing out the amulet that you always had on hand. It glowed. It didn’t give off light like a flame, but was enough to light your way.

The amulet let out a soft green hue as you continued to call for your cat, voice progressively getting more desperate. “Yume! Please!” You shout with a trembling voice, the biting cold and gripping fear threatening to push you down to your knees.

Meow!

You gasp, whipping around in a circle, trying to spot the source of the noise. You felt dizzy as you continued to turn, straining your eyes to peer through the thick trees and bushes. “Yume!” You yell again, continuing to turn in circles. “Yume! Please... Baby please,” You cry, bending to the will of your aching heart, falling to your knees. The wet, sloppy mud seeped through your pants. The rain splashing dirt on your face. But you couldn’t care less. “Yume...” You sniffled.

Meow

Yume called back, his call sounding just in front of you. You looked up, expecting to see just your little black cat with his green eyes and soft fur, but what was actually in front of you threw you into a living nightmare. You froze, your heart dropping as you hyperventilated, lungs burning from the cold. You couldn’t move. Your eyes locked onto the scene in front of you, like a cruel form of torture.

There, Yume was hanging by his scruff, in the mouth of a giant wolf.

“Yume!” You shrieked, finding your voice again. You reached out for the black cat, shying away when you registered that a wolf was right there. “Nonono, Yume, please...” You lamented, covering your mouth as sobs threatened to bubble their way out of your throat.

But instead of the wolf dropping a dead carcass at your feet, it gently let Yume down, allowing the cat to run over to you and lick at your tears. You sniffled, reaching out a shaky hand to pull Yume towards you. You buried your face in Yume’s fur, letting out the sobs you were desperately holding in.

Yume let you hold him in the chilling rain, licking your face to comfort you. “You’re okay... You’re okay,” You choked out, hiccuping on air. Mew... Yume spoke up, nudging his sopping wet head against your cheek, as if saying, “It’s okay. We’re okay” Even if in your brain you knew everything should be fine now, that you should stop crying and get back home, you couldn’t move. Your tired heart chained you in place like a rock sunk to the bottom of the ocean.

It felt as if all the strength you were fiercely clinging onto while you wandered though the forest had slipped between your fingers like sand. You wanted to lay there in the mud and stay there until morning, but you knew you had to get yourself together. Yume was shivering, you were shivering, and it was dark. Yet you couldn’t move. You sheltered Yume inside your coat as you tried to pick up the scattered pieces of yourself, .

Whine...

You lifted your head from where you buried it in the wet cat's fur, catching the eye of the wolf you’d forgotten all about. It looked at you with drooping ears and a bent head, like a scolded puppy. It whined again, lifting one of its paws like it was going to step forward, but opting not to, hesitating. “You found him,” You whispered out, voice scratchy from the sobs that had wracked through your throat.

The wolf tilted his head in confusion. You would’ve too. Why are you talking to this animal like their Yume? Yume was special in a witchy way. He was your familiar. Like a loyal companion, but sassier. Yume was in tune with your emotions 9 times out of 10. Yume played around with you when you were happy, snuggled you when you were tired, and comforted you through times of panic and sadness. Yume understood you because he was made for you.

A wild wolf wasn’t

Yet, that didn’t deter you as you continued to speak. “Thank you...” You sniffled. You took a closer look at the wolf, looking it up and down. The same golden chestnut fur, now soaked and illuminated in a hue of green from the amulet that currently laid in the mud. Despite the lack of light, its yellow eyes seemed to glow. “Ah, you’re that wolf that was stuck in my snare...” You said, and the wolf took your friendly tone as an invitation to get closer.

Slowly, it approached you, ears and head still down to look less intimidating. You were too emotionally exhausted to be scared again. That, or you subconsciously trusted the wolf more than you thought. “You must be cold,” You commented, staring at the wolf saturated coat. The wolf nudged at your own soaked coat, as if saying, “You too,” and you softly chuckled. It nudged you again, this time on your side, trying to get you to stand up. You didn’t. You couldn’t find the energy too, but the wolf kept nudging.

You gradually stood on trembling legs out of annoyance, tiring of the wolf’s persistence. You held Yume in your arms, still under your coat, as the wolf tugged at your dirty pant-leg. You took a step forward, and the wolf went on ahead until it realized you weren’t beside it. It jogged back, pulling on your pant-leg again. “You’re a weird one,” You mumbled out with a small smile, indulging the wolf by following it.

The wolf led you through the rain and mud. Looking back occasionally to check if you were still there. You didn’t know where it was leading you, but the trees thinned out, meaning you were moving away from the thick parts of the forest that are easy to get lost in. The storm continued to beat down on the three of you, creating a thin veil-like fog that hindered your ability to see.

But the wolf seemed unfazed as it continued to walk without fault, walking until an orange glow pierced through the fog. Your eyes widened when you realized it was your cottage. The wolf had led you back to your cottage. “Wha? How did you...?” You breathed out, looking down at the wolf who was now looking at you.

The wolf was definitely odd. It seemed more aware than the average lupus, like it could hear and understand you. Like it knew what you needed. Strange, no doubt, but you were a witch, you experienced strange things all the time. Hell, the entire forest you lived in was renowned for being supernatural and “dangerous” as in, magical.

Birds often brought you pretty stones and flowers, the squirrels liked to share their food with you, and the plant life seemed to come alive around you. Nothing in your life was “normal”, it was all strange. The wolf was probably like the birds and squirrels. A forest helper of sorts.

So with that rationalization, you left it be.

You walked up to your porch, opening the front door and letting a wet Yume free in the house. You turned around, locking eyes with the wolf once again. It was a few yards away, sitting in your front garden, looking even more humongous next to your tiny daisies and tulips. It was waiting for you to go inside. “It’s cold...” You said, “And your wet...” The wolf tilted its head once again, unmoving. “I have towels... And a warm place to sleep until the morning,”

The wolf stayed seated.

“Come on,” You coaxed, patting your leg as an invitation for the wolf to move closer.

Slowly, the wolf stood up, trotting up to you and cautiously stepping into the house.

“It’s okay, they can’t hurt you anymore,”

“Just because they’re gone doesn’t mean the scars don’t burn,”

Out Now!

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jeongguk #jeon jeongguk #bts jungkook #bts #bts fic #bts werewolf au #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #jeon jeongguk x reader #bts fluff

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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years

Text

SECRET LOVE

Pairing: DBH!Connor X OC!Character

Words: 3.636

Warnings: smut, dominance (nothing too heavy), slightly rough Connor

Summary: Kat is a detective of the DPD and secretly dating one of her colleagues for a few weeks. After a long day, the only thing she is yearning for is a nice evening with her boyfriend to forget about all the idiots in the world. But sometimes ‘nice’ is not the wanted thing.

02. January 2039

05:26:07 PM

… and the only thing Kat wanted was a coffee, a hot shower, pizza and maybe watching a movie… But instead she pushed a junky around she had arrested thirty minutes ago as he was dealing nearby an elementary school.

The junky grunted as he stumbled forward, a bit clumsy on his feet, “Come on, sweetheart, be a bit more cautious with me. There is still a chance for the two of us to work out. I mean after everything we went through so far.”

“I don’t think so, asshole.”, Kat muttered and pushed the guy further through the department to put him finally into one of the detention cells. It was a pity that the cells had electrical doors nowadays, otherwise, she just could throw the key away.

“But darling-”

“Shut the fuck up and move.”, Kat spitted and pushed him around once again.

“You need help there, hon?”, Gavin asked with a lopsided smirk while he leant casually against his desk with crossed arms and legs.

Kat rolled with her eyes. That was another asshole she didn’t need right now. Not after such a long day. “No, thanks, I’m fine. There’s no need for you to get your hands dirty.”, Kat fired back.

“Oh, but Kat, I would love to get my hands dirty...with you. If you just could read my mind right now-”

“Then, I’m sure, I would puke straight into your ugly face.”, Kat hissed and was happy to reach the detention cell and to leave Gavin, the biggest asshole of the DPD, behind. Kat pushed the junky into the cell and closed the door with the scan of the palm of her hand.

“But, baby. You can’t leave me alone here. I’m afraid of the dark.”, the junky said with a disgusting smirk.

Kat closed her eyes, breathed in and counted to five to calm herself. She really needed the end of the work day or … her boyfriend.

“Hey, Chris! Where's Hank?”, Kat asked as she stopped by the abandoned desks of Hank and Connor. Neither the Lieutenant nor the android were around.

“They brought a suspect in ten minutes ago. I guess they’re still in the interrogation room.”, Chris answered and turned back to his own work. Kat considered if she should just wait til they were done or if she should visit them. She looked quickly around, her eyes fell on Gavin who spoke to a colleague. If he would see her sitting around alone, he would come over to her - the last thing she wanted.

So, Kat decided to sneak into the interrogation room. An officer sat at the desk and controlled the camera and the microphone. Hank sat next to him and observed the interrogation room through the one-way mirror. Kat closed the door softly but Hank noticed her nevertheless. He greeted her with a quick nod before he looked back ahead to his partner.

Kat knew about their latest case. An android had killed its owner and they had searched for it for a while. Since the successful revolution, these kinds of attacks were rare but they happened from time to time. Hank and Connor were still assigned to these cases and now, as they had found the suspect, it was Connor’s turn to question the android.

Connor wore still his grey jacket and his typical white suit shirt underneath but the android markings were gone. The blue band around his arm and the android label on his back were both removed. He was no longer property of CyberLife but he got used to the style of clothes, so he had decided to keep them. Even the black tie was still around his neck. Kat liked to watch the android no matter what he did.

That was one of the reasons why she had said yes as Connor had asked her out several weeks ago. He had been nervous as hell, Kat had seen it in his eyes and his insecure expression but she had said yes and till now, it was the best decision she had ever made when it came to men. To date an android was interesting and new. She had expected it to be more awkward but there was nothing that felt uncomfortable with him.

Connor was extremely nice, the complete difference to all her ex-boyfriends before. He acted as a real gentleman and treated her right. Always. Til this day, Kat didn’t regret getting into a relationship with Connor. But they kept it secretly to avoid any unwanted attention - mostly of Gavin who already had made it to his personal mission to torture Connor whenever he could. It is not for nothing that Kat always called him Detective 'douchebag' Reed.

Kat enjoyed watching Connor interview a suspect. She had seen it several times before but each time, she was amazed by his skill to get a confession. Sure, his analyzing program was helpful to find clues before the suspect even spoke a word but it was for his special ability to piece these information together in no time that made the difference.

"Is this the android who killed its owner? Have you found it finally?", Kat asked curiously. Hank nodded.

"At least, that's what the eye witnesses said. They saw it running away but it came back one night. Maybe Connor will get something out of it.", Hank explained and Kat was sure the android would be successful. She was glad that she came to the right moment.

Connor sat across the suspect, an MC500 model. An android for paramedic purposes. The victim had been a dealer, maybe there was a connection. But this one android was rigged up with dirty skin and clothes which were damaged. This model reminded Kat always of a Ken-like guy but this one seemed to be living on the street or it had experienced some bad times.

Connor considered the best approach. He considered a friendly way to gain his trust but the android in front of him seemed to have experienced a few rough things so, maybe, it wouldn't be impressed by kindness and wouldn't fall for it. The android's right arm was covered with deep scars which were glowing blue and even its chest seemed to be damaged, visible through the shrewd fabric. The best way would be a more aggressive one. Maybe if he would scare it, it would talk more easily.

Kat watched how Connor skimmed through the case file and the pictures with his long, slender fingers. She saw him stopping at some pictures, probably searching for the right way to start.

Several minutes passed before Connor looked at the handcuffed android. "What's your name?", Connor asked directly to start the interview slowly. His smooth voice sounded like honey and Kat was looking forward to seeing her boyfriend doing his job. After this rough day of chasing a junky through half of Detroit’s city, she needed some eye candy.

"So, you want to stay silent, huh?", Connor said and stood up more aggressively than necessary. With crossed arms, he walked around the table and towered above the other android. He looked down at it with a stern expression. His brows were drawn together and his brown eyes were gleaming darkly. Suddenly, Connor freed his hands and slammed them violently on the metal surface of the table. The booming sound echoed through the interrogation room and Kat jumped a little. Surprised, she watched how Connor lowered towards the android to be on the same level while he was still towering him.

"Just because androids aren't slaves anymore doesn't mean that you can run around and kill humans.", Connor grunted deeply. "You're accused of murder,", he said low but threatening, "Crimes like this will be punished. You hear me?", Connor asked, still very threatening.

With huge eyes, Kat watched how Connor grabbed the android by its collar to pull it up to his eye level.

"Do you hear me? I swear you will be sent back to CyberLife." he threatened. "They will switch you off and tear you apart piece by piece!", he screamed into the android's face. The android winced and shuddered. But Connor just tightened his grip on the fabric. "You're just a fucking murderer! A cold blooded piece of shit who killed an innocent human!", Connor spat poisonously and let the android drop back on its chair.

With an open mouth, Kat looked shocked at Connor who had cursed in front of her for the first time. He acted aggressive. He screamed. He became physical. She had never seen him like this before. Her mind was racing to process what she had seen and heard. His voice was dark, deep and demanding. He was dominant and the boss in this room who showed off his power. Kat was speechless and became… turned on.

"I… I don't want to be destroyed…", the android whispered weakly.

But Connor didn't seem to be impressed. Instead, he waited and stared down at the android unemotional. He waited a few more moments before he slammed his hands on the surface again. "I don't care what you want! The victim also didn't have a chance to decide if he wanted to die or not. You took that chance from him!", Connor said low but powerful.

This low voice shot goosebumps down Kat's spine.

"But just because he attacked me first!", the android screamed back desperately to explain himself and that was the breaking point. Connor sat back on his place across the android and listened to the confession. Hank was also listening but Kat had difficulties to follow the interrogation. Several times, she tried to concentrate but her mind was always drifting back to the demanding voice and rough behavior of Connor.

Kat felt that something rose inside her. She knew the hot feeling that rose deep in her core all too well. And she knew the reason behind that feeling: Connor. Connor had turned her on so much with his aggressive way that she wasn't able to concentrate anymore.

Kat sneaked out of the room. Neither Hank nor the officer had noticed her disappearance. In the hallway, she leant against the wall next to the door and stemmed her hands into her sides. She tried to calm her thoughts but intense pictures were running in front of her eyes and fueled her lust even more. Her mind was running wild.

Several minutes later, the door opened and awoke Kat from her trance. The officer left the room with the android and Hank by its side. Connor followed them. Kat grabbed Connor by his arm to pull him towards her.

"Oh, hey, Kat- what's wrong?", Connor asked, concerned as he saw Kat's dark eyes.

But she just dragged the puzzled Connor after her, down the hallway and slipped into the next available room.

"That's the male bathroom, Kat.", Connor explained softly but she pressed her hand over his mouth.

"I don't care.", Kat said low. She saw the confusion in Connor's eyes. "I saw you. During the interrogation. What was that?"

"What do you mean?", Connor asked with a raised brow.

"You were cursing! You were aggressive and dominant. I had no idea you could be like this!"

"It was a tactic to approach the suspe-", Connor explained matter of factly.

Kat stopped him from speaking once again. "I don't care, Connor. You turned me extremely on with this behavior and for ten minutes, I can't think of anything else than how you acted in this room.", Kat whispered low but heavy. Connor noticed her aroused manner. Slowly, Kat removed her hand from his mouth.

"So, you liked that, huh?", Connor asked low and straightened himself to his full height.

Kat nodded slowly with a lopsided smirk. She moved her hands up and down his chest but Connor reacted quickly.

He grabbed her wrists and pressed her against the door with his lower body while he shoved her hands above her head. "You like it rough, baby girl?", he asked with a deep voice and dark eyes. Connor watched how she gnawed on her lower lip while she was nodding. Connor lowered his head but stopped inches from her lips to tease her. Kat tried to escape his hands but he just tightened the grip. Only then, he crashed his lips on hers for a hungry kiss.

Kat moaned and arched her back to greet his chest with her breasts. Connor understood the hint and changed his grip around her hands. With one hand, he held both of her wrists while he stroked along her side with his right hand. Teasingly and very slowly, he slid his fingers down her ribcage to her hip. Then, he slipped underneath her shirt and stroked up to her chest. Kat's breath quickened as Connor reached her breast to squeeze it softly. Kat enjoyed it and let her head fall back against the door.

Connor took the chance and bit into her neck with the right amount of pressure to make her moan again.

"Connor…", she whispered raspy with closed eyes.

"Yes? What can I do for you?", he asked but his voice was filled with dominance.

"I- I need you…", she breathed low and Connor released her hands. Kat took the opportunity and dug her fingers into his soft hair. She looked into his eyes. A cheeky smirk played on his lips. Before Kat could say anything, Connor grabbed her ass, raised her up and brought her over to the sink to place her there on top. Kat snaked her legs around his waist, grabbed his tie and pulled him down to kiss him passionately. Both his hands worked his way up and down her body while Kat rolled her hips against him to increase the friction.

Connor dug his fingers into Kat's long, braided hair and pulled her head back to get a good spot on her neck. He kneaded her breast and played with her hardened nipple through the fabric which caused her to moan his name once again. He kissed up and down her neck before he bit down.

"Uh… not that strong…", Kat cried out but her voice was filled with pure lust.

"I just want to make sure that you know that you're mine. And only mine.", Connor whispered husky against her skin.

"I.. I'm just yours, Connor.", Kat admitted raspy.

"Well, that didn't sound very convincing.", Connor said and stepped back from Kat who was already a mess. Her hair was tousled, her lips were swollen and her clothes askew.

As she saw Connor stepping away from her, she was shocked. Kat jumped from the sink and stepped forward to reach him but Connor stepped back until she stopped.

"Turn around.", Connor commanded low. His eyes held an arrogant expression.

"W-what?", Kat asked, confused. She was overwhelmed by the situation. By his dominant way and his strong voice.

"I said, turn around!", he said, more demanding than before.

Kat followed his instructions. She turned around and stood in front of the mirror. She looked at herself and untied her hair because the braided tail was already disheveled. Connor closed up to her from behind. And Kat watched him through the mirror coming closer.

"Look at me!", Connor said deeply into Kat's left ear. Just his voice shot goosebumps down her spine and she shuddered, already filled with lust. Connor towered behind her and stroked over her hips to the button of her jeans to open it. He opened the zipper slowly to slip his right hand inside.

Kat's knees started to wobble as she felt Connor's hand slowly moving forward down her slip. As he touched it, Kat felt how soaked the fabric already was.

"Oh, you're really in this mood, aren't you, baby girl?", Connor whispered.

Kat nodded while she bit down on her lower lip. She squirmed against his chest the longer he teased her over the fabric. As Kat started to roll with her hips to grind her ass against him, Connor moved his hand underneath the fabric of the soaked slip. Kat cried out with relish as she felt Connor's fingers sliding between her folds. He stopped his moves and placed his other hand over her mouth.

"You have to be more quiet or someone will hear us. If you're too loud I fear I have to stop. Got it?", Connor asked and removed his hand slowly to move it down to her neck. His long fingers were laying softly around her throat. "Say it!", he demanded with his lips sliding on the outer rim of Kat's ear.

"I have to be more quiet. Please, continue…", Kat begged desperately what caused Connor to grin.

He waited a few more seconds and concentrated on Kat's rapid heartbeat and her erratic pulse caused by him. Her chest was moving uneven and she was shuddering against him. Very slowly, Connor slipped two of his fingers back into her. Kat's hot core was dripping wet and his fingers were covered in seconds. "You feel that?", Connor whispered as he pushed his fingers a bit deeper inside her.

"Y-yes…", Kat nodded and whimpered low to stay quiet.

Connor looked Kat in the eyes through the mirror. "That's me inside of you, Kat.", he said smirking and pushed deeper. "I know how much you love my hands on your body.", he said low and moved his left hand to her breast to knead it slowly. "And my fingers inside of you like this.", he continued and pumped into her again.

Each time he did that, Kat shuddered more and more. She felt her core tightening.

Connor noticed that she was close, so he removed his hand a bit to extend the moment. "Kat", Connor said to get her attention, "Tell me you're mine.", he demanded, breathing against her ear. She looked him straight in the brown eyes which were sparkling darkly.

"I-I'm yours…", Kat whispered low between two heavy breaths.

"I can't hear you. What did you say, baby girl?", Connor asked innocently. But his dark voice compared with the nickname gave her goosebumps again.

"I'm just yours, Connor.", Kat said more clearly.

"Exactly, you are just mine! No one else is allowed to touch you! Got it?", Connor said as a statement and Kat had to obey.

"I said: got it?", Connor asked again, smirking and slipped his hand back down her slip.

"Yes…", Kat breathed husky as she felt Connor's long, slender fingers deep inside of her.

"Repeat it! I want to hear it from your sweet lips.", Connor commanded and pumped rhythmically into her in the way Kat liked the most.

"I-I'm just yours. No one else is allowed to touch me…", Kat repeated breathless.

"Good, baby girl. Now, would you like me to finish you?", he whispered raspy into her ear. He looked Kat straight into her lust filled eyes with a devilish smirk.

"Yes, please. I- I can't take it anymore.", she begged and watched the lopsided smirk growing bigger on his lips.

Connor adjusted the position of his hand and rubbed along her clit while his fingers were pumping steadily into her.

Kat's breath fastened, she closed her eyes while she leant her head back against his chest.

"Fuck damnit, Connor...", Kat moaned raspy as he pumped to her climax.

"Kiss me!", Connor demanded.

Kat's mind was spinning but she managed to turn her head to the right.

Connor crashed his lips on hers in the same moment Kat cried out because of the orgasm washing over her. He continued his moves to intensify the feeling for her even more.

As she stopped being too loud, he left her lips and watched her amazed how she enjoyed her satisfaction with closed eyes.

Kat was still jerking as he removed his hand from her slowly. She leant against the sink to catch her breath. As she was slowly recovering, her heartbeat slowed down and she straightened herself to smooth her clothes.

"Was it good?", Connor asked and smirked as he watched Kat coming clear.

"You have outdone yourself, babe.", Kat said smiling but still a bit breathless. She walked over to her boyfriend and kissed him lovely while she flung her arms around his neck.

"I had no idea you could be like that."

"Yeah...but if I shall be honest, I would like to keep that in the interrogation room.", Connor admitted.

"Well...but from time to time…", Kat said with a wink and let the sentence unspoken.

Connor chuckled, cupped her chin to raise it so he could meet her lips for another sweet and caring kiss.

"I will see you at home?", Connor asked low. Kat looked into his soft brown eyes and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm already looking forward to it.", Kat answered and checked her appearance in the mirror. She smoothed her hair one last time before she went to the door to step out. "Watch it, dipshit!", Kat snapped as she left the bathroom. She pushed Gavin aside who looked confused at her as he was about to enter the restroom.

"Wrong restroom, you idiot!", Gavin called out and shook his head. Kat's only response to him was showing her middle finger while she went into the kitchen for a coffee. Gavin was about to open the door to the restroom once again as the next person stepped out and almost crashed into him.

"Watch i-", Gavin started but stopped as he noticed Connor in front of him who fixed the knot of his tie while he walked through the door.

"Detective Reed.", Connor said politely with a nod and passed a speechless looking Gavin to go back to his desk.

"But- what the hell.", he muttered, confused before he entered the restroom finally.

#dbh connor #dbh #connor #detroit connor #connor dbh #detroid become human #detroit become human connor #detroit become human #dbh connor x reader #smut #smutday #rough #rk800connor #detroit become human rk800 #rk800 #connor rk800

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lexwritess · 3 years

Text

Taken [P.P]

Inspired by this tiktok

Pairings- Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader, Steve Rogers x platonic!reader, Steve Rogers x Daughter!Reader

warnings- abuse, abduction, fighting, mentions of blood, fighting, swearing, angst, scars

Word count: 2825

a/n: in this fic tony, nat, and steve are still alive and here. may is dead :( sorry it just fit in better like that.

Italics are translations

“Have you see anyone yet?” You hear Tony ask through your ear piece.

“No not yet...I’m going to peek behind this building.” You reply. You were currently on a mission with Tony, Wanda, Sam, Steve, and Peter. Steve and Tony usually don’t allow you and Peter do go on missions together because your first instinct is to always protect each other, and Tony knows how overprotective Peter is. But they decided that they needed both of your abilities to complete today’s mission.

“Okay be careful, you’re getting pretty close to the unit.” You hear Natasha.

You were investigating an old HYDRA unit. Even though HYDRA has been destroyed, you and the team think there are still people trying follow through with their plans.

You move from the Pilar you were hiding behind and just as you take the first footstep bullets start flying your way.

You use your powers and create a force field around your body as your eyes turn from Y/E/C to your signature neon green.

You created green energy orbs with your hands and shot them at the attackers.

“There’s people now guys. I’m west from the unit, lots more people are coming out so please hurry.” You breathe out.

They started getting close enough that you needed to go to hand-to-hand combat.

Two were coming at you at the same time. You gave one a swift punch to the head, your arm glowing green in the process giving you extra strength. The other one was coming behind you but before they could do anything you grabbed his arm and flipped him over your head.

More men started rushing towards you and you weren’t sure you could hold them off much longer.

“Guys there’s about 30 agents here now!” You say frantically into your mic.

“We’re coming, just hold them off a little longer you got this!” Steve encourages.

“Y/n, be careful please.” You hear Peter’s wavering voice.

“Don’t worry.” You pause ducking into a split from an agents hit, punching him in the nuts.

You flip back up from the ground and get back to a fight stance.

One comes at you shooting a gun. You quickly from a force shield and run towards the guy. You jump onto his back and climb up onto his shoulders. You make him spin around while his gun is firing, shooting all the men surrounding you.

You jump off his back and start firing your energy orbs wherever you can. The amount of agents surrounding you now is getting over whelming.

There’s about 6 men trying to fight you up close. Your trying to battle them out but some of them are laying some good hits on you.

You feel a sharp sting, you can quite identify what caused it. Just as you go to look, 4 of the agents have been knocked down.

You check your surrounds to see what caused the men to fall and see caps shield. You smile and let a breath out knowing you have a little extra help now.

“Thanks cap!” You shout over to him. He nods with a smile and runs over to you and starts fighting by your side.

“Where’s everyone else?” You ask while knocking an agent out.

“They’re coming. We got stuck at one of the buildings.” He replies knocking down one of the last agents. You know it won’t be the last one but you have some time to cool off for a while.

You nod and pace around, catching your breath. You look down and an agent lets out a groan and moves a little. You give him a quick kick and he’s out again.

“Hey did you see this?” You hear Steve ask.

You turn around and see him holding a used syringe.

You get nervous and start to think maybe they was the pinch you felt earlier while fighting.

“Steve check my neck and see if there’s anything.” You ask.

He walks over to you and tilts your head up to exam your neck.

“Shit...Y/N/N.” Steve sighs.

“Okay, it’s nothing to worry about Nothing’s happening.” You shrug.

“Yeah yet.” Steve turns away.

Steve is very protective over you. He’s basically your father. He found you hiding during the battle of New York. You had a pretty traumatic life. Getting abducted by HYDRA at the age of 4, getting powers due to the experiments, your parents dying, but hey now Captain America basically raised you and you’re an Avenger dating a boy with spider powers.

You look around once again and see more agents coming your way. You tap Steve and tell him to get ready.

In the other direction you see the rest of your team coming. Now you might actually be able to get into the unit.

Everyone has attackers swarming them you can barley see each other. You find it suspicious that they keep eyeing you though. But before you can finish your thought a pistol came to your head and you blacked out.

You woke up in an unfamiliar room. You’re surrounded by grey walls and strange tech equipment.

You groan out in pain. Your whole body aches and you can feel your head pounding.

You go to get up, but you’re body is restricted.

You look and see you’re body is tied up to the cold metal seat. You try to use your powers to break free, but you are left to see you’re powers aren’t working anymore.

“What the hell?” You mutter to yourself, wondering why and how your powers abruptly stopped working.

“Hello Miss Y/L/N...” A cold voice rang throughout your ears.

Your head shot up to see who it was. The man was tall with dark grey hair. He was wearing a suit and the other two people behind him were as well.

“Who are you?” You grunt out, struggling against your restraints. Damn maybe you shouldn’t of skipped out on training last week.

“Well if you must know, we are the remaining members of HYDRA. We and a couple more people have joined again to finally carry out our plans.” The one in the middle tells you. You assume he’s the leader.

“Why did you take me? Out of everyone else?” You ask them.

The man raises an eyebrow at you and then smirks. “You, dear Y/n, are one of the most important people on the team. They all care for you so deeply it’s disgusting. And quite frankly we aren’t finished with you.” The man hunches over so his eyes can meet yours.

You scrunch your nose up as he inches close to your face.

“You have something of ours.” The man tells you.

“I don’t have anything.” You say.

“Liar!” The man yells and strikes you in the face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You shout at the man, blood trickling from your nose into your mouth.

The man scowls at you and says something in German. Another man walks over with a knife in his hand.

He was younger then the man, he looked to be about 30.

The men all discuss while glancing at you every couple seconds. You try to hear what they’re saying but it’s all German.

You glance around the room and see there’s a camera in the corner. The light is blinking so that means they’ve been recording your whole interaction.

The younger man kneels beside you and places the blade on your arm.

“Where is our Grün serum?” The man persists.

“I told you I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You cry.

“Tu es.” The gray hair man mumbles and you feel the blade sink into your skin.

You scream out in pain. The pain never resides, you wanted to see what he was carving but the sight of your mangled skin would freak you out even more.

“I didn’t take anything!” You weep.

You start yelling in agony again when the man starts carving on a new section of skin.

“PETER!” You scream out, maybe just a little bit of hope if he was still around he’d hear your screams.

At the Avengers compound

“PETER!” They hear your painful screams through the monitor.

Peter breaks into a sob. Hearing you yell for him and he’s not able to save you kills him.

“Shut it off I can’t watch anymore.” Steve says and looks away.

“I wish we could, but we need to see if they say anything.” Sam says trying to remain calm.

“Did you find the location yet?” Tony asks Natasha.

“Almost, five more minutes.” She responds.

The team looks at the monitor as the man comes to eye level with the camera.

“If you want your girl back you must surrender to us. For now she’s hydras property.”

And with that the monitor went static.

“I’m leaving.” Peter stands up.

“Kid you can’t leave. We gotta strategize first. You can’t leave without the team.” Tony demands.

“I don’t care!” Peter shouts.

“She is being tortured and she doesn’t have her powers! Without them she’s just a teenage girl, she’s going to die!” Peter grits his teeth in anger and starts to exit.

Wanda uses her powers and drags him back to his seat.

He huffs and slouches into his seat, tears brimming his eyes.

“Did you at least find where they’re keeping her?” Peter asks, his voice tired and raspy.

“No, I thought I was close but the coordinates are false.” Natasha replies, defeated.

“Then why are we here! I’m so tired of your stupid plans! We never follow them anyway. Y/n is going to die! Die! Do you not understand what that means?” Peter starts screaming and crying as the team starts rushing towards his side.

“Peter it’s okay, we’re going to find-.” Peter cuts Sam off.

“It’s not okay!” Peter’s voice cracks. “I keep losing everyone I care about. My parents, uncle Ben, and now May...I can’t lose Y/n.” Peter walks out of the room, he needs air.

“He’s not wrong Tony.” Steve says, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill.

“Go talk to him. Calm him down, I’ll figure something out.” Tony says and Steve exits.

Steve walks out to the balcony where Peter stands.

“Hey queens.” Steve says softly to Peter.

“Hey.” Peter says, his voice just above a whisper.

“Listen I know exactly how you feel. She’s my kid! I’m mean I know not actually but she might as well be...I want to get up and go after he just as much as you do. I don’t think they moved locations. I believe they’re still at the facility.” Steve explains.

Peter takes a glance at Steve. He nods his head, after cooling off he realizes there should probably be a plan. He still would rather leave though.

“So that’s exactly what we’re doing.” Steve stands up straight getting ready to go.

“W-what? Seriously?” Peter asks with wide eyes.

“Yeah, kid cmon get your suit on.” Steve motions for him to go and Peter immediately starts walking with him.

“Mr. Stark is going to kill me.” Peter breathes out.

Peter and Steve were in a car that Steve “borrowed.” He didn’t want to be tracked down.

“It’ll fine. He’ll understand...eventually.” Steve huffs.

“So what made you change your mind?” Peter breaks the silence.

Steve bites his lip while thinking.

“Y-you I guess.” Steve let’s put a breathy laugh.

“Seeing how determined you were just reminded me I can’t just sit here. I’ve never been on to just sit and wait. And this weekends Father’s Day... I would always make sure she’s happy that day because I know how it can be not having your dad.”Steve pauses.

“You can join to of you want.” Steve smiles.

“O-okay yeah.” Peter smiles back, but on the inside he wants to cry, he’s never had someone offer him something like that before.

At The HYDRA Unit

You feel awful. Your whole body aches, your skin burns, you can feel the cuts on your arms are infected.

Looking down at your arm you see the man carved “HYDRAS PROPERTY.”

You feel dirty, you’re tired, and maybe even getting sick. You don’t know what they injected you with or what they’re planing to do but it’s really taking a toll on your mental and physical health. The abuse doesn’t make what’s going on in your body any better.

“I just want to go home.” You cry out, your voice broken.

“You can’t...you are the final step.” The man gets inches away from your face.

You get fed up and spit in his face.

“Curva dracului! Damn you whore!”The man shouts and cracks you across the face.

Maybe you shouldn’t of done that, but damn it was worth it.

You can’t help but laugh. You’re used to the beatings and you’re delirious at this point

“You think this is funny?” The man sneers at you.

“Hilarious.” You reply.

Before the man can do anything, a loud crash was heard.

The man glared at you before running towards the source of the noise.

A couple seconds later you hear bangs and grunts, you’re assuming it’s a fight.

A little bit of you hopes it’s Peter.

You see a man blasted across the wall and a red-suited figure follow.

“Spider-Man!” You say with the the first genuine smile in a long time.

“Hold on Y/n I’ll be right there!” Peter shouts and webs up another agent.

Peter comes over and unties you. Once your finally free you pull Peter into a bone crushing embrace.

“I missed you so much.” You mumble against his chest.

“I missed you.” He says while caressing your head.

“Cmon guys we gotta go before anyone else comes after us.” Steve urges.

Peter picks you up and runs back outside towards the car.

“Okay go!” Peter tells Steve.

“Seatbelts.” Steve says.

“There’s people literally shooting at us and you’re waiting till we put our seatbelts on?” Peter complains.

Steve doesn’t say anything and Peter rolls his eyes.

“Alright there go!” Peter yells.

And with that Steve slams on the gas and leaves the facility.

“I know I’ve already asked you this but are you sure you’re okay?” Peter asks you. It’s been a week since your rescue and he’s still treating you like your glass.

“Yes Peter I’m perfect.” You smile and kiss him sweetly.

Bruce and Tony worked together so you finally got your powers back.

You feel a lot better now that you’re back home with everyone you love, but you can’t help me bothered by the scaring of HYDRAS PROPERTY on your arm. Will you actually always be apart of them?

“Y/n, I know somethings on your mind...what’s up?” Peter asks concerned.

“Nothing...just look.” You pull your sleeve up and show him the healing scars.

“Baby listen to me...you’re not apart of them. You’re apart of the avengers and they can’t control you anymore. I won’t let them get you ever again i promise.” Peter pulls you into his warm embrace.

“Thank you so much Peter...I love you.” You whisper.

“You love me?” Peter whispers back.

“Yeah I do, I love you a lot Pete.” You smile.

“I love you too, Y/n.” Peter smiles back and kisses you passionately.

You giggle and pull away.

“Alright let’s focus on today.” You say.

“Do you think Steve will be happy about his gift?” You question Peter.

It’s Father’s Day and since Steve has always treated you like his own daughter, you got adoption papers to make it official.

“Of course! He’s going to love it!” Peter reassures you.

“Hey Steve!” You walk into the living room where him Natasha, and Bucky are sitting.

“Hey Y/N/N, are you and Peter ready for lunch?” He asks you while patting a seat beside him for you to sit.

“Yeah we’re ready, but before we go I got you a gift actually.” You smile.

“You didn’t have to get me a gift.” Steve smiles back.

“Well I did so here.” You let out a shaky breath and handed him the papers.

“If you want, I got the adoption papers so you could legally be my guardian. I know it’s a little difficult when I get into trouble at school and they need to see my ‘parent’ and you always the one that comes. You’re the one that’s always there when I need a parental figure, so thank you. Happy Father’s Day, Steve. I love you.”

“Y/n...” Steve pauses which kind of scared you.

“Of course I’ll be your dad. What do I have to do! Just sign?” Steve says with the biggest grin.

“Yeah, yeah just right there and it’ll be official.”

Steve signs the paper and stands up.

“Alright celebratory lunch! C’mon official daughter. And Peter you come too.” Steve grabs you and Peters arms as you walk out the door.

*Bonus*

“Nat, are you...are you crying?” Bucky asks Natasha.

“It was a sweet moment! If you ever tell anyone I’ll kill you.”

Tag list

@bubblicious-trashcan

@caswinchester2000

#bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #marvel #peter parker #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter Parker smut #peter Parker angst #steve rogers x daughter!reader #dad!steve rogers #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

Hope: The Smuggler

A continuation on this little piece I posted a couple of days ago. Just something small knocking around inside my mind.

CW: Escaped pet whumpee, BBU, guns, scarring, referenced past torture, ~mysterious world-building references~

“Allie!” Gyasi hops down from the truck, the tread of her work boots crunching into the rock salt scattered over the road to melt the ice.

Snowflakes are already starting to drift down, landing in Gyasi’s hair and laying white and beautiful against her black braids pulled back low at her neck. They melt a moment later, but it’s definitely snowing a little more than it was a half an hour ago, and Allie’s sure there’ll be another big buildup tonight.

Allie’s mouth always goes a little dry when Gyasi is in town, and she has to lock her knees not to have them wobble as she gives her most welcoming smile. “Welcome back, Gya.”

“Always a pleasure.” Gyasi crushes her in a hug. The other woman only comes up to Allie’s nose, and still she feels sort of helpless at every touch. Funny, how she’s the deputy head of security for Hope, and still someone as slim and slight as Gyasi can make her fall to pieces. “I got a team of six this time, all names you know. We’re going in with seven rescues and a couple libbers with pretty big felony convictions about to come down, hopefully coming back with a metric fucking ton of insulin, plus the usual other shit.”

“Great.” Allie has to clear her throat to keep her voice from coming out husky and trembling. She pulls back from the hug, looking over the truck. The man sitting in the passenger seat gives her a wave, and after a second Allie remembers him, too - Charlie or Chuck. Another truck pulls up behind that, and then a van. “We’ll be sending you in one vehicle at a time. Once we get clearance the first makes it through, we’ll send the next.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know how it goes. Rescues first-” Gyasi points to the van. “Then our libbers go in the truck. Chaz and I’ll bring up the rear.”

Right, Chaz. Allie always forgets his name.

“And if you’re caught-”

“I know, Allie-cat. I was never here, there’s no road through the woods, we snuck through an hour east of here.” Gyasi reaches up to pat the side of her face, and Allie wonders if she’s just going to black out one day when Gya does that. “We didn’t give you away the last time one of us got picked up, we won’t this time, either. Trust me.”

“I try to,” Allie says, voice softening a little. It’s hard, to be soft - her life has been one of needing to always be sharp-edged, ready to kill or fight on command. Softness came only after she made it here, and even then only with time. “You know I try to trust you, Gya.”

“Well, try harder, because I’m trustworthy.” Gyasi laughs, deep and rich, and then her eyes shift to the side. Her smile, wide and bright, starts to fade slightly. It returns a little faded, unsure. "We have a watcher, Al.”

“What?” Allie turns to look over her shoulder, instinctively tensing at the possibility of a threat - and then relaxes. “Oh. He’s, uh. He’s shy. That’s our new kid, he came up from Florida.”

“Oof, what a long trip.”

“You’re not wrong. Leslie said he needed to be in No Man’s Land, although she refused to say why. Come on over here, kiddo!”

If Gyasi tops out with her hair not quite high enough to touch Allie’s nose, Esteban doesn’t even clear her shoulders. He’s a skinny, short thing, drowning in a huge canvas winter coat he’d arrived in. His cheeks and the tip of his nose are bright red from the cold he’s still getting used to, and he’s got big thick black gloves on, a woven knit cap pulled down to cover his ears, dark brown curls sticking out all around it, brown eyes sparkling.

Leslie had left him with fleece-lined jeans, heavy socks and a promise to wear two pairs with his boots, all the sweaters you could imagine, and strict admonitions not to try and go without gloves just because some of the others who’ve been here longer do.

His breath puffs out in front of him as he jogs over from where he’d been lurking at the side of the admin building (well... it’s really just Brock’s house). “H-hey, Allie.”

"You look frozen, Esteban.”

“It’s not so bad,” Esteban says, cheerful as always, even as his nose looks like Rudolph on a bad day. “I’m getting used to it. I wanted to watch the trucks! Who is this? Are these new people like me?”

“Oh, I’m not like you,” Gyasi says, without judgement, but Allie still sees Esteban’s shoulders hunch a little under his layers, catches the embarrassed flush that darkens him even under the cold. “Gyasi Templeton’s the name. I run meds, mostly. And people.”

“Run...?” Esteban’s curiosity overcomes his mood, and he turns to look at the two trucks and the big van, then back at Allie.

“I’m a smuggler,” Gyasi announces happily. “I smuggle.”

“Right.” Allie points to the van first. “Her group does runs to Canada through here. Meds, runaways, pet lib groups. Other stuff that it might be hard for us to get hold of on this side of the border, Gya’s group can bring through here.”

“Technically, we go through there.” Gyasi points, gesturing to the forest just visible at the horizon, the soft smudged line of dark green and brown. “It’s a bumpy road, let me tell you, halfway up a fucking mountain and back, uh.. you said Esteban?”

“Yeah,” Esteban’s replies, shyly, half-hidden behind Allie. “That’s my name.”

“You pick it out?” Gyasi’s not really that interested, just making conversation. Allie can see her distraction - she’s in a hurry to get moving, hoping to make it through the trees before nightfall and the snow make things too difficult or dangerous and force them to wait it out.

Esteban, though, doesn’t seem to notice. “Yes! Dr. Osmond let me choose my own name, he was very kind to me. He was very kind.”

Allie swallows, jaw setting into a firm line, shoulders tensing. She, after all, has seen what the kids hands look like under those gloves. Scarred and with one pinky permanently bent, one of his other fingers doesn’t even close.

“No, he wasn’t,” Gyasi says, and she glances back at the truck, with its engine still rumbling.

“What?” Esteban blinks.

“Nobody kind has a runaway Boxie who goes this fucking far to get away from them.”

Esteban looks away, something shifting in his expression. Allie, as a rule, doesn’t give a fuck about sob stories. She has her own, and she’s heard so many on top of that. She stopped letting them sink into her skin a long time ago. But she finds herself wondering what Esteban’s expression - wistful, sad, but oddly bittersweet, too - could possibly mean.

“Ethan wasn’t nice,” He mumbles. “But Dr. Osmond was, in the lab where I was first.”

Then he gives Gyasi and Allie another bright smile, but it’s more brittle than it was before. “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” He says politely.

Allie frowns, though. “The lab, Estenban? You mean Facility, right?”

“The lab,” Esteban says patiently. “In the Facility. Where I grew up. I’m gonna go, it’s getting cold.”

“Wait, what do you-”

“Later, Allie.” He bumps his shoulder lightly against Allie’s arm as a kind of farewell, and crunches his way back out of the road and onto the sidewalk, heading in the direction of the adjustment house, the first place anyone stays until they’re ready to settle down.

Allie watches him go, a chill settling into her chest.

What lab? Where he grew up? Leslie said he came out of some exec’s house. And the exec sure wouldn’t be a doctor...

“Cute kid,” Gyasi says, startling Allie back out of her thoughts. “But we have a contact waiting for us at an auto shop in Nick’s Island. Next time we’ll get coffee, right, Allie-cat? And you’ll finally watch Clue with me?”

Allie feels something flutter in her chest. Esteban’s odd mysterious statements forgotten, she quickly nods. “Will do, Gya. Stay safe.”

“I never stay safe, it’d ruin my fun.” Gyasi crushes Allie briefly back into another hug, and then climbs back up into her truck, settling back in. “Let them know we’re going through, we’ll be there in ten or fifteen.”

Allie’s already pulling out her radio. “Your escort’ll be ready for you when you hit the path. You already paid up?”

“Yeah, I paid Brock half direct. You’ll get the other half of your cut when we come back.”

“Right. Half in cash, half in meds.”

“Same as always. See ya, Allie.”

Gyasi’s truck rumbles away, the second truck and then the van following after it. Allie radios the group working the road through the woods today, but her mind keeps going back to Esteban. Dr Osmond. A lab. Where I grew up.

Now what in the hell does that mean?

@finder-of-rings @burtlederp @astrobly @doveotions @whump-tr0pes @symphony-of-greys @orchidscript @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @wildfaewhump

#whump #whump ocs #guard dog box boy #bbu #box boy universe #bbu guard dog #box babe guard dog #box babe #recovering whumpees #escaped whumpee #scarred whumpee #gruff caretaker

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azureashes · 3 years

Text

Mess Her Up

NSFW 18+ ONLY, Minors DNI Summary: Levi Ackerman is just an ordinary gang member who receives an order he knows well. To mess her up. Only things don't turn out as he expects.

Pairings: Levi x OC, (Levi x Reader if you squint) Word count: 6.9 K Trigger warnings: Noncon, Dubcon, Blood Play, Knife Play, Gang Activity, Beatings, Masochism (?), Torture (?)

A young woman traipsed through the abandoned, yellowed stone alleyways, the sun shining high illuminating their surfaces and leaving deep shadows under the overhangs and archways. The buildings here were built out of stone centuries ago, in what must once have been an applauded endeavor in stone masonry but had since been abandoned for nearly as long. The beige tint of the stones set the image of a sepia landscape and was interrupted only by the flash of green of a rare tree or shrub in the area. It was a place that would look beautiful in pictures but was eerie in its abandoned echoes in person.

Her long hair trailed behind her and she smoothed down her skirts, clutching her cross-body purse as she climbed in her black flats lightly over the large stone steps that were clearly built for humans more intimidating than herself in size.

Spying a handsome young man leaning against the wall of a darkened alleyway, she marched towards him with renewed determination. His black hair was parted to the side falling loosely into his aloof face that looked displeased with the world in general. His stormy grey eyes were intent on the knife in his hand that he polished to a shine, glinting in the afternoon sunlight.

As she approached, his gaze flicked onto her, like a jaguar whose prey had fallen into his line of sight when he wasn’t interested in the hunt. A warning to back off.

“Excuse me,” she called, her voice ringing sweetly off the abandoned stone walls. He frowned at the young woman, irritation sparking in his eyes that she had disregarded his unspoken warning. “I’m looking for someone,” she continued obliviously.

Rummaging through her purse, she withdrew a photograph of a smiling young man with hair the shade of her own. “This is my brother. He hasn’t come home for three days. An elderly gentleman told me he had seen him somewhere around here. Do you think you could help me?” Her pleading tone of voice and wide, innocent eyes were met with a hardened, unmoved expression.

When he spoke, she was equally as surprised by the soothing quality of his voice as she was by the harsh, irritated tone he chose to speak in.

“Get lost, brat.”

She was taken aback by the rude rebuttal but, biting her lip, refused to back down. “Please,” she voiced, reaching out for his arm to convey her urgency, her eyes turned up to him desperately. He flinched at her touch and turned a livid glare in her direction. “Please,” she repeated, “He’s my only brother. I’m so worried about him.”

“Get your hands off me,” he hissed, his hands stilling in their movements where they were polishing the knife. She was suddenly struck by the realization that the gleaming switchblade in his hands was only a whim away from embedding itself in her flesh. That surely, him cleaning his knife meant it had recently been in use? Hesitantly, she withdrew her hand. “Can’t you help me?” she entreated again breathlessly.

“Is there something wrong with your ears? I said fuck off.” The scathing retort, clearly meant to scare her away, only served to have her dig in her heels in response. He hadn’t claimed not to know the young man in the photograph.

“Hey, Levi,” came a raspy voice from the shadows, “Who’s the visitor?”

When she turned her gaze towards the darkened alleyway, she found a tall, rugged blond standing there, his countenance partly veiled by the shadows, despite the brilliant sunlight.

“Tch.”

For whatever reason, the man’s sudden appearance served to irritate the black-haired man and he shot the strange girl a disparaging glance. One that seemed to read, “You brought this on yourself.”

Casting a wary glance at the raven-haired man - Levi, apparently, was his name - she sidestepped him to approach the blond man towering over her in the alleyway. Up close, she could see a thin scar running from one temple, down across the bridge of his prominent nose.

“Excuse me, sir,” she began, holding up the photograph, “Have you seen this man? He’s my brother and hasn’t been home in three days.”

Levi averted his gaze as the stupid woman made her stupid plea. Fools with no sense of danger could only blame themselves for whatever followed.

True to character, the blond took one look at the picture in her hand and laughed aloud, a deep, rumbling sound that grated against Levi’s ears and made the young woman hesitate uncertainly.

“Why, Levi,” the man chuckled, “it’s rude to leave a young woman standing outside like this. You should have shown her in.”

The long-haired woman looked from one man to the other nervously as she clung to the strap of her cross-body purse. Levi came up behind her with an irritated expression, as if she were severely wasting his time. Caught with the muscular man towering over her in front of her and Levi approaching from behind, all routes of escape were cut off. She swallowed nervously as Levi met her eye with a bored expression. “You heard the man,” he drawled, nodding towards the alleyway.

With apprehensive determination, she nodded and stepped into the darkness, bypassing the taller man who was still chuckling ominously to himself. Unable to see in front of her for the darkness, her footsteps slowed, and Levi, pressing a hand to her back, shoved her forwards. “Keep moving,” was the gruff command. His hand on her back felt warm – larger and stronger than she would have expected - and in the darkness, his low voice sounded as if he spoke directly into her ear, sending chills up her spine.

At length, he pushed open a door that was invisible to her in the darkness and she stepped into the light on the other side, blinking.

She had entered what appeared to be a large common room with mismatched sofas and tables in various states of disrepair scattered across the sprawling space. A generous refrigerator hummed loudly in a corner and a pool table with worn-out green felt stood off to the side. A single lightbulb flickered in a green lampshade that hung oddly, almost comically, to one side.

She noticed now, that the room was filled with people equally as intimidating as the man she had left behind, absorbed in drink, games, or tobacco and talk. Their muscular bodies implied that these were men who depended on their strength to survive, and the scars that decorated what she could see of their skin were evidence of the lengths they would go to, to do so. In comparison, she was small and insignificant, less than a morsel to the fearsome men in front of her. She clutched the photograph to her chest and stepped backwards, looking from one terrifying face to the other. When she bumped into a broad chest, she spun around in surprise, only to find Levi closing the door behind them, looking at her through unfeeling gray eyes down the bridge of his nose.

She backed away from him, intimidated, and found herself in the center of the room surrounded by the watchful eyes of men whose intentions she failed to read.

“Well, well, well...” voiced a gruff voice from the back of the room, With a gasp, she saw a tall, gangly man lying on a sofa hidden from view. His face was concealed by a cowboy hat but as he rose to his feet now, he replaced it on his head, covering his long, straggly gray hair. His low chuckle and his self-assured smirk confirmed what the silence in the room implied – this was the leader of the group.

“What do we have here?” The man marched right up to her and caught her chin in an unforgiving grip, as he lifted her eyes up to him. “Pretty little thing you brought in, Levi.”

Still, the raven-haired man behind her was silent and unmoving. The man with the cowboy hat suddenly caught sight of the photograph and with one fluid movement snatched it out of her hands. His eyes lit up in recognition and he lowered his head as a deep, sinister chuckle rumbled from his lips. “Well, isn’t this precious?” he barked with a laugh.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he waved the photograph in front of her face mockingly, “Who is this?”

“That’s-,” she took a deep breath for courage, “That’s my brother! If you know anything about his whereabouts, please tell me!” She lifted entreating eyes to the man, despite the sadistic amusement apparent on his features.

“Well...” he drawled, “We might know something.” He laughed, turning around and holding the picture up for the men gathered there to see, “Don’t we, boys?”

Raucous laughter erupted in the room at the girl’s poor fortune. “Listen here, girl,” he leaned in close until she could smell the unsavory mixture of tobacco, coffee, and alcohol on his breath, “Your brother has been our guest for the last couple of days. And he can’t leave here until we’ve shown him the full extent of our hospitality. That’s just good manners, isn’t it?”

“Is- is that so?” she stepped backwards, her eyes darting from one harsh, unforgiving face to another, “Well, then, I...”

“Oh, no you don’t,” the man had a lazy, laidback demeanor, but when his hand shot out to catch hold of her wrist, it was fast as the strike of a viper. He held her hand high, so that she had to stand on tiptoe to ease the pressure on her arm. “Now that you’re here, we can’t just let you leave. You’re our guest, too, aren’t you?”

He whirled her around and faced the men who had abandoned their card games and drinks to give their leader their full attention. “Who wants to show our princess here a good time? No one should be able to say that we treat our guests poorly, isn’t that right?”

A hum of agreement and low chuckles met his words as more men than she could count shouted back volunteering statements.

With one last burst of strength, she tore her hand free and made a mad dash for the exit only to come up against the chest of the raven-haired man once more. He stood with his back towards the door and lifted his eyebrows, unimpressed by her attempts to escape.

“Well, look at that,” the man in the cowboy hat jeered, “I think she likes you, Levi.”

Raucous laughter erupted in the room as Levi narrowed his eyes at the girl, irritated that she was causing this uproar and dragging him into this.

“Is this really necessary, Kenny?” he complained, turning narrowed eyes onto his boss.

“Oi. Go on, then. Show her a good time.” A shiver passed through her as she turned her eyes up to the raven-haired man who was pointedly ignoring her.

“It’s not her fault she has a piece of shit for a brother, and unlike you sleazy bastards, I don’t have a thing for brats,” his arguments fell on deaf ears, but his eyes dropped to the girl in front of him in surprise, when he saw that she had taken hold of the hem of his shirt between her thumb and forefinger, her head lowered, expression unreadable. Her action was invisible to the men behind her, but confused Levi, even as Kenny barked further orders.

“Birds of a feather, Levi.” He jerked a thumb at a door behind them, “Mess her up. That’s an order.”

“Tch,” irked beyond expression, he grabbed hold of her wrist and dragged her down through the living area to the jeers and catcalls of the men, pushing open one of the closed doors and pulling her through before pressing the door shut behind them, muffling the vulgar statements of the men beyond.

He eyed her calculatingly, his grey eyes walled off from her as his gaze wandered over her form from head to toe, his sharp mind mulling over a definition to the words, “mess her up.”

The resounding click that met her ears informed her that the door had been locked, and she was stuck with this enigmatic, terrifying man. He approached her slowly, annoyance still lingering in his eyes as he muttered, “I told you to get lost.”

Her eyes darted from one corner of the dimly lit room to another, shoulders trembling. An armchair and a tattered sofa stood haphazardly in the room, a beat-up old table with scratch marks stood tossed to the side. Light from a single, boarded up window strained to get inside. Telltale signs of struggle were visible in every corner of the room.

“You brought this on yourself,” his voice was deceptively soft and the skin at the nape of her neck prickled in response.

“I –“ she faltered, “Do you really want to do this to me?”

He drew closer as she retreated, backing up until her legs came up against the worn-out table. Her fingers traced its edge as she leaned backwards, trying to put every possible inch of distance between them. “Not my call,” he answered easily, towering over her now. She sucked in a breath, summoning mindless protests, but his closed fist slammed into her abdomen before she could utter a word, causing her to double over in pain.

“I’ll make this quick,” he offered, no touch of emotion lacing his voice. An unfeeling hand took hold of her long tresses and he tossed her carelessly backwards, the clattering sound of her falling against the table and the wooden legs skidding against the stone floor loud enough for the gathering outside to hear. She struggled back to her feet, and the next blow landed on the side of her face, leaving a large bloody bruise but carefully avoiding her nose. Women were vain about their noses.

She staggered towards him, disoriented, confused as to which direction was the one required to escape and falling unintentionally, straight into his arms. Using his grip on her, he kicked upwards into her stomach with his knee, causing her to cough up bile and fall to her knees. From there, she was at his mercy and he aimed one kick after another at her, his expression impassive and unchanging. A last kick to the face flung her to the side where she lay on the stone floor exhausted and beaten.

“Tch,” rolling his shoulders, he approached the young woman lying prone on the floor. Every move of his was calculated. He knew well enough which injuries would heal in a matter of days and which would leave lasting damage. The assignment was clear enough - “mess her up”. As long as she left here in a state that would make the group outside think she had duly suffered, it did not matter how much actual pain she had been in, or what he had done to her. It was all about appearances, after all.

He crouched down and, sliding a hand into her long, thick tresses, pulled her up from the ground, he turned her face this way and that and, seeing the blood leaking from her nose and the bruises blooming to life on her face, he determined she was injured enough to be allowed to leave without further hindrance.

“On your feet,” he muttered, rising and pulling her up with him. She stumbled to her feet and clung to the table for balance. He noted with satisfaction that her arms and legs were also bruised and battered, bruises large enough to satisfy the audience outside, but shallow enough that they should heal in a few days’ time.

He lifted a hand and indicated towards the door with a nod and a jerk of his thumb. “Get out of here, brat. Before I change my mind.”

She coughed and spat out the blood that had collected in her mouth. Levi blinked, veiling his surprise. The naïve, innocent, feminine impression she had carried into this room with her disappeared as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and narrowed her eyes at him.

“What?” she ground out, “Is that it?”

He only returned her glare with a blank stare of his own, nonplussed.

“Is that all you’ve got?” she continued, looking up at him defiantly, “And when they said ‘mess her up’ here I was, thinking you were actually going to do something to me.” She scoffed, and gave him a disappointed look, as if he wasn’t quite up to scratch.

What the actual fuck?

“Oi,” a dangerous spark flared in his otherwise cold grey eyes as he grabbed her by the collar and pulled her up to face him, “Take a look around you before you start talking shit. Are you asking me to break your legs right now? That what you want?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” she taunted, “But is this what your boss meant when he said ‘mess her up’? It’s not, right?”

He glared at her, unable to believe his ears. She should have been cowering in gratitude that he was letting her go without touching her. She should have been scrambling for the exit.

“They wanted you to fuck me, right? Or was I the only one who understood it that way?” The sarcasm that laced her voice, so sweet and innocent when she had approached him outside, now low and almost sultry even in its indignant anger, confused him.

He released her as if burned. What was wrong with this woman?

“So, what happens if I tell them out there you couldn’t get it up?” She indicated towards the group outside with a jerk of her chin as she leaned back against the table. He narrowed his eyes at her. Of course, he knew precisely what would happen to her, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. Men get beaten, girls get defiled. Those are the rules of the game. The price for rubbing up against their group the wrong way. There was no such thing as mercy. Levi knew that better than anyone else. He had learned that the first time he had tried to allow a woman to escape unharmed. She had turned grateful eyes to him before trying to leave, only to be caught by one of his brothers and then passed around until she lost consciousness.

He had been made to watch. She had been made to thank him for his kindness, for sparing her – words that meant nothing as tears streamed down her face and the group stood in a circle around her. “It’s great that you’re so fucking nice, Levi,” someone had hissed into his ear. He couldn’t for the life of him now remember who had spoken. He had swallowed half a bottle of painkillers, but his body had recovered in no less than 48 hours, just to spite him.

He learned not to show any misplaced sympathy. He learned it was better to have a woman screaming and begging for mercy beneath him, than to have her be literally torn apart by the men outside. He learned how to tune out their cries. He learned how to have a heart that felt nothing. But it didn’t change the fact that he hated sex. He hated having to use it to break their wills. To punish them. He would much rather have just broken an arm or two. He hated the fact that he could not remember the last time he had had a willing woman beneath him.

With time, he had learned how to fake it. Learned where to leave bruises, where to tear clothes so that no one would stop and question them. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it. He was just fed up of it. Fed up of playing this ridiculous game. Fed up of using intimacy as a weapon. It wasn’t like he was into that kind of shit.

But this brat.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but she returned his gaze unabashed, shamelessly – demanding, almost.

“Are you asking to be raped right now?” he growled, stalking towards her. He was not going to let himself be intimidated by this slip of a thing.

“If that’s what you want to call it,” she shrugged.

“You tell them out there I didn’t touch you and you might not ever be able to have children. So, if you decide to open your mouth that’s on you,” his tone was devoid of intonation, but his narrowed eyes expressed his irritation with her.

“Are you gay?” she asked, blinking up at him inquisitively.

He only glared at her in return, he wasn’t about to play this game with her.

“Alright, sure they’ll have their way with me instead. But what about you? Does nothing happen to you if you don’t follow orders?” She seemed genuinely curious, and unbothered by the bruise swelling on her cheek or the blood seeping out of the wound above her right eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Would nothing happen to him? He had been loyal to the group since he was barely more than a child. If it got out, however, that he had taken to sparing women again, it spelled trouble for whoever else they sent his way after this damned frustrating brat. If she wanted him to fuck her up so badly, then she had it coming.

“What do you want, brat?” he seethed.

“I don’t want you to harbor any illusions of having done me a kindness when I leave here,” she answered, her voice dark and unforgiving. “If you’re going to mess me up, do it right and let me curse your name for the rest of my days. Wallow in the guilt. Don’t deceive yourself into thinking you’re some kind of good guy.”

The irritation vanished from his face, only to be replaced by a deadened apathy, he placed one hand on the table on either side of her, leaning forward, inadvertently forcing her to lean back as her chest brushed against his. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke, his voice as soft as it was dark, “The things I’ve done? Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She shuddered at the close proximity, at his warm breath against her ear, but those soft words were all that was gentle about him. She had asked for it, and he wasn’t kind to the point of being foolish. He could break a stupid woman as good as anyone. He pulled back, looking her coldly in the eye as he took hold of her collar and, without warning, tore her shirt open. She blinked, scarcely able to understand just what had happened as she stood there in the tattered remains of what was once her shirt.

She watched the buttons roll off into the corners of the room and was still wrapping her mind around this sudden change of behavior when his hand found purchase in her hair again and jerked her head mercilessly back, exposing the smooth column of her throat. His mouth instantly closed in on her pulse point, making quick work with his teeth, sucking on the sensitive skin there before biting down mercilessly. She gasped at the painful sensation that made one thing terribly clear, this encounter was not designed to provide her with any pleasure.

He tore off her cardigan, quickly followed by the torn shirt, leaving her in nothing but her skirt and the lacy black bra she wore. It did not occur to him that her choice of undergarments was alluring. He did not think to question whether that had been intentional on her part. Her eyes flew open when she felt cold metal between her breasts, before she could look down to see what it was, his knife had cut through the lacy fabric of her undergarments, inadvertently cutting her in the process. Knowing his skill, she could only assume that it had been intentional. Blood trickled down her chest over her abdomen, the stinging pain of the weeping wound rushed to her head. Exhilarating her.

She sucked in a cold breath of air, only moments before his hand closed around her throat, pinning her against the table. Her hands flew up in reflex, closing around his arm, gentle fingers pressing into the corded muscles of his forearm, she blinked up at him as her mouth opened helplessly for breath that would not come. She gaped at him, trying to word something with what little breath she had.

“What’s that?” he murmured calmly, his eyes cold and expressionless. “I can’t hear you.”

Her eyes fluttered shut as she arched her back, pressing her breasts up against his arm. Was this an involuntary reaction? Or... what the hell was she doing?

When he felt her convulsing from lack of oxygen, he released her with a grim expression. Something wasn’t right. Something about the balance of power between them. That unimpressed look in her eyes still irritated him. As if she had no sense of the actual danger she was in, even though she was in this state, literally bruised, battered, and bleeding. Now, coughing for breath. So, why did it feel like she was the one in control?

He let his knife fall to the floor as he unbuckled his belt, watching her eyes turn towards him, wide with something akin to terror - or was that anticipation? Had he become one of those lecherous swine who imagined they saw willingness in the eyes of a woman who wanted nothing more than to escape them? Had he really fallen to a point that he had begun to justify his actions?

He slid the belt out with one smooth action and, binding her wrists, turned her roughly on her stomach before he hung the buckle from a hook screwed into the wall. Her front was pressed roughly against the harsh surface of the wooden table and her arms were extended further than was comfortable, bound by the rough leather. From this angle, he could not see her face and that was certainly for the better.

“You asked for this, didn’t you, brat?” He placed one booted foot between her own black flats and pried her feet apart. His hands slipped under her skirt and found the curve of her bottom and kneaded roughly, his fingers greedy and bruising. The hair on the back of his neck rose in alarm when she moaned in response.

“Oi,” he responded, “What the hell?”

She bit her lip, not allowing another sound to escape her mouth, and he lifted a hand to flip up her skirt, tossing it carelessly over her back. She had, quite literally, asked for this. When he lifted a hand, the resounding slap echoed throughout the room. Her skin quickly flushed red, and knowing that he had not held back, would likely be bruised as well. She had asked him not to hold back. No illusions of mercy.

One resounding slap after another echoed throughout the room and could likely be heard in the common room as well. He wanted to punish her. For being so stupid. For coming here at all. For not just leaving when he had given her a chance to. By the tenth slap she could not take it anymore and a husky moan escaped her lips.

“Don’t tell me you’re enjoying this,” his voice was dripping in disbelieving sarcasm. “Is it just some kind of shitty coincidence that this kind of shit turns you on?” Indeed, there was no denying it now. Her moans were proof enough of that, not to mention the fact that her panties were positively soaking. Did this crazy bitch have some kind of abuse kink?

Hooking a finger into her waistband he pulled her lacy black underwear down to her knees. “Tch, look how wet you are.” It sounded like a complaint and her face burned in response. “You’d almost think you wanted this.” When his fingers stroked her slit, she bucked her hips in response, chasing his touch, instantly wanting more.

“Oi,” he blinked at her, “Calm the fuck down, will you?” With a flick of his wrist, he unhooked the belt from the wall and brought her to her knees with a single kick at the inside of her knee. He held on to the belt with one hand and angled her head backwards with a firm grip on her hair with the other. When she lifted her eyes to his, they were dark with lust and he swallowed, realizing the situation had curiously grown out of his control. He had never seen a bloodstained face like that looking up at him with such desire. Tugging on the belt, he brought her forward as he regarded her through apathetic grey eyes.

He unzipped his trousers and pulled out his engorged length to her wide-eyed surprise. “Well, go on then,” he muttered coldly, with a curious edge to his voice, “Since you’re so fucking eager.”

She wasted no time in closing her bound hands around his length and long-lashed eyes fluttered elegantly shut as she brought her lips to his tip. She began with a chaste kiss before dragging her tongue over his slit lapping up the precum gathering there. She closed her lips around him, using her tongue to heighten the friction as she took him in as deeply as her gag reflex allowed. She bobbed her head back and forth, wanting to drive him to the brink as he had done with her. He closed his eyes, despite himself, enjoying her mouth on him more than he thought he would allow himself to. He stifled a moan rumbling to life in his chest as her warm, wet mouth worked magic on his erect member.

Why not? She was his assignment. She was willing. She was undeniably attractive. If she truly wanted him to have his way with her, then why the fuck not? She would have only herself to blame at the end of all this. Gripping her hair more tightly, he thrust into her mouth, more deeply than she had been willing to take him at first, but helpless to resist him all the same as he fucked her face, his length thrusting into her throat and her muffled sounds indecipherable. Were they protest or pleasure? Damned if he knew.

At length, he released her. Having made up his mind to make the most out of this encounter, he was far from done with her. His eyes roamed over her nearly naked form now, as if seeing her for the first time. The full swell of her breasts, the dip of her thin waist, the curve of her hips. The short, pleated black skirt that pretended to cover her. Her almond eyes, darkened with lust and her long, silky hair. She was a sight to behold.

He tugged her to her feet and threw her onto her stomach on the table before thrusting without so much as a warning into her wet and aching cavern. She released a throaty moan, one that was undeniably of pleasure. He could not for the life of him explain why that sound made him feel more guilty than protests would have. All the same, he reached up to knead her breasts as he thrust in and out of her, quickening his pace, eager to reach his own release. His ears perked as her moans intensified, growing louder and more insistent.

“Oh, more... Just like that, don’t stop...”

Was she hearing herself?

“Harder, Levi... hurt me, please...”

This was far from the words she was supposed to be saying. She was supposed to be cursing his existence. Wishing him a slow and painful death.

“Oi,” he hissed, slamming into her with increased force, “Shut the fuck up, will you?”

Her answer was another desperate groan, and with a frustrated groan of his own, he reached up to fill her mouth with two fingers. It was the fastest and most effective way to gag her. His conscience could not take her pretending to enjoy this. But he was equally as ill-prepared for the way she began sucking off his fingers. He was nearing his climax but literally every thing she did was infuriating him.

In the span of one thrust, he pulled out of her, flipped her over and reentered her without missing a beat. But was that a mistake? Now that he could look into her lust-filled eyes with his own frenzied, grey irises, he was sure she was not pretending. She seemed to be genuinely enjoying this. No matter, she would have time enough to regret it when it was over. For now... for now, he just wanted to reach that climax that was fast approaching.

If she could just keep her mouth shut for two minutes, that was all he needed. “Oh, Levi...” she whined. Having a complete stranger call his name that way sent shivers down his spine. It was unnatural. He closed his fingers around her throat again. He just needed her to shut up. For just one goddamn minute. Her large, expressive eyes fluttered closed and her terrible sounds stilled as he squeezed her airways closed as he slammed into her, faster now, harder, chasing the sensation he knew was close.

She came first, first convulsing from oxygen deprivation, then trembling from the intensity of her orgasm, her back arching off the table as her walls clenched around him, providing him with the last push he needed to reach that height. He squeezed his eyes shut as the sensation tore through him, leaving him breathless. With a low growl, he pulled out of her to spill his seed literally anywhere else. The last thing he needed was to father a child with a nameless nobody. He hovered over her still. His hands resting on either side of her. Catching his breath, both their chests heaving as they came down from their mutual high.

What had they just done? Could that truly have been considered non-consensual? Well, perhaps that would be what she decided it was, given a day or two to think it over. They stayed that way for a minute, catching their breaths. A smirk crossed her face, unbeknownst to him as he pressed his eyes shut, calming his racing heart.

At length, he drew back, and she pulled herself up to a seated position. She held her hands up to him expectantly and he wordlessly unbound them, before looping his belt back into his trousers, watching her out of the corner of his eye as she scanned the room for her clothing, only to see her note with a distant smile, that most of it was unusable. Foregoing the torn shirt and slit bra, she reached for her cardigan, wrapping it tightly around herself, using the belt to wrap it tightly closed as a makeshift shirt. She ran a hand through her hair, brushing it away from her face and Levi could only stare at her with awe.

She had, at some point wiped the blood from her nose, her face was still undeniably battered. Her arms and legs were severely bruised and yet- and yet – why the fuck did she look so content?

“You didn’t kiss me,” she voiced, lifting her eyes to his. Was that a complaint?

After everything else he had done, a kiss was the least he could offer her, wasn’t it? He stepped forward, taking hold of the back of her head gently. Here was something he didn’t do often and when he did, he only ever did it the way he wanted.

So, that was what he did now, angling his head to claim her lips. Kissing her slowly, deeply, intently – as if he meant it. There was only one right way to kiss someone. When he drew back, she released a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her soul.

“Thanks, Levi Ackerman,” she breathed.

As he buckled his belt again, he lifted stormy grey eyes to her, taking in her dazed expression. “You should get that head of yours checked out,” he commented, “Something isn’t right with you.”

She giggled at that comment from her perch on the table, kicking her legs back and forth cheerfully as she waited for him to finish dressing.

“There’s nothing to be so fucking cheerful about,” he reprimanded, “Look at your face.”

“It hurts,” she agreed, but with a smile on her face that disturbed him. Shaking his head, he took hold of her elbow and led her out of the room. The men in the common area fell silent at her battered appearance.

One of them released a low whistle, “You’ve outdone yourself, eh, man?”

Levi froze in his tracks, pausing to deliver a deadly glare over his shoulder. “I’m not quite done yet, though. Should I just take your tongue out next?”

The man blinked up at him before quickly turning his gaze back to the card game in front of him. That Levi was not one to be trifled with was well known among them, with exception of their leader.

He led her to the exit and tore open the door, he hesitated only for a moment, regarding her for a second. She had been beautiful, before he had “messed her up”. She still was, if you asked him. But for the entire duration of her short stay in their hideout, every thing she had said and did had only served to confuse him. He did not even know what he should say to her, if anything at all. She nodded in parting and turned to leave, and he let her go.

He supposed he would think back to her, in dark, contemplative nights. Wondering if he should perhaps have done this differently. How it would have been if he had not had to hurt her. He watched her disappear into the darkness before shaking his head and closing the door behind her. Whether he had actually fulfilled his assignment was anyone’s guess.

He moved past the common room to a hallway behind it. He needed to see Kenny. To get some actual work done and take his mind off of the ridiculous encounter. He followed the sound of screaming and found their boss with relative ease. A brown-haired man tied to a chair was screaming profanities as one of their men carved intricate designs into his flesh with a knife.

Kenny sat nearby, his feet propped up on another chair as he dragged on a cigarette. Catching sight of Levi, he coughed, and rasped, “Back, are you? You sure took your sweet time.”

Levi said nothing to this, nodding at the man instead, clearly the young man from the girl’s photograph. “Still nothing?” he asked, turning grey eyes on to Kenny. “Not yet,” Kenny commented, but turned towards the screaming man.

“Hey, that reminds me. You won’t believe who was just here.”

The dragging of the knife stopped, and the man caught his breath before turning incredulous eyes towards them.

“What a coincidence that she would come all this way looking for you, eh?” Kenny barked a laugh, “But don’t worry, Levi took good care of her, didn’t you, Levi?”

Levi did not respond, letting his silence serve as his answer.

“The fuck are you on about?” the man hissed, breathing raggedly from the hours of unabating pain.

“Why, your sister, of course,” Kenny remarked, bringing his cigarette back to his lips. “She was here looking for you.”

The man blinked at them incredulously before releasing a weak laugh, “I don’t have a sister, you sick fuckers! You bastards raped an innocent girl!”

Levi felt the blood in his veins run cold as Kenny turned towards him with a raised brow.

His mind raced - the way she had approached him, clung to his shirt, insisted he not let her off easy, the way she had looked at him, the way she had left without so much as asking about her brother again, and most of all ... Thanks, Levi Ackerman.

Where had she learned his last name? No one had used it in the short time she had been there. Levi turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, down the hallway, back through the common room, tearing open the door before bursting back out onto the stone-laid roads beyond. No matter where he turned, she was nowhere to be found.

Turning back, he froze at what he saw, and realizing what it meant, a sickening feeling crept over him. He felt used, exposed, and somehow violated. He felt sick to his stomach. He had been sent to force himself on her but, recalling how forward she had been with him, how she had insisted he finish what he started, which of the two of them had truly been taken advantage of?

When Kenny came out after him, ducking under the archway, he turned to look at what had caught Levi’s eye. His boss and uncle released a low, amused chuckle.

“Looks like she had a thing for you.”

“Well, fuck.”

“You catch her name?”

“Of course not.”

He blinked at the wall, at the red graffiti emblazoned on it.

“Thanks for a good time, Levi Ackerman.” And beside that, a ridiculous red heart.

He should have known she was fucking crazy.

#levi smut #levixoc #levixreader #tw noncon #tw dubcon #snk #levi ackerman

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poesparakeet-fics · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Caleb Widogast, Caduceus Clay & Caleb Widogast, The Poly Nein - Relationship Characters: Caleb Widogast, Caduceus Clay Additional Tags: Tickling, ler!Cad, Lee!Caleb, Punishment, Injury, Injury Recovery, Caleb Widogast Needs a Hug, Caleb Widogast is a Mess, Teasing, Queerplatonic Relationships, Pinned, Wrestling, Forced Self Love, And for once I don’t mean that in the sexy way., Safewords Series: Part 3 of The Poly Nein Summary:

Caduceus shows Caleb the consequences of dodging a healing spell around people who love you.

This one’s SFW, so please enjoy it here or on AO3!

This is what happens.

They came home battered, beaten and pissed besides. The others hung around for Jester’s prayer of healing, but Caleb slipped away, too full of old wounds and grey memories to give up his new wounds quite yet. His head ached and his side pulsed painfully while he climbed the stairs. He was nearing his door when a great, heavy hand fell on his shoulder.

“Here,” a warm voice hummed from behind him, “lemme get that for you.”

“Oh Herr Clay, it’s–”

Caleb’s sentence was choked out by a sudden sucking feeling accompanied by a sharp sound in his chest as Caduceus’ spell took hold.

*POP*

Caleb froze, then swayed in his tracks. Perhaps the injury had been a little worse than he thought. He turned around to thank his friend, only to see thunder in the firbolg’s eyes and freeze. He had seen Caduceus upset, annoyed and disappointed, but he wasn’t sure he’d seen him furious before. Until now, that is.

“For real?” Cad’s voice was still it’s usual low, placid cadence. He closed his eyes and pinched the top of his nose.

“Wh-”

“That was a broken rib, Caleb.”

“I was just going to bed–”

“You didn’t take a lick of healing from Jester.” He paused while Caleb floundered under a wave of embarrassment, guilt and stubbornness. “Your rib would have been the first thing to heal, since it’s the most life threatening. Unless you had a dagger through your heart I didn’t know about.”

The lie that was ready on Caleb’s tongue died there.

“I… ah… I did not know it was broken.” He finished lamely.

“That is not…” Caduceus closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, “That’s not the point, you… dammit, OK. OK, We’re gonna deal with this.”

His hand closed around the back of Caleb’s coat, and the now-healthy wizard yipped as he was lifted effortlessly off his feet. As easy as it was to forget Caduceus’ quiet anger, it was easier to forget his rarely-used strength.

Caduceus pulled Caleb into his quarters.

“Caduceus, what–”

“It was one thing when you were still too broken to function or believe anyone could care for you. But that’s not what’s happening here, right? You know better than this now.”

Caleb felt a panicked little chill run up his spine as Caduceus carried him like a suitcase.

“Caduceus, just— wait, I didn’t know–”

“Of course you didn’t. That big, stabbing pain in the side of your body, next to all the vital organs? I can see why you weren’t concerned.” He set Caleb on the oversized bed, and used a stern look to him in place. “Take off your shirt, I want to check your other ribs.”

“Caduceus, your spell worked fine…”

The firbolg regarded him with mild astonishment. “You really gonna fight me on this?”

Caleb swallowed, and pulled his coat off, then his holsters and shirt. He sat politely and quietly on the edge of the bed, eyes downcast. Caduceus sat next to him, tugging at his arms to manipulate his torso and peer carefully at him. Eventually he let out a breath.

“It looks like the spell healed all of the physical damage.”

Caleb was just starting to relax with slumped shoulders when one large hand caught him across his chest from behind and pulled his torso across Caduceus’ lap. That gave him a chance to catch the wicked twinkle in his friend’s eye and start fighting, but it was too late at that point. He was pinned with both wrists held over his head by Caduceus’ left hand, his torso stretched over the width of the firbolg’s lap while a heavy right elbow held his hips in place.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Caleb squeaked, legs kicking feebly against the mattress.

“Making sure you remember what happens when you dodge heals from now on. I’m gonna check every one of your ribs, I’m gonna do it until it’s done, and you’re gonna take it because if you bamf away from me, I’m just gonna have to get other people involved.”

With that Cad started to gently trace Caleb’s short rib with a pinching finger and thumb, reaching across the wizard’s body so his arm could block Caleb’s attempts to curl up in a ball.

“Wait, I– Oh, noho!”

Caleb threw his head back to laugh, every squirm just sending him deeper into Caduceus’ embrace. He could feel the firbolg’s mass shaking against his side, chuckling at his reactions.

“One. That first little one looks OK. Is it supposed to be that small? I should really learn more about human anatomy, huh? Two…” Caduceus moved up one rib, and Caleb’s laughter pitched up despite himself, “Hmm, yeah, that looks good too. So, did you think of what could have happened, if you went to bed?””

“Whahat?” Caleb gasped, unable to grasp the question under the onslaught he was suffering.

Luckily Caduceus didn’t need him to. “It could have punctured your lung. -Whoops, there’s three.- It could have killed you in your sleep. Four.”

Caduceus was a good way up his ribcage now, and the precision attacks on every solitary bone under thin skin was escalating Caleb’s desperation pretty rapidly. Being stretched out over Cad’s lap made it feel like his breath was being chased out of his chest by long downy fingers.

“Please! I’m sohohory!” He squeaked, heels drumming against the bed.

“Someone would have found you, cold and dead in the morning. Five. You know, we might have been able to bring you back, but that scar? From finding you? That’s a lot harder to heal.”

Caleb felt a sharp roll of guilt across his stomach. Not that he could express it. “Ahahaha- I-I’m sorry, pleaheeheese!”

“Hm. Are you sorry you did it or are you sorry I caught you? Six.”

“Both!” Caleb squealed, perhaps a bit too honestly.

Caduceus chuckled at him again. “Well, at least I know you’re not hiding things from me anymore. Hmm… where’s seven?”

Caduceus fingers dug around curiously, pretending he couldn’t find the rib he was currently torturing. Caleb thrashed with tears springing into his eyes, but he made no progress in escaping at all. It was like being tormented by a fuzzy mountain.

Caduceus made a frustrated sound, stopping his torment for a second. Caleb sucked in a few deep breaths.

“You made me lose count,” Caduceus explained, voice full of patently false regret, “I’m gonna have to start over.”

“Nein!” Caleb yelped

“You’d better hope you have more than nine ribs.” Caduceus teased, laughing when Caleb let out a frustrated growl.

Caduceus’ fingers returned to his lowest short-rib and started counting them out again, quicker than before. This time Caleb was crying by 3, trying desperately to stay still and expel all his ticklish agony without making Caduceus start over again.

“OK, I found seven this time. Are you ready?”

Caleb sobbed and shook his head no, but Caduceus continued anyway, ignoring his squeal.

“Pleaheeheese! Please, I’m sohohorry!”

“Eight. I do believe you, now,” the firbolg answered, “but the only way you’re getting out of this is to use that special word. And since you’re too stubborn to use that thing when Jester tortures you for fun, I’m guessing you’re not gonna use it now, when you know you deserve it. Not for little old me.”

Little old Caduceus was currently tickling a powerful mage to tears without so much as a bother, but Caleb didn’t have the breath to point it out. The first time Caduceus had seen the Nein really tickle Caleb to pieces, he had broken it up. Jester had to have a patient talk about safewords to convince him it was OK. Now he was wielding it against Caleb, and if he could, the wizard definitely would have pouted about it.

As it was his face was forced into a bright smile that he tried to hide against one bicep, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes to roll past pink cheeks and red ears. His feet kicked helplessly at the air when Cad’s fingers moved again.

“There’s nine. So I think you’re just gonna have to take this, but if you’re cooperative and not stubborn, we’ll get through it quicker, OK?”

Caleb wanted to wail that he didn’t know what that meant but settled for just wailing instead. Caduceus was quickly getting to the ticklish spots that his holsters usually protected.

“Ten. So, are you gonna do it again?”

Caleb felt a flash of panicked confusion before he remembered what had gotten him into this mess.

“Nein!” he wheezed between fits.

“Good to hear. Eleven. Why aren’t you gonna do it again?”

“Bitte! Pleheeheese I can’t” Caleb choked, breathless.

“Oh, yeah you can. Come on, why aren’t you gonna do it again?”

He switched to one finger and a lighter touch, leaving Caleb in hysterical waves of giggles while also giving him a chance to catch his breath a little.

“Because- it would- ahaha- upset theheehee others!”

“Hm. Well, I’ll take that for now. Twelve! Now, what’s gonna happen if you do it again?”

Caduceus had to realize that the shrieking wizard had no way to answer, so he answered for him.

“This is what happens, right? We have a zero tolerance policy from now on.”

Caleb sobbed and nodded in understanding, his whole body bending to try and save the one patch of ticklish skin without any success. Then Caduceus’ hand started to wriggle and prod into his armpit and his whole body jerked like he was electrified.

“AAHahahaha nahahahaha!” Caleb couldn’t get enough of a break to beg for mercy.

“Hmm. Looks like that’s it. Is twelve the right number?”

“Yahahahas!”

“Oh, well, good to know then.”

Caduceus released him, letting the teary-eyed wizard’s arms snap down to belatedly shield his ribcage, his face disappearing into his hands while his body shuddered with laughter.

“Shh,” he soothed as though he wasn’t the perpetrator of Caleb’s state, “ just breath.”

Caleb tried, rolling onto his side to breath into Caduceus’ linen shirt. Hysterical, pitchy laughter jerked out of him when the other man tried to pat his back and immediately stopped with a soft apology.

“You… just… please never do that again.”

“I think that’s up to you, based on the arrangement we just agreed to…”

“-under torture!-”

“… and I mean, it’s gonna happen again. At least one more time tonight.”

There was a moment of heavy, terrified silence.

“…What?” Caleb felt like a cup of ice water had been poured down his back. His eyes went perfectly round.

“I said I was gonna check all your ribs. I feel like if I don’t follow though I’ll set a bad precedent.”

Caleb immediately tried to scramble away from Caduceus, and he would have hit the floor if the firbolg hadn’t reached out to grab him around his middle and hoist the smaller man into his lap.

“Mist! Nein! You can’t, please!”

Caduceus started the patient, gentle work of getting a grip on the wriggling wizard in his lap. He kept his right arm looped around Caleb’s middle, his other arm working to try and grab a flailing wrist. When he wasn’t quite quick enough he made a frustrated sound in Caleb’s ear, right before planting a raspberry between the smaller man’s shoulder blades.

“Hold still!”

Caleb let out a wordless peal of squealing laughter under the onslaught of soft lips, velveteen nose and wooly beard. It bolted down his spine and made his whole upper body collapse.

One big, soft palm gripped his now-limp wrist and heaved it upward, exposing his currently un-tormented right side. Caduceus looped his right arm under Caleb’s captured one, bracing his palm on the back of the smaller man’s head. Caleb’s left arm was pinned against his chest as Caduceus’ other arm wrapped around him to keep him in his seat and hover downy fingers over Caleb’s exposed ribcage.

“Pleaheeheese you’ll kill meeeheehee!” Caleb whimpered through anticipatory laughter, eyes glued on Caduceus’ hovering hand.

“Sssh.” The firbolg soothed into the back of Caleb’s head. “I’m not gonna kill you. We’re just gonna take it really easy, OK?”

His left hand started to rub Caleb’s side in smooth circles, each one climbing higher than that last

“Nooohoohoho!” Caleb whined, eyes squeezing shut as the firbolg’s fingers found his short rib.

“One.”

“Bitte!” Caleb squealed through gritted teeth.

“I want you to repeat after me, OK?”

Caleb tried to turn and look at him, teary eyes astonished, as though Caduceus had asked him to move the moon.

“I -yeeheehee!- I can’t! Please!

“You can, I promise. We’re gonna start off really easy. How about “I deserve to live.”

“Whahahahaat? I can’t–”

“Two.”

“-Aaah! Nohoho! OK, ok, please!”

Caduceus only gave him a moment to take a breath before it spilled out “Ideservetolive!”

“Very good!” The hand holding Caleb in a half-nelson patted his head. “How about ‘I don’t deserve pain.’ for number three?”

“Ahahaa! Says the one torturing meheeheehe!”

“Ha! Are your ribs hurting? It’s a good thing I’m checking on them. Four.”

“Aaahaaa! I don’t deserve pain!”

“See, you’re doing great,” Caduceus praised, “we’ll be done in no time. I know this one’s going to be a little tough for you, are you ready? Five. I want you to say ‘I’m loved and I deserve that love.’”

For the first time that night, Caduceus’ request made Caleb’s jaw lock up.

“Nein— no, aah! I can’t!” He managed to whine through his teeth and the increasingly hysterical laughter that Caduceus was pulling out from deep in his chest.

“You have my permission not to believe all of these for now, but I want you to say every one. Six.” “AhahaHA! Nein, habt Mitleid! Mehehercy!”

Caduceus snorted. “On your ribs or on your low self-esteem? Actually, don’t waste your breath. I already know the answer. Seven.”

“Aaaaii! Please! I c- I can’t remember whahahat I’m supposed to sahahay!” Caleb sobbed, body starting to go limp with exhaustion in Caduceus’ arms.

The firbolg laughed, letting up for a moment to use his sleeve to wipe the tears off his captive’s cheeks.

“I’m loved…”

“I’m… loved…” Caleb panted, his unpinned hand holding on to Caduceus’ currently-stilled tickling hand for dear life, as if it might save him.

“And I deserve that love.

Even breathless and exhausted, Caleb winced like the sentence left a bad taste in his mouth. “I… deserve that… love.”

“Hey, good job. That was one of the hard ones.”

The sound that started to flow out of Caleb was somewhere between a panicked giggle and an exhausted sob. One of the hard ones.

“For this one I’m gonna need the whole phrase. ‘My name is Caleb Widogast, and I am a good man’ Are you ready?”

“No! Please have mercy!”

“Aw, sorry buddy. Not this time. Eight…”

“NIEN, can’t– s'too m-muhuch pleaheese–”

“Nine indeed!” Caduceus chuckled, fingers jolting upward to take advantage of the joke. “It’s not too much. I know you can do it.”

“I c-c- NO PLEASE I can’t while you– CAN’T! BITTE!"

Caduceus chuckled, fingers jumping up to tweak the next rib and yank a short little scream out of Caleb before he stopped moving his fingers and froze, still and menacing.

"That’s ten. Come on. I can’t make you believe it but I’m gonna make you say it.”

Caleb’s weight was leaning into Caduceus’ chest, his head leaning back against one solid shoulder with his eyes closed as he gulped in breaths.

“I'm… a good man.”

“And what’s your name?”

“Caleb Widogast… is a good man.”

“Aw, very good.” Caduceus praised, squeezing Caleb in a small hug. “Ready? Almost finished. Eleven.”

Caleb didn’t even plead this time, he just started to laugh again with his head still thrown back against Caduceus’ shoulder.

“Last one, I promise. I want you to say "I am going to take care of myself for the people who love me, or Caduceus is going to tickle me until I scream. Every time.”

“I CA- I CA- nohohoho! Too lohohong!”

“Twelve.”

Caleb’s back arched and his feet kicked while he shrieked, unable to get even the first part of the sentence out. Caduceus did have a little mercy, then, pausing to let Caleb suck in the breath he needed.

“I'mgoingtotakecare *pant* of myself *hic* forthepeople *hic* who love me or… *hic* this is what happens…”

“Every time.” Caduceus reminded him, tapping his fingers on Caleb’s top rib.

“Every time! Every time! Pleaheeheese!”

Finally, Caduceus let him go, angling himself so the wizard could flop over onto his bedspread. Caleb curled up on his side, face in his hands as the residual laughter started to slowly die down and the shuddering feeling in his bones faded.

“Do you wanna stay here tonight? Least I could do.”

Caleb unfurled with a heavy sigh. “Ja, please."

"Hey Caleb? What time is it?”

“Ah… *hic* probably between 10 and midnight, why?”

“Oh. No reason."

Caleb could see the firbolg’s smug little smile, but was entirely too tired to do anything about it.

Caduceus started to shrug off his outer layers and lowered the lamp while Caleb tucked himself in up against the wall.

"So just to be clear, this is what happens when you dodge a healing spell–”

“Yes! Yes *hic* you’ve made your point!”

“-But it’s going to get worse every time.”

Caleb just whimpered into the pillow.

“I mean,” Cad continued, “getting Jester involved is obviously the last resort. She is the ultimate escalation. And Molly’s not far behind. Maybe Beau first?”

“Nien!” Caleb jerked himself up in the bed in a panic. “Not Beau! She’s right under Molly. Not Beau.”

Caduceus chuckled, sliding himself into the big warm bed next to Caleb.

“So that leaves Yasha, Fjord and Veth. Wanna fill out the ranking?”

Caleb chuckled a little along with him, then whined.

“Nooo. I feel like I’m being made to dig my own grave.”

“If it makes you feel better, you’ve definitely already done that. I saw that reaction to the raspberry. That’s how I’m counting next time.”

Caleb groaned in the back of his throat. The threats felt like they were melting him.

“Mein gotten, to think I used to believe you were the nice one.”

Caduceus chuckled again. He slung one arm over the Caleb ball next to him and pulled the wizard in for a cuddle, rubbing his back soothingly when the other man tensed up.

“Hey, I’m done. For now. Seriously though, who’s most dangerous after Beau.”

Caleb gave a defeated sigh as he relaxed into Caduceus’ soft, solid embrace. The softly lit room took on a golden haze. Caduceus smelled like spices, cardamom and rosemary. Caleb hid his face in one wolly shoulder, his breathing evening out.

“Fjord because he teases, then Yasha because she bites.”

“Heh. So Veth’s the first level of escalation? Good to know. She seems more likely to keep this between us anyway… Caleb?"

The only answer was a snore.

#critickle role #tickle fic #caleb widogast #caduceus clay #tk fic

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prurientpuddlejumper · 3 years

Text

Don’t Look! [Part 3]

<- Part 2 | Part 4 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader

Once again, transformation AU by @we-are-all-just-a-bit-crazy, I’m just making a fic with it! (Going to try to wrap this series tomorrow; we’ll see if I can keep up the pace). Mutual pining + Chilton having trust issues.

2,160 words

The door opened a crack, and Dr. Chilton’s eyes appeared, searching up and down the hallway. Your pulse quickened. Finally, you were going to get answers—some logical explanation for what you’d seen last night. At least you could show him support this time instead of leaving him trembling in the dark.

He seemed to be human again. You found yourself checking and rechecking the texture of his skin for lingering signs of spikes and swirling darkness. A chill ran down your spine at his proximity, like it did when you saw a spider. You wished it wouldn’t. You didn’t want to be afraid of spiders. You didn’t want to be afraid of him.

Finding the coast clear, Chilton opened the door another few inches and stepped out wearing your grey hoodie and sweatpants. His hair was a mess, the hood pulled down to hide it.

“I cannot be seen this way. If you need me, I shall be at home. You have my personal number. Please call Nightengale Restorations and have them fix the office. Tell them I will pay a fifteen percent bonus for having it done this week,” he prattled in his professional tone as if this were just another workplace matter. He walked away, a slight hitch to his swift gait, but turned after three steps and met your eyes. “Thank you,” he said.

***

There was no confrontation after that. Dr. Chilton resumed work the next day, and things simply went back to normal. That is to say: awkward silences, reading novels into every word, and the simmering tension of pretending everything was normal when, in fact, nothing had been resolved.

Questions burned in your eyes, but fear restrained your tongue. The answers would only make you more afraid, and so Chilton did not volunteer them.

You didn’t run away, but you didn’t ask, either. Chilton was satisfied that you were just as in denial as he was.

The daily routine went on exactly as it used to: you would arrive at 7:30 am, knock at his office door, hand him a coffee, and take the file of paperwork he wanted done that day. Only there was hesitation in your knock, and you waited for him to say, “Enter,” instead of sauntering in like you owned the place. He had you put the coffee down on his desk so you would not risk brushing his fingertips as you sometimes did. When you took the file, you stared at him like he might bite.

“That will be all,” he said, dismissing you before your stoic mask faltered and you showed your true disgust.

***

Chilton’s skin crawled beneath his suit from his arms to his feet, and his scar throbbed for the first time in weeks. Having Abel Gideon back under his care was disconcerting, but a necessary part of Will Graham’s therapy—or rather, another clue in the case Graham was building against Hannibal Lecter.

He was skeptical at first. Graham was a lunatic—a sociopathic manipulator. Delusional. Yet, even a sociopath could not fabricate such elaborate lies with that much sodium amytal running through his veins.

The nightmares would be worth it when he was the man famous for bringing down the Chesapeake Ripper.

“Hey.”

Chilton looked up, eyes rimmed with red from hours of staring at a computer screen, working late yet again. You held up a bag of takeout, a weak smile on your lips.

“Need a break?” you offered, moving to sit across from him at his desk. Everything in the office was tidied up—you had cleaned most of it yourself the day Chilton went home in your sweatpants. The damage wasn’t as bad as it looked. Most of the furniture was simply overturned, not broken. Only the antique in-wall shelving waited for professional repair.

“No. Thank you,” he said, waving away the food. His lips thinned wanly. “You may help yourself if you like.”

He was equally surprised and suspicious when you stayed, unpacking the container of vegetarian pesto tortellini. He watched hungrily as you lanced one with a plastic fork and brought it to your lips. His stomach growled.

“Are you alright?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, straightening defensively in his seat.

“With Gideon here. That must be difficult.”

“I manage.”

You chewed another pasta in silence. Finally, he couldn’t help it and grabbed the second fork, stealing a tortellini off your platter. It was rich and flavorful—a bit heavy on the salt, but obviously from a fine restaurant. He held the bite in his mouth. No strange aftertastes. He did not feel woozy after swallowing. There was always a chance you were willing to drug yourself to get to him if you had an accomplice waiting to spirit him away to some secret facility.

“All right,” he snapped, chair shooting back toward the wall as he stood. “What are you after?”

You gave a startled “Mmph?” around a mouthful of pesto.

“What is the catch? A price for your silence? Why are you here, bribing me with dinner?”

“I… I’m not—what? I was worried about you.”

“Unlikely, considering the circumstances. Tell me what you want.” His eyes locked onto you, cold and piercing.

“Fine!” you broke. “I want you to forgive me!”

“For what?” he sneered, half believing your words were a veiled threat.

“I’m sorry, OK? Please—what can I do to make up for it? I tried giving you space, but now you look at me like I’m going to kick you, or”—your eyes widened at the plate of food he only touched after you ate some—“poison you! I swear I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” he asked in an entirely softer tone. He sat back down, hunching forward across the desk to search your face.

Your head hung low, and you murmured quietly, “I know I didn’t handle it well. I should have left when you asked. Now I understand… you didn’t want anybody to see that. I invaded your privacy. And then I freaked out!” Your voice broke. “And I’ve been trying to… to make up for it. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but—dammit, I’m pushing you again! Sorry.”

The urge to hug you overwhelmed him. If there wasn’t a deliberately massive table in between you—meant to keep others at a distance—he would have hugged you.

“Are you not afraid?” For once, the broadness of his desk seemed obtrusive.

“I could never be afraid of you.”

Your arm crossed the divide, reaching for his hand. It touched, warm and easy, and gave a sympathetic squeeze that set his blood racing. Then it retracted, and his skin ached for the lost contact.

“I just got scared because I didn’t understand what was happening. I still don’t. Maybe I am still afraid, a little. But not because—! Please, just… tell me what that was. What happened to you?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. Eyes narrowing, he answered cagily, “First, what do you think you saw? Light can play tricks on the eye, especially after long hours in a morbid environment, possible exposure to hypnotic drugs… Let us be sure we are on the same page.”

“Are you seriously going to gaslight me now that we’re finally talking? I’m not an idiot. You still owe me those pants back!”

While he floundered for words, your eyes squeezed shut, and a hissing laugh burst from your nose. A red flush crept up his neck, under his shirt collar. It was inappropriate to laugh in this situation, but perhaps that was why it was so contagious—it had been too long since he’d seen you laugh, and even longer since he’d done so himself.

“Those cheap, scratchy, torture devices? Consider it a favor that I tossed them,” he quipped. (Forget the fact that he had been sleeping with his face buried in them for the past week and simply did not wish to return them before wringing them for every drop of your scent.)

“And yet you wore them, which means I saved your ass. Checkmate, doctor.”

“Please. It is barely a Vienna Gambit.”

Laughter felt foreign in his throat. It was soft, and only lasted a brief second, but it was cleansing. You smiled at him, rolling your eyes, and his soul lifted.

“Very well,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Ask your questions.”

Your eyes darted to the windows. Another late night. Stars appeared (the handful not blotted out by Baltimore’s light pollution). You chewed your bottom lip.

“Are you going to transform again?”

“Only on the night of the new moon, when twilight gives way to the black of night. No need to worry.”

“Just once a month, then? Werewolf rules?”

He shot an offended glare, though you weren’t wrong. “Sometimes two, near the aphelion. And during an eclipse. It… hates sunlight. Even the reflection of the sun. It wants to be in darkness.” The thought disturbed him—the way the beast called him to the shadows. He always fought it to stay indoors, locking himself away from any nocturnal roving. It frightened him what might happen if he gave in. The coppery taste of blood haunted his dreams.

“Then… would you transform if you went spelunking? You know, in a cave? Or a submarine?”

“I have not tried. A darkened room is not enough. I would not tempt it.”

You swallowed and thought. Your lips twitched, building to the important question: “Is it still you in there?”

“Yes. More impulsive—I would never have smashed the decor—but I am still there.” It brings my true self to the surface, he thought, but withheld this. A slimy, dangerous, unlovable wretch. He looked at you, sitting across from him in front of a container of food you brought to share, and wondered what you were doing there after seeing it. How could you bear to be near him?

“But you’re not going to… eat me or something?” You were embarrassed to ask, and he gave you a fittingly scathing glare.

“No. I would not eat you.” He stabbed a tortellini and popped it in his mouth.

“Then I want to see it.”

He choked.

“I want to get a better look. To wrap my head around it. Besides, it seemed painful—next time I could bring you a hot towel, or… a cold pack, or… I don’t know, some tea? An ibuprofen?”

“There is no next time. You were never supposed to see that in the first place.”

“Please? If it’s going to happen again in two weeks, I want to be there. Prepared this time.”

“This is not a zoo. I am not some freak show to be gawked at! What happened to you being sorry?”

“I just want to get to know you,” you answered, and your voice sounded so small his heart reeled. You snapped your head up, “I mean—I want to be there for you. You shouldn’t be alone.”

He scoffed, defensive again. “Why? Because I might do something dangerous? I am more than capable of controlling myself.”

“Because you deserve to be comforted when you’re in pain.”

Your words struck him like a nuclear bomb of basic human decency. Deserved? Comfort?

“Does anyone else know? Does anyone… take care of you when you change?”

Only his family knew, and they certainly did not take care of him. Bringing him that bag of clothing in the morning was the first time anyone had done something thoughtful for him—helped him with his condition. Even if you had run away at first, you wanted to be supportive. To know his dark side.

Why?

Was it possible? Did you feel the same way about him as he did about you? His hand still felt warm from where you had briefly touched it.

He had to admit, it was nice having someone be there for him. Even a small gesture like old, loose-fitting sweatpants in a bag made a world of difference. Or dinner at his desk. He imagined you pressing a steamed towel to his forehead, and he did not hate the idea—doting on him like a spa therapist, taking the edge off the pain as his hair fell out and skin split open. Or watching him become hideous. Vomiting at the sight of him. Losing all interest you might have had. Realizing it was a mistake to be there.

“Thank you for dinner,” he announced in curt, clipped syllables. “That will be all.”

“Frederick…” Your voice was low, personal. Pleading. He did not like how personal it was. How you were giving him everything he wanted, like you were baiting a trap.

“Fascinating as this must be for you, I still have work to do. Your shift ended an hour ago. Go home.”

“OK. Right. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You didn’t see him trembling as you left, clutching his hand over his fluttering heart.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

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#Frederick Chilton x reader #Frederick Chilton #Hannibal AU #my writing

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