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nii-chans-rabiddogs · 11 months

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Kennels

TWs: Dehumanization, muzzles, collars, restraints. Sorry it took so long, but have fun <3

@cupcakes-and-pain @maracujatangerine

It’s been a bit since I was left here, and I spent the first long while just trying not to cry. I’m scared and insulted and really wanna leave, but I dunno how to undo the latch, and I can’t try right now anyways. A buncha people keep walking through the door to the hall, but none of them say anything or even glance over when they pass by. They’d put me right back in if I got out, which is rude. They all have the same type of outfit though, which actually looks okay-ish. There are so many pockets, and they all have earpieces and some of them have special gloves, but those ones are also carrying some stuff in boxes. Whatever it was, there’s a lot of it, cuz they keep bringing in more and more, while another couple of people watch and type stuff on tablets, before talking into their earpieces. They said something about shipments and gear, but I can’t hear much of it.

Another person walks by, and she’s wearing a really cool purple cape. One of the carrier people called her Royal, which was a cool name, but I’m not sure how you get Royal from the color purple. Actually, her entire costume was purple, but the main part of it looked black at first cuz of how dark it was. Her boots are dark purple, but not as dark as the body part. Her gloves are really bright though, and they shimmer like they’re almost reflective. Royal looked straight forward as she walked through the kennels, talking to one of the tablet guys about finding a new dealer for PowerSurge gear. Apparently, the old one went to meet his husband, but I don’t know why they haveta get a new dealer if he’s just visiting his husband. Maybe they just got married and went on their honeymoon? Wait, why do so many people try to put honey on the moon? And only after they get married? There’s no reason, and I don’t think normal people can afford a trip to the moon, that sounds really super expensive. Maybe- oh,what?

A group of carriers just called Seren out. She leans out to them from the backroom, barely glancing at them before nodding and grabbing her keychain from somewhere. Royal steps back to let her through, and she walks out to the kennel on my right, unlatching it and stepping back while the carriers grab the animal from under the little dog house thingie it was in. It looked like a mix of a very tiny tiger and lion, but wrong, like someone had stitched together two different stuffed animals badly. The carriers pick it up, placing it in a large cage and padlocking it shut. They slap a sticker on it, before a tablet guy types something and nods. The carriers lift up the kennel and bring it back out. It was all really quiet, barely anyone saying anything, and Seren looked bored.

“We’re locating a new dealer, so expect a minor delay in mass shipments. Customs aren’t affected. You’ll be notified when a new dealer has been selected and approved.” Royal said, voice sounding as emotionless as a rock. She stared at Seren the entire time, making eye contact until Seren nodded. How can someone make eye contact that long, doesn’t it hurt? Royal snapped her fingers and all the carriers and tablet guys that are left started grabbing their stuff and leaving. No one said anything else, and I really wish I could ask questions, or at least mess with something. It feels like my blood is electrified, but I can’t move or talk or do anything and it's the worst. I shook my arms a little bit, but it didn’t help and just irritated my wrists. I really wish I was with detective or Skyrise or Monsoon right now, they wouldn’t do anything to me or make me sit still. They’d let me run and wiggle and shake my hands around as much as I wanted, and they yelled at the one mean guy who told me I needed to have quiet hands, but I dunno what he meant but that. Monsoon got really angry when I mentioned it, so maybe it was an insult? But why? And how would you quiet your hands, they already don’t make much noise unless you’re slamming them on stuff or clapping, and I wasn’t. It was very confusing, so I just walked away from him.

Oh yeah, I remembered a bit of before I woke up, when everything was spinny. Doctor Everly said it was a quiet hospital, but he lied to me which is rude and mean and he should be the one wearing this stupid muzzle if he’s gonna lie like that. But I don’t know what those rooms were, and I don’t ever wanna go back in them, cuz they were super cold and scary. I shivered, and tucked my arms closer to my body again, wishing the supercuffs were just normal handcuffs. If they were I’d be able to make the lights go out with a real big shock. It wouldn’t help I don’t think, but it would be fun to watch people scramble around in the dark. I also woulda shocked the Doctor and Seren, too, cuz they’re mean and scary and I don’t like them at all.

“Alright pup, here’s the deal. Hunter is determined to keep you no matter what happens in your little interrogation, so we are goin’ to try out some gear for the few hours you have until he gets done with business. Behave yourself and you might get some treats, puppy.” Seren called out suddenly, walking out with a lead rope meant for strays.

She unlatched the kennel door, and I shrunk back again. I glared at her, but it didn’t do anything except make her chuckle. I tried to stay as far away as I could, but she shot her hand out to grab my ankle and yank me towards her. I panicked and whined as my head hit the floor, while she looped the lead over my head and tugged until it was snug against my neck. I tried to wriggle and push her away, but she just grabbed my hands and yanked me into the air like I was a piece of paper. I don’t like this, and now my head hurts and she’s scary and she’s gonna hurt me and-

“Aw, puppy, no need to look so scared. We’re just trying out some training gear, okay? No need for the teary eyes or breath holdin’, pup. This is happening no matter what, and it would be easier if you just listened to me.”

I immediately shook my head, cuz Doctor lied and she might be lying too and I don’t wanna go with her cuz she’ll hurt me or yell at me or- Ack! I choked as Seren suddenly yanked the lead forward, and stumbled forward a couple of steps. I looked at her with wide eyes, shaking a little bit, and she raised her eyebrow. She pulled on the lead so I took another step cuz I didn’t wanna choke again cuz that was really scary and I’d end up back in the warehouse with Detective yelling at me and, and he’d be really mad and- no, don’t think about that, just- Just follow Seren, and then there’s no choking or yanking and you won't go back, right?

I whined and shook my head, following behind Seren as she slowly took us to the backroom. There’s a lot of weird vests, and all sorts of collars and leashes and muzzles on hooks on one wall. The wall on the right had some gray cabinets, and underneath them there’s a table with some remotes and bags of snacks and treats. Set in the floor are some loops, but they’re cut weird and kinda look like a heavy metal carabiner. Seren hooked me to the one closest to the hooks on the walls, and I had to sit down so I wouldn’t choke. She grabbed a collar that was all metal and looked really heavy, that had a loop in the front, and I ducked my head down a little cuz it looked scary. She pressed something and it beeped once, then lit up two lines on the inside of the collar. Seren nodded, grabbing a remote and messing with the two until they both beeped a couple of times, then pocketing the remote and turning back to me. I shook my head again, trying to shrink into myself but she just sighed and stopped right in front of me. I stayed curled as small as I could, but I couldn’t stop shaking. She didn’t do anything for a couple of seconds, and sighed before saying:

“You’re a real anxious pup, ain’t ya? If it makes you feel any better, Hunter said I’m not allowed to hurt you at all. Not even a papercut. I wouldn’t anyways, but now it’s enforced by an order. Now, he also wants you to be wearing all the… corrective gear, and this is one of them. I know the collar looks a little scary, but it’s just like those power-suppressing cuffs. That’s all it does, puppy. If you sit up for me, I’ll even swap out the muzzle for something a little nicer, yeah?”

I wanna shake my head again, but the muzzle is also really tight and makes my jaw ache a bit… But the collar is also really scary and it might hurt. Maybe, maybe she isn’t lying? She- if Hunter said she couldn’t hurt me then she’d be alotta trouble if she did, so she can’t, right? I huffed, before very very slowly sitting up. I stayed curled down, but only a little and I haven’t stopped shaking. She lifted my head up, and I flinched back but she just tightened her grip to keep me in place. I whimpered and tried to pull my head away a little, but she was already undoing the first weird collar, so I just froze. She pulled it off, and slid the heavy one around before adjusting it to rest a little bit above my shoulders. She pulled it tight, and finally let go of my head to walk around and click it closed. She fiddled with it for a second and there was another click, and she stepped back.

“See? That wasn’t so bad. Let’s get a harness and leash on you, then I’ll swap the muzzles and give you a treat, puppy. Give me your hands, I need to take off the cuffs for this part.” She commanded, walking back around and crouching in front of me. I hesitated, then reluctantly held my wrists out to her. She twisted them weirdly for a second, then they clicked and fell into her hand.

I stared at my wrists, trying to figure out how she unlocked them, cuz she didn't pull out a key or anything, just twisted it. I rubbed my wrists a little bit, and looked back up at her. She grabbed a weird vest, apparently a harness, and a leash that was bright yellow and said “NERVOUS” in big letters. I folded my arms into my stomach as she came back, trying not to curl into a ball again. She pulled the stray-lead towards herself, and loosened until she could pull it off and set it to the side. She grabbed the harness, and undid a bunch of buckles and a zipper on the harness, then made me lift my arms up a little bit. She placed it on my chest and slid four of the buckles over my shoulders, and the ones on the sides around to the back. Two of the four she buckled just under the heavy collar from the front, then moved to the back and zipped the harness closed. She tugged it up a little to clip to the other two buckles over my shoulders to hold the harness up. I heard three clicks as she closed the rest of the buckles on the back, and I moved my shoulders around as I got used to the almost too-tight harness. It was kinda like a vest, with fabric all around, but there was a strap over my chest with a D-ring, and it wasn’t that hot.

She took the leash and clipped it onto the ring on the front of the collar, which was already feeling too heavy, and slipped the handle end around her wrist. She hummed and tugged here and there on everything, before asking if anything hurt or rubbed anywhere. I slowly shook my head.

“That’s good, I don’t need to order too many customs. If anything gets too small, starts to hurt, or rubs wrong then tell me ASAP, understood? Good. Now, let’s swap those muzzles, and get you a little treat, yeah, puppy? You want a treat?” She teased as she reached behind and undid the muzzle.

It slipped off, and I immediately yawned, trying to stretch my jaw. She slipped the handle to the leash into the spot where the lead used to be, then stepped over to grab a muzzle that was all wires, with a bit of padding here and there. I rubbed my jaw, watching as she adjusted the straps. She grabbed a small bag of chocolates that I didn’t see before, and walked back over. I perked up and stared at the chocolates while trying to make my throat less dry, and she laughed.

“Aw, you like chocolate? I thought that was bad for puppies? You must be a very odd puppy if you can eat these.” She taunted, shaking the bag. I tried to respond but just ended up coughing.

She set the bag down, and waited for me to stop coughing before listing my head and putting the muzzle on. It settled on my face, the padding being the only thing between my face and the metal. It was a lot looser than the one before, and I could still talk without gaining bruises.

“Ca-an… Can I have some- some water?” I rasped, barely audible.

“Sorry, pup, but you have to wait. Only treats for now. You’ll get some when Hunter is ready to see you.” She responded, pulling open the bag of chocolates.

I frowned, and opened my mouth to say something else when she held a chocolate in the air and interrupted me.

“Open up, puppy! A treat just for you!” She jeered, waving the chocolate in front of me. I blushed in humiliation, but opened my mouth as she told me to, and she dropped it between the wires of the muzzle into my mouth.

“Good boy! You’re such a pretty puppy, so well behaved. Very good boy” She praised, and I ducked my head down. She was treating me like I was just a dumb little puppy and it was humiliating but I haven’t eaten since the day before Hunter grabbed me from the warehouse, and I was too hungry to refuse. She gave me a few more, before putting them away and setting them back on the table. She reached under the table and tugged out a box, pulling out a bunch of weird gear I can’t identify.

“Alright, puppy, this is some of the training gear we’ll be trying out. We’ll be here for the next hour just about, so just work with me. We have three more boxes after this one, so let’s get this down as quickly as possible.” She explained, and I sighed and curled back into a ball. This is going to be an absolutely embarrassing hour, I just know it.

#tw dehumanization #tw muzzle #tw collar #tw restraints #whump writing #whump #Ghost #Seren #Royal #royal probably wont show up again ngl #Ghostie boy is always anxious or excited very little inbetween #Seren is being incredibly nice tho cuz her main job is training particularly useful heroes into being guard dogs for hunter #or just manual labor down in the cells underneath the medbay #But ghostie doesnt know that #He'll know about soon enough im sure <3 #also if you have any ideas for the interrogation feel free to share bc ive never been in an interrogation before #and also bc im always willing to hear ideas no matter what lmao #<3 #<33333

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robo-bud · 10 months

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people who treat miguel weirdly should Stop appearing in my recs.

#also that one person who drew him (a mixed mexican man) with a dog muzzle on. i need to shoot them.#racism tw #a robot posts

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melit0n · 27 days

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Sometimes I feel like I need to be put down like a bad dog. Today is one of those days.

#why do people gotta be so shitty man #I just want a bit of peace and quiet but oh no let's have a go at Mel #lets have a go at her because she's beyomd tired and she (quiet apprently) can't do anything right #and while we're at it lets make sure she knows she's something less than human and deserves to be treated like a muzzled dog #because that's what I am #I'm just #not very happy rn #tw vent

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shackld · 3 months

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big sigh

#why do you guys gotta mention muzzles it'll make the dog motif go insane #also.#looks at past chief #;sir this is my emotional support cringefail gacha game protagonist. (ooc)#suggestive tw

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yanderenightmare · 2 months

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TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omega verse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, double-pen, gangbang kinda, tag-team

fem reader

It’s been a month since your new owner brought you home, and despite expectations, you’ve yet to be eaten by the predators you share your den with. On the contrary, the six hybrids seem to have accepted you as their seventh pack member despite you being at the very bottom of the food chain.

You’ve come to trust that, despite the look of hunger in their eyes… food isn’t exactly what they have in mind.

The hyena seems to be the only one your age. But he’s also a bit of a bully. Always goading you with ticklish poking until you stomp your feet and whine at him to stop.

He never listens to you, though – he just cocks his head, finding it funny how you try giving him orders – only grinning as he pins you instead, chewing some on the lops of your ears while squeezing your cottontail – smirking and giggling at your pouty face getting all frustrated.

Your weak kicking is so cute, and so is how you try clawing at him despite having but blunt nails – he can’t help but laugh at the way it tickles him.

It’s so painstakingly clear you’re not made to fight back, and it’s so adorable how you don’t even realize you already surrendered the moment you rolled over on your back with your belly up.

It makes him go absolutely feral when you pull on his ears and mane, begging him to stop as he laves at your slit and clit, delving his long tongue deep within your walls until the tip prods your womb. It’s course against your skin and harsh on your insides and scratches your poor clit until it’s all swollen and throbbing for him – making you sob as his feral smile teases your chubby mound with a bite – only satisfied when you cum in his mouth.

But while the hyena enjoys play-fighting with you, the rest are more prone to fight each other…

The panther and leopard are good friends, whilst the fox and wolf seem to tolerate each other – and you don’t know whether it’s unfortunate or a blessing in disguise that both pairs only want you for themselves and often end up fighting over you.

You’d say the four are the most trigger-happy of the pack – always hissing and barking at each other. But everyone knows that cats and dogs don’t get along.

The canines are a little scarier, you think. They’re rougher with you.

The wolf especially. He’s older than you, a big heap of hulking muscles that bear down over you with the daunting superiority of a seasoned hunter.

He doesn’t take lightly to you talking back to him – acting as though he’s actually offended when you so much as open your mouth if it’s not to swallow his tongue. Even if all you ask is for him to go a little slower, he’ll just growl at you – threatening your neck with fangs while chewing your collar – and otherwise ignore your cry completely. Calling you his bitch while telling you to quit your whimpering even though he’s been breeding you sore for the past hour, ramming your poor cunt so hard your muscles have all given out and left you to lie on the floor with only his paws keeping your hips upright.

He's always extra rough when you reek of cat – as though it’s your fault. Huffing and puffing as he now has to spend so much effort scenting you again.

It’s a never-ending war between them all. You go from camp to camp, getting marked again and again like territory, only for your owner to clean you up at the end of the day.

But the wolf is the worst. One time he’d gone so far as to piss on you…

But he was later scolded by the owner – bonking his head with a rolled-up newspaper, telling him he had to learn to share or else he’d have to go sleep out in the doghouse. He’d also been told he had to stop breaking skin when biting you unless he wanted to be muzzled.

It only made him all the more grumpier. Growling in your ear that the one who ought to be muzzled is you and your snitch-mouth always crying wolf like some bitch who never learns her place – that next time you go talking to the owner, he’s going to eat you like the piece of meat you are.

You come to learn that he’s more bark than bite after a while.

When you get used to him and his stamina, you stop crying and start holding onto him instead. And it’s when you’re burying your face in his neck and begging for his seed that he softens up for you.

He stops biting and starts sucking instead – laying hickeys all over your neck and chest, blushing with closed eyes when suckling your tits like a pup. You learn he’s a sucker for being called good boy and will wag his tail when you sit on his face.

He’s also the one with the most owner-sickness of the pack, always clinging to you, growling when others get close, and never ever sharing when his turn.

He only begrudgingly allows the fox to eat his scraps afterward.

You can only mew as he mounts you next.

His tempo is always a bit of a shock – a bit juvenile, but who can blame him when he’s had to wait for so long? He’s a little younger than you – eager and desperate for it every single time.

Pounding you sharply – hard and fast with howls and heavy panting – even whimpering as you hold you tighter and tighter, squeezing you free of air as he savors the feel of your wet pussy clamping down around him.

He doesn’t growl too much when you whine. Instead, he laughs – elated and frenzied – eyes manic as he sticks his tongue as far down your throat as he can – drooling uncontrollably as he sinks his knot inside you and spills his worth inside your womb.

It’s a relief he doesn’t last as long as his bigger partner.

He’ll suck love-bites on the chubs of your cheeks as he unswells – lick all the sweat from your skin and come down by the sweet taste. Laying sloppy kisses all over your body and lapping over all bruises and soreness in gratitude – looking at you somewhat sheepishly with big puppy-dog eyes as though suddenly embarrassed that he’d been so feral.

The felines are less spastic.

But they also like to lick you – with sand-textured tongues scraping at your fur and skin until they’ve made sure you’re coated with their scent. They seem to enjoy grooming more than anything, always snuggling with you.

But they get flirty, too… you’ll know when they start kneading your softer parts – blinking at you slow and expectantly until you return the favor.

They’re the same age and have known each other all their life, practically brothers, and do everything together as though they were a pair of Siamese – including when they mate with you.

They’ll lay you down on one lean chest while the other is poised above you. Purring as they take turns with you – both so gently.

The panther always has a sly smile on his face when looking down at you – his claws retracted while he sticks his slender fingers inside your mouth to play with your tongue. He says it’s one of his favorite things about you – so soft and so silky, so different from theirs when you lick his skin.

It makes the leopard pout behind you, nuzzling you tight, his cheek to your cheek, asking the other if he doesn’t like it when he grooms him.

The panther only smiles down at both of you, promising that he likes both your tongues until he proceeds to swap between which one of you he kisses.

When the leopard kisses you, he also admits he likes your tongue – whispering all depraved things that come to mind – loves how smooth it feels in his mouth and on his lips and neck and nipples and cock and balls.

Eventually, the heat gets to their heads, and their pointy ears start to droop, looking at you with such dark glossy eyes, opium-blown with pleasure and lust for more – kissing each side of your face, asking whether you won’t allow them both inside you at the same time – their pretty pleas making your head go silly, panting while nodding your head for them, bucking your hips stuck between the two while begging for both of them.

You feel their slim tails coil around each of your thighs as they sink inside your drooling heat together – their breaths deep and shuddering while they feel your tightness squeeze around them.

They coo at you – telling you how perfect you look trapped between them like that – as their pretty little double-stuffed toy. And you’re too cock-drunk to do anything but agree.

After flooding you with cum, they go back to cuddling – sleeping – the both of them purring with lanky limbs all tangled on top of each other and you in the middle.

The bear is also a lazy fellow – a gentle giant. Something you’re grateful for – you don’t think you’d survive if he ever tried mounting and pounding you like the other boys.

He’s the eldest of the pack. Twice your age. You feel the seniority in his movements – all unhurried, savoring every second with a warm smile.

He’s satisfied with having you on his lap – cock-warmed by your tight bunny-cunt while you hand-feed him berries. You feel a little safer with him knowing you have the same appetite and that he isn’t thinking about eating you.

He hums, a rusty sound that comes from his gut – telling you he likes seeing you eat – that it’s cute how you take such small bites – and the way your nose scrunches and your cheeks fill.

Sometimes he’ll tell you to hop on his lap – his massive warm paws placed on your haunches with large black claws gently denting the plush flesh found there, encouraging you as you ease up and down the great length that bulges from your belly.

The size of it makes you pant.

You’re glad he’s happy having you at the end of the day – after you’ve been loosened up by the others. You fear he’d split you in two if otherwise.

The owner collects you before bedtime after everyone’s had their share – clips a leash onto your collar, and leads you to the bathroom – crawling on all four like an actual animal. You’ll often collapse halfway there, but he doesn’t mind scooping you up to carry you instead – always with a few patronizing words leaving him while mollycoddling you, almost speaking baby to you, telling you how proud he is of how domesticated you’ve become.

There’s always a bath waiting for you – a gift for being such a good little pet, he says.

It reminds you of when you were first brought here, as he washes you with his own hands – rubbing the filth of spit, cum, and sweat from your sore limbs, messaging your flesh into nice limber softness again.

He’s always mumbling about human matters under his breath – money, business, estate – ruffling your hair when you give him a blank stare. Apologizing while saying he won’t trouble your pretty head with such complicated topics.

All you have to worry about is being his stress-relief – something clueless and dumb and dependent on him. You realize that without him needing to say it. It’s communicated through all the other things he says anyway.

He’s always whispering in your ear before bed – sweet nothings about what a good bunny you are – how you’re the cutest, softest, sweetest little thing in the entire world – telling you how much he loves you and how happy he is that you’re finally settling in – how you’ve become the most precious little housebroken pet for him.

It feels different when he touches you. The other hybrids make you feel small, but there’s a familiarity with them – something about being hunted fairly and squarely, like out in the wild.

With the owner, you’re reminded you’re a pet eating out of his palm – something tame warming his bed at night with your leash tied to the bed frame.

He doesn’t fuck you with the same intent as the others do – there’s no rut behind his cold movements. It’s not mating or breeding. It’s something else you can’t put your finger on. Something human. Something alien to you.

Something in the way he has his hand fisting your leash as he sinks inside your heat – something in how he babies you, calls you cute when you shake and cum around his cock like you can’t control yourself.

It all makes you feel like some mindless animal.

Impulsive and primitive in comparison to him and his calculated thrusts and how he only cums inside you after you’ve all but begged him to breed you.

part 1

Owner: BNHA - Aizawa, AFO JJK - Nanami, Kenjaku HQ - Ukai

Hyena: BNHA - Shigaraki JJK - Mahito HQ - Tendou

Wolf: BNHA - Bakugou, Dabi JJK - Sukuna, Noaya HQ - Sakusa

Fox: BNHA - Kirishima, Denki, Deku, Amajiki JJK - Yuji, Yuuta, Choso HQ - Hinata, Nishinoya

Leopard & Panther: BNHA - Denki & Shinso, Hawks & Dabi JJK - Gojo & Geto HQ - Miya twins, Oikawa & Kageyama, Kuro & Kenma

Bear: BNHA - Enji, Aizawa, All Might, Mirio JJK - Toji, Nanami, Higuruma HQ - Daichi, Ushijima

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jjk smut #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha smut #my hero smut

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call-sign-shark · 1 year

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Heaven In Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: Beaten with guilt and shame after losing his temper again, Arthur's aimless wandering leads him to church. There she is and, after diving into her heavenly eyes, he is convinced God has sent him His sweetest angel to save his bastard soul.

Words: 2.6k

TW: Blood, a bit of angst, slight blasphemy and bad use of holy water, reckless x caretaker Inspired by the prompt "Where does it hurt? - Everywhere" by @the-three-whumpeteers

Notes:

✞ Timeline: between seasons 2 and 3

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here). Heaven’s voice and song is linked, all you have to do is click on the lyrics.

NEXT CHAPTER || Masterlist

The stumbling tall silhouette of Arthur Shelby was crossing through the thick haunting mist of Birmingham. As unwelcoming the town was during the day, it was nothing compared to night time. When sun faded behind the horizon, chased by the pale glowing face of the moon, the whole city turned into a cut-throat area. Arthur brought the neck of the bottle he was holding to his chapped lips and gulped down a mouthful of pure Irish whisky. The fire trail the beverage left behind it as it went down his throat reminded him he was alive — he could still feel something, even though it was the alcohol’s burning. An animal growl escaped from his lips when the bottle left them only for him to lean his back against one of the church’s gigantic concrete walls. A loud raven’s croak torn the silent veil of the night, making him swears. The gravel in his voice answered to the dull bird, which was watching him from a tree with his tiny and beady eyes.

« Fooking bird, laughing at me like the rest of ‘em eh? »

The raven — which was rather large for a bird — tilted its head to the side and kept staring at the drunk man with a cunning interest. Its black eyes, shining under the moonlight, seemed filled with both a wise glare and a mocking sparkle. Soon, Arthur’s curiosity for the raven’s unusual behavior turned into a senseless anger when he understood why the bird was focusing on him, his explosive rage strengthened by the incredible amount of alcohol he had drunk a bit earlier.

« It’s the damn blood is it? Stop lookin’ at me like I’m — I’m some kind of monster, or a beast or I don’t fookin’ know what else! Go to Hell! »

The bottle flew towards the raven but it did not flicker, as if it knew Arthur was not in the shape of being quick nor particularly precise with aiming. As the glass smashed into the ground, Arthur hit the wall behind him with the back of his head and let out a frustrated scream. No more cocaine, no more auto destructive behavior nor suicide attempts for two years straight, and tonight he fucked it all up. He was convinced he could get better, and God knows he tried his best to do so. Got sober from every poison he used to take, got a religious wife that was trying to turn the wolf in him into a sheep… Hell, he even brought her flowers every damn day. But then came troubles, taking the shape of his little brother, Thomas Shelby.

He asked him to do the dirty job — again.

With his calloused hands, he took another man’s life. At first Arthur thought he would not be that disturbed at the idea of killing someone, after all he had done that almost his entire life. Just one last time, he told himself, just one last time and I’ll go back to my little peaceful life with me wife.

Yet, the guilt and the shame that struck him after bashing the lad’s head against the edge of a sink until his face became a pile of squishy flesh soon became too much to handle.

As the last spurt of blood spattered his face, Arthur’s clouded mind became suddenly crystal clear: it would never stop. After that epiphany, the older Shelby brother contemplated how everyone he deeply loved tended to use him. For Thomas and the rest of the family he was a mad dog, the combat brute whose only times he could enjoy life without a muzzle were when he had to rip someone’s throat apart. For his father, he had been nothing else than a poor naive hound that would have done anything to receive his respect. As for Linda, her love was a cruel mirage he wanted to believe with all his heart — but the illusion had vanished in smoke. Whether she considered him as her personal test subject for Christian brainwashing or as a tool to get what she wants, Arthur could not tell. What he could tell though was that he knew she did not really loved him. She wanted to mould him at her will, but he was no lamb. He was a wolf, a beaten and lonely wolf, but still one. And there was no love for rabid wolves, only a bullet through the brain to cure the madness.

As his skull buzzed with macabre thoughts, whose unpleasant noise reminded him of a furious beehive, a bewitching voice pulled him out of his auto-destructive spiraling. Standing at attention and listening carefully, he came to realize that someone was singing inside the church. Arthur’s eyelids fell on his steel blue eyes and the back of his head gently rested against the cold wall behind him, the same wall he had been previously smashing it with. A sighed escaped from his liquored lips as the angelic and hypnotizing voice, slightly muffled by the church’s heavy wooden doors, plunged him into a soft but oh-so-warm haze.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold…

Lulled by the sad melody carried away with Birmingham’s cold night breeze, the swarm of raging hornets in Arthur’s brain stopped crashing against the bony walls of his skull. Another sigh — one of relief this time, for the unbearable noisy thoughts and violent buzzing had vanished. His trembling fingers, numbed by the blows he had hit his target with one hour ago and still covered with half-dried blood, slid along his temples and slicked his hair back. The utter and feral anger he had felt was reduced to void, for even his old heart had slowed its pace down in his ribcage.

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold…

The tune, embedded with melancholy, soothed his troubled mind and to be honest, he could barely believe it. When that switch in his brain flipped, God knew he was not in control anymore - even dear Linda, who still managed to hush down some of his tantrums, could not tame the beast inside when it broke free a bit more fiercely than usual. Yet, this voice did so. This stranger, faceless and nameless ghost of the night, brought him back to sanity with the sole power of her voice. The words she was singing, with her a juvenile and enchanting tone, were wrapping his heart. Arthur sniffed and fought hard against the dawning tears that were forming delicate crystal beads at the corner of his closed eyes.

If he had been the jolly sailor bold, he would have thrown himself out of the boat to join the siren that was singing.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold.

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold…

She repeated, sadder than she previously sang.

Her song sipped through his heart and filled the cracks with molten gold. Arthur’s lips stretched in an almost invisible grin without even realizing it — By her voice, he was convinced she could repair the damaged creatures like him and make them even more beautiful than they were before they had been dragged through the trenches’ mud and shit. He had barely came to his senses, almost miraculously sobered up, when silent fell again in the church. Arthur reopened his eyes, and shook his head - Had he dreamt? Had it been the whiskey singing to him? No, he could not be that crazy right? Not quite sure if he was starting to hear voices and see things, Shelby decided that he had to found out who had been singing to his very own soul. He wanted to see her, the girl who soothed his foul heart and his twisted mind. He wanted to know, no, he HAD to know, even though his whole being was fragile like a flickering candle flame caught in a hurricane and would probably shatter in million of pieces if she turned out to be an illusion.

Gathering all his remaining strength, Arthur grabbed the handle and opened the church’s door.

[…]

A shiver ran down your delicate spine at the loud silence that floated in the gigantic and empty church. The peculiar sweet yet strong scent of myrrh, wood and frankincense filled your lungs with its holy fragrance. The vibrations of the last word you sang was still echoing in the room, swirling to the high and sculpted ceiling, from which marble angels were watching over you. If someone would have told you two years ago that the only place you would find comfort would be a church, you would not have believe it. You had never been particularly fervent about religion, but you did believe in higher forces whether they were good or bad. More than a matter of faith, the church itself was an old friend of yours. A gargantuan friend of stone, holy titan always welcoming you even in the darkest moments of your life. What you liked the most were these lonely moments at night, during which you could light up dozen of candles and sing your sorrow to the status and colorful stained-glass windows. No gossip from the parish, no believers swarming like ants within these mighty walls. There were just you, the candle lights and the soothing silence. For a few hours, you could finally find peace.

Brushing the varnished wood of the altar with your thin fingers and painted-red nails, you let your mind drift and, suddenly, the world around you vanished. You sunk so deep in the abyss of your thoughts that you did not hear the creaking sound of the heavy door opening, nor the footsteps that followed. All you could heard were the « Burn witch, burn! » that hundred of villagers screamed at you in the woeful remembrance of your past. And in spite of your immaculate porcelain skin, you bore the scars of their words deep in your soul.

[…]

Arthur made a few steps before freezing, his body refusing to come closer as if the aura around the creature that was standing back to him , right in front of the altar lightened up with dozen and dozen of small dancing flames, was too sanctified to be violated. Bathed in the soft and warm orange hue of candles, the long white hair of the woman fell down the small of her back like an ivory waterfall. Right above her the pale glow of the full moon coming through the stained-glass window formed a luminous halo around her head.

His breathing stopped, choking in his throat at such a divine vision. The gangster opened his mouth to speak but no words managed to come out. He had never been good with words anyway. Instead he moistened his lips and swallowed, his mouth dry. The white-haired girl had started to hum the same song she had been singing a bit earlier, not aware of his presence — and he did not dare to disturbing her as if he feared God’s punishment. He took another step, the wooden floor creaking under his sole.

This time the angel — because he was convinced it was one — jumped and turned around, an expression of utter surprise veiling her sweet face. Her fox eyes, adorned with two iris so fair it reminded him of aquamarine stones, scrutinized his slightest movements. She remained petrified for what felt eternity for her but, regarding him, time had stopped for good. Arthur finally inhaled sharply, coming back to life.

All those endless nights of crying, all those endless nights of praying in vain for something or someone to save him, and here you were… His salvation.

He had asked God to send him, the most desperate sinner of all, His most beautiful Angel and He had done so.

She was not just pretty. She was otherworldly and vaguely threatening. Almost ethereal in her short white dress whose cut let her naked back for the world to see.

« I waited for ya. » He whispered.

She blinked, her full and juicy lips opening with surprise.

He stuttered, looking down and decided it was better for you if he stopped talking. The gravel in his hoarse voice, as strong as it was, sounded indescribably frail. As if this tall and slightly threatening man could shatter at your single touch. Now he felt stupid, clumsy with words contrary to Tommy and his naturally eloquent and charismatic speech. In addition to the unpleasant impression of being a fool, Arthur’s own whisky-scented breath and the strong metallic smell of blood reminded him of his horrific appearance. Overcoming the awe you infused in him, panic started to kick.

You frowned, and all of sudden he did not look that impressive anymore. Swept away by the wind, your face relaxed and wrapped itself with a calm, almost placid expression. You exhaled through your nose and walked towards the gangster, who had brought his bloody hands to each side of his head and was now pulling his own hair in a desperate attempt to not lose track.

« Where does it hurt? » You asked with a quiet and soothing tone, for you were concerned about all the blood he was covered with.

Arthur raised his gaze toward the petite white-haired doll who had just pressed one of her cold little hands on his. Your ice against his fire made his legs weak and his heart missed a beat. How his breathing calmed down at your touch was a mystery, but it did. Not quite comprehending why you did not seem scared of him, he stuttered again, all flustered.

« Shhh, shhhh. Everything’s okay, take a deep breath and answer with all the time you need. » Your hand gently tightened its grip, willing to show him you were there and you were not going anywhere until he feels better.

« Where does it hurt? »

« Ev-Everywhere love. It hurts everywhere. »

His hands, his face, his body, his brain, his soul, his damn tortured soul… It all ached too much, and too constantly for him to bear anymore. E-ve-ry-where, that was all he could say because pain was all he could feel.

Without answering, you pulled him to the altar and invited him to sit on the marble stairs. The strong and fierce gangster followed you without the single physical resistance and gave in between your hands, as a rag doll. All he did was looking at you with his charming but oh-so-exhausted blue eyes as you tore the fabric of your dress near your thighs and soaked it in holy water.

« Let me wash away the blood. » Your voice echoed in the vastness of the church, enticing and haunting at the same time — enough to send a pleasant shiver down his spine. You had barely finished your sentence when you started rubbing the wet cloth against his hollow cheek to clean his pale skin from the dark red blood. Once again, he could not help watching you during the whole ordeal all the while enjoying the fresh sensation of the holy water cleansing the dirt of his soul. Not minding his stare filled with fascination, you focused on your task, brows slightly furrowed and fingers blessing him with the softest and most caring touch someone had given him.

« Yer an Angel. I swear you are eh. »

You quickly glanced at him, a sparkle of amusement shining in your cunning celeste blue eyes, before looking back at what you were doing. The weight of his gaze brought fire to your cheeks, for he looked at you like he had just realized what love was.

He looked at you, and to his greatest surprise, found Heaven in your eyes.

I'm super new in the Peaky Blinders fandom, so please bear with me... Especially since English is not my native language. To be honest I am kind of scared to post it so any comment, review, reblog or constructive criticism is welcome. Also, I'll be more than happy to meet people in the Peaky Blinders fandom! In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed some Arthur and Heaven. Still don’t know if I’ll write a full series or snipets of these two love birds.

Tags: @areyenotfondofmelobster

#Arthur shelby #Arthur shelby x reader #Peaky blinders #Peaky blinders x reader #Arthur shelby x oc #arthur shelby x ofc #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fluff #Arthur shelby imagine #Thomas Shelby #Tommy shelby #Arthur Shelby x Heaven #Heaven Shelby #Arthur Shelby fluff

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a-living-canvas · 14 days

Text

Broken hourglass

TW : Dehumanisation

"You may call me sir or master." Whumper ordered as they were adjusting the collar on Whumpee's neck. Whumpee frowned, "What? Why should I?" Whumper finished putting the collar before they stood up straight again and sighed.

They walked to the metal table, examining every single one of the tools. "I'm your owner now. You ought to listen to my words." Silent enveloping them for a moment. Whumper pulled the leash that connected with the collar.

"Come, pet."

Whumpee fought against the rope, they backed away to the wall. Whumper blinked twice before they pulled it again, slightly harder. Whumpee still didn't budge from their spot. Whumper sighed, on the verge of losing their patience. They pulled the leash again more intensely.

"Come on, now…!"

"No!"

Whumper tightened their grasp on the leash and pulled it with more force. Whumpee struggled yet again. "No! Let me go! You freak—!"

Whumper slapped them hard on the cheek, silencing them. They walked behind Whumpee before putting a blindfold over their eyes. "W-wait, what are you—"

"Shut up. Can you stop being obnoxious for a second?"

Whumper walked in a circle around Whumpee, silently judging them. They trailed their gaze up and down at their pathetic form.

"Kneel."

Whumper ordered with a firm tone. Whumpee stood motionless on their spot, gritting their teeth in rage. They would have launched at Whumper if not for these pesky restraints. Whumper crossed their arms,

"I said kneel—"

"I won't fucking kneel for you, you dumbass!"

Silent.

Whumper walked and stopped in front of Whumpee. They poked their blindfolded eye with their finger lightly. "You won't?" Whumper took out a sharp knife from their pocket.

"Then I'll make you."

"W-wait, what do you—" Whumpee flinched and yelled loudly as they felt a sharp pain on their front thighs. Their knees buckled and they slumped to the floor along with their soft whimpering. Whumper watched them kneeled in amusement and satisfaction as they were smirking down at them.

"Now, can you bark for me?"

"...w-what..?" Whumpee asked breathlessly. They could feel blood under their palms as it was slipping out from their thighs. Whumper chuckled, they ruffled their hair in somewhat a mocking manner.

"I asked you to bark for me, Whumpee. You can do that right? You are a dog, after all."

Whumper grabbed a fistful of Whumpee's hair before they brought their face to them. "Now, be loyal to your owner and bark."

"I…I don't want to…"

"Oh yeah?"

"Y-yes…"

Whumper hummed in thoughts. They let go of Whumpee's hair before they pinched their cheek. "Then, I have no choice but to put you in a muzzle. You know, so you won't be able to talk and maybe I won't give you any food—"

"W-wait, please…please don't do that!"

Whumper ignored Whumpee's pleading as they continued to talk.

"...if you behave, then…yeah, I might give you food. But who likes a bad dog like–"

"W-woof…"

Whumper smirked, "Hm? What was that?"

Whumpee swallowed their embarrassment and shame down their throat. "Woof…woof…"

Whumper ruffled their hair affectionately. "Aww, look who's finally being a good dog for me! Always so good for me, hm?" Whumpee put their head down as they continued to be treated like an animal. Their fingers curled up tightly, their palms nearly bleeding from their sharp nails digging down on it.

Whumpee heard the sound of a plate colliding with the floor before it was placed in front of them. They tried to reach the food with their hand when Whumper said,

"Ah ah ah, don't use your hands. You gotta use your nose to find the food and your mouth to eat it."

Whumpee obeyed. They leaned their head down a little before they started sniffing for the food. They crawled for a short moment and when their nose was hovering above the food, they grimaced. It's a dog food. Specifically in a can. Whumpee knew Whumper bought the expensive one for them, because they used to buy the same brand to their beloved dog at home.

Whumper snickered, "Aw, come on. What are you waiting for? Don't you feel hungry?"

"...I can't eat this."

Whumper rolled their eyes, "Oh, you can. You are just being a brat."

Whumper walked to the door, leaving Whumpee alone. "I would give you human food if you behave and eat the dog food for now."

The basement door shut close before the sound of it being locked could be heard. Whumpee stuck in that kneeling position for minutes. They refused to eat the kibbles no matter what. However, after half an hour passed, their arms started giving out. Their stomach rumbled loudly. They leaned their head down again, parted their lips before sticking their tongue out to eat.

They ate in silence as tears were dripping down onto the food.

#whump community #whump writing #dehumanisation #whumper

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calmcoldevening · 3 months

Note

hello!! was wondering if i could send in a bo sinclair x reader request? maybe where reader gets injured because of another slasher (maybe the hewitts)? like, the hewitts stumble upon ambrose for some reason, and thought getting the reader and sinclairs would be easy food, but the sinclairs and reader (who doesn’t take apart in the sinclair’s… hobbies, but does so this time cause it had to) do manage to defeat them and stay alive

Bo Sinclair x reader

Tw: blood, minor injury, murder, a little bit of cruelty

Getting along with Bo has always been quite difficult, and loving him is even more difficult. The character of this man could be compared to a restless volcano that could explode literally at any moment. But somehow you managed to subdue him. Every time there was a conflict between the brothers, you just grabbed Bo by the ear and pulled him aside, scolding him. A man will swear at you and call you unflattering words, but you know that he really doesn't mean it. That evening, when you are getting ready for bed, he will come into the room and climb onto the bed, comfortably settling between your legs. His face is on your stomach, his eyes are closed, and you gently stroke his hair. Only a short "Sorry" will come out of his mouth, but this is already a great success. Bo didn't like to admit that he was wrong, but you managed to deal with that stubborn side of him. You're special to him.

You spent most of your time at home. The boys didn't know how to do much on their own, for which, of course, you scolded them, but in the end you accepted it. Although you managed to teach Lester to clean floors and carpets on his own, it was already a great success. In general, almost all the housework was on you. But you didn't complain. After all, you didn't like to participate in the bloody games of this family, so you preferred to clean up the mess.

You've gotten used to it over time. You almost ignored the bloodstains in the house and on the men's clothes (although you forbade them to bring victims into the house) and ignored the screams of another person who became a victim of Bo's "art".

It was an ordinary summer day. Although it had been quite cloudy since the morning, the once bright blue sky was now covered with heavy gray clouds, but the rain did not seem to be going to start. Despite the sad weather, it was still quite hot and even stuffy outside. So you chose to spend the whole day at home. Lester went somewhere in the city early in the morning, Bo left and went to another church service, wanting to remember his mother, and Vincent locked himself in the basement. The only living thing next to you was Jessie, who was always happy to keep you company. The dog joyfully ran up to you, rubbing its muzzle against your leg. You smiled, scratching her behind the ear. She was an obedient pet, although she often rushed at strangers. A protective girl.

You were in the kitchen cooking dinner when out of the corner of your eye you saw a strange silhouette at the front door from the street. Frowning, you put the knife aside and wiped your hands on a towel. Your heart is racing in your chest. At first you thought it was Bo, but the steps were too slow and heavy. You grabbed the biggest knife you had from the shelf and hid under the table, holding your breath. It seemed like minutes before a pair of strong legs in heavy boots appeared in front of the table. You lifted the edge of the tablecloth slightly, hoping to see the stranger, but a few pitiful inches from your Liza there was a chainsaw blade covered with dried blood. Your blood froze in your veins and you reflexively backed away, hitting your back against the table leg. The table shook with a slight crack. The sudden movement definitely alerted the man. The steps became more circumspect and cautious as he moved around the table. You tightened your grip on the knife handle in your hand. Closing your eyes for a moment, you prayed in your mind that the boys would already know for sure that there was someone else in town.

Heavy breathing. You quickly look around and notice how the edge of the tablecloth lifts and a face covered with an ugly mask with long hair appears in front of you. You scream and convulsively crawl back. Getting to your feet, you run to the front door, behind you you can hear the engine of the chainsaw starting. Your heart is pounding in your ears when you run out onto the porch and slam the door behind you. Bam. The flimsy wood of the door is immediately cut through by a sharp saw blade.

Your first impulse was to run to the gas station, but if this scary man was here, then he was probably already on that side of the city. You explode from the spot and run towards the abandoned shops. Considering his size, the man turned out to be very fast. You didn't have time to properly hide behind the shelves at one of the walls of the store, as the glass door immediately opened with a strong creak. You took a deep breath, watching his chaotically moving figure. A man in a leather mask scurried back and forth through the store and literally tore down the shelves with his big body and weapons. Finally, he got to the shelf where you were sitting. A moment later, the wooden shelves above you were quickly cut by the blade of a chainsaw. You pushed the remaining structure at the man, causing him to stagger back a little, and ran out from behind the shelves. Taking advantage of his momentary confusion, you found nothing better than to decide to try your luck. There was this strange masked face in front of you. Without thinking twice, you gripped the blade of the knife with both hands and with one jerk plunged the sharp metal into his face. You pierced a stranger's eye. He growled, stepping back. His hand reflexively dropped along with the work tool as he plugged the wound with his free palm. The working blade of the chainsaw went right along your thigh.

After a couple of long minutes, you were sitting under one of the seats in an old movie theater full of wax figures. Your hip was throbbing, and the adrenaline in your blood was starting to fade, bringing the pain back to your senses. You squeezed the bleeding wound with force, feeling the warm liquid flowing down it. It seemed that all the energy was leaving your body along with the blood. You closed your eyes wearily. It almost didn't matter if that freak was wandering around looking for you. Your head was slowly getting heavier, and at the same time, your vision was blurred. Painfully. Cold.

A dull shot was heard, followed by a strong impact on the wooden floor of the cinema.

When everything went quiet, you felt a pair of strong arms around your limp body. Your head almost reflexively clung to the long-awaited warmth.

Bo gently squeezed you in his arms. His whole body tensed when he saw the bleeding wound running down your leg. The man hurried back home as soon as possible. He sat down wearily on the sofa, arranging you on his lap, and opened the first-aid kit. One hand stroked your healthy thigh soothingly, while the other carefully treated your wound.

"God, my baby.. I'm sorry I didn't come right away. I had to take down a few other bastards first," Bo muttered with a sad grin, hoping you could hear him, "And hey, did you really pick up a knife? You've ruined half of that freak's face. I'm shocked. You're so good. I thought that this is a fragile thing. But no, you are my beautiful and strong person, my love."

The man looked down at you with a smile. He saw that you were tired, both from the chase and from the loss of blood, and now you are snuggled in his arms. Bo held you protectively in his arms, kissing the top of your head. He won't let something like this happen again.

#slashers x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair imagine #thomas hewitt #the leatherface

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sorrowfulrosebud · 1 year

Text

The Lone Wolf (again…)

Wolf! Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Contents: in which Wolf! Katsuki royally fucks up

Genre: extreme angst

CW: this is a very dark fanfic so I can’t really put the tws without spoiling the story. I’ll try my best anyway. TWS for blood, neglect, death and etc.

This is for @vampyrsm s collaboration! I’m sorry it took so long but it’s finally here! It can also be considered an alternative AU for my papa wolf series and can be read as a stand-alone piece.

“I’m leaving you”.

These were the words that made you stop scrubbing the dishes in the basin as the muscular frame of your mate stood unbreakably behind you. Your brows furrowed at the proclamation, wondering where the hell it had come from.

You had had a slight idea that he was unhappy, being more growly and quick to trigger than usual, but you had just assumed that he was nearing his rut again. Determined to see what he had to say, you stood your ground and remained facing the stone basin. The slight trembling in your hand informed Bakugou that you had indeed heard what he had sprung on you and took your silence as a means of continuing his speech.

“I’m getting soft and weak, for god’s sake. I’m a wolf, not some sort of damn domesticated house pet that you can play with whenever you feel like it. I can feel it that staying here is making me lose my edge, and what kind of wolf would stay with some sort of weak little human like you, huh? The very idea would have you slaughtered in my pack for acting like a domesticated pet,” Bakugou spat. The way he borderline snarled the word made it seem like it was some sort of dirty slur.

But I suppose, when you are forcefully ripped from one lifestyle and thrown into another, you’re bound to feel shaken up. That’s the strange thing though. The last year and a half of your life after meeting him was the best time of your life, and judging from the endless belly rubs, walks in the woods and helping him through his ruts, you were certain he had the same feelings for you as you did him.

==================================

The way you had met was less than conventional; when checking your rabbit traps and snares in the forest, you had found Bakugou muzzled, naked and chained by a collar to one of the thickest trees with a huge gaping wound slicing his Achille’s tendon to prevent him from running away. (Not that he could have to begin with. You figured that it was to add insult to quite literal injuries).

As a twig snapped under your hunting boots, the thrashing of the chain ceased as carmine eyes pored into yours. You were mesmerised by how a well-sculpted man could seem so animalistic until you were able properly see the well hidden ash blonde ears tucked in with the rest of his hair and with a quick swish, you were also notified of a fluffy tail being raised on alert. A sharp snarl pierced the air as Bakugou tried lunging at you, secretly dying internally from the horrible humiliation of someone from the species he’s mortal enemies with seeing him in such a disgusting manner.

In Bakugou’s pack (as he explained to you), being even remotely associated with humans would mean that you were the lowest of the low; a domesticated dog who would do cheap tricks for their master. Bakugou had been found sneaking off to the local human village to observe how humans function as a society, to study what they eat, how they take care of their young and how they farm crops. The leaders of the pack (his parents) decided that the punishment should fit the crime:

First, the traitor would be stripped naked as a symbol of stripping their morals for the enemy

Next, the heels would be sliced open to prevent any further disloyalty to the traitor’s new master by running away after the disloyalty for the pack was displayed

Then the traitor would be muzzled since it is a reflection of the biggest rule in the pack: NEVER SPEAK TO A HUMAN

The most humiliating thing was next. The traitor would be collared and leashed to a tree in hunter territory since acting like a pet means that you get treated like a pet, much like a dog being chained to a kennel. If the traitor loves humans so much, they can see how much they enjoy being skinned for their fur and having their teeth torn out for jewellery.

Eager to help the handsome stranger that you found, you raised your arms in peace and ambled slowly in front of him. You were EXTREMELY aware of his claws so you sat a good three feet away. Bakugou couldn’t deny that he was intrigued by your actions; he was still highly on guard but most hunters would have raced away for a spear or bow and arrow to put him out of his misery. With a small smile, you had introduced yourself to him to try to establish some sort of relationship, only to be met with an annoyed growl and chuff of his breath. In an instant you totally remembered that he was naked and rootled through your bag for a spare pair of hunting trousers that you carried. Your soft hands held them out to Bakugou to see if he wanted them instead of sitting there with his whole body on show.

Bakugou made no move to grab them from you, thinking that you had doused them in chloroform or some other drug that would seduce him to sleep. Instead, he just glared at you with intense eyes. The yanking on the chain had stopped completely as he studied you ferociously.

“Go on, you can take them! I can’t guarantee that they’ll fit you but I’m sure it’s better than sitting out here naked and covered in your own blood,” you offered with a gentle smile. Katsuki glowered at you as you set them down for him and turned your back so he could change himself.

Internally, Katsuki was in two minds; accept the clothes and kill you at any point in time if you threatened him, or sit here bound and helpless for god knows how long…

Katsuki growled as the fabric temporarily dug into his bleeding heels. He eventually managed to shimmy them up his legs, toned calves strained against the fabric due to their size.

“Are you done? Can I turn around right now?” You asked him politely. Katsuki let out an annoyed growl at your question, but you took it as a yes. You turned back around, borderline chuckling at the size of your trousers on Katsuki’s lower half before immediately being shut up with an angered glare.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Now you’re going to have to stay still whilst I-” you fumbled in your pocket for a knife, the silver blade glinting in the sun.

You only just managed to avoid the swiping of claws against your skin as Katsuki lunged for you, hackles raised and sandy ears pulled taunt against his head. Your fingertips pressed against the wound and you audibly winced at the amount of blood; even though he nicked you, there was still 4 big slits in the side of your tunic.

“Fuck, shit that hurts! What the actual fucking hell, asshole?!” You yelled at him, “I was going to unlock the muzzle around your mouth!”

Katsuki still growls, but his ears go back to normal. His entire body feels so… sluggish.

“Woah, hey are you okay?” Your face donned a worried look as the adrenaline of his night finally floated away from him and he slumped unceremoniously at your legs.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The pops and crackling of the toasty fire surrounded Katsuki’s senses as he finally started the descent out of sleep. He had no fucking clue where he was; there were certainly no soft couches back in his cave, nor were there little carved woodworks of various woodland creatures.

A soft humming could be heard from what Katsuki would assume to have been the kitchen. You entered Katsuki’s eyesight with a carefully balanced tray of stew (lamb by the small of it), and placed it carefully on the oak coffee table next to your plush couch. Katsuki shot up from the couch, snarl in his throat, ears all the way back and hackles raised as you raised your hands once again.

“Hey, relax, please! I’m not going to do anything, I swear! I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. You passed out on me in the woods, so I took you back to my house to clean your wounds and feed you,” you lowered your hands to your waist and looked at Katsuki for his reaction. His ears slowly went back to their original position, the glint from his fangs could still be seen. His breathing was harsh, toned pecs heaving in his fear rage.

He slowly reached for the bowl of stew before sniffing it.

Well, it doesn’t smell poisoned. He thought. Might as well eat some, I’m fucking starving.

He tucked in with hesitation, but as soon as the first bite of juicy lamb hit his tongue, the bowl was next to empty. You stood dazed at how fast he consumed the bowl before offering your hand out to him. Katsuki immediately shrank back on the couch.

“Woah, I just wanted to know if you wanted seconds? You’re obviously hungry and there’s plenty more in the pot if you want some,” you spoke gently to him, almost like he was a pup, or a wild animal. Katsuki clearly thought for a second before shoving the bowl in your chest with an annoyed huff. You smiled at him widely before trotting back into the kitchen.

It suddenly dawned on him that he didn’t have any extra heaviness from that damned collar on his neck, and upon further inspection, you actually had stitched up the gaping wounds on his ankles. He still wore the trousers you had gifted him, so he was at least quietly grateful that you granted him privacy.

Well. This is going to be one hell of a summer.

=================================

“Katsuki, what the hell do you mean? You’re leaving?? When did you decide this?!” You turned around to face him properly and were instantly met with an annoyed expression.

“It doesn’t matter when I decided it, I’m fucking leaving and there’s nothing you can do about it!” He snarled at you. Deep inside, he loved you more than anything he could ever think of. He wanted to be your mate for his entire life, to wake up with you every morning and maybe if you would let him, indulge in his fantasy of having a few pups of your own. Alas, he had heard rumours around the village about a group of werewolves terrorising the local village’s cattle and he desperately wanted to see his old pack again.

“But Katsuki, please think about it! Where would you go?! You know that if your old pack were to see you again, they are more likely inclined to kill you!” You shouted at him, face crumpled up in tears.

“No they fucking wouldn’t, my pack respected and adored me! I just put my own personal interests before the safety of my pack, and that got me landed here in this shitty fucking cabin with you. A filthy human who would probably sell me to a hunter the minute I started acting like a true wolf,” he snapped back, his eyes dilating to pin pricks in his anger. Your own eyes glared back at him with tears delicately lacing your lash line.

“They. Fucking. Left. You. For. Dead. You went against your pack, and your PARENTS of all fucking people decided that they would slice their own fucking SON and LEAVE HIM FOR DEAD! I have done nothing but take care of you, through each of your ruts, each full moon, I EVEN FUCKING NURSED YOU BACK TO HEALTH.

DAY AND FUCKING NIGHT, I WAS AT YOUR SIDE HELPING YOU TO WALK AGAIN! EVERY INJURY YOU EVER HAD, I WAS THERE TO CLEAN UP AND KISS. SO DON’T YOU EVER FUCKING DARE SAY THAT I’M JUST SOME STUPID FUCKING HUMAN WHEN I WAS MORE OF A PACK TO YOU THAN YOUR OWN FAMILY!” The words were spewing like venom at this point, you couldn’t fucking breath and the tears were pouring down your face thick and fast. In an instant, Katsuki had a death grip on your wrist, carmine eyes reduced to slits and his ears were flat against his head.

“Don’t. You. Ever. Disrespect my fucking pack again. Y’know, my pack was right. Humans do nothing but brainwash you into domestic shit. This was a mistake from the start,” he spat maliciously. His claws were digging deep into your wrist, making your face screw up in pain.

“K-Katsuki, let go! You’re hurting me!” You sobbed as you tried to pry him off. It wasn’t until the smell of blood hit his nose that Katsuki realised that he had actually hurt you. With a cry of pain, you clutched your bleeding wrist to your chest. The red stained your shirt a violent colour.

Katsuki could feel his rage ebb away and was slowly being replaced by worry.

“Woah, hey are you ok-“ he tries before you flinch away from him, hitting your back against the sink behind you in an attempt to get away. Your whimpers physically hurt him in ways he never knew existed.

“Hey, don’t push me away! I’m trying to see-“ he tries again before you finally turn to him and his heart breaks further at your teary face.

This was such a stupid fucking thought, he was so fucking stupid, why the hell would he leave you for his old pack?! Katsuki finally reflected on your words before his blood felt like ice. Why would he say such awful things to you to try to prove to an old pack who left him for dead?!

“Baby, please, I want to help,” he borderline whimpers, ears twitching dolefully. Your face screwed up in anger before you stood at your full height.

“You want to leave you fucking bastard, then leave. I’m not going to fucking stop you. I hope your pack was fucking worth the one person who stuck with you these last few years. Now, get the fuck out of my house.” You snarled lowly, eyebrows furrowed in pain. Katsuki reached out for you with a trembling hand before you started borderline shrieking.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I CALL THE DAMNED HUNTERS TO SKIN YOU ALIVE!”

Katsuki had never felt so low in his entire life. You started swaying in your rage, trying to shoo him away. He let out a whimper as he looked at you one last time before fleeing out of the house, your screams of pain and fear ringing in his head.

==================================

1 year later…

Katsuki was miserable. Utterly, and purely miserable. He had found his old pack, and for a moment that had hope flutter through his stomach. Until of course, as you predicted, they tried to kill him for his betrayal (and the fact that he still stank of human).

Slurs of “pet” could be heard through the snarls as Katsuki had narrowly avoided claws and fangs, before tumbling down a hill and running for his life. It was against his morals to do so but he couldn’t face losing another family.

For the past year, Katsuki had tried making his own way of life; finding a small cave further into the mountain range near your cabin and stealing from the local village for meats and blankets. He made his own new home, but it didn’t feel the same without you whatsoever.

He missed you. He missed your sleepy smiles, he missed your stupid little jokes, he missed kissing you awake on Sunday mornings, he missed… you. Every night, his hands loosen the thick red collar you had given him as a joke and thumbed it carefully. Trembling hands caress the leather as small tear stains plop onto it and whimpers reverberate around his cave. It may have started as a joke, but he never took it off even after you threw him out, only to lament painfully on his regret. Most nights he substituted your soft body for his tail, clinging on to it until it hurt.

He hadn’t seen you for a year. 365 days without your cuddles, belly rubs, gentle kisses and warm smiles. Katsuki could feel himself going mad, so he made a decision.

He was going to apologise.

==================================

Katsuki checked his appearance in a puddle that had accumulated in his cave; his hair was somewhat kept better, his ears and tail were freshly groomed and he held a large bouquet of wild flowers he found in a field.

Katsuki let out a shaky breath before hardening his face.

“I just have to show her how much she really means to me. I can’t- I can’t be without her.”

And so he began the trek to your cabin.

==================================

He began to walk at dusk; it gave him a cloak of protection from hunters, plus you would be really surprised. It only took him about half an hour to find your cabin tucked snugly in the back of the woods. But the sight before him made his blood feel like ice.

The door was absolutely shredded. Large claw marks had sliced the door to oblivion, as well as the surrounding walls. Even though it was almost as thick as the trees that the wood came from, it was nearly folded in half and torn off its hinges.

Bile raised in his throat. As did his hackles.

“(Y/N?)” he tried anxiously.

No answer. However, he detected a new smell.

Blood.

He crept behind the door, immediately on high alert. Whatever did this was not fucking human.

His heart lurched dramatically at the state of your home; all of your belongings were either torn to shreds or thrown across your floors. Carpets were torn up, pillows shredded, curtains torn from their windows.

“(Y/N)! I’m not fucking joking, if you’re there then say something!” He yelled through the house. Fluffy ears twitched intensely, desperate to hear some call of validation. He was frightened absolutely shitless. The only other time he had felt so afraid was the day he lost you.

Creak…

Katsuki pinpointed the noise to upstairs. All survival instincts flew out of the window as he bolted up the stairs, only thing on his mind was to ensure your safety. He nearly fell down a few steps before reaching what was your shared bedroom.

The bile actually came out.

Your bedroom door was identical to the one downstairs; torn to shreds and laid in pieces on the ground. The soft blankets that laid on your bed had gigantic claw marks slicing through them, all the way down to your thick mattress.

Again, your curtains were brutally ripped off the window. The window itself had been smashed, shiny fragments glittering across the entirety of the room. Katsuki stepped lightly on the floor, the smell of blood poisoning his sensitive nostrils.

It was the strongest in your bedroom and-

“Oh my fucking god, no.”

Strewn like a rag doll, mangled on the floor in an inhumane position was

you.

The exact same slices on your door were buried deep into your stomach and neck. Thick, red torrents of blood seeped from your body and deep into the wooden floor. Your eyes had completely glazed over, staring back at him with gray.

Tears had crept down your face in your last few moments; Katsuki could smell the salt on your face.

“B-baby? Oh my fucking god, please no!” He screamed brokenly into your corpse. His tears dampened the dress you were wearing (the same one you wore when he tore your heart from its chest). All Katsuki could do was scream in pure, unfiltered pain at the loss of his love.

Memories of you both flittered through Katsuki’s mind. Mornings where the sunlight trickled into your bedroom as he studied your face sleepily. Memories of the sweet and shy kisses, of lazy summer days, of comfort from agonising nightmares all cursed Katsuki as he mourned your death.

He truly had nothing now. No family. No friends. No you.

So, Katsuki did the only thing his paralysed mind could think of; the same claws that scarred your wrist brought hell down on his neck, his claws shredding his gullet within seconds.

Katsuki coughed, once, twice before the metallic tang of blood seeped into his mouth and seeped down his face in buckets. Not that he could see before due to the tears in his eyes, but the quickening of the blood down his body reduced his vision greatly, black spots already swimming in and out of his peripheral.

He only managed to sink down beside you, wanting his last dying moments to be beside the very person that made him happy. The very person who changed his life. The very person who’s life he had ruined.

Through the tears, Katsuki nestled his head close to you, tears dripping on to your wounds as he found it increasingly difficult to breath. He gasped unconsciously for breath as he tried to grip on to you, feeling scared of his descent into death. As long as you were there, he would follow you and plead for forgiveness.

He started to feel content.

‘I- I’m so sorry. I’m coming,’ he thought. His face rested on your shoulder as his body started to shut down completely.

But it wasn’t until his final breath did his eyes shoot open one last time at the sound of the four small whimpers across the room.

“D-daddy?”

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou #hybrid bnha #wolf bakugou x reader #bakugou angst #wolf Bakugou #Wolf Bakugou angst #hoo boy this took months #hybrid bnha x reader #papa wolf katsuki #major tw #bnha x reader angst #MHA x reader angst

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8-rae-rae-8 · 3 months

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My MasterList

I will do requests for HCs, Drabbles, edits, and fics. I will not do reader/self inserts

I write for DBH, CoD MW, and TEW

Requests are always open

Call of Duty Fanfiction:

CoD Edits:

CoD HCs:

CoD Agere/Petre Fanfiction:

CoD Agere/Petre Boards:

CoD Agere/Petre HCs:

AUs:

CoD Baseball AU (Updated) | CoD X TEW AU | CoD Fighting Ring AU - Fighters/Handlers | Dog Fighting AU (CoD) - Graves' Part |

［.+:｡☆.+:｡］

CoD Drabbles

Detroit: Become Human Masterlist

My AgeRe And PetRe StimBoards/MoodBoards

The Evil Within (1/2) Masterlist

Fic Recommendations (All Fandoms)

Tags I use and anon emojis are in the tags

I'm sixteen

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darling-i-read-it · 9 months

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Hi, i hope you're doing great. Can I please request headcanons where chris redfield is really stressed out from work and he comes home and accidentally lashes out at the reader and tells her she's too much or amth? The reader feels bad and distances herself from him because she doesnt want to annoy chris anymore. Sorry if this is too long.

Have a great day!

hi love! I hope you enjoy this, I always love writing for chris and i think him being overwhelmed and stressed is a nuanced topic that leads to a lot of his not so fun behavior. it's really realistic and i love him with my whole heart so i will write him in every scenario i can

angst tw :(

Chris was often overwhelmed at work. There was no way to actually describe what he goes through on a day to day basis because it's so insane always and he's constantly on the move.

Because of this, he always has no life when he comes back to you at home. He's killed people in his day job and now he's back and he just wants to go to sleep.

it's hard. It's extremely hard. On both of you.

How can he give you a life when he hardly has time to give himself one? How can he realistically be your life partner when he's never around? Should he just let you go and deal with that pain?

But you are his selfish part, the piece of him that refuses to give you up because you're the light of his life. A soothing touch when he comes home, a person who has a smile on their face and tells him silly stories and explains things to him when he's half listening.

But some days he just couldn't take anything other than that. you had to be perfect, otherwise he couldn't' stand it. He would rather be alone

He came home and the door shut behind him loudly. You perked around the corner, having come home tired from your own job, but happy to see him nonetheless.

He slid off his shoes, tossing his jacket to the side

Your smile was gentle as you got up, going to greet him at the door. You had bags under your eyes. You were tired too, sometimes he forgot about that

"Good evening," you muttered as you approached. He gave you a glance. Nothing else. Though it hurt, you tried to put yourself into his shoes as much as you could. He was taking lives everyday, how could you even begin to fathom that? "How was work?"

"Fine." The curt answer stung. You pushed on.

"I have dinner in the fridge. Nothing fancy, just breakfast for dinner." He walked past you to the kitchen. He gave you a kiss on the forehead as he went by but that was the only thing to prove he had actually seen you. You followed behind him. "Anything weird happen today?" He shook his head. He opened the fridge, leaning over it. You cleared your throat. "I had a long day. I had to deal with these shitty customers," you muttered. You sat at the dining room table, watching him. "I haven't been able to talk about it. They're so entitled you know? It's never ending, the people who think they can have whatever they want and that I'm nothing but a robot to them, doing what they need." You huffed. "I was glad to be home."

"Mhm." He grabbed the plate you had made him.

"Was your day alright?" "Can you just give me a moment?" he snapped. He turned to you, face frustrated. "I'll be here all night. There's no need to muzzle me the second I come in the door. You're not a dog."

Your mouth parted in surprise.

You got up and you left the room, apologizes slipping from your lips. You retreated back into yourself, suddenly feeling even worse about your day.

A dog?

Did the think you were like a dog?

Loyal to no fault, always happy, never asking questions...

You shut the bedroom door behind you, grabbed some clothes to sleep in and got in the shower. You stayed in the shower till you pruned up. You thought maybe Chris would knock on the door, ask if you were okay, demand to get in the shower but nothing came. You heard no sounds outside of the beat of water against your back.

When you finally got out, you were met with him already in bed, asleep.

You slept on the couch, feeling miserable.

When you woke up it was to the sound of him getting ready for work. It was familiar. Ruffling of the keys, boots hitting the ground, coffee pot being turned on. You opened your eyes, remembering the pain from the night before. The lack of apology.

He came into the living room. Your eyes followed him, still sleepy. He sat by your feet.

"Are you awake?" he asked quietly. He was up so early, the sun still hadn't risen. You nodded. He didn't look at you. "I didn't mean to snap at you yesterday," he breathed. His voice was so quiet to the morning air.

"Do you think I'm a dog?" you asked.

Your voice was so childlike that it pained him. He tried to remember what kind of pain he had caused you just by saying something he would quickly forget.

"No. No, I'm sorry I said that. I was tired and exhausted and it was a hard day." He finally looked at you. He hated seeing that look in your eyes, the pain. "I'm so grateful to have you here when I get home."

You were silent. He hung on your words.

"Stay." He paused. "Stay here with me," you whispered.

"You know I can't." "Yes you can. They'll live without you for a day," you promised. You sat up, propping yourself on your elbow. "We can't keep meeting at moments where neither of us have the wherewithal to talk." You were right, of course you were. He had been thinking about it too. "We need a break." He was silent a moment. He looked at the clock. He was going to be late anyway.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Can you come back up to the bedroom?" he asked. His voice was quiet, vulnerable. You nodded. Your head was still clouded. All you could really think about was how happy you were to have him home with you for the day. He took off his boots as you sat all the way up, grabbing your blanket and holding it around you.

He followed you upstairs. He shed his work clothes so he was back down to something to sleep in. You crawled into bed, happy to be back.

when he climbed into bed with you, he was holding you tightly. He whispered that he was sorry again. He kissed you and his lips felt like home. You could deal with the bigger things the next day. Right now you just wanted to go back to sleep with him.

#chris redfield x reader #chris redfield headcanons #chris redfield x fem!reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil headcanons #angst tw

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talesfromlissom · 6 months

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hello everything is fine? If requests are still open, I would like to know if you can do the reaction of the Decepticons (Megatron, Tarn, Overlord and Soundwave) with a Cybertronian s/o who is a cannibal and uses a fucinheira? Is she a powerful and insane warrior? If you don't want to write, ignore it, thank you.

Fandom: Transformers (IDW?)

TW: Violence, Implied Gore, Cannablism

Rules | Ask Box | Kofi

A/N: I don’t normally do IDW requests (haven't read it all, and I also assumed that's the universe you wanted), however I recognize these characters enough that I did the request anyways because my inbox has been the sahara desert for the past couple of months Anyways I loved this request, so thank you. And yes, everything is good.

MEGATRON

» He puts a leash on you, sorry.

» Your relationship is absolutely terrifying, a lord and his loyal guard dog that eats people

» When he first discovered your cannabalistic tendencies, he was shocked at first. He mainly just cops it up as a habit not yet broken from your upbringing. He had to do various unsavory things to survive being a low caste member, so why were you any different?

» relationship wise your dynamic is pretty much what is said above. You parades you around like a trophy, and sometimes even feeds you the severed limbs/organs of his prisoners. You don't mind as long as your fed apparently.

» A long time ago, (for shits and giggles) he had said that he would use you as an execution method. Mainly for individuals that betrayed him and Megatron didn’t feel like hunting them down himself. When he saw how enthusiastic you were he made it a thing.

» Nothing pleases him more than letting you out of the muzzle to go ‘hunt’ and seeing you bring back a limb, organ, or seeing your intake covered in energon. It does something to him.

» May or may not have a predator/prey kink now

TARN

» Probably the one to give you the muzzle in the first place.

» You’re definitely a member of DJD by the way, I’d imagine he’d name you after the capital of his home city.

» You and him met when he was going after yet another Decepticon traitor. He had expected to find yet another snivling coward, or a fighter.

» What he found was a half eaten corpse with you hovering over it. You looked wild, disheveled, but there was a sense of intelligence in your optics despite how much bloodshed you caused.

» And you caused alot.

» (Similar to Megatron) If on the rare occasion that the DJD’s current target gets away he send you on the hunt. He always orders you to bring them back alive, but he never says if they have to come back with all their limbs in tact.

» He prefers to kill them himself, and alternates between letting Tesarus grind them into bits or letting you eat them alive.

» He once had Tesarus grind a deserter into paste, and then Tarn served it to you as some fucked up smoothie.

» He still laughs about it to this day btw

OVERLORD

» Was most likely frightened of you at first. You were strong, probably insane because you flat out ate people without a care in the world. However, that wasn’t what frightened him.

» You were smart. Every kill you made was calculated and precise. It was always people that the others wouldn’t notice missing. You memorized their schedule, the type of energon they had, the amount of exercise they got.

» Your prey was carefully, hand selected. You had certain types of people that you went after to consume, and people you avoided like the plague.

» At first he didn’t notice that various prisoners were going missing. He didn’t care, they couldn’t escape even if they tried. He didn’t really mind if the other Decepticons had dragged some loud mouthed Autobot out of their cells to give them a piece of their mind to be honest.

» And then he found a half eaten Autobot hanging from the ceiling, and that scared the hell out of him. He knew about your tendencies to devour your fellow Cybertronian, he just never thought he’d witness the aftermath.

» Afterwards you two come with a sort of unspoken agreement. You’re clearly settling for half cooked chow and he isn’t sure how long you’ll be satisfied with that.

» He keeps a close eye on you, and has a ‘list’ of your ‘most liked’ traits in a prey. Their energon type, the functionality of their frame, that sort of thing. If they happened to win enough fights, instead of Overlord giving his usual, ‘kill me or kill yourself’ dilemma, he rearranges it to ‘kill you or kill yourself’.

» You look completely unassuming to most, and you use that your advantage.

» Overlord loves seeing the look on people’s face when you don’t go for the kill, but instead open your mouth. The moment they see what’s inside they start screaming.

» He’ll never get tired of those noises.

#//my writing #//requests #overlord x reader #megatron x reader #tarn x reader #woah first request #I haven't done anything on here in so long what else do i put

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erenxfrieda · 8 months

Text

Sweet dreams!

Miguel/Reader.

tw: unhealthy themes, villain/hero dynamic, non-consensual touching, somnophilia, use of unamed drugs, pathetic Miguel, mentions of Gabriella O'Hara, no happy ending ig. :(

Your hands touch the inner thighs of the poor hero lying on the floor, slowly moving up and down, as if trying to get the best taste of the pleasant sensation of delicate skin under the fingertips. A barely perceptible shiver passes through the body of a sleeping superhero, however, he is still unconscious, vulnerable and not resisting at all under you. If there were anyone else in your place, another villain not as fucked up as you, the hero and only justice of Nueva York would be easily killed, in just a matter of minutes after you managed to sting him with a dose of a powerful drug that knocked man to the floor like a huge bull that fell at your feet, defeated. Leaning down, you reach for his mouth, casually letting your thumb and forefinger slip inside, forcibly forcing his jaw open wider. Your fingers are covered in saliva seconds after , like he's a starving dog with a bowl of bones in front of him. Your breath quickens as you rub his tongue, soft and warm, terribly slippery, making you resist the urge to just let your fingers slide in until you can grab onto his spleen.

‘I really want to just pull out your fangs...will they grow back, I wonder? ’

‘mh...’

Miguel whimpers softly, the sound muffled and the tips of his fangs already digging into your arm, not enough to make you bleed, but not like you don't mind. You see him as an animal in need of training, too aggressive for you to have the slightest desire to sympathize with him. Could he blame you for this though? Constant stalking, chasing anomalies on all fours, practically spitting at you when he threatened to use his own fangs on your neck. What kind if fucking Spider-Man doing this type of shit? While your attention was occupied by the internal struggle, the desire to pull out his teeth or put a muzzle on him, you feel his form visibly tremble, his hands clutching at the air in a panic , trying to carefully squeeze something, so tightly that if he grabs you, your bones would have broken.

‘Gabri— please, no, no, no...’

Tears well up in his eyes, his throat tightened inside, forming a lump that is so hard to swallow to start breathing again. You look at him without saying anything, just watching his little whines and sniffles. Even with his eyes closed, he does not leave attempts to reach out to something - or perhaps someone, so close but at the same times so far away. Tilting your head to the side, you pull your fingers out of his mouth, creating a small transparent wet thread of salvia following your movement, after which, you casually wipe your hand on his shoulder, placing one hand on Miguel's chest, the other hand on his neck, for more support.

‘Mija...! por favor— don't take away my only hope...she's the only thing I live for, ’

He keeps muttering, letting out soft pleadings into the cold air as if begging you in his dreams to stop torturing him. Meanwhile you can't even pay attention to his poor self, not as if you actually care about his wellbeing. Right now, there's the other things in your mind. And you can't help but not to stop salvating at those thoughts. He maybe so weak right now, reduced to such a pathetic sobbing mess, but he is still him. The man who could snap you in half even though he's drugged like hell.

‘yeah, keep crying like a bitch, makes me even more aroused, ’ you purr, rocking your hips against his, just to make even more friction that causes a warm feeling in your stomach.

In such a state he can't even protest, can't protect his body against some small villan like you...isn't that sad? You got beaten up by him so, so much, you lost the count already. He never payed attention to someone like you, a simple job for him. Grab the bad guy, tie with those pretty neon red web, throw the bad guy into the portal like a bag of potatoes. If you're not lucky enough, maybe you'll end up being sent by this creepy fucking machine in the HQ. He unconsciouslly grows harder against you, with you on top of him, hands all over this muscular body, searching for attempts to somehow rip off this holographic suit of his from him, just to finally see how he looks like under all those pieces. Claws already digging into the floor, as his head throws back in pleasure, showing even more tears streaming down his face. You can see how heavy he breathes, his heart is pounding so fast you can almost see it jumping out of his chest. It's hard to say from what the poor man is going through the most now, maybe he'll be lucky if he still somehow feels your touch on him. Despite his desperate pleas, it pushes you onward, your soft plush thighs only rubbing harder against him, the aching bulge under his suit practically begging to be touched, maybe even get deep inside you to release this tension. He shifted slightly, grinding his erection forward into your thighs, not even realising what actually he's doing right now. It feels good, so why stop?

‘if you ruin my costume I'll choke you to death.’

you warn him, hand instinctively squezzes his neck tightly, Miguel's breathing hitched as he felt you move closer, your bodies pressing together in a way that was too intimate for comfort. His heart raced with anticipation and fear of what might happen next. He tried to suppress the growing desire within him but couldn't help himself from bucking his hips against you in his sleep. The air cut off hits his head enough to make him stir in his dream state, he lets out the soft growl, hands twitching as the fangs elongating slightly. Miguel bit his tongue hardly, biting back moans that escapes from him with every thrust in hopes to get inside you, helplessly. It's hard not to notice him twitch against the inside of your thigh, the wet trail of pre-cum staining your legs , even though he is still unaware of these actions himself.

‘please, please...don't leave me alone, mi rayito de sol.’

Poor man's hands finally finding their place on your waist, holding onto you so tight that it almost leaves mark on your skin. Breath ragged and he let out a soft cry, talons unexpectedly coming out just to strike you enough to make you bleed a little. He is too scared to let you go, too scared to even move an inch away from you, thinking that you will disappear just like the poor girl from his past. Too bad for him that you care more about yourself than laying confused Spider-Man hero underneath you. The moment you push yourself off him, he gasps loudly, once again wanting to reach for you but he can't do anything but grasp nothing in his arms, just to pull cold air in his hug and keep muttering soft apologies to himself. Maybe that would make you feel a pinch of sorry for him. Maybe not? Who knows. The moment he hears soft click of the closed door, he opens his eyes quickly, waking up from this painful but such a realistic nightmare. Chest so heavy it makes his heart swell every time he takes another breath,but he endures it, like he used to. There's no one around, just him, all alone and sitting on the cold stone floor. He felt like he lived through the same hurtful experience once again, Gabriella's begging for help ringed in his ears mixed with rough words of someone.

He still feels aching down there, wet feeling creates uncomfortable shudder on the back of his neck and it takes everything just to ignore the lingering arousal, but he decides to stand up and continue the chase. After all, Spider-Man gets back up no matter what. :)

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse smut #yandere x reader #spiderverse x reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara #dead dove do not eat

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