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luxcuriousao3 · 1 month ago

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Fevered Mistakes

Summary: Ghost, a formidable Alpha, is captured and dosed with rut inducers. You are the omega he's tossed into a cell with. WC: 3429 Warnings: a/b/o, graphic nonconsensual sex, nonconsensual drugging, unprotected PIV sex, referenced torture/experimentation, blood, vomit, death, hurt no comfort, background ghoap, POV switches denoted by triple asterisks (***) Notes: Based off the first half of this post that I made a bit ago. Ngl, I don't really like how this one turned out, but y'all were begging for it so, so I feel bad just letting it rot in my google docs lol. There are two scrapped versions of a second chapter that would make this fic farrrrr less angsty, but idk if I'm ever gonna continue this, so I'm treating this like it's a one-shot with the warnings. If I ever do post a continuation, it will be linked on my masterlist, so you can check for it there. And hey, maybe if y'all share your thoughts about this in my inbox or whatever, it might entice the brainworms again lol. Taglist: @captainsherlockwinchester110283

There was a girl in the cell.

She was small and soft in the way that almost all omegas were, though it was her scent that really gave her status away. Sweet and alluring but soured by fear, it invaded his nostrils and made him all the more dazed. The blow to his head, the one that had landed him in this situation, would have been hard enough to kill him, had he not been an Alpha.

He’d been sloppy. Let his feelings for Johnny get in the way of procedure. But seeing his beta, laid out on the floor, bleeding from his head, still as a corpse… he couldn’t have controlled himself if he tried. And at that point, he hadn’t wanted to try.

He’d gotten distracted, and he’d paid the price.

It had been three days since he'd been captured, by his best estimate. It was hard to measure, between the head injury and being kept in a room with no windows. All he had to go off of was how often someone came in to torture him for information. He never gave any up, of course. Even compromised, he never would. He'd been trained far better than that.

Still, he wasn’t in very good shape. Beaten to hell and back, his head scrambled… his feet dragged uselessly as he was pressed up against the bars, one of his captors unlocking the cuffs on his wrists while the other two kept him restrained. The fourth jammed a syringe into his neck, injecting him with some unknown substance. Ghost tried to break free, to throw a punch or a kick, anything, but his reflexes were sluggish, his thoughts painfully slow. All he succeeded in doing was annoying them, and he got an elbow to the back of his neck for the trouble.

He was no omega, couldn’t be immobilized by a simple scruffing, but fuck if that shit didn’t still hurt like a bitch. He collapsed to the concrete floor of the cell with an animalistic howl, and the sourness in the omega’s scent spiked, her heart rate speeding up. Ghost couldn’t find it in himself to care—the very last of rational thought was beginning to abandon him as the pain spread from the back of his neck throughout his entire body, growing unbearable as it reached his groin. He felt like there was fire raging just beneath his skin, and his senses sharpened as his dark gaze locked onto the wide-eyed omega curled up in the corner, neck cracking unsettlingly with the speed at which he turned. He had time for only one more thought before instincts took over, his heart dropping out his ass as dread turned the blood in his veins to ice before it began to boil all over again.

Rut inducers.

***

When you woke up, you were escorted to the cell in which you spend your heats. That confused you, since your next heat wasn’t supposed to be for another month at least.

It also terrified you.

Though you didn’t remember much of what happened during your heats, you did remember the pain. The desperate, burning need for an Alpha’s knot, and the aching, gaping emptiness when you were denied it, the only thing that could bring you any relief. This cell held nothing but bad memories, and you didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

But you had no choice. For as long as you could remember, you did as you were told, the way a good omega should. In your sleep, you thought maybe you saw glimpses of a time when things were different, when there were no scientists in white coats and men and women in military uniforms controlling your life. But you knew those were just dreams. None of it was real.

You sat on the thin mattress in the cold, dank cell for hours before something finally happened that could explain why you were there. A man was brought in—massive and with a terrifying skull mask on his face—and you barely had to take a whiff of him as he was shoved into your cell with you to know that he was an Alpha. There was that familiar smell of damp, scorched earth after a lightning strike, and you knew from the intensity of it that he was angry. No, not just angry. Furious. The very air reeked of electricity and burning plastic, overwhelming any hint of his natural scent. This was an Alpha that was ready to rip, rend, tear, kill. And you were stuck alone in a cell with him.

“Не сопротивляйтесь,” one of the uniformed men told you, expression entirely unsympathetic. It was almost worse than the look of sadistic, scientific glee on the face of the white coat next to him. “Ты сделаешь только хуже.”

Don’t fight back. You’ll only make it worse.

Your eyes widened, and you barely had a chance to shake your head before the unfamiliar Alpha was on you, grabbing your ankle in a brutal grip and dragging you away from the corner you’d curled up in. You screamed in pain as you felt the bone snap like a twig under his large palm, instinctively hitting your hands against his broad chest as you tried to fight him off. If you had been in heat, you wouldn’t have cared, wouldn’t have even felt the pain from him breaking you, would have spread your legs and begged him to knot you. But you weren’t, and so your survival instincts overtook those of your omega. You knew you would be punished later for disobeying, but at the moment, you didn’t care. Anything was better than being knotted by the feral Alpha on top of you. He would maul you to death while he fucked you, you just knew it.

The Alpha grabbed your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. The other ripped your shirt off, causing your back to arch and your tits to spill out of your bra. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and letting out a satisfied growl. You tried to headbutt him, and he snarled in your face, wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing tight enough to make your vision go black around the edges in less than ten seconds. By the time you caught your breath and were able to think again, his hands were busy yanking down your pants and underwear in one harsh tug. You let out a hoarse shriek of fear, flipping onto your belly to try and crawl away, ignoring the searing pain in your shattered ankle. But that was your fatal mistake. His beefy palm met the back of your neck, fingers digging in as he lifted you slightly by it, his other hand coming around to roughly grope your breasts.

And you stopped.

You stopped moving, stopped screaming, you nearly stopped breathing. You were limp as a ragdoll as he scruffed you, utterly and completely paralyzed. You could do nothing but take it as he shoved your face into the dirty concrete, pried your legs apart, and forced himself inside you. You could feel the agonizing pain as his cock practically tore you in half, could feel the ice cold fear freezing every cell of your body, could feel his blunt nails digging into the ultra-sensitive skin of your nape. You could feel everything. But you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

It seemed to go on forever, and yet take no time at all. One second, you were pliant and supine beneath the Alpha as he pounded into you, his weight constricting your lungs and making it difficult to breathe. The next, the restrictive grip on your neck was gone, replaced by a sharp pain at the junction of it and your shoulder as his teeth sunk into your flesh. Into your mating gland. Your own screams were echoing in the tiny cell, now, no longer confined to your head.

“M’sorry, M’sorry, M’sorry,” a rough, wet voice chanted in your ear. It was the Alpha, speaking to you in English. You could understand it, even if you couldn't speak it. He was still on top of you, still inside you, his knot stretching you far beyond your limits. And yet he was… apologizing? You stopped screaming in your confusion, the terrified screeching replaced by the sound of your heaving sobs.

“M’sorry, M’so sorry, they dosed me, M’sorry,” the Alpha continued, voice slurred. You struggled to focus on his words, distracted by the liquid you could feel dripping down your thighs. It was probably blood, you realized distantly. His knot wouldn’t have let any of his seed escape. That’s what it was there for.

That, and to keep you from running.

The Alpha’s voice grew more and more gravelly as his knot began to deflate, his apologies interrupted by grunts as he began to move his hips again, thrusting in and out of you shallowly. You whined, clawing at the floor, trying to wriggle free, but he just settled nearly his entire weight on top of you.

“Don’ fight,” he growled, and you could tell from the strain in his voice that he was at least trying to resist his instincts. It didn’t make you feel any better, especially not when his fingers inched closer and closer to your nape again. “Don’t, or m’gonna have to— fuck, I don’t— fuckin’ be a good omega an’ take it— m’sorry, fuck— don’t fuckin’ fight me—”

You were still sobbing, shrieking like a dying thing with every quick, brutal snap of his hips against yours. Too out of it from being scruffed, you missed the warning in his jumbled plea threat, continuing to struggle underneath him. You felt your ribs crack as he pressed the rest of his considerable weight onto you, and the strangled, stuttering gasp that left your throat was the kind of sound that elongated in a horror film.

The Alpha seemed to think so too, as he moaned in a horrid mixture of pleasure and abject misery before he scruffed you again. You went still, once more trapped in your own body. It was the worst sensation you’d ever felt, worse than the experiments the white coats ran on you, worse than your punishments, worse than your heats spent alone. Worse than the shattered ankle or broken ribs, worse even than the feeling of him ripping you apart from the inside. You were always helpless and vulnerable, being an omega, but this… when you were scruffed, you were no longer a person. You were just an object, to be used as your Alpha saw fit.

Your Alpha.

The man on top of you—who was knotting you for the second time now—was your Alpha. He’d claimed you, the pain in your shoulder was proof of that. You would wear his mark forever, now. You would belong to him for the rest of your life.

You prayed that it was short.

Your Alpha released his painful grip on your nape again, but you didn’t try to get away this time. You were far too disoriented. Being scruffed once was bad enough, but twice in as many minutes? You could easily go into shock from that. You probably were in shock, but you didn't panic, feeling too distant and floaty. The ice in your veins was numbing you from the inside. That was nice… you leaned into it, letting your blankly staring eyes flutter shut—

“Omega!”

Your eyes snapped back open and you whimpered, trying to curl in on yourself. That only caused pain to flare up all over your body, the burning between your legs as you tugged on his knot pulling another scream from you.

“Stay still,” the same harsh voice ordered, and your instincts forced you to obey. The command was a little more collected this time, a little more coherent, even if he was still groaning and slurring.

“Don' move,” your Alpha panted, each word sounding like it was dragged out of him. He started to fuck you once more. “Don’— don’ wanna scruff you ‘gain.”

You didn’t have it in you to be grateful. Didn’t have it in you to be sympathetic to his situation either, not while he was still rutting into you like an animal.

They dosed me, he’d said. You wished they’d dosed you. At least then you wouldn't feel the pain…

***

Simon had never hated being an Alpha more than in that moment.

Bollocks deep in a pretty little omega, one already stuffed full of his come and wearing his mark… he wished fervently that this was just another of his nightmares, the ones that stuck with him like a bad smell even after escaping Roba.

Between the disorientation from his forced rut and the nasty head injury, he almost let himself believe that it was. If it was a dream, he could give in, and he wouldn’t actually be hurting anyone. He could just ride it out, come in trousers wherever he was sleeping, and hopefully, it would end faster.

But her screams were far too real.

She wailed like she was being flayed alive as she struggled underneath him, and his Alpha—after being denied a partner for his ruts for over a decade—was brutal and swift in its response. Scruffing her like a scrappy mutt, growling in pleasure at the way she submitted to him—the way she was forced to submit to him.

It was nearly impossible to think around how fucked his head was—by instinct and injury both—but after he'd knotted her for the second time, he was able to act a little more like the trained soldier he was, and not like a panicked civvie.

He didn’t argue with himself any longer. He accepted the reality of the situation as it was. He was in rut. He was trapped with an omega. He had brutalized and claimed her. If he kept focusing on trying to stop himself altogether, he was going to kill her. He needed to give up on that and instead just try to minimize the damage.

Starting with stopping her from going into shock, and then stopping her from fighting back. It only made his Alpha all the more eager to dominate her—by any means necessary.

It sickened Simon that that part of him existed. Deep down, he feared that it always had. That Roba hadn’t created it, back in the desert. That he’d just unearthed it. All of Simon’s evilness, all his wicked desires…

It was why he’d never taken an omega before. Never even let himself date one, back when that was something he did.

Johnny was perfect, in that way. In many ways, really, but him being a beta—it soothed Simon’s fears. The fears that were being proved true.

He didn’t know how long passed before the rut inducers wore off. It had to have been hours. The omega—his omega—was still facedown on the ground when he pulled out of her for the last time. She was bleeding from where he’d bitten her, and where he’d bred her, his cock drenched in her blood, her own thighs stained with a mix of it and his come.

Simon threw up at the sight. He told himself it was just from the head injury.

He was naked, except for his mask, which was pushed up past his nose. He didn't remember taking off his trousers, though he recalled that his shirt had been cut to shreds the first day of his captivity by his torturer. He didn’t remember a lot of his mini-rut, as was common when it was induced. But the evidence of what he’d done was right in front of him. The omega—not mine, not my omega, not mine—was clad in nothing but the scraps of her clothes. Her side, hips, wrists, and the back of her neck were bruised. Her ankle was bent at a funny angle. A small patch of hair near her nape was missing, leaving her scalp red and raw. Simon looked at his hands, and found the strands woven between his fingers.

She didn’t move.

Simon pulled his mask into position and Ghost took over. He moved towards the girl, feeling for a pulse. She flinched violently when he touched her neck, and he felt relief—and guilt—reverberate through him. Ghost was good at ignoring his feelings, though.

“S’over,” he told her, voice gruff. “S’done now. Promise.”

The omega didn’t acknowledge his words, just kept her shoulders tucked up by her ears, guarding her neck. Ghost didn't protest, simply felt along her spine for any breaks. He didn’t find any, so he carefully rolled her over.

Her breasts were red and raw, nipples bleeding from being scraped back and forth across the floor. There was a hand shaped bruise around her throat, and petechiae in the whites of her glassy eyes. Ghost ignored his horror at the sight, and began to palpate her ribs. She inhaled sharply when he touched the eighth and ninth ones, a pitiful, pained whine escaping her.

The ribs were probably fractured, if not broken. The bruising above them was clue enough. There was another massive bruise low on her belly, and Ghost swore. Internal bleeding. He may have actually fucked this poor omega to death. There was no way she survived the night if she wasn't treated soon.

He got his pants and trousers on, hoping it would help her believe the worst was over, and then got to work doing what he could—wrapping her ribs with the dirty blanket in the corner, and holding the scraps of her shirt between her legs to try and stem the bleeding there. It wasn't enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. He didn’t even know if it was really worth the discomfort it caused her—but he couldn't bring himself to just let her die. She was his omega.

Not mine, not mine, not mine.

He talked to her as she faded. Tried to keep her awake with the sound of his voice, though he knew it was probably the last thing she wanted to hear. He told her stories from his childhood—the few good ones there were—told her the plot of the last film he and Johnny had watched, told her about Johnny. That was the topic he lingered on the longest. It was far easier to talk about his beta than himself. And by the time her eyes slipped closed and her shallow breathing stopped, it was Simon that was holding her, not Ghost, despite the mask on his face.

It was Simon that watched her die.

It was Simon that realized he didn't even know her name.

And it was Simon that howled with grief and rage, clutching the broken body of the omega—my omega, my omega, mine—against his chest.

Footsteps rapidly approached the cell, and Simon snarled like a rabid animal as he turned towards the bars. He barely had a second to pull his omega—dead, dead, dead, she was mine and I killed her, she was innocent and I killed her—behind him before a familiar voice rang out. The only voice that could have possibly reached him in this state, that could stop him from giving into his instincts completely and going feral.

“Simon?”

“Johnny,” Simon growled, sounding desperate and broken. He felt broken. This little omega had managed to do what Roba and a hundred others had failed at. And she hadn't even tried.

“Let us help her, Si,” Johnny coaxed, moving closer while Price and Gaz hung back. Wise, because Simon could barely keep himself from baring his teeth at his own beta. Johnny didn't back down. “Si. Let us help her.”

Simon hesitated for a long moment, fighting his overwhelming instincts, before moving away. Johnny rushed in, immediately checking the omega’s pulse and starting compressions when he couldn’t find it. Simon tried to struggle to his feet, but he nearly fell over, Gaz and Price catching him. He snarled, weakly pulling away from them, but they held fast.

“We got you, soldier,” Price’s deep voice rumbled in his ear. “Stand down.”

Simon slumped, unable to hold himself up anymore, all his injuries catching up to him.

“I killed her,” he whispered raggedly, eyelids falling shut. He felt Gaz shake him to try and keep him awake, but he simply didn't have the willpower, anymore. “She was mine and I killed her.”

The mantra rang in his head even as he lost consciousness, and her screams of pain and the look of fear on her face as she lay dying followed him into his dreams.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley angst #simon ghost angst #simon ghost x you #ghost angst #ghost x you #ghost x reader #alpha ghost #cod fanfic #cod fic #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic

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ashley-foster-13 · 3 months ago

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Hi! Me again, I just can't stop reading tmr headcanons. Can I request 'what would tmr boys reaction would be if their S/O got kidnapped instead of Minho.' Thank you!

What would tmr boys reaction would be if their S/O got kidnapped instead of Minho

- His s/o was not the type to throw themselves in danger

- however, when the berg showed on the horizon, they were one of the first people to put their hands on a rifle

- Thomas got there late, and there was no s/o in sight, so he figured they were safe

- until they sprang out of nowhere, trying to tackle Janson

- the nearby soldier knocked them out right away

- Thomas struggled against the two soldiers holding him down

- misplaced his shoulder in the process

- he yelled the name of his s/o so loudly he probably wouldn't be able to speak for a week

- a huge fight started, during it the kids, including his s/o were loaded in the berg and took off

- being reckless as he is, Thomas managed to keep Janson off board, beating the living hell out of him

- soldiers stopped him, but not before Ratman was half dead and bleeding

- Thomas didn't hide his tears

- was terrified Wicked would experiment on s/o, or kill, or God knows what else

- wouldn't stop thinking about how to save them

- would do anything to get them out alive

- would have dreams when he saves them and hugs and kisses them, wakes up with tears of happiness streaming down his cheecks only to realize it wasn't real and cry some more, but in fear and sadness

- after saving his s/o, Thomas is super overprotective of them

- like, every little thing, a paper cut or a bruise or a slightly different voice would make him run towards them, asking if they were okay

- eventually came back to normal

- but we all know he's soooooo caring and protective

- the moment he saw his s/o in Wicked's arms, his world stopped

- however, he got out of his stupor quickly, trying to run for you, but the soldier kicked his bad leg, causing him to fall

- when he finally managed to stand up, s/o was already gone

- he kept yelling curses at them, kept hitting those injured soldiers who were left there to die

- it helped nothing and he knew that

- honestly, he could've murdered someone if not for Minho, who held him in a tight hug until he calmed down

- his anger turned to an agony

- he was crying hard, because he was in terrible pain, physically and emotionally

- he vowed to get s/o back safe and sound

- would be the first to find them, as if he felt where they were

- didn't let go of their hand until they reached the Safe Haven

- both didn't go out of the hut for a couple of days, talking, crying and promising their love to each other

- when he barely escaped being captured by Wicked, he thought the victory was there

- little did he know they grabbed s/o instead

- s/o bravely fought the soldiers, but Minho couldn't see it

- and then his s/o stands on the berg, helplessness in their eyes as they take off

- and Minho just stands there, angry at Wicked, and furious with himself for being unable to help

- Newt and Thomas promise they'll find his s/o

- he became very grumpy after that, but also really really silent

- sometimes his bottled up feelings would unleash on everyone because of any little thing

- like a stupid question, or a fallen fork

- he wpuld be so eager to find his s/o he didn't even think when he stalked inside the Wicked headquarters fighting off every soldier like they were bugs

- he found s/o exhausted, hurt and bleeding

- but they were alive, that's all that mattered

- hugged them all the way back

- watched as the medics patched them up, controlling everything

- never leaving their side while rlthey recovered

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bosinclairsgff · 2 months ago

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Hi! Can I request slashers (mainly the sinclair brothers) possibly laying their hands on reader during an argument and maybe somehow the reader passes out after accidentally hitting their head or something? (Maybe make it extra angsty with blood + reader not waking up to their calls hehe)

What would their reaction be? Both during the accident and how they’d react seeing reader passed out. Angst with fluff in the end please ❤️ (reader can be gn. Tysm!!)

You sicko (I love it) sorry it took my so long writers block has actually been the bane of my existence :(

Also pretty sure I know nothing about how a real concussion works oops. Also I didn’t want them to be the exact same so Vincent’s is a lil different. Hope you still like it!

Warnings: abusive relationship, reader being hurt, cussing and fighting

Includes: Vincent Sinclair and Bo Sinclair

“Where the hell have you been?” You hear Bo yell as soon as you step through the door. It was late around 10:00 and you left at 5. “I’m sorry I went on a walk then ran into Lester and I hung out with him for a few hours. It’s not that big of a deal.” You say trying to calm the situation down. “Lester? You’ve been with Lester this whole goddamn time.” He spits out through gritted teeth. “You know you don’t leave Ambrose unless I say you can. What the fuck is wrong with you.” He says making his way towards you. “Please Bo it’s late I don’t want to fight with you.” That almost seems to piss him off more. Immediately he has a tight grip on your hair. You yelp in pain. “Oh cut the shit y/n. I let you out of that fuckin basement and welcomed you into my home. This is how you treat me? By fuckin around with my own brother?” He screams in your face. You grip his hand trying to get him to ease the grip. “Please Bo I’m sorry! I was just driving around back roads with him! I needed a break from this town!” You cry out. “Do you think I’m fuckin stupid? Huh! You filthy slut!” He yells dropping his grip on your hair letting you hit the ground. Before you can get up he kicks you harshly. You cry out in pain. “Bo! Stop please!” You scream. He lifts you up with ease just to hit you across the face and push you down harshly. As you fall you hit your head on the table near by immediately passing out. “Get the fuck up y/n. I’m not playing into your helpless victim act.” Bo says harshly. Only, you don’t move. “I said get up.” He yells as loud as he can. Again, not a single movement or word from you. You were facing down. He bends over and rolls you over seeing a slight gash on your forehead bleeding pretty badly. His blood runs cold. “Y/n? Come on wake up baby.” He shakes you lightly. When you once again don’t move he starts to panic. Bo picks you up laying you down in the couch. Then running to the kitchen to kind the sewing kit. “Why did you make me do this y/n. Fuckin bitch. All you had to do was listen to me.” He says under his breath. Pulling out a needle and threading it he slowly starts to sew shut the gash. You slightly stir in your sleep. “There we go.” He coos softly. “Knew the bitch wasn’t that easy to kill.” Bo scoffs. Once he’s done sewing you up he pours alcohol over it. Sending a jolt of pain through your body, you whence and start to wake up. He taps your cheek softly. “Wake up.” He says as he stands up walking back to the kitchen putting away everything. By the time he comes back you’ve started to wake up. “B…Bo?” You question. “Yeah? I’m right here.” He sits on the couch lifting you up then laying your head in his lap. He had a beer in his hand. “My head..it really hurts.” You lift a hand to touch your forehead but he grabs it before you can. “I wouldn’t. You don’t want it to get infected.” Bo scoffs. “That’s what happens when you don’t listen to me. Got it? Thought you knew this by now.” He sips his beer. Tears swell up in your eyes. “I’m sorry I just wanted to ride with Lester.” You cry softly. His gaze softens. “You need to ask me before you do some shit like that baby. Look I was worried about you that’s all. So don’t ever think of pulling some shit like that again or I’ll beat the ever loving fuck outta you and you’ll sleep chained up in the basement. Got it?” He looked down at you. “Yes Bo.” You say tiredly. You guys stay silent for a moment before he sighs. “You really fuckin scared me. Thought you were…I don’t know, fuckin dead. You probably have a concussion or sum shit like that.” He sips his beer. “Come here.” Bo opens his arms so you can sit on his lap. You do so. Leaning your head on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around you. Kissing the top of your head softly. “You’ll be okay.” He whispers.

Vincent saw you talking to one of the new victims of Ambrose. Only, you were a little too kind in his opinion. Laughing at his jokes, keeping eye contact. He didn’t like it at all. So when he caught the poor guy he made sure his death was slow and painful. Vincent avoided you for the rest of the day. Ignoring you when you tired to talk to him. He didn’t even come up for dinner with you and Bo. You didn’t fully understand why he was so mad at you. So you brought him a plate of food down to his workshop. “Vincent” you call out softly. Not a sound. He doesn’t exactly speak much or really ever but he’ll make a sound to let you know he heard you. “Vincent please eat something.” You call out. He comes out of the corner he was sitting in. You sigh feeling better. “Here I made spaghetti and meatballs. You love this meal.” You smile softly. He makes a sound that almost sounds like a scoff. “What is the matter? You’ve been avoiding me all day? What did I do?” You cry out. He looks at the man he just brutally murdered in the chair getting wax sprayed all over his body. “Him? Oh my god. Because I laughed at his stupid jokes? I thought he was an absolute idiot that’s why I was laughing! You really think I could like someone like him? Grow the fuck up Vincent.” You turn to leave but he grabs your arm harshly. Looking at him with fear he tightness the grip. “Let go..right now Vincent let go.” You say with a shaky breath. He doesn’t let go. You try to pull away. It instantly angers him. Slapping you harshly across the face. Making you fall to the ground. “Vincent!” You cry out. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You scream. That makes it worse. Vincent kicks you with all his strength making you loose your breath. When he see you gasping for air he immediately regrets hitting you. He kneels down and holds you in his arms. You’re coughing and gagging. Vincent pats your back trying to do anything to help. Eventually you stop coughing and start to breath normally. You have blood dripping from your mouth from when he hit you harshly. He wipes it away and whines what you assume was his way of saying I’m sorry. You sit up and open your arms letting him fall into you. Running your fingers through his hair you tell him it’s okay and you aren’t mad at him.

#horror #horror fan #horror movie #horror movies #horror films #slasher x reader #slashers #bosinclairsgff #house of wax #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #vincent x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #Bo Sinclair fluff

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kaylopolis · 7 months ago

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Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter Three

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power…

Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

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Author note: Okay Hoteliers, this was my first attempt at some spice. I'm open to constructive criticism! I am a published author but spice is something I am new to and not confident in. Any suggestions are welcome :)

<3 Stay smutty.

Chapter Three - Care for a Drink?

Content warning: mentions of blood, mentions of abuse

You were late.

“Not me! I have to go home and study!" Sir Pentious’ voice echoed through the foyer as you stepped in, nearly missing the first few drops of acid rain.

You were at the Clocktower when the clouds rolled in and threatened to melt your skin off. Unclipping your Mary Jane’s, you took off down the street, doing your best to avoid the trash piling outside the Doomsday District. Out of breath and, with mere seconds to spare, you finally rolled up to the Hotel only to find that Charlie had started without you.

Well, you did say one and it was now twenty minutes past.

“Come on kid, it'll make you cool like me …the crackhead." Angel did not sound amused.

You rounded the corner to find Angel and Sir Pentious reading from scripts and dressed in… Costumes?

"The only cool thing here is to say no to drugs! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage!" Sir Pentious chimed.

You snorted into your hand at the sight of Sir Pentious in his sailor-like child costume, complete with large lollipop in hand.

“Hey, Hair clip,” Angel frowned, clearly irritated with his current situation.

You couldn’t blame him. If these were the exercises Charlie had in mind, you don’t know how long you would last either.

Then he eyed your feet and your dress. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“Huh! You made it!” Charlie jumped to her feet and slammed into you with a hug so powerful it knocked you backwards.

“Ouch!” You rolled back on your heels, pushing your blisters into the hardwood flooring.

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry! What’s wrong! I didn’t… I didn’t mean to hurt you. Did I hurt you?” Her eyes begin to fill with tears, her pupils growing big.

Before you had a chance to deny vehemently, Vaggie cut in. “I think it’s her feet, babe.”

She took a step back, giving everyone a view of your blistered toes. Your feet were normal - human shaped, that is - and although you had the same ashen complexion as Charlie, your limbs blackened at the ends, beginning at your elbows and knees. The dark fur hid the grime now encasing your toes, but not the blisters rubbed raw and bleeding red.

“Yeah, that doesn’t look so good, toots,” Angel frowned.

It had to be the heels. Rosie was right, you did need new shoes.

“It’s not that bad,” you waved them off, heading for the stools at the bar.

“Your wincing,” Charlie motioned to you. “She’s wincing.”

“Oh no! You are in pain,” Sir Pentious cried.

“Guys, seriously. I don’t… Ah!” Angel scooped you up into his arms, carrying you to the stairs.

You tried to protest but he interrupted you. “I got a first aid kit in my room. It’s not a big deal.” His voice was stern, his jaw set. You took this not as a rescue for yourself but a rescue for him. He needed an excuse to get away.

“Wait! Wait!” Nifty sprinted around, taking a photo of the two of you before heading back for the couch.

“What the fuck was that?” You asked Angel.

“Charlie put Nifty in charge of the Hotel’s Sinstagram,” the spider demon rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at it. It’s a clusterfuck of a whole lot of nothin’. Mostly bugs and shit she’s found around the joint.”

“Great,” you mumbled, letting the spider demon whisk you away.

____________________________________________

“I seriously don’t know how you walk in shoes like that every day!” You motioned to his ridiculously high heeled boots.

“Practice, toots. You don’t get as good as me by lyin’ on your back… Wait.”

You laughed as you pulled your other sock on, careful not to ruin the bandages Angel oh-so delicately wrapped around your feet. For a Porn Star he sure knew his first aide. You knew it was because of Val, of course, but he didn’t know that you knew…

Never in your years of working have you ever thought about the victim. At least not with sympathy. You enjoyed the chaos, you enjoyed the killing, you enjoyed the fear. Now, something in your chest was twisting itself at the thought of Val placing his hands on Angel.

Angel was such a soft and adorable person, you couldn't fathom Val hurting…

Stop!

You flinched, covering up the action with a cough. You got to your feet, testing their durability. “You, uh, wanna head back down?”

His smile faded. “Nah, I’m gonna lay low for a bit.” Turning to the pig, he collected him in his arms, side glancing the pink phone laying on the bed. “I’m sure Charlie is just dyin’ to dress you up next.”

You paused. “Okay.” That thing in your chest twisted again, rooting you in place before the door.

You sighed.

Fuck.

“I have to change before I head to the bar, but I have some lemon sweets in my room that I know Fat Nuggets would love if you wanna join me.” You ran your hand down the pig’s snout, earning a squeal from the little ball of squish.

You could tell he was debating it by the look on his face, but wasn’t convinced.

“And chocolate,” you sang.

That caught his attention.

“Alright,” you helped him off the bed. “But only a piece, Fat Nuggets is watching his figure.”

You laughed as you headed for the room next to his humble abode, pulling the door wide and gesturing to the couch for him to take a seat.

“Wow, nice place ya’ got here,” he let the pig loose to sniff about the room.

It was. Your room was almost double the size of Angel’s and included a small sitting area. Wonder why he got the short end of the stick?

Then you wondered who else might have seen your room… perhaps without you knowing? You set a mental reminder to place some runes later - keep Alastor and his shadow out. Not that you had anything alarming in here. All the important stuff was kept in your personal Void.

You grabbed the leftovers from the club you got stuck with and moved them to the coffee table. Grabbing a lemon square, you let Fat Nuggets crawl onto your lap as you sat cross-legged on the ground. The small creature squirmed in your lap till you finally handed him the sweet.

Angel helped himself to your pile of chocolates - you hated chocolate, but didn’t want them to go to waste. Thankfully, he left his phone in his room.

“You know,” you started, unsure of where you were going with this. “I’m new here, but sometimes new people observe things others might not notice - a third party perspective if you will.”

“A-ha,” he eyes you suspiciously.

“Sometimes they notice things others may be trying to hide…” You were hoping he would get the point and pick up where you were leading him.

“What are you tryin’ to say, Hair clip?” He ignores the chocolates completely, turning to you with irritation sprawled across his face.

“Ugh,” you huff. “I’m sorry I’m not good at this stuff - feelings and trying to comfort others.” You clear your throat, resisting the urge to rub the back of your neck. “It seems like something is wrong and I was wondering if you wanted to talk about it?” You avoided eye contact, this was uncomfortable enough.

“I’m fine,” he shot you down, tossing a chocolate into the air and catching it in his mouth.

“I know what it’s like to come from a place of… neglect.” You continue anyway. “To be trapped in a situation you cannot control. To be a victim with no power, forced to do things you didn’t wanna do…” Your voice cracked. When had you started tearing up? “And when you try to speak up, to refuse to do something that would harm others…”

“Hey, hey,” Angel was on his knees before you, cupping your cheeks, soothing you with shushes. He smiled when you finally looked up at him.

“You’re gonna ruin all your beautiful makeup, Hair clip.”

You giggled into his hands, your heart warming just a bit.

God, what was it about this Hotel that made you so emotional?

“Look,” Angel huffed. “My boss has just been gettin’ on my nerves lately. He doesn’t like that I moved out. He’s pissed actually. Been blowing up my phone for days, but it’s nothing that I can’t handle.” He rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I’m managing, I just need some time to work through some things ‘tis all. Alright, toots?”

You knew it wasn’t alright. You’ve heard some pretty infamous stories of the moth demon - yet another reason you have steered clear of the Vees - but Angel was at a point that if you kept prodding, he’d most likely just flip you off and disappear for the rest of the day. Pushing him would be a step back and you needed to take a step forward.

“Okay,” you pouted, wiping your face with your sleeves. God this dress needed to be thrown away.

“Now let’s get changed because I need a drink!” He pulls you to your feet before heading for your clothes. Pulling open your closet door he was shocked to find it empty. Your drawers were no better.

“Seriously?” He waved to the black abyss.

“I’ve been low on cash lately… but I just got paid and new clothes are on the way.”

He held up a pair of black slacks. “Please tell me they’re from this century?”

You ripped the pants from his hands. “I happen to like my clothes, okay.”

“Okay, grandma,” he shrugs. “One of these days, you gotta let me take you shopping. Your closet is an insult to closets.”

“Ha, ha very funny.” You grab a blouse and head for the bathroom.

“Do you even own a pair of sweatpants?” He asks through the door.

“I have silk pajama bottoms?”

He pauses. “Okay, actually impressed by that, but I think I’ve made my point.”

“Whatever,” you emerge from the bathroom, shoving the gray blouse into your pants, giving you that hourglass figure.

Actually, now that you had Angel’s attention maybe he could help with some of your wardrobe problems. Starting with your feet.

“Do you know where I can get a new set of heels?”

————————————————————————

“Hey, whiskers! Pour me something strong, daddy needs a drink!” Angel took the stool next to you.

Husk huffed, rolling his eyes, the bar cat grabbed a random bottle and just started pouring. “Feeling better?” He asked you.

You nodded, twirling in circles on the barstool. You dangled your toes as you spun, smiling at the fact that your feet didn’t touch the ground.

That was probably the one thing you got from Dad you didn’t mind - your height. You and your brothers were short as fuck, but mightier than you looked: fierce beings in tiny packages. Yet, despite the roughhousing between siblings, you were always obedient - Dad wouldn’t have it any other way.

As for Mom? Well, you didn’t have one. You and your siblings never did. You didn’t know the story but then again you never asked. It didn’t seem like something you asked your father. He wasn’t the type to… share certain things with you. He wasn’t closed off, he just didn’t treat you like kids. Dad treated you like soldiers. He commanded and you obeyed.

And at one point in time you were okay with it. Dad said jump, you said how high? Now… After everything that happened on Earth, you promised yourself you’d never let anyone tell you what to do again.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon behind that bar of yours would you? It’s my favorite.” You beamed.

“Wine?” Angel scoffs. “Come on toots, I thought you were a lot harder than that.” The spider demon downed half his drink before Husk had even finished pouring it.

“Watch it!” Husk snaps.

“I’m not a hard liquor kinda gal,” you shrugged, watching Husk wipe up the spilled alcohol. “I like to sip and enjoy.”

“Fuck that,” Angel scoffed, examining the new stain on his shirt. “Damn, this is my favorite top.” He grumbled, getting to his feet. “I’ll be back. I gotta spray it before it sets.” The spider demon made his way back upstairs.

Husk waited till Angel was gone before he made your drink next. A glass of red wine in a metal red wine glass - how on the nose. Maybe your lipstick smear won't look as gross.

“I thought I’d give you a heads up, the Princess and her girlfriend went out shopping this morning and got ya’ a little something. Syrups and flavoring for the coffee machine. She’s gonna surprise you at breakfast. Just thought I’d let ya know. You don’t seem the kind who enjoys surprises,” he finishes pouring your glass.

You sniffed before you tasted, letting the smell of currants and oak swim in your nostrils. It was smokier than you expected, but the tannins made your taste buds sing.

God, you missed the wine from before Hell, before your entire world flipped on end…

“Thanks, Husk.”

He leans back against the counter behind the bar, a look of hesitancy on his face that said he wasn’t done talking yet. You sensed giving you a heads up about breakfast tomorrow wasn’t the reason why he asked to speak with you.

“What?” You asked, after his silent gaze became uncomfortable.

“Look. No one gives a shit what you did before you got down here. You’re down here, same as the rest of us, but you gotta watch what you say in… mixed company.”

“What does that mean?” You scrunched your nose in confusion.

“This mornin’, at breakfast.”

He was referring to your small nugget of honesty at the table - your slip of suggested murderer status topside. He was referring to Alastor.

Rosie told you the stories - things only she knew about the Radio Demon. He was a serial killer turned cannibal during his days amongst the living - wasn’t caught either. He died in some sort of hunting accident - explains the deer form. After his death, he rose to power faster than anyone had ever seen, took down some big important Overlords too, projecting their screams over his radio broadcasts.

God, what a sight that would have been.

He showed up out the blue a few weeks ago after disappearing for seven years. Uprooted Husk and Nifty and planted them at the Hotel - he owned their souls, they had to obey.

He had business with the Princess, but no one knew what - mere rumors, but nothing good. Whatever it was, you needed to find out.

If his plans got in the way of yours, you were going to need to do something. You didn’t know what it was you were going to do, but eliminating him wasn’t going to be simple.

“So?” You took a longer sip, needing the alcohol for yet another emotional conversation.

“You’re not stupid kid.” He crosses his arms over his chest, ignoring the glass of whiskey before him. That’s how you knew he was serious.

“Look,” you took the stem of the metal cup between your first two fingers and twirled it about. The glass danced on the edge of its base, twirling like a ballerina on a stage. Husk watched the movement, eyeing the liquid as it spun. “This place is about redemption, correct? So, shouldn’t I be a little honest about my sins, that way I can atone for what I’ve done?”

His eyes were glued to the glass as he responded, “There’s a difference between honesty and painting a target on your back.”

“You mean painting a target on my back in front of him,” you corrected.

He finally met your eyeline, “He’s dangerous, kid…”

You hold up a hand, interrupting him, “You can save your lecture, Husk. I already got it from Rosie this morning.”

His eyes grow a few sizes. “Rosie? The Overlord?”

“No, Rosie the tailor. It seems the Radio Demon and I have similar tastes in fashion.” Another sip - no, a gulp. The glass was practically empty already. You continued your twirl.

So much for slowly enjoying it…

Husk drained his glass, “I’m not gonna bullshit you, kid.” He pours himself another. “He asked me to keep an eye on you.”

You freeze, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end. “What?” You bite.

“I suspect it’s not because he’s concerned for your well-being, either.” The cat demon adds.

So, Alastor the Overlord had his suspicions - going not only to Rosie but Husk as well. It appears poking and prodding during his battle with Sir Pentious was enough to raise his alarms. You were going to have to be very careful from here on out. Alastor was a ticking time bomb without a timer and you were going to have to do something to prevent him from exploding.

Perhaps you should do something to throw him off. Make yourself appear weaker than he expects. Get into a fight which you lose on purpose to a demon far weaker than yourself. Would that be enough or would he know Husk had warned you? Would he expect you to do something to completely negate his suspicions only to make him look at you even more closely?

Fuck - you didn’t know what to do.

“So, he didn’t say why,” you finished the glass, gritting your teeth in frustration.

Husk laughs. “He doesn’t explain anything to me and he ain’t about to start.”

Great, so Rosie was going to be your only insight into the red demon.

Unless…

Unless, you befriended him yourself. Now that would really throw him for a loop.

“Hey, where did you learn to do that with the glass…?” Husk begins to ask but is interrupted.

“Get your aggressively average body OFF OF ME!” Sir Pentious’ scream echoes throughout the foyer.

You and Husk fly to the library to find Angel wrestling the snake demon to the ground. Charlie and Vaggie followed soon after.

“What’s going on?” Charlie asks, concern flitting between the two demons.

“This little bitch is a traitor!” Angel moves aside a pile of books to reveal a video camera.

Vox.

Sir Pentious flies into a panic, summoning the media demon on his watch, demanding evacuation.

Pathetic honestly. You’re not sure you would have responded any better to the snake demon than Vox had. Not that you wanted to agree on anything with the leader of the Vees, you detested the sore excuse for an Overlord and wanted nothing to do with him.

Yes, you fixed his bowtie earlier today, but he looked so… pathetic standing in that alleyway. It actually kind of irritated you now that you think of it. A demon of that caliber throwing tantrums in a random back alley? Come on man, get yourself together.

Vaggie pulls out her spear, prepared to skewer the snake, before Charlie interrupts. “It starts with sorry…”

Ah, fucking kill me. Little Ms. Bleeding Heart everyone.

As you watched the events unfold, you felt static zip down your spine. Almost as if you were being watched.

You spun and searched the shadows but there was no one there. Wait, no one you could see. Rosie told you of Alastor’s shadow, how it could hide him in darkness, how it could detach from his form and do his bidding elsewhere. You were going to have to take that into account when sneaking out at night - double check every shadow and second guess every dark corner.

“Good first day! Let’s get some rest.” Charlie guided him back to his room.

You waited until the hallways were empty before taking a step towards the abandoned watch.

“Would you like to do the honors or shall I?” You ask the darkness.

There’s a pop of static before the Overlord melts from the floor, scooping up the electronic device. He crushes it beneath his fingers in a burst of electricity. You watch as Vox’s image blurs before dying.

Alastor drops the plastic and metal to the floor before addressing you. “You knew I was there,” he purrs, his radio a silent static, his back to you.

“Saw the shadows move,” you answer coolly. Technically a lie, but you weren’t about to tell him that you could feel his presence before he entered a room, that you could feel his shadow follow you.

Alastor spun, his eyes narrowing on your form, kicking the butterflies in your stomach into a flurry. God, his eyes. They glowed red, like crystals in a fire. A fire that ignited something foreign within you.

The double doors behind you slammed shut causing you to jump.

And then they locked.

You were alone, alone, and trapped with the Radio Demon and one of Hell’s finest Overlords.

He takes a step towards you, his microphone slipping into the Void as his eyes, half-lidded, slowly slide over your form. The gesture, so simple, had you frozen in place where you stood. His pupils constricted, his smile curling, you watched as Alastor transformed into the predator he was born to be. Like a prey before its kill, he honed in on you, identifying you as prey.

You pull your hands behind your back, threading your fingers so he doesn’t see them shake so he can’t see just how much power his gaze alone had over you.

He takes another step, still ten feet away yet so, so close.

You take an imperceptibly small step back.

Why are you so nervous right now? It’s just the Radio Demon. This man is not a threat. He’s just a Human Sinner.

He takes another.

Shit.

His smile deepens, sensing the hesitation, the worry, the anxiety building in your chest.

Was it getting harder to breathe in here?

You force your lips into a thin line, force your body to stand ramrod straight. You will not back down. Overlord or not, you will not let him win this game of intimidation. You were a fucking god down here in Hell. The Radio Demon didn’t know it, couldn’t know it, your entire plan rode on him never knowing it, so why was every instinct in your body screaming at you to not back down? To not play the powerless victim you were supposed to be?

Alastor thought you a mouse and he a cat, but he was oh-so wrong. You were a fucking lion. You were an…

In one breath the Radio Demon closes the distance, stopping a foot away from you, your toes barely brushing his shoes. The demon was close enough that you could smell the rye on his breath; the liquor washed over you and made your toes curl. Of course, he drank something so sophisticated. Not vodka; not rum; but a dark liquor that burned on the way down. Like the fire in your veins.

He wasn’t drunk, perhaps just a nightcap? He didn’t seem like the type who ever got drunk. Getting drunk would leave one vulnerable and would leave one weak. Alastor would never allow that. He cared too much for his appearance.

You go very very still as he reaches a hand out to you, his eyes suddenly captivated with your cheek. The tip of his claw tickles your skin, drawing a gasp from your lips, sucking the breath from your lungs and kicking your heart into a beat so loud you couldn’t hear anything else but its pounding in your ears.

Crimson fire ignites behind Alastor’s eyes, his smile curling at the tips as his hand dances to a stray strand of hair. Shivers explode down your spine as he tucks it behind your ear, pausing to appreciate your neck. His eyes hone in on your jugular, almost as if he could see the blood rushing through your veins, almost as if he could taste it.

The demon licks his lips drawing your eyes to his perfectly shaped mouth, to the sharp teeth behind it. What would it feel like to have those razor-sharp canines sink into your flesh? To allow Alastor a taste of the blood pumping through your veins?

A moment of clarity suddenly hit you at the sudden realization of just how much control you had lost. To allow Alastor to taste you? What were you doing?

Swat his hand away. Bite his head off. Stab him in the gut. Eviscerate him where he stands. Kill...

The demon pulls you away from your thoughts as his finger moves south to your collarbone, eliciting a blush across your cheeks and igniting a warmth in your belly that traveled down, pooling between your legs.

There it was again, that scent wafting through the room. The same scent you smelled off of Vox in the alley. You had never smelled something so sweet from a demon before - like warm vanilla heating on a stove. Yet now, it was coming from you.

Something at the periphery of your power shifts. Like a second presence has joined yours, you try to think but your mind grows numb as Alastor’s dances across your collarbone. Delicately, so as not to draw blood, he follows it to the dip at the base of your neck. You swallow dryly and watch as Alastor’s eyes follow your throat’s bob.

The demon pauses, a question swimming behind his eyes before he slowly - oh-so painfully slowly - wraps his hand around your throat.

God-be-damned, you have never had another creature’s hand at your throat, and God-be-damned if you didn’t enjoy it.

The demon squeezed, not enough to cut off your air supply, but just enough to send your mind spinning. A small moan escapes your lips. Alastor’s eyes shot to yours, a look of surprise filled them before they darkened. His smile shifted into that of a lopsided grin, a smirk of satisfaction.

And then you feel it.

You shove Alastor away from you, your mind sobering at the realization of what the Radio Demon was trying to do.

You both pause for a moment, trying to catch your breath, before the demon takes a bow. “Goodnight, Ms. Thestral.” The shadows swallow him whole.

You wait until you can't feel his presence anymore before you bang your head against the wall and scream. “Fuck!”

It was all a big FUCKING distraction! He was prodding you to read your soul - to read your power. Just like you had tried to do that day he battled Sir Pentious. And you had caught him. He didn’t get far, but your reaction confirmed everything for him.

He knew you had power.

He knew you were a threat.

And he knew you wouldn’t back down easily.

You were fucked.

Link to Chapter Four

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor smut #alastor #radio demon #alastor the radio demon #hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbinhotel #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor x you #x reader #alastor shadow #alastor radio demon

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runninriot · 5 months ago

Text

Love Me Til It Hurts

written for @steddiesongfics

Becoming a monster had always sounded kind of… intriguing.

The reality of it, however, sucked big time.

And maybe that’s just due to the circumstances of how it happened. Because nearly being eaten alive by demon bats in a place that resembles more hell than Hawkins (or- now that he thinks about it, maybe it just shows Hawkins’s true face because his hometown kind of always had been hell) and the fact that it fucking hurt to be transformed into the human-monster-abnormality that he is now.

So, yeah. Becoming a monster had been a literal nightmare.

Being one, on the other hand, is even crazier than he’d ever imagined it would be.

Sure, it was scary at first, to suddenly see the world in a different light. Literally. And to suddenly be able to hear sounds he’d never heard before. To smell and taste flavours he never even knew existed. But he soon learned to accept it, made peace with his new self and all the traits that come with it.

Being a monster is kind of fun, to be honest, and to feel superior in a way, to be stronger, taller, more powerful than he could ever have dreamed of being is just a bonus. A little cherry on top. Something that keeps him sane whenever the memories of their final fight against Vecna replay in his mind.

Because now, he’s able to protect his friends. To watch out for them. To make sure they’re safe.

And giving up part of his humanity for that is a prize he’d be willing to pay all over again.

That and the fact that being this new, better version of himself changed his life in ways he never thought would be possible.

He’s been living in the Harrington home ever since they brought him back, with Steve helping him discover and... explore all the changes he’s been going through.

And that had been a wild ride from the start.

Nothing and no one could’ve prepared Eddie for finding out just how much of a freak Steve Harrington would turn out to be.

Because he is. Oh God, he is. Maybe the biggest freak of them all.

Freaky in a way Eddie still has a hard time believing is not just some side effect from being bitten by the same gnarly creatures, or maybe from swallowing that bat’s blood when he ripped it apart with his teeth, looking all rough and grimy and too fucking sexy, bleeding and bare chested and-

Where was he?

Oh, yeah.

Whatever it is, however Eddie got so lucky – he cherishes every moment of it. Because ever since coming back wrong, everything in his life suddenly went right.

🩸🖤🩸

When Steve offered his blood to Eddie for the first time, he nearly lost it because- shit, that was better than any trip. No drug could ever compare to the effect Steve’s blood had on him, finally scratching that itch that had been driving him mad ever since his transformation.

But it didn’t stop there, no. What Eddie initially thought was just one of the endless self-sacrificing acts Steve is known for, turned out to be so much more. Because somehow, Steve found a liking in Eddie’s new form.

It took Eddie a while to figure it out. To understand why Steve suddenly always came so close. Always in his periphery at least, always touching when they were sitting next to each other. Always right there, waiting for Eddie’s next blood rush, too quick to offer his wrist or neck for Eddie to sink his teeth in.

Look, call him stupid or whatever, but how the hell could Eddie have known that fangs and wings would do it for Steve?

And he should have been offended, really, when Steve finally confessed. Because-

Honestly, Steve? You’re telling me I had to literally die for you to finally notice me?

But let’s be real. Eddie would gladly let himself be turned into a fucking worm if it meant he could have Steve in return.

Yeah, that man’s definitely worth dying for.

If anyone asked him, he’d deny it but Eddie had a crush on Steve long before the world went to shit. But never – not even in his wildest dreams – did he dare to fantasize about a future where he’d know what Steve looks like underneath his stupid polos and illegally tight jeans.

And now he does.

Knows all the parts of him, even the hidden ones. Because Steve is a goddamn monster lover, in every sense of the word.

🩸🖤🩸

The first time Eddie realised Steve’s quiet whimpers were more than just a response to the pain of having the skin of his neck pierced by razor-sharp teeth, was a true revelation. He still remembers how embarrassed Steve had been when Eddie noticed the dark patch at the front of his sweats. He was still visibly half hard and Eddie – lost in the daze of drinking his blood – couldn’t stop staring.

He tried to apologise, tried to tell Steve that it was okay, that is was probably just his body’s reaction to being drained because that shit’s not normal, is it? But Steve just shook his head, took Eddie’s large, clawed hand and placed it right above the wet spot in the front of his pants.

Eddie nearly choked on his own tongue, overcome with a desire to take and claim, to touch Steve where his blood was pulsing hot and hard beneath the damp fabric.

He needed Steve in ways that should’ve scared them both but- did he mention that Steve’s a freak?

Because he didn’t even wait for permission, didn’t stop one second to consider how dangerous this was, or could’ve been, when he crawled into Eddie’s lap like a love-sick dog, whining and whimpering so sweetly against Eddie’s lips as he kissed him, deep and unafraid, uncaring of the bittersweet iron they could both taste when he pricked his greedy tongue on Eddie’s fangs.

It was fucked-up and dirty and so fucking frightening but Eddie couldn’t resist, couldn’t reject the offer when Steve was so ready to give him more than he ever dreamed of.

And it remains a dream, a wonderful fantasy each time it happens. Each time Steve gets this look in his eyes, full of want, full of unhinged desire to be taken apart. To be claimed by his monster, to be fucked and kissed and loved- God, Eddie loves him so much.

He worships him like a king – Eddie’s inferior to no one but Steve – and what he gets in return is more than just a taste of what his new form needs to thrive.

When his humanity takes a backseat while his monster self takes over, and the rioting rush of primal desire is clouding his senses, Steve’s touch is the only thing keeping him grounded. And it’s so much more than just sex. More than just two creatures giving in to their godless impulses to take and be taken.

It’s a beautiful mess very time Eddie leaves a trail of dark red love confessions on Steve’s skin just to kiss them better. And it feels like rebirth every time Steve comes with Eddie’s name on his lips, every time he falls to pieces in Eddie’s arms.

Every time they share each other’s blood and cum and spit, every time they crash and fall, sweat-drenched and breathless, it’s like Eddie is being transformed all over again, bathed in Steve’s light, graced by his lover’s mercy – really letting himself become the monster he is because his boyfriend likes him like that.

His boyfriend Steve, the freak. The one reason for Eddie’s stone-cold heart to keep beating.

Steve Harrington, the monster lover. His beautiful, insatiable boy, always so greedy for more.

“I love you, Steve,” Eddie whispers as he lets his hand glide over naked, burning skin. Careful this time, not to break any more of it.

“Love me, Eddie. Love me ‘til it hurts.”

Oh. But how could he not, when Steve demands it like that?

He’ll never get enough of it.

Because, yeah, being a monster is fun. But being Steve’s monster is everything.

#steddiesongfics #steddiesongficsaugust #writing prompt #steddie #steddie fic #Monster!Eddie Munson #Monster Lover!Steve Harrington

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sserpente · 1 year ago

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What makes a Loki a Loki?

Synopsis: Every time the TVA annihilates a timeline in order to “fix” the universe, Variants get left behind. Variants who then get taken to the TVA to be either brainwashed or pruned, deleted from existence. But not you. Not those who fight back. As part of a rebellion against the ruthless time police, you live a life on the run, a life as a nomad, dedicating yourselves to one goal: To destroy the TVA just like it intends to destroy you. Nothing could have prepared you for the God of Mischief himself to interfere with those plans. So what happens when he finds out that in order to protect yourself, you pretended to be a Loki yourself?

A/N: *tiptoes in quietly, gently puts the oneshot on your dashboard, tiptoes out again* This should have been posted weeks ago. I’m so sorry. I was in a writing slump and then I neglected it altogether because I was playing Baldur’s Gate 3 literally non-stop. Also threw in a request from @jazziefeybaby as it fit really well here, you’ll see! ;) SO, WHO IS EXCITED FOR SEASON 2 BECAUSE I AM!

Words: 4421 Warnings: semi-public smut

You skittered around the corner into a narrow alley. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Barbed wire, right in front of you. You didn’t slow down and took a deep breath instead. As soon as you were close enough, you jumped, pushing yourself off the brick wall with one foot to grab the very top of the wire. Pain rippled through your palm, a sticky wetness almost making you lose your grip but you pushed through and pulled yourself up.

With a lot more grace than you would have expected from yourself, you landed and kept on running. The man who was chasing you looked familiar but, being more concerned with your survival, you hadn’t taken the luxury of studying his face. He seemed more skilled, faster than the others.

You’d still outrun him. You knew these streets well enough to find your way about blindly. And that was exactly the reason why you came to a halt with a start, surprised and shocked to find the man chasing you appear right in front of you. Your eyes widened. For just a split second, you allowed yourself to take in his features.

Long black hair, a sharp jawline and cheekbones to die for, thin lips, and piercing blue eyes… there was no doubt. You had seen this man before. But it couldn’t be…

You turned on your heel, ready to bolt in the opposite direction when you saw the strange man charge toward you yet again. An illusion. The man who had appeared in front of you was an illusion…

“Nice try, you fucker…” you muttered. You turned yet again, running off. It wasn’t until you saw the illusion flicker and solidify that you realised your mistake. A groan escaped your lips when you collided with a hard chest, all air knocked from your body. The recoil threw you off balance and you tumbled to the hard asphalt, hurting your already bleeding palms further. They were burning like hell, adding to your anger. He had teleported. That fucker had teleported.

You glared at the questionable TVA agent, ripping off the black mask covering your face from the nose down. He had you. For now, it was game over. “Who the hell are you?”

The stranger’s lips parted, a frown growing on his face. He was about to speak up when you were joined by another TVA agent with grey hair and a moustache. He slowed down, out of breath entirely.

“Well done, Loki.” Loki. “T-take her,” he continued then, waving at the Minutemen in their silly armour. You growled when they grabbed you by the collar and pulled you back on your feet, fastening one of those ridiculous time displacement collars around you.

They had to drag you through the time door they opened all the while Loki kept on watching you in silence… and, if you were not mistaken, fascination.

“Take her to the interrogation rooms, I’ll be right with you,” the TVA agent with the moustache announced. Loki led the way and the Minutemen holding on to your arms to keep you in check retreated. You would have called them fools if you hadn’t witnessed a live demonstration of Loki’s powers only a moment ago. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

“Sit,” he said upon entering the room, pointing to a table with three chairs—one on one side, the other two on the opposite side. You rolled your eyes. The only reason you did as you were told, so you told yourself, was because your feet were tired from all the running, and thus made a point of it by crossing your arms before your chest.

“If you think I’m going to tell you anything at all, you’re a fool.”

Loki scoffed. “We’ll see about that,” he said, narrowing his blue eyes at you. “Let’s start with something easy. What’s your name? You already know mine by now. I am Loki, of Asgard.”

It was truly one of him then. You would have laughed out loud if it wasn’t for your fucked-up situation. So you told him your name coldly. A nickname, no last name. He didn’t deserve that information yet.

“Look, the more you resist, the harder you are going to make this for yourself. I know from personal experience. They can be quite brutal.”

“Oh, I know. That’s why we’ve been running from them. And yet…” You smiled at him mockingly. “Here you are, right among them, wearing a TVA uniform.”

“Desperate circumstance,” was all he replied. “It’s complicated.”

It was on you to scoff this time.

“I understand that your group has been wanted by the TVA for a while now. Why? Who are you? Why are they hunting you down?” He stared at you for a few moments. It was like a game at this point. Who would blink first?

“Shit, you really don’t know, do you? They didn’t tell you a thing. Shouldn’t surprise me.”

Loki leaned back. “Tell me.”

“You’re serious,” you spat. “They recruited you to chase us and you don’t even know of the crimes we’ve allegedly committed?”

The God of Mischief remained silent. You had him—for now.

“So? What is a Loki Variant doing working with the TVA of all horrible corporations then? What desperate circumstances prompted you to team up with the enemy?”

“Mobius is not an enemy.”

You shrugged. “He is to me.”

The God of Mischief appeared to think about it for a moment. It was like he was contemplating whether you were telling the truth. Just before you could offer him another snarky remark, however, the TVA agent in question entered the room, breaking the intense eye contact between the two of you for just a fraction of a second.

He sat down as if this was a casual business meeting, fixing his tie in the process. “Any luck yet?”

“Define luck,” Loki said without taking his eyes off of you.

“Well… Loki has probably told you by now but I’m Agent Mobius. And listen, let me make one thing clear. You don’t wanna get on Loki’s bad side.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“Maybe. It could be. Or you could just tell us what you know.”

“And then die anyway? Or turn into a brainless TVA agent like you? No. I’d rather keep my dignity and my pride before I kick the bucket.”

Mobius sighed. “Who is your leader?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“How many of you are there?”

“More than one, clearly.”

You smirked all the while Loki kept glaring at you as if he was trying to figure you out. Which he probably was.

“You’re not going to leave this place either way. But if you cooperate now, then I can make sure to make this more comfortable for you, alright?”

“What? So you won’t wipe my memory, perhaps? Hire me like a puppet? Like him?” You nodded at Loki with your chin. “I’d rather die a slow and painful death.”

Much to your surprise though, Mobius smirked with a start. “Does she remind you of someone?”

Loki did not take his eyes off of you for a second. “Yes. Indeed she does.”

“You don’t think she could be…”

“One of me? Doubtfully. She has no powers or if she does, she was very good at hiding them.”

You frowned, overwhelmed by sudden hot flush. There was no way he could guess that… “Powers? What are you on about?”

“Who are they, exactly? This group she belongs to,” Loki asked, ignoring you entirely.

“We call them time breakers. Rebels whose only purpose is to kill—us.”

You scoffed. “Wow, you really believe that, don’t you?”

“Oh, were you not trying to kill me back there?”

“I was. And I would try again. But not for the whitewashed reason you believe I would.”

Mobius sighed. “We understand that there is a small group of you here in Manhattan. Why don’t you tell us where your friends are? We could… help.”

“No,” you said dryly, crossing your arms before your chest again.

Mobius sighed once more. “Okay, you know what, let’s continue this tomorrow. See if you’re more approachable after a good night’s sleep. Then you can get patched up too,” he said, pointing at your injured hands.

“Hardly. Hope is a tedious thing.”

The TVA agent ignored your comment. “Thanks for your help today, Loki. Will you take her to the cells? Just in case she tries something.”

You rolled your eyes and stood, too proud to be dragged about again. Right before you could make your way to the door, however, Loki grabbed your arm. “There is something else.”

“What?”

“You looked at me like you recognised me.”

“I did not,” you said quickly. “Clearly I did not.”

You could only hope that the God of Lies himself would fall for your words, for he could not know under any circumstances that this man, the infamous leader of the time breakers… was a Loki too.

Loki led you to the cells without a word. One of the Minutemen guarding it opened one of them for you to step in, seemingly used to agents bringing in new prisoners without asking questions. But unlike what you expected, Loki entered the cell with you.

“Comfy,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “But I actually have a bed. Perhaps I’ll like it here after all.”

“We’re alone now. You recognised me. Don’t deny it.” Damn it.

You rolled your eyes, anxiety rippling through you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes. You do.”

You scoffed. “Do you wanna know why they’re really hunting us, Loki?”

He waited for you to continue. “It’s because they fucked up. You know how they destroy entire timelines, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, some of us didn’t take kindly to being… annihilated, to be wiped from existence. One of us… one of us was the first, he got away and he came for others, taking them under his wing and building an army with but one goal—to bring down everything the TVA stands for. I’m what they call a Variant, Loki. I’m just trying to survive. And if that means that I have to destroy those who aim to destroy me, I will. You of all people should know.”

“Me?”

You scoffed once more. “You’re a Variant too, aren’t you? It’s as clear as daylight.” You knew he was, so the question was a rhetorical one. He looked just like him, only this Loki… this Loki right before you, he seemed… softer. Gentler. He was just as handsome of course and yet… there was something about him that attracted you to the point it scared you.

“So there you have it. You captured me for a death sentence—but you already know that. They’re never gonna let me go. According to them, I shouldn’t exist. And I’d rather live a life on the run rather than become a mindless soldier like the others. Like you,” you spat. You’d attempted to despise him in the interrogation room. You just… couldn’t.

Loki swallowed. He studied you quietly for a moment and sat down on the edge of the small desk in the cell.

“I’m just like you,” you repeated. “You should be joining me, us, instead of working with them.”

“You don’t know Mobius like I know him. He is not a bad person.”

“Oh yeah?”

“No. He is not what you think he is.” His blue eyes darkened, yours widening when he stepped closer to you.

“Don’t you think we both know how corrupt the TVA is? I understand. I understand your pain and I understand your anger. You don’t have a home. Mobius and I, we can give you one. Not here at the TVA, not as an agent. But in order for us to do that, you have to tell us what you know. Some Variants, they are… dangerous. That Variant who leads you...”

You gnashed your teeth, meeting his piercing gaze. Perhaps that was your mistake. You swallowed.

Loki’s face fell. “He’s a Loki…”

“What?”

“He’s a Loki, is he not?”

You tightened your jaw, remaining silent.

“So that is why you recognised me.”

Oh, fuck it. “Well, unlike you, he truly is a saviour, Loki.”

You didn’t know what to expect from him after that. But certainly not that he would sigh, turn around… and leave the cell, leaving you behind pondering over what the hell had just happened.

He knew. Not just about you following another Loki but also… the effect that he had on you. Both of them. Mobius had kept his so-called promise. You were not going anywhere. Day in and out, they asked you more questions you refused to answer and even started taking you out on the field with them in the hopes you’d sooner or later provide useful information to them. You were on edge, constantly.

The more time you spent with him, the more Loki made you feel things you’d never thought possible. He might have figured out that he was not the first Variant you were dealing with—but he had still not yet found out how you had managed to survive that well.

It was an accomplishment you were rather proud of. The double deception had you reel with excitement and even superiority, for they were desperate for your secrets. Desperate. That’s what they truly were. Both Mobius, Loki, and the entire TVA were reaching for straws at this point. They needed all the help they could get—perhaps that was why you were still alive. Perhaps that was why they hadn’t turned you into a mindless agent. Or perhaps Loki had convinced them to keep you just the way you were.

You had seen the way he looked at you when he thought you didn’t notice. There was a silent admiration in his blue gaze whenever you caught him, along with an urge you hadn’t quite been able to place until you started spending more time together. It was desire. Carnal desire. And whatever connection there was between you, he was giving in to it.

It became a game all too soon. The subtle looks, the dancing around one another—wondering, preying on who would cave first. Sex was not off the table, you had realised that much. Neither of you needed to speak the word to agree that this was inevitably what your odd relationship would lead to. It was a circumstance Mobius had not failed to notice.

“I digress… is there something you want from me?” The man Mobius had managed to track down wasn’t quite part of your group. In fact, he’d tried to kill you before he had realised who you were, or rather… who you had pretended to be.

You kept in the background, quiet and observing, ensuring the slimy git wouldn’t catch a glimpse of your face. You didn’t even know his name.

“You’re hiding something,” Loki whispered with a start.

You flinched. His breath was a little too close for your liking. He enjoyed doing that, so you’d realised. Creeping up on you, catching you off guard like he was a predator and you were his prey.

“No shit?”

“I’m not talking about the Time Breakers. You know this man. Who is he?”

Frowning, you took a step back only to collide with a pillar. Damn it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Instead of responding, Loki nudged you forward—and right into view of the git as you lost your balance and tumbled a little.

“You? Shit, they’re with you? I’m… I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I apologise.”

“He’s afraid of you,” Loki stated with wonder in his voice.

You rolled your eyes. “What? Is that so unbelievable?”

“Actually, yes.”

“You don’t mess with a Loki,” the git responded for you.

You gnashed your teeth in response when Loki narrowed his eyes at him. Lucky for you, however, he appeared to think the git was referring to him rather than you.

“I’m sorry… a what?” His confused expression almost made you laugh but then again, the situation was rather sinister. “I‘m a Loki. I am Loki. Not her.”

Mobius clocked it first; and you were overcome with the overwhelming urge of wanting to wipe the shit-eating grin from his face fast.

“Ask her,” he said.

“Ask her what?”

“Ask her how she survived this long. Ask her why she has the respect of her leader.”

Loki raised his eyebrows. His blue gaze travelled over to you as if to silently pass on the question.

When you didn’t say anything, Mobius chuckled. “She’s pretending to be you, Loki. She’s pretending to be a Variant. That’s why Marcus here is so terrified.”

“Oh, Marcus? That’s what the slimy git is called?” Changing the topic did not work in your favour. Loki did not let it go.

“Thanks,” Marcus murmured.

Loki, on the other hand, remained unfazed. “You were pretending to be me?”

“Not you. One of you. A goddess of Mischief. It worked quite well for some time. It was his idea, actually.”

“So you were hiding this under my nose this entire time?” Loki smirked—certainly not the reaction you had expected from him. You’d assumed he’d lash out or feel deeply offended or perhaps both. Instead, you sensed pride.

“You’re taking this a lot calmer than I assumed you would.”

His smirk grew even wider—eerily so, almost. “I am flattered, darling.”

“You’re what now?”

“Well, I must say, it’s quite an impressive disguise. Tell me, did you wear something more flattering whenever you pretended to be me?”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Lokis have style, dear. Dressed like this I might have a hard time believing you.” Your heart skipped a beat when he winked. The way your body reacted pissed you off enough to growl.

“Are we done here? You got what you came for. The git doesn’t know anything else.”

“Wait! I know something. I know where her leader is currently hiding.” Marcus pointed at you.

“I can assure you, you do not,” you interrupted, crossing your arms before your chest.

“The docks, head to the docks! There’s a warehouse there, and it comes with a basement. There’s a hatch to the left of the south entrance. That’s where you’ll find him.”

You wished that Loki wasn’t as perceptive as he was when he noticed you stiffening—and perhaps, that was all both he and Mobius needed to know to confirm the git was telling the truth.

You stormed out before either of them could comment. You had to go back. You had to warn him. The Loki you were with now, you hated to admit that you trusted him. Hel, you even trusted Mobius now—but their cause? You didn’t trust that. Nothing good would come out of confronting the very Loki Variant who had helped keep you alive all this time… right? You owed him that.

You could swear that you heard Loki sigh when you took off, almost as if he didn’t take your attempt to escape seriously. You scoffed at the thought. He’d tricked you once before, he wouldn’t easily be able to pull the same maneuver on you again.

You left the main street fast, diving into a narrower side alley dimly lit by the street lanterns. It was getting dark out—that would make it easier for you to blend in with the shadows. Rapidly moving shadows, too.

Loki was right behind you. Even without turning around, you could practically feel him. His energy, his… his magic?

You gasped when you tripped over something seemingly invisible only to find a horned shadow gliding across the brick wall to your left. It was his shadow. He was making his shadow attack you. Before you were able to react, it wrapped its arm around your waist, ramming you against the wall. You hissed in pain.

“What the fuck!”

Pressed against the bricks, the invisible grip around your neck tightened immediately.

“I don’t think so, dear,” Loki purred. Annoyingly enough, he wasn’t even slightly out of breath. He narrowed his eyes at you as he approached you without a care in the world, the tension between you tripling. You struggled against the invisible bonds, unable to budge an inch. Within the twinkling of an eye, he was right in front of you, his hands replacing the shadowy shackles.

He was almost… surprised when he felt it too. Almost as if the constant banter, the unintentional flirting, and all those longing glances would not have led to this very outcome. And then, you could see it in his blue eyes, he realised that he’d won this game of seduction the two of you had been playing without ever setting the rules.

To hel with the other Loki. To hel with the git, to hel with Mobius, wherever he was. Loki was consuming you. Perhaps he already had a very long time ago when you had taken up on your leader’s advice and pretended to be a Variant yourself to keep yourself safe.

His kiss caught you off guard nonetheless, igniting you from the inside out. You moaned into his mouth, all of the bottled-up desire for this man unleashed at once. It felt like you were meant to be kissing, like you were supposed to become his all along.

Loki was met with no objection when he slid his slim fingers under your shirt, swayed by his own longing for you. You only pulled away when he lifted the skirt the TVA had given you to wear, his thumbs hooking under the hem of your knickers.

“You’re not going to fuck me in public!” you hissed, your resistance bleeding away more with every passing moment.

“Such vulgar language… did they truly believe you were a Loki with this mouth?”

“Oh, fuck off!”

Instead, he kissed you once more, pressing you against the wall even further until you gasped for air. That was it—the moment you were done for, taken in by his dominance and submitting, much to your dismay, willingly.

You jumped, wrapping your arms around his middle and holding on all the while he all but yanked the belt off of his TVA trousers, pushing them down just far enough to reveal the growing bulge between his legs. He’d kept his Asgardian underwear—but for now, it was in the way. The moan that escaped your lips the moment you finally felt his hard cock against your pussy lips to test your wetness was unholy if anything.

You had to press your face against his neck to stop yourself from crying out when he sheathed himself inside of you with but one swift thrust. Loki’s groans were heavenly—you could tell it took him every fibre of his being to not lose his composure even though right now… that was all you wanted. For him to fuck you like he meant it.

You threw your head back when he withdrew only to rut back into you, finding a rhythm that had your eyes roll to the back of your head. You didn’t have much time for this, of course. You weren’t keen on getting caught, especially not by Mobius.

And gods, he was screwing you good… working out that tension between you with every single stroke. It felt so right you could burst as you clung to him, inviting him even deeper both physically and mentally. Right now, in this very moment, you were his—and you were rather certain that he was yours. Where you’d go from there, you did not know but that didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was his warm dick sliding in and out of you, making you see stars—and doubling the frustration when he slowed down with a start.

“Why are you… stopping?”

“It’s been a while…” He smirked against your lips.

“Don’t hold back on my account. You’re a prince—I expect you know how to make it worthwhile for your partners.”

Loki growled in response and you knew then and there that he’d accepted your challenge. He ground against you, circling his hips, hitting pleasure spots hidden deep inside of you. He riled you up further and further, almost possessed by the idea of giving you pleasure before he took his own.

Your back was hurting at this point, the rough wall against your skin close to drawing blood. You didn’t care. You wanted more. More of him.

The God of Mischief picked up his speed again, burying his face in your neck now and inhaling your scent deeply—his little grunts had you dig your fingernails into his TVA jacket, and fuck, you never wanted this moment to end.

Faster and faster, Loki brought you closer to shattering into a million pieces. How the hell that was possible, you had no idea—the man had not even touched your clit, and yet, you were about to… gods, you were about to…

You cried out his name when you came, clenching around his cock repeatedly. Your toes curled as you milked him for all he was worth, triggering his own release fast.

With one final stroke, he buried himself inside of you as deep as he could before coating the inside of your pussy with his seed, his member jerking against your walls. And then—silence. Comfortable, relaxing silence.

You whimpered at the loss of him when he withdrew, set you back on the ground, and took a step back, his magic ensuring to make you both look presentable again.

“Thanks. Well, I certainly feel better now…” you muttered.

Loki smirked. “So do I. Well then. Shall we?” He offered you his arm, presumably to take you back to Mobius.

“You’re not…” Panting, you caught your breath for a moment. “You’re not really going to side with the TVA for this, are you?”

Loki sighed. “No. But I won’t let you destroy the TVA either. As much as I hate to say it, we need them—as strategic allies, if anything.”

“Spoken like a true king, huh?”

The God of Mischief narrowed his eyes a little, smirking down at you. “I wonder what else you have learned about me through this other… Loki.”

“More than you think.” You paused. “What about Mobius?”

“Mobius I trust with my life, pet.” Pet. Oh, for Heaven’s sake… “Don’t you worry.”

You wouldn’t. Not about this anyway. For now, you’d worry about not falling in love with him.

A/N: And sceeene! Keep an eye on my socials, will you? I’ll be seeing the first 2 episodes of Season 2 at the BFI on the 5th and I’ll be doing the TVA Experience on the 7th! I’m so hyped! I simply must share it with you all! Also if you’re in London and you see me there… COME SAY HI!

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sansaorgana · 9 months ago

Note

Hi! It's anon from the period thoughts hehe! I think you're spot on with all of that! Thank you :) Any chance you can do a fic with it?

Gale w/a girlfriend or wife that's having awful period cramps/day?

hiii 😘 guess who started her period today? ME 🤣 when I realised this request is next in the line to be written I laughed 😛 because it's something I'm going through at the moment, I got a bit carried away and it's quite long for a cute little fic like that haha 🥰

I have about 10 MOTA requests to write in my inbox 😅 so please, go easy with them for a while 👉🏻👈🏻 especially that requests for Feyd are open now, too 🤩

You were laying on the couch under a blanket, mindlessly watching the TV with your eyes hazy from the painkiller you had taken. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working for the pain but it was making you feel even more dazed out.

When you heard the front door opening, you sensed the feeling of guilt forming a knot in your stomach. Buck was coming back home after work and not only his house hadn’t been cleaned but also there was no dinner waiting for him on the table. You hoped he’d survive on the sandwiches but you felt bad for him.

“I’m back!” He announced his arrival but you didn’t move. You simply couldn’t.

You heard him undressing and taking his shoes off before peeking into the living room and looking at the TV.

“You’re watching this?” He asked surprised. Well, the program was stupid as hell and you were aware of it.

“I don’t want to but I can’t move to turn it off,” you admitted in a raspy, tired voice.

“Are you okay?” Buck furrowed his brows and approached the TV. He crouched down and turned it off.

“Thank you, it was starting to give me a migraine,” you admitted with a sigh.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He turned around to face you.

“I’m sorry, I have those days,” you explained.

“What days, love?”

“Ugh…” You winced at one of the cramps. “Code red, Gale. Those days,” you specified.

“Oh,” he straightened himself and put his hands on his hips, getting visibly awkward. “What can I do for you? Does it hurt a lot?”

“Yes, it does. Just leave me here alone…” You mumbled. “And don’t get angry at me because I haven’t done anything around the house. Haven’t cooked anything either,” you lowered your voice, a little scared of his reaction.

You didn’t expect your husband to be angry about such a thing. He was not like most men. But he still could get a little frustrated and irritated. You wouldn’t blame him for that but it would still feel awful to disappoint him like that.

“Hey, you don’t feel good, it’s fine,” Buck only said. “I can make myself sandwiches,” he shrugged his arms. “Have you eaten anything?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Not really, no,” you answered. “I took a painkiller but it’s not helping. It made me hazy, though.”

Buck stood there in silence for a while, looking as if he was thinking intensely about something.

“I have an idea,” he said finally. “Are you allowed to take baths in your state?” He asked and you laughed at him.

“Jesus, Gale, can you imagine not being allowed to take a bath when you’re bleeding for a few days straight?” You asked and he blushed adorably. It was quite cute how he was feeling uncomfortable with the subject of periods and how little he did know about them… yet, he still tried to help.

“Let’s run you a bath then,” he nodded.

“Gale, please…” You sighed. “Baby, you’re tired after work. Just make yourself sandwiches and get some rest, too,” you tried to stop him.

“I’m fine,” he assured you. “Come,” he approached you and picked you up bridal style with the blanket still around you. You squeezed it in your fist so it wouldn’t fall down and let him carry you to the bathroom upstairs.

Buck sat you carefully on the closed toilet seat and turned the faucet on to fill the bathtub with the warm water. He opened one of the drawers of your bathroom cabinet and hummed to himself.

“What kind of bath do you want?” He asked, unsurely.

“What do you mean by that?” You leaned back, resting your head on the cold bathroom tiles.

“You have all sorts of things here… Rose, lavender, vanilla…” He read the words on the bottles of your bath oils.

“Lavender helps,” you told him and Buck nodded his head.

He took the bottle out and you watched him carefully tilting it above the bathtub… only to pour half of it inside the water. You gasped.

“What?” He turned his head around, startled by the sound leaving your mouth.

“You’re supposed to add a few drops…” You sighed, too tired to get annoyed. Also, getting annoyed when he was trying so hard to help you would be simply unfair.

“I’m sorry… Should I run another bath now?” He asked.

“Don’t be crazy. You’ve no idea how much money you’ve just poured down there,” you let out a tired chuckle.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Buck closed the lid and put the bottle back in the drawer. “But is it safe to bathe in it now?”

“Only one way to find out, is it?” You shrugged your arms.

Buck approached you to help you stand up but you shook your head.

“No, no,” you stood up by yourself on shaky legs. “I don’t… I don’t want you to see…” You explained shyly.

“It’s just some blood, I can handle it, baby,” he assured you but he was blushing again.

“Please, just leave me here and go downstairs to eat something,” you told him. “I’ll be fine.”

“Actually, I’ll go to the store,” he stated. “I’ll buy us some proper dinner and I’ll be back in twenty minutes. You won’t drown in the meantime, will you?”

“Don’t be daft, I’m not a baby,” you smiled at him and he nodded.

Buck left the bathroom and when you were left alone there, you allowed the blanket to fall down on the floor. Then you got rid of the rest of the clothes and went inside the bathtub, sighing out of relief at the feeling of the warm water.

You were sitting there for so long that the water turned cold, however you felt too comfortable to leave. It was Buck’s soft knocking upon the door that made you finally move.

“I’m back. Are you alive there?” He asked through the door.

“Yes, I’m about to leave now,” you answered.

“Alright. I have chicken,” he told you. “Do you want tea?”

“Yes, please.”

You heard his footsteps going downstairs as you watched the water go down the drain before you stood up, grabbed a towel and dried yourself before putting dark underwear, a black nightgown and a robe that you had in the bathroom cabinet. You put the dress and underwear you had been wearing earlier to the laundry bin and picked up the blanket to fold it and take it with you downstairs to put it back in the living room.

You felt so much better after your bath, you had to admit it. Your hair was wet but you didn’t bother with drying it. It was around six in the evening and you already looked like you were about to go to sleep but you knew that Buck wouldn’t mind that at all.

And indeed, when you walked inside the kitchen, he didn’t even ask about it nor furrowed his brows at your nighttime attire. There was a chicken with mashed potatoes and a salad on the table already, alongside the tea he had made for you.

“I bought more of that lavender oil so you don’t run out of it,” Buck pointed at the unpacked groceries on the kitchen counter. “And something sweet for you,” he added. “The lady at the store was nosy, she asked me why I was buying chicken for dinner and was my wife sick so I told her the truth and she told me women like sweets when they have… those days,” his cheeks turned pink as he moved the chair for you and you sat down with a smile.

“She was right,” you told him.

“Oh, good, for a while I was scared she just wanted to swindle me to spend more money,” Buck chuckled and took a seat in front of you. “So, after all, she was helpful.”

“Yeah, I know what nosy lady you’re talking about,” you nodded at him. “She’s annoying but she’s also sweet. Hard to explain,” you giggled.

“And how do you feel now?”

“I feel much better, thank you,” you nodded and reached your hand out to caress his and give it a light squeeze before you both started to eat the chicken.

Buck was telling you about his day at work and you were listening with a slight smile. You would usually comment and ask questions or gasp at some things, demanding to know more gossip. But today you were just nodding your head and smiling, still listening but less attentively.

“I’m sorry, perhaps you’d rather eat in silence. You’ve mentioned getting a migraine before,” Buck shut his mouth suddenly.

“I would have told you if I wanted you to be quiet, baby. It’s fine,” you assured him. “And the migraine is gone now. The bath really helped me.”

“Well… I think I’ve already said everything anyway,” he laughed and stood up to get the empty plates from the table to put them in the sink. “I will wash them and you go upstairs and lay in bed. I’ll bring you the dessert when I’m done.”

“You’re absolutely the sweetest, you know that?” You asked him.

“I’m only taking care of you, darling. Like husbands do. You take care of me, too. Every day,” he looked like he didn’t understand why you were so grateful and it was making him even more special.

And he didn’t even know.

You wondered if his heart was truly so pure that he had no idea how other men could treat their wives. Whenever someone would mention some dreadful story of this sort, Buck would always widen his eyes as if he found it hard to believe. Perhaps he was truly that innocent and oblivious. Or he just couldn’t imagine being so cruel. Either way, he was a gem.

“I just love you so much,” you whispered, getting emotional. Most likely from the hormones.

“I love you, too,” he answered, a bit surprised. “Go upstairs, baby. Do you want me to carry you?”

“No, I will manage,” you stood up and kissed his cheek before leaving the kitchen.

In fact, you’d love him to carry you. But you didn’t want to bother him too much. So you just went to the bedroom and then you sighed at the sight of the freshly put white sheets. You had changed them in the morning, stupidly forgetting about your period coming soon.

With a grunt, you started to take them off. Your moves were slow and when Buck joined you upstairs, you were almost done.

“What are you doing?” He widened his eyes and put the tray he had been holding in his hands down on the vanity table.

“I put them on this morning but I have to change them now. I don’t want to stain them with blood,” you explained.

“You should have waited for me, I’ll do that,” Buck approached you and took the sheets from your hands. “Give that to me.”

“Buck, you’re a sweetheart, but I’m not dying or sick. I can do that, really,” you tried to assure him. “It’s not like it’s my first time having those days,” you explained, carefully avoiding the word period around him because you could only imagine how uncomfortable it would make him feel.

“You can help,” he agreed. “Give me the sheets you want me to put on,” he pointed to the wardrobe with his chin and you rolled your eyes before opening it and handing him the dark navy blue sheets. He gave you back the white ones and you folded them before putting them back.

When the bed was made, you sat under the cover and rested on the pillow. Your husband placed the tray in front of you and you smiled at the sight of a cake and some ice cream.

“Is it alright?” Buck asked.

“Yes, yes, it is,” you nodded with a smile and started to eat.

“By the way, I’m totally getting you a dishwasher,” he sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed and caressed your wet hair.

“Are you crazy? They're expensive!” You protested.

“But it’s going to make your life easier,” Buck pinched your cheek playfully. “You can’t say no, by the way, I’ve already made my decision.”

You didn’t say anything then and just finished eating as he watched you with admiration in his eyes. You offered him a few bites and he agreed to take them but most of the dessert was yours to eat on your own. When you were finished, you laid down, ready to take a nap. Buck took the tray from the bed and leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” he whispered softly.

“Well, then, my dreams better be of you,” you smiled at him lovingly, “if you want them to be sweet.”

Buck winked at you and went back downstairs to take the tray down. You were starting to fall asleep by the time he was back to lay down next to you and hold you close, making you feel loved and taken care of.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*buck #lilysfiction #austin butler x reader #gale cleven x reader

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virtualreader · 1 year ago

Text

broken hearts and healing souls – part 2

deanwinchesterxfem!reader

summary: a few days after the unexpected events that took place on the night of your biggest argument, Dean has a nightmare. And both of you are forced to face the feelings you had pushed aside.

word count: 2,1k.

warnings: nightmares, mentions of anger, kiss, regretful Dean.

part 1

a/n: you've been asking quite a lot for a second part for this fic, so here it is. I'm not entirely satisfied with the ending, but I still hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. also, as the part 1 was based on a song, i opted to base part 2 in another one — I’ll be good - James Young.

Another hunt, another city, and yet another sleazy motel room. But you and Dean still hadn't exchanged more than the essentially necessary words.

Ever since that night when you kissed, Dean had been ignoring you with perfectly applied silent treatment, as if you had turned into a ghost. Not that it was totally bad, a part of you preferred not facing the real issue.

Bringing the matter up would be like tearing off a scar, like reopening a wound that had never even closed. Blood would ooze from the raw, exposed skin, once again, and the pain would return, and it would hurt the same way it did when hearing those words escape his mouth: ‘this was a mistake’.

However, another part of you, though small yet present, longed for things to return to normal. To joke around with Dean again, like the time when he had made a hilarious impersonation of the local parish priest, and you had laughed until your stomach hurt. To get ingenuously mad with him for teasing you just because you were younger than he was. Damn, if you could go back in time you would have simply avoided that first argument altogether.

You stared at the ceiling, moisture stains here and there and the paint that once covered it, flaking off, revealing the rough surface underneath. Perhaps it had once been a grand and luxurious space, filled with beautiful furnishings and ornate decorations. But now, it was a shadow of its former self, a tired and worn-out shell of a room.

You should have known better. Hell, you did know better. You just didn't want to acknowledge the fact that he had no romantic feelings towards you and never could. You had become a part of the Winchesters' family a long time ago and grew up with them. Chances were Dean considered you his little sister. How could he be romantically involved with you?

I thought I saw the devil this morning Looking in the mirror, drop of rum on my tongue With the warning to help me see myself clearer

The quietness of the room was only interrupted by the occasional sound of a distant car passing by outside and the desultory barking of a dog nearby. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“What’s gotten into you guys?” had asked Sam the morning after the event, after noticing Dean’s unusual and dismissive behavior.

“None of your business, Sammy.” Dean had replied, not meeting your eyes.

You had tried to talk to Dean several times, but he would always find an excuse to leave the room or change the subject. It was like he was avoiding you, and it hurt more than you cared to admit.

Dean had always been like an older brother to you. You shared so many memories together, from hunting supernatural creatures to simply hanging out and joking around. But maybe, deep down, you wished for something more than just a sibling bond.

Trying to ignore the feeling of emptiness in your chest was hard if not impossible. It was like a piece of you was missing, and you couldn't find a way to fill the void. Knowing this would be the end result, you would never have kissed him.

You may have felt fortunate to find a motel with two available rooms, but your luck ran out when Sam claimed the one with a single bed for himself. So you were forced to share a room with Dean.

I never meant to start a fire I never meant to make you bleed I'll be a better man today

You let out a sigh, feeling frustrated and lonely. You didn't want things to be like this between you and Dean, but you didn't know how to fix it. You knew that you needed to talk to him, to tell him how you felt and try to work things out. But you were scared of what might happen if you did.

You heard a muffled sound coming from the other side of the room. You turned your head to see Dean tossing and turning in his sleep, his face contorted in pain. It was obvious that he was having a nightmare.

With a hand, you tossed the bedsheets along with the flowery comforter away, uncovering your body. You rolled your legs off of the bed and slowly yet surely moved to a sitting position. You tilted your head slightly and tried to take a glimpse of what was going on in the adjoining bed, but failed pathetically due to the scarce lightning.

Feeling concerned, you reached out blindly for the light switch. After a moment of fumbling, you found it and turned it on. The wall-mounted lamp flickered to life, casting a warm, dim light throughout the room. Dean's grimacing expression was now clearly visible, and you hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

“No! No, no!” he growled low, his teeth gritted. “No! Y/n!”

That you were not foreseeing.

You were taken aback by his outburst, not expecting it at all. What could he be dreaming about that would elicit such a strong reaction?

I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should Yeah, I'll be good, I'll be good For all of the times that I never could

Dean was sweating profusely. His breathing was shallow and ragged, and he was muttering incoherently. Waking him up seemed like an idea. Sure, you were mulish, but you were not some heartless monster.

You reached out and gently shook Dean's shoulder, trying to wake him up from his nightmare.

"Dean," you whispered, hoping that your voice would be enough to pull him out of his dreams. “Dean, wake up.”

He did not respond, and just as you were about to try again, he hastily sat up, his eyes wide, and his breathing heavy.

"Y/n?" he asked, his voice shaking. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me," you replied, relieved to see him awake and alert. "Are you okay? You were having a nightmare."

Dean ran a hand through his hair, looking around the room as if he was trying to orient himself.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said finally, his voice still shaking a little. "It was just a bad dream."

Silence took over the place. You stared at Dean, and Dean stared at you, both waiting for the other to speak first. The tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife, and the eerie environment did nothing but add to it.

"Wanna talk about it?" you asked, sensing that there was more to his nightmare than he was letting on.

Dean hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering over to you before returning to the floor. You could sense that he was struggling to find the right words to say, and as the silence stretched on, you began to feel a growing sense of unease.

My past has tasted bitter for years now So I wield an iron fist Grace is just weakness Or so I've been told I've been cold, I've been merciless

"It was about you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

The confession caught you off guard. You were surprised to hear such a heartfelt admission from him.

“Me?” You could feel your pulse quickening as you waited for him to continue.

"Yeah. I dreamed that the demon got to you," Dean continued, his voice still trembling. "That I couldn't protect you. And then...then you were gone."

You felt a lump form in your throat at Dean's words, and you instinctively reached out to place a hand on his arm. Yet, you kept a reasonable distance between the two of you, unsure of how this could alter your current situation. Unsure of whether it could bridge the seemingly unfathomable gap that separated your wounded souls.

"Dean, I'm right here," you said softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

But the blood on my hands scares me to death Maybe I'm waking up today

The mattress dipped while you sat facing Dean.

"I know that," Dean replied, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he woke up. "But...I don't know. It's like I can't shake this feeling that something's going to happen to you."

You could see the fear and uncertainty etched into Dean's features, and you knew that he was struggling with his emotions. It was hard for him to admit that he was scared, especially when it came to you.

But you also knew that you couldn't keep ignoring the elephant in the room. You needed to talk to Dean about what had happened between you, or you would never be able to move forward.

"Dean," you said, your voice steady but firm.

He looked away, his jaw tight and his hands clenched into fists.

"I messed up,” he uttered, deciding to address the matter before you had a chance to gather your thoughts. “I didn’t want us to end up like this.”

"I know," you said softly, your heart aching at the sound of his voice. "But we can't keep avoiding each other like this. We need to talk.”

Dean let out a sigh and his shoulders slumped, his entire demeanor reflecting the weight of the situation. Dean had always been good at avoiding his feelings, pushing them aside in favor of the mission. But this time, he couldn't do that. You both knew that it was time to stop tip-toeing around the issue and get to the heart of the matter.

"I was scared," he admitted. "Scared of losing you. Hell, I still am. That’s why I didn’t want you to go on hunts anymore."

Dean's voice was low and steady, but there was an underlying intensity to it that betrayed the depth of his emotions. He was laying it all on the line, baring his soul in a way that he had never done before.

I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should (oh-oh-oh) I'll be good, I'll be good (I'll be good, I'll be good)

Afraid he would retract on opening up to you, you did not dare say anything, instead you fixated your gaze on his glossy, green eyes, encouraging him to continue. He took your hand in his, and his eyes softened.

“I don't think about you as a kid. It's just that…when you love something, you protect it.”

Dean's words hung in the air, the weight of them almost palpable. He looked at you, waiting for a response, his heart pounding in his chest.

The walls around Dean's heart, which had once been so solid and towering, had finally come crumbling down, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. It was clear that there was no going back from this point, as Dean had decided to tear down his emotional barriers and reveal his true self. The honesty and openness that he was displaying left you feeling speechless, as if you were witnessing something truly special and rare.

“Please, y/n. Say something,” he said with his voice at the verge of breaking, when you did not say anything.

“You love me?”

“I can’t pretend anymore. You are everything, everything.” Dean finally confessed, his grip on your hand tightening.

For all of the light that I shut out For all of the innocent things that I doubt For all of the bruises I've caused in the tears For all of the things that I've done All these years, no, yeah For all the sparks that I stomped out For all of the perfect things that I doubt

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. But this time, they weren't tears of sadness; they were tears of joy. You had wanted to hear those words for so long – even if it was not a straightfoward 'I love you' –, but you had never dared to hope that they would be true.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," Dean uttered. "The idea of losing you, of ruining what we had, terrified me. You were always like a sister to us, and when I first felt something more for you, I didn't want to admit it. But I can't keep pretending that I don't feel this way.”

I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should Yeah, I'll be good, I'll be good For all of the times I never could

“Dean, I-I…” you tried to say, yet, the words got caught in your throat, the upheaval of the moment hindering your ability to vocalise something coherent.

Delicately, he reached out and carefully tucked a strand of your hair that had come loose behind your ear. His fingers lightly brushed against your skin as he cupped your cheek in his hand, his thumb tracing circles on your skin.

Dean looked at you for a long moment, his eyes softening as he took in your presence. You could sense the shift in his demeanor as the distress that had been etched in his features not five minutes before, had now completely vanished. His eyes seemed to sparkle with a new sense of calmness and peace.

Warmth blossomed in your chest, sparks igniting as Dean leaned in close, lips brushing together, tentatively, for the first time that night, though not the last.

His fingers danced through your hair, caressing the back of your head with the sweetest touch. His lips parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slide inside his mouth, and a hint of cinnamon and vodka mingled together, creating a unique and intoxicating combination that lingered on your taste buds.

Oh, oh-oh Oh, oh Oh, oh-oh For all of the times I never could

“I love you too, Dean.” you whispered in his ear, momentarily pulling away.

And, as you held each other, melting into the kiss, you both knew there was no going back to the way things were before.

@losa12308 – as you requested, I'm tagging you in part 2 (I'm actually thinking of making a taglist)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchest x reader fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester angst #sam and dean #dean winchester x female!reader #supernaturalxreader #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural fanfiction #hbo supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural #supernatural x reader #spnfandom #spn

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hey-august · 2 months ago

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Saw the cuteness aggression post you reblogged and would feel blessed if you ever wrote whump fic with Buggy because I would ALSO love to try and comfort a man who just staggered into the room bloody, beaten and bruised, clearly just thumbling over the threshold of “show no weakness” to “in so much pain he doesn’t even care anymore that he’s hiccuping and sobbing like a child while clinging to you” hurt comfort with heavy emphasis on the hurt? Yes pls

Anon, I'm so so sorry for how long it took me to get to this. I love me some angst and whump, and while I had ideas, the motivation to write was not working with me.

I don't want to keep holding onto this and leave you hanging for even longer, so I wrote out my idea in bullet point format.

I hope this still hits the spot!

WC: ~550 Warnings: buggy x gn!reader, mentions of blood and burn wounds

You and Buggy have an unspoken thing. A mutual pining. There's respect and some affection. A closeness, but still distance and a barrier that neither of you acknowledge.

You're the ship's doctor and the crew was in a rough fight. Lots of injuries, ranging from minor scuffs, to teeth knocked out, stitches, broken noses and broken bones, blood and tears - it's a lot in a short period of time.

You're doing what you can, and those who are less injured are helping where they can.

Once you get through those involved, the captain is the last one left needing your attention.

Maybe he's been sitting nearby the whole time, waving away anyone coming to triage or check on him, snapping that he's fine. Get the hell away from him.

But when the room empties, Buggy crumbles. It starts small, bit by bit as you assess him.

His busted lip is split and bleeding, the color mixing with his smeared lipstick. His right eye is swelling. His beautiful hair is singed. The affected tips are stuck in terrified curls from trying to run from the heat. The smell is clinging everywhere.

But the worst are the burns. You're not sure what happened - some of the other crewmembers had burns and scorch marks, but not like this.

Your captain has some rough wounds on his arms and torso, where the heat ate away at the fabric before feeding on his skin and flesh.

He's wet and sticky. Swaths of skin are weeping. Buggy's feeling exposed, tender, and hurt. Pain is radiating out while regret and fear are falling inwards.

All it takes is one soft comment from you. "You must be in so much pain." You were talking to yourself, but it's the acknowledgement that Buggy must have needed.

The eyes that had been avoiding yours, stopped holding back tears. His clenched jaw and tight lips quiver. He nods.

You can't fathom how much it hurts to move, but Buggy has his arms wrapped tightly around your midsection. His hands are clutching your clothes, pulling them taut. It's like he's a cracked vessel, losing liquid and life, but maybe you can keep him together. Maybe you could fix him. And if not, he wouldn't be alone as he breaks.

Hurting more is often part of getting better. You know this, and you let it happen.

You let Buggy cry against you. You let his tears, snot, spittle, and worries seep into your clothes. You hold the back of his head and put a hand on his back, and rub. You let your own stinging tears fall.

Noises get caught in his throat and Buggy fixes his hold, as if he's trying to wrap himself around you even more. As if he's trying to squeeze every drop of comfort and care from you.

His hands are detached, fingers stretched and probably barely connected, all so he can hold more of you. Even his feet are shuffling, seeking contact against yours. His knees knocking against your legs.

Buggy continues until he's hiccupping and coughing. Until he has a headache and his eyes are bleary.

You should have stopped him sooner. Some of the oozing wounds started to crust and are clinging to the fabric of your clothes.

Buggy whines and grunts as he literally peels himself away.

You still need to clean and dress the wounds, so another round of pain. One could argue that you should have gone ahead and done that right away, but no.

Despite the visible injuries, there's invisible damage that needed to be soothed.

You can almost see Buggy picking up his broken pieces and putting them back together. Recreating a wall, a mask, a barrier.

You know what's on the other side, though. And you will be there whenever he needs you.

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #hey-august buggy short stories #buggy angst #hey-august replies

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theninth09 · 5 months ago

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thinking about how liam almost fell to his death from the hospitals rooftop and then like very soon after that willingly went back to that same rooftop to help kira. and then during the whole ghost rider thing, he jumps VERY far down to get to the horse.

its just. liam constantly getting confronted with situations that were very traumatizing for him and always entering those situations head on. almost falling to his death, getting bitten and kidnapped and turned into a werewolf? goes back to that same rooftop to fight a monster very soon after that.

and liam is so terrified of the berserkers to the point hes scared to be alone, scared in the dark, too scared to fall asleep, so afraid that he cant focus on lacrosse, so scared that he keeps seeing/hallucinating? a berserker about to attack him and then he STILL decides to go to mexico??? stiles literally tells him that he doesnt have to come with them and liam goes "i know but i want to" WHAT THE FUCK? and its a full moon!

hes scared of losing control, hes been on edge bc of everything happening and scott not being there for him anyway and he still manages to control himself on the full moon and goes to fight the monsters hes terrified of anyway.

the whole thing with the berserker and how he got bitten both happened on the rooftop of the hospital. so hes had two traumatizing events happen on a rooftop and he still jumps so far down during the wild hunt thing to get to the horse.

and he even says "i hate horses" RIGHT before it? and he still does it??? theo asks him if he knows how to ride a horse and he just says "not really!" and rides off anyway??? hayden asks him when he learned how to ride a horse and he just goes "right now" like???

moving on.

he has only bad memories with brett and still forces himself to confront him in front of EVERYBODY and be nice to him, knowing what brett is like. and when brett starts taunting and threatening him, he tries so hard to control himself, he makes himself bleed. brett is nothing but an asshole to him and liam still starts being kinda? weirdly? friends with him and asks brett for help with lacrosse, tries to save brett, feels guilty for bretts death even though it wasnt his fault.

oh and that fucking class room scene. he got beaten up so badly that he was absolutely COVERED in blood and would have so many serious injuries if it wasnt for his fast healing, he took that beating while his whole class was watching and laughing and his fucking teacher didnt intervene and just went "oh its better to leave them alone sometimes" and then when scott asks him to go back to that class, he STILL does it. he knows the whole school is full of people who want to kill him, he mentions that he hates biology and he still goes back to that fucking class full of people who stood there while he was coughing up blood on the floor. to that teacher, WHO WAS A WEREWOLF HERSELF, and still just took one look at his face and refused to help him. he went back to that class and did just as scott asked him to.

also: he knew what happened to him at that zoo and he still made the plan to go there himself bc apparently the plan was more important to him than his trauma. like im so serious, he just keeps going back and back into situations where he was hurt and helpless and alone and he sometimes mentions his discomfort or fear but he still does it. he just goes back to those situations and does whats necessary (or what he deems necessary) anyway. god i love him.

hes so brave like. gets attacked and poisoned and thrown down into a well to die? instead of despairing, he starts CLIMBING his way out of that well. falls back down, hurts himself punching the wall, thinks of his dad, starts climbing again.

he wants scotts approval and thinks he isnt a good leader but he still sticks to his ideas and goes through with them and takes full responsibility, proving to scott that hes capable. i mean fucking hell, he took a ghostriders horse and rode INTO the wild hunt. like who does that????

and because hes strong and aggressive he gets put into that brawn stereotype instead of brain but hes actually so smart. he comes up with plans constantly and he has quick thinking & good observation skills. like yeah hes a bit of a dumbass and says silly things but hes strong and capable and smart and brave and a good leader..

and god his character development in s6a. the way he tries to tell hayden that he can be the alpha but cant even get the words out bc clearly he doesnt believe them himself. and he tries to be a leader & hes GOOD at it, but he still doesnt believe in himself, thinks he doesnt deserve being team captain, doesnt ask for his friends help even though they're willing to follow his lead. and at the end of s6a when stiles tells him that hes the alpha now that scotts leaving, he just goes, all nonchalant, "im not an alpha" hes not worried about it or doubts himself or has trouble admitting that. hes not an alpha, obviously, but he doesnt have to be. he can be a leader, the alpha in acting or whatever without having to be The Alpha™

MY POINT IS: he goes through something extremely traumatic, struggles with fear and self doubt, doesnt even open up to his friends about it or ask for help and then still faces his fear and brings himself willingly right back into a situation that caused him trauma. my favorite reckless silly puppy...

#i love him sm #like seriously #hes extremely dear to me #liam dunbar #teen wolf #my ramblings

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 3 months ago

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triangle. l Frankie “Catfish” Morales

💔 a few ways to break your heart 💔

Summary: three is already a crowd

Warnings: angst, a few bad words, ending a relationship

A/N: something like a mini series, not necessarily good and nice stories. scribbles. I hope that despite everything you will stay with me.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

a few ways to break a heart [masterlist]

"I thought we were..."

"You thought we were what?"

Frankie shrugged, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. And he certainly wasn't sure of the person standing in front of him, whose eyes were avoiding his gaze, and whose mouth was letting out words that were causing him so much pain.

He barely recognized you. You had been friends for a few years, a really good ones. However, for a few months, everything had been slowly falling apart, and the inevitable fuck-up had occurred during your birthday outing to a bar.

The air was crispy, but you felt like a living fire was burning you from the inside. You didn't want to do this. Your heart was bleeding when you looked at Frankie's confused face, but you couldn't pretend that everything was fine anymore. Because it wasn't.

Each day began and ended with the thought that you loved him, and he could never be yours. He couldn't, because he was hers.

Gloria was perfect - full lips, long hair and shapely legs. It would be easier if you could hate her, but you didn't want to. But you also couldn't pretend that it didn't bother you.

Frankie knew you so well that he quickly noticed that something was wrong. You blamed your bad mood on work, on stress, on some guy you went out with on a date, on anything just so you wouldn't have to tell him "I'm in love with you, idiot! And it hurts like hell."

You started to tense up at accidental touches or when he hugged you. It took you longer to reply to his messages, and arranging to talk with you was becoming more and more difficult.

And now this. You looked so pretty in that new dress and makeup that when he saw you, a smile immediately appeared on his face. How was he supposed to know that this morning you decided to finally close the chapter titled "Frankie", that you decided to cut him off.

"Did I do something?" he finally asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "You've been acting like..."

"Like what?" you asked "Like a bitch?"

He looked at you reproachfully, "I didn't say that."

"But you thought."

A group of laughing people passed you and for a moment you both fell silent. You were the first to break the silence.

"I think it would be better if we didn't contact each other for a while." you mumbled, you didn't even have the courage to look at him.

"How much and for how long?" his voice was flat, almost emotionless. Another needle that pierced your heart, because Frankie had never spoken to you like that.

You shrugged. "I don't know. As much as it takes."

Frankie nodded, and after a moment he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a white envelope. "I guess I should give you your present now, because I won't have the chance later." he extended his hand to you "Happy birthday."

He wanted to add "baby", like always, but now he didn't know if you wouldn't take that as a provocation. You hesitantly reached into the envelope, inside you found two tickets to a concert.

"You like them, right?" a weird question, because a while ago you were abusing Frankie by constantly playing their latest album "I thought we could go together, but now you'll probably go with someone else. Either way, I hope you have a great time."

"You should go with Gloria." you mumbled, holding the envelope out to him, but he just grimaced and shook his head.

"She doesn't like them. Besides, this is for you.”

“Thank you.” You said quietly, and a hint of that old smile appeared on his lips.

"I think I'll go now. I don't want to take up any more of your time." He said, glancing towards the entrance. "I think Gloria's looking for me."

"You're probably right."

He made a gesture as if he wanted to hug you, but he quickly pulled you away. So all that was left was a nod, a quiet "Take care of yourself." and after a moment you were just watching his broad shoulders as he entered the bar.

Your heart was shattered into a thousand pieces, tears welled up in your eyes, but you knew you had to do it.

For both of you.

Maybe soon you will heal from what you felt, maybe you will forget, maybe one day it will be better...

redemption : triangle. l Frankie “Catfish” Morales

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #pedro pascal #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #a few ways to break a heart

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cartoon-cass · 10 months ago

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Comprehensive breakdown of MURDER DRONES - Episode 7: Mass Destruction

I saw a breakdown of this episode on youtube and it was just clearly rushed so I want to do this episode justice so here's my comprehensive breakdown.

New intro, look at them! They look so happy, that is not the case in the episode, to say the least. With how much rubber hosing this animation has I would not be surprised if this was done by Kevin Temmer Tunes with what he learned from amazing digital circus Edit: N was animated by Micah Preciado and Uzi by Zachary Preciado

Bad day to accidentally grab the wrong uniform, I do wonder where the actual Dr.Chambers was in all this. Wonder if it would have made a difference... probably not.

Not actually important but having the shadows of the claws that aren't actually there be the thing to interact with the world is fucking cool as hell. This whole scene is a cool twist on an exorcism with robots and science.

Like look at this, it's a pentagram magnet, a normal pentagram from my basic pop culture understanding it's meant to not only summon a demon but also keep them from leaving the circle. A strong magnet is so smart for this case as it's used to keep Nori in place, I mean it doesn't end up working in the end but it's the thought that counts.

It took my second watch of this episode to realize why the lights got turned on, it revealed the tentacles and claws but it's sun light, the same stuff that burns the Disassembly Drones and Uzi. It even has the same effect as in the end of Episode 4

Can I just say how extra it is making the USB a crucifix, I love it. Also I just notice that on the end of the crucifix the detailing is actually in the shape of a USB symbol, the details in this show is amazing, you can see all the love that went in to it.

This is probably the most terrifying way to hold these robots. I couldn't blame any of the robots for wanting to kill the human good god. Also Yeva playing Tetris, the game has a lot of ties to Russia so wonder if she spoke Russian too, she doesn't speak in this episode and not sure if we'll get more flashback with her so not sure if we will ever find out.

Not sure why Mitchell stop Yeva from entering the church but I like to think he thought Yeva was like a kid, look at him holding her hand in the scene before, and was trying to keep her save and knew something was off. That being said I'd love to hear what you think is his reasoning, sound off in the comments/reblogs.

Pulling back we can see Nori, specifically her core, looking at a crucifix comparing it to the USB crucifix in the video to see if it's the one with the patch, it's not, so she goes out for the hunt to see if she can find it.

Like daughter, like mother, honestly cool little details that lets us know what kind of character Nori is with the very little time we have with her. Drawing made presumably by her of herself as a human cat girl, twice, motor oil cans everywhere, a fricking ninja star, nightcore music, a anime statue that might be a reference to something but I have no clue, also magnets which have been used in the passed like drugs so that's um... something.

was originally just going to point out the funny little animation errors in this scene, as the paper goes through the Ipod and the crinkled paper is mirrored but then I wanted to check what was on the paper and...

It's a missing poster of all things? it uses the exact posters used in episode 3 it's probably just reusing assets but I thought it was a cool thing to point out.

Uzi bleeds blood in these scenes and it's not necessarily mentioned out loud, clearly something AS related, but there might be more to it, or it just looks cool.

This man is in some serious denial, but credit where credit is due, when "Tessa" tells N to stop he turns around, and when Uzi apologized for not being able to help he immediately apologized for Snapping at her. Also look at Tessa's little pointing, thought it was funny.

N: "We're not going to hurt you."

I can't blame Uzi for taking this the wrong way, he's clearly telling Tessa off but all Uzi hears is "hurt you", hence why she only parrots that part.

Thad: "Aaand you won't tell me why we're wandering around 'cause...?" Lizzy: "I'm a good friend, and secrets are blackmail. And it's not about football." Thad: "Okay. Does your secret friend want to know about football, or...?"

Anyone else wondering who Lizzy's good friend is? The only 2 characters we know are good friends with Lizzy are Doll and V. It's possible that through everything Doll sent a text to Lizzy asking her to do something but I feel like V just makes more sense. This does assume V made her way away from the sentinels, if I had to guess she's just a core at the moment which might be why she couldn't do it herself, no wings nor weapons as a core, also makes the blackmail line make more sense.

N: "I deserve this. I deserve this. I deserve this."

Baby girl NO! no you don't, your too hard on your self

That scream. That cut. *chef's kiss* perfect.

This scene just shows us why Uzi went towards the church. Also note when she's the most stressed her eye turns yellow so it does seem stress is the deciding factor whether she can be possessed.

V/AS: You know, you're one of the main reasons... [voice glitching] ...I wanted your team to retain your personalities.

This quote I think has some interesting implications, I mean it obviously confirms that the DD squad was influence by AS but it might also be why it keeps a bit of the personality of which ever host it's using.

This scene holy shit, the music, the lighting, the sound design and animation, that's how you do horror! You don't even need detailed gore, in fact most of it is just off screen. like look at the DD's off in the distance one catches the pilot of the helicopter mid air then they fight over it like hungry animals.

Ok so I hit the image limit and it's almost 1 in the morning so I'm gonna go to bed and continue this tomorrow

~to be continued~

#murder drones #serial designation n #uzi doorman #nori doorman #Yeva #tessa james elliot #I'm just going to tag her to make it easier #Murder drone theory

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eywamygoddesswrites · 2 years ago

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Hiii, how are you??

If its okay with you i would like to resquest a platonic yandere of either the Sully's or tonowari family(whichever you prefer) when their youngest child (reader) comes home injuries because of some bullies

How would they react??

(if you can't do it or don't feel comfortable its completely fine)

— 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓽 — (sully family, tonowari family x platonic!reader) | separate

requested: yes

pairing: sully familly x gn!reader, tonowari family x gn!reader

tags: platonic, yandere, youngest sibling, youngest child, just a doting family

warnings: lowercase intended, mentions of torture but not elaborated, injuries

a/n: characters are aged up! hi there! i'm doing very well, thank you very much. i just came back from class and i got a few more ask after this so i'm very inspired in making and answering them. hope you enjoy this!

word count: 946

+ gif not mine. ctto.

sully family:

being the youngest in the sully family has its perks. having 5 protective older siblings i’m adding spider ‘cause i can is fun! y/n has friends to play with them, someone who looks after them when their parents aren’t available, and their life is never boring

but when they came home crying, their knees scraped and bleeding after being pushed by their bullies during the kid’s nursery (i imagine there’s a nursery class that is just the na’vi kids interacting for early socialization in the clan)

their knees hurt, and their elbow also scraped due to the impact of the push, just crying that so, so, and so pushed them during nursery

neytiri was fuming, to say the least. no one messes with her baby. no one

jake was trying to calm his mate, reminding her that those are just kids and they mess up from time to time. it’s the parents you should get mad at because they didn’t raise their kids right

neytiri would then blame the kids’ parents for raising rotten kids that bullied her youngest and would threaten the parents if their kids bully her baby again

jake, on the other hand, would threaten the livelihood of the parents. would hold their family’s place in the clan above their heads and wouldn’t hesitate to banish them. to hell if they get killed by the animals that lurked in the dark

kiri was cleaning up y/n’s booboos while neteyam held his baby sibling

lo’ak plans on tripping said kids by holding his foot out and acting like he didn’t do anything (petty but hey, it’s a small way to get back at the kids)

spider would distract y/n by talling them stories that happened back in the lab. they loved hearing all the sciency human stuff and hearing them from spider was fun and he would probably join lo’ak on the pettiness

tuk was quickly weaving some bracelets to help her baby sibling calm down. she will do anything and everything to help her only baby sibling out

if said bullies had older siblings that are learning to be a warrior or a tsahik, neteyam and kiri would sabotage them. neteyam would destroy the weapons that the siblings had created for the training while kiri would add herbs and slimes that messes up the medicine the siblings would create mo’at gets disappointed at the bullies’ siblings for messing up their works

but, if we say that y/n is younger than lo’ak by a year (around 13) and took tuk’s place as the youngest, that’s another story

jake and neytiri would be the last to know that they’re being bullied by other na’vi’s because y/n begged their siblings to not tell their parents

neteyam and lo’ak would beat those bullies up to a pulp. they didn’t care if their dad would tell them off afterward. what matters is that they don’t get to harm their siblings ever again

kiri would destroy their image if said bullies were training to be a tsahik. she would tell mo’at a lot of things that would slowly hurt their character then, later on, would be told off and not be thought by mo’at

spider would join neteyam and lo’ak at one point but then again, he’s small while teen na’vi’s were hella tall so he becomes neteyam and lo’ak’s hypeman

overall: the sully family wouldn’t mind beating a few na’vi’s up when protecting their youngest. sully’s stick together!

tonowari family:

y/n is the kid that didn’t have to do much to impress the family. they could just breathe and tonowari would throw a whole feast to celebrate it

ronal is a very doting mother. although a warrior and seen as a very serious tsahik, she would smile whenever she sees her youngest. also very protective. like, super duper protective that no one besides their family can interact with their youngest. if you do, she’d wave your head up on her spear and set it as a reminder to the rest that if you do mess with her youngest, you’ll be next

tonowari is much more doting than ronal but if the softer version. instead of being violent like his mate, he would rather let nature do the violence. why get the blood on your fingers when pandora can do the work? he didn’t want to hold his baby with the blood of their bullies

ao’nung is no different from their mother. but instead of giving the easier end, he would rather beat them up and keep them alive just to prolong to torture. torture = honoring his sibling’s existence

tsireya is the most normal of the bunch. but if she hears that her sibling is messed with, just knows the whole family is coming for their head. she would be with her sibling and distracting them while the family ‘talks’ with said bullies

so when one-day y/n comes home severely injured by her bullies, all hell broke loose

the parents of said bullies were held off by other metkayina’s while they watched ao’nung, rotxo, and a few other of their friends beat up the bullies

ronal was held back by tonowari because if he didn’t, ronal would’ve hurt the parents of the bullies or worse

tonowari eventually forcefully removed the family that tormented his youngest child because if he gives them a chance, his child might get hurt again and he’s not taking that risk

tsireya was tending y/n’s wounds and reassuring them that the bullies won’t hurt them again because their parents will send them away

tdrl: you hurt tonowari and ronal’s youngest, and you leave severely beaten up

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theangelcatalogue · 4 months ago

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❝ Have you ever died in a nightmare? Woke up surprised you hadn’t earned your fate? ❞ ― YANDERE X MEN X DREAM INTERPRETER!DARLING

→ X MEN EVOLUTION

→ PLATONIC/ROMANTIC

→ GENDER NEUTRAL READER

→ TW: IMPLIED NIGHTMARES, IMPLIED MURDER, BULLYING, IMPLIED HALLUCINATIONS, POSSIBLE MENTAL HEALTHY MOCKING, SWEARING, OVERPROTECTIVE BEHAVIOR , BAD GRAMMAR, BAD ENGLISH AND MADE BY A MINOR! IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE, FEEL FREE TO LEAVE! PLEASE TELL IF I FORGOT SOMETHING! IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE, FELL FREE TO LEAVE! I HOPE YOU ENJOY (´• ω •`) ♡

❝ Have you ever felt like Atlas, threw your back out on the axis... ❞

— ⠀Third person

A dream interpreter, that's what you were, basically, your mutation consisted of controlling, entering and experiencing other people dreams, you discovered when you accidentally transformed your neighbor's kid dream in a nightmare while babysitting them, silly you.

And that happened until you realized that you were the problem. You also could do that with your own dreams, well, that was bad because there was one little problem...

You could hurt yourself in your dreams, one day you dreamed you were drowning, just to wake up soaking wet, or like when you dreamed you were bitten by an animal, just to wake up with a bite mark, bleeding, in your arm.

It took a few time to Professor found you, asking you about your experience, it was hell for you, you could control your dreams? Yes. You knew how to do that? No. Did you almost die in these dreams and nightmares? Yes.

He also asked your father about this, talking about how the institute would be an amazing experience, where you would stay with teenagers like you, and help you control your abilities.

Your father was hesitant, his only kid, away from him? After hesitating, he agreed, not before talking about your problems to the Professor, warning him to have patience with you.

" Please just be patience with they... they have these hallucinations, and they can hurt themselves in these dreams, and- "

" There is no need to worry, sir, we will take care of them. They are in good hands. "

Well, technically, you were in good hands, all of them tried to do be your friends and thought your power as rather different (Kurt and Evan asked you to interpret the dumbest dreams ever.)

They were very patience with you, or tried to be, and they were very, very protectives. It could be suffocating, so you tried to not tell them what happened so they wouldn't worry.

Your power had another problems, sometimes, you can hallucinate with things and creatures from your dreams, but the most recent and common ones are from your nightmares. You aren't sure if they are real or your imagination, but how you were the only one that could see them...

And this made you pass for many problems and situations at all, some classmates would have patience with you, some would find you weird, and others would be... downright mean and bullies.

" Come on, freak! Tell me what you're saying! It's another scary clown?, " Ram mocked, arms crossed, looking at you with like a total idiot. He is your main bully, he thought he was so funny, like this 'joke' wasn't made before.

" Yeah, it's a clown, the dumbest one i have ever seen in my entire life. " You responded him bluntly, you already were feed up of him at this point, why couldn't he just leave you alone? He has nothing better than to do? Like, smacking lunch trays? Or be a huge dick— Oh wait, he already is that.

It took him a while to understand you were talking about him, that he was a clown, that guy was really dumb. His face darkened with pure annoyance at you.

" Well, at least i'm not an insane freak! How did your parents didn't leave you when they had a chance? How do your friends even support your presence? " He scoffs.

" You are so right! But you know? I have to go. " You said, closing your locker, preparing to walk away, he really thinks he is offending you, sure it still hurts, but crying or fighting him wouldn't make this better, it would only make his ego get worse. So you just decided to agree and leave, hoping he wouldn't do anything.

However, you felt him grabbing you by your shoulders, making you look at him again, he was pissed off you were walking away, he grabs you by your jacket and press you in the lockers. Preparing to punch you.

" Who said you could just walk away from me? Your little piece of shit- "

" What's happening here? "

You hear a familiar voice, you and Ram turn your head to see a familiar figure, your hero... or your military general:

Scott Summers.

" Let them go. Before i do something you won't like. " Scott said to Ram, while crossing his arms, if looks could kill, Ram would be dead right now. I mean, you couldn't know because of the glasses, but you felt that he was giving him a death glare to Ram, you just knewn that.

Ram lets you go, not before sending you a " This isn't over. " look, he walks away, leaving you and Scott alone in the hallway.

You turn your head to look at Scott, the good thing is that you're safe from Ram... the bad? Having to listen to Scott giving you a whole speech about how you should ask them help in moments like this. This is the safiest option, actually.

" Who was that? "

" Ram Kelly. "

" Ram Kelly..., " He repeated, you could feel something weird in his tone, something that caused shivers in your spine. " And... he picks on you daily? "

You didn't know how to respond to that question, yes, Ram did that daily, it was part of your routine at this point. But if you tell Scott that, he will realize you are hiding things from him and the other X-mens.

" I will consider your silence as a yes., " He sighs, obviously disappointed with you. " Y/N, we already told you... if someone is messing with you, you need to tell us. " He advised you, he and the others have told you that many times.

" I know, i know! Sorry... i don't want you guys to worry, my problems, my deal. " You responded him, and it was truth, you already worry them enough with your nightmares, creams and bruises in the middle of the night, you don't want to bother them with some stupid school problems.

Before he could say anything to you, the bells rang, you rushed to your class, not wanting to be late, but also not wanting to hear Scott's possible scolding.

" We want to worry... " Scott mumbled to himself, observing you rush away, before going to his own class.

" Ugh! This guy is so disgusting! Now i'm feeling weird because of that... " Rogue complained after touching Ram, making him faint.

" Don't worry, i will be worth it! " Kurt responds her, while Scott looks at Ram's body.

" It is. " Scott said, before taking his glasses off, in direction to Ram's head.

★- AND COLLAPSED AND THREW THE PLANET AWAY?

★ FINALLY POSTED A NEW ONE SHOT YAY

★ I love x men evolution so much

★ How are u guys?? Hope you all doing well!

★ Silly Oona gif

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