#i start gagging and i start to curl up like ITS BAD I HAVE SUCH A STRONG REACTION TO IT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kenyummy · 4 months

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LOOKING OUT FOR YOU — KARASU TABITO

SYNOPSIS: karasu tabito has always looked out for you. when you meet his best friend, otoya, that fact still does not change.

note: lol sorry guys i felt a little silly

wc ;; 2.5k

You have known Karasu Tabito since you have been in diapers.

It's always been a known fact. Your mothers met each other at the hospital, became friends, and eventually, you two met. That fateful day, you met Karasu Tabito and your life has never been void of him since.

At age three, you two went out to a waterpark and that was the first time he kissed you.

(It wasn't really a kiss—you accidentally fell on top of him after sliding down a waterslide, he promised he'd catch you, and he did—his mouth just happened to land on yours). You were so disgusted you started to cry—he gagged and ran away.

At age five and a half, you both had your first sleepover. He had a big scary dog that was almost as big as you were and scared you half to death. You were so terrified of the thing you refused to let go of the bottom of his stupid purple Megatron shirt.

You spent the entire night sleeping by his side, and he never once softened his grip on you—it was the only thing that lulled you to sleep. Your mom still had photos of you clinging onto him like it was life or death.

At age twelve, you two entered middle school together. You've never spent a day without him—so it was quite strange when you were forced to enter a strange, new class—and even weirder when your female classmates gave you both googly eyes and always giggled whenever you were around. You never really understood what they meant by this—and to this day, you still don't.

You and Karasu Tabito have known each other since you two were able to walk, and because of this fact, you've never once noticed the way he looks at you.

The soft stares, small smiles (not those stupid, cocky smirks that he holds when he's out on the field—but rather, a grin that curls up on his lips and makes his cheeks grow pink), and the thoughtful, almost unnoticeable actions he takes only for you.

You've never seen it—not now, not never, is what he's hoping. If there is one thing Karasu Tabito shall never do, is tell you what he's done. He'll wait, maybe for a day he will see you stare at him with just as much fondness, or when your touch will linger on his upper arm for a minute too long.

He's always been good at analyzing people—and when he's known you for so long, you've surely become no exception. It was a habit you hated so much, but one he never seemed to be able to get rid of—only able to hide, for the sake of your wellbeing. He's grown soft, he thinks, every single night after he's lying alone in his bed and staring blankly up at the ceiling. He has grown soft for you, his best friend since childhood. But that isn't so much of a bad thing, he thinks again.

He doesn't mind all that much.

The crow, once wild and rowdy, is content with the preening it receives from its owner—and learns to love its life trapped inside the golden cage. He will wait, patiently, for the day you would fall for him—at least, that is what he was originally planning to do.

At age eighteen, he introduced you to his best friend, Otoya Eita. A notorious football player, playboy, and womanizer. There is a good reason Karasu had waited so long to introduce his two closest friends together, and that is because Otoya had quite a history with all of Karasu's female friends.

He's told him to quit it, to stop—but it's never been as serious as it is now.

"Seriously man, don't with her." Karasu sits beside his friend with narrowed eyes and a frown. Otoya's expression is nonchalant as ever, except with a singular brow raised in question.

"What's got you so pissed? I didn't even say anything."

"I know you. Don't, dude. She's different, okay? I don't care about whatever happened with the others, but you seriously need to lay off."

Otoya raises his hands in mock defence, half-lidded eyes widening ever-so-slightly. "Alright. Promise. I won't do anything."

Karasu raises a brow, staring at his whistling buddy from the corner of his eye—he couldn't help but doubt him. Still, he was his closest friend from Blue Lock, and he should do well to trust that said friend—even if Karasu Tabito should know better.

He really should've known better.

As soon as Otoya caught sight of you—he slid next to you, ever so casually—with his phone stuck out and a small smile playing on his lips—asking for your number. You were shocked, of course, and Tabito had no shortage of criticism regarding his green-striped friend to speak to you—still, he was pretty cute, and pretty charming, with that grin.

So, despite your better judgement, and to Karasu's horror—you momentarily forget his words and nod—still in shocked silence—and pass him your phone.

Karasu doesn't think he's ever seen Otoya that happy. Still, you don't look uncomfortable—even with that gross, stupid man pressed right to your side—so Karasu holds his tongue and simply chews down, hard, on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from cursing his friend out.

The crow introduces the both of you together, and it does not take long at all before, he, who was sitting on the opposite side of the table from you two, becomes the so-called third wheel.

Karasu Tabito could only stare in silence as you and Otoya, surprisingly, held a decent conversation.

Tabito nearly socked Eita in the face when he slid his arm around you and winked—a cheesy, stupid action that could make even the most romantic author gag in horror.

Even so, you smile—and Tabito's heart drops to his stomach.

...

Karasu had mostly forgotten about this moment for a good week—choosing to just enjoy your presence after that. However, after that week of peace, he was rudely reminded just how persistent Otoya could be with girls.

"Otoya... is a nice guy." You point at your phone, showing it to your best friend with a smile. Your cheeks are flushed pink as you type back a response to his message—but it's half-written and unsent when Karasu snatches the device out of your hands.

He's never seen something so disgusting. It's vile. It's horrible. It's so gross.

"What the fuck?" He curses absentmindedly, eyes wide with disgusted shock as he reads over your conversations. At first, it was about Karasu and both your friendships with him—but those conversations soon turned into deeper, personal talks that you'd never shared with anybody but him.

You try and grab at your device—he pulls that stupid move where he holds it up higher than you can reach—you practically fall into his arms trying to grab the phone, "Tabito!! Give it back!!"

"Are you serious?" He looks down at you with furrowed brows and lips pulled taut downwards. He steadies you with a hand on your shoulder, eyes narrowed sharply. "I told you not to fall for this. Didn't I tell you about what he does to girls? I told you not to talk to him!"

Before this, you've never gotten truly angry at him. Sure, you'd fight—but not even an hour later, either one of you would come back and apologise for whatever petty thing had transpired in the fight. That was just how your friendship was, and he never thought it would change.

Not until now, that is.

You look up at him with a deep frown and an angry stare—not the kittenish one that makes him laugh and ruffle your hair, but a different type of stare—where you are trying to dig knives into his skull and he thinks all the breath has been stolen from his lungs, "Why do you always do this? You always act like this whenever I try and talk to a guy—but this time, you're really acting like a fool! He's your friend, shouldn't you approve more than the past, oh I don't know, seven?!"

His wide-eyed shock is an opening for you to grab your phone back—so you do, and take a good few steps back.

I'm just... trying to look out for you... However, his thoughts go unspoken in his stupor.

Your voice is quieter now—arms folded underneath your chest and clearly avoiding his gaze, "I think you should go... Tabito. I'll talk to you later."

You murmur and walk away—with each step you take, he thinks he hears his heart shatter a little more inside his chest.

...

He slumps down on his desk with his head in his hands. He doesn't know what to do. He feels so stupid. He hadn't even realised it himself—had he really been so disapproving of all those guys that you'd stopped talking to them completely? And he didn't even know?

He feels more selfish than ever.

He feels sick, actually.

"Hey."

This voice is not one he'd like to hear right now. The source of his problems and pain—Otoya. Karasu groans and doesn't raise his gaze—his chest starts to hurt. "Go away."

He doesn't hear footsteps, so Karasu assumes he does not follow his demand. His thoughts are proven correct when Otoya speaks again, "She told me about whatever happened before."

Karasu clenches his jaw hard to stop himself from speaking. He feels like even more of a piece of shit. He just had to bring it up, didn't he? If he didn't introduce you two, this wouldn't have even happened, anyway. Maybe he should keep his lives separate next time—in whatever life he would live next.

"I know she's your friend and all, and you're super worried about her because of that—but I promise I won't do anything."

Those words make Karasu lift his gaze—tired eyes from the lack of sleep he got last night make his despair abundantly obvious. Still, Otoya's nonchalant expression that he always has plastered on his face does not budge an inch. "I promise you before, too. I won't do anything. I swear. I really like her. Like a lot. I swear, I won't hurt her. If I do, you can beat my ass, and I'll take it. So don't be petty like this, okay?"

The words don't soothe the ache in his chest.

Those words he spoke before, just before Otoya had met you—Karasu was worried about this exact scenario happening. But thinking back on it now—was he even worried about you?

He finds himself doubting it. In fact, it feels so much more natural to say that he was worried about himself. That he'd get hurt like this if this happened.

The lack of response from Karasu gives Otoya the answer he was looking for—the last thing he hears as Otoya walks away is an annoyed sigh.

Karasu is, once again, left alone in his room.

He really wants to collapse and just never wake up. He hates this.

Karasu Tabito really is a selfish man. He wants you all to himself yet never tells you—he truly is the worst man alive.

I... just want you.

That's all. That's all he knows.

His chest aches even more and he thinks his heart may just go beating out of his chest. He grits his teeth, hard, and clenches his fists over his face.

The crow in the golden cage is afraid to let go—so in such an act of desperation, it grabs onto its owner's arm—clinging and screeching before they can possibly move away.

He is selfish. You're all his heart has ever known—and you are all he wants. He thought he could wait and everything would turn out fine—but now, he sees that he was so, so wrong.

...

He'd made up his mind. He couldn't wait any longer. He had to tell you. Otherwise, these feelings would rot away in the back of his mind forever and whatever was left after that—and Karasu would die, simply unfulfilled and empty, lacking the love that is you.

The lingering stares, the small touches a bit too close to be friends, the words whispered into your ears late at night when you come to him in tears—all of that can't be for naught.

This couldn't all be for nothing.

He has to tell you. It's now, or never.

He finds himself running down the street in low-hanging pyjama pants and a black tank top—it's cold, really cold on his tanned skin—but he can hardly feel the snow pricking at his skin as his slippers make contact with the damp concrete ground.

He has to tell you.

Otherwise—

He looks around frantically for the spare key your parents keep outside your house. Underneath the potted plant. Right.

He effortlessly lifts the giant pot of aloe vera, and cracks open your door, silently—the first thing he hears is the loud blasting of corny Christmas music, and the sound of your voice laughing along to a song sung by the Whoville residents.

He has to tell you.

His breathing picks up, and he runs forward—however, Tabito is stopped in his tracks, by another voice.

It is Otoya.

If this is truly what heartbreak feels like, then Karasu Tabito is not sure why humans even bother to fall in love. Maybe it is a primal, instinctual reaction that has no logical explanation or meaning to look into—it is simply a blessing, or curse, of nature that cannot be stopped or ignored.

Love is an unexplainable thing.

It makes you feel so many strange things. Foreign, unnatural, and most of all—weird. Love is really, really weird.

It makes you wish to cry, then smile as far as you possible can. It makes your stomach twist with butterflies and makes you have the inexplicable urge to press your lips together with another person. An act of love only shown by humans. An act of love that the crow could never have.

Love makes you selfish, soft, and weak.

But love can also make you giving, tough, and strong.

Love makes Karasu Tabito walk away.

Love makes Karasu Tabito leave you, with the words silent and dead in his mouth.

Even as the cold winter air nips at his nose and he feels like his stomach is trying to collapse in on itself, Karasu Tabito still feels love. This sort of love is so inexplicably strong and all-consuming—a love that he has always felt for you.

The kind of love that will set you free.

Perhaps the crow had dug his talons too deep into its owner—and now, it was left, stuck alone in that golden cage with blood shining on its claws and silent.

Now, it must fly away.

Karasu's always looked out for you—this time, he thinks, maybe, this is the best for both of you.

You looked so happy. You've never looked that happy with him. The thought makes his heart ache and his thoughts jumble up. He stands in the snow—his loose, ungelled hair falls down his neck and snowflakes look like glitter in his deep purple hair.

He really does love you, and that's why he lets you go.

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poppy-metal · 2 months

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My sweet baby angel boy mdlb art who calls blowjobs special mommy kisses 🥺 begs for them every night before bed

OH THIS ONE GOT ME.

pulling his jammies down because of course you have to give your babyboy his kisses. sometimes you pretend to forget just so he'll jut his bottom lip out in a pout and look at you like a wounded puppy - "no special kisses?" and you tease him by leaning in and kissing the tip of his nose, which he scrunches.

"like that?" you ask and he shakes his head.

"no." his cheeks start to pinken and he shifts against the bed. wiggling his hips under the blanket you'd tucked him under. "down there." he glances down so you'll understand but because you're feeling mean you just hum and lift up his shirt - kiss his pale tummy which twitches under your lips.

"right here?" you ask.

he huffs - frowning. starts getting fussy because he's hard and he can't sleep when it's hard - reaches down to shove at his blankie until it's puddled around his knees and gently cups his bulge through his pajama bottoms.

"h-here." he says, squeezing himself to try and soothe the throbbing. "want mommies kisses here."

hes so cute. asking like a good boy. you draw his bottoms down until his pink cock bobs free and it's obscene - how large and thick he is, how he's so engorged his cock stands all on its own - making your mouth water.

"ohhhh." you breathe, and wrap one warm hand around his base - loving how he shudders at your touch, hips immediately rocking, like he's seeking more attention from you - like he's already trying to thrust inside something warm and wet. "of course, how could I forget my baby needs my special kisses."

he tastes clean and warm - like the bath he'd taken earlier- and faintly of salt from the pre beading at his tip - his toes curl and his golden head falls back as soon as your warm wet mouth sinks around him - bubblegum pink lips falling open in a moan -

you slurp loudly around him - knowing he loves when you get messy - and pet his hip as you begin to slowly bob your head up and down.

he looks down at you, tears lining his lashes, and you feel one of his hands slide into your hair, playing with the soft strands between his fingers - "mommy." he gasps. and some of his 'little boy' persona slips, you can see it just in the way his pupils are blown wide - hungry as they watch how your lips spread wide around him - can barely take him all the way down without gagging - "you're so warm - ohhh -"

you hum around him and pop off, stroking what you can't take all the way down - "you're such a growing boy," you tell him, gasping. your voice already a little ragged from taking him in - "can't even fit you all the way down my throat, baby. when did you get so big, huh? you like seeing mommy struggle to take your cock?"

you slide back down on it - laving your tongue on the underside of him as he grips your hair tighter and moans high in his throat. "uh -" he twitches in your mouth - "momma - fu - please -" he cuts off before he curses, good little boys don't use bad words - biting his bottom lip as his hips buck helplessly into your mouth, his balls drawing up. "s'good - so good - hh -"

when his cum hits the back of your throat you swallow it all languidly - gently sucking and sucking around him until his soft cock slips from between your lips.

you kiss his wet tip sweetly.

he'll be out like a light in five minutes tops.

and your wet needy pussy can be tended to by daddy when he comes home later.

#ask #tw mdlb #tw mommy kink #tw age play

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willsimpforanyone · 3 months

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what about a percabeth x reader kind of smut kind of hurt/comfort where the three are having a spicy moment (where annie and percy are doms, r is a sub) and r is gagged, but perce and annie start getting a lil too harsh and r is protesting through the gag and then just a bunch of comfort and fluff coming from beth and percy?? 🫶🏼

i can definitely do this and i will remember this time that its percABETH c'mon brain don't bluescreen this

WARNING! the reader is in distress in a sexual situation for the first couple paragraphs but percy and annabeth immediately stop once they realise, and there is no actual smut

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It's getting to a point where I'm not having as much fun as I think I should be.

I'd wanted this, I wanted to be restrained and gagged and all that, I'd asked for it, quite literally. But it was feeling... not as good as I'd hoped.

My wrists hurt in a bad way and my jaw aches from the gag in my mouth. I can't concentrate on what Percy or Annabeth are doing I'm so distracted by the now-unwanted sensory feelings.

Annabeth slaps my thigh and I make a noise of genuine pain that stops both of them in their tracks. I blink up at them, glassy-eyed and spitting muffled words through the gag. I don't want to do this anymore, I'm not having fun, this isn't what I want anymore.

They glance at each other, clearly trying to understand what happened, until Annabeth snaps into action. She snaps her fingers at Percy and points to the door. "Go, water and snacks, now."

Percy does as he's told, rushing out the room. With gentle fingers, Annabeth undoes the gag from behind my head and eases it out of my mouth with a worried, tender look.

"Hey, baby, are you okay?" She asks softly, grey eyes wide and careful.

I'm panting slightly and tears well up in my eyes, shaking my head.

It visibly looks like her heart breaks, but she focuses on untying my wrists and ankles. I curl up my slightly aching limbs, sitting up from the bed and wrapping my arms around myself.

"Can I touch you?" Annabeth asks, voice soft and slightly wobbly as if she's on the verge of tears.

I nod my head vigorously, reaching out for her and she falls onto the bed with me, gathering me up in her arms as best she can. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, pressing her lips against my head.

Percy returned with about 6 bottles of water and the entire snack basket from the kitchen. Despite myself, I laugh hoarsely. "How many people do you think are in this room?"

"I panicked!" He dumped the water and snacks onto the bed, clambering over to me and Annabeth. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Taking a deep breath, I rub a hand over my face. "I'm... I'm okay, just... it got a bit much, y'know?"

Percy takes one of my hands, kissing my knuckles affectionately and smoothing his fingers over the skin of my wrists. "Was it something we did?"

Annabeth's arms tighten protectively around me, and I feel her lips pout against my cheek. I rest my other hand on her leg, trying to be reassuring. "You didn't do anything I didn't initially want you to do, I just no longer wanted to do it," I explain quietly, looking between the two. "I'm sorry, it just felt wrong, it wasn't what I wanted anymore."

The response is a pair of shaking heads and Percy opening one of the bottles of water. "No, don't apologise," Annabeth whispers, somehow trying to get even closer to me. "Don't you dare, you did so well, telling us you wanted to stop."

Percy hands me the water, laughing slightly as he eases Annabeth's hands away from me for a moment so I can actually drink the water. "Maybe next time we either do the restraints or the gag, so it'll be easier for you to communicate?"

I pout- when I asked for both, I'd meant it, and I don't like the idea of never doing it again. Percy raises his eyebrow, looking serious for a moment. "Don't give me that look, we're going to have a conversation and come up with a solution that is good for everyone."

Annabeth reaches for a bag of crisps, opening them for me and setting them in my lap. "Drink the water, eat the snacks, all of it, I'm going to start a bath." She gestures to Percy, and they high five. "Tag in for me."

They change positions, Annabeth heading to the bathroom and Percy snuggling up to me, kissing my cheeks. "Hey, you," he hums, stroking up and down my arms. "You feeling better?"

I nod, leaning into him and popping crisps into my mouth. "Mhm, I appreciate having my limbs back."

He laughs, squeezing my middle slightly. "Limbs are good, glad you're feeling okay."

"Thank you for stopping," I say quietly, kissing his cheek warmly.

"Always," he replies, tilting my head to kiss me sweetly. "Always, baby."

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thank you for requesting, hope you liked it!

#percy x annabeth #percy x annabeth x reader #percy jackson x reader #annabeth x reader #annabeth chase x reader #percy x reader

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 3 months

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a/n: trade? what trade? brady’s a cane, always will be 😭 seriously tho, odds are pretty good that i just keep writing him as a cane bc i have no interest in having to learn the preds beyond beau and josi 🤷🏼‍♀️ had this written for a bit but never posted it bc i was yelled at during the playoffs for even thinking about the canes 🙄

tw: stomach flu, mentions of vomiting, mentions of dizziness

word count: 3.4k

summary: norovirus makes its way around the canes’ locker room and it finally takes you and brady down

Brady’s fingers are cool as they card through your hair, brushing gently against your temple and scratching lightly at your scalp. Your cheek is pressed against his thigh, smushed up so it interferes with your vision - not that you’re really focused on the TV. Comedy Central has a repeat of The Office on and above you, Brady chuckles faintly as Dwight complains about identity theft.

You roll your eyes back to cut your gaze at him and Brady’s head is resting against the back of the couch, his eyes partially shut. He’s mostly just listening to the TV.

Norovirus had swept through the Canes’ locker room, taking the players and their families out one by one - starting with Burnzie, which had led Jarvy to conclude that one of the Burns’ children had brought it home from school. As one player recovered, another was taken out. Last week had been Brett and Jordan, this week it’s yours and Brady’s turn to be down for the count. He’d come home from morning skate two days ago looking paler than usual, a greenish-grey tinge to his skin. You’d already dry heaved over breakfast that morning, thinking it was pre-period nausea.

Less than an hour later, you’d each retreated to separate bathrooms and hadn’t emerged until there was nothing left to purge. Brady had managed to text Rod, who was entirely unsurprised by the turn of events.

The next day and a half had been a blur of Instacarted Gatorade and crackers, the smell of Clorox and Lysol a permanent fixture in the house. Unfortunately, the smell of Clorox only triggered your gag reflex even more. Only this morning you’d managed to keep down more than a few spoonfuls of chicken broth.

Your stomach cramps a little and you curl your body into a tighter fetal position, turning your head to muffle your groan against Brady’s thigh. His fingers pause in your hair and he asks, “you okay, sweetheart? Need the bowl?”

“The bowl” is your combo popcorn/salad/vomit stainless steel bowl and it’s resting on the couch next to Brady, easily within arm’s reach just in case. The bowl has seen a lot of action the last two days and honestly, you’re contemplating tossing it out at the end of this. Or burning it, if stainless steel even burns. Hell, you’ll just throw it into the ocean at this point. You never want to see the bowl again.

“No,” you mumble against the fabric of his shorts, voice raspy and throat sore. “I think my stomach is eating itself.”

Brady nods his agreement and you can hear his stomach growl slightly behind your head. “Think we can manage more soup?” His fingers continue their work in your hair and it’s so soothing you find your eyelids fluttering, fighting to stay open.

“Honestly?” You nuzzle your face against his leg, tucking one hand under your cheek and the other underneath Brady’s thick thigh. “No, but you should try. You don’t want to be too weak when you get back to practicing.”

He hums and his fingers slow down, tangling gently in your hair. “Maybe ‘fter a nap,” he mumbles, head going back against the couch and body slouching a little deeper into the cushions. You can’t really argue with him - like clockwork, you’d both been with your heads in the toilet every thirty minutes. You don’t remember what a good night’s sleep feels like.

Brady falls asleep quickly, his hand covering the side of your head like a mask. The dogs pad into the den, semi left to their own devices the last two days and you feel bad about it. Reese settles on top of Brady’s feet, curling into a little ball and letting his tail swish along the floor while he looks up at you with big brown puppy eyes that bear a striking resemblance to your boyfriend’s.

“Sorry, pup,” you murmur, reaching out to scratch his head. “We’ve been bad pet parents, huh?”

He lets out a little whine that you take to be golden retriever for ‘yeah, mom, you guys suck lately.’

Sully hops up on the couch and wedges his body between your back and the back of the couch, a warm, solid presence. His nose presses against your shoulder and you wiggle forward a little to make more room for the big dog. Neither of them are supposed to be on the furniture, but you have no energy to shove him off.

“Just for today,” you warn him in a rasp. “Back to the floor with you tomorrow.”

Sully yawns, tongue lolling out of his mouth, showing just how much he cares about your proclamation.

With a soft scoff of your breath, you roll your eyes and keep them shut, pressing your face more solidly against Brady’s thigh. The muscle twitches under your cheek and you blink slowly. Soon enough, the combination of the low volume of the TV, Brady’s gentle snores, and the dogs’ soft breathing lulls you to sleep.

You wake with a jolt, your mouth filling with saliva and your stomach lurching. Sully’s draped over your legs and you don’t think, panic flooding your senses. Clamping your lips together tightly, you lunge over Brady’s lap and grab for the bowl, heaving into it. You empty the minimal contents of your stomach into the bowl, feeling Brady’s legs move under your torso. His hand fists in your hair, pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail so it stays out of your way.

“Okay, there you go,” Brady’s voice is low and soothing, his other hand rubbing circles on your back as you spit into the bowl. After a moment, nothing is coming up anymore and you groan, easing back carefully onto your knees.

Brady squints at you. “You okay?”

“I love your teammates,” you groan. “But I could kill every single one of them.”

Your boyfriend laughs and then winces when his stomach muscles tense. “Fuck, this shit really is no joke,” he mutters, stretching his arms over his head.

Your mouth tastes disgusting and your entire body hurts from heaving. On shaky legs, you carefully step off the couch, snatching the bowl and padding slowly into the bathroom to get clean it out. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror over the sink and wince. Dark purple circles under your eyes highlight just how pale you look. Little red pinpricks of broken blood vessels are scattered over your cheeks like freckles and your hair is a matted, knotted mess in a limp bun on the side of your head.

“Ugh,” you mutter to your reflection, honestly surprised that you look so awful. You’d been avoiding mirrors as much as possible. You rinse out the bowl and douse it with Clorox, leaving it in the bathtub for now, before rinsing your mouth twice with Listerine and brushing your hair back into a semi-decent ponytail. This bathroom’s going to need a major disinfecting too.

Add it to the list.

Brady’s in the kitchen when you leave the bathroom, his body hidden behind the open fridge door. Both dogs are at his feet, circling his legs like he’s about to drop some food for them. He pulls back and shuts the door, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head and a wan look on his face.

“Nothing looks appetizing,” he explains, leaning a shoulder against the fridge.

You slump over the kitchen island, one arm folded between the granite and your chest. Reese lopes over to you, brushing his head against your thigh and you reach down to scratch behind his ears. “What, blue Gatorade and saltines lose their appeal on the third day?” You joke, tucking your chin into the stretched out neck of your ancient crewneck.

Brady’s lips twist up in a small smile. “I would kill for the ability to keep something else down,” he scrubs a hand over his face, dragging his skin down on the second pass.

“We could try the golden diet,” your head feels so heavy, so you prop your chin up on your palm and look over at Brady. He lifts an eyebrow and you continue, “plain boiled chicken breast and rice.”

Both dogs bark, excited, and you wince at the noise and how it feels like an ice pick in your brain.

“I’d rather not feel like one of the dogs,” Brady laughs faintly. Almost immediately, he clamps his lips together and freezes in place, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows harshly. He doesn’t make a move for the bathroom and you wait another moment before it passes and he frowns. “Sorry,” he mumbles, “thought I might have to make a run for it.”

“I could try and make some more soup,” you suggest, your stomach rumbling a little. You honestly have no idea if you’re actually hungry or if you’re going to have to run off again. Reese butts your thigh with his head and you sigh down at him. “I feel bad that these guys haven’t been getting as much outside time.”

“How do you feel about a short w-a-l-k?” Brady spells out the word because the dogs will go insane otherwise and it always makes you giggle a little.

You hum and skirt around the island so you can wrap your arms around Brady’s waist and bury your face into his chest. His arms come around your back, warm and strong. “Not great,” you mumble into the fabric of his sweatshirt. “But maybe some fresh air and sun will do us some good?”

He nods, chin bumping the top of your head. “A short one, like two blocks,” he suggests. “And then right back to the couch.”

Agreeing, you give Brady a little squeeze around the waist before reluctantly pulling away. You clap and grin down at the dogs, “okay, puppies, time for a little walk!”

Predictably, they go nuts, barking and jumping at you so that Brady holds his arms out to brace his hands at your lower back so you don’t fall over. He laughs a little in your ear before whistling to get the dogs to calm down. They stop barking, but they’re still bouncing around your legs and you laugh as you push past them, heading for the hall closet. It’s warm enough in Raleigh that you don’t have to change out of the thin sweats and crewneck, but you do pull on a plain black vest just so you have a pocket for your phone.

Brady clips the leashes onto both dogs’ collars and steps into a pair of slides, holding the leashes out to you so he can lock the front door. You let the dogs have some leeway with the leashes, watching them as they roll around together on the front lawn. It’s bright and sunny and you squint even behind your sunglasses.

“Has it been this bright out all week?” Brady asks, taking a leash in one hand and lacing his fingers with yours. He still has the hood up on his hoodie and when you look up at him, all you can see is the side profile of his nose and chin. His nose wrinkles up and you can’t help but mimic the expression.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you sigh, starting to walk down to the sidewalk. You feel like a baby deer, all wobbly legged and weak, but the breeze is nice and you have to admit that it feels good to not be breathing in Lysol scented air.

The dogs tug at their leashes and you give them more leeway, walking slowly down the sidewalk. Brady’s thumb rubs over the backs of your fingers, your linked hands swinging slightly between your bodies as you walk. It’s quiet in the neighborhood since it’s the middle of the day on a Wednesday and you savor the peace.

Your stomach cramps a little and you lean into Brady’s side as you walk, huffing a frustrated breath through your nose. “When I get my hands on Jagger…” you trail off the threat, ruining the effect with a little laugh. You’re on board with Jarvy’s theory about patient zero for the Great Norovirus Crisis.

Brady’s laugh wraps around you like a hug and trails off into a brief cough as he catches his breath. “You and Svechy, beefing with a middle schooler,” he shakes his head, sounding a little breathless.

“For valid reasons,” you grumble, stumbling a little when Reese pulls on his leash. Brady’s fingers tighten around yours and you manage to keep your footing, but your heart pounds in your chest and you suck in a startled breath. Your head spins a little and you close your eyes to stave off the lingering nausea from your stomach lurching.

Brady’s hand is warm in your own and he squeezes your fingers to draw your attention. “Ready to go back home?” He asks, a concerned frown turning his lips downward. You nod and Brady whistles for the dogs.

It’s been the world’s shortest walk, just two blocks away from the house, but your head is throbbing and you’re feeling lightheaded. Brady still looks pale too, his jaw tight as if he’s trying not to vomit. He rubs the tips of his index and middle fingers against the space between his eyebrows and you know he’s probably developing the same headache you’ve got pinching your brain.

“I think we pushed it enough for today,” you murmur, tugging on the leash so Reese will come back from where he’s sniffing at a patch of flowers at the base of a tree.

Brady nods and he looks a little better after his pause. He leans in and kisses your forehead, where you can feel his lips turn down in another frown. “You feel kind of warm, sweetheart,” he says.

You tug at the neck of your sweatshirt and shrug. “Probably just a little overheated,” you start back towards the house. “I’m going to put shorts on when we get back, I think.” Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you pull it out, reading the texts on the screen as Brady talks.

“I think we need some lunch too,” Brady says, digging his phone out of the pocket on his hoodie. “I’ll order something. Even if we can’t manage all of it, we probably need something with protein.”

“No need,” you laugh a little, waving your phone in his direction. “Amy felt bad we caught the plague from Brett, she dropped off chicken noodle soup and fresh sourdough.”

Brady grins and pumps his fist, making you laugh even more. “Oh hell yes. I think I’ll be able to manage that,” he unclips the leashes from the dogs’ collars and lets them into your backyard, closing the gate behind them before following you up to the front porch. You cradle the giant brown paper bag in your arms like a baby.

“It’s still warm,” you sigh happily, wiggling your shoulders a little. “I love Amy, god, she’s the best.”

You kick off your slides and head into the kitchen, getting lunch ready while Brady pulls open the back door so the dogs can traipse in and out of the house. They’re both barking up a storm while they roll around on the lawn, so you figure you might actually have a minute to eat in peace. Brady reaches around you to pick a piece of the crust off the loaf of bread, popping it into his mouth with a happy little noise. You laugh a little under your breath at how adorable he is and finish divvying up the soup into bowls.

“Bigger bowl is yours,” you tilt your head and Brady sets a glass of ginger ale in front of you, tugging lightly on the end of your ponytail as he withdraws his hand. You lean lightly back against his chest, bumping your head against his collarbone and Brady dips his chin to kiss your forehead.

“Still a little warm,” he murmurs against your skin.

You shrug, “I’ll take another Tylenol and sleep in the guest room, just in case.”

Brady snorts and drapes one arm over your shoulder to hold you in place since you’re leaning heavily into him. “Sweetheart, if you’ve got a fever, I’ve probably got a fever. The house is germ central,” he rips a piece of bread off the loaf with his other hand and tosses it into his mouth. Around the mouthful, he continues, “no use in separating now.”

You’re not about to argue with him because you’re feeling clingy and needy, desperate for the comfort of Brady at your side while you’re recovering. So you nod and reluctantly let him step to the side to eat.

Amy’s soup is probably magic because you both manage to polish off your bowls, with Brady going back for seconds, and a few hours later, nothing threatens to reappear.

You and Brady spend the rest of the afternoon lazing around, disinfecting the house, and just generally relaxing in preparation for return to normal. You’re planning on working remotely, easing back into your inbox after three days away. Brady will see how he’s feeling, if he’ll go to practice. But for now, Brady sits on the floor, his back against the couch, and tosses tennis balls for the dogs to chase after and fetch.

“Please don’t hit the glass,” you sigh, sprawled out on your side on the couch, one hand propped up under your head and the other working its way through Brady’s hair, a mirror of Brady’s actions earlier in the day. The salt and peppered strands are soft under your fingers and you can’t resist tugging gently, just to get a reaction out of your boyfriend.

He groans low in the back of his throat, the noise sending a little wave of heat through your body. “I was a quarterback, sweetheart,” Brady grumbles, affectionate teasing laced throughout his tone. “I never miss my target.”

Sully comes bounding back with the tennis ball clamped in his jaw and Brady wrestles it away from the dog with a laugh, sending the tennis ball flying through the air and out through the open French doors. You can see it land with a little bounce in the grass before Sully pounces on it. Reese jumps on his brother and they roll around in the grass for a bit.

“Cocky, former quarterback Brady is my favorite version of you,” you tease, scratching your nails against his scalp.

He laughs and reaches back to rub a hand over the top of your head. You curl up a little, bringing your knees closer to your chest and Brady’s head by default. He shifts, turning to the side so he can look at you and wedge his hand in between your knees, fingers curling around the back of your thigh. Your hand falls from his hair, coming down to rest on his shoulder, fingers dipping beneath the collar of his shirt to brush against warm skin.

Brady’s head tilts to the side, cheek coming to rest on the edge of the couch cushion, trapping your hand. You flutter your fingers against his collarbone, smiling softly. His lips curl up too, lifting his cheeks and crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“Whatcha thinking, Mr. Skjei?” You ask quietly. “I can see your gears turning.”

“Nothing really,” he replies, tickling the back of your knee lightly. You squirm and press your knees together, squishing his fingers to try and get him to stop. “Just…been nice to relax with you.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, a skeptical smirk on your lips. “Norovirus was relaxing?”

“Well,” he snorts a laugh through his nose, “the last few hours were relaxing anyway.” He presses a kiss against the back of your wrist and brushes his nose against your skin.

A little shiver races down your spine, warm love for Brady flooding your entire body. He keeps his cheek pressed to the back of your hand and taps the back of your knee. “Think I can rejoin you in bed tonight?” He asks, breath warm against your skin.

“I’d really like that,” you grin, having missed his body curled around yours. Decamping to separate bedrooms had been a protective measure over the last few days since every time you heard Brady gag, you’d gone and puked.

The dogs traipse back inside and Brady shifts so he can stand and close the door, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth as he goes. Tomorrow the routine will go back to normal, but when Brady comes back and lifts your legs to sit on the couch next to you, your legs draped over his lap and your ass pressed against the outside of his thigh, you soak up the quiet moment in your little bubble.

#brady skjei #brady skjei x reader #brady skjei fic #brady skjei x you #nhl fic

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ddejavvu · 2 years

Note

so um hi!! i have like this stupid thought and i need to spread it lmao 💀💀 so basically let's say reader is trying to quit cigarettes/vapes ( possibly lets make it modern lol) cause you know its bad and she has like this urge to constantly touch her lips (i saw on tiktok that there is this psychological thing that things touching your lips send postive signals to your brain but its from tiktok so i dont think its valid information lol) but back to the point- so eddie being a loving boyfriend he is to help her with her addiction basically told her to just suck him off every time she gets the urge to smoke

god fuck this is a good idea-

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Eddie glances sideways at you from his spot on the couch, seeing your finger between your lips. You're gnawing at the nail which, like your others, are raw.

"Hey," He chides, reaching out to swat your hand away from your mouth, "Get that outta there."

"Eddie," You whine, crocodile tears lining your eyes, "I need something in my mouth! My nail's the best I've got."

He sympathizes with you, he really does. He'd only quit smoking because of the younger kids he hangs out with, after Dustin developed a chest cough he refrained from smoking around him. The rest was easy, once he'd started cutting back it wasn't hard to continue until he didn't crave any nicotine at all.

"I know it's hard," He flicks pause on the remote, lolling his head to the side to face you, "Why don't you get some candy or something?"

You shake your head vehemently, "No, no, food won't work. I need something, like, solid. Permanent. It's about my lips, not my mouth."

He has an idea. He feels like a children's cartoon, brows dipping and eyes narrowing, lips curling into a smirk. You notice the expression and stall, quirking one of your own brows up.

"Eddie...?"

"Get on your knees."

He relishes the reveal, the reality of his idea hitting you like a ton of bricks. Your mouth drops open and it only makes him tease you more, 'That's the idea.'

"Eddie," You follow his orders, sliding tentatively off the couch and landing on your knees, "'You sure?"

"Why would I say no?" He snickers, fingers already prying at his jeans to unfurl the zipper, "Go ahead, sweetheart."

You reach for his boxers, lightly palming him over the fabric. He relaxes his posture, eyes locked onto your kneeling form. It doesn't take him long to stiffen, between your touch and the view he has.

You can't help but chuckle, "You're excited."

"You need my dick in your mouth or else you'll start biting your fingers off," Eddie sneers, sensitive not only to touch but to teasing, "Don't insult me."

"Sor-ry," You huff, dipping your neck to kitten lick at the head of his cock, "I didn't even ask for this, y'know. You were the one who-"

Eddie jerks his hips upwards, cutting you off by jamming his cock between your lips. He doesn't hit the back of your throat but you gag all the same, eyes widening as tears well in your waterline.

"Desperate and mouthy," Eddie drawls, condescending grin on his face, "Get your fix, babe, 'cause if you keep talking back I'll zip up."

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braineater444 · 7 months

Text

To Be a Princess

Chapter 2

Start/Next

fem!reader x kokonoi/bonten

TW: Disordered eating, sex trafficking, drugging, violence, cannibalism, gore, heavy drinking, terrible vibes, vomit, misogyny

Your silk pajamas are soaked in sticky, wet, congealed red. You’re in Hajime’s office again, but this time the man’s lifeless body is on the floor in front of you.

A strange feeling makes its way up your spine. You have everything to do with this. Now you have to repent.

“I’m sorry.” You say over the corpse. Your eyes fill with tears, but there’s no use crying. This is the bed that you made. You must lie in it.

Bloodied shaking hands lift his head to your mouth. He’s so much lighter than a dead man should be.

“You’re pitiful. Pathetic.” Your mother’s voice rings out from behind you, but when you turn, she’s nowhere to be found. “Do it. Clean your mess.”

Who are you to disrespect your mother? When have you ever had the nerve?

The flesh of the human cheek is easier to bite through than you’d imagined. Soft. Supple. Wet. Cold. This is the only way to make up for your crime. You must consume all of him.

You chew and chew and chew. It won’t go down. You try to swallow again and again. Your mother’s screams of horror ring out from behind you, and suddenly you’re able to swallow. You gag and heave, but you’re okay.

You go back in. Same cheek, but this time, your tongue slips between meat, teeth, and gums. Blood washes over your tongue before you rip through another piece of his flesh. Only this time, he screams.

His eyes are wide open, and his horrified screams mix with that of your mothers. You back away on the palms of your hands and the balls of your feet.

“I’m sorry!”

He still yells. Your mother tells you that you are not.

“I said I’m sorry!”

The agonized screams continue.

You repeat it over and over. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please! I don’t understand what’s happening. I’m sorry!” You yell back. You’re breathless. This feels like running a marathon.

✮✮✮

Your body jerks awake, and you’re greeted by the sight of Hajime’s concerned face looming over you. He rests a soft hand on your cheek and your body stiffens.

“There’s no need to cry.” His thumbs glide under your tear-filled eyes. His words are muttered. “It’s just a bad dream.”

You nod. He plants a kiss on your cheek and pats your head. “Go back to sleep.”

It’s hard to do as he says.

You turn your body away from him, trying to settle in under the covers, but it’s too hot. You throw the blanket off of yourself and curl into the fetal position. You can feel the metal on your ankle getting colder the longer it’s exposed to the frigid bedroom air. Now it’s too cold. You sit up.

Hajime taps away at the keyboard of his laptop. He stops for a moment, then starts again. You yank at the chain of handcuffs on your ankle. It clangs against the bed frame it’s binding you to. The typing stops.

“Don’t start this again.”

“I have to pee.”

Your words are met with a sigh and Hajime closes the laptop. You watch silently as he picks up the key off of his dresser, opens the curtains, and walks to your side of the bed. His black silk pajamas glimmer in the sunlight as he kneels in front of you.

You present your chained leg to him. His hands glide across the smooth skin of your leg. His fingertips are frigid, but you have nothing to say about it. Why would you? He doesn’t care about your discomfort despite how much he feigns concern. He kidnapped you. His lips graze the skin of your shin before he plants a gentle kiss.

“I love you.” He smiles up at you.

A bitterness fills you as you say it back. The last time you refused to speak, he didn’t let you go. That was yesterday and since having to sit in soiled bed sheets for a whole day while he was out, you’ve learned better.

✮✮✮

Hajime doesn’t give you alone time anymore. Your morning piss is an affair for both of you. So is the bath.

It used to be fun when you bathed together, but in the three days since he’s taken away your autonomy, it’s morphed into a new hurdle to jump every morning and night. Today’s appeal is more of the same.

He sticks his hand under the faucet to check the water’s temperature and turns the knob to make it hotter.

“What was that nightmare about?” He asks as you watch him through the bathroom mirror.

There’s a beat of silence before you remember what he’s talking about.

“You.”

He chuckles. “What do you mean?”

“This bathing together thing. I had a nightmare about it.”

The water stops. You turn to see a tub full of bubbles.

“Why lie? Just say you don’t want to tell me.”

“I just want to bathe it alone.”

“No.” He comes toward you and unbuttons your pajama top. “Maybe one day, but not today.”

“Hajime..” He slides your shirt off of your shoulders and you watch as it hits the ground. “Why?”

“Why what?” He works down your pants and underwear.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?”

“Why would I? I told you; I love you.”

Hand in hand, he guides you to the tub. Your feet cut through a thick layer of bubbles before hitting nice warm water.

This isn't love, and since you've been taken hostage, you're not sure it ever was, but this is the first time he's behaved in this manner.

He cleans you thoroughly but gently. Expert fingers scrub at your scalp, then wash your face, and everywhere else. When his hands touch your private areas, you are quick to startle only for him to smile and say nothing. Really, he hasn’t done anything more invasive than washing you in the days you’ve been here. You’d like to say you know he wouldn’t do something worse, but you can never know for sure anymore.

“Face mask?” He asks at the end, wrapping you in a towel. You shake your head. “Are you hungry?” You shake your head. “I think you should eat something today.”

“I don’t want to.” You shiver in your towel.

“You should. We have somewhere to be tonight.”

“We?”

“It’s a club, so I thought you should come. You can meet my friends and have a good time.”

✮✮✮

You lay silent on the bed, chained up and waiting for Hajime to get back. He’s been gone since the afternoon and now the sun is going down. Hopefully, he’s dead. Hopefully, his line of work has caught up to him and someone killed him. And if he’s dead, someone can find you trapped here and free you, or maybe they won’t. Maybe you don’t deserve it. After all, you didn’t tell anyone what he did. You’re complicit. Why should you be saved?

“I’m sorry.” This is the first thing he says when he walks through the bedroom door. “It’s eight-thirty-six. I should’ve had you ready an hour ago.”

Hajime stops in his tracks as he looks at the bedside table. All the food he left remains untouched. The strawberries he’s cut, the sandwiches he’s made, the protein bar, the plain white rice… all untouched.

“Why are you not eating?”

It’s your hunger strike. You’ll thin out until you die if he doesn’t let you go. “Because I don’t want to be here.”

A look of frustration passes over his features for a brief, easily missed second. He smiles and leans down to you. “If you don’t eat, you’re not going. This could be your last chance ever to get out of here. Do you want to miss it?”

You return his gaze with your own hardened stare. He lets you hold the silence for a moment, with an unflinching, deceptively kind smile. “One bite of everything and I will dress you and we can go.”

He’s right. This could be your last chance to escape. This time, when you do, you’ll go to the police and turn yourself in. Will he come get you from them? Probably not.

He watches with a grin as you begrudgingly take one bite of everything. When you’re done, he dresses you.

✮✮✮

You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you do feel beautiful. The black mink fur coat flows down to your ankles and creates warmth in what is an otherwise skimpy outfit. The black sequined skirt and leopard print bustier offer little comfort but an undeniable amount of glamour. Your diamond studs match your diamond choker and the messy updo Hajime tried his best to make perfect doesn’t suffocate them.

Stepping outside like this isn’t like you. Especially because the heels he’s given you aren’t broken in. You’ve never worn these and they hurt. Surely, you’re ditching them when you make a break for it.

As you follow him into the club, the smell of sweat and mixed perfume replaces the crisp outside air on your face. As Hajime guides you through the crowd, a hand on the small of your back, dancing bodies part like the Red Sea. People smile and greet him with curious looks. Certainly, they wonder who you are. He explains nothing, just greets people back politely. How often does he come here?

Right past the private sections, there’s a door and behind that door is a well-decorated room. In that room, there are unfamiliar faces and Takeomi. Your abductor takes his time introducing them to you.

Mikey, you’ve seen his face on the news. This is Hajime’s boss. This is the guy that wakes him up at the ass crack of dawn to do paperwork. This frail, white-haired freak is who’s in charge. He hardly acknowledges you outside of a glance before bringing a beer bottle to his lips.

Haruchiyo has pink hair and pink eyelashes. More importantly, he’s got huge diamond-shaped scars on his lips and a tattoo on his arm that matches the one on Hajime’s scalp. He smiles, not in a polite way, but one that triggers your fight or flight.

Takeomi, you’ve met before. He nods to you. You wonder if he has a gun you can use right now. Do they all have guns? What are your chances of survival?

Rindou and Ran are brothers, with matching purple and lavender hair and with the same hanafuda tattoo sitting front and center on their necks. The same tattoo that Sanzu and Hajime have. Ultimately, you feel stupid as you realize that it’s their symbol for their little gang and it’s been sitting in plain sight your entire relationship. A wave of internal embarrassment rolls over you. Idiot.

Kanji is clean-cut with slicked-back, greying hair. He pays you no mind as he lights a cigarette and leans back into his corner seat.

Finally, Kakucho has thick black hair that doesn’t quite cover the scar that wraps around his head and through his left eye. Can he see? Not that he deserves to. Not doing work like this.

After he’s done introducing you, someone, the pink-haired one, speaks up. “You’re not gay?” Lips parted and brows pinching together in confusion. There are snickers around the room, and the longer-haired brother hides his laugh by leaning on his brother’s shoulder. “Not in a rude way. I’m just asking because I thought you were bring- “

“Haruchiyo.” Takeomi pipes up sternly. It’s a bit ironic, you think.

Hajime doesn’t give a response. Instead, he says, “You know what I’m here to do, so please get out.”

Everyone moves quickly to get out. You even hear someone huff out a “finally.” But before you can make sense of what’s going on, Hajime asserts that one of them has to watch you, and then he tells you to have fun.

A hand grabs yours and you’re being dragged to the bar before you can gain your bearings. The pink-haired one. Haruchiyo. He wants you to drink with him?

“What’s your name again?” He smiles.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right. I’m just gonna call you ‘Girl’, m’kay?”

You look around with half a mind to argue, but with the blaring music and flashing lights, who wants to? You shrug.

“Take shots with me.” His smile is so earnest.

“I can’t.”

“Somewhere to be?” He gestures with his chin toward the exit behind you. A beat of silence falls between you as his smile threatens to pull apart his scars and then his face.

“Can I tell you something?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s leaning in close enough for you to hear his lowered voice over all the commotion. “You’re not getting out of here. There’s nowhere you can run where we won’t find you, and none of us are just going to let you go that easily.”

He pulls back to see the horror on your face. That smile brightens.

Half of you wants to ask why. This has nothing to do with them. The other half wants to see if he’s telling the truth. Still, you remain, frozen on your barstool, making a face with your expensive fur coat on.

“Drink with me. You’ll have more fun.”

You do as he says.

The shots come in one after another. Not once do you see him pay? You only watch hazily as he leans over the counter, beams at the bartender, and asks for another round for the both of you.

“You might think that we hate women…” He laughs to himself as he hands you another shot. “But I hired her.” He points at the bartender. “And in many ways, I’m like a woman, too.” But he never elaborates. Just rubs your shoulder as you throw your drink back.

✮✮✮

You don’t know how many shots you take, but it’s enough to have you barefoot on the dancefloor with him. For a while, it’s like you’re there alone. The world looks so beautiful inside the club and the sweat is starting to smell sweet. You’re just moving and embracing the faux freedom you have right now.

You back your glistening body into Haruchiyo’s front. His arms wrap around your waist and you roll your head onto his shoulder. You sway.

“This is so much better than being stuck in that room,” you hum.

“He locks you in the bedroom?” He asks. You can feel his voice come from his chest as he chuckles. You nod with a dumb smile.

“Haruchiyo…” You are dizzy as the lights change. He hums. “I feel sick.”

He laughs. Fully laughs. And you do too.

“I’m gonna throw up.”

Before you know it, he’s gently guiding you through the crowd and you’re barely there for it. It all feels like floating until your bare feet are met with cold concrete and harsh rocks.

You must be outside of the back of the building. You meet the brothers there, smoking. The taller one pipes up first.

“Haru, you got anything?”

“Haru.” You repeat under your breath and giggle at yourself. He’s got a pretty name.

“Not on me. Wanna come to my car?”

You think they’re having a secret staring contest when Haru offers to go to his car. The tall man is almost smiling, and Haru is.

“Ran…” he says sweetly.

Ran.

The taller one, Ran, takes one last drag from his cigarette before dropping it and smothering it with the toe of his boot. “Rindou, please watch her. He drugged her.” He smiles without breaking eyes with Sanzu. You look between them, only to see they’ve both got shit-eating grins plastered across their face.

“You drugged me?” You look at Haruchiyo. He pays you no mind. When?

He lets you go and as you fall, Rin catches you. He lets you rest your weight against his body.

“Where are her shoes?” Rindou pipes up.

“I’ll find them later.”

Then you’re stuck with Rindou. Whoever he is.

It’s a little humiliating leaning against a man you don’t know because you can hardly stand on your own two feet. Rindou doesn’t seem to mind, though. He stands back to the wall as he smokes his cigarette.

When you try to push yourself off of him, his free hand comes to your back to push you back down. He breaks the silence with a stern voice telling you to stay.

You’re overheating, and you’ve got to go.

The next time, he doesn’t push you back down. He lets you stand on shaky legs and watches as you shrug your coat off and onto the ground.

“Where are you going?” He asks. His cigarette is gone.

“Fu-ucking leaving.” You hiccup. Your stomach growls.

“To where?” There’s amusement in his voice.

“Shut up.”

Even through blurred vision, you can see him frown. He’s messing with you.

You hobble your way back through the door you came out of. The lights on the inside are so… bright. Brighter than before. Sickening. They’re doing this on purpose.

You’re pushed around as you try to make your way through the crowd. Your stomach is rolling around inside you.

“Move.” You say to random people. They don’t hear you. They don’t care.

It’s so fucking hot inside this place. You just want out.

When you make it outside, you pause for a moment to feel the cool air. Spit fills your mouth and dribbles down your chin. Your arm comes up to wipe it away.

You don’t know which way to walk. A phone would be nice, but it’s okay. You can make it work. You can find someone with a phone later. The streets are devoid of people right now, save for a few cars driving by.

You choose a direction and walk. Stumble.

“You’re not gonna make it far on whatever he gave you.” His voice is loud and clear. It’s almost like he caused you to fall.

Your knees scrape the concrete, enough to hurt without drawing blood. You stay there, hunched over on the ground as you hear him approaching.

Rindou crouches in front of you. He smells wonderful even after a cigarette. Warm vanilla and a field of flowers. He carries your abandoned coat with him.

“You’re so cute. Like the girls I had crushes on when I was a boy. But they weren’t real.” He lifts your chin in his hand while saying it. “You are. You’re beautiful and determined and so real. It’s really hot. Especially ‘cause what you’re doing is useless.”

“Leave me alone.” Your lips quiver.

“I can’t.” That frown from earlier…it’s just his face. “I’m not going to be the one getting blamed for leaving you passed out on the sidewalk and vulnerable to all types of things.” He strokes your cheek and kisses your sweat-covered forehead.

“Are you gonna-” Tears skitter down your cheeks. “Please don’t tell him. I don’t- I can’t-” His eyes light up and there’s almost a smile showing. “I can’t be locked in that room anymore. Please. Please. Please don’t tell him.”

“I won’t tell, I promise.”

✮✮✮

Rindou waits outside the door as you vomit in the bathroom. No one is in here with you and it’s the cleanest club bathroom you’ve ever seen. Or maybe you’re just that out of it.

The sound of what is mostly bile and alcohol hitting the toilet water is sickening. It even splashes on the seat, narrowly avoiding your face. The smell is vile.

When you’re done, your stomach growls as you make your way to the sink. You’re so hungry it hurts, but if you eat, he’ll have won.

Your stud earrings have become entangled in loose strands of your hair. You take them out and admire how they glimmer under the dim bathroom light in your hand.

Are diamonds edible? You wonder. If you eat them, you’re getting back at him in a way, right? Dissolving his money in stomach acid.

You break the pointed back off of one. It’ll be harder to swallow with it on. Then you do the same with the other. They’re no longer accessories, just useless five-millimeter studs.

Hajime would say you look a mess without them. He says that even women as beautiful as you need accessories. Surely, all this jewelry he puts on you is just his form of branding.

You pop the diamonds into your mouth. Your first thought is to chew; mash them up and make them digestible. It hurts your teeth to try to bite through. It startles you how painful the attempt to crack them was. It startles you enough that you accidentally swallow them whole.

You make a face to yourself in the mirror. Eyes blown, mascara smeared, lipstick smudged. Your heart is racing. It kind of felt… good? What the fuck?

✮✮✮

You rinse your mouth with vodka. A bottle Rindou took from behind the bar. Not that you want to drink anything else they give you.

You’re back behind the club and Rindou doesn’t seem set on getting you even more drunk or high. You’re feeling invincible after swallowing those earrings.

What else could you do to get back at Hajime?

“Do you want to have sex right now?” You pass the bottle back to Rindou.

“No.” He says without thought or hesitation. “Not really. I’m not like that.”

“Like what?”

“A home wrecker.”

“Shut up.” Hajime is not your boyfriend. You guys are not together.

“Sorry.” He takes a big swig. “I’m also not into whatever revenge plot you’re trying to hatch.” He smiles politely. He really looks like his brother. Sad eyed and well dressed.

“It’s not revenge. You said I’m cute.” You move closer to him and your hand creeps to his forearm.

He turns his head up and sighs. “He’s made a pleasant life for you. Why can’t you just accept it?”

“Fuck off.”

When he looks back at you, his lips part, he thinks and closes them. Then they come open again.

“I’ll tell you something, okay?” Rindou huffs. “A while ago, there was this girl… maybe a little younger than you. A hooker who worked out of one of our brothels. She looked okay.”

He pauses in thought. Your hand slides off of his forearm.

“She ran away once, with a lot of money. When Mochi brought her back, she was so full of vengeance.” He chuckles. “Koko was pissed. Kicked that girl’s teeth in. Locked her in a closet, and only fed her rice and chicken once a day. It was bad. He told Sanzu to pull her nails out. Tortured her for like two months.”

His brows furrow, and he gets quiet for a second. “Yeah, he would tell us to do terrible things to her. I don’t even know if she’s still alive. I haven’t been back since.” He scratches his head. “But, what I’m saying is, Koko’s a cruel guy and you’re lucky he likes you.”

It’s shameful to think you didn’t know. To think some women have suffered at the hands of the man who makes you comfortable. For the longest time, you were oblivious. You’re an idiot.

“You’re lying.” You say, because he must be. This couldn’t have happened under your nose.

“Look at the situation you’re in. Is it impossible?” His brows rise in question.

You’re doomed, aren’t you? “I’m just going to kill myself. You should kill yourself, too.” You take the bottle from him. It feels like fire going down your throat.

His gaze has changed when you finally look at him again. There's a sense of mischief you only catch on to when he kisses you. This time, on your mouth.

You’re not sure you want this, but you lean into it for the sake of rebellion. It’s so strange kissing someone who isn’t Hajime. Matter of fact, it's strange locking lips with someone you've just met. Rindou's lips are so soft and warm. His tongue glides languidly against yours. His hands travel from your cheek to your chin to tilt your head up, so he can savor you deeper. You both taste of alcohol.

When he pulls away, he waivers a little at the sound of a soft accidental moan leaving your lips. He grins. Suddenly, you want him back.

“Now you’ve rebelled, and you’re still stuck here. I don’t think you have the balls to kill yourself, though.” He reaches into his pocket for a cigarette. “But if you want to, you can.”

#this is the best i got bro #my neck hurts so bad #noooooo rin don't be sexyyyyy #this took forever to write #tw: violence #bonten x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tw: drugs #tw: gore #tw: disordered eating #tonights meal? Earrings.

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slashingdisneypasta · 1 year

Text

Hades x AFAB!Reader || Drabble

HELLL YES I'M USING THIS GIF.

Plot: So apparently your hot new God lover is not comfortable with the idea of using his cock on you (Apparently his cum is similar to something called... 🔥hot glue??🔥 Which does NOT sound good for your insides- ), so he improvises.

Warnings: Smut!! And, I hate this word but its the word, so- Dildo use. *sigh* 🤦‍♀️ (This word for me is what moist is for Lily Aldrin in HIMYM) Also monsterfucker themes, small gagging mention, Hades drawing out your orgasm for his own sake. Starts out gentle, gets rough.

Tagging: @disney-android-foundation , @marinerainbow , and @ryantryan6969 . I forgot to tag again! I'm so sorry! But here we go, half an hour later XD I hope you're in a Hades mood!

"Yeah," Hades' smirk is scary, sexy and sharp, looking at the... thing, he's created. "that should do it."

Your eyes are wide, and your cheeks and neck and chest are aflame from the kisses and being propped on the table with your legs parted, feet set on either arm of Hades' throne. Right where he wants you to be, caging him in. "That-... I, uh... Hades... that should do it, for- for... what?"

Its an odd thing, for sure, in his hand. Its cylindrical, thick and long with a soft, rounded tip that's slightly puffier than the rest of it. And at the other end of it theirs a wider, flatter part; A base. And the thick cylinder part is slightly... curved, too. You're not quite sure what you're looking at, though theirs definitely a thought nagging in your minds-eye, so you're just sitting there hot, breathless, exposed and baffled until Hades' takes notice.

When Hades notices your confused eyes, still clouded with the lust he built you up to already but also just... confused, his smirk becomes more devious. No longer can you see his teeth, just lips spread long, high cheekbones, narrowed eyes- and a glint.

"Oh trust me you're gonna love this handy little thing when we're done tonight- I might even let ya keep it, if I'm feeling charitable. A gift; from me to you, babe. Compliments of the house~"

"Its... well- it looks weird."

"This, doll, is an exact replica- of that thing I toldya we're not uh... using, today."

Immediately your face gets hotter, like its caught on fire. THATS what was nagging at you!! That- This thing- its a- its his-

You just called a God's manhood weird-looking. Oh n- Suddenly Hades changes his grip on it, holding the base and moving- disappearing from the throne before your eyes and reappearing again, standing tall before your far littler, mortal form. When the thing kisses your bare and already soaked hole, all thoughts vacate your mind and your hands fly to his toga; gripping the fabric in your fists.

"Trust me, eh? You're gonna love it when I'm done. Would I steer you wrong, babe?"

Dragging your eyes from the thing, up to Hades' eyes, eyes you already feel like you're falling in love with despite the short time you've been spending time together, you give it a think. Would he?

Or- more importantly, do you care? Right now you're absolutely dripping, curling your toes in anticipation of the thing stretching you out (feeling needy just at the feel of it ghosting against your slick skin), clenching Hades' toga in your fists like it'll lesson your achiness at all, and you feel so high on lust you'd do just about anything to be filled. His kisses were like a terrible drug, his tongue hot, thick and skilled teasing yours for what felt like forever, torturing you forever, until he finally attempted to reach his hand up your thigh. You're practically shaking with want. You've never felt it this bad, before. No one's ever turned you into this much an oversensitive mess before just with kissing.

To be fair though you've never been with a God, before.

After a moment you give a nod, desperate to have something fill you- rub against your clit- drag you to the edge by force. Fuck you.

"That's my favourite new plaything~ Okay, now listen,.. " You watch Hades lean down closer to you with glazed-over eyes, until he passes your lips by and you let out a sigh and drop your forehead on his shoulder, as he instead whispers hotly in your ear; "Here's the deal. You come, when I say so. I don't wanna hear any 'Hades I couldn't help it', cuz see I'm not gettin' anything outta this, am I babe?- what am I getting outta this? Nada. We're not even using my actual equipment, here. For your safety. Yah... So you're gonna have to put on a show for me, yeah? So c'mon, gimmie somethin to look back on. Be my personal pornstar."

You're already slipping away into foggy-brain mode, ready to disappear into the feeling of getting fucked, losing yourself in his voice. "Mhmm, o-kay." The smell of smoke is starting to overwhelm you, too, taking over your senses. It fills up your nose when you're this close to him, it warms your body, it leaves a barbecue-like taste on your tongue.

"Gonna haveta hear ya say it, babe. Remind me what's our deal?" The fake-cock presses against your folds, almost-almost breaching the entrance and stretching you and you give a hopeless whine.

"I'll... mm... you're missing out, so- so I'll... "

"Hmmmmm?" Hades decides to be an ass and strokes the thing up an down your folds, making it even harder for you to think. He also presses a simmering kiss to the top of your head to hide his chuckles, the bastard.

"... I'll be a p- pornstar for you... "

"That's right." Theirs a soft kind of pride in his voice that makes yours your insides squeeze, just as he slips the objects head into your pussy; beginning to massage it at a gradual pace in and out, going in deeper and deeper until the whole thing disappears in and out of your little, drippy, stretched entrance. You're gritting your teeth and pressing your forehead hard into his shoulder before you know it, feeling the throws of hot, throbbing pleasure building in you already.

While you're moaning and taking the fake cock in, the curve stretching you open and grinding perfectly against your sensitive clit (just enough to feel good but not enough to help you over the edge), Hades glides the long sharp fingers on his free hand along your thigh down to your knee- then pushes it back gently so your legs are open wider. It somehow maximises the feeling in you and you cant help the way your walls twitch around the thick, slimy instrument. How your hips roll towards it. "Hades! Hades hades hades- please please- "

"Good work, doll!, keep begging and you might just get watcha want outta me~ Maybe." His pumps get ever-so-slightly faster, filling you up more insistently, causing the sloppy suctioning sound of your tight wet cunt to get embarrassingly loud in the big empty room- making him smirk. "Sweetheart trust me you look good there... gonna be hard to talk shop here later on, if ya catch my drift. Eh?~ "

The thought of Hades communing with other gods, or the fates, or just Pain and Panic with his hand under the table pumping his leaky throbbing cock because of you flickers through your brain and makes you squeeze the toy inside you. "Hades! Hades! I- I c- I need- Please please, right there right there! I need y- ahhh," You want to reach down and touch yourself desperately, help yourself selfishly to an explosive climax around this perfect hard toy, but you behave yourself. You bite your lip and fight the urge, wanting to please him. "Faster please!! F- Faster, harder, in m- Ahh!"

Letting out a frustrated, orgasm-mad whine as the toy just continues to drive continuously into you at a moderate pace, only stimulating you enough to make you crazy with want, you decide to play with him some. Stretching slowly, you lean up to graze your lips against the heated skin of his neck. Then your tongue (The tip, then the full flatness, and then you give gentle suck~ Reminding him what you could be doing to him down there. Torturing him as bad as he's tortured you), and as your hands glide down his warm clothed chest, Hades grunts; frustrated himself as your mischievous fingers near his actual cock. "Babe, you know you're playing with fire he- "

Even through his toga, you can feel his length burning up and painfully hard. Gently stroking it, your relax down from his neck as you just weakly take the pounding in your core; delicately playing with his cock meanwhile. Sliding your hand up and down the hidden body part, which may be even thicker then the toy actually, making him twitch.

You almost lose yourself in this, the slow, torturous pleasure and the feeling of Hades' cock under your fingers. After a few moments of this, you notice the fake one shoving into you rougher, making the pressure inside you start to build up slowly so you look up at him; Eyes widening at the look on his face immediately.

With a pent-up frustrated frown at you, Hades starts to ram the damn thing into your hot, puffy walls; ripping you apart and abusing your little clit without a seconds notice. The fire on top of his head flashes orange and you know you did it. "Fine Y/N- you wanna act like a whore, okay. Trust me, I can treat you like a bitch if you want to be."

Your orgasm builds faster then before, the thick curved thing pounding into your pussy again and again at a filthy inhuman speed, fucking you hard and so rough your mouth hangs open obscenely as you press your forehead once again into Hades shoulder- hard. The heel of his hand brushes your skin every time he thrusts the toy inside your meaty walls and its a little detail that reminds you its him. Its not a soulless fucking machine. Its him. You stretch your thighs open wider to increase the feeling, unable to do much other then that but take the fucking- its just how you wanted, its better, its yanking your climax out of you desperately and selfishly.

When you're so so close, Hades makes you stretch your head backwards on your neck and kisses you again; making you gag on his long inhuman tongue for working him up like you did. You let out a strangled moan, shocked that it feels good having your ability to breath stolen from you in such a vulgar way, and stretch upwards towards him, trailing your tongue languidly against his in responce.

When he finally forces an orgasm out of you you're left twitching and shaking against Hades' chest.

"Thereee you go, that was my personal pornstar. Could use some work learning not to ever, mess with me- but for a first go I think that was pretty great. Full marks." Hades chuckles, nudging your chin upwards again - gentle this time, - to look at him. Theirs that devious smirk and those mischievous yellow eyes, looking at you like you're a tasty treat. "Now how about a smile? Maybe a 'thanks. lord of the dead, I feel fucking amazing'?"

With a tired sigh and a spent grin that turns slightly cheeky, you nod okay. "Thank you, oh lord. You did pretty good, too."

Hades' face looks thoroughly unamused at your smartass responce but in the moment with your pussy still throbbing you think its the cutest expression, ever. Then he releases your face and shrugs, an indifferent look on his face now. "Eh, well, I guess you don't want the bath I was gonna draw for ya-- fit for a god, with uh, you know, ambrosia, and stuff. Oh well, see ya next time toots- "

Oh that sounds good, damn. You look after him with sad wide eyes and frown, softly. "... a bath?" Your sweet, tired, fucked-out voice draws him right back in and his voice is gentle on his next words.

"Its in progress, sweetheart."

With that and a happy hum from you, Hades seals his lips to yours for another long, languid kiss while the bath is drawn for you.

#Disney Hades x Reader Drabble #Hades x Reader Drabble #Disney Hades #Hades #Disney Hades x Reader #Hades x Reader #Smut #Drabble #Disney Villains #Disney Villains x Reader

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i-eat-worlds · 5 months

Text

A&F Platontic Omegaverse AU

This idea manifested after a rather late night for me, and refused to leave until I wrote it. I’d be open to writing more, so if you enjoyed it, please do share.

Content: A/B/O dynamics, non-graphic medical neglect, recent past violence, medical whump, made up omegaverse medical BS that I took way to seriously, minor injuries, medic caretaker(s), and graphic depictions of anaphylaxis and allergic reactions

Eric turned out of the Wendy’s parking lot, grabbing several fries and shoveling them into his mouth. Next to him, Joseph was slurping on a chocolate frosty. He flicked on the turn signal, pulling into the left lane, when a call came in.

“It’s for us. 5067 Prince Street, apartment 134. Female omega in unpartnered heat. Neighbor called it in, said she smells sick and scared,” Joseph read from the screen.

Eric turned in the direction of the call, flipping on the lights and sirens. The sea of other vehicles parted as he accelerated down the street, speeding towards the newer apartment blocks that rose several blocks over.

“Can you get a blocker ready for me?” He asked, taking another left onto Prince Street. Joseph hummed, peeling the back o of his and pressing it onto the back of his neck over his scent glands. “Sure.”

The Prince street apartments were a newer development, meant to house the ever growing population of college students who needed a place to live. Since it was early afternoon, there was plenty of space. They grabbed the stretcher, bags piled on top of it, and headed towards the building.

It was easy to tell that the apartment number they’d been given was the right one. They could smell it from several meters away in the hallway, thick and pungent, rancid enough to make you gag if you weren’t used to it.

Hand in a fist, Joseph knocked on the door. “OEMS! We got a call for an omega in heat?”

There was a beat of silence, and the scent grew more potent. Joseph’s stomach twisted. Still no response. Behind him, Eric held up the key that had been hidden under the mat. He waited for another beat. “We’re going to come in.”

The smell was nearly overpowering as they cracked the door open. Between the apartment’s size and its sparse furnishing, it did not take long for them to locate their patient.

She was in the bathroom, half dressed and curled up on the threadbare bath mat. One eye was puy and swollen, well on its way to becoming a black eye, while the other was brimming with tears. Her mouth was hanging open, hands shaking. When she saw both of them enter the room, she inched back, a scared yelp falling out of her lips.

Joseph knelt down in front of her. “I’m Joseph, and that’s my partner Eric. What’s your name?”

“Alex.” She cringed over in pain as a cramp rolled through her.

“How are you feeling right now, Alex?” Her breaths were fast and shallow.

“Cramps are really bad, feel hot, and I’m really tired. It’s like a heat but worse.” The tears had started to dry, but she was still obviously shaken.

“I…I have a care worker but he…he…he left,” she sobbed.” He left me. He was here to give me my dose of suppressants and I was in heat so he couldn’t because I guess they stopped working for some reason…” She trailed off, trying to hold off tears.

“You’re okay, breathe for me,” he comforted. Her pulse was rabbit quick, and her skin was sweaty and warm. Behind him, Eric cracked open an oxygen tank.

“He said he didn’t want to deal with it-” She prodded at her bruised eye. “I threatened to report it and he hit me. I don’t know what to do.” Another cramp cut her off.

“We’re going to take care of you, alright?” He smiled at her, concealing the flash of anger that flared inside of them. “Do you know which suppressants you take?”

Eric looped that mask around her head. “Metip…Mecip…I don’t know how to pronounce it?”

“Mecipromide?” That was one of the more potent suppressants, and older too. It had mostly been replaced by now.

She nodded. “I don’t know how much. He alway did it.”

“Alright. Breakthrough heats aren’t rare with that. Do you take any other medications?”

She shook her head, whimpering in pain again.

“I’m going to feel your glands now, tell me if it hurts.” He reached back around to her neck, fingers pressing into the warm and swollen glands.

“Ow.” She flinched away again.

“Now for your armpits, sorry if it tickles.” They were enlarged as well.

“Czerniaks and axillaries are inflamed,” he reported to Eric before turning his attention back to Alex. “When was your last heat?”

“Three, maybe four years ago? I was eighteen or nineteen.” Her voice was shaky, fear still rolling off her.

“Aright.” That was a pretty long time to be on Mecipromide for. “Is it just your eye that’s hurt, or did you get hit in other places?”

“Just my eye.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He put up two fingers.

“Two.”

“Good.” He shifted back. “Is your vision blurry? Any dark spots?” She shook her head. “Do you remember getting hit?”

A quiet “yeah.”

“Good. Any dizziness, nausea, or head ache?” Her breathing had slowed, and she seemed to be calming.

“We’re gonna get you on the stretcher and to the hospital now, alright?”

She nodded, leaning closer towards him. “Thank you.” Slowly, she pushed up to standing, using the counter to steady herself. The stretcher was outside the door, only a few steps, but she faltered, stumbling forward.

Joseph immediately reached an arm out, catching her before she could hit the ground. She yelped, and her eyes went wide as her body ung itself around him and latched on tight. Her legs became Jello, and he was the only thing holding her up.

It was textbook erstratory comfort seeking behavior. He’d seen it plenty of times, at least once or twice a week, while working for OEMS, but Alex seemed more surprised by it. She immediately tried to pull away, but her body didn’t let her.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her head pushing into the crook of his neck.

The scent blockers prevented her from smelling what she was looking for, as did the fact that he was a beta. “It’s okay. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Her scent had changed, less bitter, more relaxed, but still worried. “I didn’t mean to, I promise.” Another cramp tore through her, and he had to support even more of her weight.

“You’re alright. I’ll help you over to the stretcher and we’ll see if you can let go then.” He kept his arms wrapped around her, mainly to keep her upright, but also because the touch was obviously soothing for her.

She groaned, nuzzling in closer as he helped her out of the bathroom. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay. It’s normal.” He slowly let her down on the edge of the stretcher. “Do you think you can let go now?”

There was a tearful “no,” as she pressed into him.

“Alright.” He was quiet for a second. “I’m going to scoot you all the back to the crease, and then Eric’s gonna help you let go.”

“Thanks.” Unconsciously, she squeezed him tighter.

Joseph kept her supported as he moved her up the stretcher, one hand supporting her head and the other holding her back. She muttered something quietly into the crook of his neck. “What was that, Alex?”

“I don’t wanna let go.” Her voice was a little louder this time. “ ‘m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Gently, he let her head down. “There's a cuddle pillow for you in the ambulance. We just gotta get you there, alright?”

“Oh…okay.” She nodded a little.

“Eric’s gonna help you let go, alright?”

Behind him, Eric started to carefully uncouple her hands, peeling her fingers off her wrists. He set them down on the stretcher, and she whimpered trying to push closer. Joseph pulled away, finally breaking contact.

Alex shrunk in on herself, another cramp ripping through her. “It ‘urts.”

“We’ll get you to the hospital, just a little longer,” he said. She reached out, wrapping a hand around the bare skin just above where his glove ended. It was clear her touch needs weren’t being met. Hopefully, the hospital would be able to set her up with a better care worker.

They put the stretcher up and pushed her to the ambulance. The scent had repelled most people, and Joseph was glad they didn’t have an audience. He locked the stretcher in place, taking a seat on her left side.

“I’m gonna get a line in while Eric gets your vitals, then we’ll get you that pillow,” he said. Her hand was still locked around his wrist, and he gently removed it so he could use her hand.

Eric clipped the pulse ox to her finger and wrapped the cuff around her upper arm while Joseph slid a 22 into her hand. She laid there, tensing up as another cramp pumpled her. “Are you allergic to anything?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Not that I know off.”

Eric rattled off her vitals, along with her weight and height, before turning around to dig out the pillow. She was warm, too warm, even for an omega in heat. Her breathing was still fast, along with her heart rate. Between that, the cramps, and the touch hunger, it seemed to be a pretty severe breakthrough estrus.

“Alex, I’m gonna give you some meds to help with your heat, alright?” He unzipped his medication bag as he spoke. “We’ll get on the road after this.”

She nodded, but was more distracted by the cuddle pillow Eric was laying beside her. Immediately, her arms and legs were wrapped around it, and exhaled as she nuzzled her face into it.

“I’m gonna get us up and moving,” Eric said as he peeled his gloves off and dropped them into the bin.

Joseph nodded, and the door closed behind him with a thunk. He quickly drew up the meds, a small dose of a mild suppressant and a synthetic hormone that would help relieve the cramps. “I’m gonna need your hand.”

She groaned, but pulled it off the pillow for him anyway. “Thank you.” He ushed the line and pushed the drugs.

Eric pulled them out of the parking lot, accelerating as he hit the main road. Alex wrapped her hand back around the pillow, curling up tighter. The pillow was helping. Her breathing and pulse had slowed, and her scent was much more relaxed. She still smelled sick, but signicantly less distressed. He made his report to the hospital, listing off the info they would need to know.

A couple minutes later, she started to scratch at her hand, picking at the Tegaderm. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but try to leave it alone. We’re only about five minutes away.”

She stopped messing with it, instead moving up higher and dragging her fingernails up and down her arm. “It itches.”

A pit opened up in his gut. This was going to be a thing now, wasn’t it? Just great. “Can I see?”

He took her arm in her hands, turning it over as he examined it. It was covered in hives. “Alex, you said you weren’t allergic to anything. Did your parents have any allergies?”

“I…uh…I don’t know. They both died when I was pretty young.” The fear had returned to her scent in full force, stinking up the back of the ambulance in the same way only it could.

“Okay. You having any diculty breathing?” Her tongue or face weren’t swollen, but he could hear each inhale and exhale.

She pulled the pillow closer. “A little.”

“I think you’re having a reaction to the meds I gave you,” he said as he drew up a syringe of epinephrine as he watched her. “I’m going to give you something to counteract it.”

Alex didn’t fight it as he took her hand in his so he could push the epi. She started to smell more frantic, her breathing speeding up. After updating the hospital and a brief chat with Eric, the sirens started to wail.

“It feels like there's something in my throat.” She said, eyes flickering around frantically. Her voice was pitched up, stress.

As he spoke, he set up his fluids. “It might take the epi a little bit to kick in. I’ve got you.”

Her expression grew more frantic, and her scent went sour, intensifying to an overpowering level. “It’s hard…It’s hard to breathe.”

“I know, I know.” He went ahead and started prepping an infusion, and upped the amount of oxygen she was receiving. “We’re nearly to the hospital. Is it getting any better?”

The epi should’ve started properly working by now, and they were only a few minutes away from the hospital. He didn’t want to stop and tube her now if he didn’t absolutely have to.

“It’s not getting worse.” She stammered, mouth hanging wide open.

“That’s good. You’re doing great.” The mass of hospital buildings was visible out of the back window. They were inches away from the ER.

She squeezed the pillow tighter, making a distressed keen. Her stats weren’t dropping and her blood pressure was holding steady. It looked like they would make it through the doors with her consciousness.

Eric turned into the parking lot and drove them up the entrance, and they wasted no time getting her into the hospital. He gave report as they transferred her from stretcher to bed, then quickly got out of the way after they weren’t needed anymore.

He’d ignored the odd pull on his heart as they left the building, chalking it up to the absolutely stink-fest the back of his rig was.

It was only ten hours later when his phone rang.

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump @painful-pooch

@rainbowsandwhumperflies @snaillamp

#worlds babbles #whump #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #medical whump #medic caretaker #tw assault #anaphylaxis #whump writing #this is a little different than normal lol #but it’s fun to write and there’s potential #hope y’all enjoy my brain garbage

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icey--stars · 2 years

Note

BABES! I just had the best thought

okay, so, hear me out,

So, Azzy and reader are in a relationship, right?

but nobody knows about, though it’s really obvious, and one day they’re out on a date or smth and Cassian like, walks into the restaurant and just see’s them and is like “wat?!👀👀” and then it’s just reader and Az trying to convince cassian not to tell the rest of the I.C.

that’s literally all I’ve been thinking about for the past like 10 minutes

okay, byeeee <333

when i tell you how much i love this idea, you would laugh at me. yES i love this. and i have no self control so im writing it. BEHOLD. god i love writing cheeky cassian. *ps ya'll, this aint count as a story, im just lettin it fall into the abyss of posts lmao

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

"How have you been doing today?" I asked, twirling my straw around in my water. I looked at the winged male in front of me, seeing his hazel eyes flash up from where they were staring at the menu.

"Today hasn't been too bad, honestly. How's yours?" Azriel replied, dropping the menu back on the table and reaching out for my hand. I smiled as he grasped it gently in his, just for that little bit of contact. It was one of the things I loved about Azriel. His need to always be touching me. And although it made our "secret" relationship really obvious to everyone else, I still couldn't help the fact my heart burst with affection every time.

"Tiring, I had stupid paperwork," I grumbled unhappily. "Paperwork is the worst."

"I agree," Azriel snorted, smiling wide.

Now, at that moment, both of our dumbasses were completely so locked into each other's eyes that we didn't see when another burly Illyrian warrior sauntered into the restaurant we were having our weekly secret date. And we didn't notice when his jaw dropped open wide after seeing us, and then starting to march over like a male on a mission.

I heard his pounding footsteps though. I looked up, fingers tightening around Azriel’s. Cassian had the most shocked look on his face. He stopped a couple feet before the table, mouth agape and looking between Az and I with swift glances.

“Cass,” I regarded, anxiety now curling in my gut. This was supposed to be a secret.

"You two-" he started.

"Cassian," Azriel growled in a warning tone. "This stays between us, got it?"

Cassian snorted. "Oh yeah, turn on the scary tone, see if it works Az. It hasn't for the last 500 years, don't think it will now. I am so telling everyone. Even if its been obvious this entire-"

"Cassian," I now growled.

"Yes?" The warrior said, a smirk planted on his face.

"Don't tell anyone."

"No," Cassian laughed.

"Please don't tell anyone?" I asked, now in a more polite tone that hid the anxiety curling in my gut. Our relationship coming forth... both me and Az were afraid it would affect the team, and the team could not under any circumstance be affected.

"Cute, but not enough." Cassian was fucking proud of how stubborn he was right now, I realized.

Azriel stood up, still shorter than the other male. "Brother, don't."

"You'll have to stop me-" Cassian cackled, backing away and toward the door.

"Gods-" I swore, standing up as well. "Cassian, get your ass back over here."

I saw a couple others at the restaurant glancing over now and winced. So I marched past Az and grabbed Cassian, dragging him forcefully back over to the table and forcing him into a seat. I saw Azriel tighten his shadows over the male's wrists against the arms of the chair.

"You will not tell anyone," Azriel growled.

"I will tell everyone," Cassian replied cheekily. "So how long has it been official? You both suck at hiding it by the way."

Azriel groaned, sitting down again and rubbing his forefinger and thumb over his eyes, frustrated. I kicked Cassian from under the table.

"Tell no one," I ordered.

"Tell everyone."

"Tell no one."

"Tell everyone."

And that... ladies and gentlemen, and my nonbinary pals... is how Cassian found himself tied to a bedpost, with a gag in his mouth, in his own room.

And Az and I both continued our dinner like nothing had happened. We acted like we hadn't just had to threaten Cassian with his biggest fear.

After all, Bryaxis was my friend.

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fanfic #talk with me #mywriting

275 notes · View notes

trashlama · 2 years

Text

YAN!FUTURE!DONNIE X READER!!

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Heeeeeeyyyyy guess whose back!

This is a part of I guess this series of one shots I got going on. →This post can explain more←

This is the image I used for Donnie in this one. ↓

Art isn't mine but the design is radical!

Sorry this took so long. Honestly I almost didn't post it cause I didn't like how it came out. Like I kept trying to fix it to how I like it buuutt, this was the best that I could do. I might try rewriting it or somethin'. I was just trying to change it up buuutt, I suck. Did my best with the proof reading. Probably could have tried to proof read it more.

Honestly this fic is pretty dark. Originally was darker.

Please no minors, 18+ only!(There's no smut or anything sexual, just a lot of technically triggering elements)

The meme in this fic is not mine I just found them on Pinterest and they were too good.

Read the creator's notes below for more!

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Humming computer fans and diligent typing filled the silent void in the poorly lit room. If not for the obscured ominous glow of the various monitors littering the labatory you would've believed you had gone completely blind. Having already lost the vision on your right to the slimy pink tentacle bastards who transformed your planet into the living Hell on Earth.

Guess religion was right about something. At The End of Days the devil came for the damned. And in spite of your mother's faithful beliefs, there was never a savior to come swop away the righteous to the selective pearly gates of the Heaven she had mindlessly prayed to. She was wrong. Her savior locked her out.

There would be no salvation. Not for anyone.

Instead for the first thirteen years after the Krrang's invasion you suffered. Everyone suffered.

Shit hit the fan and it splattered like a chocolate pie in bad clown gag.

Overnight the world you had grown up in changed for the worse. Blind to the way society crumbled and turned into a Mad Max film. Unaware of the great loss. Naive and young you weren't prepared for the grotesque violence that replaced your boring mundane life that you had taken for granted.

How you wish there was a way to go back.

Return to days where your only worries were filling out job applications to move out of your mother's abode and getting into a good college. Begging whatever deities listened to accept you to one of the variety of schools you had applied for. Preferably one more than five hundred miles away from the run-down neighborhood in the Bronx you lived in. You've always wanted to travel the country and college opened up that opportunity to do so. Had everything gone according to plan you would've started your first semester that following fall.

Though it wasn't meant to be. Instead you spent that lonely winter, grieving

" (Y/n) "

At the call of your name the chain that hung from around your neck clanked as a single (e/c) orb snapped out of its routine day-dreams to look towards the owner of the tired deep voice that had called to you. It was Donatello. Said ninja turtle kneeling at your side next to the cot you both shared.

Within the nest of sheets you retracted from the curled position you had been laying in on top of the bed spread. A multi-paterned stitched quilt gifted by one of the softshell turtle's brothers— you forget who; rested at your feet, unused. Protecting thin (skin tone) skin from the piercing cold was a worn pair of faded PJs that consisted of a dark green long sleeve with fluffy grey plaid bottoms. The odd attire didn't bother you in the slightest. When living in the apocalypse fashion hardly matters. If it was usable it was wearable.

Despite of your efforts to block the aged mutant out by focusing your lone (e/c) gaze on soothing else. The Large cold hand of Donatello's petting the top of your head was all your traumatized receptors could focus on. Three lengthy jade digits combing rouge strands of unkept (h/l) (h/c) hair away from their position in your face. Wandering fingertips skimmed over your missing right eye. Playing with the white medical eye patch that kept the old wound hidden. Had this been seven months ago you would've already been trying to bite the technological General's scared appendage off. Though now at this point you just let the mutant do whatever. You didn't care.

The same regard was held when the purple clad turtle observed you. Anything and everything that flashed across your face was cataloged by your analyzing capter's dark narrowed stare. A common occurrence that never faltered in its repetitiveness.

Exhaustion dominated the aged jade complexion of Donatello's. His expression would be read bored if not for the controlled obsession that lurked in pools of night.

You always did like his eyes. Even when they were hidden behind the dual frames perched on his snout. One half a traditional prescription lens the other a crimson infrared optic that provided extra assistance to the current wearer. Like a moth to the flame you were drawn to the night sky he held in those dark pools.

"You're wasting the food Mikey brought you" the softshell flatly chastised. Those same magnetic dark eyes that had been locked with yours turned away momentarily to retrieve something from beside him. The tattered greyish purple cloak he wore tied loosely around his sturdy shoulders draped forward revealing the silver cybertronic mechanical substitute for his left arm. A necessary loss for the cause he dutifully worked for.

You hadn't respond to his comment.

For a moment you began to sink back into your land of memories if it had not been for the scrapping metal of the fork against the plate that was now in the purple bandana wearing turtle's grasp. Stabbing at the rations that the commissary passed out earlier that day. At least you're assuming it's day. It's hard to tell when you never leave the underground base, let alone the prison of Donatello's lab that doubled as his quarters.

Back in reality something moist pressed against your bottom lip.

"Eat."

Robotically you obeyed.

You learned a long time ago that starving doesn't work. It was this or the feeding tub. At least this didn't hurt your throat. The ache in your esophagus from the experience lasted for weeks after. Bile threatening to rise if you focused any longer on the nightmarish memory.

Up till the plate was cleared the mutant continued to feed you. Picking at the dish's portions until there was nothing left. After which the adult ninja turtle placed the cutlery to the side before taking a corner of his faded cloak to wipe away the food residue left around your mouth. Repeating the same method with the plastic cup that sat precariously on the table to the other side of you next to the cement wall.

For a moment his calculative narrowed gaze stared at you before deciding something.

"...I have to go work on the faulty pump in the filter for the hydroponic system in the Agriculture Unit later...." Thick brows frowed together in an unsure manner upon his purple-clad forehead as he continued. ".....would you be interested in joining me for the endeavor?" The aged ninja finally prompted.

You didn't respond.

Had this been seven months ago you would've replied with an immediate yes. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Back then you would've thought somebody, anybody, would help you.

But if that were the case you would've been free already.

It wasn't necessarily a secret that you belonged to the purple bandana wearing brainiac. On the contrary it was a well known fact amongst the inhabitants of the base. It was just an unspoken topic. An issue that the Commander and the rest of the generals much rather sweep under the rug than to confront.

You learned it the hard way.

You had managed to get away somehow after Donatello first claimed you. Before the chained leash that pooled around you became a permanent fixture. In its place there had been a small amount of leeway the softshell gifted you. A fragile trust you didn't bother to strengthen prior to your attempt two months into your captivity. Maybe things would've been different.

You had told Donnie you were just gonna go to the commissary and get them some lunch. Claimed you were trying to be a nice, good partner. You didn't want to disturb the important work you were so proud of him for. Like a termite at Home Depo he ate it up. A bashful smile stretched across his jade complexion that was burnt red.

Playing the serpent who tricked Adam, you slithered from the technological garden of paradise. Departing with a false display of affection. Pride filled you from the phenomenal performance you gave.

Taking flight to the wind you ran down the Resistance headquarters hallways. Without meaning too you lost yourself around the twist and turns of unfamiliar corridors. Your limited vision and even less knowledge of the section's layout not being of much aid to your mission. Especially since prior to your imprisonment you hadn't ventured to this area since it was restricted to Resistance officers way above your ranking.

Though your plan was to run into someone. Anyone who could help you. You were gonna rat out that purple techno creep. He needed to pay. You were fed up with this stupid apocalypse.

Eventually after sprinting down the halls for God knows how long. You found your self face first into the plastron of General Michelangelo.

"Wwhooo! Slow down little missy! You're gonna give this old man a scare!" The greying box turtle joked even though you weren't very much younger than him. Catching your charging figure easily between rough moss palms. Out of breath you began spewing your story. Begging the mystic mutant to help you get away from his crazy purple coded brother.

"Oooohh, so yoouurr (Y/n)..." The youngest general gathered. Aged face scrunching up in a contemplative way, as if he was thinking. For a moment you had thought maybe the mutant turtle knew who you were cause somebody had reported your missing presence. Realized that you had been stolen by one of the very leaders they worked under. Unfortunately that was not the case.

"Yes! I'm (Y/n)! Your brother Donatello, he—"

"Said that if you got lost to return you to him!~"

What.

It was too late to retreat. You didn't even have the chance to react before the orange clad General had you on the ground. Wind punched from your lungs by the sudden force. Mouth mimicking a fish out of water as you gasped for much needed air. Next thing you knew your hands were bound behind your back by the same orange bandana wearing mutant you sought aid from. Kicking and screaming as the moss green Hamato sibling dragged you back to where you had started.

Entering the lab Michaelangelo greeted his flabbergasted older brother. Sporting a wide cheshire grin as he released his grip on you to only then in the same motion push your unbalanced wobbly stature forward caching yourself on Donatello's chest. Leaving shortly after with some sort of fucked up quip you couldn't hear past the pounding in your ears. Heart jackhammering painfully against your ribs. The beat too powerful for any other sound to break it's dominating rythem.

Were you about to have a heart attack?A stroke? You couldn't tell. You didn't think people your age had them.

Once left alone the white hot fury you had expected never came. No beating. Nor any dismemberment of a limb. There were no threats made for your dire transgression. No shouts or screams of possessive anger. Only unnerving still silence.

Somehow that was worse.

You lied. You tried to leave. You made a scene with his younger brother only for said orange clad sibling to drag you back like the dog who got out.

The first ten–fifteen minutes you both just stood there. There were no excuses nor pleading from your part. Just utter overwhelming suffocating quite. The jade and purple tattooed complexion of the General's who stood before you was drained to match snow. Face displaying a composed, conserved expression to anyone who was looking in from the outside.

Unfortunately for you it was always Donatello's dark eyes that gave everything away.

Hurt. He was undeniably wounded by the injury. You broke the thin veil of trust he gave you. You could have done whatever you wanted. As long as you didn't stray far from him. Stayed and supported him. It was all he wanted.

The softshell was so happy when you forged that lie believing the act to be true. Believing that you cared about his health and work. Being kind and supportive enough to trek and retrieve both of your guys' lunch. Except upon his younger mutant brother's arrival the fantasy he was living in was broken. It was all a lie. You deceived him. Betrayed the tempered trust that two of you shared. A thin string you willing snipped.

Saltwater streaks poured down in silent bunches as the aged ninja turtle lowered his head. He really thought you had loved him as you whispered sweet claims from soft deceiving lips that kissed his heated cheek a farewell. Departing with that smile that made his heart race. Donatello was hurt. And so the turtle did the only thing that would hurt you just as much as you had hurt him.

Had you known what he was going to do maybe you would've fought harder than you had.

No words were exchanged as the mutant scientist tied your jittery limbs to your paralyzed figure. Plastic white ties zipped painfully tight around (skinned tone) appendages. Though fear hadn't taken it's full course until the softshell began to secure a thick fabric around your head, blinding you. Finding the immediate endless world of black frightening.

"Please— don't do this— I-I'm sorry!" You plead as large cold hands slide a set of what you assume are noise canceling buds into your ears. You couldn't catch your breath. Your heart wouldn't still itself as it fought for space within your ribcage. "Please! I— mphmfh!"was all you could cry before lastly a gag was stuffed into your teriffied jaws. Based on the texture of the rough fabric you deduced it was most likely an old gym sock from the clothing bin. The worn garment scratched at the roof of your mouth making you taste cooper.

Donnatello hadn't planned to use this method this early on but, this was a lesson that needed to be learned. He was going to deprive you of your senses. Leave you lost just as he would've been without you. Maybe then you'd understand.

For some time you were just scared shitless. Frightful of the purple coded general's unknown intentions. Was he gonna torture you? Kill you and keep the body? The imaginary list was much more scary than the actual first quarter of the punishment . Thankfully nothing happened. The turtle left you be. Probably just watching you from his typical spinny chair from in front of the large monitor dominating the room. The motherfucker probably felt like Batman or some shit sipping on his coffee as you the Joker— fucked around in the holding tube.

When the endless darkness started to pick at your already aggravated anxiety you had tried to force yourself asleep to escape the void. However you found the effort quickly fruitless. Trapped without sound or any background stimulation aside from the limited range of touch at your disposal made the task feel impossible. Dissolving lines between real and what was not becoming harder to differentiate with every passing unknown second.

Attempts to keep your sanity felt futile in spite of efforts to keep the screws forming coming loose. Clawed (skin tone) palms and curling toes only did so much. When all else failed you felt only one thing could be done. You need to feel something. Anything. You couldn't do this anymore. The scratches in your palms did not suffice.

Doing what you felt was your only choice in your spiralling panic. You began to throw yourself around across the lab's tile floor. Using your upper body and knees you inch worm around the room. Purposely banging yourself into anything and everything so you may injure yourself. Feeding your starved receptors with whatever painful sensations you could produce.

Donatello was quick to remove the suppressors once you really started injuring yourself. Most likely calling it when the various wounds littered your (s/c) skin began to form. Following the path you had squirmed eyes like La Brea tar pits found speckles of crimson decorating a variety of the objects in his workspace. As if a baby crawled around repainting his lab with dots of red.

What a pain. Couldn't you have just accepted the punishment like an adult? Now he was gonna have to clean up this mess later. But alas just as many great minds of science had taught him. There was always a price to be paid for results. Maybe he should've just thrown you into solitary or made a modification or two to your Achilles tendons.... Next time.

Cold hands without delay discarded the ear buds and spit soaked sock. Your chest was still rising too fast. You were gonna puke if you stayed any longer in the dark. Though once the blind fold was discarded the softshell turtle's concerned expression was the first thing you saw. The sight of another instantly calming the bees stabbing your stomach lining. A flash of worry glimmered in those pools of ink. Only for the emotion to be consumed by the sticky black tar that lurked beneath.

"Did you learn your lesson?" The purple tattooed turtle questioned softly as he scooped your zip tied bound form into his mix matched arms. Combination of flesh and steel cradling you as he maneuvered towards his cot. Donatello was aware that you have one too but, recently the color coded general had been considereing just having you sleep with him. It'd save him space.

"I doubt it." he chided with a small grin that didn't match his eyes as he laid you down. Tucking you into his barely used sheets.

You didn't bother to request for him to remove the plastic bonds as exhaustion dragged you into the realm of slumber. Senses finally relaxing thanks to some stimulation. Allowing the phantom hand caresse the curve of your cheek as you drifted away.

When you awoke your injuries were bandaged and the plastic that had restrained you was gone. In the zip ties stead was a steel collar and chain hooped around the deadbolt installed in the cool tiled floor of the purple brainiac's lab. The same device you wore to this present day.

"(Y/n).... (Y/n)..."

"(Y/n)....."

"(Y/n)"

Oh no you got lost in your memories again didn't you? Based on the softshell's expression, your answer would be yes.

"(Y/n)... I think you should come with me when I go to the farming unit. I think it'd be good for you ....and maybe we'll even see Leon and Casey Jr. " Donnie soothed. His large cold hand returning at some point continued to comb the wild flyaways that tried to elude his threading jade fingers.

You didn't care. You bobbed your head. Listening but, not particularly agreeing nor disagreeing to anything as you went along with the general's wishes.

°°°°°°

In the hallway you and Donatello walked side by side. Your collar and chain were gone. Left behind in the lab due to the bondage being bolted to the floor. Not very mobile. Which in turn left you shackle free for the trip. Seven months ago you would've already tried to attack the turtle like the wild dog you were. You had been.

Now the tamed rescue, you leapt and barked without hesitation when commanded.

Like a good pup you didn't stray from your master's side.

Traversing through the base with the lumbering mutant was a quiet affair. No one bothered the two of you as the purple clad genuis led the way.

Here and there the technological general would make small talk by commenting about certain functions found throughout the headquarters along the short journey. Explaining uses of faculties and tech that had been constructed long before you ever stepped foot in the Resistance headquarters.

Long before you ever met the softshell who kept you prisoner in his room. Like a toy a spoiled child didn't want to share.

Pushing open the floppy doors to the Ag unit; bright UV rays burned your sensitive retinas that grew unconditioned to direct sunlight due to the dark room you were trapped in on a daily. Although unlike you, Donatello's dark narrowed stare remained unfazed by the bright light. Not even a stinge of discomfort upon disciplined matured features.

Artificial warmth even if false still felt soothing on your cold (skin tone) skin.

How you missed the real thing.

Missed the stupid picnics your mother would force you on. Laying under shady emerald trees in the smothering New York summer heat under a bright blue sky. Pouting as you watched your mother and brother played on the playground. You used to think those family outings were a waste of your time when you could be hanging with your friends or studying. Be anywhere but with them. How foolish you were.

A small frown laced your lips as you recalled the more peaceful days.

"(Y/n) this way" Donatello's voice called from in front of you. At some point having grabbed your hand to pull you closer to his tall stature as he escorted the two of you through the rows of growing produce. The tips of his long purple bandana tickled your nose but you made no complaints.

"Donnie over here!"

Onwards he directed you along.

Off in the near distance was the blue clad Commander. On his shelled back was a raven haired child that looked no more than nine.

"Oi! Casey Jr can you please be un bueno niño(a good little boy)!" The leader begged as the afro mentioned brown-eyed boy tugged at the long tied strands to his azure mask. Tighting the fabric painfully around his head. Giggling at his guardian's torment. "Nah! This is so much fun el anciano(old man) " Casey cheered, showing off a wide chipped tooth grin. A recent cosmetic development much to Leo's jargon.

Back and forth the two went as you and Donatello approached the comedic duo. The softshell grown a small grin on his normally uninterested expression.

" Thank Gram Gram you're here Donnie! The pump to the filter finally said capoot! And—"

"Yeah I know that's why I'm here." The jade colored turtle cut off his Commander.

Leonardo didn't mind his brother's injection. Smile still present upon olive skin.

"Alright-o dear brother-o! I'll leave you to it."

As the two siblings continued to chat over the needed maintenance, the raven haired boy leaning over the lumbering leader's shoulder stared straight at you. Eyes like teddy bear plushies bore into your being as they watched. Wide and impressionable. Brown judging spheres.

You could feel the bugs scuttling under your skin again.

"(Y/n)..., (Y/n) are you listening?"

Breaking from the losing staring competition you were having with the nine year old. Knowing dark eyes like night drew your attention back to the mutant who was cradling your hand between his own odd pair.

Once the scientist was sure he had all of you here he repeated his directions. " (Y/n) I want you to hangout out here for a little while I work. The pump requires more attention than I had initially thought..." Jade eyelids closed for a moment as the mutant exhaled his stored breath. " ...if you need me you can ask Leo. He had said he and Casey had some things to do here for a bit anyways so he doesn't mind watching you."

You didn't care. It was just nice being outside that damn lab in general.

With the nod of your head Donatello allowed your smaller hand free from his mix matched grasp. " I'll be back soon. If you get too hot tell Leo and he'll take you inside to cool down." The turtle further explained. It was like he wasn't sure if he could depart from you. Even if he was only temporarily leaving you under his twin's supervision. He still didn't like the idea of not having you beside him as he worked. However the space in the room with the filter was limited. Although Donnatello would prefer to have you in sight. Genius does take a little finesse and he always performed best with space.

With one more glance the softshell turtle turned and left. Walking towards the small building far off in the corner of the massive underground green house.

Once gone you were left standing there. Unmoving like a puppet without it's puppeteer.

You guess you stood there for too long cause at some point the Leonardo approached and rested his palm on your clothed shoulder. Probably making sure you're still there before his olive palm spirited away.

Hands very much like Donatello's. Too much like Donnie's. The touch made you shutter. You hated it. You hated the jade turtle who did this to you.

Based on the Commander's look you could tell he wanted to ask if you were good. Though the question would be pointless when the answer was as obvious as the dirt that coated the thin fabric of your eggshell colored slip-on flats.

"Sensei why is that weird girl that General Donnie brought only got one eye? Is she a pirate?" Casey Jr inquired not aware of the offensive statement he constructed.

The blue clad leader flicked his retainee's forehead. Lightly punishing the child as he chastised the raven haired boy for the rude question. "Casey Jr that's not how we talk about people. Especially ladies. If you have a question you ask them politely. " The retainer informed. Dark onyx eyes too similar to that of his brainac twin's slid back to your cemented figure.

You were waiting.

With an awkward grin Leo proposed that you join him and Casey Jr on their check up on the Agricultural workers. You didn't respond, just nodding to whatever the aged ninja turtle had suggested.

Around the large farming area that had to be as big, if not bigger than old New York City's Grand Central Station. The red eared slider led you and Casey Jr around as he performed leader duties. The task not being that tedious if it wasn't for the raven haired kinder who wouldn't leave you be. The orphan kept asking too many personal questions for your taste. None of which you responded too. Though that didn't mean it stopped the nine year old from chatting your ear off.

For what felt like forever Casey Jr went on about, everything. There wasn't a single topic he stuck to. Bouncing from asking about how you knew General Donnie to do you always wear pajamas? What was your favorite food? Do you have any parents? What's your favorite game in the rec room?

The kid was gonna be the death of you if not the UVs that were starting to roast you. The faded winter sleeping attire you wore not necessarily the best outfit to be clothed in while under the artificial rays. Though you didn't complain. Didn't want to miss this opportunity to be outside of the technological General's lab.

You weren't ready to go back to the darkness. Not yet.

A single (E/c) colored orb found itself focused on the sudden opportunity presented.

You didn't have to go back as long as you did this right. You could be free. You couldn't fuck this up again. Not again. The anxiety of the looming punishment sat in the back of your mind. Giggling. A child-like tone mocking you for your thoughts of freedom. Reminding you if you escaped something worse could happen. Would happen.

Blood trickled down the (skin tone) surface of your chin. You had accidentally chewed your bottom lip to ground beef with your nervous tick, again.

Using the right sleeve of your pajama shirt you wiped away the oozing crimson fluid.

"Are you okay (Y/n)?" Casey's high but worried voice broke you from your scheming thoughts.

Looking down at Casey Jr's baby checks that had been holding a wide chipped smile instead thinned out into a tight frown. Wide brown orbs innocently peered up at you with concern.

For a moment you didn't reply.

Looking past the apocalyptic born child observing the interaction between Leo and the worker he spoke to. Gageing how much longer you had before the Commander returned from the discussion.

" I'm fine... but, ....do you think you could help me with something Casey? "

°°°°°°°

When his softshell twin asked him if he could watch (Y/n) while he worked on the hydroponic filter pump. The red eared slider was not gonna lie, he was not looking forward to the task. Already having his own gremlin running a muck the last thing the blue clad Commander wanted was a creepy-ass robot following them around.

However whenever it came to Donnie and (Y/n) being involved in the same situation there was hardly room for argument. Leo was the leader of the Resistance he swore that he'd do his best to help end this apocalypse and to do so he needed a functional base. That entailed having a controlled food supply, functioning weaponry, dormitories, facilities— the works. If anything was to go down. The blue bandana wearing mutant only has one reliable individual who could repair, design, modify— you name it. In less time than a whole team of engineers and mechanics he could whip up— combined. Only Donnie could do it. It's cause of the afro mentioned scientist and his inventions that the Krrang hadn't taken them out yet. The aged blue bandana wearing turtle wasn't actually sure how long they could fend off the pink tentacle armada without his softshell twin.

The thought keeps him on edge sometimes— what if the turtle passed or chose not to use his gift the way he does. They'd be screwed in the long run. The turtle imagines it would be similar to that of ant colony walking into a spider's nest. The carnage would be unsalvageable. They'd have to use the last resort.

He couldn't afford for shit to go sideways.

And sometimes if that meant sacrifices... for the greater good so be it. It was something the mutant leader wasn't proud of.

Leo isn't even really sure when the purple clad mutant even met (Y/n) or how. Donnie kept mostly to himself. Never straying far from his lab and a working coffee machine. So the fact the caffine addicted nerd met someone, let alone a girl. Truly made the phenomenon a mystery worthy of Sherlock Holmes.

He knew what he was doing when Donnie made his ultimatums. It was (Y/n) or no base. The softshell mutant was aware the kind of game he was playing. How it would affect everyone. So many would be lost because the adult ninja turtle wanted to throw a tantrum. Leonardo was ashamed but, it was necessary. He had to give in to the mad scientist's demands. The olive skinned mutant would like to say he had no choice— But he did. And he chose to keep the Resistance alive rather than allowing you to be free. He couldn't. Donnie wanted you and so you were the purple clad General's. There was no room for negotiations. The softshell was always stubborn like that. He played the odds in his favor. He'd let the whole base crumble if it meant he couldn't have you.

And for the last year, that was that.

Leonardo knew that Donatello was keeping you in his lab and that at some point over the last twelve months the workspace began to double as the jade turtle's quarters as well.

Only discovering the new development when visiting his purple color coded brother one day. The blue bandana wearing leader doesn't remember what he had gone to his sibling's work space for but, once inside he found the usual cluttered layout. However off closer to the far wall in the direct line of sight was the (Blonde/Brunette/Raven or Scarlet Haired/ Etc) tribute his brother had demanded for.

This had been when the (e/c) eyed woman still had her own bed. Though at some point after your escape attempt that had been thwarted by Mikey. He remembered because of the presence of the steel restraints that you typically wore when in Donnie's laboratory.

In the corner you were laying down. Hands obviously bound behind your back. The (h/c) haired captive probably scratched her neck raw again. His theory only confirmed upon closer inspection. Beneath the steel collar a dressing of white gauze. Though that wasn't the only injury. Like a Christmas present you were wrapped almost head to toe in the cotton bandages. Most likely caused by other attempts to break free from your bonds which backfired. Resulting in Donnie just further inhibiting your mobility.

Sometimes he doesn't understand why the softshell turtle did what he does. If he loved you, why did he let you hurt yourself like this? The technological General's plan was to rid you of your will. Like the mustang in stables he was gonna break that need to be free. You would be his. The aged purple coded mutant wouldn't accept anything less.

It was creepy how his sciencey twin doted on his feral captive. How even when discussing the condition of the base the crippled mutant still gravitates towards your curled up figure. In spite your attempts to chomp off his jade digits the Donnie still continued to glide his fingers through (h/c) strands. The action was bizarre to the red eared slider. He couldn't relate but if this kept the softshell from throwing the headquarters into the destructive hands of the Krrang. So be it.

Which brings Leo back to the current task at hand. Watching both Casey Jr and his brother's captive as he did his patrols of the agricultural production. He needed to start getting a feel of the ratio amount of crops so he knew how to plan for the Resistance's future. Winter was gonna be coming soon and scavenging in the snow was not an easy feat. Especially with pink tentacle freaks and the assimilated around every lurking corner up on the surface.

Leo was sure that this was gonna be a pain in the shell however to his surprise he found some entertainment out of the one sided conversation Casey Jr was having with you.

Regardless of the lack of your response, the raven haired boy kept bombarding you with rounds of endless questioning. Like twenty-one questions but, with more like five hundred-fifty-five questions. It was hilarious. Many times as he was communicating with his subordinates he would over hear Casey Jr spout something random. Comedic prompting caused the mutant leader to muffle his chuckles on a few occasions. The action earned him a raised brow or two from a couple of agricultural workers.

Everything was fun and games, until it wasn't.

Leo had been strolling down one of the many select rows of dirt walkways onto the next location he needed a report from. He had been listening to his live comedy show when he noticed the lack of quips from his adolescent charge. That's when he peeked over his broad shoulder, only to find nothing but the dirt path beneath his feet. Casey Jr and (Y/n) nowhere to be found.

That's when suddenly shit turned into a real life Lou Jitsu movie with a plot twist that kept the viewer at the edge of their seat. Except for Leo this wasn't a Lou Jitsu movie. He fucked up. Shit wasn't just gonna line up and all his problems would be solved. No. Hot Soup he had to solve this himself. The Resistance Commander gripped the inside pockets of his loose fitted beige pants. A small amount of anxiety rose at the possible implication of the duo's absence meant.

Now the blue clad mutant was aware he was the sharpest tool in the shed but he knew some things. For example, you wanted to leave. Casey Jr knew how to leave the base. Leo taught him in case of emergency if the red eared slider himself or someone else wasn't present to assist the child. Said afro mentioned charge wanted you to respond to his pestering. And the Resistance leader was distracted by the comedic routine and his patrols to notice the disappearance of the two-man comedic troupe he had been chaperoning.

The grown ninja turtle knew what you were doing. If his hypothesis was correct—

You were trying to use Casey Jr to escape.

The blue bandana wearing turtle internally scolded himself for his stupidity. He knew you wanted to escape. He shouldn't have let his guard down just because of your meek unresponsive domineer and his humorous charge.

Donatello was gonna kill him if he didn't find you before the purple clad mutant was finished repairing the pump. Which at this point was any minute.

Taking a deep breath of air Leonardo calmed his startled nerves. The mutated Commander had no reason to stress. He could handle this easily. Reminding himself that he taught Casey Jr how to flee from the base. If that truly was the case this retrieval should be a walk in the park.

Cursing his luck under his breath the olive skinned turtle dashed off in the suspected direction that you and Casey had traveled. Unaware of inky orbs following his brother's retreating figure. Ignorant to the irritated displeasure that burned within the tary pits.

°°°°°°°°

As a kid your mother the ever devoted follower— used to warn you about making deals with demons and wicked imps. They'd offer whatever you wished for just a simple price before snatching away your soul. Never would you ever reach the kingdom in the clouds with her and your brother Ethan(I know so creative). Now adult, you knew that stuff was a crock of shit— but as a starry-eyed child with all the hopes and no crushed self esteem, you believed it. Though now as you traversed through disgusting sewer waste you can honestly say that it was a possibility. How else did you end up in this mess? You rolled the dice with the jade devil and now you couldn't pay.

"(Y/n)? .....Were you even listening?"

Without even realizing it you drifted off into your thoughts again an occurrence that only seemed to become more frequent the longer you stayed in that base. In that lab. With the purple bandana wearing turtle who betrayed your trust.

Hopefully after this you wouldn't have to worry about that mutated swindler ever again.

"Sorry.. I was just thinking about something...could you repeat what you said again?" You asked glancing down at your miniature guide, a tight smile presented on your (skin tone) face. It's been a while since you had to play nice.

It was selfish but, you had no other choice. You'd never have this opportunity again. You only had one way out. No one else was gonna help you. Push came to shove you were willing to do whatever it took to flee from the purple clad demon who wouldn't leave you be.

" Dios miós! I-iii aaasked why you're tryinna' to leave this base? Isn't everyone like, tryinna' to get in the base not out? " The doomsday child inquired. Emphasizing his question with a dramatic arched brow and one big questioning eye. The expression very animated. The kid likely picked up the look from a old salvaged comic from the Resistance headquarters' communal library.

Not prepared for the sudden insightful line questioning from the nine year old who up until now had been just asking whatever seemed to pop into his head.

With a forced grin you replied. "You wish." Teasing the now pouting child before continuing. "Though if you must know. I'm gonna go see some family." You lied releasing a tired exhale as your sole (e/c) orb looked around the seemingly empty canels that Casey was accompanying you through. Claiming that he only knew the way based on the look of the surroundings. How he tells the difference between one gross wall from another gross wall slightly boggled your head. Though if it got you out of this cement prison you didn't care.

For a moment as the two of you walked side by side the raven haired child peered up at you with a squinting gaze as he absorbed your answer. Another cartoonish action that made the corner of your lip slightly curl.

"Hmmmm... Alrighty! I can understand wanting to see your family. I lost my mother when I was young but, Leo and his brothers always make me feel right at home!" The young child perked as he grinned up at you with that wide chipped grin of his.

You missed this type of interaction. No fighting or an obsessive purple bandana wearing turtle lurking. Just two normal people just having a plain conversation. No commands or shifty deals. Just one person leading the other to the long awaiting freedom you've desired.

These interactions with the teddy bear brown eyed boy become more challenging with each quip the child spoke. Insects were drilling into the flesh under your skin again. Burrowing into the empty casket of your missing soul. Thriving on what is left of your sanity as they scuttled around in the memories you didn't want to face.

Somehow peering down at the chubby cheeks and scruffy black hair of Casey Jr's that didn't resemble Ethan in any way— still made you think of your deceased younger sibling.

He had been only eight years old he was the first to go out of your happy family trio. It had happened when the Krrang had first opened their portal. Neither one of you were prepared for the earthquake like shake before the ceiling of your mother's apartment collapsed and crushed the two of you under crumbling rubble. When you came to after pushing crumbled drywall from on top of yourself and searching for your younger sibling. All you found when you searched through broken pieces of your childhood home was blood. You couldn't lift the interior support beam off of where you had presumed Ethan was. The steel was far too heavy and your palms were too coated in the surrounding sediment to be able to lift the remaining pieces. You couldn't do anything. Unable to fulfill the role of the older sibling.

For hours you bawled as you had tried to wait for your mother's return. She had been at work when the Krrang attacked. You never did find out what became of her. You always did hope that she got away and somehow was doing well. Even if the reality is she most likely got assimilated or killed. You still always prayed she was doing good.

You just wanted to see them again. Go back in time and re-live the moments you carelessly spent. Fights and words you wish could be taken back. Reclaim wasted opportunities that you'll never have again. How you wish you could tell them you loved them both one last time.

"(Y/n) were here."

At the sound of Casey Jr's squeaky voice your lone (e/c) orb found presented before it was a waterfall of sludge that spilled over into a thirty-five foot drop. Leading down into what appeared into a bay of the same icky substance rushing past your soaked flats. An

With a cheeky grin the raven haired boy pointed down into the pool below. "This is it, the end of the line for me!" The boy quipped before continuing. "I can't go any further with you but, if you keep following that tunnel down there you should be out of the sewers in no time!" Casey finished with a smirk arms crossed over his tiny chest as he explained the directions. Obviously proud himself for remembering his Sensei's words.

" Thanks... " You grinned awkwardly. Not particularly fond of the idea of swimming through god knows what.

"Goodbye Casey, ...thank you for showing me the out." A small smile grew on your face as you looked back at the nine year old only to see the cause of your nightmares standing silently in the background. Glowing optic reflecting in the shadows like a beast prowling the jungle.

Suddenly the spacious catacomb you've been traversing through didn't have enough air. Your chest clenched tight around the squishy organs encased in your ribs.

"(Y/n) are you alrig—"

"Casey Jr stay back!"

It was Leonardo, already at his charge's side holding back the nine year old from advancing any further into the situation that no longer included them. Donatello already approaching forward with the same air of confidence he always carried. Expression studious and sharp. Although the purple tattooed turtle did not display it— he was fucking furious.

"I should've known you would do this to me, (Y/n). " The General dryly chuckled as he edged closer. Every bold step forward the purple bandana wearing ninja took, the closer your shaking legs stumbled towards the slimy edge of the trash filled waterfall. In his three fingered grip a pair of steel cuffs. The kind you see in the movies except from the look of the bulky things. The ones dangling from Donatello's right hand were real.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck— Things were moving too fast. Your rampaging pumping muscle was going to explode. Panicked breaths filled the range of sound your anxiety allowed at you honed in on the jade demon in front of you.

" I should've never made that deal with you... you lied to me. You knew that my mother was dead— YOU KNEW!" You cried as your lone (e/c) eye flashed back and forth between the cracking edge you stood on and the softshell who stood before you. "You fucking lied to me! You played me just so I would stay! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

Panting you learned forward, (skin tone) palms resting on your knees. Never breaking eye contact with the aged turtle who although appeared collected was everything but. Narrowed black eyes filled with so much anger. Though still allowed you continue.

"I... -pant-....will never.. -pant- ..fucking love you. You were a mistake. Any feelings I ever had for you were a mistake. I wish I never had met you. I wish I fucking died when you rescued me on your stupid scrap run those months ago..." Straighten your stature you gave the infuriated jade turtle one last look as you smugly looked him dead in the eye.

"I wish whatever fucked up God had chose to taken General Raph, ....had instead killed you..." You calmly stated. Laughing as you continued. Silent tears finally falling out of your last good eye. " Hahahaha— the only reason— you are soooo important enough to still be alive is because your older brother decided to give his life for all of you sick fucks! I pity his sacrifice— maybe at least if he was still here he would know how to handle shit instead of giving into an overgrown spoiled brat like you!"

Silence. No one made a peep. The only sound that broke through the thick tension in the tunnel was the rushing sound of the sewers water that at this point has successfully drenched the legs of your muck covered plaid bottoms.

In the background the fearless blue bandana wearing Commander's emotions were all laid out on his nonexistent sleeve. He was hurt, pissed, and over all he just looked disturbed with the overall conversation.

Meanwhile Casey Jr shielded his face into his Sensei's plastron. Quite sobs choking the boy as his tiny hands griped onto his Commander's beige pant leg like his life depended on it. Terrified of the situation that didn't make sense to the child. The sight made your heart ache just a little bit.

Donatello didn't say anything. He didn't do anything just bore holes into your soul. You had opened your mouth to continue berating the purple clad asshole who's kept you in his fuckin' lab for the last year. Forced you to sleep next to him. Locked you up like a dog when you tried to run away.

However the jade mutant beat you to the punch.

"Shut up. Don't you dare even say another fucking word. "The aged ninja seethed, closing the space between the two of you in a blink of an eye. His left metal palm shooting to grasp your according bicep, tightening his grip around the tender flesh.

" I don't ever want to ever hear you mention Raph's name ever again. You don't fucking deserve to say it. You're so ungrateful and pathetic it just makes everyone around you laugh at your stupidity. Are you really trying to leave the base? Me? For what? Just so you can go fucking kill yourself out there? I saved you. I'm supporting the human race even when all the facts say I shouldn't. That I should've given up on this stupid apocalypse alooong time ago but, I didn't. I had wanted to when we had crossed paths for the first time. When I rescued you, I changed my mind. Why can't you just be grateful!?!?" Donatello cried as he pushed you from the tunnels edge into the roaring murky waters below.

°°°°°

Beep...beep...beepbeepbeep

There she is.

The softshell will admit he lost a bit of his composure back there. He shouldn't have pushed you from that high of a point but, you just made him so mad. How dare you bring up Raph. You weren't there. You don't know what it was like on that battlefield. There was no winning, only retreat. You don't realize how much he wishes everyday that the one who had perished was himself not Raph. You don't realize. You're always so naive. That's why Donatello was here to keep you safe. It was for your own good.

There.

In the shallow waters was your water logged figure. Obviously you were out cold based off small rise and fall of your chest.

With a sigh, Donatello slid the projected screen from the monitor on his cybertronic arm. Deactivating the tracker that was implanted in your abdomen. Lucky for him had installed this little insurance a long time ago after one of your many fits just for this type of emergency. Finding the gadget handy in locating you both times. Not having to rely on his red eared slider twin's amazing capabilities.

Trekking into the shallow water the purple clad turtle reached down and retrieved your knocked out figure. Not caring particularly much about the condition of his loose dark purple pants that soaked up the surrounding water fairly quickly.

With a strong exhale of air the technological general retreated back to his base chastising you under his breath along the way. Once there the softshell would insure that you wouldn't have another opportunity like this again.

Like a true scientist Donatello learns from his mistakes and he'll keep trying until one of his punishments clicks. It's not like you won't give the techno demon the opportunity to do so. Not that Donatello minds.

After all where would science be without trial and error?

¶¶Creator's notes¶¶

Wazzup!

You guys made this far so you deserve the scoup on the next one-shot will be...

Drum roll🥁🥁

Yan!Future!Raph x Reader 🎉🎉

I don't have a picture for Future Raph but, if you guys have any good pictures saved hit me up I'm always open.

I have some ideas on how I want to do it. Though I could also turn it into a post movie sort of deal. Where it takes place after the events of the ROTTMNT movie. Thouughhh it's up to you guys. One person has already voted for some future Raph so we'll see what I come up with.

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