#nauseaxe 404 x reader

[cobraaah]

Pairing• [Nauseaxe_404 ♡ Reader]

A/N• This took way longer than I wanted. Hopefully, it's not too long for you guys. It's not the best since I haven't written anything, let alone smut in a long time. Also not proofread. . Way too long. Also I dunno how to do warnings so be prepared I guess.

Warnings• Smut 18+, intentional injury, manipulation, slight blood?, axe usage ( not hurting reader), P in V, cunnilingus

Word count• 8k

Superstar

Desperate. Desperate for money of course! Recently you've been low on money, having bad impulsive buying habits on randome junk you didn't need. "A way to gain fast money!" Popped up on your laptop screen. Scrolling on suspicious and unsecured websites had its downsides. A grumbled sigh left you as you tried to click the ad off your screen. It didn't leave, it was like some sort of weird virus. . or something like that, you wernt the smartest tool in the shed when it came to computers. Your curiosity came over you, you did need some quick cash. Your morals went out the window, discarding the fact that you could get so many viruses, maybe even kidnapped! Your finger hovered hesitantly over the pad on your laptop. Deciding to get it over with quick, you click, closing your eyes for some reason, expecting a million more pop ups to show up, maybe a random guy breaking into your home to take you away. . but no. Your E-Mail opened up instead. Your eyes squint at the screen reading the new E-Mail that was sent to you. To you, it was all non important, besides a few key details, they read; "simple and does not require any particular skills or talents." , "50,000 dollars cash in total. Half will be sent to you in a few days, the other half will be at the job site." You paused for a second, re-reading the last part. Your eyes widen as your mouth gaped with a surprised grin. "Fifty K?!" You scanned the email over again, trying to convince yourself this isn't real, fortunately, it was. Deciding to actually read the email now the description talked about having to be a mediator, having to remove some tendents from a hotel of sorts. Seeing as they said it's simple and you don't need any special skills, this seemed as a easy way for you to earn some money. Red flags should've been popping up in your head but your lust and desperation for money took over. Quickly, you typed a E-Mail back accepting the offer, clicking send you sat back with a sigh. Now all you had to do was wait for half the money to be sent to you and-. "Wait a second.." You mumbled to yourself. With another quick re reading of the E-Mail they did say they were going to send half the money. . but how? "I never gave them my address or like. . anything?" With a sigh, you closed your laptop assuming that these ominous people from this sketchy ad had all your information already from your relentless visits to sketchy websites doing god knows what on them.

A few days have gone by since you've sent that e-mail accepting the suspicious job offer that you didn't even know was real to be honest. Currently looking up at the ceiling contemplating everything you've done at this point, we're you really that gullible? Thinking that someone would actually give you a-. . A loud crashing noise can be heard outside your room, heavy footsteps can be heard getting more faint until nothing. Frozen through the whole ordeal, you sit up after just laying there for who knows how long. Your eyes dart over to your door completely unsure about this whole thing, did someone really just break into your house? What if they were still inside?! A shiver runs through your body, goosebumps form on your arms at the thought. Getting up, you shuffle your way to your door cautiously incase the intruder was still there. With a creak of the door, your eyes dart everywhere not noticing anything out of place. Walking out of the hallway you notice a suitcase placed infront of your front door. "What the fuck.." Eyes squinting suspiciously at the case infront of you. Looking behind your shoulder before you crouch down and open the suitcase up.

Stacked upon stacks of hundred dollar bills are loaded in the case. Your mouth open slighty in disbelief at the sight, was this the twenty-five thousand?? Who ever your client is, they know where you live. Too overwhelmed by the amount of cash infront of you and the thought of some random from the internet knowing where you live, AND them actively breaking into your house, you shut the case. Staring surprised at it, you pick it up and walk back into your room carefully setting the briefcase next to your dresser. You get settled back into your bed opening your laptop having it rest on your lap. Just before opening up the web browser a pop up flashes on your screen, it has some address with the text underneath it reading "Arrive by 6 AM this monday, no backing out now." Oh. . oh. A small frown forms on your face at how threatening that last part was. Weighing the option of dipping with the twenty-five thousand dollars or suffer the consequences your client would serve to you if you didn't listen. . . you took the ladder. You take a screenshot of the address, saving it to your laptop for later. The pop up disappears a few moments later leaving you to the browser.

Scrolling on Dumblr, looking through random blogs, reading fanfics, the usual. Just as your finishing reading a blog the notification inbox pings. . . and pings repeatedly. "Jesus christ.." You mumbled under your breath. 'Swear to god, if this is the same guy-' Tapping on the inbox button you're welcomed by spammed comments by this guy named Nauseaxe_808. Now you would've been fine by this if it wasn't the same guy you've blocked hundreds of times for, number one being a creep, leaving obsessive comments. . and that's it. This guy just creeps you the hell out, everytime you block him he comes back with a new account with the same name but just different numbers added at the end, it started as Nauseaxe_404 to Nauseaxe_808.

At this point you've thought of just deleting your account since no one interacts with your blogs besides this weirdo. BUT thinking that if you did delete your account this sicko would win in his sick game. Of course at some point you started to feel bad for the guy, he seemed like a good person at some points when he wasn't leaving comments like, "I know where you live Superstar!", "Please notice me, I'm your BIGGEST fan!" Just super obsessive stuff. Did it make you feel wanted. . . yes. Should it? no. Are you delusional? maybe. Finger grazing over the mouse pad on the laptop, with a click on this guys profile and another click on the block button a sense of relief washes over you, but so does some regret creep up on you. All this guy wants is your attention and you keep on blocking him, maybe you should respond to him once. . . just once so you don't feel guilty about ignoring this guy, you'll just wait until the next time he makes a new account to respond with a simple 'Thanks.' and maybe he'll leave you alone, maybe just one response will make him stop. Is that a smart move to make against this online stalker? Not really, but common sense wasn't really that common to you anyways. You close the laptop with a sigh deciding today was eventful enough for you, too overwhelming in fact. Setting the laptop on the floor you get settled in your bed, deciding to get some sleep. Sleep quickly takes over, not realizing how exhausted you were. . .

Monday comes quicker than expected, unfortunately. Having to wake up way earlier than expected to go to this random ass location in the middle or the woods. Great! Sarcasticly you think to yourself as you follow the GPS on your phone, a small scowl appears on your face, rethinking your decisions. You dressed somewhat formal for this job, after all they are paying you fifty thousand dollars to be a mediator so you better belive it you're not gonna look homeless today. But having to wake up at five in the morning so you could make it on time didn't motive you that much to put that much effort in yourself. You did the basic for yourself and hoped that was good enough for this client of yours. The soft growl of your stomach interrupts your thoughts. You completely forgot to eat something before leaving due to being so nervous for this ominous, potentially dangerous job. Butterflies twisted your stomach like parasites as the destination neared closer, you felt like you were gonna throw up. You power through it though and turn on some music to calm your nerves and get your mind soothed. The sky still shone with the bright moon still out, the sun still sleeping. . . just like what you should be doing right now. You shake your head dismissing any negative thoughts about this job, you were gonna do fine. . right..? A soft groan leaves you as your mind keeps wondering and complaining about how stupid and unsafe this was for you to be doing.

Pushing away those thoughts, the cars headlights shine on a old looking hotel of sorts. Parking the car nearby you step out, the cold very early morning air hiting your skin almost like a warning, making the nerves on your body be on high alert once more. The gravel crunches under your shoes as you walk twords the hotel. Stepping on the wooden front steps, you're greeted with a briefcase and a walkie talkie placed near the front door. Bending down you open up the briefcase, marveling at how much money there's in it. . just like last time. Abruptly the walkie next to it chimes in, "Thank you for accepting this job offer! Now that you've accepted the full amount of cash, you can now begin the job." the walkie buzzes off as the guy stops talking. You're exciment was short lived as you realized you did have a job to do afterall, debts to pay, things to buy, and of course bills. You stand up with a stretch grabbing the radio and the briefcase. You put the case in the back of your car and walk back to the hotel, you feel unease, your body telling you this isn't a good idea, red flags should've be popping up in your head. But you're clouded with your need for money you trudge on and open up the front door, a loud creak resonates through the deathly quiet, empty lobby. As soon as you step inside the door quickly slams behind you leaving you in the dark for a quick second before the dim lights turn on. Two doors on either side of you and one big door in the middle presumably leading to the rest of the hotel. Each door has a different colour red, blue, yellow and finally purple.

The walkie talkie comes back to life, "Congratulations for making it this far, in all honestly youve made it farther than three quarters of our business partners from before. You seem reliable and more. . .entertaining. .," the voice goes quiet before buzzing back to life, "Anyways! Welcome to my hotel, just a small caution for your job today as a mediator, you'll be working with. .with monsters? Not really that important, anyways start with the red door!" The walkie quickly shuts off without anymore information about the 'monsters'. "W. . Wait?!" Your finger pressed the button on the side of the walkie, "What do you mean 'monsters'?" You question wide eyed into the walkie. . . you recive no response after a minute. You silently curse to yourself as you slowly approch the red labeled door that reads '001' in gold letters. You side eye the barricaded door and windows, realization finally sets in. You can't leave until you're finished with this job. With your attention back on the door you grip the handle and open it, quickly stepping inside.

The door slams behind you making you jump forward a bit, startled again by another door slamming behind you. You squint at the door suspiciously as you turn back around looking around. You step forward into the middle of the room, "Uhhmm. . . Hello?" You say hopefully loud enough for the resident to hear. Before you're able to take in the surroundings something hard hits the back of your head making your vision go black and fall unconscious, the last thing you're able to feel or even hear is "I've got you my. . Superstar," as you feel a pair of hands grab you a little too tight, keeping you from falling face first onto the floor.

A soft buzzing fills your mind as you slowly gain consciousness again. A soft groan escapes your throat as you sit up from the floor, your head hurts like hell. It appears you're in the same spot before you blacked out, it suprises you that youre still alive. As your vision gets unfuzzy there's a tall figure looming over you just. . . staring. "Uhm. . Hello..?" Your voice came out mumbled and quiet as you started back at the supposed monster infront of you, you can't make out what his face looks like due to his hood casting a dark shadow over his face and the red bandana covering the lower part of his face only making one of his eyes visible. In all honestly he doesn't really look like a monster besides his much taller height, but nothing else is distinguishable about him to classify him as a monster.

"I can't belive we can finally meet. . .-" Heavy breathing can be heard coming from him, almost could be distinguished as panting. "-Face to face..," His eyes squint, under that bandana he most likely has a sinister unsettling grin on his face. Just at the thought makes you cringe, internally of course, scared to make any negative reaction could have percussions. You finally register what he said after a moment, your mind trying to catch up with everything, adrenaline spiked a little out of fear, "Do I know. . you?" Your eyes squint suspiciously at the man infront of you, legs moving on their own, you stand up, leaning against the door behind you. The height difference didn't change at all, he was still much. . . much taller than you. Standing at roughly about two meters tall, your eyes widen in shock at the size difference between you both. 'What the hell was this guy?', 'Is he actually a monster?' , 'ARE MONSTERS EVEN REAL?'. Multiple thoughts swarmed your head like bees, are you going crazy? Shaking your head you averted your attention back to the guy infront of you. . He's still staring with his ecstatic squinted eyes, great.

"Of course you know me Superstar, I'm your biggest fan," You froze, goosebumps automatically formed on your skin as you heard that nickname. 'Superstar', could this really be the guy from Dumblr. . .? The air in the room seemed to get thick, making it hard for you to breath. Your hands get sweaty, a shudder runs through your spine. This 'thing' was your stalker. With heightened sense you realize that he's holding an axe. 'Holy fuck he's gonna kill me, I'm dead... im dead... im dead'. Those two words repeat in your head, frozen in fear. With your eyes fixated on the axe he begins to speak again. "Sorry for knocking you out, I thought you were one of those 'pests' who try to break into my room! It's become a habit for me to automatically attack anyone who enters. Good thing i realized it was 'you', my Superstar! Or else you woulve gotten. . . seriously injured." He cocks his head to the side, confused on your spaced out, deer caught in headlights facial expression, not realizing youre staring at the axe.

Responding in a meekly way, "I... It's okay.," Being super freaked out by the fact he could've killed you if he didn't recognized you sent a shock through you. A sudden laugh breaks you out of your trance as your eyes dart back to his face, you realize he's laughing. "PHAHAHAHA!" Being the awkward person you are, nervous and emotionally broken already, in fear he might attack you again, you awkwardly laugh along. "Hah... hahaha.." Your laughs come out more quietly than you wanted them, but he doesn't seem to care. But seriously, you have questions, you need to figure out how to cooperate with this monster and convince him to leave the hotel, afterall you do have a job to do.

Bringing up the courage to yourself to speak as he finally stops laughing, his squinted eyes turning back to their normal predatory gaze. "Are you by chance Nauseaxe_404...?" Raising an eyebrow already knowing the answer, but wanting confirm your suspicions. You see his eyes squint happily with admiration. "Yes! You don't know how long I've waited to finally talk to you, I've tried messaging you on Dumblr but you kept on blocking me.." His voice trailed off slightly, making you feel unease. Both his hands grip on the axe tightend as his breath became labored again. "You. . . You didn't block me on purpose. . hah . . Right?" His red eye glared at you with a subtle twitch, was he really that naive? Did he not realize he was a total creep when leaving those comments on your blogs? "Uh. . Of course not! It's probally some weird Dumblr glitch.." You don't sound sure at all, or even confident, but it was good enough for Nause. His grip on the axe loosened until only he eas holding onto it with one hand, and his shoulders slacked. He blinked and his eye went back to normal as he stood up semi straight again, still a bit hunched over.

"Heheh yeah. I guess it was, haha..," He paused, rubbing his neck. "Well then, what brings you here my Superstar?" He questioned, looking down at you with an unreadable expression, you weren't quite sure how to read him, he was unpredictable. "You need to like. . . leave?" You tried putting it in simple terms in hopes he won't lash out on you. You start feeling unnerved and decide to glance around, all this direct eye contact with him is making you more nervous. Taking in the view around you, you see presumably stapled or tacked printed out pages of writings of some blog? Not just a normal blog, fanfics. . . Holy crap. This guy has been printing off every single one of your posts and sticking them to his walls. He really IS your biggest fan. . . in more appropriate terms 'He really IS a stalker, creep, weirdo, a loser with no life!', gulping at the thought, thankfully your attention is directed back to Nause as he starts speaking again.

"Why 'would' I want to leave?! I have no idea how I got here in the first place. . . but I still have no intentions on leaving." His voice trails off with the hint of festering agitation. Small huffing can be heard from him again, he grips his axe infront of him. You accidently worked him up again, seemed like that was somehow a touchy question, flip. Mentally cursing to yourself you connect the few braincells in your head that haven't fried yet and come up with a excellent plan on how to deal with this freak.

"H. . How about I write a uhm..-" You paused, are you really gonna make the proposition of writing a fanfic for him in exchange for his leave. Yeah. "-If I write you a 'fanfic'. . or something since you seem to enjoy them. . . a lot..," Mumbled as your eyes glance back to the walls full of printed out pictures of your blogs. "If I do that will you please leave this hotel?" Silently pleading, praying, hoping to the man in the sky that he'll accept this offer so you can hurry up and finish this job. His body begins to shake with. . you don't even know at the moment. His eye curves with excitement you presume. "Really? Just for me right? No one else?!" Before you're able to respond he continues, "Could you maybe write them here? Or at least one? I have a old typewriter just incase for this one specific moment I fantasized about fivehundredseventytwothousandeighhundrednintyhundrendedquadrillion times!" You should be surprised but at this point you just want to be done.

"Sure... Sure yeah.." You mumbled with squinted eyes, hoping he wasn't going to make you stay here forever writing endless stories for him. You follow him into a room that has a desk with a laptop and a wooden chair. . . That must be uncomfortable for him, sitting at this desk for how many hours a day, stalking your blog with the shitty hotel wifi, life must suck for this dude no wonder why he's like this. Shaking your head at that absurd intruding thought you eye the chair, is that really what you're gonna have to sit on? Walking over, you sit down. Nause grabs the type writer from a box in the corner of the room, he pushes the laptop to the side and replaces it with the typewriter. He looms behind you, waiting for you to start typing. "Anything. . specific you want me to write?" Quickly you begin to regret the decision of giving him the option to choose what you write. "What about one about me and. . ." You can quite literally feel his breath huffing down on you, his grip on the old chair makes a soft cracking noise at how tight he's holding onto it. "Y. . yeah! Of course!" You quickly say not wanting to hear what else he has to say..., also scared he's gonna hurt you on accident from how worked up he got. Your attention goes back on the type writer, fingers tap against the keys writing whatever comes to your mind.

"Can you make it long....? Like at the minimum one hundred pages maybe?" Your fingers freeze on the keys. "one. . ONE HUNDRED?!" Your eyes widen as you tilt your head up to look at him, his gaze is still unrelenting as ever. "Yes! Since I'm getting a 'real', authentic work of art from you personally. . . I need it to be long.. It needs to take me more than one sitting to read it! PAHAHAHAHA." Who the hell does the guy think he is. "Sure. ." You're cooked, you've only manged to write stories with at the maximum two thousand words, and now you have to achieve like what. . fifty thousand words? Hopefully- "Can you start writing? Sorry to press but you've been looking up at me for a minute now. .NOT that I don't mind. . . pahahahahahaha," Your head slowly tilts back down defeated, no way in hell you can write this much in one sitting, and having to do it sitting on this uncomfortable ass chair and someone watching every word you type. Deciding to lock in with that grindset mindset you begin typing, fingers grazing over the keys as you tap away. With Nause not injecting in every second you're able to actually write.

You've managed to successfully write a solid ten pages. You slump forward dejected. How the actual fuck are you going to finish this. Already ran out of ideas and your ass starting to hurt from the wooden chair. You shift with a soft groan, having completely forgotten about the monster looming right behind you. You jump forward, startled at the sudden voice behind you, tilting your head to see him. "How's it going Superstar? Is the chair treating you well enough PHAHAHAHA." The nerve on this guy. You give him a deadpanned stare before turning your head to face the type writer again. "It's great. Thank you very much..," Sarcasm laced your voice, a small laugh can be heard behind you then in a swift movement Nause picks you up and places you on his lap as he sits down on the chair that 'might' be a little too small for him. Your body tenses up in his grasp as his hands lay comfortably around your waist, keeping you in place. Small huffing can be heard behind you. "You can relax Superstar, I won't be hurting you...yet. phahahahahahahah. . . hah.."

How ominous! You slowly begin typing again, trying to calm your breathing or just yourself in general. But it seems like Nause isn't letting you get anywhere near finishing that damn story. He keeps on poking and prodding you with injections on what you should put in the story. "How about you make me a love interest? Make it where me and you.." His labored breathing starts up again, his grip on you tightening but he doesn't seem to care at your attempts for him to stop. "Y. . Yeah! Okay!" You quickly verbally agree to this idea instead of nodding to his other ones since this one seems to twist something inside him. Gross. His grip slowly loosens as you quickly begin writing again about him and you doing more intimate things like couples would do, but nothing too drastic.

Nause gets more comfortable as your fingers press against the keys, it seems like the noise lulls him to some extent. Was this part of one of his fantasies he's had with you? You start to feel kinda bad for the dude, he's way too obsessed with you. . a nobody. How could someone like this find you alluring? You cautiously lean back into him, oddly finding comfort in this situation. You hear his heavy breathing audibly hitch at the sudden adjustment. His arms snake around your waist completely, entraping you for good now. Not that you were complaining, it felt nice.. and comforting, in a more underlying sickening way. You shouldn't be comfortable around this guy, he's your stalker after all, in all reality did you even know anything about him besides his crippling obsession over you? No, no you didnt, you should be pushing him away but the fear, the fear of him hurting you made you stay in his lap. In the back of your mind you knew how wrong this was, how wrong it was for you to find a small twing of comfort with this sadistic monster. Maybe your desperation, the feeling of finally feeling wanted in your life, finding someone who actually wanted to be by you?

These thoughts made you feel revolted. You were actually feeling disgusted with yourself right now. A sickening feeling wrapped into your stomach, why were you trying to find some light in this situation? Was it to try and manipulate yourself into thinking that you're fine with all of. . this? You've never met anyone like this before. Never seen a person so obsessed. . devoted with you, you didn't want this, not at all. This guy is dangerous, he's unstable, and extremely unpredictable. You 'shouldnt' want this, but knowing that it's wrong only makes you crave it more. When you’re not used to attention, anything feels romantic. The way his arms are wrapped around your body as you try to focus on writing the story infront of you make you feel completed in a way. Nauses chipper voice broke you out of your thoughts, "Can you start to write the more heated stuff now? Just like in your old posts? Can you write about how you and I. ." He begins to list off in very detailed scenarios between you both. You sit there and listen to him talking non stop, you don't even think he took a break to breath. As he continues to rant about multiple of his fantasies that you should write about his grip on you gets tighter. . . and tighter to the point where it feels like he's going to break your ribs.

You yelp. Pathetically, you try to pry his hands off of you but it doesn't work. Realization sets in that he doesn't realize his death grip he has on you. You tilt your head to see him and his gaze is glossed over as he continues to ramble on about his weird fantasies. You look around the room and see that his axe is near the door, too far away to grab.You slowly lose hope, is this how you die, by the hands of your obessor? A cracking noise is what makes him stop. Your breathing chokes as you feel a sudden shot of pain near your chest. 'Did. . did he just break my rib..?' "S..SUPERSTAR? Superstar are you okay?" His voice is laced with faux worry, but you're too out of it to realize, your eyes are glued to where you felt the pain. Multiple thoughts rush through head about the pain, what were you even going to do? Nause picking you up is what breaks you out of the trance. "I think I broke your rib! PHAHAHA." Your eyebrows furrow at his laughing. He didn't seem to feel any remorse or guilt for hurting you. . . you should've known. You're a fool to have thought you felt secure next to him.

The sudden shift in surroundings jolts you out of the haze of pain and fear, as Nause carries you into a different room. The air feels heavier here, suffused with a sense of foreboding that sends shivers down your spine. The mattress beneath you feels cold and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the warmth you once sought in his twisted embrace.As your gaze wanders around the room, you are met with a display of walls adorned with an array of photographs capturing moments of your life, each one a piece of your personal history frozen in time. Surrounding you are intimate details about your existence, laid bare for Nause to see, creating a tapestry of memories and revelations that paint a vivid portrait of your identity, your life. You can't help but feel like a trapped bird, ensnared in a web woven by a predator whose intentions grow darker with each passing moment.

Nause reappeared after a brief moment, holding a small, sleek black container in his hands. As he places it beside you, his tall figure looms over, casting a shadow that seems to engulf the room. "Superstar, may I have a look at where it hurts?" he asks, his one visible eye gazing at you with an innocent curiosity. Feeling a mix of apprehension, you nod hesitantly mumbling unsure "S. . Sure," propping yourself up with your elbows. Slowly, you lift your shirt, revealing the area where your ribs are already bruising. Nause opens the container, revealing its contents - soft gauze and a cold ice pack, promising relief from the pain that gnaws at you. He begins to slowly wrap the ice pack with gauze around the side where your rib was broken, the coldness makes your body shudder and goosebumps form on your skin. His movements are carefully slow, as if he's doing it on purpose. As you finally begin to come down from your shock of how much pain you were in, soft labored breathing can be heard next to you. You wonder how long he's been like that, was him bandaging you up really making him act up. . again?

With a nervous gaze, you watch as his hands slowly guide the gauze just under chest, his eyes were trained on your exposed flesh. You cringe slighty as you notice, is that what was really bothering him? Seeing half your torso exposed? "Did you know this was one of my scenarios I've thought of before?!" Nauses somehow chipper voice rings through the quiet room. Holy fuck, he broke your rib on purpose. This revolution makes your body shudder with disgust? Anger? You couldn't really tell at the moment. "Oh. . Oh really. ." You mumbled out under your breat, distaste laced your . Nause finishes up bandaging you up and sets the container on the floor next to the bed. You quickly pull your shirt down with the energy you have left. You lay back down on the dingy bed now just feeling how tired. . exhausted you were. A sigh leaves you as your hands rub against your face, leaving them there for a second before letting then fall to your sides.

Frustration boiled inside you. This job was suppost to be quick and easy, you wernt prepared for this, for 'any' of this. This was most likely some sort of trap from your client. He set you up for failure. "Superstar, you should really get some rest. You still need to finish writing my one hundred pages story!" Your tired eyes glanced over to him, his towering frame made you feel small, pathetic. "Yeah. . goodnight.." You managed to muster out, turning around so your back faced him. Pulling the blanket up to your face, nuzzling into it. Sleep quickly came over to you. Should it worry you that he's watching you sleep? Yeah, and should you be on guard? Probally, but you've lost hope. You never really had a chance in the first place, did you?

A soft groan left your throat as you woke up, the pain from your broken rib quickly reminding you where you were. Rolling over on your back with a yawn you almost choke on your breath as you see Nause still standing over the bed. . watching you. "Were you there. . . all night?" You question him with a raised brow, you were seriously concernedfor this guy. "Of course! I had to make sure my Superstar was safe!" Of course, what more did you expect from him. You hiss out in pain as you sit up. "Can I get like an advil or something?" Your hand holds the spot where the now semi cold ice pack sits, you don't bother telling him about the temperature of it, you don't want to risk him overwhelming himself again and hurting you. . again. He seems to pause for a second, letting out an unsure noise. "I don't really have anything like that here. .The only reason I got that ice pack and stuff for you was from one of my neighbors. ." Sheepishly he rubbed the back of his neck his eye twitched with agitation, you wondered about why he couldn't just go over next door and ask for some pain meds but you didn't wanna pester him about it, he didn't seem to have the best relationship with the other residents here.

"BUT! To take your mind off of the pain you can continue writing!" Oh right, you still had to write about fifty more pages for his psychotic fanfic about you both. With the typewriter on standby he carefully sets it in your lap, to your suprise it wasn't as heavy as you thought it would be. Leaning back on the adjusted pillows behind you, you began writing. Deciding to cheap your way out, you typed every word with doubled letters to make the pages fill out quicker. After awhile, you were able to make the pages filled out faster than normal, but you quickly ran out of ideas. "Do you 'really' need a hundred pages? Im running out of ideas. Can't these perfectly crafted fifty pages be go-," Nause quickly cuts you off. "NO! I NEED those one hundred pages. I need. . . hah. ." His voice trails off as his breathing starts to get harder. In a swift motion he yanks his axe out, his grip tight on the handle, his eyes clouded with god knows what as he glares at you.

"Y. . Yeah! Of courseee..." You quickly agree scared of the axe welding monster infront of you. His grip slowly falters as his breathing goes back to normal after a couple of moments. "PAHAHAHA. . HAH.. I know how to help you!" Your expression quickly dropped, what could he mean by that? He could do litteraly anything to 'help' you, what he thinks could be 'help' could be the complete opposite to you. Multiple ideas infected your head, multiple terrible ideas, you were terrified on what he was about to do. "Since you need inspiration how about I help get your little mind in gear again!" His hand pulled down his bandana showing his sinister grin that laced his face, his sharp teeth gleamed in the dimly lit bedroom. "PHAHAHA!" He began to hysterically laugh again as he crawled onto the bed with you, on top of you. "W. . wha . ." The words you want to get out in protest, to question what he's about to do, they get stuck in your throat from fear. All you can do is stare up at him petrified with wide eyes, mouth agap.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this. .!" His eye gleamed down at you happily, in his sick twisted mind this way his way of helping you. After a moment of him just looking at you and you not giving a response, his head tilted to the side in confusion. His expression turned to one of a kicked puppy, his once toothy grin frowned. "What's the matter? Why arnt you excited? Isn't this what you've wanted?" He questioned looking confused, and a little heart broken. "I've read all your stories and one of them sounds just like this! A tall, handsome, good looking monster with an axe gets with you. I already know that the story was about me, the description matches. So. . . isn't this what you want?" You freeze, did you actually write something like that? You don't remember at all, you begin to doubt his truthfulness and think he made that up on the spot just to try and manipulate you. But, another thought did cloud your mind. When in your whole life are you going to get another chance to fuck a monster? You start to see the appeal of him, his grey skin, sinister gaze, size difference, and the fact he could kill you? A whole package deal to be honest.

"I. . I guess." Reluctantly you agree, if there's a chance you're going to die, you'll die happy. You wince under his gaze, his eyes squint happily once more as his toothy grin appears again. "Great! Even if you said no I was going to anyways!" He admits nonchalantly, what did you expect, of course he would. "Now let's get those creative gears in your head flowing with endless ideas!" His voiced changed into a slutry tone as his gaze clouded with undying lust. With his head lowered and his face just inches from yours, you can see a long, black tongue slithering out of his mouth. A soft gasp leaves your mouth at the sight, at the opportunity Nause connects his mouth with yours. His tongue snaked into your mouth, causing you to let out a choked gasp. He then left you with a sated moan as his tongue roamed around in your mouth. His hands creeped under your shirt, his rough fingers pawed at the exposed flesh of your sides, seemingly trying to ground himself.

As his knee forcefully inserted itself between your thighs rubbing against you, it felt divine. A choked whimper left your lips at the feeling, you don't even remember the last time someone was this intimate with you, it was making you feel light headed. . . No it wasn't because of that, it was the fact that Nause wasn't budging when you needed air, now. Your eyes shot open as your hands relentlessly pushed and pathetically punched against his chest, he was unmoving. With your vision starting to blur you resorted to your last idea, your hand moved down to his crotch and roughly squzzed. A low moan left his mouth as he pulled back from you panting heavily. "PHAHAHAHA. Superstar. . hah.," He stares down at your hand, licking his lips before reaching down and grabbing it. His large hand wrapped around your wrist pushing your hand harder onto him.

A low satisfied groan leaves him as he ruts against your hand. "N. .Nause..," You spoke barley above a whisper, your eyes were glued to the scene infront of you, his large clothed cock rubbing against your hand. Fuck, there's no way that was fitting inside you in anyway. "Superstar. ." His eyes never left your face. "I. . wait a second, how did it go again.." He mumbled more to himself as he took his hand off of yours and searched his pockets. After a moment he took a piece of carefully folded paper out of his pocket and unfolded it, his eyes scanned the page. "Nause. . . what is that." You could already assume it was one of your fictive stories. "It's one of my favorite pieces by you! I just forgot how it went. . bear with me for a moment Superstar. . .!" His voice trailed off twords the end as he concentrates on re freshing his memory up on supposedly what he wants to do. "Aha! Now get ready for a once in a life time experience. . . PAHAHAHAHA." He shoves the paper back into his pocket, his predatory gaze looks down at your lower abdomen. His fingers quickly did work of your pants tugging them off and discarding them on the floor.

His breathing begins to get labored again and if pupils could have heart eyes that's what he would have right now. "Finally. .!" He gets situated inbetween your thighs, now laying on his stomach, his head resting on the inner of your thigh and his callused fingers lazily tracing along the already damp clothed slit of your entrance. In a swift sudden motion he pulls his axe out from his back, holding onto the butt of the axe he slowly cuts off your underwear. Your body freezes as you stare down at him with wide, scared, yet desperate eyes. Maybe him using the axe turned you on, just a little bit. His axe hovered over the bare skin of your thighs, he seemed lost in a trance as he traced light lines above your skin.

"N. .Nause?!" Catiously you warned him with a slight waver in your tone, scared he was actually going to cut you. "PAHAHAHAHA. . . HAH.. Sorry." He haphazardly tosses the axe off the side of the bed, a thud resonates in the room from the heavy axe. "Now where were we!?" He stares at you briefly before redirecting it down to your exposed cunt. His fingers traced along your folds, letting his fingers get drenched in your slick. With his mouth hovering over your clit, he experimentally takes a long lick on it. You squirm at the feeling, thighs instinctively wanting to close, his free hand holds onto one of your thighs making sure you're spread open for him. His two fingers quickly pump in and out of you as his tongue circles and softly sucks on your clit. The obscene squeltch of your pussy sends a blush across your face, with his relentless bullying of his fingers in you, curling up into every time he pushed them in. Your hips jerked as you felt the familiar feeling of your high building up in your stomach.

Soft pants filled the room as you neared your peak, your hands gripped onto Nauses head pushing him more into you, the feeling of his tongue swirling around on you became too much. A soft moan left your mouth as you clenched around his fingers, coating them with your cum. The low groan that left Nause vibrated against you, causing your hips to jerk slighty due to the stimulation. "PAHAHA. Did I do good Superstar?" He asked teasingly while sucking hard on your clit. "Mmphh.." Is all you manage to reply from the overstimulation. Nause leans back after a moment, allowing you to catch your breath. "Now let's get to the real show! HAH. ." His unerving grin never leaving his face as he undoes the clasp of his grayish belt, quickly yanking his pants down discarding them on the floor.

You're now able to see his clothed member strained against the confines of his briefs, there's a wet spot near his tip from how much pre cum he's leaking. Your eyes widen at just how big he is again realizing that there's no way he's gonna be able to fit all of that in you. "Feeling nervous? PAHAHAHA. You look so cute when you're scared. . hehe..!" His hands grab at your shirt ripping it off of you, then unclasping your bra leaving you completely nude underneath him. His hands find there way to your chest and paw at your breast's, taking in the nip inbetween his fingers and tweening it. The noises filling in the room are your soft whines and whimpers and Nauses concerning hard breathing. "Nause. ." You mewl out impatiently. "Sorry! They're just so soft..HAH..heh.." He pinches them once more before pulling off his briefs. With him now exposed he grabbed the back of your thighs hastily, pushing them up to your chest.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this!" With his neurotic gaze set on yours he roughly pushes himself inside, pained whimpers filled the room as tears filled the corners of your eyes. The sudden intrusion with no warning did not prepare you at all. He's only able to stuff about half of himself inside you due to his size. You guess due to him being freakishly tall with a huge build he was bound to have a big cock. "So small.." He mutters with a groan into your neck. "All mine. ." He pulls out and slowly ruts back in clumsy, your gummy walls desperately try to adjust to his size. With each thrust, his movements get harsher, more needy, all consuming. With his face nuzzled into your neck, you feel something slick slither around your neck before a quick shot of pain envelopes on your shoulder.

Nause bites rather harshly, letting his teeth sink in just enough to draw blood. His tongue laps up the blood eagerly, you can feel his dick throb inside you as he gets closer to his release. His hand moves down and his rough thumb sloppily rubs circles on your clit, a choked moan leaves you at the overwhelming sensations. You thought he would be talking this whole time but he seems too caught up in the feeling to care. With his thrusts getting more sloppy and the pleasure building up in your stomach becoming too much, you clench around Nauses cock, closing your eyes at the feeling letting out a moan as you ride out your climax. Shortly after Nause rocks his hips into a few more times before shoving himself back in roughly. You shudder at the feeling of him filling you up, harsh breaths fill your ears as he's gripping onto you like you'll leave.

He stays on top of you, holding onto you as his cock slowly softens inside of you. He pulls out, laying beside you, his arms hugging you from behind, face comfortably nuzzled in your hair, taking in the scent. The feeling is comforting, as you hear his breathing soften behind you sleep begins to lull you. You sleep comfortably in Nauses arms, the dread of having to write those pages and the task of removing Nause from this room leaves your mind as sleep over takes you. The pain of your rib being forgotten, that was going to be a pain when you woke up.

[rocmxmstuff]

NauseAxe_404 as a Parent Headcanons (NauseAxe_404 x Reader)

🐑 ♡ Well. Here we are again. What has happened. Why the baby fever ♡🐑

Part of a collection of imagines and scenarios for various Monster x Mediator characters.

Teen and Up Audiences, No Warnings, F/M, M/M, Other/M, Tag(s): Headcanons, Short, Fluff, Parenting, Jealousy, Ambiguous Gender Reader, POV Second Person

Find it on ao3 ♡ WC: 412

See what you've done @silva-daemonium.

♡ He’d be terrified to hold a baby. Especially yours. If for some reason he ended up with one in his hands, and there wasn’t anyone available nearby, you can expect the baby to be left on the floor with him sat nearby. They're just so small. What if he dropped them? It doesn't matter if you solve the problem by telling him he can have the child on his lap, he'll freak out and insist he'll hurt them. That doesn't mean he's not around though. He's always happy to help with anything else, and would enjoy being close to your child. Just not too close.

♡ As the child ages, however, he’s a perfect copy all those photos of fathers holding their kids up by the ankle like some sort of fish they’ve caught. Safety? Safety is for cowards who won't grow up with denser bone structure. Something along those lines. It’s not like your kid wouldn’t treat him like some sort of climbing frame either. The harnesses on his body would make him easy to scale.

♡ He would be get sucked into whatever game was being played to the point that it would seem like he was enjoying it more than your child. Roleplay? He’s pretending to be dead on the floor. Building? You’ve got a whole cardboard house in your room by the end of the day. Self defence? It’s not a game, but he’s definitely teaching your child how to take down other humans in case of an ‘emergency’.

♡ Jealousy would be a huge issue. He recognises that it’s normal for you to show affection to your child and vice versa. Yet that same affection puts him on edge. Likewise, he would be defensive of your things. Your typewriter - sacred, nobody else is allowed to touch that apart from you (and him too obviously he bought it, but it’s yours). It would take a lot of affection, and a lot of reassurance, and a lot of long, long talks before he even starts to challenge this behaviour himself. Even then, it would never fully go away.

♡ Despite this, he tries to make up for his faults. He would take to teaching your child things with surprising ease, going as far as learning new things so he can continue to share this knowledge. This knowledge might not be right, but he’s trying. In the end, he adores the kid and wants to see them happy.

[talkbycolor]

red is my favorite color

me on my way to make an os of 404 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

[szmxsm]

(Almost) all non-humanoid fanart character I draw before. It will take me for a while to color them all (and I've started to feel tired LMAO)

叫你畫二創，不是叫你養蠱。

PS：爭鋒吃醋的兩隻，沒搞清狀況的兩隻，幸災樂禍的三隻，嘗試勸架的三隻，興致缺缺的一隻，跟觀眾對話的一隻。

[cobraaah]

404 with a reader who is really sleep deprived?? maybe something about them falling asleep on him, idk i havent been able to sleep lately

do what you will with this, keep it gn if possible <3 thx

Pairing•[Nauseaxe_404 ♡ GN!Reader]

Warings•none, just sleepy fluff, not prof read

Word count•462

A/N•ahhh yes! This is such a cute idea &3. Also sorry for how short this was, decided to quickly drabble this before I sleep

Sleep

One of the downsides of being sent on this horrid job was having to cater to this capricious of a person, or rather monster. The fact that he's forcing you to indulge in his fantasies and write this long fanfiction about the both of you was making your head hurt and was really wearing you down. A yawn crawled out of your throat for the hundredth time, sleep was eating at you. Wiggling in the uncomfortable wooden chair to readjust yourself in hopes to grant a more comfortable position, Nauses unblinking gaze shifted down to the chair then to the typewriter. A familiar unsettling giggle can be heard next to you as he spoke, "Superstar, if you need a break you can take one. .," His hard breathing lingerd at the end of his sentence, a shiver runs down your spine, you don't think you could ever get over how unerving he could be.

Glancing over at him to respond, your eyebags and obvious tired features are more noticeable to Nause now. The idea of falling asleep doesn't seem that appealing, the struggle, restlessness, the constant tossing and turning, and your mind being constantly swarmed by irritating thoughts. Sleep felt like a chore to you and the idea of taking a nap in this crappy hotel room with an axe weildimg stranger with psychotic tendencies? Yeah, no thanks. . . right? He did have some redeeming qualities like being cute? In a weird way, he charmed you with his odd quirks of knowing every single thing about you and him just relishing in every moment with you. You've warmed up to him significantly fast. Could it just be constant adrenaline of your fight or flight whenever he takes his axe out to calm down, maybe.

"I'm fine," is what you wanted to say or rather about to say before he abruptly cut you off, easily grabbing you under your arms. "PHAHAHAHA. Did you seriously think I was going to let you continue writing with how tired you are? I should've noticed how exhausted you looked earlier. . . Im sorry, please forgive me, Superstar!" The warmth of his body radiating off to you was calming you down and making sleep creep under your eyes, threatening your eyelids to shut. With no protests from you, he went over to the corner and placed you down on the unkempt bed, sliding in next to you, keeping your body close to his. Your head quickly finds a comfortable spot on his shoulder, one of your arms moving across his chest on instinct to hold him close. His odd scent of metallic and light sweet musty smell comforts you weirdly.

"Sleep tight, my Superstar," His voice soft as he holds you comfortably against him. Maybe sleeping can be nice for once.

[cobraaah]

Masterlist

<

fluff°🧸 smut°⭐️ dark/light dark°⚰️

(⚰️EX:Weird stuff?, blood, Uncomfy stuff<shrug>)

Monster x Mediator

•Nauseaxe404

×Superstar ⭐️⚰️

×Sleep 🧸

Pressure

•Sebastian Solace

×Discount ⭐️

×One⭐️

Scott Pilgrim

•Gideon

. . .empty

•Matthew

. . .empty

MCR

•Gerard Way

×Blood Sucker ⭐️⚰️

[rocmxmstuff]

May I get a fic or drabble with 404 taking care of his and reader's kid, please?

~ Silva Daemonium

Done and done! Anything for you, darling - I shall always be hopelessly and platonically your biggest simp. This was a cute request to do, though. I don't think he'll win any parenting awards any time soon - but hey, your child is still alive!

Dark Moon and Stinky Paw [Requested] (NauseAxe_404 x Reader)

🐑 ♡ Many thanks to my usual beta, Sycamore, you're the best, sweetie ♡🐑

Too sick to stay awake, you ask 404 to watch your child for a bit.

Teen and Up, No Warnings, F/M, Other/M, Tag(s): Parenting, Oneshot, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Sickness, POV Second Person, Character POV, AFAB!Reader

Find it on ao3 ♡ WC: 1,993

Thank you Silva for coming up with the name for the child! S4 is a mix up of Superstar and 404, and it's a perfect fit!

404 crouched beside the sofa with his head nestled in his arms. A fuzzy sense of warmth mingled with the intense fear that had been gnawing at his insides. You looked so frail - super adorable - but bad. Well, you didn’t look bad in the sense that you looked bad. It was just that you were so weak normally that when you were sick you sort of… Deteriorated.

It worried him.

He contemplated letting his hand slide from the armrest to check your temperature, but he didn’t want to touch you if it meant he risked disturbing your rest. You needed the sleep. Waking you up wasn’t an option, but what if you needed something and couldn’t tell him? What if you were dying?

Tears welled in his eyes at the thought.

If you were awake you would say he was being silly because your heart was still beating. He could hear it nestled away safe in your chest, and yet he worried anyway because you couldn’t directly say that out loud when you were sleeping. That was the problem. Thoughts weren’t enough. He needed you to tell him it was okay.

Instead, you’d given him a cryptic remark he was left to decipher all by himself: a nap would make you feel better. That didn’t answer how long you were meant to sleep. He didn’t know if you wanted anything from him outside of your simple request for him to watch your kid. For all he knew, it was some sort of test, and he was eager to pass it.

A whole new fear gripped him as he flew to his feet.

He was meant to be watching S4.

From where he stood by the sofa, he couldn’t see any trace of his son. His fingers flexed over the nonexistent axe that was also missing, and the image of S4 dragging it across the floor earlier leapt to the forefront of his mind. He’d been so impressed at the time that his son was strong enough to move it around that he’d never bothered to pay attention to where it was being taken.

You were going to hate him.

The thought repeated itself in his head over and over without respite as his nails dug into his palms. Sure, he’d learnt a lot about keeping himself grounded, but without his axe - he’d never done those exercises without it. It wasn’t the same. His empty hands shook in front of him while the floor seemed to drift further away from him.

You needed him.

He wasn’t going to let you down. He repeated it under his breath to combat the thoughts in his head, and he began to check around the room. Once again crouched, 404 peered beneath the sofa to see nothing but stashed photos and dust. S4 wasn’t hiding behind anything either. There was nothing.

So he moved onto the next room. Nothing again.

Panic threatened to consume him when the faint sound of the typewriter left 404 bolting through the nearest door with a bang. The walls rattled at the force of the impact, and if 404 had looked back, he would have seen the door hanging by a single hinge. It fractured into two separate boards where his shoulder had made contact with the wood.

“Pops!” S4 exclaimed, not fazed in the slightest by the sudden entrance. “Important letter. Look.”

The rip of paper from the typewriter grated on 404’s ears as his focus itself was torn between multiple things. His axe was propped up against the chair. S4 was stood unharmed on the chair waving a bit of paper in his direction. Somehow, he’d gotten into the room to use the typewriter.

“Y-you should be careful with that…” 404 began. “You know who it b-belongs to.”

“It’s okay. It’s not broken, see,” S4 motioned to the typewriter before he dropped down from the chair. He made sure to grab the handle of the axe, and he dragged it behind himself until he had sufficiently crowded 404’s shins. Despite how much the kid had grown, the height difference between them was drastic enough to leave 404 looking directly down.

All the while, he struggled to get a word in edgeways as S4 explained all about the evil ghost down the hall. Apparently, he had stolen the most dangerous poison in the world and baked it into palmiers.

“The letter said - hey!” S4 cried out before that creature like laughter spilled from him.

Hanging from the axe about seven feet from the floor, not even a good shake could throw him off of it. One hand kept itself secure to the axe while the other waved the letter in 404’s face. It was hard to laugh at the display.

Having the axe back felt good too.

He tilted it to the side so he could check S4 over. There weren’t any signs of injury on him, which also helped to calm his nerves. No matter what happened, as long both of them weren’t injured when you woke up, you’d be happy with him. That sneaking sense of pride had crept back up on him too after a few seconds ticked by.

No doubt the kid would have hung there all day if he was allowed.

There was so much of you in S4 that it would always come as a shock whenever he saw himself. The teeth had been the first indicator, and they still seemed a bit too big for his mouth. He was definitely a monster - a perfect monster given his awesome combination of parents. That didn’t mean he was ready to test if S4 was as immortal as he was, but he was definitely strong.

“The letter!” S4 pleaded. “Please!”

“What does it say?”

“It says we have to be friends with the evil ghost to steal the poison cake. But I am going to be friends with the evil ghost and steal the posion cake and kill him or he might make something bad again,” S4 explained between his laughter. “I need help.”

404 blinked idly at this, trying to piece together what was being asked of him. Was this one of those pretend ones again where nobody actually got hurt? The scenario was too suspiciously reminiscent of their baker neighbour to not warrant the thought that S4 might be plotting to attempt actual murder. How did you even kill a ghost if a ghost was dead?

No, he’d be able to.

The rabid thing in front of his face had a good shot of doing some serious damage too.

“Does that make us the heroes?” 404 asked. “Do we have a team name? I feel like if we’re going to stop evil we need a team name or something cool like that, you know how they do in that show we watched?”

As he lowered the axe to the ground, S4 let go and snapped 404 out of his hero fantasy at the way he tumbled to the ground and fell onto his back. There’d been no time for 404 to react given the unprompted action, yet S4 picked himself back up without so much of a whimper.

“The Wolves! Wolves are cool. I’m called Dark Moon. The strongest, mysterious alpha that takes down the biggest prey.” S4 began to stalk towards the doorway on all fours. “But I’d share because I’m nice too.” He stopped, and turned his head to 404.

“You’re Stinky Paw because you stink!” he laughed, speeding off before 404 could protest. He understood they were just playing, but his name sucked. At the very least he should have been Night Stalker or something.

A more pressing issue arose though as he passed by the broken door. Hopefully he hadn’t woken you up. The last thing he wanted was for your recovery to be any slower. When he entered the living room, his heart almost stopped at the sight of S4 on the table getting ready to howl.

Before he could, 404 covered his mouth. He didn’t know how he’d moved that fast, and even S4 seemed shocked as he wiggled in his grasp. A muffled voice sounded from behind 404’s hand, but he needed to speak first.

“You have to be quiet in here, okay?” 404 pointed towards you, and the voice died down. “Think you can promise me that? I have to be quiet too. Superstar needs lots of sleep to feel better…”

He released S4 who apologised in a hushed whisper, his eyes darting to the sleeping figure beside him. They both stayed like that for a moment, and 404 found himself beginning to worry again for your safety at the way you just laid there.

How long would it take for you to feel better?

He was losing himself.

“Sorry for - I’m sorry for g-grabbing you like that,” 404 soothed.

“It’s okay. I was being noisy.”

It wasn’t okay, but he appreciated that S4 was taking on board what he’d said about being quiet. Part of him wasn’t functioning great with how much he was having to repress, and he just wanted to sit by your side until you woke up again. He didn’t even notice he was staring at you until a hand found his. S4 slid from the table, unable to hold 404’s hand when he took to the floor, but he beckoned for him to follow.

And he did.

S4 guided him into his room and proceeded to remove everything from his bed.

“Carry these,” he instructed 404, who was soon holding everything from pillows, to plushies, and blankets. “Water. We need water too.”

Of course 404 also had to get the water on account of S4 not being able to reach the tap. Everything was brought back into the living room, where 404 was instructed to put the water on the table as S4 took the blanket and wrapped it over your sleeping frame.

“I don’t think a blanket is a good idea…” 404 piped up. When asked why, he told S4 to check your temperature. He gasped, shooting off into another room and leaving 404 to put a pillow beneath your head. He slid it beneath you with baited breath, terrified he was going to wake you up in the process. At least he was finally doing something good for you.

S4 sped back through carrying a handful of tissues. Water trickled from between his fingers. There was a trail on the carpet to show where he’d been, and he squeezed the excess water out before placing it on your forehead.

“Oh, good idea!” 404 said. “Is it cold?” S4 nodded, asking for help folding up the blanket that they placed beside you in case you wanted it later.

“Do you think Super Fang will need anything else?”

Despite the twinge of annoyance that your name was better than his too, 404 shook his head. You deserved an awesome name, and you deserved to feel better. If there was anything else they could do, he was sure he would have thought of it.

S4 gave you a hug for good measure though, and he was careful not to wake you up as he told you to hang on a little longer.

“We’re going to get the life potion for you Super Fang,” S4 said. “Then you will feel better. I love you.”

404 watched as S4 kissed you on the cheek, and he stepped in to hurry along his son.

“Go listen and see if the evil ghost is in. We’ll need to plan our first move around whether or not he is, Dark Moon,” 404 said, and S4 left the room at breakneck speed. A piercing howl sounded in the hallway, and they definitely didn’t have stealth on their side. But 404 had you for a second.

Just you.

“I love you the most,” he breathed, brushing his lips against yours. “Feel better soon, my Superstar. I can’t live without you.”

[cobraaah]

CHAT. PLEASE JUST GIVE ME A DAY OR TWO. The Nauseaxe_404 smuutttt is taking way longer than I thought it would be. . . It's now at 7k words. I'm mentally unwell. Help. It wasn't intentional for it to be this long😭

[rocmxmstuff]

An Untitled Story in the Making (Nause_Axe404 x Reader)

🐑 ♡ But what if the main character was just as broken inside, huh, what then ♡🐑

Two broken people sit in front of a typewriter.

Explicit, Graphic Violence, F/M, M/M, Other/M, Tag(s): Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Self Harm Thoughts, Self Harm, Escpaism, Fluff and Angst, POV Second Person, Ambiguous Gender Reader, POV First Person

Find it on ao3 ♡ WC: 1,273

Money wasn’t an issue anymore, you knew that. But you could see the way it would disappear in time, and you knew it meant nothing really. No amount of money could ever fix what you felt. Nor could a stable job or years of therapy. Every step you had taken towards the hotel had felt like a fever dream.

You didn’t hate yourself, you were just at war with the emotions inside of you.

See, it’s weird to love yourself and feel like you’re imploding. It’s weird to see yourself in the mirror and recognise yourself as the being that’s put the most work into looking after yourself. Yet you see your face, and all you see are the images of it broken and bloody. Relieved.

If it would make you happy, would you do it?

You’d been asking yourself that a lot recently. And when you got to the hotel, you’d decided that if you ever died, you would want to wake up in a room with a laptop. Self care wouldn’t be something you’d need to do anymore because you would be a ghost. That meant you could just relax.

There wouldn’t be a body to destroy, and you wouldn’t have to worry about anything other than how to pass the time. Yes, your mental health was telling you that and it wasn’t what you thought, but the thoughts in your body were in your body. Sometimes distinguishing between who was speaking was too much effort for your tired mind.

Part of you liked to suffer if you could still hold a knife to your chest and feel the skin snag half way through an incision. It took a little bit more force when that happened. Possessed, it had cut right through while you writhed under your own corrupted touch. You’d almost thrown up, but it had felt so good.

You’d admired the wound on your body like it was the only good thing about you.

“Write.”

You did. The cramped room was a reflection of every other cramped room you had written in on office breaks, late nights, and some of the lowest points of your life. That was to say it gave you some sense of comfort. A typewriter didn’t have the familiar glow of a laptop, but the tick tick tick of each letter you stamped onto the page was a nice change.

At some point it became white noise that you’d miss when you stopped to listen to the monster beside you. A few simple requests were all he gave you. All you had to do was write what he asked and leave it for him and only him to read, and you could stay there forever. There was an axe by his side like a reminder of how little you had to lose anyway.

He could do what you were always too weak to do.

Yet he promised you more than that. Amidst all of his rambling, he said something that had been glaringly obvious from the moment you had stepped through the front door. You were in his room right where he wanted you. You were everything to him. You kept him alive even when you drove him so crazy he wished he was dead.

“I love you. And I can’t live without you.”

Something inside of you reared its ugly head at the confession. Obsession and love were two sides of the same coin, right? He questioned that himself, but he seemed reassured that they were. Who were you to argue? At the end of the day, you weren’t one to turn down such a perfect opportunity. Both of you could get what you wanted.

IN THAT DARK FUCKING ROOM JUST YOU AND ME IN FOR THE RIDE IM DONE TRYING TO HIDE PICK ME LIKE A FLOWER IN BLOOM TEAR OFF MY LIMBS ONE BY ONE.

The tick of the typewriter didn’t return while you processed his words. Of course, he broke into more chatter - a new topic this time. He complimented your outfit, and you turned to smile at him. You wondered if he felt the same need to escape his own skin too. Did he want to crawl under yours? It was a place you would welcome him into.

OPEN ME UP AND TIP ME OUT MAKE IT HURT BECAUSE I CAN'T HURT MYSELF AND I HURT TOO MUCH SO I WANT YOU TO DO IT FOR ME WHILE YOU TELL ME YOU LOVE ME.

Silence descended over you as you looked at him. Everything about his posture screamed tension, and for someone who hated it when things got complicated, he sure seemed to have a lot of complicated emotions. When you thanked him for telling you that your outfit suited you, his breath hitched. Suddenly, the compliments keep coming.

THE GOOD OLD TWO IN ONE TEAR ME THE FUCK APART LOVE ME LIKE I WANT TO LOVE ME HURT ME LIKE I WANT TO HURT ME.

There air felt heavy. Maybe it was the way that his kind words had taken a dark turn when he told you that he thought the way you slept was cute. He wanted to slot you by his side on a night and protect you while you dreamed. Somewhere, he fumbled his words, apologising for disturbing you once again.

You didn’t mind though. In fact, you asked him to do you a favour. Everything ached inside, but you wouldn’t say you were numb. Rather you understood how he felt when he got pent up. There was so much happening inside of you and all of it screamed one thing. Between the images of his axe in your skull, there he was in your arms.

“Can you move closer, please?”

Love was all you wanted. Whatever form it took, you were grateful for it, but it was never enough. You needed someone to love you the way he did. In your desperate bid to cling to life, you needed someone who could suffocate you.

The scrape of a chair being dragged closer was accompanied by a soft warmth that radiated off of him.

“Like this, is this c-close enough? I don’t think I can, ha, get much closer to you… This is so close,” he stammered.

“That’s fine. You’ll be able to see what I’m writing better,” you responded in kind. From by your side he could watch you write while you detailed the wonderful life you would escape into together. It was full of peaceful afternoons, and there were plenty of times where you got to laugh.

Part of you realised that you needed to include writing in there too since you enjoyed it so much. You weren’t going to deny yourself the opportunity to write sweet love letters in that world. Nor were you going to deny yourself the ability to find an escape. Then as you escaped into one world, you could escape the next.

Ouroboros.

The pain of eating your own tail would bring you back to reality one way or another, though.

“That’s amazing,” you heard from beside you. “This is why I adore you writing, my superstar! Nobody else could start a story that beautifully and convey so much meaning.”

“I’m only three sentences in!” you exclaimed. The way he smiled over the rim of his bandana left you flushed - genuine adoration written across his expression before he bursted into laughter. It’s a deep laughter that shook his sides and left the pair of you beaming when he’s finished.

“That’s what I mean, you’re so amazing!”

You can’t help but smile as you continue to write despite it all.

[talkbycolor]

monster x mediator headcanons . . . ↷

A/N; mghmgh lo necesito (sexual)

Pairing; "NauseAxe_404" x GN!Reader

CW; weird shit? no bro only him mutilating you / feeling unsafe (cutely) / MONSTER COCK MY FAVORITE / smooching the monster under your bed

404 as delulu king

i need him to have a long tongue, its canon in my head

before you even met, he swore you were a couple, he'll propose to you in a cringe-y way if you decide to stay in the room for more than five minutes

He will cut off your arms and legs as long as you don't escape, but don't worry, he will take good care of you and will look for other ways so you can continue writing

if you stay in the room, you can sleep in his bed, he will sleep under it (we all know he will get up while you sleep to hug you)

you can't talk to another human or monster anymore, you were supposed to be together forever, WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO GET CLOSE TO SOMEONE ELSE, IF THEY SEE YOU THEY WILL LOVE YOU AND HE DON'T WANT THAT

the walls of his room are full of drawings of you and him, photos too since his artistic skills cannot portray your beauty very well and to be honest, neither can the cameras but he loves to see you wherever he turns his gaze

no matter how scared or angry you look, in his eyes, you would never do anything wrong, it is impossible for his superstar to make a mistake in any way, all your writings are perfect, your voice, your body, your eyes, your skin, your teeth, your hair, everything

he's basically a dog, he can't help but gasp with excitement when he sees you, rubbing his crotch against you, drooling in your face even if you complain, he's not going to stop

"you bruise so beautifully", imperfections do not exist, he may be fucking you until he tears you but his look of love will not disappear, on the contrary, he will fall in love with your whimpers, with how you scream in such an adorable way

on the contrary, if you seem bored, he will ask you to hit him, take off his pants, cover him with bruises, all for love (cuarteto referencia)

you are still human, you need to eat, sleep, breathe. WELL FUCK YOU, you won't go anywhere even if it's just to look for food, you can sleep in his bed, you can breathe his air if you have to but don't go DON'T GO DON'T GO DON'T GO DON'T GO

to be honest, you wouldn't be able to stand his pace, he'll fuck you until you vomit, even if you're bleeding, he'll feed you his saliva and your limbs will give in sooner than you think. but don't worry, he will continue loving your corpse

how many opportunities would you have to dress your superstar? He would take the opportunity to get adorable clothes and dress yourself with his own hands, putting slippers on your feet, cute bows in your hair, you don't need underwear, awww, look at you! such a pretty doll

he would never let you touch his axe, i'm sorry my love, but you have to respect his limits in the relationship, if you don't, do you really love him? of course he would never doubt the love you have for him! he just want understanding from you, dear

if you are willing, i also understand you, if they do give you the option to fuck a monster, you just take it but keep in mind that you will not be able to go to the hospital, that night you will know the true meaning of monster cock, it does not fit through your mouth and i highly doubt that it will fit your ass

even though he looks so desperate and willing to do unethical things, your biggest fan is a little shy. if you show him affection or interest, the red on your lips will sync perfectly with the red in his eyes. isn't that romantic?

he's smarter than you think, he probably used his ax quite a bit before you showed up at the hotel. it is a relief that you had never covered the camera of your cell phone or computer while you masturbated, after showering, while sleeping even, and yes, he obviously hacked your electronic devices

idk man, he seems pretty acoustic to me, you and axes as special interests, unstable reactions to changes he cannot control, poor understanding of other people's body language or facial expressions, specific way to organize or have his room

"babe give me a reason not to kill those who look at you" "you can't fuck me if you're in prison"

no es un chico malo, solo quiere ser él mismo

"everyone is so mean to me"

MAN I JUST LOVE HIM MY DELULU KING UEUEUUE

you don't have to say "I can fix him", he himself will tell you "FIX ME" (spoiler: you cant)

he looks cute when he cries, doesnt he?

♡

[talkbycolor]

MC: i wanna strangle you sometimes

404: hOLY shit, that's hot

[talkbycolor]

Monster x Mediator AU

human NauseAxe_404 x Demon GN!Reader

where MC is a little-known demon who has helped artists throughout history to beautify their works, in exchange for taking away their sanity to feed themselves. "Nick" is an obsessed fan of their work, he has researched those they had helped for so long so he decides to invoke them.

but not to have more creativity, he wants that beautiful poetry straight from the source so he asks the devil to write for him.

MC was always the mastermind of the art without receiving any credit, they think that "Nick" wants to sell the writings without the need to lose his consciousness but instead, "Nick" asks for more and more, continually proclaiming how beautiful they are, how amazing are those works and how he would love to read more and more.

the works of the devil are increasingly beautiful thanks to a source of inspiration taken from love, love adopted by the enormous human, "Nick" does not tire of adoring each piece so intensely as if it were going to burn before the eyes of he.

always the dreamer, never the dream

that is until they met "Nick."

[talkbycolor]

guys its happening

my canon event, i can already feel the axe