#I’ll be gagged and bound the whole time so I won’t even fight back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

voraciousvore · 5 months

Text

The Half-Blood Giant (41/51)

***Contains unwilling safe soft vore and fatal hard vore/ gore***

Chapter 41: Predator

“Hunter… I haven’t eaten since…” Hannah shivered at the memory of the giant swallowing her whole. “I haven’t eaten in almost two days… and I’m so thirsty…”

“I’ll take care of you, my pet,” Hunter purred down to her, his voice rumbling through his vast chest. Hannah wanted to retch at the pet name, which was far from endearing considering that she was his captive. He sat up and got out of bed—a simple act for him, but Hannah could feel the raw power of his muscles as he moved, fully aware of his immense size compared to her. She was terrified of what he was capable of if she angered him. She kept silent as he took her to the sink and held her next to the faucet so she could drink. She slurped the water greedily until her thirst was slaked.

“We’ll have to go to the cafeteria for food,” Hunter informed her. “However… I can’t have you making any noise…”

“I promise I’ll be quiet,” Hannah piped up, a bit too eagerly. Hunter looked down at her cupped in his palm, tilting his head skeptically. Hannah flashed him a weak, uncertain smile. If she could just get around other people, where her cries could be heard, she’d have a fighting chance…

“No…” Hunter mumbled, shaking his head. “That won’t do.” As he examined her, his huge eyes lit up. “I have an idea.” He stomped around the giant dormitory, jostling Hannah in his enclosed hand as he searched for something. Hannah grabbed his fingers for support, feeling dizzy from all the movement. Finally, he found what he was looking for and triumphantly held up a roll of tape. Hannah’s heart sank into her stomach.

Hunter cut a small strip of fabric off the edge of an old shirt that no longer fit his tremendous bulk and handed it to Hannah. “Put this in your mouth.”

Hannah stared at the rag in her hand before looking back up at Hunter, eyes blazing. “Absolutely not!”

The giant loomed over her darkly. She couldn’t help but cower as she craned her neck back to meet his eyes. “It’s either this, or you go back in my stomach.” Hannah stuffed the rag in her mouth so fast she almost choked on it. “All the way, Hannah.” Eyes watering, she forced the last bit between her jaws.

Hunter gestured for her to collect her hair and lift it up. Once she complied, he wrapped a thick strip of tape tightly around her mouth and head, looping it several times before sticking it down. He made sure not to tape her nose so she could breathe. Hannah tested the gag and tried to talk, but she could hardly make a single sound. Her voice was muffled enough that no giant would be able to hear her, even if one was standing right next to Hunter. She tugged at the tape with her fingers, but it was too tightly wound and heavy-duty for her to peel it off with her teeny nails.

After a moment of consideration, Hunter bound her wrists and ankles with tape as well. She shot him a scathing glare, but he was pleased with himself. “It’s for your own good, my pet,” he assured her, dropping her into his pants pocket. As much as he would prefer to hold her in his hand, or put her in his breast pocket, he worried she would be spotted with how frisky she could get. He stuck the roll of tape in his opposite pocket.

He was grateful to have her restrained and silenced after the bell rang, because soon enough his classmates came swarming back. Hunter sauntered off to the cafeteria as if nothing were amiss. He noticed that his constant cravings to eat humans weren’t as strong, now that he had eaten a few and kept Hannah in his belly for so long. Even his regular hunger was subdued. He wondered to himself, yet again, if his body was feeding off of more than just their physical forms. He almost appeared to draw magical energy from consuming them. His height expansion didn’t hurt his body so much.

He picked up his supplemental meal from the lunchroom and snuck over to one of the empty classrooms. He didn’t find it hard to avoid people or stay out of sight, since he could sniff them out long before they could see him. He shut the door behind him and waited until the building was mostly deserted before removing Hannah from his pocket.

“Remember, keep your voice down,” he admonished firmly. “Any excessive yowling or trying to run, and you’ll be a part of my dinner right here.”

Hannah gave him a timid nod. She trembled as his gargantuan hands reached for her, surrounding her. He was as gentle as possible as he carefully peeled the tape off her head. Tears came into her eyes as a few tufts of hair were ripped out, but she didn’t whine or complain, even when her face was free. She spat out the thick rag in her mouth and flexed her cramped jaw. Hunter released her little arms as well, feeling how small and delicate they were as he pinched them between the plump tips of his fingers. His heart burst with adoration for her, and even more so when he remembered that she belonged to him now. He couldn’t resist, while he was holding her arms, leaning his head down a pressing a soft kiss on her diminutive hands. Hannah whimpered with fear and trembled as his warm breath bathed her palms. Her memory of being eaten alive was still too fresh in her mind.

Hunter’s lips lingered on her hands. With her so close to his mouth, his stomach came alive inside him, like a hungry beast awakening from a long hibernation. He wanted to taste her again, to feel her inside his mouth and gut. His lips parted. Gently, he ran the tip of his tongue over her feminine hands, dissolving into sensual bliss. Hannah tried to pull away, but she couldn’t escape, even when he only held her arms gently pinched between his finger and thumb. Her struggles only excited his predatory appetite further.

The giant managed to restrain himself and released her hands. She wiped her hands on her pants with disgust. She wanted so badly to run, to scream obscenities at him, to lash out—but she knew such actions would be folly. The last thing she desired was to arouse the wrath of a giant who held so much power over her.

Hunter served Hannah a human-sized portion of food and began demolishing the lion’s share of his meal. She forced herself to eat, despite her nausea. As she watched the giant shovel in mammoth bites, she was reminded of her burning question earlier. With the overwhelming stress and fear she was under, just trying to survive with Hunter, she had forgotten about Hector. She almost didn’t want to ask, because she feared the truth. On the other hand, not knowing was worse. She procrastinated, finishing up her meal while the giant aggressively scarfed down his. When it was all gone, he looked disappointed, as if the nutrients were insufficient to sustain his mass. She didn’t like the wolfish gleam in his eye as he turned his attention back to her.

“Um, Hunter?” she began nervously. He leaned in with interest, his chair creaking under his weight. Hannah licked her lips, but forced herself to continue. “What happened to Hector?”

Hunter’s countenance twitched with an inscrutable, yet intense, emotion. “Nothing,” he lied.

“Tell me the truth.”

“I am.”

“I know he went missing.”

“That had nothing to do with me.”

“Bullshit.”

“Don’t try my patience,” the giant growled with the undercurrent of a threat, but Hannah was undeterred. Now that she initiated this line of questioning, she was certain he was obscuring an ugly truth.

“What did you do to him?” Hannah’s voice cracked with intensity. Hunter, enraged by her insolence, smashed his fist onto the desk next to her, eliciting a frightened yelp. The vibration knocked her over and she scurried to the opposite edge of the desk, as far away as she could get. His face softened slightly as he saw how much he had scared her.

“Come here, Hannah,” he said in a low voice as he circled his hands around her. She pushed against his palms in resistance as he reeled her back in. He set his chin on the desk and gave her a doleful look, studying her. She was frazzled, upset, overwhelmed. He didn’t want to tell her, and distress her further, but she wouldn’t believe his lies any longer; he had no choice but to cast aside his deceit. “I don’t know how else to say this…” He bit his lip. “Hector’s gone.”

Hannah stiffened. “W-what do you mean?” she stammered, despite knowing exactly what he meant. She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to believe it. She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, cover her ears, and scream. Yet, she stood frozen, pushed against Hunter’s palm, intensely aware of every intricate detail from the ridges of the skin to the bones and muscles underneath. She focused in on those details, every sensory input, not wanting to see the bigger picture.

“Hector’s dead. I ate him and digested him,” Hunter admitted. He betrayed no remorse. The murder had been premeditated, calculated, ruthless. Hector was nothing more to him than an obstacle in his path that needed to be snuffed out. A piece of meat to be eaten. His kindness, his empathy, all his efforts to take the initiative to be a good friend to a loner—wasted on a brute who eliminated him as soon as he got in his way.

Hannah suspected the truth, but to actually hear it confirmed directly from the giant’s mouth brought her to her knees. She was in shock, hardly able to breathe. Her eyes welled up with tears and her mouth gasped open and closed like a fish. “No…” she whispered. “It can’t be…”

Hunter didn’t know what to say, so he merely observed her mental breakdown in silence. She pummeled his palm with her fists and cried for a while, until she ran out of energy and slumped to the surface of the desk in despair. Hunter allowed her to lay there for a while as she sobbed and moaned. He stroked her gently, but she didn’t seem to notice or care. She didn’t react, even when Hunter nudged her into his hand and held her against his chest again, or when he taped her up and gagged her, forcing the rag into her mouth when she wouldn’t do it herself. She was completely broken. She went limp in his pocket, swayed by the massive pillar of his muscular leg as he walked.

While Hunter had expected this sort of reaction from her, he hoped that she would recover quickly. He figured she just needed a little time. He reached his hand into his pants pockets and encircled her loosely with his fingers. He caressed her back with his thumb, trying to soothe her. He continued about his business for the rest of the day, taking her out of his pocket when he was alone and holding her tenderly.

His heart ached to gaze upon her in such defeated despair, but soon his thoughts turned more to his aching belly. Her superlative scent made his mouth water with hunger. He craved her flesh to fill his empty stomach, which pined for her with a low rumble. Hunter didn’t want to leave her wrapped up in tape all day and night, and he couldn’t leave her unattended while he was asleep. He figured the best and most logical choice was to eat her: The fact that he desperately wanted to eat her may have influenced his line of reasoning, of course.

When he was ready to sleep, he stepped outside into the cool night air so nobody would witness him devouring her or overhear her screams. He paced off a little ways to a secluded spot and started peeling the tape off her limbs and face. The patches of skin exposed to the tape were red from the pressure. Hunter rubbed the affected areas down with the tip of his finger to recirculate the blood. Hannah winced, but she was too drained to protest or resist. Besides, she was weary of her restraints.

Hunter permitted her a moment to enjoy the cool, calm night, before she would be swallowed down into the much hotter eternal night of his belly. The streetlights cast soft, bright haloes to illuminate the sidewalks and living sparks of flying moths and insects. Crickets and frogs chirped in a melodic ambience. Hunter sighed, drinking in the cool breeze and absently playing with Hannah in his hand. She seemed to take no solace in anything around her. What a shame.

“It’s time for bed, my beloved,” Hunter remarked with a yawn. Hannah failed to react, not realizing through her fog of mourning the intent behind his words. Hunter raised her up over his head and opened his drooling mouth wide, wanting to savor the moment as long as possible. His belly growled fiercely with longing.

Hannah snapped out of her stupor. “Wait, no!” she screeched as he lowered her, kicking and flailing, towards his open jaws into her worst nightmare. His tongue emerged from his mouth like a coiled snake and licked the entire length of her leg, from her hamstring to heel. Hannah shrieked and tried to bat his tongue away, but Hunter just chuckled and hummed with delight over her irresistible flavor.

“It doesn’t matter what you do, you have no strength to resist me,” Hunter purred, lowering her between his lips and teeth. Hannah screamed and punched one of his front teeth, only managing to bruise her knuckles. His tongue rose up again to receive her, curling around her back like a hammock. Hannah stared down in horror at the fleshy abyss of the throat below her, the muscles and tonsils throbbing slightly as the giant prepared to swallow her. She tried to brace her hands and feet on the slick, bumpy surface of his tongue, but she couldn’t gain any sort of hold and slipped down uselessly.

Her screams were cut off as Hunter let go of her, dropping her all the way inside, and closed his mouth. He intended to play with her on his tongue originally, but her squirming and screaming excited him so much he couldn’t hold himself back. She slid straight into his gullet and he swallowed eagerly, sucking her down his throat with ease despite her struggles. He sighed as his throat muscles shuttled her down to his belly. He could never tire of the feeling of eating a living human. The experience was such a rush of exquisite pleasure. He wished he could keep her inside him forever.

His nose twitched with the recognition of a nearby scent, and his eyes glowed as they caught the light, just like a wild beast. Hunter scowled as he lunged forward to a patch of untrimmed grass. A squeal emitted from the inadequate hiding place as the giant’s fingers pinched a tiny teenager concealed in the weeds. He lifted the wriggling human with a nasty glare.

“Ah! Let go of me! I didn’t see a thing!” the student, a miniature male, cried out with terror. He realized immediately he had fumbled his words and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He wailed as Hunter’s huge eyes squinted into a hostile glare that curdled his insides. “Please, I won’t tell anyone, spare me!”

Hunter hesitated for only a moment as he regarded the tiny student in between his fingers. He recognized the boy, with his little glasses. He was the one that Hunter confessed his secret of being part human. He knew too much already; Hunter needed to get rid of him, which he was more than happy to do. In that moment, Hunter realized the truth: True to his name, true to his nature, he really was a hunter, a predatory beast, just like his father. The giant blood ran strong in his veins. His bloodlust was overpowering, his desire not only to eat his prey but to enjoy the hunt, the kill, the slaughter. He wanted to rip and tear.

So he did. He inserted the screaming human in his jaws and bit down with a satisfying crunch. A warm burst of blood filled his maw and he greedily slurped it down, gulping severed limbs and entrails along with it. A few more crunches and the boy was gone. Hunter sucked the blood off his teeth and licked his lips and fingers clean. The human tasted exactly how he smelled—just like a hot dog. Contented, Hunter returned to the dorm, collapsed into bed, and fell asleep.

Inside his belly, Hannah heard Hunter swallowing and the splash of chunks falling into the acid pool. She didn’t want to know what else he had ingested, but the churning of the stomach inevitably brought her in contact with a severed arm. She felt the distinctive structure of the fingers and hand and recoiled in horror as she recognized what it was. She nearly vomited in disgust. Hunter had violently eaten another human—just like he did to Hector—and now she’d be swimming with the liquefying remains all night. If she had the faintest inclination to sleep, which she certainly didn’t want to do after the last time she slept and ended up in Hunter’s bowels, any hint of it was banished. She was haunted. If she fell out of favor with Hunter, she had no doubts he would digest her too. She needed to find a way to escape his clutches, at any cost.

Chapter 42

Chapter 1

2 notes · View notes

fanimesenseiwrites · 3 years

Text

Things the MC would bring back to their demon bois from the mortal realm:

Lucifer:

MC goes to second hand stores and vintage shops always on the look out for vinyl records that they think Lucifer would like.

Most of the time they try and bring back stuff he'd actually like, such as Tchaikovsky or Vivaldi

Once, they brought back Stravinsky's Firebird Suite and Lucifer wouldn't stop kissing them (once they were in the privacy of his room of course)

Sometimes the MC will bring back more modern music just because it makes them think of him

"I dunno, I just listen to Hozier and think of you"

Lucifer doesn't like all the modern music they bring back but he appreciates the sentiment just the same

Then there's the gag gifts...

Any kind of music that has a reference to the devil or Satan or hell is fair game

These gifts usually elicit an eye roll from the eldest brother but he keeps them all the same

This is why Lucifer owns a copy of "The Devil Went Down To Georgia"

So when MC brings back a copy of Giuseppe Tartini's Violin Sonata in G minor, they're a little surprised at Lucifer's delighted reaction

"You know, I was the one who visited Tartini in his dreams."

MC's mind = blown.

"Also, this copy is cursed. I know you know how much I enjoy cursed vinyls."

"I- wait... What?!"

MC is very upset that they had a cursed vinyl in their possession this whole time

Mammon:

This boy loves stuff, and he loves MC, so he's gonna love any gift really

But MC knows he loves treasure and jewels and as much as they'd love to just bring him back nice watches and jewelery...

MONEY IS A THING, AND MC IS NOT MADE OF IT.

So MC settles for semi-precious stones instead

They always find fun and beautiful stones at museums and those metaphysical stores and they always pick out one that reminds them of Mammon

They're really nervous when they give him his first gift

"Hey, I got this for you and I know it's not fancy or expensive but I saw it and thought of you and I just wanted you to have it."

Mammon will love them until they die. He is really just so touched that MC thought of him. He'll try and play it cool though

He totally fails. MC won't tell him that though

MC brings him Lapis Lazuli and tells him it reminded them of his eyes and Mammon is now a puddle of lovesick goo on the floor

Mammon puts more shelves in his room dedicated to all the gifts MC gives him

One time MC brings him back some fool's gold in a teeny little jar on a chain, so that he can wear it

"Fool's gold? Why cuz I'm a fool?" Mammon asks with a roll of his eyes.

"What? No, cuz I'm a fool for you."

Mammon only love MC until they die? WRONG.

He's gonna love them forever now

He was gonna do that anyways

Leviathan:

C'mon, this boy is easy. Anime/manga stuff and TSL. Need I say more?

At first he'll be suspicious of MC wanting to give him gifts, but once they've convinced him that they're doing it out of the kindness of their heart he's really touched

The first thing the MC brings him is a pen with a little Ruri-Chan on the end of it

"I know it's not much, but I just happened to see it and I knew you'd like it"

Like it??????

HE LOVES IT! HE'S OVER THE GODDAMM MOON.

He's never seen anything like this in the Devildom and he doesn't think about the small stuff usually because he's too busy trying to get the big collectors edition items. So he actually really loves this.

MC continues to bring him cute small stuff like buttons and keychains and Levi loves them all.

His favorite item(s) that MC brought him is a pair of Lord of Shadows and Henry BFF enamel pins

He definitely tackle hugged MC when he got them

He gives the Lord of Shadows pin back to MC so they can each have one and show off their BFF status with them

Satan:

MC loves going to second-hand bookstores to shop for Satan.

Satan also appreciates new books, but there's something special about how his face lights up when he finds something old or rare. Anything with a little bit of history to it.

Of course, finding rare books for not a lot of money is a rare event in itself

So a safe bet is to bring Satan non-fiction, the boy loves to learn

But he really loves it when MC puts thought into finding fiction books that he would like

"I just really feel like you'd like Dean Koontz so I brought you one of my favorites by him."

Satan loves those gifts the most because he can talk to MC about the books afterwards

Satan's absolute favourite gift is a leather bound copy of Arabian Nights though

"I was thinking we could read this one together"

"Like you read it to me and pretend to be Scheherazade?" Satan suggests.

MC is flustered at the connotation of the suggestion but agrees anyways

The time they spend together reading that story will forever be one of Satan's favorite memories

Asmodeus:

He's a little harder to shop for than the MC had originally imagined

They tried bringing him make-up and skin care, which Asmo always graciously accepted, but he never seemed super excited about the gifts

But what else is to be expected from the guy who already uses only the best products?

MC suddenly gets an idea when they send Asmo a selfie of them at the park

- OMG! You're so cute! And the background is pretty too!-

MC starts dressing up and going to nice and beautiful places just with the intention of taking pictures

Botanical Gardens, museums, downtown skylines, anything that would make for a good picture

MC goes full on aesthetic art hoe just for Asmo

Only the best pictures get sent to Asmo

Asmo is LIVING for the looks their MC is serving up

- You are absolutely STUNNING! I'm in awe at these AMAZING pictures-

MC makes a scrapbook of the best pictures to give to Asmo the next time they see him

Asmo loves it and keeps it on display in his room always

Also, Asmo definitely makes MC their personal photographer after seeing the wonderful shots they took

Beelzebub:

Obviously, the boy loves food. He's always down to try new snacks from the mortal realm.

But MC wonders if there's something better that they could bring him

One day MC is at GNC for supplements for themself when they notice the workout supplements and get an idea

They grab some fun flavored protein powder and some BCAAs and a really nice shaker bottle just for Beel

Beel is actually really excited to get these gifts!

The Devildom doesn't have fun flavors of protein powder and the shaker bottle is such a great idea!

MC always brings new flavors of protein back for Beel, doing their best to find the weirdest flavors for him to try

Beel's favorite is definitely Birthday Cake.

MC starts bringing him new stuff to try too, protein bars, recovery supplements, collagen, and superfoods shakes

Beel tries everything and tells MC what their favorites are

"I love the BCAAs, I just wish the Devildom had them..." *sad Beel noises*

MC may or may not talk to Diavolo about researching BCAAs and getting them produced and sold in the Devildom

The supplements MC brings actually help Beel with his workouts and to control his hunger (a little)

Beel actually gets hotter??? Who knew that was possible???

MC definitely takes advantage of Beel's new 8-pack 😏😏😏

Belphegor:

What do you get the boy who only wants to sleep?

MC has gotten him stuffed animals and blankets and even a couple of nice pillows, but nothing seems to excite him

... but maybe that's just his personality??

It's not until MC accidentally leaves a sweater in the Devildom, that they figure it out

- You left your sweater down here- Belphie texts MC.

- Oh no, I'll just get when I come to visit y'all again-

- That's fine. I like having something that smells like you-

And the light bulb went off in MC's head.

Every time MC goes to visit they leave a shirt or sweater behind for Belphie, so that he can have something that smells like them.

Belphie loves how MC smells, its like a sweet dream all the time. It helps him sleep better when they're gone.

Belphie starts to complain when MC is gone longer than the item they left smells like them

(Which is every time)

So MC will start leaving Belphie more than one item, packing them in airtight bags so he can use them one after another until they return

Belphie can and will fight anyone who tries to take MC's clothing

"Mammon, you have two seconds to put that sweater back or I will kill you."

And Lucifer probably won't stop him

Diavolo:

He's honestly the easiest to please.

He's so fascinated with any thing that humans do that he'll enjoy any gift from the human world.

MC's first gift to him is a rubber duck.

"The duck is wearing a crown so it made me think of you and I just thought it was cute."

"I love it! What's its purpose?"

"Uh... to float around in the bathtub with you and look cute?"

"Isn't that what you're for?"

Diavolo loves the rubber duck so much it gets his own silk pillow to rest on when it's not taking a bath with Diavolo.

MC brings him cute pens, and keychains sometimes bottles of wine if the bottle is cute.

"The bottle is shaped like a cat! Isn't that delightful?!"

MC's proudest moment was when they found a full and intact tea set at the thrift store

Diavolo immediately fell in love with it.

He insists on only using that set when having tea with MC

But his favorite gift will always be the rubber duck.

Barbatos:

He'll insist that he doesn't need any gifts but that won't stop the MC.

MC is with him in the kitchen in the Demon Lord's Palace when they get an idea.

KITCHEN TOYS.

Barbatos works so hard, he deserves some things to make his life easier and liven up the bland kitchen

MC's first gift is a vegetable spiralizer.

"You use it to turn zucchini and squash and the like into noodles so that you can do fun stuff with vegetables!"

Barbatos accepts it graciously, but he'll probably never use it.

MC brings him spices from the mortal realm and Barbatos actually really loves those.

When MC brings him a food processor, he offers to cook for them right then and there

Despite all the weird gadgets MC ends up bringing him, and there are plenty out there, Barbatos's favorite is a ladle that looks like a stegosaurus.

It's far more whimsical than anything he would've ever picked out, and he'll never use it, but only because he's afraid of ruining it, not because he doesn't love it.

At some point, Barbatos does ask MC to stop bringing him kitchen gadgets

"Why? Do you not like them?" MC asks with a pout.

"I appreciate all of them, but I have everything I need when you're in the kitchen with me."

If MC wasn't already in love with him they are now

Smooth bastard just doesn't want anymore shit in his kitchen

5K notes · View notes

peachy-panic · 3 years

Text

WHUMPTOBER DAY 3: “WHO DID THIS TO YOU?”

This is the next chronological piece of Do No Harm, continued directly from this chapter.

Tag list: @whumpervescence @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump

WARNINGS: Medical procedures, referenced/implied noncon, slavery setting, the usual.

The young doctor seems a bit skittish and far less cruel than the other Facility employees, and that comes with the dangerous notion that perhaps he doesn’t plan on hurting him. But that notion requires a naivety of which Jaime is no longer capable. He, of all people, is aware that cruelty can disguise itself in many shapes and sizes. Just because it isn’t obvious doesn’t mean it isn’t there, and that only makes it all the more dangerous.

There’s no use in hoping either way, he decides. Dr. Tate will either hurt him or he won’t, will either touch him or he won’t, and Jaime can’t — won’t — react. He has already made that mistake once today and will certainly pay for it later in ways he doesn’t want to think about now. He would do well to remember that he doesn’t hold any power here. Not in this room, this building, this life. And that, despite any arbitrary written rules, Dr. Tate is free to do as he pleases.

At least he had removed the restraints from his mouth and wrists. Jaime can console himself with this small mercy.

Those had always been the worst part of nights with Mr. Torley, on the all-too-frequent occasions he decided to use them. He was clearly very into them, and even more into Jaime’s fear of them. In addition to the claustrophobia they stoked in him, the use of restraints in bed had always felt something like a mockery. What use was it to restrain someone who can’t fight back regardless? The binds on his wrists and ankles were nothing more than accessories. The shackles in his mind did all the work to keep him still. And Mr. Torley knew that.

He does his best not to think about that now. Not to think about Mr. Torley at all, since that was what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. Distantly, he wonders how long the influence of his first Keeper will continue to stain Jaime’s existence beyond the termination of their six-month contract.

Dr. Tate, who has been buried in the cabinets above the sink for several minutes, turns back to him sporting bright-blue gloves that adhere tightly around his slender hands. He meets Jaime’s eyes for half a second before his gaze darts somewhere just to the left of his shoulder.

“We need to run a couple of tests,” he says in a detached, clinical voice, all notes of lightheartedness from earlier removed. “I’ll need to collect some samples from you.”

Jaime nods once in acknowledgement, squeezing his fingers tightly, unconsciously around the edge of the table. There’s an unnatural pause in his cadence, and Jaime when looks up, he watches a slight twitch of movement in the doctor’s jaw.

“Please remove your pants and underwear,” Dr. Tate says, his voice taking on a lower pitch. “You can leave them on up to your thighs, if you’d like.”

The slight shift in demeanor sets Jaime on edge, but he doesn’t hesitate at the command, even as a familiar panic claws at the inside of his throat. He drops forward from the table, his legs taking his weight. His thumbs hook the waistband of the thin, cotton pants he had been returned in, and he doesn’t allow himself a moment of hesitation before pushing them unceremoniously off his hips. He takes Dr. Tate up on his merciful offer to keep them partially on his body. The cold, sterile air inside the clinic is sharp against his exposed skin.

Jaime’s eyes find the ceiling as he prepares for the touch he knows is coming. He doesn’t look to see whatever tools and instruments Dr. Tate is laying out on the silver tray beside the exam table. He doesn’t have to. “We need to run a couple of tests.” Whatever foolish hypotheticals Jaime once held in regards to WRU — what they did and didn’t know about the treatment of their wards — had long been shattered.

Of course they needed to test him for sexually transmitted diseases. They can’t have a Domestic Companion spreading something to the next paying customer that buys their time and exposing their innocent charade.

There’s a pause in Dr. Tate’s movement, but Jaime doesn’t look away from his spot on the ceiling tile.

“I’m going to touch you, now.” Dr. Tate’s voice is low and measured. “I need to examine you for bumps or sores, any abnormalities.” He clears his throat. “And I’ll take a swab from your urethra. It might be uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt you.” Another pause. “Please, tell me if it does.”

Jaime’s grip on the table tightens, but he otherwise doesn’t react. Distantly, he is grateful for the warning, the bare explanation, mortifying as it is. He knows that the doctors here are not obligated to explain anything to the Companion patients, to seek consent in any form. Their consent was implicitly given in the contracts they signed at intake. He just as easily could have left Jaime gagged and bound to the table and gone about the procedure without so much as a word to him. Jaime is glad he hadn’t.

Instead, Dr. Tate’s touch is light and professional. His gloved hands don’t linger, they don’t poke and prod to get a reaction from him. It seems, even, that he touches him as little as possible. Almost as if he is as eager to get this over with as Jaime is, which doesn’t feel quite possible.

The fluorescent strip of light next to his focal point on the ceiling burns at the edge of his vision, but he doesn’t look away, using the mild discomfort as an anchor to hold himself steady. He concentrates on that instead of the gentle touches, gritting his teeth against any traitorous urges his body might provoke. Mr. Torley had loved that about Jaime — his responsiveness to touch — but not as much as he loved using it against him.

His stomach sours at the memory, fresh humiliation creeping into his cheeks at the idea of something similar happening now. He doesn’t think Dr. Tate would tease him the way his Keeper had, but he still doesn’t relish the idea of becoming physically aroused in front of this young doctor, who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than him and, in another life, Jaime might have found pretty.

The thought is gone almost as soon as it comes, too painful to linger on. The idea of another life. A normal life. A life at all. These are thoughts Jaime is forbidden to have. The phantom sting of an electric shock lights up the column of his throat and Jaime winces.

“Sorry,” Dr. Tate said quickly, misunderstanding the movement and withdrawing his hand. Jaime’s eyes finally fall to his as the doctor takes a step back, inserting the long swab into a glass tube and sealing it with a cap. “The worst part is over.”

Jaime is numb all over, but he nearly laughs. He knows that having stepped foot in this facility again, the “worst part” has not even begun.

“I’ll need to collect another sample from your mouth,” Dr. Tate continues, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves, and Jaime absently wonders why they even bother wasting extra product on the patients here. “And we’ll draw some blood—”

Something catches his voice mid-sentence and Jaime’s eyes flick up to his again. Dr. Tate looks at him, and then pointedly, hurriedly away. Jaime swears he can see his pale cheeks reddening.

“You can— We’re finished with that part.” He stumbles out. “Feel free to cover yourself up.”

Jaime does as he’s told, finding it somewhere within himself to be grateful that the doctor had kept the procedure professional. He couldn’t say the same thing for every encounter he’d had in the facility clinic before.

********

Sebastian knows what happens next, and that’s why he finds himself taking his time with the rest of the visit. As soon as he’s completed the mandated intake exam, he is supposed to mark the patient as cleared in his chart and alert the handlers to come collect him. To take him back into the part of the facility where Sebastian has never set foot; the “residential” wing where the unclaimed Companions are housed between contracts. On all the promotional advertisements, it’s depicted as a dormitory-like accommodation. Now that Sebastian knows just how little truth exists behind their lies, he can only imagine it’s nothing of the sort.

His mind conjures images of iron-barred cells and concrete rooms, of medieval dungeons with chains and darkness and filth. It’s a sensationalized version of what he assumes is probably the truth, but that doesn’t mean the reality is any less horrible. After what he’s seen in his time here and everything he’s heard, he has no doubt that the people who are forced to reside here between Keepers are subject to the company’s own brand of horror. Frankly, he’s in no hurry to turn his patient back over to their hands a moment sooner than he has to.

The boy is silent and entirely pliable throughout the whole exam, allowing himself to be moved when necessary and not so much as flinching when the needles for the blood draw break his skin. Sebastian is glad when the more… invasive parts of the exam are over. The boy had been no less compliant during them, maybe even the opposite, but Sebastian hadn’t missed the subtle changes in his posture, the way the muscles in his hands clenched and released around the edge of the table as he touched him as little as possible.

He had looked up at the ceiling instead of at the wall behind Sebastian, as he had done previously, and Sebastian had silently prayed that the position wasn’t intended as a way to hold back tears. He doesn’t know how he could live with himself if he made this kid cry.

When the blood has been drawn, the test samples submitted for lab processing, and a full physical performed, Sebastian has run out of ways to delay the inevitable. He closes out of the boy’s patient profile on his screen and turns to him, hands folded professionally in front.

“I’ll need to alert the handlers that your intake exam is complete,” he told him, probably unnecessarily. He hadn’t looked to see how long he had been in the system, but from his behavior, he assumes it’s been long enough to break his spirit. He probably knows these protocols better than Sebastian ever wants to. “They’ll come and escort you back to the residential quarters.”

110750 nods once without looking at him. “Thank you,” he says flatly. Then, there is a moment of pause before he lifts his eyes and seems to level Sebastian with something more sincere. “Thank you for… for letting me get cleaned up.”

Sebastian feels like shattering into pieces all over the cold linoleum. Instead, he tries for a smile and lands somewhere in the realm of a tight, thin line at his lips. “Sure,” he says, a bit mortified to hear the crack in his voice.

He watches 110750 take slow, measured breaths as Sebastian makes the call he desperately wishes he didn’t have to make. He tries not to stare as they wait in tense silence for the handlers to arrive. Of course, Sebastian could leave the room if he wants. The intake procedure is done, and so is his minimal obligation to patient care. But something feels wrong about leaving him. More than that, something feels utterly wrong about this boy being taken out of the clinic, away from his line of sight, where he can’t see what will happen next. He only knows it won’t be good.

A split second before he hears the clinic doors whoosh open, Sebastian steps closer to his patient, lowering his voice to a quick, urgent whisper. “Keep an eye on that broken nose,” he advises. “If you have any trouble breathing as it heals, please don’t hesitate to let your assigned handler know that you need medical attention, okay?”

The boy hitches in a breath but doesn’t respond. Sebastian takes half a step closer.

“Look, you have a right to medical assistance,” he says, the words feeling like treason on his tongue despite knowing their written truth. “Even here. Even now. You can always come see me here if you need to. They can’t legally prevent you from requesting care. Do you understand?”

Unexpectedly, something dark flashes in the boy’s eyes. Something less like the fear and dread he had witnessed earlier, and something much more akin to anger. Anger at Sebastian?

Before the interaction can go any further, they are interrupted by the unceremonious swing of the exam room door. The same two men who had brought him in - one with a fresh bandage on his face - push their way in, stepping between Sebastian and his patient.

“Up you go, 7-5-0,” Handler Hernandez barks, and the boy is on his feet before he can finish the command, his hands behind his back, head bowed.

“Oh, look who finally decided to behave,” the other one - Smith, maybe? - taunts as he sizes him up in a way that makes even Sebastian’s skin crawl. Just as he had prior to the visit, the man shifts his gaze to him, a sneer permanently embedded into his expression. “Does he get a lollipop for good behavior? Maybe a sticker?”

The boy doesn’t look up at him, but Sebastian thinks he sees his throat move. He feels a swell of rage rise into his throat, coming to a boiling point for the second time since he entered the room with this boy, but he swallows it back, keeping as level an expression as he can manage.

“He was perfectly agreeable,” he responds tightly, refusing to play into whatever mockery he’s initiating.

Smith answers him with a dismissive snort, turning his attention back to the boy like a predator who just found fresh meat. “What do you say, sweetheart?” He asks, the thick rubber of his boots squeaking against the tile as he takes a step too far into the boy’s personal space. “Think we can go the easy way back, or would you prefer to do things the hard way again?”

The beat of silence in the room is painful as they await his response, which comes eventually in a subdued voice, through slightly gritted teeth and with his eyes on the floor. “The easy way. Sir.”

A snort from Hernandez breaks the tension. “Yeah,” he says. “We’ll see about that.”

With that, he is escorted from the room and seems to take with him all the air in Sebastian's lungs. Naively, desperately, he hopes for the briefest moment of eye contact before he’s taken away from him. But his eyes stay downward, even as a large hand curls around his bicep and makes him stumble in his gait as he’s yanked forward. Sebastian watches helplessly as he disappears from sight, one singular thought slicing through his mind on a loop:

Who did this to you?

#whumptober2021 #slavery #whump #like bbu adjacent?#Do No Harm: Jaime & Sebastian #medical setting #referenced noncon

95 notes · View notes

aetherarf · 3 years

Note

You should write that Scaramouche story, hehe! I'm sorry but imagining him being a sobbing mess is just.. [drools]

Decided to write it and just attach it to this ask because reasons

[[ WARNING: N. SFW CONTENT, BONDAGE, OVERSTIM ]] [[ Summary: Scaramouche loves taking care of you, but sometimes even he needs to relax... even if he's not very good at it, you figure tying him up and filling him up, forcing him to cum until he's too exhausted to be stressed, is the best course of action.

Word Count: 2'387 ]] Scaramouche looked at the long, slick ribbon of silk. He rubbed his fingertips on it, it was gentle enough that it wouldn't hurt his scarred skin, but he still seemed so suspicious of it, almost angry, as though this long strip of fabric had personally offended him. "It's just silk," you said, as he examined it intensely, "It won't kill you."

"How do I know you won't?" He asked, not meaning it in the slightest. He balled up much of the silk, tossing it onto the bed he sat on, "Are you sure this is a great idea?" "Absolutely," you said, full of confidence and conviction. After all, everyone needs a break... No matter how it comes about. Scaramouche sighed, "Right, right. I just..." "Do you not want to?" You asked, knowing you and Scaramouche had talked about it several times already, but with how slow Scaramouche was to accept new things...

"I do," He sighed, "Dread of change is worse than change itself."

"So wise," you teased, "About getting--"

"Say it and I'm changing my mind."

It was an empty promise, but you decided to be kind. "Right. Well, I do have somewhere to be," you teased, grabbing the cloth and swinging it in a small circle.

He knew, you both knew that if he really wasn't okay with this, you'd stay with him and reassure him, but this little song and dance was a part of the whole play.

"Fine, fine, did you get everything?" He asked, grabbing his hat and setting it off to the side before he began to undo the rest of his clothes, setting them off to the side in a, relatively, neat pile. Just as he was finishing, you didn't give him a spare second to breathe, already holding the silk rope, looping it around his neck, and grabbing his arm to pull it behind his back, tugging on the rope like a leash, to get better leverage, watching how perfectly his back arched.

"You're eager," He hissed, voice low and irritated.

"Your friend is eager, too," you teased, only for him to huff,

"Don't tie my wrists too tight."

"I know, I know, you can get out if you fight enough." You tie a knot around one of his wrists, sticking two fingers under it, "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine, it's fine."

You quickly tied another knot, and again, it was loose enough to pull off with some effort, but not too easy. His hands clenched into fists as you went about continuing to tie him up, a few more loops around his arms, a little star design over his chest, and his legs... but the ribbon was long enough for a bit more.

For a good reason.

"Stay still," you whisper, and he huffed,

"I couldn't really move if I wanted to."

In your hands, you toyed with a much smaller ribbon... a cutting from the original, since it was more than long enough, but you had a specific idea in mind for its purpose.

"Before we... you know, do anything, do you want to be gagged? Just a ribbon over your mouth."

"Why? You won't hear me." He huffed,

"Because I feel like you enjoy having your mouth stuffed. So, do you?"

He just muttered, a little flustered as he looked away...

"Scara?"

He refused to even look at the ribbon you wanted to tie over his mouth.

"Scara, I need a clear answer."

"Yes! Archons, take a hint."

"Sometimes the hints you give me are very very vague," you mention, "Say ah..."

He didn't make any noise, but he did open his mouth, the ribbon set between his teeth, and he clenched his jaw on it, as though he couldn't help it.

You tied a knot at the back of his head, "Say something?"

He just muffled against the silk, likely an insult or a witty comment like I can't exactly talk, now can I?

You pressed a gag over his clothed mouth, onto his lips, and he almost chases... but stops, knowing he can't really kiss you back, not with how he couldn't even completely seal his lips anymore.

"Snap your fingers once if no, twice if yes, are you ready?"

He hesitated, then in quick succession, he snapped twice. You shoved him inbetween the shoulder blades, to be pushed onto his chest, and he groaned, hissed at this treatment, but you didn't mind. He prepared himself before hand, but, oh, how pretty he looked, tied up and forced to do whatever you want...

You just had one desire. To push him. You reached back over to the small box of supplies, pulling out a bottle and a device.... a toy.

A vibrator, it didn't have many ridges or curves, but it was large, and just shaped well enough that once inserted... it wouldn't be easy to get out without hands. The bottle only had lubricant, to make it easier and less painful, hopefully not painful at all.

Liberally, you poured it over the top, and you noticed Scaramouche staring... he looked... nearly hungry. You wonder if Scaramouche could fit this device, as large as it was, inside of his mouth... maybe even his other end couldn't take it. A disappointment, but you were about to find out.

You pressed it against his hole, that was shiny and slick, "Relax," you coo, and he exhales through his nose... and relaxes. Just as he does, you finally shift your palm to the end of the toy, pressing on it with some force--it slips barely an inch in before it stops, and he groans.

"Scara," you whisper, "You need to relax... or do you want to stop?"

He snapped his fingers once... which meant no. You assumed it was in response to the latter. Then, he took a deep breath, exhaled... and relaxed again.

You pushed it in, slower this time, a little amazed a man as little as him could take it... at all, really. Eventually, there was a soft pop, and all but the end that was meant to stick out, the end with a switch with a few numbers tacked to the side, was left. You looked down at Scaramouche, tears in his eyes, breathing heavily, and his legs shook, until he couldn't stabilize himself, and he fell onto his side, the landing soft and cushy by the bed.

"Sca-oh."

You saw his tummy, a little bulge. You reached down, rubbing it. If it wasn't for how familiar you were with him, and his arched back, you wouldn't have noticed, oh, but you did... He whined softly as you even touched it, and as you looked further down, you saw his dick leaking little drops of liquid. You grabbed the end of the silk rope, and tied it so it pressed on the toy, just to make sure it stayed in place... like adding insult to injury.

"Here... Let's just get into it," you cooed, and he made a low moan, but it turned into a shout as the device turned on--3, you decided was a low enough number to not overwhelm him, but not so low that he couldn't enjoy himself, too. Out of 10, that could seem pathetic... but you'd rather understimulate him than overstimulate.

For now, at least. You wanted him frustrated, not destroyed.

"Is that okay?" You asked, tilting your head to the side--His eyelashes fluttering as he was struggling to adjust, "Snap twice to tell me you're okay."

There was a second of silence... Then he snapped, once, then twice, nodding as well. You gently brush his bangs out of his face, and he sighs through his nose...

"Well, I'll see you later, Scara." You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "Unless you don't want me to?"

You, really, were just going out for a short amount of time, likely no more than an hour. But, that was the point, to leave him alone, trapped... but in a good way.

He didn't say anything, but he hid his face away from you, unwilling to admit, even silently, that he was enjoying this already.

"See you later, Scara!" You left, leaving the door to the bedroom cracked open... but you'd make sure to leave the front door shut and locked, just so only you could see him in this state. No one else should, after all.

And Scaramouche was...alone. For a few long moments, he laid there, just trying to rationalize his breathing, but eventually, he was able to calm down a decent amount. But as soon as he was calm, he was disappointed. There was pleasure, but it wasn't... enough. If it was just, maybe, a little more, he wouldn't still be able to think.

I don't want you to think, you had said, in response to how he was chronic overthinker, driving himself to paranoia, but this wasn't working.

With how his legs were tied, if he was sitting up he'd be sitting on his knees... he could probably buck his foot enough to either turn it off--so it wasn't infuriatingly enticing, or turn it up, which was what he wanted... Sure, he could undo the silk, just by determination to wiggle out of it, but he didn't want to do this a second time, he couldn't tie himself up...

A few tries, and he failed. He managed to jostle it within him, causing him to cry out, but it wasn't enough.

One last try, and...

He all but screamed a low, desperate moan, as the device was turned to max power, his insides burned like they were being forced to mush, and he came, shooting his load further than he thought his body was possible--But his hips were bucking, unable to move from the ribbon that bound him, thighs desperately clenching and unclenching as he felt tears pour from his eyes, realizing he was sobbing, screaming from the sensation.

With how his body buckled, he could only sob and cry out, unable to gather himself enough with each orgasm wracking him, to undo the rope, to try and flick the device down to a lower power...

and, a sick, twisted part of his mind loved this abuse.

...

You were holding a few things you bought. A few things you've been needing for awhile, a cute little bracelet you thought Scaramouche might like, since it was subtle but still nice, things like that... When you looked at the time, you realized you were gone far longer than intended, but... well, what was an hour compared to three?

Walking in, you shut the door behind you quickly, and then you froze, hearing Scaramouche moan so... so whorishly. You turned and looked to the hallway, did he get bored of it, undo it and begin riding the toy for his own amusement? He sounded like he was muffled, and he didn't seem like he'd ever keep on a gag if he could 'help' it, or at least, pretend he couldn't.

You set down everything on the table, resolving to deal with it later, as you rushed to the bedroom, knocking the door open.

He was still on his side, breathing heavily... Tied completely, but he was moaning so much, so... endlessly. He looked the same before you left, but...

You walked over--he seemed so dazed, he didn't even notice you. The first problem was the mess--he seemed to have came over and over again, and even as you watched, his spent dick, barely even hard at all, spewed out a few clear drops of liquid, unable to muster anything else. You were suddenly very thankful for the towels you had set down. You looked back to the toy, and your face dropped--

It was at max. You, immediately reached over, turning it off. The sound of buzzing stopped, one you only now noticed, and his moans immediately ceased. You half wanted to take it out now, but... oh, the rope, that wouldn't let you. It was fine, you set this up to fall off him as soon as a single knot was removed.

Gently, you reached up to the back of his neck and tugged on the end of the rope that hung out, and it all loosened. Scaramouche wasn't moving, but he was breathing... how exhausted must he be?

You finally removed the ribbons, deciding to show a little extra mercy and to untie his mouth, and he took ragged gasps.

With a steady hand, you grabbed onto the end... and gently, you tugged, and he moaned, prompting you to stop... was it best to leave it in? No, no, it wasn't a wound, it was a vibrator up his ass, of course it was better to get it out.

It was hard to ignore how he moaned, with each little movement, as you tried to be as gentle as possible when removing it... until it finally flopped onto the bed, his hole oozing with the excess lube, gaped from the massive size, clenching and loosening...

Oh, how destroyed he looked. He was beautiful, but you were still worried, gathering him up in your arms, not minding how he was coated in sweat and drool.

"Scara, talk to me," You half-pleaded, wondering if there was something wrong.

"Tuh.. tie...rd..."

"... Tired?"

He grunted weakly, of course he would be... you should probably get him water. But, you were distracted, as he weakly lifted his hand, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to his stomach...

Oh, despite everything, he was hard... his poor little cock, red and oozing, covered in mess.

"Pleah..." He whined desperately. Slowly, you moved your hand, wrapping around him, and he moaned, nodding as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, mouthing at it... likely his attempt at kissing.

It only took a few strokes for him to cum one last time, a pathetic mess of liquid that looked no thicker than water, and just as clear.

"Are you okay?" You asked, not minding the mess... there was potential for something bad happening, but...

"Yeh... yes..." he weakly forced out, "Stay..." He whined, the first fully coherent word he could muster.

Well... You could hold him for a few moments. You'd deal with his sweatiness, and getting him water, soon... just after he's gotten the affection he, clearly, so desperately needs...

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche x reader #// this is so bad #// am sorry #naughty bark #anonymous

217 notes · View notes

clingylilhoneybee · 3 years

Text

You find me in my room, asleep peacefully, wearing just a tee shirt and panties as I always do to bed. My chest slowly rising and falling, blissfully unaware of your entrance. But what really catches your eye are the bed restraints in each corner, a stark contrast to the pastel softness of the blankets, and the array of toys next to me in the half opened bedside table, practically begging for you to use them against me. I’m jolted awake by the feeling of your hand on my ankle, already tying me to the first corner of the bed before I’ve even processed what’s happening. But once I do, I immediately start to fight. Kicking, hitting, whatever I can think to try and stop you, but I’ve never been terribly strong. You all but roll your eyes at my attempts as you catch my other leg and force it into the other restraint. I pause for a moment, realizing how vulnerable you’ve just left me, legs spread wide open, before I return to hitting and pulling at my restraints. You laugh with a terribly sadistic smile as you climb onto me, reaching to tie up an arm. I manage to land one good hit in, my fist connecting with your face, and your entire demeanor switches. You immediately grab my wrist, holding with enough force to bruise. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop this pathetic attempt at fighting back. I was being nice you little slut but I will not hesitate to get a little mean to get what I want”. I wince from the harshness of the words and the pain in my wrist. It finally sinks in that you have the upper hand in every way. You’re stronger and bigger, and now I’m not even in full control of my lower half. I silently comply as a tear runs down my face. “Please don’t hurt me” I whisper. You smile down and lighten your grip on my wrist as you notice my defeat “we’ll see about that. You’re awfully cute when you cry”.

You finish tying me to the bed and get up, grabbing the duct tape from the night stand, placing a piece on my mouth. My eyes widen in fear, knowing I can’t reason with you even if I tried. I’m now completely at your mercy. You take a moment to look over my toy collection, contemplating what you’d do with the person at your disposal. Instead of pulling one out, you turn back to me. Running your hand up my leg, nearing the flimsy piece of material I chose as underwear for the night. I panic, pulling away as best I can in the restraints, trying to avoid your touch. Your hand brushes against my clit and rests there as you look up at me with some kind of faux pity. “My dear, my cock is going in one of your holes tonight, and this one certainly seems as good as any to ruin.” I start to cry and use my bound hand to gesture to my covered mouth. “Oh? You’d rather me use your mouth? Well I’m nothing if not generous so of course I’ll fuck your little throat”. You gently pull off the duct tape and I take a sigh of relief before I feel your fingers shoved in my mouth. I start gagging, eyes tearing up as I fight my bodies instinct to throw up. “Come on now, if you can’t handle a few fingers without making a mess of yourself you certainly won’t be able to handle what I’m about to do” you coax your fingers a bit further as I hear your other hand undoing your pants. You slight your fingers out and I gasp for air. I nearly have my breathing back to normal before you straddle me, forcing your cock to the bad of my throat. I let myself cry freely now as you violently fuck my mouth, using me as nothing more than a toy for your pleasure. This continues for a bit until you seemingly get bored and climb off me. I close my eyes in relief, thinking this is finally over. My peace is short lived as I feel a sharp pain against my right tit. I cry out and look over to see you, crop in one hand, my largest toy in the other, smiling sadistically. “You couldn’t have all these toys out and honestly expected me not to use a single one on such a pretty little captive”. I start to panic, I’m out of options so I beg “please, I’ll give you anything you want just please please leave me alone”. You laugh and respond simply “this is exactly what I want. Now shut up before I use one of these gags…”. You look back to my collection “Wow you really are a little whore. Practically begging for someone to use you like I am with all these things”. I open my mouth to argue, then shut it knowing what would happen if I did.

You walk to the end of the bed, standing between my legs, and hit my cunt lightly with the crop. I wince, trying to look away as I know what’s coming. You pull my panties to the side and put a finger into my hole, almost clinically inspecting it. You pull back and laugh again. “God you really are pathetic. Do you see how fucking wet you are?” You move the finger into my face and even I can’t deny how needy this has all made my cunt. “Well that’ll make this easier” you note as you begin to push the dildo inside me. I start my attempt to pull away again and plead “please no. Not this one. It’s way too big for me. I know I’ve tried and it doesn’t fit”. You pause and look deep into my eyes, trying to figure out if I’m being honest, and I am. You shrug “well we’re going to make it fit today”. The calm in your voice scares me even more. I try to think of any way out as I feel it getting deeper, stretching my hole and reaching its limit. You can feel it too, and you start to pull it out, gently fucking me with the dildo, filling me up as much as you can with each stroke. I nearly let out a moan before I catch myself, continuing to fight against my restraints. You notice my almost moan and decide to test my limit, pushing it just past where you had before. I cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. “Please stop. I told you it doesn’t fit. Please”. You contemplate for a second, and push a bit further, prompting the same response from me. “See you like this. I know it hurts but after today you strike me as someone who likes to be hurt”. You keep easing the dildo further into me, until I’m filled all the way to the base, tears streaming down my face. “See now that wasn’t so hard”. You start fucking me with it again. Sliding the full length in and out of me. You notice me fighting the part of me that enjoys what’s happening. “You’re going to like this whether you want to or not” you say confidently as you pull out my hitatchi. Pressing it against me I can’t hold in my moans any longer and I get fully lost in the pleasure, my moans nearly turning to screams as you fuck me harder with my dildo. Soon enough I can’t hold it in and I cum the hardest I ever have in my life, my whole body shaking against you as wave after wave of pleasure overtakes me. I start to come down from the orgasm and all of a sudden you stop. I look at you confused as you reach up to remove one of my arms from its restraints. You start to leave the room and turn to look at me from the door way. You smirk, looking down at my still shaking body “until next time….”

#told y’all I was in a mood #mine

145 notes · View notes

formulanaughty · 3 years

Note

you should do the toto seb overstim stuff as a continuation of the seb x merc driver because ᵘʰʰ toto said something mysterious and then left ... like bro... join ? perhaps they bicker about aftercare because seb actually has feelings and toto just thinks he knows what’s best (and like tiny feelings but it’s probably the fact that he’s the boss and is in control of everything)

(ok i realized when i re-read my first little teammates blurb that i made it seem like at the end that they aren't? teammates, but let's just pretend that never happened. seb and reader both drive for mercedes under toto as TP!)

sv/reader/tw - not proofread so my apologies for inconsistencies/issues. i don’t care that much. it’s 3.5ish k of smut (and some plot). i think i like it? idk. threesomes are hard.

warnings: threesome, toto is bossy (almost to a fault), i didn’t put enough seb in (i’m Sorry), overstim, orgasm control (?), spitting, crying during sex, sub drop (if you squint - i tried not to make it too heavy), there’s aftercare!! (lmk if i’ve missed anything!)

It had been two weeks since Toto walked in on you and Seb.

Two weeks of brilliant driving, of front row lockouts, of champagne-soaked Sundays.

Two weeks of denial.

You had played every card you had with both men, tempting them to break and give in. You'd met Seb in his driver’s room after a spectacular qualifying session that he had just barely beaten you in, stripped down to your sports bra with your underwear pushed aside as you laid back on his couch, two fingers sliding in and out of your cunt. He had taken one glance at you and laughed, bending down to pick up your sweaty fireproofs and race suit before tossing them in your direction.

“Get out,” he commanded, and you were too stunned to fight him. Your rage grew with each passing moment as he watched you fumble to put on the wet fabric.

“Fuck you,” you spat, the words venemous as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

When you entered your own room, just down the hall from his, you couldn’t get your hand back in your pants quickly enough, the shame of his offhand dismissal burning you from the inside out. The orgasm that ripped through you was vicious and you came with a shout, the sound easily disguiseable as one of rage. It wasn’t enough - not even close - to quell the need that built within you.

Toto had joined your private flight from one track to the next and you ended up in his lap as soon as the “fasten seatbelts” sign shut off.

He had grinned, looking down at you with amusement. “What is this?”

“You’re smarter than that Toto, you know what this is.” To prove your point you rocked your hips, sliding your covered core over his thigh.

He waved the stewardess away wordlessly when she approached with bottled drinks and made no move to touch you. “What this is,” he said, voice already stern, “is you beginning to directly disobey one of my orders.”

“Who says I haven’t already disobeyed your orders?”

He leveled you with one of his signature looks of disapproval, eyebrow raised and frown lines prominent.

You climbed off of him, arousal giving way to anger.

“Fuck your rules! Do you realize how stressful it is? Why do you think Seb and I ended up fucking in the first place? We need something to let off some of the pressure of being a fucking Mercedes driver!”

“You think being with him will last?”

“It’s not about being with him. It’s about relieving some of the stress that you put us under!”

He gestured wide with his arms, laughter almost mean. “You’re welcome to leave, sweetheart, but we both know you won’t. Sebastian was offered the same thing when the pressure first got to him and he stayed - has stayed - every time. You don’t want to lose Seb, the team — me. So you’ll put up with it. You may even find yourself enjoying it. Just another week, and then we’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Oh, so you and him have some fucked up agreement? Is that why he’s been getting preferential treatment on the track? So I’ll be even more wound up when you both corner me in my hotel room? Is that the whole point of your ‘orders’, Toto?”

He sat up straighter, his shoulders rolling back as he moved to make himself larger. Even seated in the plane seat, he still seemed to tower, larger than life. “He does not get preferential treatment - on track or off - for any reason and you know that. That’s the last I’ll hear of it.

Besides,” he continued, a dark chuckle leaving his lips as he settled back into the leather, motioning for the attendant to bring him a drink, “you’ll be wound up no matter what we do to you. It’s in your nature.”

“Fuck you,” you had said softly, settling down in the seat furthest from him with your face towards the window. Any closer and he would have been bound to see the fury of your heartbeat through your skin or hear your labored breath. Fighting with a man in his position, with his power, was the ultimate aphrodisiac. You’d never shied away from going toe-to-toe with him, especially not the few times it had escalated beyond arguing and moved into more. Arguing with him now, knowing there were so few boundaries still existing between you yet knowing he wouldn't back down or give in was beyond frustrating.

"You wish you could," he had said with a chuckle, raising his glass to his lips.

He had been right about you and you hated to admit it. The end of the triple header was in sight and you were wound up, springs loaded more tightly than they'd ever been, and neither Sebastian or Toto had so much as glanced your way unless required to by their jobs. They behaved in front of the media and team, but when it was just you around, it was as though you didn't exist.

You decided to funnel all of your anger towards them into other aspects of the weekend, giving them the same silent treatment they were dishing out. You did your best to ignore them both, going so far as to leave the post-race briefing early before conversations shifted to Sebastian’s car.

Later that evening, you receive a text from Toto.

We need to talk. Room 853.

Even though he was located just a few floors above you, you decide to make him wait, taking your time redressing and combing through your hair.

Thirty minutes later you swing the already-unlocked door open.

Toto stands at the desk, fingers flying over the screen of his phone while Seb lounges in the plush chair on the other side of the bed.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

Toto sets his phone aside and faces you. “I said we needed to talk. Sit down.”

“I’ll stand, thanks.”

Toto grins and shakes his head. “I wasn’t asking. Sit.”

“Woof,” you bark out as you collapse backwards on the bed, already annoyed that they’ve cornered you like this. Seb laughs and for the first time in more than a week, you feel a genuine smile tug at your lips.

“Funny,” Toto deadpans.

“Is this all you dragged me here for? Or is there actually a point to this conversation?”

Toto shakes his head. “Such an attitude. What’s gotten into you recently?”

“What’s gotten into me? How about what’s not gotten into me? You catch Seb and I together and then tell me I’m not allowed to get off for two weeks, lording that fact over my head at any chance you get. Then you two start treating me like I don’t exist at all and—”

"I know she's gotten off," Seb interrupts, his face smug, “at least once. And no," he says, eyes shooting over to Toto, "I didn't have anything to do with it."

"You don't know shit," you quip from the edge of the bed, words tossed over your shoulder towards him.

He stands and moves, stepping away and then back before the mattress dips right behind you. "The entire hospitality trailer heard you. Britta asked if she needed to go make sure you were okay, but I convinced her you were just pissed, like you usually are when I outqualify you. I think I do know 'shit'."

When you open your mouth to protest, he moves from behind you and slides a silk scarf between your lips, tying it off quickly behind your head.

When you look over to Toto in shock, he grins.

"Shake your head no or tap out right now and we'll do it your way - whatever that may be - no feelings hurt. But I think," he says, watching as Seb leans in close to nose at the delicate skin of your neck, "I think that you'll enjoy it our way."

You maintain eye contact with him as you raise your chin in one last act of defiance.

“You’re trembling,” Seb whispers, his voice low and goosebumps erupt across your skin.

“She’s desperate for it.”

“Remember your sign?” Seb presses his lips to your jaw.

You reach back and give Seb’s leg three taps with two fingers.

“Good girl.” He looks at Toto and gives him a nod.

“Here’s the thing, pet. I told you no orgasms. Did you obey that rule?”

You stare him down but shake your head no.

“You should have heard her,” Seb says, his hands smoothing up and down your rib cage, rucking at the fabric of your shirt, creeping closer and closer to the curve of your breast. You barely keep yourself from arching into his touch. “She was in my room after qualifying, fingering herself, and she got mad when I kicked her out. Went back to her room and must’ve made herself cum so hard she screamed.”

“Screamed?” Toto directs his question to you.

You drop your chin in shame, remembering how you had been pushed to your breaking point by Seb’s dismissal. When the silence hangs in the air, you lift your head and nod.

“Good thing we gagged you tonight then, huh?”

Your eyes go wide and you glance at Seb.

“Sorry love. Boss makes the rules.”

“How many do you think we can get from her before she taps, Sebastian?”

“Six,” he responds, grinning.

“I think eight. But, knowing her, she’ll pass out before she taps out.”

Toto steps forward and reaches out a hand, cupping your jaw gently. “Wish I could kiss you.” He traces his thumb over your stretch lower lip and you whine, the sound strained through the makeshift gag. “No, no,” Toto chides, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead, “no whining, no begging. You wanted to cum so badly before, so we're going to let you now, as many times as we see fit. And you can’t ask for more or tell me to stop or use that smart mouth to sass me and piss me off. We’ll go until you learn that your orgasms are ours. Understand?”

You twist your head to give Seb more room as he presses kisses along your exposed skin, pulling your collar aside when he runs out of new real estate. You take a moment to consider what’s happening, what it will mean for you, and you lift your chin again, giving Toto a definitive nod.

———

You had lost count.

The first, wrought from you with Seb's fingers as Toto looked on and gave instruction, was forceful but not enough to slate the heat in your lower abdomen. The ache had persisted - insistent - until Toto shoved your knees wide and lowered his mouth to your core. Both men - Sebastian behind you and Toto kneeling below you - were still completely clothed while you writhed naked between them.

The second and third orgasms were claimed by Toto, his mouth working easy and lazy against your clit, as though this was just a hobby for him, and you let your head fall back onto Seb's shoulder as he dove back in for the fourth.

"You should see yourself," Seb says, voice low in your ear. His hands roam over your torso, fingers firm as they dig into your skin and move to pinch at your nipples. You back arches, offering more of yourself to the men before you, and your eyes drift closed.

"You look incredible," he continues, his hips lifting to press his hard length into the small of your back.

You work to open your eyes and look up to him, pleading as best you can without words, until you feel Toto work a finger into your dripping slit and your eyes flutter shut once again.

"That's it baby, come on. Let it go," Seb says, his eyes fixed on where Toto's mouth has sealed over your clit, tongue barely peeking past his lips with every rhythmic swipe of it over your tight bundle of nerves.

When another orgasm builds, every muscle in your body goes taught until it all snaps and you scream into the gag, arching away from Toto's mouth and Seb's hands and their combined overwhelming presence.

They give you a moment of peace while you work to catch your breath, inhales and exhales forceful through your nose and around the now-soaked scarf.

When Toto kneels on the bed he's finally naked, moving up the sheets until he's in front of you. "Doing so well, pet." He leans in over you, his nose brushing yours. "You still okay? We can take away the scarf if you want."

You lean into him, hands lifting to hold him close as you inhale his scent and feel his skin against yours. You pull back and nod your head, watching as he reaches around you to untie the scarf and toss it aside.

"Better?"

You nod, clearing your throat a few times before Seb, naked now too, appears behind you with a bottle of water. You sit up to take a few quick sips and pass it back, watching as he swallows the rest down easily.

Toto takes your chin in his hand and pulls you close, his lips meeting yours much more gently than you had expected, but the kiss deepens quickly. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you moan, his lips pulling into a grin against yours until he pulls away. "You taste divine," he says, licking at his lips again.

Seb's hands settle on your hips and he tugs, swiftly raising you until you settle onto your knees, stance wide as you lean into Toto.

"Don't cum in her," Toto commands over your shoulder, and a shiver runs through you at his words.

"But--" Toto breaks off your thought with a finger to your lips.

"Just because I took the gag off doesn't mean you can talk back. Understood?"

"Yeah," you answer, watching as he leans back onto the bed, his hand moving down to stroke once, twice over his hard length.

"Try again."

"Yes, I understand." You continue watching his hand, distracted by the prominent veins and dark pink head of his cock. You lick your lips and he chuckles.

"Gets rid of the gag and immediately wants something back in her mouth," he teases, his words directed at Sebastian.

You glance over your shoulder to see him, his eyes fixed on your ass as he runs one of his hands back and forth over the smooth skin there. The other hand holds his cock with what looks like a too-tight grip.

"Sometimes I have to stick a finger or two in her mouth while I'm fucking her. Keeps her quiet at least." He already sounds wrecked as he teases your folds with the head of his cock.

You scoff and Toto reaches a hand up, burying it in the hair at the nape of your neck. He drags your head down to his cock and you open your mouth automatically. He's larger than Seb, wider and a bit longer, but something inside of you begs to impress him, to be able to take him all in one go.

"What did I just say?" he asks, holding you just out of reach.

Seb chooses that moment to suddenly - finally - push his way in, your wet pussy making the slide easy, and you mon.

You whine when his hips hit your skin, the feeling of being filled almost too much already.

You don't have time to process the intrusion before Toto is pushing his cock past your lips. Seb pulls out slowly and then presses back in. Before you know it, you're being filled as quickly as one hole is empty, from one end or the other, and you lose yourself in the rhythm of it as they use you.

When Seb reaches around your hip to settle the pads of two fingers over your clit, you buck into his hand, Toto's cock falling from your lips as you swear, already too sensitive. He bats your reaching hand away and thrusts harder, fueled by the hitching of your breath and the way you tighten around him, squeezing like a snake.

Toto pulls at your hair, straining your neck to meet his gaze. "Cum on his cock, pet."

“It’s too much,” you choke out, barely a whimper, as Seb begins to grind into you with each thrust. It’s overwhelming, being fucked by Seb while Toto commands your attention.

“Don't stop,” Toto directs at Seb. Then he looks back down at you.

“She’s so fucking tight,” you hear Seb say, still looking up, watching the way Toto grins at his words.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

You follow his command and he grabs your jaw with one hand, holding your mouth just where he wants it. He stares for a moment before opening his own mouth and spitting slowly, his hot saliva hitting the center of your tongue. He holds you there, your mouth open, for just a moment before pressing your jaw up.

“Swallow.”

“Fuck, shes cumming again, I can feel it. She’s just— Fuck!”

Seb pulls out suddenly and even through the tremors of your own orgasm, you can feel the hot splashes of his release across your back. He groans and stumbles back, collapsing into the nearby chair.

“Toto,” you whine, desperately needing both more and for this to end. You can feel the beads of sweat slide down your back, the tendrils of hair at your temples damp and sticking to your skin.

“Come here.” He grips your arm and drags you up, rolling over you as he moves you where he wants you: on your back underneath him. He pushes your knees up almost too-high and looks down your sex. “Look so pretty, all fucked out like this. Pink and puffy.”

You flush at his casually obscene observance, at the act of him looking at you - at all of you.

“Should I get my mouth on you again? Make you cum with my tongue? Maybe two, three more, make you beg me to stop.”

“Toto,” you beg, unsure of what you’re asking for. More would wreck you - ruin you - but yet the ache for him, for anything, still sits hotly within you.

“I could do it. I could sit with my face there for hours, pet.”

“Please fuck me,” you try instead, head swimming with his words, with how tempting it is to take him up on his offer.

“Now she uses her manners.” He moves up and aligns his cock with your slit, teasing your entrance just as Seb had before. He thrusts in fast then, lowering himself to swallow your cry direct from the source. He holds still, his breathing easy as your chest heaves, hips already working in search of friction.

“Please,” you beg, near tears, as the mere feeling of him filling him up sets you off, the wave of another orgasm building quickly. “Toto, please, fuck me, please.”

He pulls back and nearly out, glancing down as the head of his cock catches on the rim of your pussy. When he pulls all the way, you cry out, your desperation met with a chuckle. “I told you pet, your orgasms are mine. You cum when I say you can cum. Sebastian makes you come when I say he can. Are we clear?”

You nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes with desperation.

“Good girl. And just so you don’t forget it,” he says, thrusting back in, hard, “we’re going until I’ve had enough.”

You arch into him, your body taking over as it seeks out any tendrils of pleasure he’s willing to give.

He takes his hands in yours and raises them above your head, his body stretching long over yours as you cry out with his deeper thrusts.

You suddenly still, your legs trembling around him as your tears fall, the sudden orgasm absolutely stealing your breath. He groans and slows, grinding his hips into yours, the pressure of him inside you prolonging your release as he relishes the feel of you constricting around him.

“That’s it, there you go. So good for me.”

“I can’t— Toto, I—”

“You can, I know you can. Such a good girl, you can take it. Give me one more, come on, you’re so pretty when you cum for me like this.”

His patient, deep thrusts are more than enough to set you off again, and you sob as you feel it creep in, absolutely nothing to be done to stop it. Your voice is hoarse when you shout as it finally crashes over you, your vision going white and hearing going fuzzy.

Toto’s thrusts turn erratic then and he too pulls out with a groan. You watch with barely-open eyes as he grips his cock and strokes himself just once before painting your stomach with his own release.

“Fuck,” he pants, staring down at your body.

Tears continue to gather at the corners of your eyes and when you blink, they tumble down your temple to mix with the stale sweat there.

You sniffle and hear some shuffling before Seb appears, kneeling on the comforter next to you.

His voice is quiet when he speaks. “Come on love, let’s get you cleaned up. Did so good for us, let me take care of you now.” He turns to Toto. “Go get a warm, damp cloth from the bathroom. She’ll want to be held and I doubt you want to get jizz everywhere.”

“How do you know what to do?”

“Because she and I have talked about it! As much as it kills you to give up some control here, just follow my lead. She might ask for something from you, she might not. But just shut up and let me take care of her.”

Toto stares for a moment, watching the way Seb moves in - to press a kiss to your temple, to muzzle at your cheekbone - and how it almost brings a smile to your face, before he follows Sebastian’s request.

He returns and passes the rag to Seb, listening to the soothing way he praises you as he wipes your skin clean, folding the rag over itself to wipe at the sweat drying on your collarbones and neck.

When Seb turns to toss the rag away, you grab for Toto then, tugging him down almost beside you, half of his body still heavy on top of yours. He adjusts and wraps himself around your back, his frame completely engulfing yours, watching as Seb mirrors the pose in front of you, still speaking in such hushed tones that leave Toto straining to hear what’s being said. When your voice breaks through, his name somewhere on your lips, he leans in.

“Of course he’s proud of you,” Seb replies to whatever question you had asked. “I am too.”

Toto leans in to press a kiss to your shoulder and your head turns, now-bright eyes meeting his. “Thank you,” he mumbles, pressing another open-mouthed kiss to your skin. He continues his gentle assault, lips brushing any inch of skin he can reach. “I mean it. Thank you.”

#tw #sv #fn.fic #fn.answer

52 notes · View notes

thegreatshippingwar · 3 years

Text

Sounds like a plan for your doom

Pairing: Tamaki x (pregnant) reader, Reader (pregnant) X Mirio

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, abuse (not you), mentions non-con/dub-con, Mentions male genitals, manipulation

Summary: After talking with Tamaki (Yandere) about his friend's behavior, you decide to teach Mirio(Yandere) how to treat his Darling right in order to gain affection. But things don't go to plan.

You hated your ack of freedom as much as any other captive, but unlike most captives they didn't have a pushover yandere scared to make them upset. You were lucky it was Tamaki that took interest in you and not someone like Mirio. You didn't think he knew how to control himself most of the time. His 'darling' was Mei and for whatever reason her survival instincts where horrible. She resisted him with every little thing he tried to force on her. Her refusal of Mirio had annoyed him enough that he would punish her constantly. Bruises and cuts litter her body and never seemed to disappear from what you could tell.

You wished to talk her into submitting, but then again you realized Mirio was the problem. A simple 'no' from her would result in punishment. If you wanted to help the poor thing you would have to talk to Mirio about it. But Mirio refused anyone interacting with her until she started to behave. Months had passed and still Mirio was making no progress and would often complain to Tamaki saying things like 'She should just love him, like (Y/N) does Tamaki.'

Mirio was getting so annoyed that he was even starting to scare you, you thought he might end up killing her soon if you did nothing. You had tried taking to Tamaki about it but every time you mentioned it one of two things would happen. He would either promise to talk to Mirio and fail to convince him due to his lack of spine. Or he would accuse you of falling in love with Mei and have to calm him down or risk him running to Mirio's to get 'rid of everyone's problems'. It was safe to say Tamaki started to hate Mei, not just because of your concern. But also because of her hurting Mirio.

Once your pregnant belly started to show, you were getting away with a lot more. You could convince Tamaki to allow you to take walks, as it was good for the baby. You would also tell Tamaki you had cravings for foods you knew weren't in the house to get some space to yourself. It was great, but you still couldn't help but pity Mei. So, after talking with Tamaki a lot you convinced him to be able to spend more time with Mirio. You had told him your whole plan to make Mei 'fall' for Mirio and you just wanted to 'enlighten' her to show her Mirio deserves her. You said Mirio was just using the wrong method to get her love and attention.

Tamaki was easy to convince but now you had to convince Mirio, who honestly scared you. You knew he wouldn't do anything to you because you were pregnant and also Tamaki but that didn't mean he was any less intimidating. That brings you to your current situation.

Tamaki was sitting beside you on Mirio's couch while Mirio was sitting in his chair with Mei on the floor. Mei was gagged and bound clearly hating everyone in the room. When her eyes glared at you Tamaki had to hold back a growl as he moved his left hand to land on your small belly. You leaned into Tamaki's touch and kissed him on the check while shushing him. As you did so you felt the need to look at Mirio. He looked jealous; you fear grew. But once you had finished, he kiss you could see the envy still in his eyes. You realized after a couple of seconds he was looking at your stomach. Maybe he wanted..... He couldn't possibly want children, could he?

"Calm down everyone, Please." You seemed to snap him out of his funk and his eyes returned to normal. "I know this is sudden but I wanted to talk with you Mirio."

Mirio smiled at you as you spoke, "What about?"

You felt Tamaki moving his left hand away and back into his lap. "I wanted to say....." You felt nervous, "I think.... I mean this in the nicest way possible Mirio, but I think you're going about this the wrong way." You were clearly gesturing towards Mei, And Mirio's body seemed to stiffen. "I think your method is wrong..... that's not to say it wouldn't work normally......it's just Mei." You felt Tamaki stiffen, He hated when you said her name. You moved your right hand to hold Tamaki's in some form of comfort. "Mei is special..... she needs a softer approach."

Mirio's eyes didn't leave your form, he was tense all over. You almost thought he would snap at you and had you been Mei he probably would have. Mei's eyes were on you as she tried to mumble something. You saw her eyes for a second before you felt Tamaki move. He moved his arms around your body and moved you into his lap. "S-s-stop looking at her." His mumble was heard by not only you but Mirio who chuckled. His chuckled stopped when you kissed Tamaki.

Mirio kicked Mei lightly towards your direction. "Why can't you act like (Y/n), you could have everything if you did. Instead, you act like a rabbit dog." Mirio sighed before looking at you. "She certainly needs a special approach, but I don't think....." Mirio stares at you then to Tamaki before looking at Mei. He looked like a sad puppy, he reminded you of Tamaki when he first kidnapped you. Dam you, why did you have to be a dog person. Mirio decided to look at you again and your small belly.

"My approach might make her love you." You didn't mean it at all, but if you could get her from getting hurt then you would try. You thought Mirio would be happy, but he wasn't. In fact, he looked bored, like he didn't think your words had meaning.

Mirio smiled at you again, "Ok, if you teach me your way, I'll try but....." He looks Mei right in the eyes before staring at you again. "If it doesn't work, I plan to kill Mei."

A cool shiver crawled up your spine, Mei looked terrified like she didn't think he would ever say that. Maybe it might be easier to submit to Mirio now that she knew what was at stake. Once you got home Tamaki became an attention whore, but you were glad as it kept your mind distracted.

________________________________________________________________________________

The next few months you thought Mirio how to be considerate to Mei. Like letting her change by herself or taking bath by herself or letting her eat without him feeding her. And it was working sort of she would do the bear minimum to keep him 'happy'. Most of the time you would 'show' her the limits or the bear minimum effort needed to keep him happy. Like cooking him something to eat or doing the washing without him asking. But it wasn't enough for Mirio.

"I want a kiss" Mirio said while you and Mei were preparing dinner for all of you. Mei's shiver could be felt from next to you. "I won't do anything I promise." You could tell he was not going to take no for an answer. "Just one...." You barely heard him mumble that last part.

So you grabbed her arm like every other time you had to show her something and walked towards Mirio. Tamaki was pissed every time you touched her so you knew after this you would have to calm him down. She was still resisting but you knew escape was never an option unless you somehow got the two 'gentlemen' to fight each other.

Then a crazy idea popped into your head, something so crazy it might work. As you reached Mirio you let go of Mei's arm. You hadn't thought of escape in a long time. But maybe because your hormones were out of wack you thought this was the perfect chance to escape with Mei. You look over to Tamaki, you hoped this worked.

You got a close as you could to Mirio, before putting a hand on his chest and kissing him on the check. It was short but sweet, you step back and look at Tamaki. You expect rage and angry, hoping this might be enough to get Tamaki to fight Mirio. But once you look at his face there was no rage, but a blush instead. You look him up and down seeing a clear bulge appearing in his pants. SHIT.

Mirio was staring at you, you had taking his breath away with a small sweet kiss. His heart was beating so fast he didn't think it was possible. That kiss had felt better then when he had drunken sex with Mei the first night, before taking her home. He knew you were perfect just watching you intact with Tamaki. He was jealous of your relationship with his best friend, he wanted what Tamaki had .... love. So he took Mei thinking it would work out like you two. When you had gotten pregnant his was even more jealous. Now he knew why, you where the perfect Darling. He didn't want his own Darling he wanted you. He looked to Tamaki for a second before looking at you. Maybe they could share? The thought had his lower self-harden. You weren't looking at him, but he couldn't blame you. He had to think of a way to convince you and Tamaki to allow him into the relationship.

You start moving back from Mirio, your plan didn't work. "Like that Mei?" Your words broke the thoughts of the males in the room. Mirio felt his stomach sink, was Mei going to kiss him. He hoped not, especially if she did so in the same location, he turned to her. Tamaki looked about to interrupt Mirio, but you grabbed his hand.

"Stop, remember this is what he wants." Tamaki's face fell at your hushed words. You hugged him as you watched Mei and Mirio stare at each other.

"I-i--i-i-i-i can't" Mei's words where the worst things you could hear right now. You tried to speak but Tamaki stopped you.

Mirio knew this was the best chance to get rid of her, "can't" His words sound like a wounded animal. Mei backs up, "can't? What's one little kiss to you? You kissed nearly everyone at the bar that night. But now......" Mirio started crying he had to make you feel sorry for him. He had to make you pity him, that's how you fell for Tamaki right?

Mei bolted for the front door, but Mirio didn't stop her. Mirio fell to the floor crying. You wanted to run after her but once you saw Tamaki do it instead. Mirio looked so hurt and sad, so you approach him slowly. You place your hands on his shoulders and bring him in for a hug. It was weird having him in your arms, head in your chest. He was like a poor sad puppy, so you started shushing him like you did Tamaki. You played with his hair, you told him it wasn't his fault, you told him he deserves better. You believed what you said. That thought scared you. You were to busy trying to comfort him to realize he had stopped crying long ago.

Mirio loved your warmth, your coos to calm him, your hands playing with his hair. Everything was great.

__________________________________________________________________________________

When Tamaki came back with Mei she was a bloody pulp, you imaged Tamaki had finally had enough of her. Tamaki locked her in her old cage before coming to your side. Mirio seemed to have fallen asleep on your stomach with you playing with his hair. When Tamaki saw this he blushed, his two favorite people where cuddling. He felt himself harden at the image. He almost came when he saw you kiss Mirio on the cheek. He didn't understand but maybe he wanted to share you with Mirio. 'She' had just always been in the way, another reason to hate her Tamaki decided.

"A-a-are yo-ou... I-s-s-s he Alright?" You hummed to Tamaki. Tamaki sat down behind to you, feeling the need for attention. His member still hard, he made it known to you by rubbing it against your back. A small moan left Tamaki.

"Not now." You whispered in his ear.

"Yes now," Tamaki let out a small growl as he started to dry hump your back.

"But Mirio...." You tried to reason, but Tamaki wasn't listening as he reached his arms around the front and started squeezing your breasts. Mirio was in fact not asleep, and once he realized what was happened, he decided to nuzzle his nose into your sex. He resisted the urge to smell you, he had to wait till you got wet so he might be able to join in. "Stop," Your voice was like an angel, "Mirio is sleeping if he wakes up."

Tamaki knew Mirio was awake at this point, and he took Mirio moving closer to you as a sign he was interested in you. Tamaki felt pre-cum leak from him after realizing. "Mirio," Tamaki moaned, "Want-t-t." Before he could finish you felt Mirio take a deep breath smelling you.

"Want." Mirio's voice was husky as he raised his head from your crutch. "Want to share her, I want her to be ours." Tamaki moaned into your neck. He sat up and immediately rubs his clothed dick on your thigh. You feel the pre-cum leaking onto your clothes from both Tamaki and Mirio.

"God, yes-s-s."

You squeaked as both men grabbed you pulling you into the air. They lead you into the bedroom. At some point they had removed your clothes, you now realized you had made a horrible mistaking in kissing Mirio. Instead of one easy to control obsessive idiot you now had another not easy to control idiot. You felt them everywhere kissing and grabbing and finally when it was done Mirio had pulled you close.

"I can't wait for you to become pregnant again, this time with my child. How does that sound Tamaki?"

Tamaki sighed, "I w-w-want that too, M-maybe two each?"

"Sounds like a plan." Sounds like a plan for your doom.

#Yandere bnha #Yandere Mirio #Yandere Tamaki

153 notes · View notes

omgjasminesimone · 3 years

Text

The Moments in Between

Dakota x MC

Word Count: ~3,800

A/N: Accompanies my fic Life Goes On, set in the missing ten years.

High School Graduation

Dakota tears his eyes away from the view outside his hospital window when he hears the distinctive sound of Sage’s favorite high heels approaching his door.

He smiles when he gets his first glimpse of her in her graduation regalia. “Wow Teach, you look great. Congratulations, graduate.” This is also his first time seeing her new hair extensions. Now that his hair is starting to grow back, Sage is back to her usual hairstyle.

Sage smiles, bounding her way over to his bed and tucking herself under his arm. “Congratulations to you too, Dakota. I have your diploma.” She reaches for her bag that she’s dropped on the floor, pulling out his framed diploma and handing it over reverently.

“Can’t believe I’m a high school graduate now.” Dakota reveals, reading the diploma closely. He assumes had he been well enough to attend the graduation ceremony, it would have felt more real.

“There are very few people who could complete all their senior year assignments and exams while fighting cancer. I’m so proud of you Dakota.” Sage praises, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m proud of you. It’s incredible how you managed school and my cancer.” Dakota insists.

Sage shrugs, nuzzling into his neck. “It was no biggie. I had a very cozy seat on the sideline.” She quips.

Dakota frowns, tearing his eyes away from his diploma to look at his girlfriend. “You know I didn’t mean that. I would never have gotten through this without you, Sage.”

Sage smiles, placing a sweet peck to his lips. “I know. I just like to bring that up every so often so you’ll tell me how much you love me.”

Dakota chuckles, shaking his head fondly. “I love you a lot, Sage.”

“I love you too Dakota.” She gives him another kiss, gently taking his diploma from him to place on the side table. “I missed you today. I’m sorry you had to miss your graduation.” Sage laments.

“I was hoping to be out of here by today, but it’s okay. The transplant almost failing really put things in perspective. I’m just grateful to be alive. Universe willing, hopefully I’ll get to attend college graduation.”

“You will. I know it. You’re a fighter Dakota.”

“You give me something to fight for, Teach.”

...

Discharged

Dakota can’t miss the arrival of his friends and girlfriend as they loudly come down the Edenbrook hallway, arguing the whole way.

“I can’t believe you like Alec. God, he’s the absolute worst. I can’t wait for him to get voted off Survivor.” Lennox insists.

“I love Alec! And I don’t think he’s a suck up, he’s just friendly.” Mateo insists.

“No, the friendly thing is totally an act Mateo. But I do respect Alec’s game. The point is to outwit and outplay.” Sage counters as the group enters Dakota’s room.

Sage’s whole face lights up when she spots Dakota, in his normal clothes instead of a hospital gown. She practically flies across the room, launching herself into his arms. “Happy discharge day!” She exclaims.

Dakota laughs, hugging her back tightly and giving her a quick kiss. Even though he purposely kept it chaste, Lennox pretends to gag anyway. “Thanks for coming guys. But Teach, don’t you have midterms?”

“Like we’d miss this! Dakota Winchester, finally getting out of Edenbrook. It’s like my baby bird finally leaving the nest.” Mateo teases.

Sage nods in agreement with Mateo. “Nothing could have kept me from being here today. And my professors were all very understanding. They’re letting me take make up exams this weekend.”

“You guys are the best.” Dakota insists, turning back to the bag he was packing before his friends arrived.

“Where are your parents?” Lennox asks, taking a seat on Dakota’s bed.

“Dropping off gift baskets for all the doctors who kept me alive. They really went all out on the one for your mom, Sage. Almost like it’s a...dowry or something.” Dakota reveals.

“Your parents must know that I’d happily marry their Kody, no dowry needed.” Sage quips.

“Aww.” Mateo says at the same time Lennox gripes “Ugh.”

“Good to know.” Dakota returns, winking at Sage. He zips up his bag, and looks around the room. “I think that’s everything.”

Sage slips her hand into his. “Ready to get out of here?”

Dakota squeezes her hand. “Very ready.”

A group of hospital staff are waiting just outside his room to wish him farewell.

“Do I get to ring the discharge bell?” Dakota asks his oncologist after saying his goodbyes.

“That’s usually just a thing for the kids, Dakota.” The doctor informs him.

“What?! But I was really looking forward to it! Plus, you know I’m a child at heart.” Dakota counters.

“....fine.” The oncologist gives in easily.

Dakota grins widely, squeezing Sage’s hand in excitement.

“I think I’ve got a new nickname for you, man child.” Lennox suggests.

“Nothing you say can ruin this for me, Len.” Dakota retorts as he happily makes his way over to the bell. He hands Sage his phone. “Can you record this for me, beautiful?”

Sage nods, stepping back to get him in frame. “Say, cancer free!” Sage chimes.

“Cancer free!” Dakota parrots, vigorously ringing the discharge bell.

...

College Visits

“And this is the quad! My favorite spot on campus.” Sage informs him, leading him by the hand through the Massachusetts State campus.

Dakota is recording on his phone, like always, so Sage does a little twirl for him under a cherry blossom tree. “Beautiful.” Dakota says, and Sage can’t be sure if he means the campus, or herself.

He’s trying to hide that he’s a little out of breath, but Sage can read him like a book. “I’ve made you walk too much. Here, let’s take a seat. How are you feeling?” Sage asks as she leads Dakota over to a bench.

She looks guilty, so he gives her his most reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Teach. I’ve been feeling good, and all my lab results have been good lately. My doctors think I should be able to start college in the Fall, as planned.” He’s cautiously optimistic that he won’t relapse. He’s still a little tired, and weak, but not like before he got the news his Cancer was back. Once he’s done with his 3-4 times a week outpatient visits to Edenbrook, it will be like he’s a normal young adult again.

Sage nods, swinging her legs over his lap as she rests her head on his shoulder. “That’s so good to hear, I know how excited you are for film school. Although I’m really going to miss you when you’re further than a car ride away. But, on the bright side, I can come out to visit you in LA when the Boston weather gets completely miserable.”

“Actually Sage, I’ve been thinking about it. And moving all the way across the country from my support system and my doctors might not be the best plan right now.”

Sage frowns, looking up at him. “But your dream school is in LA.”

“You’re my dream Sage. And there are plenty of great film schools in New York. And New York is just a 4 hour bus ride away.”

“And you’re sure that’s what you want?” Sage asks, trying not to give away just how much she would love to have him closer for the next 4 years.

“Cross my heart.” Dakota lets out a little ‘hmph’ when Sage hugs him so tightly he can barely breathe. She immediately loosens her excited hold.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I love you Sage.”

“I love you too.” She seals her words with a passionate kiss, that leaves him more out of breath than all that walking earlier.

But it’s worth it.

...

New York City

Sage enters their small studio apartment, located in one of the seedier parts of Brooklyn since that’s all they can afford on her salary, with a loud sigh. “I hate my boss.” She complains to Dakota.

He turns away from whatever he’s editing to look at her. “Another bad day?”

Sage nods miserably, and Dakota pats his lap. Sage crosses the small room in just a few steps, parking herself sideways on her boyfriend’s lap. She makes herself cozy, loosely wrapping her arms around his waist. She glances at the computer screen as he drops a kiss to the top of her head. “Is this your final project you refuse to show me?”

Still images of Edenbrook flood the editing software. “Yeah. I filmed a lot when I was sick. When Mateo was sick. To keep myself busy. Some of the clips were really compelling. So now, my final project is a documentary about Edenbrook.”

“You’re branching out from ghost movies?” Dakota’s previous school projects have all been horror films.

“In a way, it’s still a ghost movie. Gracie is heavily featured, and other friends I lost.” Dakota reveals.

“Will you play me a Gracie clip?” Sage asks tentatively, not sure she can even handle it.

Dakota drags his mouse back until Gracie’s face fills the screen, pressing play.

Dakota ends up letting her watch the entire 40 minute film. Tears are welling in Sage’s eyes by the end. “That was absolutely beautiful Dakota. Sad, but definitely compelling.”

“Thanks. It felt good to make it. Cathartic.” Dakota reveals.

Sage’s eyes skim through the open ‘Edenbrook’ folder on his computer, stopping on a sub folder labeled ‘goodbyes’. “What are those?” Sage wonders aloud.

Dakota looks where’s she pointing, flushing a little. “Oh, those. After the transplant, when I wasn’t feeling the greatest, I recorded goodbye videos for the people I care about most. To send out, you know, if I was gone.”

Sage turns to face him. “Can I watch mine?”

“Sure, if you want to.” Dakota pulls it up, and then attempts to slide Sage off his lap so he can get up. But she shakes her head.

“I’m only going to be able to watch this right here in your arms.” She insists.

Dakota leans back into the office chair, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “Okay.” He presses play.

Sage starts crying almost immediately. Dakota plants soft kisses across her shoulder as she watches, to remind her that he’s here. That he’s fine, and cancer free for almost 4 years now.

Tears are streaming down her face by the end, and she turns around in his lap to press her face into his chest. “Hey, hey, don’t cry Teach.” Dakota pleads, gripping her chin gently and using his thumb to brush tears away from her lash line.

“I can’t believe I almost lost you. I can’t imagine doing life without you Dakota. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Sage. More than you could ever know.” This wasn’t how he was planning to do this, but as he stares into her beautiful, watery eyes, he feels like now is the perfect time. “Want to watch something happy now?”

Sage laughs, wiping at her eyes as she nods. This time, she allows him to slide her off his lap, and he goes to his backpack to pull out a flash drive that he plugs into the computer. When the folder opens, he clicks the video named ‘For Sage’ and presses play.

Sage smiles as the first image comes up, the clip Dakota filmed of her at their high school when they first met. The video continues with clips from the carnival, from hospital dates, from post hospital dates, in Boston, in LA, in New York. There are many clips of her she was unaware he was even filming, doing mundane things no one else would even think to film. It’s all weaved together so beautifully, it tells a story. Their story.

The soundtrack and clips stop suddenly, and cuts to Dakota on the Brooklyn bridge. “Lennox, you’re filming vertically!” On screen Dakota complains, prompting a chuckle from Sage as she watches.

“Don’t forget I’m doing you a favor, man child.” Lennox retorts, but then she repositions the camera horizontally like Dakota wanted.

“Thank you.” On screen Dakota adds. He clears his throat, looking sincerely into the camera. “Sage Woods, I’ve been hopelessly in love with you from the day we met. You’ve stood by me through lows and highs, mostly lows though because you’re an angel, and everyday I’m reminded how lucky I am to be able to call you my girlfriend. But, I’d be even luckier to be able to call you my wife.”

“That’s so cheesy.” Lennox complains from behind the camera.

“Len, come on. I’m gonna have to edit all this out!” Dakota complains on screen before dropping to one knee.

That’s where the video ends, and when Sage quickly turns her wide eyes to Dakota beside her, he’s on one knee with a diamond ring. “I hadn’t gotten around to editing the Brooklyn Bridge footage yet, but-“

“Yes!” Sage exclaims, dropping to her knees beside him and capturing his lips in a fierce kiss.

“I didn’t.... get to ....finish asking.” Dakota murmurs between greedy kisses.

“The answer is still yes.” Sage beams at him when he places the diamond ring on her finger.

God damn, he’s so lucky.

...

College Graduation

As Dakota sits at graduation waiting for his name to be called, he’s starting to realize missing high school graduation might have been a blessing in disguise. He’s never been so bored.

But when they finally get to the W’s, and the film school Dean calls out ‘Dakota Winchester!’, his parents, Mateo, Lennox, and his stunning fiancé let out the loudest cheers of the entire afternoon, which makes the ceremony endlessly more entertaining.

...

Wedding

“Kody, if you keep drumming your fingers like that, you’re going to put a dent in my table.” His mother playfully complains.

Dakota stops the incessant drumming. “Sorry, I’m just...missing her more than I thought I would.” He admits.

His dad smiles, shaking his head fondly. “It was your bright idea to spend the night before the wedding apart.” He reminds him.

“It’s bad luck for me to see Sage before the wedding!” Dakota insists, to make himself feel less foolish about sleeping alone in his childhood bed tonight.

“Why don’t you call her?” His mother suggests.

“We said we wouldn’t. Hearing her voice would just make me want to drive over to her mom’s house and see her more.” Dakota reveals.

“Well Kody, it’s just 17 more hours until the wedding. After that full month of no contact in the ICU, I think you guys can do it.” His dad adds.

That reminder of the worst month of his life does make Dakota think he can get through just 17 more hours. He nods resolutely as he stares down at the table, internally giving himself a pep talk to avoid reaching for his phone.

When he finally looks up again, both of his parents have the goofiest grins on. “What?” Dakota asks warily.

His parents share a look before turning back to him. “We’re just...so happy for you Kody. When the doctors told us you wouldn’t make it past 9, we could only think about all the things you wouldn’t get to do. We thought you’d never go to high school, never graduate from college, never have a job, never get married.....” his mom trails off, tears falling down her face.

“Mom, don’t cry.” Dakota pleads, leaning across the table so he can take her hands in his.

“They’re happy tears, Kody. It’s just been such a privilege to get to watch you grow into such a fine young man.” She concludes, standing from the table so she can hug him. His dad gets in on the action too, engulfing both in a warm group hug.

“The three of us are so proud of you Kody.” His dad adds, ruffling his hair affectionately.

“....thanks guys.” Dakota eventually settles on, unable to truly express how grateful he is.

The hours crawl by until it’s finally his wedding day. He’s more nervous than he expected he’d be as he stands at the altar.

“Psst...man child. You’ve got to calm down before you sweat stain your pits.” Lennox whispers from just behind him.

“And this is why Dakota made me the best man instead of you, Len.” Mateo taunts. He places a reassuring hand on Dakota’s shoulder. “No need to be nervous, Dakota. I’m pretty sure Sage wouldn’t leave you at the altar.”

As if in reaction to Mateo’s words, the wedding march starts.

Sage turns the corner, being walked down the aisle by her mother, and Dakota stops breathing for several moments.

She’s so beautiful, and he can’t believe his luck that in a few short moments, he can call her his wife. She smiles at him through her veil, and he smiles back through watery eyes.

...

Video Message

Dakota fiddles with the self timer on his phone, making sure to get Sage, and the London Bridge behind her, focused and in frame. Once he’s satisfied, he leaves the phone where it’s propped up against a building and makes his way over to Sage, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She grins up at him. “Ready?”

“Very ready.” He assures, giving her a little squeeze.

Sage turns back to the camera. “Hi guys! We really wanted to do this in person, but since there’s 4 months left on my London project, we thought video message was the next best thing.”

She turns to her husband. “You can say it.” She informs him with a warm grin.

“Sage is pregnant.” Dakota says into the camera, his smile so big it kind of hurts his cheeks a little.

“We’re pregnant!” Sage chimes, pressing a quick kiss to the side of Dakota’s upturned lips. “It’s still really early so we probably shouldn’t even be saying anything yet-“

“6 weeks.” Dakota interjects.

“But I just really couldn’t keep this news from the people we love most. We don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet, maybe we can do a zoom gender reveal or something, but either way the baby’s name is going to be Dakota.” Sage explains.

Dakota smiles, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.” He whispers, low enough so the camera can’t pick it up.

“I love you too.” Sage returns, eyes shining with merriment.

Dakota looks back into the camera. “Alright, so that’s our big news. Can’t wait to see everyone when we’re back in the States. We love you guys.” After Dakota concludes, he makes his way over to the camera, turning it off.

“Are you sending it?” Sage asks, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Just editing out some of the dead space at the beginning and the end first. And maybe adding some underlying music.”

Sage shakes her head, albeit fondly. “Do you ever stop working?” She teases.

“Doesn’t feel like work when you love it.” Dakota insists. “And now....done! Sending it off now.”

Dakota wraps his arms around Sage as she leans back into his embrace. They both gaze out at the London landscape.

It can’t be more than three minutes before Sage’s phone rings. She grins at Dakota. “It’s your parents. Oh, and my mom too on the other line. Let me see if I can do a 3 way call....”

While Sage is fiddling with that, Dakota’s phone starts ringing. He glances at the contact info. “And that’s Len and Mateo.” He informs Sage before answering. “Hey guys.”

He smiles as he’s bombarded with congratulations. He looks towards his wife, who’s gesturing excitedly as she talks to their parents. He reaches for her hand, pulling her into his arms.

He can’t believe how lucky he is.

...

Heart to Heart

“Why are you filming this?” Sage complains, trying to cover her makeup less face. She feels like death, and assumes she must look it too.

“In case I ever need footage of a beautiful woman growing another human being.” Dakota quips, continuing to zoom in on her belly.

“This footage would be more appropriate for a horror movie about a woman having her skin stretched grotesquely.” Sage counters.

Dakota frowns, lifting her shirt to expose her belly and the many new stretch marks marring her skin. “There’s nothing grotesque about any of this, Teach. You’re beautiful, and miraculous.” He insists, planting kisses all over her skin.

“And you’re sweet, but also a liar.” Sage replies, running her fingers through his hair as he starts to murmur sweet nothings to their son.

“I’m gonna miss this belly when baby Dakota shows up in the next few days.” Dakota insists.

“Well, that makes one of us.” Sage retorts.

“You say that now, but once you hold him? See his adorable little face? You’re gonna want another one immediately.” Dakota theorizes.

“Doubt it. I think Dakota here is gonna be an only child. I never want to be pregnant again.” Sage insists.

“He has to have siblings.” Dakota counters.

“Why? We’re both only children. We turned out okay.” Sage defends.

“What if he needs a kidney? Or a bone marrow transplant?” Dakota asks softly, gently rubbing Sage’s belly.

Sage rises up on her elbows so she can look down at her husband. “Babe, are you worried about the baby getting sick?”

“Isn’t that something all parents worry about?”

“Not to the point of planning future spare part babies.” Sage argues.

“That’s not fair.” Dakota counters.

“And it’s not fair what you had to go through as a child, Dakota. And it’s obviously something that’s gonna stay with you. But leukemia isn’t hereditary, babe. You don’t need to worry about passing on defective genes to our baby.” Sage attempts to comfort.

“You don’t know that.” Dakota laments. “I could have more defective genes than just leukemia.”

Sage struggles to force herself into a seated position, and noticing her struggle, Dakota helps her get herself upright.

She slips her hand into his, weaving their fingers together. “Dakota, there’s nothing wrong with this baby-“

“You can’t know-“ Dakota starts to interject, but Sage raises a hand to silence him.

“And if there is something wrong with this baby, that’s something we’ll get through, together.” She squeezes his fingers comfortingly. “Okay?”

“Okay.” He reluctantly agrees after a beat. But then he quickly adds. “But I still want more than one child.”

“We can talk about that after I get this baby out of me.” Sage tries to cut off that subject.

“Hmm...that sounds like a polite no. But I’m not done with this subject. The world needs more Sage Woods-Winchester in it. At least 3 mini yous.” Dakota insists, his smile growing when Sage can’t help but chuckle.

“That’s easy for you to say, from your comfy seat on the sideline.” Sage teases.

Dakota raises a hand to his heart, mock wounded. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Probably not.”

“....Guess I should have died of Cancer when I had the chance.”

“.....That’s not funny Dakota.”

“...It’s a little funny.” Dakota insists, and then he leans forward to kiss Sage’s downturned lips until she’s smiling again.

...

A/N: Still wasn’t over With Every Heartbeat, so I had to write this out too. Now I feel better. :)

tags: @shewillreadyou @dakotasteach

#with every heartbeat #dakota x mc #dakota winchester #choices fanfiction #weh

165 notes · View notes

emilia3546 · 3 years

Text

Letting Go - Nessian NSFW

Cassian has always been the one person Nesta could let her guard down around, let go of control with, even in the bedroom.

*****

Nesta had always been devastating, but there was something about the way that she let go of the control she had desperately fought to maintain her whole life that was intoxicating. Cassian could never be grateful enough that she had learned to trust, and had chosen him to trust, to relinquish control to, even if only for a bit. He would do anything to prove himself worthy of her trust. The sight of her in his, their, bed almost broke his self-control, she was prefect, hands bound to the headboard, blindfolded, legs spread, waiting for him. He let his wings fall, the talons scraping against the floor, and she wriggled a little, biting her lip to keep from calling for him, and he grinned. She turned her head from side to side, trying to figure out where he was from his footsteps, so he fell silent, only alerting her to his presence by an occasional noise, leaving her reeling, and having to fight harder and harder to keep silent.

"Cass," she whined, and he grinned, he'd won, and she immediately bit her lip, as if realizing that at the same time,

"Uh oh, guess someone can't follow directions," he crooned, slipping a finger into the leather collar around her throat and tugging gently on it, just enough to encourage her to arch off the bed, her bound hands stopping the movement, and she slumped back into the mattress when he let go, trailing a finger down her neck, and between her breasts, but stopped just shy of the growing wetness between her legs. Nesta whimpered, and tried to bite it back, but failed, "Oh dear, we are misbehaving tonight," he chuckled, and she scrunched her nose up,

"I'll show you misbehaving," she snapped, and tugged against the ropes binding her hands, her legs falling closed as she tried to sit up away from him, unable to properly glare at him with the blindfold,

"Sweetheart, last chance to behave,"

"No. Make me," she whispered, leaving the taunt hanging,

"I told you to be quiet, now be quiet." he dropped his voice lower, making her squirm, but still she refused,

"But taunting you is so much more fun," that was it.

"Since you can't be quiet yourself, I will make you."

"Wait, what?" She gasped, and squirmed again when he pulled her back down the bed, leaving her arms stretched over her head as she wriggled and pretended to try to kick him off, "Cass!" she complained,

"Wrong. Just can't behave tonight can we, sweetheart? Such as shame, but this is just as fun for me, you know, perhaps not for you, though."

"We'll see about that." She hissed, and whimpered when he took the opportunity to catch her jaw, holding her mouth wide open, and she tried to dislodge him, shaking her head to throw his off, but he held firm, one knee nudging her legs slightly apart, until he could push them apart properly, holding them there with his own knees,

"You won't be saying that later, when you're begging me to let you come." He whispered as he slipped a gag into her mouth, holding it still as she gagged on it for a moment, unprepared for the sudden intrusion into her mouth, but she relaxed, and whimpered quietly around it as he secured the straps around her head to hold it in place so that she couldn't spit it out. She whined, and wriggled again, but he had her pinned. He paused for a moment, giving her a chance to back out, to stop there, but she just clenched her jaw, she wanted to play. He kissed along her jaw, working his way down her neck, and across her breasts, stopping her wiggling by pushing his knees higher, and pinning her wide open beneath him.

At the first flick of his tongue over her skin she stilled, and moaned, all resistance fading away beneath his touch on her breasts, her waist, her hips, but never lower. He waited until she was trying to speak through the gag, trying to beg, but all that she could manage was a muffled whimper.

"What was that? Tell me what you want." She tried again, tears of frustration wetting the blindfold as he rubbed circles on her stomach, "No? I guess we'll just have to do something I want then," he moved down the bed, switching to push her legs as wide as they would go with his hands, and lowered himself to the bed between her legs, finally allowing her legs to drop closed, only to fall onto his shoulders as he lay between them. She let out another desperate sound above his head, and he chuckled, "Don't come." She whined, and he repeated it, "If you come, I'll have to punish you, do you want that?" She shook her head, now shaking with desperation, and cried out at the feel of his breath on her sex, but he didn't touch her, waiting until she was trying to plead with him again before lowering his head to her. She wriggled, trying to grind against his face, but he pinned her hips still with one hand as he worked her, feeling her start to try to pull away to escape the inevitable, She pulled on the ropes around her wrists, but he yanked her back down the bed as far as the ropes would allow, "Don't fucking run from me," he practically snarled, keeping his voice low, not missing the rush of wetness that his tone elicited from her.

She squealed once around the gag, and tried once more to pull away, before dropping limp and finally letting go of resisting completely, that release of control finding her, and he sucked her clit into his mouth, rubbing her stomach as she clenched her thighs around his head, squealing as much as she could as she climaxed. At some point she had managed to rub the blindfold away from her eyes, and it now lay next to her shoulder on the mattress, letting him see the fear in her eyes as she remembered what he had told her. He slowly crawled back up her body, and unclipped the straps of the gag, and tossed it aside, almost immediately she closed her mouth, pushing herself into the mattress,

"You came."

"Please. I'm sorry, I - please," she gasped,

"Well since you've started, you might as well continue," he chuckled before ducking his head once again to her sex. With the gag gone he could hear every whimper and squeal, every shout of pleasure, and every 'please' that she gasped out. "Come." he ordered, and she did, screaming his name, and again, and again, and again, until tears were streaming down her face,

"Please, I can't, please, please," She sobbed,

"Please what?" He narrowed his eyes, and she froze,

"Please, Sir! I can't," he hummed, and rubbed the inside of her thighs gently, subtly giving her a moment to recover before that little nod that she was okay,

"You can, and you will." Her head dropped back onto the pillow as he pushed two fingers inside her, slowly pumping in and out, before curling to hit that spot inside her, sending her flying over the edge once more. He held her gaze as he licked his fingers clean, before climbing back over her, and lowering himself onto his forearms above her. Nesta moaned as Cassian kissed her, immediately opening for him, and he waited, kissing her almost lazily, trailing kisses along her jaw, her neck, sucking marks into her skin as she wriggled beneath him. He was almost painfully hard now, but he waited, waited until Nesta spoke,

"Can you fuck me now? Please," she added, lifting her head to drag her lips along his jaw, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, inviting him in. He shifted above her, lining up before slowly nudging into her, still kissing her as he rolled his hips against her, pushing in inch by inch until he was fully seated inside her. "I want to hold you," she whispered, and he quickly released the knots, groaning as she brushed against his wings as she gripped his shoulders. He pulled almost all the way out before slowly pushing back in, giving Nesta a chance to stop him, to say that she'd had enough, but she gripped his shoulders tighter, her nails digging in, and he kissed her shoulder once before slamming his hips against hers. Their combined moans filled the room, and she tilted her hips up, driving him deeper and harder into her.

"Fuck, Nes," he whispered as she actively stroked his wings,

"I want to feel you come inside me," she whispered in his ear, and he groaned her name once more before pleasure overtook him and he spilled into her,

"Fuck," he groaned again, still pumping his hips, and reached one hand between them to rub Nesta's clit, making her tighten around him and scream out his name as she came again. He almost collapsed onto his forearms above her, but Nesta held on to his wrists, her face still flushed from her climax, and she rolled her hips again, and Cassian groaned as he felt himself harden again. She grinned at him, and gasped when he leaned forward, tugging on the collar again, hard enough to lift her partially off the bed, just enough that she was forced to rely on him to hold her up as he thrust into her. She dropped her head back, giving him access to nip and suck at the skin of her neck, and Nesta moaned at every touch of his mouth on her, yelping when he dropped her back onto the mattress, giving her a chance to choose what she wanted. She gripped his wrist and moved his hand to her throat, eyes wide, but no fear, just desire, and love for him. "Are you sure?" He muttered, kissing the side of her face,

"Yes" she smiled, and bit her lip, "C'mon, Sir, not getting shy now are you?" Cassian chuckled and gently squeezed the sides of her neck, careful not to touch her windpipe, just enough that she could feel it, slowly increasing the pressure until she squeaked, that was the limit. He loosened his grip slightly before pulling almost all the way out and slamming back all the way, muttering her name with each thrust, Nesta's whimpers and moans getting louder with each thrust, and she held his wrist as he moved, she would easily be able tell him to let go. Cassian let go just before he and Nesta came together, her screams of pleasure the sweetest music to his ears, and she grabbed his face the moment she recovered, holding his gaze as she panted for breath, and smiled, "That, wow," she mumbled, "You're doing that again." They'd discussed it, but she had never asked him, and he wasn't going to push her on anything, and he had been so worried that she wouldn't like it, but she pulled his face to hers, and kissed him deeply, pouting when he pulled up, and kissed her jaw, twirling a lock of her hair around a finger,

"Alright, sweetheart?" She nodded, and he nipped gently at her ear, making her giggle, and she tried to pull him onto her chest, "I'll squash you,"

"No, you won't," she snorted, shoving his wrist away to make him half-fall onto her, and he chuckled, flicking her nose, and flipped over onto his back, so Nesta was lying on his chest, a silent request in his eyes, and he knew she saw it, but was waiting to respond. She grinned, and rolled her hips against him, slowly sliding back onto his cock, and he groaned at the perfectness of the fit, she was made for him, and him for her. She rested her hands on his chest, leaving her breasts in a prefect place for him to reach as she rocked back and forth slowly, then faster. He dropped his hands onto her hips to guide her deeper, and faster, "Cass," she whined, "Can I-" She gasped as he thrust upwards, and gripped her chin with one hand, holding her head towards him,

"Come for me, Nesta," she dug her nails into his chest, riding him faster, and screamed out his name once more before collapsing onto his chest, his cock still inside her. She panted for breath, and Cassian stroked her hair gently, "You okay?" She nodded, and moved her hips again, burying her face in his neck as he thrust up a couple more times before following her climax. He was still stroking her hair as he nudged her off him, "Good girl," he muttered, and she sighed, snuggling into him, and squeezing his shoulders, beyond words of her own at this point, but she kissed his jaw again, sighing contentedly as he wrapped his arms around her. He could never get enough of this, the sex yes, but more than that, he could never get enough time with her, just to be near her, to hold her, to know that she was safe, that she was finally happy. He kissed the top of her head, muttering that he loved her, and she rubbed her cheek against his jaw, his love for her mirrored in her eyes when she met his gaze. Her heart was slowing now, beating almost in time with his own, and Nesta closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep in his arms.

Cassian slowly stood up, holding Nesta against his chest, and slipped her into a nightgown, giving the House a moment to change the sheets, and muttered a quick thank you, careful not to wake his sleeping mate as he lay back down with her beside him, her chest slowly moving up and down. She looked so peaceful, so calm as she slept, and he pulled her against his chest, one arm around her waist, and the other slipping underneath her to hold her tight to him. He pulled a wing around her, and she mumbled in her sleep, smiling as he rubbed the edge of that wing against her cheek before laying his head on the pillow beside her, and drifted off to sleep himself, Nesta safe in his arms.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #nessian #nesta #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #nesta archeron x cassian x azriel #cassian #smut #smut and fluff #fanfiction #fanfic

83 notes · View notes

words-with-wren · 3 years

Text

Charred Feathers - Dream SMP fic

Was craving whump, was craving Nether survival, was craving wing fic. So I combined it all and the boys had a bad time.

Alternate ending to the disc saga finale but Tommy has wings.

There’s an attempt at writing a panic attack with no experience and also discussion of past suicidal thoughts.

_____

Tommy was aware of everything in fine detail.

The rough stone under his feet, uneven and harsh. The stinging cuts and bruises that scattered across his arms and face. The soft hum of the Nether portal. His breathing, short and sharp. His heart, beating a painful pace. The sharp scent of blood in the air. The light, reflecting off Dream’s emotionless mask, off the axe he held in his hand, off the tears shimmering on Tubbo’s cheeks as Dream stood over him.

Tubbo was on his knees, one of Dream’s hands in his hair. Dream held the axe of peace in his other hand, holding its blade uncomfortably close to Tubbo’s neck.

Tommy couldn’t take his eyes off his friend. Tubbo, despite the tear tracks down his face, was smiling, a soft, contented, sad smile that made Tommy’s heart ache even more.

“Dream-” he began, his voice hoarse and choked. Dream didn’t answer, simply lifted the axe and though he clearly tried to hide it, Tommy could see the way Tubbo tensed. He took an involuntary half step forward, wings flaring in alarm behind him. “Please.”

Dream paused, his mask tipping slightly to one side. For a moment, Tommy felt a rush of hope - maybe there was still a way out of this, maybe they could both survive.

Dream lowered the axe, and Tommy let out a small sigh of relief, feathers shivering slightly.

“I’ll tell you what, let’s strike a deal.” He pointed the axe at Tommy, hand still on Tubbo’s hair, not even looking at the shorter boy. “I’ll let Tubbo live, he might be useful later, but you still have to lose something.” He paused, tipping his face again and Tommy could sense the smirk behind the mask. “How about those wings? You won’t be needing them where you’re going.”

Tommy stiffened, curling his wings protectively around himself. He had only just regained the confidence to fly, only just begun caring for them again after his exile. He didn’t want to lose that.

But Tubbo was on his knees, eyes wide, still bleeding from his many wounds.

“Fine,” Tommy snarled. “I’ll let you clip my wings again.” His voice shook slightly as he spoke, and he hoped it wasn’t noticeable.

Dream chuckled, adjusting his grip on Tubbo to haul the boy up by the shoulder. Still giving all his attention to Tommy, Dream withdrew a length of rope and quickly bound Tubbo’s hands.

“You really think I’ll let you off that easily? Oh no, it’s so much more fun when you’re grounded.” He shoved Tubbo to the ground behind him, the boy catching himself with his bound hands and glaring up at Dream as the masked man stepped past him. “Oh no,” Dream said, his voice low, his grip on the axe tight and confident. Tommy took an uncertain step backwards, wings flared and puffed up in his fear. “I’ll be taking them. I’ll hang them on my wall as a trophy, a memory of all the fun we’ve had together!”

“Tommy don’t!” Tubbo said. He pushed himself to his knees, bound hands resting on his legs. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay. We’ve said goodbye.” His voice was even, accepting, quiet and Tommy felt low rage building in his chest.

Dream wanted his wings. Dream wanted to ground him, permanently this time. Dream wanted to take away the familiar weight from his back, the warmth of his feathers, the comfort that came with cocooning himself in his wings.

“Are you insane?” he spat, barely thinking. “I’m not going to let you f-”

“If you say so,” Dream interrupted smoothly. He turned, stepping back to where Tubbo knelt and wrenched the boy’s head up again to expose his neck. Tommy froze, heart skipping a beat, blood pounding in his ears. Tubbo bit down on a choked noise of surprise and fear, eyes flashing with panic before settling back into the resigned, expressionless look Tommy was growing uncomfortably familiar with.

He froze a moment longer as Dream drew back his hand, axe lined up directly with Tubbo’s throat. The thought of being grounded terrified Tommy - reminded him too much of exile, of being trapped in a canyon with a maddening brother.

But Tubbo was before him, and the axe of Peace was beginning to move.

“Alright!” he cried. “Alright, fine. Just... let Tubbo go.” He dropped to his knees, wings drooping behind him.

“Oh, I won’t be doing that,” Dream said, a smile to his voice. “I’m beginning to realize he’s far too useful to just let wander free.”

“Don’t,” Tubbo breathed, and Tommy looked up to meet his eyes. They were shimmering with tears, and Tommy forced himself to smile.

“It’s okay, Tubbo,” he muttered. Then Dream dragged Tubbo a few meters away, binding his feet and quickly gagging him. Tommy took a shaky breath and lowered his gaze, not wanting to see Tubbo’s reaction to what was about to happen.

A hand pressed into the small of his back and Tommy stiffened, heart rate leaping. Before he had a chance to brace himself, Dream shoved him forward, face slamming painfully into the hard stone floor.

A knee dug into his back, a hand on his hair and Tommy’s heartbeat quickened further, his breath coming in short burst. It was hard to breathe, Dream’s weight on his back stifling, bringing back far too many bad memories.

Focus! He had to focus. Maybe he had a chance - but it was only going to be one, and he needed to be alert, needed to not give into his bad memories.

But his chest was tight and Dream’s hand shifted from his hair to his wing and despite himself, he let out a muffled whimper of fear.

Sand under his face, a hand on his back, the rhythmic snipping of shears, feathers falling around him and he was alone, alone, alone but for one friend.

“Don’t worry,” Dream’s voice soothed, and Tommy hated that it helped, that he already felt himself leaning back into old habits, old thought patterns.

“He’s not my friend he’s not my friend he’s not my friend he nearly killed Tubbo.”

The cold chill of metal pressed against the base of his right wing, right where it connected to his back. Tommy fought down an involuntary shudder, closing his eyes and focusing on breathing.

One chance. He had one chance.

He shut his eyes and breathed. In and out, in and out, in and out. He could hear Tubbo’s muffled sounds, could hear the portal humming, could sense Dream shifting on top of him.

One chance.

He breathed in.

Dream lifted his arm.

He breathed out.

Dream moved.

And Tommy rolled.

He spun, pushing himself upwards and to the side and slamming his wing into Dream’s face to throw him off. Searing pain shot through Tommy’s whole body and he cried out and staggered back a pace. The axe of peace, freshly bloodied, skidded across the floor, landing a few paces away from Tubbo.

Tommy didn’t hesitate. Dream was dazed on the ground and Tommy ran, ignoring the way his wing hung painfully behind him. He snatched up the axe of peace in one hand, skidding to Tubbo’s side and quickly cutting his legs free, hauling him to his feet. Then, one hand gripping the axe, the other gripping Tubbo’s bound hands, he sprinted towards the portal.

They burst through, the heat slamming into them like a wall. Tommy didn’t stop, even though the heat bore down on him, stole his breath, not paying any attention to where he was going - he was just running, half dragging Tubbo behind him.

Dream was going to come after them - he knew it. Honestly, he was half surprised they had made it this far. But he wasn’t going to go down without a fight - he was never going to go down without a fight.

He ran blindly, focusing on the netherack under his feet and Tubbo’s hands clutching onto his. His chest was heaving, his wing was sending a sharp burst of pain through his whole body that blurred his vision every time he moved.

Abruptly, he felt Tubbo stop, tugging his hand. He paused, wiping a shaking hand across his face to remove non-existent sweat and looked back at his friend. Tubbo was nodding towards a small gap in the wall of the red cliff beside them. Tommy didn’t hesitate as he ducked into the small space behind his friend.

It was a fraction cooler in the cave and they scrambled back as far as they could go, pressing themselves against the wall, just breathing as well as they could in the thick heat of the Nether air.

Tommy was shaking, his breath coming in short bursts. It was hard to breathe and his chest felt tight, his head was spinning and he couldn’t breathe.

Tubbo’s bound hands rested gently on his shoulder and he stiffened, pulling away and taking a sharp breath. He dropped the axe of peace, burying his face in his hands and gasping, chest tight, shaking.

“Breathe. Breathe. Tubbo needs you, you need to BREATHE.”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe, he could still feel Dream’s hand on his back, hand in his hair, soothing voice, armour in a hole, explosions and he couldn’t breathe.

“Tommy? Can you hear me?”

He nodded jerkily, not looking up, curling into himself. (It was too hot it was too hot he couldn’t breathe and the lava grinned up at him and Dream’s voice echoed through his mind (useless useless useless he was useless) and Wilbur was laughing and laughing and laughing and-)

“Breathe with me.” Tubbo’s voice was even and he focused on it, tried to pull himself out of the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. “In for eight. Hold. And out again.”

They sat for what felt like an age, Tubbo softly walking him through the breathing until the pressure on his chest seemed to ease and Tommy felt like he could breathe again. Shakily, he looked up to see Tubbo crouched in front of him, one hand hovering nervously near Tommy’s shoulder.

“I’m here,” Tubbo said and that was the best thing he could have said, a confirmation that he was here, that they were both here, now, and that for this brief, stolen moment they were safe. Tommy let out another shaky breath and nodded, feeling too exhausted to say anything. “I need to look at your wing,” Tubbo continued, his voice still even, still calming.

Despite himself, Tommy stiffened. He really didn’t want anyone to be anywhere near his wings right now, even Tubbo. Tubbo must have seen the reaction because he sat back, the concern clear in his eyes.

“Dream managed to nick it,” he explained. “I’m not sure how bad it is, but… there’s a lot of blood - I might need to bandage it, or tie your wing to your back so it doesn’t drag and get worse.”

Tommy hesitated, the bubbling panic threatening to resurface. But this was Tubbo, and if he trusted anyone it was Tubbo, even after everything that had happened. And his wing hurt and he’d been wounded enough times to know if it wasn’t dealt with soon he might lose his flight after all.

So he nodded slowly and shifted, revealing his wings to Tubbo and trying to stretch them out. The moment he moved his right wing blinding pain shot through him and he gasped, swaying forward and catching himself on the warm rock, vision flickering.

“He cut deep,” Tubbo said quietly. “I’m going to have to bandage it, okay? Can I touch you?” Tommy nodded stiffly, shivering slightly when Tubbo laid a gentle hand on his back, carefully wrapping his wing, pulling it tight. “I had to use my gag,” he said apologetically. “We don’t have anything else.”

Again, Tommy nodded, wrapping his left wing around himself in an attempt at comfort and running his fingers nervously through the feathers. Tubbo carefully let go of his other wing and it dropped, pain shooting through Tommy. He hissed, balling his fists and fighting back tears.

“Okay… I’ll have to tie it to you, alright? Then the rope will keep it up and hopefully, it won’t hurt quite as much.” He let out a low breath and once again asked Tommy if he could touch him. Again, Tommy nodded, and Tubbo carefully used what little rope they had to fashion a rough sling for the wing, tying it tightly to Tommy’s body.

When he was finished, Tommy turned to face him, getting a proper look at his friend for the first time since they had escaped.

His hands were shaking and bloody. His clothes were torn, and a large gash covered his side, a black eye and a trail of blood running down his face. He looked a mess, and Tommy was reminded just how close to death he had come.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Tubbo started, glancing down at his hands and shrugged.

“I’ll live,” he said dismissively. “I’m just worried about your wing - I-I don’t know much about tending to wings,” he admitted quietly.

During the wars, it was usually Wilbur who had carefully wrapped Tommy’s wings whenever they were wounded. Wilbur, who would sit behind him, laughing as Tommy ranted about whatever had gone wrong, and how it wasn’t his fault he’d got hurt. Wilbur, whose gentle hands had healed his wings so he could fly again.

“It’s okay,” Tommy said quietly. He hadn’t missed how Tubbo had dodged his question. “We just need to get home.”

A flicker of concern crossed Tubbo’s face, exhaustion following a moment later before it was all covered behind a blank expression of hard determination.

“Do you know where we are?” he asked, and Tommy shook his head. He didn’t want to think about how far they probably were from the main hub. Maybe if he’d kept his bearings when they had entered the Nether, he could figure out the vague direction it would be in. But he had no idea which way they had run.

It suddenly dawned on him just how much trouble they were in. Trapped in the nether with nothing but a netherite axe between them, wounded, hurt, and being hunted.

“We don’t have any gold,” he muttered, because out of all the problems they currently faced, that was the one his brain decided to fixate on. Maybe if they had gold they could take shelter in a bastion, or near piglins. But with no gold, the Nether was a much more terrifying place.

“We need to move soon,” Tubbo said quietly, and Tommy read the unspoken words. Dream would be after them soon. They needed to keep moving.

Tommy nodded and taking a deep breath, he struggled to his feet, swaying and putting out a hand to support himself. The wall was uncomfortably hot and he gave a low hiss, pulling his hand back and swaying again.

Tubbo appeared beside him, a silent offer, a silent request as he swayed himself. Tommy leaned into him, letting Tubbo use him as support as much as he got support from his friend.

Tommy carefully spread out his good wing to cover Tubbo as much as he could as they slipped out of their cave into the stifling heat of the Nether.

There was nothing recognisable nearby and Tommy fought down a rush of panic.

“Aren’t people who’re lost supposed to stay still?” he muttered. Tubbo glanced up at him.

“They’re not usually being chased,” he said. “And that’s assuming anyone is actually looking for us. Except…” He trailed off, his face pale.

Tommy paused a moment longer, trying to gauge their direction. Finally, he made up his mind - it was a guess, and a slim one at that, but he was sure enough it was the right way he was willing to try.

“Come on,” he said and began to move slowly forward. Tubbo didn’t resist, moving along beside him.

“How do you know?” he asked quietly.

“Trust me, they call me the ‘ooman GP-” Tommy trailed off with a small sigh, something twisting in his chest. What he wouldn't give for Techno to be here right now. And not the Techno who had destroyed L’manberg, not the Techno who had sided with Dream.

The Techno he had looked up to. Had seen as a hero, as a legend, as someone to be like. The Techno who had carefully helped him put his shattered and damaged pieces back together after his exile. The Techno who had put up with all his annoying tendencies - and Tommy knew he had a lot.

That Techno was gone, Tommy told himself. He had refused to compromise, had refused to see things from any other perspective.

Had refused to see how much he had hurt Tommy.

Tommy scowled, shaking the thoughts back and focusing on the task at hand.

Tubbo was uncomfortably warm beside him in the heat of the Nether, but he refused to let go. He wasn’t sure if either of them would really be able to stand without support anyway.

It was hot. A dry, dry, horrible heat that felt like it was sucking all the moisture from the air. Tommy was gasping before they had gone too far, lips cracked and hurting, Tubbo shaking slightly beside them. He knew they wouldn’t last long - not in their condition, and not without supplies or food.

The axe of peace was heavy in his hand, but Tommy refused to let go. It was their only protection, the only thing he still had.

He had lost Ghostbur’s weapons. He wasn’t going to lose Techno’s as well.

A soulsand desert stretched out before them and Tommy felt his heart sink. He glanced behind him, terrified at the possibility of seeing a green and glowing purple figure following them.

“We need to cross it,” he said quietly and prime he hoped he was going the right way. If he was leading them deeper into the Nether he was leading them to their deaths.

Tubbo nodded, breathing heavily. It was too hot and dry to even sweat properly - the moisture evaporated almost instantly. It was an unnatural, uncomfortable and deadly heat.

The soulsand clung to their feet, gripping at them, dragging them back and slowing their progress to a crawl. It wrapped around Tommy’s foot, gripping onto his shoe and he stumbled, tugging his foot free but leaving the shoe behind. When he placed his foot down the uneven sand seared his foot and he gasped, skipping a pace.

Tubbo glanced up at him in concern, but Tommy shook his head. They couldn’t afford to stop moving. He just had to grit his teeth and bear the pain.

He had no idea how long they had been slogging through the sand, pain accompanying every step, when Tubbo cried out, stumbling forward and dropping to his knees. An arrow had appeared in his shoulder, blood drying instantly on his shirt.

“Tubbo,” Tommy said, his voice hoarse. He was so thirsty - the Nether drained you, sucked the life out of you and stole all your liquid. “We need to move.” He hated that they had to, hated that they didn't even have the time to tend to the wound. But they had no choice.

Another arrow skipped across the sand behind him and Tommy turned to see a skeleton, drawing back its bow again. Tommy limped in front of Tubbo, stretching his wing wide, snarling at it.

It fired, missing its shot and Tommy changed forward, gripping the axe of peace in both hands. It took two slices and the skeleton was a pile of bones on the ground.

Tommy carefully picked up its bow and the two arrows it left behind and limped back to where Tubbo had struggled to his feet again, one hand gripping his shoulder. He silently handed the bow and arrows to Tubbo.

Again, they began moving, silent but for their heavy breathing and grunts of pain. Tommy’s vision was blurring, but he had no water to shed tears.

Were they going to be trapped here forever?

He almost wanted Dream to come. At least that might be a quick death.

He almost didn’t notice when the soulsand ended. They were a few feet into the netherack when he finally did, looking up to see the lava sea stretching out beside them, miles below. Tubbo shifted beside him, eyes blurred with pain.

“Do you recognise anything?” he croaked. Tommy shook his head, continuing to march forward.

Surely they were nearly at the portal? They’d travelled about a day in the Overworld. He had no idea how long they’d been walking, but it would take considerably less time to get home again.

If they were going the right way.

A haunting cry split the air and Tommy froze, Tubbo stiffening beside him. They looked out over the lava, and Tommy could vaguely make out the elegant white shape of a ghast.

“Cover,” he rasped. Tubbo nodded, moving as quickly as he could for the edge of the cliffside. Tommy followed, gripping his hand, glancing back to see if the ghast had spotted them.

It screamed, and Tommy winced, pressing his hands to his ears. The sound was so loud it made him feel nauseous.

Heat washed past them and somehow they managed to move faster, the explosion rocking their world and sending somehow even warmer air washing over them.

Tommy glanced back, just in time to see another fireball shooting in their direction. There wasn’t time to do anything, so he grabbed Tubbo, pulling him to one side and flinging out his good wing.

Fire burst over it and he cried out, falling to the ground, Tubbo motionless underneath him. Pain, pain, pain, his feathers were burning, the foul smell filling the air. He gasped, clawing at the hot ground, eyes unable to summon the tears he wanted.

Tubbo shifted underneath him, rolling out from under his wing. Tommy could vaguely make out the sound of an arrow being fired, then another, then the shrieking cry of a ghast in pain.

“I’m out,” Tubbo cried. He laid his hands on Tommy’s shoulder and Tommy gave a choking, dry sob. Everything hurt.

The ghast shrieked again and Tommy knew he had to move. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand, shaking. Tubbo helped as best he could, but Tommy could see from his expression every movement hurt.

The ghast shrieked one more time, but this wasn’t a shot. Tommy glanced back at it in time to see it die, vanishing into smoke. He stepped back unsteadily, Tubbo beside him, stretching out his aching, aching wing in an effort to protect his friend.

A figure bounded the hill, a crossbow held loosely in his grip. The white mask drew another dry sob from Tommy’s throat.

He should have known they would never be able to get away. All this pain had been for nothing.

“There you are!” Dream called, stepping lightly towards them. Tommy wrapped his wing around Tubbo, drawing him close, stepping back again, heart beating quickly.

There was a crack in the wall behind them.

He could see a corner of cobblestone through the crack.

“Tubbo,” he whispered. “You need to go.”

“Wh-” Tubbo looked up at him, shaking his head determinedly. “No, I’m not leaving you.”

Tommy pressed the axe of peace into Tubbo’s hands.

“Go. Please, he won’t kill me. Don’t lose it.”

“No - Tommy, your wings.”

He shivered at the reminder. But it would be worth it if he knew Tubbo was alive.

“Please,” he said weakly. “If one of us doesn’t get out, everyone will only hear Dream’s story. I’ll buy you time.”

Dream was stepping closer, swinging his crossbow with casual ease. Tommy shoved Tubbo, pressing the axe into his hand and forcing him into the small gap.

“Tomm-” Tubbo tried, but Tommy shoved him again, making sure he had actually gone before turning to face Dream, stretching his burnt and shaking wing as wide as he could.

“You found me,” Tommy said. His throat ached, and everything hurt so much anyway, how much worse could losing his wings be? Tubbo had a chance and that was all that mattered.

“Are you ready to listen to me now, Tommy?” Dream asked. “You should have learned by now - I know what’s best.”

Tommy wanted to curse him out. Really, he did. He could already think of at least five devastating and colourful insults. But he was exhausted, and everything hurt and he couldn't quite get the words out.

Dream was right, though. Every time Tommy had gone against him, it had only resulted in pain. L’manberg. The duel. Exile. Running away. Doomsday. And Tommy was so, so tired.

Maybe if he did what he was told, just got it over with, his friends could be safe.

At least if Dream was taking the time to cut his wings off Tubo would have the chance to escape.

His wing drooped and he dropped his hands.

“Fine,” he spat. “Green prick,” he muttered under his breath. Maybe he would go along with it for now, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Good to hear,” Dream said, and the smirk was clear in his voice. Tommy glared at him, then limped forward slowly as Dream held out a hand. Suddenly, though the impulse repulsed him, he wanted to feel the comforting touch that he’d grown used to in exile, even if it often brought pain. He didn’t care anymore.

An arrow skipped on the rock between them.

Tommy started, staring at the spot for a long moment, brain taking a while to catch up. Then he looked up slowly, turning to look at the rise beside him.

Dream was looking up as well, his mask making it impossible to see his reaction. But when Tommy turned to see what - or who - he was looking at, his heart skipped a beat.

Figures were standing on the rise behind him, Punz, a bow in hand, his eyes hard. Behind him stood Sapnap, Sam, Quackity, others Tommy couldn’t process.

They had come.

They had all come for him.

“I’m sorry Dream,” Punz said, stepping forward, switching his bow out for a glittering, deadly sword. “But you should have paid me more.”

Tommy took an uncertain step towards the cliff face, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Before he could fully react, Dream darted forward, grabbing his arm and hauling him backwards.

He let out a cry of surprise, stumbling over the uneven, hot ground.

“Let him go, Dream,” Sapnap said, eyes hard, sword tight.

“Let him go.”

A voice came from behind them and Dream started behind Tommy. Carefully, he let Tommy go, shoving him forward. Tommy collapsed to his knees, shaking, eyes blurring. Vaguely he was aware of Eret, Sapnap, Sam, Punz, others, surrounding Dream but he was shaking too much to properly process it all.

“Tommy?”

A soft, comforting voice spoke and he looked up to see Puffy leaning over him, her eyes full of concern and grief. Tommy swallowed thickly, eyes painfully dry because he had no water left in him.

“Tubbo,” he croaked. Tubbo was still out there. Tubbo was alone.

Someone helped him to a sitting position, supporting his back, muttering over the state of his wings. The touch made his skin crawl, but he didn't have the energy to resist. People were talking around him, whispering, their words floating out of reach.

Something cool was pressed against his lips and Tommy gasped as he felt the blessed cool sense of water. He swallowed quickly, gasping, hands reaching to grab the bottle.

“Easy,” someone said. “Take it slowly.”

“We got you.”

The water was taken away and Tommy breathed, feeling his whole body shaking.

“Tubbo,” he tried again. They needed to know. They needed to find Tubbo. “He needs help.”

“It’s okay,” he was vaguely aware of Puffy’s voice again, drifting into his understanding. “Quackity, Ranboo, Niki and Jack have gone to find him. Punz, Sam and Sapnap are taking care of Dream. You’re safe, okay?”

The water was returned and Tommy swallowed it again, feeling the blessed relief of water flowing down his throat. He never wanted to stop drinking.

But he was exhausted, and the world was spinning and everything was so hot, and Puffy’s hand on his back was so soft and gentle and they were looking for Tubbo and he collapsed into darkness.

~*~

Tubbo hadn’t wanted to run. He didn’t even know why he had run - it had all just happened so fast. Tommy had shoved him and the axe was heavy in his hands and then he had heard Dream’s voice and instinct had kicked in.

He had run. He had left Tommy behind and ran like the coward he was.

He stumbled through the Nether, moving further and further away, barely noticing where he was going. Finally, he tripped, collapsing and falling to the ground. His shoulder burned - the arrow grating painfully against his bones.

He struggled to a sitting position, curling into a tiny scoop on the side of the cliff face, gripping the axe of peace in one hand. He should go back. He should go back he should stop being such a coward.

Why hadn’t Tommy just let him die? All of this could have been avoided, and now Tommy was going to have his wings ripped from him and Tubbo wasn’t even brave enough to try and help him.

Some friend he was.

About a good a friend as he was president.

A failure. A failure and a pushover and a yes man and an idiot.

He was sobbing, dry, silent sobs that shook his shoulders. He hugged his knees, burying his face in them and sobbed, gasping for breath, the hot air suffocating.

He deserved to die here.

The sobs shook his whole form and he shuddered, gasping and trying not to make any sound but he couldn’t help it. He was working into a frenzy and he knew - he knew that somewhere Dream was dragging Tommy to isolation and darkness again. Or worse, pinning him down and cutting his wings.

He gasped again, choking and sobbing, his whole body shaking and shuddering. He didn’t care if anything found him - part of him wanted it to. He had abandoned Tommy and he deserved everything he got.

He had exiled Tommy, exiled his best friend. He was the cause of Tommy’s trauma and PTSD and pain. He had done that, and now he was grounding his friend as surely as he was welding the weapon himself.

Slowly, his choking sobbing gasps began to fade and he leaned against the side of the rock, not caring that it burned his cheek slightly. He closed his eyes, shaking, exhausted, just wanting to sleep and never wake up.

“...bo?”

Someone was calling. Tubbo froze, pressing a hand over his mouth to cut off the last of his sobs and biting his lip hard as his shoulder moved. His head was pounding and he gripped the axe tightly, daring whatever - whoever - it was to find him. Either he’d kill them or they’d kill him and either way he didn’t care.

“Tubbo!”

They were calling for him. He pressed himself further into his hiding spot, heart pounding. Why were they looking for him? Had they realized his part in all that had gone wrong? Was he finally going to be locked up in the prison?

“Tubbo! Where are you?”

More than one. He could make out a number of voices, familiar. Almost comforting. But he wasn’t going to reveal himself. Maybe they would pass him by and leave him to die like he deserved.

“Tubbo!” This voice was very close, and a moment later he could make out the tall figure of Ranboo, moving through the dim red light of the Nether. Tubbo still didn’t move, knuckles white around the axe of Peace, hand still pressed over his mouth.

“Tub-” Ranboo turned, and suddenly they locked eyes and Tubbo didn’t know why but he started shaking. “Tubbo!”

Ranboo rushed to his side, kneeling beside him and reaching a hand out. Tubbo shrank back, not even sure why.

“Uh.. okay, hey, it’s okay. We’re here to take you home, okay…” Ranboo glanced up, then back down at Tubbo, shifting nervously, clearly out of his depth. “Hoo boy... stay here a minute.” He stood up, waving at someone in the distance. “I found him!” Then he crouched back down beside Tubbo, eyes full of concern.

Tubbo finally managed to pull his hand away from his mouth, wrapping it around the handle of the axe of peace as well. Ranboo glanced down at it, then back up at Tubbo, then glanced into the distance.

“Is Tommy okay?” Tubbo asked, his voice hoarse and rough. Ranboo nodded quickly, and if he had had any more tears to shed Tubbo would.

“He’s okay, he’s uh - he’s a little - well, a lot - shaken up. But we found him and uh, and Dream’s being locked in the prison.”

Tubbo nodded, the information not quite processing. Tommy was alive, that was all that mattered.

A moment later Quackity was beside him, helping him drink soothing, cool, refreshing water. Then Niki was at his side, gentle hands removing the arrow from his shoulder and binding his wound. Then Jack arrived, helping him to his feet and they began to move through the Nether.

He barely followed what happened next. He was vaguely aware of them meeting another group of people just outside the main hub. Vaguely aware of discussion around him, the words swirling out of his reach. Niki was holding his hand and he focused on that because otherwise, he would collapse.

Cold air washed over him, slapping him into his senses for a moment as they stepped through the portal. It was raining, and Tubbo had never been happier to feel the drops of water on his face. He looked up, feeling the rain soothe his burnt cheek, ease his headache a little.

Eret was standing in the centre of the small group gathered around the portal. In his arms he carried Tommy, limp and unresponsive, his unbound wing dangling towards the ground, burnt and damaged.

“Tommy,” Tubbo whispered, breaking free of Niki’s grasp and moving to his friend’s side. He gripped Tommy’s hand, far too hot but at least that meant he was alive.

Eret started, looking down at Tubbo, his conversation forgotten for the moment.

“He’s okay,” he said evenly, his voice soothing. “I’m not sure how to tend to his wings though.”

The assembled group turned their attention onto Quackity, as the only other winged hybrid present. Tubbo couldn’t follow the conversation, gripping Tommy’s hand and staring at his friend’s face.

“Philza,” he whispered suddenly. When no one heard him he glanced up, meeting Ranboo’s gaze. “Wilbur used to look after Tommy’s wings,” he said softly. “He learned from Phil. Maybe we can take Tommy there?”

Ranboo’s face lit up and he nodded, and having said his piece, Tubbo zoned out of the conversation again. He was swaying, he knew, but he gripped Tommy’s hand, the axe of peace still in his other. The rain was nice. It was cool, it was wet, it was everything the Nether wasn’t.

“Tubbo.” Someone was calling his name and he started, looking up to see Eret speaking evenly to him. Somehow without him noticing, despite still gripping his hand, Tommy had been handed over to Puffy, who was carrying him with surprising ease for her small stature. “Puffy and Ranboo are going to take Tommy to Philza and see if he can help. If you come with me I’ll tend your wounds as best you can and you can get some rest.”

Tubbo blinked, gripping Tommy’s hand a little tighter, a sudden clenching fear filling his chest. He shook his head, stepping a little closer to Tommy’s limp form. He wasn’t going to leave his best friend alone again.

A muted conversation drifted out of his reach again and Tubbo just stood, tightening his grip on the two things he was holding. Finally, Puffy turned towards the portal and Tubbo went with her.

Stepping back into the Nether was the hardest thing he had ever done. The oppressive heat almost knocked him over and he shuddered, shutting his eyes for a long moment. Every step ached and he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep, but he needed to know if Tommy was going to be alright.

Halfway there, Tommy was shifted to Ranboo’s back and Tubbo found himself holding Puffy’s hand instead, staring at Tommy in front of him, refusing to let him out of his sight.

The sharp change of temperature woke Tubbo out of his half doze when they exited the portal, but the snow up to his ankles soon faded into background discomfort and he felt himself zoning out again.

At some point, Puffy must have picked him up because something warm pressed against his side and it didn’t ache quite so much.

Muted conversations happened over his head and he struggled to keep his eyes open, feeling rough wood under his feet. He saw faces, Puffy, pleading in her eyes. Ranboo, looking concerned and anxious. Tommy, eyes closed, unconscious. Phil, Techno, their faces flashing past almost too fast for him to register.

But they had made it, and Tommy was safe and how, Tubbo didn’t know, but he found himself curled on a comfortable bed, a warm body pressed beside him, feathers tickling his nose, his aches and burns hurting him a little less than they were before.

~*~

Tommy woke to someone gently preening his wing. He stiffened, tensing at the touch, heart pounding quickly, but after a long moment began to relax, the soothing motion familiar and comforting.

He was lying on his front, one wing tucked behind him, the other spread out off whatever bed he was on, careful fingers working at his feathers. Something warm and comforting was pressed into his right side, a rhythmic movement coming from whatever it was.

Low humming filled the room, along with the crackle of fire and Tommy felt himself relax even more. It was a familiar tune and his heart clenched slightly as he recognised it.

“Wilbur?” he muttered, before remembering that there was no possible way it could be Wilbur and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Not quite, mate.” The preening paused a moment and Tommy shifted his head, wincing at the headache that evoked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Phil, sitting beside the bed, Tommy’s wing spread over his lap. His own wings were tucked comfortably behind him, and once again Tommy felt the familiar sense of envy that came with seeing how beautiful and powerful those wings were.

“Oh,” he said quietly, unsure of how to respond. Why had Phil even let him in here? He was a nobody - a scrappy, annoying little friend of Wilbur’s who had tagged along to everything. And sure, maybe once he had seen Phil as a father, maybe once Phil had seen him as a son.

But that had been a long time ago.

Tommy pulled his wing back, suddenly not wanting to feel Phil’s fingers in his feathers. He wanted to sit up, but he knew that would mean moving far more than he was ready for.

“How’re you feeling?” Phil asked. Tommy shrugged, wincing slightly.

“Bit crap,” he admitted and Phil chuckled softly. It was almost too normal. Tommy didn’t like it.

“Fair enough. You were a right mess. You both were.”

Tubbo, of course.

He started, pushing himself up and collapsing almost as quickly, head spinning.

“Take it easy, mate. Tubbo’s okay.” Phil gestured and Tommy turned his head to see the familiar shaggy hair of his best friend beside him. He let out an uneven breath, closing his eyes before turning back to look at Phil. It was a little awkward from where he was lying, but Phil made no effort to move.

“Why are we here?” he asked.

“I’m the only one who knows proper wing care anywhere nearby,” Phil said. “They weren’t sure what to do.”

“Oh,” Tommy said. He felt a sudden tensing fear - had he and Tubbo been left here? What if Techno wanted to get revenge? What if they decided they didn’t want Tommy and Tubbo around anymore and threw them out?

He shifted his hand, searching until he found Tubbo’s and gripped it tightly. Tubbo shifted in his sleep, curling closer into Tommy.

“Calm down,” Phil said, a faint laugh in his voice. “You’re safe here.”

“Am I?” Tommy demanded, without thinking.

“Course. I’m not going to throw you out.”

“Techno might,” Tommy said. Again, he wasn’t thinking, but part of him didn't really care.

Part of him didn't really blame Techno for not wanting him around.

“Nah, he won’t throw you out while you’re still recovering.” He paused, reaching for Tommy’s wing again and Tommy stiffened, heart beating quickly as he jerked back quickly. “Easy mate, I just wanted to preen them a little more. Have you been taking care of them?”

“Why do you care?” Tommy asked. An expression of almost hurt flickered across Phil’s face, but he shrugged, drawing his hands back.

“You’ve got beautiful wings - so long as you look after them,” he said, almost dismissively.

“Yeah, might have been nice to have someone show me how,” Tommy spat. He shut his eyes, knowing he shouldn’t antagonize the people he was sheltering with.

“That’s not fair,” Phil said, accusation in his voice. Tommy scowled, reluctantly letting go of Tubbo’s hand to push himself up. Everything ached and his head spun, but he managed to struggle into a sitting position, reaching back to find Tubbo’s hand again as he shifted.

“Is it not? You know who taught me how to preen? Wilbur. You know who taught me how to fly? Wilbur? You know who patched up my wings when I damaged them? Wilbur did.” His eyes were flashing, and he only wasn’t shouting because he didn’t want to wake Tubbo. “And you destroyed his country, ground his memory into bedrock. And you -" His voice shook but he kept talking. "You killed him."

“I had no choice,” Phil said, his voice a little more guarded, a little more hurt and Tommy couldn’t help but be satisfied that he had struck a nerve.

“Sure, because you couldn’t have helped him.”

“He asked me to! What was I supposed to do? He had been twisted beyond help. He wanted to die.”

“Did you know that I wanted to die?” Tommy asked blood pounding in his ears. He was shaking, his free hand gripping the edge of his bed so tightly. Phil started at the comment - it was clear this was news to him. “Did you know that I thought about doing it? That I stared down lava and thought about how quick it would be to just be swallowed up?” He was crying, but he didn’t care. “That I made a tower so high and stood there for so long trying to build up the courage?” Phil opened his mouth to say something, but Tommy didn’t give him the chance. “If I had asked you then, would you have killed me too?”

He stared at Phil, not letting him break eye contact, not letting him escape the question.

“Tommy -” Phil began, hesitating. “It’s not the same-”

“Sure,” Tommy scoffed. “I don’t care. I don’t want to know. Y’know, I thought that once you could be a father. But clearly, you can’t. Not even to your own son. So piss off. Thank you for tending to my wings, but piss off. I don’t want to see you anymore. Not until you acknowledge that what you’ve done has hurt people.”

Phil hesitated, seeming to want to say more but Tommy didn’t listen. He dropped back down onto his stomach, turning his head away from Phil. A moment later, he heard the man stand and walk quietly across the room, closing the door as he left.

A moment later, Tubbo opened his eyes.

“You okay?” he asked softly, and Tommy nodded. He rolled onto his side, lifting his wing and wrapping it tightly around both of them.

“I’m okay,” he said quietly. “We’ll be okay.”

Tubbo hummed, moving closer and curling into Tommy.

“M’sorry,” he muttered finally.

“What for?” Tommy asked.

“....Everything. I’ve messed up so much. I’m a bad friend.”

“I don’t care,” Tommy said quietly. He hesitated… letting out a long breath. “You hurt me too, but at least you’ve apologised. At least you’ve realized. And I’m not innocent either. I’m sorry too.”

“Let’s stop hurting each other,” Tubbo muttered and Tommy snorted.

“Agreed,” he said quietly, wishing the same agreement could be made with the other inhabitants of the house.

~*~

They left two days later, the tension of the building too much for either of them to take. They saw Ranboo mostly, nervously visiting and checking up on them, changing their bandages and talking to them. Phil occasionally replaced the bandages on Tommy’s wings, but they didn't talk, and the tension was thick until he left again. He left them with a list of instructions of how to care of Tommy's wings, vanishing into the basement after handing the list to Tubbo without a word.

Techno wasn’t around.

He was waiting for them at the portal, a dog by his side that Tubbo eyed nervously. He stepped forward, striding confidently towards the two teenagers and stopping a few paces in front of them.

Tommy refused to be intimidated, staring him down, heart beating quickly.

“Techno - I…” he began, trying to figure out the best place to start. He wanted to apologise, he wanted to make it up, wanted things to go back to how they were. But he had no idea where to begin, no idea if Techno would even listen to him.

“I think you dropped this,” Techno said, not letting him talk. He held out his hand, the axe of peace gripped tightly in his grasp. Tommy started, staring at it, then back up at Techno.

“What?” he asked. Techno shrugged.

“Ranboo made me a new one. If you don’t want it, I can keep it though.”

“I -” Tommy carefully took it, heart beating rapidly in case this was a trap. Techno nodded once, turning to stride past them back towards the cottage. “Techno I…” There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to fix. Techno paused, glancing back at him. “I'm sorry,” he said finally.

“It might be best if you two stay away from here for a while,” Techno said. Then he turned and walked briskly away, cape fluttering behind him, dog matching his pace.

Tommy stared at the axe in his hand, breath in his mouth.

"Thank you," he breathed softly.

Maybe things could be fixed after all. Slowly, with work and pain and effort.

But maybe compromises could be made.

#dream smp #dream smp fanfic #tommyinnit #tubbo_#whump #wing fic #wing whump #tubbo #clingy duo #hurt/comfort #sleepy bois inc #angst

101 notes · View notes

nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Bodyguard - Six

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky X Politician!Reader

Summary: As a young and controversial politician, you face some opposition. After a death threat is made and your security is at risk, you agree to get a bodyguard. You don’t expect him to be the most irritating and attractive man on the planet. With a history so deep and twisted you never thought you’d figure it out, a terrible corporation is determined to take you out of the political picture; using any means necessary. The only question is, how far is James willing to go to ensure your safety?

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Injuries, Violence, Language.

Word Count: 1.5K

A/n: Um hi it’s only been like a year or something haha oops. We’re gonna have one more instalment to this series!

INSPIRED BY THE NETFLIX ORIGINAL: BODYGUARD

SERIES MASTERLIST

~*~

You watch as Bucky, Natasha, and Steve argue over what’s best for you to do. Bucky is adamant that you stay in the safe house, away from those trying to kill you, while Natasha argues that putting you in someplace where they can get you could lead them to get answers about who wants you and why they want you dead. Steve, the poor man, is trying to play mediator between the two hotheads.

“What are they expecting me to do?” You ask suddenly, getting the attention of the three.

Bucky looks at you with pursed lips.

“You tried to come clean on national television and they thwarted that. I assume that they think the message got across.” You nod slowly, thinking that over.

“So why don’t I do something that they wouldn’t expect? If they think I’ll lay low, I should do the opposite, right?”

An idea starts to take shape in your mind.

“I could make a public announcement from the safe house. Take a video and send it to every news station in the country to get my message across. Then, HYDRA will be exposed and I’ll still be safe here.” Natasha cocks her head to the side, eyebrows raised as she ponders it.

“Nat, no,” Bucky says instantly. She holds up a hand to silence him.

“We could have Stark secure the network. Make sure that no one can trace the video back here. She’d be safe and HYDRA would be exposed. It works.” You nod, happy that she’s agreed with you. Bucky sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“There’s no way I’m arguing with you two, is there?” You both shake your heads and he almost cracks a smile. Almost.

“Hello, all. I am coming to you from an undisclosed location to give you an update on the threat to America. It was speculated that the terrorists were from outside of the country, but I can confidently confirm that they are American citizens. They work for a terrorist organization known as HYDRA, and they’ve been operating since the 1930′s. Their goal, as of right now, is to strike fear in the hearts of the citizens and wage a war on the Middle East. We must not give in to them. I have been attacked many times, but I will not give in to fear. HYDRA will be stopped and they will be stopped soon. Do not engage if you see them. This is a message to the citizens of America and the terrorists of HYDRA. HYDRA will be stopped. And justice will be served.”

You rewatch the video one last time before sending it off, a weight lifting off of your shoulders while one settles on Bucky’s.

“It’ll be fine, James,” you whisper, taking his hand in yours. He sighs and shakes his head. “I have a bad feeling about this.” You wave off his concerns and stand up, stretching your legs and pulling him to his feet.

“Well... I think I know how to get your mind off of it.” He’s following you up the stairs to the master bedroom and you can’t help but giggle, all the while Tony Stark and Natasha are taking all preventative measures they can online, not wanting the video to be tracked back to the safe house.

Steve has called back up, to get extra security around the house, and sits in his car outside, watching the surroundings for anything suspicious.

~*~

You climb out of bed, grinning at Bucky’s sleeping figure. Rather than disturb him, you get yourself cleaned and dressed then head downstairs to make yourself some tea. The house, surprisingly, is empty, except for a note on the kitchen table written in Natasha’s neat handwriting.

‘Following up on a lead. Be back soon. Call if anything happens.’ You purse your lips and take a big breath in, hoping that this will all be over soon so that you can come out of hiding.

As you’re pouring the boiled water into your mug, a hand is coming up and covering your mouth. You go to drop the kettle, hoping the loud noise wakes Bucky, but a second set of hands grabs it and places it back on the counter.

You’re silently dragged from the house, tears in your eyes as fear spreads through your veins like wildfire.

Then you’re being shoved roughly into the backseat of a car, hands bound behind your back and a gag in your mouth.

You kick against the windows, hoping to break them and give yourself some way to escape, but one of your captors jumps to the back with you while the other takes off speeding down the road and away from safety.

The drive is long, with too many turns to count, and you feel yourself losing hope.

They finally pull up to a large house in the middle of an upper-class neighbourhood, the car sliding into the garage.

The gag is pulled from your mouth and then you’re being wrestled inside the house.

If you weren’t so focused on fighting the men holding you, you’d take time to notice how beautiful the house is.

Then you’re being pushed to sit down in a chair in the kitchen. You glare at the people holding you captive, angry and slightly terrified.

“You, my dear, are far smarter than you seem. Smarter than your father was.” You recognize that voice, and the fact that you do sends a shiver down your spine.

“President Pierce,” you state, not turning as the man walks into the room. He chuckles and sits down across from you, a smile on his face.

“You know, I thought you were dead for a while. Until that video came out. Stark is fast, but not fast enough. We tracked it down and found you. And look at that, you’re hardly surprised to see me here, are you?” You shake your head. You never had a good feeling about the president.

“Well, I’m not going to argue with you and tell you that I’m a good guy. Women like you can never see the bigger picture.” You roll your eyes at him,

“What bigger picture?! You’re trying to start a war with innocent people!” He chuckles and pats your cheek. “Oil. Oil is money. And money is power. Once we control the Middle East, we can start taking on Africa. And then Asia. Then Europe. Until the whole world belongs to us.” You shake your head, disgusted by his greed.

“You won’t get away with this. Everyone knows it’s HYDRA behind the terrorist attacks.” He clicks his tongue.

“Yes, that’s true. But all I need to do is make a convincing video of you confessing to lying, admit that you’re working for the bad guys, and then kill you. You’re a pawn in a bigger game than you know. And you’ve played your part beautifully. I’ll admit, you’re stronger than I thought, but even you can break.”

You open your mouth to speak when suddenly your phone starts ringing.

One of Pierce’s men hands the phone to him and he shrugs. “It would be suspicious if you left without your phone.” A gun is pressed to your temple and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“You’ll tell them that everything is fine and you just went out to grab a few things from the store,” Pierce instructs, accenting the call and pressing the phone to your ear.

“(Y/n)? Where the hell are you?!” Bucky’s frantic voice asks. You let out a shaky breath before answering.

“I’m fine. I just went to grab a few things from the store. You can chillax. And make sure you tell Sam to chillax too, okay? I know he specifically will worry so make sure you tell him to chillax.” He hesitates for a moment, suspicious and worried.

“I’ll tell him.” You feel your eyes start to sting.

“I’ll be back soon. I love you, James.” This is what really tips him off to something being wrong.

“I love you too.” He doesn’t hang up right away, he waits and listens to see if there’s anything to give away where you are.

One of the goons takes your phone from Pierce as he begins talking, hanging up after he’s spoken a few words.

“Steve!” Bucky shouts, dropping his phone and looking for the blond. Steve, Nat, and Sam hurry into the room, each with matching looks of concern on their faces.

“She’s with Pierce,” He says. The other agents look confused before Bucky turns to Sam.

“She kept telling me to tell you to ‘chillax’. I don’t know what that means but she said it more than once.” Sam’s eyes widen. “I told her that if she’s ever in trouble to say ‘chillax’. As a code word.” Bucky jumps to his feet.

“Fuck! I knew it! I fucking knew Pierce was with them. He’s gotta be.”

“Wait... you think that the President...” Natasha trails off and Bucky nods.

“Pierce is working with HYDRA.”

#Bucky x reader bodyguard au #bodyguard #bodyguard au #bodyguard bucky #bodyguard!bucky x reader #bodyguard bucky x politician reader #politician au #bodyguard!bucky x Politician!reader #bucky x reader au #Bucky Barnes x reader au #bucky x reader

100 notes · View notes

supernaturallyobsessedchic · 3 years

Text

Finding Him

AU!Dean x Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping/taken, angst, mentions/implications of rape, mentions of blood, gruesome I think, maybe. (If I need more warnings, I’ll add them. Not sure what I need for warnings right now) I would recommend to being at least 18 to be safe.

Summary: Dean doesn’t come home from a supply run. Sam and the Reader find the Impala, but no Dean. Who would take Dean? Why? Clock’s ticking.

Word count: 2,400-ish

a/n: Inspired by a fic called Lost by @talesmaniac89, only I switched the roles and the whole premise of the story in comparison.

Finding Him Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

His vision blackened by the dark hood that covered his head.

“See boss, I found him, one of the Winchester boys.” A male voice says. As if he were expecting a prize.

“Yes, I see that, you were also to get his little brother you nitwit!” another man shouted.

Dean could hear growls in the distance. Meaning he was dealing with more than just one monster. Also, what kind of monster?

“But doing this draws out his brother. Once he is out and about, I’ll get him.”

“You better, but watch out for his mate. I hear she’s feisty.”

Y/N, they knew her as well. But she was only with the brothers for, not even, 6 months now.

“Why again are we doing this? Why don’t we just swarm their base now? I mean, we can use his scent to lead us there.” A female voice was heard this time. She sounded rather annoyed by the whole situation.

“Because, it’s her I want.”

“Why?”

“She’s a half-breed. First of our kind. Her mother was human. They say half-breeds are weaker than their pure bred counterpart. But I beg to fucking differ!” the boss man got furious at a memory.

Y/N’s a what? Dean thought. He could only huff against the gag in his mouth that was tapped in by duct tape. His hands were bound by all kinds of bindings. Rope, tape and even chains. These werewolves took precautions to prevent Dean from escaping or fighting back.

Y/N must have done something to piss this guy off. He thought.

“Just bring the other Winchester, Lure this bitch out. I want her now!”

“Sam, I found the impala but no Dean.” She said into the phone.

“Store clerk said no one was following him in the store. So it must have happened outside of the store on the way home.”

“I don’t like this Sam, who would take him and why?”

“I don’t know. Come swing by, pick me up and I’ll drive Dean’s baby home.”

“Sure thing, then we’ll get hunting for your brother.”

She hung up the phone. She could smell it. It’s faint but it’s werewolf. Maybe it’s time to come clean about her lineage to Sam. It might help in finding Dean.

“So you’re a half breed. Half human, half werewolf? How’s that possible?” Sam asked. Not a hint of malice in his words, no hint of anger or hostility in his body language.

“My mom was human. My dad was an alpha werewolf. But my mom died giving birth to me. I never really had a mother. But there’s this other pack, my dad went rogue on them when they started killing humans. He’d kill his own members to save humans.” She explained.

“Your dad sounds like a good man.”

“He was. Then his alpha found us. Tried to take me. He fought back. Or, tried to. I managed to get away. But in the woods I could smell my dad’s blood. He kill him. I’m more than sure, he’s the one that took Dean. He’s trying to lure me out.”

“He really shouldn’t underestimate the Winchester way of doing things.”

“What do you have in mind, I do see those wheels in your head turning?” she asked.

“We’ll need Cas’s help. I’ll even see if Bobby or any of the apocalypse hunters are up for some fuckery.”

She smiled, what does this guy have in mind, must be awesome.

Weeks pass.

Sure he’d feed Dean, give him water even. But the alpha has a plan. And it’s not a great one.

He’s building an army.

“It’s my daughter, Alpha. She’s presenting, and I feel she is suitable for bearing a half breed.” Said a woman behind the door.

“Once she is fully presented, we’ll put him to work. And soon she will bear a half breed. Because if that bitch won’t come to me, we’ll come to her, with an army to boot.”

Dean swallowed thickly.

Already several scared girls had come in, he was forced to impregnate these girls. In hopes of making werewolves just like y/n.

He’s not dumb, half breeds are not as weak as people or other monster claim them to be. Because of their human counterparts, they don’t give up.

“How many have we made so far boss?” the same wolf that kidnapped Dean asked.

“9. Nine half breeds. And 5 of us. Two omegas, one beta, and two alphas. The half breeds don’t even need to present. That’s the thing we need to research further.”

“I’m sure our doctors in the sandy hills would love to look at them, and this girl of yours.”

“I’m sure. But, she’s mine. Mine to tame, mine alone. I’ll make an omega out of her.”

“You want to see what offspring you and her would produce?” he asked. Seeing his masterplan now.

“We need an army. Those British hunters already got the drop on us and have killed most of ours. But now, with us being mostly half breeds. We’ll see how much of a match we are to them.”

“Impervious to silver. But they’ll die like any normal human.”

“Maybe so. But we’ll train them in combat. We will win this.”

His comrade nodded.

A low growl could be heard from y/n as she paced the library.

“Weeks Sam, it has been weeks. We need to find him.”

“I know, Bobby’s trying to round up everyone.”

“I can feel them doing something to him, it’s not good. We need to hurry.”

“Like what?”

“I can’t describe it without making you feel uncomfortable. But it’s not good. Let’s just put it at that.”

Sam’s phone rang. Caller ID, Bobby.

“Hey, Bobby, whatchyou got?”

“Sam, bring your girl and come to our hide out. It’s getting bad out there.”

“Bad, bad how?”

“We’re out numbered. The amount of werewolves is growing. More than what we can keep up with.”

“Okay, we’ll pack what we can and meet you out there.”

Sam hung up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Their numbers are growing.”

“I told you it was bad.”

“What are you saying?”

“He’s making an army of half breeds. Like me. And he’s using Dean to help in that process.”

“You mean, he’s forcing these wolf girls to rape my brother?” Sam asks, growing sickened and angry.

“Yes. Which is why we need to hurry. Let’s just go where we need to go. I’ll tell you what we can do to win.”

“Great, not only are you like a human, but impervious to silver. So our bullets and knives won’t kill you.” One of the male apocalypse hunters fumed.

“So how do we kill them?” Meg asks.

“Just like how you’d kill any human. An ordinary weapon. But don’t injure them. Or Don’t waste time on the kill. They…we can heal quickly.”

“You have to have some kind of weakness.” Bobby says.

“Well, we’re not totally impervious to silver. I learned that the hard way from you hunters.” She says. “Just before I met Sam and Dean, I ran into a hunter. He learned of what I was. And tried to kill me. His silver blade slashed my arm. I had this nasty looking infection. But really it was poison.”

“Dean brought you back, and we healed you up.” Sam added. She nodded with a sad smile.

“That’s why you didn’t tell us. You were afraid we’d do that to you.” Sam says. She cast her gaze to her feet, fiddling her hands at her waistline. She felt Sam’s hand at her cheek. Coaxing her to look up at him.

“You had our backs, you saved Dean from shifters and wendigos. You saved me from vamps and werewolves. Cas from angels. Hell, even our own mother from a number of monsters. We wouldn’t have hurt you darlin’.”

“When he saved me, Dean. I imprinted on him.”

“How’d you…”

“I’m not sure. He felt safe. I felt safe. It was after he saved me, I’ve been able to feel what he feels. Know exactly where he was. Or is. Some say imprinting anyone, a wolf or human, is done by sex. But we didn’t do anything. He just held me. Safe in his arms.” She explained.

“Could be that. Could be a soul thing.” Bobby says. “Soulmates.”

Sam and Y/N nodded.

A moment passed. Y/N shook her head out of her thoughts.

“We need to get Dean back before the Alpha kills him. When he deems Dean no longer useful. I can, feel him. He does feel far. But I’m sure I can find him.”

“Well, let’s do this. Bobby, you, and the hunters try to get their numbers down. Kill as many as you can. Y/N and I will get Dean out of there. Then after—”

“I’m killing that Alpha, once and for all. More lives are in danger with him alive.” She growled.

Sam could only nod.

A shot rang out.

“All the guards outside are half breeds. Aim for the head.” She ordered the hunters that came along.

Shot after shot rang out.

She took in their scent. They weren’t that old, freshly presented. She stared at them in confusion. Half breeds don’t present. Unless a certain gene allows them to present or not enough research went into half breeds.

“Sam, you and I we need to move in. now.” She ordered. Sam nodded.

“Keep them from entering.” She told the hunters.

“Sam, let’s go!”

And they ran their way inside.

“Get the human!” the alpha ordered.

Dean, looking a bit rough from weeks and weeks of rough sex, little food and water and no sleep. The wolf picked him up by the collar, Dean grunted against the motion as his hands were bound behind his back since the day they brought him in here. His wrists have been cut up and bloodied from his struggles.

“I’d be happy to rip his heart out for ya boss.” He sneered.

“NO!” The alpha shouted.

The wolf shuddered.

“He’s mine.”

He threw Dean at the Alpha’s side.

Dean landed on his side with a hard thud and grunt. He was too weak to play the tough guy. Too weak to give a witty comeback.

He just laid there, waiting for his death.

Sam, preoccupied by other wolves in the warehouse as Y/N walked into the Alpha’s Domaine. His den, his ‘Throne Room’. He stood on a balcony meant for loading large machinery. It had no railing on one side.

She could smell his blood. Causing a growl to emerge deep within her chest. Her fists clench so hard she could draw blood.

“There she is.” The alpha growled.

“Here I am. Do you want to end this or should I?” she asked. Glaring down at him.

“You dare talk like that to your Alpha?” he growled.

“You are not my alpha, I’m no one’s alpha. You are a murderer.”

“Now, I’d beg to differ on that. You killed your own kind.”

“I have two kinds. Human and wolf. Humans seem a lot better than you.”

He growled at her remark.

“You mean, like this human!” he pulls Dean up by the collar. His sheer strength alone allowed him to hold Dean in the air, hanging him by his collar. He hung him over the ledge with no railing. Intending on letting him either hang to his death or drop him.

Her heart dropped.

Dean kicked, trying to get free. He began gagging for air.

“He’s weak, just like your father was. Your father was infatuated with a human and it weakened him. He was my right hand man!” he shouted.

She tried to keep a good poker face going. But Dean’s eyes began to roll as he was loosing more and more air.

“You are just like him. Infatuated with a human.”

“Let him go.” She says. Demanding.

The Alpha cocked his head, cocking an eyebrow, smirking. Oh, she thinks she’s going to have it easy. He thought.

“Please, I’ll turn myself over to you willingly. But you have to let him go. Alive!” she demanded.

“Hmm, such a tempting offer.” The Alpha says playfully. “But, no. I think I’ll pass.” He says.

He repositions Dean so he could easily wrap his hand around his throat. She could tell he was squeezing the life out of him, he kicked furiously, desperately trying to get free.

I hope this will work. She thought.

She darts, climbing up a stack of crates leading up to the platform.

She managed to get on the platform without him noticing. She could see the color to Dean’s face changing. His eyes rolling.

A fire burned in her eyes. He’s not going to take him from her.

With her claws now drawn, she forces her hand through the Alpha’s back and through his chest.

He can see what looks like silver nails on her claws.

The impact causes him to drop Dean.

He drops on to his back with a hard thud.

The Alpha gags as the poison from the polish is coursing through his veins.

“You really should have taken the deal.” She says. Pulling her hand from his back the Alpha drops dead with a thud. On the concrete ground below.

“Dean!” she gasps. Seeing him not moving.

She rushes to him, cutting him free. She brings her ear to his mouth. He’s not breathing.

“No, no, no. Dean, please.” She begs.

She works him over her shoulder as she get’s him to a more flat surface.

“Dean!” she heard Sam shout.

She laid Dean flat on his back and began doing chest compressions.

“Sam, Bobby, we need to get him help.” She begs as she worked on him.

“Cas!” Sam prays out loud. “Cas, if you hear me please, we need you to save him!”

“Cas!” she adds on. “Please, I can’t lose him!”

“Sam, Y/N.” Cas says behind her.

“Cas, help him.” She begs. Her eyes blurring with tears.

“I will try.” He says.

He places two fingers to his forehead. Only to see limited injuries healed. But Dean took in a deep, much needed, breath.

Cas falls back, weakened.

“I do not have enough grace to heal him completely. My grace has been depleting lately. Once I am fully regenerated, I’ll heal him again.” Cas says.

“Thanks Cas, it’s something.” Y/N says. “Let’s get him home.”

Part 2

What’d you think? Want more? Let me know either by ask or reblog. Remember, feedback is fuel.

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @jayankles, @mlovesstories, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @akshi8278

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 2/8/2021

66 notes · View notes

cutegirlmayra · 3 years

Text

Random AU Sonamy cause you know what?

Prompt:

It was time to go.

That other dimension… I didn’t figure I’d come back, but I couldn’t let my friends know that.

They each saw through me though, first with Tails and that Team Chaotix. Although Tails tried to send me off with as much hope as he could muster without shedding a tear, his entourage were wiping their tears without holding back or hiding. I respected them for it, but Tails even more, for how brave he wanted to be for me.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take of this…” I slowly raised my hand, expecting myself to say, ‘See ya around!’ but couldn’t muster it this time… instead, I just held it up… and let it flop down as though trying to act just as cool as my little dude.

I kicked the ground with a hop in my step as I moved back and raced off, heading to the next group, which were waiting to hold the portal for me when it opened.

“You’re a brave soul, Sonic… I’ve admired you for that.” Was probably the only directly nice thing Shadow ever said to me. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a swell guy! If you minus all the shady things he did in his ‘awakened’ life outside of Dr. Gerald Robotnik, but I could tell he was trying to be respectful too.

“Hey, it’s not that big of a sacrifice. Besides! With me gone, you’ll finally have a reason to show up!” I gave a goofy grin and put my hand to his shoulder, swaggering up with a wobble of my head and jerked upwards a thumbs-up from my hand.

He actually gave me a crooked smile for a moment… before dispersing off again with Rouge and Omega, looking disheartened.

Rouge looked like she wanted to say something, maybe ‘Be careful, Sonic’ but she didn’t quite get it out in time.

She stepped forward and put her hands to her chest, but as Shadow passed, looked down and decided not to say it. ...Probably for the best, I was getting sick of half-meanings. I wasn’t coming back, and the slim chance I could, I would be barely alive to tell the tale.

As she turned, something triggered in my mind. ‘Oh yeah… I’m forgetting someone.’ I felt myself getting reluctant. The person she reminded me of… the person that would definitely not be okay with any false hope, generalized chit-chat, and who wouldn’t hold her tongue back on how she felt about it.

Neither her tears… She would be the one to say, ‘Come back, Sonic.’ without a shred of regret.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and lifted my head up from that realization that I would have to face her… and convince her… of letting me leave…

For good this time.

“It’s not like you to look so gloomy, Sonic.” Knuckles… the only one who really wouldn’t put on a front that was fake.

I turned to him and flicked my nose, as we stood and faced each other, saying more with our stares into the other’s soul then any ‘not saying it’ goodbyes everyone else was trying to hold back.

He shakingly held up a hand, and seeing him about to lose himself, I took it immediately, giving him strength to help him rise up and stay strong.

He nodded, but couldn’t look back in my eyes… he was probably gonna cry somewhere off on Angel Island… and I… preferred it that way.

I gave a strong pull and tightened my grip on the embraced hands, giving him a strong look, and he finally smiled with a ‘tsk’, realizing I wasn’t gonna let him go till he could do it.

He returned the gesture and smirked, narrowing his eyes back into mine.

‘That’s it, buddy. Don’t falter the good fight.’ I thought to myself as we held that position for a moment, and finally… he let me go.

“Safe travels… but that would be an understatement.” He folded his arms, still smiling, before looking his head to the ground and concealing his smile… “Tails told me he wanted to say more to you… I would let him.”

“...Haa..!” I breathed out and arched my back towards the ground, not really wanting to face another hard goodbye so soon… but if it meant holding off from confronting Amy… I would do it. “Guess everyone’s taking my vacation kinda hard, huh?” I joked, but Knuckles just grabbed my head and started rough-housing his glove against my spiky quilled head.

“Get in a tan while you’re at it! You’re too pale skinned!” he gruffed.

I tried to push my head up but he kept it down, “H-hey! Knuckles!” but I did get a glance up… and let him keep my head down…

I could see water streaming down his muzzle like a cascading waterfall… guess I was bound to see it. No use keeping it all together and within.

With Knuckles and Tails… I embraced them, closing my eyes as Tails finally said what he really wanted to.

“I won’t forget you!” He cried out, gripping my back tightly. “I will be everything you believed me to be! I will protect the planet and things we love most, and I won’t let Eggman get away with this!”

‘Hang in there, buddy.’ I just lightly patted his back, about two or three, but was really starting to feel the toll now.

My eyes felt droopy, I was losing energy…

“You’re not gonna be alone! In that dimension, I’m sure you’ll meet others that look like us too! They’ll be there to support you, I’m sure of it!” Tails’s comforts only gave me a greater stone in my heart, but I knew he was only trying to help.

“Thanks, buddy. Take care of yourselves.” I pulled away but felt Tails resisting.

I paused as Knuckles saw I couldn’t show Tails my face… and took his arm.

“Come on, kid. He’s got a whole galaxy and then some to save.” Knuckles helped pulled Tails off and redirect his tears and anguish onto himself, having him coil up with his tails around Knuckles and start banging his chest.

“He doesn’t have to go alone! We could go with him!” he cried out, as I froze in my spot… tired. Too tired to even walk ahead… to be away from hearing it… to be away from my friends who were as close as family to my lonely self now… though I’d never admit it out loud.

“...Then who’d be here, Tails? Guarding the Master Emerald? Saving this world?” Come on, don’t give him--or me--that.” He patted his back strongly, “Stay strong, kid. We’ve gotta show him off with strength, it’s that strength he’ll need for the coming battle.”

“R-right…” Tails fought through his tears and turned around, “Sonic… We’re with you. You have our strength.” he held up his fists,... but I didn’t feel strength.

I felt so… weak.

I felt my body wanting to just submit but I wouldn’t let it.

I gave a sharp nod behind me, letting it linger, showing my friends nothing was going to phase me… and took off.

I couldn’t face Amy.

How could I?

I almost collapsed to my knees unable to move from everyone else!

However… my feet brought me to her home, and by now, it was pretty late at night.

She had no idea.

She didn’t know I was leaving, how long I’d be… how I needed her to move on.

A part of me hated to imagine that. But as I approached the home, the lights were out, and I felt a moment of relief.

‘Sleeping…’ my eyes lowered, as I tenderly and sorrowfully looked up to her window. ‘Quietly… peacefully… I shouldn’t disturb it.’

I felt so weary… tired of saying so many goodbyes without actually saying the stupid word.

I hated it.

The tears… the fear no one was admitting… the unknown was now looming over my fate, and at first I felt prepared… but now… I just wanted to get it over with.

‘Keep my friends safe first, then move on.’ I tightened my fist, finding a resolve. ‘I’ve gotta at least see her… Even if it is the last time…’

I felt power rising back to my bones, my muscles tensing and getting ready. I zoomed off to pick a flower, one I had always found to be Amy’s favorite--and well, might as well admit mine too--and took off to a tree branch right at her window.

I was off-balance, flailing a bit as I only had the tip of my shoe to steady myself on the ledge of her bedroom window, but putting the flower in my mouth I started to squeeze my fingers through the small crack under the plane.

It gave way, at last, not being locked.

I slowly rose it up after a few tugs and darted in, rolling on the ground with my quills as a cushion to make sure I landed swiftly but didn’t cause a stir.

Not much of a sound, besides the tumbling of my feet back to the ground.

I rose up and looked to my side…

Even in the night air, her quills swayed in blissful ignorance of the current situation. Her soft breaths lured me in and back, as my feet began to softly tread forward towards her.

I passed her nightstand, with a picture of us holding up peace-signs and hearts with our fingers and thumbs, just something goofy we did at some park or whatever.

Near it, a vase of the flowers I usually brought her. Some were wilted, yikes. I had kinda hoped I would visit at least enough times so she could switch them out frequently enough to not keep the dead ones.

I flinched at that imagery and thought… she kept the dead ones… when I didn’t replace them fast enough… and visit her often.

I took the flower out of my mouth and gently was about to place it on her nightstand… but stopped.

Time froze then, as my eyes darted up.

I won’t accept this.

I pulled back the flower to me and squinted my eyes, turning away from the picture and bent flowers, balding as their petals lay around the vase’s bottom…

I was getting irritated. Amy was the last, I had to do more than this. It wouldn’t be fair… no matter how much I dread it… I can’t just leave her without her final words…

I lightly pressed the freshly picked flower up to my muzzle… taking in it’s scent and thinking how I was going to do this… efficiently… without her suspecting this was my final farewell…

To lose her… to knowly have her lose me…

How to word this… how to even plan this?

All of that faded when I took another glance at her.

My serious expression was replaced with silent admiring.

She was so loyal. Any man would be crazy not to see her fidelity.

...She’d move on without me…

Find someone to love, Amy? I couldn’t say that, it almost made me gag to think about it. Plus, I’d think about it in hindsight once I’m floating in the nethersphere and realize that was too boldly assuming Amy could find anyone besides her miraculous gift at always locating me.

Be loved, Amy? As if no one does, that’s just cruel. She’s constantly surrounded by people and friends that adore her. No… No, I couldn’t say that.

She’d stir and think something was wrong with either of those lines…

I tapped the flower against my muzzle, further watching her quills sway gently in the blowing breeze, as though comforting her from the heat of the moment she was so innocently unaware of.

‘Alright,’ I finally said, having taken long enough time to figure this out. I hadn’t thought about any of my goodbyes this long because the people were already awake and holding up fronts. No fronts here… Just Amy. Sleeping. Waiting patiently for me to come by and replace a dozen of her dying roses…

Man, this was hard.

I leaned my head back and felt myself wincing at the idea I had come up with. Fool her into thinking she was dreaming? It could work, since Amy often daydreams and would go, ‘Is this a dream?’ quite frequently.

Yeah… That outta do it.

I sighed, this would still be faking it unless…

I twirled the stim of the flower between my two finger tips…

Unless I put the front down.

I looked away… I knew what I was talking about, duh.

But… that would be hard. I’m normally really shy about expressing my feelings, especially when it comes to receiving admiration or… Well, or this.

I lightly kissed the flower for good luck, winked to try and get myself into a romantic mood, but also took a long breath in and harshly let it out in a bit of stubbornness to prepare myself for speaking with my heart over my image…

Her hero… deserves to send himself off after wishing her goodnight.

I moved to her bedside and decided it was best to bend to one knee, at least, she may find it endearing.

Lightly, I teased her awake gently by brushing the rose over her eye, twiddling it before lightly stroking her face like it was a paint brush.

She gave little, soft groans of discomfort, tenderly waking up as I smiled in eagerness to see her again.

I didn’t want to think this was the last time, nor play it out like that.

I wanted, at least this one, to be genuine but disguised as a wishful, whimsical dream she was having. I could… send myself off knowing she was happy.

That was the way I wanted it to be. An ideal.

Amy crying in my arms and me having to hold her till it was time to go was too painful to even bare a thought of!

I didn’t want to waste my time trying to comfort when this wasn’t something that anyone could be comforted on!

Strength… Knuckles spoke of strength?

I tsked, I didn’t want to leave Amy with ‘strength’ or take anyone else’s strength when they needed all the help they could get!

They already mustered everything together to see me off, I wouldn’t bare it again, I would never let Amy bare that either…

Maybe she’d hate me when she fully came too, realized what had happened, and sob for centuries…

I felt something stab at my throat, and I forced myself to swallow after a few failed attempts.

‘Don’t cry, Amy… I want to make that very clear.’ I thought I could do this, but seeing her blink her eyes open made me realize how I really just wanted to flee from this whole ordeal.

I didn’t want to break Amy’s heart. Even knowing she’d cry later was just as equally tormenting than having her do so in front of me now.

I wouldn’t break her heart… but I probably should. I wouldn’t dwell too much on it. Amy’s a big girl now, she’ll have to come around and realize that I’m not coming back-

I couldn’t finish my thoughts as she rubbed her eyes and yawned, looking over to me.

“...Emm… Sonic?”

Now was my last chance… to tell her everything or… at least, not put up the charades anymore.

“Heya.” I whispered, finding a smile I didn’t realize I still had. “Long time no see.”

She looked a bit confused, maybe still half-way through dreamland, but relaxed back and took my hand holding the flower, “Flowers~” she giggled, and suddenly my entire night was made.

“Yeah, just for you.” I played, dangling the flower above her head and watched her drowsily paw at it like a cat would a string. She scrunched her nose up, still snickering as though trying to laugh but her lungs hadn’t woken up that far yet.

“I like it.” she yawned again, and her batting reach grew lesser and lesser until I handed her the flower. “I missed you.” her grip on my hand was so light… I didn’t realize how the touch would send me into such immediate, gripping grief.

My heart was being choked, man, I’m so dramatic! I never knew I could feel this intensely about something like saying goodbye to everyone!

It wasn’t goodbye… If I told myself that, I could do it!

“I-” I felt my voice get constrained and had to take a moment to wipe my own face and get a grip. ‘Keep it together, Sonic… or she’ll know.’ I pep-talked myself and shook my head, “I thought you would.”

“Hehe… You’re still funny.” she let her sluggish finger poke and slide around my face, making me watch her with a puzzled but funny look that continued to keep her laughing.

“Am I still in a dream?”

That… made me so happy.

“Well, depends.” I stated, getting comfortable as I moved from my knee to squatting by her side, inching closer and pulling my hands back to give my heavy head some leverage… more than what I could do for my heart at this point. “What was going on in your dream?”

“Hmm…” she thought a second, almost closing her eyes and drifting back to sleep.

Maybe that was for the best… but…

I kinda didn’t want it to end.

“Amy..?” I lightly called out to her as her eyes twitched slightly and she graced me again with their vision… green… darker than mine, but emerald like the sea below Angel Island… highlighted by it’s chaotic glow.

“We were… having a picnic… in Spagonia, maybe?” she rubbed her eyes, still having the other hand holding mine.

“Ah, I remember that!” I instantly found myself looking up, and my spirits soar. “You were so obsessed with the architecture! You barely ate, you had so much to say about how beautiful it all was.”

“Well, it was..!” she lazily commented, her eyes trying to fight the sleep. I didn’t feel bad about keeping her somewhat awake though… I realized… I needed this. I needed this too.

“Amy… You were beautiful there too.” My words I had never uttered allowed, now made me think back and remember all the times I’ve thought it, but wouldn’t dare speak it out loud. “But you know that, don’t you?” I smiled even wider, seeing her pause a second as though falling back to sleep or in disbelief.

“This is a dream!” she exclaimed and started laughing as though evilly, “Then come to bed. I need a good cuddle…”

I looked away and had to hide my snickering, I never knew Amy could be scandalous! ...scratch that, I never knew she would DREAM of something so ridiculous!

“How about just your hand?” I cradled it with both mine, seeing her fiddle with the flower and press it right up to her nose. I worried it’s strong scent would wake her up… but it didn’t. I tossed her dead-weighted hand around and toyed with her a moment, before lowering my head to it, and letting her own scent trail its way into my memory and feel her warmth from the bed’s covers override my own heated anxiety.

“Amy… I-” I felt my eyes growing sleepy too… All the times I could have just teased her by climbing over the covers and laying beside her… how I wanted that more than ever, to just… take a nap and let each other hold the other… No images, no expectations… just.... Tired. “I missed you too.”

“Hmm?” she was waking up more, I needed to make this quick.

“Heh,” In the moments I had had with her… this was bound to be the best, though bittersweet, of my favorites. “I’m gonna miss you… but I need you to go back to sleep now, finish that wonderful dream of yours… and never stop having it.” I couldn’t tell her to move on. Gosh dang it, I couldn’t!

I was holding her hand, I was letting it rest right up against my face and I- … I-!!!

I was getting to invested in this goodbye.

I speedily let go of her hand and got up, startling her awake.

“H-huh?”

I gripped my fists tightly, “This was a mistake.” I looked away, “I can’t stay here… I can’t say these things anymore.”

“Sonic..?”

“I have to go away now, Amy.” I couldn’t be sweet to her, I’d ruin her!

“What… why?” she started to turn on the bed, “Is this… real?”

A real nightmare. I was gonna die. I knew it. Even if I lived, I would be stuck in another dimension with no way out.

Tails… Even if there was another Tails, Knuckles, and-... And Amy! I would owe it to her but..! But..!

“If I find you again… I won’t hold back anymore, alright?” I didn’t want to make a promise.

“What..? N-no…” She started to sit up on her bed, and I rushed to put the covers back over her, hoping to convince her to go back to bed.

“No other will do… that’s wrong, isn’t it?” I had seen people who looked like my friends in other dimensions… it was foolish of me to think that would suffice. Amy… if she knew what I was saying, she’d probably stomp the ground and cry out that it wouldn’t be fair, that none of those other girls were still her… it would be too cruel. I’ve messed up. I’ve gotta go-!

I felt her suddenly grapple me and turn me onto the bed.

“A-Amy!” I was absolutely startled, I didn’t expect her to be so strong while she was still getting up.

“I’m cold.” she lied, holding me down and tightly. “Don’t go.”

“Amy, I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore..!” I tried to fight it, but she was absolutely strong, and I even questioned if she was faking being asleep.

But I waved my hand over her eyes and watched as they closed and she was slowly falling back to sleep.

“You make this so challenging.” I huffed, but smiled and chuckled at how even in her sleep, she was a rascal. “I can’t stay…” I lightly put my hand to the side of her face, which she leaned into, and tried to move her head to my chest. “But trust me,... if there is a way… I won’t fail you twice.” I cupped her adorably sleepy but scarily strong head in my hands as she tried to resist it a bit, but was able to move and lower her back to her pillow. Slyly figuring out a way to not disturb her, I pushed the other pillow to have her hold it, and made my way out of her grasp. “Phew…”

Memories of Amy’s antics swarmed me… then Tails… then Knuckles… then everyone…

I ended up falling to my butt and spending a good minute trying to conceal my tears without a sound.

She fell asleep… thank goodness.

I got up and picked up the flower that was slightly crushed from under her back, and placed it back on the counter. I took two petals that had fallen and placed one in her hand… then the other I tucked under my glove and held in the space between my bare palm and glove.

“Don’t wait for me anymore.” I tugged the bottom of my glove down, making sure the petal wouldn’t accidentally fall out and that it was secure. I gave one final, good look over to her…

“...But dream of me… always…”

-A New Day-

I woke up immediately when I groggily read the text from Tails that Sonic was badly injured, but somehow, used the last of the Chaos Energy inside his body to locate the Master Emerald across dimensions, and jumped!

“Jumped!? W-woah-woah!” I fell out of my bed and crashed hard on my chin, but adjusting to the pain, I kept scrolling through the updates.

He was Chaos Controlled directly from the Master Emerald with the help of a confused Knuckles who reacted at once and used his own influence over the Master Emerald to channel it’s power to wherever Sonic was reaching from.

He apparently came back, half-alive…

My eyes shook in terror, “Oh, Sonic!” I felt my heart leap out of my chest as I quickly wrote back as I spoke the words aloud. “Where is he!? I’ll house him. Tell Vanilla and Cream to bring everything to my house! Food, medicine, the works! We won’t lose him again!”

My eyes were still red from countless, sleepless nights of waiting for him to come through my window and surprise me again. I really had thought I imagined it… but I woke up with a petal from a new flower in my hand, and looked to see the one from my hallucinations that night on my nightstand.

When the others told me what he had done, I bashed the trees down and ranted with a mighty thunder in my step and tone how they should have believed in him more, should have given him hope, and the strength he needed wasn’t their undying love for him but their support in that he could do the impossible!

I kept telling myself, ‘Of course, he’ll come back!’ but my anger was from knowing that when he was trying to take my hand and say goodbye… he couldn’t.

He needed me! Oh, how my Sonic needed me to pull him in and shout out to the universe that he was going to be alright, that he was going to return, and that none of this was necessary!

I should have woken up and seen more clearly! I should have… I was the only one who could have contested their naysaying and cheered him up. I would have… I would have gotten so many words out that would be completely incoherent due to my rushing tears…

They brought him to me right away, and I was upset I couldn’t reach them in time to have helped moved him, but they insisted I stay put.

When I saw him… on a white gurney and barely able to stay awake… looking rough and completely done for… I felt my whole being cry out that he would make it… but my whole being slid down the door’s frame at just seeing him look so badly… so drained of life...

He was out for days… but he had been gone for so long…

I was replacing his bandages, starting with the cooling rag, I was just gonna wipe him down from the sweat. I put him in my own bed and was sleeping by the side of the bed with my head to his side at night… sleeping in my chair, nursing him back to health.

He didn’t make much noise expect for awful twitches that would make me think he was dying… it scared me so much… but I held his hand as he would groan in his sleep, as though trying to move and wake up … but couldn’t.

Couldn’t… shouldn’t… wouldn’t…

Could, would, should…

These words were infuriating me lately.

I dipped the cool rag into the water on my nightstand, which I had used to replace the vase with flowers, but kept the last flower in a see-through box, letting it sit on my windowsill as I waited through endless nights for him…

My eyes must have made me look like a raccoon rather than a hedgehog by now… but as I wiped them and patted his darling, but hurt face… I finally saw him breath out and roll his head towards my touch.

My eyes widened, was this his last breath or first real moments of consciousness?

“S-…” I felt my voice break against a dam of emotions. “Sonic?” Then flood my mouth, “Sonic!?” the sound vibrated to every cell, sparking me to life as I jolted up and hung over him. “Sonic, can you hear me!?”

His eyes were blurred, but he opened them, looking around as though unable to see me.

“Sonic! Sonic, you’re alive! You’re here!” I said that to assure him of him, not for myself.

I embraced him with restrained joy, trying to not hurt him further, as I heard him cough and try and reach his hand up.

I immediately pulled back and helped him up, hearing him hiss at the pain but fighting it.

“S-sorry! I’ll let you rest more-” I was gonna lower him back down but he put a hand out to my shoulder, as though telling me not too.

He adjusted himself to leaning back and I put pillows in his way to give him some comfort as he was somewhat up now.

“How are you feeling? You okay?” That was stupid to ask, but I was so worried… one peep, one little, measly sound would drown out all this panicking… anything!

He coughed again, and looked around.

Seeing where he was, his eyes widened and he looked back to me, as though stunned.

“You’re home… Sonic, you’re…” I covered my mouth, bursting into tears and dropping to my knees, holding myself up with my other hand gripping the bed.

I turned my hand around to show him the palm of my hand, tucked into my gold bracelet was his petal he had left in my hand, ripped and torn, crinkled and decaying… I never let it go.

He smiled and let out a puff of relief and--what I assume to be--joy as he scratched weakly at his own glove.

“Y-you want it off..?” I was speaking through tears, and blinked several times to see what I was doing, and wiping my tears away before lifting his glove up and seeing…

Not even tarnished. It was as though the petal in the palm of his hand was eternal, as though the dimension was only a blink in time, but it was still a vibrant rosy color, pinkish hue, but leaning more towards the red.

I dipped my head to his hand and just cried, kissing the palm and the petal as I knew what it meant.

“I missed you too.” I finally broke my voice and wailed in my tears.

I knew he hated goodbyes and crying…

But I knew how much he loved ‘hellos’.

(resisted Italics this time lol Better with or without them? -meaning both Bold, Underlined, etc.-)

(ALSO! I remembered I was gonna do kissing but I was so wrapped and enthralled in the drama that I forgot o-o; Eh, makes it more in-character XD)

#no italics this time #I resisted lol #better with or without them?#sonamy #sonicxamy #sonic and amy #cutegirlmayra #sonic prompt #sonamy prompt

78 notes · View notes

anarchyduck · 3 years

Text

Spiders on Alcohol

AO3 Link Here

CW: Underage Drinking, but that’s about it

-----

“Sir, you have an incoming call from Mr. Parker.”

Tony’s first thought is the kid is hurt. The rational side quickly takes over, reminding him that if the kid was hurt then he would receive a message from his AI Karen. The kid could be - has been - on death's door and wouldn’t call.

His second thought is how late it is. The time on the stove read 12:30 in glowing blue numerals which is way past the kid’s curfew.

A third rapid thought is it’s also Peter’s night off. His suit isn’t active; FRIDAY would have told him the second it became active.

“Patch him through.” Tony says as he rinses off a plate and puts it into the dish drainer.

“Yes sir.” FRI replies.

There is a brief pause then Tony says, “You’re lucky I don’t need sleep. What’s up?”

When he doesn’t immediately receive a response, he frowns and turns off the water. Paranoia tugs at the edges of his mind and Tony shoves back the worst case scenarios that try to pop into his mind. He opens his mouth, the kid’s name on his tongue, when Peter finally speaks.

“Mis’er Stark?” He sounds confused. “Why… Why do you have Happy’s phone?”

It’s Tony’s turn to be confused. “Because you didn’t call Happy, you called me.” He grabs a nearby dish towel to dry his hands. He can hear what sounds like a car honk and Peter’s breathing. He’s not at home, clearly.

“Oh… Shit.” Peter mutters something Tony doesn’t quite catch. “S-Sorry, didn’t mean… Meant to call Happy. Not-Not that I don’t like talkin’ to you, Mis’er Stark. You, you’re cool and uh…”

“Yeah, I am cool. What’s going on, kid?”

“Uhm…” Tony hears the hesitation and for a split second he thinks Peter may hang up on him. “Can, uh, can you…can you like, come get me?” The request is so small, so quiet, and Tony knows something is wrong.

“Yeah,” Tony says immediately. His heart rate spikes with anxiety. Damn kid is going to be the death of him one day, he knows it. God. “Yeah, I can get you, where are you?”

Peter sighs with relief. “Huh? Uh I’m uh, what street is this… I don’t, hold on-”

Tony slips on a pair of loafers (grandpa shoes, as Peter calls them) as the call shifts seamlessly from the overhead AI to his phone. He grabs his wallet and keys on his way out the door, and is in the garage by the time Peter comes back on the line.

“Fifth and, uh, Fifty-Nineth.”

Tony nods to himself as the car revs to life. “Okay, Fifth and,”-- and he pauses as it dawns on him --“Wait, Fifth and Fifty-Nineth? What are you doing so far out of Queens?”

“I don’t have to stay in Queens all the time.” Tony can practically hear those brown eyes rolling. “I can like go other places, have gone other places! There’s like, a whole big ol’ world out there Mis’ser Stark and yeah Queens is big too I guess and like-”

Tony frowns lightly and glances toward the dash as he drives. Peter is still rambling and his words are going together and it sounds awfully familiar in a terrible way.

“Peter are you drunk?”

The kid blows a raspberry in response. “Whaaat? No! No, I’m not drink, drunk.” His voice cracks and raises a couple octaves as Parker lying syndrome kicks in. “I’m totally, one hundred percent not drunk!”

“Oh my God.” Tony breathes out a breath. “FRI, find the quickest route. Kid, you stay put. I don’t want you to move an inch off that sidewalk. Got it? Find a bench and park it.”

----------

He finds the kid exactly where Peter said he would be. He’s laying on a bus bench, one arm hanging over while the other is crossed over his eyes. For a split second, Tony thinks he’s asleep (passed out) but he sees Peter’s leg bouncing where his foot is planted on the concrete.

“Hey, underoos.” Tony calls as he climbs out of the vehicle. The kid stirs, arm uncovers his face as he looks at him with a goofy grin.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter sits up and practically jumps from the bench. He sways a little on his feet, takes a step back, then bounds forward, damn near skipping as he meets Tony at the car. “Hey, man, wow, you’re here. Cool.”

“What, did you think I wouldn’t come?” Tony circles around the front of the vehicle where the teen is leaning against the passenger door. He doesn’t look hurt. No blood, no bruising. However, the closer Tony gets, the stronger he smells alcohol, particularly on Peter’s breath. “Wow, damn kid you smell like a brewery.”

Peter’s brows pinch together as his eyes widen. “Really?” He puts a hand up to his face to check his breath. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow. Okay, come on let’s go.” The kid doesn’t put up resistance as Tony puts him into the car. Peter leans back into the leather, eyes wide as he stares up, unaware as Tony buckles him in.

He breathes out and giggles. “Feel like I’m floatin’.”

Tony snorts with amusement and shuts the door. He rounds the car back to his side, gets in and takes off onto the road. At first, he thinks of heading straight for Queens and depositing the kid at home. But the penthouse is closer and the more responsible side of Tony’s mind says he shouldn’t leave a drunken teenager alone.

“All right,” he starts. “So spill. What are you doing over here.”

“Got invited to a party.” Peter runs his hand against the bit of smooth metal on the door. “And like,” he sighs as he nestles into the seat. “It was so weird, Mr. Stark because I didn’t know no one, anyone, and it wasn’t anythin’ like Liz’s party. Ned wasn’t there and MJ wasn’t there and it was so weird, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah?” it’s all Tony can say to that as the kid barrels on forward.

“Yeah! Liz, Liz didn’t have alcohol because we were all underage anyway and her dad would’ve killed us. He tried to kill me, ya know? Like… a few times. God what if the dude who owns that house back there is like, this… big super villain who I gotta fight later and how weird would that be? Get invited twice to a party where the-the guy tries killin’ me later.”

“I would say that would be very weird.” Tony agrees. “And that you probably shouldn’t put that out there in the universe.”

Peter groans and Tony glances over to see him fumbling at the side of his seat. It takes him a second to realize what the kid is looking for.. “FRI, lean his seat back.”

The kid’s eyes go wide as the seat reclines back and he laughs lightly to himself as he lays back. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.” He drags a hand over the side of his face and pokes at his cheek with another laugh. “My face feels weird.”

Tony chuckles. “Yeah, bet it does. How much did you drink?”

“Uhhh…” Peter trails off as he keeps poking his cheek. “More than one?”

Oh yeah, the kid was going to be feeling it later. “Just promise you won’t throw up in the car.”

----------

To Peter’s credit, he didn’t puke in the car. They make it back to the penthouse and by the time they walk through the door, Tony is almost carrying the kid. Peter rambles the entire way, making comments here and there; talking to Tony; talking to FRIDAY; talking to himself. He’s leaning heavily, stumbling in his steps, and giggling.

“Okay webs,” Tony sets the kid down on the bed in the guestroom. “Stay here, don’t move, I’ll get you some water.”

“‘Kay.” Peter says as he flops back onto the bed.

Should he remove his shoes? Tony tries to think back to what others did for him, but comes up with nothing. God what he wouldn’t give for Pepper to be here. She would know what to do. Luckily the kid makes the decision for him and kicks off his shoes as he curls up onto his side.

“Going to get you some water. Don’t move.” Tony says again, pressing his voice a little firmer to drive his point across. Peter doesn’t do much more than hum in reply and he feels confident enough the kid will be fine for at least a couple minutes.

Tony runs a hand through his hair as he breathes out a sigh. How did he get stuck babysitting a drunk teenager? That said, it couldn’t be any harder than babysitting a stabbed teenager. Least the kid doesn’t have to worry about needles. May Parker crosses his mind as he fills a glass from the tap and he takes his phone out of his back pocket to send her a message.

Your kid is staying over at my place for the night. Don’t worry, he’s ok. Working?

Tony receives a reply much quicker than anticipated.

Double shift

Trouble?

Well that certainly explains how the kid snuck away from home. He can’t see May letting her sixteen year old nephew go to a party where alcohol would be served. Hell, he’s still wrapping his head around the idea Peter willingly went to a party on his own. He types out a reply:

100% grounded.

The phone pings with another quick reply.

Totally

Ty tony

Tony sets the phone down and picks up the glass of water as he rounds the kitchen island to head back into the room. He fully expects to see the kid right where he left him, curled up on his side or maybe on his back again. Humming or singing to himself, complaining about the room spinning. Instead, he finds an empty bed.

He sets the glass on the bedside table while glancing about the room. “Kid?” he calls, eyes even stealing a look toward the ceiling because who knows at this point.

It’s the sound of gagging and retching that directs him to the bathroom. Door is left open, lights off, and when Tony flips them on, he finds Peter vomiting into the toilet.

“Yeah, that’s about right.” he sighs.

Peter gags and spits into the bowl. “It went through my nose.”

Tony grimaces sympathetically. “That’s gross,” he says. The kid heaves again. Tears run down his cheeks as he gasps for breath, no doubt fighting the nausea and contracting muscles. It’s a fight Tony himself knows all too well and lost far too many times. The nights when he was caught in another bender, coming home from some nameless party with or without some nameless face, and always ending up exactly where Peter is now.

How many times was someone there for him? How many times was he alone?

“I’m so s-sorry.” Peter lets out a strangled sob. “I never… I didn’t mean to be, so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” Tony says as he wets a washcloth in the sink. “A dumbass, yes. But not stupid.”

“Never should’ve gone to that party. Bad idea. Dumb idea. Didn’t… I didn’t even know no one there and I jus’ wanted to be cool.”

Tony scoffs. “By drinking a shit ton of alcohol? Yeah. Real cool.” He frowns to himself at the firm undertone and adds, “But I get it.”

Peter spits another sting of bile and takes the offered washcloth to wipe his face. He manages to flush the toilet and attempts to stand on his feet, only to sway backwards and hit the wall with a thump.

“Ow…” the kid groans and Tony is sure he’s being tested by some form of higher power.

“Okay,” he sighs. “Let’s get you up before you decide to pass out in my bathroom.” He grabs the teen by his arms to pull him up, finding himself doing most of the lifting despite Peter’s clumsy and fruitless attempts to stand.

“‘m not gonna pass out…” Peter sniffles as he leans against Tony. He’s still clutching the washcloth.

“You know,”--Tony maneuvers them back into the bedroom and sits Peter on the edge of the bed-- “for a scrawny kid, you’re solid as hell.”

“Not scrawny.”

“Uh huh.” Tony picks up the glass of water. “Think you can hold down some water? You’ll regret it in the morning if you don’t, believe me kiddo.”

Thankfully the kid manages to take a drink without spilling it on himself. Even manages to put it back on the nightstand without slumping over. “Okay, spider baby, bedtime for you.” Tony eases him down onto the bed on his side, ignoring any and all mumbled protests (“I’m not a baby.”). He draws the blankets over him and leaves just long enough to grab the trash bin from the bathroom.

Peter hasn’t moved from his curled up spot, but Tony knows the kid isn’t asleep yet. He’s staring at the wall ahead of him, seemingly unaware. Part of him is impressed the teen hasn’t passed out yet.

“Penny for your thoughts, kid?”

Peter slowly blinks then frowns. “You’re like… super rich, Mr. Stark. My thoughts are worth way more than a penny.”

“A quarter then.”

“Cheap.” The kid mutters with a small hint of a smile. It’s gone alarmingly quick as Peter begins to worry the edge of the blanket between his forefinger and thumb. “Jus’ thinking… my Uncle Ben said he’d buy me my first beer. Said it’s like… a dad thing or whatever, but since I don’t have one, he said he’d do it.”

Ben was a rare subject and one Peter didn’t bring up lightly. It wasn’t fair for the kid. The universe kept throwing more and more shit at him and it wasn’t fair. Anyone else would turn bitter but not Peter. He was good and kind and unlike anyone Tony had met. He’d do anything for this kid.

“Well,” Tony sniffs and clears his throat as he sits on the edge of the bed beside Peter’s legs. “My dad never did that stuff with me either. I was already at MIT when I was your age, going to parties and sneaking into bars. Doubt the man would have done it anyway.” he adds with an undertone of bitterness before charging forward. “Anyway, I’m just saying when you’re older, and I mean when you turn twenty-one, how about I buy you a beer?” The blankets shift and Tony feels eyes on him. “Unless it’s overstepping, which I completely understand and-”

“Yes.”

The words stop dead on his tongue and Tony finds the courage to look at the kid. There are tears in Peter’s eyes, but he’s smiling. “Yeah?” he presses and the teen nods. A strange weight lifts from Tony’s shoulders to the point he finds himself smiling in return. “It’s a deal then. So no more drinking until then or else I’ll find another intern to dote on.”

“No you won’t.” Peter yawns and settles against the pillow, eyes drooping close. “‘m your favorite.”

Tony smiles and brushes back some wayward curls from the teen’s face. “Yeah, you are.”

#irondad #marvel #spider-man #peter parker #tony stark #spider-man fic #mcu #duckie's writing #it's done!#the beast has been slain and I'm so proud of it tbh

64 notes · View notes