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#sorry for the bony elbows
sorryforthebonyelbows · a month ago
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Franz Kafka, The Diaries of Franz Kafka
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Allie Ray, Holler
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Richard Siken, Crush
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faghowardhamlin · a year ago
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everytime I read Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out by richard siken moodboard
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echothelover · a year ago
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You ever read a poem that feels like it shakes the very foundation of who you are?
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trashmouthkid · 2 years ago
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me: *chilling, minding my business*
my brain, inevitably: hello darling, sorry about that. sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we lived here, sorry about that scene at the bottom of the stairwell and how I ruined everything by saying it out loud. especially that, but I should have known.
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baseballtees · 2 years ago
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GOTHIC LITERATURE.
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bold what applies. italicize what sometimes applies. repost, don’t reblog.
i.   DRACULA.   cold to the touch. flickering candles. cold breath upon your neck. billowing white gowns.  midnight strolls.  pearl trimmed bands.  indulging in your deepest desires. the fall from grace.  the fear of outsiders.  bloodstained sheets.  dark imaginations.  something lurking in the shadows. the urge to run away. glowing eyes in the darkness.  the scent of garlic.  preying on the weak. the power to both bring and take life.
ii.   THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY.   old bookshelves. kisses on the hand.  devotion to the finer things in life.  prizing youth and beauty above all.  paying the ultimate price.  the pursuit of pleasure.  blood red sins painted over in white snow.  a drug-induced stupor.  breaking the heart of the one you love. losing what’s left of your humanity.
iii.   FRANKENSTEIN.   frantic sketches. the stench of something rotten. unorthodox beliefs. a scream from the woods.  candles burning out. dangerous knowledge. contemplating existence. the crunch of leaves. the chill of winter in your bones. dark ambitions.  prometheus reborn. the contrast between life and death.
iv.   THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO.   false accusations.  taking justice into your own hands. divine justice.  elaborate schemes. playing upon others’ weaknesses. the solitude of the ocean. an ever-changing identity.  dissatisfaction in your life. an alienation from humanity.  escaping from prison.
TAGGED: stole it from @mtchstck​ ! TAGGING: @perfectioness​, @buckleyup​, @buttonedblue​, @trueknotsleader​, @dctorsleep​, @locketheartfears​
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asthmasam · 3 months ago
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luveline · 2 months ago
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ive never done an ask before so sorry if i type it out wrong but could you do a eddie munson x reader where reader color's in eddie's tattoos i literally cannot stop thinking about it 😭 really just pure fluff and them goofing around
thank you for your request this is literally the sweetest idea ever! i didn't nail the goofing but he's a sweetheart and hot <3 0.9k
Eddie looks cute sitting in front of your desk in your soft backed chair. He's curious but careful as he picks over pen stands and coloured pencils. 
"Can I see some of your work?" he asks. 
You could kiss him right there for calling it 'work'. He's never once been dismissive about your art, though most everyone else in your life calls it a hobby or your 'little side job'. 
You stand up from the bed and move to his side. His arm wraps around your waist lightly, easy as you open the desk drawer for your current small sketchbook where you thumbnail paintings. 
"All my canvases are down in the garage," you say. 
"I'd love to see them." 
He opens your sketchbook with infinite care, arm quickly stolen from your skin. You hover anxiously by his side, waiting for his verdict. He's quiet as he turns each page, not patronising you in pretending that every single sketch is interesting, but an honest peruse of your talents. 
He stops on a drawing of him. Quite recent, you'd forgotten all about it. In his club shirt with the sleeves pushed up, a quick rendering of the planes and shadow of his arms, less detail but enough to make out his face through a curtain of curls. 
"Is it biased if I say this is the best one?" he asks, hands splayed over the page, face turned to you. He's grinning. 
"Very biased," you say. "I've messed up all your tattoos. You were moving too fast." 
He turns to the page and raises his eyebrows. "They look just fine to me." 
He's lying, of course. They're blurs of dark without detail. 
"You have to say that." 
"I don't have to do anything," he says. You shiver as his hand wraps around your back again, his touch featherlight. A ring scrapes your skin as he slips his fingers under the fabric of your t-shirt.
"If you'd only stay still," you whine. 
He tips his head back and pouts at you mockingly for a split-second before chuckling warmly. "You're tortured, bub." 
The pet name has your chest aflame with heat. You look at his shirt rather than his face, toying gently with one of his messy dark curls. "Whatever," you say, wanting to move on before he does something to tease you.
He pushes the chair back and encourages you into his lap. You sit tentatively on his leg, aware of every point of contiguity between you as his hand finds your soft tummy over your shirt. The other arm he lays flat on your desk.
"Take a look." 
You rub your face with your shoulder, unsure. Eddie squeezes you, reassuring. "Go on." 
Your relationship is new enough that you haven't seen every tattoo properly. You leap at the chance to study them. Despite your nervousness at this proximity you lean forward on his knees and take his arm into your hands. 
You like the first one over the smooth inner stretch of his forearm, it suits him, a demon of some sort puppeteered by a bony hand. Turning his arm over, you find his flock of bats tapering over his elbow. Familiar, you could likely draw them from memory. 
You're holding your breath as you turn in the circle of his arm, finger pushing carefully under his shirt sleeve to expose the scary bird/lizard amalgamation that you don't recognise, its frilled spines flared and its mouth open. 
"I like them," you say. 
He pulls you up his leg. "Yeah?" 
"Mm. Would you ever get something in colour?" 
"Sure, I'd love some colour. S'just expensive as shit, so…" 
He sounds embarrassed. It's not what you meant to do, and you rush to fix it with a spur of the moment thought. 
"Could I colour one?" 
"Could you?" he asks, voice low, laughing a laugh that's more breath than sound. 
You burn, shifting forward to take a marker into your hands. He keeps a good hold on your abdomen to keep you anchored. It's nice. 
You take a light red into your hands, slow and steady as you set it to his pale skin and fill in the majority of his demon. Then, with a slightly darker red, the midtones. You round it out with a dark purple in the shadows, giving the demon a more three dimensional feel. 
"Is it too cold?" you ask as you go, voice a murmur. 
Eddie rubs the tip of his nose against your shoulder. "It's fine." 
"You don't want to watch?"
"No way. Tell me when you're done, I want the full effect. Blow me away." 
You nod and flush with heat and finish up as the heat of his body soaks into yours, relaxing in his lap as time passes. 
"There," you say, capping a black fineliner. "I'm done, Eds." 
Eddie pushes his chin over your shoulder to take in what you've done. 
"Baby, that's fucking sick. Oh my god," he sounds sad, beggy, in that awful way boys do. "I want that for keeps." 
You smile because you're glad he likes it. You'd thought you'd done a pretty good job, too. 
"You have talented hands," he says into your ear, voice warped by a clear double entendre. 
You melt, a shiver coursing down your back as you lean towards him unthinkingly. 
"I'm not gonna shower. I need it forever." 
Spell quickly broken, you wrinkle your nose. "That's disgusting."
"That's punk rock, babe." 
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boxofbonesfic · 9 months ago
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Title: Anonymous 
Pairing: Soft Dark!Symbrock x Reader (Eddie x Reader x Venom)
Summary: On Halloween, people dress up as monsters. But sometimes, the monsters dress up as people, too.  
Warnings: Noncon, Yandere!Eddie/Venom, Obsessive behavior, Monsterfucking, Tentacle porn, Praise kink, Size kink if you squint, Choking, Overstimulation,
 A/N: happy halloween, my loves! let’s ring in the season with some primo monsterfucking. my alien boyfriends are all i can think about, so i really hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. as always, reblogs are super, super appreciated so that other people can see my work and enjoy it too! 
This is a work of FICTION, and it is DARK, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. This is a DARK fic. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! MINORS, DNI! 😘
👻
 The sheer sleeves of your borrowed I dream of Jeannie costume feel paper thin as you stand awkwardly in line with your coworkers. It’s uncharacteristically cold for October, and with the last vestiges of sunlight fading quickly, you know it’s going to get even colder. 
 You’d rather be at home, wrapped in your fuzziest blanket and slippers as you marathoned gory horror movies, but it appeared the closest you were going to get to that this Halloween was a costume party with people you prayed wouldn’t try to speak to you for longer than three minutes. 
 Katherine, the head of HR and the by and large the biggest pain in your ass, had gently encouraged everyone to attend for purposes of team building and community making. But unlike the majority of your fellow employees, you didn’t much fancy getting wasted with Joe from accounting just because it was on the company dime. 
  So here you were, freezing your ass off waiting to get inside the Haunted Mansion. You suppose to Katherine’s credit, she’d scouted a decent location for the party—the house is the very last on a dead end street, the dead trees around it stretching their branches up towards the darkened sky like bony fingers. It looks like it’s barely standing, and you wonder if it’s main appeal is seasonal events like this, because there’s no way anyone actually lives here. 
 An old looking velvet rope blocks the door, and you can hear your coworkers murmuring impatiently behind you. 
 “They said seven, right?” Asks Julie from behind you. She’s dressed as Minnie Mouse, and the cartoon whiskers she glued to her cheeks tremble as if she’s anxious. You nod, fishing your phone out of your purse to check the time. 
 6:59
 No sooner than she’s spoken, the door creaks open, revealing Katherine. Her cheesy vampire costume leaves a lot to be desired, and her coppery red hair is poking out rather obviously beneath the plastic-looking black wig. 
 “Velcome,” she says dramatically, and you roll your eyes, more determined than ever to leave after your mandatory hour is up. “Come in, come in!” 
 Movie marathon here I come. 
 She pulls aside the rope, and it’s the momentum of your eager coworkers that carries you inside rather than your own feet as they crowd in. The air is still and stale inside, and LED candles flicker on most of the surfaces. 
 “Our host has requested we stay downstairs,” Katherine adds, almost yelling to be heard over the music and the low murmur of conversation. It doesn’t take long for people to let loose, crowding around the drink table and onto the dance floor. 
 I guess one drink won’t hurt. 
 You wait until most of the other folks have cleared away before approaching. You pull a red solo cup from the plastic sleeve, perusing the fairly meager selection of liquor. You’re not much of a drinker, but you have a sneaking suspicion that the alcohol will make this cringe-y evening more bearable. You’re reaching for the cheap vodka when your elbow bumps someone else’s. 
 “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” 
 The man in the leather coat to your right waves off your apology. He’s unfamiliar—which in and of itself is strange, considering you know most of your department by sight. He’s handsome, his plump lips turned up into a small smile. 
 “Don’t worry about it. I kinda snuck up on you.” He gestures for you to grab the bottle first, which you do, before handing it off as you try to decide between off-brand Coca-cola and juice for your mixer. “Nice Jeannie,” he compliments, and your cheeks heat. 
 “No costume?” You ask, and he grins sheepishly.
 “Is it that noticeable? I was kind of hoping to get in, get out. Incognito.” The deep, raspy timbre of his voice is easy to hear over the early 2000’s era pop music. “I’m not really a big fan of these work parties.” 
 “I’m actually kind of jealous. I wasn’t brave enough to break the rules.” You reply, gesturing down at your own costume, which is essentially a crop top and hot-pants with flowy, sheer fabric attached to each limb. “Are you new? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” You take a sip of your drink, and try unsuccessfully to hide an amused snort as you watch Katherine drunkenly attempt to seduce one of the guys from the packing floor. 
 “Yeah, yeah I’m new. Just started, I’m Eddie.” He reaches his hand out to you, and you take it, shaking it before releasing it. You give him your own name, and a shudder runs down your spine as he licks his lips slowly, the syllables dripping from his tongue as he repeats it back to you. “Nice to meet you.”
 You drain your cup. “Nice to meet you too, Eddie.” 
 The liquor is burning hotly in your stomach as he gestures over at the chase lounge, a good vantage point to watch the antics of the other partygoers. It doesn’t take too long for the organized chaos of the company holiday party to downgrade to simple chaos, your mild mannered coworkers turning into stumbling, giggling, rambunctious idiots. 
 Eddie is easy enough to talk to, funny—though there’s a darker edge to his voice that makes you swallow thickly when you hear it. He seems nice enough, and you don’t understand the little warning bells that chime in the back of your skull every time his hand brushes against yours. You don’t understand why your stomach curls a little each time he smiles at you, his gaze resting heavily on yours. 
 Something’s wrong, that little animal part of you says as he scoots a little closer, the heat of his thigh pressing against yours through his jeans. Not right. Not right.
 “Another drink?” He asks, pointing to your empty cup. You hand it over readily, quieting the voice that tells you to accept nothing from him. 
 “Yeah, thanks.” 
 People seem to move out of his way like they sense him coming as he strides purposefully back through the crowd of drunkenly writhing bodies. When he returns, your cup is full almost to the brim, but when you take a cautious sip, you taste mostly cranberry juice. You drink deeper, and Eddie settles back in beside you. 
 “So, what’s life like for you outside the office?” He asks, cocking his head just so and smiling charmingly at you so that you know he’s really interested. You don’t mess around with your coworkers, it’s a staunch rule you’ve set for yourself, but the giddy warmth spreads in your chest regardless. 
 “Well, you know. Moved away from the family, took on the big city.” You make air quotes with your fingers, rolling your eyes. “I’m really not that interesting. I’m like, the queen of Netflix.” You reply, shrugging. 
 “What, no boyfriend?” 
 “Not worth the headache,” you laugh. “Going through the hassle of dating someone just to figure out you hate the way they chew.” 
 “Oh good, now I’m self conscious about how I chew,” Eddie jokes. 
 “Or worse, you get led on for a date and then after…” you make a disappearing motion with your hands. “Poof.”
 “I just can’t believe there’s no, you know… Mr. Netflix.” He rubs the back of his neck, and looks at you incredulously. Of course, it’s less that you can’t be bothered and more that you seem to have a habit of picking the worst partners, but you keep that to yourself. “I mean, you’re gorgeous.” He looks down at his hands and shakes his head. “Shit. I mean… Sorry. That’s… I shouldn’t have said that.” 
 It’s your turn to look away, your face heating as your head swims. 
 “Thanks… I—that’s nice of you to say.” 
 You’ve never really thought you were much to look at, and you want to squirm uncomfortably at his compliment just as much as you want to preen. You’re flattered and flustered. It feels good to get treated like the pretty girl, and you drink deeply from your cup again, chasing the stray droplets from your lips with your tongue. Eddie’s eyes follow the movement hungrily, something dark flashing across his gaze before it clears. 
 “It’s true. Geez, I think that’s all the liquor talking.” He pauses, almost like he’s listening, before continuing. “Actually, do you mind if I step out for a sec? Gonna find a bathroom.”
 “No, totally, of course.” 
 You knock back the rest of your drink to quell your nerves, and try to remind yourself that you’re just talking. Just having fun, hanging out—it doesn’t have to go anywhere.
  Eddie doesn’t come back, though. 
 You begin to wonder if maybe you bored him, or you were too introverted, or any number of things that you figure might be wrong with you that he’d managed to figure out. You’d overshared, maybe, made it awkward. You’re still stewing in self doubt when he comes back, tapping you on the shoulder. 
 “Hey,” you greet him nervously, playing with a loose strand of your hair. 
 “Hey. Geez, this place is huge.” He grins at you. “Have you done the haunted room yet? I think someone said there’s candy at the end.” Eddie laughs. It’s lame, but you’re drunk enough to want to try it. 
 “Candy? I’m in.” 
 You both share a chuckle at the glow in the dark streamers and cartoon ghost decorations, and you reach out a hand to bat gently at the fuzzy spider hanging from the ceiling in the hallway. It’s kitschy and fun, and you’re actually kind of glad you came, despite the voice you’re still blatantly ignoring telling you something’s wrong, wrong, wrong. The liquor helps too, stifling it until it’s nothing but a whisper. 
 “It’s up here,” he points towards the stairs, and you frown at him. 
 “We’re not supposed to go upstairs. The hosts said, I mean.” 
 “I think that was just Katherine trying to keep all the snickers for herself,” he jokes, and you laugh. “I just saw a bunch of people head up.”
 “Damn, they got snickers too? I thought for sure we’d be stuck with like… Almond Joy’s or something.” And it’s not like there’s a sign or anything… And Kathy does like Snickers…
 You follow Eddie up the creaky stairs, the noise of the party fading behind you. 
 Upstairs is in similar shape, the rug exuding little clouds of dust as you walk down the dark hallway. Most of the doors are closed, but the ones that are open reveal empty rooms, barren of furniture with the windows draped. You don’t hear anyone else, see anyone else, but you keep going, the thought flitting out of your head as quickly as it entered it. 
 “It’s up here somewhere… I think in here.” He opens one of the doors, and gestures for you to walk forward. It’s dark inside, and you look up at him questioningly as you step over the threshold. 
 “Eddie I don’t see anything—” The door slams shut behind you, and it takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. You can only barely see his outline, standing in front of the door. You huff, putting your hands on your hips. “Not funny, Eddie. Come on.” You take a step forward, only to have him push you back. 
 Your irritation at his prank turns to anger. 
 “Eddie, seriously. Come on, I’m not laughing, it’s not funny, I want to go back to the party.” You try again, only to be rebuffed once again. He stands there silently, and in the still darkness you can hear his steady breathing. 
 “I know, I think she’s lonely too, V.” 
 “Who are you talking to?” 
 “Sweet, yeah, she’s sweet.” He mutters, and finally, finally, your anger becomes fear. “I do have a costume, you know,” he says to you, and you swallow thickly. “You want to see?”
 The back of your neck prickles, and you take a shaky breath. 
 “E-Eddie—” The voice that answers you is deeper, almost like an animal growling. 
 “A sweet morsel indeed.”
 You scream, stumbling away from him as his silhouette grows impossibly larger. Wildly you search for another exit, whipping your head around. You don’t make it five steps before something impossibly long yet warm and distinctly alive wraps around your waist, yanking you backwards. You flail in the air for a terrifying second until you meet a wall of solid flesh with a thud.                                
 Hands, too large and ending in wicked claws skirt down your sides. 
 “Soft… morsel you’re so soft.” A terrified whimper escapes your lips. You look up slowly, and are met with a Glasgow smile of teeth, sharp and dripping with saliva. A long tongue snakes out, twisting in the air as it—he?—regards you. “Soft and all alone.”
 “P-please, E-Eddie—”
 “Venom. We’re Venom now.” Black tendrils, tentacles made up of the same strange polymorphic flesh caressed your skin, slithering beneath the sheer fabric covering most of your body. 
 “Please don’t kill me.” You can’t look away from his jagged smile and that long, pink tongue winds thoughtfully around his sharp teeth. 
 “Kill you? Oh no, niblet. I’m not going to kill you.” A large hand cups your jaw. “I want to make you feel good.” You recoil in his grip, fighting to get loose, but it’s useless. “You’re all by yourself, you said so.” His voice, Venom’s voice, is almost petulant. 
 The ink-dark tentacles tighten their grip on you, sliding up your thighs, kneading as they go. Your mind is reeling, there’s so much to process, the touch; the feel of him—of them holding you, your own powerlessness, and the sickly feeling blooming in your stomach as you realized all of these things at once. There was no fighting this monster, who loomed over you hungrily. 
 Only… the hunger was for something deeper than your flesh. 
 You whimper as he draws a sharp claw gently down the line of your throat, and it’s followed by the warm, slick press of his tongue. 
 “N-no,” your pathetic whine makes him chuckle. 
 “Don’t worry, morsel. We won’t leave you after.” His claws shred through the cheap, thin fabric of your costume, and the cloth flutters to the rotting floorboards like a dying moth. You’re paralyzed with fear, unable to look away rom the hungry, all consuming white of his eyes. Your bra is next, and for this, you’re glad you can’t seem to break his gaze as his hands travel appreciatively over your exposed skin. 
 The tendrils binding your wrists pull them up above your head, stretching until your tip-toes drag on the uneven flooring. Your heaving breasts are forced outward for his viewing pleasure, and finally, you’re brave enough to glance down with abject horror as his large thumb brush the hardened pebbles of your nipples. 
 “So pretty…” He cups your breasts, kneading them as the tips of his claws prick into your skin. Venom smooths his hands down your sides, over the curves of your hips. His tongue lolls out, sliding warmly between your breasts. You hate the flicker of enjoyment as it presses against the fatty curve of your vulva, and you return to yourself through the daze. 
 “HELP!” You scream, and you watch the creature before you wince in either pain or annoyance, you’re not sure. You inhale deeply to scream again, only something wet and wriggling is forced between your lips. Your stomach turns with disgust as you realize it’s his tongue, slimy and thick, wrapping around your own, muffling your cry into a displeased gurgle. You’re practically choking on it, the tip of it tickling the back of your throat as it surges forward. 
 You’re hazy again, air barely making it down your crowded throat as his tongue undulates in your mouth. It shouldn’t be making pulsing heat grow in your core. Embarrassing slickness stains the skin of your inner thighs, and as Venom withdraws the length of his tongue from your mouth, he grins wickedly, and you know he sees it. 
 “Did you like that, morsel?” He asks, squeezing the cheeks of your ass in his overlarge hands, kneading them and pulling them apart over and over. “I know you did… I can smell it.”  Venom’s hand curls around your thigh, his clawed thumb swiping through the sticky wetness there. You watch as he lifts it to his lips, wrapping his tongue around the digit to clean it thoroughly. 
 “Delicious.”
 “No, no, don’t—”
 But it’s too late, his fingers are already sliding easily through your slick folds, a low growl emanating from his massive chest as he circles your entrance with a thick finger. 
 “Yesss….” The heel of his palm grinds against your throbbing clit, and you keen and whine, thrashing in his grip. “Oh morsel, you’re ready, so ready…” Venom’s fingers are sickly, sweetly gentle; drawing pleasure from you as you huff through your teeth. He pulls away just enough for you to see the black liquid of his flesh part to reveal Eddie underneath. 
 “Want you so bad, sweetheart,” he pants, working his hand over the hardness of his cock. The tendrils hoist you higher, spreading your legs open as they wrap around your ankles. You’re suspended in midair, watching helplessly, unable to move or speak as Eddie steps between your thighs. “Don’t have to be lonely, don’t have to be alone, you can be ours.” There’s a bright desperation in his eyes that’s far more terrifying than Venom is. 
 The head of his cock pushes against your shamefully wet cunt, bumping your clit and sliding through your folds as an inhuman growl rips from his chest. Venom slides back over his skin, swallowing Eddie again as the thick, mushroomed head begins to stretch you open. 
 “Nnngh, God,” you pant, hating the way your body welcomes him in, the hungry walls of your pussy milking him as though you want him to sink in to the hilt. Hot pleasure licks at your flesh as he draws out and plunges back in with an embarrassing wet squelch. 
 “Tight, so tight, so good,” his claws dig into your hips as he pants, filling you to bursting with each hard thrust. You clench around him at his praise, and you hear a chorus of two voices as both Eddie and Venom groan loudly at the feel of you. “You take us so well, morsel.” You stare down the line of your own body with morbid fascination as he passes his hand over your belly, pressing down to feel himself move within you. 
 Venom’s saliva drips down onto your naked flesh as he pants above you, his tongue snaking up the side of your throat to press again at your lips. It worms between your taut muscles, and when you sputter, he shoves it deep into your mouth. He caresses your tongue in rhythm with his own hips, allowing you only the barest gasps for air as he fucks into you with his cock and his tongue. 
 Your head pulses and throbs from lack of oxygen, even as you fall headfirst into the rising tide of pleasure buoying your trembling frame. You’re faintly aware of the sound of Venom’s growls, the feel of his claws puncturing your fleshy hips—
 But most of all, you’re aware of the delicious way he seems to stretch you with each thrust, his cock dragging sinfully sweet against your walls. You’re convulsing, crying as he sends you hurtling towards unthinking bliss. He fills you until you’re sobbing, the wet meeting of your flesh only a dull roar in your ears. Your vision begins to gray around the edges, and Venom reaches between you to flick at your clit. 
 You can’t scream, can’t even see as your entire body jackknifes, wetness flowing out of you to soak his cock. You’re soaring, gasping and babbling while he splits you open. You’re not even trying to breathe around his tongue anymore as you float, your cunt pulsing around his cock. Venom’s tongue slides out from between your lips, and you gasp for air belatedly, your eyes rolling as he continues to fuck you. 
 Your inebriated brain buzzes back to full capacity, the pleasure going from all encompassing to overwhelming as your nerves sing with it. 
 “That’s it, morsel. Give us all of it, everything.” He growls, rutting into you.  He punches against your cervix with every thrust, and stars explode behind your eyes as he forces you towards another, higher peak. There are tendrils of Venom all around you, stroking your face your chin, cupping your breasts and rolling across your nipples, sliding between your lips to fuck your mouth in a crude imitation of his tongue before it. 
 “Perfect, just fucking perfect.” Your head is spinning, and you babble out feeble pleas for him to stop, weakly tugging at your bonds even as your pussy sucks him hungrily back in. 
 “P-please sto-op,” you whimper, the words jarred by the force of his thrusts. 
 “You’re so close morsel,” his words are a needy, desperate rasp. “Not when you’re going to make those pretty noises and get so nice and tight for us.” 
 “N-no, I can’t!” You wail, shaking your head as Venom leans over you. His tongue travels over your face. 
 “Yes you can, sweet morsel. You can, you will—”
 You shatter into a thousand tiny pieces around him, sobbing and flailing as white hot pleasure rolls over you again. You’re ashamed of the huge gush of slick that coats his cock as your body convulses, your mouth open in a silent scream. 
 There’s an answering wave of warmth inside of you as the man—the monster—holding you looses an unearthly scream. You moan miserably as he slips from your abused hole, lowering your climbs until you’re standing upright again. Your knees buckle under your own weight, and you almost crumple to the floorboards. 
 Eddie catches you, murmuring sweet nothings into your mussed hair, running his plump lips over your tearstained cheeks. 
 “Oh sweetheart. You’re tired, aren’t you?” He asks, his eyebrows creasing with genuine worry. You hate it, you hate the way he tenderly cups your chin. You wrap your arms around yourself and try to push him away, but his grip is just as strong as Venom’s.
 “Just leave me alone, you got what you wanted—”
 “Leave?” Eddie’s eyes lock onto yours as his hands tighten around your forearms. “No, no, we’re not leaving you.”
 “Please, I… I just want this to be over,” you mutter, hanging your head as angry, defeated tears begin to pool in your eyes. “I won’t… I won’t say anything to anyone at work, if you just—”
 He cuts you off with a sharp laugh. “Oh sweetheart. You didn’t really think I worked there, did you?” Eddie licks his lips, and you catch a glimpse of too sharp teeth. 
 “So… your place or mine?” 
fin
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I am no longer maintaining a taglist, friends! Please follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library​ for all updates and new works! 
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f0xesand0wls · 15 days ago
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richard siken lines that make me lose my fucking mind -
look at the light through the windowpane. that means it’s noon, that means we’re inconsolable.
can we love nature for what it really is: predatory? we do not walk through a passive landscape.
someone has to leave first. this is a very old story. there is no other version of this story.
tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.
i hope it’s love. i’m trying really hard to make it love.
there are many names in history but none of them are ours.
so it’s summer, so it’s suicide, so we’re helpless in sleep and struggling at the bottom of the pool.
what holds it together? glue. some kind of glue. the image remains as a body would. i turned the image over like a rock, but then the worms.
i clawed my way into the light but the light is just as scary. i’d rather quit. i’d rather be sad. it’s too much work.
the prayer of going nowhere going nowhere
words too small for any hope or promise, not really soothing, but soothing nonetheless.
and the eyes that remained eyes and not the doorways we had hoped for.
paint ghosts over everything, the sadness of everything.
we collide with place, which is another name for god, and limp away with a permanent injury.
but tell me you love this, tell me you’re not miserable.
to make something beautiful should be enough. it isn’t. it should be.
i prefer to blame others, it’s easier.
we’ve made a graveyard out of a bone white afternoon.
i made this place for you. a place for you to love me.
i wanted to explain myself to myself in an understandable way.
i want to tell you this story without having to confess anything.
i want to tell you this story without having to be in it.
sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we lived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell and how i ruined everything by saying it out loud.
we deduce backward into first causes - stone in the pond of things.
are you there, sweetheart? do you know me? is this microphone live?
you see, i take the parts that i remember and stitch them back together to make a creature that will do what i say or love me back.
every morning the same big and little words all spelling out desire, all spelling out you will be alone always and then you will die.
we clutch our bellies and roll on the floor… when i say this, it should mean laughter, not poison.
the dawn was breaking the bones of your heart like twigs.
a man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river but then he’s still left with the river. a man takes his sadness and throws it away but then he’s still left with his hands.
i will turn myself into a gun, because i’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own. i’ll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue.
as everything is a metaphor for itself.
something’s not right about what i’m doing but i’m still doing it - living in the worst parts, ruining myself.
if the window is over your heart, and it is painted shut, then we are breathing river water.
you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn’t do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore.
what is a ghost? something dead that seems to be alive. something dead that doesn’t know it’s dead.
you try to warn him, you tell him you will want to get inside him, and ruin him, but he doesn’t listen. you do this, you do. you take things you love and tear them apart.
do you love yourself? i don’t have to answer that. it should matter.
things happen all the time, things happen every minute that have nothing to do with us.
the boy on the bridge. the boy who always keeps me from jumping off the bridge. oh, the things we invent when we are scared and want to be rescued.
i am singing now while rome burns. we are all just trying to be holy.
the best part of spirituality is reverence. there are other parts. some people like to hear the sound of their own voice.
you are a fever i am learning to live with, and everything is happening at the wrong end of a very long tunnel.
you need it for the moment you need it, then you bless it.
there’s a black dog and there’s a white dog, depends on which you feed. depends on which damn dog you live with.
desire, like a monster, crawls up out of the lake.
there’s a niche in his chest where a heart would fit perfectly.
evidence of evil but not proof.
a hammer is a hammer when it hits the nail. a hammer is not a hammer when it’s sleeping. i woke up tired of being the hammer.
the maiden flees or prays, depending.
this is the testimony of the deer: solitude, the long corridors, love from a distance.
if it hurts, we’re doing it to ourselves.
cut me open and the light streams out. stitch me up and the light keeps streaming out between the stitches.
take the light inside you like a blessing, like a knee in the chest.
he knows that when you snap a mast it’s time to get a set of oars or learn to breathe underwater.
if you don’t believe in god or fate you still must believe in narrative.
two brothers: one of them wants to take you apart. two brothers: one of them wants to put you back together. it’s time to choose sides now. the stitches or the devouring mouth?
he took the gods and made them human.
is that too much to expect? that i would name the stars for you?
in the wrong light anyone can look like a darkness.
god is the space between two men and the devil is the space between two men.
i make up things that i would never say. i say them very quietly.
the body of life is a nightmare.
she existed enough to be painted. she could have been an idea, but that’s another kind of existing.
we have not touched the stars nor are we forgiven.
a gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.
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buoyant-breeze · 6 months ago
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hello!
this is my first time requesting but your hand hc's are so wholesome i'm literally crying 🙏
could you please do them with childe, itto and thoma too?
thank you!
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hand hcs [ pt. 3 ]
authors note ⊱  i love this hc set so yeah here u go <3 i added scara cuz im a simp
part one here --- [ kaeya, albedo, diluc ]
part two here --- [ xiao, zhongli, venti, kazuha ]
characters ⊱ childe, itto, thoma, scaramouche
warnings ⊱ none
rating ⊱ sfw
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childe
his hands are veiny; thick enough with muscle to show his hand strength, but slim enough to show his dexterity and precision
quick reflexes
fingers are thicker, especially at the end; he keeps his fingernails clipped as far down as they can, because they can get unruly, chipped, and broken from his busy and combative lifestyle
skin gets dry very easily, but he forgets to moisturize tbh
lots of freckles. l o t s
this image
soft amounts of ginger hair on his arms
has a few nearly-invisible scars all across his hands and wrists
however, has a nasty and very visible scar down his elbow and towards his wrist on his right arm
loves handholding
will grip your hand pretty tightly, likes to intertwine your fingers with his own (he also squeezes hard)
has a thing for sucking your fingers in his mouth (sorry)
a few stray ginger hairs can be found hiding near the freckled, pale skin of his knuckles
double-jointed (especially his thumbs)
cracks his hands a lot
inside of his palms are tough and thicker than the back of his hand; not quite calloused, but just enough where you can sense the skill and age and use to them
heavy-handed, he puts all of his weight into what he does; can lead to a few clumsy incidents
itto
thicker than a snickers (id apologize but i dont want to)
knuckles protrude to the extreme
his veins practically pop out, and you can visibly see his wrist and knuckles shift each time he moves or flexes any part of his hand
fingers are wide, thick, and struggle to hold tiny things like the back of your earrings, needles, or flower petals
always keeps his nails painted dark to hide the grit that gets underneath (and also he feels like it makes him edgy)
his tattoos, obviously
also very muscular, obviously
extremely, unfathomably warm to the touch; he feels like a furnace
gets a lot of dirt on his hands
handholding is not so much holding but more like him engulfing your entire hand in his own, to the point you fear you might not have one anymore
nips your fingertips playfully
likes leather or iron braces for his wrists; no practical usage, just looks and feels nice
there are indentations in his skin from said braces being on pretty much all the time
long fingernails
thoma
pretty average hands, with fingers just a little longer than usual
not particularly veiny, or portruding, or bony, or calloused, or even muscular; literally, just very plain, if a bit dainty
takes good care of his hands! he’s very good about hygiene, and he also puts on lotion, especially after using harsh cleaning products
generally wears gloves to help protect the skin, as well
he actually hates callouses, so on the off chance he actually developed any, he would end up removing them with deep exfoliation and scrubbing; he feels like they are a little unsightly, and it makes it uncomfortable when he rubs his hands together out of habit
dexterous with his fingers; can easily catch and maneuver things in his hands (i.e. coin from opening scene of meeting thoma)
wrists have a very visible vein line that goes down, other than that there is hardly anything
intertwines his fingers with yours and likes to swing your hands together
fingertips are a little colder, but his palms radiate heat
scaramouche
the palest hands you’ve ever seen i stg
extremely bony, his veins are very blue and very purple, and are visible mainly on the inside of his wrist (pulsepoint) and on the center of his backhand
long and dainty, rather small, but they look elegant and graceful
either paints his nails the darkest color he can find or bites all of his nails off, sometimes both
lots of scars on his fingers, very silvery and very pale, like lightning
these also exist on his wrists
prefers to hide the wrist scars, doesnt give a shit about the hand ones
his hands are not very strong at all
vein pops out a little on the inside of his arm/elbow
very expressive with his hands, he gestures a lot, especially when he talks; likes to rest them on his hips, or rub them along his temples when he has a headache
if you hold his hand, he’s holding them tight and he will not let go; you are letting go on his terms
his hands are nearly freezing everytime you touch them (his body temperature in general is pretty cold; he probably has poor circulation)
that said will leech ur body heat, and this often includes stuffing ur connected hands into his pockets when walking with you, or just holding them while cuddilng with you
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jewels2876 · 2 months ago
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Not Yet
Day 2 of the HBC SPring Fling - the Prompt is Puppy Love so how could I not use Steve?? Thank you @the-ce-horniest-book-club​ 💙
Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader
Word count: 230
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He wondered how much longer he could stare at you before you would catch him. The stopwatch on his digital watch counted along as Tony’s speech dragged. Your eyes suddenly flitted over to his seat; he pressed pause on his watch, offering you a shy grin in return. You smiled back before turning your attention back to Tony.
“Have you asked her yet?” 
“Not yet,” he whispered through gritted teeth. “Now stop it before…”
“Romanov, have anything to add?” Tony quirked an eyebrow up.
“Nope, I think we’re done here.”
 Tony nodded and gathered up his coat and glasses, muttering under his breath as everyone stood. Steve watched as you yawned and raised your arms over your head, causing your scoop-necked grey t-shirt to stretch over your chest. Nat elbowed Steve. “Ow.”
You stopped stretching to look at Steve. “Sorry did you say something?”
“Nah.” His cheeks pinked under your sudden scrutiny. “Nat’s elbows are really bony.”
You chuckled and picked up your files still laying on the table. “You take care there, Steve. See ya around?” He watched as you walked out, the natural sway of your ass hypnotizing him until another elbow poked him in the ribs.
“Jesus Nat!”
“Wasn’t her,” Bucky grinned. “WIll ya ask her out already? You look like a lost puppy right now. Do something about it!”
Steve rubbed his side. “Maybe I will.”
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sorryforthebonyelbows · 5 months ago
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Kate Clayborn, Love Lettering
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Charles Dickens, Great Expectations
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V. E. Schwab, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue
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Neil Gaiman
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Anne Sexton, The Sermon of Twelve Acknowledgements
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squidwen · 10 months ago
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🐺♥️Guardian Angels Classmates🍎♠️⚡️
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Requested by @hanafubukki
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Summary: After spilling a potion onto the uniform of a Pomefiore student, you just signed your death warrant.
Cornered and beaten, he and his Savanaclaw cronies show no signs of showing you any mercy. But when help does arrive, is it enough to save you?
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The walls were cold in the corner you’d been backed into. You felt so terrified, so helpless, so panicked. Every cell in your body ignited with adrenaline and screamed for you to run, but you couldn’t. Frozen to the spot was your body, your mind silently pleading for this all to just stop.
“Il me semble que notre souris a peur,” said the Pomefiore student. The two beastman Savanaclaws behind him snickered. You were by no means fluent in French, but you did know that ‘souris’ meant ‘mouse’ and your nerves spiked; the sharp canines of your company making you feel minuscule.
“Look,” you said, trying to keep your voice level, “I’m sorry for spilling that potion onto your uniform. Someone knocked my elbow, which made me drop the test tube rack and-“
The Pomefiore pinched your lips closed.
“P’rhaps this runt don’t yet know how things work ‘round here?” said a Savanaclaw.
“It’s one thing to have no magic,” said the other, “but another thing to have no manners.”
Suddenly, pain burst from your abdomen and you doubled over. “I couldn’t have phrased it better myself.” The Pomefiore had kneed you in the stomach. Colours seemed to lose their clarity as the taste of blood and bile rose in your throat. “Who do you think you are?” He kneed you again. “Coming to our world, our school, trying to learn our ways? You have no class, no style. You make us look weak.”
The Savanaclaws drew closer, cracking their knuckles. “Yeah. We can’t have runts like you making us look bad. Not when RSA remains undefeated for ninety-nine years.”
As low as it was, you wanted to beg them to stop. Two blows were all it took to fill you with so much agony you felt ill. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take much more, but the men didn’t seem content on stopping. The Pomefiore’s bony kneecap kept you pinned to the wall at a perfect angle for him to bring his fist down onto your back.
But the blow never came.
The student was thrown back, a wailing blur of indigo and white, as you crumpled to the floor, gripping your sides. Breathing was a challenge. Air didn’t seem to want to enter your lungs no matter how many times you opened and closed your mouth.
“Nicely done, Epel!” said a familiar voice. You tried to crane your neck up to see who it was, but a pair of hands – no, two pairs of hands – gripped your arms and hoisted you up roughly. You grunted with pain. The Savanaclaws’ held you between them. You felt a degree of satisfaction seeing their eyes so wild with shock, but twice as much relief at seeing who was in front of you.
Ace and Deuce were standing side by side, their magic pens at the ready. Epel was behind them, pointing his own pen at his fellow Pomefiore.
“How dare you raise a hand to me, Felmier!” he shrieked, ogling his creased uniform. “When I tell Monsieur Schoenheit-“
“He ain’t gonna be too pleased t’hear ye’ve been bullyin’ people,” spat Epel, slipping back into his country tongue. “Ain’t mighty graceful of ya.”
The Pomefiore pursed his lips, but there was something in how his body went rigid that communicated his defeat.
Meanwhile, Ace and Deuce hadn’t flinched. “Take your hands off (Y/N),” Ace said sternly.
The Savanaclaws only grinned. They had made you their shield. Still holding on tight to your arms, they grabbed the nape of your neck and throat, ensnaring you in a collar of fingers. “Try anything and we do some real damage-”
“You wouldn’t know real damage if it punched you in the ribs,” said a voice from behind you.
Suddenly, the Savanaclaws went staggering forwards, clutching their torsos tightly with pained expressions.
“Or maybe you would?”
You had recovered enough from the Pomefiore’s attack to stay standing, but Jack, built like a bulldozer, almost knocked you over as he leapt from the shadows. Despite it being two to one, he easily defended himself against the smaller beastmen. A few further blows to the chest and stomach and the pair of them fled, tails between their legs, dragging their Pomefiore comrade behind them.
Once their footsteps had receded into nothing, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. That was until Sebek burst from around the corner, yelling his head off.
“Human!” he cried. “Trust you to get yourself into a fix while I’m on duty!” He had a roll of bandages clenched in his fist. Upon seeing you standing on your own two feet, he ground to a halt and clenched his teeth. “And for what? You seem fine!”
“No thanks to you, cabbage,” said Ace.
“You missed all the fun,” added Deuce.
Jack turned to you and eyed you up and down. You didn’t have a speck of blood on you, but he could tell from how you were slightly hunched over that you had sustained a blow to the midsection. “Does it hurt if I press here?” he asked, prodding your lower ribs gently.
“Yes!” you seethed.
He hummed to himself thoughtfully. “It could be a broken rib.”
“A broken rib!” exclaimed Sebek. “From a twig like that student! I’ve fought in many sparring tournaments with opponents far stronger than him and barely got a bruise.”
“That’s because yer half fae, Sebek,” sighed Epel. “Ya heal faster and’re sturdier than us. And besides, this ain’t about you.”
They all turned to you. Your forehead creased with discomfort as Jack hooked his hand under your back and hoisted you into his arms. However, you were relieved to not have to walk to the infirmary, and Jack’s strides were long and steady. You hardly felt any pain at all.
“What was their problem anyway?”asked Deuce. He still had a hold of his magic pen. “When you didn’t show up for a study session in the library we got worried. Never would have imagined you’d be in a situation like that. Good thing we all came to look for you.”
“I accidentally spilt a potion on the Pomefiore’s uniform,” you said. “And I suppose the… ‘usual problems’, too.”
“Usual problems?” asked Epel.
You bit your lip. Why did you say that? You didn’t want to tell these guys you had once again been victimised for your magiclessness. Appearing weak was never something you wanted to do, especially before your friends whom you wanted to make a good impression on. You were already physically wounded, even a bit emotionally; you didn’t want your pride to be damaged either.
Your face must have told a thousand stories because Ace nudged your shoulder. “Spill, prefect. Now.”
“Oh, I don’t know!” Your exclamation sent pain rocketing through your chest, making you wince. “I just…I don’t know why people are so bent on shaming me for being magicless.”
“Simple,” said Sebek. “It’s a sign of weakness, lack of potential, and-“
“Sebek!” snapped Epel.
Deuce sighed, a sympathetic smile on his face. “In all honesty, I think it’s jealousy more than anything else.”
“Who’d be jealous of having no magic?” you asked.
“What I mean is, some people had to work for years to get into this school, and all you did was show up.”
“True,” added Ace. “But I’d say the deeds you do for Crowley make you earn your place here. Besides, why should you have to use magic when you have us five to use it for you whenever there’s trouble?”
“Trappola is correct,” said Sebek. “Although I prefer to use my magic to serve the young master, I am indeed now bound by my duty as your friend to protect you.”
Seeing the five of them all dote on you like this made your heart swell. It reminded you of the sleepover (click link) you had shared, how they had pledged themselves to watch over you like brothers for the duration of your stay in Twisted Wonderland. You couldn’t deny your first-year posse was beginning to feel a bit like a family, and you resolved that regardless of how harsh others treated you, you would always have these five to fall back on.
“Hey, Epel,” said Ace, a mischievous glint in his eye. “If that Pomefiore is so precious about his clothes getting ruined, how about mixing up the Dorm laundry so that his shirts get put in with the red jumpers your mum made us all for Christmas?”
“My mum poured her heart and soul into those jumpers!” said Epel.
“Oh come on! He so deserves it.”
Epel smirked. “I didn’t say no.”
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Author note: Thank you for reading x please do send in asks/requests for what I should do next. I always love inspiration.
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steelycunt · 4 months ago
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Number 3 for the mini fic if you’re interested!
hi! sooo sorry anon i fucking SUCK but i am finishing these now!! and to make up for it this accidentally became over 1k long, so!! here u are im sorry im sorry <3
3. things you said too quietly
“Right!” Marlene calls. Her sing-song voice tumbles in from the living room, splitting through a shimmering haze of cigarette smoke and sweet, liquor-soaked breath: “Not long now, everyone!”
A swell of glittering, slurred cheers rear up to meet her, previously scattered conversations mingling into one, toothy roar of noise. “NINETEEN SEVENTY-FUCKIN’-NINE!” somebody else shrieks back. Everybody sounds strangled, strangely desperate; you’d think the world was ending at midnight, fireworks biting at the sky like asteroids.
Bottles of spirits clutter the kitchen countertops, half-full and garishly colourful. They remind Sirius of a menagerie of exotic birds, though that might just be because he’s vaguely drunk, himself. Either way, he grins, nudges his elbow into Remus’ side. Bony, scrawny thing he is.
“Hear that, Moons?” he drawls. “Nineteen seventy-fuckin’-nine.”
Remus smiles, lopsided. A scabbed-over scar on his cheek is warped by the pit of his dimple. “Mm, quite. I’m impressed that anyone’s still sober enough to keep track.”
Elsewhere, as though in rebuttal, Gudbuy T’Jane is cranked up to ever more obnoxious levels. Remus’ lovely, large nose screws up a little, and—maybe Sirius is more than vaguely drunk, actually, considering the sharp, crackling lurch in his stomach. He wets his lips. I say, Slade yell hoarsely, you’re so young! You’re so young!
Sirius flicks his hair back. When he tips his head back down, the kitchen appears slightly skewed. His mouth feels tacky, gritty with sugar. He asks Remus, “any predictions for the year, then?”
A girl wearing green platform heels stumbles into the kitchen. She snatches up a tall bottle of vivid blue something-or-other, her iridescent nail polish flashing, and then marches back into the sweaty buzz of Marlene and Dorcas’ living room with all the determination of a soldier returning to battle.
They both watch her leave, and then Remus looks back at him, considering his earlier question. “Well. Judging from the strikes,” he says, “I predict that the muggles might get rid of Callaghan, actually.”
“Ah, right.” Sirius nods. “Yeah, that was my fault, I should’ve clarified—I meant, you know, do you have any predictions about things that are interesting, Moons?”
Remus rolls his eyes: “not all of us only read newspapers for the crossword, Padfoot. Did you know? There’s this whole section, see—after the nice shapes and colours—where people write all about the current goings-on—the news, if you will—”
“Oh, fuck, alright. Alright, you prick.” Sirius shakes his head, feigning exasperation. “How about—I predict that you’ll still be an intolerable git in seventy-nine, hm?”
Remus shrugs, folds his arms over his dubiously orange jumper (tonight, he’s paired it with faded stone-grey corduroys; is there any chance at all, Moons, Sirius had teased, that your new year’s resolution is to burn the contents of your wardrobe?). “The odds do look good,” he admits.
They both snicker quietly at that, arms pressed against each other as they stand side by side. Sirius flicks his tongue over his lip ring. There’s a smear of glitter beneath Remus’ ear, left over from hugging Lily at the start of the night. It looks entirely absurd, there, against his freckles and his wool and his dusty brown curls.
If the world really were ending, Sirius thinks, he’d probably still want to be here, right now, in the kitchen.
Wordlessly, Remus bumps his hand against Sirius’, fingers fumbling clumsily over his palm. In seventh year, Sirius’ Muggle Studies professor explained what a good conductor of electricity the human body is—something to do with water content, or whatever it was. Point is, in this moment, Sirius is quite sure he believes it, is quite sure he can feel the current climbing frantically up the length of his arm.
Remus shifts so that they’re facing each other, though his eyes stay fixed somewhere around Sirius’ bare collarbone, blinking quickly. Sirius frowns, catches himself, which is strange, since he hadn’t tripped in the first place. In the living room, the party shouts, “five!”
“Listen, Sirius, I need to—” Remus’ voice is very close. He swallows, and his throat jerks. The sterile, glaring kitchen lights make him look delicate, and jittery; they press bleach-white fingers into the sides of Sirius’ skull, prodding around for the start of a headache. “Four!”
The sight of Remus like this, so obviously, inexplicably nervous, is probably the only thing in the world that’d give Sirius the confidence to take his hand properly, squeeze it. “You alright, Remus?”
“Three!”
And Remus mumbles, “yeah,”, but he’s tapping his thumb erratically against the jutting bone of Sirius’ wrist, “yeah, I just—shit—don’t know why I thought this was—”
“Two!”
“—A good idea, but I s’pose I’m saying it now, so—”
“One!”
“—Sirius, I think I’m in lo—”
“HAPPY NEW YEAR, YOU TOSSERS!”
Just like that: the rest of Remus’ confession—whatever it is, whatever Sirius is desperate to believe it was going to be—is trampled by James’ shout; he barrels into Sirius, brakes cut, elbow sending a bottle of Advocaat hurtling towards the linoleum. Remus jumps backwards to avoid the wreckage—either the yellow puddle of glass shards and liqueur, or the tangled, eight-limbed, six-eyed Potter-Black monster—and has to wrench his hand from Sirius’ grasp in the process.
“Happy New Year!” James cries again, just to drive the message home. His eyes are bright and wide beneath his smudged lenses, gleefully oblivious to the Advocaat spattered thickly up the kitchen cabinets. He jostles Sirius, arm hurled around his shoulders. “Seven—seventy-nine, boys! Right fuckin’ on, hey! Hey!”
“Steady on, Prongs, you pillock.” Sirius steers James away, propping him up against the fridge as he hums a loud, loose rendition of Auld Lang Syne to himself. “Oh, thank fuck Evans’ is the one who’s got to sort you out now…”
“I ought to go and find her,” Remus agrees. In the chaos of James’ entrance, Sirius had forgotten what he’d interrupted, until now. He spins wildly as Remus weaves his way towards the doorway, slouching. His head is lowered.
Abandoning James, Sirius starts after him: “Moons, no, wait! Hang on, you didn’t—” he snags the sleeve of Remus’ jumper, tugs. Remus’ cheeks are pink, though he’s barely had anything to drink at all.
“Hang on, you didn’t, uh…I didn’t hear that last part. I didn’t—what were you about to say, before?”
“Huh?” Remus rubs a hand over the back of his neck, his gaze still evasive. “Oh—you didn’t…you didn’t hear,” he repeats, quiet, seemingly more to himself. His face relaxes. “You didn’t hear. Er, it was—nothing.”
Behind them, James stops humming in order to make a wet retching sound. Sirius does not dare turn around to look. Remus smiles: it’s weak, and there’s no dimple this time.
“It was just—Happy New Year, Sirius,” he says softly. “That’s…that’s all I wanted to say.”
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zuffer-weird-girl · 17 days ago
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*plays the organ like a maniac* is HERE *maniacal laughter
A/n: IM GOING TO BE VERY ESPECIFIC ON THIS ONE AND I hope you all read very carefully
This fic will contain mental and physical abuse towards the reader and Eri, blood, violence, abuse towards reader and Eri, poor and fool language, poor conditions of living, forced pregnancy, Overhaul is a massive crazy mother fucking sociopath very uncaring individual
Some way this is actually a Overhaul x reader but not really? Is dub/con.
This piece is not lovey dovey like others I did it, so please pay attention to the warnings and if you're a minor kindly get the hell out of here. Please.
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"So I was like 'WHAT THE HELL YURI?!' And I-....(L/n)-chan?" You hummed at your colleague while you made sure all of your documents were in order for your near job interview "You didn't even listened to me at all did you?" She deadpanned at you as you finally looked at then.
"I'm sorry." You gave a tiny false smile at them"I'm just anxious."
"Do you still think you can get a job on that hero agency? Come on." She puffed while lighting up her cigarette "You're quirkless. What use can you do on their agency? Bet you will bust serving coffee for others like usual." She smiled devilish as you glared at her before taking your things and getting out of the cafeteria.
"Is better try to be something useful than listening to you shit talking about your husband. Poor guy I swear." You rolled your eyes listening to her screams and some other employees of the place hold her while you walked away.
Breathing out a sigh of relief, you grabbed your cellphone and checked twice the address while biting your bottom lip out of nervousness.
"Trying won't cost my life but maybe my dignity..." You sighed in almost defeat "what will they say? Oh you can clean the bathrooms? Oh sorry we have someone with a quirk to do that already."
Shaking your head you started to walk a bit faster..
.
Someone! Anyone! PLEASE!
.
"And that's why I think that I shoul-OUCH!" You flinched at the weight suddenly bumping into your right and making your curriculum drop from your hand and fall into the ground along with you on your knees "Hey! What giv-!" you were about to cuss someone out until you saw a trembling white haired girl who looked at you with the most frightening look you had ever seem on your life.
"Oh. I'm so sorry." You murmured, about to help her until she flinched away from you, violently, making you retreat your hand just as fast. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there, you're okay?" You whispered gently and offering your hand once again as she trembled took it and let you help her up.
"Are you lost?" She looked at the ground "Are... your parents nearby? I can help." Your eyes darkened at noticing the inumerous bandages around both her arms and legs "My God are you okay?!" You kneeled again on the ground and hold onto her fragile and bony elbows delicately as you checked her over as she seemed in lost on how you were acting towards her.
"Look at you, poor girl..." You murmured before letting go of her hesitantly "I'm sorry, what's your name sweetie? Maybe I can help?" You begged mentally for her to open her mouth at least.
"I-I... I-I... sorry..." She sounded like she was about to cry until you noticed that she hurriedly took a few steps and grabbed your curriculum and handed it over to you with shaky hands
"No no no!" You shake your hands at her gesture "This is not important right now, I just want to help you okay? Maybe even be friends?"
"F... Fri..ends?" She murmured while you nodded "Wha.. what is that?"
Oh fuck. Your heart broke.
"O-oh. You know? Someone you can trust on? Help you, Tell things, play games..." You spoke with pain in your heart as the little girl mourned over your words while clenching a bit on the paper.
"Yo.. you're nice..." You smiled at her attitude as you giggled a bit to ease the tense atmosphere.
"You are nice too. Can I know your name? Mine is (L/n) (Y/n), but if you prefer you can just call me by my first name. I won't mind."
She seemed about to speak until a much deeper, darker and masculine voice took over the atmosphere. Making the girl freeze and a shiver run down your spine.
"How many times do I have to tell you to not cause trouble for others?" Immediatly you stood up to be in front of the girl until your breath hitched.
Before you. There stood a man, dark brown hair, piercing amber eyes that made you want to open open a whole on the ground and hide and the most confused yet frightening thing about him was the plague mask he carried on his face. You stood your ground and started to glare at him at seeing the girl besides you was now clenching on your clothes at the sign of this guy.
"Forgive me for my daughter miss. She likes to play around a lot and results on getting hurt like this." You couldn't see, but by the way his eyes moved you could imagine he was forcing a small chuckle "You have no idea how much first aid kits I have to buy for her."
"Daughter?" You mumbled before looking at the girl again... they seemed nothing alike, and she also seemed to fear this man to death. "Forgive me to say this, but she looks scared... Can.. Can you even prove she is your daughter?" You gulped at the way his eyes blinked slowly.
"She likes to play the victim. Just because I give her a scolding she acts out like this." He sighed "And why would I need to prove that?"
"Be-Because-!" You breathed in "Is only normal for someone to worry for a child that is running without no one and looks like she saw the damn buggyman." The girl looked ar you in shock as she clenched on you for support.
"As I said. She is only acting out. Is getting difficult to raise a kid those days." He hissed as you only glared back at him before he sighed, making a "come over" signal with his gloved hand "BUT if you insist, I can show you even my house and her documents providing that I am her father."
"That would be great." You nodded at him before picking the girl up and holding her close as you followed him.
"But out of curiosity," he glanced back at you as you walked "Don't you even have another place to be? You look way too formal for a simple walk on the park." He mumbled nonchantly as you mentally cried about your lost interview.
"Is nothing important. It can wait."
"Eri is just as stubborn as you seem to be." You arched an eyebrow at seeing him subtly take a inch of his gloves off and that action was enough for the girl to gasp in horror and jump from your arms and run towards him.
"W-Wait!" You whispered quietly as she got to him with a defeated expression.
"Oh? Already done with your tantrum? And you even stole something from this lady. Naughty girl." He growled the last two words as you made your best to not tremble in fear at this as he yanked the papers out of the girl's grasp and read them... a few seconds passed and his monotonous cold eyes suddenly turned wide in shock before turning back to normal to look at you.
"It seems that this holds false information about you. It says that you have no possession of a quirk." He shaked a bit the papers before you marched over to him and took it away from him.
"I am quirklesa mister." You hissed "And you can try to insult me but trust me, I listened to ever possible thing."
"Actually I was gonna say this quite intriguing."
...
"Eh?"
The man only stared back at you as you tried to process what he was talking about.
"Either way-" you shook your head "Back to the point. She went with you, but that doesn't prove that you are her father, or even if she wants to be with you."
He glared at you for a second before turning his gaze to the girl beside him.
Your eyes widened at seeing she trembly give a responde.
"H-He.. he is miss. I.. I just broke a vase and ran away."
"Then why are you dressed like this? No shoes even. Doesn't your..." You looked at him for a second "dad buy them for you?"
"He-He... uh.."
"Shy as always." The man interrupted "You see, I buy all kinds of toys and clothes, but she rather stay with those, and she also throws a tantrum if I try to put shoes on her. Is quite a hassle." There goes that fake chuckle again as you bited your lips.
"I saw that you were going to an job interview by seeing these curriculum of yours. Forgive me and my daughter for this inconvenience."
"Uh... no problem. I was just really worried about her." You stared at him as he seemed only curious about how you stood your ground against him.
"You certainly are someone whose doesn't fear to speak what you want."
"Not when I see something wrong about it." You spoke before crouching down in front of Eri and your face softened as you talked to her. "Eri-chan, I meant it I would love to be your friend and talk more! If you want to I will be around the area if you need me ok?" You went to hug her and whispered very quietly in her ears "blink twice if you want to go with me instead of him."
She widened her eyes as soon as you let go of her and seemed to almost dive back into your embrace until the man spoke again.
"She seems to like you." You looked up at him and he hold a different expression that you couldn't exactly tell what it was "She doesn't usually get so out of her shell like these. You must be quite especial with kids."
"Oh.. uh.. " this dude left you speechless as he let out a what seemed more genuine chuckle.
"What about this? My... employees drive you to your destination, than later we can... chat. I feel like I caused a wrong impression about myself."
Something about this screamed danger in your head, but you didn't want it another lost chance of getting out of that God forbidden cafeteria but also didn't wanted to leave Eri alone.
"If... if wouldn't cause much trouble.. I would like that." The girl seemed in shock at hearing the man's words. You could see a tint bit of... hope, joy even in her eyes.
"Well, I will contact them. When is your interview again?"
.
.
.
You left with disappointment of the building but at least was happy when the hero eraserhead saw your expression and offered a cup of coffee.
What the hell were you expecting? This was freacking Endeavour agency...
"(Y/n)-chan?" You violently lifted your head up and saw the girl looking at you in equal shock before running over to you "(Y/n)-chan!" You threw the cup on the trash nearby and crouched down with a smile
"Hey you! So you really came!" She nodded until a cough caught both of your attention.
"I'm not usually a man to break my word." You blinked before standing up.
"I can see that now." Eri hesitantly clenched on your clothes again.
"I apologize, I didn't know you were going to work... here." He displayed disgust as you sighed in defeat.
"No. Apparently they don't see the value of a quirkless person working for the number kne hero agency so-" you chuckled humorless "Another failed attempt."
"Is that so? Can I offer you something to make up for this then?"
"Oh no need. I'm just glad to see Eri again to be honest." You smiled down at her as she made her self small enough to hide on you "By the way. What's your name sir? We didn't introduce ourselves yet."
"Overhaul. And you are (L/n) (Y/n) according to Eri." He sended a look at her "Is impolite to call someone by their first name if you don't know them well."
"Is okay. I offered her to do it. Is not a big deal. Right? Eri-chan?" She looked up at you like you were an angel as you patted her head.
"You sure are a unique one (L/n). Quirkless and good with children." You looked back at him "What else a man could ask for?"
You didn't want it to. Really. But his comment made you blush.
"Well, me and Eri need to go back home. But I would actually enjoy to see you again, and I bet Eri would as well. Maybe even tone down a bit her bratty attitude."
You looked at the girl and she was no longer trembling like a leaf at Overhaul mentioning for her to go with him so your worries toned just a bit down.
"Well.. I work in a cafeteria nearby so...you two can visit at anytime."
His eyes darkened but you didn't noticed that as Eri asked quietly to you whT was a cafeteria as you gently explained it to her.
"That would be splendid."
.
After months, you would constantly see Overhaul and Eri come to where you worked at. And each day you saw that Eri was actually ... better? She seemed more healthy and even wore proper clothes and shoes but still wouldn't open a smile, but in her eyes you could see how she longed to see you and seemed to enter in a depressed state as the two left.
Somehow... you got close with Overhaul. The way he spoke, the way he idolized you for being unique and for your quirkless left you unarmed...
You two started to become closer until one day when you three were at the table he dropped something. And you didn't know why, but you thought you had fallen for him. A crush you guessed.
"Would you consider marrying me?" You coughed and spit your tea making Eri go wide eye and almost tear up as she cried out your name.
"Pardon? What?" You asked in shock as he merely looked back at you.
"I can see the way your colleagues make fun of you for never having any experience on a relationship and that surely irritates me a bit but relieves me at the same time." He sighed "We both get along and my daughter seems to enjoy your company, and since her mother ran away you would be a perfect example of what she should be in the future. I am a man which also gets made fun of for not having any experience, but thats because no one caught my eye like you did (Y/n)-San. And getting married with a business man like myself would increase your rank, and I would give you financial stability."
"That sounds like a sugar daddy Chisaki." You dead panned as Eri made a confused sound as he let out a dry chuckle.
"No no. Is more about your rank than giving you money. And I can catch glimpses of your attraction towards me. Is mutual dearest." Your face exploded at his words.
"Is this flirting?" Eri whispered to you as you gagged
"You don't need to answer right away. Is knly a suggestion. We can just pretend we are a couple. For both ours and my daughter sake. Everyone knows how kids can be cruel when someone doesn't have two parents present." He got up and mentioned for Eri to follow him which she sadly did.
"I will give you time to consider."
You stood there, sitted in the cafeteria, with a half bitten donut and a table with spilled coffee on it which surely you would have to clean up later, wondering about his proposal and words.
.
.
"T-The... yakusa ...." You mumbled in fear as you stood in front of the gate.
You had accepted and talked about it with Chisaki the next time he went to visit you. Eri wasn't present and he gave you a diamond ring ti wear it right there, causing your colleagues to both equal and bite themselves out of envy.
"I forgot to mention about that?" You looked at him and nodded "I apologize."
The house was big and in a traditional Japanese style you found very pleasant to look at. You were taking things out of your boxes until you notice a man leading Eri to you.
The girl, which you knew already for about 8 months smiled. Opened a huge smile at seeing you and teared up.
"(Y/n)-chan!" She threw herself at you as you hugged her close
"Eri!" You crouched down, smiling ear to ear, "You look so great! And you are smiling!"
"I am?" She tilted her head a bit as you giggled and hugged her close again.
A cough interrupted you as you looked up at a another man with a black plague mask and a white hoodie covering his head as Chisaki appeared behind him.
"This is Chronostasis. He is a subordinate of mine who will help you at any time." You nodded as Eri stood beside you.
"Chisaki-kun? W-What about where we will sleep?"
"In different rooms of course." He dead panned as you were in doubt if you felt relief or disappointment .
For a few weeks everything seemed normal and you were starting to like when people on the streets called you a cute family...
But things started to change a few months after you "married" Overhaul.
.
.
.
Walking on the corridors you searched for Eri everyday and asked for everyone that crossed your for the girl. You hadn't see her in two days and you were starting to get worried sick. Every time you would ask Overhaul or Chrono they would only glared at you and say that she was studying.
She was too young to study....
Overhaul was also different. He would only change a few words with you, order about how cleaning and cooking should be done and let you be.
When the night came, and the lights of the house were off you decided that enough was enough. You tip toe and made your best to not make a sound and soon spotted Chrono and Overhaul talking before opening a secret entrance. You were in shock but still didn't dare to speak.
You waited a few seconds for later to see the secret door. It led you to a pack of stairs to a subsolo area .. you gulped down your fear and got down to an area that was cold and all white... reminding you even of hall's of hospitals that gave you chills.
You flinched when you heard screams. Childish screams, girl screams. Your girl screams.
Eri.
Your heart stopped as you started to run towards the sound and froze at seeing the horror displayed in front of you.
Overhaul, was literally breaking apart Eri's body into freacking atoms and replacing it back as she was tied to a chair as the other male, Chrono took the blood of her junto tiny capsules as you put your hands on your mouth to prevent a scream. In your state of fear you decided to hide behind a wall until it was safe to come out.
"This should be enough for today." You shivered at hearing the emotionless and numb tone of voice of your supposed husband.
"Overhaul, your spouse was asking about the girl once again. Maybe it would be better if at least let her see Eri?" You never heard Chrono's voice...
"She can try but it will not happen. I will make her forget about Eri existence. I know the area of the brain which holds memories. I can just overhaul it."
You started to cry.
"Although she can go to the police" You heard the exiting the room and walking away as you tried to keep your breath steady "After all, when you met (Y/n) she almost did that."
"Again. She has no choice. I know basically every little step that woman takes, and by far, she has nk way of escaping this place. (Y/N) is on the palm of my hand. Although to remain the status and appearances, she needs to learn a lot until she becomes the perfect model of a yakuza's wife."
"Certainly. But she is a feisty one"
"Not for long. I will break that courageous spirit she has, and construct her into the perfect role. Just as I want planned to be."
You clenched your teeth and made stopped yourself from breathing when they came back and went upstairs and closed the door as you got out of your hiding spot and ran towards the corridors while crying in anger.
"Damn bastard!" You clenched your teeth until you abruptly opened the door making Eri flinch..
The girl you came to know was even worse than she was when you first met her.
"(Y/n)-San!" She gagged your name in horror as you checked her over "Y-You have to get out of here! Please!"
"Don't worry sweetie, I will take us both out of here. Away from that monster. I should have trusted my institution back then." You hugged her while crying "I'm so sorry Eri!"
She pulled you away crying hysterically "Please! He will kill you! You need to get out of here! Please mom!"
You gulped down a sob as she accidentally called you that as you picked her up.
"No eri. If that bastard comes near you again I will-"
"You will what, wife?"
You froze as Eri shrieked, ruby eyes looking behind you as you started to tremble as well.
You turned only the side of your head to see the man you now despised the most as she glared at you back.
"You should be in your room now, what are you doing in here?" He spoke way too calm for your taste.
"What am I-?! YOU'RE KIDDING?!" You clung onto Eri as you cried "WHAT THE HELL DOES THIS MEANS OVERHAUL?! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR OWN DAUGHTER?!"
"I don't have any kids." He sighed in irritatio as he took both of his gloves off very slowly making Eri starts to sob.
"THE WHY THE FUCK LIE TO ME?! WHY TREAT A CHILD LIKE THIS?! YOU FUCKING DISGRACE OF HUMAN BEING!"
"Now now. Aren't you being a bit too rude with your husband, wife?" He approached you slowly as you death glared at him.
"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME AND ERI! I REFUSE TO BELIEVE I MADE A MISTAKE ON MARRYING A MONSTER LIKE YOURSELF!" You shouted at the top of your lungs.
You gasped when you felt Eri being rudely taken away from your grip by Chrono as you shouted.
"No one will hear you wife. We are on the underground remember? I thought you were smarter than this." Chrono dragged Eri away from you as you went to grab her Chisaki gripped your wrist with brute force making you wince but never to stop glaring at him "I think I need to train you like a pet to understand your place in here."
"LET GO OF ME!" You tried to yank away but in a blink you felt tremendous pain, you saw pitch black and green last thing you could hear was Eri anguish sobs and scream pleading for him not to do this.
You died....
.
You gasped and tried to get up only to that one of yours hands was chained to a bed, along with both of you feet. You started hyperventilating. You died. You were sure you had just died. You looked around in panic that it was a new room. A whole ass white room.
What the hell?
You flinched when you heard steps until you choked when you saw overhaul entering with a pitch black mask and a metal table with a few... utensils.
"Awake I see." He murmured as you started to shake your whole body to get rid of the chains "Tsk. No need for that. Only a key or my quirk can get you out of there wife. Give up."
You scoffed and glared at him.
"What did you do to me? I freacking thought I died." You hissed as he grabbed a pair of plastic gloves and put them one.
"You did my dear. After all you didn't followed the orders." He blinked nonchantly as you observed him as he approached you slowly.
"Where the fuck is Eri?" You growled as he sighed.
"Eri is only good for my product. Her quirk is exactly what I need all these years to cure this sickness spread around the word that everyone call it quirks. Society is corrupted (Y/n)."
"But.." You looked at him in horror as his eyes glowed as he watched your frame tremble "You my dear, is a exception. With me correcting your minor defective attitudes you will become a being just as pure as a angel, a perfect model and a perfect wife for me. The leader of the Shie Hassaikai. With my new drug thanks to Eri's blood, this hero society will soon collapse. And we can finally live in a world full of sickness, doesn't this bring excitement to you?"
Silence stabilized in the room before enough finally found your voice as you stared in horror at the man before you.
"Are you crazy?" His expression fell a bit "You're torturing a child for this? Erase quirks from the world? Overhaul that's insane..." You shook your head in disbelief "Where the hell is your humanity?!"
His expression turned into one of anger as he scoffed and started to sanitize something before he sended an one eye glared to you.
"You speak like him. But do not worry. As soon as you get it, as soon as you see the big picture like I see. You will understand it. And about Eri? I am studying to get you to forget her. She is not our daughter or nothing ours."
"I ONLY APROACHED YOU BECAUSE OF HER YOU SICK BASTARD!" You trashed on the bed before you screamed when he overhauled the bed and quickly grabbed you by the neck and slammed you in the wall.
"You approached me out of your will." He growled, squeezing his grasp on your neck more "If you don't start to behave, I will force myself to do the same thing I did when you sneaked without MY permission around the house and found out all of these by yourself. Do you want that? Be torn apart and build back?" You shaked your head and pleaded for him to let go of your neck as the lack of oxygen was getting to you.
"Good." He growled in your face as he let go of you abruptly, making you fall on the ground as you gasped and coughed for air "I can't believe I have so much work to do now. First that little brat, and now I have to teach my own wife how to behave. What a pain..."
You started to cry before trembling standing up before gasping when he grabbed your chin and forced you to look up at him.
"I own you. Our marriage is pretty much like a deal. So you belong to me. I will give you two options:" He approached your face and glared deep into your eyes as you cried "Or you do as I say, be a good wife for me and no one gets hurt or... I will give an ending to that girl's life." You widened your eyes as you shaked your head violently.
"NO! NO PLEASE! I WILL DO WHAT YOU WANT BUT PLEASE..." You sobbed "Don't hurt Eri Overhaul.... I beg of you, please!"
He seemed rather pleased at that as he let go of your chin and you dropped on your knees crying violently as he stared down at you.
"Don't call me that anymore." You looked up at him in fright "Call me by my tittle, husband, or my abandoned name. Kai." He crouched down to your level as gently lifted your chin up "Go on, I want to hear it from your lips."
You sobbed but soon yelled in pain when your chin started to bleed as his grip became more harsh.
"Say. My. Name. Wife." He growled between teeth as you sobbed.
"Kai! Okay?! I said it! Kai!" He pondered pondered a bit before going to your neck and overhauling a bit making you scream in pain.
"Apologize for me. Apologize for saying I have no humanity and for disobeying me. Go on."
"I-I-Im sorry! I won't do it again! I-I didn't meant it! I'm sorry! Please! It HURTS-!"
"Please what my dear?"
"PLEASE KAI I BEG OF YOU!"
"Better." He restores your skin as you breathed in in relief as tears dropped on the floor "We're getting somewhere."
.
.
Pain... reverse. Overhaul. Reverse... obey him...
You were absolutely miserable... you had lost your fight and flight spirit as soon as Over-Kai... brought Eri to the line...
You guessed that should be already two years since this happened... the walls of your room looked no different but it had more things. Jewelry, clothes....
He though that would make you light up... sick bastard.
You heard from the other side of the walls that Eri had escaped and your heart swelled at the thought. You almost never saw her. Just a few times when you begged on your knees to Kai that at least one second you could see each other.
Eri no longer smiled while seeing you, she only cried and apologized for bringing you into this.
A door opened and you flinched in your bed as you saw Kai entering and taking off his mask.
"I got her back. It was a hassle since two heroes student caught her. But she is back." You cursed the heavens inside your head as you felt tears grow into your eyes.
Dammit... Eri could have escaped this hell.
"The process of the bullets are going explendid well." He stopped talking before looking at you arching an eyebrow... expecting something you already knew.
"That's... excellent to hear... darling." Your voice was weak and hoarse due ti your crying, thinking that Eri had escaped and now was safe and sound.
"Isn't it? Now. The yakusa is more close to getting their respect back." He mumbled before looking at you again "You've been behaving very well these months. Maybe I should give you something?"
You visibly perked up as you looked at him in hope.
"Can.. I see Eri.. just for a bit? I want to know how she is..." his humors darkened a bit as he scoffed.
"After years and you don't let go of this brat.... very well." He opened the door as you slowly got up from the bed and followed him to Eri'sroom
It has now loaded with toys and as soon as she heard the door open she flinched away but as soon as she saw your face she started to sob and you kneeled on the ground embracing her. She had now long hair....
"You almost did it..." You cried silently "You were so brave Eri..." yours tears soaked her little dress as hers soaked your clothes as well.
"I'm so sorry! IM SORRY!" She sobbed in your arms as you tried to shush and calm her down
Kai didn't allowed you two together for along time... you didn't know why, but he always claimed that you would get attached to the wrong child...
You didn't get it until today... as you were returning back to your prison...
He hold on his gloved hand a a little pot with something in it and a syringe in the other.
Your curiosity got the best of you sadly...
"Husband... what is this? Vitamins again?" You spoke nimbly as he stared at you before chuckling.
"No no. Not this time." You clenched your eyes a bit before he commanded for you to lay down with your stomach to the air as he made you fall asleep with another drug.
When you woke up you accidentally flinched when you felt a pair of lips kissing your forehead as you looked up at Chisaki looking at you with the same cold eyes.
"Wha.. what did you-"
"Your exams will come back by the morning. Let's see if it fertilized."
"F-fertilized? What?" You mumbled in horror.
"Well dear. It's been two years since our marriage and.. well." He got up from the bed and stared at the towel on the desk before grabbing it "I need a heir for the Hassaikai. I'm still quite young, but better prevent than to let this happen later."
"H-heir...?" You mumbled in horror as you felt cold sweat slide down your back.
"Precisely." He glanced at you "I adore you. Your expressions, your body... everything. You're the sculpture of beauty. Just imagine what a pure being will be our own flesh and blood child."
"I-I..." You started to tremble "I don't know about that dear... y-you don't like touching r-remember?" You trembled "Imagine how would you react to sex? Is q-quite messy."
He studied your expressions for a bit before chuckling
"Well, I am a mysophobjc. But I am a man. But I will not force you into intimate activities... yet." You felt tears accumulating "but I do want a heir. So I myself decided to make this work. Without assaulting you."
You stared in horror at him.
"Y-You... didn't... d-did you-?"
"Yes wife of mine."
No... God please no he didn't do this to you.
"Artificial insemination was such a blessing that humanity did it. Finally not a error."
.
.
That night you didn't sleep, and when Chrono threw the papers you screamed in terror.
It was positive. You were pregnant with this monster's child.
You kneeled on the ground and screamed, punche dthe ground and cried your eyes out for this fucking hell you were forced into.
.
.
You flinched when the ground started to tremble until you screamed when you saw Chrono and the hero Eraserhead falling and battling.You didn't know what the fuck was going, what was happening and the look the hero sended to you did not help to cease your tears.
A teenage boy with a quirk about food helped you out as Eraser did his best to help you as well as you saw Chrono being arrested.
"W-What is happening?" You shaked as the heroes carried you out of the underground and out of the house.
Out of this hell.
"Is over miss.." Eraserhead coughed a bit before he looked at you more closely "Don't I know you?"
"I-I don't know..." You widened your eyes at Chisaki being arrested and soon later seeing Eri walking towards you then running crying hysterically.
You hugged her close as you finally cried to your heart content.... you were somehow free...
Out of that man's grasp...
Finally...
.
.
"I'm so glad to see you again miss (L/n)! You look so much better! BUT I DIDN'TEXPECTED TO SEE YOU AND ERI SO SOON I'm so happy!" You smiled at the green haired boy. You had watched U.A festival along with Mirio and Eri.. you felt somehow guilty about learning that the blonde didn't had his quirk anymore but he only hugged you close and also apologized for not coming sooner to the rescue.
"I'm glad to see you too Midoriya." You giggled before watching in adoration as Eri with U.A students, such as Uraraka, Kirishima, Tsuyu, the big three.. now you knew almost all of their names thanks to Shota.
"We decided is the best to watch over them here in U.A." aizawa started to explain as Eri showed you the pigtails Nejire had just done on her hair as you praised on how she looked and how Nejire did such cute pigtails.
"I understand Eri-chan but, sorry (L/n)-san?" You hummed at Kirishima "You don't have no one?" You smiled sadly as you shook your head.
"But that's no because I'm staying over here. I'm quirkless but I have a few knowledge about nursing so..." Midoriya hugged you tight as you gasped for air and laughed at the sudden show of affection as he cried about how you were a brilliant hero.
"And because of other thing." Aizawa mumbled as you sighed sadly... all students seemed curious as you decided to speak.
"I'm.. pregnant."
"WITH MISTER AIZAWA'S CHILD?!" the students shouted and your face was now tomato red as Shota face palmer.
"I KNEW IT! MISTER AIZAWA ALWAYS TALK ABOUT YOU! I WON THE BET!" Kirishima yelled before Aizawa wrapped him up and squeezed his mouth shut
"Everyone in the class knows he has a crush on you (L/n)-San!" Urakaka and Tsuyui started to cheer along before you gently stopped them.
"I'm flattered. But... no is not Aizawa-sensei..." You mumbled sadly as mentioned for nejire and Mirio to take Eri out.. "I was forced to get pregnant while I was in overhaul grasp. To give him a heir... it was through artificial insemination though."
The whole room stayed in shock... the girl's were in state of horror in anger.
"Can.. Can't you.. you know?" Uraraka mumbled sadly as you shook your head.
"The fetus is now developing, the doctors said that it could risk my own life a abortion, and is not this child fault what happened to me so..." You sat down, maintaining your tears at bay as all students held their anger for your sake until Aizawa sat next to you.
"I will help you out. Whatever you think is the best I will agree with it. Now that the hard part is over, at least we can take care of it..."
"BESIDES!" Mirio bargeg in along with Eri as you squeaked "We are here! WE AREHEROES AFTER ALL!"
You stared at Eri whose smile was vibrant as she walked to you and held your face the same way you did when you found her.
"I will help you out mom! No matter what! ." She giggled which made you tear up as you sobbed quietly.... felling Eri hug you and a pair of muscular arms and dark hair block your vision as you thanked them. Over and over again.
.
Don't know if I should write a Parr 2 but oh well here comes shit writing I hope you guys enjoy ^^
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choptop-sawyer · 18 days ago
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Any Nubbins x reader fluff? Do nsfw if you’re down too 😈 Thanks!
Numbins nubby buddy.
(Haha sorry this took so long)
Nubbins x Reader Fluff
Nubbins is very big on hugging you from behind. He tries to sneak up on you to do it, but you can hear his nose whistling... but he's very happy if you humor him and act surprised when he locks his bony arms around you. He likes that he got a reaction.
"I- I found somethin'." He says. His voice in your ear is high and choked with excitement. His dark hair tickles where it brushes your face.
"What is it Nubbins?" You say. Nubbins giggles a little. "It'ssa surprise. I'm gonna make somethin' for ya!"
You think this over. You had to be wary of Nubbins' surprises. The last one was a dead snake, dangled over your face as you woke up from sleep. When you had flinched in shock, Nubbins had smiled. You don't think he cared about the difference between joyful surprise or fear. Anything that would make you notice him was good.
But this one sounded fairly okay. He was going to make a gift. Your strange boyfriend loved making things when he wasn't spending his time on the shimmering asphalt. He'd made you a gift when you first decided to stay with him. It was a little bone carving of some kind of lumpy animal. You carried it in your pocket.
Was he even your boyfriend? You weren't sure. He never said anything about it. But what you did know was that he seemed drawn to you, and despite how strange he could be (or is it because he was so strange?) you were drawn to him.
You reach behind you and stroke his oil slick hair. "Thanks, Nub. I'm looking forward to it."
"It'll be good, I promise." He said. His words crack a little under the strain of the promise he's telling you. And call you crazy, but you knew this time that it wasn't just a prank.
A twinge of something. Gratefulness? Love for this gangly man? You don't know. You're aware all of a sudden how fond you are of Nubbins. You turn, and kiss his face, right on that livid mark. He squirms, almost like a puppy glad to be receiving love but mostly ready to set off on its way again.
You let him go. Sometimes he'd give you a kiss back but they always seemed like a mockery of kisses, square on the mouth, hands gripping your face, elbows straight out on either side. Raw, vulnerable romantic intimacy happened sporadically. But when it did happen, it cut deep at your heart.
The gift is pushed to the back of your mind until a few days later, when Nubbins offers you an old chocolate box. He'd already given you something (a pouch to match his) in the same box before, but he rewrote the your name on the top. You take it from him.
"Open it! Open it!" He says. You slip the lid off.
Inside is a picture frame, crafted of bone and sticks and picture wire. A picture of your face lays in the middle of the frame, almost looking like it was laid to rest crowned by an odd bouquet. Despite the initial messiness, you can tell the frame was put together with purpose.
"Do ya like it?" Nubbins asks, hands already poised to take the frame back if you don't. He sees your smile. He smiles as well.
"I love it." You say. He draws close, not embracing you, but almost burying his face in your neck. He kisses you there by pressing his lips to the skin and staying.
You loop an arm around him. He doesn't struggle free. "I like ya." He says to you.
"I like you too, Nubbins."
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Text
Violence, Be My Therapy
Enemies To Lovers week - Day 3
Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader
Prompt: "Tell me who did this to you."
Word Count: 3.7K
Warnings: 18+. Smut. Unhealthy coping mechanisms. Angry, grieving Whiskey. Injury and blood mention. Illusion to reader being tortured. Possessive/protective Whiskey. Soft PIV sex.
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They tell him it isn't healthy.
That he shouldn't be dealing with his anger and his grief by latching on to you, the pretty little thief with eyes as bright as stars and a tongue so sharp you can slice a man to ribbons in seconds.
They don't know shit. 
The therapy doesn't work. He sits and he stews and he throws daggers with his eyes as the doctor tries to sink bony fingers into the grief stricken rot of his brain and rip out every dark little thought he's got going on. 
What works is you. Hating you and hunting you down - the swipe of his fist across the swell of your cheek and your foot nearly caving in his ribs before you slip away into the night and the vicious cycle starts again. 
They tell him to let the normal authorities deal with you, you're hardly their usual type of target after all but Jack's a man obsessed. He says it's because you stole from them, that it's the principle of the matter and he can't just let that lie. 
He doesn't want to admit it's because he needs you - the beautiful disaster that let's him burn his darkness through her and still welcomes him back for more. 
**
The first handful of times you slip from him he feels like he could tear you apart. He'd underestimated you and he could kick himself for it, despises you for using his own tactics against him - his ever present weakness for soft doe eyes and a buttery smile biting him in the ass. 
He's repulsed that his body reacts to someone like you - it unnerves him, makes him feel all different shades of wrong and it's like you just know. You taunt him constantly, an airy grin on your face as you wink and blow kisses like it's all one big game until the day a fight between you goes south and something shifts. 
Things had been different - brushed with a more depraved kind of violence and he'd seen the blind panic streak through your eyes, felt the way desperation gave you a sudden adrenaline kick when his hand had closed around your neck before you sent him flying backwards through a glass door. 
He could barely feel the sharp chunk protruding from his thigh, the stain of blood on his jeans steadily expanding as he lifted himself up on his elbows and blinked down. When he'd tried to move, your horrified gasp had startled him, his head snapping up in surprise and eyes narrowing in suspicion as you'd hesitantly crept closer.   
"Oh shit! - oh shit, I'm sorry, please don't move you might make it worse or cut yourself somewhere else. Just stay put!" 
He'd wanted to snarl at you to stay the fuck away from him, to just go and leave him with another reason to loathe you but then you'd started stripping out of your hoodie and confusion had stilled his tongue, his mouth agape in disbelief as you'd gingerly stepped over shards of glass towards him and squatted by his injured leg to tie the clothing above the wound. 
He'd hissed when you pulled it tight, his body jerking in pain and you'd flinched like he'd struck you, a flurry of shit, shit sorry spilling from your lips while he'd glared and tried to ignore the unsteady thump of his heart from your proximity. 
"I'm not gonna pull it out okay." You'd stammered, voice cracked with nerves as you'd scrubbed a shaky hand over your face.  "There's no way of knowing if it's nicked something and I really don't want to make it worse." 
Jack had wondered then if blood made you queasy, you looked dazed, unfocused and it's really hard for him to snort in amusement. Some criminal. But then he'd begrudgingly reminded himself you're a thief, not a killer, this was probably your first time seeing so much blood given the way your eyes keep drifting to the wound. 
"Hey eyes on me darlin'." He commanded, softer than he'd meant to but it'd been hard to treat you with his usual venomous disdain when you'd looked so damn lost. "You've done a mighty fine job, no need to be getting yourself all faint staring at it."  
You'd dipped your head then, swiping your palms across your denim clad thighs whilst a shaky breath blew past your lips. "How long before someone comes to save your ass?"
"Pardon?" 
"Don't play dumb cowboy." You'd grumbled with an exasperated glance at his face. "I know you probably keep in contact with your colleagues on job and you've been wounded so, how long till someone comes for you?" 
Clever little thing. 
It shouldn't have chewed him up - whether he should tell you or not.
But if he told you and you'd ran only to be caught by another agent he would have been pissed, the thought of someone laying a hand on you that isn't him, even if it is just to lock you away made his blood sear. But if you stayed you'd definitely be caught and on top of being pissed he'd most likely never see you again.
"Maybe 5 minutes." He eventually huffed and you'd nodded, standing to kick shattered fragments of glass away until you'd made a clear spot for you to sit whilst he'd watched curiously. 
"You're not gonna run?"
"Gotta make sure my favourite guy doesn't bleed out before help comes." You'd shrugged, offering him a crooked grin when you'd plopped back down and carefully placed the foot attached to his wounded leg on your lap.  
Always full of surprises.
"I'm your favourite guy?" He'd drawled with an arched brow and a teasing quirk of his lips. "Well consider me honoured sugar, but I must ask how low you've set the bar for myself to be top, surely you have better prospects than a man who's trying to launch you in jail." 
"Hey you've chased me for over a year, that's dedication you don't often see these days." You laughed, bright eyes trailing over him slowly. "Plus try not to let this go to your hardly awful to look at either, even when you are trying to choke me without taking me on a date first." 
He'd flashed you a wicked smirk, echoing your words slyly before rearranging his features into a stern frown. "I hope you're not flirting with me to try and keep yourself out of trouble little lady." 
"Damn, it was worth a shot." 
He'd felt something when you'd turned that devastating smile on him, the warmth of your laughter still swirling in your gaze until the thundering of footsteps had shattered the tentative peace. 
You'd slid from relaxed to wary in a moment, distrust evident in the shadows of your sharpening features like you'd been expecting him to pull out his lasso and tie you to him so you couldn't escape. Jack hadn't even tried to move, he'd murmured your name instead, somewhere between a warning and a plea as he'd watched you swallow harshly. 
You'd reached out, somewhat stunned as if you hadn't meant to, and stroked your fingers over the sharp curve of his jaw so tenderly that it had frozen him in place and left him speechless. 
"Get well soon cowboy." You'd whispered, a mischievous glint blooming in your eyes before you'd whipped the stetson off his head and planted it on your own. "I'll be looking forward to the day you come take this back." 
**
Now there's been nothing from you for weeks and Jack's close to losing it. He's scoured everywhere, all your usual haunts, potential targets that he's positive would catch your eye. They all remain silent. 
The feeling in his chest makes him agitated, he tells himself it can't be but his initial frustration now feels an awful lot like worry - panic. It grows fiercer the more days that pass with no sign of you and the more he shoves denial at the issue the snappier he becomes. 
Champ eventually gets fed up with him - sends him home for a week with strict instructions to stay away from anything to do with your case and to get some damn rest.
He doesn't listen.
His home office looks like a tornado has blown through. He's spent endless nights pouring over your file, the rushed scrawls of his handwriting on ripped out sheets of paper scattered across every surface. They're notes on you that he's added through the months, everything he's ever learnt, everything you've ever mentioned as some kind of explanation for why you do what you do.
It's like trying to piece together a puzzle that just crosses the line of being too fragmented. He feels like there's so many pieces he's still missing that he can't even begin to get some kind of picture of where you might be. 
He almost ignores the knock at his door, too far gone with the need to find you, but then it comes again, sharper - more desperate. It makes the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up and the first thing he does when he goes to investigate is grab one of his guns. He's not sure what he expects to find but when he opens the door almost painfully slow but it certainly isn't you. 
You sagged against the front of his house, barely able to stand with your ragged breathing and everywhere his dark eyes can see covered in blood. 
He murmurs your name and you try to smile, a soft whimper cracking in your throat as your lip slits and more red trickles down your chin. He tries to move towards you but it's like wading through tar. Shock has made his limbs heavy and he thinks you see it because you push away from the house, try and meet him halfway with a limp in your step and your voice straining for something light. 
"Hey there cowboy, miss me?" 
Then your eyes roll back and you collapse. 
His body manages to tear free off the shock, lunging forward to catch you before you can hit the ground and crack your head off the solid wood floor in his entryway. The unnatural angle he's in makes his knees scream before he's able to hook an arm beneath your thighs and swing you up against his chest. 
Your head lolls against his shoulder and he panics, runs with you in his arms to the bedroom so he can lay you down and figure out the extent of your injuries.
There's so many.   
You're a mess of cuts, of grazed and broken skin, bruises almost everywhere and the noise that slips from Jack's mouth is nothing short of horrified. 
"Who's done this to you sweetheart?" He whispers despite knowing you won't answer. 
You're still out cold - the agonised twist of your features gradually fading into something softer as your body forces to rest. He cleans and bandages you up the best he can in the meantime, his brow furrowing deeper when he dabs antiseptic on your wounds and you flinch with a soft moan of pain.
He doesn't realise until there's nothing more for him to do that he's fucking seething, his jaw locked up tight and blackened rage charring his veins as he looks down at your blood coating his hands. 
Someone had hurt you, tried to take you from him. The knowledge makes him feel like he'll spiral out of control. As if it wasn't enough that his wife and unborn child were ripped away from him, now someone's trying to take the only thing he has left, the only thing that helps with the grief and the pain and the bursts of murderous fury that threaten to swallow him whole. 
He refuses to look at it too closely, to take out this possessive thing he feels for you and poke at the tangled mess of it for answers. 
But what he will do is wait for you to come back round, make sure you're okay before coaxing out the names of who hurt you and then he's going to slaughter them all. 
**
You wake screaming and for the second time that night Jack runs, bursts into the bedroom like a bat out of hell before he falters at the sight of you shaking, tears spilling down your cheeks as you choke on sharp inhales. 
He freaks out for a few seconds, it's been so long since he comforted someone after a nightmare he thinks he's forgotten what he's supposed to do. But then you notice him hovering at your door and his name is leaving your lips on a frightened sob and he's by your side in an instant. 
He pulls you flush to his chest, maneuvers you carefully in his arms so he's not pressing on any wounds and rocks you slow and gentle with his lips brushing over your hair. 
"It's alright darlin', I'm here - Jack's got you." He murmurs. "You're safe now sweetheart." 
You curl around him so tight it's like you're frightened of floating away if you don't anchor yourself to him and Jack simply lets you, squeezes you softly every now and again to remind you he's still there until eventually your breathing becomes steady, the pulse he can feel beneath your skin less of a frantic drum. 
He doesn't want to ask, hates the idea that it might upset you further but the fire that's been blistering his gut since you nearly bled out on his bed makes him blurt it out. 
"Tell me who did this to you."
You shiver in his hold, voice an exhausted croak. "Someone who really didn't appreciate being robbed." 
He goes rigid. "What the hell did you take that they nearly killed you for it?" 
Your head tilts up and he immediately dips his chin to look at you - fuck your beautiful, even with all the cuts and bruises and your threadbare smile you're capable of making his chest ache. 
"I told you the people I typically steal from aren't good people, there's some things those type of people shouldn't have access to and I make sure they don't." 
He wants to push for more, opens his mouth with all the questions he has just waiting to tumble out but you silence him with a brush of your fingers against his lips and his eyes go wide. 
"Please don't ask me anymore about them right now." You plead softly. "I can still see everything they did when I close my eyes."
Motherfuckers.
That hurts him, wounds him somewhere deep in the parts of him that sees you and demands protect protect protect, despite the fact he really shouldn't feel that way. He feels like he's failed again, those monsters had dug their claws so deep into you that you still feel the phantom rip and the hot drip of your blood and there's not a damn thing he did to stop it. 
He wants to kiss the pads of your fingers resting on his lips, soothe the jagged edges of your pain and fold you in tighter to his body until you absorb enough of him that it forces them out but he's not sure if he can. Or even if he should - he's already struggling internally with how wrong this all is. 
However it's not enough to stop him from asking. "What do you need me to do darlin'?" 
He should have known he was dooming himself when your eyes dip dark with want, dropping to the place where your fingers tremble against his skin before returning to his gaze brushed hungry with longing. 
It makes his breath come shallow and quick, watching you intently as you stroke your fingertips over the plump of his mouth - trailing them down his jaw, his neck and down to the collar of his shirt where you curl them tight into the fabric and use it to pull him to the tender, sweet give of your mouth.
**
You ease yourself down on the bed and Jack follows, just like he has done for the past year - like it's all he knows how to do anymore. He dips his head and seals his lips over yours, drowns you in kisses full of soft heat whilst his tongue slips over your own again and again and again.
He tries to keep his body hovered over you, doesn't want to risk being causing you any more pain but you're not having any of it. Your hands tighten to fists in his shirt as you yank him into you with more strength than he expects and a breathy sigh against his lips. 
"I need to feel you."
The words crack him open - all his emotions swirling to melting point and erupting like a damn volcano until he feels like he'll shudder apart from the pressure of it all, the fear of it bleeding into you and making you just as fucked up as him. 
But then maybe you already are. You steal from dangerous people for a living and thrive off being chased by a secret agent. You've taken everything he's ever given you - his violence, his rage, his grief - curled it inside yourself and hammered it with your own to give him back something precious. 
The way you're looking at him now strips him to his barest, most honest self for the first time in years - eyes glowing tender with trust, a soft shy smile gracing your lips whilst your fingers comb through his hair - and he realises that he loves you. 
He wonders if you already know - it scares him but he thinks he wants you to. He wants you to feel it with every stroke of his worshipful fingers over the curve of your face whilst he kisses you deep, wants you to sense it in every hushed rasp of careful praise as he peels off your clothes and brushes his lips over each piece of newly exposed skin.
You strip him just as reverently, a satisfied hum vibrating in your chest as he sinks against you skin to skin and he allows it to swell like pride in his own.
"This what you wanted pretty baby?" He husks, nosing at your jaw. 
You wrap your legs around him, pull his hips flush against the warm cradle between your thighs and grin when he chokes. "Almost." You breathe. 
Fuck, you'll be the death of him. 
But he doesn't have it in him to argue, to suggest that maybe they shouldn't because you're wounded or because you've spent the last year beating seven shades out of each other. Instead he takes his cock and guides it to your silken slick heat, his breath hitching in his throat as he rubs his length through your folds and feels you go boneless. 
"Jack, please." You whimper and he can't hold himself back any longer. 
He rocks his hips and slips inside you inch by inch, his lip caught between his teeth as your pussy flutters around the thick of him and you gasp when he finally sinks to the hilt. 
His whole body trembles and he'd be worried about suffocating you if it weren't for your palms pressing flat against his back, drunk on the need to be encased by him completely as his forehead falls softly against yours.
"You're so fucking beautiful." He whispers and you liquify, go all warm and shiny eyed for him as your hips grind beneath his and you hold him tighter. 
He fucks you honey slow - languid rolls of his hips and butterfly soft brushes of his fingers up your sides - taking your arms from around his back and raising them above your head so he can stretch you out beneath him and melt into you. 
His mouth finds itself crushed to yours, kisses open mouthed and sloppy as you pant your desire into one another. When he nudges against that fleshy spot inside you arch up with a broken cry, pussy clamping tight enough that his eyes almost roll back in his head and he nearly loses himself there and then in your pleasured moans of Jack Jack Jack Jack.
"Sound so perfect saying my name honey." He groans. 
The room fills up with the sounds of your lovemaking, the wet squelch every time he rolls his hips into the soaked clutch of your pussy and the rising moans of you feel so good and oh fuck yes right there. 
He can't resist sliding his hand between your sweat slick bodies to touch at the swollen mess of your sex, fingers rubbing quick, tight circles on your clit as he angles his hips and spears himself into the heart of your pleasure with every deliberate, firm stroke. 
He knows you're nearing your peak. The tension curling tighter in your body, muscles in your wrists jumping beneath his palm and your legs quivering around his waist. It unhinges something hungry in him, his pace picking up desperate to feel you snap around him, to taste the pleasure on your skin as your pussy milks his cock. 
A wicked bolt of pleasure shoots through his gut and he sinks his teeth into the curve of your shoulder to muffle the ragged growl tearing up his throat. 
"Jack! Oh fuck I'm gonna -" You sob, your body spasming and ankles locking tight against his ass, trying to shove him deeper as you cum hard. 
It punches the air from his lungs, your pussy strangling his cock as he feels the gush of hot liquid painting him and yanking him brutally into his own release. He gasps and chokes on it, hips stuttering before he grinds himself as deep as he possibly can whilst his cock swells and spills warm ropes inside your walls. 
He's kissing you as soon as he can breathe again, your fingers buried in his hair, murmuring your affection whilst he brushes his lips wherever his mouth can reach and slips his cool tongue over the sting of his mark on your shoulder - the blaring reminder that even when you're both being sweet you're still tinged with a little violence. The good kind. 
You look down at him as his chin rests on your stomach and his eyes are streaked with vulnerability and you smile. The kind of smile that maybe can't heal everything but it can knit a few of the torn edges back together. 
They tried to tell him this isn't healthy. 
They don't know shit. 
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Pedro Taglist: @outlawedmando
Enemies to Lovers Taglist: @sfr99 @itspdameronthings @miraclesabound @hnt-escape
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