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iwaasfairy · 6 months

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┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

tw. wound fucking, blood, gore, don’t read this if you’re squeamish!!, somnophilia, oral, noncon, megumi is delusional in this, yandere, belly bulge but gross! , cannibalistic thoughts wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. this one,,, was me pushing myself to just go buck wild, and channel my inner junji, and i think i got somewhere with it... a select few of you will understand me when i say that ,, this is like my love letter to megumi fr ♡ like i said though, this one might be the one that has people a little yucked out but! it's basically my halloween fic, for the spooky month

fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

When the rattling of the stretcher finally quiets in the halls and the rising rate of adrenaline starts to flatten out, Megumi’s lost on what to do. Any of the other sorcerers can’t decide what the next step is either, it seems. Yuji with his back pressed against the glass and staring off into the empty part of the hall they just came from, and principal Yaga a stern quietness and arms crossed. Ieiri-san will do her best work today of any days if there’s anything to be done about it, but Megumi can tell. That uncertainty hangs over all of them as the faint breathing of a collapsed body grows more pitched and panicked.

Megumi always sort of hated you. He didn’t like you from the second he first met you, and it just grew and grew and grew from there. He hates your stupid demeanor with your higher-than-thou morals and your sky-high milestones and that grin that could make even the coldest heart split in two. It doesn’t escape him that this is the same reason he always did enjoy Maki, but you were — more recognizable to him, and yet somehow much further away.

He always hated the way he’d catch himself watching the soft motion of your lashes, or how your mouth would form words, the heat that would carry color to your face. He always hated the quiet moments you’d sit by his side, rattling his heart out of his chest and laughing at him for his hot cheeks; and he always hated how you’d be the thought on his mind right after he’d made sure his own limbs hadn’t yet been blown to bits. But standing with his hands covered in a coating of blood that isn’t his, dripping onto the panes of the old flooring, he wonders what that hatred ever really got him. It never helped him understand you better, that for someone so alike himself, you were so much better at everything.

His chest is rising and falling too fast.

Gojo’s too late, always is when it comes down to the wire, Megumi thinks as the lankier man rushes through and stops a few feet away from them. Yaga’s brow pinches, before he lifts his head the slightest bit to acknowledge the white blond. “What’s the status,” Gojo has to ask, and before he has another conscious thought, Megumi’s furiously rubbing his hands over his sweater in an attempt to get the blood off while his teeth clack with how hard he’s clenching them. There’s a thickness between his ears that makes everything sound far off. The blood stains his fingers the more he rubs, and his face gets hotter and hotter as it lasts.

But he thinks he hears the principal explain.

How you had been pinned down and knocked clean out, head bashed against the concrete pillars. How Megumi had been too busy trying and failing to keep the uglier curse from blasting you both to shit, to notice. How the other special grade had picked you up by the neck and unceremoniously shoved something into your mouth and pushed until it went down your throat - until you started convulsing, spitting out blood and bile before he could reach you. Megumi hadn’t taken the time to look then, but he knows now what it was, slimy, decaying contents of a little vial that had gone missing a few months ago.

“The girl must’ve been a real good match.” Yaga pushes his fingers to his brow, as if forcibly trying to push the frown down. “Ieiri’s doing what she can.” It doesn’t make any of them feel better when Gojo clicks his tongue and aims his eyes at the door, before casting a quick glance at Megumi under thick, blond lashes. He wants to puke. He’d shoved his fingers down your throat for what felt like hours, trying desperately to get you to throw up the curse. Had carried you all the way back while you were sobbing and wailing in pain. Nothing.

If even the worst case repeats itself, they’ll have another incarnation on their hands, and the noose will be tightened around your throat. Yuji must have already realized this, because he’s yet to say anything since you’d been tied onto the stretcher with blood pouring out of your nose and ears and coughing up grime. Megumi’s not even sure if Ieiri would hesitate to put you down without a second warning before it gets to the same turning point. And he is pissed. At the situation, his friends, himself, you. He’s so angry his hands shake, and so angry tears start stinging behind his eyes, feeling like any motion might cause him to throw up. He hates you.

Your chest’s rising with big motions up and down, up and down, as you drum your feet on his bedsheets like an excited rabbit. Megumi grunts, snatches the book from your hands and tosses it back down with the others that were not-so-neatly stacked on his desk. Your shape on his bed makes a dent in his mind that he’ll have to keep replaying over and over when he closes his eyes, and it has a frown pulling his eyebrows down automatically. “So grumpy,” you yawn, and also roll over onto your stomach to tuck your legs to your core, lifting one hand to rest your face into it.

“This isn’t your room.”

“Might as well be,” you giggle back, and he watches for a moment as your hair falls along your shoulders in a gentle brush, making you look even more enchanting. You’re soft and parts of you are shiny like silk, seemingly oozing your rosy, peachy aura all over his stuff. You catch his eyes for just a few breaths, still rising your chest too distractingly, before you push yourself up and slide off the bed to walk up to him. He pivots to thumb through the notes on his desk again, to be farther away from your face probably, and his shoulders rise into an uncomfortable pinch when you approach, feet patting on his floor. “Megumi.” You say his name with a clear pout.

Then heat covers his skin at the base of his throat and he freezes, letting the way you drag your soft lips over his pulse fill him up entirely. His hands shake too hard to keep a grip on the paper, so he spins you around and shoves you back against the desk as you hiss at the sudden painful grip, his fist wrapped into the collar of your shirt. “I already told you to stop doing that.” He hisses, and your eyes are wide and glittering like diamonds, beautiful color peering up at him.

“But you like it when I do that,” you whisper back ever so softly, and his head feels like it’s splitting at the seams, cracking his skull under a non-escapable pressure. He can’t think, can’t even eat normally without the ghost of you hanging over him and shaking him up. It’s unbearable even when you’re not around. His fist unclenches from the flimsy fabric to instead grip your chin with his thumb, and his heart bangs against his ribcage harder than can be normal. Harder than is healthy. A little thought in the back of his skull begs to push. Just once, deny you from digging your claws deeper into him— but he’s already melted to your shape before he can blink.

His face drops like you’re magnetic, thighs pushing you further into the desk and also into him; and it’s truly embarrassing that his hands are still shaking like they do. You lean in when he does, and let your lips meet his hungry, treacherous mouth, other hand sliding to your waist to pull you closer. Your tongue brushes his and he implodes inside, and he swears it hurts to be this close to you.

Not that you care. Your arms wind around his neck to pull him even closer, and his blood feels like it’s boiling under his skin.

He finds himself wandering back to the quieter wing of the school when the sun’s already dipped far past the horizon, and the cold starts picking up. He’s dragging his feet, so he won’t fucking rush back to the room he finds himself thinking about so fast he stumbles. He’s glaring at the patterns in the floorboards so he doesn’t cry. You’re stable- quiet puffs of air escaping your nose every few seconds, but you’re still under surveillance. As far as the clans are concerned, they’ll put something sharp between your eyes sooner rather than later, before whatever’s slumbering inside you wakes up. But Gojo’s fighting for you. It makes him grimace to think about.

Knocking his knuckles onto the doorframe, he enters the dimly lit room. Nanami doesn’t stand when he spots him, but does uncross his legs as he takes a deep breath. Neither of them speak for a while, and the dark haired man takes that time to run his eyes over you. You’re not as dirty as you were when you first got back, shivering and shaking. You’re no longer dripping with blood, though he’s sure if he were to look close enough, he’d still be able to see flecks of it between your cracked lips. As he walks up, he finds himself thinking that you look strangely peaceful, and that doesn’t seem entirely right.

Save for the bloody mark that seems branded into your forehead, you look like you’re quietly sleeping on the metal slab that supports your body. After all the pain and agony you’ve caused in him, sleepless nights and long days of wondering, hoping you’d be okay. Why is it that he’s the one affected by you? Why is it that he’s the one who’s going to have to say goodbye again? He stares at your unmoving form as if that’ll give him an answer, but it doesn’t. And the pit in his stomach swells again. He’s just so angry all the time. Megumi breathes out. “It’s my turn to take watch for a while.”

“You’re early,” Nanami’s deep baritone chastises, but he gets up from the seat anyway. He smooths out the wrinkles in his suit, before slowly placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. The weight is heavy, and somehow doesn’t soothe him at all. But there’s an attempt, he guesses. He’s still not entirely sure why everyone is looking at him like he’s the one who needs it most, broken and disheveled and mourning. He’s been able to finish his tasks like everyone else has, and he can banish the thought of you when he’s supposed to focus on work— at least, mostly. He doesn’t need the fucking pity. “Want some coffee? Or green tea?” Nanami asks, letting his hand slide off when Megumi shrugs.

“No. I’m okay.”

The older man seems to hesitate, simply nodding when he walks past. Before closing the door behind him, he once again clears his voice, and Megumi turns over his shoulder. The blond has this look in his eyes, of pity, as he talks. “Megumi, there’s a chance she pulls through.” Why again - that fucking pity? “Don’t give up.” Though it makes him tingle with an unbearable sort of itch deep under the skin, he grits his teeth, and his brain’s hot and irritated when he responds.

“I wasn’t going to.” Nanami doesn’t seem to believe him, but still softly slides the door closed behind him, and when the footsteps grow softer and softer, Megumi allows for a second to collect himself. He braces his hands onto the metal as he leans in, close enough to feel just the slightest bit of your warmth on his fingers, and see the way you’re still breathing, though shallow, too faint for his liking. His brows pinch when he finds himself with his forehead pressed to your stomach, hunched over like he’s praying at your shrine or something. But he can’t help it.

As much time as he spent beside you with a frown on his face, it never feels enough. He can’t stay away, like it’s an involuntary thing— you leave him no choice in the matter. Even here in the darkness, whining softly into your wheezed breaths, it isn’t enough to be beside you. He can’t do anything from here at your bedside; and that uselessness makes him feel even more uneasy. He needs to be closer to you. Wants to be so close you two get stuck together and melt together like an inseparable entity, would want to crawl inside you if he could.

His nose presses into the clean shirt that smells like your laundry, as he clenches his fists so hard along the table edge they start to ache. His eyes are pressed closed tight when he allows him just a second to nose below your sternum, and that uncomfortable stinging sensation comes back to his eyes. “Fucking idiot,” his lips brush against your covered skin, taking in the lack of heat, of your smell and the way you sounded with his face buried there, “I didn’t mean it.”

“Aw, ow, ow, Megumi~” You pout with a pitched whine as his hand stays screwed around your knee for a little longer, keeping you trapped under his heavier, taller body so that you start wiggling. Your head falls back against his arm, and you lean to press a few kisses to his wrist that’s holding your own to the floor. “Be more gentle.” You pout when you pull back and flash him that fucking look that sends icy shivers down his spine, and exactly nothing else. “You can be gentle, can’t you?” Every other part of him flushes with heat under your doe-eyed, pitiful look, definitely when you start wiggling out of his grasp like you’re suddenly over the game.

You started it. He wouldn’t put himself in your range on purpose. When you’re about halfway out from under his crouched form, you sit up to be face to face; and you brush your hand past his ear, down his jaw and neck and trail his collarbones, all places he’s convinced are now stained a bright, obnoxious pink from his flush. You let your fingers linger when you tilt your head aside a bit so you can slot your lips over his into a sweet, little kiss, and you pull your lips into another pout. “Swear you’re doing it to hurt me sometimes. I’m never trying to hurt you, you know.” A few strands of hair fall over your eye when you sit below him, and he has to fight every single muscle in his body not to push it back for you.

He wants to see your eyes. He wants you to see him like this, pinned under you like the attraction you render him as— his body collapses on top of you as you start giggling all fucking cutely, and his heart races more than it ever has. Your heartbeat drums into his face when he buries it into your softness, chest against his cheek, too long for his own sanity before he drags himself off you. And it is a drag. His entire body starts feeling sluggish when you’re this close to him, close enough to drown himself in your scent. He won’t ever say it, but that scent gets him hard and awfully mellow all at once, his cock coming to life in his pants before he’s moving.

You look happy. Your eyes are those bright, gentle colors that rain down on him, and your lips are quirked into a soft smile, you must know what you’re doing to him. Setting him up for failure again. He huffs and pushes himself onto his back instead, knocking his head to the floor while you’re moving from the rug - splaying your knees either side of him before you nuzzle right back on top of his chest and make it even harder to get a breath, let alone catch it. He’s sure he’s panting a little when you leave your warmth draped all over him, and you don’t do anything other than be there.

His arms are still on the floor, his body rigid under you, but you’re softly giggling into his peck before he frowns down at you again when you catch his eyes. “What?”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” you admit, not proud, not gloating - just stating the fact, and heat overtakes his neck now too. Instead of letting you wind him up any further, he bucks you off and switches positions again, now with your two wrists caught in his hands as you squeak with the ache that probably lodges in your back.

“Can you get off of me?” He sits back on his feet, not letting go of your hands yet, before your eyes flutter and you grab him back. Well, brush your fingers over the skin you can reach, pawing at him just enough to tickle. “What’s with you today?” he bites back, and also snatches his hands back to escape the onslaught of feelings that wash over him. You don’t sit up this time, and from the tilt of your head, you’re considering your answer for a while before you speak out.

“Do you like me, Megumi?” Fuck. His room seems to collapse in on itself. Or, maybe it’s his body— because he gets a little more short of breath, and his thoughts short circuit as his mouth stupidly drops open. He’s choked up for long enough that he has to clear his voice to try an answer, and even then, he gets stuck. You’re studying him so closely it must show. The blaring warmth that fills him up and makes his ears bright red. After another second, your eyes seem to dim slightly, as you push your cheek to your shoulder, opening yourself up to even more attacks. “Love y’, ‘gumi.”

He straightens up with enough tightness in his chest to choke him, makes his eyes sting and his head blare cold, painful warnings— he grabs some of the glasses from the small table beside him, launches it straight into the wall until it shatters into a million pieces upon impact. The loud clang doesn’t do anything to settle his anger, where he fists his hands into his hair and pulls, in hopes the worry will somehow vanish.

“Why do you always have to be such a hero?” he hisses, even though you can’t answer now, “wouldn’t it have been enough to just stay here with me?!” He tilts your face to his and drops his lips to yours, and that familiar softness is enough to have him clenching his eyes shut again against the tears. He kisses you until your mouth opens a bit, then slides his tongue up against yours and grips your shoulders, pulling your limp body towards him more. “I’ll be better to you.” He pleads. You don’t move, and the breaths going over his cheeks are so shallow.

But he can’t stop himself from tangling your tongue with his, licking into your mouth and chasing the warmth until he runs out of breath. You’re so fucking pretty still. He kisses you again, bumping teeth, and grips your hip hard as he lays over you a little more, chest to chest and feeling it brush against him with each soft pant he lets out, each gravelly moan. It doesn’t hurt so much to brush his tongue against yours, to swallow your taste on his tongue until his lips numb — but while it doesn’t ache, it’s also not enough. Before he’s able to think about the morality of his actions, his thumbs are hooking under your shirt and pushing it up, over your soft belly and ribcage all the way up until it’s over your tits, where his lips travel to as soon as the skin’s exposed. You’re so soft still, too.

He’s not sure what he’s doing other than leaving messy, open mouth kisses onto you, kneading your skin between his hands as all the warmth in his body pools into his groin. Your tits are sucked into his mouth, one then the other, as he rubs his face into the doughy skin, then he’s pulling and pinching at your tits like he knows makes you whimper. The sound’s burned into his working memory, and it drives him on to run his face down your soft body to the part where your thighs meet. The skin just above your skirt of the softest, warmest, and he full on moans when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he reaches down to grab himself.

Normally you’d be blinking up at him now, sending him that little look with grabby hands, ready to wrap your puffy lips around him— it’s different when it’s his hand screwed around himself and not even moving yet. he can’t, or he’ll cum in his pants, and he’s not going to waste his cum like that when your warm pussy’s right before him. He’s shaky when he pushes the fabric up, flipping it over your tummy; and groans again when he licks down your panties and mouths at the seat of it. It tastes so much like you his eyes roll back, and his knees give a little, while more precum leaks out of him and into his pants.

He frees his hands momentarily to slide you to the edge of the metallic table, two hands gripping your butt and squeezing, then hooking his finger in your panties to just pull them aside. He doesn’t care about the chaffing he’ll have. Not even a second thought when your little pussy is in front of him, and he pushes his mouth to you for some open mouthed kisses, down to your pussy and back up. Wrapping his mouth around your clit, he sucks hard, and rubs the bud a few times with his tongue. He swears your breathing goes more pitched and heavier when he does, when his fingers trail down your puffier lips to rub the bit of wetness around.

His cock’s painfully hard in his pants, and after a few more times licking you up and down so that your slick covers the entire bottom half of his face, he pushes the zipper down and then takes himself out to watch how red and sore the head of his cock already is, oozing pre and coating both his boxers and his shaft. He spits into his hand to give himself a few tight-wrung pumps, tighter than he likes normally- if he doesn’t, he’ll spill all over your cute, little pussy. He pushes his fingertips inside your now wetter cunt, watching it wink and beg for something to fill, and groans when one finger slides in with ease.

Your soft walls are still soft and hot around him, giving mean licks over your clit again and again in a way that would normally overstimulate you too easily. You don’t whimper or whine now, take his finger nice and sweet inside your squelching, gooey walls, only making a little noise when he slides in a second and he can feel the slight bit of stretching you need. He’s dripping onto the table now, balls tight and heavy - imagines how you moan and look when you’re sucking on them and you smack your lips with each open mouthed kiss or lick. You between his legs is always enough to have his knees giving, and it’s no different now, he has to hold himself up against you before he thinks better of it.

You’re slid back on the table too easily, making room for him when he pushes one of your legs aside— and let out a slight gasp when he hoists himself over your body. He just wants you. So bad. It’s not so embarrassing when you’re not awake to see how fucking crazy he looks, flushed, cock twitching between his legs as he strains to kiss you again, lick over your tongue for more of your taste, and breathes your name. “Baby, fuck- I need to be inside you.” He wants to hide away in your safety forever. A crystalline, fucked up thought springs up in his mind for just a second, but he banishes that with a few blinks.

Instead he lines himself up over your hot, needy pussy and pushes inside just the head at first, grunting tightly at the softness that envelops him. His whole body shudders as he pushes in deeper, feeling that pit in his stomach expand with each inch that he goes deeper, tangles his fingers with yours when he bottoms out and fills you up so well. You’re curled into his touch, and he kisses you, his thoughts blanking as he pulls back, and snaps his hips back inside you. You’re hot and wet and it feels so fucking good, clenching your hand inside his larger one. It’s not fair. He’s losing his mind, and you’re always the end of him.

His cock rubs against your swollen insides with rough, imprecise strokes — he doesn’t mean to, it’s just that trying to focus on anything other than the heat as he slides in and out of your tight pussy is too much. You’re too much; you’re haunting him even now. He kisses down your face to your neck, sucks on your skin and bites down hard enough to make a serious mark, wanting to hear you cry. Normally, you’d cry out his name so pretty, dig your nails into his back until he’s letting you go and grinding back on his cock, but you can’t do that now. His cockhead bumps your spot each time he fucks himself into you further, but it’s not enough.

It’s never been enough. He wants to be closer to you, and that horrible image that was launched into his head creeps back up before his eyes, bloody and horrible. Maybe he always told himself that he hated you because - no matter how much he fought, he would never be able to stomach actually hurting you as much as it hurts him. But now, withering on top of you as his cock thumps with how much blood rushes south, everything else falls away. He wants to claw and bite and carve his way to your insides and make you pay just a little for his sins. His body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, thighs pumping blood through his body to his lungs, his gut, his cock.

He pulls out of you to kiss down your tits and over your covered ribs, thumbing over the head of his cock and gliding it over your puffy clit, your wet pussy lips and flicking it just in and out of your drooling cunt— before he puts a sloppy few kisses there too, tongue coated in slick. The blood pumps through his head so hard he feels dizzy, pounding behind his eyes as the heat of your cunt overwhelms him entirely. It’s too hard to stay sane -he’s never felt less sane than now- when you’re laying below him like this, ready to leave him all alone. You wormed your way into his heart when he didn’t want it, and now, now that’s all about to end.

His mouth is dry, but he’s drooling as he grips your thigh and kneads the doughy skin of your tummy— looking so soft and warm and perfectly shaped for him. He wants -needs, needs it, to feel you swallow him, ruin him- to cut you open and eat your insides out with the sick force of what he’s feeling right now— he groans your name again, desperately trying and failing to get it out of his head— the more he tries the better it feels to think it. Despite having his fist around the base of his cock, stings of white shoot over your body as he crumples in on himself and paints you with his cum. He’s still hard though, painfully so, and as soon as he’s done cumming he can already feel the building urge to do it again, trailing his shaking fingers down to your clenching pussy and rubbing your clit until your body starts wiggling back just a little too.

Megumi wants to go, bury this urge down and never think of it again. He really does— but it’s like he’s possessed, drooling over your body and flicking his cock in and out of your pussy without sliding back in. He might’ve had it wrong this whole time, but if this is love - God, he loves you, he loves, loves, loves you so much he’s not ever going to have enough. Can’t ever say goodbye, not when his entire soul’s been bound to yours, has been rotted away into nothing like this. There’s only you, and him; and he can’t get close enough to make this fucking feeling go away.

With black spots swimming over his vision, he’s not sure what he’s doing until he’s knelt on the floor and shards of glass cut his knees open through his pants; he doesn’t feel it - just trembles as he gets one of the larger shards and crawls back to you, right between your plush thighs as he kisses your face over and over until he feels like he’ll be sick. “Forgive me when you wake up, baby.” It doesn’t really sound like him anymore, faint and messy as he ruts his cock against the inside of your thigh and stares at your face for a little longer. He paws at your tummy again, maybe it’s the lack of oxygen - he feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in ages - or the fact that all his blood is cleary in his swollen cock, hot and heavy.

He kisses you again, pants against your chest as he watches between your two bodies as one arm keeps him up, and the other drags the shard of glass below your belly button just hard enough to create a little cut. He just- just wants to be a little closer, you’ll let him, you’ll let him- he’s been so fucking mean to you and if he can just do this, he’ll make it up to you. Specks of blood well up that he swipes his thumb through to slide it into his mouth, get used to the taste of copper on his tongue. Sometimes he bites your lip hard enough to split it, and you tear up and whine, tangle your fingers in his hair.

He could cum on the spot when you yank like that, but the taste now isn’t enough. As he pushes the shard of glass into your skin harder, watching one layer make way for another, tougher tissue that still gives when he grids down a little- he waits for the moment where he feels bad, regrets and walks it all back- but the feeling doesn’t come. Your body looks so pretty like this, robbed of your innocence by his hands; and he doesn’t wanna cum yet, fuck. The adrenaline swimming in his head is pounding too hard to feel anything other than love for you, and the pulling, almost unbearable sensation of wanting to slide back into you. The blood pools around the hole as he slides along, hearing the skin squelch and snap, building a sweat along his neck and collar. Maybe you’d lick it up if you were awake.

The blood runs, covers his entire fist that’s wrapped tight around the glass, it creates little rivers that you’ll both be laying in soon. He coughs, before kissing you below your jaw, feeling the weak pulse beneath his lips— and righting himself to look at his work with a better angle, groaning. There’s both more blood and less than he expected, pooling in your belly button, all over your pretty pussy, his thighs and hands- his cock not yet. He drops the glass aside as he thumbs over the wound and sure enough- he’s cut through fat and muscle and sinew without too much struggle, because you’re soft all over.

He pushes the fleshy gash open more, thumbs over the clean cut he made with a strange sort of fascination before the hot, hot blood gets to be too much for his curiosity and he leans in to lick from your clit up, up, up until his tongue reaches the raised, tight skin— what has he done, what’s he doing, this, this isn’t — he can’t stand the heat that’s coming out of you for long, and it smells, but that isn’t what sticks with him right now. He’s never wanted to be closer. The gaping pouch of your belly’s drooling red for him. The head of his cock twitches when he feels the hot of your stomach coating him in blood, and coating you in turn. The cum from before’s all but washed away, but he’s sure he can give you another couple orgasms before he tuckers out.

He’s strung so high all of this feels like a dream, like his head is about to roll off of his neck; he pushes in with a garbled sort of sound that comes from deep, deep inside him. The skin doesn’t wanna give way at first, but he manages to push back hard enough before suddenly he’s inside, and it’s like nothing else. The pressure of a slab of skin taking him where it’s not meant to go— bleeding and whining out like this, it’s euphoric. He’s able to see his cock’s outline glide into you until it’s bulging your stomach, squelching and sucking him back in; feels like you’re taking him deeper than ever, letting him fuck his cock so deep he’ll hit your ribs soon. You’re so fucking beautiful, even like this, getting coated and letting him fuck it.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re dying, but the peace that washes him entirely clean might be close; he grinds his hips into you hard enough to rock your body under him as he laces your hands again. Both, this time, just chasing after an end that seems like it’ll never come.

He feels infinite. Your blood’s so hot it’s almost painful, and the tightness of the hole he carved into you is entirely different from your pussy, pushing back against him like you’re begging him to get out. He imagines you’d beg so pretty- but he’s inside you, finally inside and deeper than anyone’s ever been. He’s able to watch his cock blow up your belly and make it hollow when he pulls back, and God- he should feel worse than he does. He could swallow you whole if you’d let him. The feeling has him shuddering over you as he pants your name, makes your tits brush over his chest- and his balls smack against the smooth stretch of skin until he can’t feel his feet any longer.

Now he’s got you dirtied, he wants to ruin you too, leave you a mangled mess of flesh and swallow every last bit of you until he never forgets the taste. But that would require he’d stop fucking his hot cock into your bloody, little pouch, and that won’t happen. He’s panting, sweat running down his back from the effort, and his groin starts to feel a little raw too. He might’ve been going for hours by now, licking your mouth clean from his drool only to dirty you again. The head of his cock feels fucked raw inside you, and his thighs shake before his shoulders square over you.

Megumi speeds up his pace fucking into your guts -actually- until he clenches every muscle, is overcome again and reaches heaven inside you, spurting creamy white into the pouch he’s created for himself; “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his hand has to twist into an uncomfortable position to reach for your clit, but he wildly does it anyway— cramping up, until he’s collapsing on top of you and stilling inside. The stench of blood makes the entire room smell, as he thumbs over the side of your blood-coated thigh with one hand, and feels the shaking all the way up and down his spine. He pulls out so slowly, pumping the last bits of cum out with a throaty moan, before he slides off the table onto awfully shaky legs.

If he was any more lucid, he’d think twice before leaning by your side to kiss your eyes, your nose, your pouty lips as the tears that must’ve been building for a while run down your temple— and suppresses the need to actually eat you- for now, he rubs a softer hand over your exposed tummy, before folding the now blood-drenched fabric of your skirt back down to hide your puffy pussy, lest he be tempted again. He whispers his love into your ears, nuzzles at your hairline until the feeling comes back to his hands and feet and he tucks his spent cock back into his boxers, and goes about cleaning the mess he made of the floor.

It’s only when an uncomfortable scratchy sound comes that he notices the burning heat on his neck, the dried sweat painfully sticky— and straightens up beside you when you start to shake again. Immediately his worry is sky high. Even in the gross air of mixed blood and cum and the scent of sex soaking everything, his mind is just clear enough to hold your head when you thrash around a few times, and your chest rises wildly up and down. Then before his very eyes, the damage he’d done upon you slowly starts to stitch itself together, like weaving threads. Lacing you up until every bit of muscle, fat, and skin restores to it’s pristine glory before he ever touched you, with a little puff of cursed energy.

He bites his lip hard when the shaking stops, and your back lands back onto the metal with a soft clang. The noise is louder now it’s quiet in the room. Megumi waits for a bit longer before he brushes the hair from your face, and doesn't mind it that he’s leaving tracks. The darkness is filled with his tense breathing, and then — every sound at once. Your eyes shoot open with a cry, sobbing out like a baby for a few painful seconds. But then spot him thumbing your tears away devoted like he is -though he won’t admit it to you, and you let out a noise of pure relief.

It’s almost poetic, when you crash back into his arms and this time, he lets your arms wind around his waist.

#kinktober #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi smut #fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw.dark content #tw.somno #tw.noncon #tw.wound fucking #tw.blood

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ann-ann-alan · 2 months

Text

Angel Dust x Satan!M!Reader

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Word count: ~1.6K

TW: Talk about what Valentino has done to Angel Dust. Angel and Val's extremely toxic relationship.

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Angel's eyes flapped open slowly as the light shined through the curtains of his room at the hotel. For once in his afterlife he felt well rested. He felt so safe and warm cuddling up to his new boyfriend. If only Valentino could be this nice. Valentino. Angel's mind began racing at the thought of his cruel boss, a man that had made him suffer so much, and he would have to go back to him today. Every day until the end of time, or until Angel died. Again.

"Stop thinking about Val." You said as you pat the top of your boyfriend's head. "He's not here. I am. You're safe with me, you know that right?" Angel felt your hands on his face, lightly caressing him, so soft, so caring. "Of course I trust you."

"Good" You kissed him deeply as you swiftly picked him up bridal style. He let out a little squeak at your actions. "Don't worry my little divine being, I won't drop you."

You suddenly turned into a smaller man. A man named Saturn. That's the fake name you had gone for as it was kind of close to your real one. No one could know you were Satan. What would happen if it was revealed that the most powerful of hells beings, second only to Lucifer himself, was staying at a hotel for redemption and was dating a sinner? Hell would be chaos, well, more than it already is anyway.

"I love Saturn and all, but I really wish I could see your real face more often." Angel presses a light kiss to your cheek. "I do too honey, I really wish I could be myself but you know what could happen if people found out about us. It could get real dangerous."

----------------->

You and Angel walked down the steps of the hotel towards the bar where Husk was cleaning glasses.

You and Angel sat on the stools at the bar. As he was rabbling on you couldn't stop yourself from staring at him. His pretty face, beautiful hair, big eyes, and that cute little chest fluff. He was perfect. If only you could truly be with him.

Your train of thought gets interrupted by Angel's phone going off. "Guess I got to get to work." He stared down at his phone sadly, defeated. "Bye Sweetums." He kisses your forehead and heads for the door.

"You really hate Val don't you?" Husk utters, wiping a shot glass down. "What makes you say that?" "Your claws are out and you're ruining my counter." You look down to see both your hands ripping into the counters wood. "Oh sorry. I just- I hate him." Your eyes glowed red. You wished you could rip the head off that disgusting moth. There's nothing wrong with lust (you are good friends with Asmodeus) as long as it's consensual. And Val was anything but.

"Why do you care so much? Angel's just a fling." Husk said starring at your enraged state. "What no! I- well- I- I love him ok?! And I can't keep seeing Val rip my boyfriend apart over and over again!" You love him. You just said it. Husk stared at you with a knowing smirk. "Look, I get you love him and you want to keep him safe but there ain't nothing you can do about a soul contract. He's stuck with Val. Forever." Husk frowned, of course he knew about deals with souls, he made one.

Suddenly an idea comes into your brain. "But what if the contract was broken?" Husk looked at you strangely. "There ain't no way to break a soul contract." "But what is they could be? Would that free him? Would he truly be safe?" You muttered more to yourself then Husk. "Well yeah? But like I said, there ain't no wa-" You put your hand over his mouth. "But what if I could do it? What if I could break the contract?"

"You can't."

"But what if I could?"

"You can't"

"But what if I could?"

"You ca- YOU CAN NOT! Soul contracts don't just break, they just don't. It's better to just give up now."

You could do it. I mean, you're LITERAL SATAN. YOU are the contractor. All soul contracts get run by you. That's your job. You remember when you first came across Angel's contract. You thought nothing of it, just another hopeless sinner who needed a job. Just another hopeless sinner you were now deeply in love with. You could do it. If Valentino willingly showed you Angel's contract, it was over. One touch and the contract would be gone, reduced to ashes and Angel would be free. But everyone would know who you really are. Only one person could break contracts, only one. Satan. Your reputation would be tarnished.

But you would do ANYTHING for the one you love.

----------------->

Angel was tired, he had already filmed three intense scenes and Val only wanted more, just like always.

"Alright my little Angel, you'll be filming one more scene and then you'll come to my office ok?"

Oh god not his office, never his office. Angel couldn't count the amount of unhappy memories he's had in that office. Angel wanted his boyfriend, his real boyfriend, not Val.

"Is there a problem Angel Dust?" Val sneered. "No, no, not at all Val, everything's fine." "Alright then, why wait? Let's go to my office now."

Panic hit Angel like a truck. "Wait now?! I thought I had another scene to film?!" Angel was almost hyperventilating. He couldn't go in there with Val, he couldn't. Not again.

"You said there was no problem. Let's GO!" Val roughly grabs Angels arm and yanks it towards him. "You better behave Ang, you wouldn't want to hurt my feelings would you?" Val looked at him with a disturbing smile. Angel looked into those bright red bug eyes, he was scared, really scared. Scared just like he was when Val made that deal with him.

"Excuse me." Val and Angel looked to the side and found you standing there. "Sata-Saturn what are you doing here?" Angel says. "You know this guy?" Val released Angels wrist and walked towards you. "I'm Val, well you definitely already know me so... Angel said your name was what, Saturn? That's quite a strange name for a sinner." Val held his hand out for you to shake, you just starred at it with your arms crossed. "Well, um, you must be here for a job right? Angel must of told you about me!" Val said as he retracted his hand. "I actually came here because I wanted to take my boyfriend back home."

"What in the hell are you doing?!" Angel whispered to you as he held your arm, almost trying to hide from Val. Valentino noticed this. "Your HIS boyfriend? MY Angels boyfriend? That's a funny joke." Val said almost as a threat, 'it better be a joke.'

"Oh it's no joke. And Angel isn't yours." You stood protectively in front of him. "Oh! But he is. He is MINE. FOREVER." Val says, starting to get angry.

"Baby, you should go..." Angel said from behind you, clutching the back of your shirt with all his hands.

"Yeah, you should listen to him Saturn." Val smirked down at you.

"Let me see it." You utter, holding your hand out in front of you.

"See what?" Val crosses his arms and sneers at you. Looking at you up and down. Judging.

"Let me see the contract that has Angel tied to you. One look at it and I'll leave you alone, forever. You have my word."

Val looks at you suspiciously. "Sure, whatever." He makes the contract apear right in front of you.

You reach out for it and pretend to read over it, but all you could really stare at was the signature at the bottom.

"Well?! Are you happy know? LEAVE!" Val says. He was getting angry. His little play thing had a boyfriend? Who was interrupting his job? What a little BRAT!

"Actually.... I was thinking something a little.... different." Suddenly the contract set ablaze in blue fire, the paper disintegrating.

"WHAT?!?" Val stepped back. HOW?! How was that possible?! How could you do tha- "You're not REALLY named Saturn are you?"

Val could barely get that sentence out before you pushed him to the ground. "You are a pest Valentino. And I'm not afraid to CRUSH you."

Your eyes turned beep red, you gained back your height, long red horns like a ram came out of your head.

"YOU stay AWAY from MY BOYFRIEND! If I EVER see you near him again, you will see the full strength of wrath, you disgusting bug!"

Val stares at you in fear, laying on his elbows, tying to crawl away from you.

"Whoa, whoa! Don't kill 'im baby!" Angel set his hand on your shoulder. Looking back at him all you could see was the man you loved. The FREE man you loved.

"Lets get out of here."

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"You sure that was a good idea? People know who you are now." Angel said, cuddling into your side as you both sat on the hill of the Hazbin Hotel, looking over the rest of hell.

"That's ok with me. You mean more to me than some stupid reputation I barely cared about in the first place." You pressed both your hands to the sides of his face. "No matter what happens I will always be there with you. Through Earth, Hell, Hay! Even heaven if Charlie's plan works out!" You plant a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I love you for eternity my darling."

"I love you too big guy."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #angel dust #x reader #x satan!reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x oc #angel dust x reader #angel dust x male reader

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pink-sparkly-witch · 6 months

Text

All She Wants, Part Three (Finale)

Summary: Dean’s experience with the wrong hormone suppressants makes him feral. The only person who can get him out of it and save his life is Y/N, the omega he had been mating with for years until she left six months ago. Without a claim and with no prospects of Dean ever giving her one, Y/N finally had enough and broke the bond they’d forged in their years together and left him, but with Sam now begging her to go to Dean and save his life, will she go, or will she leave the green-eyed alpha to his biological fate?

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Female Omega!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Alpha Gone Feral for @j3bingo

Warnings: tw: dub con claiming, omegaverse, A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, language, ruts, feral alpha, agitation, aggression, smut, rough sex, biting, oral sex (f rec), fingering, p in v sex, hair pulling, heavy angst, aftercare, fluff

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Here we go… the super angsty finale of this alpha!Dean mini-series! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

You can catch up here!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

Y/N’S POV

The knocking on your motel room door startles you, and you grab your gun from the waistband of your jeans and cautiously step towards the door. Flicking the safety off, you place the barrel onto the wood and cautiously open it just enough to see who’s on the other side.

“Sam? Cas?” you gasp, throwing the door open wider.

“You should be more careful, Y/N. We could be demons or shapeshifters or any other kind of monster,” Cas speaks first, and you blink at him, amused, as always, by his directness.

“Nice to see you, too, Cas,” you smirk, opening the door wider to let them in.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam says as he leans down to hug you. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Sam,” you smile as you close the door behind them. You know whatever this unplanned visit is, it’s about Dean.

“You seem healthy,” Cas states, tilting his head to the side and frowning as if searching for something. “And yet—”

“So!” Sam interrupts quickly. “How have you been?”

“Fine…” You narrow your eyes at the alpha’s strange behaviour. “This isn’t a social visit, is it?” You finally ask.

“No,” Cas confirms, and you don’t know if you’re glad he’ll get straight to the point or if you’d prefer Sam to dance around it all a little more.

“Dean.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement. You knew from the way your stomach dropped the second you saw them that this wasn’t a good news visit.

“I asked Cas to find you,” Sam said softly.

You and the younger Winchester have stayed in touch since you left the bunker, but you agreed you wouldn’t tell him where you were, and he wouldn’t ask. It was one thing for Dean to find out they were talking, but it’d be another entirely if he knew Sam knew where she was.

“What happened?” Your mind goes to the worst possible scenario, and you try to fight the rising nausea.

“Dean has been taking store bought suppressants,” Sam says, and you feel your blood boil.

“What? Why? Why would he be so goddamn stupid? Did he know what they’d do to an alpha in his situation?” you fume at the men as you pace the threadbare carpet.

“No. He knew they weren’t suitable long-term, but the side effects he experienced weren’t typical,” Cas answered.

“I thought it was a mix of the drugs and rejection sickness and that it’d ease over time,” Sam says calmly and quietly. “But I think he suffered some kind of chemical reaction to them, and by the time I found out what he was taking, it was too late.”

“Too late? Sam, what are you saying?” You’re terrified of what he’s so anxious to tell you.

“He’s feral, Y/N,” Cas finally puts you out of your misery, and while it’s bad news, it’s not the worst thing they could’ve told you. “But I don’t understand why you are not.”

It’s not an accusation. The angel is just curious about alphas who mate with but don’t claim omegas. To his literal knowledge, an alpha finds an omega, they mate, there’s a claim, an unbreakable bond, and pups. Your situation with Dean had always intrigued the celestial being.

“Because I’ve been taking the suppressants I should. Prescribed by a doctor. Why didn’t he do the same thing?” Contrary to the angel’s question, yours is accusatory as you look between Sam and Cas.

“You know what he’s like, Y/N. He doesn’t talk about these things, and I didn’t know until a few days ago. He’s been overcome with guilt for how he treated you, and I think…” Sam trails off, noticing from the look on your face that you know what he was alluding to.

“You think this is some kind of self-sacrifice?” you ask in disbelief. Dean is well known for his self-depreciation, and it’s something you’ve seen and heard from him many times, but this? “No… No, I don’t believe that. Why would he put himself through that just to go feral anyway? Why not just lie down and let it happen on its own?”

“You really want me to answer that?” Sam asks, and you frown.

“Sam, you can’t be serious! Dean is not doing this to punish himself for hurting me. There’s no way,” you argue, but you know the green-eyed alpha better than he knows himself. It does sound like something he’d do to himself—some kind of fucked up repentance for his behaviour.

Sam only shrugs, and you sigh, knowing you’ve both come to the same conclusion.

“So, what? You want me to go to him? Get him out of this mess?”

“You’re his mate. Only you can get him back from this,” Cas says, and you laugh bitterly, taking the angel by surprise.

“I bet Dean loves that!” you scoff. “Anytime I told him that like it or not, we’re mates, he shot me down in flames!”

“I know he hurt you, and I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, and Dean knows it too. He told me not to look for you. That he doesn’t deserve your help, but I’m asking you to think about it. Please?”

“I don’t know, Sam. If I go to him, you know what it means, right?” you check, not convinced either of them fully understand what they’re asking of you.

“I do,” Sam responds.

“And you know it’s pretty much a done deal that he’ll claim me in his feral haze? And then when he comes to, he’ll regret it and reject me? You’re asking me to sacrifice myself for him? Because I won’t survive his rejection, you both know that, right?”

“He’d never reject you, Y/N,” Cas confirms what you know in your heart, but it brings no comfort.

“Oh, because a forced claim and being stuck with someone who doesn’t want me is a better fate than dying from rejection!”

“He does want you. He loves you. He just can’t—” Sam starts, but you interrupt with a scoff.

“Give me what I want. I know, Sam. He’s told me that so many times it’s imprinted in my memory!” You huff, quickening your pacing.

You want to say no. You want to protect yourself and your fragile heart that’s still trying to heal, but you know if you were the feral one, Dean would already be here, doing everything he could to get you through it—even claiming you just so you’d survive.

He doesn’t deserve to die, and yet, you don’t deserve to be someone’s mistake, but you can’t see any other option. If you don’t go to him, he’ll die. If you go to him, and he doesn’t reject you, you’ll be miserable, but you’ll both be alive.

“Fuck!” you yell in frustration. Once again, you feel that self-loathing that only Dean seems able to bring out of you. You hate yourself because you still love him even after everything, and you’d sacrifice everything to save him.

“Where is he?”

Walking up to the secluded cabin, you shiver at the deathly silence surrounding you. As if being this deep in the woods isn’t ominous enough, there isn’t even a bird chirping or an insect buzzing in the heavy air.

You’re so deep in the woods that the midday sun can’t even breach the trees. You drove as close as you could, but you’d had to abandon your car about a mile back. This is probably the safest house Bobby had ever found, and you have to admire Dean for choosing this one to hide out in.

Sam had given you the key. At first, you’d been shocked he’d lock Dean in with no way to escape, but you knew feral alphas aren’t to be taken lightly. There had been cases of ferals going on murder sprees, and the green-eyed hunter would never risk putting people in any kind of danger.

“Dean?” you call out as you knock on the door. “It’s Y/N. Sam found me. He said you need my help.” With no response, you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for being too late, and put the key in the lock.

Pushing the door open slowly, the sour smell of Dean’s feral rut slams into you, and immediately your body begins to respond to the distressed alpha. Your skin tingles, heat floods your veins, and slick pools at your entrance. You’ve never been more grateful for a heat to come on as you are now. If it didn’t, Dean could seriously hurt or even kill you trying to get himself out of this.

“Omega,” Dean growls from the doorway of the bedroom and with one look at his bloodshot eyes, you know there’s little to no humanity in him right now.

“Alpha,” you whimper and bow your head in submission.

“Mine,” he groans in front of you, and you jump, having not heard him move across the room.

Dean buries his head in your neck and inhales your scent, gasping as if he’d been suffocating, and your scent is his oxygen.

“My ‘mega,” Dean snarls and slams you against the wooden door. You whimper at the pain and remind yourself not to fight. If you fight, things could get ugly.

Pawing at your jeans, he tries to undo them, but in his desperation to get at you, he can’t grasp the little brass button and punches the wall next to your head in frustration.

“Hey,” you purr, placing a hand on his cheek and smiling as he leans into your touch, “It’s okay, Alpha. Let me.”

Loosening the button and pulling the zipper down, you kick off your shoes, slide the denim from your legs and step out of them. Moving to your shirt, you begin pulling at the material when Dean slaps your hands away.

“No!” he growls. “Mine.”

Dean isn’t gentle when he claws at your shirt, grabbing the neckline with both hands and ripping the cotton from your body. The groan that rumbles from his belly when your lace-covered breasts are exposed to his gaze has slick soaking through your underwear.

He wastes no time placing his lips on the tops of your breasts, biting and sucking the sensitive skin, marking you in a way he never has before. Dean pulls the cups of your bra down and quickly finds a hard nipple, and you groan from his overzealous assault.

You whine as the alpha pulls away from you, but before you can complain further, Dean lifts you on his shoulder and carries you to the bedroom.

“Strip,” he orders as he places you back on your feet, and you don’t dare disobey or take your time removing your bra and panties.

“Good girl,” he praises as he takes his clothes off, and you wonder if just being here is making him a little less feral. “Get on the bed, Omega.”

Again, you don’t dare take your time and quickly crawl onto the bed and wait for his next instruction. Dean kneels at the bottom of the bed, pulls you down by your ankles, and pushes your knees down to the mattress.

“Mine,” he growls as the scent of your slick reaches him, and he lowers his head between your legs. He’s not gentle, anything but, and his longer stubble scratches and jabs at your soft, sensitive skin. It’s sore, yet you quickly fall apart on his mouth.

Before you fully come down from your high, Dean’s fingers are inside you, and he’s sucking and biting his way up your body. When this is over, your skin will be an interesting spectrum of colour; you can already see patches of red on your breasts from earlier, and Dean’s not done with them yet as he goes back to sucking and biting your nipples.

As your forced heat takes over, the pain from Dean’s bites and rough hands ease, and all you can feel and hear now is desire and pleasure and growls and snarls, and Dean, mumbling mine over and over again while his teeth nip at your neck.

“Present, Omega,” Dean growls as he pulls back from your body just enough to let you turn around. You crawl further up the bed and lean forward onto your elbows. You unintentionally wiggle your ass as you get comfortable in your new position, making Dean growl deeply and spank your round cheeks.

You feel his hands slide up your thighs and over your ass. His touch soothes and cools your heated skin. When he finally slams into your slick, aching pussy, it’s hard, rough, and deliciously painful.

Dean is fully feral, and there’ll be no stopping him until he comes out of the rut in five or six days. You know it won’t be pretty, and you won’t come out of this unscathed. At least your heat is making you feel like a wanton whore.

As your humanity is overtaken by omega, much like Dean’s is with alpha, your last thought is being grateful for being in a cabin in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere.

It’s been six days, and Dean still pounds into you like there’s no tomorrow. Your heat is starting to wane, but hasn’t subsided so much that you won’t still be pliable under his hands. Still, at least the heat fog is beginning to lift, and you hope it’s a sign that Dean’s rut is finally ending.

It took four knots to get him out of his feral state, but his rut is intense, and he’s insatiable. You suppose the combination of suppressants and being feral will do that to an alpha.

“‘Mega,” Dean grunts as his hand slides up your spine and grips your neck. “So good for me, baby girl.”

His praise makes you purr, and you feel his hand slide from your neck into your hair and wrap his fist around it, making your body turn to jelly. Dean tugs your hair, and you’re forced to raise to your knees, your back pressed against his chest, and he pulls your head to the side by your hair, exposing your neck to him.

It’s already black and blue from the gnawing he’s been doing there this past week, but this is different. He’s scenting you and licking your mating gland and whining. Dean loves licking and kissing your neck, but not like this. It feels different. There’s a change in the atmosphere, and his thrusts are brutal and stuttered.

You try to move, try and get him away from you, but he snarls and yanks your hair painfully, keeping a hold of it so you can’t move.

“Dean,” you whimper, and he snarls again at the use of his name, and you know he’s not as far out of this rut as you’d hoped. “Alpha, please,” you beg, but it’s useless. He’s too far gone again. His mouth is sucking on your mating gland, and he’s growling and grunting as his knot swells and catches at your entrance.

“Please don’t do it, Alpha. It’s just the rut. You don’t want this… you don’t want me, please!” you cry. But as his knot slips inside, locking you together, your head falls back on his shoulder, and when his teeth break your skin, you scream your release and lose the little self-control you had earlier.

Coming down from your high, you notice that Dean is still latched onto you, and you can feel blood dripping down your neck. The sudden rush of hormones and pheromones from the claim makes you reach another orgasm, and this time, you take the alpha with you. Grunting and growling, Dean’s release coats your walls, and you let the blackness take over.

When you come to, you’re on your side, and Dean is cleaning and soothing the wound on your neck with gentle licks and soft kisses. You’re still locked together, and every twitch of his cock catches your G-spot and fills your womb with even more of his seed.

A brief thought that he could’ve gotten you pregnant crosses your mind, and you hope the fates aren’t so cruel as to have this be when you get your wish of pups; not like this.

The last week finally catches up with you, and the lullaby of Dean’s whines and whimpers, combined with his soft kisses, lull you into a deep sleep.

The sun’s warmth on your face begins to wake you from sleep. Your muscles feel heavy, and Dean’s lips caress your back and shoulders.

“Morning, Omega,” he rasps behind you, sliding a warm hand over your hip, and a pang of dread settles in your stomach. You’re tired, every muscle in your body is screaming at you, and your pussy is in agony from a week of rough pounding and knots courtesy of the alpha pulling you closer to his body. If he’s still not out of this rut, you don’t think you’ll survive another round.

“Don’t worry,” Dean chuckles. “I’m not feral anymore, and the rut has gone.”

You’re confused, wondering how he knew what you were thinking. You don’t think you groaned. In fact, you’re pretty sure you didn’t even move. Your body is too sore to even tense up.

Then you remember Dean claimed you and that he did it while in a feral rut.

As your whole world comes crashing down around you, you do the one thing you’d rather die than do in front of Dean.

Cry.

DEAN’S POV

Devastation. That’s all he can feel radiating from the omega next to him. When he woke an hour ago, he’d been happier than ever. The second he claimed Y/N, there was a shift, and all felt right in the world.

He thought—naively, he now realises—Y/N would be happy. It’s what she wanted. What she needed, but the sheer anguish from her tells a different story. The worst part of all this is the shame he feels for claiming her without her consent and the knowledge that now, she’s stuck with him whether she wants to be or not.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay,” Dean tries to soothe her and presses his lips to her shoulder. “Y/N, look at me, please?” She remains on her side, facing away from him and crying, and the alpha in him takes over. His omega is in distress, and he needs to fix it. “Omega, look at me!” he growls lowly, and watches as Y/N obeys his order and timidly rolls onto her back.

Dean’s jaw drops, and he’s disgusted with himself as he takes in her abused torso. There are a couple of bites and bruises on her back and shoulders, but it’s nothing compared to what covers her neck, breasts and stomach. There’s so much bruising that barely any skin has been left unblemished. As he scans further down her body, he can see the same damage over the tops of her thighs and between her legs.

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry. I—” Dean can’t finish; he has no words for what he did to her. He immediately gets out of bed and fills the tub with hot water. There’s only so much he can do for her out here in the cabin, but the safe house is stocked with first aid supplies, medication and dry and tinned food.

When the tub is full, he shuts off the water and walks back into the bedroom, seeing Y/N still lying on her back and seemingly void of all emotion. Whether it’s on purpose to shut him out or she’s in shock, Dean’s not sure.

Walking over, Dean lifts her from the bed and carries her into the bathroom. He lowers her into the hot water and bathes her gently, mumbling words of comfort, hoping she can hear him and that she can find it in her to forgive him.

Y/N’S POV

After tenderly bathing you, Dean left you to soak in the warm water a little longer, telling you there were clothes in the wardrobe and that he’d make something to eat.

“Please eat with me, omega. You need to get your strength up, and we need to talk,” Dean had begged before he left, closing the door but not fully so he could still keep an eye on you.

He was right; you do need to talk. And eat. You feel weak and lightheaded and desperately in need of something to take away the pain that’s pulsing through every inch of your body.

When the water has lost its warmth, you climb out and wrap yourself in a towel, avoiding the mirror in the corner. Dean’s reaction earlier is enough for you to know you’ll burst into tears if you see it for yourself. And you can’t bear to see his claim on your neck when it was given under duress.

Pulling clothes from the wardrobe, you choose the softest and biggest things you can find. You know from the smell that the sweats and t-shirt are Dean’s, but you’ve always gotten comfort from his scent, and you suspect you’ll get even more from it now.

Coming out of the bedroom, you follow the noise towards the main part of the cabin and find Dean spooning pasta into bowls in the kitchen.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asks, stopping what he’s doing to give you his full attention.

“Sore,” you chuckle, pulling out a stool. You hiss and wince, the throbbing—and not the good kind—between your legs getting worse for a few seconds as you sit.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean… I hate that I was so rough. That I’ve hurt you,” Dean says as he pushes a bowl and fork towards you.

“You were feral, Dean. It’s not your fault,” you reply, and you mean it. It’s really not his fault.

“It is, though, sweetheart. If I had taken the right suppressants, I wouldn’t have gone feral, and I wouldn’t have claimed you without your consent.”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. I’m just sorry you’re stuck with me,” you smile sadly. “And if you want to leave, I get it. I know I’m not what you want—”

“Would you stop saying that?” Dean interrupts. “I do want you. I have always wanted you. I’m scared that tying you to me will put you in danger.” The desperation rolls from him in waves, and you know he’s telling you the truth. You can feel it. “I want you, Omega. I want this. I don’t regret claiming you. I regret doing it against your will, and if you want to leave me… reject me… It’s what I deserve, and I’ll let you walk out of here right now, but please stop saying that I don’t want you, Y/N. You’re all I want.”

The chemical bond you now share with Dean is overwhelming. He feels more deeply than he ever lets on, and regret over the non-consensual claim is putting it mildly. He’s distraught over it, and his feelings are so strong that you can almost hear the thoughts in his head telling him he’s stupid and he’s fucked things up before it’s really started between you. You can’t take it. You can’t let him think you don’t want this too.

“You’re all I want too, Alpha. The reason I got so upset when I realised you could feel how I felt is because it was a rut claim, and we’d be stuck together and miserable and resentful, and I didn’t want that for either of us, but I could never reject you, Dean. I love you too much.”

The relief that washes over him makes you smile, and because of your new bond, you know he knows every word is true.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t admit it before, and I’m sorry I didn’t give you what you wanted sooner.” Dean slides off his stool and comes to your side with a tube of cream in his hand. “Now, let me see that claim. It needs something on it, sweetheart.”

You tilt your head to the side and pull the neck of the shirt down, exposing the angry, swollen bite mark. Dean gently covers the wound with the medicated cream, and you hiss at the sting.

“Sorry, baby girl.” Dean winces, feeling your discomfort as clearly as you can. “Now, eat and then bed, Omega.”

“Just to sleep, right?” you ask, scrunching up your face and wriggling in your seat at the thought of him going anywhere near your pussy for at least a week. “No sex?”

“No sex,” Dean laughs. “You need to rest, sweetheart, so just lots of cuddles and closeness and bonding and sleep.”

THE END

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567

#j3bingo #omegaverse #a/b/o universe #alpha!dean winchester x omega!reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o

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tadc-ragatha · 6 months

Note

Hello I saw you were taking request! If you want may you please write a x Virus! Reader who always hacks into the code for the character’s favor during missions or simple things like wanting something

I thought it would be a interesting idea and I hope everything is going well for you, remember to eat/ rest if needed!

-⚜️Anon

Circus Crew with a Virus Reader

TW: Mentions of their unstable minds. Lmk if there are any more.

Type: Headcanons

A/N: "Reader's code got messed up during their transition to the digital world, leaving them with the ability to somewhat hack into the digital circus' code in real time." Hi! You were so polite I'm going to do your request first! Thank you for your manners! This one includes Caine, too! As of writing, only the pilot episode has come out. Spoilers. You're the first request I'm answering! Requests open as of posting.

Caine

He treats you like Bubble sometimes to be honest ("you PARASITE!"). Like, he doesn't hate the humans, but nor does he understand them. And you'd be pretty upset if your worked-on projects and activities were wiped from the code without a care. You're probably his least favourite human for this alone.

Legit, he may just consider finding an exit for you. Again, no real "hatred" per se, but he does find your antics extremely annoying. You probably have to make up some lie about the group just working real hard to fix it so he doesn't abstract himself--if that's even possible. But Jax will always ruin it anyway.

Pomni

She's just like "what?" the whole time. I mean, it's bad enough being the newbie in the digital circus, but then being reminded it's really reality for her and it can become unstable? No thank you. She doesn't quite avoid you or anything, but she isn't super keen on the idea that the world could fall apart.

Still, she tries to get you to help her find the exit. Maybe if you interacted with the computer you'd be able to hack into the whole game and get everyone out of the world. Or, maybe there's something you could do in the void that would help. Anything, really.

Otherwise, you're there to get the games finished so she can go and look for a way out herself. Don't get me wrong, she's nice to you and doesn't intend to just use you, but sometimes it might come off that way. Just give her time; she's desperate.

Ragatha

To be honest, I don't think Ragatha would be very keen on having you around. For your abilities, of course, not your personality. I mean, she's nice to Jax of all people, so she's not going to hate you. She just doesn't like it when you end the activities so quickly.

She holds onto the activities like a lifeline. Without them, she'd be left alone with her thoughts and would pretty quickly start to decline. They're also just kind of fun sometimes, too. There's not much to do in the digital world after years of being there.

She is still a little bit envious, though. I mean, Jax gets to almost teleport (seriously was that him running he was so fast), and you get to hack the freaking system. If only she could have those abilities and maybe she's be able to find an exit. Though, that would probably drive her to abstraction.

Jax

Jax is half annoyed, half ecstatic with your abilities. On one hand, having you mess things up for everyone's convenience is a pain. It stops him from being able to complete his pranks when things suddenly change. And if you do things to stop him from being a jerk, he'll be even more annoyed and will probably make it a challenge for himself to see how many times he can successfully target you.

On the other hand, if you're his ally and will help him in his bullying, he's very happy. I hate to say it, but you'd probably mess things up around Kinger at first so he has a bit of a reality crisis and doesn't know what's real. Though, he'd get used to it after a while and it may not work since he's already seen so much.

Still, you two are partners in crime. Since you're able to do almost whatever, it's easy to get away with what you want. Caine is able to stop you, but he still can't control your mind where you're abilities come from. So, he can't shut them off. And this just leads to more and more torment for Caine and the others.

Kinger

To be honest I don't know how Kinger would react. I think he might just be too out of it to even care too much. That, or he's used to it because something similar has happened before. I mean, he's been there the longest; he would've seen some weird things. Maybe someone else with similar abilities came through only to abstract.

If so, he'd warn you a lot about it. Don't get too wrapped up in your "superpowers" of sorts, or else you might start thinking of yourself too highly. And don't become power-hungry, either, lest you want to go insane. He does care about his friends, guys.

Gangle

Gangle is a bit scared, I imagine. When she's lost her comedy mask, anyway. She just wants a sense of stability and comfort in the uncertain and uncharted territory of the digital world. She's also really shy around you, as with anyone. She doesn't talk to you much out of a mixture of social anxiety and also general fear.

She does feel bad for you, though, and tries to check up on you. Her and Ragatha are the most caring out of the group, and knowing that your code has been corrupted must be very stressful. The trade-off of getting cool glitch powers comes at the cost of your protection and memory. You're much more prone to headaches (which you shouldn't have) and other ailments, and Gangle's always there to try and make you feel better.

Otherwise, it'd be very nice for her if you could get Jax to stop being a jerk somehow. Maybe prank him with some weird happenings so he's too scared to do anything? Or just mess with him (whether it be making him super small and punt-able, or making him super slow). She'd feel guilty about it, but she deserves a break.

Zooble

Zooble's so relieved. They hate the activities and being able to get out of them is such a relief. She has more time to do whatever the hell he wants. If you're their friend, you'll walk off and hang out together doing whatever. Honestly, around them you probably just use your powers for convenience like dragging items towards you and whatnot. Nothing like what Jax does.

Zooble will literally be like "where are they" when you're not there to fix things up. In fact, he'll take it as an excuse to leave the activity and go look for you. Though, it'll probably turn into Ragatha coming with her and inviting Gangle to come along too. Jax will follow, then Kinger probably will, and soon the whole group is going anyway. Not exactly what they wanted; they'll probably tell them to leave and take care of whatever's at hand.

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atinyreads · 1 year

Text

Ateez Fic Recommendations by @atinyreads <3

heh I plead guilty for losing count on how many times I’ve read these Aus over and over. I’ve posted a recommendation before so this means this is my second set of favorites that drive me insane lol.

note: pls do support the authors if you've taken interest on any aus i have recommended that they have created, it would be great if their works have more exposure to other readers :D like maybe leave a comment or reblog!

TW/CW: the following recommendations may contain Ateez smut (minors DNI), Ateez yandere themes, Ateez angst, Ateez mafia, and Ateez omegaverse. If you don't like any of these then refrain from reading this post.

Wooyoung: Shadow by @im-657-mv

Hongjoong: City lies by @toikiii

Hongjoong: On the Horizon by @vickylamore

San: Love is like a drug by @vickylamore

Seonghwa: His to protect by @cqndiedcherries

Yeosang: Corpse Groom by @jwying

Seonghwa: Me or the ps5 by @tohokuu

Jongho: Don't do that by @hongjoongscafe

Jongho: Knock it off by @teezertales

Mingi: Late night by @binniesbobastay

San: Yandere Choi San by @im-657-mv -mv

Seonghwa: Little dolly by @stayatiny

San: The blood crown by @foxgangfoxgang

Yunho: Wedding bells by @foxgangfoxgang

Hongjoong: Dance with me by @foxgangfoxgang

Seonghwa: M-mommy by @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

Wooyoung: Sunday Baking by @cas-skz

Yunho: Last defender by @hoonieversed

San: Fire! by @bambikisss

Hongjoong: Crushcrushcrush by @im-whatchamccallit

Seonghwa: Pirate Seonghwa by @ateezmakemeweep

Hongjoong: What could've should've by @star-1117

Seonghwa/Hongjoong: The beguiled by @riboism

Ot8: Christmas blues by @thelargefrye

Ot8: Our goddess, our utopia by @mingis-lightbulb

Mingi: Posion by @atiny-desire

Seonghwa: Kishi Kaisei by @flurrys-creativity

Hongjoong: Say my name by @atiny-desire

Wooyoung: Scream by @atiny-desire

Seonghwa: Gang Au by @fantastic-bby

Hongjoong: Of love and betrayal by @hoonieversed

Ot8: In love and lore by @shadowynn

Hongjoong: Unhinged by @mxxndreams

San: Drinking games by @shyxcherry

Hongjoong: Let me take you away by @ithinkilikeit-reactions

Hongjoong: Sea supersitions by @ithinkilikeit-reactions

Hongjoong: A little something more by @flurrys-creativity

Seonghwa: Unexpected Company by @mia-tiny

Wooyoung: I do love you by @toikiii

Seonghwa: Was it worth it by @headintheclouds-posts

Mingi: Smut reaction by @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

Yunho: Smut reaction by @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

Hongjoong: Dance with me by @foxgangfoxgang

Hongjoong: Pretty by @last-words-ofashootingstar

Yunho, San, Wooyoung: Treasure @honeyhotteoks

Yunho: Tutor boy by @cas-skz

Yunho: Step Brother Yunho x You by @kpop-dungeon-dark

San: The devil above by @kpop-dungeon-dark

Mingi: Sour by @itsbeeble

you know what after i finished listing all my favorites i realized i may have been reading beyond average and i need help lmfao

I WOULD’VE MENTIONED OTHER FICS TOO BUT TUMBLR LIMITED ME TO 50 MENTIONS 👎🏻

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4izawas · 5 months

Note

Omg! Your last Shounya fic was so good! Want more of those, where the reader bonds with shinsou!

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: ngl i’ve kept this lil thought in my pocket for a bit, i love lil shinsou sm. tw for traumatized kids n crying

At first, you don’t really understand why you’re awake. Shouta’s chest is warm against your back, and the room is dark. Rain softly putters against the glass of the window and every so often the deep rumble of thunder fills your ears; it’s soothing, you’ve always loved thunderstorms and they’ve always helped you sleep so deeply ( and likewise with Shouta ), so what had woken you up? You wonder if maybe you had to pee, but you didn’t, then if you were thirsty, but you werent.

And then you hear the crying.

You’re on your feet immediately, tossing the blankets back and ignoring the immediate grumbles and whines from your still-sleeping partner as you make your way to the other bedrooms. Upon instinctively checking, Eri and Izuku are both fine, each still deeply asleep and half-purring along with the sounds of the rain, but the bed you’d set up for the new kitten all those weeks ago was notably empty, and you begin to worry.

I’ll only wake Shouta if I can’t find him, you think to yourself, and you search for over fifteen minutes before you nervously start padding back to the master bedroom to wake said hybrid. The only reason you don’t make it is due to the choked sobs you hear coming from the closet to your left that you’d only glanced in, and after listening for a moment you realize that the kittenboy must have purposefully quieted himself so he wasn’t found.

Regardless, crying so much would make him sick, and even if it didn’t you needed to help him.

Opening the door carefully, you click on the light, pausing as the trembling purple-furred kitten hybrid stares at you with wide, teary eyes from a corner in the back of the closet. “What are you doing in here, sweet boy?” you ask softly, squatting and reaching out for him slowly — though not slowly enough.

“N-No! Go away!” the kittenboy hisses through tears, swiping at you and breaking skin with his small claws. It takes a moment, but when his purple eyes lock on the blood slowly starting to drip down your arm he seemingly realizes what he did and bursts into frightful tears. “No, no, no — I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

“It’s okay-“ you attempt to soothe him fruitlessly as he bawls and pushes himself back farther into the corner he’d found for himself.

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! I’ll be good!” he wails, tears and snot running down his face as he hiccups out his words with his ear pinned back against his head and his fluffy tail clutched tightly in both arms. Every instinct in you seeks to comfort him, but you fear moving will only scare him more.

Thunder booms, and a shrill cry tumbles from his lips anew at the noise as he starts shaking violently, and you realize that the thunderstorm is the cause of the initial fear. Carefully you back out of the room before returning with a thick comforter from the former spare bedroom that had become Shouta’s when he first came home. The blanket was no doubt saturated in his scent, and the kitten visibly calmed a little after you threw it over his shoulders and the weight and smell covered all other stimuli.

You don’t say anything as you slowly crawl beneath it with him, and he’s so absorbed with the simple treasure you’d covered him with that he doesn’t realize that you’re so close until you start gently petting his hair. He jolts then stiffens, but you give no reaction, softly humming a slow song that you’d heard on the radio this morning; you remembered Izuku mentioning that you humming was as close to Shouta’s soothing rumbling he reserved for the little ones as a human could get, so you found no reason not to try it now. Clearly it worked, because after a moment the exhausted kitten hybrid slumps against you completely, still crying and whimpering but notably calmer.

“Better?” you ask softly, stopping your humming for just a moment as your fingers gently comb through his wild hair.

“Y-Yes,” he answers in a whisper. “I’m sorry for scratching you, I didn’t mean to.” You’re about to tell him to not even worry about it when he continues with a whimper, “I’ll appreciate whatever punishment you choose to give me, it’ll help me learn how to be better.” His voice is small, and you find yourself horror-struck as you realize just how deeply his trauma must run.

“You aren’t going to be punished,” you whisper softly, gently pulling him close to you. He looks up at you in teary-eyed confusion, ears flicking to-and-fro as he mulls your words over.

“No punishment?” he asks hesitantly, and you shake your head.

“No, sweet boy. Never.” His bottom lip starts violently trembling, and it takes all of a moment for his repressed emotions to boil over before he’s bawling all over again, burying his face against your chest as you cradle him close in the closet. You rub his back gently, soothingly whispering that everything would be okay and holding him close just like before as he cried and cried.

“No one will ever hurt you again, alright?” you say softly as he sobs, soaking your shirt in tears and snot that doesn't bother you even a little. “Shouta and I? We’re going to take care of you from now on. You’ll never need to fear a human again.”

In an almost wicked moment of irony, he starts calming down the moment thunder booms aggressively and the power pops out, drawing a frightful shriek from the hybrid and triggering him into hiding against you all over again. It takes around a half hour of coaxing before you convince him to leave the closet with you. He insists on keeping the comforter and you allow it with no fuss, and together you pad through the halls and back to bed, a confused chirp leaving his throat as you direct him past the bedroom he was in before. He hesitates as you stop in front of your bedroom door, but after a gentle bit of insistence he steps inside silently, freezing when Shouta grumbles in his sleep and rolls over, the larger hybrid nestling deeper into the mattress.

“C’mon, he won’t wake up right now,” you promise, “He’s a deep sleeper, can’t get enough of it.”

The kitten mumbles something bcm through a tiny tremor that wracks his entire body, but you don’t catch it. Tipping your head to the side reminiscent of the man in your bed when he’d not heard something prompts the boy to repeat himself. “Mad,” he whimpers miserably, “He’ll get mad.”

You smile fondly at him and shake your head in denial. “He won’t be, I promise,” you say, beckoning him closer, and he slowly does as you ask and steps to you. “Hop on in!”

Slowly crawling into bed and under the covers, he keeps a wary eye on Shouta while watching you change shirts from the dirty one to a loose tank top before returning to the bed as well, gently sandwiching him between your partner and yourself as you get cozy. “Sleep now, you’re safe,” you murmur, and after a moment he nestles close to you, one of his tiny cold hands clutching at yours. He stiffens when Shouta rolls over again in his sleep, but you raise no alarm ( knowing the older hybrid was just searching out for your body in his sleep as he did often ) and he relaxes, tensing only once more when Shouta curls around him and throws an arm over both of you, tugging your bodies close protectively as he rumbles in his sleep. Eventually the boy loosens up, and you begin tk doze off when you believe he’s fallen asleep.

“Hitoshi,” you hear a tiny voice say, and you blink into the dark in shock as you wake up fully. He’d never shared his name before when he’d first been brought home by Shouta, and after the experience you had with said man you knew hybrids off the street tended not to share their names with humans until they met them, so you didn’t push it. Shouta didn’t bother to share his name either; you didn’t even know if the man knew it, but you wouldn’t doubt it with how the skinny boy clung to him as best he could.

Now the kitten was giving it freely.

“That’s a lovely name, sweetheart,” you murmur, combing your fingers through his hair again as he presses close to you with a sniffle. “Is it okay if i call you that in front of Eri and Izuku and Shouta?”

“Uh-huh,” he confirms with a nod against you, voice thick from the crying and from growing drowsy. He’s quiet for a moment, then you feel him yawning. “Sleeeeeeepy,” he whines, taking on the toned voice of an overtired child that you’d heard time and time again from Eri and Izuku, and you just hum softly all over again.

“Then sleep, sweet boy. Shouta and I will be here when you wake up.”

#shou_nya.♡#shouta aizawa x reader #cas has mail !!#caspian.anon #tw hybrids

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the-kr8tor · 3 months

Text

Batten Down the Hatches

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, TW panic attack, CW Injury, CW food mentions.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

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CHAPTER 6 >>> CHAPTER 7

With Pavitr’s arm slung over your shoulder and James handing you a glass that smells incredibly strong, your heart has never felt this content in years. You laugh as Yuri wins an arm wrestle round for the third time that day. Everyone cheers, Yuri flexes with a rare wide smile.

It's been a few hours since your daring jump, you can still feel Hobie's hands on yours and the crew clasping your shoulders happily once they finally lifted you up. With their warm welcome and after the whole debacle, Hobie insisted that there should be a celebration for a mission accomplished.

“Someone rum me up!” she yells and you immediately give her your untouched glass. “Oh hell yeah, thank you, wifey!” Yuri winks, already drunk.

“I'm not your wife, Yuri!” You happily yell above the noise.

She gasps dramatically, “oh you wound me!” You shake your head with a smile.

“Yeah, Yuri, she's already taken!” Pav pipes up from your side, shaking your shoulders.

You clasp your hand over his chattering mouth, the crowd guffaws, asking you numerous questions.

“Oi! Who's got you all smitten then?” Two fingers asks.

“Oh look at her smile!” Ned joins in with the teasing.

“Alright, who do I have to fight for your hand?” Yuri has her hands on her hips, a teasing smile on her painted lips.

“No one! Pav's being a little shit!” you wrangle Pav while he tries to wiggle out.

He manages to get out, acting like he's deprived of air. “Isn't it obvious, it's the ca–”

Finn huffs loudly, his large frame casting a shadow over the small table. You sigh, relieved that Finn unintentionally saved you from all the teasing.

Yuri looks him up and down, the alcohol in her veins inflates her ego. With a smug smile on her lips, she sits back down on the stool, laying her elbow down on the table, flexing her hand towards Finn, challenging him for a match.

Everyone quiets down, flicking their eyes between the two.

You never thought you'd see the day, Finn grins, sitting across Yuri. With a loud thump, he copies his opponent’s movement, his large hand dwarfing Yuri's.

A loud cheer erupts, overflowing cups sloshing out, some even jump for joy. You blame the alcohol.

Pav leaves your side, going around to collect bets. The crew coughs up coins, you watch, beaming, nodding along to the light strumming of Ned's well loved guitar.

Backing away from the crowd, you leave everyone to get some air. The throbbing ache in your ankle protests so you lean on the ship's bannister, watching the vast sea waving to you. The afternoon sun bearing down, its warmth a welcome one from the cool sea breeze.

A steaming cup suddenly appears, balancing on the wooden railing. A lithe hand pushes it towards you wordlessly.

“Another olive branch?” You tease, side eyeing Hobie.

“No, I figured you'd want something to drink when you didn't drink the rum.” With his back against the bannister, elbows propped over it, he leans casually, face upwards, basking in the sun. His silver piercings glint in the light, a familiar pendant around his neck.

“Were you watching me? You stalker” taking the cup, you raise it to your smiling lips. Turmeric, you surmise based on the taste. You let the herbal tea soothe your aching ankle.

“I was watching my crew.” Hobie faces you, muscles relaxed, content. “How's the injury?”

“Getting better,” you twist your foot around, testing the pain. There's a dull ache now, the ice from Nellie's helped. “How'd you know about turmeric?” looking at him, you watch as his smile turns into a grin.

“‘m full of surprises I guess.” he throws your own words at you.

You roll your eyes, “You're insufferable, captain.”

“And I, you.” His eyes are soft. Before you know it, Hobie's already walking away.

The roaring laughter gets your attention. Yuri stands on the rickety table, arms up in glee with a look that screams ‘I'm a winner!’ Meanwhile, Finn is standing next to her, visibly worried, holding onto a very drunk Yuri who keeps riling up the crowd with her triumphant yells.

You guess the rum has special properties if Yuri can beat the large Finn at his own game.

The crew parts for Hobie, you'd think he would put a stop to Yuri's rambunctious celebration. Instead, he hops up on the wobbly table, sharing the already small space with Yuri who guffaws loudly, clapping rhythmically.

“Scoundrels!” She yells at the top of her lungs, the crew cheers, matching her energy.

Gwen sidles up next to you wordlessly, shoving you lightly. Giving her a smile, you watch the carriage wreck in front of you.

“May I introduce, Hobie motherfuckin’ Brown!” Yuri drops backwards, making you flinch towards her general direction. Good thing Finn's got her in his strong arms.

Yep, she's properly drunk off her ass.

Hobie takes a glass from someone, raising it up, the crew quiets down. A hush fills the ship, the sound of wood rocking against waves can only be heard above the silence.

“Rapscallions” They urge him on. “ne'er-do-wells!” The cheering gets louder. “Fuckin’ rascals!” He paused, the yells are ear drum bursting. “We finally got the king's swine!” You hear glasses breaking.

Hobie continues, quieting down the entire ship with one clear of his throat. “With the papers we have we finally know where the son of a bitch is sailing to.” His voice shakes from sheer anger and determination. “This time we get the upper hand.” His men hoot and cheer. “We will fight until we get our hands on the bastard that cut half of our crew. This time we get our bloody revenge!”

He downs the entire glass of rum in one drink, swallowing it like water. Meanwhile the rest of the crew follow his lead, gulping their own drinks fervently.

The cheering got so loud your ears started ringing.

You really hope they get the navy captain so that you can find your family who may or may not be up north. Until then, you'll stay with the crew and hope for the best that there'll be minimal injuries incurred during the fight.

—

You can't seem to find sleep despite how tired you were of yesterday’s events. Tossing and rolling in your bed, with a huff, you fling away the blanket. Lacing up your well worn shoes, you open the creaking door quietly.

With only the moonlight as your guide, you walk the familiar hallways, feet carefully avoiding the noisy floorboards.

Entering the library, lighting the oil lamp left on the table, you roam the bookshelves. With the help of the lamp, it illuminates the old spines. But nothing has piqued your interest, finding the titles too dull to keep your attention or too engrossing that you might not fall asleep when you inevitably drown in its pages.

Yawning, you think of another way to help you sleep. Maybe a glass of water might help? Or better yet, a cup of warm tea and biscuits might satiate you.

So you traverse the hallways once again, passing by cabins. Careful not to make any noise or you might face the wrath of a sleep deprived pirate. You know what they say, it's better to tease a drunk pirate rather than wake one from their slumber.

With silent footfalls, you almost jump in your skin when you see the captain himself brewing a pot of something that smells incredibly sweet.

With his back turned away from the door, you're sure you can slink away without him noticing.

“Scuttlebutt,” he half chuckles as the floorboards under you creak while you try to escape. “Want some hot chocolate?”

You groan, defeated. Turning around, he greets you with a smug smile, his eyes showing how fatigued he is but the light is still there, saying otherwise.

“What the hell is hot chocolate?” crossing the space, you lean on the kitchen island, facing Hobie on the other side. “I thought chocolate was supposed to be cold.”

“You're in for a treat then. ‘m guessing you've never had chocolate before?” he takes a clean mug for you, laying it next to his.

“Nope,” you pop the letter p, trying your best not to wipe your heavy eyes. “Chocolate is a luxury few can afford.”

Hobie hums, pouring the hot liquid in each cup.

This is what ambrosia might've smelt like, you thought.

“It's chocolate melted down with hot water or milk. Lucky for you, we got a few bottles of ‘em from one of the families. But we need to consume it fast or it'll go bad quickly.”

He hands you the cup, taking it tentatively, you don't flinch back when he suddenly grabs your hand to hold it when he gets impatient from your apprehensiveness.

“Don't worry, I already gave Pav and the first shift their share so you can drink to your heart's content.”

You look into the swirling brown liquid, the warmth from the cup soothes your nerves. Taking a sip, Hobie watches with crinkling eyes and a smile hidden behind his own mug.

“Holy fuck! Sweet nectar of the Gods!” You say before you take a big gulp, the heat searing your tongue. “Ack!” Spluttering out, Hobie lets out a loud laugh.

“Be careful it's hot” he says in between laughs.

“I know, but it's so good though!” You exclaim, eyes twinkling with mirth.

Hobie chuckles, watching you swallow the liquid down to the last drop.

You sigh, full and happy. “If solid chocolates taste like this then I'm more than ready to raid a merchant ship carrying crates of it.”

Hobie shakes his head. “I've never thought chocolate could make someone a pirate.”

“Not a pirate.” You move to pour yourself a cup. Hobie beats you to it, the sweet drink sloshing inside, filling it to the brim.

“Hmm” he watches you through his lashes.

“You're thinking, that's bad.” You take your cup but Hobie holds it hostage with his hand over the ceramic.

“What are you really doing back here?”

“I couldn't sleep, I just wanted some water.” you move to try and take the mug from him but he moves it further from you.

“There's some outside.”

“Fuck off.” Your hips hit the corner of the kitchen counter harshly as you try to grab your cup sneakily. The mug of precious chocolate scrapes on the counter, making you glare at Hobie when a few drops of it spills. “What do you really mean by that, Hobie?”

He scoffs, “You being here is suspicious—”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not navy.” You say with gritted teeth. You're not sure if he's just messing with you or he's truly being genuine.

“Not that. Not after O’Hara ran a bloody marathon for you, I know you're not one of ‘em. Or at least not anymore.”

You glare at him, getting angrier the second he uttered that name.

“Are you a deserter? Hmm? Are you his runaway bride? If so I don't blame you, I'd run away too.”

You grimace. “Fuck no, I'm neither of those things! Now can you please give me my chocolate?”

“No.” He blinks like he just got some revelation. “Fuck, are you his kid?”

“No! What? How'd you even get that conclusion? Do I look like—?”

“For all I know you could be an aristocrat.” He raises a brow.

“Oh come on!” You're properly annoyed. “I've been scrounging up food and coins for years. If I was a runaway noble lady then I would've come home to my mansion the second I was starving!”

“Why did the retired admiral run after you then? He looked like he wanted your bloody arse.”

“It's none of your business.” The fire in your eyes tries to convey your emotions. “I don't want to talk about him.” your voice turns shaky.

“It's my business because you're on my ship. If Miguel O'Hara's after you I need to know if the rest of my crew is in danger.” a few weeks ago his infuriated face would've scared you but now you're equally as mad as him.

You exhale, knuckles closed tightly on your side. “Fine, I'm here on your ship because you're heading north and I need to go north. You don't need to know about me and that man because I'm leaving when we get there. He won't come after the crew, I won't let him.”

His anger dissipates, eyes avoiding your own. “Here,” he stretches his arm, sliding the cup to you. Hobie winces from the movement, grabbing onto his chest instinctively.

“What is it?” You look at his pained expression. Walking around the counter, you step towards him, not too close but not too far that you wouldn't notice how his brows are knitted together, sweat dripping on his forehead.

Carefully reaching for him, you turn him gently towards you, not missing how hot his skin is under his shirt. “Hobie, look at me.” You say softly, hand squeezing his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

After a beat he looks at you with his stormy eyes, rain clouds dancing around his vision. “‘m fine, just need to sit down.”

“Let me see please” He freezes in front of you. “I'm here to help, aren't I? Now can I?” With a nod, he unbuttons his shirt slowly. Now open, a bandage is taped across his chest, dark blood seeping through it, clearly needing to be changed. “Fuck.”

“That bad?” He rasps.

“Yes, sit down.” You guide him towards a chair, surprisingly, he lets you. “I need to take it off to see the wound.” Hobie nods.

You kneel down in front of him, he sucks in his teeth with every tug and pull you do. The wound looks almost infected because of the careless bandaging and half hearted cleaning.

“Stay here, I'll get the things I need.”

He stops you with his hand bracelet around your wrist. “Tell me why you need to head north. There's nothing there but pompous politicians and leeching royals.”

“I think–” you start but you have no idea how to continue. Hobie looks up at you, hand sliding down to fit your own. “I think my family's there.” Without sparing any detail, you slip your hand out, turning away to head towards the infirmary.

—

His skin is hot against your hands, too warm for your liking. Sitting in between his legs, cotton shirt fully opened to reveal his wound and scarred chest. His newly bandaged knuckles rested on his thighs, they didn't need much cleaning but the skin was still open so you still did it just in case. The bottles of herbs rattle as the boat rocks from side to side.

Hobie's legs bounce up and down, the silence and tension is thick enough that your needle couldn't even poke through it. The ointment you're gently rubbing on him makes him wince, trouser leg bundled up in his shaking knuckles.

“Sorry, if there's any consolation, I hate this stuff too.” you quietly say. The strong smell from the mixture makes your nose itch.

“Were you a clumsy kid?” Hobie says, sucking in his teeth.

“Mm-hmm, I was climbing everywhere.” Chuckling softly. “Up in trees, roofs, got into so much trouble that she–” You stop, swallowing thickly. “I got a few scars to prove it.”

“We could compare–” he winces again when you press a little too hard on his wound but not too hard for it to bleed again. “Fuck…”

You hide your smile with a clear of your throat. “Sorry.”

“Fuck off, I know you're not sorry.” He laughs while you stifle yours.

Packing the mixture on his wound to combat any further infection, you make your hands extra gentle with every press and swipe.

“You should've told me about this.” Chastising him, you feel his eyes burn into your skull. “I could've prevented this, you know.”

“I've been told ‘m a stubborn bastard.”

“Oh I know. You did a shitty job at cleaning it by the way.”

“That's why you're here now, right?” His idle hands play with a hanging thread by your sleeves. He's not tugging at it so you don't mind, anything to keep his mind off the pain.

“So how'd you know about the turmeric for swelling?” You don't answer his question.

His smile falters before a small fond smile appears. “From someone a long time ago.”

Finishing up with cleaning his gash, you take a clean bandage from the table to cover and protect it. “They must be good then. Not a lot of people know about it.”

“Yes, she was.”

You pause, staring directly at his sad eyes. Hobie continues, “She was like you, brazen and full of fire.” He stares off into the distance, “A bloody force to be reckoned with.”

“A jack of all trades, she was. Always tryin’ to learn shit she didn't have to know.” Hobie flicks his eyes to you. “She knew how to swim, so that's a plus.”

You chuckle as he stares at your soft smile.

“Yours?” He asks tentatively, hand twitching to get closer to you.

“Does she know about ginger and honey?” Like a switch flicking, you stand up abruptly. “It's gonna help with your fever.”

Hobie doesn't press you for any information, instead, he lays back on the chair, letting you pamper him while your hot chocolate gets cold on the counter.

Preparing his tea, you can't help but feel bad for Hobie. Without him ever saying her name you know it's her, and you know he cared about her so much that whatever happened to MJ drove him to this state; a constant agony and hunger for revenge that if not satiated might consume him. He doesn't deserve it you think, he might be a pirate but during the time you've known him you found kindness in his frozen heart that's just waiting to be thawed out the moment he gets his revenge.

For his sake and the crew, you hope he gets what he always wanted.

“Here,” handing him the hot concoction, you're careful not to spill a single drop on him.

Hobie takes it, calloused fingers brushing yours. Taking a whiff of it, he makes a face that makes you scoff with a smile.

“If you can drink an entire glass of rum without choking then you can handle a simple tea.”

He side eyes you, shaking his head like a petulant child rejecting his medicine.

“Down the hatch, Hobie.” Bringing your hand under the cup, you guide it towards his tightly closed mouth. “It's sweet!”

“Nuh-uh” he shuts his lips closed the second he says it before you could shove the tea down his gullet.

Laughing, you can't believe the big bad captain of the bloodsail pirates is refusing to drink a simple ginger tea. “Do you need me to plug your nose, you big baby?” You say in between giggles.

“No, fine, I'll bloody drink it. I don't want your grimey hands all over my face.”

“These grimey hands were all over your chest treating your wound, you absolute child.” You regret your words the second you realize.

“Oh you were all over me, huh?” He smirks. You're glad that he can still smile after everything.

“Fuck off, drink it or don't, I don't care. Go die in a corner or something” you shrug, playing him like a fiddle.

“You really do care about me, Scuttlebutt.” With a deep breath, Hobie drinks the contents without any fuss.

You pat yourself on the back mentally. He coughs, scrunching his nose.

“I need to check your wound and clean it every eight hours. Got it?” You face him directly, hand on the side of his chair, looking down at him sternly.

“So you're finally askin' me out then? Pav was right, you're smitten.” Hobie has the brightest smile of a feverish man you've ever seen.

“Shithead.” You say, snatching the empty cup from his hands.

“You really do care about me. You've even given me a nickname”

You shake your head, taking your cold chocolate, flipping him the bird on the way out of the door.

“Lookin' forward to my next doctor's appointment, Trouble!” Hobie yells after you, his loud guffaw can be heard echoing out in the hallways.

—

You fall back into a comfortable routine. Helping the crew with their tasks and learning their ways throughout the time spent. You finally learn that the murky bucket of water doesn't have lye in it after seeing James dunk his entire arm in it. It's safe to say that he was covered in soapy water from head to toe after almost giving you a heart attack.

Ned's been teaching you how to mend the sails when you're not in the galley with Finn. He tells you tales of the time he was a traveling bard before the war. His stories were very colourful and sometimes not for the faint of heart. Who knew he had so many fans?

You've never smelt like gunpowder before, finding the powder tucked into the cloth of your clothes and sticking to your skin. The main culprit of the almost daily gunpowder bath is no other than Yuri and two fingers who took it upon themselves to teach you how to load a cannon and a musket. Under all the flirting, Yuri's a great teacher, your aim could do some work but at least now a gun isn't worthless in your hands.

At night, Miles and Pavitr would teach you about the stars and how to read maps, using it to navigate just in case you get lost. Which you hope will never happen to you. It would be a great skill to master if only you three would stop gossiping and giggling throughout the night, bellies full of tea and biscuits that Finn hides in the galley.

You find Gwen reading in the library alone from time to time. At first, you kept your distance, reading further away from her. But after a while, you notice that her favourite chair gets closer to yours until you sit side by side with her, reading quietly under a single oil lamp.

There's never a dull moment on the ship, everyone does their share of the work, and everyone gets to eat and be left to their own devices during the night. It's great, you think. You don't worry about your next meal or where you need to sleep anymore.

Your mind has never been this quiet since you left home.

Surprisingly, Hobie's been diligent at keeping your regularly scheduled injury maintenance on time. Even if you forget, he would appear out of nowhere, clutching your bag of supplies in his hands with a shit eating grin that makes you want to rip his bandage off harshly.

The brightness of the sun filtering through the large window hinders your vision a bit as you carefully take Hobie's stitches off. Your brows are knitted together, eyes full of concentration as sweat drips on your forehead. You could've done this in the infirmary but Hobie had to do a bunch of work in his cabin so you're currently doing your best at managing while he walks around the large table sat in the middle of the room. You follow him with your sutures and scissors. The sight must have been hilarious because half of the crew were chuckling and stifling a laugh.

But the moment you were finished, you threw them the nastiest glare you could muster. Shutting them all up immediately, looking away from you nonchalantly. You pretend you don't see them hiding their smiles.

Sitting down on a free chair, huffing and with your arms aching, you twist your wrists around, massaging the tired muscles with your fingers.

Miles sits next to you, a piece of paper landing right on top of your hands. Your own face stares back at you, a pencil sketch of you, face full of concentration.

“Did you draw this?” You say, surprised and with a bright grin on your face.

“No, Hobie did.” He says sarcastically but you believed him for a second. “Of course I did, it was a bit hard when you were following Hobie around like a duckling.”

“That's a compliment, ducklings are cute, Miles.” He rolls his eyes, “this is amazing though, thank you. I haven't had my likeness drawn in…never actually.”

Miles smiles, taking out a small leather bound sketchbook from his back pocket. “Prepare to be surprised then.”

He flips through it, you get glimpses of drawings from far flung sceneries, animals that you don't know the names of and faces of the crew; some familiar, some are strangers to you. But you see more of Gwen's face amidst the pages. You fight the urge to tease him, maybe you'll do that when half of the crew isn't discussing battle plans in front of you. Their faces are serious and intense as Hobie lays out figures on a map.

“You're this bored, huh?” With your elbow resting on your thigh, you watch him stop on a page.

“Look at this one” he proudly says, eyes twinkling. Showing you the pages, his hand still holding it just in case you had the audacity to flip through it yourself.

You can't believe it's your own face staring back at you.

Your eyes smile in the drawing, the unmistakable shine of happiness in them. Face turned to side, clearly looking at something. Your lips are curled up into a grin like someone just told you the funniest joke ever. The shading is expertly done by Miles, *it's like staring into a mirror, you thought. You've never seen yourself this happy.

“I'm guessing I did a good job?” He smugly says, “you're staring at it way too long, narcissus is that you?” Miles jokes, but his smile fades when he sees your eyes glistening in the sun. “Oh shit, please don't cry. Hobie's gonna kill me if I made you cry.”

You sniff, casually hiding the heat behind your eyes. “It's really good.” Chuckling, you feel a pair of eyes on your form. “Thank you, I–” exhaling, you have no idea how to properly thank him. Settling on a fist bump on his arm, you awkwardly do just that. “Thanks, you made me look prettier.”

He laughs, sighing in relief. “Nah, it was no problem. Making you look good was the hardest part.”

“You ruined it,” you scrunch up your nose, feigning annoyance. Pushing the notebook, shoving it to his chest he laughs loudly, too loud apparently when someone from the room shushes you two.

Miles winces before turning back to you. “You know what helped though? In getting your expression right?”

“No?”

“Hobie,” he says with a quick gesture towards the man. A mischievous smirk on his face. “You were talking to Hobie while I was drawing this.” Lifting the page back up, “look how happy you were!” You close the book with his fingers still inside.

Yelping, he glares at you. “I made you a portrait and this is how you thank me?”

“Shut it” your eyes roam the room, looking for someone who's eavesdropping on the conversation. Thankfully no one is. “Don't act like Gwen isn't on every page of your book.” you whisper shout at him.

“Oh so you're saying that the same feelings I have for Gwen can be translated to your feelings towards Hobie?” He teases you right back, whispering quieter. “I owe Pav a coin.”

“You little–!” He rockets away from his seat, weaving through the crew. “Come back here, Miles!” Chasing him, careful not to shove anyone, your fast footsteps echo in the hallways.

Miles yells back, gaining speed ahead of you. “I have Hobie's version too if you'd like to see it!”

“No! Fuck you! I'll tell Gwen!”

He turns heel, now running after you. Cursing, you turn around, back to where you came from. Sprinting, you both pass by Hobie's cabin lightning fast. The crew's laughter echoes out while you try to escape Miles.

Hobie can't help but crack a smile even when the topic at hand is serious and dire.

—

With a book in front of you, hands smelling of ink and paper, you glance at Gwen who's leaning on your side comfortably, using you as her personal backrest. You don't mind it since she snuck in hot chocolate for you.

“I've been thinking—”

“That's dangerous, don't hurt yourself.” She murmurs.

“Funny, ha ha” you laugh sarcastically. She snorts, eyes still glued on the page. “Seriously though, what's on the bow of the ship? I've only seen mermaids and the occasional angel carved on it but I've never seen one like the one here. Where in the world did Hobie even get it?”

“It's a dragon.” Gwen says without looking back at you.

“A dragon? But it doesn't have any wings though?”

She sits up, gently laying the book on her lap, looking prim and proper. “A version of it, I guess? It's popular in the east.” You listen intently so she continues. “In their stories, the dragons symbolize luck and strength, which we need now more than ever.” stretching her neck, she continues. “And Hobie traded it in exchange for our boring old siren.”

You chuckle, “What's the difference between the ones in our mythology and theirs? Other than the lack of wings and looking way cooler.”

“They say they have the power to control the weather and are big enough to swallow the moon.” you whistle out, intrigued. “Maybe after the fight we can sail over there and show you around the place?” she asks, grinning.

“I'd love that.”

You should tell her that you're not staying after the fight, but you don't want to ruin the moment or her mood. You'll tell her when you get the chance, for now, you let them focus on what's coming.

“We named him Terrence by the way.”

You giggle. “I'll be sure to greet him every morning.”

—

The clean water splashed on your head is a nice reprieve from the searing heat. Being the so-called ‘doctor’ on the ship, Hobie thought it would be a great idea for you to also be their designated water girl to combat heat stroke. It's easy work, reminding them to drink water and also just dumping a splash of water on the crew's head using a soup ladle. You're having fun actually, just randomly (and sneakily) pouring water over their heads whenever they complain about the heat while toiling under the sun, watching them shriek and jump from the sudden gush of water. Now they rarely complain anymore, that just means you've done a good job at keeping them all alive under the heat.

But there's one person who you haven't dumped water on yet, which with the help of Finn and his strength, you're about to remedy that.

Hobie stands near the helm, observing Pavitr sailing the ship with ease. You and Finn carry the entire barrel of half full water, (it's mostly Finn doing the work) carefully sneaking behind Hobie to dump the entire contents on him.

Before you could signal Finn to pour it on Hobie, he turns around, hands placed on his hips and a face that says: I dare you.

You freeze mid step, darting your eyes towards your little helper. Finn shrugs, subtly pointing his head towards Hobie.

“Well—?” With one strong heave of the barrel, pointing it directly towards Hobie, the water hits him with a splash, completely drenching him.

The sound gets everyone's attention, seeing their captain wet as a freshly caught fish, the roaring laughter fills the ship, pointing, hollering and whistling at their captain.

The smile on your lips fades, eyes widening when you flick your eyes downward, you've never thought a harmless prank could make your heart beat faster and for heat to rise to your cheeks. And it's not the sun that's causing that or a symptom of heat exhaustion, no, it's Hobie and his unfortunate white cotton shirt that's completely soaked through, sticking to his skin, showing off his chiseled torso. You don't dare look further down, you might not recover from what you could possibly get a glimpse of.

Hobie splutters, wiping at his wet face, water dripping from his entire body. You swallow thickly, Finn notices your sudden silence. He looks at you with narrowed eyes, head tilted like he caught your hand in the cookie jar.

You blink rapidly, “W-what?” Side eyeing Finn. He raises a brow, “What? I may not like him but I still have eyes, you know.”

“Liar.” He says in a deep voice, making you do a double take.

“Did you just—?”

“Y/N,” Hobie addresses you, eyes telling you to run. “You better not let me catch you.”

You squeak, bolting immediately. The crew guffaws loudly like they're watching the best entertainment the sea could offer. Sprinting down the stairs, hearing footsteps behind you, your old injury flares up, almost tripping you.

Hobie catches you before you could fall flat on your face. His drenched arms around your middle, his clothes squelching on your back, the water seeping through your own clothes.

“Time to walk the plank again, Scuttlebutt!” He jokes but the way he carries you towards the plank has you wiggling out, hitting his arms.

“It was a joke!” You scream. He walks closer, “a jape!” Hobie stops near the edge. “A jest!”

His laugh reverberates, you feel his chest vibrating. He cranes his neck down, whispering close to the shell of your ear. “Did you really think I'll throw you overboard?” Goosebumps rise on your skin as he blows hot air. “I'll let Finn do it instead.”

Biting your lip, hands gripping his wrists, you decide to rag him on after knowing he won't actually throw you into the shark infested waters. “yeah? Why don't you do it yourself? Be a man, captain”

Behind you, the crew continues to cheer. Pav even lets out a ‘lets go!’

Hobie chuckles deeply, squeezing you once. “You cheeky—”

The alarm bells from the crow’s nest rings out, James yells from above. “Vessel approaching! Starboard!”

Hobie lets you go, taking a telescope from a serious looking Gwen.

The blood in your veins turn into ice, holding on to the railing, you grip it as you feel your knees give out.

You can't hear what anyone is saying with blood rushing in your ears, frantic voices indistinct, igniting your nerves. Your breathing turns shallow, you try to count backwards in your head but it's no use when your hands start shaking.

“Oi,” Hobie notices your distressed expression. Rushing to your side, his voice starts getting clearer when he places his hands on your cheeks, holding you gently like you're about to break from the slight pressure from his touch.

“Breathe, yeah?” He inhales and exhales, encouraging you to do the same. You copy him, staring only at Hobie. “There, good, just breathe.” His thumbs wipe at the tears you haven't noticed letting out.

After a beat of breathing in sync, Hobie nods. “It's alright, they're allies. You don't have to be scared.” He turns you around carefully, “see? They're waving.”

Pointing at a man clad in red, white and blue, Hobie squeezes your shoulder. “That's Captain Anarchy and right next to him is his first mate, Robbie Banner. They're here to help us win the fight.”

You calm down a little once you see the crew of the other ship smile and wave at you. Trusting Hobie, you look over your shoulder, his face too close to you, breath mixing in together. Flinching, you take a step back from his hold.

He lets you go, hands sliding away from your elbows, giving you space. You look uncharacteristically small in front of him, shoulders hunched, eyes looking down at your feet.

“You're alright, Y/N.” His reassuring and soft voice echoes amidst the rowdy crew behind him.

You could only nod.

—

It's been chaotic since the sons of the sea arrived. They have been welcoming and kind to you, too kind, in fact that you sometimes forget that they're pirates. Especially Robbie, he always goes out of his way to help your uneasiness. He once told you during dinner with the crew that he knows how it feels to be new; and for some reason he thought that you're Hobie's lover, saying that loving a pirate captain is pretty hard work. You shut down the conversation immediately.

Finally finding a time for yourself, you stretch your aching hands, gunpowder stuck in your nostrils. Hemp and pine tar sticking under your fingernails. You've never thought that you'd be preparing for war but here you are.

After the incident, you've made yourself scarce. With preparation and between meetings, you hadn't had a chance to speak with him. Or for Hobie to even try to approach you. His wounds have healed so you don't have any reason to keep seeing each other. But you find yourself holding on to two mugs of hot chocolate, trudging the cold hallways to his cabin.

The mugs are warm in your hands, the familiarity helping with your nerves. You have no idea what to say to him, maybe a simple thank you perhaps? You didn't intend to become that vulnerable in front of him, so maybe an apology? Whatever you end up saying to him, it all has to start with a simple knock on his door which you're currently standing stiffly in front of.

Juggling two mugs in one hand, you place your knuckles on the wood. Your ears perk up at the muffled voices inside. Against better judgment, you place your ear above the door, eavesdropping on the conversation.

“—She’s not her, Hobie. I've seen how you act around her, how you look at her.” You strain your ears to hear better. “It's the same with MJ.” You blink in surprise.

“Gwen,” Hobie sighs, there's rustling on his end. “I don't like what you're insinuating.”

“I'm not insinuating anything. I'm saying this as a friend to you and to her. Don't. Just…don't” there's footsteps, “She's good for the crew, Hobie. We can't lose her.”

“I know she is.”

Gwen scoffs. “You just proved my point.”

“She's not her, I get it. Can you please go back to preparin’?”

“No, not until you get it in your thick skull.” she pauses. “She's her own person. I see it too, the similarities in their personalities. But Y/N’s not MJ.”

You almost drop the mugs.

“I know she's not MJ. I don't fancy her, I tolerate her.”

“Are you sure? Because you keep–”

His voice shakes. “MJ is gone and Y/N is Y/N. I know she's not MJ.”

Backing away from the door, emotions swirling into a dangerous concoction, face flat and lips downturned. You slowly bend down to place the mug on the side of his cabin door.

You have no idea how to react or confront it, so you just walked away. Throwing the information in the back of your mind, hoping it doesn't seep into your bones. Hope that it doesn't rot and spoil inside.

—

The sky is heavy with dark clouds, thunder booming like drum beats, lightning peeking out in the night. A storm is coming, you can feel it in your tendons, the smell of petrichor looming overhead, temperature dropping significantly. The fog obscuring the way doesn't help with your icy nerves. The rest of the crew battens down the windows, preparing to weather out the storm. You're not even that close to the destination and yet the sky is already preventing the ship from going further.

The sea is unusually calm despite the storm brewing ahead. A possible omen to what's to come next. You pray that you're wrong.

Shutting your window, locking it in place, you take your medical bag that's hanging from the cabin's doorknob. Making sure the door is properly closed, you head over to the deck.

You almost collide into a body, their hands holding on to your elbows.

“Woah there!” He holds you at arm's length. “You alright, doc?” His genuine smile makes the day a tad brighter.

“Captain Anarchy, hello and please don't call me that. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not actually a doctor.” You chuckle lightly.

“I won't call you doc if you don't call me captain anarchy.”

“Alright, what should I call you then?”

“Karl's fine. I'm not your captain anyway so why bother calling me captain y’know?”

You nod, “Yeah, I get it. Are you lost? These are the cabins.”

“Shit, yeah.” He scratches his head. “I swear this place is built like a maze. I'm looking for the galley actually, Finn said I can borrow some ingredients. I'm planning on cooking for everyone tonight.”

“That's really nice of you, thanks. I'll show it to you if you want?”

“That would be fantastic, thank you!”

Gesturing behind him, you lead him while he laughs at his own blunder. “Wait, Finn talked to you?”

“Mm-hmm, I've known him for a while. The secret is to talk about produce and spices then you won't be able to get him to shut up.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” You chuckle, shaking your head. Deciding to make small talk while weaving around hallways, you ask him. “How long have you been a pirate?”

He sighs, “Too fucking long.”

“Looking to retire?” you look over your shoulder, his face says it all.

“Absolutely, we're all just saving up so we could settle comfortably somewhere. Unfortunately taxes are really fucking high these days thanks to the asshole in the big chair.”

“You got that right. All these wars and sponsoring explorations got the people's coffers dry and empty.”

“Exactly! Man, Hobie really knows how to pick them, huh?” He shakes your shoulder like you're old friends. You don't flinch away, in case you offend the only ally Hobie has.

“We're not together.” you say flatly.

“That right? Sorry. Well, he did pick the right crew member then.”

“More like he fished me out of the sea.”

He laughs, the sound reminding you of a bird chirping. Karl looks at your humorless face. “Wait, seriously.”

“Yep, that's a story for another day because we're here.” you open the doors for him, showing him the galley.

“Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.” he shoots you a friendly wink.

“Of course, just give me extra portions later.” you joke.

He chortles, “I'll save the bigger bowl for you”

Before you leave, there's a question that's unfortunately gnawing in your head.

“Can I ask you something?”

He peeks over the counter, blue eyes staring back at you. “Shoot.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, it just means go ahead.”

“Right, uh…Did you know Hobie three years ago?” You cross your arms on your chest.

“I've known him far longer than that.”

“How was he back then?”

Karl thinks for a moment. He smiles, “Best damn pirate I've ever seen, next to me of course. He was younger, wide eyed, hungry for adventure, more than ready to take down the crown itself. Safe to say he's ambitious, he still is but—” he shakes his head. “For a different reason now.”

“Do you not think he can take down Matthias?”

“I have faith that he can and he will eventually. But I'm afraid that I'll never see that wide eyed Hobie ever again. He's gotten used to the flames, feeding it, letting it consume him. I don't think he'll be able to fight that fire after he gets what he wants.”

You clench your jaw. “What happened to MJ?”

“I don't think I'm the right person to tell you that.”

Nodding, you wordlessly thank him with a small smile.

“Wait, Y/N.” he calls for you.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever happens, help him douse the fire? For everyone's sake.”

“I— I'll do my best.”

He gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Promise me, please. I owe MJ that much.”

You exhale shakily. “I promise.”

Turning to leave, you fight with yourself. How could you make that promise when you plan to leave after Hobie wins? How do you keep that promise when you can't even look him in the eye? How do you tell Gwen and the others when their hearts are set to you staying on board?

Will it be worth it for you to leave what you currently have for someone who may not even exist?

You pause in the middle of the barren hallway, hand clutching tightly at the straps of your bag. Breathing heavily, you feel it rearing its ugly head again.

Your thoughts get interrupted by the alarm bells ringing, this time instead of curling around yourself, you decide to face it head on despite the shaking in your legs. The crew needs you, and you need them.

Crash!

The ship lunges harshly to the side, flinging you to the wall, head pounding on the hardwood.

Your vision blurs, white dots dancing, ears ringing and your head stinging from the impact.

“Fuck…” you crawl, doing your best to get up on the deck.

“They need you. Get up, lazybones.”

Hearing her voice whisper into your ear, makes you laugh coldly. You're probably concussed.

With a groan, you lift yourself up, using the wall as leverage.

With every heavy step, you straighten up, ignoring the pain in the back of your head. Walking up the steps makes you dizzy but you continue on.

Holding on to the door frame triumphantly, you reach the deck.

The fog has reached the ship, covering the entire deck in its thick mist. You notice the quiet, and the lack of movement from the crew. They all just stand stiffly, spaced away from each other. holding their weapons in their hands in a tight grip, the only indication that they're alright.

You spot Hobie in the middle of the crowd, eyes staring into the sea.

“Hobie?” You softly say. Grabbing his arm, you jump when he takes your wrist without taking his eyes off from what he's staring at.

His hand shakes, you're afraid to look.

“Y/N,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I'm sorry.”

His apology makes you follow his gaze.

The thick fog makes way for a dozen ships sailing towards you at incredible speeds, they open the lamps on their bows one by one. Like a hunter's gaze, they petrify you.

With your heart trying to escape your chest, you turn starboard, hopeful for a way out. But the sight alone would make you weep.

A larger ship looms over the revenge, its bow crashed on the side of the now splintered wood of the ship. The navy ship is Gilded and pristine, decorated with carvings of asphodels. The crowned angel with her wings spread out on the bow looks down at you through her wooden eyes.

Hobie clutches on to you tighter, scowling, shaking in sheer anger.

A menacing laugh echoes into the eerie silence.

You're surrounded.

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bloodynereid · 5 months

Note

Hey babes! What do you think about some rivals to lovers for jordan li? I love how Jordan was super competitive at the start of the show, and idk why but I wanted to see more of that from them :) anyway something angsty but also super cute?

Jordan Li is my new obsession and the little amount of fanfiction for them hurts

Sending you lots of love 💕💕💕

Heartstrings

pairing: jordan li x fem! reader

tw: angst, horrible parents... again, rivalry, swearing, fluff, crying, alcohol consumption, intrusive thoughts?

description: rivals always do have that unspoken tension don't they?

a/n: hiii sorry it took like a month to write this - hopefully it's similar to what you thought about. also sorry it's so short, i think i went into a sort of mini writing slump so i'm trying to get back on the saddle. anywaysss hope you enjoy <33

You let out a huff as you collapsed on one of the picnic tables outside of the exam room (what really was a random auditorium). God, that exam was horrible. For some reason, it seemed easy up until the moment you dropped the stack of papers off at the examiner’s desk.

Business was probably easier than it was at different colleges because it just focused on supe management but it had a variety of key terms that you had studied like a maniac. But… you still felt like a failure. How were you going to make it past Jordan fucking Li on the leaderboard if you got a mediocre score on a random business final?

“Damn that exam was easyyyy, why are you grumbling on such a beautiful day like today?” Speaking of the devil.

“Jordan…” You said, poison lacing your tone as you looked up at the stupid smirk on their face.

“Y/N. What did you think of the test?” You and Jordan had a sort of rivalry between the two of you since you started at God U.

Freshman year. You and Jordan share the majority of classes. It sounds like the recipe for real friendship but no, it turned into something more twisted.

“Incredibly easy, what about you Jordan? Think that you actually did well at something for once?”

“Oh I’m hurt darling. Who’s higher on the ranks by the way? I haven’t checked.”

“Fuck you.”

“I think that’s something you want to do.” Jordan’s voice held something hard to identify as they leaned forward and she winked at you.

You smoothed out the fabric of the dress you were wearing. The gold dress hung around your frame perfectly and it actually made you feel confident in a room of people who probably had more money that you could even dream of.

A sip of bubbly champagne filled your mouth when you suddenly felt a solid presence behind you. The flute of bubbly alcohol was plucked out of your hand and you twirled around with an indignant look on your face. You really shouldn’t be surprised that the person standing in front of you was Jordan.

“Wow, so now you don’t just steal my place in the ranks but you also steal my fucking champagne.”

“It’s pretty shitty champagne, you’re not really missing anything.” Jordan said as they smiled that stupidly teasing smile of theirs as he took another sip. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the flute back out of their hands.

“What do you want, Jordan?”

“Oh I don’t know, it seems like you looked a little lonely.”

“So this whole charade was so you could check on my wellbeing, yeah I fucking doubt that.”

“Then why do you think I came here?” Jordan purred out as they leaned on one of the columns.

“To gloat.”

“Oh I think you suffer enough whenever you open up that little phone of yours to see who’s higher up.” Jordan said they trailed a finger over the hand that you were using to hold up the flute. Your eyes narrowed and you felt a shudder of pure hatred run through your veins. Quickly pulling your hand away, you huffed and walked straight away from a smirking Jordan.

“Aww did I hit a nerve, sweetheart?”

Frantically wiping away the tears that littered your face, you slammed your phone down maybe a little too harshly on the concrete steps. You heard the protective case shatter but in that moment all you could care about is the venomous words spewed into your ear by your parents.

Never enough. That’s what you constantly felt like. You were the eldest and yet you could never do anything as perfectly as your brothers. They were getting top ranks at their supe training school and what were you doing? You were sitting at a mediocre 5. Not good enough for parents who demanded perfection in every single aspect of your life.

A sob was trying to fight its way out of your throat when you buried your head between your arms. The harsh fabric of your jeans scratched painfully on your tearstreaked cheeks. You deserve the fucking pain at this point.

You could almost feel your blood boiling when your powers turned on hyperdrive. Well that’s wonderful timing. Suddenly you could feel, hear and see basically everything. The senses assaulted your very being and a choked whine left your lips.

Why did they think you weren’t good enough? Top 5 is something kids and their parents dream about. And yet you were sitting around on a cold concrete slab crying your eyes out because of your parents.

“Y/N?” The voice you recognized ever so well, made you look up from your clothed arms. Meeting Jordan’s eyes with your own tear-filled ones.

“Fuck off Jordan, I don’t need or want to deal with you today.” You said sharply before dropping your head back onto your knees. You didn’t feel Jordan move away though, instead a warm body settled down next to you and you felt an arm weave around your shoulders.

The chill that had seemed to have permanently weaved with your DNA left when Jordan cradled you into their embrace.

“Y/N?” You let out a loud sob at the sound of your name. What you didn’t realize was that Jordan’s eyes were filled with brimming concern. They had never seen you like this, you were literally like a rock. You always took their teases in stride and easily rebuked them. Your little cat and mouse game was one of the only things that kept Jordan going whenever they were having a bad day.

“I fucking hate them. I do everything they ask of me and yet I’m never enough. I’m never going to be as good as their perfect little sons.” Your words came out in heaves and sniffles. Jordan felt a pang of emotion, they knew exactly what you were feeling.

“I get it, I know everyone always says that but I really do this time. My parents fucking suck. They constantly demand perfection, don’t they?”

“Yeah…” You trailed off as the tears started to dry up and crust on your cheeks.

“Are you okay, darling?” Jordan said softly as you looked up to meet her eyes.

“I can’t believe you are comforting right now, but other than that fine.”

“Always with the scathing insults.” Jordan said with a delighted twist of their smile.

“You know me… thanks for this Jordan.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Something sparked in Jordan’s eyes when you smiled at them. “You know I don’t really hate you right?” Jordan said softly as they caught a stray tear with their thumb.

That was when you had the realization, you never really hated them either. You liked the competition. You liked feeling pushed and you absolutely adored their stupid fucking smirk.

“Maybe I don’t really hate you either.”

“Ah you see, progress.” Jordan said, making a zap of energy sing through you.

“This doesn’t mean we’re going to be friends suddenly.”

“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it but between you and me, darling, I think we would be something more.” Jordan said with a wink which made goosebumps appear on your skin.

“You’re going to have to beat me first.”

“In what?”

“In that stupid business exam… results come out tomorrow. If you get a better grade than me you get to take me out on a date, if I get a better grade than you I get to take you out on a date.”

“Seems like a win-win situation either way. I can’t wait.” Jordan brushed their warm fingers across your cheekbone before they sent you one final wink and a smirk before heading off in the direction of the dorms.

“You coming? We do have that marketing exam on Friday…” Jordan called out over their shoulder, their remark made your body instantly heat up. Fuck it. You were in a losing battle with them again, this time the prize was your heart and they were certainly going to win it.

ahhh jordannnnn

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k2ntoss · 3 months

Text

BIG FEARS AND LITTLE SURPRISES

tw ⭒ jason todd x fem!reader, pregnancy, cheating mentions, cursing, really REALLY angry jason, angst finished with a lot of fluff because i need something sweet with my baby ):

a/n ⭒ i had all of this almost finished and my fucking phone decided to go crazy and post it unfinished :) i swear i'm screaming. comments and reblogs are all appreciated, also feel free to leave anything on my askbox or inbox <3

no words count again, lmao, too lazy for that

the way your hands tremble makes it hard to see properly the results but it's worse with the tears blurrying your vision. positive. it's what you can see if compared to what the box says.

the knot on your throat is catching your breath with the sobs that manage to leave your lips and lucky you, the apartment is empty as jason had to leave for patrol. how are you supposed to tell him that you're expecting his baby? it's probably the biggest responsability you could make him take and you know he's capable of leaving his life behind just to keep you and the baby safe but here again, who are you to rip appart his life? you didn't had the right to take something so important to him away.

guilt is eating you up as you make your way out of the bathroom to pick up your phone, choosing to call babs because you really needed some help and she agrees to take you on her house for the night so when jason comes back you're not there, instead there's a note were you wrote 'i'll be back in the morning, had a small family emergency' and he senses there's something off but there's no sing of a single shit around the house.

you're out, babs helps you see an emergency doctor and you find out you're pregnant and you're on your fourth month, there's no way you can deny this and ignore it. you know that you'll have to end things with jason, be out of his life before you can ruin it for good, before you are the reason he loses his happiness and his reason to be.

there's no need to say that jason isn't able to sleep what's left of the night, it's not until you open the door when he's able to breathe because you look just fine, there's not a single hair out of its place on you and he comes closer but stops on his track when he's met with the less warm greeting you could have made.

"morning, jason" you say in a calm tone, your lips pressed on a fine line as you walk pass him, gently nudding your shoulder against his side as if you just bumped him and he turns around, mouth parted as he tries to say something in the exact second you dissapear through the doorway of your room.

"good morning?" he greets back, where was his kiss? and his hug? he's following you like a lost puppy while you pace around the room "babe... is something going on?" he asks softly, his eyes look worried and it hurts so bad because a big part of you wants to jump into his arms and break the news to him.

you were going to be a family.

you could have been a family.

but life wasn't that nice to almost anyone, you couldn't just tell him and ruin his whole life, take away everything for him to take a responsability that maybe he wasm't ready to take.

"nope, nothing at all" you reply, turning around to avoid looking at him as your voice comes nonchalant naturally, almost putting too much of a good show of being just fine. and then your phone rings, dick's name pops up on your screen and you look at it, fisting the device as you walk fast out of the room "i have to take this, wait" you mumble as you dart oit of the apartment.

jason is so taken by surprise he doesn't follows at first giving you the chance to talk a little more safely.

"i can't tell him, dick, what am i supposed to do? if i ever tell him it's all gonna be over" you mutter into the speaker and dick knows that part of it is real, but he also knows jason and he knows he couldn't feel his life would be ruinned by his own child growing on your womb.

there are steps comming from into your place and you know it's time to finish the call "i can't talk right now, please don't keep calling me" you mutter between gritted teeth "not when he's around" you let out as a whisper hoping jason didn't heard.

but as i said, life isn't nice. he hears it, it's weird because he made part of your mumbling and whispering "was it about your family emergency?" he asks, it's clear that there are some thoughts starting to rumble on his head but he tries to push it away.

"yeah, uh... my sister is having a hard time with her husband" and your answer seems to be genuine at first, jason nods at it makes you believe he accepts it. but he's not stupid.

that's the first time jason feels like something isn't right, the first time a little hint of distrust raises on his mind and he feels sick.

the following days are almost the same, you keep your phone inside the pockets of your clothes and avoid looking at him. there are no kisses or hugs over the day, no cuddling while watching a movie on the evening and what is worst.

there no hugging on your sleep. it's like you're pushing him away, closing yourself up to him and that makes him feel like he's losing you.

most nights you would just turn around and shift under the blankets pretending to be asleep just to push away his arms, snuggling away from him until you were sleeping on the edge of the bed. some other nights, just like this one, you would put up any lame excuse.

"it's too hot, jason, can we not cuddle now?" you'd ask him with a frown, thruth is that it was chill and you are just wearing shorts and a old shirt, too thin to cover you from the wind. your tone is filled with disgust at the thought of being too close to him when you were both sweaty when you wanted nothing else but cuddle yourself into his arms, to kiss him and hear his heartbeat "it's not a big deal, just one night not cuddling"

and jason isn't even able to reply, he just nods because he knows that if he speaks his voice will break. he might look like a though guy, like he didn't needed anyone but himself but he needed you. it was killing him, not being able to see your eyes looking up at him with so much love and care, why was he losing you?

at this point is hard for him to even talk to you, it's been two weeks already and you aren't home during the day. when he has to go on patrol you are about to arrive and he starts to lose any hope on being able to talk this through with you even if he decided to stay at home and skip his patrol. when he's back it's either to find you sleeping already or to find you on the couch and he doesn't feel brave enough to pick you up to take you to bed.

he has some hopes up tho, he feels like maybe ome of this days you'll wake up being the same as always, showering him in soft pecks to wake him up or maybe whispering sweet nothings into his ear but you know how they say that even the strongest rock breaks when water hits it too much?

jason has his limits too and his mind hasn't stopped to think of the possibilities of you having someone else. he hates himself because that would mean he doesn't trust you anymore and that what it is, but he doesn't want to think it like that.

one evening when jason is supposed to be out with bruce to check a big case you come back home, you miss being there and having him to hold you thight and kiss your face.

"you came back early" you hear his voice and it makes you freeze, he wasn't supposed to be here. for your luck it's starting to get colder outside so a few layers of clothing helps to cover the way your belly has started to grown. it's ever so slightly swollen, being your first pregnancy and you just being on the fifth month it was easy to say it wasn't really a baby bump.

but you knew jason would notice if he looked close enough. you are there, arms crossed over your chest as you look at jason. there's no hint of the warmth of his happiness to see you back home and your heart breaks up all over again for the hundreth time in weeks.

"aren't you supposed to be with bruce?" you asks, pretending not to be surprised or scared because you tried so hard not to tremble under his gaze.

"am i? really? for what i can remember we are both supposed to be and do some things but you aren't like you're supposed to be lately" he says and his tone comes out harsh. maybe it's for the better but he hates fighting with you, he hates having any kind of argument with the girl he loves so much but he can't take this anymore.

"and can you tell me what do your words mean?" you ask him, you knew that this was about to come it just needed to be pushed a little more to explode like an old grenade. like an old mine on a war field because it was just like that, everything was so spiky between you both it was better to spend your time out.

"you know damn well what i mean, y/n" he scoffs, there's a sharpness to his eyes that makes you want to cry but you have to keep it together so you can finally push him away so you can safe what's the most important thing for him.

oh but how mistaken you were. dumb, dumb, dumb. as if you weren't the most important thing for him, as if losing you wouldn't break him completely and let alone finding out he was going to be a father. you were about to take his heart out of his chest and squeeze it, drain it completely to leave him destroyed. the shell of the man he became when you came into his life.

"i'm sorry to break it into your hard head, i have no idea what you mean" you talk back, sounding all so sure and defensive when everything you wanted was to bury yourself into his arms and say how sorry you were, how stupid you felt for hidding all of this from him.

"you're not even the shade of who you were weeks ago, y/n" he stands up from the chair he's sitting at, heavy steps as he comes closer. he's towering over you and there's a voice in the back of your head that tells you that it's better to stop all of this because you also hated this kind of confrontation "what the hell is going on? is it even something better that what we had?"

and that question makes you confused, what was he talking about? what was better?

"care to enlighten me? you're just talking and i cam't understand what do you mean" your words sound genuine and they are, there's not a single thought of what he could possibly mean.

"c'mon, don't play dumb with me" he starts, looking away with a scowl. he walks away when he feels you shifting a little closer, it's almost as if the heat of your body wasn't a welcome feeling anymore, it burned him "did you decided to go play someone's else pretty girlfriend? is he even as good as i am?"

and it all makes sense. did he really thought you had someone else and even if you've been lying to him, hidding things from him it hurts you so bad because you were so sure he knew how much you loved him, how he was everything you could have ever wished for.

"are you being–? do you think i have someone else?" you ask and the way you sound so offended makes him feel angrier "who the fuck do you think i am? how can you even dare to say that?"

"so now you're offended? what? cam't stand being called out like the cheater you are?" his voice turns louder, he sounds so angry and hurt, jason feels his eyes sting and he has to bite his tongue to hold back the tears "what do you think? that i'm fucking stupid?! you think i don't listen to you when you speak on the phone? how you tell him to stop calling you when i'm around?"

every single word feels like a dagger into your chest, he's unable to stop himself with the questioning and the pain on your heart makes you bring one hand to the top of your belly in a protective way, almost by instinct because you know that intense emotions can be harmful for a baby.

"do you think i don't know you're not home until i leave for patrol?! maybe you're too busy letting another asshole fuck you like some cheap whore" and it's what you needed to hear, the last thing you needed to listen from him because now you can't help it.

the tears that start falling from your eyes in silence are just fuel to his anger.

"and now you're crying! can't you stop playing thr victim" and his voice is louder, he's screaming now and you can't think before it slips out of your mouth.

"i'm expecting" it comes out as a whisper, he can't really make your words because his voice mutters yours completely.

"i can't fucking believe you're crying when you're the one cheatin–"

"i'm expecting!" this time when his voice lowers it's your turn to raise your tone and he stops on his tracks. his face turns pale when the words sink on his mind and even the vein on his neck vanishes.

"what?" it's the only thing he manages after swallowing hard, he looks at you in disbelief and your worst fear roars inside of you when you think that he just can imagine his life ruined.

"i'm pregnant" you're still crying and your hand is still holding your belly almost as if you were also scared of losing what you thought was the last thing you had left of jason "i didn't knew how to tell you- i didn't wanted to ruin your life like this, i'm so sorry i'm doing this to you"

your words are slurred and you can't help it, the tears fall down more and more when jason covers his mouth with his hand and sighs. he hides the biggest smile he has let out in years and you can't see it. it looks like he's regretting being with you to your eyes and it breaks you even more.

with your eyes closed and the noise of your struggled breath you can't hear it when he comes closer and his hands are over yours, he looks at you with a spark of pure joy as he cups your cheeks so lovingly it makes your heart ache.

"are you? sweetheart..." he speaks and his voice breaks but you're sure he has never sounded so happy before "why didn't you... you really thought this would ruin my life?"

through your tears and all the fear you still feel doesn't let you speak so you nod feeling your knees weak and jason notices. he holds you into his arms, picking you up to walk and sit on the couch, taking your body in his embrace to cuddle you against his chest.

"there's nothing that i could have wanted more than this" he mutters, his lips pressed against your temple as he caresses your back "never again think that something as important as this could ruin me, okay? you have no idea... how much i've wanted to start a family by your side" jason speaks and there's no trace of anger on his eyes anymore, there are still a few tears rolling down his cheeks but the smile on his lips is there too.

"i didn't knew how to tell you, i'm so sorry" you sob, your arms going around his neck as you hide your face from him in shame "i don't want you to quit your life for us, jason"

"let me clear a few thing up for you, hm?" jason starts, one of his hands sneaks until it finds the small curve of your belly "first of all, you can't call me jason, it's either jay or any of those cheesy nicknames you have for me but never in your life jason" the way he sound deadly serious brings a sense of warmth and safety that you lost in the past weeks and that made it easier for you to breathe as you nod at his words.

"now, i won't quit my life. my life right now is you and this little one, yeah? it's gonna be hard, we're still young but we are a family now and i'll do anything to keep you both safe" jason says, so solemnly it makes you nod without even thinking. he was so right.

and you've been so wrong all this time.

"i'm on the fifth month..." you say, your voice comes out a little hoarse but jason can't help the pretty chuckle he lets out at his excitement.

"do you know what it will be?" he asks softly, leaning in to kiss softly both of your eyes. those were one of your favorites because jason started to kiss your eyes once you told him one of the stories you were told when you were a little girl.

and when you nod at his question he looks at you, waiting for your answer and it bring a small smile to your face after weeks of feeling dead.

"it's a girl... i went to the doctor today, i wished you could have been there" you say as you look away and it only makes you miss the way jason's smile widens and he has to cover his eyes because he's crying all again.

"so were having a little princess, right?" he asks, jason sounds so happy that just thinking about how you were about to hide this from him makes you sick, but there's nothing that can bring down how you feel when he smiles like that "will i be able to read to her when she goes to bed?"

how easy had been for you to deny yourself from the pleasure and joy of letting him know before but it wasn't late to make up for all of this. having a family with the love of your life was really a dream come true.

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calummss · 11 months

Text

Infect Me With Your Lovin, Fill Me With Your Poison | Klaus Mikaelson

masterlist

summary: you have rejected klaus mikaelson a few more than once, even if he charmed you. when you find out that klaus slept with hayley, jealousy overcomes you and makes you snap at the hybrid who in return gets exactly what he wants

pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson

words: 2.7k

a/n: please listen to this song whilst reading if you can!! life changing

tw: sexy vampire x hybrid smut (blood, kinky sexy) 18?+ smut BUT i can’t write smut well so i wrote some stuff and as everyone knows by now, self interpreted ending :)

‘Where have you been?’ Caroline asked as soon as you entered the back garden of the Mikaelson house, her eyes telling you that she was already fed up.

‘Dreading to come actually,’ you rolled your eyes, immediately snatching Caroline’s planner chart to see what had to be done by today.

Apparently Klaus and his siblings wanted to host some kind of ball and asked Caroline to help, and Caroline being Caroline couldn’t say no. Not only that but she also dragged you into today’s schedule because Klaus had a soft spot for you and thought you could protect her from him, and there was the other reason being that you also loved planning and organising.

‘Caroline, those blue flowers are so ugly…are you seriously going to use them?’ You judged her as she gave you the same look back.

‘Yes,’ she beamed sarcastically, ‘Morning glories are pretty.’

You cleared your throat.

‘Well maybe you should’ve been there when we discussed everything today.’

‘Caroline, please.’ You breathed, silently enjoying the banter. ‘I was not hating…just, you know, judging.’

‘Then stop.’ She snapped, taking back her chart and started to walk towards the terrace where Tyler and Matt tried to detangle pairs of fairy lights.

Chuckling at the two, you observed the scenery in front of you. Flowers in full bloom, greenery as wide as the eye could see as well as a pond that served as a home to multiple ducks. But at the bridge that led to a gazebo that stood on a small hill, you saw Hayley and Klaus talking. They were too far away to eavesdrop but you could tell that she kept smiling at him. You have rejected Klaus Mikaelson more than a few times, even if he charmed you. You just weren’t quite ready to date the most evil villain in supernatural history, but seeing Klaus with Hayley made you clench your teeth.

‘Oh my, I’m so sorry.’ A girl bumped into you with a box Caroline most likely sent her to another location of the house.

‘Watch where you’re going.’ You scoffed, defensively squaring up.

‘I apologise.’ She murmured, her eyes quickly glancing left to right.

‘And I said watch where you are going.’ You stepped closer, so close that you could lean forward to compel her. ‘I want you to go home and write down 100 reasons why you’ll never be worth anything.’

The girl left just as Caroline approached you with an angry look on her face.

‘What was that?’ She kept her eyes on her.

‘I compelled her to leave.’

‘We need help here. Hello? I mean we only have a few hours left!’

‘She was useless Caroline.’ You stated, letting your head fall back. ‘I’ll do whatever she has to do.’

‘You better,’ her white teeth smiled at you.

‘By the way,’ you straightened yourself, staring back into the distance where Hayley and Klaus were still talking about god knows what. ‘Why is that wolf girl smiling at Klaus like she owes him just that?’ You shot back one of the champagne glasses that stood on the table, quickly wiping a drop with your sleeve.

‘You haven’t heard,’ Caroline raised her eyebrows, she too now staring at the two of them. ‘Tyler’s bitchy werewolf friend Hayley slept with Klaus. Don’t ask why, I wouldn’t know how that happened.’

‘So why does she keep smiling at him?’

‘Maybe she fell for him.’

Somehow hearing that made you uneasy, like you wanted to rip her heart from her chest.

‘Why?’ Caroline smirked, turning to face you. ‘Jealous?’

‘What?’ You snapped back.

‘Oh come on, Klaus has been practically drooling over you and you kept pushing him away. I’d say you’re jealous because maybe he moved on.’

‘He didn’t move on,’ You grabbed another glass.

‘You say that so confidently.’

‘He sent me a dress to wear tonight,’ you took a sip, ‘a pink one. He knows my favourite colour is pink…he still likes me. Even asked me for a dance.’

‘So are you going to give him a chance?’

You kept your eyes on Hayley who had just put her hand on Klaus’ arm, throwing herself onto him hidden by a violent laugh.

Shooting back the second glass you walked past Caroline.

‘I’m going to get more decorations from inside the house.’

‘They’re in one of the backrooms!’ Caroline shouted from behind as you walked into the house to get away from anything Klaus and Hayley related. The thought of them having sex made your stomach churn. But it also sparked a flame from within; hatred; jealousy? You were pretty sure you were jealous you just didn’t want to admit it just yet.

Walking into a room you were greeted by many cardboard boxes that were filled to the brim with all sorts of decorations. Some where definitely for Christmas, others for Easter. Grabbing a garland you tried pulling it out but it didn’t budge. Repeatedly you tried to get it out, tons of ornaments refusing to move under the massive amounts of other stuff.

‘Why won’t this come out!’ You sneered, ripping part of it off and throwing it at the wall.

‘There there, love,’ Klaus’ voice caught you by surprise, turning around to see him leaning against the door frame. ‘I don’t know what that poor garland did to you but certainly it couldn’t have hurt you that much.’

‘What do you want?’, you scoffed, once again trying to get that bloody garland out but it would just not move.

‘Why do I have the feeling that you have been ignoring me, love?’

‘I don’t know, have I?’

‘Come on,’ Klaus stepped further into the room, arrogance dripping down his shoulders. ‘It’s rude not to let me know why…’

You turned around to face him, your body starting to feel warm. ‘Why don’t you go back to Hayley hm?’

‘So this is about Hayley? I suppose Caroline told you. You two seemed pretty close just moments ago.’

‘So it’s true then? You slept with her?’

‘Shouldn’t I have?’ He cocked his head, his devilish smirk adding to the rising warmth within.

You stayed quiet and instead turned around to face your luck once more.

‘Does it bother you?’

‘No it doesn’t bother me,’ you grabbed ahold of the decoration once more. ‘You can fuck whomever you want to, Klaus. Just leave me alone and go back to fucking her, why-the-fuck-won’t-this-stupid-decoration-come-out!’

‘You’re jealous.’ Klaus chuckled, you could hear it in his voice how amused he was.

‘I’m not. You go back to that little slut of yours and leave me alone.’ You stepped closer.

‘I have fancied you for months so now when I sleep with someone you suddenly seem to care…why?’

‘Okay fine, Klaus,’ your hand fell over your face, bile starting to rise in your throat. ‘I care. I am so angry at you for sleeping with Hayley when you should’ve fucked me!’

Klaus continued to smirk, his eyes glistening. Somewhat happy that you finally had exploded and accepted that you actually had like him for longer.

‘First of all, love,’ he came even closer, his chest so close you could almost feel his heartbeat through your chest. ‘I wouldn’t just fuck you, I would worship you.’

‘Is that what you told Hayley?’ You gazed into his eyes, his lips so close you could almost taste him.

‘Barely did any talking.’ Klaus’ nose brushed against your, ‘I thought of you whilst I was inside of her,’

‘That doesn’t exactly make a girl swoon,’ A suppressed laugh escaped your lips, breaking eye contact before Klaus’ finger pushed your head back up at him.

‘Let’s not pretend that you don’t love it, Y/n,’ he said sturn. ‘Why keep this wall up of yours.’

You raised your eyebrows.

‘Come on, darling. You love that the bad guy has a soft spot for you.’ He chuckled. ‘No one’s going to judge you for wanting to sleep with me…maybe even more.’

His lips came closer and closer, both hands already cupping your face. You really wanted to kiss him. You really did.

Heat arose from your stomach to your chest. His lips were getting closer and your heart skipped a beat. His dark blue eyes sparked with sin as his eyes didn’t leave your gaze. Your heart pounded in your chest as your knees got weaker. The empty void that filled the space between your bodies was filled with his presence as he stepped even closer. Your whole body tingled, the feeling of his frame leaning on yours, as his arms wrapped around you felt nearly forbidden. His lips brushed against yours, softly, delicately, like you were a porcelain figure, one crack away from falling to pieces and being broken forever. Seconds later the gap was closed. His hands cupped your face as his lips crashed into yours, lips plump and smooth against your own. His arms found themselves to your back, pulling you closer than was possible—you also wanted to be closer to him. You could only focus on how soft he felt against your lips, how addictively he invaded all your senses.

You pushed away from him before he could indulge once more as you hastily pulled back from the kiss.

‘We shouldn’t do this. This is a terrible idea.’ Your thoughts scattered across the floor, breathing heavily.

‘You’re right . . . Want to do it again?‘

‘Yes.’

Barely a sound escaped you before he cupped your face again, kissing you more forcefully than before; your arms finding their way to his neck, making sure you wouldn’t fall from the force he was impacting you with. His arms were around your lower back, pulling you towards his torso. Your hands had found his hair that you had secretly been dreaming of tugging since the moment you saw. Not breaking the kiss you went to one of the bedrooms just next door, closing it before resuming the kiss.

You parted your lips, urging him to open his, moaning into his mouth. Dragging his lips against your cheek up to your ear, his hand found your face again, his thumb pulling down your bottom lip, breaking the kiss again, your eyes meeting, now under different circumstances.

You tore off his shirt, gently stroking his chest as he pulled of your trousers and shirt as you kissed him again. His tongue pushing past yours, his hands at the back of your head pushing you further into his kiss.

You played with his belt, trying to unbuckle it as he clipped off your bra leaving you in only your panties. Your fingers continued to brush against the light stubble on his lower abdomen when he suddenly broke the kiss, his eyes darkening as his lip curled almost devilishly.

Klaus walked over to the door, ‘Do you get turned on listening to people have sex, Hayley?’, and swiftly opened the door to reveal Hayley whose eyes were wide with shock, taken aback by having been found.

Klaus pulled Hayley into the room by the collar of her jeans jacket, locking the door to ensure that no other person would interrupt again.

‘I didn’t mean to.’ She said, barely audible as the shame started to settle in, her fingers playing with the hair tie around her wrist. ‘I won’t tell anyone.’

‘We don’t care if anyone knows about us, love.’ Klaus drawled, rolling his eyes.

Hayley’s eyes met yours before they visibly travelled down to your naked chest that already bore red spots from Klaus’ foreplay.

‘You are interrupting.’ You said coldly, almost hissing as you felt the annoyance rise in you, your fingernails digging into your palms as you tried to control yourself.

Klaus gazed at you then back at Hayley.

‘Now what do we do with you,’

‘I want her dead, Klaus.’ Monotone. You could only stare at her, your mind filling with images of every way you could ensure to stop her beating heart.

He chuckled. ‘You hear that little wolf? My darling girl wants you dead…,’ his hands grabbed Hayley’s shoulders and squared them with his. ‘And everything my girl wants she gets.’ Klaus looked directly into her eyes. ‘Stand here and don’t move.’

He moved her hair from her neck, ‘Fancy a drink, love?’

You stepped towards Hayley, your eyes filling with lust as your teeth finally pierced through her delicate skin. The thick sweet taste of werewolf blood coating your tongue as you felt an euphoric rush travel through your veins. You could feel the life drain out of her body as shallow breaths of dying filled your ears. Glimpsing over at Klaus who also had his teeth buried into her neck, you noticed that he already had been staring at you.

Blood started to drip down the corners of your mouth, falling onto your chest, nipples hardening in arousal. The warm blood messily smearing over your naked body. Taking your index finger, you collected some of the blood and placed it on your tongue, closing your mouth around it as you sucked it off, your eyes never leaving his.

Klaus pushed Hayley’s dead body to the ground, clenching his jaw. You stood inches apart, your nose picking up the scent of blood mixed with his cologne.

Seconds later the gap was closed again. His hands cupped your face as his lips crashed into yours. His arms found themselves back at your back, pulling you closer.

‘If only I had known how twisted you really are,’

Your eyes found his; chest rising and falling heavily waiting for him to finish his sentence.

‘I would’ve fucked you sooner.’ Klaus smirked, pulling you in for one more heated kiss before he pulled away. His breath sent shivers down your spine, raising goosebumps on every available patch of skin that was naked to the open.

Your breath hitched when you suddenly felt his mouth on your tits. He started to trace long slow licks; licking of the blood. His right hand found its way to your other breast, massaging it thoroughly and pinching your hardened nipple. You bit your lower lip closing your eyes as you felt your heart beat outside of your chest, your cunt aching from between your thighs, soft moans escaping your blood stained lips.

‘God you are so beautiful.’

‘Fuck,’ you hissed, his tongue starting to flick your nipples as your fingers buried themselves his his hair. Gently tugging it.

Your hands fell to his face bringing him to your face, and forcefully kissed him again, the sight of him being covered in blood sending heat waves down to cunt, feeling that your panties were already soaked. Your arms found their way to his neck, to make sure you wouldn’t fall from the force he was impacting you with. His arms were around your lower back, pulling you towards his body.

‘She tastes good but you would taste better,’

He pushed your body onto the bed, ripping off your panties as a long lick from your hole to your clit made you arch your back. His finger parted your lips and started to explore your already wet cunt, his teeth biting the thin skin of your inner thighs.

‘We barely started and you're soaked? Just for me,’ he chuckled. ‘And here I thought you hated me. Turns out you’ve just been fighting me?’ You closed your eyes and turned your head to the side, difficulty concentrating as he started to push his tongue deeper into you. Slowly he began to pump his fingers out of you, too slow for your liking. Your hands grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin, asking for more.

‘Not satisfied darling?’ He cocked at you.

You could only concentrate on the pleasure you were receiving, and whimpered out a no. You barely had time to take another breath before he reattached his mouth to your aching cunt.

‘Fuck!’ You yelled out, grabbing a fistful of his dark hair. A deep moan escaped his lips, sending vibrations through your body. He added another finger going even faster than his previous pace, curling his fingers, hitting your spot perfectly.

He continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, making you cry out in euphoria. With every forceful hit you felt your orgasm draw nearer and nearer. It felt like a knot inside of your stomach was going to explode any second which Klaus started to notice. Just before you could release your screams, he pulled out his digits and grinned.

‘Please make me cum,’ You whimpered out desperately.

Klaus’ lips hovered over yours, giving you a taste of yourself as you caught his lips. ‘With time, love.’

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